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swtki · 3 years

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Dancing Days - Edward Cullen x Reader Smut

Anonymous said: 19&24 on edward smut? love ur writing!

A/N: Thank you so much :) also I’m so happy everyone is h*rny for Eddy. I decided I want to explore more period times with Edward, changing his persona in a certain decade, but still ultimately being in the same universe as cannon. This will play into the readers character a tad bit.

WARNINGS: 18+ CONTENT, SWEARING, S*X, VAMPIRES, ORAL SEX (MALE RECIEVING), VIRGIN! EDWARD, NON VIRGIN READER, GENDER NEUTURAL READER, MENTIONS OF WAR AND DEATH.

19: “Fuck me like you want people to know”.

24. “Thing is, I’m a virgin”.

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I brushed my hair into its usual part, making sure I looked flawless. The year was 1976, I was a senior in Highschool. It was a wonderful time to be a teenager, no longer afraid that my friends would die in Vietnam. Even in my dinky little Washington town, the culture was becoming our own.

The Led Zeppelin record playing on my record player stopped suddenly, alerting me that I was no longer alone in my room. I turned, my expression soft as I saw my boyfriend, Edward.

“Whats up with you and this album? Everytime I come in, its always House of Th Holy on repeat.” I rolled my eyes, lifted the record in question off of the tray, and put it back snuggly in its case.

“I can’t help it, Ed. Robert just speaks to me. I’m sure you’re like that with Louis Armstrong.” I waved my hand, walking back to my mirror to finish getting ready.

“Maybe, but the music you listen to it’s...” Edward paused for a moment, sitting on my bed. “It’s suggestive, Y/N.” I turned to him, my eyebrow raised.

“Suggestive? What’s that supposed to mean?” I placed my hands on my hips, and waited for him to explain.

“Well, for one that one song says ‘Sipping booze’, I quite think that is blatant alcohol reference.” I looked at him, dumbfounded. Then, I started to laugh, and I walked over to him. Instinctually, he pushed his head into my chest, enjoying the comfort it brought him.

“I love you, but god are we from two different Mars.” He chuckled, sending a rumble through my chest.

At school, I was an average kid. Fair grades, many friends, many ex friends. When Edward was paired up with me in math, I got through his cold, stone skin. At first, he was annoyed when I would fuck off, leaving him to do the work himself. Understandable, and once I realized how rude I was, I stopped. I talked to him, prodded him truthfully. I would ask him once we started dating if he had noticed me previously, because I had never noticed him.

“Yes, I noticed that you were the only one who didn’t acknowledge me. Ironic I guess.”

A year into our relationship, I would never let him go unnoticed. We walked the halls, hand in hand. Our outlooks were so different when it came to life. He was modest, I was free spirited. Edward was different from my boyfriends previously, I didn’t want to fuck things up, and I refused to even risk it.

School went slowly that day, possibly because my head was focused on what I would ask Edward, my boyfriend of one year, about sex. About us and sex.

I hadn’t told him that I wasn’t a virgin, I was worried he would only want a virgin girl, after all they can never look at you disappointed and say “I’ve had better.” A definite plus. Many a nights I tried to imagine him, moaning completely under my control. I wanted him, but I didn’t know if he wanted me. Surely in 50 years he had found a good fuck. I worried that he would be into someone else, forever tied to a vampiress.

The end of the school day couldn’t have come sooner, my anxiety rising as I got into Edwards car, starting a long silent car ride. I tried to keep my mind off of it, an attempt to avoid the conversation until we were at my house. I kept my mind busy with the lush scenery outside of the passenger side window.

“So... I know you want to ask me, and I know the answers to what I would ask you.” He said blatantly, putting the car in park outside my front lawn.

“I don’t wanna talk out here Ed, lets go inside.” I swung my bag onto my shoulder. Thats the thing with Edward, I never have to say anything, just as long as I think it.

My house was empty, making it easy for Edward to follow me upstairs to my room. I shut my door behind us, then turned to him. Unsure of what to say, I breathed in deeply.

“How long have you known that I wasn’t...you know?” He smiled, sitting on my plush navy sheets.

“Y/N, I knew before I met you what I was getting into. Your ex had a lot of thoughts about that one night where you guys-”

“Oh my god okay ew.” A blush rose upon my face, and I saw Edward laugh as he watched my body fill with embarassment. “Well why didn’t you say something?” I asked.

“I figured if it needed to be brought up, it would be. You and I aren’t exactly a physical couple so I didn’t worry too much.” I walked over to my bed, taking a seat next to him.

“I see...I mean it wouldn’t be a big deal for me so if you want to...” I bit my lip at him, his gaze turned to the other direction.

“Thing is, I’m a virgin.” My expression went from a seductive look, to a puzzled one. I wondered if I had heard him correctly. “I’m old school, Y/N. It wasn’t like how it is now when I was human. People didn’t just have sex in highschool, unless they were married because the man was off to war. So, it hasn’t been on the menu for me. You’re the first girl I’ve dated in fifty years, you know. And no, there was no vampiress or anything.” I smiled.

“Well, I don’t wanna scare you or push it or anything. It’s just you know-”

“You want to touch me, to be touched by me.” his eyes trailed back to mine, looking deep into my soul.

“Yes, I want you, Edward.” I pressed my lips to his, pulling away jut as it got intense. I could feel his disappointment. “I want to...but I can’t let you down. Tomorrow night. I’ll call you and we can talk about everything we want out of it, I’ll give you a fucking fairytale, my love” I chuckled.

I called him that night as I had said I would. We talked about my first time, and everything I liked, followed by what he had seen on video, what he wanted to try, and his fears.

“I don’t want to kill you, darling.” He said.

“Then don’t. I won’t let you.” He laughed at me, enjoying my lack of seriousness.

The next night rolled along with a quick pace. I looked at the clock and saw that it was time for me to start getting ready.

I made myself look simple, a small bit of makeup and hair product, but otherwise just a tank top and jeans. Sometimes, dating an old fashioned guy was a pain in the ass. Always complaining about suggestive behavior. But other times, my shoulders counted as being half nude.

“You look stunning, as per usual.” Edward said, stepping into my room. He was tense and barely moved. “I don’t know what to do..what usually happens with it if I’m not the one doing everything.”

If he had any blood flow, he would have been blushing right about then.

“We don’t have to do anything you know. We can just lay down and watch a movie if you want to, I just want to make you happy, Edward.” I walked over to him and put a strand of his messy auburn hair behind his ear. Without hesitation, he pressed his forehead to mine.

“I want to, thats the part that’s been eating me away ever since I met you. I want to make you feel good, I just don’t know if I’ll lose it and-“ I cut him off with a kiss.

“Even if you break my pelvis into pieces, I’ll still be happy. I’m always happy when I’m with you.” we both smiled, and suddenly the thick tension that once filled the room vanished. “I’ll take care of you tonight, just as long as you’re doing it for you. I just need to know you’re doing this for you, and you need to be sure you wont roll over afterwards and hate me.” I said, my hand clasped in his marble one.

“I want you, Y/N. I have no doubts that I’ll want you afterwards, too.”

I pushed his head down, level to my own. Our kiss was deep, filled with a years worth of hunger. My hands tugged on his hair, making him whimper. Suddenly, I felt my feet lift off the ground as Edward carried me to my bed. With a soft thump, the plush sheets surrounded my body. It was a contrast of warmth on my back, and Edwards cool body on my top.

His hands were balled into fists, clutching my duvet as if his life depended on it. I pulled away, panting for air.

“Sorry, I forget you need air.” He smirked. I rolled my eyes in response.

“Well, its a shame you don’t. Because I intend on taking your breath away.” we both made small laughs at my remark.

“What now?” He looked at me for guidance.

“Get on your back.” I said.

We switched positions, he was now on the bottom. My legs straddled his torso, I sight he visably enjoyed. I slithered my hands up to his head, cupping his face as I kissed him again. My left hand left its post, reaching down to the buttons on his shirt.

I paused, looking up at him once I got to the last button.

“Does it...work like normal or...” He threw his head back and laughed.

“It doesn’t have spikes, I can assure you its just like a humans. But Emmet did tell me to pull out so...I’m kind of worried about the implications of that but-“ I leaned down to shut him up with a kiss.

His hands were still at his side, resting on the bed. I picked up his wrists, and placed them on the side of my thighs. He squeezed them lightly.

My hands roamed over his bare chest, cool to the touch. I lached my lips onto his neck, causing his back to arch below me. I could feel his excitement beneath me, it gave me a big self esteem boost. His hand reached along my waist, tugging at my shirt. His eyes lit up at the sight of my bare chest. He reached for me but I pulled away to slide down onto my knees.

He looked confused, like I had left him high and dry.

“Sit on the edge.” I said softly, my knees burning slightly due to the rough carpet underneath them.

He rid himself of the unbottoned shirt, slidding over to me once finished. My hands slowly stroked his thighs, he was desperate for some type of touch.

I smiled, tugging on his belt until it came undone. He stayed silent, looking at me like I was the only thing in the world. I unbottoned the trousers, tugging on them. He kicked them off and was left in his breifs.

“Is it okay if I..” I looked up at him and he nodded frantically. I palmed him over his underwear, feeling how hard he had gotten from kissing. My fingers latched onto the waist band, pulling them down to reveal a pale yet pink cock. It wasn’t too big, but deffinitley satisfactory. I ran my finger over the tip, earning a small groan from the vampire. My eyes trailed up to him, so I could see him when I took him in my mouth.

He let out a breathy moan, eyes focused on my mouth. His lips were parted ever so slightly. I bobbed my head, and grotesquely sexual sounds arose from my throat. I felt Edward move a strant of hair out of my face, he looked at me like I was a god.

“Fuck..Y/N if you keep doing that there wont be anything for you, dear” He said in a breathy moan. I pulled back, my mouth feeling sore and tired. “Do you still want to?” He asked, grasping his hands on my waist.

“Yes, I fucking need you.” I threw off my jeans, I would worry about finding them later, I needed him. He layed back down, propping his head up on my pillows. Our lips collided in another kiss as I leveled myself with him.

“Are you sure?” I ask him, stroking his hard member.

“I’m sure.” He pecked my lips again as I got ontop of his lean figure. I spat in my hand, lubing up my needy hole.

“How do you want me to do this? I mean like slow? What do-“ He said with genuine worry.

“Fuck me like you want people to know” I whispered, “ Fuck me like you want the entire neighborhood to know that I’m yours and yours only.”

“I can make that happen, love.” He flipped me over, now being back to where we first started. He lined up his cock with my hole, running it around the tight area. I put my fingers in his hair, making a slight tug as he pushed into my body.

Pleasure filled my body as he filled me up, his cock stretched my insides in the right ways. Without pausing, he started to push his hips into mine, making sure not to hurt me.

He reached down to suck on my neck, adding to the pornagraphic moans in the room. My hands travled to his back, scratching my nails down the cold stone like skin. His moans echoed in my ear.

“Y/N, I can’t be on top I’m going to crush you” I laughed at him, tapping his side so he fell onto the bed. I swung my legs over him, sitting on his perfect cock.

“Perfect, fucking amazing.” He said as I steady myself onto him. His face was in a euphoric expression, the most relaxed I had ever seen him.

I began to rock my hips, sliding him in and out of me. His hands grabbed onto my hips, guiding me. Everything was a euphoric experience. My gut filled with that wonderful sensation.

“Edward I’m gonna cum, oh my god” I moaned out, picking up my pace.

Suddenly, the world went still. My eyes went black and I saw stars as my orgasm washed over me. My moans echoed in the room as my body twitched. A few thrusts up into my body and Edward pulled out of me, rubbing his cum out onto his hand.

I layed there panting while he sped to the bathroom, and came back with a clean cloth, wiping down my body. He put the cloth down, pulling up his underwear and handing me mine. I slipped the fabric on, slipping under the covers.

“Get in here, I wanna kiss you”

He laughed, obeying and slipping beside me. Our lips reunited in a soft clash.

“I love you so much, dear.”

#edward cullen #edward cullen x reader smut #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen smut #robert pattinson smut #robert pattinson #twilight shitpost #twilight headcanon #headcannons twilight #twilight fanfic #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale fanfic #carslile cullen #esme cullen

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possiamo-andare · 3 years

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Just You (5)

JJ x Reader x Rafe (love triangle)

MASTERLIST

word count: 7.4k

a/n: you know I had to sprinkle a couple of jane austen references here and there ;)

The Midsummer festival had been celebrated at the Cameron household for decades, if not longer. Their family was one of the oldest in the small town of Outer Banks and it became tradition for Rose Cameron to organize the event. She spent a majority of her year planning for one night of festivities, relying only on her close friends for help. She bore the brunt of the work, deciding on the theme, caterers, decorations, live band, venue, and so on. After all was said and done, Rose slept for a week, exhausted from all the planning. At one point in her and Ward’s marriage, she had almost decided against planning it at all since the task was so stressful. But she had pushed on, determined to make this year’s Midsummer festival the best one yet.

And, in theory, she succeeded. This year’s theme was regency; an idea that slipped into her mind after she had watched Pride and Prejudice for the first time. Rose had a taste for the finer things in life and although Ward gave her everything he could, she did grow envious of the women who lived in the regency era and got to live in exquisite dresses. So, with further support from her friends, Rose handed out invitations to Outer Banks’s elite, citing on the invitation that this year was regency themed. Now, all she needed to do was plan the festival.

She decided to host the festival in a beautiful hall called the DeClaire Hall. Most of the time, the Midsummer festival was hosted merely from their big backyard that spanned acres of land. But Rose wanted to outdo herself and prove to the snobby PTA moms that she had what it took to host an event for the town. This hall was one of the only ones in Outer Banks and it was rarely used, mostly because the Outer Banks’s Historical Society deemed it a national landmark. It had been a hotel for the elite some 120 years ago and it had not been used in the last fifty. But it was beautiful, the original marble and vinyl floors still in great condition, and Rose knew the festival had to be thrown here. So, with permits from the city council and Historian Society, Rose began planning the Midsummer festival at the DeClaire Hall.

Once word spread of where the festival was being held, everyone was gossiping about it. All the Kooks, even the ones who thought they were too good for the Midsummer festival, had RSVP'd. Well, everyone except Y/N’s parents.

“You’re not going?” Y/N grumbled, entering her kitchen with loud stomps of her feet. She had just got off the phone with Sarah. who had mentioned to Y/N that her parents had never RSVP’d.

“Your father and I decided that none of us are going.” Y/N’s mother spoke sweetly, cutting her daughter's sandwich in half. She placed her plate on the table, but Y/N made no move to sit.

“Why?” Y/N stood tall, watching as her mom and dad walked around the kitchen, preparing lunch. Her siblings were at the table, eating, but she promised herself to go on a hunger strike until her parents let her go.

Her father stopped for a moment and looked up from his plate. “Sweetie, why do you wanna go to a party like that anyways?”

Y/N furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

This time, Y/N’s mom spoke. “You said it yourself a couple days ago; the Cameron’s have been nothing but unkind to you since you got here.”

“But not Sarah! She’s been nothing but nice.” Y/N felt a deep urge to defend her friend from her parent’s hurtful words.

“Yes, Sarah is lovely but I’m not talking about her.” Y/N’s dad began. “I’m talking about Rose Cameron, who didn’t let your mom join the PTA and called your mom names behind her back. And Ward Cameron, who bad mouthed me to the country club so I wouldn’t get in. And let’s not even talk about how rude Rafe Cameron has been to you.”

Y/N bit her lip, shuddering at even the mention of Rafe’s name. “Seriously? Firstly, mom didn’t even want to join the PTA. She hates those snobby women. And you,” Y/N points to her dad. “You don’t even like golf. It’s bad for the environment.”

Y/N watched her mom roll her eyes. “That’s not the point, Y/N. Even if we don’t want to do those things, we should at least have the choice.”

Y/N sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. She knew her parents, in some ways, were right but she still wanted to go. She had never dressed but before and she wanted to feel like a princess for at least one night. “But I wanna go. I already stick out like a sore thumb in this town, I just want to fit in for one night.”

Y/N’s parents glanced at each other, sorrowful looks on their faces. They hated seeing their daughter so upset and tried to swallow their own disgust. Finally, after looking at each other for a moment, their eyes returned to Y/N.

Y/N’s mom spoke first. “If you go, promise me you’ll be careful.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up. “I promise.”

Y/N’s mom forced a smile, unsure on whether she made the right decision. She wanted her daughter to be happy, but she also wanted to protect her daughter from the Cameron’s bitterness. “Okay, then you can go.”

Sarah had bought five regency themed dresses for the Midsummer festival. She had the first two tailored, a white and pink one but, when they didn’t look the way she wanted, she custom ordered another three from a small business on the mainland. The three dresses; a blue, green, and yellow one, had been shipped from the mainland to OBX in a matter of days and had come in just on time. Literally. The morning of the festival, a frantic delivery man dropped them off at the Cameron house. This was literally Sarah's last hope. If none of them looked good on her, she would just not show up.

Thankfully, the blue one fit perfectly and looked like a dream on her. It was a sky-blue silk dress that flowed down to her feet. The sleeves, which were this blue lace material, ended just above her elbows. The dress, although flowy, was cinched just a little at the waist by a ribbon. It looked absolutely stunning on Sarah and Y/N made sure to tell her the second she saw her friend.

“You look gorgeous.” Y/N spoke sweetly, marvelling at even how Sarah’s hair was styled. It was in this half up, half down hairdo; the top pieces of her hair held together by the same fabric of her dress.

Sarah blushed, shaking her head. “Have you seen yourself?”

Y/N had and even she had to admit that she was blown away. Sarah had let her choose from all the dresses she had, and Y/N decided on the white one. It was of the same style as Sarah’s dress but much more elegant. Sarah didn’t think she could pull it off but as she looked at Y/N, she knew her friend made a good choice. It was a white satin dress with short sleeves but, over the satin dress, lace was decorated. Stitched into the lace were small red flowers littering the dress. It was beautiful and complemented Y/N so well.

Not to mention, Y/N’s hair looked breathtaking. It was a simple style but matched the sophisticated theme of the festival. The two front pieces of Y/N’s hair were pulled back, the only thing holding them together was the same red flowers that decorated her gown. She passed Sarah for a moment, looking at herself one more time in the full-length mirror. She was in awe of how she looked.

Y/N rarely had an occasion where she could dress up this elegantly. At her old school, she had been invited to prom by a senior and went with him, dressing up in a pink floor length gown, but that had been years ago. Besides, she didn’t exactly have the best time since the senior that invited her never even asked her to dance, too busy with his own friend group to care if she was having fun.

Y/N shook off that awkward memory. This time it would be different. This time she was going to a party with someone who genuinely liked her. She had a feeling that she was going to have a different experience at this party.

“Sarah!” Rose called from downstairs, momentarily stopping Sarah and Y/N’s conversation. “It’s time to take pictures!”

Sarah looks to her bedroom door, then back at her friend. “Ready?”

Y/N nodded, a slight flutter in her chest. She knew Rafe would be down there, and she wondered, for a moment, what he would think of her dress. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Unfortunately, Rafe was concerned with other matters. As Y/N and Sarah made their way downstairs, Rafe stood uncomfortably in his father’s study. They had been in there for five unbearable minutes. Rafe dreaded every time his dad had to speak to him alone because he knew it’d only spark an argument. They rarely got along; Ward being too tough on Rafe and Rafe constantly looking for validation from his father.

“You’re going into your first year of university in the fall and you have no plan.” Ward said, rather matter-of-factly.

Rafe gulped. Against his father’s approval, Rafe enrolled in the business program at the University of North Carolina. His father wanted him to enroll in a science program, which he thought was more structured. But Rafe wanted to own his own business someday, just like his dad. Besides, although he was good at science, he didn’t enjoy it the way he enjoyed the business classes he took in high school. What Ward didn’t know was that Rafe had a plan, he was just afraid to share it with his father for fear that his father would disapprove and eventually stop helping him pay for school. Rafe couldn’t do it alone and he knew his dad’s money would help.

“I’m taking courses that will help me graduate. I promise I know what I’m doing dad.”

Rafe pulled at the collar of his shirt. He wore a stunning but simple suit. He wore a white dress shirt, the two top buttons unbuttoned for comfort rather than for style, and a black fitted blazer. The gold cufflinks Rose gifted him shone against the light in his dad’s study. The most annoying part of his outfit definitely had to be the sleeves. There were annoying frills at the edge of them, some type of embroidered pattern sewn into the sleeves. It was supposed to scream regency, he remembered Rose saying, but all he wanted to do was scream bloody murder.

“I’m giving you one year Rafe, if you don’t have a plan by then,” Ward sighed, massaging his temples. Rafe grew sad at the idea that he was stressing his dad out by simply following his dreams. “I’m cutting you off.”

Rafe didn’t try to protest. He knew there was nothing he could do to change his dad’s mind. All he could do was prove to his dad that he made the right decision. He had to be the best and he had to outperform everyone in his class. That way, his dad would be proud of him and support him in university.

Rafe only nodded at what his father said, making no effort to even respond. Over the years, he figured it was best to just let his father get the last word.

There was a knock on the door before any more words could be exchanged between the two. Ward, knowing that it was probably his wife, welcomed the person inside. The door opened slightly, only enough for the person to peek their head through. It was, in fact, Rose. Rafe smiled, remembering to make sure it looked like he was having fun. Rose had gone through all this trouble to plan this festival, the least he could do was play along.

“Oh, honey, we’re taking some pictures before we leave.” Rose’s voice was quiet and mellow, not wanting to disturb whatever conversation Rafe was having with his father.

Ward smiled, nodding sweetly to his wife. “We’ll be right there.”

Rose nods, leaving the door slightly ajar so Rafe and Ward can follow after her. Ward makes his way towards the door, glaring at Rafe.

His words are just as menacing as his glare. “Do not disappoint me.”

Rafe doesn’t even nod this time. He’s too afraid. He knows, not only by his dad’s glare, but also by how his dad leaves the room, that he is serious. More serious than he’s ever been. Rafe doesn’t move for a moment, almost too nervous to take the first step. His legs feel like jelly, and he knows that if he doesn’t calm down soon, he might faint. He wants his dad to be proud of him so badly, that he’s ready to work himself to the bone. His dad has never so much as given him a nod of approval before and he would be lying if he said it wasn’t something he craved. He yearned for the day when his dad would smile at him, telling Rafe he was proud of him.

But that day was not today, and Rafe knew he had to get over it. One day, it may happen, but he had to push all that down for tonight. Tonight, was a night to support Rose and all the hard work that went into planning a celebration like this. So, Rafe began to walk towards the door of his dad’s study, trying to forget about the conversation he just had with his dad.

As he exited the study, he straightened his collar. He felt very uncomfortable in such a fancy suit, but he tried to focus on the afterparty, something he was a little more excited for. Sure, Y/N was going but he knew JJ was jealous and would try to keep them apart all evening. All he had to do was tolerate her now and on the way to the hall and after that, he would not have to think of her for the rest of the night.

Unfortunately, things never go Rafe’s way. The second he walked outside, he felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him. Rose was taking pictures of everyone in their front garden, mentioning to Rafe before that her tulips would look great as a background piece. He had figured that since no one seemed to be in the house, they were all outside. He was right, but at what cost? Well, the cost was his sanity.

She stood there as if it was another normal day. As if she dressed like that every day. Rafe was utterly speechless. How could she be doing something as mundane as talking to Sarah but look so stunning? This was the first time he envied JJ Maybank. Although Rafe had everything a guy could ask for, JJ got the ultimate prize; he got to escort Y/N to the Midsummer festival. He got to intertwine their hands and show her off. He was the one who could dance with her and hold her and tell her how breathtaking she looked. All Rafe could do was watch (more like stare) and pretend to not notice the most beautiful woman in the room.

He hesitated for a moment. His eyes were trained on her dress instead of her face, fearing he would blush too much and make his attraction toward her obvious. Unfortunately, looking at her dress didn’t help. The fabric blew in the wind, enhancing the silhouette of her body. Ultimately, Rafe just looked away. Every moment he looked at her was another moment he was reminded that she was not his.

“Rafe!” Rose called, watching as Rafe stood away from the group. His head was down and only when she called did, he turns it up slightly. “Come over here and take some pictures!”

Rafe nodded, realizing her eyes were probably on him now. He gulped nervously. “O-okay.”

Rose frowned, confused at Rafe’s shy behaviour. She looked to Ward, who was typing something on his phone. She knew how rocky Ward and Rafe’s relationship was and knew that whenever they entered Ward’s study, Rafe would come out a meek boy. She figured Ward had done something again to hurt Rafe. Although this was true, it was not the real reason Rafe was acting so shy.

“What did you say to him?” Rose whispered to Ward once his phone was tucked away.

Ward rolled his eyes. “He needs some tough love, that boy.”

Rose was fuming but tried to keep her cool. Just for this one night. “I swear Ward, this is my day. Do not ruin it.”

Ward smirked, leaning down to kiss his wife on her cheek. “Of course, not darling. Everything will go your way tonight.”

If only they knew what was to come.

JJ Maybank was nervous. He swears, before he met Y/N, he was never an anxious person. Now he seemed to be panicking all the time. He knew it was because of Y/N. She was one of the best parts of his life right now and JJ had a dangerous pattern of ruining all the good things in his life. He knew it was because he was always scared of losing someone or something so special to him and never recovering. This was especially true with Y/N. Although they were not official, they had hung out basically every day since they met, and JJ’s feelings had become clear. He wanted to be her boyfriend.

And tonight, if everything went well, he would ask Y/N to be his girlfriend. He had never moved this slow with a girl before, but he was willing to try. He didn’t want to scare her off, so he played it safe.

Except, for right now. Agreeing to go to the Midsummer festival was probably the least safe thing JJ could do. He was not accepted by the Kooks, his reputation preceding him. He was rarely on his best behaviour when Kooks were involved so he was very nervous that he would somehow ruin the evening for Y/N. He could tell she had been excited for this festival, and he was sure that if he ruined the night for her, she would never want to be with him. So, with a deep breath, JJ promised himself that no matter what, he’d be on his best behaviour.

And then he saw Y/N exit Ward Cameron’s car.

She stood out like a sore thumb. None of the other girls could compare to her. JJ felt time freeze for a moment as he looked at the most beautiful girl in the world. Her white dress fitted her perfectly, it was as if it was made for her. Her hair made her look ethereal, like a fairy glowing in the dimming light. The festival was supposed to start right as the sun set so many people were already using flashlights so they could see the path to the entrance of the hall but not JJ. Y/N was his flashlight, illuminating not only herself but his entire life.

Once their eyes met, it was fireworks. JJ felt his heart skip a beat, the reality of her beauty setting in. He didn’t have to smile at her, he’d been smiling since she stepped out of the car. When she registered that it was JJ who was wearing the goofy grin, she smiled right back.

Although JJ thought Y/N looked beautiful, Y/N thought JJ looked handsome. He wore a black button up with black blazer and slacks. The collar of his shirt was embroidered with white flowers and lace, seeming to match Y/N without knowing. The usual messy hair look he wore so well was brushed back and styled. All the dirt and grime on his face was gone. It was like looking at a new JJ. A JJ that Y/N never thought she would get to see.

Once she’s an arm’s length away, JJ’s arms stretch out towards her, and she gladly accepts the hug. They both seem excited but nervous to be here. Even though Y/N is technically a Kook, she feels out of place. She knows that everyone is looking at her with disdain; knowing her family is from new money. Everyone except JJ and Sarah.

“You look beautiful.” JJ remarks as they pull away from each other.

“Thanks, J. You don’t look so bad yourself.” Y/N blushes, looping her arm around JJ. “Where’d you get that suit?”

JJ smirked. “Sarah lent it to me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, glancing at Sarah. She was being escorted inside by John B. Y/N reminded herself to thank Sarah again. The festival is starting and every woman with a date is being escorted in now. “Shall we?”

JJ nods, tilting his chin up higher. “Yes, m’lady.”

Whatever image Y/N had in her mind of how the DeClaire Hall would look quickly vanished once they were inside. Large, tall marble pillars stood tall in every corner of the room. They were white, reflecting off the marble walls and vinyl floors. The middle of the hall was empty, only a few couples dancing to the melody of a violin playing. The tables were scattered along the outer part of the hall, decorated with white linen and golden embellishments. Both Y/N and JJ were astonished that Rose pulled it off. It was as if Y/N and JJ had been transported to the regency time period, watching in awe as every person seemed to be playing a character. The women wore long, bright dresses while the men were styled in fitted but elegant suits. Sarah was right; Rose really did go all out for this celebration.

“Woah.” JJ gasped. He had never seen something like this before. Although he was in awe, he was still a little bitter. The Kooks had all this money to spend on a festival that didn’t really matter but couldn’t donate some money to fix up JJ’s school or help out the dirt poor Pogues? He was bitter at the thought of all these Kooks enjoying themselves while his friends like Kie and Pope sat at home.

Y/N nodded; her eyes trained on Rafe. She couldn’t help herself. She wished he didn’t look so good but there he was, standing 20 feet away and looking like a dream. “Yeah, woah is right.”

Before any more words could be exchanged, the soft music stopped, and Rose entered the dance floor. She stood tall, the train of her yellow dress trailing behind her. “Hello everyone!” She had begun to speak but instead of her normal voice, she pretended to put on an English accent. “Thank you for coming to the ninety fifth anniversary of the Midsummer festival!”

Y/N snickered, leaning towards JJ’s ear. “This can’t be real.”

JJ smirked at her, his voice lowering. “We call them Kooks for a reason.”

“Shortly, the festivities will commence but before then, let us go over some ground rules.” Rose paused for a moment, waiting until everyone quieted down. “Firstly, young ladies will not stand up for more than two consecutive dances with the same partner. Secondly, there will be no vulgarity of any sort. And lastly, have a wondrous time!” The last sentence was spoken in her own words, the English accent no longer present in her voice.

Everyone seemed to cheer, some even clinking their champagne glasses together. The music began again, a soft melody flowing throughout the hall. Although everyone else seemed to be taking this seriously, waltzing with their partner and speaking in an English accent, Y/N and JJ were not.

JJ bowed, a goofy grin on his face. “M’lady, would you care to dance?” His southern accent was hard to disguise, even under a fake and terrible English accent.

Y/N giggled, curtsying slightly. “Why, of course!” Her hands rested in JJ’s as he led her to the middle of the hall. With anyone else, she would feel embarrassed, but it was so fun being with JJ that she didn’t care what other people thought of her.

As they pushed past crowds of Kooks, all dressed up in the finest clothing she ever saw, JJ leaned down, his breath fanning against her neck. “This has to be the stupidest shit I’ve ever done.”

Y/N smirked, looking up at him. Their lips were inches apart and she had the sudden urge to kiss him. “That can’t be true.”

JJ pouted, finally finding an open spot for them to sway to the music. He twirled Y/N around, watching in awe as her smile only grew wider. He swore he could watch her like this all day. “You’re right, it’s not.” He knew the stupidest thing he’d ever done was not kiss her sooner.

Y/N grew nervous, unsure of how to actually dance with a partner. She had never done this before. Thankfully, JJ did not hesitate like she did. She watched as he carefully placed one hand on her waist as the other clasped onto her hand. She let her other hand fall to the side, unsure of what to do next.

She looked up at JJ sheepishly. “How do I do this?” There was an awkward giggle at the end as Y/N tried to hide behind her embarrassment.

JJ smirked, his hand leaving her waist for a moment and guiding her limp arm to his shoulder. “Hold me.” Once his hand returned to her waist, he pulled her body closer to him. He could feel the warmth of her chest against his which only made his heartbeat faster. They had never been this close. Never touched each other in such a delicate way.

Soon, the two of them swayed to the music, a lovestruck grin on both of their faces. Y/N wished she could capture this moment forever. She was sure no one else had ever made her feel like this. She felt so protected. So secure. She knew that if she could, she’d choose to be in JJ’s arms forever. She was the happiest she could ever be as she danced with JJ, swaying to a song about unrequited love.

But, about twenty feet away in the corner of the room, Rafe enviously watched as the girl he wanted most danced with another man.

The first two hours of the Midsummer festival went marvellous. Y/N and JJ seemed to be attached at the hip, dancing, drinking, and laughing together the entire time. It seemed that all the nerves the two of them had at the beginning of the night dwindled down when they were with each other and had a few drinks. For Y/N, the best part was she had not run into Rafe once. He had been on the other side of the hall all night, drinking with his friends and dancing with a few girls. And although Y/N convinced herself that she was not watching him, she couldn’t help but feel a tad envious seeing Rafe dance with a couple girls.

The rules that Rose spoke about at the beginning of the night were more serious than Y/N and JJ initially thought. They thought it was all for show, just another way for the night to feel more realistic. But in reality, Rose would not let women dance with the same man consecutively. It was odd the first time she caught JJ and Y/N dancing, both of them ready to lie just so they could dance together again, but Rose shooed them away, telling them to wait for the next song to come on before they danced together again.

After the fourth time of Y/N and JJ trying to sneak past Rose and being caught red handed, they decided to just wait it out. How long could one song be?

“JJ,” Y/N cooed, sitting down at their table. They were seated with Sarah and John B at table two while Rose, Ward, and their friends were seated at table one. “Can you get me a glass of water?”

JJ smirked, crouched down to meet Y/N’s eyeline. “I’ve worn you out already?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, a devious glint in her eyes. “I’m sorry I don’t have the stamina to drink and dance for two hours.”

JJ shrugged, standing up again. “Fine, but you owe me a dance after. That line is so long and I’m gonna have to make conversation with those snooty PTA moms.”

Y/N giggled. “Well, if you come back with a cold glass of water, I’ll do more than dance with you.”

It was supposed to be a teasing comment and it was, but there was a serious undertone to the way she talked. She had waited too long to kiss JJ. If he could just stop being a gentleman for one moment.

JJ’s back straightened, his brows raised. He slightly nods, as if he’s tipping his nonexistent hat in her direction. “I’ll be right back.”

Y/N watches in amusement as JJ scurries across the hall, impatiently waiting in the long ass line. Y/N sighs, thinking she’ll be able to relax for a moment. Although she loves dancing with JJ, she needs to rest her feet. Unfortunately, before she can properly rest, Sarah and John B rush towards her.

“What did you say to JJ that got him so riled up? That man basically ran to the bar.” John B jokes, glancing at his friend. Some of the PTA moms began talking to JJ and he watches as his friend uncomfortably tries to make conversation.

“Nothing. I’m just waiting until we can dance again.” Y/N smirks, watching JJ from across the hall as well.

“But the waltz is on next, and JJ won’t be back in time!” Sarah frowns, glancing at JJ before her gaze returns to Y/N.

Y/N shrugs. She knew her and Sarah promised to dance the waltz together with their partners, but Y/N wasn’t too worried. She figured the waltz would be played many times that night and they’d dance it next time it came on. She tried to reassure Sarah by saying so, but Sarah only frowned deeper.

“No, I’m leaving in, like, twenty minutes. Rafe and I have to start setting everything up at our house for the afterparty. It starts in an hour.” Sarah groaned.

Y/N frowned, now a little upset as well that they wouldn’t be able to fulfill their promise. “I’m sorry. I wish I could dance with you guys; I do.”

It seemed that the second those words left Y/N’s mouth, Sarah’s eyes lit up and she was no longer frowning. “Maybe you can.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “JJ’s not leaving that line now. I promised him something if he got me some water.”

Sarah giggled, instantly knowing what Y/N was implying. “No, silly. Not JJ. Someone else.” But before Y/N could ask her who she had in mind, Sarah dashed off, disappearing into the crowd of people gathered on the other side of the hall.

Y/N looked to John B, getting up from her seat. Her feet didn’t hurt as much anymore, the little rest she took had helped a lot. “What’s she up to?”

John B shrugged, a smug grin on his lips. “I never know.”

Y/N giggled at John B’s little remark because it was so true. Sarah was a very creative person and someone Y/N could go to whenever she was having a problem. Sarah always came up with the best solutions.

Except for now. Sarah was Y/N’s best friend in OBX but, when she emerged from the crowd tugging on the sleeve of a familiar face, Y/N wished Sarah didn’t have these creative plans. The person she was dragging along was Rafe. She had somehow looped Rafe into this. The last person Y/N wanted to see tonight. He looked confused and it was clear to Y/N that Sarah had not let Rafe in on her plan. This comforted her a little; knowing Rafe would be just as mortified.

When they reached about six feet away from Y/N and John B, Rafe finally understood what was about to happen. Y/N was right, he looked mortified. Rafe didn’t feel as though mortified was the right word. Humiliated. Nauseous. Literally any word that would describe how shitty he felt the second his eyes met Y/N’s.

He tried to run away; he really did. He stopped walking the second he realized what was going on. Sarah was only tugging on him because he let her. If he really wanted to, he could overpower her in seconds. And that’s what he did. He stopped in his tracks, refusing to move even as Sarah pulled harder on his sleeve.

“C’mon, she’s, my friend.” Sarah pleaded, her grasp on Rafe tightening.

Rafe shook his head, glancing Y/N’s way once more. He quickly grew embarrassed that her eyes were still on him and immediately looked back to Sarah. “Well, she’s not my friend.”

Sarah sighed, her lips in a deep pout. “Whatever weird energy you have for her, swallow it. Just for one dance.”

Rafe wanted to argue. He wanted to say that they shared no weird energy. That he just didn’t care for that hippie. But his sister knew him too well and although she might not have noticed his feelings for Y/N fully, she did register some tension between them. Rafe hated lying to his sister so, with a deep breath and a quick roll of his eyes, he agreed. It was just one dance. What’s the worst that could happen?

Y/N, on the other hand, was less flexible than Rafe. The second Sarah was close enough to hear, Y/N voiced her disdain. Which was bold since Rafe was standing in front of her.

“No way. I’m not getting a pity dance from your brother.”

Rafe scoffed, rolling his eyes for what seemed like the tenth time tonight. “A thank you would suffice.”

Y/N shook her head. “Oh, a thank you?” She repeated, her blood boiling. How could someone be so attractive yet so annoying at the same time. “How about this as a thank you?” Without even thinking, Y/N raised her hand and stuck her middle finger in the air defiantly.

Y/N’s anger only made him cockier. Call Rafe a coward all you want but he was damn good at hiding behind anger to protect his own feelings. “Not very ladylike, is it? Especially in this time period.”

“You know what is appropriate in this time period though?” Y/N grumbled. “The guillotine.”

Before Rafe could come up with an intelligent rebuttal, John B cut through the tension by stepping in between the two of them. It was getting pretty heated, and John B was sure Y/N was about to punch him. “Hey guys! The waltz should be on any minute so can we please put a pin in this and just have a fun time?”

Y/N stared at Rafe, her heart fluttering a little at how rosy his cheeks had gotten during their conversation. Although he had said such terrible things, somehow, she knew he had not meant any of it. So, with a steady breath, she outstretched her hand. She had a tiny smile on her lips and this time, it wasn’t forced.

“I’m willing to put it aside if you’re willing to dance with me.”

Rafe gulped, looking at her outstretched hand and gingerly taking it. “Fine.” It was all he could muster out. He was so nervous, and it didn’t help that this was the first time they had touched. She had always felt so far away from him and now their hands were intertwined. Her skin felt soft against his and he swore he felt a buzz of electricity course through him the second their hands touched.

Y/N could feel it too. She tried to ignore it, blaming it on static electricity or anything else. She would blame it on the wind before she would conclude that there was some part of her that was drawn to Rafe Cameron. They both stayed speechless and even as they approached the middle of the hall where everyone was dancing, they barely made an effort to look at each other. Everything felt so tense the second their hands touched.

Finally, the music died down for a moment. The waltz was the next song and Y/N prepared herself mentally. No matter what her brain told her, she did not feel anything for Rafe. She liked JJ. But as the music began and Rafe made the first move, she was not so sure. His hands were gentle but hesitant, scared to place his hand on her hip. They were in each other’s space. Y/N had never been this close to him. She breathed in through her nose, smelling his wonderful cologne.

“You’re gonna have to hold me, you know that right?” Her tone comes off as sarcastic because it’s the only one she’s familiar with around Rafe.

Rafe rolls his eyes. “Uh, yeah. I know.” He places one hand on Y/N’s hip, swallowing harshly before reaching out with his other hand and holding onto her hand. Their thumbs are intertwined, a small gesture that causes Rafe’s stomach to stir.

When the music starts, it’s soft and low at first and Y/N expects them to just sway. She had really only been swaying when she danced with JJ since they both weren’t sure how to formally dance. But Rafe had been to enough of these festivals to know how to lead a girl through a dance. So, as the music’s pace began to grow, Rafe led Y/N across the floor. Their feet seemed to be at the same pace, quietly shuffling like everyone else. He wasn’t going too fast like Y/N expected and she was grateful for it. But she was nervous nonetheless and looked to her feet so she wouldn’t accidentally step on Rafe’s toes.

Rafe chuckled at Y/N’s nervousness. He couldn’t stop thinking that she was so cute. “You have to look at your partner when you’re dancing with them.” The tone was more teasing than he wanted it to be.

Y/N looked up, blushing at her naivety. “Um, I’m afraid I’m gonna fall.”

She was being vulnerable with him. Sure, it was a very small step, but it was a step forward, nonetheless. Rafe beamed, endeared at her bashfulness. She had never been this way with him. He was taking her out of her comfort zone. “I promise you won’t step on my toes. And if you do, I won’t mind.”

Y/N gives Rafe a bashful smile. She’s looking at him while they dance now, never breaking eye contact. But Rafe is the bashful one now and continuously finds himself looking away. He’s so nervous. She’s looking at him. She’s really looking at him. He has to wonder; does she like what she sees?

“Now look at who's not focusing on their partner.” Y/N’s tone is teasing, and he can’t help but blush.

Rafe says the first thing that comes to his head. “It’s hard to look at someone so beautiful and not blush.”

This only makes the two of them blush more. Y/N wants to tell Rafe she thinks he’s beautiful too. She wants to ask him how they could be mean to each other one moment and all bashful the next. She wants to ask him if he’s ever felt like this with anyone else. She wants to know how he feels. But before she gets a chance to do any of that, they’re pulled apart.

JJ was going to let it go. He was going to just wait in that stupid line and get her a glass of water. He even wasn’t going to complain that Rafe and Y/N were dancing even though he was sure he would burst from jealousy. He convinced himself that Y/N was probably just trying to be polite and Rafe was the one to blame. But when he saw that Rafe had made her smile like that, a smile he had never seen her use, his blood boiled and all he saw was red. He left the line, not even saying goodbye to those snobby PTA moms, and bolted to the centre of the room where they were dancing. He knew that pulling Rafe by the collar would cause a scene. And he knew he promised himself that he was going to be on his best behaviour, but he couldn’t help himself. Rafe was not about to take the only good thing in his life right now. He cared so deeply for Y/N, and he wasn’t gonna let Rafe Cameron, of all people, ruin it. So, he did the only thing he knew; he used his fists.

Rafe choked on his collar as JJ pulled him off of Y/N. He fell backwards, a surprised gasp leaving his lips before his back hit the ground. Before Rafe could even defend himself, JJ was on top of the poor boy and punching him. The only thing Rafe could do was shield his face as JJ tried his best to punch Rafe.

Y/N was mortified. She could not believe this was happening. She had never seen JJ so angry, let alone at Rafe. Sure, JJ wasn’t the biggest fan of Kooks but to fist fight one? Besides, she couldn’t remember a time when JJ mentioned such disdain for Rafe. But that didn’t matter now. She needed to intervene.

“JJ! Stop!” She tried yelling, her voice piercing through the air. The music had stopped, and many people had begun congregating around them to see what all the fuss was about. It was no use though, even Y/N’s yelling did not stop JJ.

The only thing that stopped JJ was John B. As JJ threw his fifth punch, John B approached JJ and pulled him away from Rafe. JJ fought against John B, trying to free himself from his friend’s grasp but it was no use. John B held him in a way that was difficult for JJ to get out of.

“Let me go, bro!” JJ continued to struggle as John B’s grasp, unaware that all eyes were on him.

“Dude, stop!” John B tightened his grip on JJ.

JJ finally stopped struggling, noticing that the room got very quiet. Suddenly, his actions came rushing to him and he realized the mistake he made. When John B felt JJ relax, he finally let go. He was unsure what his friend would do but he knew he had to be there just in case.

Everyone was looking at JJ, their judgemental stares burning holes onto his skin. He felt so exposed, so embarrassed that strangers had seen him like that. But he was more worried about Y/N. He knew he made a mistake and wasn’t sure how she’d react. Knowing her, it wasn’t going to be good.

And when he looked at her, her eyes brimming with tears, he knew he had fucked up big time. She was standing off to the side, standing beside Sarah who was trying to comfort her. JJ took a few steps towards her, his face pale.

“Y/N…” JJ began, the look on his face saying it all.

But Y/N didn’t care. She just wanted one perfect night. She had never seen this side of JJ but now that she had, she was afraid. She shook her head, backing away from him. “No, leave me alone.” And with that, she turned on her heels and walked farther and farther away from him.

Sarah stood there for a moment longer, dumbfounded. “JJ, I think you need to give her some space right now.”

JJ wanted to cry. Although he was embarrassed, it didn’t matter now. He had just ruined the only good thing in his life. The dangerous pattern had finally caught up to him.

taglist: @tovvaa @canyoubuymetoast @multisimpinghoe @devcarlsons @pogueslandia @theywantedplayer @lovelyxtom @milkywqze

#jj x you #jj x reader #jj one shot #jj fic #jj fanfiction #jj maybank #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fic #rafe x reader #rafe fluff #rafe imagine #rafe cameron obx #obx kiara #outerbanks #outer banks fic #obx s2 #rafe cameron

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heshoes · 3 years

Text

Uni Daze

She was his best friend and they shared everything together already anyway. What difference would it make if it were a hat, shampoo, or the same bed sometimes? So what? That's what the Uni Daze were about, having fun, traditions, getting serious, new relationships, friendships, heart ache, break-ups, make ups, secrets, the occasional/casual bajingo here and there, and possibly, just maybe, finding the love of your life and hoping that it all works out.

Warnings: Slow burn, smut, angst, mentions of abortion, mentions of verbal abuse

Pairing: Harry Styles x OFC ( face claim Zendaya)

Uni Daze Masterlist

Chapter 4 (word count 11.2k)

Harry

Usually a busy day keeps me grounded and out of any possible trouble that Michelle could help get me into, but today was different. It seems like whenever there was something toolook forward to, the day seems to drag and the minute and second hands on the clock move at a non existent pace. Any other day I would almost dread going to work the front desk in the first year halls though I know it had to be done. Today, however, I looked at it as four hours that I could use to talk to Rion.

There was a two hour gap in my time frame today due to a professor sending out a bullshit email telling us the reasons as to why his class was cancelled. He was one of the youngest professors at the university with a track record of hanging out with his student's. But what he did behind the closed doors with Lumen, the girl who lived down the hall from Michelle and I was none of my business.

After I'd taken the spare time to shower, change clothes, and read a chapter and a half ahead in my anatomy text I found myself antsy and ready to go to work, much to Michelle's amusement.

"Just sit down. You have twenty minutes left yet. Did you not have some kind of I'm an important person meeting that you could have went to? Or any equations that you could crack in hopes to surpass both Galileo and Einstein combined? Over achiever."

"Michelle, your grade mark average has been higher than mine since birth and I'm older than you."

“True. But I just don't put as much effort into it as you do."

"That's what makes it all the more annoying. No, I don't have any meetings lined up for senior class. You could be a part of it you know. All you have to do is come to a meeting."

"I'll pass on that. Thanks."

"It looks good on job applications."

"And so does First Class Honors at an Ivy League Uni." Michelle spoke, paying little attention to me as she smiled down at her phone. Ten minutes had passed before I stood from the couch, drawing Michelle's attention again. She smirked at me while shaking her head.

"I'm gonna walk. It's a nice night out, plus if I work a little earlier I get paid more and that doesn't hurt."

"No, I'm sure it doesn't. Especially if you're not really in it for the money in the first place, Hershey. Ask her out today, yeah?"

"I just enjoy talking to her. I don't want to ask her out. It's too soon. It's cliche."

"Says the man who was turned down once and then gave up completely. You don't have to date her Harrow, but stop lying to yourself. It gets you nowhere fast. Ask her to the party."

****

The walk to the first year halls was quicker than I expected. I wasn't sure if it was due to the distraction of the scenery change or my pace, but a fifteen minute stroll was cut down to one that only took ten. When I walked into the double doors I saw her again, seated at the front desk with her eyes focused on the pages of her book taking in each word with a lazy grin on her face.

“Hi Rion. How are you?" I asked somewhat loud, causing her to jump. "Sorry didn't mean to scare you."

“No, it’s fine. I didn't see you walking up. I should pay better attention sitting here. Sometimes I just get so engrossed in the words that I forget what's going on around me. How are you this evening?"

I grinned at her before running a hand through my hair and taking the hair tie that I'd stolen from Michelle off of my wrist before pulling it halfway up.

"I'm alright, but I think I asked you a question first.” Rion looked down at her half way finished novel that she had barely scratched the surface of on Monday and then smiled up at me as I made my way around the desk, taking the seat next to hers.

"I'm doing quite well actually. I have no real complaints." Her face dropped.

"That face that you're making is telling me that the last thing that you said was a lie. Clearly."

"Well..."

"Go on. Say it." I grinned while pushing my chair back and resting my feet on the shelf of the desk in front of us.

"My flatmate."

"Yeah?"

"She had company last night.” Rion's voice lowered to a whisper and her cheeks twinged the lightest shade of pink.

"And?"

"And they were very...loud. I didn't get much sleep and every time I had time between classes and I went back to my dorm to take a nap I would always oversleep. I could swear I was late to almost every class today, but my professors were kind of understanding. They all cut me a break because I'm new." Rion rested her head in her hands before she began to shake it back and forth. "I mean I don't want to be that girl who switches dorm flats because their flatmate makes them uncomfortable. She's a really nice girl you know?"

"Uh-huh." I chuckled. I didn't mean to laugh at her misfortune and bad day, but she looked so distressed while explaining it all. No wonder she was rushing about today.

"But I can't risk being late to class, or miss classes because her and her girlfriend insist on having loud goes at each other. My parents had to pay so much for tuition here and I'm working at least three jobs to pay the loans I've taken out myself."

"Yeah that's-Wait what did you say?"

"I said I'm working three jobs to pay off loans and my parents for school and-"

"Wait, no. Sorry, I didn't mean to cut you off, but what did you say before that?"

"My flatmate and her girlfriend have loud goes at each other."

"Your flatmate is a girl?"

"Yes." Rion tilted her head, looking at me as if I'd lost it. When you live on campus, the dorms are usually co-ed, but the actual rooms aren't.

"And you said she had a girlfriend?" It wouldn't be her. It can't be.

"Yes she's a les-"

"Lesbian."

"Yeah. And it's not that, that makes me uncomfortable. I believe love is love no matter who you find it with. It's just that they were so loud and I think sex is a very private and sacred thing… And I mean it was so disrespectful because Alison knows that I have to be up so early for my first class on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday but she was— they were both...and then there was this buzzing sound. I think toys were involved."

I laughed out loud. I couldn't help it. The mix of the story, the situation, and the toys made it too good to be true. Rion pouted, but I could still see a trace of a smile on her lips.

“Sorry. It's not funny. You were just making a funny face. Did you say your flatmate's name was Alison?"

"Yeah. Do you know her?"

"No." It's really not a lie. I don't know her.

"Oh. She's a really sweet girl, but I need sleep."

"You do. Three jobs is a lot to juggle. It makes me feel like I'm not doing enough."

"You do though. You work, you have more classes than I do, and you're president of senior class. We both are tackling a lot…But, I can't help but feel like something is missing from the equation for the both of us. I just can't quite put my finger on it."

“Yeah, me either. Do you know Alison's girlfriend. Have you seen her?" I don't know why I'm hoping that there's a chance that this Alison is playing the same game that Michelle is or that it's a completely different girl.

"No. I'm sure that she said it at some point last night, but I put my earphones in to try and muffle the sound as much as possible." Rion sighed as she turned around to face the desk again, looking back down at her book.

"It kind of sounds like you need an escape." I say, hoping that she would turn back around to face me.

“It's only the start of the year. Usually I'd be fine, but I'm already tired. Cambridge comes with a price, but I'm more than willing to pay it. A get away sounds good."

"Well, there's this party on Saturday that practically the whole school contributes in. I've even seen some professors there, the younger ones at least."

"Really? At a school like this?"

"Rion, Cambridge may seem mysterious, with all of its prestige, low acceptance rates, and student's who attend with big brains, but it’s a university first. Parties exist here and because we're not supposed to be considered a school known for parties, they exist a little bit more than your regular university. We just keep it a secret. You should come."

"I'm not really that much of a partier. The last one I went to was after I finished all of my GCSE. I was talking to this boy that I liked and I'd never really drank that much, but I was with my friends and peer pressure and all... It just didn't end well."

"Let me guess. You threw up on him?"

"No... I— I can't! I can't tell you it was so embarrassing!" Rion laughed covering her mouth before she stood up to help a first year out. I swear its only Wednesday and more than a fourth of the first years who live in this building have already lost their keys. I'm sure that after the party on Saturday and the excessive drinking that's going to take place there's going to be a line outside the door for key replacements.

Chelle: I'm so bored so I'm gonna clean the apartment. Starting in the living space, then your room, then mine. Anything that might stick to my fingers if I touch it this time? 😜😷

To Chelle: Don't clean my room! It's already clean! And please don't tell me you touched anything in my bin?😨😳

Chelle: I haven't, but I assume the worst. And I may or may not have changed your name in my phone to Mr. Tissue. I will never let you live that down.

To Chelle: Call one of your bitches and leave my shit alone, pimp daddy. I'm buying a lock for my door.🔒

Chelle: 😼Bitches? What good will a lock do when I'll have the spare? 🔐👀

To Chelle: We'll discuss this when I get home. I’m Busy. 🗣DO NOT TOUCH MY SHIT!

"You alright?" Rion asked pulling me out of my text war with Mitchell.

"Oh, yeah. Just texting my flat mate."

"Mitch, right?"

"Yeah," I snickered, shaking my head while thinking about the well being of my things, "So are you going to tell me what happened when you were at this party years and years ago talking to the boy you liked?"

"Ugh, no I can't. I absolutely can't embarrass myself that much again. It would be like reliving it."

"I'll tell you one of mine. My most embarrassing, but you've got to tell me yours first.” Rion hid her head in her hands peeking out at me between her fingers and laughing.

"Fine. But please don't judge me. It was my first time being drunk. Promise?"

"I promise that I might not be able to not laugh and I won't judge you but tease you for it later."Rion squinted her eyes at me processing what I said before she turned around facing away from me in her swivel chair. I heard her take a deep breath before she started.

"I'd never been drunk before and we were at this party because everyone finished their GCSE. We weren't really old enough to drink-"

"No shit?"

"Don't interrupt," she laughed dragging out the words, "All of the toilets were taken in the house so I was waiting outside of this one when Flynn came up to talk to me-"

I laughed out loud for the third time today and the story wasn't even over. "His name was Flynn?"

"Yes. He was very cute! Let me finish!"

"Okay, soz."

"So we were talking and I was really drunk and I really had to go and....I peed! Don't laugh! You said you wouldn't judge me!” Laughing was an understatement. My stomach hurt and my eyes started to water.

"You pissed yourself?!"

"I didn't talk to anyone for a week, even my best friend for letting me get that drunk."

"Why didn't you go wee outside?"

"Well it's so easy for boys to do that isn't it? You can just whip it out, shake it off, and put it away. Girls have layers that they have to get through, and I'm a lady."

"A lady who wet herself."

"And what's your story?"

"And it appears that we're out of time."

"Oh no you don't!" She laughed wiping the corner of her eye and pouting, "You promised!"

"Alright I guess. I was out with one of my friends and his parents had just gotten divorced so he was living with his mum at the time. We'd went to a bar and I'd gotten so drunk that I forgot where I was-"

"That's it?"

"No, I wish it was but no. We went back to his place because my mum doesn't like me drinking and I didn't want to hear her nag. But when I got back to his place, I started stripping off."

"You didn't!"

"I did. I took off everything.... Everything. My friends mum was at work at the time but when she came home the next morning I was ass naked in her hallway sleeping on the floor...on my back...and it was morning...My friend had went in his room and closed the door. But, now every time I come home to visit him and his mum is there she winks at me and pinches my bum."

Rion was in tears the same way that I was a few minutes ago and I didn't even care that the story was embarrassing, because her laugh was as cute as she was. I looked at my phone to check the time and our shift would be over in five minutes. Any other day time would have dragged on, but it always seems when I'm here with her it goes by a little faster.

"I can't believe that." Rion spoke while wiping her eyes again.

"Well believe it, because it happens every time. Makes for a good story though." We both started to gather our things to leave but before we left the building, Rion tore a sheet of paper from her notebook and began to write on it.

"Here. Um, that's my number. I don't know about the party just yet because I have to check my work schedules and everything else, but I don't know. Just text me sometime before then?"

"Sure. I mean yeah of course I will.”

Rion grinned at me while biting her bottom lip before walking away and the walk home that usually took fifteen minutes now felt as if it only took five.

****

I closed the door behind me with an exhaled breath and a smile on my face before inhaling the scent of pine and citrus. Michelle poked her head out into the hallway that led to the door where I stood before she stepped out of the kitchen fully wearing pink rubber gloves, a pair of my favorite Green Bay sweats, and a t-shirt that also happened to be mine.

“Honey, I'm home."

"Bitches?"

"Excuse me?" I looked at my best mate confused as she crossed her arms across her chest after removing the gloves from her hands, tilting her head to the side as she spoke again.

"You said I have bitches, Styles. Apparently there's more to discuss."

I walked away from the door removing my work shirt and tossing it at Michelle. She tried to move out of the way and dodge the laundry that I'd threw at her but it still landed on her shoulder. She shrugged it off, causing it to land on the floor before shouting at me.

"I've just cleaned this entire apartment and you come in here making a mess! Pick it up and take it to you're room you quadruple nippled fuck."

"Girls don't mind my bonus nipples. It even sometimes becomes interesting foreplay, when I was having sex that is."

"Gross!"

I laugh and duck when she launches the shirt back to me causing it to land in in a pile on the kitchen floor. We both look at it and step over it before I grab two beers out of the refrigerator, one for myself and one for Chelle.When I try to hand her the beverage, she frowns at the twist off cap and then pouts at me causing me to scowl before I open it for her.

"You're so useless sometimes, Chelle."

"Says the man who doesn't clean, yet looks around at a spotless household that smells of cinnamon. I wonder who did that? Ah, it must have been the useless one. Now," Michelle spoke before clicking the neck of her beer with mine and then taking a sip, "What's this about my bitches?"

I chuckled as I took a gulp of my drink and headed for the living-room with Michelle close behind. We sat on the couch on on opposite ends of each other, relaxing after a long day as we usually do.

"Maybe not bitches in the plural sense. Maybe there's just one?"

Michelle stretched out on the couch putting her mitch-matched sock clad feet on my lap, drawing a displeased look from me but ignoring it entirely as she dramatically massaged her temples with her free hand.

"I can't deal with your game of clue today. The chemicals from the cleaning made my brain go fuzzy and I don't think the beer is helping. Just tell me what you think you know so I can tell you that you're wrong as usual."

I smiled at her, placing my half finished beer bottle on the table in front of us and then began massaging her calves causing her to close her eyes and hum in appreciation before taking another swig of her drink.

"Alison."

Michelle opened one of her eyes before quickly closing it again.

"What about her?"

"Was she a part of your plans B and C last night? Because something or someone tells me that she may have been." Michelle's eyes snapped open and she looked at me in shock. "It's okay if you like her. You can't help who you like."

"I don't like anyone," Michelle looked down briefly at her lap as she shrugged off my discovery. If I've learned anything about her from being her friend its that when she fails to make eye contact, she's lying. "Gianna stood me up last night and Alison was my backup plan. It's simple. I got what I wanted and left in the morning before she even woke up."

"Okay," I smirked at her before picking up my beer again, finishing what was left of it.

"I'm serious. I don't like anyone. I don't feel anything for anyone anymore. Senior year, up the ante, remember? I barely like you."

"Alright," I chuckled before pushing her legs off of me, returning to the kitchen to grab another drink.

"Harry!"

"I believe you, I believe you. You you're an emotionless drone," I spoke as I opened the refrigerator, "We need to go to the grocery store. This is getting ridiculous. We don't have anything in here besides beer, fizzy drinks, and water."

"There are plenty of noodle cups in the cabinet. We'll just tell people we're on an all liquid diet if we ever get visitors. We're not done talking about the other thing. Stop changing the subject. How did you even know I was at Alison's last night?"

I closed the door to the refrigerator with a smirk on my face walking past Michelle to go back into the living room. She followed behind me while lighting a candle that smells like oranges to keep the citrus scent going.

"Well? Come on Har. I don't want to have to chase you around the apartment all day for answers."

"Make me a noodle cup and bring me a bottle of water and I'll tell you."

"You were just in the kitchen!" Michelle speaks as she throws her lighter at me but does what I ask.

When she gets back, she hands me a fork and places the bottle of water on the table in front of me. I smile at her as a thank you before I speak.

"Rion."

"What?"

"Small world right? Or, small campus? Rion, is Alison's flatmate and she kind of, she heard you two last night. I mean, unless that wasn't you and there's another girl named Alison on campus? She said you guys kept her up because you both were too loud."

"There very well could be another Alison, Harry. It's not like there are only four lesbians that exist on earth. But Rion? The girl that you work with? The one that you have the hots in the pants for, Rion?"

"Yes and I don't just like her that way."

"Hm. Of course you do, you've only known her for three days..."

"What, hm? What do you have to say about her?"

"Oh, nothing except Alison calls her prudence. She says she's a real goody good and she's annoying."

"Thats sad," I say as I finish all that I was going to of my noodles leaving the rest for Michelle to eat. She takes the cup from my hands and takes a bite while looking at me to finish what I was going to say, "Rion says Alison's really nice and sweet."

“Well, I don't know. Rion may very well be Princess Peach. You know I don't do girly gossip. It gets on my last nerve. Alison just feels the need to talk to me when I'm there and its like shut the fuck up, girl. I didn't come over here to hear you talk, now get between my legs and-"

"Woah! Okay, and Mitchel is back. How are ya bro? I haven't really seen you in a few days."

"Fuck off Harry." Michelle laughs. "I hear the sordid details of you and the lads sexcapades all the time...well not you so much now, but you know what I was getting at."

"Yeah but, it's kind of different..."

"How?" Chelle quirked an eyebrow and turned her head looking to me for an answer that I'm not sure that I wanted to give her.

"Well, because... I um... and it's just that sometimes-"

"Wait! Harry you pervert! You get turned on by it don't you? It gives you a stiffy?"

"No!"

"Yes! Yes it does! You're turning all red!"

“No it doesn’t, Michelle!"

"Then what's your valid reason?"

I couldn't think of a lie fast enough and Michelle started to laugh, nasty snort and all. I took a pillow from the couch and threw it at her, making her fall backwards on the floor and stay there, using the pillow to her advantage as she lied down on the throw rug that covered the majority of the hardwood flooring in the living room. Our apartment was pretty nice considering that it was still school property, then again we did luck out putting in our bid in order to get into the newer buildings.

"Okay Hersh, I'll keep my dirty details to a minimum for the sake of your tight trousers. I can only imagine that, that gets uncomfortable. Anyway, did you ask prudence- sorry, Rion, to the party this weekend?"

"I did." I smile as I think about the neatly folded piece of paper in my pocket with her number written across it.

"What did she say?" Michelle looks up at me from her place on the floor.

"She said that she's not really that much of a party person." I smiled again a bit harder than I had before.

"So she's not going and she turned you down again? Maybe she is a prude. Don't worry about it Harry, there are plenty of other girls out here on campus just as smart, if not smarter than she is, prettier, and who will appreciate you for- What are you smiling about? Why are you so giddy from being turned down twice?"

I chuckled to myself while shaking my head and standing from my place on the couch, stretching before going towards my room.

"I didn't necessarily get turned down."

I could hear Michelle's footsteps close behind me as I walked into my room. She'd been in here. I can tell not only because of the clothes that she wore to clean that were mine, but because I could still faintly smell her perfume. Nothing was on the floor anymore and she even made my bed. I looked around the room and then back at her before I sat, grabbing one of the neatly placed pillows to put under my head, then lied back on it with my legs hanging over the edge of the mattress.

"Before you say anything, you'll be able to find your things. I just put everything where it’s supposed to normally go."

"I wasn't going to say anything besides thank you. I'm still buying a lock for my door, but thank you."

Michelle rolled her eyes. Something she calls a brainless trait. When she catches herself she covers her face in embarrassment before she continues to bother me, taking a seat next to me on the bed. "So how is Rion's telling you that she's not a party girl, not necessarily turning you down?"

"She gave me her number. You know, for someone who doesn't like to hang out with girls you surely do a lot of girly gossip. You're so nosey, Jesus."

"Oh please, Harrow. You wanted to tell me just as bad if not worse than I wanted to know. Are you going to call her tonight?"

“No. That's too forward and desperate. I'll text her tomorrow or something."

"You're such a teenaged girl. You think about things too much instead of just doing them. Sometimes I wonder if you have a bajingo where your penis should be. If she gave you her number its because she wants a call.”

"Go fuck off somewhere else Mitchel! And by the way, those joggers and that shirt are mine. Thief."

Michelle stood from the bed with a smirk on her face before she took off my shirt and my sweats, folding them precisely before she put them in my washing basket. I kept my eyes on her face when she looked back at me and I swear that I tried to keep my eyes on her face the entire time, but I would be lying if I said that my eyes didn't roam over her smooth skin when she wasn't looking at me. I closed my eyes quickly and turned my head away. Hearing her laugh was the only evidence that I had to let me know that she was still standing in my room.

"I didn't say take off my clothes right now. God, Chelle don't be so literal. Go dress yourself!"

"I have on underwear! And you took off your shirt when you came through the door. AND I've seen you walk around in your boxers plenty. Is there some sort of double standard because I'm a woman?”

"That's not the point! And yes there is! Please go put on trousers and a shirt?"

“Whatever, Harry. I'm going to bed. Clearly I'll have to sleep this way because it's hot as hell fire in my room. It's a shame that this is a new building but they still didn't bother to make sure that the ventilation was right before they stuck people in it. Good night and all that."

"Night." I looked towards Chelle and then looked away again as she began to walk out of my room, her nicely rounded bum bounced as she closed the door behind her.

****

Saturday came quickly. Too quickly for my liking, and I hadn't text Rion or called her at all. I didn't want to seem desperate, but perhaps waiting three days made it seem like I wasn't interested? I hadn't seen her at work for the past two days because she has two other jobs to juggle. I'd hoped that she could get off for today, however, even though I haven't said a word to her.

"Just call her. Stop being a chicken shit. The party is tonight, and I'm rooting for you, Styles." Michelle spoke as we walked down the aisles of Sainsbury Supermarket. We'd been here for nearly half an hour and had nothing in our cart except beer, noodle cups, frozen pizza's and a bottle of Goldschläger for tonight. Broke college students can afford alcohol when they can't afford anything else.

"Are we going to buy any real food, or is this about as good as it gets?" I asked, ignoring Michelle's comment.

"What? We've got plenty. Plus I think there are chicken nuggets in there and that's a delicacy for us. Don't avoid what I've said to you."

"I haven't avoided anything, and we would be able to get more than chicken nuggets and noodles if you would just call your parents."

Michelle hesitated before she looked back at me and then back down at her list. She doesn't call her parents much to ask for money if she can avoid it. Her mum isn't doing so well health wise and to the best of my knowledge she hasn't been for some years now. The doctors thought that she had leukemia, but apparently they've only just discovered that's not the case. I think it's what drives Michelle's dream to become a doctor. She's eager to find out what's going on with her mum so that she can be the one to cure it.

She glanced at her phone having an internal battle with herself on whether she should ring home or not. I felt bad for asking her and I normally wouldn't, but I'm running low on funds myself. I usually get a stipend every other week from my mum and paid every other Friday from my shitty job, but unfortunately I'm between pay checks and for some reason my mum is late.

Michelle decided against my idea putting her phone back in her pocket.

"We're in our last year of uni. What would it look like if we resorted to calling our parents to wire us food money? You call yours if you're so hungry."

"It would look like we're both working shit jobs barely making wage and paying to rent out the apartment that we have so that we can finish out this last year with a roof over our heads. I wouldn't ask you to usually, but is an emergency. I asked my parents last time. It's your turn."

“Well, we can just get rid of something then if we don't have enough." Michelle stopped the cart and began to sift through the contents inside it, moving over ten cups of noodles out of the way and the one bag of chicken nuggets that we had. When her hand landed on the alcohol, we both looked at each other and shook our heads no. "Fuck," Michelle groaned under her breath, "Fine I'll ask my parents tomorrow. Let’s just get this for now and get out of here."

When we left the grocery store, after loading all four of our bags into my car, Michelle got quiet while looking out the window. I still hadn't told her that Louis is planning on meeting up with me and the lads to drink before we go just to prove that he's not one of those people and usually, now days anyway, wherever Louis is Michelle is far away and vice versa. I figure that there's no better time to tell her rather than now while she's quiet, but at the same time I don't want to hurt her feelings. She seemed lost in thought, but there's still a smile on her face.

I cleared my throat causing her to look at me quizzically with an eyebrow raised.

"Um, so.."

"Yes?"

"About the party tonigh-"

"No you don't!" Michelle cut in not allowing me to finish what I was going to say as we pulled up to our apartment. "You're not cutting out of this. Gosh, Harry, I know that you want to be more serious and that this year and I'm sorry for not using the Ultimate Alarm the other day when you were in an alcoholic hibernation, but it's a Saturday. Can you not have fun on Saturdays?" Michelle frowned pouting a bit.

"I'm going to the party, if that's what that speech was pertaining to at all? I wasn't going to say that I'm not going."

"Oh. Well then by all means continue." She smiled this time, happy with herself because she didn't have to argue her case any further.

"Yeah, I um, I'm going to the party, but Louis wanted me and the lads to meet up with him before we go. Pre-gaming and all that." I spoke quickly hoping that she didn't mind or hear what I said for that matter. Her eyes stayed straight forward, looking outside the windshield before she replied.

"All of you?"

"Yeah. He kind of asked about it earlier this week when I saw him...But you know we'll hang out at the party and stuff."

She nodded her head. It was the only response she'd given as her eyes stayed on the boot of the car in front of us.

"Are you alright with it? I can always-"

"Don't worry about it, Harrow. You were his friends first after all, and we live with each other. I'm tired of seeing your ugly mug anyway." Michelle laughed while patting my cheek and I shoved her hand off of me. "Plus, we all know I have bitches that I need to tend to so it's fine."

She covers up how she truly feels with a joke and all of a sudden I feel guilty.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah it's fine. You're very much a pleaser, Harrow. Did you know that?"

"What are you talking about?" I asked as I parked the car and grabbed the groceries out of the back seat to go upstairs.

"You can't please everyone. In the end someone is going to have to be let down or hurt. That's the way of life. It's okay to be selfish sometimes, Harry. That's what I mean."

Michelle sighed as she walked ahead of me, using her keys to unlock the door to our flat. I put the groceries and my things down in the kitchen before I went for a wee, all the while trying to figure out where the hell that last bit of our conversation was coming from, but when I came out of the bathroom she was back to acting like her normal self.

"Since you're leaving me to fend for myself tonight," Michelle spoke holding up two double shot glasses filled to the brim with alcohol, "We didn't buy this for nothing." She spoke in reference to the Goldschläger that ate up the majority of our money and bit her bottom lip while smiling at me.

I winced, already feeling the burn of the liquid going down my throat, before looking at my watch.

"It's only five. No one is going to start drinking until at least nine. You're trying to kill me. I said sorry for agreeing to go with Louis and the lads. Why are you making me do this?"

"Harry, when we were first years we drank early all the time."

"And my liver paid for it."

"Oop, Harry what's that?"

I looked over my shoulder confused before I looked back over to Michelle.

"What's what?"

"Is that a bajingo between your legs where you penis should be?" Michelle started to laugh while pointing in that general area.

"Piss off Chelle!" I spoke before walking up to the table and grabbing the shot that she'd placed there for me. I held it up to eye level inspecting it first. There was something floating in the glass.

"It's actually gold," Michelle said seeing the confusion written clean across my face, "hence the name Goldschläger."

"So we can afford to drink gold flecks in alcohol, but we can't afford real food?"

"I'm going to call my parents tomorrow I said, Mr. Sensable. Now shut up and down it!"

I looked at Michelle shaking my head as we clinked glasses and turned the shot up to our lips. The burn of it made my eyes water and when I looked at Michelle, hers were doing the same. I picked up the bottle on the table and read it before Michelle took it from my hands, pouring us both another shot.

"This is forty-five percent alcohol."

"Yes. It's strong. So, so strong." She nodded as if she already knew.

"We'll be trashed if we keep drinking this. We probably wouldn't even make it to the party." I spoke before I walked over to the refrigerator to grab us beers, hoping that she would switch substances.

"No we won't. I won't let us miss it. But legend has it that this is supposed to get you drunk quickly. The gold flecks supposedly make microscopic cuts in your esophagus so the alcohol can get into your bloodstream faster. Cheers." Michelle handed me the shot glass again as if after hearing that I would want to drink it again.

"Michelle that's horrible. I don't want to-"

"Just take one more shot of it and then we'll just sip beer until you leave to go meet up with Louis and the rest of the lads."

Her eyes were pleading and I couldn't tell her no. We both flipped our heads back as he downed the shots and with in a peer pressured hour, ten shots and two beers later, there was a sloppy grin on my face and I my vision was doubled. Michelle however seemed fine.

"Your alcohol tolerance has lowered dramatically. It’s almost seven. What time were you going to go to Louis'?"

"In an hour."

"I'll drive you." She spoke as she sat against the couch taking out her phone and laughing at my facial expression.

"You had just as much to drink as I have. You can't drive."

"I can. I've got a buzz but that's all. You're trashed. I only had three shots. The other seven you took alone." I looked at her in shock. How could she have tricked me that way? I swear she was drinking too. Michelle laughed and I could already tell that she was recording me. "I'm putting this on instagram."

"Don't! I really hate you." I slurred while pointing at her, only causing her to laugh more.

"You need to loosen up, especially for your hot date tonight. There's no point in you being so uptight at the start of the quarter. I'll let you go back to your boring self when Monday comes around again." She pulled her phone away from me as I tried to take it from her. "You might want to check your phone by the way. It seems you have a message."

I looked down at the notification that showed on the screen, squinting my eyes to try and focus on what was there. When my eyes adjusted, I almost felt sober.

Rion: I was starting to think that maybe you'd forgotten about me. I checked my schedule and I'm actually free tonight. I don't know how long I'll stay, but I'll meet you there. Alison is going so I'll just be with her.

My eyes widened before I scrolled up to see what I supposedly said.

To Rion: Hiiiii, It's Harry. Sorry for being such a stupid arsehole and not texting you sooner, but would you still want to go to that party tonight?

"You texted Rion?"

"Yup."

"But I-I'm not...Fuck!"

"What? You like her right? I've done you a favor."

"Yeah, but—“

"No but's. You either like her or you don't and if you do and if she likes you, which she does, obviously, then you have the go ahead to call. She wanted you to call. She clearly likes you. She's excited and so are you. You're just nervous. You haven't been on a date in six months or maybe more? But, this should be like riding a bike, if you will. I've removed your kickstand, now all you have to do is pedal."

I looked at Michelle and shook my head before I went in my room to find something to wear for tonight, deciding on the usual skinny jeans and oversized shirt, leaving a few of the buttons in the front undone as I stumbled into the living room to wait for Michelle. She reappeared from her room shortly after I did wearing black leather looking tight pants and some sort of red cut off shirt along with her fake glasses and red lips. She looked beautiful and I could only think that she was doing so for Alison.

As much as Chelle would doubt it, I think the player may have taken an interest in one that's supposed to be a pawn in her dating game. All I can hope for is that Alison treats her right. She deserves someone who would.

"What's the point of wearing a shirt if it’s barely buttoned, Styles? And it's see through. I mean I guess kudos for buttoning the three buttons you did bother with correctly." It could be because I'm drunk, but I could have sworn that I saw her look me up and down...not necessarily in a friendship manner. I ignored her while grinning and standing from the couch before she grabbed the Goldschläger again pouring us both another shot. "One for the road?"

"I'll take it if you take it first you lying Judas. I'm already drunk enough as it is."

Michelle cringed before she threw her head back downing the shot, eyes watering again by how strong of a burn the cinnamon schnapps left behind. I did the same and then took another for the hell of it since I wouldn't be driving tonight. Michelle eyed me as I walked down the stairs and to her car as if I would fall.

"Stop watching me and walk yourself."

"Someone has to watch out for you. You're clumsy enough as it is, bambi. Adding alcohol to the mix is a disaster waiting to strike."

"Says the absolute asshole who got me drunk in the first place."

"Oh yeah...That's right." Michelle smiled victoriously before she spoke again, clearing her throat before hand, "Uh, so, since I'm taking you to Louis' place where does he stay? I know he must have moved from where we lived before..." Her face dropped slightly.

"With his bird about five blocks over... Sorr-"

"It's fine." Michelle started her car, looking through the windscreen straight ahead like she did earlier as she drove and listened to the directions I gave her, telling he where to turn.

When we pulled up in front of the house, Niall was outside on the porch with a beer in his hand, smoking a cigarette. No doubt because Hollie put him out of the house, not wanting anything to smell like stale smoke.

"Harry! Hi Mitch!" He waved to us as he stumbled over to the car clearly drunk himself and louder than usual. "You're staying too, Michelle?" She shook her head no while smiling half way at Niall as I got out of the car. "You should stay. This thing, whatever it is, between you and Lou is ridiculous. You guys were so close and it can get there again. Just get out of the car and-"

"I can't Ni, I have somewhere to be, myself." Michelle's eyes begged Niall to be more quiet but he didn't get the hint. He was going to speak again, but was cut off by Lou as he walked out onto his porch with Hollie close behind. He didn't notice that Michelle was with us until I moved to walk towards the house.

"Lads!"

I looked from Michelle to Louis then back to Michelle again and as I did I saw her eyes widen right before she cursed under her breath. Louis paused in his steps, and his eyebrows drew together slightly before he spoke.

"Michelle." He nodded at her as a greeting gesture making everything more awkward.

"Louis."

"Mitch can stay right?" In that moment everyone looked at Niall as he took another drunken, oblivious drag off of his cigarette and it appeared that everyone wanted to punch him in the face, including me.

"No actually I was just leaving. Enjoy your night boys. Be safe, Harrow. I'll see you later yeah?"

I nodded my head before she spoke a simple "good," and sped off as quickly as her car could take her. Louis took a deep breath, shaking his head before smiling at us and inviting us in for more booze. I honestly didn't think that I would drink anymore tonight, but after that I felt the need to.

Niall dropped his cigarette and stepped on it while shrugging his shoulders at me as we followed behind Louis into the house where everyone else sat.

“Read the room next time, yeah?” I spoke under my breath hoping that only Niall would hear me.

“What room? It’s stupid that they don’t talk anymore. For fucks sake he was going t’ marry—”

“I know, Niall. I know.” I interrupted Niall mid sentence and could not help but notice the hitch in my jaw, that became more sore than it had been in a while.

We all spoke as we walked in the house and I put the topic behind me in order to proceed on with the rest of the night and for the first time in a while I was happy that the liquor continued to flow. It seemed to put me and everyone else around in the right mindset for one of the biggest parties of the year, but Louis still seemed somewhat flustered about seeing Michelle for the first time since they called things off. I know Michelle probably didn't feel the best either and I tried to text her to see if she was alright, but I got no response.

Chelle: Are you okay, Chelle? I'm so sorry about that. Didn't know that he would come outside.

Though I got no response to my text, I expected to see Michelle as soon as we got to The Barn. The title of the bar was fitting as it was out closer towards farmland and covered in red paint as it actually was previously a stable. It was crowded with everyone from students to professors indulging in what the night had to offer, but as I skimmed the crowd I began to get more anxious. We had been here for an hour. I was sure that by now that I would have run into her. Taking out my phone, I’d opted to give her a ring, but before I could unlock my screen my phone began to buzz in my hand.

"Hello?" I slurred on the line while closing my opposite ear with my finger so that I could hear whoever it was I was talking to.

"Harry?" The deafening music and noise in the background made it almost impossible to hear.

"No, this is Harry." hiccup “Who is this?"

"Harry, it's Rion can you hear me?"

I walked away from Niall, Darragh, and the rest of the lads as they prepared to make Niall do a keg stand; swaying as I went.

"Who is this?" I repeated trying to hear better, hoping that it was Michelle calling me back in response to the text I’d sent.

"Harry, it's Rion. Can you hear me now?"

"Rion?"

"Yes."

"Hi." I smiled as if she were in front of me, when in all actuality I was in the middle of the crowded street surrounded by a sea of strangers. A car honked at me just as I was about to cross back towards the party, causing me to step back so that I didn't get hit.

"Where are you?" She laughed into the phone causing me to smile again.

“Outside enjoying the weather. Are you here? At the party I mean."

"I am," when she spoke I could hear the smile in her voice, over the excessive chattering and music in the background. "Can you come to the doors near the front of the pub and meet me there?"

"Sure. Stay on the phone with me? You know, just until I find you." I slurred into the phone but Rion laughed again nonetheless.

"Of course...Is that you in the middle of the street? Please be careful if it is."

I looked around, confused as to how she could see me but I couldn't see her. I walked towards the pub again forcing my bleary eyes to focus until I spotted her, standing on a large rock that was just outside the door. When I reached her, I held out my hand to help her down. She took it and called me a gentleman before I said anything else.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" I asked as I looked down at her in her jean jacket and simple black dress that clung to her chest then flowed down to her feet.

"I guess. It's not that bad. Ten times better than the last party I went to already."

I laughed.

"You haven't drunk anything?"

"One mixed drink, but I didn't really finish it. Are you enjoying yourself?" She asked me as we began to walk to nowhere in particular.

"I am. A little bit more now, actually.” A slight blush came to Rion's cheeks before she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and I cleared my throat to continue. "Where's your flatmate?"

"Alison? I'm not sure. She said she was going to meet up with a friend of hers. The same girl that she was with the last time no doubt."

My mind went to Michelle as I checked my phone again and still I had no messages from her.

"So, she left you here?"

"I haven't seen her in the last hour... She could have. But if she did, I have no real way home now. She was my ride. I knew I should have just driven on my own."

I didn't say anything more, but I had the feeling that Alison bailed. I might have an idea as to who with and where to as well.

"Well, are you ready to go?" We ended up closer to the street facing in the direction of the campus. "The night is oddly nice for the end of August and the sky isn't as cloudy as it could be. We might miss getting rained on if we leave now."

"Do you have your car?" She asked looking towards me as if it were a deal breaker.

“No, but I would walk back with you. The parties aren't really my thing anymore. I just came to catch up with some friends. It was nice to get out. We're only about a 15 minute walk away from campus."

Rion looked towards the pub and then back at me again before she smiled and answered me sweetly.

"I'd love to get out of here with you."

Rion and I began walking, but as soon as we got a little bit past the corner where the party was being held at she stopped, causing me to stop as well and look back at her with an eyebrow raised.

"Are you going to tell any of your friends that you're leaving?" She asks while holding her dress up just past her ankles so it doesn't touch the ground.

I grin at her, absolutely ecstatic that she's giving me the chance to walk her back to her dorm room. If those tossers want to know where I went they know how to call. I guess Mitch really did do me a favor and I might owe her one after this.

"Oh, um...No. They're having a good time. I'm sure they won't even notice that I left. It's okay. Besides, I'm getting kind of tired anyway. I could always just shoot them a message."

Rion nods her head in agreement before we begin to walk again. Bunching the material of her dress in one hand in hopes not to step on it, I couldn't help but chuckle as I looked at her.

"Its so long. I love this dress but it's a bit of a hassle to wear." Rion comments, already knowing the reason for my amusement. I gently grab her hand to stop her once more and this time she looks at me with as soft smile forming on her lips.

"Here, let me..." I trailed off, gently taking her hand that had the fabric of her dress, causing her to let it go. Our eyes met as I slowly went down on my knees in front of her. If I would have gone too fast I'm sure I would have lost my balance or worse. It's almost a wonder that I can form a coherent sentence. All that I can hope is that I don't completely reek of alcohol.

I take the hem of the dress and tie a knot in it that's hopefully loose enough to undo when she gets home if she wants, and high enough so that she doesn't have to worry about stepping on it or have it sweep on the ground to get torn or dirty; just above her ankles. I'm not going to lie, when I was down there I looked at her feet and what I could see of her legs. I won't say I have a foot fetish or anything weird like that, but if a girls toes looks like they can pick up an orange with ease and whip it at the back of your head, it's kind of a turn off for me.

Her feet were beautiful aside from a few cuts here and there on her the tops of them. She even had a plaster or two on one of them, but somehow she even made that okay because they matched the purple coloring of her nail polish.

I stood after I was finished, and by the look on her face I must have been down there for a reasonable amount of time to make a knot, at least I hope I was. When I was looking at her feet, I had to make it not so noticeable that that's what I was doing. I don't want her to think I'm some kind of a freak.

"Thank you," she exclaimed while smiling, "I don't know why I didn't think of that."

"Yeah I saw some other girl do it and thought it made sense."

Rion smiled at me again and as we walked next to each other, her hand grazed mine; once, twice, three times before I grabbed it in my own. I saw her look over at me through her peripheral vision. It was a quick glance but I saw it nonetheless. I also saw her bite her bottom lip to try to prevent her smile from getting any bigger than it already was.

I didn't want to bust her out and embarrass her, but I did want to tease her a little. I gently squeezed her hand while biting my bottom lip to stop my smile from spreading much like she did, causing her to laugh before I changed the subject.

"The sky is really clear tonight. I can see Orion's Belt. It really might not rain after all."

"My namesake." Rion smirked.

"Sorry, what?" I spoke noticing that the party sounds were fading farther and farther into the distance.

"My mum is really into Greek mythology and constellations, so my name and its spelling came from Orion himself." She pointed towards the sky and the huge constellation before she looked back at me, slipping her hand back into mine purposefully.

"Cool story. And I'm not being a sarcastic asshole or anything by the way. That makes your name original." hiccup "And I like it a lot. I think my mum named me Harold because it was the only male name that begins with H and that comes after G that she could think of. Her creativity stopped after she realized that she wanted to put her kids names in alphabetical order." Rion laughed and nudged my arm.

"Don't talk about your mum. I think she might have chosen the name because Harry fits you. I've always liked that name."

"Have you now?" I asked with a smirk on my face and an eyebrow raised.

"I have."

"It's because of Prince Harry isn't it? Be honest."

"No it's-"

"Tell the truth."

"He's just so cute. He's the dreamiest ginger I've ever seen besides Ed Sheeran. All due respect to his royalness." Rion spoke causing me to laugh and shake my head before she continued. "Then again, all of the Harry's I've had the pleasure of meeting were pretty fit." She said looking over at me and then back up at the velvety black night sky speckled with beautiful stars.

"How many of us have you met?"

"Well...Just one so far."

I looked over at her as we finally reached a street that had lamp posts and she let out a small chuckle that sounded as if she were clearing her throat. Her eyes caught the light that lined the streets making her irises seem to brighten even though her eye color was dark brown.

We'd finally reached campus just as the clouds started to roll in at two in the morning and from there, I followed Rion's lead back to her dorm. In my three full years at Cambridge, I'd never been to this one in particular, but apparently, Michelle has. I saw her car in the parking lot. Something told me that she would be here, seeking comfort for the blow she received earlier. The sooner that she realizes that fucking doesn’t fix what hurts her, the better off she'll be. Part of me wants to bang on the door as soon as we get to the room, but I decide against it. All I cab hope that she’ll talk to someone eventually. If that someone happens to be Alison, then I'll be happy for her, I guess.

"Thank you, Harry. For getting me home safe and asking me to come out. I had fun for the amount of time I was there for." Rion leaned against her door, smiling while looking up at me.

"It was no problem. Thank, you for, you know, coming." I could hear myself wanting to ramble before I closed my mouth.

“Good night, then." Rion spoke, still smiling and then pausing.

"Goodnight."

Rion turned to unlock her door and when she got it open I turned to leave, but before I could go I could feel her pull my hand. When I turned she had a pout on her face.

"You know, you're really horrible at picking up on signals."

Huh?

"I-"

"I waited so patiently as well."

"I'm-"

"Three days. You didn't text me or say anything for three days. I didn't know what to think. I still don't."

"You're-"

"Oh shut up, Harry."

Rion crossed her arms over her chest and out of shock I closed my mouth, not really sure what to say or do. Rion squinted her eyes at me before shaking her head and turning to go into her little dorm before I stopped her, pulling her to me before I kissed her deeply, pushing her against the wall a bit to show her how it should be done.After it was over Rion sighed in content with her eyes still closed before reopening them slowly. I grinned against her lips before speaking knowing that I’d won her over.

"I didn't know what to think either to be honest. It's been a while."

Rion grabbed me by the front of my shirt, bringing my lips back down to hers.She pulled away, kissing the corner of my mouth making a trail to my ear and then kissing me right beneath my earlobe. There was no tongue involved at all but it still had been the most action than I'd gotten in months and it was still enough to leave us both breathless at the end of her antics.

"Do you know what to think now?” She pushed her door open, speaking before she closed the door behind herself with a cheeky smile.

I’m not sure how long I stood there with a goofy grin on my face after it was all said and done, but when I got to the stairs my drunken mind allowed my legs to work properly and carry me down while still having the memory replay in my head.

I'd only gotten through the doors of the exit of her dormitory before my brain went to my pants, thinking that I might be able to get a good wank before I fell asleep with Rion's lips pressed against my jaw as the mental muse. Just when I thought about flushing any possible tissues instead of putting them in my bin, my phone rang.

"Harry?" Rion whispered into the phone, sounding on the agitated side.

"Rion? What's wrong?"

"She's at it again." Rion exhaled into the phone before I heard the creaking of a door, sounding as if it were being shut.

"Who's at what?"

"Alison and her, friend."

I started to chuckle, thinking of all of the ways that I would tease Michelle tomorrow when I saw her. I know that she's been active, but damn. She's got to be insatiable. I pictured her and Alison, terribly sweaty, gasping for air-

"Harry?"

"Sorry, what did you say?" Rion's voice snapped me out of getting too carried away in inappropriate thought again. Thoughts that I shouldn't venture into about my best pal.

"I really want to be able to sleep without being disrupted. Do you mind if I come to yours? I'll sleep on the couch, the floor, a chair. Anything you wouldn't mind sparing really."

“No, of course I don't mind."

Oh god.

"Are you sure? Should you ask your flatmate first? I wouldn't want to intrude on you or him."

My mind was swimming with a thousand things. Minor details that had the potential to be major. Is my room clean? When is the last time that I had a girl in my room that wasn’t Michelle? Do we have water bottles that I can offer Rion when we get into my flat if she's thirsty? Why does Rion think that Mitch is a guy?

“No… I uh, I'm alone for the night, actually. My flatmate is staying somewhere else I think." In your roommates' room, disrupting you currently.

"Thank you so much." Rion breathed out, sounding somewhat relieved.

"Yeah no problem. I'll turn around now."

"Oh shit, did you get far? I'm so sorry."

"No it's fine. I just got down the street a bit." I spoke as I neared her building again.

I saw her walking out in the same clothes she was wearing before. When she got to me, she thanked me again before we took the surprisingly short walk towards my flat.

"You live in the new buildings? Fancy."

"Yeah, it's alright. For it being new, the ventilation sucks in Mitch's room, but that's the only complaint we have."

I unlocked the door and turned the knob saying a silent prayer as we walked in, but I'd forgotten that Michelle cleaned the whole place, including my room despite my protest for her not to. It was the first time that I’d been happy that she didn’t listen to me.

"It's really nice, Harry. You were being modest." Rion spoke as she tiptoed through the apartment, stopping in the living-room and taking a seat for herself before removing her sandals. "Really clean for two lads."

"Oh, actually-"

"Sorry, Harry. I don't want to interrupt, but do you think I could use the restroom first? I'm bursting to go."

I laughed while running my hand through my hair. "Sure. It's just down the hall. We wouldn't want a repeat of your last party."

Rion turned red, covering her mouth in a laugh and speaking to me as she walked down the hall.

"I really still can't believe I told you that."

While she was gone, I grabbed extra blankets from the linen closet and laid out a t-shirt and a pair of shorts of mine for her to wear on my bed. I also grabbed a bottle of water and put it on my desk for her in case she was thirsty, thankful that I made Michelle put some of those noodle cups back in exchange for it. Before I made my bed on the couch, I went into Michelle's room to steal one of her pillows but I’d gotten distracted easily. On her bedside table was a picture of the both of us taken last year. We were both pretty out of it and you can clearly tell in the photo, but in the midst of all the insanity Michelle was still alert and smiling at me while I was laughing and pulling her shirtsleeve with my teeth.

When I heard Rion leaving the bathroom I quickly left from Michelle's room, placing the photograph back down where I got it from and closing her bedroom door behind me.

"You'll be in my room. I've laid you out some things to make you more comfortable."

"Awe, Harry. I can take the couch really. I don't want to kick you out of your bed."

"No you won't. Now, go to bed. Good night, but for real this time."

Rion eyed me as she nodded her head in agreement, a slight grin on her lips.

“Yes for real this time.” She spoke before her bottom lip was drawn into her mouth. The liquor I consumed tonight made me do the same as I looked her up and down shamelessly, grinning as I did so.

I started to take a step backwards only to notice that Rion advanced forwards causing me to stop in my tracks. Our lips connected again more fervently than they had before, before I started to walk again leading Rion back into my bedroom.

#Harry Styles #harry styles slow burn #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction

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otonymous · 3 years

Text

Fever Dreams (MLQC Gavin - NSFW)

Description: Gavin lets you in on the contents of his wet dreams… Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language — reader discretion is advised. Potential trigger warnings: mentions of IV lines, hospitals, minor injuries, brief mentions of trauma, Eli’s sense of impending doom, vaginal intercourse, profanity, masturbation Word Count: ~3K words (~15 mins of sweet, sweet hospital lovemaking 🤣) Author’s Notes: Close your eyes. Imagine that Gavin is by your side — muscles flexed and lips so close they practically brush against the shell of your ear when he whispers the following:

“I hope you enjoy this fic, which was based on and inspired by Gavin’s Whispers/Biting The Ear (咬耳) ASMR from the CN server, beautifully translated by the incredibly talented and gracious @cheri-translates.” 🤣

In all seriousness, I’m extending a massive THANK YOU to the sweet @cheri-translates for providing me with the awesome goods that literally left me breathless! This fic would not have been possible without you! 💕 With that being said, hope you all enjoy it and happy reading! 🥰

👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼

It was easy to forget at times; that Gavin was made of flesh and bone like everyone else.

That lionhearted though he was, the man wasn’t invincible, no matter what he would have you believe: hiding winces behind smiles and brushing off bruises blooming blue like they were nothing at all.

It was little wonder then that when the phone rang that night, it was Eli’s voice on the other line. And as you stood before the bathroom mirror, wrapped in nothing but a towel and watching the colour drain from your face, the stilted manner of his speech made it increasingly clear he was unused to delivering bad news.

“I’m gonna kill him when I see him,” Gavin swears under his breath, the hand with the IV drip attached pulling into a tight fist by his side.

Now you understood why.

“They’re making a fuss over nothing, keeping me in hospital for observation. It’s just a few scratches.”

Amber eyes train in your direction, the earnestness in their tender depths melting the edge of the anger you felt at always being the last to know anytime your lover got hurt. And when he tries to smile despite the bulky bandage plastered on his left cheek, your resistance falters.

“ ‘They’re making a fuss over nothing.’ I bet you’d say that even if you were missing a limb, Gavin Bai.”

Suddenly exhausted by the anxiety that made you rush to the Special Task Force hospital upon receiving Eli’s call, you slump into the chair at his bedside, still annoyed but relived to find that he was well enough to laugh at your sarcasm.

“Hmm, I must be in a lot of trouble if you’re calling me by name like that.”

Smirk spreading on that handsome face, his eyes take on a mischievous twinkle that makes him altogether impossible to resist. You couldn’t help but think of that rough and tumble high school senior who threw furtive glances in your direction every time he walked past in the halls, lip cut and face bruised.

“Come. It’s too late to go home now and you can’t sleep on the chair like that. Join me on the bed.”

Voice breaking through your reverie, Gavin holds out the hand that wasn’t hooked to the drip — large, strong and inviting. You hesitate, fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you look towards the door.

“I-I really shouldn’t. We’re in a hospital and there won’t be enough room for the two of us. You, especially, need a good night’s sleep, being injured—”

Three dull pats sound in quick succession to interrupt you. Turning your head, you see Gavin scooting to one side of the bed, hand beckoning towards the newly vacated space. “The beds here are larger than the ones in your average hospital. STF perk, I guess. But if you insist on refusing then…I guess I’ll just have to accompany you in sleeping sitting up—”

Relenting with a click of the tongue, you snatch the pillow from his grasp just as he begins propping it up behind his back, sliding it beneath his head as you gingerly crawl in next to him.

“That’s my girl.”

Gavin’s whisper is electric in your ear, low and seductive in a way that made you question the innocence of his motives, wondering if he was already aware of the sensations his body pressed to the side of yours was eliciting. His lips curve in a smile on your forehead, breath dancing hot across skin. And when he reaches for you, the sight mesmerizes: long, tapered fingers smoothing slow along the strands of your hair.

“Eli must’ve called while you were still in the shower. You didn’t even have time to dry your hair, did you? Look at how wet it is.”

And though you were on the verge of telling him that it wasn’t only your hair that was wet, you thought better of it. There was a heaviness in his tone, weighed down by the concern that inevitably arose every time Gavin thought you weren’t taking care of yourself: encouraging you with bites of the BBQ pork rice he brought in takeout containers whenever you skipped meals during late nights at the office, draping his jacket over your shoulders when you shook from the cold — having decided on form over function in a lightweight but pretty new dress worn especially to impress on date nights.

“Don’t worry, it’s almost dry anyway.”

“Hmm.” Faint displeasure taints his acknowledgment, but you close your eyes to the furrow in his brows, unable to focus on anything other than the touch of his fingers on your skin — calloused tips tracing the line of your jaw to traipse over the chin until finally coming to rest on your lower lip. He is so close you can feel the tail end of your exhalation being drawn into Gavin’s next breath when he says:

“I know I really scared you this time. I’m sorry. I was careless, but it won’t happen again. Please don’t be mad, okay?”

Eyes opening to the sight of his, you study the specks of gold embossed in amber, beautifully familiar. See your reflection in the dark pupils holding your face in loving regard. Felt your heart chill at the thought of Gavin one day not returning home. And when the sting of tears arrives to redden the tip of your nose, you turn away, unwilling to add to his burdens with your own.

“All I ask…is that you be open with me. I know you want to protect me, Gavin. You don’t want me to worry. But it’s much worse to have to guess about whether or not you’re lying just to be kind. I’m a grown woman and your partner, so please don’t handle me with kid gloves. Let me take care of you too, sometimes.”

Staring at the patterns on the curtain drawn around the bed, you listen for the rhythm of his breath — slow and even in the ensuing silence and punctuated only by the intermittent beeps of machinery, the weight of your concerns slowly sinking in before he finally relents.

“Okay. I won’t keep anything from you anymore. I promise. So please…could you let me just…”

A hand wraps around your waist, grip firm yet gentle as he pulls you close beneath the thin sheet. You feel his mouth on the nape of your neck, Gavin’s kisses falling hot and insistent between muffled words.

“…hold you, like this?”

Nodding, you bite your lip, barely suppressing a moan to feel his fingers crawl beneath your shirt; warming themselves on the soft skin of your belly, tracing circles about the navel.

“Seven days. It’s been…hmm…seven days since I’ve last held you. It’s too long.”

The last statement is breathed into the curve of your neck and shoulder, your boyfriend inhaling deeply as he buries his face into the space, the embrace around you tightening as if touch alone could communicate all the longing he wasn’t quite able to put into words.

“It was a difficult mission. I couldn’t sleep. And anytime I did, I would dream of you. Always of you. Want to know what we did?”

Cotton-mouthed, you resort to nodding again.

“Then be a good girl and turn around first. I want…need to see you…that’s good. In my dreams, we’d be together, just like this. I’d have you in my arms, so close I could feel every inch of your body…how hot it is…just like now. No, don’t move away. I like it. I’ve got a fever, but I’m also feeling chilled. I want your heat.”

Those amber eyes are dark now, half-lidded and veiled with lust — proof that Gavin’s increasingly shallow breathing was not an exaggeration. It was a look you recognized; the expression his handsome face wore the moment he saw you again after a mission had kept him away for too long. It typically resulted in entire weekends spent in bed, limbs entwined as Gavin made love to you over and over again.

Until you were boneless and spent.

Until your lover was satisfied that he was thoroughly reacquainted with every curve of your body.

You reach for him: trembling fingers tracing the line of his brow, thumb circling the apple of his cheek. Gavin closes his eyes, exhalation shaky as he nuzzles into your palm to lay a kiss on that, too.

“Your touch feels cool on my skin.”

“Oh! I’m sorry—”

“No. Don’t be.” Fingers curling about the wrist that pulled back, Gavin gently guides your hand towards his forehead. “It’s nice. I like it. But…my back is warm too. Do you think you could help me lower the temperature there?”

Swallowing, you start to inch your hands towards the open back of his hospital gown. Gavin softly groans to feel your fingers running along the ridge of his shoulder blades, caressing defined muscles and faded scars you had committed to memory long ago.

“Is this all right?”

Now his turn to nod, Gavin’s head drops back, accentuating the bob of his prominent Adam’s apple in that strong, thick neck.

“I’m...ah…also feeling hot here.”

Large palms fall over the back of your hands, guiding them over his rib cage until they find themselves on the hard muscles of Gavin’s abdomen. Thighs pressing together beneath your skirt, you trace that defined V-line — touch featherlight in a way that draws out a shudder, goosebumps blooming across the expanse of Gavin’s skin.

Suddenly, you freeze to hear footsteps approaching in the hallway beyond the door. And just when you start to pull away, Gavin stops you with a whisper:

“Don’t worry. The nurse has already been in to check on me tonight. They won’t be back again, unless…unless they see that my heart rate has become unusually high.”

He winks.

“Besides, if they find you here, I’ll just say that, um…I’m afraid of sleeping by myself in the dark.”

That smirk again. You wonder at what point your boyfriend had become so cheeky, knowing just the right things to say to get his way.

“Could you help me? I’m burning up…right here.”

Lower and lower, he guides your hands, leaving them to their own devices when they reach the waistband of his boxers. Barely breathing, you watch as the expression on his face transforms from anticipation to euphoria the moment you slip past the elastic, fingers circling his hardened length with a loose grip.

“Officer, you weren’t lying!”

Gaze already heavy with want, the chuckle Gavin lets out in response has never sounded so sexy. “It’s because I’m running a fever. Or perhaps…it’s because I’m thinking of you. Do you think we should…make it even hotter?”

You wet your lips, feeling Gavin twitch in your hand at the sight; feel the vein pulsing on the underside of that thick shaft as he continues to swell in size. Firming up your grip, you begin to stroke in earnest, trying to maintain your rhythm despite the distraction of your own throbbing pussy, despite the way you grew increasingly wet to envision him sliding into your depths, satin panties clinging to the lines of your folds.

Smoothing your thumb over the liquid arousal beading at the tip of his cock, you draw wide, slick circles over velvet skin — paying especial attention to the ridge just below the swollen head because you loved how Gavin sounded when caught in the throes of ecstasy. It pleased you to pleasure him — the man who never thought twice about putting you before himself.

Always so strong, always fearless, you loved to watch him fall apart. Over you. Beneath you. In you. Held in the palm of your hand or folded to your embrace. You could feel the tension leaving his body — worn out and battered — each time he returned to your side from a mission, the trauma of all the things he couldn’t talk about seeping from every pore as you sought to show him love with the swing of your hips, the kisses you showered upon his sweat-soaked face. With the normalcy only the simplicity of a home-cooked meal could restore. “I love you,” he’d smile and say, amber eyes blinking once, twice…as if Gavin couldn’t quite believe you were real. “I really do.”

“This is the first time someone has stayed with me in the hospital, let alone shared my hospital bed.” Gavin’s voice is low, thick with emotion in between shuddering gasps elicited by each tug along his length. “Who would’ve thought that...even at a time like this…I’d be lucky enough not to be alone.”

“I’d never let you be lonely,” you say with a sudden vehemence that surprises even you. “Never again.”

He smiles, gentle eyes glistening when his large hand approaches to cup your face. Gavin touches you as if holding something of infinite importance, “Angel” falling from his lips in a soft utterance.

“I don’t think I can sleep tonight. I don’t want to. What about you? Will you…stay up with me?…Help my fever break—”

You kiss him deeply, swallowing his words even as your tongue pushes past teeth to meet Gavin’s in reunion. You had missed him; missed the way he tasted, the hint of mint that lingered in the breath you shared, as if your very lives were as entwined as your bodies in embrace.

To lose him was to lose yourself.

And so, you give yourself over to the man who gave so much and asked for so little in return.

“Then I won’t sleep either. I want to stay with you.”

Throwing one last glance at the door, you rise to your knees, skirt bunching at the waist as you straddle his hips. Eyes wide, Gavin starts to move before you stop him, saying “Let me” as you push him back onto the bed before the IV line could pull taut.

You loved how Gavin looked at you, the artless way he wore his heart on his sleeve — showing in the pink of his cheeks, the blush creeping all the way to the tips of pierced ears. It was a side of him only you were privy to; unguarded and unfiltered. He watched you now, those amber eyes lit with a dark hunger to follow the motions of your hands: one pulling dampened panties aside as the other spreads glistening lips, guiding his cock along the length of your slit before you ease yourself onto his hard heat.

Unable to stop the moan that escapes, you slide…lower and lower…until the flesh of your buttocks meets the muscular plane of his pelvis. But the sensation continues — electricity spreading towards the very pit of the stomach to curl your spine, chest opening to receive all of his love.

Breathing barely controlled, Gavin bites hard on his lip in a bid to stay quiet, unwilling to attract the attention of curious staff. “God, you feel so good. I just…just want to move.”

“No, let me…let me be the one to take care of you this time. Please.”

For the second time that night, Gavin relents, yielding to your exquisite torture even as he fought to leash the animal impulse that spurred him to rip free of the machinery and fuck you until the bed collapsed. Hands clenching tight around the bedsheet, his knuckles grow white, as if the flimsy fabric were a lifeline keeping him from being swept away each time you lifted and lowered yourself onto him.

For everything about you drove him mad, from the tight, grinding circles you drew with your hips whenever he was fully sheathed, to the clenching embrace of your arousal-slicked walls that held him like no other, as if the entirety of you were created with him in mind. Or, at least, it was a fantasy he harboured; to think that fate had a hand in ordaining you his sole queen, and him, forever your humble servant.

“Ahh, Gavin!…I…you’re so deep, I’m com—”

You don’t get to finish before your mind blanks. All you could focus on was the sudden grip of Gavin’s hands on your hips and the shift of your weight forwards when his knees draw up, giving your lover the proper leverage to pound hard and fast into you from below until your arousal pools to drench those six-pack abs.

It nearly overwhelms you; the orgasm that makes you collapse onto Gavin’s chest, the contractions that hit like tidal waves moving through your body. They spur him on, continuing to fuck you so hard the bed shook, each and every thrust hitting just the right, swollen spot to keep you elevated on that high. And when you whisper

“I love you”

before your tongue extends to suck the lobe of his ear into your mouth, the tension building in the taut muscles of that perfect body breaks.

You hear your name leave his lips in a deep moan, feel him leave a part of himself in the secret space between your legs. Taste the salt of his sweat on kisses laid upon the pulse of his neck. Waited for his racing heart to slow before telling yours it was okay to do the same.

And when his arms wrap tightly around your body, “I love you, too” returned with palpable affection, you let yourself fall into slumber…knowing that even in dreams, Gavin would meet you there.

Thank you so much for reading! Check out more of my work here! 📚

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bopbopstyles · 4 years

Photo

ELEVATED SURFACES

RATING: R/smut (sex, heavy alcohol use, smoking, lots of cursing)

WORD COUNT: 11.6k

CATEGORIES: fratboy!harry

MASTERLIST (check it out for extras) | INSPO TAG | PLAYLIST

a/n: as a recently graduated srat girl and lover of a good frat party, this one shot was intended to fill the whole in my heart which is LEGIT frat Harry. he is fratty and hot and long haired and a mess. if u like this try out TEMPTATION which is my other frat!h series and the first thing i ever wrote on this gd website (he’s not as fratty but we love him a LOT)

a/n pt.2: as a note, i want to make very clear that frats and greek organizations frequently harbor predators and abusers. i do not in any way condone that behavior or that reality, and i would like to bring attention to a petition to remove a fraterity that had done truly many horrible things--your signature would be a huge help. for survivors of assault, you are not alone, and it is not your fault.

As you rose up, your eyes locked on a figure in the doorway of the basement. His long hair was loose, curls that had been pulled out from the hair tie he always had on his wrist, a tight white shirt that you knew meant all of his tattoos were on display. Harry was watching you, you realized as you twisted your hips and bounced your arms up and down with the beat, singing the words. So you kept his gaze, and just to taunt him, when the chorus hit again, you dropped down, ass hitting your heels, eyes on his the whole time.

Harry is a very fratty frat boy and Y/N is a really good dancer

pls reblog and share with your friends 💕

“We really should not be still going to our own mixers,” Emily said to you, fluffing her hair and rotating to check her ass in her jeans. You looked up from where you were sitting on your bed, a gin and tonic in one hand to get your blood flowing before the party started. Emily sighed, and then turned from the mirror to you, grabbing the coffee cup that had never seen coffee, just alcohol. “Are people even going?”

You nodded, tossing your phone next to you and leaning against the bed frame. “Alexis is on her way over—she got held up finishing an essay. Maya said she might come, I tried to convince her by promising I’d bring my flask and you’d have your Juul.”

“I swear, she has to just give in and get one of her own.” Emily took a long sip and crossed her arms.

“She claims that will make her addicted.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “She’s already addicted—she uses half my pods and ends up hanging out with whatever guy will let her take a hit. Is it just going to be us and all the new members?”

“No, I think some juniors are going. And definitely the sophomores—they’re all on the little hunt.” You got up, going to your computer to change the song, scrolling through your comprehensive and well-curated pregame playlist. “Plus, who gives a fuck, we’ll only be there for an hour or two for the free alcohol and then we’re hitting the bars.”

“True.” A knock came from the door, and Emily hollered to come in, and Alexis appeared in the doorway, her makeup looking utterly flawless as always. You had always wanted Alexis’s wardrobe and told her constantly, to which Alexis always replied that she wished you were the same size. Unfortunately, Alexis was a solid five inches shorter than you and had a completely different bra size, making sharing quite difficult.

“Bitches, I brought tequila!” Alexis swung into the room in a cloud of perfume, and threw her arms around you and Emily’s shoulders. “Come on, we need to get tipsy before we get to this mixer. Nick already texted me making sure I was coming.”

“Grab the shot glasses,” You replied, nodding to the makeshift bar cart in the corner, which as laden with glasses of all kinds and all your alcohol. “Are you hooking up with him tonight?”

Alexis shrugged, pulling her tequila from her bag and setting it on your desk before turning and going for the shot glasses. “Probably. I don’t know, he’s been weird lately—we hooked up on Monday night, but then he got all weird and left like immediately after and hasn’t texted me since. Barely acknowledged me when we saw each other in the library.”

“Was the sex weird?” Emily asked, unscrewing the top on the tequila so she could pour.

“Yeah,” Alexis replied, holding the glasses steady while Emily poured. “Like weirdly…intense? I let him come inside me which was probably a stupid idea, but I’m on the IUD so we should be all good. And then I offered to let him stay and he just got all flustered and said he had to go.”

You took your full shot glass, and you all clinked before tossing them back, the alcohol burning on your throat. You hated tequila shots but Alexis loved them, and you did admit they did their job. “Do you think he’s caught feelings?”

Alexis’s eyes widened. She had been pining after Nick for ages, his tall basketball stature and surprisingly good fashion sense a dime a dozen. Much less, apparently the sex was insane, so what wasn’t to like? “You think? I thought it might’ve not been his vibe.”

Emily grabbed the bottle. “Another?” You all nodded, and she poured again, The Weeknd crooning in the background. “Just see what happens tonight, feel out what his vibe his.”

“Good idea.” You slammed back another shot, hissing before setting down the glass. “Okay, that’s enough tequila or you two are going to be carrying me home tonight.”

Emily and Alexis laughed, before taking seats on your bed, continuing to chatter about the night ahead. It was a Friday, your favorite night because it was usually just mixers, no general parties, which as a senior you had grown to despise. The fighting for watered down alcohol, packed bodies and horrific gender ratio was simply no longer something you had the energy to deal with. Mixers were your preferred zone, filled with your sorority sisters who you adored, the opportunity to actually hang out with the frat brothers whose presence you enjoyed, and usually pong. Sometimes they even let you DJ because you had the best party playlists. The president of Sig Ep had actually asked for the link one time and you’d heard they used it sometimes when the brothers didn’t want to man the computer anymore.

You surveyed your outfit in your narrow mirror, the black denim jeans and simple white tank that showed a bit of stomach and your tan you’d worked hard on during your winter escape to the Caribbean with your lineage. It was simple, yet it suited your needs—after three and a half years of college parties, you had discovered getting dressed up for frat parties was a useless activity, since your clothes would get drenched in jungle juice and sweat anyways. You left your best outfits for Saturday nights spent clubbing downtown.

If you were being honest, the whole reason you were going tonight was because at the last mixer you’d had with Beta, you’d turned around on the dance floor to find Harry’s eyes on you. You were already dancing with another one of the brothers and ended up making out with him in a corner until you got bored, but you hadn’t been able to get the sight of his eyes on you out of your head.

You’d known Harry since freshman year, your interactions limited mostly to mixers and the occasional run-in in the dining halls when you exchanged pleasantries, or the one time he’d volunteered for a karaoke team for your sorority philanthropy event and you’d been in charge of his team. But the two of you had rarely ever spent time together. That didn’t mean you hadn’t had a lingering crush on him since you’d first laid eyes on him, though, and over the years he’d only gotten more attracted. A body that filled out his white t-shirts and black jeans, hair long and sweeping his shoulders to where he wore it in a bun most times, a jaw that could cut glass. He was hot and he knew it, as did everyone else on campus.

As juniors you had both been on the executive boards of your respective Greek organizations and had ended up in meetings together about housing violations and social calendars, but it hadn’t ever led to much more than you both complaining about how fucking annoying FIJI and their insistent requests for a house was, considering they’d trashed their last one. But this year, you’d found his eyes on you multiple times, and you wondered if perhaps your time had arrived. You’d both always danced around each other and you were curious after all these years if he was finally interested in hooking up. Not that you really expected much more, or were looking for much else—you were a senior, after all, and you were enjoying it.

“Y/N.” Alexis’s voice ripped you from your musings over Harry, her fingers snapping from her spot on your bed. “What’s got you thinking hard over there?”

“Harry?” Emily guessed, one eyebrow raising. “Emmett said he’ll be there tonight.”

“He’s always there,” you replied, because he was. Like you, he seemed to enjoy the mixers, but usually avoided the open parties unless he was on door duty.

“You’d hook up with him, right?”

You looked at Alexis. “Obviously. He’s so fucking hot.”

She laughed, as did Emily. “Then go for it, girl. It’s not like he’ll say no.”

You shrugged. “He might. Never know.”

“I seriously doubt that. You look hot as fuck, as usual, and are the life of the party. Beta adores you. They literally asked you to move in this year when they had an open spot.”

“It was a joke,” you reminded them, because it was—you wouldn’t ever be allowed to live in the house and they knew that. It was true though, you had become a bit of a groupie over the past few years, preferring the more laid back vibe in their house. You’d become friends with all the senior guys, except the weird or obnoxious ones, and had become a regular invite to Bachelor Monday watch parties in their second floor living room. You brought snacks and your friends, they provided the booze and the cable.

“Still,” Emily said, nudging you the toe of her black booties. “Don’t sell yourself short, babes. He is missing a brain if he’s not interested in you.”

“And seriously missing out,” Alexis added. You shot her a look, but she just chuckled. “Bitch, I lived next door to you last year. You are loud.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you said, laughing, but she was right. You were. Guys had told you on countless occasions, but you really couldn’t find it in yourself to care all that much. “Come on, we should go. Maya is texting me asking when we’re leaving.”

“Do you have your cigs?” Alexis asks you, downing the rest of the drink she’d made while you had been staring into space.

It was your vice, one you had picked up during a semester abroad and only did when you were drunk. You knew you should stop, but something about it made you feel powerful, a bit badass, so you kept doing it. “Obviously. Emmett will have a fit if I don’t.” You swiped your pack from your desk drawer and your trusty pale blue lighter, and shoved them into the pocket of your jacket. With one last swig of your drink, your veins buzzing with alcohol just the right amount, the three of you were off, singing an old Hannah Montana song in the elevator down to the lobby of your dorm.

One of the pledges was working the door, but happily let you three into the frat house. The lights on the main floor were off, except for the ones in the front study that doubled as a coat room, where you tied the arms of your jackets together and set them in the corner so you didn’t lose them. Your cigs were transferred to your back pocket, and you just prayed you didn’t forget they were there and crush them again.

Josephine and another junior were the sober sisters, and offered you three hugs before checking your names off the list. You got positive points for being there, as if that was the main reason you had shown up.

“Emmett!” Emily called, and the blond-headed boy’s head flipped up from where he was standing behind the bar. A Gatorade water cooler was sitting on the high bar, stacks of red solo cups and boxes of white claws and beers sitting on top of one another.

Aka, your happy place. “He’s bartending, thank god,” you said, and grabbed Emily and Alexis, weaving through the crowd. Girls stopped you all as you moved, hugs and squeals at your appearance. You had to admit, you were popular in your sorority, but mainly because you had made it your mission to get your money worth. As a result of your exec position, you’d gotten to know the sophomore member class and you adored them all, chaotic messes who always turned up with you and made you laugh hysterically. Honestly, you were sad to graduate because it meant leaving behind so many fun friends and memories.

“We’ve been waiting for you three,” Emmett said when you arrived in front of him. He was wearing the frat’s homecoming shirt from the previous year and his eyes were dilated, obvious that he had smoked before. “What are we drinking?”

“What’s the mix?” You asked, pointing to the cooler.

He grabbed three cups, knowing you would be taking it. “Shit ton of vodka, Kool Aid, water, the usual.”

“My favorite,” you replied, blowing him a kiss. “How is it downstairs?”

He filled the cups and handed them to you all. “They just wrapped up pong so it’s still getting moving.”

Alexis took a long sip before grabbing your hand. “Sounds like we need to get people dancing.” With that she turned around, her long slick black hair moving in a circle. “Let’s dance!” She called, and the girls around you cheered, following the three of you down the slippery steps to the basement.

Downstairs, The Motto was playing and you bobbed your head along with the beat, moving your hips as you entered the large basement space. It was dark except for a glowing sign with the Beta letters in narrow neon lights, casting the room with a tint of green. Your battered frat shoes, an old pair of white Vans, stuck against the beer and jungle juice-covered floor as you made your way to the middle. A couple of other girls and brothers were scattered around the floor, and you broke from Emily and Alexis’s hands as you twirled on the floor.

You raised your cup above your head and started dancing, rapping the lyrics by heart, moving your hands and hips along with the song. Emily and Alexis sang along with you and some of the younger girls showed up, then some other seniors who shared your love for frat parties. All of a sudden your little was screaming and running towards you, Mallory’s arms wrapping around your waist.

“Oh my fuck god, MOM,” she screamed, using the nickname she’d had for you since you’d taken her as your little two years ago. You laughed and threw your arm around her shoulders, screaming the lyrics. There was a specific reason you had taken Mallory as your little, and it was because she lost her shit at parties just as much as you did. You two were a dynamic duo like no other, and if your grand little didn’t have a huge exam on Monday, she’d be here too and you would all be dancing together as usual.

You downed your jungle juice, the sugary drink combined with the loud music blasting and your friends making your adrenaline kick into high gear. And then Maya appeared, arms waving like crazy, and then she dropped it low and you remembered why you adored her, even if she always stole Emily’s Juul. She had a beer in one hand and a white claw in the other, ready for the night ahead.

Then Emmett appeared, trailed by some of the other brothers in tank tops and t-shirts, one carrying a six pack on his shoulder and handing out warm beers to the brothers he passed. Emmett beelined for Emily, his arm thrown around her shoulder, their completely platonic friendship on show for everyone. The song ended and you took a breath, crushing your cup and tossing it into the corner so you could have your hands free. Emily pulled her Juul free and took a hit, passing it to Maya next without a question between them.

The opening notes of Come Get Her started and you immediately grabbed Alexis and Emily, beelining for the bar that the speakers rested on, something you weren’t even sure how it got there, but it was your favorite elevated surface of all time. Wide enough to dance, tall enough to be high but not too high where you couldn’t mostly stand. You clamored up, coming to nearly full height and turning to your friends.

“Somebody come get her, she’s dancing like a stripper!” You screamed, your friends coming in a circle in front of the three of you, some other girls getting up on the bar. When the line came through again, you decided fuck it, and you dropped your ass low, bending your knees and tipping your head back.

When you danced, you didn’t give a single fuck about impressing guys or any of that. You just simply loved to dance with your friends, move your hips, and didn’t care what you looked like. Mallory screamed when you got low, your name falling from her lips in a squeal of joy.

That had him moving. He joined a circle where Emmett and some other senior guys were dancing with some other girls, beers in hand as they shifted back and forth. But you knew what would have them all actually dancing and screaming and jumping along with you. You needed to see Harry like that—loose and free. So you turned around and grabbed the attention of the sophomore on aux, his name something along the lines of Justin, and screamed your song choice to him. He gave you a thumbs up, and then you turned back around. Your hair was sticking to the back of your neck, and you rolled it into a loose, high bun, pulling the elastic on your wrist around it as you swayed to the song.

You could hear the song ending, and with your eyes on Harry, you decided you would get down. He was next to a pledge with a six pack, and you wanted a beer. You were mixing alcohols like nobody’s business tonight, but you’d done worse. You squatted down and kicked your feet out, Mallory’s hand coming out to help you down. “You good?” She asked, leaning in to you.

“Yeah, just hot,” you replied. “Going to get a beer.” She nodded and let you go. There wasn’t a need to watch your friends as much in a normal party, since you knew all the girls here. Maya pulled you in for a hug as you moved, and then the current president called out your name from where she stood with her boyfriend, a white claw in her hand.

Squeezing next to Emmett, you nudged the waist of the pledge next to you. “Can I get one?” You asked, pointing to the beers.

“Yeah,” he replied, pulling one from the case and handing it to you. It was a Natty Light, but you really could’ve given fewer fucks—they were a frat after all, they didn’t buy the good stuff.

You popped the tab and took a long swig, the liquid quelling your rough throat from singing. And then, the song changed, and you smiled, eyes meeting Harry’s. You decided you were going to draw him out. “I got hoes, callin’!” You screamed, the song starting the speakers, and the boys all joined in. Fuck it, you thought, and chugged the rest of your beer so that you could jump, your arms outstretched and pumping up and down. Your bun was bouncing on your head and you were grinning, the music flowing through you.

Harry was watching you, his head tapping, hair swishing back and forth. You needed more. So you moved into the center of the circle, knowing the guys would hype you up, and reached for him. “Why aren’t you dancing?” You asked him playfully, and his eyebrow shot up.

“Fuck! Shit! Bitch!” The best lines of the song ran through the speaker and you just grabbed his hand, which was warm, and pulled on him. Suddenly his body was in front of you, close, and you tried to process what your original plan was. But then, Harry started moving, back and forth, head bopping, rapping the lyrics in time, and you knew you had gotten him. “I be ballin’, like a motherfuckin’ pro,” you sang, starting up to jump, and to your surprise, Harry joined you, a carefree expression finally crossing his face. He was screaming the lyrics then, hair bouncing as he moved. He rotated, grabbing the shoulders of another one of the boys, who joined in with him, them screaming the lyrics at each other.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the change in his demeanor so sudden. When the song changed, T-Shirt by Migos coming on, he turned back to you. All of a sudden, his lips were next to your ear and you choked on air. “Fuckin’ love that song,” he said, accent smooth in your ear.

“You and every other frat boy,” you replied, stepping backwards. You had ended up at the side of the circle closer to the wall, and so you moved towards it, freeing yourself from the heavy circle of boys.

The song was slower, not a jumping and dancing song, but one that suggested the slow grinding of hips and closeness of bodies. Which fuck it, you wanted. Desperately. He was looking at you with an intense stare, smile sloppy from alcohol, Harry sweaty on his forehead, arms straining under the fabric of his shirt. He was following you, taking a step away from his friends and following your body as if magnetic. So you just went for it, putting your weight lower, and rolled your hips back and forth to the music.

Mama told me/not to sell work/Seventeen five/same color T-shirt

Your eyes met his, and the shared intensity of his gaze stirred something inside of you. Desire. A need to know what his skin felt like, a desire that had been lingering since you first saw him. Your hands moved on their own, draping over his shoulders, and his hands found the curve of your waist, and suddenly you knew what his skin felt like on yours. They found the bare skin between the hem of your shirt and the top of your jeans, burning your already warm skin.

Justin-something on aux changed the song, deciding that was enough, and then No Role Modelz was on, and you moved, swaying back and forth, your chests coming closer and closer. His face was inches from yours and you wondered what his lips would taste like. The slow rap and smooth feel of the beat had your eyes fluttering shut, mind twirling from the alcohol and the lowlights, the heat of the packed basement. If you didn’t have Harry under your hands, you might have left for a smoke break, an excuse for air. But you weren’t letting go of him anytime soon. So you turned around and when your ass touched his dick you couldn’t help but smile—he was already hard. You felt his arm move and watched him sip his beer, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he drank. You rolled your hips against him and then reached up, grabbing the can and bringing it to your own lips, taking a sip and watching him watch you. The two of you were taunting each other, acting on a feeling that had always been an undercurrent in every one of your interactions, a slight sexual tension that if you pulled on would become taught.

Which as you pressed against him, you fucking yanked on. His free hand clasped around your hip, holding you close and swaying in time with you. You could feel the sweat that had soaked through his t-shirt a bit, but you didn’t care—you were sweaty yourself, so was everyone in the room. It was part of the appeal, the fact that everyone was a mess and no one cared. He was rock hard between the denim of both of your jeans, and you could feel the power racing through you, the fact that you had him like this going straight to your head.

When Mr. Brightside came on, you decided that was your smoke break time. You couldn’t stand the song after so many years, and the feeling of bodies pressing together as they jumped was too much for you. “I’m going to get some air,” you said, turning around so you could face Harry.

He was so close to you, just inches away, when his tongue licked over his lip. “Can I come with?”

“Sure.” You grabbed his hand as you moved through the crowd, pushing between frat brothers and your sorority sisters who were all dancing together to the song. When you made it through the exit you sighed, the stale air of the stairwell even feeling better than that room.

“Fuck it was hot in there,” Harry said, your hand dropping from his. He followed you up the stairs and you nodded. You pushed open the door and a Doja Cat song was playing, some people upstairs scattered around, drinking and talking, some sitting on couches together. You waved to Maya, who seemed to have also needed a break, and nodded to the door as if to tell her you were getting some air.

“I’m going to smoke if that’s okay,” you told him as you made your way to the door, pulling your cigs and lighter from your back pocket.

He nodded. “Can I bum one?”

You opened the heavy oak door and said hello to the handful of guys sitting on the steps, who were manning the door and making sure no one random got in. “Sure,” you responded to Harry finally, sitting down on the concrete half wall that lined the landing. You could hear the slight thump of the music, but for the most part it was quiet, the the frat house a couple yards away not throwing anything tonight.

Harry leaned against the wall close to you, taking your offered cigarette. You flicked the lighter and raised it to your cigarette, taking a drag when it lit. Then you handed it to Harry, who accepted it gladly, doing the same. The smoke filled your lungs and your drunken mind considered that you should quit, but at the same time, you liked having something to do when you got air, an excuse to be on the steps. One of the other guys asked for one, and you handed one over, making a new friend.

And then you looked back to Harry. “So,” you said, tapping the ash on your cig. “How have you been?”

You hadn’t seen him since your last mixer with Beta, but you two hadn’t talked in ages. “Good,” he replied. “Busy with classes and stuff.”

“What are you studying again?”

“Political science,” he answered, and your eyebrows shot up. You had expected business or economics, like most of the Beta brothers.

“Why poli sci?”

He shrugged, tapping the ash before taking another drag. “Dunno, really. Took a class freshman year and liked it enough.”

“You don’t want to work in politics or something?”

“I don’t really know what I want to do, honestly.”

“You make it sound like that’s unusual,” you tell him. “Most people don’t.”

He chuckles, a low sound from the back of his throat, and you like the sound of it. “I’ll tell my dad that next time we talk.” You could tell there was a story there, but didn’t push. It wasn’t that kind of moment. “What about you?”

“Psych and pre-law,” you reply, the answer rolling off your tongue with ease.

“Oh? What kind of law?”

You took another drag before answering. “Criminal defense, but I want to work with people on death row.”

His eyes widen, just as you expected. It’s the usual response from people. “Fuck, that’s awesome. What made you interested in it?”

“I just got really into true crime when I was in middle school and ended up doing research on the criminal justice system and what a fucking disaster it is. Death sentences and death row especially. So I want to overturn false convictions.”

He puffed a cloud of smoke, and you watched his lips form a circle, a dark pink color that drew you in. “And you said most people don’t know what they want to do.”

A breeze made the hair on your arm hair stand up, and you rubbed the skin to warm up. It was cold tonight. “I’m unusual,” you told him. “Most of my friends have no idea what they’re doing after graduation.”

You had reached the end of your cigarette, so you dropped it to the ground and stamped it out, the combination of the nicotine and alcohol making your head deliciously hazy. “I’m going back in.”

Harry dropped his cigarette too, putting out the bud. “Lead the way.” He swiped his ID card on the door to let you both in, and you held the door for him, the sound of Post Malone sweeping through the house. “Want another drink?”

You mentally considered how drunk you were, came to the conclusion that you could take some more, and nodded. “White claw, please.” If you laid off the jungle juice you would last a bit longer, and you weren’t particularly wanting to get wasted tonight—you wanted to see where this went.

Harry nodded and walked towards the bar, while you turned to the group of girls closest to you, who were drinking juice and chattering amongst themselves. They immediately started asking you about Harry, about what was happening, and you shrugged because you truly didn’t know. “He’s hot,” one of them, a sophomore named Cat said. “You going to go for it?”

“If the opportunity presents itself,” you replied. You weren’t going to push with Harry, the last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself in front of him. You’d follow his lead, see what he was interested in, matching his flirting and see where it went. Not to say you weren’t forward, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable either. “What about you guys?”

Cat launched into an in-depth analysis of the weird flirtation she’d been having with a junior guy in Beta, how they’d hooked up once but not again, but he kept looking at her. You encouraged her to go for it if she wanted, and she grinned, perhaps just needing an extra push. All of a sudden, you felt a hand on your back, and Harry was next to you, a Black Cherry white claw in one hand, a Heineken in the other.

“If I’d know there were Heinekens I would’ve had that,” you told him, accepting your white claw.

His hair fell behind his shoulders when he tipped the beer back. “Most girls don’t like beer.”

“Well you’ve met one now.” You liked messing with him, dropping flirtations into the conversation and pushing buttons. It made him smirk at you and you loved it, the twinkle in his eyes and the pinkness of his lips.

“H.” A guy appeared behind Harry. “We’re out of vodka.”

“How are we out?” He asked, taking another sip of his beer.

The guy, a pledge from the looks of him, grimaced. “Someone took one of the bottles.”

“Fuck,” Harry said with a sigh. “Have one of the other pledges go get more and keep the receipt. Get more claws while you’re out, we’re running low.” With that, he turned back to you, exhaling sharply. The boy disappeared, sensing that was his cue.

Right as you were about to speak, you heard the opening notes of I Love It from downstairs, and you turned to the girls around you. “Downstairs,” you told them, and they all tossed back the rest of their drinks before tossing them into the trash can a few paces away. You opened the door to the basement and then looked back to Harry. “Coming?”

That made him move, following you down into the dark stairwell that smelled of stale beer and sweat. He stayed close to you, and when your foot slipped on a stair he reached out to steady you, a hand to your side that made your body warm with more than just the temperature of the room. The girls in front of you streamed into the room, screaming the lyrics to the song.

“You’re such a fucking hoe/I love it!” You joined in, laughing at the lyrics in spite of yourself, but the truth is you fucking loved the song. It was absurd and was filthy, but you liked screaming the lyrics in a room with a bunch of your friends.

You twirled around and walked into the room backward, moving your body with the beat, taunting Harry to follow you. Which he did, as if connected to you by a magnet. You could see his lips moving, the lyrics falling from his lips to match you. You stopped moving in the middle of the room and Harry’s hands found your hips. Turning in his hands, a coy smile on your face, you knew what this song was going to involve. Hips moved on their own accord, grinding hard against him. You could feel his breath on your neck, the lyrics I’m a sick fuck/I like a quick fuck/I like my dick sucked/I’ll buy you a sick truck in your ear. Hearing the words on his lips for some reason had your blood pumping, and you wanted to hear them again on a loop.

His dick was hard against your ass and your hands stretched behind you, finding his hips to hold him close. His head fell to your neck, nosing at your skin, his fingers on the bare skin at your waist clenching. Your hips moved in time with each other, his body dropping to be at the height as yours, chasing the desire that was running between you. Your head tipped back against his chest and eyes fluttered shut, letting the alcohol in your veins and the music pounding in your ears take over. All you could feel was him, the cut of his body and the strength of his arms next to you, his hips insistently rubbing against yours and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to actually grind on him.

The song changed, Work Out by J. Cole sounding through the speakers and you pulled away from him and turned to face him. You were going to put on a bit of a show, you decided, because why the fuck not. It was clear at this point that he wanted you as much as you wanted him, so why pretend like anything else was happening?

So when the lyrics Let me see you get/High then go low/Now, girl won't you drop that thing down to the floor? fell through the speakers you dropped to the ground, Harry’s eyes following you came back up slowly, your body just inches from his. His hands fell on your body, grabbing at your waist to keep you close, pressing his hips forward to grind right over the front of your jeans and you panted from both the heat in the room and the pleasure ripping through your body. When the chorus came again, you dropped down, and this time you ran your hands down his legs lightly as you moved, fingers dancing down and then back up the seams of his jeans.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he said and you could barely hear him over the music.

His eyes met yours, searing into yours, a question passing between you. And then you were moving towards each other, an answer to the question in the way your lips met, slotted together and pulled at one another. Your hands were pulling at his shirt, grabbing at the material and the skin underneath, one of his hand holding your head close to his, the other at your waist. It was fast and messy, your lip pulling on his bottom one, before chasing him, his tongue brushing at the seam of your lips before dipping inside.

Kissing Harry was hot. It was like setting your whole body on fire with desire and you just wanted to know what the rest of him felt like because his lips were sending you to another planet. He tugged on your bottom lip with his teeth and a moan escaped you, desperation clear in your throat. You could feel bodies press around you, the notes of Fire by Louis the Child ringing through the room. When the beat dropped, you knew people were jumping, the guys doing that thing where they slammed into each other like some kind of mosh. But Harry just stayed there, pulling his lips into yours, drawing wet pants from your body. He was holding tight to you as if you were going to slip away, even though that was the last place you wanted to go.

But you decided you wanted to tease him a bit more. Not let him get away, but just…push him a bit. So you drew away, enough to where you could dance, your sorority sisters at your back—you had seen Alexis move behind you. You grinding on her, your asses touching, and you could hear her laughter, before moving against you. It was something you two always did, dancing partners since the moment you met.

“If I go down in flames/The smoke going to spell my name,” you sang.

Harry watched you, his eyes burning a line down your body, the ministrations of your hips against Alexis’s. And then he was moving towards you, his front pressed yours and his lips were at your ear. “Drink?”

You nodded, and let him pull you through the crowd and towards the stairs. People were moving down them and you pressed yourself to the wall to let them pass, before following Harry up the stairs to the main floor. “Is there anything better than that shit?” You asked him when you stood next to him, his arm loosely around your waist, holding you to him.

His gaze drifted to the bar and then back to you. “I’ve got some stuff in my room.”

You knew he lived in the house, the result of being on exec last year and having first dibs after the current exec board was placed, the hierarchy the same as in your own sorority house. “Do you have mixers?” As much as you drank, you still hated drinking most straight alcohol, especially if you were going to be sipping on it. When he nodded, you replied, “Let’s go.”

You caught the eye of Emily who was standing on the other side of the room, watching you, and you pointed upstairs to tell her where you were going. After she gave you a thumbs up, letting you know she’d check in before leaving, a silent conversation well rehearsed over the years, you followed Harry up the stairs. Other guys and girls streamed down them, coming from rooms where they were smoking or using the bathroom or drinking just like you.

“What floor are you on?” You asked when you passed the first floor, twisting to go up the second flight.

“Third,” he replied, not pausing no the stairs. “It’s quieter.”

That made sense, as you could imagine if he didn’t feel like partying one night it would be kind of hard to avoid. You followed him up, the sound of the music fading as you made your way higher into the frat house. You passed other girls on the way you exchanged hugs and promises to catch up after chapter on Monday night. Finally, you made it to the third floor, and Harry pushed open the door to a room with his name on it.

You followed him in and the first thing you noticed was how much of a boy’s room it was. Messy comforter, clothes on the floor, alcohol bottles lining the window sill, the frat’s flag above his bed. Some posters and photos littered the opposite wall, a single framed photo of what looked like his family on his dresser, along with some random items like cologne and a brush and hair ties. A pair of athletic shoes and boots were shoved into one corner, and a tub of protein powder sat on top of his mini-fridge, along with a stack of solo cups. On his desk was a bong and a couple of lighters, his computer sitting next to it on a charger. The dorm room was narrow, most of it taken up with a double bed that you were a bit confused by, since most rooms just had a single.

“Sorry, it’s kind of a mess,” he said, shutting the door behind you. If you focused on it, you could hear nerves in his voice, a low laugh in the back of his throat as he surveyed his room. “Didn’t expect to have people up here.”

“It’s fine,” you told him, moving into the middle of the room to get out of the doorway, taking in the space.

“Uh, I’ve got Tito’s, Jack, some gin one of the guys got me.”

It drew you back to the whole reason you were in his room. He was standing next to his mini-fridge, a solo cup in his hand as he looked at you. “What mixers do you have?”

“Coke, juice, and tonic,” he replied. “Sorry, it’s not much.”

You shook your head. “Tito’s and tonic,” you told him. Usually you would’ve been all over the Jack and coke option, but considering how much you’d already drank the last thing you needed was to mix clear and dark liquors.

You watched him pour, leaning against his desk as you waited. He handed you the cup, asking you to try it and tell him if it was too strong. You took a sip and it was strong, but not too much. Then, he made a whiskey and coke you were jealous of, and the two of you stood in his room, not quite sure what to do. You didn’t want to go back down the party, the feeling of fresh air—even though it smelled vaguely like college boy, a mixture of sweat and cologne that you keenly recognized—feeling good on your skin.

“Want to listen to some music?” He asked, moving towards you. There was a bluetooth speaker on his desk, you realized, and shifted away so he could get at his computer.

You decided to sit on the bed, thighs resting on the soft comforter. “Sure.” You pulled your cigarettes and lighter from your back pocket, before looking back at him.

He fiddled with the speaker, the sound of it connecting ricocheting in the small room, before clicking keys to wake up his computer. “Any preferences?”

“I’m good with whatever,” you replied. “I like pretty much everything.” It was true, you had everything from country to Top 40s and rap on your Spotify, a variety of playlists to fit the mood.

He pulled on his bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger as he perused his Spotify and you tried not to focus on the sight. Low music began to sound in the room and you immediately recognized the beginning notes of Let Her Go by 6LACK, a smile drifting onto your face. He must have noticed, because he turned around, his cup in his hand. “You like 6LACK?”

“More like obsessed,” you replied and he chuckled.

He sat on the edge of the desk, his knees falling open, his back slumped a bit. “I don’t know a single girl who even knows who he is.”

You took a sip of your drink before replying, resting your body back on one hand. “They must not have good music taste, then.”

Harry gave you a small smile, an edge of playfulness to it. “Where’s home for you?”

“Denver,” you responded. “You?”

“Holmes Chapel.”

“Where’s that?”

He brushed a hand through his hair, the long locks slipping between his fingers and you couldn’t help but wish you were the one doing it. “South of Manchester. It’s a small town, lots of fields and shit like that.”

You’d never been to England so you had no idea of where Manchester was, but you didn’t ask. “Do you like it?”

He shrugged. “It’s fine. I don’t want to like, move back or anything. But it’s a good place to go home to.”

Denver felt the same way to you—it was home, but it wasn’t a place you saw a future in. You’d go where law school took you, and then the work, wherever you could make the biggest impact. “Where do you want to go?”

The solo cup hung in his hands, and he twirled it a bit, the rim of the cup pressed between his fingers. “LA, maybe. New York. Not sure, really. London, most likely, unless I can get a job and someone to sponsor my Visa so I can stay.”

“Do you like the states?” You knew you were asking a lot of questions, but you’d never had a conversation like this with him and you were curious. Curious about him, about who he was, underneath all the frat shit that he loved so much.

“It’s different than home,” he replied, and you understood what he meant. “I don’t think I’ll want to be here forever, but it’s good for right now. Got friends here now.”

You took another sip of your drink, and then pushed yourself up, the need to pee suddenly overtaking your body. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Down the hall. Make sure you slam on the door before locking it—it got fucked up during homecoming and hasn’t been the same ever since.”

You nodded and took your cup with you, four years of college ingraining some lessons into your bones. Down the hall, you found a blond wood door and a doorknob that was barely attached to the door. You pushed it open and shut it quickly, shoving against it with your shoulder so that you could flip the lock. Inside, you wondered for the millionth time why boys were in capable from having a properly stocked bathroom. Head & Shoulders shampoo littered the floor of the shower, a flimsy shower curtain that had come free from a couple of the rings. You squatted to pee, grabbing the toilet paper roll that sat on top of the toilet, no one even bothering to properly put it away.

As you peed, you scrolled through your phone. Mallory had texted saying she was going bar hopping with some of her friends and you told her to text you if she needed anything and a heart, before checking her on Find My Friends to see she was, in fact at a bar. Then you texted your group chat with Emily and Alexis and Maya, who had asked how you were doing. You told them you were with Harry and most likely going to be here for a while, which got excited responses and Alexis sent the eggplant emoji, which made you snort. They told you to text you if you ended up staying the night so they could keep track of where you were, which you agree to do.

When you went to wash your hands, you rolled your eyes because of course they couldn’t even buy hand soap. You went to the shower and found a bottle of body wash, and squirted some into your hands before going back to the sink, rinsing them off. Then you looked at your face in the mirror, eyeliner and mascara still in tact, but your hair was a disaster. You pulled the bun free and let your hair tumble down your back, running through it with your fingers to calm the strands that were askew.

Standing the mirror, you had the opportunity to consider your choices. Did you want to hook up with Harry? Yes. That was a clear answer, despite your alcohol-hazed mind. Did he want to? Most likely—every indication had pointed towards yes. So your mind was made up as you pulled the door open and made your way back to his room, your phone tucked into your jeans and solo cup in your hand.

“You guys really need soap.”

He was still sitting on the edge of his desk, scrolling through his phone and sipping on his drink when you came into the room. At the sight of you, he put his phone down. “I know—it’s fucking disgusting. I have my own, though. Sorry for not sharing.”

You set your cup on his dresser, deciding you were done, and moved towards him. “It’s fine. I made do.” His eyes trailed down your front, the sexual tension thick in the room. When he pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and chewed on it, you decided fuck it you were done waiting.

You crossed the space between the two of you in second, slotting yourself between his knees. His hands found your waist immediately, his solo cup moving to rest on the table once your body was pressed to his. Without pausing, you pressed your lips to his, reconnecting them in a fire—you needed him, you wanted him, you craved his hands on your skin. Now that you were alone, it was like you couldn’t hold yourself together and neither could he. His hands moved up and down your back, tugging you into his chest as your hands curled in his long hair. Lips fought for dominance, teeth tugging and tongues pressing for more. When he licked into your mouth a wet moan left your lips and you pressed into the crotch of his pants without even meaning to.

6LACK was still flowing through the speaker, and the smooth RnB just adding to the desire rolling through your body. When his lips dropped to your neck, sucking and biting on your skin, a desperate, filthy noise fell from your mouth and you couldn’t help but smile when Harry grunted into you. “I—fuck,” he mumbled, squeezing at your hips.

Suddenly your clothes were too warm, burning against your skin. You leaned back and pulled at the hem of your tank top, pulling it up over your head and letting it fall to the floor. Harry’s eyes went wide, blown out irises from alcohol and desire criss-crossing over your body. “You can touch me,” you said, confidence coursing through your veins and just desperate for him to do something.

He didn’t hesitate, pulling you back into him and attaching his mouth to the swell of your breast, right above the lace of your bra. Hot breath on your skin had you keening into him, back arching up into his mouth, your fingers tugging into his hair. You loved his hair, having something to hold onto and anchor yourself, and from the pleased hums he liked it too. His hands fumbled with your bra clasp, and when he got it free and pulled the material away, he pulled your nipple into his mouth and you audibly sighed. When he sucked on it, then laved over it with his tongue you couldn’t help but buck into him. You were putty in his arms and he had barely done anything.

Your hands pulled at his shirt, the desire to see his skin overwhelming you. He didn’t make you wait, helping you tug it over his head, and let it drop to the floor. Black ink scattered across his skin, words and images that made a million questions swirl in your mind. The G on his shoulder, the ship on his bicep, the name Jackson scrawled above a rose, the swallows across his collarbones and a butterfly on his stomach. He sat there, chest heaving as he caught his breath and your fingers brushed his skin, curiosity getting the better of you.

“Y/N,” he rasped, “bed?”

“Yes.” The word fell from your lips with ease, and he was backing you into it immediately, hands in your hair and lips on yours. Your bare chests touching sent you into overdrive, the brush of your nipples on his warm skin, a sheen of sweat covering both of you from dancing all night.

The comforter was plush underneath your back as you scrambled up the length of his bed, his body following yours immediately. Your legs fell apart so he could fit between you, and when he did, his dick rested right against your clothed clit and it made you gasp. “Feel good?” He mumbled, the words a haze in your ears as he plucked your lips between his.

All you could do was buck up, your knees finding either side of him. You wanted to be on top, to be in control. You wanted to grind on him properly, after waiting for so long. With a hand at his chest, you pushed slightly, enough for him to move back. He must have understood what you wanted because he flopped onto the bed next to you, one hand on either of your thighs and you mounted him, your ass sitting on the top of his thighs.

When you moved your center over his dick, both of you groaned, deep and drawn out, your head thrown back in pleasure. It was bliss, after so much waiting, to finally be able to do this, his hands crawling from your thighs to your hips to hold you in place, exactly where he wanted you. You put your hands on his chest to hold yourself up, and let your hips find a sinful rhythm, one that was making pleasure curl in your stomach. Pants left your mouth, matched by Harry, who was watching you as if you were a fucking art exhibit, eyes trying to take in every inch of you. Fingernails curled into his skin, red marks that you expected to be there tomorrow, when he nudged at your clit, and you rubbed that spot a few more times, his name falling from your lips in a beg. “Harry.”

That had him moving, pulling your lips down to his so he could kiss you again, his fingers cradling the back of your head. It was just rough enough where you were scrambling to catch up and it felt good, that this was consuming every part of your brain. You rolled your hips again, your hands pressing into the pillow under his head. Then, you felt his thighs agains your ass, and he was pushing up into you, making him snugly flush against you, the only thing between you two being your clothes.

Which you wanted off, and wanted off now. You moved back, crawling between his legs, and his eyes followed you, panting as he watched you pop the button on his pants. He lifted his hips to help you and you tugged the tight skinny jeans that showed every inch of his thickness underneath them down his legs. Then, you pulled on his briefs, and he was bare in front of you, exactly as you wanted him. Your jeans were constricting your movement so you turned tot he side, pulling the denim off of your body so you were left in your underwear.

Then you were on him again, but this time, it was your hand on his dick, fingers running up the length of him.

“Fuck,” he said, voice husky in your ears. He was gorgeous underneath you, desperation making his eyebrows crease, his long hair a mess on the pillow. Why had you waited so long to act on this desire? You suddenly couldn’t remember.

He watched you spit onto his most sensitive part, and then slide your hand over him, spreading the moisture. He hissed at the feeling and you knew you wouldn’t be able to last long here—he was already hard, his tip red and throbbing. The fact that you had him this turned on and you’d barely done anything made your ego soar, to be honest. You pumped him three times before licking up the underside of him, his hands curling in the comforter, a stream of curses falling from his lips.

When you took him into your mouth, a low, rough grunt filled the room and you smiled. You hollowed your cheeks and immediately took him all the way into your mouth, resisting the urge to gag when he hit the back of your throat. “Shit,” he rasped. “You—shit.”

You’d done what you were about to give him just a handful of times before, only with people who you knew you would feel pleasure from too when they did it, and trusted. And Harry fit both of those categories, because he could fucking smile and you’d want to fuck him. So you grabbed his hand and placed it on the back of your head, before taking him all the way to the back of your throat. Your mouth was full of him and it felt so good.

“Want me to fuck your mouth?” His eyes were glimmering in the light, completely focused on you. You were happy you had left the lights on, because it meant you could every inch of him, every reaction you drew from him.

In response, you licked at his tip, hoping he knew that meant yes.

He seemed to, because he curled his fingers into your hair and pushed his hips up, his tip hitting your throat immediately. You groaned around his dick and he cursed at the vibrations. Then, he kept his hips on the bed and instead pulled you up and down him, fucking your mouth just as you had wanted. You couldn’t do much from this position, so you focused on inhaling through your nose and running your hands over his skin, scratching at the butterfly on his torso. Leaving reminders of this night, of you, on his body.

“Shit,” he mumbled, pulling you off. “I—I have to stop. But, shit, you feel so good, babe.”

The pet name made you smile, sitting back on your heels to wipe at your mouth, the taste of his salty precum still on your tongue. “Do you have a condom?” You asked, because all that you had done had left you more than ready—you needed him inside of you.

Harry’s eyes went wide and he scrambled up. “Fuck,” he exhaled, grabbing at his desk drawer and pulling it open. Watching him look through his drawers completely naked was, you had to admit, a bit amusing, but you kept your thoughts to yourself. He wrenched another drawer open, tossing the contents about as he looked. Then he sighed, and looked back at you. “I’m out.”

“Go find one,” you told him, leaning back against the wall, letting your knees drop open to show your underwear. You could feel the wet spot on them and you knew he saw it too. “I’ll wait here.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll—yeah I’ll find one.” He pulled on his jeans, not even bothering with his briefs, eyes flickering to you every once and a while. “Shit, I’ll—I’ll be back.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at how flustered he was, pushing open his door and letting it slam shut behind him. Through the door you could hear him knocking on the door next to his, some muffled words, and then him knocking again. He was going fucking door to door looking for a condom, you realized with amusement. Then, the patter of feet on the stairs, and you knew he was going downstairs, that no one else was in their rooms.

While you waited, you grabbed your phone and scrolled through it. Caught up on texts, liked shit on Instagram, checked Snapchat even though you barely used the app. Most people were at bars, as far as you could tell, but it looked like they’d set back up pong downstairs according to Emily’s story.

All of a sudden, feet pounded on the stairs and you knew it was Harry. You pushed your phone back onto the desk, and when the door opened, he was standing there holding probably ten condoms. “How many did you get?”

He looked down at the wad in his hand and visibly blushed. “I—I thought I’d re-stock.”

You let it slide, even though you knew exactly why he got so many. He was hoping you’d have a couple rounds, and you were not opposed to the idea. “Come here,” you said, and let your legs fall back open.

He was on you in second, his pants kicked down his legs as he moved and you were surprised he didn’t trip. Hands found your skin and he pushed you up the bed, this time he was the one hovering over you, lips drawing eager mewls from you. You pressed your hips into his unclothed erection and he cursed, a grimace crossing his face that you knew was from him restraining himself. “Can I take these off?” He asked, fingers pulling at your underwear.

“Please,” you replied and that made him smile at you. He peeled them down your legs, tossing them to the ground, a forgotten memory. Then he brushed a finger over your slit and you gasped, cool touch sending waves of pleasure through you. “Need you.” The two words made his head snap up from where he was looking at your pussy, eyes connecting with yours.

“I was going to go down on you,” he said, and although the thought was tantalizing, you needed him inside of you.

You shook your head. “Later.”

Harry wasn’t complaining. He grabbed one of the condoms from his desk and ripped it open, rolling it down his dick with a concentrated gaze. Then, he crawled up your body, reconnecting your lips, and you both sighed at the feeling of his dick rolling against your center. “Okay?” He asked, pulling away just a hair to check in.

“Please,” you begged, and that had him moving immediately.

He tugged one of your legs around his waist, and then he gripped his dick, brushing his tip to your slit once, twice, three times. On the third time, though, he pressed in, and your wetness accepted him immediately, allowing him to push in about halfway before he stopped.

It burned a bit—mainly just from his size, which was bigger than most other guys you’d been with. You hands scrambled across his chest, grabbing at his skin, struggling to get your breathing under control. “You’re big,” you said, unable to stop the words that fell from your lips.

A cocky smile drifted over his face and you mentally kicked yourself for adding to his ego. “Can I move?” He asked though and you nodded. His head bobbed down, and you realized he was watching where you two were connected as he pulled back and then pushed in all the way. A choked moan left your mouth and a similar one sounded from Harry’s, although his had a string of curses attached. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he rasped, hands adjusting so they were next to your head, his face above yours. “Fuck.”

You were about to tell him to move when he did it on his own accord, pulling out and back into you, the impact making your body shift on the comforter. There was a very real possibility of you having sore legs tomorrow, but you really didn’t give a fuck because he felt so good. “Holy shit,” you babbled, those words the only ones you could find as he thrusted in and out of you, finding a rhythm that made you both pant with pleasure.

Sounds drifted out of you without you even realizing, something that always happened when you had drunk sex. You couldn’t control yourself as much, unable to process how loud you were being, what you were saying. Looking back you couldn’t even remember exactly what you had said, but you knew it was a mess of curses and his name and God and just pants and mewls that were feeding Harry like a fucking three course meal.

He loved your sounds, used them to figure out what you liked, where to move and shift. You could tell because when you’d let out a sharp gasp he’d say, “Yeah, there? That’s the spot?” and drive in and out of you, hitting your g-spot perfectly with every move of his hips. Your hands were clutching at his hair as he thrusted into you, your ankles hooked around his lower back, and your body was desperate for release.

But you could also tell he was not going to last. His eyes were heavy, eyelids drawing shut with pleasure, fingers curling in the pillow next to you. Shoulders tensing and abdomen tight as he swiveled his hips, a broken moan falling between you. “Close,” he finally said, and dropped down to his elbows, so his face hovered above yours, only a hair away. “You feel so good, shit, oh my god—how do you feel so good?” His words were broken and that made them even better, that he had no control over what he was saying.

“Want you to come,” you babbled, “want to feel it, come on Harry, come for me, please, I need it.”

“Holy fuck—“ that had him snapping into you, hips slapping against yours, the sound of skin on skin overpowering the music that still played in the background. You gripped his shoulders when his head hung in the crook of your shoulder, and you knew he was about to come.

So you said one more thing. “I need you to come, Harry, please.” The words came out as a beg, exactly as you intended. His hips were stuttering immediately, curses falling between you like a broken record, repeating over and over again as he shot into the condom. He smattered kisses on your shoulder as he collapsed into you, sweat sticking to your skin.

He laid there for a second, panting, and you didn’t mind, even though you desperately needed to come. Perhaps it was how you clamped down on him, or you shifted your hips to feel slightly more of him, but Harry seemed to figure out what you needed. He lifted his head, took one look at you, and then pulled out, ripping off the condom and tossing it into his trash before crawling down your legs.

When his tongue licked your slit, you mewled his name, your hands moving into his hair immediately. You tugged and pulled on it as he licked over you, drawing circles that pulled desire from your flesh. And then he went inside, darting his deftly skilled tongue into you and practically thrusting it into you. His thumb brushed across your nub and you let our a shuddering moan, bucking up into his face. You were close—insanely close—the combination of his tongue inside of you and the thumb on your nub drawing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Harry,” you rasped, voice broken from panting. “I’m close.”

He seemed double his effort, tongue moving in and out of you at double time, his thumb brushing a brutal pace over you. You were twisting in his arms, hips bucking, curses leaving your lips. And when he pulled his thumb away and sucked on your clit, that’s when you came, in a mess of his name and broken gasps, choking on air. Your fingers curled tightly in his hair, anchoring his face to your center as you came, bucking up into him. He didn’t mind though, he just held your hips and took it, licking at you to draw out all of your aftershocks. Your eyes squeezed shut and your mind was a mess, swirling without the ability to grasp onto a single thread of thought, just a mess under his lips.

When you finally regained the ability to breathe, you pulled your hands from his hair and he sat up. You watched in awe as he licked his lips, gathering your juice, and swallowed them, a smile on his face. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re really good at that?”

He gave you a cocky expression and then flopped down next to you. “They have, in fact.”

“Good. I’d be concerned about the other girls if they hadn’t.”

He laughed, and then pulled you into his body. You were surprised at his desire to cuddle, but you weren’t mad. “You can stay if you want. There’s people downstairs still and it’s cold out.”

You propped your head up on his shoulder. “There’s also all those condoms.”

“That’s true. Wouldn’t want them to go to waste.”

You trailed your fingers up his torso. “Might have to just stay the whole weekend if we’re trying to use them all.”

His eyebrows quirked, but he wasn’t mad at the prospect. “Wanna be my study break for the weekend?”

You smirked, leaning up to quickly peck his lips. “As long as you’re mine.”

He hauled your body on top of his and curled his fingers into your hair. “We’ll get your shit in the morning, then.”

“It’s a deal.” You kissed him, lips slotting against one another, slower and less hurried than before, but that same undercurrent of desire stringing between you two. You were already grinding into him, hips brushing over his as you moved.

Suddenly, a pounding sound came from the door, and you froze. “Fuck off!” Harry called, pulling the comforter that had ended up at the bottom of the bed over the two of you.

“Fuck—sorry—I need a condom, man.” The words were muffled, but you heard them all the same.

Harry snorted, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Go ask Nick,” he replied, “and leave me the fuck alone.” His hands grabbed at you, kneading into your ass, and you licked at his nipple.

It was going to be a long weekend.

SEND ME CONCEPTS ABOUT Y/N AND HARRY!

#frat boy harry #frat boy au #frat boy fan fiction #Harry Styles #Harry Styles Fan Fiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles drabble #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing

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harryspet · 4 years

Text

secret service | bucky barnes

[Warnings] secret service!bucky x reader, reader is vp’s daughter, bodyguard!bucky, agegap, noncon/dubcon sex, brat tamer bucky, dominant x submissive, rough sex (wear protection kids!!)

A/N: this is for @nsfwsebbie ‘s dream fic challenge. Happy b-day sab! this is @mypoisonedvine ‘s dream fic and the prompt was “I would love anything dark bucky, especially if he starts out all nice and stuff but then he's all manipulative and it gets worse and worse until we're in heavy dub con/non con territory”. hope you enjoy bb!

In which a political trip to London allows you to be reunited with your favorite secret service member, Bucky Barnes.

taglist: @peterztinglez @lovelynerdytraveler @buckybarney @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything @saharzek @lovemassivelybeautifulbouquet @what-is-your-wish @marvelslut-musicalnerd @brattypeony @hermayone @buckysugar @mandiiblanche @cherienymphe

word count: 3.9k

main masterlist

“You’ll need to be on your best behavior this weekend. We can’t have an incident like last year.”

You didn’t meet your mother’s eyes as you looked out the window of the private plane. Surprising to most, this time you spent watching her read her millions of paperwork was the most time you spent with her. Your mother cared for you but she was not warm. You didn’t believe a warm person could make it so high in the government. Being the daughter of the Vice President, you saw the kinds of dirty, manipulative politics that went on behind the scene.

You wanted little part of it but, here you were, about to land in London for an important public event.

“Y/N? Are you listening?” She continued to talk despite your lack of an answer, “That means you tell your agents when you’re going somewhere. I don’t care if you’re only walking down the hall to the ice machine, you tell them. You’ve known this since you were a little girl, I don’t know why you always give me a hard time.”

“I’m already here alone, Mom. Must you torture me further by suffocating me?”

“I know you must think it’s fun to rendezvous with some foreign prince but I must ask you to keep your legs closed for this trip and listen to your security.”

Your mouth parted. She thought of you as some whore but the truth was that you were far from the persona she forced upon you, “You don’t know me at all. And Alden isn’t a prince, his father is a prince. He’s just a duke,” You faked a smile and she scowled at you.

You weren’t expecting her next words, “I have a surprise for you when we land.”

You paused for a moment, trying to read her face. She was perfect at disguising her true emotions and, as her daughter, the thought that you didn’t really know your mother was saddening, “A surprise? I thought you were lecturing me.”

“You won’t listen unless I bribe you, Y/N,” Just as the words left her mouth, the pilot spoke on the intercom. The plane was beginning its descent and in a moment you’d be landing. One of your mother's assistants had to approve all your outfits for this trip. After some discourse, you decided on a light pink dress for your arrival look. It hugged your curves the way you liked but it reached down to your knees modestly as your mother preferred.

When you were finally stepping down the stairs to the plane, watching your mother wave to the press, and the diplomats ready to greet her, you realized what your surprise was. Two sleek, black cars waited at the end of the red carpet and the sight of the man standing in front of the second one made your heart race.

It took everything in you not to run to him. His dark hair was styled neatly, his arms folded over his nicely pressed black suit and a soft look of happiness was displayed on his strong face. He was just like you remembered him, the earpiece in his ear and the gold pin on his lapel reminded you of his position.

“This is my surprise?” Your mother turned to you with a grin.

“I know how much you like Agent Barnes, maybe you’ll actually listen to him. You’re going straight to your hotel room, I will see you later tonight.”

“Of course, my beloved mother. Like all teenagers, I love sitting in my hotel room and doing nothing while I’m on a trip.”

You watched your mother walk away from you, going to the first car while you approached the second car. Your speed picked up as you neared him. He opened the door for you, winking, “Girl Scout is in the Stage Coach. I repeat, Girl Scout is in the Stage Coach.”

Everyone the secret service protected had a codename. You’d been a proud girl scout for most of elementary school and then middle school when your mother went from Senator to Vice President. The name stuck and you thought it was annoying now that you’d grown out of that phase but you liked the name on his lips.

As you carefully slipped inside the car, you were beaming and, as Bucky slipped in beside you, you had to wait to pounce. You attacked him with a hug as soon as the doors closed and none of the crowd could see you through the tinted windows. You felt his hand against your back, hugging you tightly and it was then that you realized how touch starved you had been.

Everyone you came in contact had to go through your guards and that was often an intimidating process for most guys. Even though you had started college, you decided to avoid boys altogether because of this.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Your eyes were wide even as you pulled away from him, “How?”

Bucky gave you a soft smile, “Well I can’t tell you all the details since they’re top secret but, let’s say, my mission didn’t take as long as predicted.”

Your eyes narrowed at him in curiosity, “So you killed the bad guys and they let you come back to play babysitter?”

Bucky shook his head, giving you an amused look, “So crass. I see nothing has changed,” He leaned over and, for the briefest second, you thought his face was leaning into yours. Instead, he had reached over to grab your seatbelt as he safely secured it around your waist. Your cheeks heated up and you found yourself looking into the rearview mirror where you could see the two agents sitting in the front seat, “I apologize for being gone so long.”

“You didn’t miss much,” You said to console him, “Just senior year which was nothing special.”

Seeing him now made you think about meeting him those six years ago. He was so young then, just having served in the Army, but somehow aging had made him look even better. You had a feeling he was just as king and loyal as before. You were just a middle schooler at the time, hormonal, and constantly fighting with your parents about your lack of freedom. Maybe you hadn’t changed much either.

You watched him fasten his own seatbelt as the car began to take off, “Nothing special, hmm?” He cocked his eyebrow, “What about prom? Graduation?”

“Oh, it was effectively ruined by my arch-nemesis. He stole my spot as Salutatorian, my prom date wouldn’t stop talking to him about nanotech for the entire evening, and guess who got into Stanford for early admission just like yours truly?”

“Little Peter Parker?” Bucky chuckled.

“He’s not so little anymore,” You crossed your arms, pouting, “He’s only jealous that my mother was chosen as Vice President and his uncle was chosen for the lousy Secretary of Labor position.”

“Seems he must like you a lot to follow you to Stanford. To move all the way across the country,” You gave him an incredulous look, “C’mon, princess, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

“Of course I’ve noticed,” You rushed out your words, trying to ignore that feeling you got when he called you princess. If anyone else had said that, you’d probably feel disgusted but … you couldn’t help but think that term of endearment had changed its meaning. The truth was that you never thought Peter liked you and now you were worrying that your lack of social awareness had caused you to ignore the warning signs, “The last person I want to talk about is Peter Parker, Bucky.”

“Fine,” He folded his hands in front of him, sighing.

“Besides,” You side-eyed him mischievously, “I have someone far more important who feigns for my attention.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky leaned in.

“A duke,” You finished.

Bucky’s face seemed to fall, “I can’t imagine you as a duchess,” You couldn’t imagine yourself as one either but you liked the excitement that Alden brought you, “And your mother informed me of what happened last year. I’ll probably lose my job if something like that occurs again.”

“You’d tattle on me? I thought we were friends, Bucky.”

“That was when you were a harmless little girl. Now, you’re …” His eyes seemed to roam over your face then they fell to your neck but they moved back to your eyes before they could travel any lower, “You’re going to make this hard on me, aren’t you?”

You reached out to tap his cheek playfully and smirked, “I missed you.”

You weren’t sure exactly what holier-than-thou charity that these rich people had gathered in ball gowns to donate to. It was probably a minuscule fraction of their wealth and they most likely were only here to keep up appearances. Still, you enjoyed a chance to dress up.

You moved through the historical museum in a red ball gown, admiring all the expensive artifacts, as Bucky escorted you. You expected your mother to be with you during the event she’d forced you to attend but it seemed that she was once again too busy. You would’ve felt lonely if Bucky hadn’t been there. The other agents kept their distance, wearing tuxedos to blend into the rest of the crowd as they watched you from a distance.

Every now and then your conversation with Bucky would be interrupted by a message coming through his squiggly earpiece.

He looked quite handsome tonight and by the outline of his biceps against the fabric of his tuxedo jacket, you could tell he had bulked up over the last year.

“Madam Vice President had a run-in with the Prime Minister's wife. Turns out they’ve been dying to talk. She’ll meet you once the auction begins.”

“Oh, an auction, is that what this is? What endangered species are we saving tonight?”

“Funny,” Bucky added sarcastically, “... I don’t see your prince around. Perhaps he found another famous daughter to entertain for the night.”

You gave him a venomous look, “That cannot be possible when I look like this,” You emphasized your glamorous look that had taken nearly five hours to get on, “Now, would you please escort me to my table? I’m sure he’ll come and find me once you’re not standing beside me like a big tree.”

The truth was that you had no idea if Alden even remembered you from last year. He did make out with you but who knows how many famous daughters he had tried to entertain before. You hated how right Bucky seemed.

Bucky didn’t add anything to your harsh words as he escorted you into a large ballroom. It was so elegantly decorated that the room smelled like money. Blue stripes of light wavered through the room making it feel like you were in the middle of the ocean. You couldn’t help that the feeling of drowning that she experienced was a bad touch on the organizer's part.

Of course, your mother’s table was right near the front of the room. As Bucky pulled back the white chair, you took a seat, not meeting his eyes, “You’re dismissed, Mr. Barnes,” You spoke over your shoulder.

To your surprise, he leaned down to whisper into your ear, “You cause any problems tonight, princess, and you deal with me.”

Your mouth pinched into a thin line as you were left speechless. When you looked back, he was already walking away, taking his position by the far wall. You looked away quickly, mentally cursing. So much for having the upper-hand. You slouched in your seat, looking around the hall which was now flooding with people.

A few people you vaguely remembered having a conversation with approached you to talk. Hollywood celebrities, European politicians, and even famous designers hoping to get you to wear some of their designs. Lately, the paparazzi loved to follow you as you walked to class and gossip sites loved to talk about what you wore.

Everyone was so busy trying to get your attention that you hadn’t noticed someone slip in the seat beside you, “You look like you need something to drink,” You were a bit startled but you immediately recognized his voice. It seemed a year had made him more handsome as well. With one hand he grabbed yours and kissed it and with the other he handed you a glass of champagne.

“Your grace,” You greeted him, accepting the glass. You had almost forgotten that you could legally drink here. Despite that, you knew it would be improper to your mother. That’s why you took a sip, “Thank you so much-” You winced at the bitter taste but continued to sip.

The young duke was tall and red-headed, his face peppered with adorable freckles. His royal get-up was even more attractive.

You looked back at Bucky who was staring intently, “Is a night of fun in the cards for us?” You turned back to the Prince.

“I’m not supposed to rendezvous with royalty anymore. My Mom was not happy with me.”

He leaned back casually in his chair, his leisurely nature was surprising to you, “Is she usually happy with you?”

“Touche,” You took another painful sip, “Still, I’m not supposed to leave this table and I’m supposed to go straight back to my hotel room. No funny business.”

“No shenanigans whatsoever?” He frowned and you wondered why the British accent was so heavenly, “You must, at the very least, keep me entertained through whatever ceremony this is-”

“An auction, your grace.”

“What endangered species are we trying to save this time? It won’t be enough money anyways since they decorated this place with literal diamonds,” You smiled as you saw him reach into his jacket pocket and pulled out a flask, “Something stronger, perhaps?”

Bucky tapped his foot, starting to tune out the voice in his ear.

The room was now full of socialites, Madam Vice President had been escorted to her seat, and now the auction was beginning. The Vice President hadn’t so much as hugged her daughter so Bucky doubted she had noticed you were drinking yet. The young Duke would refill your glass with a clear liquid every time it ran low.

You were now giggling and laughing with him as a serious speech was given. You had to be at least six shots in. You played with his hand in your lap, leaning over to whisper in his ear, as you had the time of your life.

Bucky didn’t panic, only made a quick decision, “Girl Scout is in need of some rescuing. Clear the exit.”

Bucky scanned the room and his men began to follow his orders, as he approached your table. Before you could take another sip of your drink, his hand was on your shoulder. Your mother flashed him a concerned look but Bucky gave her a look to tell her not to worry. Luckily, she hadn’t noticed yet that you were about to go off the rails.

“Want some?” You smiled lazily as you lifted your glass. Bucky took it from you, setting back on the table.

“I think you need to use the bathroom, Miss Y/L/N,” You gave him a confused look. You wondered why he was being so stern with you.

“Nooo, I think you have the wrong woman, officer,” Bucky grabbed onto your hand, urging you up from your seat, “Let me deal with this rude man, your grace, I’ll be back soon.”

It seemed the Duke was in a similar, drunk state and simply replied with, “Return soon, my darling. I shall wait for your return-” You couldn’t respond because Bucky was trying to pull you away. Luckily, Bucky hadn’t managed to cause a scene but he knew you’d end up getting blackout drunk and embarrassing your mother if you continued.

Agents flocked around the two of you as you were guided out of the room. You almost tripped on the long skirt of your dress though Bucky easily caught you. You held onto him, giggling, “You couldn’t make it one night, could you?” You walked through a long hallway, staff carrying large plates of food passed and stared.

He brought you to the bathroom which was ginormous in itself, chandeliers hanging across the length of it, and completely empty, “I don’t think you’re supposed to be in here, officer.”

He leaned against the wall, “Walk around. Splash water on your face. Sober up.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning against the sink counter, as you stared at your makeup. As if you would ruin your makeup to “sober up”.

You pouted, staring at him through the mirror, “I didn’t mean to make you mad, Bucky. Only my mother.”

“Your mother is my boss. When you upset her, she’s upset with me,” Bucky was terse, and you wondered where that soft side was starting to disappear to, “You shouldn’t be drinking anyway.”

You huffed, hating that this conversation was starting to ruin your buzz, “I’m not a child. Don’t tell me you never had a sip of alcohol before you were twenty-one.”

“You think you’re more mature than you actually are,” You couldn’t help the scowl that formed on your face, “You’re not drinking for fun. You’re drinking to spite your mother.”

He moved closer, his hands behind his back as he sunk his words into you like a knife. You turned to him, taking a challenging step toward him. He towered over you but you clung to that anger and turned it to what you thought was confidence.

You grinned up at him, reaching out to play with the buttons of his jacket, “I thought you knew me better, Bucky,” You looked up at him with longing eyes, “I’m not a little girl anymore and you know that. You look at me differently. Your eyes linger on places you shouldn’t even be watching.”

Bucky grabbed your wrist tightly, suddenly, “Stop,” You knew you had touched a nerve.

“See, I know these things now,” You teased, “You like it when you can swoop me up and save me.”

“It’s my job, Y/N,” He spoke sternly. He was still holding you despite his words.

“What is it that you really want from me?” You pressed yourself closer to him, “A kiss maybe? Or something more forbidden?”

His eyes were dark with lust and you watched them linger on your lips at the mention of a kiss. What exactly did you want from him and what hole had you just dug for yourself? The alcohol was giving you courage but you weren’t actually sure how to finish what you started.

Bucky decided for you. He turned your body quickly, pressing your back into him, as a hand tightened around your throat. He faced you toward the mirror and the two of you were illuminated with bright lights. Your eyes widened as you watched him lean into your ear, “You’re such a brat ….”

Maybe part of him wanted you to mess up. Maybe he wanted a reason to get you alone with him and away from the royal douche that you were talking to. Maybe he let you get to this point ...

“Bucky, what are you-” His hand tightened around your throat and you felt your knees go weak.

He shushed you, “You asked what I really wanted. I want to punish you, princess,” Shivers went through your body as his warm breath tickled your ear, “I want to fuck you speechless so you can’t talk back with that smart little mouth of yours anymore.”

You started to struggle against you but you felt his fingers tighten around the sides of your throat. His hands were so big that they wrapped perfectly around your neck, “Hands on the counter,” He loosened his grip but only so he could push you forward. Like instinct, your hands held the sink counter. You turned your head to look back at him but he grabbed your hair, forcing your face forward, “Look forward, I want you to be able to see your pretty face while I fuck you.”

“Bucky, I’m sorry,” You forced out shakily as you felt the back of your dress being slowly unzipped. Through the mirror, you watched as he carefully took in the view of your body, “Please don’t hurt me-”

“Have I ever hurt you before?” He interrupted you, his hands traveling over your bareback, “I’ll always protect you, princess. I just think, if I’m going to keep doing my job, we need some new rules.”

The straps of your dress fell down your shoulder, exposing your breast. Again, as you tried to look away, he forced your face towards the mirror again, “Don’t be shy now,” He pulled down your panties, slapping your now exposed bottom, sending a stinging pain through your skin.

There was aching between your legs and part of you feared what he’d discover when he took a closer look. As you watched him undo his belt, a dark look in his eyes, you knew that he was going to push you all the way. He slapped your ass again, watching your body convulse as you tried to run from the pain. Surprisingly, his intimate touch only made that aching grow.

Upon closer examination, Bucky did discover the wetness between your legs. You bit down on your lip as his fingers roamed over your sweet spot, rubbing your sensitive bulb. You bent over further, allowing him more access which caused Bucky to smirk.

Something switched in him once again because suddenly he was pouncing again, positioning himself behind you as he pushed you further against the counter. He wanted you to see his face as he entered you, roughly grabbing your hair as he teased you entrance with his hard, throbbing cock.

“Please…”

“Please what? You want me to fuck you?” You closed your eyes, unwilling to answer, only to receive another smack to your bottom, “Don’t worry about what you want, princess, I’m making the decisions here.”

He stretched you as he slowly entered you and you tightly wrapped around his member, “Fuck, Y/N,” He cursed, moving deeper inside of you. At that moment, he was all that could feel, and all that consumed your thoughts. He moved torturously slow in and out of you and you gasped every time he sunk his entire length within you.

“Bucky!” You cried out, your mouth wide as you gripped the counter for dear life, “Ah, t-t-too big … p-please. Ah!”

He moved faster now, reaching around to grab ahold of your breast as he thrust inside of you. You called his name again and that only made him speed up his pace. He was torturing with his ferocity and now you wished he’d go back to taking it easy on you. You watched in the mirror as he split you apart, taking whatever innocence you had left within you, “Good girl, princess,” He praised you, “Taking my cock. So. Good.”

He was moving too fast now. With each thrust, he was hitting the right spot and sending pleasure in cascading waves through your body. You couldn’t take it, already tightening around his cock as you orgasm. You tried to run from it, trying to pull your body forward but he grabbed your arms, forcing you back onto his cock. Tears stung your eyes as he went even deeper.

When he finally came, he grunted hard, his moaning deep and heavy. You were defeated, conquered, though you didn’t understand why being violated could feel so good.

You leaned against the counter as you tried to catch your breath. Bucky ran his fingers through his hair, breathing heavily, before pulling up his pants and tightening his belt again. He adjusted his earpiece before looking at you over again. Shaking, you were pulling up the straps of your dress.

“Sober now?” He asked, a wicked smile on his face. “Let’s try yes sir and no sir from now on. Understand?”

“Yes… Sir.”

i love the whole secret service concept so i hope you enjoyed it too!

#dark fic #bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky x y/n #bucky barnes smut #dark!bucky smut #marvel #marvel smut #writing challenge #bucky barnes angst #secret service!bucky #president au #politician au

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