#this is why stuffies are my friends they can’t smell me

[stylesloveclub]

sunshine (part 2)

In which Harry's a little bit nicer, and y/n is very excited to possibly, hopefully, maybe be kissed.

sunshine (part 1)

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Y/n’s apartment is filled with a bunch of people she doesn’t know. Maddie has a bunch of people over – not really a party, but a fairly large gathering. A few of her school friends, a couple of her co-workers…. nobody that y/n is really close with, though. 

That’s why she locked herself in her room, away from the music and the stuffy, smoke-filled air. She said her polite hello and everything, of course! But… she just wasn’t in the mood to hang out with Maddie’s friends. They weren’t really y/n’s type of people, and the smell of weed is giving her a terrible headache. 

She bunches up her hair in her fists as she stares at the math problem in front of her. She had been able to do integrals just fine with Harry, but when you add trig into the equation? She’s thoroughly fucked. Not even The Organic Chemistry Tutor could help her work through this problem. 

A knock on her door makes her jump. “Come in,” she says politely, though her brows are still furrowed grumpily as she stares at the calculus in front of her. 

“S’this room taken?” a deep voice murmurs. 

She whips her head around, heart fluttering excitedly in her chest. “Harry,” she says softly. “What are you doing here?”

“Maddie invited Blake,” he says, sitting down on her bed. “And Blake invited me.” 

Oh. She should’ve known. 

She rolls away from her desk and faces Harry, who’s making himself more than comfortable on her bed, laying down with his head on her pillow. “Smells like shit out there,” he grunts. 

“Yeah,” she shrugs. She’s accepted that her apartment will always reek of weed, no matter how hard she tries to get rid of the smell. “Did you smoke anything with them?” she asks. 

“No, not in the mood.” Honestly, the only reason he decided to come over with Blake was because he knew that he’d be able to go chill in y/n’s room. Hanging out in Maddie’s smelly apartment was the last thing he wanted to do on a Thursday night, but… he knew y/n would be there, sitting quietly in her room like the good girl she is. “Did you?”

“No.” She fiddles with her fingers. “I– I don’t smoke.”

He snorts. “You don’t smoke but you live with Maddie?” Maddie cannot survive two seconds without her vape. “That doesn’t make sense.” 

“The smell of it gives me a headache,” she tries to explain. 

“Your apartment literally always smells like weed,” he deadpans. 

She blinks. “Yeah…” she trails off quietly. “If I close my door though the smell isn’t that bad.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “What are you working on?” he asks, pointing to the textbook sitting on her desk.

“Um– math.” His lips quirk up, while she pouts. “S’not making sense again.”

“Lemme see,” he says, sitting up. She looks at him for a second, not moving, but when he nods towards her ipad again she scrambles to pick it up and sit next to him on the bed. 

“So, what were you going to try and do?” he asks, grabbing her pen. She’s hyper aware of how their thighs are touching, how she can practically feel the heat radiating off his body.

“Um… I feel like I need to use one of the trig rules here but I can’t think of any that would do anything here.” 

“Okay you’re right… the issue is that none of your sins or cosins fit any of the rules. But you can break cos^3x down into cos^2x times cosx, right?” 

“Okay…” she looks up at him like a lost puppy, still not fully getting it. 

“Do you have any trig identities with cos^2x?”

“Um…” she shuffles through her notes, “ cos^2x equals 1 minus sin^2x?”

He nods his head, “yeah. So now that everything is in terms of sin, you can do a u-sub.”

“Oh,” she blinks quietly, staring down at the paper. “Why’s it so easy when you explain it?” 

He shrugs, leaning back down onto her bed, “y’just need a lot of practice.”

The bottom of his shirt rises up as he puts his hands behind his head, revealing a pair of black ferns that point towards a yummy v-line. Y/n tries her best not to look, but she’s reminded of the night where she showed up to his apartment to pick up Maddie… how he’d been shirtless, his abdomen so chiseled and firm. The swallows on his collarbones, the butterfly that seemed to jump with every breath. She finds herself getting a bit short of breath as she thinks about all of the things hidden beneath his shirt currently.

That’s the thing about being a touch-deprived, romantic girl like y/n. The littlest things get her going. 

He was nice to her once, helped her with her math homework and comforted her when she cried, and now her heart flutters like crazy when she sees him. Just the smallest rise of Harry’s shirt has her spiraling. 

She can’t help but notice the way his biceps bulge subtly as he puts his hands behind his head, and finds herself overwhelmed with the fact that this boy – an attractive boy – was just laying in her bed casually.

She knows it’s no big deal for Harry, he’s probably just in here because the living room stinks and he needs to clear his head. But for her, it’s a lot. She never has boys in her room, has never had a romantic interaction with a boy. Hasn’t even been kissed. It’s always just very friendly – getting notes from a guy in her class, joking around with some of Maddie’s friends. She’s never had a boy talk to her any more than that. 

Harry, though… Harry comes into her room and talks to her even when there’s a whole party going on outside. He kept her company when she was stranded at his apartment, he took her home and took care of her when she was drunk and emotional. It probably meant nothing to him, but the way he grabbed her ankle and told her to lie down when he was helping her into bed was one of the most tender things she’s ever experienced. He put his hand on her waist, and held her arm while she stumbled, he’d guided her through the door with his hand on the small of her waist. 

And when he saw her crying at the library, he came over and talked to her. Comforted her and let her rant about her classes. He’d let her into his room and helped her with her homework, murmured soft praises to her when she got a question right, his arm brushing against hers, or his chest rubbing against her shoulder. 

The stupidest little things, that are probably so insignificant for him, have been on her mind for days.

“Hey,” Harry says, snapping her out of her daydreams. She tears her eyes away from his ferns embarrassedly, hoping he didn’t notice. “What are you thinkin’ about?”

She averts her eyes, looking down at her bedsheet. “Um, nothing.”

He quirks his brows. “Nothing?”

“Mhm,” she nods her head innocently.

‘Really?” he asks again, his lip twitching with the slightest hint of amusement, sitting up on his elbows now. He raises himself up so that they’re face to face. He’s not an idiot.

She bites her lip nervously, and her heart stops when Harry’s eyes flicker down to watch. He stares at her with a strange look in his eye… a glimmer in them that she’s only ever read about in books. His eyebrows furrow as though he’s deep in thought, eyes still glued to her lips. 

She wonders if she’s hallucinating when he leans in. 

She thought she was being silly for starting to feel things for him – that she was just being classic y/n, crushing on a guy even though she knows she’s too shy to ever make a move. Now, with how close he is, she can see every freckle on his tan skin, every lash that frames his bright green eyes. She breathes with a tight chest, swallowing thickly as her eyes flicker between his, wide and curious. His eyes still haven’t left her lips.

Her heart stutters as his large hand makes its way to her thigh, his palm warm and smooth, gently grazing her skin. He unconsciously inches closer and closer, incapable of pulling his eyes away from her mouth. 

He wets his bottom lip with his tongue, a force of habit, and finally looks her in the eye. His irises have turned a dark green, pupils dilated, and his breathing has deepened. She has no idea what’s going on in his head, but he looks serious. Deep in thought. His hand still rests on her thigh, the contact sending sparks of electricity all over her body, especially when his fingers gently start to trail upwards. 

Her eyes flutter shut as she tries to take deep, calm breaths, but he’s gotten so close that she can feel the puff of his breathing against her lips, inhaling his every exhale. It makes her lightheaded. He’s so close… so, so close…

A loud pounding on the door makes y/n jump away from him. 

Her eyes are blown out when she jerks them open, her heart pounding harshly with anticipation that’s been left unsatisfied. “Who is it?” she calls out with a shaky voice. 

Harry hasn’t moved an inch. He sits there and stares at her, hand still on her thigh. 

“Is Harry in there?” Maddie yells. “Blake is ready to go.”

He brings a hand up and tugs on her bottom lip with his thumb, then watches it bounce back into place, hypnotizing himself with the sight. Y/n, unable to get any words out, sits there and watches him as he stares at her lips.

“Hellooo?” Maddie obnoxiously yells again.

Harry’s nose flares and he shuts his eyes, frustratedly pulling himself away from y/n. She says nothing, still in a daze, watching as he leaves her bed. He stands and runs a hair through his messy curls, before heading towards the door and opening it. Maddie stands in front of the door with her fist raised, ready to knock on the door again. 

“Calm down,” he says, eyeing her coldly. Maddie rolls her eyes and walks away to tell Blake that she found Harry.

He turns around for a moment and glances at y/n. “See ya,” he says. 

She blinks, her hand coming up to touch her lips, searching for some confirmation that this was real and she hadn’t imagined it. “Bye,” she nearly whispers, breathless. 

The door shuts with a click and she finds herself alone with her thoughts. Her math homework sits abandoned on her bed, and will probably remain untouched for the rest of the night.

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Finally, y/n has Harry all to herself.

She’d been dancing around him all night, constantly catching his eye from across the room in a game of cat and mouse. He watched her from the corner of the room he was stationed in with his dark eyes, a teasing smirk on his face. He knew what she was doing – trying to distract him. It was working. 

He watched her as she mingled and talked, watched as she sipped on her drink, watched as she weaved her way through the passes of people in her apartment, pushing past the hot bodies and sweaty skin until she disappeared in her room. 

He followed her in, less than a minute later.

She hears him walk into the room, the sound of him turning the lock and his heavy footsteps approaching her. A shiver runs down her spine when his hands grab her shoulders from behind, goosebumps rising on her arms almost instantaneously. His firm front pushes against her back, toned stomach pressed against the curve of spine. 

His fingers are warm and gentle on her shoulders, comforting yet teasing at the same time. He doesn’t hold her firmly – his featherlight touch more tantalizing than any other form of contact. These light, delicate brushes of his skin keep her on her toes, never knowing what to expect next. She holds her breath as his fingers travel from her shoulders, down the length of her arms. 

Suddenly, she feels his lips against her ear. She can’t help the soft, aroused breath that leaves her as his lips skim the shell of her ear. He chuckles, low and taunting, and she can feel the deep reverberations of his chest against her back.

“I’ve been waiting f’this,” he murmurs softly. His warm breath tickles her ear, sending waves of pleasure straight down to her core, and his hands have migrated from her arms to her hips now. He grips them, fingers digging into the soft flesh there, and pulls her back, grinding her into his front. She swallows a whimper down, eyes fluttering shut. A hard bulge presses against her ass, and she can’t resist the urge to press back on it, wriggle her hips even though Harry’s holding her still. “You’ve been teasing me…” he presses a kiss right underneath her earlobe. “Playing all innocent when I know you’re actually filthy.” Another kiss, and another kiss, trailing his lips down the curve of her neck.

She lets out a pathetic, shaky whimper, and it makes him chuckle tauntingly. “Your head is just filled with dirty thoughts, isn’t it?” Her knees go weak as he wraps a hand around her throat, tilting her head to the side so that he can look at her. “Bet you’re just dying for me to fuck you.” 

Her eyes are wide and round, and her entire body turns into jelly. The only reason she’s standing right now is because Harry’s holding her up. She can’t get any words out, pathetically wrapped around his finger. She looks up at him with a pleading gaze, begging him to do something… anything…

The sound of her 8 AM alarm yanks her straight out of dreamland.

Her eyes are bleary as she frantically looks around her bed, gathering her bearings. She has to triple check that Harry isn’t anywhere in her room – looking at every corner and patting around her sheets as well – before she can confirm that it was all a dream. 

Oh gosh. This is like the third time this week! 

She doesn’t mean to be having these dreams. It's a rather embarrassing situation for her and she honest to god would much rather just read a couple of steamy romance books about fictional vampires to get the horniness out of her system, instead of having repeated wet dreams about a very real Harry. 

They make her feel icky because, like– isn’t it a bit disrespectful to be having such dirty thoughts about someone who’s just been helping her with her math homework and potentially also kissing her had they not been interrupted? Like what are the boundaries there? You can’t really ask someone for consent to having wet dreams about them… but it’s not like she was consenting to those dreams either! She can’t control what her subconscious mind decides to stir up for her nightly dream! 

She tries to logic it out – how would she feel if Harry was having wet dreams about her? Well… actually the thought of it makes her a little bit excited, cos that would mean he likes her, right? Ugh, no, she’s getting distracted!

It’s all very typical horny virgin behavior. Ever since her almost kiss with Harry, her mind has been in shambles. Her first issue is trying to wrap her head around the entire thing – had Harry actually wanted to kiss her? She hadn’t made that up, right? 

She’s replayed the night a hundred times in her head. Remembers exactly how his hand felt on her thigh, how he’d stared at her lips, how their eyes had fluttered shut, how their noses brushed… all the things she’s read about in her books! All the ingredients for a first kiss! 

How tragic that it’d been interrupted. She thinks that’s why her brain has been overly active this past week – her subconscious has been trying to fulfill the insatisfaction she felt when she jumped away from Harry, just seconds before their lips touched. It feels like she’s been edged over and over again and been denied an orgasm five times – but the orgasm is her first kiss and she’s being edged by Maddie, who stole that kiss away by knocking on her door! 

She flops around in her bed frustratedly, smushing her face into her pillow with a sad groan. What if Harry doesn’t wanna kiss her the next time he sees her? What if this was a one time opportunity? She doesn’t want to sound desperate… but she really wanted to kiss Harry! She’d be really sad if it was just a whim of the moment kinda thing. 

But also… if it wasn’t just a one time thing… if he did actually want to kiss her… well how was she gonna end up in the situation to be kissed by him again? 

She’s thinking about this way too hard, way too early in the morning. And she’s uncomfortably wet from her dream.

She needs to get herself sorted out. 

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The chair in front of y/n screeches loudly as it’s pulled from under the table she’s sitting at. She jumps at the sound of it, having been too engrossed in her book to be aware of what’s going on around her. When she looks up, she finds Harry standing at her tiny table in the campus coffee shop.

“Can I sit here?” he asks, his jaw tight. He’s wearing a gray Kendrick Lamar hoodie with the words DAMN. written in bold font across the front, his curly hair messily hidden underneath. All the other tables in the shop were taken (it tends to get pretty busy at noonish when everyone needs somewhere to sit and study), and Harry needs somewhere to sit before his next lecture.

She nods, eyes wide like a baby sheep. It’s quite jarring to just randomly see the guy you’ve been having sexy dreams about – especially for someone like y/n who apparently can’t be normal about having a crush or having an almost first kiss. She hopes she’s acting normal enough to not raise any suspicion. 

Trying to not get distracted by his green eyes and pretty pink lips, y/n looks down at the table, but finds herself instead staring at Harry’s hands. He has nice hands, she thinks to herself. The cross tattoo on his left hand compliments his tan skin nicely, and he has these thick knuckles that she just wants to run her fingers over. In one of his hands he holds a coffee cup, and even though she and him both got a medium sized coffee, his drink looks smaller, dwarfed in his massive hands. His thumb is fingering the lid of his drink mindlessly, and she remembers how that same thumb had touched her lips just over a week ago… how he’d tugged on her bottom lip and hypnotized himself with the sight of it bouncing back into place. And while she’s on that train of thought, she can’t help but remember how his hands portrayed such a significant role in her dream last night. Hadn’t she imagined them being wrapped around her throat–?

Harry clears his throat. Y/n glows with heat. She has absolutely no capability of being normal around him. “Sorry, what?” She hadn’t heard a word he’d said in the past minute, too caught up in her own thoughts. 

He smirks. Is she always this distracted? “Just asked how it’s going.”

“Oh! Oh, yeah– good, I’m good,” she closes the book, folding the corner of the page she’s on as a bookmark. “How about you?”

He shrugs. “Just got out of class. Needed a coffee.”

“What’d you get?”

“Just a black coffee.”

She can’t stop herself from wrinkling her nose, “Ew.” 

 He quirks a brow, “Well what’d you get?” “Vanilla latte with oat milk.” Yeah. She would be an oat milk girl.

Considering their recent frequency in seeing each other and his newfound… fondness towards her, he doesn’t find it difficult to start picking and prodding at her, getting to know her. He realizes Blake was right – she wasn’t a super duper shy girl, she probably had just been scared of him. Once he started talking to her and smiling every once in a while, it seems like she loosened up. What used to be painfully awkward conversations have now become free flowing and casual.

He picks up the book she was reading and reads the cover. “Book Lovers by Emily Henry. Awfully fitting for you.”

She furrows her brow, already offended. She hates it when people make fun of her books – especially boys who make fun of her for reading romance. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a book lover, aren’t you? Can never find you without your nose in a book.” 

She relaxes. “Oh… yeah,” a soft chuckle escapes her. “Yeah, I guess I’m a book lover.”

“You think I’d like this one?” he asks, flipping through the first few pages. 

“Um… maybe.” She can’t imagine Harry being a huge fan of her soft romance books. “Are you a reader?”

“God, no,” he puts the book down. “Not smart enough for that.”

Her jaw drops. “You are totally smart, Harry! Way smarter than me!” she exclaims.

“M’just good at math,” he shrugs, “You’re little miss smartie, with your color coded notes. Reading your books for fun.” 

She grows shy. Part of her thought that Harry thought she was stupid – not the over-emotional-girl-who-cries-too-much kind of stupid, but rather the kind of stupid that makes you wonder how she even got into this school because she’s doing so bad in math. 

It was a massive hit to her girlboss mentality when she had to ask Harry for help, and even though Harry never actually made her feel dumb when answering her questions… she just had this mean voice in the back of her head that constantly nagged her, convincing her that Harry thought she was a stupid girl who should just give up and drop out. And ignoring that voice is really hard, so…  it was just nice to hear that he didn’t think she was a stupid little baby. It made that mean voice in her head shut up. 

“Um… by the way. My next calc midterm is next Friday. I was wondering if, um…” she tucks her hair behind her ear nervously. 

He fills in the rest for her. “Do you want to revise together this weekend?” 

“If it’s not too much trouble,” she says bashfully. “Your tutoring is super helpful.” 

“You can come over on Saturday,” he sips on his coffee. “No trouble.”

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“Is this right?” Y/n shows her work to Harry, and he nods. They’re both on his bed, except Harry’s lying down with his head on a pillow, scrolling through tiktok, while y/n’s hunched over her ipad. She’s been doing practice problems for the past three hours, asking Harry for help every once in a while. That's how it’s been most of the night – her study session is mostly just him checking her work to make sure she’s not doing anything funky and giving her hints if she’s stuck. 

She’s studied a lot in the past two weeks and luckily doesn’t need Harry to be guiding her through every problem, which makes her really happy. And she’s only gotten a couple of the practice problems wrong! Some of them were particularly tricky and had her stumped, but that’s why she has Harry. He helped her out of roadblocks and kept her motivated. Without him here, she probably would’ve given up after the first question that she didn’t know how to solve.

“You should take a break,” he says.

She’d refused to take any breaks since she got here – determined to finish the practice test that her professor had posted while she had Harry next to her to help. Now that she finished all the problems, she locks her ipad and puts it on Harry’s bedside table. She leans back on one of Harry’s pillows and copies Harry, holding her phone above her face. Except instead of scrolling through tiktok, she opens up her kindle app and starts reading.

He sees the tiny font on her screen from the corner of his eye. “Reading?” he asks.

“Mhm,” she shuffles around on his bed, getting comfortable. 

He thinks it’s kind of cute that she’s always reading. “Is it the same one as last time? Book Lovers?”

“No, I finished that one yesterday! This is by the same author though. S’called Beach Read.”

“What’s it about?” he turns off his own phone and sits up, turning to look down at y/n. Her hair is splayed across his pillows, and her eyes glimmer softly in his bedroom lighting.

She feels a little shy describing one of her favorite books to Harry – she’s often been ridiculed by her friends for being so lovey dovey and reading her silly romance books. But he seemed genuine when he asked. “Um– there are these two writers. The girl writes romance and the guy writes like these serious fiction books. And they’re kinda rivals.” 

He hums. “Let me read a little bit,” he looks down at the screen of her phone. “I tightened my thighs around the sides of his body–” he reads aloud, before she yanks her phone out of his sight.

“No!” she yelps, turning her phone off and practically throwing it across the room. “You are not allowed to read it!” 

He laughs, a fully amused belly laugh, and the sound is beautiful but she doesn’t allow herself to revel in it due to her embarrassment. “What are you reading?” he giggles.

“Oh my gosh,” she hides her face in her hands. 

“Didn’t expect you to be reading such dirty stories,” he teases, “I thought you were a good girl.”

“It’s not all dirty!” she defends herself. “It’s– it’s sweet! It’s a love story… it’s romantic.” Her voice gets quiet near the end. 

Harry’s laughter bubbles down and he’s left with a smirk on his face, while y/n lays in front of him, an embarrassed pout on her face. “M’only teasing,” he says as he reaches a hand out to rest on her thigh, not wanting her to look so sad. “Read whatever you want. Seems like a cute book, maybe I should pick it up, hm?” 

Her mind goes a little blank when his hand meets her thigh, his palm warming her skin once more – just like that night he’d almost kissed her. “Y-yeah, you might like it,” she clears her throat. “S’one of my favorites.”

That same look glazes over Harry’s eyes – that dark look, as if he’s deep in thought. 

She swallows thickly. Could this be it? Her second chance at a kiss with Harry?

She pushes herself up on her elbows, more alert. Her palms feel sweaty and she finds her fingers nervously toying with his comforter. A million thoughts are racing in her head as she searches Harry’s eyes, flickering back and forth, trying to see what he might be thinking of. He’s so hard to read. She feels like she’s drowning in his eyes. 

Almost as if he can read her thoughts, he leans forwards. She hopes she doesn’t look like an over-eager puppy, but her eyes light up and practically beg him to come closer, to just kiss her! He smiles to himself a bit, and obliges. 

With y/n laying on his bed, propped up by her elbows, and Harry already having been sat up on the bed, he doesn’t need to move that much closer for their faces to be aligned. He’s leaning over her, one hand holding him up, while the other hand comes up to her cheek.

She gasps when his large palm comes up to cup her face, his palm on her jaw and fingers sliding into her hair. He inches closer and closer, his eyes fluttering shut when his nose brushes against hers ever so lightly. She can feel the puff of his breathing against her lips, breathing in each of his exhales as she tries to stay calm. She forces her eyes shut, her entire body alive with butterflies.

He wets his bottom lip with his tongue, a force of habit, and nudges his nose against hers. She tilts her head to the side. He teases her for a second, gives her the chance to pull away by just grazing their lips together teasingly, and feels her sharp intake of breath at the contact. He can’t help but smirk against her lips.

With her eyes closed, she’s hyper aware of how it feels. The way his curls brush against her face… the warmth of his palm as he tilts her head upwards… the wetness of his lips as he finally… connects them… in a kiss. 

This was it. Her first kiss. 

There’s not one thought in her head, a stark contrast to how she’d spent countless sleepless nights overthinking the mechanics of kissing someone. She’d always worried that she’d mess it up, that she’d freeze and wouldn’t know what to do. 

But falling into the gentle caress of Harry’s lips is easy. Her nerves spill, her muscles relax, and she just lets herself melt against Harry’s lips. He suckles on her bottom lip gently, folds their lips together, pulls away with soft clicks just to reattach a second later. She sighs dreamily into his mouth and lets herself fall back into the bed, her head against his pillow. He doesn’t let their lips disconnect, following her down and climbing on top of her so that one of his legs is stationed between her thighs. 

She wonders if all kisses are this magnificent, or if it’s just Harry. Is it normal to feel your heart stuttering in your chest, or feel electricity flowing through your veins at just the touch of someone’s lips? Would she always lean her face into the palm of his hand, and let herself relax in the bliss of feeling his lips against hers?

It’s wonderful – a head-spinning, heart-fluttering, electrifying kiss. 

Harry’s hand that isn’t holding himself up comes down to rest on her thigh, goosebumps rising under his touch. His kisses start to grow more pressured, inhaling sharply and breathing heavily against her, tongue licking at the seam of her lips eagerly. His nose bends against her face as he tilts his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he tastes the sweet chapstick on her lips. Her skin is warm and soft and plushy underneath his touch, and her lips are addictive. 

He uses his grip on her thigh to hike her leg up, fitting his hips between hers and sliding his hand up and down her leg tantalizingly. He can feel her losing her breath, so he forces himself off of her lips and starts kissing down her neck. He skims his lips down, presses wet, hot kisses on her throat, his every breath making her core clench. 

She squeezes her eyes shut, eyes rolling into the back of her head, and takes heavy breaths, chest rising and falling shakily. Her hands come up to grab onto him – just hold onto him in any way – and the first thing her hands land on are his biceps. His firm, toned biceps, that are flexing as he hovers above her. In an effort to feel more grounded, she squeezes her fingers, but it just ends up making her even more lightheaded because god he’s so strong and muscular and he’s kissing her right now! 

She’s overwhelmed and her head is spinning and it feels like she’s in a dream, an amazing dream that feels so good and that she never wants to end – she can smell his aftershave and his shampoo and his overall yummy boy smell, and her lips are tingling with the aftermath of his kiss. She’d always imagined what it would be like to have her neck kissed and sucked on by a boy and now that it’s happening it’s better than she could’ve ever imagined, and she’s so sensitive, and it’s just different to have a real person touching you and kissing you all over, especially someone that she’s majorly attracted to and–

Harry presses his hips into her center and, wow, if it isn't the most arousing thing she’s ever experienced. Excitement and anticipation fill her veins… but then a trickle of doubt starts to filter in. She’d only just had her first kiss, was she ready to go any further than that? 

‘H-Harry,” she says, but it’s more of a moan because his fingers squeeze her hips and he’s kissing right underneath her earlobe right now and it’s sending shivers down all over her body. “M-maybe we should stop.”

“Hm?” He pulls away from where he was buried in her neck, his eyes blown out and lips slicked with a mix of their spit. 

“I-I’m not ready to have sex with you, if that’s what you want.”

“That’s okay,” he says, licking his lips. “I could just eat you out.”

And, god, if that doesn’t make her whimper. “I– no, I um…” she stammers over herself.

He smiles. “What is it?” he murmurs, an amused lilt to his voice.

“I… I haven’t done any of… that.” She swallows, looking at him nervously. Her heart, which had once been racing with excitement, now pounds with apprehension. This is the first time she’s been in this position and she’s feeling so vulnerable. 

It’s extremely scary and nerve-wracking and Harry’s silence is not doing anything to help her feel better.

“You’re a virgin?” he asks after a beat.

She nods. She feels insecure under his gaze, and even though she’s fully clothed, she feels totally exposed.

He laughs. “Are you really?” he asks again.

Her eyes flash with hurt. She just shared something extremely intimate with him, shared her very first kiss with him… and he was laughing at her?

She feels her heart drop, and her cheeks flame with insecurity. 

“Um–" she swallows around the lump developing in her throat. "I should go,” she says, barely over a whisper. She puts her hands on his chest and pushes him away, sliding out from underneath him and climbing out of his bed. Grabbing her ipad, she shoves it into her backpack, along with her notes that were scattered along his desk and her phone lying at the foot of his bed. Her cheeks burn hot and her heart is aching in her chest.

“What?” He doesn’t challenge her when she pushes him away, but he stares at her with his eyebrows furrowed, confused at the sudden mood shift. “What happened?”

She doesn’t answer. Her throat is hurting, the painful lump a tell-tale sign of the tears getting ready to fall.

“Y/n?” he asks again, getting off his bed and walking towards her. All amusement has left his face, brows furrowed in a concerned manner. She shrugs him off when he approaches her.

“Don’t.” She feels embarrassed, her mind only filled with insecurity. He was making fun of her for being a virgin, teasing her. As if she wasn’t already embarrassed enough about it herself.

She’d planned on calling Maddie to come pick her up when she was ready to go, but it doesn’t matter anymore. She leaves his room hastily, before any of the tears can fall, and nearly runs out of his apartment. 

She’ll walk home. 

˙· .° ｡  ˚ ｡  ° . · ˚ ˙ · . ° ｡ ˚ ｡  ° . · ˙ · .° ｡ ˚ ｡ °.  · ˙ ‧̍̊  

OMG!!! HOPE U GUYS LIKED ITTTTTT HEHEHEHE :-) part 3 is up on my patreon already and will come to tumblr next saturday (augsut 5) pleeeeaaaase lmk what u think and give her a rb and a comment i LOVE U GUYS SO SO MUCH!!!!

sunshine (part 3) - in which y/n just wants to get this whole virginity thing out of the way, and Harry needs to grovel a bit before she forgives him.

sunshine masterlist

#harry #harry fic #harry smut #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles writing #fic rec #harry fic rec #harry styles fic rec

[tomriddleslove]

The Black Lake, a shared blunt, and realisations.

✩Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Summary: The one where Mattheo has had enough. Everyone and everything seems to be agitating him, and he feels as though he can’t catch a break. Then you come along. Alternatively: You may just be his saving grace, hidden in plain sight.

Slight? Angst but mainly fluff

A/N: I get all my fic ideas when listening to music so bear with me when I say there’s a very certain vibe to this and you have to know the song to understand it.

Songs: Tek it - Cafuné

The clock strikes noon, and Mattheo couldn’t be more than relieved to finally leave the stuffy clasroom. Tossing his bag over his shoulder, he swiftly makes his way out of the classroom, ignoring the agitated glares of the other students he had so rudely shoved past.

Now Mattheo wishes he could say he wasn’t this rude that often. He didn’t really go out of his way to fight people per se, but it just so happened to be that he was quite confrontational and rather good at resolving things with his fists. However these past few days he had been more on edge than usual, snapping at almost everyone for reasons that were far beyond him.

Everything seemed to agitate him immensely, from the way lessons seemed to drag on, to his deskmates who all seemed to have a penchant for being the most agitating, infuriating people possible.

I mean, seriously? What could compel a person to chomp down on a beef sandwich in the middle of class at 10 in the morning? The professor may not have noticed but Mattheo most certainly did, having to spend the last hour with a raging headache trying to ignore the obnoxious chewing sounds and the revolting smell of beef.

He all but almost cries as he collapses down onto the sofa in the common room, grateful for the fact that everyone else seemed to have lessons currently. He closes his eyes for a millisecond, letting out a small sigh of frustration.

He feels the sofa dip beside him and that same frustration returns. He opens his eyes, ready to snap at whatever poor person had decided to sit next to him, but his gaze immediately softens when he realises it was you.

“Oh,” He murmurs, and a lazy grin tugs at your lips as you look over at him, raising a brow.

It’s remarkable just how quickly his mood seems to lighten when he sees you.

“Oh?” You repeat, amused.

“Mhmm. Just not in the mood for it recently and thought you were Belby or some other git. I was ready to hex you.” He murmurs, and you roll your eyes in mock admonishment as you reach for your book, leaning back into the sofa as you thumb through the pages.

“Charming, Riddle. Really, I feel flattered.” You say sarcastically, and the corners of Mattheo's mouth quirk upwards.

You and Mattheo were part of the same extended friend group. You weren’t the closest with him, yet you weren’t absolute strangers. You didn’t talk that much to one another, but got along surprisingly well. Mattheo was one of the only people (bar Blaise) who could match your wit and dry humour, and you were one of the few (if not only) people who didn't seem to annoy him.

You pay him no mind as you read your book, and with any other person, Mattheo would have been largely grateful for that. But for some bizarre reason, he wants you to speak to him.

He glances over at you for a second, admiring the way the gentle glow from the fireplace illuminates your face as you read.

How oblivious could one get?

You break the silence, peering down at your book as you speak.

“Do you have a double free period?”

Mattheo hums, looking over at you. He wants you to look up at him so badly, and he can’t tell why. It seemed as though he’d need a slap in the face to make him realise why he craved so much attention from you.

He shifts on the sofa, trying to appear nonchalant as he replies, "Yeah, luckily. No classes for the rest of the day. What about you?"

You glance up from your book, meeting his gaze with a faint smile. "Same here. Wanna come walk around with me?” You ask, and Mattheo nods, albeit a bit confused as to why you’d want to wander around in such cold weather aimlessly.

You reach into your robe pocket, producing a neatly rolled joint with a cheeky wag of your eyebrows. A grin spreads across Mattheo's face as he looks at you, and he raises a brow in mock disappointment.

“Am I seeing correctly, or has the academic prodigy of Hogwarts just suggested we use our valuable study time to get high?”Mattheo taunts, and you scoff, getting up.

“Piss off, Riddle. Are you coming or not?” You retort, glancing back at him.

He looks up at you, and his gaze lingers far too long on the way your eyes light up, your mouth forming a gentle curve as you smile at him and-

Oh god, Mattheo never really stood a chance, did he?

He nods, getting up as he grabs his robe and follows you. You both meander aimlessly through the empty corridors of Hogwarts, poking fun at the unfortunate students who still had lessons. As you walk past a classroom you catch a glimpse of Theodore, chin resting atop his palm as he sleepily gazes at the board. You snicker, nudging Mattheo as you both hide at the side of the doorway, peering into the class. Mattheo wraps an arm around your waist, moving you behind him and you ignore the way you reel at his touch, dazed for a second.

It doesn’t last long, however, for you're drawn out of your short-lived crisis when you spot Mattheo pulling his wand out from his pocket, discreetly pointing it in Theodore’s direction. It was rather astounding seeing how no other students in the class noticed you, but Professor Binn had a rather uncanny knack for getting people to fall into a zombie-like state of fatigue whenever they were in his class. You were convinced it had to be some sort of superpower.

With a short flick of his wand, Theodore's eyes widened as he yelped, hand shooting up to clasp over his upper arm.

As Theodore's yelp echoes through the classroom, everyone snaps out of their daze, their attention immediately drawn to the source of the disturbance. Theodore grimaces, sheepishly looking down as he tries to play it off. Unable to contain your laughter anymore, you snort, and the sound has everyone turning to look outside the classroom.

Mattheo grabs your hand, pulling you along as the two of you run down the corridor, laughter bubbling up from deep within you.

As you round a corner, out of sight from the classroom, you finally come to a stop, breathless from both the running and the laughter. Mattheo leans against the wall, trying to catch his breath as he looks at you with sparkling eyes.

It was amazing how he had gone from being so irate to so…. Carefree. He felt alive with you, like he could forget about the countless burdens that weighed down on him day in and day out.

“That was bloody brilliant,” You wheeze, clutching your ribs as you laugh. Mattheo grins, panting as he nods.

“Theodore’s hilarious. Can’t wait to hear him complain about that later on,” He muses and you snort, straightening up. You jerk your head to the side, motioning for him to join you as you slip out of the castle onto the school grounds. You leisurely walk down the fields, heading towards the Black Lake.

You stop at a large cluster of rocks near the surface of the water, plopping down on the slightly damp grass. Mattheo joins you, long legs stretched out in front of him as you fish around your pocket. His arm presses against yours and you’re immediately warmed by the heat coming off his body, trying to ignore the intoxicating aroma of his cologne filling your senses.

You hit Mattheo's thigh with your hand, nudging him to get the lighter as you place the blunt between your lips. He obliges, cupping his hand around the flame as you lean down to light the tip, taking a few drags. You pass it over to Mattheo, tilting your head back as you exhale with a sigh. Mattheo mimics your actions, letting out a low groan as he passes the blunt back to you.

“Shit, this is fucking good.” He murmurs, eyes flickering over to you as you take another drag.

You speak, blunt dangling between those perfect lips of yours that Mattheo can’t seem to tear his eyes off of.

“Should be,” You muse, handing it over to Matteho as he takes another long drag. “I sucked dick for it.” You comment offhandedly and Mattheo splutters, coughing as he smacks his fist against his chest, looking over at you in disbelief. You look at him with a lazy grin, a hint of amusement in your eyes.

“Relax, of course I didn’t. But with the price it came at I may as well have.” You murmur, shaking your head.

“So ladylike” He teases and you roll your eyes for what must be the umpteenth time, slapping his thigh as you snatch the blunt back.

You remain silent for a while, and it's oddly comforting. Just you and Mattheo, passing the blunt back and forth between one another as you overlook the black lake. The setting sun is reflected in the ripple of the water, golden rays dancing along the small waves that give the illusion of the lake being made of pure gold.

Mattheo leans back on his elbows, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the crisp air. You're reclined beside him, the gentle lapping of the water providing a soothing backdrop to your conversation.

"So, Riddle, what's been bothering you lately?" you ask casually, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you.

Mattheo hesitates for a moment, his gaze fixed on the horizon as he considers his response. He's never been one to open up easily, but there's something about the softness in your voice that makes him want to confide in you.

"Just...everything, I guess," he admits finally, his tone uncharacteristically vulnerable. "I feel like I'm constantly on edge, and I'm not sure why.”

Your gaze remains on the lake, a pensive expression on your face as you hum.

“I get it. I suppose for all their goodwill it's a bit hard for the boys to understand that.” You murmur and Mattheo chuckles, looking down at the long strands of grass he was fiddling with.

“Tell me about it”

You remain silent for a second longer, before turning to face Mattheo. He looks up at you and feels as though he's pinned down under your gaze. It’s as though you were dissecting his very being, staring at him with a calculating look before you speak once again, your voice low and soft.

“You don’t always have to be a hardhead. You don’t need to dismiss how you’re feeling. We aren’t meant to have this figured out yet. We’re still young, with so much to learn. What’s the point of life if we know it all now?”

Mattheo listens to your words, feeling as though you've peered straight into his soul and laid bare all his insecurities. There's a wisdom in your words that resonates deeply with him. It's as though you possess a wisdom beyond your years, a rare insight that he finds both intimidating and captivating.

"Thank you," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

That god-forsaken smile appears on your face again, and you look over at Mattheo.

“Don’t. Someone has to tell you this, right? I love Nott to bits but I doubt he has anything but quidditch on his mind.” You joke, and Mattheo laughs.

You seamlessly lighten the mood, and Mattheo is eternally grateful for that. Really, he’s grateful for you. He can't think of the last time he's laughed so much. Or felt so free. Perhaps it was the weed, that had lowered his inhibitions and relieved him of his stresses.

But no, it was a drug far worse than that. He had just gotten a taste of it and he knew he would be hooked on it. It came in the form of you, and gods was it dangerous.

There's a heavy silence between the two of you, broken by the sound of rustling as Mattheo sits up abruptly, a grin spreading across his face.

"Hey, wanna go closer to the edge of the lake? I think I saw something cool over there," he suggests, his tone playful as he nudges you with his elbow.

"What, are you trying to pull some sort of prank on me, Riddle?" You ask, your tone sceptical as you raise an eyebrow.

Mattheo feigns innocence, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Who, me? Never," he replies with a smirk, his eyes dancing with mischief.

Despite your reservations, you can't help but be intrigued by Mattheo's suggestion, and with a shrug, you agree to accompany him to the water's edge.

You walk a few steps to the surface of the black lake, peering down at your own reflection for a second. You turn to Mattheo, caught off guard when he gives you a playful shove.

You yelp, reaching out instinctively to grab onto Mattheo as you lose your balance. Instead of regaining your footing, you find yourself slipping on the dampened grass near the edge of the lake and falling backwards into the water with Mattheo.

The icy cold water seems to seep into your body, eradicating any hint of warmth. You resurface with a gasp, brushing your wet hair away from your face as you tread water, your robe floating around you in the water.

Mattheo resurfaces moments after you, his curly brown hair now plastered against his forehead, droplets of water glistening in the fading light. He blinks the water from his eyes and looks at you with a playful grin.

“Why did you do that!” He gasps, though his tone is lighthearted and playful.

You roll your eyes, splashing him in retaliation. “You practically threw me in there! I just needed to find my footing!” You retort, indignified.

Mattheo chuckles, the sound echoing across the stillness of the lake. “Fair point.” He concedes.

Not a second later, however, he splashes you with water, somehow drenching you even further.

“Mattheo!” You gasp, sending a wave of water back at him. The two of you playfully fight in the water, and you laugh, head tilted back. It's a scene straight out of a childhood fantasy, the cares and worries of the world melting away beneath the warm glow of the setting sun.

Mattheo pauses, and his heart pounds against his sternum as he hears your laugh. It’s loud and it's unabashed, and it's the most perfect thing ever. You smile, and he feels as though he can't breathe, you had to have stolen his breath.

The golden rays of the sun illuminate your skin, catching in the droplets of water that cling to the wet tendrils of your hair. You looked like an image out of a Renaissance painting, and Mattheo is sure the sun must hide itself in shame, for on its brightest day it couldn’t compete with your radiance.

He takes in the way the fading sunlight casts a warm glow on your features, highlighting the curve of your cheekbones and the sparkle in your eyes. He’s sure the image must be etched into his mind, permanently engraved. He knows when he closes his eyes, all he will see is the image of you, and he doesn’t mind it one bit.

In fact, he welcomes it.

In your presence, he feels alive in a way he never has before. He will wake up tomorrow and face all the trials and tribulations the universe has to throw at him. For now, however, the sun is shining. The water is cold, but you make him feel warmer. The gentle sound of water sloshing about fills the silence, the horizon is beautiful.

Everything was alright.

@mildlyuninformative @chgrch @gillyweeds @anti-hero03 @schaebickel @lillywildly @multifandom-worlds

#slytherin #slytherin boys #tom riddle #harry potter #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys fic #theodore nott #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle x reader comfort #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle fluff

[yenqa]

angel

synopsis — sunghoon can’t seem to figure out if you’re human or an angel.

warnings — sunghoon is a lil tipsy but sobers up quickly (also idk how tipsy people act so sorry), mentions of drinking, reader is called pretty and has a purse

pairing — sunghoon x (implied) fem!reader

wordcount — 1197

a/n — happy late bday sunghoon! hope he had the best birthday ever

inspired by the song “angel” by keshi! also not proofread sorry

Sunghoon wasn’t having the greatest birthday of all time. After 21 years of his life he decides he likes this one the least.

It’s weird, he was supposed to be drunk and having fun at Jake’s apartment until the clock hit ungodly hours of the day, but instead it’s 9pm, and he’s more tipsy than he would like to be at a random bench in a park.

It’s not like he was kicked out or anything, but Jake’s apartment had become too stuffy for him and the smell of alcohol overwhelmed him and they had invited way too many people for his liking, so he decided it was best to go on a walk alone. He had no idea how or why he was now sitting on the bench.

Sunghoon has always been a people watcher, he enjoyed seeing others smile over news he had no idea about, or watching someone quickly walk to their destination, creating make-believe stories of where they’re going and why they’re going so fast.

There’s not many people around—scratch that, Sunghoon can’t spot anyone, but his vision is too disoriented to be trusted.

That’s when his eye catches you, strolling down the stone pathway—Wait were those angel wings?

His eyes squint towards you, unable to differentiate if you were wearing a scarf or were an actual angel from heaven, but he saw the grin on your face and figured you could easily pass for one.

You happily plop down on the other side of the bench, eyes scanning the scenery around you.

This immediately sobers him up, and he fixes his posture. Glancing over to him, you give him a smile, asking “What are you doing here so late at night?”

He’s unable to comprehend that you’re talking to him, as if the alcohol had come rushing back to his head and made him unable to think or even say anything to pretty people like you.

He finally finds his voice, replying, “It’s my birthday, and I’ve been out with my friends all day, but I needed some space for a little.”

Gasping at the mention of his birthday, you rummage through your purse, also saying “Why didn’t you say so! I don’t have a gift for you.”

He chuckled, shaking his hands, “You don’t have to give me a gift, we don’t even know each other's name yet, angel girl.” Looking up, you can feel warmth fill your cheeks at the name, quickly snapping out of it to search for something you can do.

“My name’s Y/n, what’s your name, birthday boy?”

Letting out an Ah-hah! You showcase a small lighter proudly in your hands, he mumbles your name to himself a couple of times, forcing it to go to his sober mind so he remembers everything.

You push the lighter, letting a flame fill the metal part, scooting next to him, you gesture for him to blow the fire out.

He smiles, blowing it out in one go, you clap your hands singing the words happy birthday over and over again. Maybe this birthday isn’t so bad.

“Sunghoon.”

“What?” You tilt your head slightly.

“My name, it’s Sunghoon.”

Nodding, you place the match carefully into your bag, “Well, Sunghoon, how does it feel to be—wait how old are you?”

You silently pray that you aren’t talking to anyone over the age of 24, crossing your fingers in your pocket and anxiously wait for his reply.

“I’m 21 today, got my first sip of alcohol!” He jokes.

Mentally letting out a sigh of relief, you make sure he isn’t left curious, “I’m 20! But anyways—how does it feel to be officially 21?”

He takes a breath, unsure where to start.

The truth is he’s terrified of growing old, having more responsibilities than he could ever imagine. Every year he’s inching closer to a time where he’s supposed to be successful, but all he feels is that he’s failed to do anything.

“Can I say something kind of personal?” Sunghoon decides it’s much better to be safe than sorry.

You nod, a soft smile grows on your face, “Tell me anything! I’m here to listen.”

“I feel kind of scared? I don’t think I’m ready for those kinds of responsibilities.”

Feeling bold, you gently take one of his hands, cupping it with your hands. His cold hands contrasts your warms ones, but you don’t mind.

“I think you’re underestimating yourself, Sunghoon. As you grow older—yes you’ll have more responsibilities but it’ll join your routine, then when you find that you have lots of responsibilities you’ll be so used to it that you won’t even notice a thing!”

He nods, taking in your advice word by word, “I guess I never really thought of it that way, thank you, I’ll keep that in mind.”

You hum in reply, and a wave of silence washes over you two.

Turning your face up, you relish at the sight of the sky. Though the city won’t ever let the stars shine, you can still admire the moon, glimmering in the dark sky.

It's almost a full moon, and you swear you’ve never seen a sight prettier.

“The moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” You ask.

Sunghoon’s eyes widen slightly, but you don’t look over at him. He’s not sure that you understand the true meaning of it, considering you just met. So he brushed it off, agreeing with your question.

Though it’s hard to focus on the moon when there's a person right next to him, emulating a warm aura that he can’t help but mistake for something mystical.

You two sit in silence, both admiring the surreal sight ahead of you.

You finally look back at him, warmth filling your cheeks when you catch that he wasn’t even facing the moon the whole time. Looking away, he raises a hand to cover his face, you giggle, looking away just as flustered as him.

A sound of your cell phone rings through your ears, you begrudgingly pick it up, muttering an apology to him before answering the call. He doesn’t eavesdrop but he can tell it’s something important.

He’s proven right when you put the phone down, a frown on your face when you explain, “I gotta go—I’m so sorry! My sister needs urgent help with something, but have an amazing birthday Sunghoon.” You wave goodbye standing up and taking a few steps away.

He grabs your arm before you can go, turning you around so you’ll face him.

“Will I ever see you again?”

You chuckle, opening your bag to pull out a pen and an old napkin. Writing your number, you hand the napkin to him, leaving with the same grin that you had when he first spotted you.

He watches as you walk away, calling back your—what he assumes—sister to address the situation. He slouches back down when you’re out of view, checking the time he’s realized he’s been out for too long, so he races back to Jake’s house.

Walking back in he spots Jake, the boy hastily walks over to him, asking “Bro—where were you? We were looking for you.”

Sunghoon lets out five words, “I just met an angel.”

perm taglist — @jwnghyuns @ja4hyvn @trsrina @redm4ri-deactivated20231209 @badmuni @yeokii @enhastolemyheart @softpia @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @boyfhee @hanniluvi @teddywonss

yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.

#k-films #k-labels #enhablr #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon fics #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon texts #sunghoon fic #sunghoon fanfiction #sunghoon angst #sunghoon fanfic #park sunghoon angst #sunghoon au #enhypen x reader #enhypen au #enhypen x engene #enhypen x yn #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen fanfic #enhypen reactions #enhypen drabbles #enhypen imagines #enhypen social media au #enhypen fake texts #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen headcanons

[the-traveling-poet]

it’s me again, and I’ve found an idea! Okay so, I’d like to request a Levi x lieutenant reader where the reader is sick but she is as stubborn as a mule and every time someone points that out she just brush it off some way, or elude the questions, until she feels so sick she can barely stand, and ask Levi for help? Thank you Lynn! 🤎🤎

Head-Cold

══════════════════════

What started off as a slight cough and a runny nose, now consumed your every waking moment in the form of a head-cold. The worse you get, the more your friends and comrades worry for your health.

But you’re fine, right?

Your stubbornness to be seen by a medic doesn’t go unnoticed by your Captain, who takes matters into his own hands.

══════════════════════

Pairing: Levi x Lieutenant!Sick!Reader

Warnings: Language, sick reader, mention of vomit

SFW, fluff, xReader

══════════════════════

A/N: Love this idea! Seriously tho the “I don’t need help I’m fine” trope that turns into the “Crush has to take care of you” trope? UNDEFEATED.

Also this request is ironic cause I’m coming down with a head cold myself xD

As always, if this doesn’t meet your expectations, I’ll rewrite whatever you prefer!

Enjoy~🤎

══════════════════════

The moment you woke up feeling nauseous, you knew today was gonna be a great day.

Rolling out of your bed with a stuffy groan, you shuffled over to your private bathroom and took a look at yourself in the mirror. Crusty eyes looked back at you from your reflection, and a red nose drew attention to the color in your face, making you look fevered. Placing a hand on your forehead, you could nearly confirm this was the case.

Mumbling incoherently to yourself, you tried your best to clean yourself up before you had to make an appearance for the day. Before leaving your dorm room, you’d gone through at least ten tissues and wiped your face with a damp wash cloth nearly just as many times. With your hair pulled up neatly away from your face and your clothes adjusted properly on your frame, you put on your best ‘I’m fine’ face and strode out into the hall.

Steadying yourself on your feet, you slowly made your way down to breakfast with the others in your regiment, gliding your hand along the wall to keep your ever wobbling balance.

Shit…Light headed, dizzy, nauseous, runny nose…what’s next, a headache?

You entered the hall and found your way to the kitchens to grab a bowl of what appeared to be soup.

Thank god, maybe this’ll help my poor throat…

You scanned the room over with tired eyes and spotted your fellow superiors sat around their usual table. Stifling a yawn, you trudged over and plopped down near Hange and Nanaba.

“Lieutenant Y/N,” Commander Erwin greeted you formally from across the table.

“Mornin’ C’mander,” you replied back in a stuffy tone, rubbing slightly at your nose.

The conversation happening around you paused, but you were too busy suffering to notice until a hand placed itself on your shoulder. Looking over, you spotted Hange giving you a confused look.

“Y/N, dear…Is everything alright?” they asked.

“Yeah, why?” you asked with a raised brow.

“Y/N, you look sick. Are you sure you’re alright?” Nanaba pestered from your other side.

“Sick? Ehh…maybe. Nothin’ I cant handle doe.” You sniffled, your throat feeling worse from trying to talk in a volume they’d be able to hear you in.

“Maybe you should go to the infirmary…You shouldn’t attend to duties today if you’re ill. You’ll just make yourself worse and possibly spread it to someone else!” Hange’s assistant, Moblit, spoke up from the other side of the scientist.

“Nah, I’ve had a lot worse, so therefor I can’t complain. This won’t kill me.” you argued stubbornly, taking a sip of your soup to hopefully help with the aching pain there.

“You’re sick. I smell it on you.”

You looked up to see Mike joining your table, a bowl of soup in his big hands as he sat down across from Nanaba.

“I’ll be fiiiiiine,” you sniffled, ignoring their concern. You’ve dealt with many hardships in life, both physical and mental. A little head cold wouldn’t be your downfall.

Finally giving into your stubbornness, they dropped your case and resumed their previous conversations. You attempted to follow suit as you ate, but a sudden wave of nausea made you set your spoon back down with a nearly inaudible groan. Deciding you couldn’t stomach anymore, you went to stand on shaky legs and discard your bowl.

Normally you’d let one of the others have what you couldn’t eat, but if Mike was right (and his nose always was) about you being sick, you didn’t want to risk infecting anyone else. Ever you were the considerate one, despite your dismissal of your own issues.

Before you could leave the hall, you found Levi walking in with an empty cup in his hand. After refilling it, he sat near Erwin at your table. He caught your gaze, and you were quick to look away shyly.

“You look like shit,” he greeted.

“Mornin’ Levi,” you greeted back, now trying to hold in a sneeze. As Hange eagerly filled him in on your situation, you rolled your eyes and made to leave the mess hall.

Training wasn’t going to be fun…

══════════════════════

Only twenty minutes in, and you were sweating like a pig. In order to catch your breath, you’d had to resort to breathing through your mouth since your nose was completely plugged up and runny.

Great. Just great.

Your legs shook and your head spun as you got off the ground for the nth time. Taking several shallow breaths, you closed your eyes for a moment and silently prayed to anything that might be listening that the torture would end soon.

“Oi, Lieutenant.”

You snapped your eyes open with a muffled ‘huh?’ and came face to face with the gaze of a glaring Captain Levi. He was running the training course today.

He stood several feet away from you, not wanting to come any closer after all Hange had told him.

“You shouldn’t be out here training, you’ll make yourself worse. Go to the infirmary,” he commanded.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you tried to reassure him breathlessly, wiping at your brow and nose.

He sighed, punching the bridge of his nose. “The one time I go easy on a brat and they refuse,” he mumbled to himself.

“That’s an order, L/N. Go.”

“You can’t orber me roun’. I’m a Lieutenan’.” Your stuffy voice was getting worse, paired with the scratching of your throat.

Another frustrated sigh left the Captain, but he really wasn’t in the mood to argue.

“Fine, have it your way. I was just trying to help, but if you want to make yourself worse, be my guest.”

As he started to walk off, you suddenly gasped and held at your mouth.

“Oh gob oh shid,” you mumbled, catching Levi’s attention. He turned back around, only to see you taking off in the opposite direction; a hand over your mouth and stomach.

He grimaced to himself, knowing immediately what was going on.

“Damn brat…”

Not wanting to vomit in front of everyone, you had raced back into HQ, desperately trying to hold down what little breakfast you’d managed to eat earlier. Throwing your dorm room open, you raced to the bathroom and barely made it to your personal bathroom before it all came back up.

You clutched the bowl of your toilet with shaky hands and coughed, grimacing as your throat burned. After brushing your teeth and cleaning up the bathroom, and yourself with a quick shower, you decided to finally take your friend’s advice.

Not to go to the infirmary, but instead to rest. Locked away in your room, you ignored the knocks and muffled voices at your door as you curled up under the blankets on your bed.

It may have been warm outside, but you were freezing. Despite the sweat that clung to your body, you attempted to rest.

══════════════════════

What felt like an eternity later, the sound of your door being messed with woke you up out of a deep sleep. Rubbing at your sweaty brow, you groaned as you saw your locked door handle twist.

Your door opened slowly, and with blurry eyes you could make out a head of raven hair. Shuffling under the covers, you looked over your shoulder to see Levi approaching your bed.

“What are you doing?” you mumbled sleepily.

“You missed lunch. And dinner,” he stated quietly, and it was only then you noticed a tray of food in his hands.

“Oh…What time is it?” you yawned, trying your best to cover your mouth and sit up, but the dizziness came back in full force, making you groan and lay back down.

“A little after eight,” he responded, setting the tray down on your bedside table.

“I tried to check up on you earlier, but you must have really been out of it.”

“How did you even get in here this time?” you asked with a raised brow. “I locked the door.”

“I picked the lock,” he stated in a ‘you seriously have to ask?’ tone of voice.

Shooting him a look of disbelief, you shook your head and attempted to sit up again.

“Why are you even in here? I’m sick. You might get sick.” You pointed out, knowing how skittish he was about germs.

With a sigh, he sat on the edge of your bed. “I decided to swallow my pride and make sure you didn’t die in here. Firstly, that’s a lot of paper work for me. Secondly, someone has to help your stubborn ass. Might as well be me.”

“And why’s that?” You pushed for more information, a smile slowly making its way onto your face. Though his face was turned away from you, you could make out a very faint pink hue blooming over his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

“Why not me?” he mumbled.

“Awe, you do care,” you chuckled, voice a little raspy still from sleep and your scratchy throat.

“Shut it, brat. You’re stuffy, and it’s annoying to listen to you talk. The sooner you become less annoying to me, the better.” he grumbled, shooting you a pointed look over his shoulder that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Starting to understand, you couldn’t help but grin. Maybe he did care a little more than he was trying to let on…

“You wouldn’t have had to hear me talk like this if you hadn’t come in here,” you pointed out teasingly.

He didn’t have a retort for this, so instead he sighed in annoyance and picked up the forgotten tray of food.

“Eat your damn soup already. And take some meds for god’s sake. I grabbed a couple bottles on the way up here.”

Rolling your eyes, you took the tray from him, your fingers lightly brushing against his hands. He stiffened slightly at the contact, but made no comment. Instead, he quietly observed you taking a sip of the warm soup. He refused to tell you, but you could tell this wasn’t something that had been served for dinner. He had to have made this himself.

For you…

“Thanks, Levi. I guess I could maybe use the help.” You smiled at him, scooting a little closer to where he sat.

“Yeah no shit, now eat.” He didn’t move away from you. Instead, he discreetly moved a little closer.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad to ask for help from time to time, you supposed. Especially if being sick meant you got to spend some time with your favorite Captain…

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x y/n #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman #levi x reader #snk levi #levi headcannons #captain levi #aot levi #attack on titan levi #shingeki no kyoujin levi #levi x you #levi ackerman fluff #aot fluff #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #aot x y/n #snk fanfiction #aot x you #attack on titan #snk #aot #levi x sick reader #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyoujin

[evansbby]

I have this fantasy about poyt!steve being soft and babying reader in front of his friends. Like they’re hanging out watching a game or something but Steve’s mind is on reader; he’s teasing and saying shit like “you look so pretty Princess, do you like the dress Daddy picked out for you?” She’s like flustered af and can’t believe the words she’s hearing

“Aren’t you lucky to have a Daddy who buys you nice things?” Bucky joins in and she’s hiding her face in her hands while the guys laugh at her and coo at her mockingly ☺️

Oh, I can totally imagine Steve doing this when he’s in one of his rare “playful” moods, wanting to show his omega off to his friends and baby her at the same time! 😌😌😌

Warnings: dark, noncon, dubcon, bullying, daddy kink, Steve being mean, dumbification, babying, touching, groping

Steve: Come downstairs. Right now.

You stare at the text for quite a bit longer than necessary, until the screen blurs and the words dance. As if on cue, you hear a wave of raucous laughter coming from downstairs, and it makes your stomach churn and palms sweat. You hate going downstairs when there’s anyone other than Steve there.

Steve: ????

Steve: Come now.

Steve: Answer me.

Steve: Don’t make me come upstairs and get you.

Gulping at the four texts he’s sent in quick succession in the span of about three seconds, you quickly type out a response: Okay. Coming.

You sigh down at Steve Junior, who’s been watching you while you study. Giving the stuffie a quick cuddle, you can’t help but inhale sharply because he smells so much like Steve. Drawing back, you fix the little guy’s bow-tie, frowning at a piece of loose thread coming out.

“Your dad’s impatient, isn’t he?” You say softly, and Steve Junior’s coal black eyes stare knowingly back at you, as if he holds all the answers in his fluffy head but he wants you to figure them out yourself. Standing up, you glance towards the door, knowing you have about five seconds before Steve loses his patience.

More voices and laughter, and the churning in your stomach worsens. But after one last, almost sorrowful, glance at Steve Junior, you leave the room and patter downstairs softly, hoping that maybe you’ll turn invisible by the time you reach the landing.

Luckily, it’s just Sam and Bucky sat with Steve in the living room in front of the TV. Unluckily, Sam and Bucky seem to hate you, and are usually always mean. Not to mention the fact that Bucky can’t seem to stop staring at you – and you can’t seem to understand why.

Steve tears his gaze away from the football game playing on TV to look at you, patting his leg expectantly. Heat rises to your face but you take a seat on his lap without argument – you don’t need Steve being rude to you now, not when Sam and Bucky are already going to be.

“Took you long enough.” Your alpha huffs (although it’s barely been three minutes since he texted you). His big hand lands on your bare thigh, giving you a reprimanding slap that has you squirming even more because his friends are right there.

You bow your head, “I’m sorry.”

Steve licks his lips, “Mm, now look at you. Acting all submissive.” He kisses you sloppily, tongue licking the inside of your mouth as if he’s putting on a show. “Except it’s not an act, is it, omega? That’s just how you are. My submissive little baby.” He spares Sam and Bucky a glance, “Bet none of your girlfriends have been as submissive as her.”

Sam rolls his eyes and huffs, but Bucky doesn’t even answer, only continuing to stare at you unwaveringly, his light blue eyes leisurely travelling down to drink in your body.

Your eyes widen as Steve continues to coo at you, before you scrunch them shut because you can’t bare the idea of his friends watching. Steve begins to play with the hem of your dress.

“You look so cute in your little pink dress, baby. You like the dress daddy bought for you?” He pinches your thigh when you don’t answer, and you let out a yelp before pressing your lips together.

The dress is pink and frilly, something Steve bought for you recently and has made you wear on quite a few occasions. And your heart can’t help but soar every time his eyes darken with lust when he sees you wearing it – you’re surprised he hasn’t ripped it with the number of times he’s fucked you while you’re wearing it.

“Y-Yes, I like it. Steve, please can we not do this here?” You beg him quietly when his fingers ghost against the fabric of your panties.

“Yes, Steve. Can you please not do this here?” Sam echoes, mimicking you in an exaggerated, high-pitched voice, “We’re trying to watch the game.”

“You’re just jealous that you never got to fuck anyone half as sexy as she is.” Steve answers simply, talking about you as if you’re not there. Obnoxiously, he props you up further in his lap, deliberately speaking louder.

“My little baby omega, driving daddy crazy with how sexy and cute you are.” Steve coos, ignoring the death glare Sam shoots his way, “What were you doing upstairs, huh? Cuddling with that stuffed animal of yours?”

You frown at how he refers to Steve Junior as “that stuffed animal.” You know he’s just acting in front of his friends, because in the privacy of your bedroom, he’s always called him Steve Junior. He’s the one who named him that to begin with!

“I was studying. Module three, international studies and global sustainable development. We have an exam on that next week.” You answer softly, immediately ducking your head when all three alphas burst out laughing.

“Probably took you three hours just to learn how to say that.” Sam snorts, tearing his eyes away from the football game, “Still can’t believe she takes that class, Steve. An omega…”

You’d gotten higher marks than all of them in the last assignment (you knew their grades because you’d helped the professor hand the papers back). Which is why your fists clench indignantly — but you’re too shy to say anything back.

Steve kisses you softly on the temple — softer than usual — before brushing your hair back, “She also makes the bed, cleans, does my laundry and cooks for me.” He chucks you under the chin and kisses you again, “Don’t worry omega, he’s just jealous because he doesn’t have anyone to do that shit for him.”

Confusion seeps through your mind. The omega inside you is chirping because Steve’s just comforted you — hasn’t he? But is that his mouth quirking upward as if he’s suppressing a laugh? Are you the butt of some joke between the three alphas?

You try and tug yourself off Steve’s lap, only for him to grab your arm immediately.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“You’re being mean.” You mumble softly, wanting Steve Junior.

“Aww, my sweet little baby omega, did I hurt your little feelings?” He kisses you noisily again, grabby hands lifting up the hem of your frilly dress to expose more of your thighs, which he squeezes, “You’re so cute when you’re upset, baby. So cute in your little pink dress.”

He’s babying you so much, and it’s doubly embarrassing because it’s like Steve doesn’t even care that Sam and Bucky are there. At least Sam’s gone back to the football game, pointedly increasing the volume. But Bucky hasn’t said a word, silently just staring at you.

“C-Could I please go back upstairs?” You ask timidly, not daring to slap Steve’s hands away as they begin to fondle and play with your body, his thumb brushing against your nipple through the fabric and his other hand squeezing your bare ass from underneath your skirt.

“Give me a kiss first.” Steve says, and you shyly peck his lips, trying to ignore the rush of butterflies in your tummy when your lips make contact with his.

“Now c-can I go?”

Steve snickers, “No.”

He repositions you on his lap and now you’re directly sat on top of his hard crotch, and you can’t believe it when he begins to rock you against him, practically dry humping you in front of his friends.

“Part of being a good omega is servicing your alpha when he needs you.” Steve says as he plays with the ribbons on your dress, “And right now, I need your cute little body against me while I watch the game.”

You whimper and yelp as he continues to grope and fondle you, his eyes now diverting back to the TV, but he keeps thrusting up into you with his hard crotch. You risk a glance at the other two alphas, immediately regretting it when you meet eyes with Bucky who licks his lips and shoots you a wink.

“Mm, my little baby.” Steve coos in your ear, “All the other omegas should take notes from you, you could teach all of them a thing or two about being submissive and respectful.” He bites your ear lobe suddenly, making you yelp and jump, “God, you’re so hot, you’re lucky I don’t lift you up and fuck you right here.”

You gasp, horrified at the thought.

“Mm, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Your little baby cunt warming daddy’s dick while he watches the game? That’s your job, anyways — to service me. It’s what you’re good for.” Another harsh slap to your bare thigh that has you whimpering, and you grab his forearm to try and keep him at bay. But you can feel him growing more excited against you, his dick poking up into your ass through his jeans.

“Come on, baby, they’re not even watching anymore.” Steve whispers in your ear, and you’re almost paralysed with embarrassment when you hear him unbuckle his belt, “Always wanted to fuck my baby girlfriend in front of my friends. Especially when you’re wearing this cute dress I bought for you.”

You whimper as Steve tugs your panties to one side, gripping his shoulder hard when you feel his tip against your folds. “Don’t worry, they’re watching the game.” He whispers against your ear once more. “You just focus on pleasing daddy, baby. That’s all your baby brain ever has to focus on.”

The end!

Who wants to bet Bucky watched the whole thing?? 😌😂😂😂😂 what do you guys think? Please let me know !!

#chris evans #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers #dark Steve rogers #x reader #steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #poyt ask #poyt drabble #sunflowerbunny2

[mysticballoonbouquet]

tips for ~discreet~ age regression 💖

hello friends! age regression/age dreaming can be a wonderful coping mechanism. sometimes it’s voluntary, and sometimes it’s not. but if you ever find yourself regressing or needing to regress to get away from a stressful situation but must be discreet about it for any reason, here are some tips ☺️

🦄 reusable water bottles. there are ones available that have sippy spouts, but if that’s too on-the-nose for your situation, there are lots of cute options! even just buying a standard metal reusable water bottle and putting waterproof stickers with your favorite characters (bluey, hello kitty, etc.) can help you feel small discreetly (and keep you hydrated, which is very important!).

🍼 small stuffie keychains. if you are unable to have or bring a stuffie with you, these are great for clipping on your bag/purse/backpack! they’re sold in lots of places (i got one at a craft store!) and their cuteness can help bring a smile to your face ☺️ since they’re keychains, i don’t think anyone would give it a second thought. and you can have a cute friend to bring on your adventures (or even just to class!)

🦄 make a folder for apps that make you feel small on your phone. I currently have a folder on my phone specifically for apps that make me feel tiny! since they’re kept in their own separate folder, you can really immerse yourself in your regression without worrying about distractions.

🍼 cute jewelry! jewelry can be worn by anyone of any gender! bracelets, necklaces, rings, etc., made of cute pastels, charms of your favorite character, or rainbows (or anything of any aesthetic that helps you feel small!) ! if someone asks why you’re wearing it, you can just say that you just thought it was a cute fashion statement! don’t be afraid to be yourself, friends ☺️

🦄 fidget toys (but fidget rings especially!) fidget toys are very commonplace now. but if you’re in a situation (school, for example) where you can’t bring in a toy, a fidget ring can work wonders! this one kinda ties back into the last point above, but fidget rings can be super soothing and super discreet since they look like standard jewelry!

🍼 make a playlist of songs that make you feel tiny! whether it be disney songs, fun instrumentals, or anything else you’d like, feel free to make a playlist of it and relax and feel small ☺️ you don’t have to share your playlist, you can make it private if you’d like! whatever helps you feel the most comfortable 💖

🦄 carry some of your favorite small snacks or candies (or even gum!) everybody needs to eat for energy and to stay healthy! i recommend, even to those who don’t regress, to carry a small snack with you if possible in case you get hungry! if you are unable to carry snacks, try your favorite gum flavor! as a bonus, if you are unable to have a paci, sucking on your favorite hard candies or lollipops can help too! (be sure to brush your teeth after eating candy though! cavities are never fun.)

🍼 cute toiletries! get some lotion of your favorite color or scent, for example! they also sell yummy smelling chapstick (I was at a cvs the other day and they had cotton candy chapstick!)!

the bottom line is to do whatever makes you happy! i personally love pink and pastel, but i know that’s not for everyone, and that’s okay! being a hidden age regressor can be hard, especially if it’s your main coping mechanism, but you are so incredibly strong, and you can get through anything life throws at you. i believe in you, and please continue to be your wonderful self!

#agere blog #sfw agere blog #agere #sfw agere #age regression #age regressor #age regressor blog #age regression blog

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

More ROTTMNT headcanons: cause I spent 6 hours cleaning my room and I’m still not done

The boys all wear makeup (cause I said so)

Donnie is amazing with eyeliner 

He can do those crazy intricate looks that take hours 

Which is why he hates putting his mask on

He’ll take it off any chance he gets so his brothers can witness his art

Leo wears shiny eyeshadow and owns more highlight than any person could ever need 

He has every single color in the damn rainbow it’s honestly impressive 

And both the twins use concealer to hide the dark circles under their eyes 

Mikey does face paint more than anything (think meicrosoft on Instagram)

It’s honestly crazy impressive and he comes up with new ideas every single day

Raph does pretty simple makeup looks

He’s given up on learning any kind of precisions when it comes to makeup 

But he makes up for it by being his brother's Guinea pig 

At first, they thought Splinter would be mad at them for wearing makeup 

But the only thing he was mad at is how much they butchered it in the beginning 

He’s learned a lot from his makeup artists and he refuses to let his sons spit on their names by blending blush incorrectly (I mean come on Mikey was using a tissue when he found him for god's sake)

Because I have to clean my room and I was thinking about the boys I was thinking: how often would they clean their room

Raph: He cleans a little bit every single day 

There is a place for everything and everything is in its place 

The only time his room has gotten dirty is when he’s too injured to move 

Leo: Never 

He doesn’t clean his room until it gets disgusting 

He’s got old cups, snacks, and wrappers in his room

And when he finally gets the courage to clean his room someone says some shit like “your room is filthy” and then he loses all motivation 

Donnie: He makes a robot to clean his room for him

He’ll pick up small things here or there but if the mess is massive he’ll force one of his robots to clean it for him 

Mikey: He cleans occasionally (once a month)

He wants to be like Raph when it comes to cleanliness but he’s more like Leo

The only reason why he cleans his room is cause he can’t think when his room gets messy

I was also thinking about how they would laugh 

Raph: He has a belly laugh

It's deep and loud and he throws his full body into it (think Chris Evans) 

Leo: He cackles 

It doesn’t matter how funny the joke was he’ll cackle 

It’s so loud that it hurts some people’s ears and they’ve asked him to keep it down multiple times 

(It hurts his feeling a little bit but he never admits it)

Donnie: His laughs are quite 

More of a chuckle if anything 

It’s kind of awkward and clunky and if he thinks something is really funny he’ll snort 

Mikey: He has a very breathy laugh 

He wheezes and sometimes he sounds like a car that refuses to start 

Now time for me to force my “Asian culture” onto you

Splinter uses Vicks as a cure-all

Any time the boys had a cough or a stuffy nose Sprinter would slather them in that shit (and the crazy thing is it works)

Donnie and Raph hate the smell cause they associate it with being sick 

And Mikey and Leo love it cause they associate it with childhood 

Every single pot and pan they own in is their oven 

Donnie had to build a new one just to fit them all 

And you might be asking “Roo can’t they just put them in the cupboards” 

And to that I say “awe my silly non-Asian friend… no they can’t cause that would be impractical”

They all do the Asian squat 

Raph can’t go that far down but they still call it the Asian squat 

Raph does it when he’s cleaning 

Leo does with when he’s tired of standing

Donnie does it when he’s trying to concentrate (Leo always says he looks like he's taking a shit (and he’s not wrong)

And Mikey does it when he’s painting 

They all fight to pay the bill 

Even when they don’t have that much money on them

It’s a full-out brawl 

Hueso ushers customers out of the restaurant when he sees the boys are done eating 

Cause he knows that someone will get hurt

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #Rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #save rottmnt #rottmnt headcanons #rottmnt leo #rottmnt raph #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt splinter #i love projecting onto the disaster twins #it's cheaper than therapy

[stranger-fanfiction-n-things]

CHAPTER 4: THE BODY

This is an Original Character fanfiction. All Stranger Things characters and content are owned by Netflix and The Duffer Brothers.

a/n: Enjoy!

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1188

Masterlist

PART I || PART II || PART III

ROANE FUNERAL HOME 

The funeral home smells like fresh flowers, wood and astringent cleaning product. It is impeccably clean yet stuffy like an old age home. The lights are dimly lit and the walls are painted in muted tones. A shiver runs down my back thinking about dead bodies as Nancy and I walk down the hall to the main room. The thick funky coloured carpet muffles our loud thumping. Nancy and I approach the opening and find Jonathan, right where Joyce said he would be, choosing caskets for Will. 

Jonathan looks at us, eyes slightly wide. I’m immediately uncomfortable for overstepping boundaries. Nancy and I were so determined to find out about Barb that we didn’t take in that Will’s body was found last night. Mom literally told me an hour ago that the funeral was tomorrow. I touch Nancy’s arm. 

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” I whisper, smiling kindly at the funeral director. 

“A little…” Nancy agrees, lingering by the entryway. “But we have to try.” I open my mouth to protest against it but Jonathan is walking over to us with his hands stuffed in his pockets. 

I haven’t seen Jonathan since yesterday in the parking lot and we didn’t necessarily end on good terms. I am honestly still a little miffed by the photos, but the photos are why Nancy and I are here. I shift behind Nancy, playing with the ends of my hair. Nancy and Jonathan haven’t had a conversation about the photos and the admission makes me uncomfortable. The photos were extremely intimate and private; to think Nicole, Steve, Carol and Tommy H were all privy to them, makes me annoyed all over again. 

“Your mom…” Nancy starts, looking as uncomfortable as I feel. “She said you’d be here. I just…” Nancy looks at me for help. 

“Can we talk for a second?” I ask, sheepishly. 

I am surprised Jonathan agrees to talk to us and we all walk to the hallway and sit on the bench against the wall. Nancy hands Jonathan the photo and he inspects it closely. I point out the figure behind Barb and he nods his head. 

“Does it look like anything to you?” 

“It looks like it could be some kind of perspective distortion, but I wasn’t using the wide angle.” The irony of the situation is almost comical. I tuck a loose curl behind my ear, chewing on my bottom lip. Jonathan shifts uncomfortably on the bench. “I don’t know. It’s weird.” He gives me back the photo. 

“And you’re sure you didn’t see anyone else out there?” Nancy presses. 

Jonathan looks pensive, though I can tell he’s uncomfortable with having to relieve a moment of poor judgement. He sighs shaking his head “No, and she was there one second and then she was gone. I figured she bolted.” 

“The cops think she ran away. But they don’t know Barb.” 

The way the cops were treating this investigation…they weren’t taking it seriously. Brushing it under the rug or throwing it away like yesterday’s paper. Questioning me as if I were crazy for what I knew I saw. What I can’t get over is the disappearance of Barb’s car. It doesn’t just vanish into thin air. This whole situation is deeply unsettling and Barb deserves better.  The silence suddenly became awkward. I was sitting here with Jonathan at a funeral home. Disturbed him as he was picking a casket for his brother whose body was found last night in the Quarry, to talk to him about my missing best friend. As if reading each other’s minds, Nancy and I both stand up.  

“I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have come here, today of all days.” Nancy apologizes, reaching for me. I walk to her, taking her hand in mine, squeezing it tight. 

“What did he look like?” 

Nancy and I look at each other before looking at Jonathan. 

“This man you saw in the woods,” Jonathan urged. “What did it look like?” 

Something told me he knew what we were talking about. But how? 

“I don’t know…” Nancy stammers, a line appears between her brows. “It was like he—” 

“Didn’t have a face?” Jonathan finishes. 

A chill froze me to the spot. “How did you know?” 

HAWKINS HIGH 

I’ve never been in the darkroom at school before. I observe the painted black walls and the equipment propped against it along with the stacks of photography paper. I wrinkle my nose, at the strong smells of chemicals wafting in the air. I squint under the red-light watching Jonathan put a slide under this large microscope-like machine. He looks through the magnifier, fiddling with a knob above his head. I lean against the counter, fascinated by all the equipment in here and what it all does. 

“Did your mom say anything else? Like where it might have gone to or…” 

“No, just that it came out of the wall.” 

The machine dings and Jonathan turns off the switch before grabbing a piece of photography paper. Nancy and I crowd around him as he puts the paper in a tub of what looks like water but smells faintly of gasoline. 

“How long does this take?” Nancy mumbles. 

“Not long.” Jonathan answers, shifting the tub back and forth until the paper is fully saturated. 

“Have you been doing this a while?” 

“What?” 

“Photography.” 

Jonathan shrugs. “Yeah. I guess I’d rather observe people than you know…” 

“Talk to them.” Nancy says with a small smile. 

Even though our brothers are all best friends, this is the first time Nancy, Jonathan, and I are together. Growing up we weren’t very close, Jonathan often lingered in the sidelines. He’s always been quiet and a little shy. As we got older, we grew farther apart, Nancy and I growing close with Barb and Jonathan seeing the world through a camera lens. 

“I know. It’s weird.” 

“No, it’s not,” I assure.

“No, it is. It’s just that people don’t always say what they’re thinking. But you capture the right moment, it says more.” 

“What was I saying?” Nancy asks.

“What?” 

"When you took my picture.” 

Suddenly, the black walls become more interesting. I shift uncomfortably on my feet. The elephant in the room was bound to be talked about. I didn’t think it would be now, in a pungent, red lit darkroom at school, but nonetheless the conversation needed to be had. 

“I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry. It’s just—” 

“That’s it!” I exclaim, looking at the photo. “That’s what we saw!” The photo develops clear showing some weird looking animal? Thing? Whatever it is, it’s tall and grotesque looking and doesn’t have a face.  

“My mom,” Jonathan shakes his head in disbelief. “I thought she was crazy cause she said that’s not Will’s body. That he’s alive.” 

“And if he’s alive.” 

“Then Barbara.” 

Nancy and I look at each other. Barb’s alive. She has to be. We can save her and Will from this thing and the cops won’t think we’re crazy. 

“Okay so what do we do now?” I ask, licking my lips in anticipation. “We have evidence but no proof.”  

CHAPTER 5: THE FLEA AND THE ACROBAT

#stranger things rewrite #black fem reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #dianasinclair #eddie munson x black!reader #steve harrington x black!reader #eddie munson x female reader #sinclair!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader

[adrift-in-thyme]

Congrats on your milestone! I just started following you ☺️ I would like to request an Edwin short story - maybe a picnic around the time Edwin had to visit Win to repair his damaged arm before the final showdown, or whatever inspires you.

Thank you @mistresslrigtar ! And tysm for both the follow and the prompt! <33 This is my first time writing these two so fingers crossed that I did ok!

————————

It is a treacherously beautiful day.

Ed sets down the basket in his hands and flops beside it. The sky spread out above him is robin’s egg blue. Soft grayish white clouds bob lazily upon it. The breeze is soft, gentle. It smells of spring rain and fresh grass.

Ed inhales the scent, letting his eyes slip closed for a moment.

Here beneath the warm sun, he can almost forget what is on its way.

Promised Day. A day of death.

The very thought makes his stomach turn. Even with all the skills and manpower in the world this could go horribly wrong. And they definitely do not have either of those.

Their team is small and the opposition is monstrous.

…literally, Ed thinks with a dry chuckle. Against beings like Pride and Wrath the chances of their failure are far, far higher than that of their success.

And the costs are so high. He opens his eyes just slightly, staring through the slits at the automail hand he holds up to the sky. If he and Al don’t manage this, they will lose everything.

Their friends, their family, their home, their chance at getting their bodies back and their very motivation to do so.

He – Ed swallows against the lump in his throat – he will lose her.

“Ed!”

As if she has heard his thoughts from afar, Winry’s voice carries across the lawn.

“You forgot the blanket!”

“What?” Ed shoves himself up onto his forearms, frowning. “Why do we – oof!”

The object in question comes careening off of the porch and comes down upon him. For a moment the world is narrowed to gray fabric and a nose-clogging musty scent. Then, he manages to tackle the hefty thing to the ground.

Winry has walked down the stairs by that point and is standing in front of him when he scowls up into the sun. He pointedly ignores how her hair glows in its golden rays.

“Did you have to chuck it at my head?!”

“You can’t have a proper picnic without something to sit on.”

She grabs the blanket out of his hands. With a hearty shake, she sends it floating down to the ground.

“Did you get the sandwiches?”

Grumbling under his breath, Ed reaches for the basket.

“Yeah, yeah I got them.”

Now that he thinks about it, maybe suggesting a picnic was not the best idea. He’d believed it would be a great way to get out of the dark, stuffy house and get to spend some time with his best friend soak up some sunshine before it all goes down. And it still is, probably. Or it would be if Winry wasn’t being so nagging.

She takes the food he hands her and sets it out on the blanket. Then, she pats the spot beside her.

“Why’re you sitting over there in the grass? Come sit with me!”

Sighing, he drags himself up off of the ground and shuffles the two inches it takes to reach the blanket. It’s sizable enough for two people to sit on it, but only if they are seated closely. And when Ed sits down, he finds his shoulder brushing up against Winry’s.

Instantly, his cheeks heat. He can feel her warmth through the sleeve of his shirt. The smell of her wafts to his nostrils — automail grease and the hearty bar soap Granny always buys.

It is a familiar scent that makes something twist painfully inside of him. A knot he didn’t fully register being there wound tighter, begging to be undone.

She smells like comfort and safety. She smells like home.

“Ed? Are you okay?”

Winry is looking at him, her face so close to his that if he wanted to he could lean forward just a bit and…Ed’s cheeks grow even hotter. He must be as red as his coat by now.

“What?” His voice cracks at the end, squeaking slightly. He shakes his head, clears his throat. “Yeah, I’m fine. Definitely fine.”

Desperate to distract himself, he grabs his sandwich and takes a bite. It works about as effectively as reciting the periodic table.

“You’re thinking about the Promised Day, aren’t you?”

Ed pauses mid-chew, turning to Winry. She is gazing down at her own sandwich, long strands of golden blonde hair hiding her face. But the tension in her shoulders tells him all that he needs to know.

She is as scared as he is…and trying desperately not to be.

She is as scared as he is and yet, she believes in him nonetheless.

That knot within him clenches again, harder this time. Ed gnaws his lip.

“You’re leaving for Amestris tomorrow.” She raises her head, looks at him. A small, sad smile lifts her lips. “Right?”

Ed gazes down at his lap. His shoulders hunch slightly. It feels as though an immense weight sits upon them. Far more than even that of solely regaining he and Al’s bodies.

He sighs. “…yeah.”

It is quiet for a moment. Then, her hand finds his. She squeezes and he drags his eyes up to hers. Gold meets blue, fire and fear in both.

“You’re gonna win, Ed!” She says, voice tight with emotion and determination. “I don’t care what doubts are in that head of yours. I know you will! You’re gonna save the world and get you and Al’s bodies back!”

Ed swallows, hard. His throat is horribly tight. His stomach is a mess of butterflies.

But Winry’s hand is warm and steady in his, a comfort and a reassurance. The callouses upon it tell of the lives she has saved.

…his included.

Ed sets down his food and places his other hand over the top of their entwined ones. Tentatively, he rubs his thumb over her skin. He can’t feel her with this one — his automail is as unreceptive as Al’s armor. But his every sense is alive anyway.

They are so close now that it’s agonizing.

“I want…” He breathes in, breathes out. He is certain that his grip is horribly clammy. “Winry I…”

It is pure torture. The words won’t come. Ed shakes his head.

Why is he so bad at this?

He looks at Winry and she looks back. He feels paralyzed by her gaze.

“Yeah, Ed?” She cocks her head. “What is it that you want?”

You.

The thought pops into his head before he can stop it, taunting like Riza’s voice proclaiming his love. His entire face flushes red.

“Ed?” There is a question in those beautiful blue eyes now, one Ed can’t seem to answer.

But there is something he has to do regardless. Because he might not be alive to do it later.

He steels his resolve, leans forward, and kisses her.

Winry makes a little surprised noise. And Ed wonders if maybe she doesn’t want this after all, if maybe he’s overstepped and messed everything up and this will be one of the last memories Winry will have of him — Ed being an absolute idiot.

But then she is leaning into him and her hands are free from between his and they are on his face instead, cupping it as though he is something precious to her. Something more important than even the automail she adores.

He brings his hands up too, brushing her hair behind her ears, brushing his thumbs lightly on her cheeks.

They only pull back when they are both breathless. And then, they merely sit for a moment, foreheads pressed together, both blushing madly and grinning like they have already won the coming battle.

“I’ve been wondering when you’d do that,” Winry says, at last, matter of factly.

Ed sits back with a start. His eyebrows dip into a frown.

“You’ve been waiting for me to kiss you? For how long?!”

Winry shrugs. “Since your promise at the train station.”

Ed gawks. “You’ve known since that day?! And-and you didn’t — ”

She doesn’t let him finish.

When they separate the second time, it is with even more reluctance than before. Somehow this has made his leaving all the more terrifying, and certainly more painful.

And it seems Winry feels that too.

“Come back to me, Edward Elric,” she whispers, as they sit close beneath a smiling sky, food forgotten in the rush of this moment.

And though he has no way of guaranteeing it, Ed promises that he will.

#maybe it’s ooc for them to kiss at this point in the story #especially for ed lol #but I don’t care #I saw that gorgeous Edwin art yesterday #of the pre-promised day smooch #and couldn’t help myself #anyway #thanks again! #trin writes #fmab #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fmab fanfiction #edward x winry #edwin #fluff #angst #follower celebration

[dootiexcupcake]

Body

pairing: Heeseung x fem!reader, Jay x fem!reader, Jake x fem!reader, Sunghoon x fem!reader [no names are stated so anyone in hyung line can be in this fic. Jus let ur mind go crazy lol]

tags: first meetings, strangers to lovers, S2L, meet cute ?, club setting, flirty!HYUNG line member, bold reader ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), suggestive (not really), reader blushes but it can’t be seen so, black/POC reader 💃🏾

WARNINGS: drug mention (only once and it has nothing to do with the story at all), drinking, alcohol mention, club setting (not sure if that’s a warning but just in case), slight suggestive

WC: 1k

A/N: I wrote this in 2022 for a friend but I just decided to post it cuz why not 🤷🏾‍♀️

You have no idea why you’re here in this crowded and stuffy club. Well, that’s not entirely true. Your friends begged you to go clubbing with them and basically dragged you here with their boyfriends.

It’s just the fact that you agreed to go along with all of this is what’s so baffling.

The blaring music is giving you a headache, there’s so many people in this cramped building it looks like it’s at its max capacity, and the unbearable smell of some drug cocktail feels like you’re getting a second hand high, the cute dude from across the room is eyeing you up and down.

Wait…

Ok so maybe you’d be lying to yourself if you said the reason why you haven’t left yet was for the drinks. Because it definitely wasn’t the drinks that were keeping you here. You and the mystery guy have been undressing each other with your eyes for a hot minute. He also may or may not be the one sending drinks over to your table too.

You feel your heart begin to jog when you see the pretty brunette get up from his seat and weave his way through the sea of dancing bodies.

Taking his time.

Walking all the way.

To you.

“Hey.” He said with all the confidence in the world for such a concise greeting. You smirked back at him and replied, “hey.”

“Thanks for the drinks by the way, you made this whole club experience a lot more tolerable.” You said as you took a quick sip from the fruity drink he sent to your table.

“Of course, figured you would need a pick me up on one of the busiest nights of the week after all.”

You nearly choked. ‘God, why would these clowns not only drag me to a club but a BUSY club?’ You definitely gotta learn to put your foot down with your friends. No matter how much they give you the puppy dog eyes!

The man noticed your surprised expression and chuckled.

‘He has a really cute laugh…’

“You’re cute. You wanna go out on the floor and dance for a bit?” He suggested, head gesturing over to the huge dance floor. Your stomach dropped at the crowd of people swarming the dance floor, and you also felt your cheeks heat up at the compliment he gave you. “I think I’ll fare better over here if you don’t mind.” You announced while sinking further into the cushy loveseat and sliding over a bit to offer him a place to sit. The man smiled and sat down next to you. The distance between the two of you was nonexistent because of the small size of the sofa, which caused the both of you to avoid eye contact and hide your blushing faces. Luckily for you, it wasn’t as apparent. But the way you bit your lip was telling enough for him to quickly catch on.

With a smirk the man started up the conversation again, “Hate to be so cheesy but, do you come here often? I’m positive I would have remembered a pretty face like yours.” You can’t help but snort at the corny line he just used on you. In most cases you would have got up and flipped him off while walking away. But something about him was just..different. Different in a very good way. “This is my first time at a club actually. I just came here cuz my dumb friends dragged me along. How ’bout you, you go clubbing often?” You ask, relaxing a bit as the two of you continued on with your casual conversation.

You learned that he’s not a frequent club go-er and that previous comment was in fact, an uber cheesy pickup line to break the ice. You learned that he’s a pretty dorky guy despite all the confidence and you guys actually attend the same local college.

“Wait, if that’s the case then why haven’t I seen you around campus then? I’m pretty sure I would have remembered you at least.” You say as you purse your lips in thought, “oh, is that why you were eyeing me all night?” You momentarily stiffened in your seat before delivering a playful punch to his arm. Your attack on him caused him to giggle “Hey hey hey, I was looking too! Don’t get all shy!” He said in between giggles. You rolled your eyes but you couldn’t stop the smile that was forming on your lips either.

After a moment of comfortable silence he spoke up again, “Are you seeing anybody?” The sudden question took you off guard a bit, “bold are we?” You say as you take another sip of your half full drink. “I mean..you were looking at me quite hard for someone who’s potentially in a relationship.” He says while wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “What, I can’t admire someone from afar now?” You play along with his teasing, “hmm, good point. So you like to look around and see what you like, yeah?” He says as his arm snakes around the back of your chair, leaning in closer while his dark eyes stare at you alluringly, “what do you do when you finally have it, hm?”

You shrink under his intense gaze, loving the way his voice drops an octave lower as he speaks to you. You move your head closer to his ear and whisper, “I like to play with it.” You can feel his lips against your neck and you have to suppress the moan creeping up your throat. “Really? How are you gonna play with me sweetheart? You gonna do it right here with an audience nearby? You want everyone to watch? That’s how you like to play, baby?” He murmurs against the shell of your ear, lips trailing back to their original place on your neck. You bite your lip and internally fight with yourself to stop from doing this out in the open. You put your hand on his lap and it catches his attention. He looks in your eyes cautiously, worrying that he may have crossed a line, and asks you if you’re ok. You nod your head and whisper in his ear one last time before getting up and walking away, “meet me in the supply closet”

enha m.list | main m.list

#enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enha reactions #enha headcanons #enha scenarios #heeseung imagine #heeseung x you #heeseung x y/n #heeseung x reader #heeseung x female reader #enhypen jay x reader #enhypen jay x you #jay park x you #jay park x reader #jay park x y/n #sim jake x reader #sim jake x you #jake sim imagines #jake sim x reader #jake sim x y/n #enhypen jake x reader #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x you #park sunghoon x you #enhypen hyung line #enhypen suggestive #enhypen smut #enhypen x black reader

[morganas-pendragons]

Making a list of what I’ve witnessed/done/learned in the months I’ve worked as a SPED Paraprofessional at Pre-K:

• taught 4 year olds what the skin on your elbow is called

• taught another 4 year old how to wink

• convinced one of my favorite kids that he has a little friend named ghosty ghost following him around who pokes him at random intervals throughout the day

• taught a special needs student who didn’t speak when I met him how to communicate with me specifically through hand signals that indicated what animal he was - does it swim/fly/walk, what does it eat, is it big/small - to which he now speaks more now then he has probably ever

• got played by a 4 year old who wanted a second snack so he casually slid me the last two gushers from his bag and then turned to the teacher and said, “I’m done!”

• got a group of special ed pre-k kids to officially deem bath and body works eucalyptus hand sanitizer as “the good stuff”

• made a joke to a three year old that the enormous books he read after snack every day made him look like he was reading a newspaper. They made a joke every single day that they were on their way to read their newspapers. (It was a volcano book) 😭

• learned that pipe cleaners have metal in them. Yes, I am twenty four.

learned who Pete the Cat was

• learned that adult women between the ages of 35-40 really do act like adult children

• got complimented that my hair was “rapunzel hair” despite it not being cut for like 7 months

• learned how to be a physical touch person despite hating being hugged but hey, four year olds want to hug you constantly and how are you going to deny those puppy dog eyes?

ended up buying one of the little ones who lost his house in a tornado a stuffy and a book.. took it to his house, where he then proceeded to act like he had no idea who I was (it was cute in the moment)

apparently line tag is a thing??? on a basketball court??

oh also, they crack up with laughter when I play tag with them!

they smell markers for sport

You think they realize common little games like staring contests and then when you realize they don’t and teach them anyway they go around and teach their little minions

I have heard them sing: Barbie Girl, Flowers, Unholy, and the one song from Wednesday I can’t remember the name of 😂

I had a guy pass me a love note through his second grade son. No joke. He gave it to his kid, who gave it to the teacher to give to me, and the note was asking me out on a date.

Had a 4 year old straight up innocently say a curse word from his encoded message to his father which said, “dad: please don’t bust my a** anymore.” (Which, according to aunt who worked in building, has only happened once) And about DIED from laughing so hard. So did the teachers.

I got addicted to the snacks I had never tried until working with pre-school. SunChips and Rice Krispies never die.

Found out one of my little boys called me Carla to his parents because they couldn’t quite figure out what name he was saying. It was only upon meeting me that they said, “oh YOU’RE Kayla! We called you Carla for days!”

They sang a song about Goldfish. That song is now burned into my memory. Why is some young children’s music so freaking catchy?

On the last day, my favorite girl turned around to look at me before she got on the bus. I didn’t have the heart to really tell her that I wasn’t coming back. What I said was very brief. When she did turn around, I waved. She waved back. Little did she know I BROKE the second she walked through that door and disappeared. I didn’t think I’d come to love her as much as I did but she made it so EASY.

My oldest boy who I was the aide for? I met his grandmother, and she now sends me such wholesome photos of him and stresses that my loving him the way I did made a huge difference. She doesn’t know how hard I cry every single time she says it.

They have lungs. And I made the mistake of sticking them on high swings they can’t get to by themselves, which they all want to fight over, so half the time I wanted to just talk to teachers I ended up hearing: “MISSSSSSSSS KAYLLLAAAA!!! WILL YOU COME PUSH ME?” Hollered across the playground.

^ I will never make that same mistake again. 😂

Not everyone is meant for pre-school, but MAN… did I love it.

Cons: I never got included in anything by the teachers or their aides. They never included me, and man did that sting.

I GOT PINK EYE IN BOTH EYES THE DAY AFTER SCHOOL ENDED FOLKS

#tbd #pre school #pre-K #working with kids is a TRIP

[thinplacesradio]

a boardwalk arcade at night, empty. the image is slightly distorted by VHS fuzz. [002] THE NEW DOOR. A CALLER DREAMS A NEW DOOR. THE HOST DOES HER LAUNDRY.

listen anywhere. transcript under the cut:

[static, radio tuning] 

[Traveling Sales Rep: Don’t touch that dial! We’ll be right back, after these short messages.] [static, radio tuning] 

[click]

Hello and welcome to Thin Places Radio. I'm your host, and it is the middle of the night. But don't worry. You're not alone.

[Thin Places theme intro]

I’m coming to you live from my studio, which is what i like to call this 24-hour laundromat with broken orange plastic chairs, rattly old AC, and, for some godforsaken reason, an arcade console, that’s not turning on. I’ve always liked laundromats - the neon stuttering in the window, clean-laundry smell, the white-noise of the washer-dryers, the almost-too-hot-stuffy air. It’s comforting. Like… a womb. Or a coffin.

What is Thin Places Radio? Well, you can call in about anything strange that you've got going on in your life. Do you hear your footsteps lag when you’re walking down that series of interconnected subterranean tunnels? Is there a ghost in your washing machine? Or, is there a padlock in your friends’ attic you can’t - or shouldn’t - open?

Call in, get it off your chest. Lines are open.

[click] [voicemail:]

“I'm calling because I just woke up after a dream where the house that I'm living in - the rooms were changing and rearranging themselves? Not the contents, but where they were in the house. Like I'd walk into where the kitchen used to be and it was a different room? Not necessarily. A room I'd seen before? And I thought it was just a dream, but when I woke up, I walked out of my bedroom and was making my way towards the bathroom. And I noticed a door I hadn't seen before. And I was wondering. Should I open that?”

[click] 

Hi, caller - I’m so glad you left me a message. You never know when you might look at something you’ve seen for years, or maybe even your whole life, and realize that, suddenly, nothing is the way that you thought it was. The unheimlich. Something that should be familiar - your house - is unfamiliar. Something that should be unfamiliar - a new door - is actually something you recognize. 

I’m usually okay with answers, but I don’t think I can answer this one for you. Because you can’t unring a bell. You can’t undream a dream. And you can’t unopen a door - even if you never go through it after all. 

There are a thousand possible futures. There are a thousand possible yous in those thousand possible futures. But, here’s the thing - all of those yous are still you. All of those yous are still beloved, no matter what happens. 

Should you open the door? I don’t know. Can you live with the unanswered question if you don’t? 

[click] [searching music]

Right now, as you’re listening to this, an act of kindness is taking place. Acts of brutality, too, and desperation, and hopelessness, and hopefulness. But also kindness - the kind that comes for free, between strangers, with no benefit to be gained.

Somewhere, right now, a twenty-two year old is crying on the steps outside their apartment. They just moved to this city, and they’ve locked themselves out, but that isn’t why they’re crying. Their reasons are too big to articulate, and also too easy. A sixty-seven year old woman is walking past them. She understands feeling alone, a stranger to yourself and to everybody else. The twenty-two year old thinks it’s a kindness to be ignored, but it’s not. It’s just politeness. The woman fishes a packet of Kleenex out of her purse. “I won’t tell you to cheer up,” she says. The twenty-two year old blows their nose. “Cry as long as you’d like. But after you’ve finished, pick yourself back up. You are very strong, even though you wish you didn’t have to be.” And she nods. It’s what she would have wanted to hear. And, somehow, it’s what they needed to hear, too. 

[click]

Something weird, listeners: megafauna! Why do you think moose are so big? It’s ‘cause of dinosaurs. Did you know that ancient rats were ten times the size of modern rats? I know this because I think I might be seeing the last remaining one sniffing its way along the shelves on the wall of this laundromat. 

[click]

Alright, looks like the spin cycle’s done. And - huh. The ancient video game looks like it’s turned itself back on. It’s got the title flashing there now - POLYBIUS? Maybe I’ll play a few rounds while I'm waiting. Maybe I won't. Either way, the future’s wide open. 

[click]

Thank you for listening, callers, and thank you for calling, listeners. I hope you feel a little bit lighter. I know I do. As always, our number is 717.382.8093. That's 717.382.8093. Until next time. I'll be here.

[click]

[static] [Traveling Sales Rep: visit us at the - diner just off -] [Various Garbled Voices: ]  

Thin Places Radio is a podcast written by Kristen O’Neal and produced by Kaitlin Bruder. The voice of your host is Kristen O’Neal. Tonight’s voicemail was left for us by Emily Carlson. Editing and sound design are by Kaitlin Bruder, and the music tracks you heard in tonight’s episode are: the Thin Places theme, by Miles Morkri, and Umeed by RANA.

If you have a story to tell or a question to ask, give us a call at ‪[phone]‬. The lines are always open.

[Thin Places Theme outro]

#thin places radio #TPR #episodes #002 #the new door #podcast #caller: Emily Carlson

[schrijverr]

Miracle Worker 2

Chapter 2 out of 10

Mike has dropped out of High School at sixteen to take on a full time job as a bike delivery boy to take care of Grammy. He lies that he’s eighteen to get better hours and more pay, somehow ending up working for Harvey on a project that will get him Senior Partnership. Mike and Harvey become friends during the course of it, Mike looking up to Harvey as all he wants to be, but probably never will. However, when things go south with Grammy, he considers taking Trevor’s offer to do a drug run, instead ending up with Harvey offering to be his mentor. Offering him help.

In this chapter, friction starts between Mike and Trevor, while Mike impresses Harvey more and more with his deliveries, ending in front of Jessica Pearson.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: proverty, mild classism

~~~~~~~~~~

Will

Between all his deliveries, he makes time to hang out with Trevor, whom he has known since he was a little kid. They’ve always been best friend, despite the fact that Trevor is three years older, having been held back a year, while Mike skipped two.

They’ve always done their best to stay friends, even if they grew up to be very different people. Even now, with Mike working full time while Trevor is becoming more a trouble maker than a senior in High School, they make time for each other. Sundays, are optimal, since most businesses are either shut down or slowed down enough that Mike can consistently clear them.

“How’s school?” Mike asks, desperate to know about the place he’d been loath to leave behind. It sucked, he knows that, but now that he’s no longer in school, he misses it.

“School is school,” Trevor shrugs, completely unconcerned. “All boring tests and blah, blah, blah. I skip most of the time, honestly. Can’t wait to get out of there.”

“And your college applications?” Mike asks, hoping to get at least something out of his friend. He’s worried about Trevor, always has been.

While Trevor might be the one that beat up the bullies that came after Mike, it was Mike who wrote his essays along with his own, who did both their homework and let Trevor cheat of his tests. He knows Trevor can do it on his own, but the other boy has never shown interest in doing well academically.

His parents are rich and he has always assumed he can live of the trust fund and later inherit their company. Recently, without Mike there to force him to at least try, he’s been letting school slip through his fingers more and more. And Mike can’t help, but be concerned about what his friend will do when his parents finally decide that enough is enough and cut him off until he gets himself back on track.

“Like I’m going to make it into college,” Trevor grouches, slouching even more on the ridiculously expensive couch in one of the many living rooms in the Evans residence.

“Come on, Trevor, don’t be like that,” Mike punches his arm lightly as he says that. “Any college would be lucky to have you. Not to mention your parents are both Yale legacies. You’re gonna be fine.”

“And what if I don’t want to be fine?” Trevor challenges, to moodiness melting away as if he’s smelling a fight and is glad to have it.

“What do you mean?” Mike asks, apprehension forming in his stomach, nearly afraid to ask because then he’ll have to live with whatever the answer is.

“I don’t want to do the whole college crap,” Trevor scowls. “I don’t want to be a legacy and study and do all that movie bullshit. I just don’t. It’s stupid and I hate school, why would I want to toss even more years away like that? That’s what my parents want. But not me. I want to start a business, make some real money, have fun, not be stuck in stuffy classrooms.”

Mike can hardly believe his ears. Not only does Trevor already have all the money in the world, which will stay his if he gets his ass into college, any college really, and tries. He also has the opportunity to get into Yale and other fancy colleges due to his parent’s connections. And he gets to study like Mike wishes he could.

He has never asked Trevor for anything except friendship. Not a single penny has he borrowed, even when he had to drop out to support himself, because Trevor had confessed to him how he hated that everyone was nice to him since his parents were rich. However, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel the need to punch Trevor in his face really, really hard right now.

“You already have a business that will be yours one day,” Mike says instead of getting angry. It’s his own feelings, he shouldn’t be pushing those on Trevor. “And having a degree will make running a business much easier. You can still have fun in college, Trev.”

“So why do you get to drop out and just have fun? You’re always off in the city doing god knows what without me while I’m stuck reading about the Cold War or something,” Trevor asks him petulantly, another lie coming back to haunt him. He never told Trevor about Grammy and the money problems, just said he needed a break from school.

“Because I have plans to get back, Trevor,” he can’t help but snap slightly, before reigning himself in. It’s no use to fight with Trevor when he can’t even say why he’s upset. That would be unfair to his friend. “I’m sixteen, dude. Why go to college when I won’t even pass with a fake ID?”

Trevor gives him a look, like he doesn’t really believe him. Mike can’t blame him really, but he made his effort and he’s still upset about what Trevor said, even if his own lies caused it. In the end, Trevor says: “Yeah, I get that. I’ll sneak you into a few parties.”

“So, you’re going to try?” Mike asks, hopeful. “I can proofread your application essays.”

“I’ll think about it.” That is as much of a concession that he’ll get, so he drops it and moves on to different topics, like school gossip and what went down at the posh party Trevor’s parents threw last week.

Hanging out with Trevor is nice, even if there are more schisms between them than before. Trevor is his oldest friend, the one symbol of his life when it was easy and fun. He’s not just letting him go, not after all he’s been through with Trevor there.

Monday rolls around and Mike is up at ass o’clock in the morning, like he always is these days. He makes breakfast for himself and Grammy, waking her enough to force her to take her meds, but letting her sleep after. She needs the rest.

Then he gets on his bike, checking his phone for all the deliveries he has today. A few deliveries in Queens, one for a charity, those are rare. He has to go to Staten, ugh. He also spots one for Pearson Hardman, but it’s for Mr. Litt to be taken to his office, even if it’s not marked as urgent.

Harvey is now his guy at Pearson Hardman, however, he still delivers for anyone who uses Fly Delivery and it seems it’s the firm’s courier service. But that doesn’t mean he can’t check if it’s for Harvey anyway. The man tips well and maybe if Mike brings him the non-urgent deliveries directly, he can get another tip like that. Not today, though. Today he has to bring it to Mr. Litt and he vividly remembers how much the last delivery there sucked.

Mike is not ashamed to admit he puts off the delivery as much as he can. The deadline is 2:00, so he’s there at 1:45 (he is a professional, okay, no matter how scared he might be of Mr. Litt, he’s going to provide good service anyway).

He smiles at Jose, who nods back stoically, before going into the elevators, unable to hide the nerves at the prospect of seeing Mr. Litt again.

The route to Mr. Litt’s office is familiar, even if he has only walked it once. All the offices he’s ever visited are burned into his memory, like every other piece of useless information he has ever absorbed. Though this is useful for as long as he manages to hang onto this job at least. And who knows, maybe one day he’ll dazzle someone with his smarts instead of making them call him a freak.

Mr. Litt’s office is again guarded by the elderly lady, Norma, who looks up at him over her half moon glasses. He fidgets, feeling a bit like a boy who got called to the head teacher’s office. He holds up the package and says: “I’m here on a delivery. Can I hand it to you, ma’am?”

Norma levels another look at him and doesn’t respond. Mike fidgets some more, stepping forwards to hand it to her, figuring she’d stop him if it’s wrong.

“What are you doing?” Mr. Litt interrupts him.

“Delivering a package for you, Mr. Litt,” Mike stammers, unsure how this could anger the man in any way.

“So why aren’t you handing it to me?” Mr. Litt asks him.

“Uh,” Mike can’t very well tell the man it was in the hopes of avoiding him, so he says silent, handing the package to Mr. Litt instead of Norma, like he planned.

Mr. Litt snatches it out of his hands, ranting: “And you’re nearly late too. I swear to god, services these days are getting worse and worse. Do you know how important these papers can be? Who am I kidding, of course you don’t. You can’t even follow the simple instruction of bringing it to my office. My office is over there,” he points to the office behind him, “not out here. Okay?”

“I- I’m sorry, Mr. Litt,” Mike stutters. He has always liked delivering to mail room more, since they have standardization in how packages are received. Each business man, lawyer or CEO has their own ways they prefer and Mike always seems to get it wrong.

“Sorry isn’t going to do much, now is it,” Mr. Litt snaps at him.

“Louis,” a familiar voice behind them saves Mike from having to respond, “you’re really going to take out your loss against Harvey on Mike?”

“You know this kid?” Mr. Litt sounding both surprised and scared.

When Mike turns back he sees Donna, looking all sorts of unimpressed, arms crossed. She says: “I know him, he’s our emergency delivery boy. He’s the fastest there is and really not the one you should be yelling at.”

“He isn’t that fast,” Mr. Litt sniffs. “The deadline for this is 2:00, he took his sweet time.”

“It’s not even 2:00 yet, Louis,” Donna points out and before Mr. Litt can protest it, she asks Mike: “So, can you tell me what deliveries you had before this?”

“I don’t think I’m supposed to tell you that,” Mike protests.

“Humor me, unless it’s in your contract,” Donna says.

“Well, it’s not not allowed,” Mike gives in, still slightly unsure. “I was in Queens mostly. I had a few deliveries for a charity, pretty sure they’re donation collections. I also had to deliver a few documents from the DA’s office to the courthouse on Staten Island. Mr. Litt’s package wasn’t marked as urgent, I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

“So,” Donna turns back to Mr. Litt sharply, “not only was Mike here before the final deadline, he also wasn’t told it was urgent and did other important work before yours. So what an earth did he do to you, Louis.”

“He still couldn't even bring it to me directly,” Mr. Litt huffs, though he’s backing off, which Mike is grateful for.

“It said I was to take it to your office, Mr. Litt,” Mike offers. “Some would rather I hand it to their secretary. It won’t happen again, I promise, sir.”

“And he’s respectful too,” Donna says pointedly. “You can’t expect the kid to be a mind reader, Louis. Apologize to him and I won’t do anything with the 3rd of June 1997, okay?”

Mr. Litt blanches and grits out a quick apology to Mike, which never has happened before, then he quickly retreats into his office, looking sulky. Mike turns to Donna with wide eyes of admiration and breathes: “How did you do that?”

“I’m Donna,” she tells him simply and he finds that explanation enough with just her being her.

“Thank you,” he smiles, hoping he can convey how much he appreciates her stepping in when Mr. Litt was yelling at him.

“It’s a pleasure,” Donna says. “Can I ask if you’re too busy for an extra delivery today? I was on my way to bring this to the mail room, but this would be more convenient.”

He takes the package she’s holding and does his best impression of the associate smirks he has seen during his job. He smirks: “For someone as amazing as you, who saved me from Mr. Litt to boot, I’ll move heaven and earth.”

“Little charmer,” Donna smiles indulgently. “You’re going to break a lot of hearts once you get through puberty.”

“I’m already through puberty!” he exclaims, immediately undermined in his lie by his voice cracking. If Donna sees through his age lie, this whole thing might start crumbling down. “I just have a babyface.”

“Whatever you say, kid,” she smirks. “I don’t believe you’re a day over eighteen.”

A wave of relief washes through him. She hasn’t uncovered his lie. He protests, but this time a bit more playfully: “Well, I still argue in favor of my boy-ish charms.”

“Charms you shouldn’t be using to flirt with women who are ten years older than you,” she chides him and he blushes, though he can’t help but say: “I might believe five, but not ten, Donna.”

Donna chuckles and says: “You’re a delight, Mike. Now, chop chop, these need to be brought to Travis Tanner, he’s staying at the Chilton Hotel, room 2412. Harvey does not like him, so be disrespectful if you can. Maybe a bit smug. We have him by the balls here.”

“Does his firm work in this city?” Mike asks.

“No, from Boston, he’s here for this one case. Why?” Donna answers.

“Then they’re not regular clients,” Mike explains with a grin. “I won’t be hurting Fly Deliveries, just making one of our lovely clients happy.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Donna grins.

He gives her a salute, feeling happy when he leaves, the opposite of what he’d feared. He likes Donna, she’s nice even if she’s scary. He decides it is best to keep her on his good side, so he paddles over to the Chilton Hotel immediately

At room 2412 he knocks on the door at the door calling out: “Delivery for Travis Tanner?”

A slimy looking man with brown hair opens the door with a frown: “I didn’t order anything, what the hell are you doing here?” But he signs anyway, taking the files.

Mike puts on his most impish grin and quickly tucks the signed paper away. “Harvey Specter says hi. He has you by the balls. Hope you’re prepared.” Then, just because he can, be blows a raspberry in his face, before hurrying down the hall without waiting for Mr. Tanner’s reaction.

That delivery makes his day. It’s always fun when he can do more than just hand things over and sign things off. So, he happily paddles through the rest of his deliveries, not even minding that he gets yelled at again by another guy.

When he gets a delivery for Harvey a few days later, it’s not marked as urgent, but is does need to be brought to Harvey’s office directly. Mike wonders if Donna forgot to mark it. He thinks it’s unlikely, but to be sure, he puts it on the top of his list. Right below one that is actually marked urgent and will get him yelled at by his actual boss if he doesn’t deliver.

But then he’s off to Pearson Hardman, the place becoming a common sight. He thinks his boss does it on purpose, ever since he got Harvey to sign him on as a permanent urgent delivery boy. It’s good, he thinks, Jose even smiles at him this time.

A bit of apprehension fills his chest as he sees Harvey standing next to Donna’s desk as he approaches. Softly he starts: “Uhm, I have a delivery for you, Mr.- Harvey, sir.”

“Ah, there is the flash,” Harvey grins when he spots him, putting him at ease. “Don’t worry, I won’t bite your head off if you leave it with Donna.”

“You heard about that?” Mike groans, feeling a bit embarrassed about having been yelled at like a naughty kid.

“Yeah,” Harvey says with a grin, then his face turns serious. “I also heard a bit about your delivery to Tanner.”

Mike swallows, did he do something wrong? Donna told him to be smug, but maybe Harvey was against it. He stammers: “Y- You did?”

The serious expression on Harvey’s face starts to crack and relief floods through Mike’s veins when the lawyer laughs. “God, that’s hilarious! I know Donna told you to be disrespectful, but I never expected that. You should have seen his face when he told me,” Harvey says. “He asked if I told you to do it. He was so offended.”

“Aim to please,” Mike smiles back, proud he did right by Harvey. It’s probably sad how much he jumped on the first role model out there who gave him a grain of humanity and attention, but he tries not to focus on that as he jokes: “Should I be worried for legal repercussions?”

“Nah, I told him I paid you to do it, which isn’t even incorrect,” Harvey assures him. “If he has any trouble, it’ll be with me.”

“And I’m assuming he already has enough trouble with you right now? With you ‘having him by the balls’ and all that,” Mike asks, unable to hide the curious tone. He’s always curious about the packages he delivers and he will never know most of them. Now, however, he does have the chance to find out, so he’s taking it.

Harvey, luckily, isn’t against bragging in the slightest and informs Mike that what he delivered was a piece of evidence that proved Tanner’s client had been embezzling money from Harvey’s client, the smoking gun so to speak. And after the delivery the two settled quite quickly, for an amount so high Mike can’t help but let his mouth hang open slightly.

Then Mike really has to go if he wants to complete all his deliveries at a reasonable time today. As he says so, Harvey and Donna wave him off, but not before Harvey hands him another twenty. “For making my day,” he tells him and Mike once again walks away from Pearson Hardman in a good mood.

That mood is dimmed slightly, when he sees Trevor loitering on a street corner when he’s making a delivery in Brooklyn.

He knows the other boy skips a lot of classes, which could mean running into him while working, but he still hasn’t expected it to actually happen. Fortunately, Trevor looks distracted and Mike angles his face away as he races by.

How would he explain this to Trevor?

Mike told his friend that he needed a break from school. He said that he wanted to have some more time to be a teen before finishing High School, maybe alluded to him being out getting into his own sort of trouble while Trevor was at school. To have it be revealed he has been working every day would be both humiliating and uncomfortable.

It’s stupid, probably, to not ask for help from Trevor. He knows the other has the money to help him even though his parents think Mike is the one dragging him into trouble and might not want to help, he knows Trevor will pull some bullshit to help him anyway. And even if he couldn’t, he would be there for him and Grammy, maybe help with groceries or keeping Grammy company.

But Mike can’t bring himself to tell Trevor. Because Trevor won’t really understand, won’t get how much Mike hates needing to ask for help. How much he hates his whole situation, the universe that seems to be against him, and, on the dark nights, even his Grammy, though he hates himself for those moments too.

There is also the chance that Trevor won’t get that no one can know about what Mike is doing to keep him and Grammy afloat.

If Trevor asks his parents for help, or goes to anyone about it, then CPS will be on the doorstep in seconds.

And Grammy is the only person who has ever been there for Mike, cared for him when his parents died and never gave up on him. Grammy is his everything and he’s going to do anything in his power to keep him with her, to care for her, to repay her the love she has given him for all these years.

So no, no one can know. Not even Trevor. It’s best if he thinks Mike is having fun out there, being too busy with his own stuff for the things he left behind in High School. Thus Mike bikes past, not looking at Trevor and being too busy with his own fears to even wonder what he’s doing there.

He isn’t spotted and continues on with his day, however, in the following week, he can’t help but be cautious. Even if it turns out to be for nothing and he relaxes slightly.

When he gets another delivery for Harvey, it is again not urgent, but still to be delivered to his office.

Of course he puts it as high up on the list as he can get away with – Harvey is his only direct urgent customer and Mike is determined to keep his business. So he gets to the office at about ten greeting Jose, who smiles again. He’s making progress there, he thinks smugly.

The way to Harvey’s office is very familiar despite the fact that he has made only three deliveries there before now. Donna’s bright hair is easily spotted and he smiles as she looks up and spots him, bounding over to her desk.

“Here you go, m’lady,” he winks as he hands her the files.

“I know I said you’re a charmer, but I think it went to your head there,” Donna informs him. “I told you not to do that, didn’t I? Are you trying to get something out of me?”

“Well,” Mike knows he shouldn’t be flirting with Donna, but it is just a joke and she seems to know that. Still, he decides to drop it and go with: “Sometimes it gets me cookies.”

“Cookies?” Donna repeats.

“Yeah, I’m willing to go to the dark side for cookies,” he grins, knowing his eyes are too mischievous for the innocent look he’s trying to pull of.

“God that’s one of those dorky nerd things, right?” Donna asks and Mike blushes as he nods, not thinking she’d catch him in that one. “I think I heard Harvey say that once too,” she comments.

“Harvey?” Mike repeats before he can stop it or remember that the man knows comics, so why not Star Wars.

“Between me and you? He’s a giant nerd,” she tells him conspiratorially.

“Really?” Mike raises a brow. It’s not often he can do office gossip, seeing that his job doesn’t have an office and if it did, he would have kept his distance to avoid slipping up. But it is nice. It is especially nice when Donna gives him an actual cookie. “Thank you,” he says sincerely, surprised by the kindness and the fact that Donna has cookies at her desk.

“Of course,” Donna smiles at him, before they both startle Harvey’s voice coming over the intercom: “That looks cozy out there, can I have a cookie and my files now?”

“I’m sorry,” Mike says immediately. “I didn’t mean to hold you up.” He likes talking to people, to have that social interaction whenever he can. He thrives on it. However, he doesn’t want to mess up at his job, he needs it too much, and especially not with Harvey, whose approval and money he greatly appreciates.

“You’re not, sweetheart,” Donna replies gently. “He’s a bit of a grumpy pants, but he’s mostly trying to weasel a cookie out of me. I refuse to tell him where I get them and it’s driving him nuts,” she winks and Mike giggles.

He watches her pull out another cookie and put it on the files he just gave her. He’s about to turn away when Donna stops him. “Wait, I have your tip here, Harvey left it with me in case he was out,” she explains, holding out another twenty.

“Thank you,” he says, holding the twenty with probably too much reverence than is healthy. He knows he should say something more about the big tips, but he doesn’t want them to stop, because they mean he can afford some of the small unexpected things.

“It’s alright,” Donna sounds as if she knows what’s going through his mind right now. “He might be a hardass, but he appreciates good work.”

“Thank you,” he repeats, not sure what else to say, before he bids her goodbye and leaves.

He uses the tip Harvey gave him to buy a good blanket. Last week the heating went out for a bit and he doesn’t want to think about the possibility of Grammy freezing. She also has a tendency to forget about the heating, so it’s an extra comfort, both to her and his conscious when he has to leave her each morning.

Trevor calls on Thursday to ask if Mike wants to come to a party that night. Mike considers it, but he has the early morning shift tomorrow and the last thing he wants if having to navigate New York traffic while tired.

Not only that but Grammy is as clear as a whistle and he isn’t going to waste a night where he can pretend it’s last year again and life was good. So he declines and tries not to be upset when Trevor complains: “You’re always too busy for me, dick,” before hanging up.

Ugh, he hates this. He hates the lying and the stress and the constant worrying, but he can’t make himself regret it when his Grammy beats him at chess again while shit talking him with all the wit he’s used from her.

This is good, he thinks. This is what I’m doing it all for and it will always be worth it.

He is also grateful to himself, when he finds himself on his bike at 5 AM the next morning, making all the deliveries that need to be in places before the work day can start, while they were finished when yesterday’s work day should have long been over.

Mike doesn’t necessarily mind working in the early hours. The streets of New York are never quiet, but in those moments they are lived in by the people who live and breathe the Big Apple.

It’s the business man, who come in early. The soccer mom’s already out jogging. The party girls coming from the clubs. The baristas coming in to serve the morning crowd that is about to descend on them. And Mike loves being a part of that crowd. It makes him feel like he too is part of the many faces that make New York so great, that he will be missed when he’s not there to make the backdrop of the City that Never Sleeps like it is in the movies.

Those mornings also feel less rushed and he enjoys waking up slowly on his bike, instead of having to be alert immediately in the bustle of the streets.

He takes a break for breakfast, the energy bar he has shoved in his mouth that morning is not enough to keep his biking for hours. Biology is annoying, Mike decides, always surprised by how much it costs to keep himself fed not only with the physically demanding job, but while he’s growing too.

But the weekend is around the corner and he is actually off for the entire two days. So, he powers through the day, which is a long one, and sleeps in late on Saturday, waking up to Grammy’s pancakes, a luxury he rarely has.

It’s on Monday after the blessedly uneventful weekend that Mike’s life takes yet another turn, because he gets a call from Donna while he walks out of his latest delivery for the day. He picks up with a: “Hello, Mike Sorkins speaking, what can I do for you.”

“Oh thank god,” Donna’s voice greets him. “Drop everything you’re doing. We need you to work another miracle, Mike.”

“Where do I need to go,” he answers with no hesitation.

“There is a contract at the firm on 32nd Old Slip,” Donna tells him. “We need it in Jessica Pearson’s office before the end of the hour. Can you do that?”

Mike quickly calculates that it’ll take a little over 20 minutes to get from Old Slip to Pearson Hardman. He’s now a five minute ride away from the other firm. One glance at his watch tells him he has 30 minutes total. “Yeah, I can do that,” he answers, before what Donna says hits him and he exclaims: “Wait? Jessica Pearson, as in the Pearson of Pearson Hardman?”

“Yes,” Donna says. “It’s important.”

“I’ll be there,” Mike tells her, already hanging up. He has decided that the freak out can be saved until he’s in the elevators. Besides, he’ll probably have to hand it to the secretary, Wendy he remembers Donna telling him her name was. He won’t actually talk to the great Jessica Pearson, just see her through the window maybe.

Still, the nerves are making him jittery, which luckily helps him paddle faster, as well as aid him in hurrying the poor mail room worker along. He might be an unimpressive scrawny teen, but he has an annoyed face like no other, having copied it from all the businessmen who have ever waited on him as he came in a few seconds later than they would have liked.

So after a minute of huffing and puffing, he tears out of there, practically sprinting to his bike and jumping on it, before he’s off alongside the East River until he turns North.

The familiar building of Pearson Hardman comes into view and he doesn’t even bother to lock his bike, putting it in view of Jose as he calls out: “Please watch my bike, I have an urgent delivery for Jessica Pearson,” as he runs into an elevator.

In another situation, he would have been proud of the fact that Jose gives him a thumbs up, however, he’s too distracted now.

He glances at his watch anxiously. Only two minutes to 1:00 and the elevator moves oh so slowly as the handle ticks ever closer. This delivery is a big deal, he heard that in Donna’s voice, not to mention who he’s delivering it too. He doesn’t want to disappoint.

Luckily, the elevator arrives on the 50th floor and Mike remembers a map for clients he saw once that points him in the right direction.

Pearson Hardman is always a hive of production, but no lawyer would be ever caught doing something so undignified as running. Mike, however, is not a lawyer and has no such inhibitions, so he’s off running the moment those doors open.

Wendy, as it turns out, is a young Asian woman, who looks up surprise and mild disdain that seems to be common for anyone in the high life that meets him. He can’t blame her though, since he has just skidded to a halt in front of her desk in his messy, sweaty teen outfit, helmet still on his head, package in hand as he pants: “I- I have an urgent delivery for Ms. Pearson.”

Her eyes go wide and her eyebrows creep up her face as he says that. Instead of replying, however, she presses a button and says over the intercom: “Jessica, there is a delivery for you.”

Mike finally has enough air to look around and when he looks behind Wendy, he sees Harvey sitting in Ms. Pearson’s office, looking very smugly at an imposing black woman.

He has seen Ms. Pearson in a magazine before and he’d been impressed with her then, but that is nothing compared to the awe he feels now. Self consciously he wipes the sweat away and swallows roughly. What a first impression to make, he thinks bitterly.

Then a smooth voice comes back over the intercom as Jessica Pearson herself says: “Well, let him in then. It is quite urgent after all.”

“Of course, Jessica,” Wendy replies, motioning for Mike to go in there.

The anxiety that has been in the background the entire time slams into him at the prospect of talking to Ms. Pearson while sweaty and stinking, still catching his breath. If there is one thing he is, however, it’s ballsy and stubborn, so he puts on his game face and enters the office. He is shaking slightly, but ignores that as he hands the package with a: “Your files, Ms. Pearson.”

“Thank you, Mr…” she purposefully trails off and he can’t believe he’s lying to the biggest face in the law industry as he supplies: “Sorkin, ma’am.”

“Well, thank you, Mr. Sorkin,” she tells him. “And call me Jessica, please.”

“Of course, call me Mike,” he replies, voice a bit dry.

“Harvey, give Mike here something to drink,” Jessica orders the man, who has been ignored until now, as she signs the papers. “I’m giving these to Wendy to fax to London. They should be there before they close down for the day.”

She goes to do just that and Harvey offers him a glass of water, which he takes gratefully, too thirsty to even hesitate. Harvey is also still grinning, looking all sorts of pleased though Mike doesn’t know why yet. When Harvey catches his suspicious look, he snorts: “Stop that, this isn’t going to be a ‘This is Sparta’ moment, no wells around.”

“Really, because it feels like I’m going to dine in hell and I am not made for that,” Mike quotes back easily, despite the nerves. Then he can’t help but ask: “Is her not sending me away immediately good or bad news? Because if it’s bad, I might take the easy route and throw myself out the window.”

“Turn down the drama, Impulse,” Harvey rolls his eyes, but there’s humor in them.

“Easy for you to say, you’re not about to maybe get torn apart by New York’s best and most terrifying lawyer,” Mike squeaks. He isn’t the most comfortable around Harvey, yet, but the man has proven himself to be likable and right now, faced with potential disaster, Mike needs familiarity more than anything.

“I’m glad my reputation precedes me,” Jessica’s voice floats from the door and Mike practically jumps in the air as he apologizes. Harvey, the asshole, just laughs, as Jessica says: “It’s quite alright, Mike. But don’t worry, I’m not here to ‘tear you apart’ as you’ve so kindly put it.”

“You’re not?” Mike asks, tacking on a quick, “Ma’am.”

“No, I’m here to thank you for getting me that document on such short notice,” Jessica tells him. “My guy has been out on leave, but Harvey assured me, he knew someone. Glad he isn’t talking out of his ass for once.”

“I never talk out of my ass,” Harvey defends himself, nearly pouting. “All my bragging is true and deserved.”

“Of course,” Jessica sighs, but Mike can tell she is fond and he wonders how Harvey, as a Junior Partner, has managed to get the attention and apparent favor of the woman in charge. She turns her attention back to Mike, but says to Harvey: “Have you considered him for your little project?”

“My little project, will earn us millions,” Harvey defends, before turning incredibly smug, “And of course I have considered him.”

“You just wanted me to suggest it, because you knew I’d never sign off on this kid otherwise,” Jessica fills in a blank Mike hadn’t even noticed, looking amused, impressed and tired at the same time.

“Ah, you know me so well,” Harvey grins.

This, Mike thinks, is the perfect time to ask: “Uhm, what- what are you two talking about exactly? And what does that have to do with me?”

Jessica turns to Harvey, letting him elaborate. “I have a temporary job for you.”

~~

A/N:

16 is the age where you think you can be an adult and can have developed the stubbornness to try, not to mention the pride of doing it by yourself and not asking for help. It’s not a weakness, but were any of us smart enough to realize that at 16? No. If you are and you think so, please return in three to five years and if you can still confirm, congrats ur delusional (half-joking XP)

Also for someone who has been in New York, like three times and knows nothing about it, please forgive me, I am using Google Maps to try and figure out how realistic I’m making Mike’s deliveries lmao

#RR writing #suits fanfic #suits tv #suits #suits tv show #young mike ross #bike messenger mike ross #mike ross #protective harvey specter #harvey specter #jessica pearson #travis tanner has a cameo #louis litt #donna paulsen #trevor evans #Miracle Worker #Miracle Worker Part 2 #suits alternate universe #edith ross

[transmccall]

answering the questions from this.

feel free to answer yourself.

~~~

who is/are your comfort character(s)?

severus snape, marty mcfly, stiles stilinski, anakin skywalker, obi-wan kenobi, jonathan byers & michael from the good place + soooo much more.

lighter or matches?

can’t get either to work bc fine motor skills go brrr

do you leave the window open at night?

rarely

which cryptyd being do you believe in?

the real question is do they believe in me /j

what color are your eyes?

very dark brown

why did you do that?

do what??? lmao

hair-ties or scrunchies?

hair ties even tho i don’t use either

how many water bottles are in your room right now?

just the one, it’s reusable

which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee?

it depends on the day

would you slaughter the rich?

just call me robin hood /hj

favorite extracurricular activity?

writing ig??

what kind of day is it?

it’s a thursday lol

when was the last time you ate?

uhh about 4-5 hrs ago

do you love the smell of earth after it rains?

depends if it’s cold or humid but if former-yes

are you a parent? (all answers qualify)

cat dad (of 4) & dog uncle 🥺💜

can you drive?

bout that…

are you farsighted or nearsighted?

nearsighted

what hair products do you use?

uhhh, just shampoo lol. i prefer lush shampoo but i usually end up using typical brands. i don’t like gel in my hair and luckily i have hair that kinda just swoops into place ~

imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails?

i mean sure i’ll do it but my steadiness is crap

do you say soda or pop?

pop

something you’ve kept since childhood?

not my sanity lawl

real answer is childhood stuffies

what type of person are you?

a dork

how do you feel about chilly weather?

love sleeping in the cold but i prefer outside to have a bit of sunshine if it’s chilly so it’s not too cold. fall is my ideal season.

if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing?

looking at the stars?

perfume/body spray or lotion?

lotion bc allergies are so bad with the former

a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times?

usually Gay Moments with loved ones. no i will not elaborate >:)

about how many hours of sleep did you get?

uhhh, good question. prob around 7 hrs but severely interrupted coz insomnia a hoe

do you wear a mask?

depends on setting & how many people are close

how do you like your shower water?

scalding hot !

is there dishes in your room?

nope, one thing i’m good at. bothers me greatly to leave any.

what type of music keeps you grounded?

usually slow melancholy types

do you have a favorite towel?

i have a tiny fluffy soft one that can engulf me and it’s so chefs kiss

the last adventure you’ve been on?

gee i’m not sure what one considers an adventure but the last place i went was visiting my friend rj. before that was travelling to the states, towards the end of last year. by myself for the first time. :)

is there a song you know every word to by heart?

many! even ones i thought i’ve forgotten ages ago

what’s your timezone?

EST (eastern standard time)

how many times have you changed your url?

on this account only a few times but always came back to this url. my old account it had to be over 20 lol oops.

someone in your life, other than a relative, you’ve known for 10+ years?

lauren :) whose @ i have forgotten oops

a soap bar that smells good?

they all just smell like soap to me ? lol i only ever get the plain ones. but body wash is a diff story.

do you use lip balm?

hardly. i don’t like the texture.

did you have any snacks today?

yeh i had hersheys chocolate !

how do you take your coffee?

usually with caramel creamer

an app you frequently use besides this godforsaken site?

lol not proud to say but either reddit or facebook (rn purely for the groups i’m in)

what’s your take on spicy foods?

i can’t handle spicy food but some are good if they are mild and not overpowering.

you get a free pass to kill anyone, who is it?

lawl nice try fbi

can you remember what happened yesterday?

uhhh i gamed a lot? had a nap? idk what else. oh ! also had therapy.

favorite holiday film?

elf or christmas with the kranks

what was the last message you sent?

“nice bong” rofl

when did you first try an alcohol beverage?

accidentally did when i was super younger but intentionally i think around 15

can you skip rocks?

no! >:(

can i tag you in random stuff?

always, i love being tagged in things. :)

#wclfstar answers #wclfstar speaks #forgot to finish this! finished at 11pm feb 2 but scheduling to post for the 3rd

[lcandothisallday]

concept where jack and reader are at a party and they keep looking at each other until jack shoots his shot and maybe end up kissing??

hehe i love this😋❤️

Glancing your Way - Jack Harlow x f!reader

You walk into the party with your girl friend, grimacing as you felt the stuffy hot air and smell of weed and alcohol.

“Is this really where you want to be on a Saturday night?” you ask your friend and she nodded immediately. “Yes! I already told you it’s because Dan is here,” she replied. “So lighten up and try to have fun. For me?” she pouts.

You sigh and nod. You pull down on the bottom of your dress, attempting, well more like wishing that it would grow longer two inches. Your best friend Kara convinced you to wear it out since it ‘made your curves look amazing and overall made you look hot as fuck.’ Her words, not yours.

The second Kara spotted Dan, she beelined towards him which caused you groan and begin walking around in search of something not deadly to drink.

Meanwhile, Jack was sat at the couch, surrounded by his boys and a few girls trying so desperately to get his attention.

Jack was laughing at something Druski had said when he saw you cross the room at the very back, his eyes going wide slightly at how taken he was with you. He thought you were absolutely beautiful.

Feeling someone was looking your way, you glance over that way and you instantly make eye contact with Jack. Your cheeks heat up and you look away, fanning your face from the heat of the room. Jack smirked having seen your reaction, biting his lip as he focused his attention back on his group.

You couldn’t help yourself, every few minutes you’d glance over at where Jack sat, beyond infatuated with his confidence and pearly white smile. And every time you’d glance his way, he’d look back at you too with a smile thrown your way and giving you a wink.

“Dude-who do you keep looking at?” Druski asked with a laugh, looking in the direction Jack was looking at. “Ahhh I see…she’s fine as hell. Go talk to her.”

“You think?”

Urban scoffed playfully. “Y’all been eye fucking for a hot minute. Go talk to her.”

Jack nodded and stood up confidently, practically shrugging his arm away from the girls clinging to him before he made his way to where you stood.

“Hey pretty girl,” he hummed with a grin, his elbows resting against the island counter. You bite your lip and your cheeks heat up at hearing and seeing Jack approach you.

“Hi,” you smile back.

“Couldn’t help but notice that we kept making eye contact so I felt like it was courage enough to come up to you,” Jack explained. “You here alone?”

You shook your head before you looked around. “No-I came with a friend. Actually, it’s more like she dragged me here. She’s around here somewhere with some guy,” you say, pointing around before shrugging.

“Ahh I see,” Jack said, an amused smile on his lips. “So this ain’t really your scene?” he asked.

You nod, a shy and slightly embarrassed smile on your lips. “Yeah. I’m not a drinker and it’s like hot and sticky and loud here and I feel like I’ll get an infection somehow,” you breath out.

Jack couldn’t help but laugh at your rambling, offering his hand out to you. “Wanna step out for a bit?” he suggested. You can’t stop your grin as you take hold of his hand, your cheeks heating up from your shyness. “Um yeah.”

Jack leads you through the crowd of people partying until you two made it out to the front porch. The second you took in the breath of fresh air, you let out a content sigh. You turn to Jack with a smile, your hand still intertwined with his. “I’m Y/N by the way. I don’t think I caught your name,” you point out.

“I’m Jack.” The second you heard his name it was like everything clicked in your brain and your eyes widened. “Oh my god! No wonder why you looked so familiar to me!” you giggle. “I’ve heard some of your music…but I don’t think I’ve seen a photo or video of you in a while. You look a bit different,”

Jack scratched the back of his neck, his cheeks heating up as he nodded. “Yeah-I looked goofier back then—”

You instantly interrupt him, “I said you looked different. Not that you looked worse or ‘goofy’ before,” you correct him with a smile. “I always thought you were cute…especially with your glasses.”

Jack couldn’t help but grin hearing you say that. “Oh yeah? Maybe I’ll start wearing em more often just for you,” he mused.

You giggle, “that’s assuming you plan to see me more,” you question, a brow raised playfully. Jack juts out his lip as he nods, the smirk still evident on his features. “I mean--if you don’t mind,” he replies with a casual shrug. “I thought the eye fucking was enough evidence that I liked you.”

Your eyes widened and you immediately felt the heat rush to your cheeks at his little casual statement.  “Oh well I guess--jeez,” you breathed out, completely a stuttering mess which Jack found extremely amusing, a giggle even escaping him. 

“Y/N--I’m kidding,” he reassured with a smile still on his face. “I do like you though so I would like to continue seeing you,” he said.

You spent the next three hours sitting on the porch with Jack, talking about the most random things ever. You were still a flustered blushing mess which he kept pointing out was adorable. Meanwhile, you thought he was absolutely beautiful with his blue eyes and bouncy curls that were illuminated by the streetlamp. 

“Do you um...” Jack started, clearing his throat. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

You turn to look at Jack with an amused expression. “Wouldn’t have sat out here with you for the past three hours if I did,” you tease. Jack let out a breath as he nodded. “What about you?” you asked him. “Are you seeing anyone?”

He shook his head, “I mean...there’s been a few girls but nothing official. I don’t know if I’m the relationship type of guy,” he confessed with a chuckle. “Never been in love,” he shrugged.

“I've never been in love too. I thought I was at one point but when I looked back on it after the fact, I knew it wasn't love,” you explain. 

“Do you believe in soulmates and the stars aligning and all that weird shit?” Jack asked. You can’t help but giggle at his cynical expression. 

You think about his question for a moment before shrugging once again. “Yes and no? I don’t know. Part of me wants to believe it because it would be cool and all but I’ve never experienced anything close to it so how real could it be?”

Jack nods as he leans back on his hands. “Yeah I get what you mean. I think my parents are soulmates so I’m hoping I meet mine one day,” he chuckled. “Unless I’ve already met her,” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at you.

You scoff playfully before you giggle. “I’m sure you have considering how big your circle is—you just need to give them a chance—”

“I’d like to give us a chance,” he interrupts, leaning back up and getting closer to you, his left hand moving up to cup your cheek. “Let me take you out on a date?” he suggests.

You instantly felt your cheeks heat up as you look away, trying to hide your shyness and flustered affect he had on you. He gently guided your head back to look in his direction, the look in his eyes soft and comforting. “So this is coming from the guy that just said he doesn’t do relationships,” you joke.

Jack rolled his eyes and laughed softly before shrugging. “C’mon—what do you say? I know I got an affect on you, ma. Just give us-give me a chance?”

“I’d like that a lot,” you confirm with a smile.

Jack beamed with excitement before he liked his lips and took in a breath before asking, “may I kiss you?” You simply nod your head which prompted him to grin and lean in, softly planting his lips onto yours.

You kissed him back eagerly, your eyes falling closed as you took in the sensation of being so connected with him. As the make out session got more and more heated, his hands moved to rest on your hips, massaging the soft flesh. “You look so fucking amazing by the way,” he groaned into your mouth.

Your moment was interrupted when you heard people bust through the front door of the house onto the porch. “There you guys are!” they yell, making you and Jack jump away from each other, his face going so incredibly red from his friends catching him making out. Behind them, you see your best friend approach which caused you to groan and hide your face in your hands, knowing she was going to say some outta pocket shit.

“Oh my god! So this is where you went?! I thought you went home!” she exclaimed, an excited look on her face for you. “Please resume-God knows she needs to get laid.”

The boys snicker amongst themselves and start “oohing” teasingly, causing Jack to look at them with a stern expression when he felt you tense and turn to look away. “Do you guys need something?” he asked his friends with annoyance.

Urban shook his head, “nah man. We just wanted to know where you went. Didn’t mean to interrupt and all. Come find us when you’re done,” he said, forcing the other guys to leave with him. Urban knew that if the rest of the guys pulled anything else then Jack wouldn’t let him hear the end of it.

When Jack faced you again after everyone left the porch, his heart broke at seeing the tears collected in your eyes. “I’m really sorry about my friends—”

You shook your head before quickly wiping at your eyes. “Oh no. I’m more upset at what my friend said. She can be so outta pocket sometimes,” you frown. “You did nothing wrong, Jack,” you reassure him.

He takes the opportunity to intertwine his fingers with yours, giving it a light squeeze. “If you’re free then I’d like to take you out on a date tomorrow. I go back to Atlanta in a few days and I’d honestly rather see you again sooner than later.”

“That’s very little time for a girl to get ready for a date,” you hum playfully.

Jack smirked and brought his hand up to brush back some of your hair. “Sweetheart-you can show up in the bummiest outfit ever and I’d still think you’re fine as hell.”

You grin and pull his chin in, pecking his lips softly. “Thank you for turning this day around for me. And I can’t wait for our date tomorrow.”

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow request #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow drabble #jack harlow concept #harlow jack #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow smut #jackman thomas harlow #jackman harlow #jackharlow #jack harlow x you #jack harlow x y/n

[iambilliejeanok]

Threesome with shisui and itachi? Thank you

Warnings: 18 +, corruption kinks, overstim, smut, nsfw, Dacryphilia, pussy eating

(Image source)

Shisui was laying on the fluffy pink and white, cow print rug of your bedroom, resting his head on your large boba stuffy. He said it was good for his back.

Itachi sat on the small sofa behind him, his legs spread apart and his elbows resting on his knees as he skimmed through your pastel pink and purple, leather covered journal.

After fussing and crying over him giving it back you finally gave up, Itachi was much stronger than you physically, so when it came down to a fight that couldn’t involve jutsu since you were in the house, you had to resort to a normal fight, which he unrestrainedly won. Now you stood over at your dresser, not far from the Sofa Itachi sat on, Shisui laying on the floor Infront of him.

They looked so silly, two masculine, laid back men in a your cute, pastel themed room. One of them laying on your stuffies, another one snuggled under his arm, while the other man looked through your personal journal.

“Now let’s see what’s on your mind pup”, Itachi commented, referring to your nick name they both gave you when you were kids —since you liked dogs to a point where you would smell like them —before opening up your journal to land on a random page. Shisui chuckled, ready to hear the juicy tea from your little book. Itachi cleared his throat before he began reading, creating a complete mockery, trying to imitate your voice as he read.

“I can’t stop thinking about it,”, he read, your heart skipping a beat as you remembered the little secrets you wrote after that sentence. Shit.

“…, but I would love to si—”, Itachi read, but suddenly paused when he realised what he was actually about to read, his head slowly looking up to look straight at you, a devilish grin forming on his serious face.

“Oi, Itachi!”, Shisui irritably called, wondering why Itachi stopped reading. “Continue reading”, he said, shutting his eyes again so he could relax into your extra soft stuffy. You really had good stuffies.

“Here goes nothing then”, Itachi began, reading in his normal voice, only slightly deeper, “…,but I would love to sit on a man’s face. I think about it everyday”,

Shisui almost chocked on his spit, sitting up right to rest his elbows on his knees and stare at you in complete shock and pretend disapproval.

You rolled your eyes, your arms tightly folded across your chest, huffing like it was nothing that Itachi was spilling your dirty little thoughts out loud and Shisui was there to listen. How embarrassing.

“I think about what it feels like for that strong muscle in their mouths to taste my vulva and flick my clit. I think about what it’s like to have an orgasm like that, I-”, Itachi read but just had to stop, his hand dropping with the book still in it as he spoke, “You’re telling me you’ve never gotten ate?”, he nonchalantly asked, making you heat up in embarrassment.

“I have!”, you lied, Shisui snickering where he was sitting, loving all the drama surrounding you. And for some reason he also noticed how cute you looked standing there, in your black midi- skirt and your black mini tee, the word “Sweet”, stitched across your chest in a neon pink. Your beautiful chest making that word stand out just right. He definitely took notice at the size of the mounds on your chest. Why the fuck was he only seeing those for the first time today?

***

You guys were like best friends ever since you were kids, because your parents were all closely united.

Even to this day, in your early twenties, you were all still best friends.

Today your mother had invited the two men whom she had taken care of along with you when you were all kids, for lunch, all of you having already eaten, deciding to relax in your bedroom before heading out for training. Your bedroom was nice and spacious. Shisui also secretly liked getting to plop on the bed with your stuffies.

***

“If you have then why are you writing these silly little fantasies down in a book you don’t want anyone reading?”, Itachi asked you, cocking his head to the side to analyze your response.

Shisui was still taking in your body, also noticing your curves for the first time. That skirt was hugging you in all the right places damn!

“Because I like to document my experiences!”, you irritably said, trying your best to not raise your voice. You would not show Itachi that you were embarrassed. Never. You lifted a hand up to play with a coil from your hair, the loc stretching as you pulled it all the way down to the bottom of your breasts before you let go of it, the strand shrinking back to the same length as the rest of your curls and coils, two little buns at the top of your head while the rest of your hand stood out, your fro resting on your shoulders. You looked incredibly attractive right now.

“Oi, oi relax you two”, Shisui interrupted, a big, fat, mischievous grin on his face. You didn’t care to guess whatever that idiot was thinking about.

“Well since you’re so experienced why don’t you come show me how you like it?”, Shisui asked, earning himself a grin from Itachi.

What an idiot!

“Are you crazy?”, you blushed, trying to put up a front of confidence, while inside you felt pathetic.

“C’mon y/n”, Shisui said, “Don’t act like your dreams aren’t about to cum true”, he casually commented, him and Itachi snickering at his little pun, leaning back to lay on the floor again, getting his head comfortable on the big stuffy it rested on.

You gasped in shock. Why were they being so disrespectful towards you today? What did you do?

“Or you can just admit that you’re a pathetic and horny little virgin?”, Itachi teased, watching you frazzle up, your fingers fidgeting as you stood there, completely dumbfounded. Itachi always knew how to humble you at the end of the day, using that to mock you.

Out of habit, you accidentally bowed your head in shame, fiddling with your thumbs as you thought about how you’d respond. Now you’d shown Itachi that you were really just a nervous wreck.

“What’s taking you so long pup?”, Shisui asked, a hint of impatience in his tone. You look further down, feeling like you’d burn with embarrassment. You wished they would stop.

“Aw, our little pup has never done this before Shisui”, Itachi chuckled. Shisui sat up again, your entire being radiating nervous energy. Smiling Shisui decided to save you some heat. Itachi could be really mean sometimes.

“Don’t listen to Itachi pup”, Shisui spoke, “Look at me when I’m talking to you”, his deep voice stretching across the room, running right down to your pussy, causing a very uncomfortable ache. You lifted up your head up to look at him, feeling a sense of submission rise in you. You wanted to submit to Shisui, he was your best friend, someone you could trust with your life. Itachi and Shisui made you feel safe, even though they teased and mocked you. Shisui spoke again, your eyes locked on his while he spoke, “if riding my face is something you’d really like to experience I’ll give you the chance right now. I promise my tongue will feel amazing against your clit and you can swirl your hips around as much as you like. You can use me”

You didn’t know what to do, nervously tugging at your skirt and looking back down at the ground. “Y/n”, Itachi called, getting your attention fast. “Come sit pup”, he said putting his hand out to you.

Feeling your whole body freeze up while you were on fire, you took a step forward, taking another and another until you you placed your hand in his, his thumb immediately rubbing circles on your wrist, somewhat calming your nerves. A small action to show that he was still the Itachi who loved and cared for you.

Shisui lay down on the stuffy again.

“If you don’t like it at any point, just say the word and we will stop okay”, he softly spoke, looking up into your big eyes. “Okay”, you nodded, flinching when he let go of yours to tug at the waistband of your skirt. He couldn’t deny that that skirt did things to him today, things he couldn’t quite understand, considering the relationship you all shared. There was absolutely no reason for him to have felt that way, but now he knew what he was feeling and wanted to show you.

“It’s okay” he said, placing your journal down beside him to use his other hand, gently tugging and pulling at your skirt, until it it slipped off, Shisui picking it up and throwing it to the side.

Shisui immediately grabbed your leg, making you stand right over his face, his hands rubbing up and down your calves.

Itachi’s hands were also running over your skin, his eyes glued onto yours as he squeezed and rubbed your soft skin, the feel of your ass in his hands enough to drive him crazy, but he kept that concealed pretty well.

“Okay, go ahead sit”, he said, stirring you out of the delicious trans he put you in by rubbing you like that.

“Okay”, you said, not quite sure how to position yourself ontop of your friend, his hands coming up to manhandle you into the right position, drawing a moan from you, enjoying the feel of him gripping and pulling you.

Your knees rested on either side of his head, sharing the stuffy with him, his hands around your hips and lower back, forcing you down onto him.

You bit your lip hard when his nose rubbed against your puss, embarrassed when you realised he was deeply inhaling you.

Itachi recognized the look on your face, immediately grabbing your hands, forcing you to look at him, you were positioned right between his thighs and on top of Shisui’s face.

“Just relax and breathe”, Itachi said, leaning in closer and closer, until his soft lips met yours, sucking them for a little before forcing his tongue between your lips, causing you to softly moan into his mouth, absolutely relishing in the way his tongue felt moving around your mouth.

Shisui couldn’t tease himself any longer, his tongue coming out his mouth to take a long drag of your clothed puss, tasting your arousal through your panties.

You gasped into the kiss, stilling for a second, tensing your hips against the foreign feeling. You didn’t know how to feel about it. You thought it would feel amazing but now that you actually felt him lick you, you wondered if you could actually handle what you wanted.

“Hey, y/n”, Itachi called, distracting you from your thoughts when he sensed you worrying. You opened your eyes to look at him, your lips rubbing against his as he spoke, “Just let him explore your little cunny. Don’t be afraid, I promise you’ll feel so good”, he said, “I’m here for you to grab on okay”, he reassured you, helping you loosen up your hips again, Shisui taking another lick at your puss, his tongue running back and forth over you, maneuvering your hips to different angles so he could lick every part of pussy.

“Mmm, smell so good pup”, Shisui spoke, his words slightly muffled.

“Did you hear that pup”, Itachi said, watching you nod and blush, happy that you were sharing this vulnerable first moment with them and not some random, worthless scoundrel out there. You are too precious for that. This right here was how it’s supposed to be he thought.

Shisui shifted your panties to the side , finally exposing your slick heat. His tongue dipped in your vulva, dragging it up to separate your folds, flicking over your clit before running back down and dipping into your tight heat. Fuck you tasted so delicious, Shisui moaned in pleasure.

Breaking your kiss with Itachi your sharp moans almost turned into screams at the sudden exploration. The hot muscle of his tongue lapping at your womanhood, repeating the same action of roughly dragging his tongue up and down your sex.

“Ahhhhh my god” you whined, breaking out into a fit of moans as you struggled to adjust to the pleasure.

“Ooo”, Itachi moaned with you, grabbing your face in his hand to force you to look at him, your hands gripping onto his thighs as Shisui devoured you.

“Does that feel good puppy?”, Itachi asked, planting small kisses across your lips. “Y-yes!”, you whined, your hips bucking into his face to get him where you wanted the pleasure the most.

Shisui sensed your desire, holding your hips still to focus his tongue against your clit, rapidly flicking at the bud before he softly sucked on it, instantly breaking you.

Itachi watched how you crumbled so quick. “You’re so responsive sweety”, he said, grabbing your titty with his free hand, roughly squeezing it.

“It feels very good huh?”, he asked, watching you nod in his hand, a cute, desperate look decorating your face as you wheezed and screamed, the pleasure ten times better than you anticipated.

Itachi loved how dumb you looked, and they were just getting started.

Your moans grew more and more aggressive as Shisui sucked on your little throbbing bean, softly kissing and tugging at it, making your body erupt in a feeling more intense than you’d ever felt.

“Oh my god!!!!!”, you cried out, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your hands gripping onto Itachi’s thighs for dear life, your hips jolting ontop of Shisui, his strong arms holding you right down for him.

You’d never screamed this loud in your life, you weren’t really a screamer as a general fact, so it came off as a surprise to you and Itachi how you reacted.

“Yes, cum now, cum hard for us pup”, you heard a voice say, your world narrowing down to the intense wave of pleasure that washed over you. Your thighs now shivering ass you came, convulsing and shaking in the hold of your friends.

“There you baby yes”, Itachi praised you. “Such a good little pup”, he whispered in your ear, your moans now full blown screams as Shisui didn’t let up from attacking your clit, sinking one finger into your virgin hole, the stretch burning, but you couldn’t feel it as he overstimulated you, only breaking down at the prodding against your gspot.

You were so overwhelmed by the pleasure Shisui was pulling you under, that you had to scream for him to stop.

“Please not yet baby you’re almost there”, Itachi said to you, watching your body get closer and closer to the goal.

“Shisui, keep going she’s close”, Itachi called, cooing and comforting you through your thrashing and convulsing, unable to break away from Shisui holding you right there in his mouth. You felt like something was going to come out of you, like you were going to pee but explode with pee.

Itachi wrapped his arms around you to ease your thrashing, you were fucking up Shisui’s hard work and he didn’t like that. He was also happy to feel your soft body against his, your breast squishing against his chest.

Unable to communicate anything you simply let go, your pussy gushing all over Shisui, your screams guttural as you messed, your body convulsing before your friends, blacking out.

“Hey there puppy, such a good little girl”, Itachi praised you, cradling you in his lap, waiting for you to come back .

“There she is”, he said, when he saw your eyes open, looking up to be met with a handsome Itachi.

“Damn I must of went to hard on her”, Shisui admitted, running his hands behind his head and completely shirtless.

You tried to adjust to your surroundings, burying your head in Itachi’s chest again to gather your thoughts.

“Hey puppy”, Shisui called, easily scooping you up from Itachi’s lap. Come let’s get a little more comfortable, he said, walking you over to the bed, loving the way you clung to him. You were so cute, he felt a strong urge to protect you come over him, sinking his teeth into your shoulder to softly bite you, sitting down on the bed with you.

“Well since you’re a virgin we need to warm you up a little y/n”, Shisui said, manhandling you once again to lay down on your back between his legs, your legs spread wide open infront of him, your body completely bare, Itachi having long removed your little tee.

You felt so pathetic, at the mercy of your two, fully clothed friends. They always took the lead in everything, helping you tag along and you hated it. Ever since you were little, but now they were doing it again.

Opening your eyes, you left a dip in the bed, looking to see Itachi hover over you.

“Y/n, do you trust us?”, he asked, coming down to tug at your bottom lip, slowly pulling away. “Yes”, you moaned, uncertain of what they would do next, but trusted your best friends to make you feel as fucking amazing as they just did.

“Then close your eyes and relax for me okay sweetheart. Shisui and I are gonna play with your pretty little body for a while”, you heard, before you felt a sharp tug on your nipple, his mouth covering yours to devour you in a sweet kiss.

Shisui caressed your thighs,shying away from your fully exposed, pussy. He admired it, smiling as he watched you clench around nothing, moaning into Itachi’s mouth.

“Such a beautiful cunt you have here pup, I promise I’ll let you wrap around something else a little later on okay”, he spoke, bringing his thumb to press against your wet clit, slowly massaging the sensitive button in slow circles.

Your back instantly arched, Itachi, breaking the kiss to move down to your breast, latching onto a nipple to fulfill his desire, biting and sucking it hard, watching it perk up hard for him, the pain increasing the pleasure you felt between your legs, Shisui forcing them to stay apart as he slowly massages your clit, your moans like music to their ears.

You felt the same way you would when you were masturbating but just ten times more intense, like you weren’t doing it right all this time.

You impatiently whined, desperate and needy for your best friends. “Now now”, Shisui called, Itachi too busy hungrily sucking in your breasts. “Be patient for your orgasm y/n. Don’t get all greedy with me”, he warned you, adding more pressure to your clit and keep your thighs open.

“Uhhhhh! Yes! P-please”, you softly whimpered, feeling Shisui pull you closer to that paradise once again, whatever Itachi was doing to your chest driving you insane.

Your back arched as you came, enjoying the orgasm that surged through you, creating waves of pleasure to run through you, making you unconsciously shiver.

His thumb still stimulated you clit, making you moan a little louder, your poor pussy not coming down from its sensitivity.

“Shisui!”, you screamed when you felt him press his middle finger inside of you again, the long and thick finger resting when it was knuckle deep inside of you, gently prodding around until he saw your arch your back. “There it is”, he mumbled to himself, focusing on rubbing your gspot, his other hand rubbing your clit.

As the pleasure grew more and more intense, your thighs slowly closed up, Shisui growling before talking to you, “Keep your fucking legs open princess”.

He spanked your thigh hard, making you yelp, your orgasm almost drowning you as you got a hold of yourself again.

“Shut your legs again and I’m going to have to spank your thighs baby. Do you want that”, he asked, but all you could do was deeply groan in pleasure, his fingers rapidly flicking your clit while his finger picked up the pace on your gspot, earning Shisui a good couple squirts over his abdomen and face, not relenting from his actions until your vagina literally forced him out.

Itachi got some of your juices on his face too, abandoning your breasts to lick at your clit, softly sucking on it, Shisui holding your thighs apart as you violently came again, Itachi’s mouth still sucking your nub as you squirted all over Shisui.

When your whines became strangled screams, Itachi stopped, your entire body shuddering underneath the two men.

Part Two

#itachi x you #uchiha itachi x reader #itachi x reader #itachi smut #itachi imagines #shisui imagines #shisui smut #shisui x y/n #shisui x reader #kind of got tired of writing this. #itachi x reader x Shisui #Shisui x reader x itachi #naruto imagines