#hope whoever that guy manning the counter alone that day was is doing well. you saved me a little.

[lesamis]

feeling under the weather today so i made a big batch of miso soup despite the temperachures and as i was having the first sip of it this memory hit me of having miso soup for the first time? my dad and sister and i were in london (first time i'd ever been on a plane), i was maybe 14? and it was a bank holiday, so the only food option near our hotel was this single heroic sushi place that was open. i'd never had sushi, i did have an anxiety disorder the size of the moon, and i was notoriously scared to eat when traveling. my dad's attempt to get me to consume something of nutritional value was to foist his cup of miso soup onto me, which i - very reluctantly - tried, and immediately fell in love with. it was warming and new and a little bit sweet and i don't think any other food would have done for me in that moment. i finished my dad's cup, i finished my sister's cup, and the guy behind the counter brought us a third cup which i also finished. he didn't even let my dad pay for it. love was and continues to be stored in the miso soup

[wonustars]

𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘓𝘪𝘱𝘴 𝘛𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘦

Beomgyu Vers. | Yeonjun Vers.

Summary: You find Soobin alone at a cafe after he's been stood up. You can't help but comfort him, leaving you both crushing on each other after. Days later you ask him to study with you, but how much studying did you two actually end up doing?

Reposts are always appreciated/encouraged!! Tumblr works on reblogs not likes, Thank you for your support :)

Tags: friends? to lovers, blond!soobin, nonidol!soobin, university au, soobin is a very smart man, kinda more like aquaintances, the reader is kinda obsessed w soobin, soobin is also kinda obssesed with the reader, a little fluffy? yeonjun cameo (hint hint)

Warning: smut mdni! soft dom/dom!soobin, sub!reader, afab!reader, cum eating, mutual masterbastion (?), dacryphilia, public sex, bigdick!soobin, they have sex in the library..., pet names, cream pie, unprotected piv sex, they also have sex on top of a desk lmao, multiple positons, oral (m. receiving), throat fucking, breast play (lmk if i missed any!)

Wordcount: 4215

Note: you all voted for Soobin so i'm here to deliver! I hope you all like this one as much as the Beomgyu one! comment or send me an ask if you want to be apart of the taglist!! Yeonjun will be next if this one does well :)

happy reading~

Soobin sits at a table with two cups of coffee, except there is no one there but him, and the worker behind the counter. Unfortunately, his date had stood him up for Choi Beomgyu. He feels a little embarrassed and sad, he thought this date was going to go well. This was when you walked in, the bell on the door signalling your arrival. You look around and see that no one else is in here, it was too late to have a cup of coffee but you didn’t care. You’ve been craving that iced matcha latte all day. 

After grabbing what you needed, you’re about to leave until you see Soobin sitting alone. You recognized him from your biology class and you two had mutual friends but didn’t talk much. The window he was leaning against was fogging up from his breath, he looked upset and deep in thought. Your eyes immediately turned to the two cups left on the table, but there was no one else there. Putting two and two together you can’t help but feel guilt stir at the bottom of your stomach. He looks like he needs a bit of cheering up, you thought. 

“Hey, Soobin!” You call out, waving your hand. Walking towards him with a joyful bounce, you reach his table and take a seat across from him. Soobin moves so that his head isn’t leaning across the window anymore. He gives you a half-hearted smile looking down into his lap. 

“Hey y/n, what are you doing here?” He asks you, but he doesn’t sound so interested. Understandably, his mind is wandering to his date who went home with another man. The music of the cafe is gleefully ringing through the speakers, a stark comparison to Soobin’s gloomy attitude. 

“Oh you know, just wanted to get in my daily matcha fix,” you answer with a bright smile, trying to help offset his negative mood. Giving you that same sad smile, your heart aches. Soobin looks like a kicked bunny and you just want to see his cute smile again. His blond hair reflects the fluorescent light and it mimics a halo over the top of his head. You find him so endearing that you want to curse out whoever decided to stand him up like this. There was only one way to go about it, you’ll just have to tell him you know why he's so upset.

“I know you got stood up, it’s a little obvious Soob, but whoever they are, they’re stupid. I would kill to go on a date with a guy as kind as you,” you reassure him. 

Looking up at you, his eyebrows are raised, he looks like you just told him he won a million dollars. He was so handsome, especially with the way his heart-shaped lips curled into the most adorable smile.  

“Really?” he asks, sounding hopeful.

“Of course Soobin, you’re a great guy and not to mention tall and attractive. Don’t let this one date let you get down,” giving him another soft smile, you stand up from your seat and leave the cafe. 

Walking back to your place your mind can’t help but drift back to Soobin. This was probably the first time the two of you spent a good chunk of time alone. You’ve never taken an honest good look at him until now, but you found him to be so attractive. The way his dimples would appear when he would smile, and oh god, his lips. His lips looked so soft and they were the perfect shade of pink too. You’re smiling like a madman walking back to your apartment but you can’t help it. Soobin seemed like such a nice guy, and from what you’ve heard around campus he wasn’t terrible in bed either.

*·῾ ᵎ⌇So kiss me, kiss me, kiss me and tell me that I'll see you again 

It’s been a few days since you last saw Soobin, but he still plagues your mind. A once acquaintance has become a stupid little school girl crush.

 Currently you’re studying in the library for another biology test. With that you suddenly remember who is also in your biology class. A small smirk dances along your lips as you pull out your phone. 

me: hey what's soobin’s number again? 

yj <3: y? dont tell me you’re tryna fuck him too y/n.. 

You scoff at Yeonjun’s comment. Yeonjun being the one to say it is even more offensive, especially knowing his history. Being comfortable with having an active sex life did not mean you wanted to fuck everyone you found attractive. You’re a hot and young university student, sleeping around was not a bad thing. Even though you can’t seem to stop thinking about Soobin in that way, that doesn’t mean you’re lying about needing help with biology. Rolling your eyes, you answer Yeonjun’s question. 

me: no.. just need help studying lol 

yj <3: fine. here. 

*yj <3 shared a contact with you*

Once you had Soobins number you couldn’t help but smile in triumph. Having an excuse to spend time with him seemed to be the best way to get to know him. And maybe lead to something more…

me: hey soobin it’s y/n! i was wondering if u wanted to study in the library with me for the bio test this fri? 

soob: hi! sure i’d love to actually, see u in ten. 

Looking down at your screen; your smile reached your eyes. You turn off your phone and place it screen side down, anticipating his arrival.  After all those days of thinking about Soobin, you’re finally able to spend some alone time with him. 

*·῾ ᵎ⌇so sweet when your lips touch mine

Students have left for their next class and it seems to only be you in your secluded section right now, maybe you’ll even be able to have a conversation in between studying. This would be the perfect time to get to know him better. While anxiously waiting for him you start to organize all your things mindlessly. Your highlighters all in a straight line and your laptop in front of you already on the first page of the lecture slide. This is probably the first time you catch yourself getting nervous about a man’s presence. You weren’t sure what type of student Soobin was but you knew he was smarter than average, so you wanted to look equally as studious.

From the corner of your eye, you see a fluffy blond head of hair heading your way. He was dressed exactly like you, a hoodie and baggy jeans complimenting his frame, making him look so good despite the casual attire. Sitting up straighter you pretend to write down notes. While doing so you hear the chair beside you scrape its legs along the floor. You turn your head beaming up at the blond boy beside you. He gives you that same dimpled smile that you’ve come to love, and your legs can’t help but feel like jelly. 

“Hey Soobin, it's been awhile,” your body is now turning to face him, a shy smile finds its way across your lips. He’s already looking at you and you feel your knees weaken even more. Taking out his own laptop and notebook, he responds. 

“Yeah it has, I'm sorry I never reached out to you after the cafe. I’ve been wanting to say thank you for that day though. You really helped me lift my spirits after a shitty situation.” 

Soobin places a hand on your shoulder, and you can’t help but notice how large his hands are. Your mind starts to drift; now you can’t help but think about what they would look like on your body. The way they could easily wrap around your neck, or how big of a handprint it would leave on your ass. Mentally you’re shaking yourself trying not to let your thoughts get ahead of you. A part of you would be lying if you said you weren’t secretly turned on by him right now. He’s just larger than you in so many ways, feeding into your size kink even more. 

“Anytime Soob, I have a feeling you would have done the same thing for me anyways,” shrugging it off like it's no big deal.

 It was hard to focus on the conversation without wanting to glance at his hands every other second. As he turns back to his work, he lets you know that if you have a hard time with the material you could just ask him about it. Reciprocating his smile you turn back to your work as well. 

After an hour or two of studying you end up getting stuck on a practice question. You peer over to Soobin who’s scribbling down some notes from the lecture recording diligently. If you knew this is what he looked like while studying you wouldn’t have told Yeonjun that you’re not trying to sleep with him. The way he scrunches his eyebrows in concentration while biting his bottom lip was driving you insane. Subconsciously you’re rubbing your legs together, you just couldn’t help but think about what his lips feel like on yours. 

“Do you think you could help me with this question? I’ve been trying to do it for the past thirty minutes now,” you ask him and his eyes leave his notes. 

“Yeah of course I can,” Soobin leans closer to you to take a look at your paper. He's so close you can feel his breath on your cheek. Trying to inhale steadily you end up getting a whiff of his cologne. If you weren’t wet already, you’re basically a river down there now. The smell of his cologne was like soft laundry and a hint of musk and vanilla, it was so refreshing. If you could, you would want to spend the whole day just breathing in his scent. 

Soobin leans even more closer, dirty thoughts are still running rampant in your mind. The unsure feeling of if he reciprocated your feelings was gnawing your insides, so you haven’t made your move. 

Your faces are practically touching at this point, you can feel the vibration of his voice as he tries to explain the question. If you turned your head the two of you would be kissing, so cautiously you keep your eyes on your paper. His large hands pointing to the words you’ve written down, but you can’t hear a thing. The way his hands are moving and how it’s practically as big as your page is making your heart palpitate.  

A pair of eyes now on you, Soobin awaiting your reply to his little explanation. Craning your neck to look back at him you can’t help but look at his lips. Realzing what you had just done, you look back up at his eyes. To your surprise he’s looking at your lips too. The feeling in your stomach tightens and you know this is your chance. 

“Fuck studying for biology,” Soobin beats you to it, he takes your head in his large hands and pulls you in for a kiss. It's a heated, passionate kiss and you moan at the feeling of how good he feels against you. Especially with the way his large hand is holding onto your face. You feel dizzy, everything happening so fast, and this doesn’t feel the same way it usually does. Soobin kisses you so delicately, making you feel like you’re on cloud nine. But at the same time, there's so much passion in his actions and you can tell he’s kissing you with so much emotion. 

Gripping your waist now he stands up, lifting you and placing you on the edge of the empty part of the desk. Immediately your legs open to let him stand between them, you gasp into the kiss as you feel his bulge brush against your clothed core. Soobin takes this opportunity to deepen the kiss; while he works his tongue into your mouth you let your hands wander into his hair, tugging and grabbing it, causing him to groan. 

“You don’t know how much I’ve been thinking about this,” pulling away, a shocked expression washes over your face. You weren’t expecting him to feel the same way you did, and it makes you feel even more turned on. 

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that day in the cafe,” you respond as Soobin takes his time planting kisses against your jaw then your neck. Letting out soft sighs of pleasure, Soobin slowly moves back up to your face, smiling into the kiss. His hands find their way to the hem of your hoodie, going under to feel your every curve of bare skin. High on Soobins scent and his touch, you move away from the kiss to pull the hoodie off your body. 

“Please touch me Soob, I want you so bad.” you beg him, giving him an innocent look despite the filth that’s spewing from your mouth. He looks at you with so much lust that you can feel your heat dampen even more. There's a giddy feeling fluttering in your stomach, you were not expecting your study session with him to take such a turn but you’re not complaining. Soobin doesn’t need you to repeat yourself, he’s now back to kissing you with more energy than before. While he’s kissing you he places his hands over your bra cladded chest, feeling you up as much as he can. You’re moaning into his mouth again, not caring about who can hear. 

Moving his hands to your back, he unclasps your bra, swifty removing the material from your body. He takes one of your nipples into your mouth, swirling his tongue and using his teeth to lightly nip at your hardened bud. He doesn’t leave your other breast unattended, giving it the same amount of attention as the other. Hands in his hair again, gripping onto him for stability and out of pleasure. Reluctantly pulling away, he can't help but admire the sight before him. You look so good, your eyes lidded with lust and your lips are swollen from kissing him. He's so hard he could cum just looking at you, then you say something that almost actually made him cum in his pants. 

“Can I suck your dick?” you ask so politely, how could he refuse? Nodding his head his mouth dry with anticipation; while you’re already hopping off the desk and lowering yourself on your knees. Soobin convinced he really could cum untouched, especially with the way you’re looking up at him. This angle of you is just simply so addicting. He’s thinking about whether or not he’ll get to look at you from this angle again. The thought of it making his stomach tighten with excitement.

Cautious with your movements you slowly removed Soobin’s pants. His boxers followed and they pooled to his ankles. When you say he’s big it's almost an understatement, his dick slapping against his stomach as you set it free. The gasp you let out doesn’t go unnoticed and Soobin smiles down at you while gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail. You take his length into your hands and rub the precum over his tip. A groan comes out of Soobin’s mouth, his head falling back, gripping your hair tighter. You’re smiling to yourself, enjoying the way he looks as you pleasure him. 

“Fuck you’ve barely touched me and I already feel like I’m gonna cum,” his voice straining, another groan leaves his lips as you gather spit to lubricate his cock. Teasingly you pepper kisses onto his tip, his hands raking through your hair, holding onto you tighter. You decide to take your time, relishing in the way his eyes scrunch closed as you give his cock kitten licks. 

“Baby I can’t take this anymore, gonna fuck your mouth okay?” before you could say anything your mouth is filled with his dick. A muffled moan comes out of you, his hold on you like a vice. Soobin moves his hips back and forth, your throat trying to take all of him. The tip of his member is hitting the back of your throat, and his eyes are rolling to the back of his head as he feels you gag on him with each thrust. You could feel every vain on your tongue and the way his length is twitching in your mouth, seconds away from release. 

“I really don’t wanna cum like this,” Soobin says as he removes his still hard cock from your mouth. You get up from your knees, giving him a kiss on the lips before stepping back to take off your jeans. He’s watching you while stroking himself, and you feel your core dripping wetness down your inner thigh. Sitting back on the table, you lock your eyes with his. The look hes giving you makes you want to let him fuck you for everyone to hear. It was a miracle you two didn’t get walked in on yet. You open your legs, your hand travelling to play with your clit. Then you insert two fingers inside your wet cunt, pumping in and out. The sound of your sopping heat is making Soobin go feral, especially with the gaze you’ve set on him while you finger yourself.

“Fuck me Soob, please?” you ask so sweetly almost as if you’re asking for the most mundane request. As if you’re asking for anything but to get fucked by him right now. He groans as he watches you take your fingers out of yourself; you then bring your fingers up to your mouth, sucking on them with your eyes still trained on Soobin’s cute face. Still stroking himself, while making his way to you; he looks at you so mesmerized by how dirty you are, and fuck it’s such a turn on. He never imagined you in this way until the night of the cafe. His seemingly innocent crush turned into something more. 

“Be carful what you ask for love, because I’m gonna fuck you till you’re crying for me to stop.” he says at a volume barely above a whisper, his breath fanning your ear. You can’t help but whisper an equally filthy response, your arms now around his neck. 

“I want your cock inside me, want you to see your cum dripping out of me after,” you moan into his ear and he strokes himself up and down your drenched slit, your legs wrapped around his hips tightly.  Without a second to spare he pushes himself inside, a moan leaving his lips as he slides in inch by inch. The breath is knocked out of your lungs, you feel all of him fill you up, and he's not even in all the way yet. 

“Feels so good Soob,” the words are falling out of your mouth in moans, the feeling of him inside you overwhelming your senses. He starts to thrust into you with merciless speed, the sound of skin slapping echoing within the empty library. At this moment you don’t care about who can hear you, all you can think about is how good Soobin’s cock feels inside you. 

“Y-you’re so tight sweetheart, gripping me so fucking tight,” hes groaning into the dip of your shoulder and your neck, leaving love bites as he continues pumping himself in and out of you. 

The only thing you can do is keep on moaning while you hold onto his shoulders for dear life. You look down to see his cock slide in and out, a creamy white ring covering the base of his cock. It turns you on even more, your cheeks blushing at the sight. Suddenly you feel a loss of contact, Soobin has taken himself out of you, he’s breathing heavily while sweat starts to form on his forehead. Before you could whine about it, he takes you off the desk flipping you over. He forces you to spread your legs before shoving his cock back inside you. 

Even though you yelp at the sudden push into your wet pussy, you relax as the pleasure starts to come over you once again. Soobin loves the sound of your insides squelching from the way his dick is fucking you. Especially loving the feeling of his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust. He doesn’t know how much more he can take but he's on a mission to make you cum before he does. 

Lifting you off the desk again he wraps one hand around your waist, the other one snaking its way down to your clit. The feeling of his fingers rubbing circles into your sensitive bud has you seeing stars. Your bent over slightly still, Soobin able to continue fucking you while he gets you closer to the edge. 

“‘M gonna cum soon, don’t stop Soobin please.” you’re crying now, tears of pleasure running down your cheeks. He really wasn’t lying when he said he was going to fuck you till you were crying. 

“Cum for me baby,” is all he says. 

You’re saying his name over and over again, your moans now muffled by his hand. His hand is so large it covers almost all of the bottom half of your face. He’s towering over you making you feel so small. Your eyebrows strewn together tightly and your high is taking over you. Soobin is still fucking you from behind, his own orgasm slowly reaching the horizon. The muffling of your moans and the sound of your wet cunt getting fucked is still bouncing off the library’s bookshelves. 

“Please cum inside me, fill me up please please please.” you beg him, tears still running down your checks. Soobins moves you so you’re bent over the desk, his cock twitching in you. His thrusts begin to get sloppy but his pace is still at an unrelenting speed. Then you finally feel his hot cum spurt inside you, not planning to stop fucking you any time soon. Soobin’s groaning above you, his eyes glued to the sight of him fucking his cum back up into you. Although you're still recovering from your orgasm you can help but meet his hips as he keeps going. 

You’re whining as his balls slap against your clit, it was too much pleasure but it feels so good that you don't want to stop. Soobin is still hard inside you, coaxing another orgasm out of the both of you. 

“You got me so hard baby, gonna have to fuck you again okay?” Soobin’s grip on your hips is even tighter than before. You just keep meeting his hips over and over again, wanting to feel the rush of cumming again. Behind you, Soobin is moaning shamelessly as he continues on fucking you, his thrusts slower and lazier than before. 

You’re a lot more sensitive than now, the feeling of your second orgasm reaching you quickly. Soobin can tell you’re about to cum again because of how tightly you’re gripping his cock. He speeds up slightly wanting to reach his high with you. 

“Mmfph f-fuck,” you whimper as you feel the band in your stomach snapping once again. 

Soobin’s cum is filling you up again, some of it starting to run down your inner thighs. He looks down at your hole once more, your pussy spent and swollen from his large cock. Smiling to himself, satisfied, he finally releases his dick from your cunt. 

“That was so good,” you say as you turn around, taking some of the cum running down your legs and putting it in your mouth. Soobin looks at you with shock, his tired dick twitching even after all that had happened. 

“I would definitely go for one more round but I feel like we’re about to get kicked out soon.” He breathes, a hand running through his hair. You laugh and pull him in for another kiss. He immediately reciprocates even though he’s exhausted. 

“We can always continue this another day, maybe somewhere more private,” you suggest as you pull away from the kiss. He smiles at you with those adorable dimples once again, looking down at you he can’t help but feel warmth fill up his chest. You just looked so good,  hair all dishevelled, pink cheeks and swollen lips. Thinking to himself, he comes to the conclusion that wants to see it more often, and hopefully you feel the same way. 

“Lets clean you up and get out of here,” he replies, kissing your forehead so lovingly, as if he wasn’t fucking you like a whore a few moments ago. 

You both clean up, put on your clothes and pack your things away. Bidding each other good bye with a sweet kiss and a promise to text each other when you both reach home. 

As you watch him walk away you pull out your phone, texting Yeonjun while heading out of the library. 

me: ok maybe I did wanna hook up with him :p 

yj <3: i fucking knew it!! facetime me when u get home

me: okay fine! only cuz ure the one who gave me his number

After all the shameless sex you had, you can’t help but smile shyly thinking about the next time you and Soobin will be able to see each other. 

© wonustars

[cuddlyscribe]

Yay requests are back! Can't tell ya how much I've missed your writing Hon, hope you been taking care!

Okay so back on my Kazuya train (Can't get enough of this dilf!) I wanna see him jealous! Like he has no reason to be loving femdom s/o is obviously into him and him alone but I have a need for jealous cutie, and to reassure said jealous cutie 😏😏😏 SFW and NSFW if possible please and thank you! 💙

hello my dear!! that is so kind of you to say, I've been doing well and am finally getting a chance to relax! hopefully these lil headcanons will spice up your day! 🖤

[TEKKEN MASTERLIST]

Oh man, you wanna talk jealous? I'm pretty sure that Kazuya invented the word. And if he didn't, he sure as hell owns it.

I hope that you like a jealous s/o, because when the feeling strikes him, you will know about and truly get to enjoy everything that comes with it.

Kazuya isn't aggressive with you and doesn't take anything out on you; he trusts you with his life and truly believes that you can do no wrong.

It's just other people that he does not trust. Kind of to be expected considering his experiences.

If you guys are out and jealousy starts to boil over in Kazuya, he will stand very close to you. Closer than he already was.

He will keep his hand firmly on your waist and give perhaps the most terrifying death stare to whoever has dared to invade your space.

And you won't even have to look at Kazuya to know that he's feeling jealous. All you have to do is look at how everyone else is reacting; if they're sweating, you know what's up.

But for the most part, Kazuya saves his strongest emotions for when you two are alone.

Though he could easily grab you and kiss you for everyone to see, he doesn't even think they're worthy of getting to see the two of you like that.

His vulnerability is saved only for you!

spice under the cut!

With the absolutely carnal energy that is radiating off of Kazuya, I am well and truly sure that you will be running home with excitement, LOL.

Kazuya is probably his roughest when he's jealous. Most of the time he will be as gentle as you want him to be (or not), but when he feels jealous he just has this pent up energy that he needs to express.

Please speak up if you don't like it because this man will fuck you SO hard you will be needing crutches for the rest of the week.

He will happily slam the front door shut when you get home (by some miracle it does not fly off the hinges) and bend you over the counter before you can even utter a word.

Kazuya will growl in your ear about how badly he wants you and that he's been so hard for you all night. There's no one else that can sate him, not a soul but you.

He will take his time with you, peeling each layer of clothing off so slowly that it'll have you moaning and panting for him to just hurry up...

And once you're all undressed for him, he will take you on every surface in the house. Counter's a given, dining table, bathroom sink, you name it he will fuck you against it.

He'll just kiss his way up and down your stomach and along your breasts and just revel in how you scream for him. Please tell him how good his cock is making you feel because it's all for you.

You moaning his name is all the reassurance he needs~

[whorelyyy]

Drunk crying at the bar is totally a normal & well adjusted thing to do, right?

Raz, fueled by a caffeine-induced buzz from unpacking well past midnight, found herself wide awake. She thought all her hard work deserved a reward, so she ventured to one of Oasis's only bars, The Watering Hole. The bar was walking distance from her new place, so she figured she could treat herself to a few drinks and not have to worry about driving. When she reached the bar, it was quiet. She ordered a vodka soda, a simple yet satisfying reward for her hard work.

Sipping her drink, she scanned the bar, taking in its plain, lackluster atmosphere. Was this a typical Wednesday night here? With only a handful of patrons, including herself and the bartender, the place felt lonely. As someone tinkered with the jukebox, she braced herself for the predictable twang of a pro-USA country anthem. To her surprise, the familiar chords of The Mountain Goats' "Up the Wolves" filled the air.

“How depressed do you have to be to play The Mountain Goats at the bar?” she whispered to herself, her irritation mounting with every note. The sheer absurdity of it made her angry, prompting her to question the sanity—or lack thereof—of whoever dared to play such an offbeat choice. “What a cry for help…” she whispered to herself, finishing her drink.

As the song played on she unconsciously found herself singing along, muscle memory from playing the song on repeat when she was younger and much more depressed.

“There's gonna come a day when you'll feel better, you'll rise up free and easy on that day and float from branch to branch, lighter than the air. Just when that day is coming, who can say? Who can say?”

As she choked out the last line, tears welled in her eyes. Damn it, this was the last thing she needed. No dredging up the past, just forward, always forward.

She angrily brushed away her tears, refusing to let some damn goat band ruin her night. Hell-bent on making the most of her hard-earned celebration, she ordered another vodka soda, this time a double. The bartender, with her generous pour, swiftly complied, and Raz welcomed the extra dose of liquid comfort. Yet, as she sipped her drink, her mood soured further when the same guy rose to select another song, this time he chose "No Children" by the Mountain Goats.

“You’re fucking kidding me.” She fussed loudly.

The guy who played the song glanced her way, his eyes carrying a haunting emptiness. He offered no emotion, no acknowledgment, just drank his beer and crooned along to what can only be described as the epitome of despair. He kept his gaze locked on Raz before exchanging words with the bartender. Behind the counter, the woman swiftly filled four shot glasses with vodka. Uninterested in witnessing a man drown his sorrows, Raz turned her attention to her phone. No new messages. Not that she should be surprised; he had made sure she was alone right until the end.

“Can’t have you running off and telling someone our business, my business.” echoed in her head.

She shuddered, forcefully suppressing the memory. Before Raz could grasp the situation, two shots materialized before her. The bartender gestured toward the man orchestrating tonight's gloomy playlist as she darted off to serve another patron. Locking eyes with the man, he raised his glass, nodded, and downed the first shot in one swift motion, followed by the second. His gaze bore into her, waiting for her to join in.

She knew better and was well aware of the risks of accepting drinks from strange, depressing men in bars, but in that moment, she couldn't summon the energy to care. Offering the man a faint, uneasy smile, she knocked back both shots. Appearing somewhat satisfied, he returned a sad smile before turning his attention back to his beer.

“And I hope when you think of me years down the line you can't find one good thing to say and I'd hope that if I found the strength to walk out, you'd stay the hell out of my way.”

The lyrics slammed into her like a freight train, shaking her to her very core. Unable to hold back, she crumbled under the weight of her emotions, tears streaming down her cheeks. Wonderful. What a fantastic first impression she was making. Hastily, she fled to the solitary bathroom in the bar. She refused to let this moment define her introduction to anyone in Oasis, not even some depressed weirdo at the bar.

Struggling to regain control, she attempted to calm her racing thoughts, grasping for stability. Counting five things she could see, smell, touch, and taste, she fought to ground herself. Just as she started to catch her breath amid her broken sobs, a knock reverberated through the door, shattering the peace she had managed to build.

"Hey, everything okay in there?" A low, gentle voice drifted through the door.

"I'm fine," she snapped back, her tone sharp with irritation.

"Doesn't sound fine," the voice persisted.

"I said I'm fine!" she practically yelled. "These songs are just fucking awful."

"Apologies for the tunes," the voice admitted. "I chose those songs. Looks like we're both drowning in the same melancholy. Let me grab you another drink? Misery loves company."

“No.” she said firmly, “please leave me alone.”

No response. Thank god he understood. She was in no place to make new friends, no matter how desperately she craved them. The longing to rely on someone other than herself was strong, but this wasn't the place, and she wouldn’t find that here and certainly not in some pathetic man singing sad songs at the bar on a Wednesday night.

She collected herself, giving her reflection a quick once-over in the mirror. It was hard to tell she'd just been a mess of tears, but why did the room feel like it was spinning? Exiting the bathroom, her vision blurred intermittently, not from tears this time, but from the bartender's generous pours. It was time to call it a night; crying and blacking out her first time out in Oasis was not the reputation she wanted. With unsteady steps, she made her way to the bar to settle her tab. Noticing the man from earlier was gone, she shrugged it off, too dazed to dwell on it. The bartender informed her that her drinks had been paid for. Strange, but she lacked the focus or energy to inquire further. All she wanted was to get home.

She stumbled her way home, unlocking the door to her beautiful new space. Unpacking had been a nightmare, but she couldn't deny her adoration for what she’d created here. Collapsing onto her bed, exhaustion didn't quite claim her yet. Opting for distraction, she reached for her phone, mindlessly scrolling through TikTok. What felt like a only 15 minutes turned into an hour of aimless consumption—reviews of eye cream, teasers for her favorite band's new album, snippets from her favorite TV shows, and insane nonsensical memes. The mindlessness was a welcome escape until a video of three childhood best friends, set to Alex Olsen's "someday i’ll get it" triggered tears for the third time that night. The crushing weight of loneliness consumed her, leaving her feeling utterly isolated. No friends, no family, no one to love, support, or uplift her. She was strong, but she was exhausted. Yearning for tenderness, for affection, for rest, she sobbed, drowning in her sadness and intoxication. She had to get these feeling out of her head, and Raz found the best way for her to do that was journaling. She reached for her laptop where she kept an anonymous personal blog, desperately needing to get this aching feeling out. In her depressed and inebriated state, she failed to realize she'd opened the wrong page…

PREVIOUS│NEXT

The songs mentioned throughout the update:

[cyvmints]

flower

Currently, Yoongi wants to tear the hair from his head and shove it down his throat. A bit graphic, yes, but these are his feelings; feelings of mortification and embarrassment.

How could he be so, so flappy?

The mission was supposed to go up to the man behind the counter, say hi, maybe do some smooth talking for a bit, and then order flowers.

It had taken him nearly ten minutes to gather his courage and go inside the flower shop. Ten fucking minutes that he'll never get back.

All for him to walk up to the counter, stutter about how the shop keeper's pink hair is very cute and then clam up with a muttered apology and then proceed to walk out of the shop.

Yoongi feels bad for the shopkeeper who had to go through such an ordeal. If only Yoongi could send him flowers as a proper apology but he. Can't. Even. Order. Flowers. Properly.

Because he can't get a grip and turns to jelly when he's in front of the man with the pink hair.

Yoongi has yet to find out his name but Yoongi thinks he might be an angel sent from heaven.

Too bad Yoongi has contracted a disease that prevents him from acting normal in front of said angel.

He sighs as he decides to just go to the opening of Jin's new restaurant empty handed. He'll probably get an earful from his hyung about bringing gifts. Well, he'll cross that bridge when he gets there.

-

Yoongi did indeed get an earful. But it wasn't that bad. Just a finger pointed at him in accusation and then a pat on the head after jokingly telling him that he now owes his hyung a bottle of wine.

Now, Yoongi was off to the side, quietly drinking his glass of champagne and hoping to whichever god exists that no one approach him and start talking about the weather.

"Umm, hi."

Someone smite him with lightning. He takes another sip from his glass and gathers energy to turn to whoever decided that he would make a good conversational buddy.

And that was Yoongi's first mistake: turning to the stranger with an annoyed look in his eyes.

Because right beside him was none other than the man he had embarrassed himself in front of earlier that day.

And of course, Yoongi chokes on his drink.

"Oh my god, are you-oh gosh," the stranger steps closer and his hand hovers over Yoongi's back.

Yoongi coughs and tries not to turn red when he notices some people are staring at them.

Today is just going really swell.

When he finally stops coughing, he straightens and tries his absolute best not to blush even further when he sees the stranger again who's now looking at him worriedly.

"Sorry-- 'bout that," Yoongi grumbles.

Is it just Yoongi or is the man with really pretty pink hair trying not to smile?

"Sorry for surprising you," the flower shopkeeper apologizes.

"You're good."

There's a few minutes of silence between them where they avoid looking at each other. Yoongi isn't the one who breaks the stuffy silence.

"I, um, remember you from this morning. From the flower shop."

"Umm, oh god. I'm sorry about that."

This time, the other man smiles and even giggles. Yoongi thinks he could live off of listening to the man's laugh alone.

"It was really weird. But also really funny. I'm Jimin by the way," Jimin says, stretching his hand out for Yoongi to shake. And Yoongi does.

Jimin, huh? Cute name for a cute guy.

Jimin giggles and Yoongi realizes he said that out loud. Please, God, smite him now and let his remains be swallowed by the good earth.

"Do I get to know your name too?"

"Yoongi. Min Yoongi. It's, uh, nice to meet you, Jimin-ssi."

Jimin smiles. "Cute name too, Yoongi-ssi."

Yoongi, that night, finds out he can blush redder than a ripe tomato.

[honeyypotato]

Hi Me again🙂 So I would like Y/n to be a female, and yes I want cute and fluffiness to be added

Hello friend! 

Thank you for getting back to me about this, I just wanted to make sure I was writing it the way u wanted :)

I hope you like it! 💕

──⭒─⭑─⭒─⭒─⭑─⭒─⭒─⭑─⭒─⭒─⭑─⭒─⭒─⭑─⭒─⭒─⭑─⭒─⭒─⭑─⭒─⭒──

Melting

Reiner x Bertholdt x fem!reader

Word count: 2,348

Tags: fluff, poly relationship, pre-established relationship

Warnings: none :)

AN:

The image of Reiner walking aimlessly around the grocery store with a ginormous box of freezes is sending me akjhsfkljsdhf

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It was the third day of the predicted heat wave, and you weren’t sure you’d be able to bear it for much longer. It didn’t matter how cold you cranked the air conditioning in the apartment you shared with Bertholdt and Reiner, it still felt like it was at least a hundred degrees inside.

It wasn’t helping that Reiner was very vocal about his discomfort, and the man was practically drenched in sweat. You’d feel bad for him if he didn’t continue to try and hug both you and Bert, constantly, as you all were splayed out in various spots around the main living space of your apartment.

“Reinerrrr, get off me!”

He’d just come back from sticking his face in one of the box fans you’d set up around the living room, and managed to flop down on top of where you were splayed out across the couch.

“Aww, then where am I supposed to lay down? Bert’s taken up the whole countertop, and the chair’s too fuzzy and warm,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck as he gestures to the armchair, covered in a mildly fuzzy fabric.

“You can go in the corner.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s cooler. Only ninety degrees.”

Bertholdt throws a grape at you from his spot on the granite countertop, which hits you in the face. He’s capitalizing on the bag of fruit that Reiner had left out at lunch. The counter was arguably the coldest spot in the apartment, but he’d been hogging it since he came back from work.

“Bert!” You yelp.

Reiner had shuffled over to the corner of the living room. “Hey, uh, I don’t feel a difference over here. Are you sure it’s cooler?”

A grape hits him in the face as well. “Hey!”

“Dummy, she was making a joke. A very bad one.” Bert glares over at you as you burst out laughing, and Reiner groans as the realization hits him. “C’mon, I need to go grocery shopping. We ran out of tomato sauce, and I was gonna make pasta for dinner.”

You shriek when Reiner practically tackles you in retaliation. “Do we have to go with you?” He asks over your laughter.

“Well…the store is air conditioned. And maybe they’ll let you stick your head in one of the freezers if you promise not to sweat all over the food,” Bert reasons. You prepare yourself to defend him, remembering he doesn’t really like going shopping by himself.

But Reiner just shrugs, mumbling “Eh, sounds fair.” Without warning, he scoops you off the couch, throwing you onto his shoulder. “Let’s go, you.”

Wiggling your bare feet in front of his face, you whine, “Rei! I have to put shoes on, or else they won’t let me in the store!” 

At your protests, he puts you down, but the prospect of sticking his head in a freezer has him swiftly grabbing his keys and braving the outdoor heat to start his car. As you slip your shoes on, you look up at Bert, who reaches for one of his baseball hats before squeezing you to him by the waist for a heartbeat.

“Ugh, at least you’re less sweaty than Reiner, the poor guy probably feels awful.” You murmur as he leans down to kiss the top of your head.

“Thank you for coming with me, you know I hate shopping alone.”

You reach up to press a hand to his cheek with a soft smile. “Hey, anytime.”

A moment later, you’re climbing in Reiner’s car, which still hasn’t cooled off completely. After some lighthearted bickering, Bertholdt climbs into the passenger seat. You have an agreement to lessen the severity of passenger seat envy between you three: whoever is in the passenger seat on the way to a place has to sit in the back seat on the way home. Sure, it hasn’t stopped all arguments about car seating arrangements, but Reiner threatened to make you both sit in the back after a particularly bad disagreement. Since he usually drives, you and Bert agreed to a truce.

Despite this, you shove your face into the space between the two front seats, closing your eyes and letting the cold air from the vents hit your face. 

“Ahem.”

You blink your eyes open to Reiner staring at you, one eyebrow raised.

“Whaat?”

“You know the rules.” He murmurs, pressing his forehead against yours. By the “rules”, he means everyone has to be seated properly, with their seatbelt on, before the car moves anywhere. He’s oddly particular about that, but you don’t blame him for wanting to be safe. He loves you both, he doesn’t want to see either of you hurt.

“Mmm,” was all of the response he got from you. But, he also got your hand pressing into his cheek, pulling him in for a kiss. He sinks into your mouth for a moment before you pull away, sliding back into your seat and clicking the belt in place. 

Reiner exchanges a soft glance with Bert before shifting the car into gear; your affection wasn’t something that either of them could get enough of.

The drive to the store was arguably less agonizing, since the car’s air conditioning was efficient, and you almost didn’t want to make the walk into the store. You didn’t regret a thing the minute you were inside though, the cool air of the grocery store hitting your face and melting all of your thoughts about the weather. 

Reiner nearly falls to the floor when the cold air hits him, ever the dramatic guy. “Oh man, that is good.”

Laughing at his reaction, you pat him on the shoulder, and Bert ruffles his hair before grabbing a shopping cart. The two of you stand there for a moment, Bert off to the side checking his list to refresh his mind, until you noticed the other people entering the store were shooting looks at you and Reiner; you were standing in the middle of the entrance.

Bert raises an eyebrow at the two of you, and Reiner runs a hand through his hair sheepishly before announcing “Well, I’m gonna go stick my head in one of the freezers,” and marches off in the direction of the frozen food aisle.

You smile at Bert before slipping your hand in his for a moment, leaning against his arm and peering at his shopping list. “Alright Bert, let’s do this.”

He smiles down at you as you pull off of him, and the two of you begin to make your way through the aisles, grabbing everything on his list and then a couple things that weren’t, a product of food shopping while hungry.

After a short while, you and Bert stand in front of the last aisle of the store idly. You’d completely lost Reiner, despite your efforts to walk through the entire store twice. You were just bringing your phone up to your ear for the third time when the blond walks up to you, struggling with the largest box of freezes you’ve ever seen. 

“R-Reiner? What are you doing? We’ve looked everywhere for you!” Bert’s face twists with concern as the man sets the box on the ground in front of the two of you.

Reiner grins at you both. “Whaat? They’re ice pops!” His expression falters. “ …Oh, that’s my phone ringing, isn’t it?” His eyes fall on you, still holding the phone up to your ear for dramatic effect, as he reaches for the phone in his pocket.

“You mean…popsicles?” Bert teases, giggling.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, they’re freezes.” You look at both of the men incredulously, and Reiner laughs, rolling his eyes.

“Well, whatever they are, they’re yummy, and cold.”

“They’re popsicles,” Bert whispers.

You smirk at him. “Freezes.” 

Bert scoffs in response, but doesn’t continue, so you resolve that you won that debate. “There’s five hundred of them in that box, Rei. We can’t fit all of them in the freezer.” 

“Bert, I’ll bet you a hundred bucks that he’ll eat them all before dinner. I say, as long as he can carry it back to the car, we can get them.”

“Y/n, this is not the first time we’ve been through this, I am not placing bets on Reiner’s actions again.” 

As he talks, Reiner walks up to Bert, wrapping his arms around the man’s torso, and giving him his best attempt at puppy eyes.

“That’s because I always win.” You grin at Bert, who’s trying very hard to not be persuaded by just how sad Reiner looks.

You move close to Reiner and press your hands to his cheeks, intensifying his expression. “Awww, Bert, c’mon, you’re gonna make Reiner upset, just look at the poor guy.” 

Bertholdt wraps his arms around his partners in defeat. “Alright, alright, you win. C’mon, let’s get home before our only option for dinner becomes…freezes.”

“Yes!” You and Reiner cheer, and he somehow manages to pick up the box of freezes.

The three of you manage to make it home with only mild looks of concern from the cashier, and without dropping the very large box. But not even thirty minutes later, you all stood in front of your completely packed freezer, having only unloaded half of the box of freezes.

Bert walks up behind Reiner, resting his chin on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Reiner, I told you, it’s not gonna fit.”

“Hmm, we didn’t eat enough on the way home, then.” You grumble playfully. 

“Wait! I have an idea.” Reiner wraps an arm around Bert, giving him a small squeeze before hurrying off to his room.

Before you and Bertholdt can exchange confused glances for too long, he’s back with the cooler you bring on beach trips.

“We’ll just put all the ice packs we’ve got in here, and then the rest of the freezes will stay cold!” He beams.

“That sounds like a solid plan to me.” You shrug, looking up at Bert for any sign of disapproval from him, but you don’t find any.

“Alright, whatever works, but I’m gonna start on dinner.” He wraps an arm around Reiner, pulling him closer to plant a kiss on his cheek. “Try and save the freezes for afterwards,” he murmurs. Reiner tilts his face towards him in response with a soft smile, lips pressing into his, before turning back to loading the cooler with more freezes.

“Hey, Reiner, we should put the cooler in the living room, so we can just sit on the couch and eat the ones in here first.” You look up at your boyfriend, who grins.

“Aw, hell yeah, that’s a great idea!” He begins dragging the cooler into the other room as you fold the box the freezes came in, putting it in the recycling bin.

“Hey Bert, need any help with dinner, or should I make sure Reiner doesn’t eat all the freezes?” You murmur to him, raising an eyebrow as he slowly takes a bite of one of them that he’d grabbed out of the freezer.

“I’m all good here, but why don’t you set up to watch a movie or something where we’re not moving around and sweating so much, we can start it during dinner if you’d like.”

You nod, “I like that idea, I’ll get Reiner to help.”

Pacing over to the living room, you find Reiner moving around couch cushions and pillows.

“Reiner, what are you doing?”

“Making a blanket fort to hide from the heat, have you seen those things where you stick the fan under the sheets on a bed and the air makes a little tent?”

“Um, I think so?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna do it but bigger.” He tosses a pillow at you, a little fast, and it hits you in the face before you sputter and catch it.

“Ack—hey!” You readjust after receiving a pillow to the face. “Okay, tell me your plan.”

Twenty minutes and fifteen and a half freezes later, you and Reiner had draped an extra set of bedsheets over the major furniture in your living room, covering the floor with blankets and pillows. You’d informed Reiner of Bert’s plan to watch a movie, so you made sure the sheets weren’t obscuring your vision of the TV. By the time Bert walked in with dinner, you were sprawled across Reiner’s chest, the two of you laying on the floor of the living room on a pile of pillows. You were in the direct line of three different fans, the cool air blowing wisps of your hair every which way.

“Are you guys okay? Dinner’s done.”

Reiner raises his head to smile at him. “Yeah, we’re chilling.”

You punch him lightly for the joke, and he laughs as Bert rolls his eyes. Hunger gets the better of you, so you climb off Reiner, and finally the three of you squeeze together under the blanket fort as you settle down to watch the movie.

About halfway through the movie, you doze off, curled in between Bertholdt and Reiner. Your head rests against Reiner’s chest, his arm around your shoulders as you all lean against the base of the couch, while one of your legs is hooked over Bert’s. Reiner’s hand that’s around your shoulders finds its way into Bert’s hair, and before Bert dozes off Reiner nudges him to lay down, managing to only wake you halfway as he pulls you further onto his chest. The three of you curl against each other, sinking into the pillows and blankets littering the floor of your living room. 

It’s cool enough in the room now that the warmth of each other is welcome. Bert’s hand finds its way just under the hem of Reiner’s shirt as he drapes his arm across both of you. Just before he falls asleep, Reiner manages to press a goodnight kiss to both yours and Bert’s foreheads, something that had become a habit since you’d first started dating. You knew you’d wake up to another day of unbearable summer heat, but for now you’d all enjoy the comfort of the people you love.

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

[erodasfishtacos]

Not Your Charity Case

prompt: Harry is a frat boy - who doesn’t need sympathy from anyone. He makes Y/N feel a sense of home when they’re together. But is Harry just like every stereotypical frat boy?

word count: 6.2k 

warnings: minor violence, language, deaf!harry, smutttt

other: when Harry is talking to Y/N or any other characters - it is to be noted that he is signing. When Y/N talks to Harry - she is also always signing

Let me know if you’d want to see anything else from this verse:)

+++

You were rushed - you really shouldn’t stop at the local coffee shop for a sugary, delicious mocha chip frappuccino.

Despite what people say, professors are much more lax and carefree in college.

It was about two weeks into the new semester, - your third here- and the seasons were changing - becoming autumn.

Chilled breezes, falling leaves, and vivid colors of nature made you happy.

When you arrive in line, there are two people ahead of you. A girl currently in front of the cashier and a tall male with a red and black flannel on behind her- typing away on his phone.

When she moves to the left, the broad man steps forward. His snapback facing backwards, brown curls dancing around his neck. You can’t help but notice how tall and lean he is, shoulders broad and straight.

You definitely haven’t seen him before on campus. You’d remember.

From what you can see, he shows the young girl behind the counter the screen of his phone without saying anything at all.

The raven-haired girl’s face pinches in annoyance. “We don’t accept orders like that. You need to tell me what you want.”

You’re a little surprised by both the rude cashier but also the man who doesn’t respond right away.

He attempts to show her his phone again but she shakes her head - annoyed.

You become interested in the situation when I watch him sign, a few gestures before pointing to his ears. In the most obvious form of saying “I can’t hear.”

The clueless girl gives him a blank look, “Listen, there’s a line. I don’t have time for this.”

You hoped you weren’t overstepping your boundaries when you slide up next to him, tapping him on his shoulder to get his attention.

It is a bit startling how gorgeous the boy is. He was tanned with bright green-eyes and a defined jawline that was currently clenched in frustration.

You sign, “What are you trying to order?”

He studies you for a second with hesitance before his long slim fingers begin to move, slowly as if he thinks you may be inexperienced in the form of language.

He replies, “Large coffee with a little cream and two sugars.”

You squeeze in front of him, “It is not only rude but illegal to not serve based on disabilities. Refusing an order from a deaf person isn’t moral or acceptable.”

The girl has enough decency to mumble an apology and turned bright pink, “Sorry, he doesn’t look deaf. “You roll your eyes - how can you tell that someone is deaf based on solely appearance? This girls a fucking idiot, you think.

You repeat his order to her, along with yours - sliding your debit card towards her and give her your name for the order.

The man trails behind you to the small waiting area. “Thank you,” he signs simply. You nod and return the pleasantry. The. hand him his steaming hot coffee.

“Thank you again. I’m going to be late to class, so I have to go,” he tells me, seeming a little out of place signing with a stranger.

“Go ahead, I’ll see you around.” It was the first time in a long time you’ve signed to anyone outside your family.

+++

Sipping your drink as you are only five minutes late and the class hasn’t even started yet. The man you just helped was sat in the back of the classroom, unloading his laptop.

With a little bravery, you wriggle your way through and plop into the wooden chair easily. Letting your backpack fall to the ground. Curly looks over at you with a frown, he signs, “Why are you sitting next to me?”

You blush, “I don’t know? Thought it’d be good to have someone to talk to.”

His hands are tense as he replies, “I’m not a charity case, so you can leave me alone.”

“Never said you were,” you huff when you tell him. Not appreciating how rude he was being. Signing had its own tones and expressions so to speak. For example, when someone is happy their signs and movements are different than when they’re sad or frustrated.

Harry seems to be the latter. You wrestle out your laptop to the PowerPoint that was going to be discussed today in class. You noticed Harry stared very intently at the professor to read his lips and expression.

You was surprised he didn’t have an interpreter with him but you’re sure he got special accommodations elsewhere. Even though that was absolutely none of your business.

His shoulders are tensed and he makes sure your arms don’t brush like you have cooties for the entire two hours. The nameless boy is up and out of his seat as soon as the professor shuts off the projector and turns on the lights - signaling class to be over.

Well fuck him then.

***

You don’t make the mistake to sit next him again. But that doesn’t mean you could ogle his strong muscular back and big hands.

It wasn’t your place to care but you felt twinges in your tummy when you noticed him struggling to keep up with the fast-speed class on certain days.

You were in the large, rustic library that smelled of old books and damp wallpaper. It was dead silent as people furiously studied or worked on papers due.

As you paced the shelves, you could not find the book you needed for your American Literature class. Fuck the Dewey Decimal System.

Part-time uni students probably just stuffed returned books in any open space they saw fit. But you need this book in particular, a discussion board post due by midnight and it was currently eight-thirty. They had ran out of copies at the on-campus bookstore.

After a valiant effort, you trudge up to the checkout counter. A little sign reads, “ring me if no ones here!”

You impatiently ring the silver bell. But no one comes. You give whoever is working a minute or two but nothing. Another ring it is.

Silence. No one. Of fucking course, luck is not on your side tonight.

You dramatically clunk your head onto the high counter top in front of you - groaning at the fact you may fail the assignment.

A tentative pat on your shoulder makes you snap your head up. To see the boy you’ve been constantly avoiding standing behind the checkout desk.

“Are you okay?” He asks. He had a name-tag on - Harry. He honestly looked a bit out of place. Harry appeared to be a frat boy. He was still had a boyish air about him but an intensity that was unmatchable.

He didn’t look like he would work in the library. He looked like...well he looked like he would be a beer pong referee or something.

You couldn’t see below his torso but he had a plain black snapback on and a vintage Elton John concert tee. A cross necklace dangling over the worn shirt.

You smile, embarrassed, but reply, “Just being dramatic. I can’t find a book and I was waiting here.”

There’s mirth in his eyes when he points to the bell,”Did you ring the bell?”

Your brows furrow, “I did.”

“Well I can’t hear it, I’m deaf,” he deadpans with a straight face and a dry sense of humor.

You roll your eyes, laughing nervously, “I didn’t know you were working!”

“What do you need?”

He helps you locate the book in two minutes flat before checking you out and you rushing home to finish the homework.

You felt bad ignoring your little sister’s FaceTime calls but you promised to call her back tomorrow. 

***

Though once again, you hadn’t interacted with Harry since last week - you constantly found yourself studying his stoic profile or fast moving fingers.

You would never befriend Harry because you feel bad for him - like he presumed. You enjoyed American Sign Language and it actually made you feel back at home.

You’re little sister was born completely deaf. She was much younger than you - eight years old. Fifteen years apart to be exact. You learned the language along with her and your parents.

When you were at home and your sister was there - you guys tried to only sign so she didn’t feel left out. So Harry felt like home - a little despite his completely off-putting demeanor. It made you a little bit more persistent than with any other frat boy.

***

The bulletin board in your advisor’s office caught your eyes. None of the little tabs ripped off in interest.

‘Student with ASL experience and above a 3.5 GPA needed for tutoring sessions - twice weekly. $16 dollars an hour.’

After your meeting, you tugged the little scrap of paper off and tuck it into your pocket. You couldn’t know for sure if it was Harry but you didn’t know of any other deaf students in the program.

You say ‘fuck it’ and type out an email to the advisor of academic affairs and accommodations to throw your hat in the ring.

***

You don’t hear back for three days - nearly forgetting about it in the mean time. Your eyes scan quickly over the email to grant you the position. They include contact information for no other than Harry Styles.

After psyching yourself out a little and a few paces across your kitchen tiles - you text him.

Hey! I’m your new assigned tutor. Would you like to set up a time and place? As well as what kind of help you’re looking for.

The reply text comes shortly after

Hello, thank you very much. I am just in need of hearing ears. I am deaf and have a hard time keeping up with the my professor. I have begun recording the lectures in hope that you can sign then to me.

Sure thing. That won’t be a problem!

I live in Alpha Sigma on 3rd street. I have my own room. I’d rather not have the tutoring session in public. However, if that makes you uncomfortable - we can figure something out.

You take a minute to debate. You understand why this would be a task too loud for the library and why he’d want privacy. You didn’t feel like I’d be uncomfortable with him.

I saw twice a week so does Tuesday and Thursday at seven work?

Sounds great. Thank you again x

Did he know it was me? Was he expecting it to me?

***

He was definitely not expecting you. You automatically knew that by the way his friendly smile dissipated into a frown when he opened the door for you.

You attempted to look nice today without trying too hard. A loose crop top with the university’s name, a pair of tight black leggings, bulky white socks bunched at your ankles, and white sneakers. Very 80’s.

You try to keep your composure, “Hi Harry, I’m going to be your tutor.”

He slowly nods at you, huffing out a breathe of irritation before inviting you into the frat house.

You’d only been here once or twice for a party so you had no idea what the house actually looked like when there weren’t bodies and booze everywhere.

He’s walking you past a group of boys playing FIFA on the flatscreen in the living room, white claws open everywhere.

“Y/N! Hey babe!” You look over to see Niall - one of your good friends from your part-time job at the bookstore - trotting over to you guys.

The blonde pulls you into an overexcited hug. He reminded you of a cuddly, soft puppy dog most of the time.

“Are you Harry’s little tutor?” Niall coos, leaning over to pinch Harry’s cheek. 

Harry- who was observing the conversation, focusing in on our lips, immediately bats his friend away. A small scowl forming on his face.

It automatically turns into a playful brawl where Niall tugs Harry into headlock. But he has no strength on the brunette.

Harry turns out of it quickly and pushes Niall to the ground. He straddles his stomach and begins to jokingly pinch and slap at him.

Niall hisses, “Ouch! You motherfucker! Big oaf!”

Then you don’t know why you find this endearing but Niall signs the word, “uncle” a few times to signal he’s accepted his lost.

The fact that they wrestle so much that Niall learned to sign how to give up made you giggle more than it should.

Harry crawls off of him, running a hand through his messy curls, his face a little flushed.

“I’ll talk to you later!” You tell Niall as your trailing behind Harry up a flight of stairs.

His room is extremely neat. A fluffy navy comfort decorated his bed with a few photos of flowers and nature on his wall. A tidy desk tucked away in the corner that had all of his school work loaded on top of it.

He chooses to sit in his desk chair, motioning for you to perch on his bed. You look at him expectantly when he pulls out the tape recorder and sets it on the surface.

He pulls his laptop into his lap and begins signing, “I need you to transcribe the lecture for me so I can follow it. We can skip through the bits where he is rambling or off topic.”

You nod, letting him know to begin whenever he’s ready. He presses the side button and the recording starts but it super unclear and garbled.

“Did you record this from your seat?” You ask, the professors words nearly inaudible and fuzzy.

“Yes.”

“You need to bring it to the front of the room. Ask Dr. Morrison  to lay it on his desk before class. I can’t hear anything but static and mumbles,” You tell him.

He laughs and shakes his head. His movements rough and angry, “Of course its fucked up. I get you as my tutor and then the recorder is shit.”

You glare at him, offended as you haven’t done anything to this boy. “Excuse me? I’ve literally been trying to help since I’ve meet you. What is your fucking issue?”

“I’m not a charity case! I don’t need you to feel bad for me. I’m not helpless! You’re probably just a silly little girl who took ASL in high school because it was cool and trendy. Go back to focusing on psych.”

“Fuck you, Harry,” Your gestures getting sharper and your face sour, “You know nothing about me so don’t act like you do. I don’t feel bad for you or think that you’re helpless.” You put up a hand and tell him to not talk.

“I was just being nice because I thought you were handsome and at first, seemed friendly. It turns out you’re just like every douchebag frat boy I’ve met. What a disappointment,” You chuckle, swinging your bag on your shoulder and storm out of the room without another look.

***

The cafe was jammed packed - it was Waffle Wednesday. You had said waffles in your tray and were about to plop down on a stool when you hear your name being called.

“C’mere, come sit with us!” He hollers over the commotion of the crowd. Niall.

You’re about to decline when some dude slips behind you and snags the stool. Shit.

A bit unwillingly you slide into the booth next to Niall, cracking open your sparkling water. “Mates, this is Y/N, we work at the store together and she’s Harry’s tutor,” he tells them. “Y/N, this is Liam and Louis.”

“Hello,” you try your best to come off as friendly even though you can feel Harry’s glare on the side of your face. You ended up falling to easy conversation with the boys. Niall has a very limited ASL vocabulary but tries.

The boys are also trying to talk slower and more pronounced so Harry can watch and understand. A couple of times he taps Niall on the wrist to repeat what was going on.

Your phone begins buzzing and you apologize for the interruption. It’s your little sister, Mazie, FaceTiming.

You answer the phone with a frown, signing “Aren’t you suppose to be in school?”

Mazie looks upset, eyes a little watery. She gestures back, “I left early. I’m sick.”

“Are you really sick or where you getting bullied again?” You asks her.

Your sister hesitates before sniffling, “You already know. I hate my school.” 

Mazie has had other children bully her for her disability since she started preschool and it as still happening in fourth grade.

“What can I do to help?” You frown, never wanting to see your baby sister cry.

You chat for a few minutes to help her calm down. When the phone call ends, you don’t realize that all the boys were watching you in interest. Harry in particular, keeps his focus on you with a wrinkled forehead.

“My sister’s deaf,” You tell them. The whole time you’ve been sitting with them you’ve been signing and verbally speaking to help everyone be able to be included in the conversation.

“That’s sick!” Louis says, smacking Harry’s arm. “Just like our lad Harry.” 

Harry grumbles when Louis shakes him a little. It seems like the boys loved to physically interact with Harry which was endearing.

Harry allows him to for a moment before he flicks his cheek hard and laughs when Louis flinches. The conversation goes back to normal.

***

Harry jogs up to you after your group shares farewells and a few punches. You pointedly ignore him as you trek to the class you two have together so it’s not like he can’t walk this way too.

“Please, wait,” Harry asks. He walks in front of you.

“What do you want?” You huff, keeping my glare firm and directed alley at him.

“I’m sorry. I made the wrong assumption.”

“You made a lot of wrong assumptions. The fact that you think of me so lowly is sad. I’ve been nothing but nice,” You try not to focus on his large palms that curve over the caps of your shoulders.

“I’m not very trusting of people.”

You snort rather unattractively, “No kidding”

“Can we please start over?” He asks, stepping back to give you space. He didn’t realize how close he’d been standing to you until your hair wisps across his nose.

“One more chance, Styles.”

Harry lays a hand on your upper arm and squeeze lightly before signing the simple gesture of ‘thank you.’

***

It turns out Harry is very handsy and physically affectionate. It wasn’t creepy though or something that ever made you feel uncomfortable.

You were still tutoring him but you hung around the frat with Harry nearly everyday. The days you just wanted to lay in bed resulted in a grumpy FaceTime from Harry.

Harry once stated during a tutoring session, “It is easier for me to show how I’m feeling with touch than words. If I ever make you uncomfortable - please tell me and I will stop.”

You smile slyly at his words that sounded more like a question, asking if he can touch you. “I guess I’ll let you feel me up every now in again.”

He giggles and looks down wolfishly - like an entertaining thought is dancing around in his mind.

You tuck your finger under his chin to gaze at you. “In all seriousness, I give you my consent to show your feelings with physical touch. I trust you and know you won’t do anything to make me uncomfortable.”

The curly-haired brunette smiles happily, his hand cupping the side of your neck and brushing over your pulse point.

He hadn’t touched you here before and it seems like it was his first goal to do so once he got permission. You can’t help but take in a deep gasp of air. You prayed he didn’t notice but by the small lift of his lips he did.

The simple touch made a flame of arousal swirl in your lower stomach. You felt like you were about to start sweating.

“Anyways,” You clear your throat and snatch back up the recorder. It now had better quality after Harry listened to you about placement.

***

The frat house was ridiculously full of drunk college students. Everybody on the dance floor was sweaty and sticky with a variety of different substances.

Niall had invited you - so you were searching about for him. Pushing through the crowd and nobody was able to hear you say ‘excuse me.’

You finally found fresh air in the backyard where beer pong and cornhole were set up. Niall was tossing his ball across the table, trying to splash in Liam’s red solo cups.

Harry was sitting on a cushioned patio chair, watching the game commence. Maybe he was a beer pong referee after all. 

He looked so fucking good tonight. He had a yellow snapback taming his curls - backwards of course. A black Rage Against the Machine shirt and his signature black skinny jeans. **

You made eye contact and were about to wave when a girl plopped down in the seat across from him.

Awkwardly you turn away, greeting the other boys and taking a seat in a lawn chair to watch them start their third round of the game.

Your eyes keep darting over to Harry who is staring blankly at the girl. She starts stroking his biceps and tracing across the tattoos like they belong to her.

Harry is attempting to let her know he’s not interested. His signs uselessly as she’s staring at his lips and not hands.

You’re moving before you know it, without another thought, you squeeze in between the two - separating them. You dramatically slide into his lap, funnily enough one strong arm wrapping happily around your middle.

The pretty blonde pouts out her lips, “Is he your boyfriend?”

Before you’re able to reply, Harry signs the obvious signal for ‘yes’ to the girl. Then rudely makes the shooing gesture. She’s up with a huff and stomping back towards the house.

Harry turns you sideways on his lap so that you two can see each other’s hands, “You saved me.”

“You’re just such a stud, have to protect you,” You joke - but not really.

He raising his eyebrows and smiles, “You were jealous.” It was a statement not a question.

You blush wildly, avoiding eye contact which you know he hates. He hates anytime you cut off ways of communication.

Harry taps your lips until you look up at him, “it’s really fucking sexy when you are.” A perk of sign language. He could dirty talk just about anywhere and mostly no one would ever know.

His thumb drags on your full bottom lip, signing clumsily with one hand so you had to use context clues to piece it together “Don’t think I forgot when you called me handsome a few months ago.”

“I don’t remember, doesn’t sound like me,” You boldly lie, snickering and nipping at the top of his thumb

His eyes become a shade darker when your teeth meet his skin. He presses his thumb further in until it’s in-between your teeth. The moment is broken when Niall screams, “Styles! You’re up next!”

**

You and Harry become separated after you spent nearly two hours watching all these drunk boys play beer pong. Harry was ridiculously good at the game and only had to drink two cups from the table.

You had wandered back into the house where the party had died down. There were only a handful of stragglers left but mostly just the fraternity brothers and their close friends.

With a fresh alcoholic seltzer in your hand - you didn’t trust open bottles at parties like this - you gaze at Harry through the back window.

Harry was being jumped by Liam and Niall. He was snarling playfully as Liam toppled them all over into the grass. Niall tries to stand up but Harry’s hand wraps around his ankle and makes him fall right back on his bum with a girlish squeal.

Niall leans over to give Harry a wet-willy but Liam manages to throw a plastic cup directly at Niall’s forehead. Harry and the other boys dissolve in childish giggles. Faces red from laughter and liquor. You feel a smile painted fondly on your lips from watching them.

“Hey, Y/N right?” A voice interrupts from behind.

You spin to face a guy you barely recognize from a previous class you shared. You smile nonetheless, “Hi...”

“Jake, Jake from Social Constructs and Society last semester.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” You smile and allow him to talk your ear off because you struggle to say ‘no.’ He was fine, nothing special, typical business major who thought he was hot shit because his daddy owned a golf course he wanted to take you to.

It was a normal conversation until his voice gets lower as if he’s trying to be more seductive, “Want to head to a room with me?” He nods towards the staircase.

You chuckle in disbelief at his bold and forward question. “No thank you, I’m good.” You really had eyes for one person right now and he was currently cussing out Niall in sign language in the backyard before tackling him once again to the ground.

“C’mon, I can really show you a good time,” He persuades persistently, stepping into your space - causing your nervousness to spike.

“I said - no thank you,”You bite out, starting to feel scared when he blocks your way out of the kitchen and presses himself against you and the counter.

“You’re really something gorgeous, you know?” He asks, ignoring my struggles to get away from him.

“Stop touching me!” You scream, hoping Niall or one of the boys would hear your wail. He puts a hand up to your mouth to muffle you but that only results in you biting him.

“Fucking bitch!” He cries out, pulling his hand back and winding up to either punch or slap you right in the face. You prepare for the impact.

Then in a blink off an eye, it becomes a blur, a muscular figure is crashing into Jake with full force and knocking him straight into the linoleum floor with a loud crash.

It’s Harry. Broad shoulders and thick but lean tattooed biceps. He’s standing over the harasser and drops on top of him. It shouldn’t look as graceful and tactful as it does.

You’d never seen anything like this from Harry before. Once you really got to know him - he was a gentle giant who liked romantic comedies, soft blankets, and vanilla cupcakes with rainbow sprinkles.

Harry’s fist is repeatedly connecting with the dark-haired boy’s jaw with full force. The only noise is from Jake as Harry is dead silent but his eyes zeroed in on the target.

When blood begins gushing from the man’s nose - Niall and Liam decide it times to physically pull Harry up. Harry had a slight red mark on his jaw when Jake had managed one punch before being defeated quickly.

Harry signs to Niall, “Tell him.”

Niall places his foot on the dude’s chest to keep him down, “My mate wants to let you know if you touch her again we’re not going to pull him off and he’ll gladly beat you to a fucking pulp.”

Jake groans, clutching his nose to stop the bleeding, “Fuckin’ asshole.” 

You were still blown away as you watch Harry’s heaving chest as he glares down at the boy. His fist clenched and knuckle bloody and swollen. Harry’s attention turns towards you. His furious expression melts into worry. You can read his face so clearly. He’s afraid he’s scared you off.

It was hard to believe you had this drop dead gorgeous frat boy defending you past midnight on a Friday night. A boy who didn’t need to hear but just to see you needed help to step in.

All your desires and lusts after the man in front of you burst like a rubber-band and the urge to have him felt uncontrollable. “Take me upstairs,” you demand quickly, arousal creeping up your spine.

He doesn’t understand you’re extremely turned on. Instead he looks like a kicked dog who’s about to get in trouble again.

Nevertheless, he takes your hand and maneuvers out of the kitchen and up the stairs until his bedroom door is closed.

Harry lips are turned down unhappily as he begins, “I’m sorry, love. I...” he pauses a moment before continuing. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I hope you don’t think less of me.”

You look him dead in the eye and sign, “Kiss me.”

He blinks slowly at you like he just hallucinate the gestures.

So you repeat your motions, slow and with intent, “Kiss me, touch me, do something.” No more time is wasted as he is stepping in front of you and cupping your face in his hands.

Without any hesitation now, he pressing a bruising kiss to your lips - taking your bottom one between his and sucking.

Your hands are immediately tugging at the hem of his vintage shirt, pulling apart to bring it over his head. Dark ink decorates his torso, for some reason something you weren’t expecting. A butterfly on his abdomen, two fern branches, tattoos on his side.

Harry chuckles, “This is new to me.”

Your eyes go wide and you sign, “You’re a virgin?”

Harry snorts and rolls his eyes before telling you, “God no. I mean I’ve never been able to really communicate during sex.”

Then before You can speak, he cuts in a bit frantically, “I’ve always gotten consent - not like that. I mean-“ You cut him off with a kiss - knowing he would never do anything you didn’t want.

You wanted everything from him.

“If you’d believe it, I like a bit of dirty talk when I fuck - but no one understands what I’m saying,” He tries to crack a joke but for some reason seems insecure and nervous.

“Hey,” You take his chin so he shyly meets your eye, “I can’t wait to hear it - you’ve already made me so wet.” His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas.

“You’re such a good girl,” he signs before tugging off your shirt and instantly finding your lips again. His hands are skillful as they unclasp your bra without any struggle and tosses it.

You tugs a bit as his hair to show your enjoyment as his tongue finds your nipple - lapping before taking it between his teeth. As good as it feels, you want him to feel even better.

You push him back until he’s sitting in the edge of the bed, legs spread and hands behind him on either side holding him up. Jaw clenched with arousal and restraint.

He’s pressed against the zipper of his jeans. And all you wanted to do was see him in all of his glory. You’re quick to undo the button and determined to get the finicky zipper down as well.

His fingers come beneath your chin until you’re looking at his sparkling eyes, a look of lust made his lids a little droopier and his mouth slack from heavy-breathing.

“Are you sure you want to? You don’t have to - I want to eat your pussy either way, pet,” He signs, leaning in for a slow, wet kiss.

You sign back with a pout, “Shut the fuck up.” He huffs out a laugh, letting go of your chin and wrapping a hand in your hair to keep it out of your face.

As soon as he’s helping you wriggle his briefs and jeans down his narrow hips, you’re met with the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen.

When you make eye contact with Harry, he raises a eyebrow and grins cockily, “Is it nice enough for your liking, love?”

You nod breathlessly - wasting no more time before ducking down to take him to your mouth, a slight burning in your throat from how big he is.

His hands keep ahold of your hair, thumbs pressed against your temples as you bob down his length with sloppy, warm licks.

Harry’s moaning as you pop off to kiss and suck at the underside of him, hands coming to cup and roll his balls. It is a few moments later when he taps your cheek to get your attention, one hand leaving his hair to sign that he’s close.

Your mouth speeds up, wanting to give him all the pleasure you could. Your hand coming to stroke at what couldn’t fit in your mouth, pumping quickly.

Before you know it, Harry’s rutting his hips upwards and coming with a long, deep moan from the rumbles of his chest. He’s pulling you up into his lap, pressing appreciative kisses to your cheeks and jawline.

Big hands palming at your breasts before slipping down into your leggings, brushing softly over your mound. 

You whine and hitch forward to grind against his palm as soon as he cups you. He smiles widely at your desperation, pressing the heel of his palm harder against you to create more pressure.

You were already so wet and turned on that it wasn’t going to take much. The ball of your climax was burning low in your tummy. However, you wanted him to taste you like he said he would.

You sign, “I’m close. Please, I want your mouth on me.”

With that, he’s flipping you until you’re laid out on the bed. His hands tugging off your leggings and underwear with no further ado. “Holy shit,” He gestures, gazing all over your body and not stopping on one spot for too long.

“What?” You ask, fishing for the compliments you know he’s about to shower you in.

“You’ve got such a pretty pussy,” he signs, dimples popping in his cheeks and a curious finger traces your entrance before dipping in.

You lightly kick at his stomach, “Get on me.” He pouts, crooking his finger against your spot before pulling it out. Fucking tease.

Then his face is disappearing between your spread thighs and a strong lick is delivered from your clit all the way down to your bum.

Since he can’t hear you, you grabs handfuls off his hair. Tugging at the roots, scratching your nails into his scalp to let him know how good he is. So fucking good.

When you accidentally buck your hips hard against his mouth, you curse and run a apologetic hand through the locks. He doesn’t look up at you but lift a hand and signs, “Again.”

You absolutely whine, begging to ride him with determination - climax on the brink. He hums causing vibrations on the sensitive nerves. With that, your hips are meeting his tongue and you’re coming. His face dampening with your release - happy as a clam when he pops back up.

You can’t remember the sign for condom, so you sign, “Protection?” Harry understands right away, rustling through the drawer until he finds a stray packets, “It’s been awhile.”

“Same,” You gestures - watching as he slides it down his length and crawls overtop of you. He was pink and swollen - having to be a bit sensitive from just coming a little while ago.

“Ready, love?” He asks, pressing soft kisses to your jawline. You nod, reaching down to guide him in.

And you weren’t lying, it had been a while and he was big. The stretch wasn’t uncomfortable, just a lot. But his wet, open-mouth kisses made you stay grounded.

Harry’s moans were absolutely obscene as he slide all the way in before stopping to give you a moment. His arms strong, holding himself over you. The cold metal of his necklaces brushing against your tight nipples.

When you have him the okay, he begin giving you deep, hard strokes on each thrust. His noises so loud they had to be able to hear them downstairs. They were deep and low - rumbling in his chest with pleasure.

Then his hand is coming to your throat. For a wild moment you thought he was going to choke you but instead he rest it lightly, palm flat.

It takes you a moment - then it hits you.

Holy fuck. He is feeling the vibrations of your moans - erupting from your vocal cords. Feeling out the movement from your throat so he can feel how much you’re enjoying it.

You should be embarrassed but you can’t find it in you when you come again right on the spot. His fingertips nudging into the skin to feel the intensity as it wracks through you.

When you’re done riding out your orgasm, he reaches for the headboard behind you with his other hand, gripping it tightly as he begins to pound in with all his strength.

The bedframe is hitting the wall so loud that the whole house must be able to hear it. Hitting with every directed thrust until his mouth is dropping down into a long, timbred moan and he’s coming.

---

Later, when the two are you have settled for the night in the warmth of his bed. Harry seems a little nervous, once again. It takes him a moment to meet your eyes and brushes a strand of hair off your forehead.

“What is it?” You ask, tucked into his side. His body so solid and comforting.

“It’s corny,” Harry frowns, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes flash across your face.

“Tell me,” You insist, bringing his hand to your lips to kiss his fingertips.

“I feel like you were made for me. Like...we were meant to be together,” Harry signs, hesitant to share his thoughts. But it doesn’t scare you away. You can’t help but agree.

“I think so too,” You reply before pressing another kiss to his puffy pink lips.

[kumzume]

glam ft. todoroki shotō [smhub]

wc. 2.8k :3

warnings. ownership, soft-ish!dom reader, edging, v v lowkey pet play (u call him bunny lol), quiet whiny shoto, begging, miss k*nk (?), slight humiliation k*nk, crying, um

an. SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG HOLY S WORD I HOPE ITS OK I DIDNT GET ANYONE TO BETA IT SO IF THERE ARE ISSUES M SO SORRY LOVE YALL TY FOR WAITING

▼・ᴥ・▼

shoto todoroki was so pretty.

it wasn’t like he wasn’t aware — he’d heard the whispers amongst the girls back at U.A. about how attractive he was. that didn’t keep him from believing those words, his insecurities gripping him so tightly that he was unable to even imagine that anyone found him remotely appealing.

that is, until he met you.

when you first transferred into 3-A, the class was thrown into an uproar. you were beautiful, kind, and funny with a powerful quirk to boot! and yet, you never believed that you were better than anyone else, always treating every single person with respect — even bakugou (shoto couldn’t even pretend to understand how you did it but still, the behavior was so undeniably you).

it was all of your remarkable traits that ended up being shoto’s downfall. he believed you were way out of his league — you deserved someone emotionally available and sweet, things that todoroki felt, no knew, he was not. besides, with every single guy in the nearest vicinity falling for you, he knew he didn’t even have a chance.

so, shoto resigned himself to observe you from afar, watching your interactions with his closest friends and classmates, wishing that he could make you smile as wide as kirishima and deku or laugh as hard as sero and denki.

he knew he didn’t measure up and while he tried to make himself okay with that, he felt jealousy bubbling up beneath his skin when he observed shinsou helping you with your homework or bakugou training with you after school.

of course, he realized he didn’t belong to you or you to him and he had no real reason to be envious of whoever you chose to spend your time with but that didn’t stop him from fucking his hand late at night at the thought of you hovering over him, pressing soft kisses to his mangled scar and calling him beautiful.

shoto came embarrassingly quick with that fantasy, the shame and disappointment overwhelming him to the point where he’d purposefully ignored you for days after.

he could tell you were hurt by his behavior — he wasn’t entirely oblivious — but he knew it was for the best. you deserved so much more than him.

the both of you graduated and moved on to your respective agencies, shoto swiftly making his way up to the number 2 spot while you sat comfortably at number 17. neither of you saw each other very often but when you did, conversation was stilted and a bit awkward due to the intense attraction and inability to act on it on shoto’s part.

shoto was willing to go the rest of his life like this; seeing you briefly in passing, stumbling through a discussion with much difficulty, and then returning to his penthouse to hump his pillow and cry out your name.

it was a pretty good system for the most part. shoto had no worries about ever having to face his feelings for you and was content to live out his days suppressing his inner turmoil just for you.

unfortunately, the universe hates him.

at least that’s what he told himself as he stood in the center of a boardroom next to you, clad in your hero outfits and listening to instructions on an upcoming mission that required you and shoto to work together. alone. for days at a time.

what the fuck.

to be honest, shoto completely tuned out the minute he heard “one bedroom,” his mind racing with all the horribly tempting ways his fantasies could play out.

by the time the meeting was over, he was hard in his pants and entirely distracted as you attempted to make friendly small talk about your mission. shoto sort of felt like he should apologize for being an absolute brick wall, giving you curt one word answers until you decided to leave him alone.

he felt bad but what else could he do when you stood there, wearing your obscene hero costume that revealed way too much of your skin?

well, shoto was being a little dramatic but that’s how he felt! your suit was a play on the playboy bunny costume but instead of being black leather (he thinks he would actually die if you wore leather in front of him), it was a white, lightweight fabric that helped with your quirk.

it was entirely too sexy and reminded him a little too much of one of his secret kinks that he was determined to never let see the light of day.

it was going to be ok! he reasoned. all he had to do was do his job, ignore you like he’s done for the past 3 years and everything would be just fine — right?

wrong. so fucking wrong.

the mission had gone well on all accounts. you both had kicked ass, much to your enjoyment, and were able to go back home a day early!

you were so excited to finally be back in your own bed and away from the weird tension that being around todoroki brought. it wasn’t that you didn’t like him — in fact it was quite the opposite.

you found shoto alluring and gorgeous, his awkward yet endearing mannerisms drawing you further into the mystery that was shoto todoroki. regrettably, it didn’t seem like the man in question was on the same page.

every time you tried to speak with him, he would either stutter and blush or refuse to look you in the eye and give you one-word answers. it was actually ridiculously cute but he would always disappear the first chance he got.

it hurt but you weren’t one to push boundaries where you weren’t wanted.

that’s why that night, instead of going back up to the room to watch tv (uncomfortably, might i add) and knocking yourself out, you decided to go down to the bar and celebrate a job well done.

one of the perks of being a relatively unknown hero was that you could enjoy a night in public without anyone approaching you, a luxury you knew not many top 20 heroes could afford.

with that thought — and the memory of the stifling hotel room awaiting you upstairs — in mind, you made your way to the sparsely populated bar, sitting down and immediately requesting a drink (bourbon, on the rocks).

you scanned the area, counting the number of exits and patrons before your eyes landed on the handsome bartender down at the other end of the counter.

with curly brown hair, bright green eyes and a smile that could kill, there was no way you could lie to yourself and say he was unattractive. even as your mind briefly entertained the notion of taking the brunette out into the alley and fucking him within an inch of his life, your heart just wasn’t in it.

your mind just couldn’t stop drifting to the tall, dual-haired, oh so pretty, man who was (inadvertently) waiting for you upstairs. of course, you weren’t even his to wait for but you didn’t know how to keep from imagining that he was.

a deep sigh escaped your parted lips before you downed the rest of your drink, wincing at the burn it left as it went down your throat. it was getting late and you weren’t planning on spending your night alone with the janitor.

you sent the cute bartender a soft smile while pressing a crisp $20 to the counter. he sent you his own grin back as his eyes trailed down your body clad in your tight hero suit, licking his plump lips in arousal.

you were flattered, truly, but you were a little occupied with getting back to your room, changing into some comfortable pajamas and conking the fuck out.

the trip back up to your room was long and arduous to your sore body, the elevators being out of commission leaving you to take the stairs.

by the time you were at your door, you were so worn out that you were ready to collapse but before you could manage placing your key against the lock, something caught your ear.

“p-please miss,” a breathy moan of your name followed by a wet slapping noise rang out through the door. “i’ll be your perfect bunny, just let m-me cum, please-!!”

holy fuck.

shoto todoroki, the man you’d been crushing on since your years at UA was now touching himself to the thought of you doing god know what to him and he was calling you miss?

you felt heat flood your core, your knees buckling under the heavy weight of your lust. now braced against the door, you leaned your ear against the wood, determined to hear exactly what was getting him off.

more wet noises permeated through the walls — did he just spit in his palm??? — before a long whine left his pretty pink lips.

“m-miss, i belong to you, y-you own me,” he gasped, the creaking of the bed just barely audible beneath his wavering voice.

by now, you knew you’d soaked through the crotch of your hero costume, your clit throbbing painfully beneath the fabric of your panties. you also knew you should turn around, head back to the bar and order another drink, leaving shoto to finish himself off but you couldn’t.

your feet were implanted in place, ear glued against the door as you listened to your partner masturbate to the thought of you owning him.

quietly, you lifted the hand gripping your key to the door, allowing the touchpad to register before slowly pushing the door open.

the sight that greeted you was otherworldly.

the blinds were parted allowing a dreamy haze of moonlight to envelop the room, casting the pale man before you in a somehow whimsical light.

he was stripped down to nothing, lying on his back with a hand wrapped around his gorgeous, swollen cock, furiously stroking himself to completion.

the plump lips that you had spent so much time admiring were parted, allowing whines and whimpers to leave them sporadically as his lithe hips bucked up into his hand.

shoto’s eyes were clenched shut so he was unable to see your dumbfounded, painfully aroused face as you crept into the room, leaning against the wall with your hand pressed to your mouth.

it wasn’t as though you’d never seen a man naked before — you’d had your fair share of men naked in your bed begging for you — but this was something else.

this was shoto — somehow more intimidating than anyone else you’d ever brought to bed and yet you’ve never wanted anyone more.

which is why you were almost surprised at yourself when you opened your mouth and whispered, “stop.”

immediately, shoto’s eyes shot open, wide with fear and apprehension as he lied there frozen, his hand still wrapped tightly around his girth.

the both of you stood there staring at one another, neither of you able to move. you let yourself have this moment to look at him, your eyes tracking all over his muscular form before landing on his length, not missing how it twitched under your gaze.

“i-“ shoto started but he was quickly interrupted by your own voice. “s’this what you do when i’m gone? touch yourself to the thought of me? you’re so dirty bunny.”

it was impossible to hide the low groan that echoed out in the hotel room, shoto’s cheeks burning red in humiliation. a grin crept across your face as you made your way towards him, giggling to yourself at the way he moved up and away from you on the bed.

“now you’re trying to hide, bunny? you weren’t hiding when you were moaning out my name.” your hand slid up his thigh until it was resting on his sharp hipbone, an abrupt gasp leaving his chest.

your hand continued its trajectory, fingers trailing across his tummy before coming to wrap around the base of his cock.

“o-oh fuck, miss—“ a thick drop of precum leaked from his slit and onto your awaiting hand as a low moan departed from the dual-haired boy.

one of his hands shot out to hold yours, drawing your attention to his heterochromatic gaze. shoto’s eyes held so much emotion, small tears already littering his lashline while the moonlight illuminated his crimson scar. he was ethereal.

“pretty,” you hummed, giving him a gentle smile while your hand squeezed his in reassurance. you’d had enough experience to know that that kind of comment was guaranteed to get some kind of vulnerability but what you were not expecting was the expletive shoto muttered before leaning forward to press his lips to yours.

immediately, he was over-enthusiastic, his lips and teeth clashing with yours messily, almost painfully, before you took control of the kiss, slowing shoto down before slipping your tongue inside his mouth.

his quiet groan vibrated into the kiss as you deliberately laid him down, resting his back against the pillows. from there, you had more access to his body, your lips trailing down to his neck while your hand took its place back on his length, lazily pumping him up and down.

“m-miss!” shoto choked, his eyes widening yet again, holding you with his stare. you chose not to respond, instead stroking him quicker while pressing kisses to his shoulder.

“miss,” he tried again, this time more deliberately. “p-please tell me i’m yours...”

with him asking so sweetly, a few tears leaking from his gorgeous eyes at the overwhelming moment, how were you supposed to deny him?

“of course bunny,” you purred, leaning down to peck his nose, sending shivers through his body. “you are mine.”

shoto’s reaction was instantaneous. his eyes rolled back in his head and his mouth dropped open as he felt his pleasure begin to crest, determined to push him over the edge.

you, of course, noticed his body’s response and quickly pulled your hand off of him, painfully ripping his orgasm from his grasp. a disappointed whimper resonated throughout the room as shoto’s eyes found yours, staring at you with such betrayal that you almost found it funny.

“c’mon bunny,” you moved until you were kneeling between his legs, your hands leaving featherlight touches to his inner thighs. “you can hold out for me, right?”

shoto nodded before he could stop himself, desperate for anything you would give him.

besides, it couldn’t be that hard to hold off, right?

...

wrong. so very wrong.

it had only been 30 minutes but it felt like 2 hours since you started playing with him and keeping him from coming.

shoto was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, both hands tangled in his bi-colored locks, eyes squeezed shut with tear tracks now drying on his cheeks and his cock standing fully at attention.

it was purple, throbbing, and covered in precum as you licked a stripe up the side making shoto sob in pleasure.

he had never been harder in his life and he was certain that he would just die if you didn’t let him cum soon.

“p-please, please, miss, please, let me cum,” he babbled, shaking his head mindlessly while bucking his hips up into the warm heat of your mouth.

you chose to ignore his pleas while you moved your mouth over his tip, sucking hard while your hand pumped what wasn’t in your mouth.

“a-ah-!!” shoto shrieked, his back bowing off the bed, his orgasm coming on so hard and so fast that he felt like he was going to explode. “c-can’t hold back m-miss, i can’t, i can’t!”

your hand continued to pick up speed before you pulled your mouth off of him, toying with his tip while leaning up to breathe into his ear.

“cum for me bunny. you’re mine.”

with a cry of your name, shoto came, thick spurts of cum covering his abs, chest and thighs as his body convulsed under the weight of his bliss.

it was the most all encompassing orgasm he’d ever had and you, his former classmate, current partner, and future lover, was beside him through it all, helping him ride it out.

in the back of his mind, shoto knew he should be at least a little worried about how your relationship was going to change after all of this but he couldn’t bring himself to care. you were here and now, bringing him the most pleasure he’d ever undergone with nothing but kind words and a smile, filling his touchstarved heart with heat and, dare he say it, love.

shoto may not have been the funniest or the most open but you chose him, even if it was just for the night. and now that he unlocked how much he loved you, nothing else mattered — just you and him.

as he collapsed back into the sheets, his head just barely registering the cool rag wiping him down, he took pride in how he finally admitted it to himself; shoto loved you and he would be damned if he let anyone else take him away from you.

now, all he had to do was tell you but that was a conversation for another day.

▼・ᴥ・▼

taglist. if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you!!

@anikazoldeck • @hakunamatatayqueen • @alilsumnsumn • @sukunaslefttesticle • @hawksyoongi • @rivviespens • @kenmas-nintendoswitch • @myumyutie • @unicorngluttony • @bloomyagi • @shantellmcintosh • @queenhxla • @yeyehdom • @persies-main • @yikes-buddy • @nnmesis • @thehandsresisthim • @hinatabokeboke • @joongsite • @amazinghefi • @sarcasticambiguity • @mr-bombastic • @i-am-literally-deranged • @ch0pi • @aonjuh • @www-bubblefish • @meliorist-midoriya • @maizurie • @idkdude776 • @midarislonglostlefteye • @queerloser17 • @franklyrobin • @ravioliplease • @ashsera • @chirumi • @yamashiro888 • @xxjosiexx • @krstnn • @bbsista • @seij6hs • @franklyrobin • @chirumi • @melodysakura

[brandyllyn]

Validation

Summary: Santi comes home early to find his new roommate a little undressed.

(Santiago “Pope” Garcia x f!Reader) Part 2 : Corroboration

My Masterlist

Word count: 5600 (I don’t know what the fuck happened). Read it on AO3.

Rating: NC17 (Explicit) 

Warnings: oral (m & f receiving). alcohol.

Santiago slammed his truck door shut, leaning forward for a moment to press his forehead to the steering wheel. He needed to stop online dating. The chicks he picked up after hours in bars might not be the kind he ended up keeping around - but at least there he knew what he was getting into. The woman he had met tonight was using a picture of her granddaughter on her profile. And yeah, he didn’t have a problem with older ladies, but twice his age was really too much.

He groaned as he started the engine, swearing to himself and backing out of the spot. All he wanted to do was go home, get drunk, and maybe watch some basketball in his underwear. But he couldn’t.

Because you were there.

The light turned red and he coasted to a stop, mulling the issue over. It was a favor for Frankie. Put his sister-in-law up for a couple of weeks. Maybe a month while you were looking for a job in town. They didn’t have room at the Morales house, what with the baby and all, and Frankie had begged Santi to let you use his guest room for a bit. He’d agreed. 'Cause he was a nice guy and Frankie was a brother.

And to be honest, you weren’t exactly a horrible roommate. You cleaned up after yourself, spent most of your time in your room, and just generally gave him his space. Unless it was one of the nights you offered to cook, he barely saw you.

Which was a shame because you were exactly his fucking type.

"Do not fuck her." Frankie’s warning had hit him like a fist to the gut and he’d looked at the other man incredulously.

"Fish, you think I’d do that to you? She’s fucking family."

Frankie had eyed him dubiously. "Damn right she is. You fucking remember that when you meet her hermano."

It had taken approximately three tenths of a second for Santi to realize why Frankie had given him the warning. Standing on his front steps with a bag in one hand and a wide smile on your face Santi had had to resist the urge to throw you up against the front door and claim you then and there. The first day he had been a mess, alternating between staring at you and avoiding you. He knew you must have thought he was strange but he didn’t know what else to do.

And then you’d come out to get coffee the next morning wearing a tank top and a pair of tiny cotton shorts and every ounce of blood had shot straight to his cock and never come back.

Tonight was supposed to be a relief. A fucking date, his first since your arrival. But the octogenarian was a bust and he was pressing the button for the garage by barely eight thirty. He was home much earlier than he expected. Earlier than he had told you. He didn’t think about that fact as he parked his truck and entered the house through the side door. Didn’t think about it when he toed his boots off and wandered through the laundry room and into the hall, making a beeline for the kitchen and the bottle of tequila on the shelf there.

Maybe he should have.

If he’d have thought about it he might have called ahead. Texted to let you know he was going to be back sooner rather than later. Given you a heads up so that he didn’t walk in on you sitting in his favorite armchair wearing the skimpiest lingerie he’d ever seen in his life and about to take a photo of yourself.

There was just a moment before you noticed him. A moment where the phone blocked him from your view entirely and he couldn’t help how he froze, his eyes scanning over your body. And then your hand dropped, your brow furrowing as you looked at the picture. Another second ticked by before you looked up at him and then you screeched.

Santi spun on his heel, turning to face the wall and squeezing his eyes shut for good measure. "Fuck, sorry," he said, the words spilling out as he pressed one hand through his hair. He could hear you scrambling, muttering curses under your breath for a minute before your laughter shocked him out of his secondhand embarrassment.

"For Christ’s sake, turn around Santi."

He did so slowly, half hoping that maybe you were still… but no. You had a robe on, sash tied tightly around your waist. Yet even then, it was short. Barely covering the tops of your thighs. He’d seen that much leg before, those little shorts that made his fingers itch. But there was something about this expanse of skin. Of knowing that if he lifted the hem of the robe you’d be wearing just a lace-

"I thought you were going to be out late?"

Your voice cut off his train of thought and he tried to slip into his normal charm like it was a mask. "Yeah, date was a bust." He shrugged, walking past you into the kitchen. He really needed a drink. He slammed a cabinet door a little too forcefully while he searched for the bottle he swore he just bought.

"Want some wine?"

He raised an eyebrow when he looked at you, then at the nearly empty bottle of wine you were offering him. Well, that made things make a little more sense. You didn’t seem the type to take nudes - but maybe after a bottle of wine…?

He took the bottle, emptying the remainder into a glass and clinking it to yours before taking a sip. "Sorry I startled you."

You shrugged and the sleeve of the robe fell down your arm, exposing the wide straps of whatever the hell it was you had wrapped around your neck and dipping down to your breasts. It wasn’t a bra. Santi had seen hundreds of bras in his life. Whatever it was you were wearing did not qualify for the name. You pulled the sleeve back up with a casual tug, but now the front was gaping open and Santi could see the hint of your breasts.

"Sorry you walked in on that."

He wasn’t. In fact he was already mentally planning how he might set up this same situation again. What else might you do in the living room if you thought you were alone for the night? "Don’t worry about it, I told you to make yourself at home." Jesus Christ had he really just said that? "Who’s the lucky guy?" He grinned to cover the slight note of envy that crept into his voice.

"Who?"

"Whoever you were taking photos for," he gestured at your phone.

You bit your lip and then shook your head. "No, it’s not… there’s no he."

"She," Santi corrected with a shrug. "I don’t judge."

You laughed and Santi watched the way your throat worked. His beer at dinner and the wine now must be interacting in some strange way because he felt drunk. Light-headed. Like he wanted to lean into you and make some very bad decisions that Frankie would fucking castrate him for.

"No, it was… for a friend," you clarified.

Santi’s eyebrow rose. "You send your friends nudes?"

"They’re not nudes," you corrected him with a glare, "they’re just. You know… you send your friends photos and they hype you up. It’s validation." You sighed softly, "And it’s been a while since I got that."

Santi did not know. At no point in his life had he sent anyone he knew photos of himself. With clothes or without. Hell, he’d never even sent anyone a sexy message - he knew too well how much information someone could find on you if they wanted to. He kept things simple with a 'Mind if I come over' or if he was feeling particularly adventurous 'wanna fuck?'

No one ever complained.

"Validation," he repeated, rolling the word in his mouth. "Huh."

You sighed, setting your elbows on the kitchen island and leaning towards him. You didn’t seem to notice how the action pressed your breasts together or that he could see it in the way your robe gaped open. But Santi noticed. Santi noticed every detail.

"Not that you’d know anything about that." You said with an eye roll. "But some of us aren’t as cocky as you are. Some of us need our friends to reassure us we’re attractive."

Santi opened his mouth then paused, thinking about the next thing he was going to say. You didn’t seem to notice, finishing off your wine in a gulp and moving over to the sink to drop your glass. He shouldn’t do what he was about to do. He knew it - in fact he had promised he wouldn’t. But that had been before. Before he knew you or what your laugh sounded like or the way you smelled. Before the opportunity to do more than just want you had landed squarely in his lap and Santi was left with the easiest decision of his life. And he was nothing if not decisive.

After all, there was no harm in looking right?

"I’m your friend."

You froze in place and Santi swallowed, staring at the back of your thighs and what he thought might be the start of the swell of your ass. He let the words sit there before he said them again. "I’m your friend, querida."

You turned back to him, hands braced on the counter behind you. "What do you mean?"

"If you needed validation, why don’t you ask me?" Your lips parted as you stared at him, the soft gesture enough to send blood rushing to his cock. As if he weren’t already hard enough.

Finally, after what felt like eons, you smiled, huffing a laugh and moving to walk past him. "Funny."

He moved just slightly, not enough to block your way, but enough to force you to have to work to avoid him. He breathed deeply, smelling your soap and a faint overlay of something richer.  "I’m a red-blooded man," he pointed out. "I think I can be reasonably counted on to appreciate a woman’s body."

You were so close. Close enough that he would only need to lean in to taste you, to run his tongue along your plush lips and sink inside of you. You blinked, looking away, and Santi realized that maybe he was coming on a little strong. Especially for someone who until recently had expressed no interest in you whatsoever. In fact had gone out of his way to give every impression of not being interested.

He held his hands up, moving to make plenty of room for you to continue by. "I’m only saying, if you’re looking for someone to admire your lingerie I’m right here and willing." He waggled his eyebrows exaggeratedly, hoping the comical effect would lighten the mood and thank God it did. Your nose crinkled when you looked back over your shoulder at him, stopping near the kitchen table.

"I mean, I suppose you are my target audience," you mused out loud and Santi resisted the urge to adjust himself. He knew what you meant - but damn the idea of you buying lingerie for him was like gasoline on an already raging inferno.

He leaned his hands back against the island, facing you now. Feet crossed in front of him to hide the bulge in his jeans. He shrugged nonchalantly, listening to the blood rush in his ears, his eyes glued to your face. "Only if you want."

Your fingers were hesitant for just a second on the tie of your robe and Santi held himself still, keeping his eyes on yours. He wanted to see you. Fuck he wanted to see you. But he wanted you to want him to see you even more. Wanted you to feel the sense of power in turning him on. He was already there, you just hadn’t seemed to notice yet.

He saw your lips part. Saw the moment your lips quirked, as though you were laughing at yourself for even thinking of doing this. But your fingers pulled the sash and you shrugged and both it and the robe fell to the floor in a heap at your feet.

Santi tried. He really did. He tried to keep his eyes on yours until he saw that you were ready. That you were comfortable. But one of your hands twitched up to cover your stomach for a moment and his eyes followed the path immediately and then he couldn’t look away. There was probably a name for what you were wearing. He should definitely ask you at some point because his porn for the next month was going to feature this thing and it would make the search easier if he knew what it was called.

A wide band of lace - maybe two inches, in deep blue - starting behind your neck and running over your breasts to cover each nipple. The lace continued downwards, framing your stomach before meeting and disappearing between your thighs. There were small straps that went from the lace behind your back, out of sight, that must be holding the thing in place. In the front two sets of straps criss-crossed, one just below your ribcage and the other between your breasts. And right there, right between two of the most beautiful breasts he’d ever seen, was a ribbon tied into a bow. Like a present.

He wanted to pull it apart with his teeth.

This… outfit had no practical use. If you moved too quickly you’d be falling out of it six different ways. It’s only purpose was to frame your body in the best light possible. To take your assets and offer them to someone else. To entice someone to commit several different sins with you all at once.

Santi was fucking enticed.

He realized abruptly that your fingers were twitching at your sides and more importantly, he had been just staring at you with no expression at all for what felt like several minutes - although it probably wasn’t that long.

"You’re beautiful," he blurted out.

Oh fuck, it wasn’t the right thing to say because you’re laughing and the motion is doing frankly amazing things to your breasts. But you were also crouching down and gathering your robe and yes that was definitely the wrong thing and he stepped forward, reaching out and grabbing your wrist before you could move further.

"Sorry, that was… you look…" he tried to find words that weren’t going to make you run away but all he could think about was how much he wanted to fuck you and if that lace actually joined together over your cunt or just skimmed around your thighs. "Fuck," he finally bit out.

"Well, that’s better," you said, picking up the robe with two fingers and standing up again.

"It is?" He asked incredulously and you laughed again.

"Santi, if I wanted someone to call me beautiful I’d take a photo on a Sunday morning and send it to my mom." You tried to make a gesture with your hands but he was still holding your wrist. You both glanced at it but he didn’t let go. "I want to hear I look hot. Like I’m smoking. Like you think you’ll come in your pants just seeing me." You gave him a wry smile and started to pull away. Started to put your robe back on and Santi rushed to stop you.

"Querida if you knew what I was thinking…"

You paused, partially turned away, and gave him an assessing glance. "Oh?"

His thumb stroked across your wrist while he considered his next words. He wouldn’t ordinarily. Fucking hell you were Frankie’s sister-in-law and he’d already been promised consequences for messing around with you. But your pulse was wild beneath his fingers and you were standing there looking like that and he just couldn’t bring himself to care about the consequences.

"You look like a fucking wet dream."

You dropped the robe, turning back to him fully. But he was too close. Too close to see you so he took a step back, then another, not letting go of your hand but holding it up between you while he let his eyes crawl over you.

"I’m going to jerk off later thinking about you," he said simply, watching you so closely he saw how your breath stuttered at the words. "Think about twisting my hands into that lacy bit of nothing and using it to hold you to my mouth. Is it scratchy or is it soft?"

"Soft," your reply was so low he barely heard it but it flowed across his skin like honey regardless and he didn’t bother biting back his moan.

"Fuck, of course it is," he nearly spit the words out, his fingers clenching around yours. "But you look even softer. Can I see the back?" He tugged on your hand as he asked and you didn’t hesitate before spinning around.

There was nothing there.

Well, not nothing. But five pieces of string no wider than fucking scotch tape was so close to nothing as to make no difference. He wanted to touch. Wanted to snap those strings against your body. Get on his knees and bite the globes of your ass that were perfectly exposed to him around the lines of what might charitably be called a thong.

"Fucking hell querida, I want to bend you over that table and fuck you until you can’t remember your own name."

You moaned. He heard it, clear as a bell in the room and he turned you back to face him. "When I say you look beautiful, that is what I mean. That I want to lose myself inside of you and not come out for days."

"That’s…" you trailed off, lips parted, your breath lifting your breasts in rhythmic motion.

"Validation?" He asked with a grin and laughed when you smiled in return.

"Yeah."

You were still holding his hand and he was sick of standing so far away from you. He pulled in the same motion he stepped towards you, encouraging you closer to his space. Looking down he could see your bare feet just a scant inch from his toes. If you took a deep breath your nipples would brush his shirt, hell if he took a deep breath they might. Ever so slowly he raised his free hand, hovering it over your chest before asking, "May I?"

"Please."

He groaned. Not 'yes,' but 'please' - said with a breathy moan that struck right to the heart of him. You were begging for his touch, your mouth slightly agape and your lips trembling with each breath. No man on earth could fault him for giving in. When his fingers touched the band of lace you took a shaky breath, eyes closing.

"It is soft," he commented, slipping his hand beneath to rub the fabric between his fingers. He slid his hand down, gently tracing over the lace until he felt the hard peak of your nipple pressing upwards. He paused for a second, lightly stroking, your entire body shifting underneath his touch, before he continued the path downwards. Over your stomach, your hip, just barely stroking at the top of your cunt.

"Soft," he said again and pressed his fingers a little harder, slipping between your lips and nudging at your clit. Your head fell back on a choked gasp and Santi’s control snapped. His hand wedged further, feeling your wetness coat along his fingers and forcing you to take a step back. Your ass hit the table behind you and he gently nudged your knees apart with his own. Now he had his answer, the lace never did join together between your thighs. There was absolutely nothing to stop him from twisting his fingers and pressing them up inside you.

You gasped again, his name this time, and he let go of your wrist to cup the back of your neck, jerking you forward and into his mouth. His tongue thrust inside, met immediately and enthusiastically by yours. Your hands came up to clutch at his shirt, twisting the fabric so hard he heard a faint rip at the seams. His lips quirked as he pulled away, his free hand falling to your wrist again.

"Seems I might be overdressed."

You nodded so earnestly he couldn’t help but grin, swooping in to kiss you again and pressing your hand to the buttons of his shirt. He could do it himself but that would mean pulling his fingers out of the hottest and wettest cunt he’d ever had the pleasure of being inside. And he wasn’t ready to do that yet. Instead he traced his fingers over the bow between your breasts, pulling gently before breaking away to ask, "What happens if I undo this?"

You had his shirt pulled free of his pants, the buttons undone and the fabric pushed back over his shoulders. He’d be more cocky about the lusty look on your face while you stared at his chest but he wanted an answer to his question so he tapped beneath your chin and forced you to look up. "The bow? What happens if I pull it?"

Your brows pulled together and you glanced down. "I think it’s decorative."

He hummed to himself and pulled, slightly disappointed when you turned out to be right. The sound of you undoing his belt hit his brain before he fully processed what your hands were doing and he finally pulled his fingers away from you, catching both of your wrists in his grip. You pouted, lips pursing and brow furrowing. Chuckling, he brushed his lips over yours and let you go, leaning down slightly to cup under your ass and lift you the few inches up onto the table.

"You got me distracted," he scolded, hooking one of the dining chairs with his foot and pulling it over. "I promised you my mouth, didn’t I?" Your eyes were hazy and he pressed a kiss to your temple before sitting in the chair, using his hands to spread your thighs wide. He stared for just a moment and then looked up at you, your breasts right at the level of his face. Never losing eye contact, he leaned forward and set his teeth to your nipple.

Christ, you made the most delightful faces for him. And noises too. He reached up and cupped your jaw in his hand, running his thumb along your lower lip where your teeth were digging into the soft flesh. He groaned when you pulled it into your mouth, your tongue caressing it and then sucking softly. He pressed his forehead to your chest, taking a deep breath.

"Lie back." He didn’t move as he said it, just mumbled the words into your cleavage. But he followed you when you did, catching a set of straps with his teeth and then letting go to turn his cheek to lay on your stomach. Slowly, he drew his fingers out of your mouth and down your body, grinning to himself when you shivered beneath his touch. Ticklish - he’d have to remember that for later.

He pressed a quick kiss to your navel and sat up, pulling your knees over his shoulders in one movement. You arched beneath him and he wasted no time tangling his fingers in that lacy bit of nothing you were wearing and pulling you closer to the edge of the table. He could see how wet you were, hell he could fucking smell it. That heady scent of arousal that made his cock jerk and his mouth water.

Santi moaned when he tasted you for the first time. It was partially technique, he knew the vibrations would riot across your nerve endings and drive you wild. But it was also just because he couldn’t fucking help it. He slid his tongue through your folds, pressing his tongue flat to you and burying his face into your cunt. He loved this. Loved making a woman squirm and moan for him. Loved the feel and taste and sound of it.

Loved that in this moment you were his.

He jerked his fingers tighter into the straps of your lingerie, digging into your hips and holding you still while he worked you with his tongue. Pressing his lips to your clit and shaking his head side to side, flicking his tongue over it, pulling it between his lips and humming. He pulled out every trick he knew, watching you heave and thrust and arch in his hands while he learned what you liked, what you didn’t like, and what drove you absolutely wild.

When he found that he kept at it, driving you higher and higher. Listened to you calling his name out while he coaxed your orgasm out of you. He wanted to be inside of you, wanted to feel the clench and pulse of your muscles while you came on his fingers. But before he could consider it, before he could try to untangle his fingers from your lingerie, your back arched a final time and he felt you get even wetter, your thighs clenching on his head.

Santi kept his mouth pressed against you while you came back down, gently licking deep inside you and staring up your body. You rose, propping yourself up on your elbows and giving him a bemused half smile and a huff of laughter.

"That was…" You started to say but he thrust his tongue inside you, pulling you closer and grinned when your back arched and your head fell back. "Fucking hell Santi…"

He turned his head to each side, placing soft kisses on your thighs before leaning back to look at you. "What else are friends for?"

God you were beautiful when you laughed, your eyes crinkling and your face breaking into a huge smile. "I feel very validated," you commented wryly and he nipped at your stomach, watching you flinch away from him and try to move backwards along the table. He twisted his hands in your outfit tighter, pulling you back.

"Now now," he tsked. " Where do you think you’re going?"

You stared at him and then sighed, reaching out and brushing a curl off his forehead. "You’re too close."

Santi felt his brows pull together. "What do you mean?"

Sitting up fully, you cupped his face in your hands and leaned down to kiss him, tongue stroking along the seam of his mouth. Tasting yourself on him. You pulled away with a small hum. "You’re too close to the table, I can’t fit in your lap."

The screech of the chair legs was loud in the room but it was covered up by the sound of your laugh. Santi pulled you off the table and onto his thighs, catching the joyful noise with his lips. You wrapped yourself around him immediately, settling onto him like you’d done it a thousand times before. This was… all of your bare skin. On him. Around him. At his fingertips.

He groaned when you pulled your mouth away. "I know there was talk of bending me over the table…" Okay, yes, he was listening. "But I was thinking maybe a softer surface, something more conducive to taking our time…"

The hesitancy in your voice hit him hard and he squeezed your sides and pulled your mouth back to his. "That is a fantastic idea," he mumbled against you. "I know of this great place just down the hall. King size bed. Just changed the sheets yesterday."

Your giggle sent pulse points of sensation through his body and he helped you stand up, unable to stop himself from leaning forward and pressing a kiss between your breasts before he did the same. He motioned you ahead of him down the hall. By all rights he should be leading - it was his room you were going to - but he couldn’t resist the opportunity to walk behind you. To watch all of you dip and sway as you sauntered in front of him. He reached out and cupped under your ass, pinching slightly and watched you jump and turn around right in his doorway. He didn’t stop, kept walking, shrugging out of his shirt and letting it drop to the floor. His hands fell to your hips, holding you close and dipping his head down to kiss you while he continued to back you up towards his bed.

He had a moment of disappointment when you ducked out of his embrace before you got there, side-stepping him and trailing a hand across his chest while you moved behind him. He leaned back against you when you wrapped your arms around his chest, groaning as your hands glided over him. You pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, licking up to his hairline. A shudder wracked his body and his hands covered yours, pulling you tighter around him.

"I want to see you," he heard you murmur into his ear, dropping one hand to his belt. "Help?"

"Anything you want," he promised quickly, pulling the belt free and jerking his pants and socks off together. He was left in only his black briefs and his thumbs hooked on them before he felt you stop him with a light touch. You ran your hands around the band, toying with it slightly. His fists clenched at his sides while he resisted the urge to turn around and toss you over onto his bed.

"May I return the favor?"

"What fa-" he started to ask but the words ended in a groan when you slipped your hand beneath his briefs and cupped the hard length of him. Fuck yes. Whatever the favor was you could return it as many times as you liked. As long as you kept stroking along him with those soft fingers and your other hand pushing his underwear down, down, down… much further down than you should be able to reach. It wasn’t until he felt you nip gently just at the top of his thigh that he realized you were kneeling on the floor behind him.

He turned without prompting, kicking his briefs off and nearly fell to the ground himself when you immediately took him in your mouth. "Oh Jesus fuck querida," he moaned, cupping the back of your head in his hands, "you’re going to kill me."

The pleased little hum that vibrated along his cock made his spine tingle. It turned into a shudder when you slid your mouth down him and felt himself nudge the back of your throat for a moment before you pulled away. Your hands were on him, thumbs pressed to the tops of his thighs as you guided him into a slow steady rhythm. Fucking in to your mouth and your tongue working against him.

He ought to close his eyes. The visual of you kneeling on the floor, that scrappy bit of nothing that was going to haunt his fucking dreams, your lips wrapped around his cock - it was too much. He jerked one hand off your head to grip the base of his cock tightly, giving you a half smile when you stopped sucking on him and gave him a quizzical look.

"You’re too good at that," he said with a shrug.

There was no way he could miss the pleased expression on your face, or the way you took the tip of him back into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him. Your hand knocked his out of the way, guiding it back on to your head and then going back to stroke along him. It felt like you were taking all of him - every last inch into that perfect mouth. He let go of his tightly held control and just surrendered to the pleasure. Mentally cataloguing the sight and sound and feel of you and the best goddamn blowjob he’d ever had.

When he came it was sudden, he didn’t even have time to warn you. His toes curled and his eyes rolled back in his head and he grunted - the only sign before he was coming in to your mouth but you didn’t seemed phased, just sucked and fucking hell swallowed as he shuddered and cursed and stroked your face.

When the last drop of pleasure was wrung out of him he stumbled backwards, knees hitting the bed and he sprawled across it. His chest was heaving, one arm over his eyes while he tried to remember what his name was. He peeked out from under his forearm in time to see you rise to your feet, wiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb and licking it.

"Fucking hell woman," he groaned, lifting his head slightly to look at you.

Your hands rose to the neck of the lingerie you had on. "Should I-?"

"Don’t you fucking dare," Santi growled, pointing at you for good measure and flopping back on the bed. "I’m not done with you," he said to the ceiling. "Just give me like… thirty minutes."

Your laugh floated across the room to him and he felt your weight shift the bed to each side of him. Suddenly his vision was you, straddling his waist and leaning over him. "Thirty minutes huh?"

He grinned and reached out to pull your hips closer. Smiling to himself he ran his fingers under the lace, rubbing it between his fingers. "With this thing? Maybe ten."

Frankie was going to murder him.

Somehow, he couldn’t make himself care.

-

Part Two : Corroboration

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating John McClane

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You and John meeting is all thanks to a security system with faulty wiring. 

- The shop you worked at had an alarm system that one could politely refer to as “temperamental”; you preferred calling it an asshole. It’d been making the entire staff crazy for the past few months but had ultimately been considered a harmless annoyance; up until it decided to sound off at an imaginary intruder as you and an equally clueless coworker were alone in the shop. 

- There was absolutely no plausible way that someone could have managed to get in without either of you seeing them, and if they had, the alarm had obviously immediately scared them off, meaning that both of you were left to flounder at the keypad in hopes of turning it off before the machine could pointlessly bother whoever would be forced to respond.

- Alas, neither of you were successful in your attempts and were left standing there like two guilty puppies until an officer; officer McClane, pulled up to the scene.

- Thankfully, he found the situation amusing and laughed it off, giving the place a quick once over; as per protocol, before he told the two of you to have a good day and returned to his vehicle. 

- Once he was gone, your coworker nudged you and told you how he was “giving you the eyes”, prompting both of you to share a laugh as you started to continue on with your tasks for the day. You figured that she was just teasing you but as it would seem, her statement held a lot more truth than you’d previously given her credit for. 

- John returns to the shop later that week and since the place is empty, the two of you get to talk at the counter for a little while. You somewhat jokingly mention how the owner had finally gotten the security system fixed and he laughs, telling you that “that’s good” before he says something along the lines of “well, since I can’t rely on that thing calling me back here anytime soon, you think I could get your number?”. 

- You obviously oblige and write your name and number down on a spare scrap of paper for him, smiling as he thanks you quietly and heads out the door. He calls you later that day and asks you out, leading to the two of you grabbing a few drinks after both of you finish up with work. 

- You like John; you really do, but he’s a busy man who has a bad habit of assuming that people understand what he’s thinking/going through. The two of you get along great and you can really see yourself falling for him; if you haven’t already, but dealing with a bunch of great dates then radio silence until you’re right on the edge of losing his number is starting to get on your nerves. 

- Its the reason you agree to go on a blind date that your coworker arranged for you: you figure that it’s best to play the field in case one of Johns breaks from communication turns into a permanent thing. So, while John is busy with work and figuring that you’re aware of how he feels about you, you’re dressing up to go out with a mystery man. 

- The date itself isn’t necessarily a disaster but he really isn’t your type. In retrospect, you probably would’ve given him a second chance just to be sure of how you felt about him but any hope of that happening was dashed the minute John stepped through the doors of the building. 

- By pure coincidence, your other lover had spotted you through the window of the diner and decided that he’d stop by for a cup of coffee and snack; using it as an excuse to “get a closer look”. 

- In a move that he’ll admit is somewhat petty, he stood right beside the two of you at the counter while ordering his drink, looking down at you and casually asking how you’re doing, making polite conversation with your date while you just stared at him in shock. 

- After a few minutes of them talking, he asked if the guy owned a certain type of car, right before letting him know that he “saw someone going through it”, leading to your date excusing himself to check on his vehicle. 

“Having fun?” He’d asked once the man was outside the diner. You responded with a ‘sure’ and tried your best to ignore how arguably awkward the situation was.

“You know, it’s funny cause I coulda sworn that we were dating? So it’s just real strange seeing you here with another guy, you know?” Those were his next few words, laced with sarcasm and a passive aggressive tone. 

“You’ve hardly even called me this week John. And it’s not like you’ve asked me to be your girlfriend. As far as I’m concerned I’m single and can do or go out with whatever or whoever I want,” You explain. “And not that it’s any of your business but it just so happens that this date is a favor to a friend of mine.”

- Those words knock the gloom right out of him and he silently realizes what an ass he’s been. The two of you stay silent for a few moments before he asks how your date is “doing”; in implied regards to whether you like him or not. You quietly tell him that he’s a nice guy and john nods, right before pointing to the plate of food the guy had ordered for you and saying how he “thought you hated that”. 

- You can’t help but laugh because you do, in fact, hate it: the guy had told you that you “had to try it” and you didn’t know how to insist that you really weren’t a fan. 

- The two of you laugh together for a little while and just before your date returns, he asks if he can take you out for some “real food”; “unless you’re too full from that”. You agree and he walks away, your date catching him on the way out and happily informing him that nothing was stolen; which John pretends to be glad about since he’d been bold face lying the entire time. 

- When your date sits down and asks “what?” in regards to your smile, all you can do is shake your head and say “nothing”, prodding the food on your plate with your fork. 

- And just like that, everything had fallen into place….

- John likes to act like he’s disgusted by pda but in actuality, he's a hypocritical liar. He'll sit there and grimace at other couples clinging to each other but if you were to do the exact same thing, he’d have absolutely no problem with it whatsoever.

- He himself doesn’t initiate a lot of affection while you’re out in public but he will wrap an arm around you and kiss your cheek. He prefers simple things like that rather than a ton of mushy and overdramatic stuff; he’s kind of closed off so it’s just in his nature. 

- Tight hugs.

- Having kisses pressed across your entire face; usually with extra attention paid to your lips once he reaches them. 

- Hard and quick kisses or long and deep ones; it all depends on what sort of mood he’s in and the reasoning behind why his lips are touching yours. 

- He’s a lot more touchy when the two of you are in private so expect a lot of close proximity and affection. 

- He’ll almost always want to cuddle you whenever you’re in bed together and if you think you’ll just quietly slip out of his arms once he’s fallen asleep, you are sorely mistaken. A simple trip to the bathroom results in him drowsily sitting up on his elbow and waiting for you to come back to bed just so he can lift the covers up and turn you back into his little spoon; imagine if you were just at arms length. 

- He’ll usually just call you baby or honey but he’ll definitely sprinkle in other pet/nicknames from time to time; along with using your actual given name. 

- Soft, loving looks.

- Taking turns cooking dinner for each other: though, when it’s his turn, he’ll usually just disguise takeout as something that he’s made and the both of you will pretend that you don’t realize it.

- Speaking of: a night in with cheap takeout and a television show/rented vhs is one of his favorite kinds of dates. After a hard day of restraining himself from committing a crime against criminals, there’s nothing better than just lounging on his beat up old couch and relaxing for a bit; especially with you by his side.

- Game shows are his guilty pleasure so chances are, if Jeopardy is on, you’re watching it.

- He’s also a film buff so movie dates are a very common thing for the two of you.

- Bar dates.

- Going to the arcade together.

- Most of the time, he really just prefers staying home; especially compared to going out to parties and things like that. He’ll take having you to himself over having to share you any day.

- He almost never comes to your house empty handed: there’s always something that he’s bought or rented for the two of you to enjoy; or just to make your life a little more convenient. It’s pretty common for him to run over to a shop when he notices you’re out of something or remembers you talking about wanting “it”; he likes seeing you happy even though he brushes off your gratitude.

- John is just a regular dude and what I mean by that is that he’s not used to fancy anything. Drinks, transportation, parties, etc: he’s always just had or experienced the average mans version of them so simple things are what he’s most comfortable with. He’ll buy you fancy wine or whatever else he can afford but he’ll be damned if he’s drinking anything other than the can of beer that’s in his fridge.

- If you have a problem around the house, chances are he can probably fix it. He might end up injuring himself or cursing a total of 57 times while he does it but he’ll manage; and he’ll almost always insist on giving it a try before you call someone.

- He seems like the type of person to fuck with telemarketers/scammers for his own; and your, amusement. Being harassed by your cars extended warranty? Not on his watch.

- Him getting the name of things/places wrong is sort of an inside joke for the two of you. You have to consistently remind him what his coworkers names are and what the actual name of the restaurant he chose was; and sometimes he’ll do it to a purposefully ridiculous extent just to make you look at him in hopes that he’s joking.

- Loving reunions after not seeing him for a while.

- He legitimately sucks when it comes to surprises. He’ll badger you into telling him or letting him open whatever present you got him the minute you mention it; he is absolutely incapable of waiting. 

- Reading the funny pages together.

- Surprisingly enough, John is actually pretty in touch with his inner child; which means he can happily let loose and enjoy things that others may consider “juvenile”.

- God help you if the two of you have kids because even though he’s a good father, he cannot for the life of him control his mouth and your child’s first words will end up being “fuck”.

- Getting used to his rather dark sense of humor.

- Catching him talking to himself when he’s particularly stressed or focused on something.

- Accidentally adopting yippee-kay-yay into your own vocabulary.

- Exchanging sarcastic comments.

- Him stopping by to see you whenever he’s in the area during his patrol; which usually means he’s visiting you at work.

- Everyone at the station knowing you by name; he’s notorious and you’ll be too.

- Vague yet concerning replies whenever you ask him how work was. Obviously he’s a police officer and he’s handled a lot of crime, but does he have to be so nonchalant when talking about active shooters? Sir, that was your life on the line, at least try to sound relieved when you make it out of there unscathed.

- Trying to be there for him as best as you can. He’s not nearly as good at being supportive as you are but he does genuinely care for you and will try to put in the effort when he can tell you need it.

- Randomly being put in danger because you’re his girlfriend and he’s a slut for vigilantism.

- He’s never pretended as though he were perfect and both of you are aware that he can sometimes seem uncaring, but you’ll see exactly how much you mean to him the minute he gets the idea in his head that you’re somehow in danger.

- You can be totally unaware of it too: some criminal sends him a clue that makes him think you’re in trouble and that's it. Man is at your house, busting down your door and waving his gun around while you’re standing in the kitchen just making noodles. All he can do after that is let out a breath, drop his gun to the floor and silence you with the tightest hug you’ll ever receive. Good luck leaving his sight for the rest of the week.

- Trying to convince him not to be an idiot so you don't have to see him dead from his vigilantism addiction.

- He drives you crazy but you love him anyway.

- He’s a pretty jealous person but it’s usually with reason. He might accidentally take it out on you and bombard you with questions as though anyone else’s interest in you is your fault but depending on the situation, you can usually just brush off his comments. 

- He’s naturally a protective person so his inherent need to take care of people goes beyond just you. Like obviously he would kill for you but he’d also kill for all your loved ones as well: everyone in your family/friend group knows to call you if something goes south because John will head over to help them no questions asked. 

- Depending on the type of person you are, arguments can become a pretty frequent thing, though thankfully, most of your fights are pretty calm and level headed. He kind of has a habit of starting fights without meaning to and will beat himself up for it after he’s “ruined the mood”.

- John is terrible at verbally saying that he’s sorry so the two of you will either argue it out until the issues resolved or you’ll just move on from it like nothing happened. They may not be the most ideal options but they’re the most common. 

- He tells you that he loves you constantly and is like 99% sure that you’re sick of hearing it, but he’ll never be sick of saying it nor hearing you say it back. 

- He is legitimately just waiting for the perfect moment to make you Mrs. McClane. You’ll get a ring on that finger and will be stuck with him for the rest of your life. 

[sluttbuttsstuff]

For the prompts, 49 with doppio? >:3 Idk what it is about him I just look at him and think “oh you’re NEEDY needy, huh?”. Thank you so much, you’re a really good writer! :)

No problem buddy, thanks for the request! >:3

Warnings: not sfw, dubcon/noncon, abduction, dark themes, yandere, etc.

Also, my requests are still open, if anyone else is interested!

Enjoy!

Yandere prompt with Doppio, “You want me to fuck you…? Would that make you happy? Would it make you love me?” afab reader, dub/non con

All you wanted to do now was go home. You had had a long week at work, your parents were nagging you again, and to make things worse you had a headache that would not go away. After an exhausting day that began before the sun was out, and ended after the sun had set, you certainly deserved to do nothing more than go home, eat some junk food in your comfy pjs, listen to a podcast while you took a bath and pampered yourself, and maybe jerk off before bed. Unfortunately, you had a “girls night” tonight.

Your friends (your IRL friends at least) complained that you never went out with them anymore (nevermind that whenever you suggested doing something with them, or wanted to chat or text on the phone they were busy) and had forced you to go clubbing with them to celebrate the three-day weekend ahead. You weren’t much of a drinker, and really weren’t much of a dancer, so you had been given the purses to hold while you waited for them to be ready to go home.

You wrinkled your nose in frustration, glaring into the blurry screen of your phone looking at the late time: this was unfair. You were a hard worker, kind to a fault to those around you, and you deserved better than this. Sitting in a corner of a crowded club, everyone in the place having a great time except for you, tired and alone. At least in your apartment, you chose to be there, and at least no one actively ignored you: places like this just pointed out the flaws you hated about yourself more: you were bad with people, and easy to ignore.

Once one of your “friends” stumbled over to the group’s table, you left them with everyone's purse, mumbling you were going to the bathroom (you didn’t know if she heard you and you didn’t care) and left before anyone could stop you. You stumbled your way to the restroom in heels way too high for you to walk in, trying to clean yourself up and find a quiet place to text your goodbyes so your friends wouldn’t worry about your sudden disappearance. Leaning over the sink counter, you wiped a makeup smear off the corner of your lips, noticing a second too late someone behind you.

“Hey, there’s another sink-” You began to say to the blurred figure way too close to you, before a sudden eruption of pain hit the side of your head, and you were out in a flash…

The next time you regained consciousness was several hours later, but it was still dark when you opened your eyes, trying to remember what happened and where in the world you were. The stale cigarette smell, the unreasonably cold ac, the bedsheets starched so strongly that the sheets felt like plastic- this was definitely a motel. But where, and how long had you been here? As you began to sit up, you heard a surprised, timid voice.

“Oh, thank goodness! You’re awake, I was beginning to worry about you! Hold on, don’t move so suddenly, i’ll help you sit up.

Sure enough, as you started moving, your head lit up with painful throbbing that made last night’s headache seem like nothing in comparison. You grit your teeth and clenched your eyes shut, trying not to groan in pain.

“What the hell happened to me last night?” you grunted through your teeth, rubbing your temple as gentle hands helped slowly sit you up propped against cushions.

“Haha, you had a lot of bad luck last night, running into my boss. He was waiting for...an employee in the restroom and thought you were sent after him. He’s a bit paranoid, and he may have...accidentally clobbered you.” The voice apologized, gentle as he handed you what felt like a glass of water.

You forced yourself to open your eyes; it was still dark, but you could tell it wasn’t because of the time of day but rather a lack of light and closed curtains. You looked at..you looked at the person in front of you. Like whoever had attacked you last night, they had long pink hair, braided and side parted. Their eyes were green and wide, and they looked particularly juvenile with a crop top and freckles. They were on the smaller side, perhaps even shorter than you (hard to tell from while on the bed) and their eyes were crinkled in apprehension, like he was afraid you were going to hurt him.

“Erm, don’t worry though, I talked him out of doing anything too..extreme, after all I'm his right hand man! Besides, you seem like a perfectly nice person, I'd hate to see anything bad happen to you. Sorry, I'm rambling! Umm, do you want something for your headache? You were groaning in your sleep, I'm sure it doesn’t feel so good right now-” He went on and on, pulling out some painkillers to take with your water.

After thanking him, you were about to swallow the pill before pausing, looking at the strange man who’d taken you to a remote hotel after his boss had nearly killed you. Sensing your suspicion, doppio exclaimed, “Oh, don’t worry, they’re safe, name brand painkillers! Um, hold on, lemme just-” And he made a show of popping some of the pills you were holding into his mouth and swallowing, sticking out his tongue and opening his mouth to show you he’d ingested it.

Satisfied, and more importantly in a lot of pain, you took some of the pills yourself, much to the relief of the pink haired man.

“Oh good, thank you for doing that! I was so worried watching you asleep, you’ll feel much better now! By the way, my name’s Doppio, it’s a pleasure to meet you! Oh! And I know your name’s y/n because you had your purse and ID on you! Haha, sorry for going through your purse, I was just hoping to find any info on you that might be, you know, important.” he sat on the bed, scooching closer and closer to you.

You cleared your throat, unsure of what to say, and the watchful eyes of Doppio doing nothing to make you feel better.

“Well, um, thank you, Doppio. I appreciate you, um, saving me? Sorry for any inconvenience, I'll just, um-” You try to get up to leave, only for Doppio to place a hand over your leg.

“Don’t go! What, I mean, what if you hurt yourself? You probably have a concussion, and also you haven’t had breakfast? We could eat together and-” Doppio stammered, grabbing your hand and stroking it with his sweaty, cold fingers.

You had to stop him, before things got out of hand.

“Thank you, Doppio, it really was very sweet of you to take such good care of me, but I-”

“Please! You don’t understand, I mean-” Doppio fumbled with his words, clearly trying to make you stay at all costs.

“Doppio, i can’t stay here forever, i need to go home. My friends are probably worried about me by now.” You tried to press on, you didn’t want to upset the man with a powerful boss, but you felt increasingly claustrophobic with Doppio pawing at you.

“You mean those mean girls who left you with their purses all night? Why would you care about what they-” Doppio covered his mouth with both hands quickly, realizing what he just said.

Your blood ran ice cold; how did he know so much about them? Had he been watching you before the “incident”

Using his moment of weakness, you got up from the bed and tried to reach the door; it was time for you to go home, if not call the cops.

Doppio yelped, Throwing himself in front of the door before you could make your escape.

“Please, don’t be scared y/n! I didn’t mean to upset you, I only meant that I can treat you much better than your friends can. I mean, look at how good I've been for you so far?? I didn’t make you dance with me at the club, even though I really wanted to. I didn’t just have my fun against your will in the bathroom stall like the boss told me to do.I saved you from a concussion, or worse! I got you your own hotel room for the night, and didn’t take advantage of you or touch you while you were asleep! I want our first time to be special, after all! Isn’t that what you want?” Doppio pleaded, eyes wild as he tried to smile, trying to calm you.

You were anything but calm however, this guy was clearly obsessed with you, and had been for longer than just one night. Even if at first he had merely seemed like a pathetic “nice guy” you no longer had any pity or time to give him.

“Doppio, get away from the door and let me leave, now.” you demanded in your best authoritative voice. Doppio whimpered, this wasn’t how this was supposed to go at all, you were supposed to love him!

“You can’t! Boss and I won’t let you!” He cried, covering the door with his body. With no other choice, you slid out of your shoes and charged at him full speed. You managed to give him a good blow on the head, and threw him out of the way of the door. He cried, crumpled on the ground. If not for the fact that he had kidnapped you, you might have felt bad for hurting him like this, but you had to think of yourself at this moment.

As you finally unlock and pull open the door, heading towards freedom, you hear the strangest noise behind you.

“RingRingRingRingRing!” Doppio calls after you, in an unnatural, high pitched tone. You try to ignore it, you literally don’t have time for this, but with strength he had not previously displayed, Doppio grabs one of your arms, twisting it behind your back and up to his ear, holding it like a telephone.

There’s a trickle of blood, and one of his eyes is rolled back in its socket, but he calmly says, “Hello, this is Doppio,” Into your hand, as if he was having a normal conversation on the phone.

You scream out, doubled over by the pain in your arm, Doppio silent as he “listens” to his “Phonecall” oblivious to your suffering. Where did all this power come from? He was acting like an entirely different person, and frankly scaring you. Doppio nodded, pulling your hand closer into his ear and intently listening to nothing but air before “Hanging up and pulling you back into the motel room.

He threw you on the bed ( his arms felt much stronger, and more muscular for some reason) before crawling on top of you and pinning you down. You were too stunned, and frankly too scared, to come up with any means of escape, just weakly struggling to throw him off of you to no avail.

“Doppio, please-” You whispered, eyes blurry with tears.

“I talked to the boss, and he helped me figure out what to do. He wants our relationship to succeed after all!” Doppio exclaimed, additude reverted to how he’d first spoken to you. You were confused, you’d neither seen nor heard anyone in or around the room, who was he talking to and how?

“Boss told me that people like you need some discipline in order to be obedient, or you’ll walk all over me. If I can do that, then I can make you love me, and we’ll be happy together, isn’t that what you want?” Doppio told you, stroking your cheek.

“This is not okay, Doppio!” you yell, thrashing against both arms, “Let me go or i’ll-”

...

Wait a minute, both arms?

Then how was he…?

You look over to one side in shock, only to see a floating metallic and red arm holding you down, one on either side. You screamed, overwhelmed by a stalker and strange supernatural forces you couldn’t understand.

“Oh, you can see King Crimson's arms? Interesting, perhaps because of your near death experience with Boss, you can see stands now? Although, it would be bad if you developed a stand, what to do?...” Doppio pondered to himself, speaking apparent babble.

You cried, trying to wake up from this obvious nightmare with no luck.

“Awww, hey y/n, it’s okay, i’m not gonna hurt you! Not if you be good for me and Boss.” Doppio cooed, kissing your cheeks and forehead. “I talked boss into keeping you with us- you’re always so lonely at home, and never have a good time with others, right? You don’t have to lie anymore, I've been watching you for a while. Nobody else seems to, though, they’re too self-absorbed and stupid to realize how incredible you are!” He continued, oblivious to his words not helping, but hurting you.

“You’re perfect for me and boss, we can take really good care of you. Forget this lousy motel, we have mansions and villas all over Italy that we can take holidays to. We have billions of Lira from work, you’ll never have to lift another finger and we’ll pamper you to death. And best of all? You’ll never have to see your awful friends or family again! Isn’t it awful how they treat you? We can get rid of them, so they can’t hurt you!” He finishes, grinning ear to ear, but his eyes hollow and lifeless, staring unblinkingly into yours.

This guy was sick, there was no other word to it. You might have had issues with your family, and yeah your friends could be assholes sometimes, but you didn’t want them killed! What good would that do you, or anyone for that matter?!

Doppio seemed to read your thoughts, “Look, I know it's a lot to take in at once, but trust me. Boss and I have planned this out for a while now, and we’re always going to do what’s best for us, ok? So don’t worry so much, and please stop struggling? Boss warned me if you got too unruly he’d take over and finish what he started last night.

A wave of nausea slithered through you as you remembered, thinking how close you were to dying. You gave up, lying limp on the bed, praying for this to end.

Doppio smiled again, this one almost seeming genuine, and gave you the softest kiss to your lips. It was childish, almost, and he clearly lacked experience, but he gained more confidence from your lack of struggling. With the mysterious hands holding you (stands? King crimson?) his own hands were free to touch you. He started With your cheeks, your face, your hair, your neck, stroking you with feather-light touches, his fingers tracing each curve, digit and flaw like he was trying to memorize it all.

“Finally… I finally get to touch you like this… I’ve been waiting for so long, y/n. Do you know how long I've wanted to hold you?” He whispered, wrapping his arms around your neck, cradling your cheek to his. You didn’t know, and you didn’t want to, but Doppio told you anyway.

“I’ve been watching, waiting...for so long. Following you home from work, listening into your calls, finding your online accounts. I’ve known since I first saw you that you were the one for me, and now I get to prove it to you. I get to show you all the things I've been meaning to do to you. You’ll never be lonely again, not with me around. We’ll never be lonely~”

He giggled the last part, giddy with excitement, as he slid his fingers down your ribcage, your sides, fiddling with the bottom of your shirt. You wriggled, trying to fight him off again, only to your dismay Doppio giggled even harder at your reactions-perhaps because he knew you could never overpower him.

“Ohhh~ still so shy? Don’t be so uptight, y/n, you need to live a little! I know how much you want this; you complain about it all the time on your personal blog-” You could feel the blush on your cheeks heating up your face, desperate to make him shut up, “ How you want someone to have their way with you, to make you forget everything else in life. You’re desperate for someone to truly cherish and understand you; mentally and physically. You want me to love you? You want me to fuck you…? Would that make you happy? Would it make you love me?” Doppio rambled on and on, ripping your shirt off with strength he hadn’t had before.

You yelped, goosebumps forming on your skin as Doppio cackled, rubbing his face on your stomach, and into your cleavage poking out from your bra.

“Yes, let go for me! Show me every emotion, everything you’ve been holding back from me for so long- i need it, I demand it!” He snarled, splitting your nicest bra in half, and biting down on your neck, hard.

You screamed, legs kicking uselessly as the pain blurred your mind and you were operating purely on instinct. Doppio didn’t seem bothered in the least by it, you could still feel his laughter against your sore neck, as he sucked down on it, trying to bruise and mark you. His hands couldn’t help but find their way to your breasts, toying with them and squeezing them with admittedly little expertise. But he was a quick learner, making note of each little gasp and twitch according to how he touched you, and improving his technique from there. He twisted your nipples a bit roughly, already hard from the chilly air and sensitive to touch- you couldn’t help but moan a little in satisfaction. It had been awhile.

Doppio’s moans echoed yours, as he kissed his way down the crevice of your breasts, and licked each nipple in turn. You squirmed, not in fear or anger but pleasure, angry at yourself for letting this strange man win your body over so easily. Doppio kept his eyes on you at all times, studying your face to see how you felt. He’d had to watch you for so long from so far away, alone in your bedroom, or so you thought… it was time to use the knowledge he’d gained to make your body crazy for him.

You jumped at Doppio’s hands, cupping your groin through your pants, trying not to buck into his hands . It was getting harder and harder to deny him, though, why couldn’t you just-?

Doppio pulled your pants down to your ankles, taking your panties with it. He groaned audibly at the sight- your pussy was so wet and dripping, there was still a trail connected to your underwear.

“No, don’t-” You cried, snapping your legs shut, visibly scared at what was taking place again. Doppio was losing patience, crouching down and prying your legs open,

“Stop fighting me, y/n, you clearly want this!” He cried, eye twitching in annoyance. He managed to open your legs again, and buried his face into your pussy. He moaned, licking up a wet stripe against your labia, warm and puffy and so wet for him- he knew you would be, he knew you loved him.

Tears streaked down the sides of your face, this was so much and so intense. Your thighs clamped down on Doppio’s cheeks and neck, squeezing him as hard as you could. Not hard enough, apparently, as he just started giggling again through a full mouth and busy tongue “Ssho good, y/n, why have you been hiding thissh from mee~?” he moaned, tongue circling your clit. You flung your head back into the pillow, gripping the mysterious hands that held you for any source of strength or comfort.

Watching you whimper so pitifully with his head between your legs, obviously blissed out after being so needy and alone for so long, just did things to doppio. He loved the pained, fucked out expression on your face- you couldn’t even keep your eyes open as he snuck one, two fingers into your aching pussy. You whimpered so cutely, and it was all for him and him alone. Finally~

“Y/n, please, i can only hold back for so long, let me make sure it’s not painful… be good for me, please?” Doppio begged, grinding his hips into the mattress before he could help himself. Begrudgingly, you moved your thighs back just enough for Doppio to push them away, when he got a wonderful idea. King crimson, or what Boss had lent him of his stand to use, sensed his thought, and grabbed both your hands in one arm. Doppio pushed your thighs back and up, effectively bending your knees into your chest and displaying your pussy in such a beautiful way. You cried out, surprised by the sudden movements and embarrassed by how exposed you were, but there was nothing you could do about it. Doppio was just too strong.

The other free hand floated down, spreading your lips apart to give Doppio a nice view before pummeling two of his thick, strong fingers inside of you. You screamed, crying as the fingers curled directly into your sweet spot, massaging with robotic-like precision and speed. The sounds you were making were wet, animalistic, and you were quickly brought close to the brink.

“Perfect, y/n! Just like that, let yourself go! It makes me happy to see a side of yourself you never show anyone else- and you never will to anyone but me! Remember, I'm the one making you feel this good, right y/n? You couldn’t possibly find anything half as wonderful from anyone else but me! Me, got it?!” Doppio exclaimed, his voice cracking and becoming much darker, scarier. For a second, you could swear he looked like a different person entirely, wild, angry and dangerous- but you blinked and Doppio was just as before.

Doppio licked his lips, sweating and anxious, this was good enough to make you love him, right? This was what he had to do to make you happy? Boss’s words from before appeared in his head though, and he remembered how Boss had always been right before. Doppio trusted him, and was determined to win you over. Doppio let go of one of your legs-you seemed adequately distracted and restrained to get away from him- and unzipped his fly. In truth, he would’ve preferred to get all the way naked with you for the first time, so you could see and feel the real him as well, but clearly the two of you were too desperate and impatient for him to get fully naked. This time.

You whimpered at the sound of a zipper, feeling the fingers pull out of you. You heard the crinkle of a wrapped, and the muffled groan as Doppio probably rolled a condom onto himself, but you were too afraid to look. The strong floating hand, still wet with your juices, gripped your cheek and forced you to look at Doppio, staring you down with much more restraint and calm than he had been. Doppio kissed your cheek, then your lip, and pushed his warm cock achingly slowly, gently, into your waiting pussy.

You couldn’t help yourself from moaning, grabbing at the hands that held you, thrusting yourself onto Doppio’s hard and hot cock. He bit his lip, feeling you twitch and squeeze around him; he was trying so hard to be gentle for you, why were you still making things so difficult. He chuckled to himself, and motioned for King Crimson to let you go; finally you were beginning to relax and enjoy yourself, and he wanted to enjoy every bit of it.

Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around Doppio, holding him close to you. Your mind was a mess, your body even messier, you didn’t know what to think or do about your abducter/rapist fucking you so tenderly, and you were tired of fighting. So you let him fuck you, slowly and gently and way way emotionally. Doppio wiped away new tears you hadn’t realized were there, shushing you, “It’s okay, my sweet y/n. Just relax and let me do the work. Don’t fight it any more, just let go.” He whispered, pressing kisses into your lips and cheeks far too sweetly.

So you did, you relaxed and sank into the mattress, pulling Doppio down with you. He let go of your thighs, and held you tightly to him as he fucked-no, made love to you. He gradually picked up the pace, huffing and whispering words of admiration to you about your body, or how much he adored you. You took it all limply, the fight having gone out of you and desperate for comfort. The floating arms, which you had forgotten about, reappeared and stimulated your nipples and clit, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

Doppio sped up as well, he knew this would have to end, but he wanted to make it last as long as possible. This was your first time together, after all. He wanted to make it special. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper and closer into you. You could feel the spongy head of his dick rub your inside so sweetly, you were starting to get addicted to the feeling. Doppio buried his head into your neck, mumbling nonsense as he pushed in deeper and deeper, faster and faster, as his restraint gave way to passion.

“Y/n I- I don’t know how much longer I can last, but-” He kissed you, as the stroking of your clit sped up. You groaned loudly, you were so close, “Just a bit longer, please~” You begged, biting your lip. Doppio took a deep breath, steeling himself as he was determined to make you come first. He pounded into you, urging you closer and closer, four sets of hands circling your body and drawing out noises and gasps from you out of your control.

“Almost there, please, almost~!!!” You cried, throwing your head back with a final sigh as you came hard and fast, your core heating up and washing over you as Doppio helped you ride it out with clit rubs. Your walls fluttering around him, the face that you made as you came from him, for him, it was too much and he quickly filled his condom inside of you, moaning even louder than you had as he thrust without abandon into your wonderful, most precious place. He didn’t want to stop, thrusting almost to the point of overstimulation, before he had to stop, and collapsed on top of you. He cooed and kissed his praises and thanks into your shoulder and skin, before he noticed the soft sound of you snoring. Poor thing, he chuckled to himself, you’d really worked yourself up.

He reluctantly pulled out, after indulging in 5 minutes of cuddling your sleeping body and listening to your heartbeat. Doppio cleaned the two of you off, and tucked you into the covers of the motel- now would be a good time to set up moving you into your new home. After all, The whole reason you were in the motel is because the moving company Boss had hired to move your things into the main base would take several hours to complete their job, and Boss didn’t want anyone seeing you or Doppio at home. Doppio ruffled your hair as you slept, pulling out his cellphone to check in with Boss and give him the full update he’d requested.

Tonight was going to be very busy.

[violetlilysunshine]

Be Careful

Harry Holland x Actress Reader

Requested

@harryhollandsgirlfriend: Ok, ok, a request for y/n and Harry being in a new relationship and the boys are all hesitant about it and worried y/n is there for the wrong reasons and just Harry defending you and how you all work through that. 🥺

WC: 1,505

Warnings: swearing (one f-bomb)

A/N: Kinda left it between the boys, hope that’s okay. Also first time using a taglist, so hopefully it goes well :)

MASTERLIST - TAGLIST

You’d met the brothers while they were sightseeing in Atlanta, instantly hitting it off with Harry. The two of you had been friendly for a while after that, casually flirting and always finding ways to get together. 

He’d asked you out a little while ago, taking you out secretly. He wasn’t ready to tell anybody, specifically Tom, yet; he didn’t know what they would think, given your history together. They were worried that you were just hanging around with them for the fame, knowing that you wanted to work your way up in Hollywood as well. Of course, it wasn’t really anything to do with you personally, they just felt that they had to be cautious of all new people who came around. 

Harry, however, knew that you were genuine. He had obviously gotten to know you the best and knew that you really cared more about people than fame. Sure you wanted to act, but you also valued privacy, just like he and Tom did. 

Harry met you for lunch a couple days ago, in between scenes just because he wanted to see you. You did little things like this as often as you could, while still keeping things quiet. It was kind of fun sneaking around with him; it made every little second you could steal together even better.

“So, uh, somethings sorta been on my mind,” he stuttered.

“What’s up, bub?” you asked.

“Well I want to tell Tom about us and like, I wanna make sure that’s okay with you.”

“Why are you asking me that, Har?” you chuckled.

“Well, we haven’t told people, so like, I wanna know if it’s okay if I do…”

“You’re the one that didn’t tell Tom,” you pointed out gently, “he’s your brother after all, it’s up to you.”

There was a slight pause in the conversation; you could tell that wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“I just want you to be comfortable,” you soothed him, “It doesn’t bother me if we tell him right now or not, whenever you’re ready.” 

“Well I think I want to tell him,” he said, “I wanna be able to have you over and cuddle on the couch and hold hands around him. Ya know, all the boyfriend stuff…” he trailed off.

“Okay, babe,” you said softly, before repeating, “whenever you’re ready.” 

You smiled gently at him, watching his lips curve up slowly. He was so ready to be open with you and couldn’t wait to get it off his chest. 

“Maybe I should tell him alone,” he added, “ya know, brother to brother…”

“Whatever you want,” you said, grabbing his hand gently under the table.

“I’ll have to tell Haz too, ya know, since he’s always around.”

“That’s fine - whoever you want, whenever you want. And, to be honest, I wanna be able to come over and do all of that too,” you comforted him. 

“Thanks, darling,” he whispered, squeezing your hand for a second before letting go and continuing to eat.

“And for the record, ya know, if we’re telling things…” you trailed.

Harry’s heartbeat quickened at that, “yes, darling?” he questioned, not knowing what could possibly be coming at him. 

“I have told someone,” you whispered.

“Oh,” he said shortly, eyes widening, “when? who?” 

“My best friend, before our first date… ya know, I just wanted to make someone aware of what was going on and who I was going out with and where I would be, ya know, in case something bad happened. Can’t be too careful these days.”

Harry chuckled at that, dropping his head and shaking it lightly.

“But she’s the only one, and she won’t say anything, promise. I mean, she hasn’t yet, so you can trust me when I say that,” you smiled. 

Harry smiled at you widely, “I do trust you,” he whispered, leaning in and pecking you gently.

~~~~~

He decided on Friday that he was going to tell Tom and Harrison about the two of you. Half of him casually wanted to drop it like, “oh yeah, I’m taking Y/N out tonight,” on his way out the door, but the other half of him knew that he just had to be straight up with them. 

They came in from the gym, dropping their bags right in front of the door, arguing about who gets to shower first. 

“You got it first last time!” Harrison shouted at Tom, kicking his shoes off.

“Well I got there before you, mate, not my fault,” Tom countered. 

They stood in the doorway, staring each other down for a second. 

“Not happening today,” Harrison said quietly, taking off running towards his bedroom to get his clothes and hurry to the shower.

Little did he know, Tom had already laid his clothes out on the bed so all he had to do was grab them and go to the bathroom.

The bathroom door slammed upstairs and Harry knew what was coming -

“GOD YOU ARSE!” Harrison screamed, followed by Tom’s loud laugh from behind the closed door.

Harrison came jogging down the stairs and into the living room, “god can you believe that guy?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Harry chuckled, “brothers…” 

Harrison just laughed at him, pulling out his phone to scroll through Instagram while waiting for the shower. Maybe starting with just Harrison would be easier…

“So, Haz?” Harry asked after a while of just sitting in silence. He was trying to sound casual, but inside he was shitting himself.

“Hmm?” Harrison hummed, not looking up from his phone. 

“I uh, I’m taking Y/N out tonight…”

“Yeah? What’re you guys doing? Maybe Tom and I can tag along.” Harrison questioned.

“No, mate, not like that, I’m dating her,” Harry said bluntly, “have been for a few weeks.” 

Harrison didn’t know how to react; he wanted his friend to be happy, but at the same time he worried about you using him. What if you got what you wanted and then just left? And broke Harry’s heart in the process? He can’t let that happen. 

“Are you sure you wanna do this? What if she’s using you?” Harrison tried to ask nicely. 

“Who’s using him?” Tom asked, strolling in the room, hair still dripping wet. 

“Y/N,” Harrison answered, “they’re ‘dating’ now,” Harrison said, using air-quotes around the word dating. 

“She’s not like that you fucking arse,” Harry answered, starting to get mad, “I knew you guys would be like this and that’s exactly why I didn’t tell you!” 

“How long?” Tom asked quickly.

“A few weeks,” Harry answered with a huff.

“Oh, so it’s still easy to get out,” Tom said casually with a shrug.

“I don’t wanna get out!” Harry yelled, “I really like her! She’s not what you guys think she is!”

“Mate, calm down,” Harrison tried.

“No! I tried to be calm and you had to go and be a dick!” 

“Hellooooo!” Tuwaine sang as he walked through the front door.

“Hey mate, Harry’s dating Y/N,” Tom answered him.

“What?” Tuwaine laughed.

“Harry’s dating Y/N,” he repeated.

“Yay, she’s cool!”

“What? You’re on his side?” Harrison questioned.

“Yeah, why not?” Tuwaine shrugged, “I just want everyone to be happy. If Harry trusts her, then so do I.” 

“Thank you,” Harry said, calming down a bit.

“But what if she’s using him?” Harrison reiterated, bringing up his first concern, “or what if she’s just using Harry to get to Tom and then use him? Or the same with me?” 

“Yeah, bro, I’m Spider-Man,” Tom added.

“Yeah, we all know that,” Harry answered, “you don’t have to remind us every second of every day.”

“But still, how do you know she’s not gonna split when she gets popular?” Tom asked.

“Because you guys didn’t take the time to actually get to know her,” Harry stressed, “she’s been hanging out with us for quite a while and she hasn’t posted a single picture of either of you, or me for that matter.” 

The boys fell silent, that was true and they couldn’t deny it. 

“And she’s always paid the most attention to me, so don’t you think if she really wanted to use you guys, she’d have ignored me?” 

“I guess that makes sense…” Tom mumbled.

“Can’t you just be happy for me?” Harry pleaded, “like Tuwaine said: I trust her, isn’t that enough?” 

“We just don’t wanna see you get hurt, mate. Honest, if you’re happy, we’re happy,” Harrison answered, “we just want you to be careful.” 

“Well I am being careful, so you don’t have to worry. She’s great, I’d love for you guys to give her a chance,” Harry soothed. 

“We will, just know that we’re watching her too. At least for a little while,” Tom said, raising his eyebrows at Harry. 

“That’s fine, I guess,” Harry said, “just don’t weird her out so she runs away, please.” 

“No promises,” Harrison piped up. 

“I’m just happy for everyone,” Tuwaine said with a big smile from the couch, making everyone laugh.

“That’s why you’re my favorite,” Harry said, fist-bumping Tuwaine.

Taglist:  @xamourx @spider-barnes @hogwartsmarvelmommy @tulipholland @harryhollandsgirlfriend @cupids-crystals @sunwardsss @bvttercupbby

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Revelation

Breach Masterlist

Warnings: non/dubcon sex (series), general angst, some blood and anger this chapter.

This is dark!Winter Soldier/Bucky and explicit. 18+ only.

Note: SURPRISE! I somehow got this done this morning so voila!

I won’t demand but do ask for feedback; likes, reblogs, replies, comments, asks, especially on this series, but again, enjoy in your own way! <3 Love you!

A six-hour car ride and a brief flight saw you at a second safehouse; bigger and isolated from the world in a nest of trees. Steve accompanied you alone as Howard disappeared to ‘sort out business’. You watched and listened to it all, always keeping Luka close.

Your room was as big as one of the houses you’d lived in during your days in South America. Luka wanted to stay with you and you wouldn’t have let him sleep anywhere else. James, or Bucky, whoever he was those days, looked grim as he commented how nice it would be for you to have your privacy. You didn’t dare ask him to stay in the room though you wanted it. You had grown used to his presence.

You slept the first night soundly, waking only once or twice to look at the door. The usual shadow wasn’t there. That made you frown and run your fingers through Luka’s hair. You were safe now but that wouldn’t last, it never did.

You woke yawning, the hours of sleep reminding your body of its long-hewn fatigue. You could have slept for days. You peeked out into the hallway and Luka pushed past you, sprinting out the door. You followed him and called him back to you with a reprimand. He was excited about all the new places.

“Mishka, you stay close, we’re only going to get some breakfast,” you said as you took his hand.

“Mama, this place is so big! I wanna stay here forever,” he sang as he tugged on your arm.

“Why, so you can tear the walls down?” you tutted, “What has gotten into you?”

“Papa’s friend, Steve, he told me he fights the bad guys,” Luka swung your arm, “will he fight the ones who hurt you and Papa?”

You stopped just outside the kitchen. You turned Luka to you and bent to look him in his face. “What men, mishka?”

“The one’s we’re running from,” he said innocently.

You gulped and cradled his face in your hands, “don’t you worry about that, my love, me and your father will always keep you safe.”

The boy looked confused but didn’t ask more, he only nodded and you stood with a sigh. You took his hand again and pulled him into the kitchen. You sat him on one of the tall chairs along the island counter and searched the fridge. You poured each of you a bowl of Cheerios and pushed his across to him as you leaned on the other side of the counter and spooned up the cereal.

“You’re here,” James’ voice startled you as he came to a sharp stop just inside the doorway, “you weren’t in your room, I was--”

“You said we’re safe here,” you lowered your spoon, “Luka was hungry.”

“We are safe,” he exhaled and slowly crossed the room to stand at the end of the counter.

“You want some?” you shook the box at him.

“Eat,” he took it and grabbed a bowl of his own, “I’ll get it.”

He added milk and sat beside Luka. Your son smiled at him and received a goofy look in return. There were moments James wasn’t so guarded but those were always reserved for your son, never you. When he looked at you, you only saw his guilt and pain.

“Howard will be here at noon,” James said as he turned back to you and stirred his bowl, “I’ll talk to them first.”

“Talk?” you asked.

“They need to know… everything,” he said reluctantly, “you watch over Luka while I’m with them and try not to worry. We can trust Steve.”

You nodded and scooped another spoonful into your mouth. You chewed and stared at the counter. That wasn’t what you were worried about, how could you explain all that had happened?

✰

After you ate, you took Luka to the living room and Bucky left you again. After some giddy pleas from your son, you turned on the television. There were few times in his life, and yours, that you had the luxury of a screen. You sat and watched puppets spell and count for a while before you grew bored.

Luka tired of the wooden car he’d outgrown a while ago and jumped on the couch. You tried to get him to stop but only found yourself out of breath.

“Mishka! You will break it,” you caught him mid-leap and swung him down onto his feet, “why don’t we play a game?”

“Oooh, hide and seek!” he chimed.

“I don’t know, that might not--”

“Please, papa hates that game but it’s so fun,” he clapped, “please, mama.”

“It is fun when you can only hide in the broom closet. You will get lost in here.”

“Promise, mama, I will not go far, please?”

You sniffed and stared into his hopeful eyes, James’ eyes. “You stay on this floor and do not go past the stairs, understood?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” he squealed, “now mama, you have to close your eyes. No peeking.”

“I know how this game works,” you sat and covered your face with your hands, “thirty seconds, mishka.”

“Thirty?” he whined.

“Twenty-nine, twenty-eight…”

You heard his feet stamp away and you smiled, counting louder with each number. When you reached one you got up and went to the hall. You looked up and down for any telltale sign of him. Nothing was different.

You went to the kitchen and searched all the cupboards and the pantry. He wasn’t in there. As you checked the closets and still did not find him, you felt the panic rising in your throat. Your heart hammered as you ran around the stairs, he hadn’t listened!

You heard a voice, a high pitch you knew well. The front door was open just a crack and you ripped it open as you followed Luka’s sing-song. He sang a Russian tune you taught him as he was carried on the back of a dark-haired man. You ran across the porch and past the armored car in the lot.

You tore Luka from the stranger’s back and both cried out in surprise. You put your son down as the man turned to you. You grabbed the collar of his shirt and punched him as hard as you could, just as James taught you. You heard the crack of his nose as you pulled back again.

“You take my son!” you snarled as he put his arm up to block your next strike and your hand gleaned off his chin, “my son! I will kill you.”

“Mama, mama,” you felt Luka tugging at your pants.

“Go inside, Luka,” you barked ready to strangle the man.

“He’s wasn’t taking me, mama, we were playing,” Luka begged, “he’s just a kid, like me.”

You stopped and looked the man in the face. Luka was right, he was sixteen, maybe seventeen, familiar even. You growled and let him go hesitantly. You pulled Luka close to you.

“Who are you?”

“I should ask you the same,” the adolescent stemmed the blood leaking from his nostrils with the heel of his hand and tilted his head back, ���you sure pack a punch, lady.”

“Who?” you stepped forward again and he backed away.

“Tony,” he snorted and turned to spit up blood onto the ground, “Tony Stark, Howard’s son.”

“Howard?” you blinked, “oh, I--” you looked down at Luka who looked terrified, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know, I-- let me help you clean up.”

“Uh, I don’t think so,” he chuckled and backed away from you, “I think I can handle this.”

“Mama,” Luka huffed.

“I’m sorry, mishka, I did not know,” you grimaced, “I so very sorry, I really--” you looked at Tony again.

“I’m fine,” he pulled his cuff up to his nose, “really, I shouldn’t have just taken the kid.”

“I couldn’t find him, I was so scared, I--”

“Luka,” James’ voice drew you around. He stood on the porch and descended the steps carefully as he took in the scene, “what’s going on? What are you doing out here?”

“Playing a game,” you said as Tony shook his head.

“What happened to the kid?” James asked as he pointed at the bloodied teen.

“Your wife, that’s what happened,” Tony spat.

“She’s not--

“I thought he was taking Luka,” you interrupted James, “I’m sorry, I--”

“It’s okay,” he took Luka’s hand and pulled the boy close, “you did what I showed you,” he turned to the younger Stark, “you should get that cleaned up or it’ll stay crooked.”

“Uh huh,” Tony dragged his feet through the dirt towards the house, “such a pleasant little family.”

You watched him go and hung your head. You felt awful and held up your shaky hand, your knuckles sore from the assault. Bucky took your hand and looked it over.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I hurt him,” you said, “I hurt a kid.”

“He’s fine,” James assured, “I’ll talk to Stark, it’s fine.”

“I’m sorry, papa, we were playing hide and seek and I didn’t tell mama I was going outside--”

“I told you not to play that game,” James looked down at Luka, “this is why, because you scare us.”

“I’m sorry,” Luka repeated.

“Well, everyone’s safe so…” he rubbed his forehead with his gloved hand as his eyes met yours, “it’s your turn, I’ll keep and eye on Luka.”

“My turn?”

“Upstairs, they’re waiting,” James said and raised his hand as if he would touch your shoulder but instead dropped it, “answer the question but you don’t need to talk about what you don’t want to.”

You nodded and swallowed as you looked past him to the front door. There were no questions they could ask that you didn’t dread.

✰

Howard and Steve sat on the other side of the table. It felt like a real interrogation, like you’d done something wrong. And yet, as you explained your time at Hydra, from employee to experiment, neither seemed to flinch, they listened and took notes but did not show the horror you felt.

“Do you know what they were doing to your son the day of your escape?” Stark asked.

“No, I was… sedated for much of it, they took him from me and--” you shook your head, “I was so angry, I never been so angry and when I woke I felt invincible and when the doctor came, I would’ve killed him, I think.”

“And I know it’s probably a moot question but you don’t know what they were giving you? The capsules, the drip?”

“I never seen the charts,” you shrugged and looked down. 

Your hands were trembling and you were overwhelmed. It was the first time you said any of it aloud and once you started, it streamed out like a river. Now that it was all out, the emotions began to flow too.

Then the realisation and the fear. It was, easy even for you, to guess what Hydra intended for your son. He was to be like his father, more efficient than his father. You lifted your head, terrified, and glanced between the men furtively.

“My son is not a weapon,” you said, “know that and do not make him one.”

“That is not our intent,” Steve assured softly, “that is not the type of weapon we use. That’s why we’re here, away from SHIELD, away from Hydra, we can’t let this happen to anyone else but given what we know, this experiment wasn’t just shelved. There are others out there and we need to get to them before another Winter Soldier appears.”

“But how… me and James hide for so long,” you said, “we cannot possibly know--”

Steve’s throat constricted and he looked at Howard. They weren’t telling you something.

“What you have told us today is all we need from you,” Stark said evenly, “It is a start for us to uncover the rest.”

“Uncover?” you blinked and frowned, “what do you mean uncover?”

“You and James have given us locations, details, security procedure,” Stark continued, “with that, we can gain access to the information we do need and find out where they’ve moved their new Soldat operation--”

“No,” you snapped as your chest squeezed, “you would send him back there?”

“We didn’t say--”

“You don’t tell me but you think I am stupid. I know James and I know he feels so bad he would go back to die,” you snarled, “he did nothing wrong. It was not him!”

“But… you, uh, he--” Howard began awkwardly.

“Hydra did that, Hydra made him that monster and he doesn’t not owe you anything. He killed the men who would take my child from me and he kept Luka safe, he is done.”

“Look, Bucky is my best friend and I understand, it wasn’t him, but he did those things, even if it wasn’t his choice and this is what we can do, this is the deal we can offer you. He gets us that intel and you get your safe haven.”

“And if he doesn’t come back?” you stood and slammed your hands on the table, “you would kill him all over again, Steven.”

Steve reeled as if you’d slapped him and Howard raised as brow as he looked at him from the corner of his eye.

“You friend? Really?” your English became more fractured as your rage rose and you hit the table again, this time leaving a dent in the metal, “you no friend to know what you send him back to. They not kill him, not his body, and they torture his mind.”

“Please, ma’am,” Howard said calmly, “it was his idea--”

“I don’t care, you let him!” you shouted, “You think him evil but I know he not. He save me and he has son. You would let a father die.”

“Just calm--” Steve intoned.

“No, no be calm,” you began to rant in Russian as you turned and stormed to the door.

“Where-- Wait!’ The men stood and followed after you.

“I go James!” you hollered as you strode out into the hall, “he trouble!”

[foli-vora]

praise you

A/N: Kicking my fic blog off with my husband, my baby, my sweet boy, Francisco Morales. I would die/kill for that man, no questions asked. I’ve been so scared to do this and share my writing but I feel good today so I’m doing this before I change my mind! I hope you enjoy, and I have so much more to come!

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/f!reader

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: swearing and some (lots) kisses, super brief mention of love making but nothing descriptive (I’m new to warnings so please let me know if I ever miss anything and I’ll add it asap!)

+++

It wasn’t meant to just come out like it did.

There was a plan. A whole plan that had been running through his mind for the last couple months. He had thought through every little detail, obsessed over every second that would count down to it. It should be perfect. It would be perfect, because you didn’t deserve anything less. But here he was, with his big fucking mouth, ruining everything.

He tries to swallow down the small flicker of panic, the steady rise of self-loathing. Maybe it could be remedied? Maybe if he just started laughing, you would think it was a joke and let it go.

But he couldn’t bring himself to laugh, couldn’t even force out a chuckle. His mouth was dry and he couldn’t bring himself to look away from your wide eyes. They were shining in the morning sunlight drifting in through the window, your skin glowing in the soft warm rays. Beautiful.

Fuck it.

He had come this far, might as well go all out. His legs wobble slightly as he slowly falls to a single knee, right in the middle of the kitchen.

The ring! Shit.

He sees it in his mind, remembers burying it in a hurry when he heard your soft footfalls on the stairs and your sweet voice calling out to him. You had almost caught him. Almost. He had only just slammed the drawer shut when you had reached the doorway to your shared bedroom, the soft smile curling your lips enough to make him fall in love with you all over again. You had reached out for him, humming softly in pure contentment as he took you into his arms and swayed you slightly. It had been a rough day at work, which had quickly melted away the second he ordered a pizza and chucked Netflix on, satisfied to just snuggle on the couch under a blanket.

Frankie… your sweet voice is calling to him, curious and questioning, and he inhales sharply, thoughts whirling into a hazy blur as he thinks he’ll never believe he deserves the amount of love you pour into his name alone.

The pure concept of you loving him and him alone is enough to bring tears to his eyes. He feels it. Every time you hold him, kiss him, make love to him… he drowns in it. Revels in it. Your pure, unadulterated adoration for him never fails to take his breath away, and he hopes you feel his devotion to you just as strongly.

Surely you could feel it. Surely you could feel it in the way he lingers close after kissing you, softly nuzzling his nose against yours as your gazes stayed locked in a soft battle of appreciation for the other. Or in the way he would dance his fingers across your skin in pure wonderment, tracing every blemish, scar and stretchmark with a tenderness only you could bring out in him. Surely you could feel how hard and fast you make his heart beat when you two slow down in between flurries of harsh kisses and greedy hands, when you both just stopped to just… to just be.

Words. He needs words.

He had a speech and everything. He had kept a small notebook in his jeans for weeks, pulling it out and adding and tweaking words whenever he would find a moment to himself throughout the day at work. He had read over it a thousand times, could see each word scrawled over the lined pages flash in his mind, but why couldn’t he get the words out of his mouth?

“You –” he stops, almost as if trying to catch his breath. You wait, patient as ever. Always so patient, always so completely and utterly devoted to him. “You are everything to me.” He whispers, and his teeth mash together as he tries to control the lump quickly building in his throat. Your lips twitch into a small, shy smile as your eyes briefly fall to the floor before flicking back up and focusing on him. He draws in a slow breath to steady his suddenly shaking hands.

“I don’t know how hard you hit your head to want to stick around with me this long, but I thank whoever’s out there every day that you do, and I… I hope with everything I have that you’ll want to stay.” His voice wavers with the tears quickly building in his eyes but he can’t bring himself to care. Not when you’re looking at him like that… like he had personally hung each and every star in the night sky you admired every night.

“Always,” you whisper to him, smile widening as he grins up at you.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I… I can’t imagine a life, my life, without you in it. I don’t know how you do it, but you just… you just make my world so much brighter, make everything so much better, and I want to spend every day for the rest of my life showing you how much you mean to me. So, will… will you marry me?”

You sniffle as you fall to the floor in front of him, cradling his tear-streaked face softly between your hands. Francisco… your voice is gentle as it coos to him, thumbs tracing his cheeks. He’s putty in your hands. He knows it. The guys know it. He wants the world to know it. You shuffle closer, placing soft kiss after kiss along his forehead, nose, chin, wherever you could reach.

“Of course, I will.”

He damn near implodes when you answer. If all the pain he had endured during his life had led up to this moment, he would happily live it over and over. His hand moves to cup the back of your neck, quickly pulling you in to press his lips against yours in desperation. You melt into it instantly, matching his fervent pace and then some as you wind a hand in his ruffled curls. I love you. The words fall effortlessly from his mouth again and again and it isn’t long before you’re giggling into his lips, returning the sentiment easily as your arms wind around him tightly.

“This wasn’t how I planned this,” he admits quietly, thinking of the breakfast mess crowding the counter tops, the unkept bed hair falling into his eyes and the old tattered flannelette pyjama pants hanging from his hips. You pull back, face near split from how wide you’re smiling.

“It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

His cheeks warm before a thought suddenly slams into him like a freight train.

“Shit. Shit! Stay right here.” He’s up and out of the room before you can blink, leaving you abandoned on your knees on the cool tile floor in the middle of the kitchen. You call after him, ears straining as you listen to the muted thuds from the floor above you before heavy steps are rushing down the stairs.

He’s flustered when he returns, hands fumbling with something as he drops back in front of you, breathless and giddy as he presents you with a shiny band embedded into a smooth velvet cushion, the beautifully set stones shining in the morning light. His fingers gently pinch it from padding before he’s tossing the dark hinged box over his shoulder without a care as it clatters noisily to the ground somewhere behind him. He beams at your giggle, grinning as he reaches for your hand and slips the ring carefully onto your finger.

“Perfect fit…” he whispers, “… just like us.”

“Ugh, cheeseball.” You groan quietly with a languid smile, nuzzling into the soft kisses he was pressing to your cheeks.

“What are you talking about – you love it.” He grins, watery eyed and flushed, cheeks darkening a little more when you brush his hair back and stroke his cheeks. He brings your hand to his mouth, lips pressing sweetly against the cool band wrapped around your digit before moving to kiss along your knuckles. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too, fiancé.”

He blinks in surprise before grinning, leaning forward to kiss you deeply. “Call me that again.”

“Fiancé,” you murmur, a wave of warmth rushing over you as he groans softly against your lips. He nips at your bottom lip, grinning when you whine quietly. His voice is a deep rasp when he speaks against your skin, kissing further along your jaw and up to your ear. Again. You laugh quietly, “Francisco?”

He hums in question, too busy to answer properly as he kisses and nips the sensitive skin on your throat.

“I think the food’s burning.”

“Shit.”

[eunoiaflow3r]

hard 2 face reality // spencer reid x fem!reader

spencer reid x reader

aaron hotchner x reader

part one - part three

a/n: a lot of people asked for part 2 to “not ur friend.” omg i didn’t expect it to blow up like it did. sorry this isnt the fluff conclusion you guys wanted...but i’m willing to make this a series maybe? idk it’s up to you guys. thank you for your feedback and support. (see notes at end)

also i tagged all the people who commented on part one.

warning(s): language. angst. not proofread. will be mistakes.

word count: 2.9k wow.

request(ed): yes. very requested. thank you @yeah-just-ignore-me-thanks for this idea.

summary: after hearing something she shouldn’t have, she has to deal with explanations and tough decisions.

hard 2 face reality by poo bear ft. justin beiber and jay electronics.

—————————————&————————————

sometimes it’s hard to face reality...even though you might get mad at me.

It’s ironic sometimes.

The twists and turns of life and the paths it puts you down. Sometimes you believed in fate but right now it only felt like a pain in the ass. Whoever was controlling your strings you hoped they would just give you a break, but no. There was always something more.

Last night, you had a dream. There was a memory within the dream. You and Spencer were cuddling on the couch watching a movie and his fingers were combing through your hair. From where you were, it was more like you were witnessing it instead of actually living it. You were just watching yourself fall harder for the man behind you. You were content. Happy even. You forgot all about your issues and problems and conflicts. You forgot about what Spencer said and the things he had done. You just forgot.

You watched as he took his fingers out of your hair and pushed you away. The you that you were watching was confused and so were you. Why would he do that? What was wrong with him? This wasn’t the memory.

Dream Spencer got up, put his shoes on, grabbed his bag, and was halfway out the door. Before he left completely he said, “We’re just friends. You’re not enough for me. You never will be.”

Dream you just sat there and stared blankly.

Your eyes opened and you stared up at your ceiling in sorrow. The tears just kept coming and you tried to keep yourself quiet but it was so hard, and you were so tired. You hated to admit it but you were in love with him. You were in love with a man who didn’t feel the same way. A man who did nothing but play you and pretend you were nothing. A man who lied.

How did this happen?

How did you end up in a position where you were in a cold bed crying about a man who was unphased? Someone who didn’t find anything wrong with their actions? How could you love someone who would never find the way to love you back and treat you right no matter how hard you wished? No matter how hard you hoped?

How could you do this to yourself?

And to think - in a few hours you’d have to wake up and see him again. After everything you realized and have come to terms with you’d have to see the man who was responsible for the ache in your heart.

————————————&———————————

When Spencer woke up the first thing he thought about was work. How he didn’t really want to go but he knows he has to. He thought about how heart wrenching the case he’s been on for the last week has been. He thought about how today he might actually be able to solve it...and then he thought about you.

He’d be seeing you.

Hotch invited you to help with the case. He figured your skill set would be exactly what they needed to solve it.

And yeah, you there definitely was for the better of the case but was it for the better of him?

He had no idea what to do. You were mad at him. You weren’t answering his phone calls or his texts and he figured out that you heard the conversation and he gets that maybe calling you a grandmother was wrong, but really what did he do?

He knew he missed you. He missed being able to rant to you, and you consoling him. He missed the movie days you guys had...but he could watch them on his own...right? He could figure out his own problems...he didn’t need anyone to help him. Especially not you. Not someone getting upset about the smallest of things.

That was so rude of you. Why would you ignore him? Why wouldn’t you reply to his texts are calls?

He thought that that was pretty selfish of you.

And yeah sure, maybe calling you clingy was a lie but was that really something to ignore him over? To throw it all away for?

Should've been adjusted to my life, had the opportunity to stay away for the last time...now you’re standin’ right in front of me. It hurts me to know that I lied. Tryna protect your feelings... you read in between the lines
Hope your heart has started healing

You arrived.

He saw you, bag over your shoulder, going straight towards Hotch’s office and ignoring him.

Not even a hello? Not a good morning? You hadn’t even looked at Emily or Morgan either. What had they done? What had he done?

From what he could tell you had been crying, but you covered it well. If it was anyone but him they wouldn’t have been able to tell but he could. Did you miss him too? Were you hurting?

———————————-&————————————

“Is something going on between you and Reid?”

Hotch was looking at you expecting an answer but you didn’t know what to tell him. According to Reid nothing had ever been going on.

“No. I’m really just trying to focus here.”

Hotch nodded. “Good.”

Truth is, it was very hard to ignore Spencer. He seemed so oblivious that it made you feel sorry for him. But you couldn’t. You wouldn’t feel sorry for him. He wasn’t the one crying his eyes out at night and cussing out rom coms when they came on the television.

And you could tell he didn’t feel the same. He didn’t look how you felt. He looked conflicted, but he didn’t look sorry or hurt. His normalcy pained you. Had you really meant that little? Maybe you were over exaggerating things. No. You deserved an explanation - but you weren’t ready to hear it.

A while ago...

“Okay Y/N cover your eyes!”

You giggled. “No, Spencer why?”

“Just do it! I promise you’ll like it.”

You were sat criss crossed on the couch and Spencer was behind you with something in his hands. Before you could look at it he told you to close your eyes and he hid it behind his back. You smiled and closed your eyes waiting for whatever the surprise was.

You felt his fingers move your hair out of the way and you felt a coolness along your neck.

A necklace.

“Okay open.”

You could feel him grinning. You opened your eyes and looked down at your chest. You nearly gasped. On the end of the necklace was a miniature glass sculpture. When you met at the museum you told him that they were your favorite.

He remembered.

You held it in your hand and turned around to kiss him. He was a bit surprised but held your face in his hands and kissed you back.

“L/N!” You were snapped out of your head. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Sorry.”

The necklace. You can’t believe you were still wearing it. It felt like the only thing holding you together which was strange since glass was so fragile. The metal necklace part felt like it was burning you. The happy memory burned you. You took the necklace from under your sweater and ripped it off your neck. You couldn’t wear it anymore. It hurt you, but you couldn’t hold on.

Reality is kinda hard to face, like actual facts is for flat-earthers. Rains a requirement for flowers to grow, and pains a requirement for power to grow. It’s a miracle how one can change, from one what was just hours ago.

When you got home that day you were happy and running on adrenaline. Yeah, you had to see Spencer...but you helped solve a case. You helped save someone. It was tiring, and gruesome just like what Spencer said but the feeling you get after helping someone? Unexplainable.

After changing out of your work clothes and into some jeans and a shirt, you’d thought you’d treat yourself to dinner. Maybe that would help you forget. Forget and move on. Besides, it was a nice little diner and you used to be a regular. You had wanted to bring Spencer but he never wanted to go. He never wanted to go out.

His loss.

When you got there the familiar scent of vanilla and cinnamon wafted through. You had missed this. When everything was so simple and uncomplicated. When you could be you. Not wondering if today was the day Spencer would decide to come over or not. Or to even call. You could finally breathe. You weren’t in your stuffy apartment. You weren’t in a Spence filled work place. You were where you considered home in a city away from it.

“Y/N, hey!” Em the waitress called you over. You would consider her a friend. You two had always talked when you came through.

“Hey!” She went in for a hug and you hugged her back.

“Where have you been?”

You sighed. “Busy.”

She nodded. She understood. From there she asked you where you wanted to sit. You were just going to request the counter since you were alone, but when a little boy came up to you yelling your name, and wrapped his arms around you...you didn’t have the time to answer. It was little Jack.

“Hey buddy!” You hugged him back.

You looked around for Hotch. What a coincidence. He smiled and waved you over. You and Jack walked over to the booth and Hotch stood and hugged you. “I’m so sorry about Jack.”

“Oh no, it’s fine!”

About two years ago Hotch hired you to babysit Jack every once in a while. You needed the money. You were making enough from the paintings you sold but you needed more to finish college and save up. You weren’t going to some big expensive college or anything but still.

A little while later you met Spencer and it just became and inside joke.

“Would you like to eat with us?” Hotch asked.

“I don’t want to intrude Hotch...”

“Aaron.” He corrected while smiling. “Please, join us.”

And you did. You ate dinner with Aaron and Jack and you were having fun. This past month you had been moping around feeling sorry for yourself but you were actually happy. There was still that pain in your chest, and a part of you that longed to call Spencer and talk to him - but you wouldn’t. You couldn’t.

After dinner Em invited you to go clubbing with her on Saturday. At first you were going to turn her down but you thought...why not? You didn’t have to stay up waiting for Spencer to call anymore. You didn’t have to cook or plan to order in in case Spencer decided to stop by. You didn’t have any plans.

“Sure Em, I’ll be there.”

“Great.”

She walked behind the counter and looked from you to Hotch. Like a suggestive look. Like a “ask him too!” look. And you weren’t ready for anything, and wasn’t even sure if you liked Aaron that way, and you still were in a gray area with Spencer...but you thought it’d be rude not to ask.

“Aaron...”

He nodded, urging you to go on.

“Do you want to go with me Saturday? I mean...I don’t really want to be alone..Em has a girlfriend and it might be fun.”

He laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Yes Y/N I’ll go.”

When you got home and ready for bed you had this weight in your stomach. There was a lump in your throat, and your fingers tensed. You thought about Hotch and it made you feel like you were cheating on Spencer. But you weren’t. You and Spencer weren’t together. There was no need to feel guilty.

He didn’t.

———————————-&————————————

That Saturday came soon enough and you weren’t sure if you were ready. Physically yeah, you showered and got ready...but emotionally? Mentally? Was this a date? Had you asked Aaron out? Were you ready for that? Had you moved on from Spencer? No, of course not. But Aaron wasn’t a distraction either. You could never do that to him no matter how bad you felt. Never.

Your doorbell rang and when you opened it you were surprised to see Hotch...not in a suit. It fit him and you could admit it...he looked...really good.

“You clean up nice.” You said laughing a bit to yourself.

He looked you up and down. “So do you.”

He looked a bit taken aback and you could see he was a bit flushed and that made you a bit happy. You liked giving people that kind of reaction. It gave you just a bit of confidence you needed. Especially tonight, where you’d try not to think about Spencer.

When you got there you were glad it wasn’t too busy. The music wasn’t that loud either and you were glad because then you got to dance without immediately getting a headache. Your first dance was with Hotch but then he saw one of his friends from college (he’s a lawyer now) and then started talking to him. You didn’t mind. You actually kind of liked being alone. It gave you you time to think. But not about Spencer.

No. Not tonight you wouldn’t.

You wasted too many tears on him to be thinking of him while you were supposed to be having fun. He didn’t deserve your thoughts. He didn’t deserve your tears. He didn’t deserve movie nights, or cuddles, or sex, or kisses, or waiting, he didn’t deserve -

Spencer.

Spencer Reid.

You thought you were dreaming, but you weren’t. He was just a little bit away from you with JJ on his arm. “Just coworkers.” You wanted to say it didn’t hurt you, you did, but your heart broke. In a million little pieces. Had he not want to get serious with you because he was in love with her. It makes sense, everything about that makes sense but it didn’t hurt any less. It didn’t make the tears in your eyes stop, it didn’t make the ache in your chest dim but at least it made sense.

Know it hurts to see the truth in your face, circumstances bring you down to your knees. Go on and cry an ocean, but don’t drown in it. Enough to put your heart at ease. Oh don’t lose your self esteem. I apologize for being a man. It’s way harder than what it seems.

You grabbed your bag from Hotch and told him you needed to go outside for a minute. He asked you if you wanted him to go with you but you needed to be alone. You wanted to be by yourself to fight these tears. You couldn’t cry in front of him.

He gave you his coat which was much too big but still appreciated.

Once you were outside you took your phone out to check your face. Your nose was red but the few tears hadn’t ruined anything. You were fine. You were going to be okay. Everything was alright.

Until it wasn’t .

“Y/N?”

Fucking Spencer.

You turned around to see Spencer Reid walking towards you with a confused look on his face.

“Hey.” he said. Hey? Hey?? What the hell were you supposed to say to that? Hey?

He cleared his throat. “Things are weird, right?”

“Weird?” you scoffed.

“Y/N, it’s been a month! I don’t understand what I did! You just stopped talking to me even after I tried to apologize! What more can I do?”

He stopped for a second, “Is that Hotch’s jacket?” He stepped forward to take a look at it but you flinched away. “Don’t tell me that’s Hotch’s -“

“You were hiding me Spencer. You said the equivalent to hanging out with me was of visiting a grandmother. You never wanted to hang out unless it was on your terms and you called me clingy and suffocating when I NEVER asked you for more. I NEVER went out of my way to ask you for anything and you treat me like this? Like I’m replaceable? After everything we’ve been through? After all we’ve talked about and experienced? What’s your excuse for that Spencer? What could you possibly have to say that would explain that?”

He opened his mouth and closed it again.

“If I were to have called you and said ‘Yup, everything is fine Spence we can go back to normal.’ It would have gone back to normal! YOUR normal! A normal where I’m hidden like a side chick but you get to be in public with JJ on your arm! Fucking JJ! And yeah, we never put a label on it but YOU made it clear that we weren’t to fuck other people. That was YOUR decision! She was the girl you said I didn’t have to worry about and here we are.”

Spencer was silent. He looked to the floor, and said nothing. His fingers ran through his disheveled hair and his lip was quivering.

“So this is because of JJ?” he asked.

“Fuck you.”

————————————&———————————

He watched as you walked into the club and back out again with Hotch. Before you went in his car though you walked over to Spencer and put the necklace into his hand. Silently you walked over to Hotch and got in the passenger seat.

Spencer didn’t know what to do.

This was your necklace. He gave it to you. It was yours to keep. Yours to wear, cherish, and hold. Why would you give it back? It was supposed to make you happy and help you remember him. Instead it was in his hands unworn but the girl he had hurt. What was he supposed to do?

JJ found him outside but he said nothing to her the whole ride when he took her home. He was thinking about you. He was thinking about what you said. You were right.

When he got home he looked at the box of things you gave him. There were polaroid pictures of the two of you and he started shaking as he cried. What had he done? How could he have been so selfish?

You were right.

You were right.

Truth was he did like JJ, and he had been hiding you. He had been treating you unfairly. He had been a jerk and he had done every single thing you said he did.

He was all of the names you were calling him in your head.

Every single one.

He held the glass sculpture necklace in his hands and could feel his tears running down his face falling on it.

Even though he fucked up, and had something weird with JJ, he realized...he was in love with you.

Sometimes it's hard to face reality.

—————————————-&————————————-

literally wtf is this. what in the love triangles - anyway. ik you guys wanted fluff so...part 3? idk. should reader have a thing with hotch? should she choose hotch or reid?

feedback always appreciated. it pushed me to write this.

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[13uswntimagines]

Just In Case (Emily x Reader)

Request: Emily x reader where the reader is deployed in to the military and got permission to video call Emily while she is at camp and something happens to the base while on the call and it ends the call with no goodbye and then like the team seeing news articles and trying to get in contact with reader but they can’t and Emily eventually gets notified that’s she’s in the hospital

There was nothing quite like waiting for the little green dot to appear next to your Skype name. The way excitement mixed with anxiety and impatience. How your wife never knew exactly what state you would be in, only that you would greet her with a wide (probably exhausted) smile. 

It was rare that Emily actually got to call you while you were deployed. You were the assigned medic to a forward operating special ops unit, meaning you spent more time in the middle of nowhere doing dangerous missions than you did on base. She was excited she’d get to see your smiling face after almost a month (a year since she’d actually seen you in person). 

She jumped when the little dot appeared on the screen (much to Lindsey and Kelley’s enjoyment) and clicked on your little icon. 

The screen blinked, and your wide smile greeted her. “Hey darling, how’s champ camp?” Your little southern twang came through the computer. 

Emily mirrored your smile (your accent always made her swoon just a little), Turning the camera so you could see your two best friends also waving at you. “Super fun. Me and Linds beat Kelley during the scrimmage,” 

You smirked at your wife, shaking your head. You knew how competitive they all were (it had led to some very fun game nights at your house- especially with your wife who adamantly refused to be competitive off the pitch). “Bet the squirrel loved that,”

Emily shrugged. “She’s not taking it so well,” 

She again pointed the camera towards your pouting sister. You cracked a smile at the woman.

“I’ll get her next time, don’t worry,” Kelley winked at the screen. 

You looked off to the side for a second, nodding to whoever was talking to you behind your computer.

Emily wasn’t upset, hell she was more than used to the two of you never really being alone (you were the team leader after all). Instead, she took the opportunity to take in your features. Every new wrinkle of your forehead or dark circle under your eye (that looked more like a bruise or black eye at this point). Was that a new scar you kept rubbing under your chin?

Emily shook her head. She didn’t even want to think about how you got that until you were back safe in her arms. Your job was dangerous, she didn’t need any reminders. 

“How are you holding up?” She asked, drawing your attention back towards her. It was a safe question, one she knew she could ask over a live feed. One that didn’t cross any “clearance” lines you had warned her about (though she was sure that your superiors knew you told her many stories deemed classified over the years in the safety of your bedroom). 

You shrugged, your crooked smile not quite meeting your eyes. “I’m alright. Super tired. We just got to base a little while ago,” 

Your vague answer didn’t surprise her. You didn’t like to worry her, and half of your missions were pretty secretive anyway. It was one thing to share your darkest stories, the things you had seen that you couldn’t un-see, while the two of you were pressed together, and another to try and explain from a million miles away. 

Your wife knew how your job weighed on you. 

“But you’re ok?” She pressed, unwilling to let you deflect the question. She needed to know. You ran a hand through your tousled hair (one of your biggest tells), leaning forward just a bit. “Just some bruises. Promise.” You paused, leaning forward, your fake playful smile reappearing with a wiggle of your eyebrows, “What about you? Kelley’s a beast on the field,” 

Emily cracked a smile, despite her worry. “I’m good babe, but Lindsey’s got a nice one,”

“Ooo let me see,” you said, leaning closer to the screen like a little kid. Emily turned the computer so you could harass Lindsey instead of her. 

“No,” the midfielder pouted, crossing her arms. 

“Come on, I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” You wined dramatically as Emily turned the computer around and Kelley butted into the frame. 

“That sounds like some teenage boy-...” She started, only to be cut off by a loud crash and the blaring of an alarm. 

“Fuck,” you hissed, looking off-screen, as more yelling started, and the screen shook. 

“Babe-“ Emily said, and you glanced back at the screen as if suddenly realizing your wife was still there. 

“I love you Em. I’m sorry I gotta go,” you said quickly, looking directly in the camera. 

Then the call ended. The screen went blank and the three women sat frozen. Emily very slowly placed her hand over where your face had been mere seconds ago. “Love you too, be safe,” 

The “please,” was softer, almost breathless. And the sound broke Kelley and Lindsey’s hearts. All they could do was hope you would be alright. 

****

Emily had learned to not read the news reports a long, long time ago, on your first deployment (back when the two of you had only been dating for six months). 

As it turned out, most of the time they had no real information about what was going on. They just reported on the overarching bad thing that was happening, or whatever appeared to be happening, and tended to ignore the boots on the ground (your words not Emily’s). 

But still, she couldn’t help but stare at the articles rolling in about an attack on one of the bases near where she knew you were stationed. Especially after the abrupt end to your semi-distracted phone call. 

“Em, reading it repeatedly isn’t going to change the words,” Kelley said softly, prying the phone from her grasp and sticking it on the chair beside her. 

Emily sighed heavily. “It’s just hard,” she mumbled, scrubbing a hand over her eyes. 

Lindsey, Kelley, and the rest of the table nodded understandingly. They may not have the same relationship with you that Emily did, but they loved you all the same. 

It was terrifying to not know where you were, or if you were alright, but they had to be strong for Emily right now. 

“She didn’t answer your text yet?” Lindsey asked, reaching across the table to grasp Emily’s hand tightly. You might not be able to call, but texting was usually a good way to get a hold of you.

Emily bit her lip, shaking her head tightly. “Nah uh,” 

She pinched the bridge of her nose. It wasn’t uncommon for you to go radio silent, especially when you were on a mission, but it had been 4 days since your phone call and You always sent her a little a-ok when you were finished with whatever you were doing. She was starting to get worried. 

“What about Kara, she’s always with her,” Kelley asked gently, rubbing her back, mentioning your best friend. 

The two of you were practically attached at the hip, but as you always said, experience in a war zone will do that go people. Kara was your right-hand man and always answered Emily, especially when you weren’t. 

“She hasn’t answered either,” Emily mumbled, shaking her head. The women at the table all shared a look. The last time Kara hadn’t responded while the two of you were away, you had been stuck doing emergency surgery on one of your guys in the field after an IED blew up one of the hummers in your convoy. 

“I’m sure they’re just busy. You know the news likes to make a big deal out of nothing. They always do,” Lindsey said reassuringly. 

“Yeah, and no news is good news right?” Kelley added, with a half-smile. 

A dark look crossed Emily’s features. She knew (and feared) what happened when things went wrong. She dreaded that phone call or god forbid an officer showing up with your “just in case” letter (one she knew you always carried with you, but she had never physically seen).

 “Only until it isn’t,” she said softly, her voice deadly serious. The women at the table sobered and nodded, equally as somber. It was a terrifying truth that was easier to ignore than confront. 

“I’m sure she’s just busy being a hero,” Lindsey said softly, leaning over to grab Emily’s hand tightly, as Kelley squeezed the woman comfortingly. 

“I hope you’re right,” Emily sighed. 

“She promised Em, and she never breaks her promises,” Kelley said, equally as serious, trying to hide just how worried she was. You swore you’d always come back to them, and she would kick your ass if you didn’t. 

*****

It felt like Emily’s heart was going to beat out of her chest. It was hammering harder than it ever had, even after a full ninety. She tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for the receptionist to find your room and clear her with the MP’s apparently stationed outside your room.

The second she got the 3 am call, it had been a mad dash to get here. The drive from Orlando to the hospital at the Jacksonville Air Force base was a blur, but she was pretty sure Kelley had broken just about every speed law there was to get her here faster (and to get herself here too, she was your sister after all). 

“I’m her wife. I have permission to see her,” Emily growled at the poor receptionist, who continued to rapidly type on her computer. 

“I’m sorry miss, but due to the circumstances I have to check,” She clicked her tongue, leaning forward to get a better look at the screen, apparently oblivious to Emily’s growing rage. 

Kelley placed a careful hand on Emily’s arm, trying to quell the brewing storm before the receptionist took the brunt of it. 

“Fuck the circumstances. Let me see my wife,”  Emily hissed, completely ignoring Kelley’s “calm down Sonnett,” (your older sister was worried too, but flipping out at a receptionist wasn’t going to help their cause). 

“I’m trying ma’am. We have protocols too, especially after a Rescue and Evacuation,” the woman behind the counter sighed, more frustrated than sympathetic. Emily’s eyes widened. Kara hadn’t said anything about a rescue mission over the phone, only that you were hurt and being transferred to Florida from a hospital in London. 

“A what?!!” Emily screeched, and Kelley grabbed the back of her hoodie to prevent her from launching herself over the counter at the frightened-looking receptionist. 

Before the woman behind the counter could respond, your very tired-looking best friend appeared around the corner. 

“Hey, Em. She’s back this way,” Kara smiled tightly at your wife, nodding towards the receptionist and gesturing down a hallway to her left. 

“Oh thank god,” Kelley sighed, practically shoving Emily into Kara’s arms. Kara caught her, and held her hand out to your older sister, carefully beginning to guide them down the maze of hallways. 

“I have to warn you, she’s in pretty rough shape,” Kara said softly as they approached the door, her hand pausing on the handle to look both women in the eyes. Emily and Kelley both nodded solemnly, steeling themselves as Kara gently pushed the door open. 

“Damn,” Emily and Kelley gasped as they stepped through the threshold and took in your sleeping form. 

Your normally strong form looked so small under the mass of tubes and wires surrounding you (but Kelley notes that you were very much breathing on your own). The whole left side of your face was bruised, and the left half of your chest and arm was wrapped tightly in gauze. 

Emily very carefully approached the bed, her fingers hovering over your right side, afraid to touch you and cause you more pain. 

“Oh baby,” She breathed out, settling into the chair beside your bed, finally grabbing your uninsured hand very gently and pulling it to her lips. 

She heard Kelley ask “What happened?”, but her eyes never left your face. 

Kara blew out a long breath, seemingly trying to steady herself. “Our base got attacked- retaliation for freeing a village probably,” 

Kelley raised her eyebrow at the woman. She wanted to know everything, not the edited version. 

Kara swallowed hard before continuing. “We split into teams. One to pull security and one to evacuate the hospital. We lost communication after one of our own went Rogue. In the chaos, an intruder slipped through us and went to attack the hospital wing. Y/n got ambushed trying to get an injured private to the helicopter,” 

Silence stretched between them as the soccer stars tried to take in the story. It was so you to do everything in your power to help someone else, even if it was dangerous or detrimental to you. 

“How bad is it,” The words left Emily’s mouth barely above a whisper, muffled slightly by your hand still at her lips. 

“She got hit 3 times. One was a through and through to the shoulder. It chipped her collar bone, but mostly just got some soft tissue. The other two were worse. The through and through in her leg nicked an artery, and the other one in her chest did some damage. Luckily she was able to drag herself back to the hospital wing and they could get her stable. The PJ’s got her to London and they did emergency surgery,” Kara listed off, rubbing the back of her neck and closing her eyes tightly. 

Emily didn’t doubt that seeing you like that was probably one of the most difficult things Kara ever had to do, and she felt bad for making her relive that.  

“Is she gonna be alright?” Kelley asked after a few seconds, cracking with emotion. 

Kara nodded. “Yeah, Lena looked over the X-rays. Said that she would need a lot of rehab, but she should make a pretty full recovery. Right now she’s just sedated to help with the pain,” 

Emily felt her heart unclench at the news, made even sweeter by the mention of Kara’s own wife. Lena was a straight shooter, someone who was brutally honest and equally deft at her job (which was part of the reason the two of you got on so well). She wouldn’t bullshit them and give them false hope. 

“Thank you,” Emily croaked. Kara snorted and shook her head. 

“Wasn’t me. She promised you she’d make it and she wasn’t about to let you down,” 

You had dragged yourself nearly 800 yards to the hospital wing, and the only thing they said you said was that you couldn’t die because you swore to your wife you’d come home. Kara was convinced that you had survived purely on adrenaline and stubbornness (that and dumb luck). At least she hadn’t had to deliver your just in case letter. 

Emily smiled softly at your sleeping form, allowing the steady beep of your heart and your warm hand to comfort her “I know,” 

It was easy to relax now that you were here safe in her arms. Sure, you would have a long road to recovery (and getting you to actually follow the doctor's orders was bound to be a fight), but you were alive with no imminent threat hanging above your head. 

She would be there for you every step of the way.