Some Strings Attached

Yours

A week later, Neil walks into your apartment carrying a fabric laundry bag with a bright smile. "Hey, buttercup."

You eye the bag as he kicks his shoes off. "Uh, Neil?" you ask.

"Yes?" he asks, looking up at you.

"Is your washer broken again?"

"Nope."

"Then why did you bring a bag of laundry over?"

"It's for you," he says, holding it out. Amused despite your confusion, you take the bag and open the drawstring. Sure enough, it's filled with several items of Neil's clothing, including his favorite purple sweatshirt. You continue to stare into the bag, chest tight. When you haven't said anything for a full minute, he says, "I just figured you'd want stuff with my scent for your—oh. Hey, now."

You'd dropped the bag and thrown yourself into his arms, burying your face into his chest. Neil doesn't hesitate in wrapping his arms around you and resting his cheek on top of your head. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you mumble. "Thank you."

"For bringing you my dirty laundry? I mean, if you like it that much, I have a crapload all over my bedroom floor."

"Oh, shut up, you putz," you say with a watery laugh as you pull away from him. His smile fills you with warmth as you snatch up the bag and turn to take it to your bedroom. As you pull each piece out and tuck it into the nest you'd been building for the last day and a half. Inhaling deeply, you realize there had been a mental itch in the back of your mind that Neil's scent was soothing smooth.

Stepping back, you examine your work with a critical eye, adjusting a few things here and there until you're satisfied. When you turn around, Neil's leaning against the door frame with an unidentifiable look on his face. "What?"

"I take it your heat will start soon?" he asks.

Wrinkling your nose, you glanced at the calendar on the wall. "Couple of days, no more than four."

When you go to move past him, he stops you, hand sliding around to cup the back of your neck as he draws you against his chest. His lips fit over yours with a soft glide, tongue slipping in to tangle with yours as his other hand slides up under your shirt. Hoisting you up, so you wrap your legs around his waist, Neil shifts until your back is pressing against the wall next to the door. His mouth leaving yours, Neil nibbles his way along your jaw until reaching the spot behind your ear.

"We should get going," he mutters between nips and licks that make you shiver. "'sposed to meet the others."

"You're right," you agree, your ankles locking tight behind him. "We shouldn't make them wait."

Neil sucks on your bottom lip, rolling it between your teeth until you whimper and tug on his hair. With a growl, he turns towards the bed and tumbles into it with you. "Fuck it, they can wait."

Your legs drop away from his waist as he leans up to tear his shirt off and toss it over his shoulder. Pushing your shirt and bra up, Neil's head dips and his mouth closes roughly over one of your nipples, sucking hard. He doesn't stay there long though, his mouth moving hotly down your body while he drags your leggings off your legs. You're attempting to get your shirt off when he laps his tongue in one long strip from bottom to top between your slit before he focuses on your clit.

When your fingers grip in his hair, tugging again, he lets out a deep, humming growl and the sound vibrates through your core and making your eyes flutter. Just before you're going to come, he pulls back and you whine in frustration as it frays away.

"Patience omega," he commands, flipping you over to your stomach and bracing over you so he can nose at your neck. "I can't believe I never noticed just how perfect you smell, pretty 'mega."