#i literally cried so much last night my eyes still hurt after waking up
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i have decided i wasn't built to be a human
#why is anxiety so dumb like WHY AM I AFRAID OF EVERYTHING???#why do i make myself physically sick and cry for hours#i literally cried so much last night my eyes still hurt after waking up#i try to relax but i CAAAANNNTTTT#i hate my brain#kenzie.txt
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- 4x3: c. 40:00 Cas comforts Dean after Mary makes a deal w/ Azazel
- 4x7: 15:50 Dean stops Sam from shooting Cas, then Sam mentions that he’s “heard a lot about him”
- 4x7: 39:00 Cas tells Dean he prayed he’d save the town, then he tells him about his doubts and Deans future troubles
- 4x10 & ???: Dean calls “last night on Earth” his best line. He uses this line on Cas
- 4x10: 27:15 “Castiel has this weakness. He likes you.”
- 4x10: 32:50 Cas looking jealous and sad when Dean kisses Anna
- 4x16: 7:30 Cas tells Dean he got in trouble for showing emotion and getting to close to Dean. 8:20 “I would give anything not to have you do this”
- 4x16: 39:00 Cas warns Dean to be careful while Dean is in the hospital, they discuss the first seal and saving Dean from hell
- 4x18: 31:30 Cas tells Dean how to save Sam from Lilith even though he’s not allowed to interfere
- 4x20: 38:00 Deans face when Cas tells him he “learned his lesson when he was in heaven”
- 4x22: 30:40 Cas considers rebelling for Dean. 33:00 He does. 35:20 He fights multiple Archangels for Dean
- 5x1: 5:45 Dean denies Cas’ death 8:25 “I learned that from my friend Cas you son of a bitch”
- 5x1: 31:00 Cas saves Sam and Dean from Zach
- 5x3: 6:10 Cas-“I need your help because your the only one who will help me”
- 5x3: 10:20 Dean fixes Cas’ tie and jacket
- 5x4: 38:50 “Don’t Ever Change”
- 5x8: 38:20 Dean makes Gabriel bring Cas back, then makes sure he’s okay
- 5x13: ?:?? Cas won’t let Dean meet with Anna because it’s not safe
- 5x17: 30:30 Cas and Dean discuss what it’s like to have a deadbeat dad
- 5x18: 25:15 Cas kicks Deans ass for trying to sacrifice himself
- 5x21: 3:50 Cas and Dean bickering like and old married couple then Cas gives Dean a heartfelt apology.
- 6x17: 18:55 “No you’re confusing me with the other angel, the one in the dirty trench coat who is in love with you.”
- 6x17: 38:00 Sam: “So you killed 50,000 people for us?” Cas: *looks at Dean*
- 6x19: 25:20 Bobby reassures Cas that they’ll be back soon, Cas acts like a worried and disappointed wife.
- 6x19: 36:25 Cas yelling “Dean!” when Eve bites him
- 6x19: 40:00 Dean is the only one who doesn’t think Cas is working with Crowley (he’s wrong but it’s sweet)
- 6x20: 4:50 Dean v v worried, “But Cas you’ll call right? If you get into real trouble?”
- 6:30 Crowley implies that Cas is distracted by Dean and tells him he reeks of the Impala.
- 7:20 Cas says that Dean taught him how to care and what to care about. Then Cas saves Sam (for Dean)
- 13:15 Cas says that the worst part of working with Crowley (basically his sworn natural enemy) is that it hurt Dean and that he hated lying to him.
- 25:20 Cas refuses to ask Dean for help because he has “sacrificed too much” even though it means Cas could die.
- 26:00 Crowley tells Cas he has a way for everyone to get a happy ending “with all possible entendres intended” while Cas stares longingly at Dean.
- 33:00 Dean is close to tears when he learns that Cas is working with Crowley, Cas says he did it to protect Dean.
- 35:25 “Dammit Cas we can fix this!” “Dean it’s not broken!” He then tells the boys to run from the demon cloud and Dean gives him the saddest look in the world before being forced to leave him behind.
- 38:00 Cas watches Dean sleep. “I’m doing this for you Dean. I’m doing this because of you!”
- 6x21: 22:40 “I do everything you ask. I always come when you call and I am your friend. Still despite your lack of faith in me and now your threats I’ve just saved you yet again. Has anyone but your closest kin ever done more for you?”
- 6x22: Dean to Cas- “Don’t make me lose you, too.”
- 7x2: 5:35 Dean nearly cries on screen when he thinks Cas is dead
- 7x17: Cas says “I remember ~you~” as soon as he regains his memories.
- 7x17: Cas ask why Dean didn’t tell him all the horrible things Cas did. Parallels the conversation Karen and Dean had about telling Bobby she remembered him killing her and her telling Dean that he had never been on love before.
- 7x21: The face Dean makes when he sees Cas again plus the prolonged eye contact when Cas says Deans name.
- 7x21: Hester telling Dean that when Cas first saved him from Hell he was lost- parallels- Lucifer/Jess saying she was dead the moment she met Sam.
- 7x23: 8:50 “Go ask him. He was your boyfriend first.” Meg to Dean about Cas
- 7x23: 32:45 “I’m sorry but I’d rather have you, cursed or not.”
- 7x23: 36:50 Cas steps in to protect Dean despite spending the whole season avoiding fighting and saying he won’t fight.
- 8x2: 25:00 Cas ran away to keep the Leviathans away from Dean. Dean refuses to leave purgatory without Cas.
- 8x7: 20:30 Deans reaction to seeing Cas all cleaned up.
- 8x7: Dean convinced himself that it was his fault Cas was still in purgatory because he’s a sweet idiot boy who hates himself
- 8x7: 35:00 The whole Dean and Cas conversation about purgatory and Cas doing stuff that puts him in danger.
- 8x8: 12:30 Cas just casually going through Deans stuff and Dean not saying anything.
- 8x8: 13:00 Cas offering to watch over Dean while he slept
- 8x8: 15:15 Dean talks to Cas about feelings and heaven even though Dean hates talking about feelings.
- 8x17: Cas fights Naomi’s mind control for Dean
- 8x23: 22:50 Dean and Cas sadly discuss Cas closing the doors of heaven and say goodbye
- 9x1: Dean prays to Cas and tells him he isn’t mad about the angels falling.
- 9x1: Cas’ first instinct is to explain himself to Dean then to come help him.
- 9x1: Dean begs Cas to “for once, look out for yourself.”
- 9x3: 36:45 Dean to Cas after Cas came back from the dead “Don’t you ever do that again!”
- 9x6: Literally just Dean trying desperately the whole episode to hang out with Cas
- 9x10: 26:00 Dean and Cas talk about how Cas is doing and Dean offers him a rare sincere apology. Plus the “I prefer the term ‘trusting’. Less dumb, less ass.” dialogue
- 9x18: Cas’ little smile when Dean makes a joke about Honor Bars and Cas is just so happy to hear his voice.
- 9x18: Metatron’s illusion of Gabriel calls Cas Dean’s boy-toy
- 9x18: Cas can tell something is wrong with Dean, then Cas yells at Dean about getting the Mark of Cain
- 9x22: Cas chooses Dean over all of Heaven once again
- 9x22: The Cas and Dean conversation about the three of them being enough when an army wasn’t and Cas giving up an army all for Dean
- 9x23: “I’m blaming you for taking Cas’ grace.”
- 10x1: 5:00 Cas about Dean- “I miss him.”
- 10x2: 9:00 Cas’ reaction to learning that Dean is a demon
- 10x3: The conversation between Dean and Cas at the end of the episode. “You look terrible” “You on the other hand, your looking good.”
- 10x5: Deans reaction to Cas and Dean actors hugging and holding hands
- 10x5: “Put as much sub into that text as you possibly can.” *looks directly at fake Cas*
- 10x9: 15:00 Cas tells Dean he’s a good role model. Then asks him if he’s okay and when Dean lies and says he is he pushes it further. Dean makes Cas promise to kill him if he goes Dark
- 10x22: Dean and Cas fight and parallel Cain and his Wife.
- 10x23: Dean sees Cas’ bloody face in the mirror
- 11x1: Cas being more worried about Dean than himself even though Cas is under a spell that will kill him.
- 11x2: Dean calling Cas and stressing out when he doesn’t answer
- 11x3: Dean trying to coax Cas out of the attack dog spell, refusing to fight back when Cas was attacking, freaking out when Cas took a minute to wake up, refusing to let Cas heal him (because he “had it coming”), and refusing to let Cas apologize (because “there’s nothing to apologize for”).
- 11x10: “Dean, I came as soon as you called.” Also: “Stick your tongue out.” Dean-*does*
- 11x11: Dean realizing that something is wrong with Cas (while he is possessed by Lucifer)
- 11x11: Mildred says that Dean is pining for someone else(probably meant to be a reference to Amara, but she told him this after he had seen Cas for the first time in a few days.)
- 11x14: The sadness on Deans face when he realizes Cas is Lucifer and then his determination to save Cas
- 11x15: Dean getting kinda dark when he talks about what he’s willing to do to save Cas and he prioritizes saving Cas over bearing Amara.
- 11x17: Dean once again prioritizing saving Cas over saving the world. Sam reassuring Dean that they’ll save Cas (even though Dean didn’t say anything about what was upsetting him)
- 11x17: The camera zooming in on Dean after Michelle says that there is no normal after losing the man you love.
- 11x18: Dean refuses to put Lucifer in the cage or let him fight Amara while using Cas as his vessel.
- 11x18: The difference in the way Dean looks at Lucifer vs at Cas
- 11x18: Dean about Cas: “Lets go find that idiot and bring him home.”
- 11x19: Dean has been looking for leads non stop for a week since Amara took Cas
- 11x21: Amara uses Cas’s heart to find Dean, then shows Dean images of Cas beaten and bloodied to convince him to turn against Chuck
- 11x23: Dean’s face when he realizes Cas is back and Lucifer is gone.
- 11x23: Dean tells Cas he isn’t stupid and that he always helps
- 11x23: Cas: “Dean are you okay? How do you feel?”
- 11x23: Cas hugging Dean super tight before he goes off to die. Dean entrusting his life’s purpose (look after Sam) then thanking him for everything.
- 12x1: Cas seeing that Dean is alive and hugging him while his voice breaks.
- 12x1: Cas taking the job Dean have him very seriously
- 12x2: Dean adorably venting to Cas about his mommy-issues
- 12x3: Dean- “Morning sunshine want some coffee.” Cas- “No thank you.”
- 12x7: “Well at least I don’t look like a lumberjack.” They are such husbands
- 12x7: “Engaged in what Cas? killing you?”
- 12x8: Cas being so worried about what happened to Sam and DEAN that Kelly escaped.
- 12x9: Mary-“You left them!” Cas- *voice breaking* “Dean told me to go!” Also, just Cas looking so hard for them.
- 12x9: Cas blaming himself for Sam and Dean being taken
- 12x9 Cas knowing how long the boys have been gone down to the hour.
- 12x9: Cas’s voice and eyes when he hears Dean’s voice on the phone.
- 12x9: Cas killing Billie because “You mean too much to me” and “The world needs as many Winchesters as it can get.”
- 12x10: Poor Sam having to deal with Cas and Dean while they fight like an old married couple.
- 12x10: Dean immediately telling Ishim to go to hell when he insults Cas
- 12x10: Sam telling Dean to go to Cas when Dean thought Cas was in trouble
- 12x10: Cas immediately believing Dean about Ishim even though they’re mad at each other. Dean about to let Ishim kill him to save Cas.
- 12x10: Ishim comparing Dean and Cas’s relationship to Ishims relationship with his human lover, then saying he was going to cut Cas’s human weakness
- 12x11: “And Cas is my best friend.”
- 12x12: Dean about Cas- “My shy but devastatingly handsome friend here...”
- 12x12: Dean stressing out and voice breaking as he tries to comfort poisoned Cas
- 12x12: LITERALLY TOLD DEAN THAT HE LOVED HIM WHILE CAS WAS DYING
- 12x12: *looking at Dean* “I love you.” Then adds “I love all of you”
- 12x12: Cas- “Run.” Dean- “Cas, no.”
- 12x12: The look Dean gives Cas when he won’t stop staring at him after he’s healed.
- 12x14: Dean says some very harsh stuff to Mary after finding out the reason they Cas almost died at the lake house was because Mary was working for the British Men of Letters
- 12x15: Dean could tell something was up with Cas after talking to him for less than a minute, over the phone.
- 12x18: Sam trying to make Dean feel better about not hearing from Cas.
- 12x19: Dean literally always acting like a scorned wife when Cas comes back after long periods of time
- 12x19: Dean made Cas a mixtape
- 12x19: Cas- “I ~needed~ to came back here with a win for you.”
- 12x19: Cas- *gesturing between Dean and himself* “You mean... we?” Dean- “Yes, dumbass, we.”
- 12x23: Dean screaming for Cas when he attacks Lucifer and trying to chase after him forcing Sam to drag Dean back through the rift. A direct parallel to Dean pulling Sam away from Jess and the fire in Pilot
- 12x23: Dean kneeling next to Cas’s dead body looking up at the sky completely devastated.
- 13x1: Dean couldn’t bring himself to say dead when referring to Cas
- 13x1: Dean PRAYED to GOD to bring Cas back
- 13x1: “We just lost ~everything~. And now you’re gonna bring ~him~ back.”
- 13x1: Dean personally wrapping Cas’s body and giving him a hunters funeral.
- 13x1: The look of complete devastation on Dean’s face when he burns Cas’s body.
- 13x3: Dean refusing to help save Jack because he blames him for manipulating Cas and getting him killed.
- 13x4: The Empty to Cas: “I know what you love, what you fear. There is nothing for you back there.” He loves Dean and Cas fears that Dean doesn’t love him back.
- 13x5: Sam being worried about Dean who has given up all hope since Cas died.
- 13x5: Dean being so distressed thinking Cas is gone forever that he tries to kill himself
- 13x5: Dean seeing Cas alive again and they both have tears in their eyes.
- 13x6: Dean hugging Cas and saying he’s been gone for “too damn long”
- 13x6: Dean being immediately happier and nicer to everyone once Cas is back
- 13x6: Cas saying “Yes. Yes, he does” (in response to Jack saying Dean really likes cowboys) with the tone of an exhausted spouse.
- 13x6: “I told you, he’s an angry sleeper. Like a bear.”
- 13x6: Dean made Cas watch Tombstone with him.
- 13x6: Dean and Cas dresses like cowboy husbands.
- 13x6: Cas saying “I’m your huckleberry” to Dean in a deep accent and Dean looking away.
- 13x6: Their undercover names are Russel and Kilmer
- 13x14: The whole scene where Cas and Dean fight Gog/Magog and act like an old married couple.
- 13x14: The angry, dark look Cas gives Donatello when he tries to kill Dean
- 13x16: “Dean has him by the thigh!” Cas, jealously: “He ~what~?”
- 13x16: “and that includes the Cartwright twins.” Cas, again jealously: “what did you do with the Cartwright twins?”
- 13x19: Cas angrily confronting Naomi about forcing him to kill a bunch of Dean clones.
- 13x21: Cas secretly sliding Dean more pizza when Mary and Sam left the room.
- 13x21: Cas having to hold Dean back from going after Sam. Dean would have beat the shit out of anyone else who tried to stop him.
- 13x23: Cas trying to stop Dean from giving himself to Michael even if it meant losing Sam AND Jack
- 13x23: Cas sitting alone in the bum jet with tears in his eyes after Dean left
- 14x1: Demon: “How is it you lost Dean. I thought you two were joined at the... everything.”
- 14x1: Dean trying to save Cas from Lucifer then vs Cas trying to save Dean from Michael now
- 14x3: The look that Dean and Cas give each other when Dean comes home.
- 14x9: Cas almost being happy seeing Dean happy. And then having to force himself to not be happy so he doesn’t die.
- 14x12: Cas being phased at Dean for wanting to put himself in the box with Michael forever
- 14x14: Cas is the only Dean will let talk to him about Michael and be honest about how Dean feels
- 14x14: “No, it’s on us.”
- 14x14: Cas’s voice breaking when he talks about the possibility of Dean dying one day.
- 14x18: The pure self loathing in Cas’s eyes when he feels like he failed Dean by not telling him about Jack’s soul.
- 15x2: “You asked ‘what about all of this is real?’ We are.” THE MOST ROMANTIC LINE EVER. (Plus later Eileen and Sam have the same conversation but they get to kiss because homophobia)
- 15x9- 20:00 Dean said that they lost everyone they cared about, then added Cas specifically. Then he says “I had to bury him” not “we”
- 15x9- 23:00 Dean cries when he can’t find Cas. Then he prays to him and apologizes for letting him go. He falls to his knees praying to him and fully crying
- 15x12: “I created the world.” *shows Destiel*
- 15x15: This time when Dean sees Cas leaving the bunker, he stops him. (In reference to Cas saying “you didn’t stop me” when Dean got mad at him for leaving)
- 15x16: This is the the only version of Cas that rebelled for Dean. This universe is literally being saved repeatedly because of Cas’s love for Dean
- 15x18: CAS CONFESSES HIS LOVE TO DEAN then goes to mega hell for being gay
Anyway, Cas loves Dean and Dean LOVES HIM BACK, OKAY?!?!? Feel free to add more
#spn#castiel#dean winchester#destiel#supernatural#deancas#spn season 15#spndaily#superwholock#sam winchester#jack kline#jack winchester#carry on#despair#spn 15x19#spn 15x18#spn season 4#spn season 5#spn season 6#mega hell#gay#husbands#listen they’re married#they gotta bring my boy back#please#I will fist fight andrew dabb in a Denny’s parking lot
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THE DEAL
a/n: i literally wrote it in less than a day because i was inspired by a movie... of god, i have issues, but ANYWAYS! this one is a classic friends with benefits to lovers story with so much angst and a grandiose love confession at the end so buckle up, you are in for a treat!! PLEASE PLEASE PLEEEEASE give feedback if you enjoyed it!!
pairing: Harry X Reader
warnings: some, drinking, sexual content, a hell lot of it, angst and messy emotions, it’s a lot!!
word count: 11.8k
masterlist
If your life was some romantic comedy his would be the moment where the camera would zoom on you, your eyes blankly glued to the ceiling, makeup from last night smudged under them as a muscular, inked arm gets thrown across your chest, a snoozing man beside you as you have the internal little monologue.
“You’re wondering how I got into this situation, right? Completely naked with one of my best friends after a night spent with heavy drinking and ending up fucking in his apartment until we both fell asleep.”
Yeah, this is probably what the voiceover would say as the camera would slowly get farther from you, Harry’s sleeping figure coming into the frame while you’re still lying like a damn statue. This was not supposed to happen. Not that it was bad, because oh God! Harry really is as good as his ex-girlfriends gushed to you when you met them on night outs. You could never blame the women for falling for him, he has the charm, the personality, the humor and definitely the looks. If you weren’t you, you’d be one of those girls who would do anything to get his attention just for a split second. But you’re not.
Growing up with a single mother that was repeatedly fucked over by several men, you were taught to be the kind of independent woman who needs no man. Who only uses them for whatever reason and throws them away before they could even realize what’s happening. Feelings could never be involved in the equations, those are just not for you.
For a while you thought you weren’t even capable of feeling anything at all. But the way you cried when your hamster you got for your sixteenth birthday died changed your mind and you realized that you are just saving yourself the time of allowing people to make you develop feelings for them and then give them the chance to break your heart. You’ve seen that happen to your mother enough times to know that you don’t want to go through that. It’s not worth it and why would you risk it all when you could easily get what you need and move on to the next one?
Your friends always joked how you’re gonna be the single aunt to their children later who would take them to clubs and honestly? You’re just fine with that. Because you always thought that while your married friends will be busy with keeping their marriage together with whatever pathetic man they chose to marry, you’ll be living your best life without a worry on the world. That sounds pretty good for you.
There’s no need to make it prettier than what it is, you’ve had a lot of hookups the past years but you always tried to keep yourself in check, have some kind of rules to follow so you don’t hurt yourself or anyone else in the process. One of those were that under no circumstances would you ever sleep with a friend. No matter how badly you want to, no matter if they are begging, it can never happen.
But you broke that rule.
Turning your head to the side you look at Harry’s sleeping face squished into the pillow and you almost wince, because you know that when he wakes up, this gonna hurt like a bitch. He’s gonna freak out, or what’s worse, he’ll want to take it further, take you out on a date… be in a relationship with you! And you’ll have to break his heart because none of those will ever happen.
You and Harry went to high school together and he is one of the very few people you stayed in touch after graduation. Though you grew a little apart when you went to different universities, later on you both somehow ended up in New York and while you’re working as a graphic designer at a magazine, Harry is making good money from writing music for other artists. He’s been one of your closest friends these past years and while you’ve always found him attractive, you should have never let this happen, because it will mess everything up and you didn’t want to lose such a good friend.
Harry stirs in his sleep next to you, his hand squeezing your side before his eyes blink open, green irises finding your wide eyes. He stops for a moment, looking around, taking in his surroundings before his eyes fall closed again.
“Wow, must have been one wild night?” he mumbles into the pillow before a raspy chuckle falls from his lips.
Last night, the two of you and a couple of your mutual friends celebrated that Harry has gotten his biggest deal so far, having to write an entire album for an up-and-coming artist, so you all got pretty wasted, especially you and him. It’s a little blurry how the two of you ended up like this, but you do remember wildly making out hidden somewhere behind the bar before he asked if you wanted to come to his place. You stupid little thing, should have said no…
Groaning, Harry rolls to his back, his arm falling from you as he lies sprawled out next to you.
“The tequila shots. Shouldn’t have had them,” you rasp out, a smirk tugging on his lips at your words. “So, um… we both can agree this was a one time thing, right?”
Harry peeks at you, pushing himself up a bit so his head rests against the headboard. The sheets slide down a bit lower on his body, revealing his toned chest and his several tattoos. Memories of you kissing them eagerly last night flash into your mind and you can only hope you’re not blushing like a school girl.
“What if I don’t agree?” Harry cocks an eyebrow and you almost groan. You knew this was going to happen!
“Harry, I’m not going out with you. You know me, I don’t do that. It’s nice that you think that it could work between us, but I don’t do relationships and I’m not changing my rules, not even for you.”
Harry starts laughing, as if you just said the best joke of the century, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. You give him a puzzled look as you sit up, holding the sheets to your chest.
“Who talked about dating, Y/N?” he then asks. “You said last night was a one time thing. We fucked last night. What if that wasn’t the only time we did that?”
You start to put the pieces together, though you’d definitely be sharper if you already had your first coffee of the day.
“Are you trying to start a… friends with benefits thing with me?”
“I mean, you could call it whatever you want. I personally really enjoyed last night and judging from the way you were screaming my name, you did too.” Now you’re for sure blushing. “Why not do it again?”
“This is not a movie, H. I don’t think it’s manageable without ruining our friendship.”
“Have you ever tried something like this?” You shake your head no. “Then how could you know?”
“Have you tried it?”
“Never,” he chuckles. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong. We are both cool, smart people. I think we can give it a try and whenever someone is feeling like they had enough, we’re just gonna stop.”
“What if you catch feelings?” you ask, raising eyebrows at him.
“Oh, but what if you fall for me?” he throws the question back with a cocky smirk and you smack his naked chest.
“You know I never do that!”
“I don’t think you can just decide that, but alright,” he chuckles, holding his hands up in defense. “I promise you I won’t catch feelings for you, Y/N. I swear on my…”
“Your mom’s and sister’s life!” you point at him. It’s clear that he thinks it’s silly, but you just keep staring at him until he gives in.
“I swear on my mum’s and my sister’s life that I will not catch feelings for you, Y/N.”
“Alright. And we can end it anytime?”
“Whenever you’ve had enough of me,” he smirks back, so pleased with himself that it’s clear he doesn’t think that could ever happen.
“If you keep that cocky look on your face it’s gonna be a very short deal, Styles,” you warn him, but he just laughs before he quickly pulls you back down to bed, getting on top of you, his hips sinking between your legs and you gasp when you feel that he is already semi-hard.
“Why don’t we get a head start on it then?” he offers, his lips crashing against yours before they travel down your body and soon enough he gives you something that’s a thousand times better than a coffee in the morning.
At first you’re clearly hesitant about it. Not sure if it was a good idea or you just ruined everything between you and Harry, but soon enough you realize that it wasn’t as bad of a decision as you thought it to be.
Harry is the one to call you for the first time, two days after the night you drunkenly hooked up. You’re just leaving the office when he hits you up, asking if you have plans for the night or you’re free to go over to his place. An hour later you find yourself pressed up against the wall of his apartment’s hallway, both of you eager to get each other out of your clothes. Now that it all happens without either of you being drunk, you actually have the chance to think about how good it is with him. He is just the perfect mixture of dominant and soft, knows when to be the boss and when he has to slow down a bit.
He makes you cum three times. Three mind-blowing times, and you also give him two orgasms. You try to make it equal and make it three, but he respectfully says no.
“If you touched my dick again I think I would start crying,” he chuckles jokingly, so you don’t even think about pushing it.
Instead, the two of you order Chinese, have dinner together, talking like you always used to before the deal and then you go home. There’s no awkwardness, no weird situations, not even when you leave. Harry leans closer and for a moment you think he is gonna be corny and kiss you goodbye, but then you feel him smack your ass before pushing you out the door, just like he always did before, joking about how he is gonna charge you rent if you stay any longer.
Nothing has changed, only that you now spend a good chunk of your time together naked, moaning each other’s name before you get back to your usual.
So after that you don’t shy away from reaching out to Harry as well. It becomes a regular thing, the two of you meeting up about two of three times a week. You fuck, hang out a bit and go your separate ways. Slowly, you start to forget about times when you stayed dressed up for more than ten minutes after meeting Harry.
You keep switching between your and his place, but sometimes meet somewhere in the middle. You’ve had sex in a restaurant bathroom, in his car in a parking garage and even in his cousin’s place in Brooklyn. That was a bit odd but still quite pleasing.
Tonight is going to be the first time you’re gonna be out with all your friends and Harry since the deal was made. No one knows about it and you intend to keep it that way.
Once you’re done at work you head home, texting Leticia, another friend from high school to meet you at your place to get ready together. She was Harry’s friend at first, what’s better, she openly hated you at first for some reason.
“You just had a punchable face at fifteen, you can’t blame me,” she used to tell you. It was actually Harry who made the two of you friends and you’ve been close ever since.
You get to your apartment almost at the same time. Leticia starts rambling about her asshole of a boss at the law firm where she works at as you open a bottle of wine to start the evening while you roam through your wardrobe for an outfit.
“Is Leo coming? I owe him a few bucks from last time,” Leticia wonders, digging into your dresser for a pair of tights she can borrow to pair with her leather skirt.
“I think he is, but he is going to be late. He is coming from Staten Island from his dad’s,” you muse, checking yourself out in the red dress you just tried on, not quite pleased with the look, so you quickly work down the zipper and look for something else.
“Um, whose is this?”
Turning around you see that Leticia is holding up a shirt Harry left at yours a few days ago. She is clearly confused about the men’s clothing between your stuff, because you are not one to steal them from the men you sleep with since you don’t really want anything from them to remind you of them.
“Oh, um, that’s… That’s Harry’s. He left it here a few days ago,” you shrug, not making a big deal out of it, but Leticia is nosier than that.
“And why is Harry leaving his clothes around your place?”
“Is that a crime?” you snort, trying to play it cool.
“No, but in what kind of situation did this shirt come off of Harry and end up in your dresser?”
You can’t think of a good answer that would stop her from interrogating you, and the way you’ve just gotten silent is telling her more than words could. She drops the shirt, eyes widening at you and it’s clear that she put two and two together.
“Oh my God! You’re sleeping with Harry!”
“No! I’m… I just—We…”
“You two are totally fucking! What the fuck!” she gasps in complete shock as you pinch the bridge of your nose.
“Let me explain it, alright? W-We hooked up on the night when we went out to celebrate his big album deal.”
“When I couldn’t go, right?”
“Yeah. So we were both very drunk and it just happened. And I really thought it would ruin everything but we somehow ended up making a deal.”
“Jesus, you guys are acting out the Friends With Benefits movie? Who are you, Mila fucking Kunis?”
“It’s not like that!” you defend yourself quickly, but then you realize that it’s just like that so far. “Well, it kind of is, but the ending won’t be like that.”
“Do you really think you can just do it with absolutely no strings?” Leticia sighs, her hands coming to her hips as she stares back at you.
“It’s been going great, so I really think it’s doable. And if any of us decides they had enough, we’ll just call it quits.”
“Yeah, because it’s that easy,” she rolls her eyes. “One of you will catch feelings and someone is gonna end up crying, Y/N.”
“No, that’s not gonna happen,” you shake your head stubbornly. “He promised it won’t happen.”
“Feelings don’t give a shit about promises! I hope you really know what you’re doing, because I don’t want to have to choose between the two of you,” she grumbles before throwing Harry’s shirt back into the drawer, grabbing the tights she’s been looking for.
Leticia doesn’t hold a grudge for the news she just found out, but she surely has gotten you thinking. Is it really gonna end bad? Why can’t there be a scenario where it goes perfectly fine and no one gets hurt? Harry promised it’s gonna be alright and he has been proven right so far, so why are you having second guesses now?
Arriving at the bar the majority of your friend group is already there, including Harry. You sit across him in the small booth, just exchanging a quick smile before the first round arrives and the evening starts. You allow yourself to take a better look at him while he listens to Mitch’s story and you can’t say that you don’t find him hot. He is wearing a vintage, floral printed shirt, the first few buttons left undone, so you have a nice view of his chest and his necklace you’ve felt under your lips so many times before when you were kissing down his body. He keeps twisting and playing with his several rings and it makes you stare at his hands for a tad bit longer than you intended to. God, he looks so damn good, you really just want to fuck him here and now.
You keep changing who goes up to the bar to order and the third round is yours, so sliding out of the booth you go to the bar and wait for your turn. A young, handsome guy is making the drinks and you clearly catch his eyes.
“And what can I get for you, beautiful?” he smirks at you when it’s finally your turn.
“Two vodka sodas, a martini and three vodka cranberries,” you smile back at him with a hint of flirting in your tone.
It’s kind of second nature to you, a few charming smiles and winks have gotten a lot of free things for you in your life and you never miss a chance to use your advances.
“All that for one pretty girl?” he teases you.
“I would be all over the floor if I drank all of it,” you chuckle, pulling your card out of your wallet, tapping it on the terminal as he finishes up the drinks, kindly putting them on a tray so you can easily bring them over to the booth.
“Don’t worry, I would surely pick you up then,” he winks at you, placing the last drink to the tray before you thank him and head back.
As you take your previous seat you notice that Harry is watching you intently.
“What?” you mouth him over the conversation at the table.
“Nothing,” he shakes his head, turning his gaze away, grabbing his drink and focusing back on everyone else.
You go up to the bar two more times, once to ask for some chips and once for some napkins after a drink has gotten spilt onto the table. Every time you exchange a few words with the bartender and you have to admit, he has a great sense of humor paired with his looks.
Sometime later in the evening you decide to switch to water, so you go up to the bar a fourth time, the bartender coming to you right away at this point. As you wait for him to grab you your drink you feel a hand on your lower back. Turning to the side you see Harry standing next to you.
“Hey, want to come to my place after this?” he asks, leaning closer to your ear. His hot breath hits your exposed skin on your neck and a shudder runs down your spine, especially with his hand still on the small of your back.
“You want a rerun of your first time?” you smirk back at him, referring to the drinks you both have had, though it’s definitely not as wild as that night was.
“No, but this dress is making it hard not to want to rip it off,” he bluntly tells you as you glance down at yourself. At last you decided to wear a black bodycon dress that surely shows every dip and curve of your body and apparently Harry has been enjoying the show.
The bartender arrives with your water, his eyes falling on Harry and you see that he is a little taken aback by his presence.
“Hey man, can you get me another one as well? I’ll pay for both,” Harry nods at him and there’s something foreign in his tone that you can’t really put your finger on. The bartender just nods back and goes to grab another water.
“What if I wasn’t in the mood?” you tease him, continuing the discussion where you left it a moment ago.
“Oh, please!” he chuckles smugly. “I saw you eyeing me from across the table, Y/N. I know you are definitely in the mood.”
He is right. So damn right. You’ve been crossing your legs under the table for a while now, feeling your arousal growing every time you saw him run his tongue over his lips or whenever his finger played with the lip of his glass, imagining him doing the same with your body.
Biting into your bottom lip you need to take a deep breath, but when Harry sees your teeth digging into your lip, he loses his patience.
“Or we can just do it now,” he growls lowly, grabbing your hand before he starts pulling you towards the restrooms. You don’t even have the chance to protest, not that you want to.
He is quick to pull you into an empty restroom, locking the door behind the two of you before his lips attack yours, pushing you against the door with vigor and hunger. His hands are already bunching your dress up around your waist and you moan his name when your hips meet and you feel his hard length through his jeans.
“We have to be quick, so no one notices we disappeared,” he pants as he helps you up to the counter, your back hitting the cold mirror behind you.
“Then shut up and just fuck me,” you challenge him and it makes him absolutely feral.
You don’t have time to enjoy it the way you usually do in bed, but the excitement of the situation alone has gotten you so wet that you’re already dripping when he pushes your panties to the side with one hand while his other works on his own pants.
“Fuck, already so wet for me, huh?” he breathes out, his lips brushing against yours before they kiss you fully.
“Just like how you’re rock hard for me,” you grin against his lips, a hand wandering down to his cock as you pull it out of his boxers, stroking it a few times before he pulls a condom out of his back pocket and wraps himself up. “Were you counting on this quickie, Styles?” you ask when you realize that he just had a condom ready on him.
“I knew for sure I’m gonna fuck you tonight, but wasn’t sure how long I’m gonna last,” he grins, capturing your lips again before he pushes himself inside you with no warning, making you both gasp.
“Fuck! Harry!” you moan as he starts moving rapidly, definitely not taking his time like he usually does. He is pounding into you without mercy, panting against your lips as his ring clad fingers are digging into the flesh of your thighs.
“You like that? Like it when I fuck you somewhere public?” he growls, making your legs curl around his hips.
Your hands move up his chest and neck, fingers tangling into his curls and you give them a tug, earning an animalistic grunt from him as he starts going even harder and faster. You’re rapidly getting closer to your orgasm.
“You close?” he pants and you nod. “Come on, cum all over my cock, Y/N.”
A few more thrusts and your walls tighten around his dick, squeezing him as you gasp, riding your high, your head falling backwards, meeting with the mirror behind you. Harry follows you a few pushes later, moaning your name repeatedly before his movements come to a halt and you both take a moment to catch your breath.
When he pulls out you both just quietly clean yourselves up, fixing your clothes and hair so you don’t entirely scream sex with your appearances.
“My offer to come to mine after still stands,” he smirks, running a hand through his hair before you head out.
“Tempting, but I have some work to do in the morning, so no,” you turn him down, stepping out to the dark hallway that leads back to the bar. Harry grabs your hand and pulls you back, his lips smashing against yours, surprising you with his move. He kisses you deeply, sucking on your bottom lip hard before he pulls back.
“What was that for?” you ask out of breath.
“If you’re not coming over, I needed something to have a good night,” he shrugs with a smug smirk before you return to the bar.
You catch the bartender’s look as you finally get your waters and Harry pays for them. You catch the two men eyeing each other for a moment before you and Harry return to the table and you forget about the whole thing.
A Sunday afternoon you’re lounging at Harry’s. You jumped at each other’s bones when you arrived, but now you’re chilling on his couch, watching a series you both wanted to start so you decided to give it a go together. Your leg is lying across Harry’s lap, his hands absentmindedly kneading your thighs. It feels nice, like a massage, especially after how sore he made you earlier, stretching you out more than he usually does with a new pose you tried out.
Your phone chimes next to you and tearing your gaze away from the TV you check to see who just sent you a text. It was one of your coworkers, Anthony, he sent you a raging text about how he still has no idea what to wear to the company party that’s gonna be next Saturday and you realize that you totally forgot about it.
“Shit!” you curse under your breath.
“What?” Harry asks, pausing the show.
“I have this stupid work party next weekend and I totally forgot about it,” you growl, checking your calendar quickly if you can squeeze in a quick shopping spree before Saturday or you’ll have to find something in your closet.
“Aren’t those things nice with a lot of free food and drinks?” Harry wonders.
“Yeah, but I don’t like it, because all my colleagues bring their partners and I’m usually the only single one and they keep trying to set me up with someone,” you roll your eyes even at the thought of having to suffer through another one of those awkward conversations about your love life. Like it’s any of their concern!
“I can go with you if that helps,” he offers and you give him a look over your phone. “What? I’m sure if you brought someone they wouldn’t bug you.”
“But we are not together,” you remind him narrowing your eyes at him.
“They don’t have to know that. It’s a win-win, Y/N. Your colleagues would stop nagging you and I can eat and drink for free,” he smirks, clearly pleased with his little plan.
“I mean… you’re not wrong,” you sigh.
“See? Then it’s settled,” he pats your legs, smirking widely at you, but you’re still not entirely convinced. “Come on, Y/N. It’s gonna be fun!”
“This is so cliché, Harry!” you groan, your head falling back against the arm of the couch. “Pretending to be a couple? Straight out of a damn movie.”
Harry lifts your legs up so he can get out from under them, placing them back to the cushion before he climbs over to you, half of his body pressing onto yours as he squints his eyes at you.
“We can fuck in the bathroom, if you want,” he bluntly offers and you just start laughing at his dirty mind and technique of convincing you. “What? There’s literally no better offer out there. Free food, free drinks and free sex. Really good sex, if I may add,” he points out and you smack his chest lightly.
“Didn’t know you were thinking about charging me for the sex,” you joke.
“Might as well do, baby. Especially if it’s the best you can get,” he smugly huffs and you’d retort something funny, but you get caught up on the name.
“Baby? Since when are you calling me baby?”
“Since we are gonna be a couple next week. Gotta rehearse, baby,” he repeats the nickname and a foreign feeling bubbles in the pit of your stomach. Why is this one little word making you feel things you haven’t before? “And you know what else we can rehearse?” he continues, oblivious to your inner dialogue.
You don’t get to answer upon feeling his hand slide between your legs, fingers gently pressing onto your clothed clit and though you can’t stop a moan from slipping through your lips, you still grab his wrist and pull him away.
“My legs are too sore, I wouldn’t enjoy another round of you pounding into me,” you tell him and you can see the proud glimmer in his eyes that he was the one who got you into this state, though he luckily doesn’t comment on it.
“It doesn’t have to be pounding, then,” he smirks and leaning down he kisses you, taking his time as his hand frees itself from your grip and slides under your shorts and panties, fingers meeting your already throbbing bud.
He repositions himself so one of his thighs are between your legs, his lips never leaving yours as his fingers start drawing circles on your clit, sending pleasure down your body in waves.
“Fuck,” you breathe out against his lips when two of his fingers tease your entrance before pushing all the way inside, curling them between your clenching, wet walls.
“No, we are not fucking right now,” he smirks, never missing a chance to joke around and you want to retort to his comment, but words get caught in your throat when his thumb starts playing with your clit, fingers sliding in and out of you in a steady rhythm.
“So, are we on for Saturday? It’s gonna be fun, hm?”
The little shit is using his fingers to convince you and he has the audacity to ask you questions when you are about to see stars. Sometimes you really do hate how big of a smug fucker Harry is, but it’s hard to feel hatred for him when he is about to make you cum again.
“I-I don’t… Harry!” you gasp when he abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, right when you were so close. “I was about to fucking cum!” you growl, raging eyes meeting his green irises.
“I know,” he chuckles. “Say that you’re in and I’ll make you cum.”
“You motherfu—“
You don’t get to finish, his lips smashing against yours as his fingers return, moving faster than before, quickly pushing you towards the edge again.
“Say it. Say it, Y/N,” he mumbles against your lips as your chest is heaving and you start buckling your hips to meet his movements.
“Fuck… Okay! I’m in, just please make me cum!” you whine, hands gripping his shoulders like your life depends on it.
“Good girl,” he smirks and finishes you off without any more teasing.
You cry out his name, fingers digging into his muscles as you push your thighs together, trapping his hand between them while he keeps fingering you oh so perfectly. He makes sure you ride out the last waves of your orgasm before he pulls his fingers out and without batting an eye, he just licks them and fixes your panties and shorts before returning to his previous position with your legs across his lap, starting the show like nothing really happened.
Saturday morning you’re able to quickly get your nails done and Leticia comes with you, the two of you having brunch together afterwards. You go to a new place near the nail salon and as the waiter arrives with your orders, you notice that he slides a napkin onto the table with a small smile.
Grabbing it you see a phone number scribbled onto it. Normally, you send back a smile and tug the napkin into your purse, but this time you just leave it on the table and decide to ignore it.
“What the hell is up with you?” Leticia asks and glancing up at her you see her gesturing towards the napkin. “You don’t seem too thrilled about the approach which is very unlike you.”
“Yeah, I don’t know. I’m just… not interested,” you shrug, reaching for your fork.
“Not interested? The dude looks like the lovechild of Chris Hemsworth and Johnny Depp. He is exactly your type, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I’m just not seeking another hookup right now, that’s it.”
“Oh my God!” Leticia gasps and you give her a puzzled look.
“What?”
“You don’t want other men because of Harry!”
“What? That’s crazy,” you laugh, because she has clearly left her mind at the salon for even thinking that.
“Have you hooked up with anyone else than Harry since you’ve made your little deal?”
“I, uhh… Flirted with the bartender when we were out together.”
“Flirting doesn’t count, not even in relationships.”
“I don’t think many would agree with that, Tish,” you huff.
“Okay, but did you have any interest in fucking someone else?”
“I don’t get it why you are making a big deal out of it. Why would I seek anyone else if I’m perfectly pleased by him?”
“Honey, that’s like… how relationships work.”
“That’s not true,” you shake your head, though what would you know about relationships? Your first and only one was when you were seventeen and it lasted twenty-one pathetic days.
“Are you fucking with anyone else?” She asks, eyebrows raised at you as you shake your head no. “Are you fucking him?”
“Obviously,” you scoff.
“Do you spend time together that doesn’t include sex?”
You are almost quick to say no, but then you realize that would be a big ass lie. Every time he comes over to your place or you’re at his, it’s never just the sex. That’s always primary, but not everything you do. All the dinners, the movies and shows you’ve watched together, when you sit on your tiny balcony with a bottle of wine, talking and laughing like you always did before the deal, something always happens after the sex.
Your silence once again answers Leticia’s question. Reaching over the table she takes your hand in hers, giving it a soft squeeze.
“Girl, you are totally dating Harry.”
Leticia once again manages to put a flea in your ear about this whole Harry thing. You wish she didn’t say a thing, because now you can’t think of anything else than the fact that you really are doing all the things with Harry that people who are dating do.
You get so riled up that you almost cancel on the evening, but you’d hate to have to sit through the evening with your colleagues alone when you said you’d be bringing someone. That would make their usual nagging a hundred times worse. So instead, you suck it up and decide to ignore the issue just for the time being and you get ready.
You were able to find a new dress beforehand, the yellow dress is truly a sight to the sore eyes with the corset-like top and very subtle lace details here and there. It’s a little daring, but everyone goes all out for these parties usually and you definitely don’t want to be underdressed.
Harry texts you that he is in front of the building a little before seven, holding up the taxi he came with so you quickly grab everything you need and head out.
You’re the first one to see him through the glass entrance doors of your building, he is standing next to the car in a simple black suit and a soft yellow shirt underneath. It was actually your idea to match your outfits and he surely understood the assignment, especially seeing his also yellow nails.
Part of you is still hung up on what Leticia told you, but a bigger one is so excited to see him and also very into his look for the evening, that you push your doubts to the back of your mind and step out of the building with a shy smile on your lips as his eyes fall on you and you see his lips part.
“Wow! This dress is… wow!” he breathes out, his eyes raking your frame up and down shamelessly as you walk closer.
“Do you know any other words than wow?” you tease him, biting into your bottom lip.
“Yeah. How about: I would love to bend you over this taxi and take you here and now in this dress?”
Your face heats up immediately, slapping his arm, but then you leave your hand on his bicep and give it a squeeze as your answer: you’d definitely love that if it wasn’t kind of illegal to have sex out on a busy street.
The ignorance in you is so high that you don’t even mind how Harry keeps a hand on your thigh in the car, what’s more, you’re quite liking the warmth of his touch on you. His fingers are gently tapping against the music the driver is playing and he even hums a little along the songs.
“Hey, how is the album writing going?” you ask to break the silence a little.
“Great! They asked for fifteen songs until the end of August, so I have plenty of time, but I’m already done with six,” he beams, and you smile back at him proudly.
“That’s amazing. Can I hear any of them sometime?”
“I mean… if you buy the album?” he chuckles, making you roll your eyes at him. “I’ll see what I can do about that,” he then adds, giving your leg another squeeze before turning towards the window.
The party is just the same as it always is. A luxurious evening to celebrate the company’s success in the past six months, a way to give back to the employees and make them feel appreciated with all the free stuff. It’s nice, but you don’t feel like it’s necessary, people would be happier with a raise after all, than one night of free food and drinks.
Harry holds your hand as you walk in, the majority of the guests already present, music playing and there are several open buffet tables and bars in the gigantic ballroom that was decorated in a forest-like theme just for tonight.
“So you did not lie about bringing a date!” Anthony beams as soon as he sees you, his boyfriend, Pete following him right behind, both of them wearing matching burgundy suits.
“Have I lied to you about anything?” you chuckle awkwardly.
“Plenty of times,” he points out before turning towards Harry. “Hello handsome, I’m Anthony, Y/N’s favorite coworker, and this is my boyfriend, Pete.” They all shake hands, Harry smiling back at them warmly before his hand finds yours again, his fingers lacing together with yours in an instant.
“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you, I’m Harry.”
“Oh my! The accent!” Anthony gushes, clearly already a fan of Harry’s. “I was really afraid Y/N just said that she is bringing someone so we would get out of her hair this time.”
“I feel offended,” you give him a look, but he just shrugs it off, even though he is more right than he knows.
“Come on, let’s get you guys a drink, we are all sitting over there!”
Joining all your coworkers at the table, you get a head start on the food and drinks, not shying away from stacking everything you like onto your plate. Talking, mixing and mingling, Harry stays right next to you, charming everyone the two of you meet, earning you some approving looks from your colleagues that usually try to set you up with someone they know. This time, you’re left in peace the moment they see Harry with you, his hand always somewhere on you, holding your hand, the small of your back, your hips or waist or, your personal favorite, the back of your neck under your hair. His presence is uplifting already, but his tiny touches just warm you even more on the inside.
“I have to say, Y/N, you are absolutely glowing!” Dianne, one of the editors compliment you when the two of you are at the bar waiting for your drinks to be refilled. Harry stayed back at the table, deep in conversation with Pete about guitars, from what you could understand from their conversation.
“Oh, thank you!” you chuckle softly.
“This man is for sure treating you well. It’s so great to see you finally finding your person.”
She meant well with her comment, but it’s what brings everything you kept hidden in the back of your head out to the front. Tonight was supposed to be all pretending, making everyone believe something that’s not even there, but then why do you feel like it’s real? Like you fooled yourself with everyone else as well?
Your eyes fall back to Harry at the table, who is intently listening to something Pete is telling him and as if he had a sixth sense, his eyes snap at you, a smile stretching across his pretty face at an instant that makes you stomach dance again, heart beating oddly fast.
What is happening to you? This cannot be real, you can’t be having feelings, especially not for Harry. No, you do not allow that for yourself, emotions are off limits for you, because if you fall for someone that gives them the chance to leave you and break you and you’ve seen what it does to a woman. You got enough of the suffering through your mother and you vowed not to let it happen to you. And not even Harry Styles will change that. This is about sex and nothing else, no feelings are involved and that will not change. You won’t let it.
Excusing yourself from Dianne you quickly go back to the table, the refills long forgotten as you take your seat next to Harry. His hand instantly finds your leg as he looks at you with a sweet smile at first that turns into slight confusion.
“Thought you went for a refill?”
“Forget the drinks,” you shake your head, leaning closer to his ear. “You promised me bathroom sex.”
You feel the shift in him right away, how he bites into his bottom lip, his bright green irises darkening at your words, his hold on your leg tightening. His gaze flickers to your eyes and you want to devour him, you want him to take you here and there to prove you that this is all it’s about: sex.
Clearing his throat he mumbles a lame excuse as he pulls you from your chair, tugging you towards the restrooms, you try to keep up with his pace in your heels, but you also can’t wait for him to slam you against the door and fuck you quick and hard.
As soon as you’re locked away from the party in one of the bathrooms, your lips collide with his as he pushes you up against the door, a leg coming between your thighs and you can’t stop yourself from grinding on him.
“Fuck,” he rasps out, hands cupping your jaw as he angles your head just right while your hands are already traveling down his body to reach his pants, eager to get them undone as fast as possible.
However the sudden rush and desperation catches Harry’s eyes and he grabs your hands, stopping you mid-action.
“Hey, everything alright?” he asks, out of breath, concern filling his eyes.
“I just need you to fuck me,” you bluntly reply, but he doesn’t move.
“Okay, but why do you look so shaken up? Did something happen?”
“Harry, stop babying me! I said I’m fine, I just want you to fuck me!” you snap, losing your patience. Not sure if it’s with him or with yourself though.
“You’re obviously not fine! You are snapping at me for being decent and making sure you’re okay!” Harry steps away from you, the moment completely ruined as all physical contact ends with him, his eyes staring back at you in disbelief and you feel like a ticking bomb that’s about to explode.
“It’s not your concern if I’m okay or not. We have a deal, just go with that and leave the rest to me!”
“But above the deal we are friends too. I’m not gonna just… fuck you senseless when you’re obviously upset about something. You’re not in the right mindset.”
“Oh my God, stop being so fucking nice! Stop making these grand gestures and stop pretending like you give a fuck!” You raise your voice and it surely surprises him, but he is still more concerned than angry at your outburst.
“What do you mean pretending? I do care about you! Is that a fucking crime now?!”
“It is because it is for the wrong reasons!” you retort, feeling your throat closing up at the same time. Oh God, you hope you won’t start crying, that will make it even worse. “I think you are taking this pretending a little too far tonight. We are not a couple, this is not real, Harry,” you remind him.
He stares back at you for what feels like eternity and you wish you could read his mind, because you can’t read anything from his eyes, he just stands there like a statue and you feel panic crawling up your spine, slowly digging its claws into your flesh.
And then he finally breaks his silence.
“And would it be so bad if it was real?”
You can’t help a sob that emits from you, feeling like your guts are in a tight grip by his words. This is exactly what you didn’t want to happen.
“No, take that back!” you whine.
“I’m not taking it back! Y/N, what we’ve been doing these past weeks is exactly what a relationship is like and you didn’t seem to have a problem with it until a label was put on it. It doesn’t have to change anything!”
“But it is! And you know I don’t do this!”
“Don’t do what? Feelings? You don’t get to choose that!” he chuckles bitterly.
“I do! I fucking do! And I chose not to have them so… this is ending here, because you clearly caught feelings,” you pant in desperate need of getting out of the bathroom, but when you are about to open the door Harry’s hand snaps against it, keeping it closed. You rest your forehead against the cool surface of it, feeling Harry stand so close to you behind, his chest is touching your back.
“Don’t just walk away, we are in the middle of a conversation,” he growls, his voice filled with anger and warning.
“I don’t have anything to say to you,” you whisper, shaking your head as you turn around and face him, your back pressing against the door.
“But I do,” he simply replies. “Why do you think you can just run away from feeling anything for the rest of your life? Why would it be so bad if you fell for someone, huh? I know you do have feelings, I know you well, Y/N. You’re not some cold hearted jerk, you are a caring and loving person, so why won’t you let yourself be happy?”
“I am happy the way I am, have you thought about that?”
“No, you’re not. I’ve known you half my life, I know that you want to be cared for, you want to be loved and cherished, yet you push away everyone who wants to give you that.”
“Because it’s not that easy, Harry!” you snap at him. “It’s never just the lovey-dovey shit! Feelings come with hurt and pain and heartbreaks and I don’t need that! I can’t handle that!”
“It’s not always the case! But if you never put yourself out there, you’ll never find the happiness you’re seeking!”
“Well, for me, it doesn’t worth it! I don’t want to fall for someone, plan my future with them and open up to them completely only for them to fall out of love with me one day and decide they don’t want anything to do with me! I don’t want to give anyone the chance to hurt me like that, because I’ve seen what it does to a person! I witnessed it all, Harry! I will not be a victim to that!”
You’re full on shouting, tears rolling down your cheeks at this point. You are letting everything out that’s been bottled up deep inside of you all this time. Nothing can make you believe in the fairytale that will never become your reality and you rather save the time and pain than experiment with it.
What really hurts is that now you are losing your friend. Your best friend. Because the way Harry is looking at you makes it obvious that you’ll never be like before the deal. The hurt, the shock, the panic and the anger, it all mixes in his wide-eyed gaze and it’s like a knife into your chest.
“You promised me, Harry,” you sob, voice now barely more than just a whisper. “You swore you wouldn’t catch feelings but you lied!”
“I didn’t lie,” he simply answers clenching his jaw. “I said I wouldn’t catch feelings for you, but truth is… I already had them. I was already in love with you, have been for a while. And you know what? I think you love me too, but you’re just too afraid to admit it. I know it because I can feel it. The way you touch me, look at me, the way you talk to me, it’s written all over you, but you choose to ignore it.”
“You don’t know shit,” you shake your head vigorously. “You think you know it, but you don’t.”
“Stop denying it, Y/N! You can’t just switch it off! Loving is not as horrendous as you think it is! Yes, it comes with pain too, but the good is always there to make you forget about it. You have to give it… you have to give yourself a chance!”
“I don’t have to do anything, Harry,” you sass back, pushing him away so you have the chance to sneak out of the room before he could stop you. But he doesn’t let it end that easily. Running after you he catches your wrist before you could get out of the hallway, pulling you back.
“Don’t just fucking walk away, Y/N! We need to talk about this!”
“No, we don’t. And I’m done with this. Done with… you.”
It hurts. The words rolling off of your tongue hurt, but you choose to ignore it once again as you shake his hand off of yourself, marching back to your table to grab your bag and leave.
“What do you mean you’re done with me? Don’t do this, Y/N! Let’s just fucking talk!”
Harry keeps trying to stop you, but you’re determined to leave. Your coworkers notice the little scene, but you don’t pay it any attention as you head out of the room, knowing well they’ll talk shit about you behind your back as soon as you’re out of the building.
“Y/N for fuck’s sake just stop already!” Harry snaps, grabbing your arm once again when you’re outside, pulling you back, but you’ve had enough.
“No! I’m not stopping, you need to stop! Stop trying to make yourself believe this is anything more than just the deal we made! It’s not and it will never be, because you don’t get to have the privilege of hurting me, nobody gets to do that!”
“Who said I want to hurt you?! That’s the last thing I would want to do! It’s not as cruel as you imagine it, Y/N. I know that your mum had a terrible love life when you were younger, but that’s not the only side to love! There are so much good about it, so much to fight for and endure with the bad sides, you can’t just throw all of it out the window because you decided love is just not for you!”
“I can and I will. Watch me!” you bite back, tearing your arm out of his hold as you step to the side of the pavement and wave a taxi down.
“Please don’t get into that car, Y/N, let’s talk!”
“We talked enough,” you huff as the car stops in front of you and you hop inside, but just as you are about to close the door Harry once again stops you.
“Y/N, I love you. Please don’t do this!” he begs, so much sorrow and pain radiating from his face and for a moment you fall weak. You almost reach out to him, because part of you hates seeing him like this, especially knowing that it’s because of you. You just want him to be happy, but you know it’s not gonna be with you. You can never give him what he wants and needs. He’ll be better off without you.
“I’m sorry,” you choke out before pulling the door closed and the car drives away. Turning around you see him stand on the pavement, completely broken and shaken, his hands tangling into his hair as he angrily kicks at the dirt before the car melts into the traffic and he falls out of your sight.
You did it for your and Harry’s sake. It had to be done and you are both better off this way. At least that’s what you’ve been trying to convince you to believe.
But why does it hurt so badly then?
Harry tried you calling a million times after you left him at the party, he even came after you and banged on your door for thirty minutes straight, begging you to let him in and just talk, but you didn’t even answer him. Just waited until he left before you curled up in the shower and cried for about an hour.
The calls and texts kept coming in the next few days, but after a while he gave up. He got nothing but silence from your side and one last, long ass text that you didn’t even read because you knew you’d just start crying again, he finally gave up.
You were left alone with all the pain and emptiness and you realized how big part of your life Harry played before. Somehow, everything reminded you of him and you couldn’t do anything without wishing he was with you.
You truly believed that time will heal you, that soon you’ll realize that you made the right decision, but days turned into weeks and nothing changed, you just learned to live with the pain. You stopped going out with your friends and not just because you were afraid of seeing Harry, but because you genuinely couldn’t get yourself to leave the house. Your evenings consisted of binge eating all the ice-cream you could find in your freezer and watching reruns of your favorite shows, but nothing could really take your mind off of Harry.
Day after day you cancelled on Leticia as well until she had enough of your hermit life. She got fed up watching you sink into your pit of sorrow and decided to take things into her own hands and not let you run away from her.
A Friday evening you’re doing what you’ve been doing for weeks now, lying on your couch in sweatpants, scrolling through Netflix when there’s a knock on your door. You wait, hoping whoever it is will think you’re not home and go away, but another obnoxious knock rips through the apartment and you growl.
“I know you’re in there bitch, open the fucking door!” Leticia shouts from outside and you curse the day you became friends with her. Maybe you would have been better off as enemies.
“I’m busy!” you call out, but make your way to the front door anyway, opening it to reveal her.
“Yeah, I can see that. Busy with being a bag of trash,” she comments on your appearance, walking inside without an invitation.
“Jeez, you really did wake up today and chose violence,” you mutter under your breath as you shut the door closed.
Leticia is quick to turn the TV off and open up the windows as you just stand there, not sure what she is doing here.
“When did you clean this place? And when was the last time you took a shower?” she asks, her nose scrunching when she takes a better look at you.
“Okay, did you come here to offend me? Because I don’t need that so please leave.”
“No, I’m here to beat some sense into you.”
“Good luck with that,” you scoff, taking your spot on the couch once again. You reach for the remote with the intention of turning the TV back on, but Leticia stands in front of the screen, blocking the device completely as she stares down at you with a disapproving look, arms folded on her chest.
“You’re acting like a child, Y/N. Avoiding everyone and being mad at the whole world, are you an emo teenager now or what?”
“I’m not mad at the whole world!”
“Okay, then you’re mad at just Harry, still, it’s a mistake.”
“I’m not mad at only Harry either,” you admit truthfully.
“Who else then?”
“Myself?” you mumble, eyes falling closed as you slide lower down on the couch.
“That makes the two of us, but why are you mad at yourself?” she asks, finally moving from her spot in front of the TV as she sits next to you on the couch, crossing her legs as she waits for your answer.
“Because…” you start with a sigh, opening your eyes, but you avoid looking at her, instead, you stare at the wall across you. “Because I can’t fucking stop thinking about him,” you admit and your lips start trembling instantly, just like every time you think about him. “I miss him so fucking badly, Tish! I miss our conversations, I miss his stupid jokes, I miss him raiding my fucking fridge and I miss…”
You bite your tongue, not wanting to admit the next thoughts loudly. Because you miss kissing him, you miss holding him and be held by him. You miss sex too, but you miss the tiny things even more, the way his lips feel against yours, how he smiles against them when you whimper his name and you miss the awkward little things the most. When he accidentally bumps his head against yours or when say random shit right before he pushes into you just to make you laugh, or when he leans in for a kiss but misses it and ends up kissing your nose or just the corner of your mouth. You miss everything about him and you hate him for that, but you hate yourself even more. It feels like your own conscious has betrayed you.
Shutting your eyes closed you let the tears roll down your cheeks as Leticia scoots closer and wraps her arms around you, cooing soothingly at you.
“It’s alright. It’s totally normal, Y/N.”
“It is not! Not for me at least!” you protest pulling back, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hands.
“Stop with the bullshit already!” she growls in annoyance. “You are not some kind of ice queen who is incapable of loving! You love me, right?”
“Yeah, but that’s different,” you roll your eyes.
“Not really. You love your other friends as well, right?” You nod. “And you love your mom,” she adds and you nod again. “Would you do anything for these people?”
“Of course.”
“Do you like spending time with them? Do you care about them in all kinds of ways?”
“Yes,” you sigh, fumbling with the hem of your shirt.
“Do you feel the same way about Harry? Do you care about him, would you do anything for him to make him happy?”
“Yes,” you whisper truthfully.
“Then don’t complicate it. You love him, no big deal! And he surely loves you back, because he told you, right?” You nod. “Then pull your head out of your ass and just let yourself be happy for once.”
“Why are you coming with this too? I was happy on my own too!”
“No, you were getting by,” she points it out. “You were doing good, but you weren’t… a whole. Harry gave you everything you missed, but for some fucked up reason you think it’s the end of the world to depend on someone else partially when it comes to your happiness. Which can be a smart thing, it’s important to be your own person and be independent, but sometimes we need some help from others. From people that love us and we love them back. It’s not a crime, Y/N.”
“No, but it’s gonna end up with me being heartbroken.”
“You already are,” she ruthlessly replies, bringing your attention to what you’ve been trying to ignore all this time. “Hate to break it to you, but this is what that feels like. So why not just go with it, you already felt the pain, now you could go for the good parts as well.”
“I don’t know if I can do it, Tish,” you breathe out, resting your head against the back of the couch. “Even if I did it, I know I would mess it up and hurt him or maybe he’ll do something stupid and hurt me and I don’t think I can handle that.”
“So what? It’s part of the deal. And besides, you’re already hurting each other, so you better get your shit together,” she scoffs, poking your side playfully.
It’s part of the deal. Are you ready to make a new deal? One that you’ve been avoiding your whole life? Are you ready to cut yourself open for someone else and just hope for the best?
Probably not. And probably you’ll never be. But your tactics didn’t succeed so far, you still ended up in pain so why not give it a chance? Even if it’s gonna be the hardest thing you’ve ever done?
“Do you think he hates me now?” you ask quietly, peeking at her scared of her answer.
“He is a bit mad at you for shutting him out, but he could never hate you. That man loves you so much, it’s almost disgusting,” she admits, making you chuckle. “Just… be honest with him and talk to him. You need it. You both need it.”
Harry’s fingers strum against the chords again, trying to get the tune right, but he fails again, a frustrated growl leaving his lips as he lets his head fall forwards. He’s been trying to finish the song for hours, but it still hasn’t come together the way he imagined and his patience is running short.
It’s been hard for him to focus on writing, with you on his mind all the time, everything seems like a hard task. He has written plenty of songs since the night at the party, but he could never use them for his job. One, because they are so fucking sad and depressive and they asked for upbeat hits from him, and two, because they are all so personal, he could never give them to someone else. He can’t let anyone else sing the lines he wrote to you, but you’ll probably never hear them.
Giving up on finishing the song today, he puts the guitar aside and calls it a day. Walking into the kitchen he opens the fridge and realizes that it’s completely empty aside from a bottle of ketchup and a single banana. He’s been such a mess lately, he forgot to go grocery shopping yesterday. Huffing to himself he grabs the banana and reaches for his phone to order something right when his doorbell rings. He is not expecting anyone, but Mitch has been popping in every few days to check in on him since everything that went down with you, so Harry is convinced it’s him again.
“Great timing, do you want Italian or Chinese?” he asks, walking up to the door, but as he swings it open he freezes when he sees you standing on the doormat. “Y/N…” he breathes out as if he was seeing a ghost.
“Hi! I-I hope I’m not bothering you o-or anything…” you ramble nervously.
“No! No, come on in!” He snaps out of his trance and steps aside, letting you walk inside. A feeling of nostalgia hits you right away as you think back at the last time you were here. Just a few days before the party, when everything was different.
“I’m sorry I came without asking, I just… I would say I was nearby, but that’s not true,” you chuckle anxiously as the two of you walk into the living room. You notice that his place is a little messier than usually, but it’s not nearly as bad as yours was before you did a deep cleaning yesterday after Leticia’s comments on it.
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. What… What brought you here?”
“I, uhh… I’ve been thinking. A lot. And I have a few things I need to tell you.”
For a moment Harry’s stomach drops, because he thinks you came here to tell him off one more time for breaking your deal, for everything that happened at the party. He is already bracing himself to just let you lash out on him, but it never comes. And when you speak up again, he nearly faints.
“I love you.”
It’s a strong start, definitely a surprising one. Harry’s lips part and his eyes widen, his look almost comical, but you’re not laughing, not now. You have a lot to tell him and you can only hope he won’t throw you out after everything is said.
“I love you and I’m sorry it took me so long to stop ignoring it, but I promise you I’m done with that. And I’m sorry for everything I said to you that night, I was… mad and confused and I didn’t know how to deal with everything at once. I was delusional and ignorant and… a fool for thinking that I could just choose to never have feelings, especially for you,” you add with a tiny, nervous chuckle. “You were right. About everything. That I can’t live without ever putting myself out there and risking it. And I think deep down I knew that, but I was so afraid of getting hurt that I made myself believe I’m good on my own, but I’m not. Not entirely, to be precise. Because sometimes it is worth risking it and… and I realized that you are the person for me who is worth this risk.”
The tears are already blurring your vision, for the millionth time these past weeks, but it feels right now. Opening up to Harry and telling him all of this is hard, but with every spoken word you feel lighter and more relieved.
“I’m sorry if I made you think that I don��t love you, because I do. I really do. You are my best friend and these past weeks have been hell for me without you. I was so keen on avoiding a heart break that I ended up breaking my own heart,” you chuckle bitterly, the first tear running down your cheek.
Harry reaches out and wipes it away with his thumb and you involuntarily melt into his touch. You’ve been starved for it and now it feels like home. When you look up and your eyes meet his, you see that they are red too and it just makes you want to cry even more.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just thought that I was doing the right thing, but I was so far from that. So I’m really sorry and I understand if you don’t want to see me again for the way I acted. I was… a horrible friend and… an even worse girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?” he asks quietly.
“Yeah. Because you were right, we were more than just the deal and… if you choose not to throw me out after this, I would… I would love to give it a try with you. I want to be the girlfriend you deserve and though I’m sure I’ll mess it up a lot of times, I promise I’ll try my best, becau—“
He makes your rambling stop in the best way possible, lips smashing against yours as he cups your tear-soaked cheeks in his warm palms, pulling you close to him, your arms curling around his waist immediately.
Harry has kissed you several times before, but none of them compares to this. It’s messy and salty from both your tears, but you wouldn’t change a thing about it, the way his lips move against yours, tongues meeting, devouring each other, making up for the lost time and full of promises for the future. You hold onto his shirt at his back for dear life as he just keeps kissing you over and over again until you both run out of breath.
“So, does this mean you’re not throwing me out?” you joke, breaking the silence once you’ve pulled back.
“Fuck no,” he laughs, pecking your lips a few more times before his lips meet your forehead. “You are not leaving this place, ever. You’re trapped,” he adds to the joke and you break out in a relieved laughter.
“Wait, so I’m stuck with you now?” you whine playfully, but all you get is another kiss on the lips, hard and demanding.
“Yeah, forever, baby. You won’t get rid of me now, not after the speech you just gave me,” he smirks down at you, his arms coming to curl around your shoulders as he keeps you pressed against him tightly. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you reply, your heart soaring as you hear those words again from him, this time, not even trying to dodge them in any way. In fact, you just want to hear him say it every minute over and over again for the rest of your life. “And I’m happy to be stuck with you,” you add with a shy smile as his grin widens at your words.
“Yeah? So we have a new deal then?” he teases, kissing the corner of your mouth.
“Absolutely.”
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!
#harry#styles#harry styles#harry styles smut#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles oneshot#harry styles one shot#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry styles x you#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles au#harry styles imagine
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A Misunderstanding
PAIRING: Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader
GENRE: Angst | Hurt/Comfort | Reverse Comfort
WARNINGS: a lot of crying from both you and kuroo | cursing | mentions of sex | cheating (kind of? youll know when reading) | angst | mentions of drinking/being drunk | nothing is suggestive!! oh ya yall are married btw
WORD COUNT: 3k
A/N: ok ik this is long but this idea came from literally nowhere but i decided to write it thank you @combat-wombatus for helping me you helped put ideas in my brain<333 now i wasnt originally going for a happy ending but im really bad at angst so enjoy the shitty ending :)
“Please, Y/n, you know I didn't mean it,” he pleaded, his large hands desperately grabbing at your form while you push him away, your breaking sobs making his heart shatter. “Please, baby, don’t leave me,” he begs, falling on his knees in front of your trembling body, not being able to tear his eyes off of your heartbroken ones. He needed you to stay. He needed to show you that he isn’t that guy and that he would do anything for you. It was a one time thing. He wasn’t even sober. It wasn’t him. It was the alcohol. He wasn’t thinking straight. Please forgive him, please, please, please.
But you couldn’t. No matter how hard or how much you loved him and wanted to, the pain that ripped at your heart every time you looked at him was too much to bear. So you didn’t. You turn your blurry, glassy eyes away from him as he grabs your hand and forces it into his; your lips quivering and knees shaking. You couldn’t keep the betrayal and agony inside, whining and weeping at him, your knees giving out before your legs slam against the floor, your head near the carpet as you try and keep your affliction at bay.
“Y/n, please,” he whines, tears streaming down his pale cheeks; his admission of his unfaithfulness drained the color from his face. “Please forgive me, I need you, I love you so much.”
“W-” you sniffle, not knowing what to say. You knew you didn’t have to say anything at all, that you didn’t owe him any words, but you just...you just needed to know. “Why,” your voice quivered and cracked, your throat sore, “why did you,” you take a long breath, grabbing your chest to try and stop the heartache, the sudden cramp that formed where it used to be filled with warmth and love, “do this to me? With her?” You look up at him once with wide, searchful eyes as you ponder the reasons and look for the answers in his empty pupils.
“I wasn’t thinking straight, baby, I didn’t know what I was doing, please,” his voice stammers, trying to get you to understand that he really didn’t know what he was doing. “I would never do this to you, I-” “But you did.” Your tone is no longer sad and confused, but angry and fed up. His head backing up quickly, not expecting the response. “You made a promise, Tetsurou, remember?” You glare at him with menacing eyes as you hold up the very finger he kissed and placed the ring on on your wedding day. The beautiful diamond ring that had his initials carved in the interior and little gorgeous jewels that made the walls sparkle once hit with the hot sun was no more; the dark, gloomy piece of rock and metal meaning nothing but lies and mistrust.
“No, Y/n, please. Don’t do this to me,” he adjures guiltily.
“Don’t do this to you?” Your voice laced with deadly venom, standing and backing up, wiping your mouth with your hand in annoyance, placing it on your hip. “You did this to me! You did this to us! You went out! You got drunk! You fucked someone else! And not even a random girl! No! You just had to fuck your ex!” Your voice cracked again before you inhaled sharply and covered up your struggle.
“Y/n, I didn’t know what I was doing!”
“And that’s an excuse?? What, so now you can go fuck whoever you want and say ‘I didn’t know what I was doing!’” you mimic, “so you can get away with it every time?”
He didn’t answer. He looked at the ground, understanding exactly where you came from.
“Hm? Are you gonna answer me, or sit there like a coward?”
He could tell fully well you were just saying this because you were hurt. You didn’t mean any of it. You loved him. No matter what, you will always love him. Trusting him was out of the box for a while, maybe forever. But he can’t lose you. He knew you were soulmates- he knew you were made for each other. There was a reason you guys made it this far and only had big problems now. He needed to find that reason and use it for himself to win you back. He needed you back.
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, your dramatic hand gestures coming to a halt at his words, your figure coming to a stand still as you wait for him to finish. “You don't deserve this. You don’t deserve me. Please know that it was a mistake and that I’ll never do it again ever, ever, ever,” he repeats, wanting it to sound as sincere as he means. “Just please give me a chance to make this up to you, please don’t leave me by myself without you,” he sobs out, putting his head in his hands.
You knew you shouldn’t feel bad for him. But god-fucking-dammit are you feeling bad for him. You knew you still loved him, you knew he still loved you- that much was obvious. You couldn’t see him for a while, no. Could you guys work it out? Maybe stitch the wound? Wait until the scar is barely visible anymore? Would that even work?
“Tetsurou,” a single, hot tear dripping down your face as you point to the ground. “I don’t know if I can ever trust you again.”
“I know, I know, just please give me a chance to help fix this!” He cries at your feet, his body bundled in a ball of self hatred and guilt. “I can do it, baby. I can help things go back to normal.”
“I don’t think they ever will be normal again.”
He whines, trying to negotiate with you as much as he can. “Let me fix us. Let me give you my everything again, let me show you that I’m all yours and no one else's, please,” he moans in anticipation for rejection, knowing the chances of you agreeing were next to zero.
The next few hours are silent. Him alone in the bedroom. Crouching on the floor as he ponders your possible answer. You work in the kitchen, making food to satisfy your appetite. He could hear your sniffles from the bedroom and picture you wiping your tears as you carry the pots on the stove. God, he was the biggest piece of shit ever known. What the fuck went through his mind when he was fucking his ex? He only remembers some of it, them waking up in bed together after, only wearing undergarments underneath the sheets and him holding her waist as if she were you. He thought they had ended on good terms, knowing that they were better as friends. He rushed out the door, not being able to stay in the same room without getting sick. He knew what he had to do.
He opens the door to the living room, a slight creak gaining your attention as you stir the sauce in the pan. Your eyes are puffy, your lip still trembling as you try to turn away from him. He only takes about two steps forward before he stops, trying to find the words he wants to say.
“Listen, I know you said you needed time, and I’m not rushing you at all whatsoever. I want to give you all the time in the world to think this over. If you need, I can go to Kou’s house and stay there for a while. He won’t mind. I just want to give you the space you deserve.”
You nod in response, your head still facing away before he whispers an “I love you” before he slips out of the apartment.
~.~.~.~
The next few days were tortue. Not being able to sleep in the same bed he would sleep in with you, not being able to watch the same tv shows, not being able to even be in his presence at least once a day like you used to melted a hole of despair inside you: eating away at your emptiness, taking away the numbness that you so desperately needed right now. The feeling came back- the one that you tried shutting out three hours ago. It crept up at you, flipping your stomach and weighing your lungs down to the floor, your throat sore and dry. Your eyes wet with a blurry wall as your tears build up once again, missing your cheeks as you crouch down looking at the floor, falling on the tile. The droplets containing your anguish splatter on the ground, your raggedy whimpers echoing throughout the vacant apartment, making it all the more obvious he wasn’t there.
Knock knock knock
Was that the door?
Your wide, unbelieving eyes turned to the wooden door frame; the knocks getting louder and faster. You quickly stand up and try to collect yourself, preparing to have a long talk with Tetsurou. You grab the handle, turning it- the door opening with a tiny creak.
Oh.
“Hi! Kuroo left his jacket at the party the other day, is he here?”
Oh, that bitch.
“No. He’s not.” You deadpan, not finding her cheery, happy expression amusing.
“Oh no! Uh, well, here, can you give this back to him for me?”
“Stop smiling at me like you aren’t part of the reason he’s gone.” You snark, glaring at her with sharp eyes as she backs up, confused.
“W-what?”
“You heard me. Don’t act fucking clueless.”
“Excuse me? Who are you to talk to m-”
“Oh, cut the shit,” you roll your eyes, “I know you slept with Tetsurou, you don’t need put on whatever the fuck this is,” you gesture at her.
“What the hell are you talking about? What are you, fucking crazy?” Your eyes narrow in confusion, your disgusted scowl lessening at her words.
“Right. You probably don’t remember because you were blacked out,” you add sarcastically. “He told me what you guys did. Now you know. So, I would love it if you would just leave.”
“What are you- Me and Kuroo didn’t do shit last night. I drank like two beers and was hanging out with another girl the entire time,” she explains, looking offended. Your face loosens into an expression she couldn’t read. “He blacked out early and passed out on the couch while I was busy talking with the other girl.”
“Huh?” You whisper, your disoriented thoughts not aligning to a proper conclusion.
“I didn’t go to bed until like,” she thought back, “I don’t know, three in the morning? There were people passed out on the floor so I decided to take the guest bedroom with her. I was still awake when Kuroo came into the room, I’m guessing because he thought it was yours, based off of how he kept mumbling your name and shit,” she exhales, “he grabbed onto me once he got in and just clung.” You glower at her, huffing. She sees this, sighing before continuing, “Calm down, remember nothing happened. Remember that girl? She ended falling off the bed because I was scooting away from his clingy ass.” You look at her blankly, trying to fit the pieces together. “She ended up leaving the party completely,” she mumbled in embarrassment before you speak up.
“Then why did he tell me you guys had sex?” You mutter quietly, although assuming she heard since her head backed up while she quickly scoffs.
“I swear to God, that man. Listen.” You look up into her eyes- her genuine eyes. “Me and Kuroo didn’t do a single thing. I didn’t do anything to him and he didn’t do anything to me. I’ll have a conversation with him later because he is an absolute dumbass,” she breathed.
What the fuck?? You were just supposed to believe her?
“How am I supposed to believe that?”
“Me and him ended a long time ago. I don’t like him like that and I haven’t for a while. And seeing he was bragging about you the entire time at the party, he’s over me, too. Besides, I’m not even into guys that much anymore anyways,” she grinned and winked at you. The shock and realization hit you like a truck. She wasn’t even- oh my God. She chuckled at your expression; you ran away from her to the counter to get your phone, quickly unlocking it and tapping on Tetsurou’s contact.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mumble over and over. To tap the call button, listening to it ring as you bring your phone up to your ear, hearing him pick up the phone almost immediately after.
“Y/n? Are you okay?” He sounded worried. It’s only been about a week, he had hoped that you weren’t going to leave him.
“Get over here, right now, Tetsurou.” Your voice made it seem like it was urgent, so he quickly picked up his jacket from the couch, and you could hear the jingling of his keys as he grabbed them and opened the door, almost slamming it shut once he left.
~.~.~.~
“Y/n?” He asked at the open front door, wondering why it wasn’t closed. “Y/n, you have to be careful and close the door, we have them for a reason, you know,” he said as he walked in. Even after being at the line of a break-up, he still cares for your well-being. He didn’t even do anything wrong and he was still caring for you as a loved one should. He always did everything to make you feel comfortable and safe, so once he knew that he had slept with his ex he was completely devastated to his core. He didn’t want to do this to you, but you had the right to know.
“Tetsu.” You called. Already back to nicknames? This is good, right?
“Yes? Y/n?” He was scared, to say the least, feeling awkward and not knowing what to do. He walked scarcely towards your figure sitting on the couch, not caring to drop his keys and jacket on the counter. He had a feeling this might go wrong.
“We need to talk.” Shit. This is exactly what he didn’t want to hear. Hearing those words he couldn’t help but think that you were going to make him pack his stuff and go. “So, I talked with your ex.” You speak slowly, not wanting your words to come out wrong. You don’t want him to take any of this in a bad way at all. Yet his eyes widen drastically, his heartbeat racing and his nerves pricking him. “You are just one big dummy, aren’t you?”
What? What are you talking about?
“What?”
“You didn’t sleep with her. She told me everything that happened that night. She’s not even into guys anymore. Tetsu-”
This couldn’t be happening. Not only did he accuse himself of cheating, he accused himself of cheating with his ex, and that he cheated with his ex at a party, while you two are married. And then it turns out it wasn’t true? What the hell was wrong with him? He jeopardized your entire relationship because he was too drunk to know what was going on.
“Wait, what?” He yells, angrily sitting down on the couch, “so you’re telling me-” you nodded and hummed an ‘mhm’ in response. His hands find their way to his hair, pulling at the roots and scratching his scalp, his low grunts of pain and fury seeping out of his throat as he frustratingly comprehends what he just did.
You rush over to him, grabbing his wrists and pushing them down to his lap as fast as you can, making his eyes find their way to your blown out pupils. You can see the hot tears prickle down his cheek as he frowns at you, completely and utterly defeated.
“Tetsu, I don’t want you to hurt yourself, it’s okay,” you reassure, giving him a happy smile. He wanted to smile back, but he couldn’t control the broken sob that escaped him. “Hey, hey,” you try to grab his attention as he pulls his head down, crying. “It’s okay, baby, it’ll be okay.” You wrap your arms around his head, protecting him as you softly coo and ‘shh’ him quietly in his ear. ‘I’m sorry’ kept coming out of his mouth as he clinged to you, not being able to help his want to be closer to you. The realization that he just almost broke your heart completely and he had worried about divorce for this shit made him want to just rip his scalp out. He was so stupid. So, so so, stupid. “Tetsu, look at me, please. Look at me,” you whisper, bringing your hand to his chin, dragging it up so you could catch sight of his hazel irises. His eyes red and puffy, his cheeks wet and his eyes droopy, you couldn’t do anything but frown at the sight. He hated himself right now, not wanting to face the embarrassment and the humiliation of the situation.
“You don’t deserve me, I’m so sorry,” he whimpered in your arms, gripping them tighter and tighter for comfort- you knowing that he needed it right now. You had already pulled him into your chest, feeling his wet tears soak your shirt, your hands rubbing his back and your fingers gently grazing his throbbing scalp.
“It’s okay, I forgive you, Tetsu, you did the right thing by telling me you did it instead of hiding it from me, and then it turns out you didn’t do it at all.” Your cheeks start to feel hot, and you don’t even realize your sniffles until you could feel a dam break at your water line. You couldn’t stop them, the tears of relief. You didn’t want to stop them. You were glad that they were her, glad that they were for him, glad they were because you knew the truth, glad because you knew you two would be okay.
You looked back at your ring, watching it bloom like a flower in the spring, the meaning coming back to your marriage. It wasn’t just metal and rock anymore, it was a gorgeous promise.
“I love you, Tetsurou. Don’t forget that. You’re staying with me, alright?” you whisper into his hairline.
“Thank you,” he cries.
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your voice
angsty vibe, requested by @hollandlover19 than you for th rq and hop this doesn't disappoint too much :)))
summary: tom says something so stupid and has to deal with the consquences
warnings: a bit angsty, but ends in fluff! argumnts and raising voices, I guess could be associated with panic attacks tho not written with that intention
//////////////////////////////////
“Oh, Y/n er sorry.” Harrisons morning dulcet tones were what you were awoken to with a groan.
Everything was achy, and your head was pounding, making you grumble in discontent as you shifted uncomfortably on the technically too-small-to-sleep-on sofa.
This was not the morning you’d foreseen even 12 hours ago.
Lockdown had been difficult for everyone, even removing the tragic health crisis. Being locked in with your boyfriend and his brothers and friends was, for the most part, amazing. Lots of laughs, lots of beers and lots of quality time that you usually didn’t get. But it was also intense.
Without a doubt, since you first got together, this was the longest time you’d ever had with Tom. And it had been brilliant, your relationship getting so much closer and just learning the subtlest intricacies about the other. In fact, when lockdown had been announced, you’d never lived together (the most a week-long holiday).
Though it was also like a pressure cooker, Toms rented house. When one of you were in an understandable but stubborn lousy mood, it affected the whole house.
Yesterday night had been the perfect storm. The weather was unbelievably scorching; your work had announced that they had to let some staff go because of the financial implications of the pandemic; a ‘mole’ had released personal details of your relationship.
And it was like a pot on the stove; everything went from controllable to violently boiling over in a matter of minutes.
Honestly, you didn’t even know why you had started arguing - it was that pathetic. And yet you’d both said pretty horrible stuff - though it was Tom who had crossed the line. Frankly, the way he’d spoken to you was almost unforgivable.
You’d both known instantly too, all his anger at you had immediately evaporated when he’d realised what he had said. It took no time for him to become a grovelling apologetic mess, however even that- it was already too late.
It might sound feeble, but honestly, you’d run and locked yourself in the downstairs loo. You’d cried on the inside- whilst from the other side of the door, he had been begging and pleading with you.
After an hour though, Tom finally gave up - hence why you’d had a pretty uncomfortable night on the sofa.
This brings it back to Harrison, the early riser of the house, barrelling into the living room after his morning run. All bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, except also slightly terrified looking as he stood awkwardly in the doorway.
“I’m up now” You sighed, dragging yourself into a sitting position on the sofa whilst massaging your crooked neck.
“You er…. you fell asleep watching the TV?” Rolling your eyes, you sighed at the blonde, even if his poor acting was a little entertaining.
“Are we both pretending that you don’t know what went down last night?” Of course, Harrison knew. The walls were thin, you’d been screaming and he was Tom’s best friend. No doubt, Tom had immediately gone to him for help and advice last night.
Harrison held his hands up in response, caught in the act, and clicked his tongue. “What he said was bad. You shouldn’t be the one ending up with the sore back.” He wasn’t wrong.
“And yet here I am…” With a sigh you smiled which he returned with a sickeningly empathetic one “Anyway, don’t let my sad self get in the way, did you come in here for anything?”
Now, because Harrison was mentally a five year old, that’s how you ended up sat crossed-legged on the floor, clutching a wii remote and angrily shouting at yoshi on the mariokart screen. The whole household was competitive as hell and you were no exception - so some rouge elbows were flying when he viciously knocked you off the track.
Slowly Harry and Tuwaine filtered in and picked up remotes too, so the quiet morning was very quickly switched into a tense atmosphere of yelps and shouts. None more so than Tuwaine, who was possibly the worst looser you had ever met.
Really, you knew all the boys were only doing this as there way of showing you they were with you. That they also thought Tom was a massive raging dickhead. And you appreciated it more than they would ever know. Locked down in Toms house, very much not mutual ground, having three stupid boys behind you meant everything.
Just as you got on to the 18th and final race of the house’s mario grand prix, another voice cut across the tense silence as you waited for the coutdown to turn into ‘go’. Naturally, you flipped round to see Tom, looking as though he literally just rolled out of bed with puffy eyes and messy hair and no top. The sight made your heart flutter, to the point you had to consciously check yourself - refusing to smile softly at him like you usually would, instead narrowing your eyebrows and looking back at the TV.
Tom had so desperately hoped that when he came down this morning, everything would be better. That all it’d take would be a quiet conversation for the two of you to make up - for him to have you in his arms again. Primarily as he had heard your excited laugh echoing through the halls in reactions to Tuwaines yelps of protests - it made him hopeful. Waking up to a cold and empty bed was almost soul-crushing this morning. He did not want it to ever happen again.
Which is why his heart sank so much when all you gave him was a scolding look, before turning your attention to the TV. Admittedly, he was naive to think that what he’d done last night would be an easy fix - he knew it too. So with dropping shoulders, Tom silently took a seat on the sofa, watching from afar. You spent the rest of the race more absent, not joining in with the Harrison or Harrys trash-talking, acutely aware of Tom’s eyes burning the back of your head.
Then came Harry’s celebrations as the overall winner (only just) and when Harrison suggested another game Tom piped up again.
“Give me a turn Harry.”
The three boys kneeling next to you all stiffened, looking immediately to you for what seemed like consent - as if they were engaging with the enemy. (At least it was good to know everyone was on your side).
“I’m gonna go prepare for my meeting anyway.” You spoke quietly, already placing the remote on the floor and standing up.
“Y/n I don’t mind swappin-“
“No. Thanks, H but no.” You weren’t being selfless and giving Tom a turn. You were running away from seeing him.
And Harrison was still really angry at Tom. He’d been so selfish and insensitive and had hurt you- someone who Haz also cared a lot about too. Yes Tom was his bestmate, that he’d grown up with and known for years - but Haz really liked you too, in fact all the boys did. So they were almost as pissed with Tom as you were.
So while you threw the cushion you were sat on back on the floor, Harrison shot Tom the filthiest look and practically shooed him away.
“come on Y/n … just one more? Then you can do your boring work.” You were about to refuse when Haz tilted his head toward the door, only then noticing that Tom had slipped out the room. Now that he was gone ,yes, just one more wouldn’t hurt. The meeting prep wasn’t time pressured; it was an excuse for an escape.
Tuwaine whooped a little when you nodded, planting back down and ready for the first race. Yet apart from that, the room was still a little awkward, you being the first to break the silence.
“Actually Haz, would you mind giving me a lift today?”
“What to the shops?
“Um no not quite.” Tuwaine laughed in his usual innocent and infectious style before asking more.
“Seriously? You know we’re locked down? Boris won’t be happy if you going mad and leaving the house.”
“Just to Y/f/n’s. She lives on her own so it’s legal.”
“She lives just down the road right? Can’t you walk?” Harry was confused, making him look away from the screen, ultimately leading to his ‘diddykong’ falling off the track.
“I’ll have my bags. I um… I think I’m going to stay with her till lockdown eases more.”
As soon as you said that, Harry pressed pause on the race, all three boys looking at you mouth-opened.
“For real?”
“Yeh I um… think me and Tom need some time apart and being locked in isn’t helping.”
“I’m not saying to forgive and forget what he said… but he is really sorry.”
“The twats literally kicking himself.” Tuwaine added, making you smile a little for calling Tom that.
“I know just… I need some space and-“
“Are you breaking up?” Harry almost announced, cutting you off. He would miss you too.
“No! Nono I … well I don’t know. I just- we both need this.”
The boys all nodded, looking at the floor for a moment before Harrison’s blue eyes were back on you.
“Course I’ll drive, but… but I’ll miss you.”
/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
You’d left merely an hour later, whilst Tom was holed up in the garden doing what looked like an almost unbearable work out. It meant he was also out your hair and you could throw all your stuff into two suitcases without him being any the wiser. It was probably pretty cowardly to leave without speaking to him, but you couldn’t. It would hurt too much and you didn’t want to break down in front of him. No doubt as soon as you had got to Y/f/n you did - into a blubbering mess of tears - but Tom hadn’t seen so it was okay.
Speaking of. Tom.
Tom was not in a good way at all. He’d been trying really hard to curb his’ short fuse’ lately- all of which had been well and truly blown in the past 4 hours. After finally being realised from meetings, which he’d not been able to concentrate on anyway, Tom had mentally prepared himself for a lot of grovelling. Once he’d vaguely hunted the house and not found you there, he naturally asked Harry and Tuwaine (both of whom were in the living room) if they’d seen you around.
It was a typical question, the answer he was expecting was that you’d just gone on your daily walk. And yet the response he got was… well a lot more confusing. Harry’s eyes widened whilst T did his awkward-uncomfortable chuckle, the two locked in an intense bout of eye contact. It was as though they were arguing with each, but through the powers of telekinesis... and it put Tom on edge. He was already stressed because you were so angry with him, so not getting a clear answer out of his brother and best mate - lets just say it tested his patience.
“You two need to tell me what the hell is going on right now.”
The two boys both looked panicked to speak to him, which was the opposite of the usual situation. They were some of the ONLY people in his life that would just say it how it is, no sugar coating. Like if he was away and being ‘famous’ was getting to his head; or if he wore the wrong pair of jeans. Even yesterday evenings events, they’d both called him out on what he’d said to you.
So why the silence?
Eventually, it was Harry who spoke up, but in doing so, practically just waved all responsibility on to another innocent party.
“Ask Haz.”
And then Tom knew. He knew this was bad. Immediately his heart was pumping at an alarmingly fast rate, taking the stairs two at a time and not bothering to knock before bursting the door open.
“Where’s Y/n?”
Harrison was reclined back on his haphazardly made bed, laptop balanced on his lap as he looked up with a sigh. He’d known this conversation was coming, but it didn’t make it any less easy. With a sigh, Haz closed the lid of his MacBook and sat up on the bed.
“Tom just-“
“Where. Is. She.”
“She’s gone to Y/f/n’s.”
“Oh… okay.” Suddenly Tom’s voice was muted, thinking he might’ve blown his top at nothing. This wasn’t weird - Y/f/n was in your support bubble and you went to hers often.
Tom was grossly underestimating the situation - and Harrison heard didn’t fancy stringing him along though.
“No like gone. She um… she took all her stuff. I think she’s going to stay there till-“
Tom was already out his room at that point, slamming the door as he did so. Making a beeline for his own room, Tom then frantically started to pull out the draws and rummage around the shelves, confirming what he already knew. Your clothes were gone, your toothbrush and toiletries were gone, you were gone.
It’s important to note Tom didn’t really cry all that much. Or if he did - it was more inconsequential, at a sad movie or one of the rescue dog stories from battersea. Actually, when it came down to it, he didn’t really cry.
Now though, it was impossible to ignore the burning of his eyes, as he sank down onto the bed that now felt twice the size. With ragged breath, he repeatedly fisted his eyes, not actually letting the tears fall - but it was impossible to not acknowledge their presence. Harrison stood wordlessly at the door frame, knowing it best not to interrupt - whilst at the same time knowing Tom shouldn’t be left alone. There was a delicate balance between the two, which he was walking on a knife-edge on right now.
After a short while, Tom looked up with red eyes and nodded at Harrison, effectively granting him entrance. With a sigh once again, Haz moved and sat next to Tom on the bed, clasping his hands together nervously.
“She said you both just needed a break from each other. Think lockdown and everything was just a bit too intense.” Haz had tried to explain, yet it seemed Tom had only managed to lock onto one of the first words.
“A break? Or breaking up?”
“I uhm… she didn’t explicitly say ending things. But I just… I don’t know to be honest mate.”
“You see the way she looked at me this morning? Like she hated me. Wouldn’t even acknowledge that I was there.”
“I don’t know what to say… she needs time and space I think.” Tom was silent for a beat, shaking his head as he cradled his forehead.
“I hate the fact you and my girlfriend are on better terms than I am.” Anddd his voice was back to scathing.
“I’m not on anyones side. But your both my friends and she… she needed some time.”
With that, Harrison made a quick exit out, getting Harry to take over the Tom supervision.
Ever since the atmosphere in the house had been tense. To say Tom was highly strung was an understatement, particularly towards Harrison. Deep down he was thankful Haz was looking out for Y/n: he was glad that Haz was checking she was okay. It’s not like Tom could, because Y/n was refusing to answer his calls, texts, whatsapps, even the slip of paper he’d slipped under Y/f/n’s door in the middle of an especially dark night.
So it was good to know Y/n was okay, but the fact she was going on socially distanced walks with the rest of his housemates was rubbing salt in the wound.
After a week and a half of complete radio silence on your end Tom had utterly worn down. He didn’t have the emotional capacity to be angry anymore, he was just tired. Tired of missing you with every breath, tired of the ten-tonne weight of guilt pressing on his chest, fucking exhausted with being angry at Haz and Harry and Tuwaine.
The best thing in his life and one of the very limited opportunities was quality time with the people he loved more than anything else. He had ruined it all.
And it was the small things. It was waking up to your soft, whispered voice in the morning; it was your infectious giggle when he surprised you with a hug from behind and gentle kisses to your neck; it was your quiet singing in the shower. Especially when he knew Haz, Harry and Tuwaine were all still seeing you and laughing with you. It hurt like hell.
Which is how he ended up hesitantly knocking on Harrison’s bedroom door at half eleven at night, with his tail between his legs. Having been so uber-healthy all lockdown, Haz was already in bed following his sleep cycle, though for Tom right now- he would be awake.
“I’m um… I’m sorry I’ve been a knob. There’s no excuse of anything I’ve just… I’ve been a knob.”
“You’re not wrong.” Harrison nodded in agreement with a sly smile, motioning for Tom to come into the room, after which he perched on the edge of the bed.
“I just… I need to speak to her but I… I don’t want to push her if she’s still hurting and I…”
“You absolutely promise not to blow your fuse? Because she couldn’t handle that.” Tom’s eyes widened, thinking this would be a much harder pitch than how it seemed to be going.
“Yesyesyes i- I promise. I just, I feel broken you know? Even if all I get is the time to say sorry, I-I really need to.”
Harrison released a deep breath, nodding slowly before throwing the covers off himself. Tom watched all his movements with a curious gaze, silently sitting as Haz pulled on a hoodie, then socks too.
“Well? Let’s go.”
//////////////////
Now, what Tom had not in the slightest bit been prepared for was this to happen tonight. Really, he hadn’t even thought Harrison would agree to let him talk to you… and even if he had, Tom not in hell thought it’d be at 11:30 that evening.
His heart was thundering in his chest, trying to hurriedly script how on earth he was going to apologise meaningfully to you - as him and Haz walked the short distance to your friends house. Honestly the whole situation was peculiar to Tom - finding it hard to believe that if you weren’t to answer his texts you wouldn’t be open to an in person conversation.
What Tom didn’t know, was how you’d been texting Haz at a similar point of desperation. You weren’t happy and even given everything Tom had said and acted - you missed your boy. No matter how infuriating he could be when trapped 24/7 - you’d quickly learnt this was the only way you wanted to spend these weird times.
So yes, Tom’s best friend knew you were hardly sleeping either, but needed that little push to interact with you boyfriend. No doubt, you’d still be awake to answer the door.
Once he’d arrived at the apartment block and walked up the stairs to the right floor, it still took some prodding and pushing from Harrison to get Tom to knock on the door. Plainly, because he was shitting himself. Haz hadn’t given him enough pre warning, enough time to work it all out in his head. So it took another encouraging nod from Harrison for him to knock on the slightly rough-round-the-edges flat door.
Y/f/n was single and young, starting her career in Kingston - so the flat she could afford was modest at best. When it was just occupied by a single person, that was manageable - two was a push. You’d only been living with her for a week and a few days but it was enough to know this flat was not ideal for two people in lockdown. You were already stepping on each others toes. It also wasn’t technically legal to move households but Y/f/n had always been in your support bubble as a single household otherwise. And so there was also a layer of guilt to it all.
Naturally then, sharing a bed with someone who wasn’t Tom meant you just were not sleeping. Even if you had both gone to bed early (just to kill some hours in the day) you were still wide awake at quarter to twelve - when a timid knock echoed through the minuscule apartment. Curiosity peaked at who the hell would be calling now; you silently slipped out of bed, managing to not disturb Y/f/n, and closed the bedroom door.
Now you weren’t an idiot. Even though this was southwest london, hardly the capital for crime, Y/f/n lived in a dodgy building with some questionable characters. And it was midnight. Hence why you approached the situation cautiously, tiptoeing to the door and waiting with your ear pressed against the wood.
“I told you she wouldn’t answer!”
“She will! Might just be in the loo or something.”
“Haz this is stupid-“
The air in your chest froze when you immediately recognised the smooth tone of his voice. It was him… and you’d missed that so much. Already there were tears in your eyes and you couldn’t open the door just yet. So no, instead you slid down the doorframe before calling quietly out into the night.
“Tom?”
The bickering on the otherside of the door was silenced, but you heard a quite tap on the door... and could envision exactly what was going on. Tom, pressing both palms and his ear to the door, as Harrison took a few steps back - sensing his work was done.
“Y/n? You there?” He sounded desperate, you could hear the emotion dripping off his voice. It was only when you tried to reply did you realise your own voice was having a harder time speaking.
“Yeh its-its me.” It felt as though this heavyweight that had been pressing down on your chest was slowly lifting, making your voice all cracky and low.
In response, there was a short and sharp exhale. It sounded relieved before some fidgeting as you imagined him crouching down beside the door - mirroring your image.
“Fuck, it… it feels so good to hear your voice.”
“Yours too… I’ve-i’ve missed you.”
Tom snorted at that, a gentle bang allowing you to realise he’d just whacked his head on the back of the wood.
“You have no idea how this week felt.” He was wrong though, you did.
Yes, maybe without the insurmountable guilt that Tom was rightfully feeling, but it didn’t mean that the time apart wasn’t easy.
“I do. This hasn’t been a nice holiday for me you know?”
He sighed, knowing that yet again he’d said the wrong thing. This time though, he didn’t rebut instantly (which surprised you), instead his response was more measured and calculated.
“I am so sorry. And of course, I know because I was the one that hurt you too. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for that.” You nodded but given this conversation was happening through a door Tom didn’t see your gentle agreement - opting to fill the silence.
“I um… I’m not good at this whole um… speaking my feelings. But I’ve hated myself ever since I picked that fight with you. It was stupid and uh it-it was all my fault. I’m so so sorry for hurting you.”
“‘Why?” You tried to ask, except the words were stuck in your throat, making you have to clear it before asking again. “Why did you say it?”
“To get a rise out of you. It’s stupid and petty and fucking-fucking dumb. I said it not because I’ve ever thought it, I never ever have, but I knew it’d hurt you. I was preying on your insecurities because I was angry at the world and that was so unfair. “
“No shit.”
Silence reigned as you fiddled with your fingers - specifically with the promise ring he’d bought you a year ago.
“You-you think you could ever forgive me?”
“Thats the annoying part. I want to hate you because you literally stabbed me then twisted the knife but… but all I’ve done this week is miss you. Even when I saw Haz or Harry or Tuwaine. I just fucking missed you.”
“Can you open the door please love?”
Clumsily you scrubbed the tear tracks off your face, scrabbling to your feet so you could thrust open the doors. Because you might still be bloody pissed at him, but at the same time - you needed your Tom. Thrusting the door open, the first thing you registered was being pressed into Tom’s chest. His arms slinked around your waist and held him tight, which you reciprocated, squeezing tightly round his neck. Your senses were all being assaulted by one thing and one thing only. Tom.
He smelt like usual, except maybe the slightest bit stronger than usual - you figured he hadn’t showered in a day or two or bothered with cologne. The top of your forehead was pressed up against his chin, and as he readjusted his grip on you, you felt the scratchy feeling of his unshaven stubble. He kept whispering apologies against the top of your head, almost desperate and religiously.
Arching back, you brought both hands to cup his cheeks, looking into his glassy brown. eyes, which looked so lost and confused.
“I’m still angry.”
“Of course-“
“I’m still angry but I’m going to kiss you okay?”
Safe to say Tom didn’t require a verbal response, taking it upon himself to nudge his lips against yours, yet waiting for you to initiate the kiss. And that you did, everything else about this godforsaken week and a half. His index finger traced the angle of your jaw, whilst he held your lower back tight, pressing himself as close as physically possible to you. Needing you.
Eventually arching back, your thumb ran over his deep and sunken under-eyes, which added so much age to his face.
“You look tired Tommy.”
“Can’t sleep without you telling me goodnight.” That was another tradition you had had. Even when he was away, you’d even set an alarm for whatever bedtime was for the other across the world. Just so you could send a little message or voice not saying goodnight. Was it cringey? Yes. Did either of you care? No.
But since you’d been away all the evening wishes were absent from you. Which hurt Tom more than you may ever know.
“I know you’re still angry but will you please come home to me? I need you to be the last thing I hear at night and the first thing in the morning.”
would love to hear any feedback <333 (but think this is a bit of a shitter so im sorry!!!)
tagging: @lovehollandy12 @pandaxnienke @thegirlwiththeimpala @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @hollandlover19 @hunnybunimdun @crossyourpeter @thefernandasantana@hallecarey1
#tom holland x you#tom holland angst#tom holland x y/n#tomholland#tom holland x reader#tom holland fluff#harry holland
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Pretty Please
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader hears something surprising from her next door neighbor, and it throws her off. Category: Smut 18+ (masturbation, thigh riding, penetrative sex, oral sex-male and female receiving, semi-rough sex, dom!Spencer) Word Count: 6.9k Warnings: Nothing except the smut listed above and strong language. As always, if there’s anything I missed, let me know what I should include in the warnings! I want to be as mindful as I can about what I post. Thank you!
PART 2 / PART 3 / PART 4 / EPILOGUE
***
There's no way she heard that right.
In fact, she was pretty sure she'd made it up. She was tired, delirious, and she'd only imagined hearing what she heard.
Right?
Just to be sure, Y/N sat up in bed, put her ear against the wall just above the headboard, and listened, concentrating as hard as she could to confirm or deny.
And sure enough, the next thing she heard was, "Fuck, yes!"
It was muffled, definitely not as loud as it could have been, but if things continued the way she thought they would, it was going to get louder. Unless, of course, her neighbor was mindful, knowing that someone could probably hear what was going on. Though, for some reason Y/N doubted that.
Just to be extra sure what was happening, she stayed glued to the wall, listening carefully.
There was some muffled movement, but it could have been just about anything. Nonetheless, her heart was beating so fast, and it beat even faster when she heard what came next.
A loud female moan, unmistakable and utterly pornographic, made Y/N close her eyes immediately, her heart practically jumping out of her chest. Her first thought was Okay, he's watching porn. Everyone does that. Not without headphones, but it's completely normal and I should stop eavesdropping and go about my own life because this is an invasion of privacy.
Her second thought was ...Oh.
Because she was dead wrong.
The next thing that sounded through the walls was, "Yes, Spencer, just like that!"
Y/N's eyes shot open and she almost had a heart attack.
Her next thought was Good for him...
She and her neighbor hadn't really gotten to know each other that well. All she knew was that he had a job that kept him away from home quite a bit, either from travel or just late nights. He was shy and rarely talked to her when they met in the halls or in the parking garage, or even in the laundry room. Which is why it was so surprising to Y/N that he was having sex—and decent sex at that, from what she could hear—right next door.
Not that it would have been impossible for him to get it, of course. He was hot as hell, and it shouldn't have surprised Y/N as much as it did that she was hearing what she was hearing. It had just never happened before.
She was about to let it be, glad that her neighbor seemed to be having some fun, and it truly wasn't any of her business what he decided to do in his spare time. Though, the next thing she heard sent her into a tailspin.
"You like that, baby? You like when I hold you down and fuck you?"
Y/N almost hit her head against the wall. Instinctually her legs crossed, as if it would prevent her from being turned on. Which was stupid, considering every nerve in her body was on fire hearing those words come from Spencer Reid's mouth.
No fucking way, Y/N thought, slowly shifting her position on the bed.
It was a stupid idea. Probably one of the dumbest things she's ever done. But she closed her eyes, and as the woman's moans became louder through the walls, every slap of skin on skin getting louder with them, Y/N's right hand drifted under the waistband of her panties and got to work.
She couldn't help imagining what was going on. And it was rare that she could get off on just imagination alone, but this time she had the helpful addition of sound to aid her. Every time the woman moaned Spencer's name, she moved her fingers faster, alternating between rubbing her clit and completely fingering herself. And sometimes Y/N would make inevitable tiny whimpers of her own, careful not to give herself away.
She was almost to her climax when she heard it. The thing that pushed her over the edge.
"Fuck, you take it so well, pretty girl."
That one sentence, added to the impending orgasm Y/N was experiencing and the fact that she was picturing Spencer's face so clearly in her head, caused her to let out a loud moan and throw her head back against the wall with a loud thud.
So many feelings happened at once. Pain, because fuck, hitting her head on the wall without expecting it hurt like hell. Pleasure immediately after, because despite everything, her fingers stayed working, instinctively nursing herself through her orgasm. And finally embarrassment, because she definitely shouldn't have been eavesdropping on her neighbor's sexual encounters and she's positive they'd heard her intrusion.
All noises ceased for a total of two seconds before Y/N came down from her high and the sex next door resumed like nothing had happened.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck, no, Y/N thought as she scrambled out of bed and ran to the bathroom. Her head still hurt from hitting it against the wall, but that was the least of her concerns. More than anything she wanted to crawl in a hole and never return. And sure, maybe there was a small chance Spencer and his.. friend hadn't heard you, but it was practically impossible. There was no way they hadn't heard it.
Y/N peed and washed her hands, tapping her foot nervously against the cool tile the whole time. Eventually she calmed her breathing and decided that she'd just have to live with it. I mean, it's not like I'm friends with him anyway, she thought. I barely see him enough as it is, and I can ignore him like there's no tomorrow and nothing will change. Right?
And so she washed her face and got ready for bed, trying desperately not to think about how badly she'd embarrassed herself.
And then as she curled under the covers (with earbuds in just in case) she thought, Maybe I'll make him some muffins tomorrow and say I'm sorry.
The last thing she saw before she closed her eyes was Spencer's face.
***
"What's wrong? Can't take it?"
She practically burned with pleasure, every inch of her body overly sensitive and completely fucked out. But she'd let him have whatever he wanted.
She cried. She tried to tell him that yes, she could take it. But tears and strangled moans were all she could manage as he continued to fuck her into the mattress.
"You gonna cum?" He asked, like she could form words.
She cried out again in answer.
He leaned forward, wiping tears from her face, and whispered, "Go ahead, pretty girl."
That was the last thing Y/N heard before she woke up, eyes shooting open and hands clutching the sheets so tightly her fingers ached. She let them go and tried to wiggle them back to life, squeezing her eyes shut and taking a deep breath.
"Oh, dear Lord," she muttered, stretching out and realizing that the past 10 hours of her life were going to haunt her for a long time.
I'm gonna have to move, aren't I, she thought sarcastically, sitting up slowly and rubbing her eyes. Though, right now it sounded like a good idea.
Y/N gathered some clothes and went to the shower, refusing to think about last night or the dream she'd woken up from. Instead she lasered all her attention to thoroughly washing her hair, body, and face. By the time the water was running cold, she stepped out, dried off and got dressed, brushing her teeth and then leaving the bathroom to turn on the coffee pot.
Before she could, there was a knock on the door.
Oh no, was her first thought, because naturally the first thing you do at any minor event after severely embarrassing yourself is panic. What if that's him? He's going to get mad at me for eavesdropping. The first thing I'm going to do when I see him is blush and panic. Fuck.
Y/N thought about ignoring it for a second. For all Spencer knew, she could still be sleeping. She could have fled the country immediately after giving herself away. She could have died from a heart attack, literally embarrassing herself to death. She could ha—
Knock knock knock.
"Shit," Y/N muttered to herself, adjusting her freshly-washed hair and praying she looked okay. If it really was Spencer at her door, she wanted to at least look like she was moving on with her life and not thinking about last night every waking second.
She ran to the door, took a deep breath and opened it, sure enough revealing Spencer Reid in her doorway, wearing a kind smile and holding a small something in his hand.
"Oh... Spencer, hi," Y/N said, pretending to be happy. Not that she wasn't ever happy to see him, but today of all days was most definitely not a good time. She only prayed he wouldn't get mad at her for eavesdropping.
"Hi, Y/N. Sorry for being here so early, but I, uh... thought you might need this."
He handed her what was in his hand, and it rattled, confusing her. She took it and flipped it over in her hands, studying the bottle.
"Advil?"
"Yeah. Seems like you hit your head on the wall pretty hard last night, I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
Her stomach dropped. "No."
"No... You're not okay, or no, you don't need it?"
Heat rushed to Y/N's cheeks and all she could manage was another, "No."
She only sounded slightly terrified.
But before Spencer could say anything else, Y/N looked up at him and almost started to cry. "I'm so so so sorry, Spencer, I didn't mean to hear, it just happened, and I couldn't help it, and I tried to be quiet, I really did, but it just slipped, and I feel really bad, I'm so sorry, I—"
"Whoa, whoa, Y/N, slow down. It's okay, really," he laughed. "I'm not upset or anything, I just... Truthfully I feel kind of bad for not thinking of anyone hearing. I didn't realize the walls were so thin, and had I known I probably would have... Gone about things differently. I didn't mean to embarrass you."
Y/N's heart raced, but she was even more shocked by the fact that he was apologizing. "Spencer, don't be sorry. I embarrassed myself, really. I shouldn't have been listening anyway— what you do in your apartment isn't any of my business, and I messed up."
He smiled and shuffled on his feet, trying to avoid looking at you but failing. In the end he shrugged and leaned against the doorframe. "Well, in any case, I really do hope your head doesn't hurt too bad. That was a loud thump."
Y/N laughed nervously, turning the bottle over in her hands while looking at the floor. "It doesn't hurt anymore. Feels better now that I've slept it off... Thank you, though. I... I appreciate it."
"You're welcome."
She looked up at him and almost started crying again, still completely embarrassed over the whole ordeal. In an attempt to not cry, she cleared her throat. "Um, I was just going put on some coffee if you... wanted to come in? I can make some eggs or something too, if you're hungry. Y'know, to say I'm sorry?"
Spencer looked like he was about to tell her not to be sorry again, but she gave him a look that said don't you dare, and he settled on nodding instead. "Sure, I'd like that."
***
"Wow. These are great."
Y/N smiled, watching Spencer eat a bite of the eggs she'd made him. "Thank you. It's a family recipe. Nothing too special, but my mom always made them for my brother and I before our first day of school every year."
He smiled. "That's nice. Really, they're great. Thank you."
"Yeah, no problem... Look, again, I really am so—"
"Y/N, stop. It's okay, really. It... happens. You don't have to be sorry."
She nodded before taking a sip of her coffee. Spencer ate some more of his eggs and the two of them sat in silence for a few minutes, before it got completely unbearable.
She didn't want to keep bringing it up, but something forced the words out of her mouth. "So, your... guest... Is she your girlfriend?"
It took Spencer a minute to realize what she said, but eventually he cleared his throat, some color forming on his cheeks. "Oh, uh... no. No, I'm single. She and I had just met at a bar downtown. I don't usually do that. Go to bars, I mean. Though I suppose I don't really have one night stands all that often, either, but my co-workers and I were out last night after a... pretty rough day at work, and... before I left we met at the bar and it just kind of went on from there."
"Oh... Well, I... I'm sorry work was rough. Seems like you... handled it, though. Got over it... I mean, like, you knew how to take your mind off of it, or make it better or whatever."
Y/N froze after she said it. Immediately after, she shook her head. "God, I'm sorry. That was dumb. I shouldn't have said that."
"No, I get what you mean, it's okay, really," Spencer said quickly, seemingly amused. "It, uh... It really did help. You know, sex is a good stress reliever. The endorphins it releases puts you in a better mood and calms you down, and studies show that regular sexual activity can aid in decreasing high blood pressure during stressful situations."
"I... didn't know that. Sounds helpful. Especially with your job, I imagine."
He nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. "What about you? Is your job stressful?"
Y/N shrugged, kind of glad that the conversation moved away from sexual nature. Though, she supposed the reason it was there in the first place was kind of her fault. In any case, she told Spencer about her job. "It's not as stressful as other jobs can be, but I just got a promotion so all the responsibility is a little daunting, I guess."
"I'm sure you're fine," he complimented, setting his mug down. "Though... If you do ever find yourself beginning to buckle under the stress of your job, sex is a good way to keep your spirits up."
It was a joke. A reference to their conversation, the whole reason they were in this moment in the first place. So why did Y/N respond with, "What, is that your way of offering?"
I'm just full of stupid shit lately, aren't I, she thought, immediately hating herself for saying it. Things were going well, and Spencer didn't seem mad or annoyed after the whole incident, and now she was positive she'd made everything worse.
But nothing could have prepared her for what came out of his mouth next.
"Maybe it is."
She looked up at him and saw that he was completely serious. His eyes bore into her, staring her down like he was trying to compel her to say something, to do something, to put her under his spell. Y/N swallowed, trying to speak, but nothing would come out.
Oh, now you have nothing to say? Good going, Y/N...
Nevertheless, he waited. His eyes remained glued on her, tilting his head to the side and raising his eyebrows as if to ask her, well?
Eventually, she settled on, "You mean it?"
Spencer nodded slowly, staring at her with an intensity she hadn't experienced in forever. "Only if you want to."
Immediately Y/N thought back to last night. His nasty words replayed in her ears over and over again, repeating themselves like a mantra— You like that, baby? You like when I hold you down and fuck you?
And under his burning gaze, Y/N felt like she was on fire. Her lower stomach bubbled over with desire and she imagined him fucking her like he had in her dream.
It's almost like he knew what she was thinking about. Because right before she could tell him she wanted him, he laughed softly to himself. "What are you thinking about, Y/N?"
Her name on his lips sent shivers down her spine. "W... What?"
"Tell me. You're thinking about having sex with me right now, aren't you?"
She could barely breathe. But she managed to get out a strangled, "Yes."
Spencer smirked and stood up, walking around the table but never taking his eyes off Y/N. She swallowed and stood up too, meeting his eyes and tilting her head up to look at him— really look at him. His pupils were full-blown, his lips formed into an amused smile as he reached out to touch her face. She fluttered her eyes closed and leaned into his touch, a small sigh involuntarily escaping her lips.
"How long have you been thinking about me?" Spencer asked quietly, yet the tone in his voice rather demanded an answer more than asked for one.
Y/N opened her eyes to meet his, and almost crumbled under the weight of their intensity. "S-since last night."
He hummed in response, running his thumb over her chin and up to her lips, just barely touching them. "Have you ever thought about it before then?"
She couldn't lie to him. "A few times."
That got a full smile out of him, but it disappeared rather quickly as he stepped even closer and gripped the side of Y/N's face in his right hand, his fingers barely weaving through the hair behind her ear. She gasped and looked up at him, silently begging for him to kiss her. To push her onto the table, or choke her, or something.
"Tell me what you want," he demanded, keeping that even, soft tone. It sent another chill through Y/N's body.
She could hardly breathe. Could hardly form words.
Spencer slipped his hand behind her head and gripped the underside of her damp hair, tugging slightly as she whimpered. "What do you want?"
"I want you to fuck me," Y/N gasped out, completely and utterly entranced by his looming presence.
"Now?" he asked, his own way of really making sure she wanted to go through with this.
"Yes," she breathed. "Yes, please, fuck me. Please."
The look he gave her after she said it was purely dirty and unlike any thing she'd ever experienced. She decided then and there that if that was the reaction she'd get from him for begging, she would beg him for anything any time.
Not to mention, the way he kissed her was enough to make any man or woman fly into the sun. Both of his hands found themselves lost in her hair, pulling her head to his and practically massaging her scalp as he glided his lips across hers with a slow burning fever that made Y/N's body completely succumb to him. She melted into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer, reaching up to twist her fingers through the ends of his hair, admiring how soft and perfect it felt on her skin. Once Spencer's tongue swiped over her bottom lip and softly pushed into her mouth, it was well and truly over. Y/N was done for. He could do anything he wanted and she wouldn't turn him away.
He pulled away for a moment, taking her bottom lip between his teeth before moving back in and angling his head in the other direction, kissing her deeper and causing a groan to slip from her throat.
Y/N desperately clung to his neck, wishing he could do this to her forever, but then he took one of his hands away from her head and brought it to her lower back. He completely pulled her against him, one of his legs slipping between hers and putting the slightest bit of pressure to her crotch.
She whimpered, causing Spencer to push himself against her harder, the two of them completely attached. He brought his knee up just a little, and Y/N instinctively ground against it, desperately wanting to feel any type of friction she could manage. It warmed her whole body to the core, being completely embraced by him, and in a matter of seconds she was more desperate than she'd ever been.
She pulled her face away from his reluctantly, breathing heavily and still grinding against his leg. "Please," was all the could think to say.
"Such a needy little thing, aren't you?" Spencer whispered, peppering her neck with wet kisses as he brought his leg up higher, giving her more access. He leaned his butt against the table for support, until eventually he gave in and sat down on it, bringing her down to sit on his thigh.
Y/N hesitated, halting her movements for a second before he gripped her hips and moved them forward. "Go ahead, pretty girl. Ride my thigh."
She groaned at the nickname and obliged happily, grinding down and rocking her hips against him. He continued to kiss her neck, occasionally biting down and sucking at different spots, sure to leave marks.
He hadn't even really touched her yet, and Y/N was absolutely dizzy, high on kisses and his hands burning into her hips. She felt her stomach start to coil as an orgasm came to the surface, her legs clenching tighter around him.
"You close, baby?" Spencer muttered against her neck, right under her ear. He took her earlobe between his teeth for just a moment before rocking her hips faster, bringing his leg up just a bit higher to aid her. She shoved her head into his neck and cried out his name, somewhere between a whine and a moan.
Within a matter of seconds Y/N was shaking around him, panting his name over and over while he brought his leg just a tad higher, bringing her over the edge. Her mind raced, coming to terms with what just happened and what was about to happen, and it made her tremble again, sending one more shockwave through her lower body before her hips slowed to a stop.
Spencer slid his hands back up to her head, bringing her face to his once more and kissing her. As if she wasn't already so out of breath. But it didn't matter. She only cared about his mouth and the way it captured hers like it belonged there, like it knew she was his for the taking. And she really believed that was true.
Y/N still straddled his leg, but she wanted to give him the same release he'd given her, so she attempted to climb away and moved one of her hands down to his belt.
Spencer stopped her hand and pulled his face away from hers. For a moment she thought she'd done something wrong, and she was about to apologize, but he pulled her close and stroked her hair with his hand, tilting his head to meet her gaze. "Not yet, pretty girl. I want to taste you first."
And without another second passing by, he moved the hand that grabbed her wrist between them and snuck it into her shorts and panties. Y/N jumped a little, but only because it felt too good for her own good. Her eyes fluttered shut when his middle finger grazed her clit, but his other hand gripped her chin and forced her to look at him. "No. I want you to look at me, okay?"
She nodded, and then whimpered when he slipped a finger inside of her. She lifted herself up just a little so he had more access, and sure enough his finger slipped in and out with ease.
She wanted more, but he took his hand away, and the glimmer in his eye when she pouted, visibly frustrated, sent her into another small fit of tremors.
"So antsy, pretty girl," Spencer laughed, slightly amused. Y/N would have said something, but all words escaped her when he brought his fingers to his mouth. His tongue poked out to taste-test before he completely took them in, holding eye contact with her the whole time. As he sucked his fingers clean, Y/N felt herself growing desperate again, and she ground against his leg once more.
Spencer laughed and brought his fingers out of his mouth, resting them on her hips. "You're being awfully quiet, Y/N."
"I... I don't... Is that a bad thing?"
"Not necessarily. But you didn't have a problem being loud last night."
It brought color to her cheeks. Her first instinct was to apologize but she knew he'd chastise her for it, so she didn't. Rather, she embraced the opportunity and pulled herself closer to him. "Is that what you want, Spencer? You want me to be loud for you?" Her voice was soft, somewhat contradicting what she was saying, but she looked at him through her eyelashes, biting her lip as if asking for permission.
And now it seemed like it was his turn to groan, though it came out as more of a growl as he pushed her away from him, grabbing her arm and leading her through the apartment. All the rooms were built the same so he knew where to go. He didn't take the time to scan her room, though if he did it was fast. Y/N barely had any time to react before he pulled her to him again and kissed her roughly.
As his fingers weaved through her hair again, Y/N decided to take a chance, snaking her hands down to his belt. This time he didn't stop her, his lips opening and granting her access to his tongue as she unbuckled the belt. She unzipped his pants and pushed them down his hips, but they only got about an inch down before he pulled away from her completely, leaving her empty again.
She whined, and he smirked.
"What is it, Y/N?" he asked. "What do you want?" His tone was almost condescending, like he knew exactly what she wanted.
She didn't like being teased. "I just want you," she stated, whining a bit to prove her point.
He seemed to contemplate his words for a moment before he spoke. "And... you think I should just give you what you want? After I caught you eavesdropping on me last night?"
He was only saying it to see her flushed. To embarrass her and make her shy so he could make it better in the end. She knew that, knew better, and yet it still worked. "I'm sorry," she pleaded, getting down on her knees in front of him and looking up at him with just as much desperation as she could manage. "You know I feel really really bad about it, just please let me make it up to you. Please, Spencer."
When all he did was look down at her, amused and still, Y/N batted her eyelashes and grabbed the waistband of his pants and underwear. She waited to pull them down until he did or said something, but all he did was stare. She couldn't tell if he was making her wait or if he was waiting for her, and she was afraid of making the wrong decision. But, deciding that she'd been in enough trouble in the past 10 hours to last a lifetime, Y/N took a chance yet again and pulled Spencer's pants all the way down.
Still unsure of what would happen if she continued, Y/N scooted closer, but kept her eyes locked on his. She batted her eyelashes and ran her hands up his thighs, eventually wrapping around to his ass. She brought them up his lower back and around to feel his stomach before sliding down to the front of his hips. She stopped them there, gliding her thumbs over his skin in small circles as she pleaded once more for good measure.
"Pretty please."
Spencer gave in, bringing his hands to her hair and pulling her close. "It's all yours, baby."
The words sent heat straight to her lower half as she flicked her tongue out to taste the head of his cock. His eyes fluttered shut at the contact, and Y/N took that as her opening. She looked down and marveled at him as she took him completely in her mouth, slowly but surely, getting herself acquainted with his size.
Once she set a steady pace, she looked up at him and found that he was absolutely wonderstruck. His eyes practically sparkled as they fixed on her, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth in pure adoration and fascination. Y/N took this as encouragement, bobbing her head faster and slacking her jaw as she let him hit the back of her throat with each thrust forward. She gagged once and pulled herself off, bringing her hand up to jerk him for a few seconds before using her mouth again. This was a cycle that continued until tears were streaming down her cheeks and spit was leaking down her chin, and every time she looked up at him, Spencer would groan and tighten his grip in her hair.
Eventually he stopped her, pulling her off of him and panting. "Come here," he whispered, and Y/N got up off her knees, standing up and wiping some of the spit from her face. It didn't feel all that sexy as she was doing it, though the way he looked at her made her feel like she was the only thing in the entire world that could bring him joy.
He reached forward and wiped some of the tears from her cheek before kissing her, groaning into her mouth as he did so. His still hard cock pressed against her leg, and she groaned, too, before he pulled away.
That dark glimmer returned in his eye when he spoke. "Take your clothes off."
Y/N didn't have to be told twice. Immediately she threw her shirt off over her head and tossed it to the ground as Spencer stepped out of his pants. His eyes travelled down to her breasts and she noticed him swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing a few times before he looked back up at her face. Keeping eye contact and softly biting her lip, Y/N hooked her fingers around her shorts and underwear and slid them down her legs until they reached the other clothes on the floor. She kicked them to the side and tilted her head up.
She thought he might kiss her again, but instead he nodded his head towards her bed. "Lay down on your back."
As Y/N had learned pretty early on, she was quick and eager to obey, and so she did as she was told, laying down in the middle of the bed, her head resting on her pillows and the rest of her body laying flat, eagerly awaiting Spencer's next move.
She watched him as he took his shirt off, leaving him completely bare, and before she had time to admire him, he bent down and grabbed something from his pants.
A condom, Y/N realized as he made his way to her.
"You really came over with the intent to fuck me, didn't you?" she mused, unable to stop herself.
He laughed at her words, climbing over her and leaning down to press his lips to her neck in a soft kiss. "Wasn't it obvious?"
No, she thought to herself, but she didn't say anything. Though even if she wanted to, she couldn't have, because Spencer's mouth moved down her neck and to her chest. He licked a small circle over her right nipple before enclosing it entirely in his mouth, and Y/N arched her back off the bed, running her fingers through his hair.
He laughed again, taking her nipple in between his teeth before releasing it and saying, "I love how fucking responsive you are, pretty girl."
Everything about what he was saying and doing to her sent Y/N into a tailspin. Before she had time to respond, he moved his mouth to her other breast and got right to work, repeating the process.
One of his hands trailed down her body, just light enough to leave goosebumps it its wake, until it reached where she really wanted him. As if to prove his last statement, Y/N's hips bucked upwards to feel more of him, and Spencer laughed against her chest, removing his mouth from her and using both of his hands to steady her hips, pushing them into the mattress. "Can you be still for me? Use your words."
Y/N sighs and bites her lip before answering. "Yes. I can be still."
"Louder, Y/N. You promised you'd be loud for me, remember?"
If she wasn't wet before, she definitely was now. And she thought about just repeating her words louder, like she was expected to, but then something in that stupid part of her brain said to push her luck. And so she laughed back at him.
"No, I didn't."
Spencer seemed shocked. This was the first time she'd blatantly disagreed with something he said. "What?"
He seemed a little mad, but Y/N acted innocent. "Well, I asked you if you'd like me to be loud for you, and you just pulled me in here. You didn't answer me, and I didn't promise anything."
She was scared of what he would do or say, but that turned her on even more.
And without warning, Spencer jammed two of his fingers into her mouth, forcing it open and pressing them down on her tongue. "Well, sweetheart, this is me telling you. You're gonna scream my name until the whole city can hear how needy you are for me."
She almost choked on his fingers, but he took them out and slid them down her chin and neck, leaving her completely breathless. He waited a beat before laughing to himself. "Aw, see? Look what I do to you, pretty girl," he mused. "You're so submissive."
Y/N wanted to argue, but she wanted him more, so she whined and tried to move him closer, to which he laughed again and caressed her face. "That's what I thought. Now be a good girl and wait a second while I put this on, okay?"
For fear of disappointing him, Y/N replied with, "Okay," loud and clear.
He smirked, unwrapping the condom and starting to slide it over himself. "Fast learner."
And in an attempt to patch things over even more, she batted her eyes like she knew he liked, acting patient and innocent though she was pretty sure they both knew she was the exact opposite.
It paid off in the end though, because Spencer rewarded her with a sweet kiss as he ran the tip of his cock over her pussy, just barely entering. He teased her like that for about a minute before she started to get antsy, and yet he didn't let up. He raised an eyebrow at her, and catching on she reached up, grabbing the sides of his face and blinking once before talking. "Please, Spencer. Fuck me."
"Atta girl," he praised before moving forward and entering her. Immediately Y/N moaned, her mouth open and eyes just about rolling to the back of her head. Her hands slid up his face and through his hair, weaving her fingers through the soft waves as he set a steady pace, letting themselves get used to the feeling of being wrapped up in each other like this. For a moment it seemed like he forgot his promise to fuck her so hard the whole city would hear her screaming his name, but after a while, he apparently decided that she wasn't being loud enough.
"Come on, Y/N. You can do better than that."
She wanted more than anything to tell him that if he fucked her harder then maybe she would be louder, but infinitely realized that A) that was a surefire way to get chastised, and B) if she was louder, he would fuck her harder. He was going to make her work for it, and in the end she didn't mind that at all.
So she told the truth. "Fuck, Spencer, you feel so goo— ahh!"
Almost as soon as the words left her mouth, he quickly adjusted and fucked her faster, and aside from the overstimulation, it was starting to feel reminiscent of the dream she'd had last night. She wasn't crying but she felt like she could, every fiber of her being burning alive with pleasure. She felt her orgasm rising to the surface, but she didn't want this to end yet. Maybe if she was lucky Spencer would keep going after she'd finished, though at this point she was just happy to let him fuck her for any period of time.
That being said, he slowed his movements, making each stroke harder and more deliberate, and Y/N yelled out his name, hoping to get more.
"You close, pretty girl? Hmm? You wanna cum?"
The strain in his voice sent another wave of pleasure coursing through her body. He was close too, she just knew it.
"Yes," she breathed, before repeating it louder and louder. "Yes, yes, yes!"
She was just about to fall over the edge when Spencer laughed and pulled out of her, leaving her unsatisfied, empty, and confused.
"What?" she breathed, looking up at him.
He slid the condom off and tossed it aside before jerking himself off over her stomach. "Only good girls get to cum. You should have thought of that before you eavesdropped on me."
And then he came all over her stomach and chest. She would have been more angry, but the whole sight in front of her was hot as hell. Who was she to complain? She watched as his face scrunched up in pleasure, his mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut. His hair faintly stuck to his face, and his hips jerked into his hand until eventually he was spent.
Y/N whined at the sight, completely turned on feeling his warm cum coating her skin and also utterly frustrated for not getting off.
Spencer opened his eyes to look at her, and she thought in that moment it looked like he would burst into flames. As his gaze raked over her body, covered in his cum and so obviously desperate for release, he licked his lips and got down, spreading her legs wider and opening her up to him.
"Wha—"
Y/N didn't get to finish her thought, because Spencer was immediately eating her out like a man starved, running his tongue through her pussy, occasionally flicking it over her clit. As expected, the louder she got the more he gave her, and at one point he started fingering her at a relentless pace, curling his fingers up against her g-spot while circling her clit with his tongue.
He brought his head up and looked at her through his eyelashes as best as he could, barely catching a glimpse of her face, completely contorted in pleasure.
"You wanna cum, pretty girl?" he teased, slowing his fingers torturously.
She whined and then threw her head back, pleading. "Spencer, please!"
He only got a little faster and then gently flicked his tongue over her clit again, to which she yelped and fisted the sheets.
In turn he moved faster. And she got louder. Faster and louder, faster and louder, until finally he gave her what she wanted.
"That's it, pretty girl. Cum for me."
Right after he said it, Y/N arched her back off the bed and fisted the sheets even harder, actually screaming his name until it came out as incoherent sobs, eventually dwindling down to whimpering and panting as he aided her down from her high.
Spencer's movements slowed to a stop, pulling his fingers out of her and pressing one final kiss to her clit before removing himself from her completely and coming up to lay down beside her.
She stayed there on her back, arms clutched at her sides, breathing deep and eyes almost heavy like she was about to fall asleep. He brushed her hair away from her face and pressed a kiss to her lips. She could taste herself on him, and it excited her. When he pulled away, she turned her head to look at him and smiled.
"I'm definitely going to have to invade your privacy more often if this is what the end result is."
Spencer laughed, his hand brushing lightly through her hair. "So that was okay? I'm sorry if I was kind of mean, I—"
"I'm gonna stop you right there. If I was really truly mad about anything you did, I would have screamed at you, not for you. Trust me. You're just fine. That was... perfect."
"Good... And you know I was just teasing you about eavesdropping, right? I'm not actually upset about it."
"No, I know. I still feel kinda bad about it though."
"Well, you shouldn't. If anything... something good came out of it, right?"
Y/N laughed, scrunching her nose as he looked at her. "Right."
After a moment, Spencer sat up and looked down at her stomach, a smirk on his face. "I'm gonna go get you a washcloth."
"Good thinking. And while you're at it could you also grab the Advil?"
He was on his way out the bedroom door, slipping on his underwear before stopping in his tracks. "Oh no... I- I didn't hurt you did I?"
"Oh! No, you didn't. I just know that I'm going to be sore, and walking will most definitely be a problem. And I am not getting out of this bed for the rest of the day, so Advil will definitely help. Thank you for that, by the way."
Spencer laughed, leaving Y/N to admire him as he walked away.
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Ok, hear me out.
Levi coming at night to his s/o cuz he had a nightmare that they’ve died. And to calm him down, S/o unbutton a shirt (nothing sexual) and let him lie down on their chest “you feel warmth of my skin, hear how my heart is beating, I’m here, I’m alive, I love you”
I know! Please don’t judge me xD
What a beautiful idea. Thank you for sharing it with me <3 And don’t worry - there is never any judgment around here! We love Levi without shame! :]
Word count: 1000 Tags: sfw, canonverse, hurt-comfort, angst
He should have known better than to come to you like this, but that nightmare so realistic left his body in a tremor and his mind in a trance. Staggering down the barracks, he tried and failed to convince himself that it was all just a dream. If you had drowned, he could stave it off - knowing you to be a good swimmer. If you had a heart attack, he could shake it aside - you were far too young for that. But this… this was something he could not combat.
Literally, it was. How his anchors pierced the titan but his gear failed to propel him. Blades slashed at its limbs but managed not even a cut. Neither a flare nor his screams did anything to stop the abnormal from snatching you out of the air and hoisting you to its mouth. The fear in your eyes, how your last move was to reach out to him, Levi shivered - even in these dark hallways, he could see it all too vividly.
Just as frightened as he was to wake up from that terror, you were likewise petrified when you saw a shadowy silhouette coming through your doorway. Maybe not the most graceful way to enter, but desperate times called for desperate measures. It was not only your safety at risk, but his as well. You were no delicate flower - your swords were just under your bed, hand-to-hand combat skills still fresh in your mind, but Levi knew you better than you knew yourself. You would recognize his figure, recognize his voice before you would ever pull a weapon on him. It was that confidence that drove his pace to your bed, making his presence known before you could even ask who’s there?
“Levi?!”
“It’s me.” He rushed through his words as he placed his familiar palm on your forehead, “It’s just me.”
Even as he pet your hair and tried to soothe you, you felt your pulse continue to pound. Fingers clenched the mattress and sat yourself up, “You scared me!”
Levi swallowed painfully. That was always the opposite of what he wanted to do, especially after the vision he just had - watching you die as you cried for his help. “I’m sorry.”
Two words hardly ever heard from him - you felt your heart seize up, “I just needed to see you,” Levi took your hand from underneath the covers, a warm contrast in his cold and clammy hold, “and to feel you.”
Dim moonlight snuck through thin curtains was your only aid in this darkness. Eyes strained to make out his expression, but when you did, it all started to make sense. There was a fear you had never seen on him, even though you both had gone through so many hellish expeditions. A grief unfamiliar despite how many body bags you had lugged back. Most jarring though was what made your jaw drop: a look of regret on the man who lived without it. To pain humanity’s strongest was no easy feat, whatever had the best of him now must have struck the depths of his heart, a place he saved for only you.
How tightly he held your hand, how sound his gaze was on you, you could not tell exactly what had struck him, but you did know exactly what you had to do.
As much space as could be offered, you made that and then some, shifting towards the edge of your twin bed and accommodating a spot for him at your side. Levi kept your hand sandwiched between his even while he crawled under your sheets. Chills were felt secondhand, his body nearly frozen in its cradle against yours. On another night, you might tease him for it, but tonight, the thought did not even cross your mind.
Instead, instinct took over. Slow movements so as not to startle, you brought your left hand to your nightshirt’s buttons and your right hand to his shoulder. Arm wrapped behind his back tugged him gently to your chest, gradually exposed by your fingers’ unfastening. Every inch you brought him closer, each button you undid, was one more ounce of his anxiety melted away.
There was a lot of work to be done. Still, it was a task you took on happily, one you even considered yourself honored to have. Dating him was a gift but his past was a plague. Everyone else was right in saying that he did not need fixing, but a common misconception was that he did not need support. Just like everyone else, Levi Ackerman needed help sometimes and you were always his greatest.
A few seconds, a couple minutes, both however long and at last, your front was unbound and freed from the confines of clothes - pillowed by satin bedding underneath and blanketed by his cold sweat locks strewn over your chest. You felt your buds harden at the new exposure and his damp strands, but sex was far from your minds. Opposite to that chill was a new heat, one you could not positively identify, but from his shaky breaths and uneven trembling, you could only assume were tears.
The hand that had just revealed your chest was the one that now cupped the back of his head. Fingers woven into his hair sheltered him in the crevice of your breast. An innate decision, but a thoughtful one.
“Levi,” you whispered into his ear, lips brushed against his cusp - a feeling too vivid to be a dream.
A silent sniffle, a low exhale, and a stiffened squeeze of your side made up his only response.
You held him tighter, “You feel the warmth of my skin?”
He felt it.
“Hear how my heart is beating?”
He heard it.
“I’m here. I’m alive.”
He knew it.
“I love you.”
He repeated it. You did aloud.
I’m here. I’m alive. I love you. I’m here. I’m alive. I love you.
For as long as you were, you would always remind him. And in the morning, finally quelled by eight peaceful hours at your side, he would lean over, kiss you, and reciprocate: he was here, he was alive, he loved you.
// masterlist //
#levi x reader#levi ackerman x reader#levi#levi ackerman#anlian writes#angst#oneshot#alias's#request#2021
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OCTOBER 1: KNIFE PLAY
Notes: Kicking Kinktober off with the following. Thank you as always @javier-pena for reading this over for me!
Pairing: Dave York x f!reader
Rating: Explicit (18+!)
Word count: 1.9k
Warnings: SMUT, established relationship, romance???, sexy use of knives (...i hope), sliiiiightly dub-con but that’s Dave for ya, dirty talk, gags, 1 **** (dedicated to Kelli and Cris 😘) If I forgot anything important, please let me know!
The slam of the door startles you awake. Sitting up in bed, you listen to him rummage around downstairs, trace his path through the kitchen, the living room, and up the stairs. Usually, he’s more quiet, at least attempts to not wake you, but the fact that he doesn’t must mean that today is one of those days.
You know what Dave does; your darling husband by day, something else entirely by night.
It hadn’t started off like that, is what he told you once he came clean. He really had been a CIA operative before becoming what he is now. But this suited him better. He had tried to explain what that meant, careful not to scare you; that people paid good money to eliminate other people, that it sometimes got messy.
But you weren’t scared. You tried to explain that to him, and that mutual understanding, that you were the same on some level others might consider fucked up, it deepened your bond, your marriage, in a way you never expected.
The bedroom door sweeps open, his silhouette dark in the deep of the night, painted in shadows, but the little light in the room does allow you to take note of the blood that has dried on his face. It makes you inhale deeply, fisting the duvet under your hands and waiting for him to make the first move.
It’s one of those days, after all.
Dave reaches you in two big steps, his boots heavy against the protesting wooden floor, but waits at the end of the bed, gnawing at his bottom lip and balling his fists like he has to physically hold himself back.
“It’s okay,” you say, and as soon as you do, he’s on you. Sheets discarded, he crawls over you, pushing you back against the mattress. His eyes roam your face, and he seems to be looking for more than that, so you give him more affirmations. “You can take what you need.”
Wordlessly, he straddles you, a thigh on either side of your body, and you’re trapped below the weight of him, your arms pinned to your side, the fabric of your nightgown stretched across your frame. There’s a barely-there roll of his hips, and he’s unmistakably hard as he seeks out the friction against you. He reaches behind himself, then produces his knife from his back pocket. With a click, the blade reveals itself, glinting like a promise and fuck, it shouldn’t make a burst of arousal flare up inside of you, but it does.
“You would let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you, sweetheart?” Dave asks as he turns the knife over in his hand once, twice, before giving you an expectant look.
“Yes,” you answer, obedient, eager, honest—because you would.
The cold blade—phosphated carbon steel, as he once explained to you—presses against the skin at your collarbone, the tip just hitting the side of your neck, and you swear you can feel your pulse racing against the sharp steel.
You know exactly what he can do with it, what he has done with it, and yet you trust him, literally with your life.
“You won’t hurt me, not unless you know I want it.”
You don’t miss the way he grins, or grinds down against you, or how he inspects your body under his. In a flash, he hooks the knife under one of the straps of your nightgown and pulls, the fabric parting easily around the top of the blade.
An eager hand pulls at the flap of fabric until he can fill his hand with the soft, plump flesh of your breast. With a gasp, you arch up against him, crying out when he pinches your nipple and twists.
You expect him to go for the other strap, expose your tits to him and play with them until you’re begging him for more, but instead, he fists the torn fabric and pulls it away from your body, bringing the knife up to begin cutting a slit right down the middle. With each rip-rip-rip of fabric, the throb between your legs gets more intense, and an actual moan escapes your lips when he fists the last bit of it and pulls, tearing the garment in half and pushing it to the sides of your body.
His finger dips under the waistband of your underwear, grazing just where the soft curls on your mound begin. He toys with it, pulling it from your body and letting the elastic snap against your skin, before hooking his finger back under it.
“Want me to tear this off, too?” he asks, focusing not on your face, but on the task at hand.
You take a deep breath. “Use the knife.”
That earns you his attention, something akin to pride flashing across his face before he looks back down. In one rapid move, the blade slides over your hip bone and under the fabric of your underwear. With a tug, it tears, the elastic snapping and the material folding back, exposing you to his hungry eyes.
Your head falls back against the pillow, and you moan as he repeats the action on the other side, again when he rips the fabric from between your legs.
“Open up,” he orders.
You try to move your legs, open them for him, but with his thighs still on either side of yours, it’s impossible. Just as you’re about to protest, he leans over you, grabbing you by the chin.
“Open. Your mouth.”
His fingers find your face, and the pinch to your cheeks borders on painful, making you open your mouth with a wet gasp.
Even in the dark, you can see him smile, before he tilts your head back just a tick and spits. His smile only grows when you welcome it with a moan, eyes fluttering and body surging under him before you swallow. “That’s my good girl,” he praises, kissing your open mouth before stuffing your ruined panties inside of it.
The blade is back at your throat, and the pressure of it against your voice box abruptly cuts off your answering whine. With a rough exhale Dave sits back and begins dragging the dull side of it down your body. Still, you find yourself holding your breath, your chest jutting out with the effort. Chin to your chest, you watch as he circles your nipple, once, twice, until it begins standing to attention, hardening at the cold, gentle touch. He brings it back to the centre of your chest and slides it over to your other breast, flicking at your nipple. Satisfied with how your body quivers under his, he slides the blade further down your body, following the bump of your ribcage to your belly button and down.
He shuffles back, and despite the fact that his body is no longer keeping your arms incapacitated, you keep them pressed against your torso while he crawls between your legs. With his free hand, he pulls one over each of his thighs, spreading you open for him to look at, to take you.
The knife kisses the sensitive skin of your thighs, and he keeps teasing you while he opens his trousers and takes his cock out. His eyes fix themselves on your cunt, no doubt glistening with want, even in the dim light of the night.
“You get so fucking wet for this shit, it’s depraved, sweetheart,” he grits out, and despite the fact he says it like he’s scolding you, you know he loves it. Dave is a dark man in more ways than one, and he loves that you’re like this. Like him. For him. With him.
He proves you right when he begins stroking himself, a ragged sigh sailing past his lips as he throws his head back, exposing the thick, strained tendons in his neck. He allows himself a couple seconds of relief, before he stops himself with a long exhale, a hand trailing up your thigh to touch you where you’re more than ready for him.
He fills you with two thick fingers, curling and stroking at your slippery walls, and it’s so much at once, making you cry out against the makeshift gag in your mouth.
“This sweet pussy is going to feel so perfect around my cock,” he says, eyes only leaving yours when he slowly pulls his fingers free, groaning softly at the way your body pulls at him, working to keep him inside. “Would you like that?”
You nod in the dark, unable to help yourself from bucking your hips to chase his touch. The hand that still holds the knife is quick to push you down, the blade glinting dangerously close to your hip bone.
“Want me to put it in, baby? Want me to put it all in? Push all the way inside until you can’t think about anything else but how deep you can feel me inside you?” He slides himself over your mound, pushing until the head of his cock can smear wetly under your belly button, showing off just what that would mean.
There’s so much you wish you could tell him right now. That yes, you want it. That you want him so badly to just take what he wants from you, here, like this, between the shreds of your clothes where you’re spread for the taking. That this ‘depraved shit’ does make you wet, it does when it’s him, when he uses you, when he makes it hurt.
But your affirmation is suppressed against the fabric in your mouth, nothing but incoherent, muffled babbles filling the bedroom.
And yet, it’s like he can tell exactly what you’d been thinking, because the knife hits the floor with a clatter, and if he gave you any time, you might be able to analyse the sudden surge of emotion that flows through you at the idea.
But he doesn’t give you that time. The sound of the blade startles you almost as much as the fat tip of his cock notching at your entrance, as the slide of him inside, as the sharp thrust that makes his thighs slap against the back of yours. He pushes you up the mattress with the force of it, and your hand flies up to press a palm against the headboard to keep your head from knocking against it.
“Fucking Christ,” he sighs, stilling for a second to revel in the tight squeeze of your pussy before he draws back and spears himself through your slick walls - again, again, again.
“I’m gonna make this pussy come,” he promises, voice strained. “I’m gonna make it flood my cock and then I’m gonna cover you in my come,” he adds, a hand dragging over your torso, thumb and pinkie catching on your hardened nipples before he settles his hand on your hip to pull you down against him.
The head of his cock knocks against the button of your womb with each thrust, and at your silenced keens, he falls down to a forearm, eyes boring into yours as he continues to fuck you. “I’ve got you, baby,” he assures.
Your hand curls around his bicep, fingernails digging into the fabric of his long-sleeved top. It’s wet, warm, no doubt evidence of his successful mission, and that thought, your body’s response to it, eases the glide of him inside you.
“I’ve got you,” he repeats, his hand leaving your hip to slide between your legs, to draw maddening circles around your slippery, puffy clit, and with the way he’s been working you up, you already know it will take no time at all. “You know that, right?”
You nod with a muffled groan, focusing on the way he stretches you open and plays with your clit, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes with how hard you squeeze them shut as it builds—as it all builds.
You know.
--
Thank you for reading! I hope to see you all tomorrow for October 2: Stripping. Anyone who guesses correctly which character I’ve written for will get a sneak peek at the fic in their DMs😌
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#dani writing#kinktober 2021#dave york#dave york x reader#dave york x you#the equalizer 2#fanfic#pedro pascal character fanfiction
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Nothing but the Best
Author’s note: it’s getting interesting here ;) enter prince charming Sugu-kun to save the day.
IX.
https://youtu.be/uhoiqVPmURE
youtube
Satoru was afraid of making a move, least he tipped you over the edge and made you bolt; he didn’t want that. Swallowing hard he looked into your eyes… God… he had missed your beautiful E/C eyes so much. Waking up every morning without you by his side, without you kissing him awake cause he was going to be late for work… again. Your absence had left a literal infinite void in his heart that he was unable to fill.
“I know I don’t deserve anything from you Y/N, but I love you and I cannot give up on us… We said forever when we got married. And I want that… with you” speaking from the heart was not something Satoru ever did. He always preferred to cover any emotions with inappropriate jokes and double entendres. But he knew he couldn’t play his stupid games, not with you and most certainly not now.
You pulled away in that moment, as if his touch was burning you. He allowed it, doing his utmost effort not to pull you back in. His hands itched resting at his sides, missing the warmth of your body.
|||
It was you and me, it seemed to last forever
The way you taste and I still remember… the sounds we made.
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“It would have been nice if you felt that way before you decided to ruin this marriage. Where were those promises of forever when you fucked someone else?” You asked piercing his eyes with yours. He cowered under your glare. Satoru had never been on the receiving end of your wrath and now he understood why most people chose (wisely) to not mess with you. Every single one of your words was chosen carefully to cause the most damage. At the same time… what hurt the most was that you were right.
“Leave and don’t ever come back… you and I… are through…” Satoru noticed how you avoided calling him by his name, he hated it. As if uttering his name would leave a bad taste in your mouth “Y/N…” he whispered pleadingly when you took another step away. But this time he didn’t have the courage to stop you as you disappeared inside your apartment and locked the door behind you.
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I bet you wish you had me back! Another chance to gain it, just like that. The best you ever had.
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Satoru was fucked.
—————
The next morning Suguru’s plane landed. JFK international airport was as busy and chaotic as one would expect. After collecting his luggage he made his way to a cab giving the driver your current address.
He hadn’t been able to sleep a wink during the trip, his mind swarmed with all the possibilities of what could be happening right now. Satoru didn’t play fair and of course… you loved (probably still love) the lucky bastard.
With a sigh he decided to focus instead on the city going by through the cab’s windows. It wasn’t the first time he was in New York and his mind was much more occupied torturing him instead of appreciating the landscape.
After 40 minutes, Geto stood before a very nice and modern building located in the upper east side called Hawthorn Park. You sure knew how to live in luxury. He approached the doorman and let him know his name and that he was here to see Miss Ekaterina Petrova to which the kind looking old man responded by using his intercom to contact you. Geto was soon granted access and guided to the elevator.
The elevator doors opened on the 21st floor, he walked to the door of your apartment which was already open and you were waiting for him. His smile fell once he noticed you have been crying “oh Kitten” dropping his luggage on the spot he surrounded your body in his arms “I’m so sorry…” one didn’t need to be a genius to know Satoru had found you.
You both moved inside your apartment. Settling on the spacious couch you buried your face on Suguru’s lap as you cried. He stroked your now darker strands of h/c hair without a word exchanged. He knew you needed to let it all out. After what seemed an eternity you sat back up. Suguru gently dried your eyes.
“He was here last night…” you whispered in a raw and scratchy voice, result of your endless hours of distress before his arrival “he told me he loved me, that he left Sookie” scoff “and hear this… he left her because the baby wasn’t his!” Talk about karma at its best. Suguru already knew that but he was surprised to hear Satoru had come clean about it to you “He probably thought I would fall for that! But I didn’t” you added firmly.
Suguru was proud of you. He knew how hard it was for you to resist Satoru but you stood tall and proud when it mattered the most. “What do you want to do now?” Where you planning on moving again?
-
“I’m not leaving…” you said looking into Suguru’s liquid amber gaze. You couldn’t help but notice once again he had such pretty eyes, like a cat. You’ve always liked them, specially when they looked at you with such tenderness. You have missed him dearly during all this time.
“I can’t keep running away from him; I mean… it’s obvious he won’t stop and I… I am tired of molding my life to adapt to his whims. I’m staying here whatever happens. Sugu… I got the part for the Swan Lake!” You added remembering you haven’t talked to him during the last week and so he didn’t know about your latest accomplishment.
Geto’s eyes enlarged before a huge smile split his handsome face and his massive frame engulfed you in a tight hug. Of course he knew everything about ballet, he was your best friend after all. This was huge! Probably as big as making it in the ballet world meant “I’m so proud of you Kitten!” He said excitedly kissing your temple. Maybe not everything was as bad as he thought.
You were upset, it was true. But then again you were not prepared last night. Satoru had taken you by surprise. Now… you knew he was here and more or less knew what to expect from your soon to be ex-husband.
“Thank you Sugu…” you stopped and pulled back just slightly to look into his eyes from your height. He was a very tall man compared to you “I missed you” you said with a bright smile to which Geto replied with one of his own before pulling you in again for another hug “I missed you too Kitten” stroking your back softly Suguru decided he was happy to be here… with you.
-
https://youtu.be/3oSXqLgoSq4
youtube
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She's given up, been holding on for way too long
She's had enough
He's coming home again
But it's too late 'cause she won't stay with him
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The sunshine hitting his face was what woke him up. With a grunt Satoru rolled over on his side only to fall unceremoniously from the couch where he had passed out last night. The last thing he remembered was warping back to his hotel after you left him on the roof. The memory of you, turning your back on him and walking away squeezed his heart in a painful grasp.
Alcohol was never something he was attracted to, he liked to keep his brain constantly alert and stimulated. It served a purpose of course, it kept his infinity barrier on at all times, even when he was asleep. But last night he hit rock bottom. He didn’t care anymore…
As soon as he got back to the hotel, hopelessness made a home in his chest, sitting heavy on his heart. Walking to the fully stocked bar placed on the corner of his suite he opened a bottle of whiskey. He started slow since most everything was too bitter for his taste, so he went through the process of trying every single bottle until he found something to his liking.
Two hours and about fifteen different shots of everything he decided to settle for a bottle of Amaretto, some fancy Italian liquor made of apricot kernels. It was sweet.
Everything else after that was blur. Moving his sore body from the floor he forced himself to go to the bathroom. Maybe a hot shower would help ease his misery. Peeling off his clothes the smell of booze clinging on them made Gojo cringe. He decided to brush his teeth before showering. Looking in the mirror he couldn’t recognize the man starring back at him. He was a mess.
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Are we just ghosts out in the night?
Are we just waiting for a light that doesn't shine?
Are we just faking or is this real?
'Cause I don't know how to feel
Are we just ghosts now, you and I?
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Last night he had been so desperate, so hopeless and broken hearted. That’s when it hit him… his wife didn’t hurt him, she didn’t cheat on him (unlike himself), she didn’t do anything to him and yet he was feeling as if the world was collapsing around him. He lied, cheated and fucked up everything for them both.
Guilt…
Unadulterated, burning and suffocating guilt was consuming him. He felt bad before but it wasn’t until last night that he grasped the concept that Y/N didn’t owe him anything at all and that HE didn’t deserve it anyways.
The plan originally had been to get back in your good graces by doing penitence, submitting to your every whim and desire by becoming your devoted slave for as long as you would have it. He never even considered the possibility that his wife DID NOT WANT to forgive him in the first place.
He thought you left to give him a lesson, that you would eventually come back to him after he had a taste of what it was like to lose you.
But even after you both shared such a searing kiss, so passionate that every cell in his body was humming, aflame with desire you still managed to walk away from him as if it meant nothing to you.
What good did it do to him to be the strongest when he couldn’t even protect his wife… from himself.
After showering, changing clothes and ordering every sweet pastry and desert from the room service menu Gojo stopped to rethink his strategy.
What?…
Did you think he was going to stop there?
Absolutely no, love!
If anything, your rejection had only fueled his need to get you back.
“Time for plan B” sighing he pulled out his phone it rang a couple times before someone answered “good morning Mrs. Mazzo, this is Gojo Satoru. I’m going to need you to forward to me Miss Petrova’s rehearsal schedule…”
—
“This is really good!” You hummed happily after swallowing a bite of your steak. Suguru sat across from you at Keens Steakhouse, with a grin he watched as you indulged yourself in what you called your ‘cheat meal’ of the month. Being a professional ballerina was a tough and demanding commitment that controlled every aspect of your life, from how you train to what you eat. Despite it all, Geto knew you always found a happy balance that worked just fine for you.
Seeing your big smile made his heart jump in his chest, you were as beautiful and alluring as the day he met you. If only he had told you he liked you before Satoru did. This question kept him up at night, playing all sorts of scenarios in his mind. If he had taken the first step… would things have been different? Would you have ended up together? Married? Shaking his head he tried to focus on what you were actually saying. Deviating his thoughts to that kind of scenarios was dangerous. He also didn’t want to push it when he was perfectly aware you were still healing; he wasn’t a low life piece of shit to take advantage of your vulnerability.
But when you smiles at him as if he was the only thing in your world, when you held his hand across the table, playing with his finger, his throat felt dry and tight.
“What do you think Sugu?” Your curious and expecting eyes caught him like a deer in the headlights “I’m sorry Kitten, I was distracted. Could you repeat that please?” He asked with an affable smile.
You chuckled and stroke his hand softly “you look tired, did you sleep at all in the plane?” He shook his head “no, I didn’t. I never can, it’s uncomfortable” he hid on purpose the true reason why he hadn’t been able to sleep “come on Sugu! Let’s go back home! I bet you are tired” you said offering him a sweet smile.
After paying your bill you walked the few blocks back home. Suguru of course would be staying with you in the spare room of your penthouse. Holding hands while you talked to him about the activities the city had to offer, your schedule and how you intended to fit the time to do some tourism with him. “You don’t have to bother Kitten, I know you are busy enough with your job, I will be fine” he insisted.
You stopped on your tracks and stood in front of him, pouting, making him chuckle. You looked every bit the kitten he knew you to be, all bothered and moody “no! I want to spend time with you too you know! I haven’t seen you in so long! I’m not going to waste this chance!” You insisted to which Suguru threw his hands up in the air “I surrender Kitten! Do with me as you will” you giggled and then blushed. “Uh… eh… ok! I will!” He took your hand again and you both resumed your walk.
-
Satoru warped to the roof top of the building adjacent to yours, the lights were out in your apartment and he couldn’t sense your presence inside. You left? Where did you go?
Before a second though he warped inside your apartment but he saw all your stuff was still there, maybe you went out for groceries or something?
After a few minutes sitting on your couch he decided to wait for you on the street so he could see when you got home.
(Almost an hour later)
Oh… he wasn’t ready for what he saw.
“That mother fu….” Satoru grinds his teeth watching you walk down the street holding onto Suguru’s hand while talking distractedly. From his hiding spot in front of your building he closed his hands in a tight fist.
Well, this complicated things… a lot more.
————-> Chapter 10
———————————-
@sleepyamaya
@cloudsinthecosmos
@jxvajxy
@satoruhooraaa
@my-reality-is-in-my-head
@dok-ja
@jscarlet06
@fiona782
@thatsharklovingwoman
@heichoustheoryofcleanliness
@syynnaaah
@shaylove418
@coldvillainess
@vampgguk
@sukuna1stwife
#jjk#jjk Gojo#Gojo Satoru#gojo#Satoru#jujutsu geto#jujutsu gojo#geto x reader#gojo x reader#gojo angst#gojo x you#gojo saturo x reader#geto smut#geto x y/n#geto suguru#jjk suguru#getou suguru x y/n#Youtube
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better left unsaid - jjk
genre: angst, rebounds
pairings: jungkook x reader (ft. namjoon)
warnings: arguing, alcohol, profanity, break ups, light smut, use of drugs, jungkook is a fucking dick, jungkook has major attachment issues, toxic relationships, oc cries a lot, namjoon has a heart of gold, unrequited love
synopsis: you knew you shouldnt have given him that second chance, not the third or the fourth either. no matter how much you try he always slithers his way underneath your sheets, arms wrapped around you.
word count: 2.7k
music: into your arms, so it ends?, you will fade, thinkin bout you, julia, my insecurities not yours, fuck u, goodluck, my dear i will think of you
note: uhh ive never written a y/n fic so bare with me, if u listen to the music you’ll be able to feel the story a lot more so yeah if u have time u should, not proof read
Light coming through the cracks of the blinds, making you squint your eyes when the daylight beams into your eyes, head resting on the kitchen island Looking up, you saw the clock ticking on the wall, 11:32 am.
You had stayed up till 5 am, waiting for him to come home, but seemingly, he never did. Reaching for your phone, you saw 4 missed calls from the one and only,
Jeon Jungkook, saved in your phone as “Koo <3″, Rows of messages too, all from the same contact.
Koo <3 [05:34 am]
baby pkck me up pleseee
im so wsated
Koo <3 [06.46am]
dont be mad at me jsut pick me up
i dont knw hewere the fuck i am
i love you
Koo <3 [07:31 am]
i got a rde home i’ll be home by 12
i need to talk to someone frsit
im sorry if i woke ypu dont be worried
You took a few moments to collect your thoughts, but there wasn’t much to collect. This whole thing, was a routine by now.
Standing up to make yourself a cup of coffee, you could literally not feel your own backside, you were so sore from the barstool you had been sitting on all night, and it made you groan in pain.
Two coffee cups right beside the kitchen sink, which you couldn’t bring yourself to clean up, because it was from the last time you had coffee together, which was 2 weeks ago.
The inside of the cup had a coffee crust at the top, and both your lip tint marks on the outside.
When you finish your cup of coffee while watching a bad telenovela, you go sit in your favorite chair and pull out a few books from the backpack hanging on the chair next to you, getting ready to get some studying done.
For a few seconds you imagine Jungkook hanging over your shoulder laughing at the way you write your A-s and R-s, or the way you always sign your homework at the bottom of the page.
And when you open them, there’s no one there. The only sound is from the refrigerator, making refrigerator noises.
You had met Jungkook 3 years ago, when you were at college orientation, senior year of high school. He also wanted to attend Yonsei, just like you.
And when he whispered to you about how bored he was, you couldn’t help but giggle, and then you got yelled at.
It was worth it though, because everyone was jealous of you afterwards,the Jeon Jungkook had talked to you.
Jungkook was an all-rounder as they called it; great physique, intelligent, charismatic and great at sports.
And god, he had a beautiful face, and such a filthy mouth, and it didn’t go long before you gave in to his seductive ways and slept with him. The morning after, he wasn’t in bed with you, and your heart sank.
Luckily, he was in the kitchen making you breakfast.
It was all bliss from there, showering you with love, gifts and kisses for two years, and you even ended up moving in together.
And now? You barely remember what he sounds like, smells like and is like.
A distant memory, just as distant as him.
Your train of thought was suddenly interrupted as you heard 3 knocks on your door. The exact same way he had always knocked when he had forgotten (or lost) his keys.
And even though you should have let him suffer a little, you rushed to the door to open it, and in front of you, was your biggest nightmare.
It was your love, crying his eyes out, bleeding from one of many cuts on his face, looking nearly dead. He collapsed into your arms, and you could only utter a few words, along the lines of:
“How could you do this to us?”
As he was laying curled up in a ball on the couch, face plastered up, ice bag on his knee, wrapped up in a blanket, you realized. this was your que to cry.
So, you did. You cried in silence, sitting across the room from him. You weren’t mad at him for coming home late, or getting in another fight, probably the 5th just these past months, you had gotten used to that by now.
There was a whole other reason that made you cry.
He smelled like Victorias Secret Bombshell, you recognized the scent because it used to be your favorite, however, now you’ve moved onto something less sweet, and more elegant, like Caroline Herrera.
He smelled like someone who wasn’t you, his girlfriend.
He smelled like another girl.
It didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. Maybe because the Jungkook that had come home to you that morning wasn’t your Jungkook.
Your Jungkook was varsity jackets, star of the american football team (which your school was known for), selfless and humorous, and he would always take care of you.
Your Jungkook was not ungroomed hair, cigarettes and worsening grades. He was not cold and lifeless, and he would never make you cry.
Despite this, you were carding your fingers though his hair, thumb wiping away the blood on his lips while he was sound asleep as you slowly fell asleep next to him.
Maybe it was time to let him go.
Maybe.
You woke a few hours later from your phone vibrating.
Kim Namjoon (school) [07:01 pm]
Hey Y/N! Have you started working on the statistics assignment?
If you haven’t, would you be interested in meeting at the library tomorrow? You’re really smart and i’m kinda struggling ://
You [07:03 pm]
i finished it yesterday, but if you buy me coffee i’ll come help you hehe
Kim Namjoon (school) [07:04 pm]
You’re the best, I’ll bring you a machiatto!! :D
Maybe it would be nice for you to get out of the house, even though you hate the thought of it, and you would much rather just swim in your own sorrow.
But you did go out the next day, and you helped Namjoon get a decent grade, enough to pass with good margines, he thanked you by taking you out for ramen at a convenial store not too far away.
You thanked him for the ramen with a trip to the museum, and he thanked you for the museum trip with a picnic in the park at night, which led you to crying over Jungkook in his embrace, telling him every single little detail.
He made you realize it was time to let Jungkook go and make room for new people to enter your life.
You went home that night, and you found Jungkook passed out on the couch, and you could genuienly feel your chest tighten. Soft features which stood out under the moonlight glow, disheveled brown locks which hung down in his eyes.
He was gorgeous, until you saw the credit card on the table next to three bottles of soju and an empty beer can on the floor. And you knew what he had used the credit card for, though you didn’t want to say it out loud.
You cleaned everything up, and you threw the residue of the white powder right in the trash can, and you recycled his bottles and cans before finally, nudging him to wake up.
“Jungkook, wake up.” You spat coldly, or at least you attempted to.
He groaned, rubbing his eyes before opening his eyes, and s huge smile on his face. “Y/N, you’re home!” He reached to kiss you, but you backed away.
“Y/N?” Jungkook questioned, he didn’t quite understand what your intentions were.
“Don’t try anything Jungkook. This was your last chance, and you fucked it up, again.” The room turned ice cold. “I’m getting you help Jungkook, you need help. And then...”
He understood what kind of help you meant, and since he had now sobered up, he agreed, nodding. “And then...?”
“And then.” Your words were ludged in your throat. “And then I’m leaving you.”
His whole face dropped, smile turned into the frowniest frown you had ever seen, and it was all silent before his lower lip starts trembling, and his eyes start turning glassy.
“It’s alright. Sorry for burdening you.” Was all he could say before tears rushed down his cheeks, and he started shaking.
So you did what you always had done, and you wrapped your arms around him, head resting on your chest as he sobbed.
“Is there anyone else?” he cried out before another wave of sobs hit him.
This exact question made your stomach hurt, and your throat burn. You really had no idea.
Or you did, but you didn’t want to.
You loved Jungkook so much, but you couldn’t be with him in this state. So you did what every rational person would do in this situation.
“Yeah.”
You lied.
“Oh ok. I don’t have the right to be mad do I?”
You shake your head no.
“I love you Y/N. I’m sorry I’m so messed up.”
“It’s ok.” was all he said before he fell asleep in your arms again.
That night you slither your way out of his embrace and you pack your suitcase in the dark, bringing all your essentials, trying to be as quiet as possible so you didn’t wake Jungkook.
Packing enough for two weeks or so, you make the bed and leave your t-shirt “accidentally” in the bathroom, and you make sure all his clothes are folded, and then you sort his pencil case, throwing out old pens and worn out erasers.
You leave a grocery list on the counter, and you tuck him in good under the blankets after you took his jeans and socks off so he could sleep comfortably.
You placed his vitamins and medicine by the refrigerator so he’ll see it when he goes to grab something to eat.
Puffed up pillows, a pair of sweatpants, t-shirt and underwear is now placed neatly on his bed. Then you walk into the kitchen again, and you see Jungkook still sound asleep, sniffling a little still.
There’s one last thing, and it makes you cry. It makes you sob so loud you cover your mouth and muffle the sound you make. Sinking to the floor, your whole body is in contact with the cold tiles.
Only a year ago you could never imagine yourself even shedding a single tear over something as small as this, but here you were, on the edge of a panic attack.
Two worn out, matching couple mugs still placed by the counter. one if the first things you two had bought together, as well as the necklace hanging around your neck.
Finally, you stopped crying and started cleaning the mugs, lip trembling as you dried them and placed them in the back of the cabinet.
You unhooked your necklace and laid it down on the counter, and the biggest lump formed in your throat.
Actually, there’s a little detail you forget.
You kiss Jungkook on the forehead and leave a note on the coffee table.
“Dear Jungkook,
If you want to make this up to me (this does not mean a new chance!!) you call the number at the bottom of the page. No matter what happens, I’ll always have room for you in my heart. You even have your own little VIP lobby in there. And - if it’s urgent, call. I still care for you, and I always have. You were the best boyfriend I’ve had, but good things always come to and end, don’t they? Anyways, I’m tired so this letter fucking sucks, but deep down you know how much I love you. Remember to get groceries, shower, get fresh air and study. If I forgot something you can keep it, as long as you call the number and tell them you’re my friend. They’ll help you love. Try and get a part time job too, your student loan and your dad’s money won’t last forever. Good luck Koo. Hwaiting!!
-L/N Y/N <33″
You cringe when you think of the letter’s contents, before you roll out your suitcase out of the front door, whispering a faint “Goodnight Love.” as you close and lock the door behind you.
Standing by the elevator, you cry again. This time, louder, but you still reach for your phone and type out a text to the newly edited contact in your phone.
You [02:13 am]
coming outside now, im a crying mess and im super cold, is your car heated?
sorry for making you wait btw :((
Joonie <3 [02:13 am]
dont worry about the crying part, i’ll hold you. and yeah car is heated, so waiting here wasnt all that bad. you ready for this?
You [02:14 am]
i have no idea but i cant stay here any longer and i trust you sooo
lets start our new chapter. eh?
4 months later...
He had been good to you, great even.
You had been on expensive dates, picnics, had heart to heart conversations, and he’d been so understanding.
Today, it was your 2 month anniversary, and he had asked you on a magnificent date, which he had planned every second of.
At the end of the day, you told him how you don’t love him. He said it was alright. Namjoon loved you, so much, yet he understood you needed time.
You went to sleep that day, warm in Namjoon’s embrace, wondering how Jungkook was doing.
You felt bad, but you missed Jungkook.
You were both with someone new now, and you knew he was in good hands with someone stable enough to care for him.
Before your eyes closed shut, you shed a few quiet tears and hoped that you’d fall in love with Namjoon soon, and deep down you knew you would.
#jungkook x reader#jungkook angst#namjoon smut#jungkook ff#bts ff#bts imagines#bts scenarios#namjoon ff#bangtan smut#jungkook#jeon jeongguk#jeongguk ff
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Sweet Dreams
(Obey Me) Belphegor x F!Reader NSFW
Summary: Late night texts lead to a spicy adventure in the attic. Who said night time was for sleeping?
WC: 1.8K
TW: Hard Dom Belphie, humiliation, degradation, name-calling, pillow humping, facial, dacryphilia, spit, demon dick anatomy
A/N: Hello! Here’s some mean Belphie to flutter your hearts. I love dom Belphie and while I do think he can be a soft sweetie, I CLEARLY love me some mean boys. Hope you like it! As always, likes and reblogs are heckin’ appreciated!
3:42 A.M.
Your D.D.D buzzed, waking you up. Cracking an eye open, you opened the message, ready to curse Mammon out if he and Asmo were drunk texting you again.
“Hey.”
Typical Belphie. How do you even respond to that? You closed your eyes again. Maybe if he texted more than one word you would –
*BZZ*
“I know you’re awake, MC”
You rolled your eyes.
“What’s up Belphie? It’s 3 AM by the way. You of all people should be asleep right now.”
His response was immediate.
“Can’t sleep. Come to the attic.”
Your bed was so warm and comfortable. And he wanted you to walk all the way to the attic? He really was insane.
Another text came in.
“Please?”
You groaned, pulling yourself away from the soft comforter and pillows. Normally, you would have just ignored him until he fell asleep but you were a sucker for soft Belphie, the side he rarely showed anyone but Beel and you. With Beel being out for a tournament, you knew he was probably struggling with being alone.
You silently crept to the attic, knowing the brothers would throw a fit if they knew you were sneaking into Belphie’s room at night.
You knocked quietly on the heavy attic door and Belphie opened it with a sleepy smirk. His navy hair was tousled and he looked so smug for getting you to come to his room in the middle of the night. Stupid handsome bastard.
“I’m here Belph. What do you want?”, you yawned. He tugged you in the room, locking the door behind you.
You laid in his bed, pulling his cow print pillow to your chest as you tried to get comfortable, expecting him to curl up next to you to sleep. A few moments passed and you peeked over at him, still standing by the door staring at you.
You weren’t planning on seeing anyone in the middle of the night so you were just wearing a pair of tiny pink shorts and a tank top. You felt his eyes roaming over your skin, and you pulled the sheets around you.
“Don’t tell me you just brought me here because you’re horny.” You muttered, glaring at him. You weren’t opposed to hooking up but playing the soft, lonely demon card?
He grinned, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.
“What if I did? You gonna complain about it, little human?” He murmured, moving so he was standing in front of you. You had to crane your neck to look in his eyes and you had a feeling he relished looking down on you like this.
You couldn’t deny you were turned on. Belphie had a way of commanding the situation when you were alone and though he appeared to be the sarcastic sleepy brother, you knew behind closed doors he would have you on your knees, begging for him.
But, you were still kind of pissed at being woken up. So, you decided to tease him.
“Belphie, I’m sleeeeeepy. I came here to sleep.” You whined, making a show of turning around and cuddling his pillow. You knew your shorts were riding up on your thighs, hugging the curves of your ass and you wrapped your leg around the pillow.
“Better bite the pillow.” He said quickly before smacking your ass, HARD. You yelped, shoving the pillow over your mouth so as to not wake anyone.
“Belphie, what the fuck?!” You angrily whisper-shouted at him, as your body wiggled in an attempt to soothe the stinging pain. He laughed, and tugged you around so you were facing him.
“Keep acting like a brat. I can do this all night.” His amethyst eyes glinted sadistically. You pouted, but stayed quiet.
“You gonna behave?” He asked, tilting your chin so you looked up at him. Fuck, you looked so good like this. You were feisty and fiery, a general pain in the ass all the time, so knowing he could make you submit to him stroked his ego immensely.
You nodded, still pouting and he chuckled.
“Open.”
Immediately, your mouth opened and he let a glob of spit fall from his mouth on your tongue. You opened your mouth to show him your tongue for approval. He gave a short nod and you swallowed.
“Good little human.”
You rolled your eyes, though you couldn't keep from pressing your thighs together. As much as you wanted to pretend you were in control, you were playing a game with a literal demon.
"I can smell your arousal. Fuck, I'm amazed my brothers haven't come up here since you're dripping like a whore. Just because I spit in your mouth?" Belphie taunted. Your eyes narrowed and you bit your lip, before looking away.
He gripped your hair, tugging it tightly. His eyes bore into your soul.
"You wanna act like a brat? I had plans to fuck you till you cried from pleasure. And yet, you seem to just want to be punished."
He looked at the pillow that you had left tangled in his bedsheets, the pillow you had stretched your body over, taunting him. A wicked idea formed in his mind.
"You know what happens to brats like you?" He asked, yanking you to the floor. You looked up at him questioningly, a little scared but very turned on.
"Answer me, slutty human."
"N-no...I don't know." You said tentatively. He chuckled darkly.
"Naughty little brats don't get to cum on my cock. Fuck, naughty little brats may not get to cum at all."
You let out a whine, frustrated at this turn of events.
"You wanna cum? Get on your knees. Maybe if you do a good job, I'll take pity on your pathetic slutty pussy."
He pulled his cock out, slapping it against your cheek as he laughed. His cock was long and ridged, with a flared tip. Demon cocks, unlike human's, were made to fuck and breed, and you were spoiled having spent so long in the Devildom.
You parted your lips, as he slapped his member on your drooling tongue, before taking it deep into your mouth. His hands tangled in your hair as he fucked your face.
"Fuck, that's it slut. Take me down your throat. Just like that."
Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as you forced more of him down. Your jaw already ached but you kept your mouth wide, struggling not to gag on his length as his heavy balls smacked your chin. You squeezed your legs together, hoping he would take pity on you.
"Poor little human, desperate to get off. You want to ride my cock?" He asked, pulling you off his cock harshly. Strings of saliva connected the two of you. You gasped, gulping air down as you nodded.
He grabbed the pillow from the bed and threw it at you.
"Too bad. Use this. Put on a good show, and maybe I’ll fuck you.”
Your face burned with embarrassment.
“You can’t be serious.” You looked up at him. He moved his face right in front of yours, so close you could feel his warm breath on your cheek as he squeezed your face, so tightly it hurt.
“Wanna find out?”
He let go of your cheeks and shoved you back to the floor. Your eyes watered with embarrassment, shame, and yet you were so fucking turned on, you knew you would be leaving a wet patch on his pillow.
You straddled the body pillow and the slight friction of the pillow against your cunt made you whimper. You squeezed the pillow tightly between your thighs, slowly riding it, pathetic mewls falling from your mouth. You closed your eyes, trying to pretend you were in your room and not being scrutinized by the sadistic seventh-born.
“Eyes on me whore. And don’t you dare think about cumming without permission.” He smirked. You looked up at him as tears spilled down your cheeks. You wanted so badly to grind yourself on the pillow until you creamed all over it but you knew he would find more humiliating ways to torment you if you dared.
“Take off your shirt. Don’t know why the fuck you’re wearing it anyway. You’re just a fucktoy for me to use. Isn’t that right, little human?” He laughed as he sat back in a chair, watching you perform for him. He slowly palmed his cock as you pulled off your tank top, the cold air causing your nipples to harden.
“Pinch them, show me how much of a slut you are. Show me why I should even bother with you.” His hand tightened on his cock.
You wrapped your legs around the pillow tighter to hold it in just the right spot as you tugged and pinched at your breasts. Your soft moans filled the room and you knew you couldn’t last much longer like this.
“Please Belphie, c-can’t hold it in...please fuck me.” You sobbed out, your muscles tensing as you rubbed your clit against the black and white fabric. You could feel the wetness of the pillow against your thighs and knowing that your slick would be embedded in it turned you on even more.
“You can beg better than that, can’t you slut?” Belphie chuckled again, but you could see his grip tightened around the base of his cock and he was jerking himself off faster.
“Fuck...please, please let me cum. Want to cum for you, want to be your slutty fucktoy. Wanna be good for you.” You cried, biting your lip so hard you could taste blood.
“Cum.” he panted out.
Your eyes rolled back as you gushed around the soaking pillow. Your legs were squeezing it so tightly you knew you would be sore tomorrow, and you drooled out a mixture of curses and Belphie’s name as you came down from your high.
Suddenly Belphie let out a low groan and your face was hit with an explosion of warm, sticky cum. You slammed your eyes shut as he pumped load after load onto your skin. His seed spilled down your chin and dripped over your breasts.
‘Fuck, fuck MC. Fuck, I’m sorry!” Belphie breathed out, half laughing while attempting to catch his breath. You leaned back on the bed, trying to avoid getting it in your eye.
“You’re such an ass Belphie.” You whined, pouting as he cleaned you up with a towel.
After cleaning up, the two of you lay back in the bed, his head nuzzled into your chest. You ran your fingers through his dark hair humming softly.
“Hey MC.” He whispered.
“Hey yourself.” You whispered back.
The room was silent and you thought he fell asleep finally. You closed your eyes. Finally, his voice broke the calm silence.
“My pillow is gonna smell like you FOREVER.”
#belphie x reader#obey me belphie#belphegor x reader#Belphie smut#obey me smut#OBEY ME#obey me shall we date#obey me x reader#omswd#belphegor
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characters dealing with a deep sleeper! s/o (_ _)。゜zzZ
characters: bokuto, oikawa & saiki k
tw// swearing, fluff, mentions of death, illness, funerals, sexual references
Kōtarō Bokuto
he literally thought you died
this was your first time sleeping over at his home and last night, y’all were stuffing your faces with treats until your stomachs ached
you had mentioned several times how you were feeling sick - even after bokuto took you out for a late-night run - but he just told you to take a pain-killer and sleep it off
but now he was kinda regretting not calling someone to help
like what if the sickness was a symptom to a deadly disease which took you overnight?
plus, he had tried everything he could think of to wake you up: he shook you, he blasted music from his phone, he opened the curtains to allow blinding light to shine on you, he flicked spits of cold water onto your face and he literally wafted cookies around the room in hopes you’d catch the scent
but it was no use as even after all that, you didn’t move an inch
he tried to check your pulse which he believed to be on the wrist but he couldn’t think it
so either he was too stupid to find the exact location or......you didn’t have a pulse
he’ll admit, it was an eerie thought that there could be a dead person in his bed rn but even he considered that a rather outlandish idea
how could a person as healthy as you just die overnight? so he did what any reasonable person would do in that situation-- no, not call a doctor
he held a funeral for his beloved s/o 💀
he gathered all five of the plushies laying around his room (all of which were owls) and lined them up on the foot of the bed
‘we are all gathered here today to celebrate the epic life of my partner, (y/n) (l/n).’ he sobbed into the sleeve of the black blazer he had pulled out of his closet, ‘gone too soon.’
silence. but in his mind he was met by a chorus of ‘aww’s and whimpers from the crowd
‘i loved them. (y/n) was my rock; they helped me through some of the hardest points in my life--’
his speech was cut off upon hearing one of the audience members pipe up, ‘bo, what are you doing?’
a wave of excitement washed over him as he scurried up to the line of guests, closely examining each one, ‘i didn’t know y’all could talk!’
you rolled your eyes before leaning forward and gently tapping the back of his head, ‘it’s me.’
upon laying his eyes on you, healthy and alive, his lips curled into a foolishly large grin as he immediately pulled you into a tight hug, ‘(Y/N), you’re alive!’ he cried
you gasped at his rather dramatic reaction before slowly melting into his embrace, ‘yes, i am.’
as your lips parted from the skin of his jaw and he slowly let his arms fall from your waist, you finally inquired, ‘did you hold a funeral for me?’
bokuto’s eyes-widened at your ‘crazy’ suggestion, ‘uhhhh, nooooo.’
if his elongating of each word wasn’t enough to show that he was lying, the dead giveaway would have to be the sheet of A4 paper with ‘(Y/N)’S FUNERAL 😭’ written on it that was stuck to the door with blu-tac
ignoring his completely false reply, you leaned back on the bed and picked up on the owl plushies, gently stroking it’s soft fur, ��are these the guests? why are there only five?’
bokuto shrugged, picking up one himself and absentmindedly attempting to balance it on your head, ‘seven; if you count me and you.’
you giggled, about to make a inquire about the names of each guest until bokuto suddenly through his arms around you again
‘why didn’t you tell me that you are such a deep-sleeper before?! i was so worried - i thought you died! please never die on me again, (y/n)?’
you smiled, pulling back to plant a sweet kiss on his cheek, ‘i promise.’
Tōru Oikawa
he would take advantage of this opportunity lol
the first time y’all slept over together as a couple, he had no idea that you were as deep of a sleeper as you actually are
like he thought you meant ‘i sometimes sleep through my alarms’ deep-sleeper
NOT ‘IT TAKES A WHOLE NATURAL DISASTER TO WAKE ME UP IN THE MORNING’ DEEP-SLEEPER (/h)
anyway, at first, he’d probably just freshen up while you sleep: take a shower, wash his face, brush his teeth, floss etc so he’s no longer effected by that ✨morning crust ✨
but when he pokes his head out of the bathroom and noticed that your sleep asleep, he tries to blow-dry his hair bc he knows how much you like it when it’s all fluffy
but his blow-dryer was quite loud so he put it on for a few seconds to see if it’s wake you up and just as he expected, you were still sound asleep
so he blew-dry his hair until it was that soft texture that you liked so much- all while you were still like (∪.∪ )...zzz even though the blow-dryer was making a racket
you were still sleeping and upon looking at the time, he realised that it was completely fair considering it was currently half past 8 and he had just woken up extremely early for some unknown reason
he didn’t want to wake you so he was just doing to go out for a run or make breakfast until he caught a glimpse of himself in mirror
o.O
despite his puffy hair and pearly-white smile, he still looked sloppy
but it was definitely bc of his stained, torn, washed-out pyjamas tbh
he was just wearing an old T-shirt that he’s had for god-knows how long and a pair of grey sweatpants; it wasn’t a look
he had no idea what possessed him to wear such casual nightwear while you were at his house - especially when you chose to wear something so relaxed yet titillating - but he knew that he needed to change
after a while of rummaging through his nightwear drawer, the best he could find was a pair of white, silk, loose-legged trousers which he had bought for a halloween costume many years ago
it was pretty classy though :)) he was sure that you’d like it
however, he still couldn’t find anything to wear on his top half but there is no fashion problem oikawa can’t solve
thus, he went shirtless ( •̀ ω •́ )✧
he also threw on some jewellery too, just for the lols
you weren’t awake yet thought, so after he set up some candles to create a ‘mood’, he just sat next to you on the bed, scrolling on his phone and anticipating your reaction once you woke up
for a moment, he thought that he might’ve went when too far but upon taking a look at himself in his front-facing camera, he realised that there was no harm in spicing things up
once he noticed one of your eyes slowly flutter open, he quickly tossed his phone to the side and turned his body to face you, shooting you a kind smile and he gently ran a hand through his fluffy hair, ‘morning, angel~’ he cooed
you grumbled your greeting in response, then proceeded to rub your eyes to make sure you were seeing him correctly, ‘what are you wearing, tōru?’
‘can a guy not dress up for his special someone anymore?’
you rolled your eyes, playfully slapping his chest and going to hop out of bed until he pulled you back down against the sheets
a faint gasp escaped your lips but you were quickly hushed by oikawa pushing his finger against your lips, ‘you’re not going anywhere, (y/n).’
Kusuo Saiki
this was the first time you ever slept over at his house or next to him yet y’all had been dating for year and a half
he was just scared that he might accidently do something crazy in his sleep (bc of his powers ofc) and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you 🥺
you were patient with him though but bc y’all had never woken up together before, he had no idea how deep of a sleeper you are
he thought it was cute at first bc you were laying there like the beauty you are, lookin’ all serene and calm and stuff
but after a while, he got bored on his own #•̀ ︿ •́
also, you promised to bake macarons with him for breakfast and he was hungry as hell, still he didn’t want to eat without you but if he didn’t wake you up rn to make macarons, he’d surely starve to death while they were in the fridge
on any other day, he’d just try do it himself but when you helped him make food- it just hit different 😍
‘(y/n), wake up.’ he spoke into your mind using his telepathy, while light nudging your arm, ‘i’m hungry.’
you didn’t reply, seeming completely knocked out
he tried the next best thing, holding his annoying alarm noise near (but not too close) to your ear
still nothing, though
his last human attempt was aggressively pulling your blanket away but even after that you showed no signs of waking up so he realised that he’d have to resort to using his physic abilities
he considered using his astral projection to possess your body but he felt as though taking over your body might cross a few boundaries
but he did try duplicating himself so he could shake you from many different angles but it was still no use
he continued to use his telepathy to try wake you up but it didn’t seem to work either
after multiple different attempts of using his powers to try wake you up; here he was, standing in the middle of some dystopian, apocalyptic scene - alarms ringing in the distant along with sirens, screaming, honking and wails. everything around him seemed to be engulfed by flames which created thick, smoky air
he wasn’t really sure how he got here but he was pretty sure it started around the time he tried to form an energy ball
whatever 🤷♂️ it’s no biggie
he jumped back in time so he was standing next to your bed once again, exactly where he left off before he created the energy ball
he stared down at your sleeping figure and let out an exasperated sigh as he realised that he’d have to employ one of his most dangerous tactics
he really hoped it didn’t have to come to this
‘(y/n), if you get up right now.’ his voice rung through your head, ‘i speak with my voice.’
just like that, both of your eyes shot open as you hastily sat up on the bed
‘do it, saiki!’ you cheered, a foolishly large grin plastered on your features
and he couldn’t help but smile too
curse you for being so cute
#bokuto#haikyuu x gender neutral reader#oikawa x you#oikawa x y/n#bokuto x reader#bokuto fluff#saiki k x reader#saiki x y/n#saiki x reader#saiki fluff#oikawa torū#oikawa x reader#haikyuu x gn!reader#bokuto x y/n#bokuto x you#oikawa fluff#oikawa scenarios#kusou saiki#oikawa tooru#kōtarō bokuto
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[8:45 pm] f s
written for daisy lol
oral (fem rec), hand job, penetration, spit kink, light degrading kink, a singular pussy slap
jeno rubbed your sides and rested his chin on your shoulder. you brought your hand back to rub his cheek.
“hi baby.”
today was one of the rare times he came home while you were awake. usually he would be away until ungodly hours of the night.
you turn around to face him. his eyes are soft and full of love. a small smile adorning his lips. you kiss his nose and he scrunches his face.
“hi” he says.
you pull him into a hug. you stay there for a while, basking in each others embrace.
“how are you?”
he sighs into your neck.
“good now that i’m with you”
you push him away playfully.
“cheesy,” you muttered.
you decided to watch a movie. jeno was in the kitchen getting snacks. you chose a random romance movie and laid on the couch. jeno flopped on top of you, head laying on your chest. you giggled and ran your fingers through his hair.
“clingy” you tease
he groans and kisses your collar bone.
“only for you”
you wrap your arms around his neck. he cuddles closer to you.
jeno was fast asleep on top of you, his leg between yours. the sex scene on the screen was bad and cheesy, but it still made you a little hot and bothered. you imagined jeno doing some of those things to you. the male character kissed down the female characters stomach. jeno liked doing that. it made you impatient and he loved to call you out on that.
you wiggle your hips around on instinct. he groaned softly, reminding you he was still there. you thought about waking him up, he’d be happy to help you. you thought about it for a while, pushing your hips into his leg. he furrowed his eyebrows and held you tighter. his head buried in you neck. his breath on your skin caused your body to erupt in goosebumps. you slide your fingers in his hair and pull softly.
“jeno...”
he groans.
“hm?”
his voice is deeper because of his nap, which turned you on even more. he blinked slowly.
“i need you.”
you knew he wouldn’t mind at all, but you still felt bad for waking him up. your voice was softer than usual due to embarrassment. you literally just woke your boyfriend up because you were horny.
he hums again, processing your words. he smiled against your neck.
“need me how.”
he was teasing you. he was definitely awake now. he pressed long kisses into your neck. you bring your hips up to his leg. he laughs softly and moves his knee to your core. you gasp at the increase in pressure.
“go ahead...”
he says, tilting his lips up to your ear.
“grind on me like the dirty slut you are.”
you moan at his words and buck your hips into his leg. he brought his kisses to the front of your neck, tilting your chin back to reach more skin. he sucks a bruise right under your jaw.
he moves down your body. he looks at you and tugs on your pants. you lift your hips up so he can take them off. he threw them somewhere on the floor. he slides a finger up your clothed slit. you move around needily.
“jeno please.”
“aw... my baby got all wet because of a movie...”
he leans up and strokes your face before lightly smacking it.
“so dirty”
you whine and he pouts at you.
“if you’re gonna act like a dirty slut, i’m gonna treat you like one. open.”
he taps your cheek and you open your mouth, tongue stretching out. he spits in it. you look at him and swallow. he smirks and kisses your nose.
“good girl...”
he presses his lips against yours. the kiss was messy and full of need. one of his hands snaked down your body, squeezing your boob. he plays with your nipple through your shirt. you moan into his mouth.
“jeno...”
your lips were tingly from kissing so hard. he gives you a sweet peck.
“what?”
you push your hips up into his leg.
“please”
whatever sweetness that was left in him vanished, his eyes pooling with lust. he slides down your body until his face is level with your heat. he kisses up your thighs, biting when you complain. if felt like the torture went on forever.
“jeno please!” you whined.
he tsks.
“baby... even dirty whores know to be patient.”
you whimper as he smirks and continues teasing your thighs. you buck your hips up and he holds them down.
“i told you...”
he slaps your core.
“... to be patient.”
you whine loudly. you mumble something along the lines of ‘that hurt’
he slides your panties over and sticks his tongue against you, barely tasting you. he licks a stripe up your slit. you exhale shakily. his tongue prods at your entrance for a while before finally pushing his way in. you moan loudly at the feeling of his tongue fucking you. your hands drop to his hair, pulling hard when he moves around.
he pulls his tongue out and licks his way up to your clit, taking it in his mouth. he looks up at you before sucking softly. you push against his face. he laughs, sending vibrations up your body. he sucks hard and then soft and then hard again, it was making you crazy.
he thought you were cute like this, pleading with him to make you cum. looking all blissed out, lips bruised.
you were practically begging at this point, whining about how bad you wanted to cum and how good he was making you feel. he taught you well. he sighed and lifted his head.
“baby. do you think deserve you deserve to cum?”
you nod furiously.
“are you sure? you woke me up from my nap because you were needy... is that what good girls do?”
“yeah. only bad girls keep it to themselves”
you pouted. you got him there. he shakes his head and goes back down to finish you off. you shudder as a wave of pleasure washes over you. he kisses your thigh sweetly. he goes to hover over you. you smile and him and he smiles back, kissing your forehead.
“baby, are you okay?”
you nod.
“yeah. that felt really good. thank you”
he kisses your cheek.
“are you okay for another round?”
you smirk at him.
“always.”
you smash your lips together. this kiss was sweeter than the last one. you push him into a sitting position and place yourself on his lap. you bite his lip, he groans.
“baby... you know what happens when you tease me.”
you giggle and do it again. his grip on your waist tightens. he pulls away from you.
“be bratty i dare you.”
his eyes were dark and sadistic. you knew how he would act if you continued. you thought about if you wanted to cum again. you pouted.
“fine.”
he smiles, eyes still piercing through you. you pull his cock out of his pants, spitting on your other hand. you pump him slowly. you spit on him and rub you palm over his tip. he groans. you jerk him off faster.
“mm baby. this is nice but i wanna to fuck you.”
you nod and line yourself up, sliding down his cock carefully. you hiss at the stretch. you sit for a little bit before digging your feet into the couch. you move your hips up and and let them fall back down. you both moan. you pick up the speed.
“fuck. you’re doing so good for a dirty slut.”
you moan at his words, determined to go faster. his hands flew to your hips, guiding you along his cock. he adjusted so he’d hit your most sensitive spot.
“fuck!” you cried
it felt so fucking good. you went faster, chasing your release. your thighs burned but the beautiful sounds jeno was making egged you on. you clench around him, he moans loudly.
“fuck y/n i’m close.”
you whine out a ‘me too’. his grip on your hips gets tighter. he stops you and lifts you up. he fucks into you, repeatedly hitting your sensitive spot. you whimper loudly, on the brink of your release. you can’t even from words as you reach euphoria. jeno finishes shortly after you.
you’re both panting as you sit on him. you slowly lift your hips up, taking him out of you and putting him back in his sweatpants. you sit on his thighs and lay into his chest.
his breathing calms down and he kisses your head, wrapping his arms around your waist.
“you did so good for me baby.”
you sigh into his chest. you felt nice. you came twice and jeno was holding you. finally. it felt like months since he had time for intimacy. you cuddled as much as you could when he was there, but it wasn’t ever anything long like this. you kiss his skin and sit up. he smiles at you.
“did you have fun?”
you nod and kiss him softly, your lips molding together. you felt so good every time you kissed him. you were deprived recently, and he was finally making up for it.
he pulled away and you chased his lips he chuckled and kissed you again.
“so needy” he teased
you groan and bite his lip. he laughs and pulls you into a hug. he kisses your ear.
“i love you baby.”
you smile widely.
“i love you too.”
///
@1-800-jaehyun here’s ur jeno spit kink lmao no but seriously i love u guys so much. whenever u like/reblog my shit i get so happy pls. i hope every single one of u have a good day. <3
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I turn and reach for you
Summary: Three months after Hankel, Spencer starts getting terrible nightmares that keep him up at night. He tries desperately to keep his secret until one day when it's all too much to bear anymore. Luckily, Derek Morgan is there to hold him together as he falls apart.
Tags: nightmares, hurt/comfort, ptsd, angst with a happy ending, fluff, literal sleeping together, getting together, post-revelations TW: past non-con drug use mentioned once in passing
Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid
Word Count: 2.1k
Masterlist // Read on AO3 // Bad Things Happen Bingo
This feels the "Nightmares" square on my Bad Things Happen bingo card, and was written for this prompt by @i-write-whump. Title from a poem by Devon Strang.
After Spencer is kidnapped by Tobias Hankel, he stays with Derek. Nobody on the team wants him to be alone, and he’s always felt the most comfortable with him, so it makes sense. Besides, he’s got the space.
Spencer sometimes wonders whether the team pushed so hard for it because they genuinely believed that, logistically, Derek was the best option, or because they could also see the slow-burning romance simmering under the surface of their relationship. They’ve always had a special friendship, but Spencer can feel the growing tension: the deep and intense looks they share mid-case, the lingering touches on backs and arms, the affection leaking into each ‘pretty boy’ and every ‘Der’.
Perhaps if Hankel never came into the picture they’d already be together — it really had felt like they were on the precipice of something special — but it’s three months later and Spencer’s still sleeping in the spare room; there’s still just as much will they, won’t they lingering in the air between them.
He tries not to mind too much. After all, he’s never had so much free access to the man he’s pined after for years now, and they’re living in each other’s pockets. Almost every waking hour is spent in one another’s company: they cook together, eat together, watch films together, and neither of them are showing any sign of getting sick of it. But every time they’re cooking pasta and Derek says something ridiculous, Spencer wishes he was allowed to lean in and kiss the tip of his nose; every time they sit down to watch something together, he wishes he could burrow into his side and rest his head in the crook of his neck.
(Sometimes, Spencer wishes he could rewind to the weeks immediately after the Hankel incident when Derek would carry him around the flat to keep him off his broken feet; when he could press his face into his shoulder and inhale the scent of complete and utter safety.)
It’s almost torturous, being so close yet so far.
He isn’t quite sure why the nightmares start so late. The nights during the first couple of months are blissfully dreamless, so exhausted from the physical and emotional trauma that sleep was a tantalising escape, but once he’s back in the field, once normal life resumes, everything changes.
The first time he wakes up sweating and panting, heart pounding as he tries to convince himself that he’s no longer in Hankel’s clutches but is safe and sound in Derek’s apartment, he dismisses it as a one-off. He hasn’t had nightmares yet, so why should they start now? He doesn’t go back to sleep that night, too shaken to relax back into the comforting embrace of sleep, too afraid of deception: that he wouldn’t sleep dreamlessly but that the nightmare would be waiting for him once again.
The second time worries him. He gets up this time and gets a glass of water as quietly as possible, leaning with his back against the kitchen counter as he ponders what this could mean for him. The thing is, they’re so incredibly vivid. It really feels like he’s back at the mercy of a three-in-one torturer armed with drugs and belts and guns, genuinely unsure of whether he’ll ever see his family again. He doesn’t go back to sleep this time, either, instead pacing around the living room until Derek wakes up. He lies that he’s only been up for half an hour, and Derek believes him.
The third time solidifies for Spencer the fact that this is a problem. Three is a pattern, everybody knows that, and Spencer spends the rest of the night scouring the internet for studies conducted around delayed trauma responses and discovers the prevalence of delayed-onset PTSD. He’s tempted to contact a professor he met during his third PhD who specialised in the psychology of trauma, but he thinks better of it. Admitting these nightmares would be admitting defeat.
This is something he has to deal with alone.
(He ignores the truth that it’s more fear than anything else that keeps him from telling anyone: fear of being seen as weak, fear of nothing changing, fear of voicing his trauma out loud. It’s easier to pretend it’s about independent agency.)
It doesn’t affect him too much at first. Sure, he’s scared to go to sleep and he sweats so profusely that it soaks through his bedsheets almost every night, but he’s managing. He’s okay. He contributes just as much to their profiles and takes down unsubs without flinching. He dances around Derek like they have done for over a year, and he sits through Dr Who marathons with Penelope just fine. So what if he’s a bit tired? He’s stared down some of America’s Most Wanted and interviewed famous serial killers, he can cope with a little fatigue.
It doesn’t stay that easy for long.
Soon everybody’s asking about the bags under his eyes, his slower reaction times when they visit the gun range, his twitchiness around the team.
“Are you sleeping okay, Spencer?” Penelope asks him one day, brushing a curly lock of hair behind his ears as they sit side by side on the sofa next to a conked out Derek.
He can’t nod his head quick enough. “Yeah! Yes, uh. Yes, Penelope, I’m sleeping fine, I promise,” he says as convincingly as he can, flashing her a smile. He hates lying to her, but he can’t let anyone find out, he just can’t.
Slowly, he begins losing his grip on reality. He’s almost delusional from the sleep deprivation, and he starts seeing Hankel everywhere he goes. He’s stood behind the fridge door, in the foyer of the FBI Headquarters, in the toilets of a local police station, stood right behind the unsub they’re currently trying to talk down, goddamnit.
He’s beyond exhausted, but some nights he still refuses to sleep, too afraid of what awaits him in his dreams, too afraid of the fear he knows he’ll carry into the next day, too afraid of feeling weak again. Helpless. Completely and utterly without agency.
He sits up with his back against the headboard, the main light off but the lamp switched on, scrolling through as many scholarly articles as he can read in a night, drinking cup after cup of steaming black coffee. Most nights he makes it through till morning without sleeping a wink, but sometimes he can’t stop himself from drifting off The nightmares on those nights are the worst.
He isn’t okay and people are starting to notice. Everyone’s walking on eggshells around him right now, but he knows it won’t be long before Penelope organises an intervention that Hotch hosts and Derek directs. The worst part about it is that he feels like a trainwreck waiting to happen. He’s headed straight for complete and utter collapse, and the only possible way to stop the train in its tracks is to reach out and get help, the one thing he can’t get himself to do.
And he isn’t even really sure why.
It all comes to a head on a warm night in July. He’d fallen into bed that night deliberately, actually intending to sleep for once. The bone-deep tiredness had finally caught up to him and he didn’t even care that he was walking straight into the arms of Tobias Hankel, if it meant he got even an iota of refreshing sleep, then it would be worth it.
But he isn’t quite of the same mind when he wakes up at two in the morning like he does almost every night: soaked in sweat with his heart going a million beats per minute, with only one difference. Tonight, he’s crying.
Maybe it’s the emotional turmoil of the last few months catching up to him, or maybe it’s just the severity of this particular dream, but whatever it is, he can’t seem to stop even once he’s awake. Sobs wrack his shoulders as he cries miserably into the pillow, finally letting out the emotions he’s kept bottled up so tightly, and he’s almost wailing after a couple of minutes of anguish.
All he can think as he cries helplessly is how badly he wants Derek. He wants to be wrapped up in his strong and safe embrace, he wants to feel the movement of his soft goatee against his cheek, he wants to inhale the comforting scent of his sleep t-shirts, he wants the warmth and solace that only Derek Morgan can give him, and in that moment, emotionally distraught and so incredibly sleep-deprived, he decides to get it.
He stumbles out of his bedroom and down the hall, stopping once he reaches Derek’s door. He hesitates for only a second before he pushes it open slowly, allowing the light from the lamp they keep switched on in the hallway to gently illuminate the shadows of his bedroom.
“Spencer?” Derek asks groggily, immediately sitting up and wiping his eyes. “What’s wrong? Are you crying?”
At the acknowledgement of his tears, Spencer starts to cry harder, and as embarrassed as he feels, he can’t slow the steady stream of tears rolling down his face as he stands in the doorway like a child in their parents’ room.
“Spence,” Derek says again, gentle and sympathetic, “come here.” He lifts the duvet up and scooches over slightly as if to make room for him in his already spacious king-size bed.
He doesn’t need to be told twice, though, and he stumbles forward, collapsing into bed and wrapping himself around Derek instantly. His arms come up to circle Spencer’s waist, caressing him gently as he holds him close to his body, shushing him quietly.
“It’s okay, Spence,” he murmurs. “I’m here now, alright? We’re gonna fix whatever it is, I promise you. We’ll get through this. You’ll get through this.”
He lets himself cry and cry and cry until his tears are dried up and he’s hiccupping from the force of his sobs. He would feel terrible about the damp spot left on Derek’s t-shirt, but he simply doesn’t have the energy. Instead, he continues to lie there on Derek’s chest, listening to his softly spoken assurances and losing himself in the sensation of Derek’s fingertips caressing the skin of his waist.
After a couple of minutes of silence, interrupted only by the odd hiccup from Spencer’s tired lungs, Derek finally asks the question. “What was that all about, pretty boy?” he asks with a tenderness Spencer isn’t sure he’s ever heard before. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Been having nightmares,” Spencer whispers, keeping his eyes closed against Derek’s imploring gaze.
He feels Derek tense beneath him, his fingers briefly pausing before resuming their comforting patterns on his waist, and a heavy breath escapes his lips. “For how long?”
“Last couple of months,” he mumbles, and somehow another tear manages to escape Spencer’s screwed up eyes.
“Well,” Derek sighs, “I suppose that explains a lot. We’ve been so worried about you, Spencer. We had no idea what was going on but we could all see you withdrawing, and it wasn’t exactly a secret how exhausted you were.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry,” Derek says sadly. “I should’ve pushed harder to figure out what was going on with you. I’m so sorry you’ve had to deal with this all alone.”
“I didn’t know how to tell anyone,” Spencer says, suddenly desperate to explain as he shifts slightly to look Derek in the eye. “I was so scared and I didn’t want anyone to think that I was weak or I couldn’t do my job anymore, and I just didn’t know what to do.”
“I know, Spence,” Derek says soothingly, “but you’ve told me now, haven’t you? And I’m going to do everything I can to get you some help. We’ll fix this, baby. I promise you, I’m going to make sure you’re happy and healthy again if it’s the last thing I do, okay?”
Spencer sniffs a little, wiping tiredly at his eyes as he blinks up at the sincerity on Derek’s face. For the first time in far too long he manages a smile. “Okay.”
Derek runs a hand through his hair before dropping a kiss to the top of his head. “Do you want to sleep here tonight?”
Spencer’s smile widens and he buries his face in Derek’s chest again as his cheeks flush red. “Please.”
Months later, they’ll realise they never officially asked one another to be in an actual, exclusive relationship. Months later, they’ll know instinctively and with absolute certainty that this night was the night that changed everything for them, and exactly one year later, they’ll celebrate their first anniversary on that date.
Tonight, though, they sleep curled up next to one another in Derek’s bed, and although Spencer doesn’t fall into the same dreamless sleep he grew used to immediately after Hankel, for once he isn’t haunted by nightmares, but dreams inflected with hope for what the future holds for them, and he’ll take that over dreamlessness any day.
taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @lesbiantodds @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @livrere-blue @hotchseyebrows @enbyspencer @reidology @transhanniballecter @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @ @marsjareau @garcias-bitch @oliverbrnch @im-autistic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids @ropoto @thosecriminalminds (add yourself to my taglist)
#my writing#moreid#derek#spencer#derek morgan#criminal minds#spencer reid#moreid fic#moreid fanfic#moreid fanfiction#cm#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfic#derek morgan/spencer reid#derek morgan x spencer reid#spencer reid/derek morgan#spencer reid x derek morgan#userpenemily
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the truth in vulnerability | miya a.
synopsis: your husband has a habit of crying, ever since he laid himself bare to you. your daughter, on the other hand just liked to poke fun for it at times. atsumu never minds, and you know that, though.
characters: miya atsumu, you, your daughter
genre: fluff, domestic!au, parenting!au
wc: 1300+
a/n: welp i lost my shit at this r we surprised.
if somebody told miya atsumu that he’d be married before thirty with a sassy daughter that has him saying yes to her every whim without any sense of hesitation from his part, he’d laugh them off and compliment them maybe at their brave attempt at a joke.
but of course, because life was interesting like that—here he is, at twenty eight years old, waking up with his two girls in his life that bring him all the joys of the world with just their smile. the girls in question, of course, being you—his wife—and your four year old daughter whose giggle greets him right by the door everyday he comes home.
atsumu thinks that this must be the kind of love people fight wars for. the love he found in you, even as years had come and passed, still feels like day one. it’s still you, he thinks to himself. because no one else has come close to making his heart skip all those beats he thinks it probably shouldn’t be skipping.
you’re the face he greets every morning, the lips he kisses that tastes like your favorite flavored coffee without fail, and the eyes that watch him with a specific sort of tenderness atsumu just knows he can spot from even a mile away.
so throughout the years, because your hand was always outstretched, he has no shame in taking it.
vulnerability wasn’t so daunting with you, he thinks. the formerly impossible is the frankly the daily scenario he lives nowadays.
and to think that he used to cry in isolation because of it before, atsumu laughs to himself. there was a certain level of intimacy, he thinks he’s learned to feel when it came to you. the first time he let himself go, it was after a lost game.
you sat next to him in the car, the both of you in silence and frankly a little unsure of which direction to steer the conversation in. the situation—it being shit—is here to stay, atsumu thinks. the fact of the matter that he lost and a second chance being in the horizon for him were low. and it’s frustrating, because loss is frustrating for that; his reality and the truth he tries so hard to push down was that he cared too goddamn much about the loss.
but because vulnerability was a stranger to him then, he chose not to cry. instead, he tapped at the steering wheel and messed with the settings on the gps for a seemingly infinite number of times before it was you who snapped and told him to quit being a fucking child and just cry if you’re so goddamn frustrated.
and like that hairline crack on the damn finally spreading, he breaks. he knew the cracks have been there this whole time, building up from the moment he missed his serve to the very last second where he couldn’t even receive the fucking ball.
“switch seats with me,” he hears you say and atsumu’s surprised that his shoulders didn’t flinch even if your demand did come out of the blue.
on the ride home, he watched the burnt orange sky roll past him slowly, eyes a little stung with tears, voice still sort of scratchy from crying, and body heavy and spent after realizing that he’s carried the weight of his world this whole time.
but he recalls the look on your face from that afternoon as clear as day. he remembers the feel of your eyes as you checked on him at every red light; the feel of your hand squeezing his still a comfort to his heart up till this very day.
-
because, atsumu thinks, to cry in front of another wasn’t a show of vulnerability or weakness.
it was a show of trust.
so ever since then, he ceased to hold back and just cried.
at your yes and “i do,” the two lines on the pregnancy test he rushed to the pharmacy for when it was eight in the morning and he was already thirty minutes late to work that day, and at the day he met his daughter.
because trust, is what he wants to win from her at some point in her life too. atsumu thinks that even as he cries in front of his daughter, from her little achievements to the big. the yucky boys that tried to touch the braids her mommy did for her, and her kindergarten graduate picture where she beamed with a smile that looked like yours and his despite one tooth still missing on the left side of the upper row.
you, atsumu thinks, is what gave him life and showed him the lessons he’s been denying himself of all those years ago. your daughter, on the other hand was what ignited the passion in him to go forth and show others life too.
and because atsumu is as much of a sap as osamu used to tease him for, he keeps the little memories in the forms of photographs and home videos.
her first word, your first smile on april 16th, the first time she stood on her own two little feet and walked towards you. atsumu thinks you can hear him sniffle from behind the camera in every video—but he doesn’t really care, truth be told.
because who wouldn’t? who wouldn’t cry if you had life’s greatest literally in front of you and yours?
-
“daddy why crying?” you hear your daughter ask out of the blue.
it’s a little over 9pm, an hour already past her bedtime, but the three of you are buckled in the car at the mcdonald’s parking lot a few minutes away from home instead. atsumu has a faraway look on his face, and the slight tremble of his lip gives away the fact that he’s probably on the brink of tears—again.
you snort, but choose to stay quiet. your daughter, seated in the back is wearing the queen elsa’s party dress your husband had bought for her just a few hours ago at the mall earlier. she could have cried for him then, insisting to change right then and there so the whole world could know she was a princess.
you, of course, said yes, but when she raised her little hands and demanded for her daddy—her king—to escort her and open the door to the car, you could already tell that some waterworks were to be expected tonight.
but it came a little early, you think to yourself, because the second she covered atsumu’s mouth at the counter as you ordered earlier and sounded out her orders of “chiccy nuggy and choccy milk,” atsumu’s first tear of the night streaked down his cheeks in the car that night.
“daddy isn’t crying,” he’s quick to tell her though, and your daughter hums in a way that tells him she isn’t exactly convinced.
“it okay to cry, though,” you hear her pipe from the back, followed by an exaggerated slurp of her chocolate milk.
“yeah, listen to your daughter,” you laugh.
atsumu shoots you an exasperated look through teary eyes, but it only fuels your laughter. just like that you’re struck with the thought that in this life, and in this now, you’ve never felt a love as grand and as nurturing as this. atsumu, next to you, takes out the tissues he’s been keeping in the car now and blows his nose, waving your daughter off who giggles in the back because of it.
“mommy take a videeeoooooo, daddy looks funny,” you hear her again, and you throw your head back and laugh a bit.
you know the memory on your phone is probably filled by now, but one more captured moment can’t hurt, right?
#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x reader fluff#hq#hq!!#hq scenarios#hq fluff#hq x reader#miya atsumu#miya atsumu fluff#miya atsumu x reader#miya atsumu scenarios#miya atsumu imagines#miya atsumu x reader fluff#atsumu#atsumu x reader#atsumu scenarios#atsumu fluff#atsumu imagines#atsumu x reader fluff#tsuna
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red light, green light
If there’s one thing that being with Aran Ojiro has taught you, it’s the importance of trust.
wc: 2.2k
tags/tw's(PLEASE READ): explicit n*fw, noncon, very unhealthy portrayal of bdsm dynamics, bondage, breathplay bc deepthroat, bratty/switchy!reader at the start turns into sub!reader, blowjob, penetration, fem!reader with inner genitals
a/n: written for @fallensvint's collab!! not proofread,, ill get to it later
i don’t want minors interacting with my content
The first time he’d wrapped those ties around your wrist, smooth and silky and surprisingly secure, you’d stared at him with confusion.
“Aran,” you mumbled. “What’s our safeword?”
He smiled, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. “Don’t you trust me?”
You’d been a bit apprehensive in the beginning, but as it turned out, he was right.
Every time he fucked you after that, every time he bound your wrists and spanked you until your ass glowed red - he always knew when to stop. It was as if he had some kind of sixth sense, a magic ability to read every twitch of your hips and crease of your brows, all the subtle signs that laid bare your inner thoughts and feelings. He knew when to give you more, when to slow down, when to stop entirely.
All you had to do was to close your eyes and let him take over. It felt easy. It felt right.
You suppose it made sense, too. He was a little older, a little wiser, and much more experienced. He knew what he was doing, and he was the one who showed you the ropes - quite literally. Aran knew how to tie all sorts of different knots, square knots and half-hitches and lark’s heads, letting you watch with your eyes blown wide as he threaded the rope into intricate patterns.
Still, at the end of the day, your favorite toy would always be the silk ties he’d first used. They had this allure to them, this magnetic pull that radiated out from the box in which he kept them. And when he used them to bind your wrists nice and tight, deft hands working quickly as the silk slid across your skin, your mind would always blur into a thick haze of arousal and want that left your cunt dripping with heat.
Sex was always better when he tied you up.
He didn’t have to hold you down, because the ties did the work for him, the restraints leaving your mind fogged up with submission, every thought wiped clean except the urge to be a good girl for him. It made him lose his fucking mind to see your doe eyes peering up through the lashes, begging oh-so-sweetly for him to fuck you. And since you always asked so nicely, he’s more than happy to oblige you.
He pounds his cock into your tight, quivering little hole, hips snapping relentlessly, each drag of this dick against your slick, sensitive walls coaxing a squeal from your lips, your cunt fluttering pathetically as pleasure starts to twist in your gut. You’d never deny how good it felt to be fucked stupid while tied up.
But there was more to your little obsession with his silk ties than just that.
There was some small part of you, some unexplainable compulsion, hidden beneath your sweet cries and high-pitched whimpers, that wanted to find out what Aran would look like if he was on the receiving end of things.
You wanted to see what he’d do.
_
It happens on a Saturday morning.
He’s exhausted from a full week of work - the volleyball season is in full swing again, and it always takes him some time to readjust, even if he doesn’t normally sleep in. It’s rare that you wake up earlier than him.
And maybe the alcohol you’d been drinking last night hadn’t worn off entirely, or maybe you were just feeling a little bold that day, a little impulsive, because you take one look at his sleeping form before you reach under the bed for his little box of toys. Sure, you hadn’t exactly discussed this with him beforehand - but he’d done similar things to you before: tied you up without warning, tried different positions in the middle of sex, little things here and there that were never really expected. The surprise was just supposed to be part of the fun, right?
The soft light of early morning filters in through the windows and sets his skin aglow. He looks so at peace when he’s asleep, so calm, the lines in his forehead and the bags under his eyes melting as he dozes away.
There’s not so much as a twitch from him as you tie his wrists together.
You pull aside the comforter, crawling on top of him until your face is inches away from his clothed cock. He looks so good like this - so handsome - the outline of his dick pressing up near his thigh, his toned legs exposed to the cold morning air. You press soft kisses along his inner thigh, trailing your lips up and down the shaft of his cock, dragging the tip of your tongue against the fabric.
There’s a soft rustling noise, and you feel him shift beneath you. “Babe?” he mumbles, voice thick with sleep.
You giggle nervously. “Good morning, Aran.”
“What are you doing?”
You blink up at him through your lashes and pull down his boxers. His cock springs out - it’s half-hard already, the tip slightly swollen, and you trail a finger over the leaking slit.
“Nice way to wake up, I won’t lie,” he says, sighing happily. He shifts slightly, as if trying to get up - and freezes.
You feel his body tense up, thighs flexing as you flick your tongue along his length.
“What happened to my hands?”
Your heart rate spikes. His voice is a bit more measured now, a bit more controlled, an underlying warning threaded through every word.
“Did you tie me up?” he asks, soft and dangerous.
You’re too flustered to make eye contact with him any longer, ducking away under his gaze. You nod hesitantly. His cock strains, twitching slightly, and you wrap your velvet lips around the head, taking him into your warm, wet, mouth with a pop.
“You better get these restraints off right fucking now.”
His outburst startles you. You weren’t expecting such a strong reaction, but the anger that undercuts his words is clear as day. If you untie him now, you know you’ll be in for a hell of an extremely unpleasant ride, one that might end with your ass blooming with bruises and face stained with tears.
For the first time since you’d gotten with Aran, the emotion that seeps into your veins isn’t excitement.
It’s fear.
You stay mute, bringing your hands up to scratch lightly across his thigh, drawing a groan from his chest. Your cunt pulses involuntarily at the noise he makes.
Maybe if you make him cum hard enough, he’ll forgive you.
It’s this faint, stupid, hope that makes you stretch your throat around his cock, trying to fit as much of him in as possible, lips bulging as you drool and slobber around him. It’s messy, pathetic - but your goal isn’t to preserve your dignity. It’s to make him feel good enough to let this slide.
“Feels so fuckin’ good, sweetheart,” he breathes, hips bucking upwards, cock sliding in further past your swollen, shiny, lips.
Maybe your strategy would even work.
You bob up and down, working his cock until it grows rock-hard against your tongue, the head pulsing and throbbing in your mouth, your tongue tracing along the underside of each vein. Precum dribbles down your throat, salty and slick, and you swallow eagerly. Your mind grows hazy as you slide yourself further down onto his dick, the up-and-down, back-and-forth motion intoxicating as he fills up every sense you have with his taste, his scent, the sight of his abs flexing as he strains against your mouth. You feel a hand slide to rest on top of your head, and you melt.
The expression on your face when the realization finally hits is too fucking precious.
You pull off of his cock, a string of drool still hanging from the corner of your lips, eyes darting around frantically. The silk bindings that you’d wrapped around his wrists lie in tatters on the bed, all torn and ripped, and Aran stretches leisurely.
“Why’d you stop?” he asks, the barest hint of a grin in his voice. “I didn’t say that you could stop.”
He leans forward, grabbing onto the top of your head, and drags you back to him until your lips are grazing the tip of his cock again. Disappointment is etched onto his features, but it’s a strange, twisted sort of disappointment - his eyes glitter, his pupils dilating - almost as if he’s giddy that you’d messed up and made a fool of yourself.
“Please,” you whimper. “D-don’t-”
“You know what happens to bad girls, don’t you?” he asks gravely, shaking his head. “Bad girls get punished. Don’t complain if you get what you deserve.”
With that, he forces your mouth back onto his dick, but with the help of his insistent hands, you’re able to take him even deeper than you were before. Your throat burns red and raw as he shoves your little mouth as deep as possible on his cock, gorging you on his thick, swollen length, impaling you on his dick until your eyes begin to tear up.
“Need to breathe,” you mumble, but your words are barely coherent with your mouth stuffed so full. The only noise that comes through are your small, desperate moans, and the little gagging noises from the back of your throat.
“What’s that?” he asks, nonchalant. “Didn’t hear you properly, baby. Speak up.”
It’s at this point that panic begins to flood your veins. Your head hurts from how hard he’s gripping it, a dull, throbbing ache that leaves tears trickling down your face. You’re not sure he’s going to relent any time soon, either, because Aran seems dead set on making sure he sees your punishment through, even if it means leaving your jaw sore and tender for days. A haze begins to settle over your brain from the lack of oxygen, black spots creeping into the edges of your vision -
You lose it.
"Red," you scream against his cock. "Red." You faintly remember reading somewhere that this was the word that meant stop, the one that was used when things went to far.
"I'm not sure what that means, baby."
“Please, Aran,” you cry. “I’m serious. Stop. Stop. I’m not kidding.”
Your chest heaves uncontrollably with your sobs, tears and drool mixing as slick drips down his shaft and onto his fat balls. The words you want to get out aren’t really coming through, but you keep trying, slobbering all around his dick as your muffled moans vibrate against his crotch.
He sighs. “Alright, alright. You’re a bit softer than I thought.”
His words send a pang of hurt through your chest - you’d tried your hardest, and wasn’t that enough? - but it’s pure relief that floods into your veins when he finally drags you off of his cock. You gasp for air, wheezing and coughing as oxygen finally floods into your lungs.
You look pretty, he thinks. A bit like a drowned kitten, with your lashes wet, your hair messed up, and lips all bitten and swollen and leaking with drool.
It makes his cock twitch against his stomach.
He flips you over onto the bed, pinning your wrists down, and lines the tip of his cock up so it prods at your entrance. “Ready?” he asks.
And to be honest, you’re not, but at least he’s stopped choking you with his cock. Maybe you should be grateful for that.
When he pushes his cockhead past your tight, clenched pussy lips, it’s unbearably slow. It leaves your insides aching, raw and needy, even when the drag of his dick against your slick, ribbed, walls stops, even when he’s bottomed out and his balls are tapping gently against your cunt. He fucks you slow and deep, pushing up against your g-spot, breaking you apart on his cock until you’re sobbing again for an entirely different reason.
This is punishment, remember?
It feels like hours have gone by before that familiar wave of pleasure begins to build steadily in your core. Every thrust of his hips leaves you reeling, eyes rolling back into your head, fingers fisting at the bedsheets - but he’s still fucking you so slowly it hurts. Your cunt clenches uselessly, greedy and desperate, as if it’s trying to keep him buried inside you, and it draws a breathy chuckle from his lips.
“Close?” he asks, pulling his cock out almost all the way.
You nod eagerly and buck your hips up. You don’t really care if you look stupid or pathetic, because all you want right now is for him to speed up his maddeningly slow pace, to fuck you until you’re drooling into the mattress.
He pushes back in, snapping his hips harshly, and you squeal - you’re right on the precipice, your orgasm building and coiling tight in your gut, the walls of your cunt cinching around his cock like a vice -
He pulls out.
You’re silent for a few seconds, brain still too hazy to comprehend what he’s doing, but then you hear him speak, voice low and rough, and you shiver.
“Bad girls don’t get to cum.”
#haikyuu smut#aran smut#haikyuu x reader#hq smut#hq x reader#haikyuu imagines#aran ojiro#haikyuu#yandere#aran x reader#yandere haikyuu#dark haikyuu#yandere haikyuu x reader#hq imagines#hq x you#haikyuu fanfiction#aran x y/n#aran#yandere aran#haikyuu aran#aran imagine#yandere aran x reader#tw.noncon#tw.dc#tw.choking#tw.toxic#fem!reader#boys&toyscollab
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