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cosmicdahlias · 22 days ago

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And They Were Roommates

Logan Howlett x Reader

MINORS DNI

Your roommate, Wade Wilson, brings home an alcoholic Canadian bastard with knifes in his knuckles. After a month of putting up with him, an argument between you two goes in an unexpected direction.

tags: hard drugs mention, marijuana mention, alcohol usage, age difference, enemies to lovers, slapping, claws, hate fucking, mdom/fsub, breeding, degradation, praise kink, belt usage, choking, p in v, knifeplay (counting claw usage as knifeplay lmao), blood, creampie, possible impreg, aftercare, oral, multiple orgasms (emphasis on multiple), overstimulation

i’ve recently started watching the xcu movies after deadpool and wolverine dropped on disney+ and MY GODDDDDD have i been missing out!!! i’ve been an mcu girlie for so long (plus deadpool). the x-men movies are so fun but alsoooooo uhhhh hugh jackman as logan??? HELLO??? i need this man biblically like it’s not even funny. i have yet to watch logan (2017) but i’ve seen edits on tiktok and WHOA MAMA talk about a silver fox!!! also fun fact male wolverines bite down on the female’s neck during mating and i couldn’t resist including that in this fic. animalistic logan is THE BEST logan 👌

You were Wade Wilson’s friend turned roommate. You first knew each other through your other roommate, Althea, a blind woman who went by Al. At one point in time you were Al’s dealer before giving up that life once you got your degree and found steady employment. You never dabbled in the devil’s dandruff like Al did, as with the rest of gen Z, your drug of choice was weed. Your friends often asked why you chose an old woman and a mutant in his forties as roommates, but honestly rent was cheap and that was all you cared about.

You hadn’t seen Wade in a few days, he mysteriously disappeared during his birthday party. Neither you, nor any of his friends had any idea what had happened to him. You knew he’d kinda hit a rough’ish point in his life, giving up his assassin alter ego by the name of Deadpool for becoming a car salesman. You wondered if he had gone off on some sort of bender, but you honestly didn’t know.

You had just gotten off of work and opened the door to your apartment. Getting home took longer than expected, half of your street was cordoned off, from the damage looked like a bombing was the cause. You sat on the couch and pulled out your phone, trying to see if the local news had covered what had happened when door unlocked and swung open.

Wade walked in, sporting the iconic red suit you hadn’t seen him wear in six years. He was carrying the most… unique looking dog you’d ever seen and he was accompanied by a man with a rugged appearance who was wearing pants of similar material as Wade’s suit and nothing else. The stench of blood permeated the room.

“Al, I’m back.” Wade said.

“She’s out. Dude, where the hell have you been?” You asked.

“Oh no big deal, just saved the entire multiverse from total annihilation. I’m Marvel Jesus now.” Wade answered.

You elected to ignore his explanation. You never knew why you asked what he’d gotten up to whenever he wore that suit, none of it ever made a lick of sense to you.

“Who’s the dog?”

“Her? This four legged scrotum is Mary Puppins, or as I like to call her, Dogpool. Something… unfortunate happened to her last owner, so I’m her papá now.” Wade said cheerfully.

Knowing him, he definitely had something to do with whatever happened to her previous owner, but that wasn’t what you were asking about.

“Cute, but I was talking about the washed up Abercrombie & Fitch greeter next to you.”

The man rolled his eyes.

“Ohhhh, yeah that’s Logan. He’s gonna be crashing here for a while.”

“Wait, hold the fuck up. You disappear for days and you just show up in the suit you haven’t worn in years, reeking of blood, telling me some shirtless dude who also smells like blood is gonna live here like it’s no big deal?”

“Well funny thing is he doesn’t exactly know anyone else around here, not really his fault since I had to pull him from his universe and bring him here to save ours. May or may not have done so to a choir rendition of Madonna. You know, typical multiverse stuff and whatnot. I mean we’re Disney property now and that’s the horse they’re beating to death at the moment.” Wade answered.

Once again ignoring the exposition dump, you continued to protest.

“You can’t be serious, Wade! This is a two bed apartment. You and Al already share a room, so where the fuck are you gonna put him?”

“Isn’t that a couch you’re sitting on?” Logan scoffed.

“Oh perfect, so I can’t even use the goddam living room anymore?” You asked, growing even more irritated by Logan’s input.

“Jesus, you’re just a fuckin’ princess, aren’t you?” Logan huffed.

You glared at him before turning your attention back to Wade.

“Do I literally not get a say in this like at all? Even though I live here and pay my share of the rent?”

“Look, I promise it’s temporary. Just until he gets his footing in this universe. It won’t be so bad, I mean look him, total eye candy.” Wade said, gripping Logan’s face and turning his head to you.

Logan gave him a look that could kill. Long metal claws sprung out from just below his knuckles. Your eyes widened.

“THE FUCK ARE THOSE?” You shouted.

“Riiiiiiiight, so those are adamantium claws. They ain’t vibranium, but hey, can’t always be the number one. He’s a bonafide animal, in more ways than one, maybe you’ll find out for yourself.” Wade said, you could tell he was winking underneath his mask.

“The fuck do you mean by that?” Logan growled.

“Yeah, what?” You asked.

“Hey, I know sexual tension when I see it.” Wade retorted.

“I literally just met him.” You said.

“Yeah and with Hugh Jackman’s face and body, the time between introduction and need for face riding is a matter of seconds.” Wade said.

You gave a quick glance at Logan. Sure, he was incredibly attractive, but you sensed a sort of emotional unavailability that put you off. You had standards.

“You know my type and he’s not it, Wade.” You insisted.

“Forget type, he’s THE Wolverine. You know how many fanfics people read about this guy? Lookin’ at you, reader.” Wade said.

“Whatever, I’m not getting into a debate over my preferences for men.” You said, walking to your room and slamming the door.

“I think that went well.” Wade said.

A month had passed and much to your dismay, you were still being forced to share the apartment with Logan. At the very least he’d upgraded to wearing a shirt instead of walking around with his top half exposed.

After getting home from an exhausting shift at work, you opened the fridge, looking for the bottle of wine you saved for those evenings after a particularly long day. It was nowhere to be seen and you immediately knew who the culprit was.

“For fuck’s sake, Logan!” You shouted.

You headed to the living room to confront what was supposed to be your temporary roommate who sat on the couch.

“Christ, what now?” He groaned.

“Where the fuck is my wine?”

“Hm? Oh that? Yeah, it’s gone.” He answered dismissively, almost like taking time to respond or even look at you was beneath him.

“How many times do I have to tell you to keep your barely functioning alcoholic ass away from my stuff?”

“Didn’t see your name on it.”

“I specifically told you not to touch that fucking bottle multiple times.”

“Must’ve not been able to distinguish what you said from your typical bitching, I usually just tune that shit out.” He said, still not making eye contact with you.

“Jesus you really have no respect for anyone.” You spat.

Logan stood, coming in way too close for your liking.

“Respect? That’s a really funny word coming from someone who doesn’t respect themselves enough to not wear short little skirts like the one you’re wearing, bending over all the time to show off that ass.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh you fuckin’ heard me. You think I don’t see what you’re doing with the clothes you wear, or when you come out in the morning in nothing but a shirt and panties because you think I’m asleep and won’t notice?”

“Back the fuck up, the hell do you mean by ‘think’ you’re asleep?”

“I barely sleep enough as it is, I’m awake the second I hear your door open. You have any idea what seeing you like that does to me?”

You blushed.

“You’re fucking disgusting.” You said through gritted teeth.

“Please, you do it because you hope I’m watching you. I see the way you look at me. You can say you hate me all you fuckin’ want, but I can smell your goddam pheromones from across the room. I’ve been around for over two centuries and have more than enough experience to know when someone wants me. Especially when they’re acting like as much of a slut as y-“

You slapped him hard across the face. Logan immediately responded by pushing you up against the wall, unsheathing his claws and holding them under your chin. Neither of you said anything, the only sounds being a mix of him and you panting in anger.

Fuck, you had really grown to hate him, but something about his claws so dangerously close to you was playing into your kinks. You stole a glance down under, holy shit he was hard. You grabbed him by the face, kissing him aggressively. His claws retracted and he let his hands travel to your waist, pulling you closer.

“Mmf- fuckin’ knew it.” He said between kisses.

Logan picked you up by the underside of your thighs and carried you to your bedroom, his lips never once leaving you. He threw you down onto the bed, pulling your shirt over your head and unhooking your bra, tossing it aside. He took in the sight of your exposed chest.

“You’re such a pretty little thing, babygirl.”

His rough, calloused hand cupped your breast. He leaned down and you gave a yelp as he bit and tugged your nipple.

Logan chuckled. “Sensitive, aren’t you?”

You kissed him as you pulled his shirt off and traced your fingers along the dip between his abs. He unbuckled his belt, unzipping his jeans and slipping them off. Your eyes widened at the size of his cock, he laughed at your reaction.

“Yeah, like it don’t you?” He smirked.

“How the hell am I supposed to enjoy this if you’re gonna tear me in half?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t want it like that, I can tell you like it rough.”

“That’s a bold assumption to make.”

“Yeah? Keep telling yourself that.”

Logan pulled off your skirt and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of your panties, slipping them down your legs. He looked at your pussy with pure animalistic lust.

“Fuuuck babygirl, look how wet you already are for me. You got it that bad for older men, huh?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” You retorted.

“Oh I don’t have to, the way you’re dripping says more than enough.”

“Just shut up and fuck me already.”

You laid back on the bed with your head against the pillow and Logan flipped you over on your stomach, pulling you up to your hands and knees.

“No, you don’t get missionary. You act like a bitch? You’re getting fucked like one.”

Logan reached for his belt, he raised it, bringing it down sharply on your ass, making you squeal.

“This is what you get for being such a fuckin’ brat. From now on you call me ‘sir’, understand?”

“Like hell I will.“

He lashed you again.

“Keep talking back and see what happens. Now, what do you say?”

“Y- yes sir.”

“There you go. I’ll be nicer if you listen to me… maybe.”

Logan looped the belt around your neck.

“I’m keeping you on a leash in case you continue making smart comments.” He smirked.

“As if that’s gonna shut m- hrrrk!”

He pulled it tight, the leather dug into your skin and constricted your throat. The most you could get out was a strained moan.

“Got nothin’ to say to me now, huh? C’mon, tell me how much you hate me.” Logan mocked as he pulled harder.

You looked back at him and mouthed “fuck you”.

He laughed. “Oh I will.”

He pressed the tip of his cock against your slit for a fraction of a second before sharply forcing his full length deep inside you, causing you to cry out as his intimidating girth stretched you wide. He began to fuck you at a ruthless pace, the sounds of your yelps and squeaks filling the room.

“Poor thing, am I hurting you? It’s okay, I’m only fucking you senseless.” He teased.

His free hand gripped your ass, nails digging into your skin.

“Jesus Christ, you’re so fuckin’ tight. It’s like your little pussy was made for my cock.” He grunted.

Logan leaned down, sucking your neck, leaving mark after mark, his hand letting the belt loosen.

“You’re gonna look so pretty all marked up by me.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Are you seriously giving me hickeys? Really? What are you thirtee- ngh!”

Logan pulled tight on his belt again, keeping you from finishing your snide remark.

His thrusts became more aggressive, and as much as your feelings about Logan confused you, his cock felt incredible. You moved yourself back on him and he growled in approval.

“Yeah that’s it, take this fat cock like a perfect little slut. So good for me.”

He let go of the belt, both hands moving to your hips. His pace became punishingly fast and brutal. Between his growls and the way he fucked you like a dog, he honestly seemed more animal than man.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ breed you, I don’t care if you’re on the pill or not.”

You whimpered and tightened around him at his words. He smirked.

“Oh you like that?”

You nodded.

“Yeah? You wanna get knocked up? Tell me you want it, babygirl. Lemme hear you say it.”

“I need you to cum in me, get me pregnant. Please.” You begged.

He stopped his thrusts with only his head remaining inside you. He grabbed you by the throat and pulled you up against him, pressing his chest to your back.

“Please, what?” He commanded.

“Please, sir.”

He shoved you down onto the mattress and slammed himself fully back inside you, immediately resuming his vicious pace.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl.”

He panted like a wild animal, his claws slowly extending as he grew close.

“S- shit, sorry. Happens sometimes.” He said.

You tightened around him.

“Use them on me, hurt me, sir. Please, I need it so bad.” You whined.

“Goddam, you’re a fuckin’ freak. Aren’t ya, babygirl?”

He raked his claws down your back, you moaned obscenely loud as pearls of blood formed from the long slits he’d created. The mere sensation of it all immediately caused you to cum on his cock. The feeling of you pulsing around his shaft pushed him over the edge. He grunted as he buried himself to the hilt and leaned over, biting down hard on your neck, capillaries breaking under your skin. His cock throbbed with every rope of cum he shot into you.

“Fuuuuckin’ Christ, it’s not often I find someone that’s as into the hardcore stuff as me.” He chuckled.

Your whole body shook and you collapsed onto the mattress on your stomach. Logan removed his belt from your neck and got off the bed.

“Stay there, don’t move.” He said, pulling on his jeans and leaving the room.

He returned five or so minutes later with gauze, a roll of medical tape, and a wet hand towel.

“Had to really dig around for some of this stuff, when two out of four roommates regenerate there’s not a real demand.“

Logan got back onto the bed, sitting next to you.

“So what’s it like? To not heal immediately?” He asked as he dabbed at the blood on your back.

“I dunno, I never really thought about it. I guess you just deal with the pain for a few days, weeks, or months depending on what it is until it’s fine again.”

Logan chuckled.

“Sometimes I forget just how fragile everyone else is, until the world reminds me of it again and then…” He trailed off.

You could tell there was a heaviness to the latter half of his words, you knew why. Wade had told you that in Logan’s universe (a concept which took weeks for you to fully grasp) every single one of his fellow mutants had been murdered. You didn’t know the details, but you didn’t need to for you to understand why he was the way that he was. You looked up at him.

“It wasn’t your fault.” You said softly.

“What do you-“ his brow furrowed. “What did Wade tell you?” He growled as he covered his claw marks with gauze.

“Don’t get mad, I just- I wanted to know why you act like-“

“A dick?” He scoffed, pulling out a few inches of medical tape from the roll.

“Like someone with severe trauma.”

He went silent and looked away from your gaze as he finished adding the last line of tape to secure the gauze.

“…You’re all patched up.”

You moved to get up and dress yourself, but Logan wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you back onto the mattress.

“No, c’mere. Lay back for me.”

“Do I still have to call you ‘sir’?

“It’s alright, you can call me ‘Logan’ again. This is about making you feel good, not me. I think I owe you one for being such a good girl.”

You laid with your head against the pillow and Logan began to kiss his way down the length of your body until his head was between your thighs. His lips were so close to your pussy that you could feel the heat of his breath.

“Didn’t peg you for the kinda guy that gives head.”

“You thought wrong. I’m eating this pussy until you’re shaking for me.”

His lips met your clit, his tongue rolling and circling it. You moaned and tangled your fingers in his hair.

“Fuckin’ Christ, your scent is addictive.” He growled against you, making you shudder as the deep vibrations went straight to your clit.

You bucked your hips and he moved his hands to them, keeping you in place.

“Eeeeasy there. I know it feels good, but you can’t move around like that if I’m gonna eat you out, babygirl.”

He slipped two fingers inside you, curling them at just the right spot to absolutely send you over the edge. Your breath shuddered as you tightened around him.

“That’s it. C’mon, be a good girl and cum for me.”

You gripped his hair harder as you came undone on his tongue, pulsing around his fingers.

“Fuuuuuck, Logan!”

Your back arched off the bed, he pressed a hand to your stomach, holding you down.

“No, I’m not done with you yet.”

He continued sucking and licking your clit, his fingers fucking you hard and fast. You shook, feeling a second orgasm build. Your head cocked back as all of the nerves in your body ignited in pleasure for a second time. You expected Logan to remove his mouth, but he kept going.

“Fuck, I can’t stop. You’re just too goddam perfect when you cum.”

You moaned loudly, your clit throbbing in his mouth as you came for a third time, cursing like a sailor and writhing against his tongue.

“You doing good there, babygirl?” Logan asked.

“Uh-huh.” You murmured.

At some point everything went hazy and you lost track of just how many times he’d made you cum. The more you had, the quicker the next one came, until it was one immediately after another. You were a shaking, stuttering mess.

“L- Logan, I ca- an’t keep going. I- it’s too m- much.”

“Shhh, you’re okay. Just one more time, I promise.”

He pumped his fingers relentlessly, his tongue working your clit at an equally vigorous pace. Every muscle in your body tensed as the most intense orgasm you had ever felt in your life rocked you to your very core and everything went white for a moment.

“Ohhhhh godddd, Logan. You’re gonna fucking kill meeee.” You groaned.

Logan moved himself to get on top of you, kissing you deeply.

“I’m sorry babygirl. I know I pushed you hard, but you did so well for me.” He whispered softly, holding your face in his hand and stroking your cheek with his thumb.

He laid next to you, pulling you to him, his chest pressed against your back as your post orgasm haze finally subsided.

“Never saw you as the cuddling type.” You said.

“Depends on how I feel about whoever I’m fucking, and unfortunately for me I’m starting to actually like you.”

“And what did I do to deserve that?”

“Well, you’re still a total bitch, but you’re actually pretty sweet when you want to be. I like you that way though, makes things interesting. I’ll admit when you slapped me I got so fuckin’ hard.”

“So, you’re saying I should slap you more often?”

“I’m not saying no, but just expect to lose the ability to walk after I fuck it out of you.”

“You got yourself a deal.”

He pressed a kiss to the back of your neck.

“Good. Now, there’s something you should know. Regeneration doesn’t just mean that I heal quickly.” He said, pressing the hard bulge in his jeans against you.

“Holy shit, so… we could fuck all night without stopping?”

“Exactly.”

“Then what the hell are we doing just lying here?”

Logan turned you onto your back, getting on top of you.

“Attagirl, let’s fuckin’ go.”

The two of you spent the whole night fucking like rabbits nonstop. When morning came you made your way to the kitchen. Logan followed, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you from behind as you made yourself a cup of coffee. He buried his nose in the crook of your neck, taking in your scent.

“I hope you know I’m never gonna get enough of you.” He said, his hands traveling underneath your shirt to your breasts.

“I swear, you’re hornier than a dog that hasn’t had his balls chopped off.” You teased.

“Yeah and you love it.”

“There you go with the assumptions again, you’re so right though.” You purred, turning to him.

“I know I am.”

His lips met yours and he lifted you onto the counter. You laced your fingers in his hair and wrapped your legs around him. Both of you were too focused on each other to notice the sound of a door opening. Wade walked out from the room he shared with Al carrying Mary Puppins.

“Judging by the NC-17 noises I heard all night I’m guessing you two had fun.” Wade said, causing you to jump and pull away from Logan.

“For fuck’s sake, do you not know when to leave people alone?” Logan huffed.

“Oh c’mon peanut, you know boundaries aren’t my forte. It’s my toxic trait.”

Logan glared at him.

“Alright alright, I can take a hint. Just try not to get any fluids on the appliances. I certainly don’t mind a little Wolvie in my coffee, but I don’t think Al would appreciate it.” Wade said, heading back to his room.

Logan turned his attention back to you, his lips brushing against yours.

“Now, babygirl, where were we?”

#x men #wolverine #logan howlett #wolverine fanfic #wolverine smut #wolverine x reader #logan howlett fanfic #logan howlett smut #logan howlett x reader #my fics

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k3n-dyll · 6 months ago

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☆F.U.C.K

Warnings...18+, wlw, not proofread, also, written at 2am, established friends with benefits, self-indulgent smut, dom!Abby, shower sex, strap on (r!receiving), strap referred to as a dick/cock Word Count:2.08k || MDNI Banner Creds. || Donations 4 Palestine

Notes ☆ The next fic I have based on a song will not be as fun! Just a heads up. Also, two works back to back within a few hours? We're so back

FWB!Abby who isn't known to be very open about her sexuality. Sure, there are rumors, and there are people she's told that she's lesbian, but that list is pretty limited to close friends. It's not that she's trying to hide it, anyone with working eyes who takes more than a second or two to look at her can tell, she just doesn't feel like it's anyone's business but her own.

And yours of course.

Abby's never been particularly sappy or romantic. Still, despite how intense her day-to-day is - fighting Scars, killing infected, being on high alert at every turn because there's no way of knowing what will be the next thing to try and kill her first - she's a bit of a thrill seeker in her own way. The idea of doing something seemingly forbidden, the rush of nearly getting caught doing something less than savory, has never failed to be a turn-on for her and it's something that, over time, you've become acutely aware of. She's gotten into the habit of dragging you into bathrooms, and storage closets, sometimes even taking it upon herself to get handsy underneath tables when in the presence of others just to see that nervous look you get.

It should be no shock to you that she'd do something like this and yet, you're still baffled.

The showers were peaceful today, it was late and most people were either asleep or just waking up for their own shifts. After a long patrol, all you wanted to do was turn on the hot water and let it soak over your aching muscles, washing the blood, dirt, and sweat that had accumulated on your skin down the drain. You weren't expecting to feel a large pair of hands gripping at your waist in the shower, and if you hadn't known better, you might have started swinging.

"Abby, what the hell?" You flinch a little under her grasp, and while you try to sound angry, the amused chuckle that forms with your words is hard to stifle.

"Nice to see you too" Abby mutters, already beginning an assault on your neck with her lips, trailing wet kisses down your skin as she speaks.

"I thought you said you were tired" You try and turn to face her but you're only met with a tightened grip on your body, forcing you to face the glass shower wall.

"I lied."

Before you can think up something snarky to say, Abby presses her front up against you further and you stiffen completely, the sensation of something that definitely isn't normally there now flush against your ass.

"What is that?" You question, turning your head in attempt to get a look at whatever it is she's got rubbing against you, but again she forces your eyes forward, grabbing your chin to make you face the wall again.

"I want you to guess." She purrs, nipping at your earlobe, unable to stop herself from letting out a low chuckle. "C'mon, baby, I know you remember. That shop we passed by the other day? You were all curious about it, but we never got the chance to really look around."

In order to somewhat jog your memory, one of her hands releases its grip on you, wrapping around what she has and pressing it between your soaked thighs, shallowly thrusting it between them. Your breath hitches at the feeling and the memory comes flooding back into your mind. It was a few days back - Manny had pointed out an old sex shop and being the man he is he just couldn't shut up about it. Mostly he'd bragged about how, as much as he'd like to experiment, his own hands and body got the job done just fine.

In the moment it was funny, and a little stupid. The three of you managed to catch a quick glimpse of the interior, seeing some of the different toys that hadn't been looted or destroyed and joking about all of the time people in the Old World must have had to be so experimental with their sex lives. Unbeknownst to you, one toy in particular had caught Abby's eye. She didn't point it out to you or Manny, but right before you all had to leave, the rest of your patrol group having already started packing up to head back to base, she'd hidden it so that she could go back for it later. And she did.

"Figured it out, pretty girl?"

Abby's voice snaps you out of your head and you nod, coaxing another low chuckle out of her.

"You wanna see it?"

The moment her hold on you loosens you turn around, eyes panning down her toned, naked frame to the black harness that was fixed around her hips and landing on the toy that had just been sliding up against your cunt. Your eyes widen at the sight of the thick, purple silicone toy dangling from her body, and as much as you'd like to deny the immediate heat that rises in your belly at the sight of it, you can't.

"I don't think that's gonna fit. And...and what if we get caught, Abs you can't just hide that thing"

You say it without much thought, your words forcing a genuine laugh out of your 'friend'. She shakes her head and playfully rolls her eyes.

"You worry too much, baby. I locked the door. If someone comes knocking, I can just get out and tuck it in my bag before we open the door" She reassures as she gently guides you by your waist to the fogged-up wall, pressing you against it. "And trust me, once I get you nice and warmed up, it'll fit"

Abby sinks to her knees in front of you without another word, settling herself between your legs and dragging her tongue along your slit. The doubt that was once present in the front of your mind quickly starts to fade as she laps at your dripping heat, your hands weaving into her wet hair and holding on to keep her in place. You feel the tip of two of her thick fingers dip into your pussy, coating the digits with your arousal before slipping them into you completely.

She never failed to have this effect on you, and if it weren't so sexy, it'd be frustrating. Your mind is so quick to go blank under her touch, hips unconsciously grinding against her tongue as she swirls it along your puffy clit. Abby's unusually slow about it at first, curling and scissoring her fingers in and out of you, making sure to prepare you as best she can, but by the time she slips in a third finger her impatience and excitement makes itself known. You're practically teetering at the edge of an orgasm when she pulls away from you entirely, a whine escaping you as you're denied a release.

"Abby..."

"Shh, baby I know" Abby murmurs, standing back up, smiling softly as she watches your brows fix together. "I want you to cum on my cock, not my fingers. You can do that for me, can't you?"

Something about the way she refers to it as her own, as if she'd grown it herself sends a shock of electricity through you, and you answer her with an eager nod.

"Atta girl, now be good for me and turn around" She instructs, pushing you flush against the glass when you obey her command.

Abby knows how badly you must be aching at this point, her own precum leaking down her thighs as her eyes rove over your back. Even so, she takes her time, fucking your thighs, calloused palms spreading your ass a bit to get a better view. She groans at the sight of your essence combining with the water, making the dildo glisten in the fluorescent lights.

"God, you're so fucking wet" She whispers. "So ready to get split on my fuckin' dick, aren't you?"

The desperate little whines and the way you wiggle your ass back onto her is all the confirmation she needs to slowly push in, though, to neither of your surprise with how soaked you are, it proves to be rather easy. The difference is almost funny to her. You looked so nervous when you'd seen it initially, and now you were sucking her in like you were used to it.

"There ya go, slipped in so fast baby, fuck"

The way Abby moans when the toy is all the way inside of you, the way she struggles to keep at a slow pace to make sure you're well adjusted to the girth - you'd think she could feel it. It's an adjustment for both of you, the task of keeping it from fully slipping out of you when she pulls back proving to be a tad more annoying than she thought it would be, but she figures it out. And, God, if it isn't fucking worth it when she does.

Each thrust is like a shock to your system, Abby's pace only increasing as she loses herself in the moment. She could probably - and likely will end up - cumming from this alone. It was already a bit of a fantasy in her mind, having often wondered what it would be like to fuck you like this, but she didn't think she actually could. Her vivid blues are transfixed on the way your ass jiggles with each hard thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin only made more intense by the water flowing along your bare bodies.

"A-Abby I- oh my god, please!" Words barely come out of you, and when they do, they're choppy breathless rambles with no real substance. Normally you were so careful about volume, but there are always times when she'd fucked you so stupid that you stopped caring. This, for example, being one of those times.

"So fuckin' pretty...you look so fuckin' pretty trying to take it for me" Her grip on your hips is bound to leave bruising, but all you can think about is how grateful you are for that fact. If not for her hands, you'd be on the ground by now, legs shaking and unable to hold your weight any longer.

Abby knows your tells well enough to see when you're about to explode - the incoherent sobs, twitching legs, your hands desperately trying to grab onto everything - anything that could possibly help ground you even a little bit. It only eggs her on, her arm snaking around your body to rub feverishly at your aching clit, almost impatient in her need to watch you come apart for her.

"Fuck, don't stop Abby, please, 'm so close...so fuckin' close" You manage to blurt out, damn near crying at the intensity, eyes rolled into the back of your head, head lulled forward against the wall. It's taking everything in you not to fall apart this instant but you want to drag it out for just a little longer.

"Almost there, honey, I got you... C-c'mon, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking cock"

The white-hot intensity of your orgasm sends you reeling, a string of curses and choked cries spilling from your lips, arousal further wetting your inner thighs as it spurts out of you. Abby can't help but moan loudly at the sight, continuing to pump in and out of you to let the base of the toy bump against her clit more, her own climax following soon after yours.

Somehow, Abby manages to stay upright despite her legs feeling like putty, knowing full well that if she falls you'll go down with her. Her strong arms wrap around you tightly as she pulls out of you, her sweaty forehead resting against your back as you both work to catch your breath.

"Fuck..that was..." She trails off, the actual strain of her actions hitting her body, making it difficult for her to get a word out between breaths. You giggle at the sound of her struggle, though you aren't doing any better.

"So fucking good.." Is all you breathe out, your mind still too fuzzy to think of something better to say.

Abby just nods, lacking the energy to say something snarky in response, the only sound remaining being the now cold water from the showerhead pitter-pattering against the ground, though eventually, she does force herself to speak up once more.

"Once I....catch my fuckin' breath...we're so doing that again"

Reblogs are appreciated ☆ tags: @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery,

#lesbian #wlw #tlou2 #abby anderson #☆kennie's works #abby the last of us #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby x reader #abby x you #abby x fem!reader

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notlongtolove · 10 days ago

Text

like a lover

he doesn’t answer. he doesn’t even look at you again. he just shakes his head and walks into the bedroom. by the time you follow him, he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it holds the answer to whatever’s boiling inside him. fine. If he wants to ice you out, two can play that game.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)

genre: hurt comfort

content: student!reader gets drunk after a brutal final and spencer is beyond mad. very brief mention of abduction. lowkey spencer is in the right bc #safety but he made reader cry n for that he is found #guilty!!!

word count: 3.1k

note: based off this ask! random fact the last line of this fic was the inspiration for empty my soul but idk why i just couldnt fit it in there, anyways i hope you guys like it! (pls tell me if u do i was struggling with a resolution for this)

a line: Spencer thinks, for a split second, that he’d rather die than ever have to see you cry like that again.

I give you an onion. It is a moon wrapped in brown paper. It promises light like the careful undressing of love. Here. It will blind you with tears like a lover. It will make your reflection a wobbling photo of grief. I am trying to be truthful. - carol ann duffy

You probably should’ve stopped five drinks ago—maybe four if you were feeling merciful. That last Vodka cran? A spectacularly bad idea. But whatever. You earned this. You’re young, you’re fun, you look good, and for the first time in weeks, you have no deadlines clawing at you. The final had been a nightmare. You knew your fate was sealed the second you flipped to question three. What the hell is textual and symbolic environmentalisation? But it’s over now. That’s all that matters.

The wind bites at your bare legs as you stand by the curb, aimlessly kicking a pebble. You hug your arms close, fighting off the chill. Maybe you should’ve brought a jacket. Spencer had suggested it, but you’d waved him off. He’s usually right.

You frown, glancing up at the street sign. He said he’d be here. Right? Your phone’s dying battery blinks at you in its final moments, mocking you before shutting off completely. Definitely should’ve taken his offer of a portable charger, too. You sigh, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

A man stumbles by, reeking of booze. You don’t need to look to know.

"Hey," he calls out, voice slurred and gravelly.

You keep your eyes down, pretending not to hear.

“Hey,” he says again, louder this time.

Where the hell is Spencer?

"D’you know when the bus starts running again?"

You hesitate, half-relieved that he’s asking something semi-coherent. "I—I’m sorry, I’m not sure."

He nods to himself, swaying on his feet.

"I told you to wait by the bodega on 3rd," a familiar voice mutters. Spencer’s hand closes around your arm, already steering you away.

"Oh, hey," you say softly, relief washing over you. "Is this not—" You glance at the street sign overhead—4 Maple Drive. Shit. "I—sorry, I thought—"

"It’s fine," he says, but the sharp edge in his voice tells you it’s not.

The car ride is suffocatingly silent. When he pulls open the passenger door for you, there’s no trace of his usual warmth. No soft smile, no gentle tease about your perpetually dead phone. Just a click of the door and the quiet thud of it shutting behind you.

You hate this. Hate the tension humming between you, the way his jaw is set tight as he drives. He was so different this afternoon, greeting you after your final with those cupcakes he knows you love from the bakery on the other side of town, his lips brushing yours in endless, giddy kisses. This Spencer is nothing like that.

"They played ‘Dancing Queen’ tonight," you venture, voice tentative. He knows it’s your favourite. Knows it always pulls you to the dance floor, no matter how tired or tipsy you are. "It was so funny—some guy bought us a round of shots—"

"And you drank it?"

The question lands heavy. His first words to you since he’d started driving.

"Well... yeah?"

"What else did you drink?"

"Not a lot," you say quickly, tripping over your words. "Just vodka, tequila, a bit of wine—"

"You mixed?"

The way he says it makes you bristle. There’s a hint of disbelief, maybe even disappointment.

"Spence," you say softly. "I’m not that drunk, I promise."

Nothing.

His knuckles tighten on the steering wheel. The silence in the air is almost tangible, a crackling, oppressive thing. When he pulls into the driveway and kills the engine, he doesn’t move to open your door. He always does that. But not tonight.

You’re pretty sure he’s mad at you, though you’re not entirely sure why. It’s not like you go out that often, and you can’t even remember the last time you let yourself get this drunk. Tonight was an exception, a celebration. He understands, doesn’t he?

You follow him inside, trailing behind like a shadow. He doesn’t head to the kitchen like he does after you get back from a night out—no tea, no toast, no quiet ritual of making sure you’re okay. Instead, he walks straight into the study, his back to you. Yeah, he’s definitely mad.

"You’re mad at me," you say, standing in the doorway.

He doesn’t answer. His hands grip the back of his chair, his head bowed like he’s trying to gather himself. You’re not one to push, usually giving him the space he needs when he gets all broody like this, but the alcohol that’s running through your system is making it hard to practice patience.

"Why are you mad at me?"

Still nothing.

When he finally moves, it’s only to brush past you, heading for the bedroom without so much as a glance. "We’ll talk about this tomorrow," he says, his tone flat, clipped. "I can’t talk to you when you’re like this."

This. The word hits like a slap, sharp and dismissive. It irks you.

"If you didn’t want to come, then you shouldn’t have come," you mutter under your breath, the words slipping out before you can stop them. "I could’ve gotten a ride—"

"You were slurring on the phone." He stops in the hallway, turning just enough for you to see the tight set of his jaw.

"Yeah, no shit, Spencer. People slur when they drink," you fire back a little too harshly, the alcohol fueling your irritation as you cross your arms defensively.

"Don’t," he warns, his voice low, dangerous in a way that makes your chest tighten.

You glare at him, heat rising in your cheeks. "Don’t what? Don’t point out how ridiculous you’re being right now?"

He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t even look at you again. He just shakes his head and walks into the bedroom. By the time you follow him, he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it holds the answer to whatever’s boiling inside him. Fine. If he wants to ice you out, two can play that game.

You head to the bathroom without a word, your movements jerky as you swipe at the remnants of your makeup. You grab your moisturizer, fingers fumbling with the cap. A sharp tug and it goes flying out of your hands, clattering to the floor.

"Fuck," you mutter, bracing yourself for a bout of instability as you bend down to retrieve it.

Before you can grab it, Spencer moves. He scoops it up, straightening with an ease that feels almost mocking. When you meet his eyes, they’re unfamiliar. It’s not the Spencer you know. Not the Spencer who covers your eyes during scary movies or kisses your forehead when you’re half-asleep. No, this Spencer feels distant, cold.

"And I’m supposed to believe you’re not that drunk," he says flatly. Your chest tightens, a lump forming in your throat as heat flushes your face. He offers a hand as you steady yourself, trying to rise to your feet, but you brush him off, snatching the bottle from his grip with a bitterness you don’t try to mask.

"What the hell is your problem?" you snap.

"My problem?" he repeats, incredulous. "I’m not the one blackout drunk on a Wednesday night."

"I’m not—"

"Would you—would you just stop!" he barks, the words sharp enough to make you flinch. "You’re slurring your words. You got the streets wrong. You couldn’t even get the damn moisturizer open," he snaps, gesturing toward you harshly with a mixture of frustration and exasperation.

Your knuckles whiten as you cling to the edge of the sink, unsure if you’re holding on for balance or just to keep from breaking. You spin back toward the mirror willing yourself not to cry. The frustration, the confusion, the ache in your chest—everything wells up at once.

"God, you’re being so—"

"So what?" he interrupts, his voice rising as he steps closer. His eyes bore into yours, daring you to say it. "So concerned? So worried? So—"

"So fucking mean!"

The silence that follows deafening. For a moment, he freezes, the hard edges of his expression softening into something else—shock, regret, guilt—but it’s fleeting.

"So what if I’m drunk?" Your voice cracks as the words tumble out, your frustration too overwhelming to contain. "And yeah, maybe—" You shake your head, swallowing the lump in your throat as you glare at him, "Maybe I’m slurring a little but forgive me for wanting a drink after the final I’ve been stressing over all fucking month."

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, his frustration barely contained. "It’s not about you having a drink. It’s about you not knowing your limits—"

"Oh, for fucks sake," you interrupt, throwing your hands up. The movement makes you sway slightly, and you hate how it only seems to prove his point. "Newsflash, Spencer, I’m a university student. Sometimes we get drunk. You don’t get to make me feel like shit just because you don’t drink.”

You push past him, your shoulder grazing his as you move to sit on the edge of the bed. The mattress dips under your weight, and you grip the edge, willing the room to stop spinning.

"You were being reckless," he bites back, the word hanging heavy in the air. "You don’t see what I see. You’re out alone, you don’t—"

"I wasn’t alone," you say, your voice rising to meet his. "I had friends—"

"Yeah, friends who left you alone on a curb at 3am," he shoots back, cutting you off. The words land with precision, a calculated jab, but you refuse to flinch.

"Because you said you were on the way!" you fire back.

His voice is cold now, practically seething. "And what do you think would’ve happened if I hadn’t reached you just as that guy was coming on to you?"

"He was asking for the bus!" you shoot back, the words ringing out louder than you intended. You hate everything about this fight. You hate how unfamiliar he feels, hate the part of you that wonders if you’re the one who brought this out of him. "Nothing would’ve—"

Spencer’s expression darkens, his gaze narrowing. "Nothing?" He scoffs. "Tell that to Nina Radha. To Caroline Wrenley. To Mindy Denver. They were all ‘just waiting for a ride home’ last week. And now? All abducted. All dead."

The room goes silent. Your chest tightens, and the fight drains out of you as his meaning sinks in.

"You’re being cruel," your words are barely audible, trembling on the edge of your lips. The tears come faster now, streaking your face, but you don’t bother wiping them away. "Why—" you whisper, weak and watery, "Why are you being like this?"

When Spencer finally turns to look at you, the sight of your tears stops him cold. They streak your face in uneven paths, and he feels something inside him splinter. Spencer never likes seeing you cry—he hates it, actually. It’s not just discomfort or unease; it’s a literal, physical ache. But knowing he’s the reason for your tears tonight? That’s pain in its most visceral form. It’s failure in its purest state.

"I—" he starts, his voice faltering. It cracks mid-sentence, and he stops, swallowing hard. His breath shudders as he exhales, trying to find the words, but all that comes out is a quiet, broken, "I was scared."

Your tears have momentarily slowed, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. The anger in his voice has faded, replaced by something softer, something raw—fear, tangled with guilt, with regret. He takes a tentative step closer, then hesitates, unsure of what to do.

"I thought that… something could’ve happened to you, and I—I didn’t know how to handle it."

After a moment, he lowers himself to your level, crouching in front of you. He lifts his hand, reaching out to wipe away the tears that stain your face. But the instant his fingers near you, you flinch, turning your head to avoid his touch. The movement is small, but Spencer’s heart shatters at the rejection all the same. He hates that he’s made you cry, hates that you won’t let him near you, hates that you won’t even look at him.

"I’m sorry," he says, the words low and weighted with sincerity. He knows it’s not enough, but it’s all he has left to give.

Your tears fall, dripping onto your hands that rest limply in your lap. You shake your head, your shoulders tense, refusing to meet his eyes. The rejection stings, sharper than he expected, but he doesn’t blame you. He knows he deserves this. The room is still except for the sound of your quiet sniffles.

Spencer tries again, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. "I just—" His breath catches as he exhales, his hand running through his hair in agitation, the movement more to calm himself than anything else. "When I saw you standing there alone—alone and with that man, I got scared. And I lashed out. I shouldn’t have. You didn’t— you didn’t deserve that."

The silence that follows is thick, but finally, you break it. Your voice is quiet, bitter.

"I’m not them."

You’re still not meeting his eyes, still keeping that distance, but at least it’s something.

"Those girls… I’m not them, Spencer."

"I know, I know. I was—", his voice is low, the regret weighing heavily on every syllable.

"That case was tough on you, I know it was," you interrupt, "And what happened to those girls, it was horrible. But I'm not them, Spence. I'm not…" Spencer watches helplessly as you furiously wipe away a tear from your cheek.

"I'm not dead. I'm here."

“I was projecting, I—” His voice catches, “I shouldn’t have taken it out on you,” he admits quietly. You nod, grimly. Another single, heavy tear slips down your cheek and Spencer feels his heart break all over again.

"I know you’re scared. How do you think I feel every time you go out into the field?" You take a deep breath, and say bitterly, "I get it."

Each word is a struggle, but you say it with conviction. He can see how much you’re holding in, the effort it takes for you to keep your voice from cracking.

You pause, swallowing hard as you steady yourself, "But you—You don’t get to talk to me like that." When your eyes meet his, they flash with both anger and sadness. "You don’t get to take that out on me."

"I know, I—That was—I was being horrible, I was an ass," Spencer admits, his voice small. "You didn’t deserve that, honey. God, I’m just—I’m so, so, sorry."

You look at him for a long moment, searching for any sign that he’s being sincere. All you see is regret, raw and heavy. And something else, something softer. Love. He reaches out, and this time you don’t pull away. Just getting to touch you is a brief, bittersweet, blinding relief. Spencer lets his fingers graze your cheek as he wipes away your tears gently, his thumb brushing over the wet path they’ve left behind.

A soft, almost bitter laugh escapes you. "An ass is putting it lightly."

Spencer’s chest tightens, a small breath of relief escaping him, though it’s quickly replaced with guilt. "M’so sorry sweetheart," he breathes out, comforted by the familiar bite in your tone. It lightens the air between you, just a little.

He shifts to sit next to you on the bed. "I didn’t—I really didn’t mean to," he says quietly. You rest your head on his shoulder, letting out a soft sigh, the fight slowly draining out of you. Spencer gently takes your hands, cradling them in his.

"I—I never want to hurt you, never want to make you cry. Ever." Spencer's voice cracks slightly as he talks, fingers tracing your palm. "You know that, right?"

You nod, your voice small but steady. "I know."

Shifting, you tuck your legs beneath you, turning to face him fully. Your hands lift to cup his face gently, your thumbs brushing against the faint stubble on his jaw. The touch is tender, almost protective, as you guide his face to meet yours. His eyes can’t hold your gaze for long, shame clearly written across them.

"I was just—I was—" He stumbles over his words.

"Scared," you finish softly, filling the silence for him.

"I—I’m sorry," Spencer’s voice falters, "I’m really sorry honey, I should’ve never—That was—"

Your hands guide his face back toward yours, coaxing him to meet your eyes. This time, he doesn’t resist, his breath shaky as he clings to the comfort you offer. "S’okay, baby. M’not mad anymore," you murmur.

"Sad?" he asks, his voice barely audible, like he’s afraid of what you’ll say.

"No," you smile faintly, shaking your head, "Not sad, baby," you whisper, leaning closer. Your thumb traces the curve of his cheek in silent reassurance. His shoulders relax just a little. "I just—" you sigh as you let out one last, quiet sniffle, "I really hate fighting."

Carefully, he coaxes you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you. "Me too, honey," he says, his voice thick with emotion as he shifts closer. You don’t resist, letting your head rest in the crook of his neck, your breath warm against his skin.

"S’not nice," you murmur against him, your words muffled.

"I know, I know," Spencer whispers, his fingers tracing slow, soothing circles along your back. You let out a shaky sigh, sinking further into his embrace. “Was awful, wasn’t it?” he says, quietly.

"Mhm," you mumble quietly, your voice soft but pointed as you lean into his touch. "Made me cry," you say, looking at him through wet lashes to prove your point. Spencer thinks, for a split second, that he’d rather die than ever have to see you cry like that again. After a beat of quiet, he tilts his head just enough to press a soft kiss to your temple.

"I love you, you know that?"

You hum softly, nuzzling your face into his neck with a contented sigh, "Love you too."

"Love you so much, sweet girl," he says again, quieter this time, like it’s a truth meant only for you.

"Sap," you tease, lifting your head just enough to meet his gaze, the faintest hint of a smile on your lips.

Spencer grins, soft and boyish. "Always for you," he mumbles fondly, and before you can respond, he leans forward, pressing a playful kiss to the tip of your nose.

You stick your tongue out at him in mock protest, but he’s already chasing the moment. A kiss lands on your cheek. Then another on the other side. Each one dripping with easy affection.

"Spence—" you laugh, the sound bubbling up. It spreads a warmth through Spencer’s chest.

"My sweet girl," he says quietly, almost to himself.

His smile only grows as he drinks in the sound of your giggles, tears long gone. He presses a fluttering series of kisses across your form until you’re laughing into his lips, each kiss softer than the last.

One on your cheek, two on your shoulder, a thousand on your lips.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ hi if you're here! thank you for reading! feel free to like or reblog or comment or reply!

ᯓ★ song recs if you feel like it: false god by taylor swift moon river by frank ocean

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer x reader #spencer x self insert #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader angst #spencer reid x reader comfort

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james-bucky-barnackle · 6 months ago

Text

I mean?

Synopsis: On a press tour with your co-star Sebastian Stan, the interviewer asks you a question about another film he did and the answer surprises him.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Actress!Y/N

Word Count: IDK I'm too sleep deprived to count.

A/N: Bro I am on a resurgence. Might just fuck around and continue writing more fanfics or whatever.

It’s another busy day promoting your new movie with Sebastian, The Road Trip. It's a funny romcom about two best friends going on a long trip to see another friend who your character is dating. Interestingly enough, the guy who plays him is Chris Evans. The interviews are currently being done in pairs, and you're with Sebastian.

You've always been candid, speaking your mind without feeling shy. Deep down, you're a bit of a pessimist, accepting things as they are. When you first heard from your agent that you were cast in The Road Trip alongside Sebastian Stan and Chris Evans, you laughed hysterically. The idea that you, an unconventional beauty, were chosen to be on screen with those two seemed surreal. You never really think about dating co-stars, which helps with acting in general. The media is impressed with how chill you are around A-list actors, and even though it hasn’t fully sunk in yet, the industry has started promoting you to that list.

The interview has been going on for about 15 minutes when another journalist joins, mostly asking about the experience of working with the cast.

“It’s my first romcom, can you believe it?” you say.

“First?!” Sebastian stares in mock disbelief.

“I know, right?!” You feign surprise.

The interviewer continues, “How does it feel to do something lighter and a bit comedic for once?”

“You mean, a movie where no one dies?” Sebastian covers his mouth at your response.

“I mean essentially,” the interviewer laughs. “Wait, no one dies?!” They nudge you playfully.

“I mean, I’m not sure, no spoilers,” you say, breaking the fourth wall and looking into the camera. Sebastian cackles. “It’s definitely refreshing. It feels like going to school for some reason. Like I don’t want to miss a class just because I might miss something wild happening.”

“What?” Sebastian glares. “What school did you go to?”

“I mean, aside from the learning stuff…” You grimace. “It’s fun, honestly. I’d love to do more romcoms. It’s very down-to-earth and just resonates with you so much. I don’t wanna get too cheesy, but I’m such a hopeless romantic—this is my jam.”

“Sebastian, how’s your experience working with Chris again, this time outside of the Marvel universe?”

“Wait, this isn’t in the Marvel Universe?!” you butt in. Sebastian again, fakes a loud gasp. You two laugh. This interview feels like it’s going nowhere.

“It’s totally fun, as Y/N mentioned—it really is like going to class. But most of my scenes are with Y/N, so she’s like the lab partner I’ve never had. Chris was always texting us, checking which location we’re going to be at, making sure we’re scheduled on the same day. It’s fun when we’re both on set.”

You nod in agreement. “Yeah, we’ve got a good rhythm going. It’s like having a little family on set. Plus, Chris is always the one who brings snacks, so that’s a bonus.”

Sebastian laughs. “Oh, absolutely. Chris and his endless supply of trail mix.”

The interviewer chuckles. “Sounds like you all have a great dynamic. Was there a favorite scene you both enjoyed filming together?”

You think for a moment. “I really loved the scene where we’re stuck in the car during that rainstorm. It was so chaotic, but we had a blast improvising and just playing off each other.”

Sebastian nods. “Yeah, that was a good one. The rain machine was going full blast, and we were just trying not to crack up the entire time.”

The interviewer smiles. “It sounds like it was a lot of fun. And the chemistry definitely shows on screen. Speaking of different roles, Y/N, Sebastian’s been in the movie Fresh where he plays a sociopathic killer who preys on lonely women pretending to be a genuine guy.”

“I don’t like where this is going,” you say, laughing, as Sebastian shakes his head.

“Would you, like Noa, fall prey to Steve’s antics?” This question gets a louder laugh from Sebastian as your face shows pure shock. You hold him back with your hand and say,

“I’ve thought about this, to be honest,” you start, looking at Sebastian as he raises his eyebrows, impressed.

“Oh, you have?”

You laugh and continue, patting his thigh and looking back at the interviewer. “Me and my friend talked about it a while back. And it’s frightening because I would’ve probably ended up on a chopping block.”

“Noooo!” Sebastian shouts, “I was rooting for you.”

“No! But, like, you are incredibly good-looking and charismatic. It would be hard not to give my number at the grocery aisle.”

He tilts his head at your response. “Surely not good enough to get yourself killed?!”

“You’d be surprised how far I’d even go,” you say, as the interviewer laughs with you both. “Oh god, I need to call my therapist,” you add, ending the topic with the three of you gagging.

“Might just have to talk to mine too, after hearing that.”

You can already feel TikTok saving this clip and turning it into a meme.

You notice, after you call Sebastian good-looking, he’s been eyeing you sideways and biting his lip. As if he’s suddenly gone bashful. You can’t help but feel a boost in your ego. Could it be that Stan is shy? You make it a point to tease him for the remainder of the interview.

“What’s something funny or unexpected that happened on set?”

“Oh, there were so many moments,” you start. “One time, we were filming this really serious scene, and out of nowhere, a bird flew into the set and landed right on Sebastian’s shoulder.”

Sebastian laughs. “Yeah, I had no idea what to do. I just froze, and then Y/N started making bird noises to try and get it to fly away.”

You laugh, nodding. “It took a good ten minutes to get back into character after that. Everyone was cracking up.”

The interviewer grins. “That sounds hilarious. It’s great to hear that you all had such a good time. Speaking of moments on set, were there any funny or awkward moments while filming the more romantic or intimate scenes?”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh, plenty. Like the time we were shooting that kiss scene in the rain, and Y/N kept slipping on the wet pavement.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Hey, it was slippery! You were the one who can’t stop laughing during takes.”

Sebastian laughs. “True, true. But come on, we both know it was because you were so nervous about kissing me.” You notice him biting back.

You gasp in mock offense. “Excuse me, I was not nervous! I was just...distracted by how ridiculously good-looking you are. It’s hard to concentrate when you have that face right in front of you.” He smiles uncontrollably again, feeling defeated by your nonchalance. He wonders, how are you so good at this?

The interviewer laughs, clearly enjoying the banter. “So, who do you think had the hardest time keeping a straight face during those scenes?”

You both point at each other simultaneously, then laugh.

Sebastian leans back, shaking his head. “Definitely Y/N. There was this one scene where we were supposed to be having this deep, romantic conversation, and she just couldn’t stop giggling.”

You nudge him playfully. “Well, you weren’t helping with all your ad-libs! You kept whispering things like, ‘Is that your stomach growling or are you just happy to see me?’”

Sebastian laughs. “Hey, I was trying to lighten the mood! And let’s not forget the scene where we had to stare into each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity. I swear, Y/N, you blink more than anyone I know.”

You smirk. “Only because I was trying to avoid getting lost in those baby blues of yours.” At this point, Sebastian was laughing hard, but feeling nervous at your jokes. He secretly wished it were all real, his ears were red and hot. He’s already thinking of how to approach you after the interview and get himself out of the friend zone which he didn’t even thought he’d be in, having found a new interest in you.

The interviewer looks between the two of you, amused. “It sounds like you both had a lot of fun with it. Do you think all that chemistry will translate to the screen?”

Sebastian nods. “Oh, definitely. I think our off-screen dynamic really helped make the on-screen relationship feel more genuine. Plus, Y/N here is an amazing actress. She made it easy.”

You smile, feeling a bit bashful. “Well, Sebastian’s not too bad himself. It’s hard not to enjoy working with someone who’s so talented and, let’s be honest, ridiculously attractive.”

Here she goes again .Sebastian grins. “Right back at you. But let’s be real, we’re both just incredibly good-looking people trying to make a movie here.” The internet is gonna have a field day.

The interviewer laughs. “Sounds like a tough job! Any last funny or romantic moments you’d like to share?”

You think for a moment. “There was this one scene where we had to dance together. Neither of us are professional dancers, so there were a lot of missteps and toe-stepping. But it ended up being one of the sweetest scenes because it felt so real and unpolished.”

Sebastian nods. “Yeah, that was a great scene. It was supposed to be this perfectly choreographed dance, but it turned into us just goofing around and having fun. I think it really captured the essence of our characters' relationship.”

The interviewer smiles, clearly delighted by your stories. “Well, thank you both for sharing these wonderful moments. It’s been a pleasure talking with you.”

As you and Sebastian leave the interview room, you head towards the lobby where a few other cast members are mingling. The energy is still high from the fun and laughter of the interview. Sebastian nudges you playfully as you walk.

“Hey, remember in the interview when you called me incredibly good-looking and charismatic?” he teases, a mischievous glint in his eye.

You roll your eyes, grinning. “Oh, come on. Don’t let it go to your head, Stan.”

He chuckles. “Too late. I’m pretty sure I’m going to bring that up every chance I get now.”

“You would,” you laugh, shaking your head. “ It’s not like I was lying.”

Sebastian stops walking, turning to face you. “Well, thank you. And for the record, you’re pretty incredible yourself. Both on screen and off.”

You feel a warm blush creeping up your cheeks, putting a palm to your chest as if to continue the gag. “Thanks, Seb. That means a lot.”

He smiles, his eyes softening. “No, really, it’s been really great working with you. I think we make a pretty good team.”

“I think so too,” you agree, feeling a flutter in your stomach, you realize he’s actually serious now. There’s a moment of silence as you both just look at each other, the playful teasing from earlier now replaced with something more tender.

Sebastian breaks the silence first. “So, what do you say we celebrate wrapping up the promotion tour? Maybe dinner tonight?”

You raise an eyebrow, teasingly. “Is this your way of asking me out, Stan?”

He grins, a little sheepishly. “Maybe it is. What do you think?”

You pretend to think about it for a moment, then nod. “I think it sounds like a great idea.”

“Perfect,” he says, looking genuinely pleased. “I’ll pick you up at eight?”

“Eight it is."

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smut-anarchy · 4 days ago

Text

Crybaby

Soft!Mattheo Riddle x Hufflepuff!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Some mild swears, nothing spicy... for now.

Summary: Every time Mattheo sees you cry and falls in love with you for it.

A/N: This is my first fic EVER! I was too excited to get it proof read by my bestie so all mistakes are my own. Check the tags at the end for a funny surprise.

Word Count: 7,300+ (Sorry, I went crazy)

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Mattheo had never been one of those who could be influenced by tears. With who his father was he learned very quickly as a child that tears equated to weakness, and weakness was never allowed.

Even at times where previous flings had sobbed after being tossed aside or cried for cuddles after sex, it didn’t move him. After all, he’d always made it clear that he wasn’t a romantic. He’d have his fun and move on, he never gave any indication that it would be more meaningful than that. Because of this he’d been called a “cold hearted bastard” more times than he could count.

Which is why the first time he saw you cry he swore something was wrong with him. Seeing your puffy, red cheeks, your quivering, plump bottom limp and wide, watery eyes he felt like someone sent a stinging hex right to his gut. Your eyes were trained right on a laughing Enzo.

Now it wasn’t completely uncommon for Enzo to make a girl cry. After all, he too would flirt his way into one of their classmates beds from time to time. Though Enzo prided himself on having a kind, prince-like persona publicly, so he kept all of his trysts and crying ex-lovers deeply hidden from public view. So it was unusual for Enzo to be seen with a crying girl in public, right in the middle of the hallway near the potions classroom.

The closer Mattheo got the clearer he could see that you had not actually cried yet. Your eyes were full of unshed tears, and by the look of your puffed up cheeks and bitten bottom lip you were clearly attempting not to cry. Oddly to him, this didn’t lessen the weird sensation in his stomach. It only made him slightly angry at his friend for a reason he couldn’t even name.

Your eyes flickered to him for a brief moment before settling back on a smiling Enzo.

“Fine,” you said in a defeated tone, “You win. You can borrow my notes for Transfiguration. But this is the last time Enzo!”

Enzo’s smile widened as he picked you up in an embrace and spun you around. Immediately your face brightened and your giggles echoed in the empty hallway.

“That’s my favorite Hufflepuff!” Enzo teased, ruffling your hair, “Next time just agree before you lose another bet and turn into a little crybaby.”

Your giggles turned into a playful pout, “Hey! You cheated! You have longer legs than I do! And the staircase moved on my way down! You’d cry too if you ran as much as I did and still lost.”

Enzo let out a chuckle and shook his head, “Well maybe don’t propose a race next time. It was your idea after all. I play quidditch love, there isn’t a world in which you win against me.”

“Whatever, I’ll win the next bet, you’ll see!”

You stuck your tongue out at Enzo and turned around, walking away from Enzo much more cheerfully than Mattheo expected for a girl whose eyes were bursting with tears when he walked into this hallway.

“In your dreams love!” Enzo called after you, earning a swift middle finger from behind your back. Mattheo stopped behind Enzo, pure confusion over witnessing the entire interaction between you two. The assumption that you were one of Enzo’s fangirls or jilted ex-lovers was clearly off the table, but he still couldn’t make sense of the welled up tears in your eyes.

“Girl trouble Enz?” Mattheo hummed, curiosity thoroughly peaked by you and the strange feelings you brought on.

Enzo, now aware that Mattheo had witnessed the entire exchange smirked, “Nah, nothing like that. She’s just fun to tease, is all.” And with that Enzo ducked into the Potions classroom, leaving Mattheo not entirely satisfied with the answer. Nonetheless, he brushed off his gut feelings and whatever thoughts swirled in his head. He likely wouldn’t have an opportunity to interact with you again, he and his friends never kept one girl around too long, even if she was entertaining.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he followed after Enzo to their table in class.

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When Mattheo entered the Slytherin common room after smoking in the Astronomy Tower he was not prepared to find you on the couch with Enzo, this time actually crying. Though you were also laughing hysterically because Enzo happened to be tickling your feet.

“How dare you! How dare you say I’m not your favorite Slytherin!” Enzo chided, gleeful smile on his face as he tickled the sock covered soles of your feet. He slowed to a stop, holding your ankles in his lap to keep you from escaping.

“I didn’t say you weren’t!” You giggled, voice breathless because of your laughter, “I said I don’t know the other Slytherins so I can’t pick a favorite!”

Enzo smirked, “Not good enough!”, and with that he resumed tickling your feet. Your laughter and squeals bouncing around the common room.

Mattheo couldn’t help but stare, he and the guys never brought girls to the dorms, and certainly never sat together in the common room. Your yellow skirt and robe were a beacon in the dark and cold that was the Slytherin common room, Salazar Slytherin himself would have a conniption if he saw a giggling Hufflepuff on the couch. And yet, there you were with Enzo, both laughing as if this was not peculiar at all.

“Say it! Say I’m your favorite!” Enzo demanded, his fingers still torturing the pads of your feet.

“Okay!” You laughed, “Enzo is my favorite Slytherin!” You were attempting to wiggle your ankles free from Enzo’s grasp and escape the tickling torture but Enzo kept an iron grip, not satisfied with your answer.

“And?”

“And I’ll always share my notes with him!” You squealed, completely out of breath from all the laughter. Enzo, seemingly satisfied with your answer finally released your feet, which you immediately tucked under your lap, still wheezing from laughter.

“Enzo,” you huffed, “You’re a spoiled brat, you know that?”

“You love it, crybaby.” Enzo winked. His head turned and noticed Mattheo staring at them, still trying to make sense of the scene before him. “Mattheo! Come here, meet my little Hufflepuff!”

Mattheo strode over and sat on the chair opposite to them, eyes flickering between the two of them. The addition of his presence made you seem more shy now, as if you were embarrassed to be caught with Enzo like this, you refused to make eye contact with him and your cheeks were a little blushed.

“Y/N this is Mattheo, Mattheo this is Y/N. She’s my transfiguration partner and the cutest girl in Hogwarts.”

Your blush seemed to bloom even redder from the compliment. But your eyes shyly made contact with him and a soft smile graced your face.

“Hi, ignore Enzo, he’s just trying to get into my good graces after tickle torturing me and making me tutor him for two hours.”

Mattheo muttered a low ‘hello’ and quietly trudged to his room, door slamming with much more force than he intended. His heart was pounding and he felt surge of envy towards Enzo.

Enzo was right, you were cute, and even though your face was streaked with laughter induced tears and wild hair from wiggling on the couch, Mattheo thought you looked adorable. He’d never thought that tears could be cute before, but there you were with a soft smile and bubbling laughter. These thoughts and feelings were all new to him, it made him feel suffocated and embarrassed, but he was Mattheo Riddle for Salazar’s Sake! Mattheo Riddle doesn’t run from anything, let alone cute girls. Yet he knew he couldn’t just sit there under your pretty gaze and risk making a fool of himself. Enzo would never let him live it down.

Outside in the common room he could hear you ask Enzo if you said something wrong. Now he felt like an asshole, of course you were too sweet to think he was the problem. Mattheo closed his eyes and flopped onto his bed. He could hear Enzo comfort you, saying ‘Mattheo’s just an ass’ and offering to walk you back to your dorm.

For whatever reason, hearing that made him sort of agitated. He wanted to walk you to your dorm, and he’d be his usual charming self and make you laugh and blush, then you’d direct your smile at him and maybe that’d make him feel better. Maybe he’d even kiss you, and that thought warmed him in a different way. Mattheo groaned, just thinking of kissing you burned his mind with other ideas, less innocent things with you, where your sweet, shy smile turned into something sultry and pleading, he could feel his dick harden and more thoughts bloomed, each one more tantalizing than the last.

Mattheo’s door opened and Enzo walked in with Theo following behind. Theo just looked at him, nodding casually before turning to his side of the room, but Enzo’s eyes were dancing with mischief, a Cheshire grin already etched into his face.

“Very smooth, Matty-boy.” Enzo teased.

Mattheo fixed him with a glare, he hated when anyone called him Matty. “Don’t call me that, and I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Enzo’s smile widened, eyes alight, “Oh no? You don’t want to talk about how cute, little Y/N said one sentence to you and you ran off?”

Theo’s head shot up at that, looking between his two dorm mates with mild interest. Theo always had an uncanny way of reading Mattheo, which right now really irked him since Enzo was stirring the pot.

“I didn’t run off, I’m tired.” Mattheo grumbled, “Why did you even bring her here? We don’t bring flings here.” He had a feeling there was no such relationship between you and Enzo, but he couldn’t help but try and fish for more information.

“You brought a girl here?” Theo asked incredulously, his interest now fully invested.

Enzo rolled his eyes, “She’s not a fling, we’re friends. We were doing homework together after we got kicked out of the library.”

“Didn’t seem like homework when you were tickling her.” Mattheo grumbled, the memory flashing in his mind with a new wave of annoyance.

“You were tickling a girl here?” Theo echoed.

“Jealous?” Enzo directed at Mattheo before he turned to Theo, “Theo, she’s a Hufflepuff and so much fun to mess with. It’s not like that.”

“So, you wouldn’t mind if I flirted with her?” Theo drawled. Mattheo’s head snapped to Theo, he could feel acid in his throat thinking of Theo flirting with you. Theo’s eyes were already on him, eyebrow quirked, his expression knowing. Mattheo glared back at him and turned away, he knew he shouldn’t care what Theo or Enzo did with you, but he did, and that pissed him off more.

Enzo laughed wholeheartedly, “Sure, but if you’re not serious she’ll sniff out your bullshit. When I first met her I flirted with her for her notes and she stepped on my foot so hard I had to go to Madam Pomfrey!”

Theo chuckled, “Alright, so she’s off limits then.”

“You’re fucking right she is. I actually do want to be friends with her, I don’t need you assholes scarring her for life with your flirting. It’s already going to be an uphill battle with how hellish Draco and Pansy can be.”

“So we’ll be seeing more of her?” Theo questioned, and for once Mattheo was glad for Theo’s inquisitive nature, the same question burning in his mind. He wanted to see more of Y/N, his mind flickering back to those not so innocent thoughts.

“Yeah, probably.” And with that, the conversation seemed to be over, Mattheo’s lack of talking not going unnoticed by his two friends. They shared a look, coming to the exact same seemingly impossible conclusion: Mattheo had a crush.

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Enzo’s casual affirmation was an understatement, as the next day he invited his Hufflepuff to sit with them in the Great Hall at breakfast. She was smiling up at Enzo when he brought her over, then turning her smile to all of them at the table. She shot Mattheo a shy smile and wave before settling between Enzo and Blaise.

Pansy and Draco both offering indifferent greetings before turning to each other and continuing their conversation. Theo, Blaise and you began an intense discussion about potions, Enzo offering a comment here and there while he ate breakfast. Mattheo could only look around at his friends in confusion, his group not known to be friendly with people outside of Slytherin, or even with others in Slytherin for that matter. Draco and Pansy being the worst of two but they barely even acknowledged you and continued what they were doing. Blaise and Theo were known to be standoffish and yet here they were joking with you about potions.

“They know her, dumbass.”

Mattheo’s eyes shot to Enzo across from him, his face looking smug. Everyone else was so wrapped up in their conversations they didn’t hear what Enzo had whispered.

“What?” Mattheo asked.

“You look confused,” Enzo clarified, stopping to take a bite of his Apple, “They all know her, she’s been in all of our classes since second year.”

Mattheo nodded in understanding, eyes flickering back to the sweet Hufflepuff, who had now drawn Pansy and Draco into the conversation, the five of them debating whether or not Professor Snape used shampoo. Her face was glowing with happiness, every time she laughed he could see the flutter of her full lashes. His mind echoed the strange desire to count each lash.

He liked her laughing. The two times he’d seen her teary he thought she’d been cute, the frustration tears from chasing Enzo and the tears from laughing too hard, it was easy to find her adorable, but seeing her carefree and laughing filled his chest with yearning, he wanted her light to shine on him, even just for a moment. Yes, he much preferred her like this, hopefully he wouldn’t have to see her cry for a long while.

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Mattheo didn’t know how many different ways someone could cry until he met you.

Now fully adopted into his friend group he’s seen you cry over something with each of his friends and it confused him. He always assumed crying meant a person felt sad, that there were no other reasons to cry. The first time he saw tears in your eyes he added exhaustion as an acceptable reason to cry. Then he added laughter after the common room tickle incident. He figured that’d be it.

Until he found you and Pansy swaddled in blankets in her room listening to a muggle artist named Olivia Rodrigo and eating ice cream. He’d only stopped by to return a book he borrowed from Pansy the week before, he knocked and the door cracked open and he saw your tear streaked face and Pansy huddled on the floor, her face was turned away from him but he heard her sniffles.

He fumbled out an explanation about the book and you accepted it from him with a small smile. After the door had closed he heard the music blast to full volume.

He’d never thought Pansy would ever cry, she’d always felt like such expressions were beneath her. He was also very much confused on why you were crying, which made him worried something had happened to both of you. It wasn’t until later that Theo and Enzo told him that Pansy and Luna had broken up and you had decided some girl time was much needed to “feel your feelings” and listen to sad songs.

He’d never considered sympathy crying, but there you were with Pansy, sharing her pain. He admired you for it, your kindness knowing no limits.

The next day Pansy threatened to cut off his dick if he ever told anyone he’d seen her cry, though he was honest and said he actually hadn’t seen anything, and she seemed comforted by that fact. After Pansy seemed to be lighter almost, and she became as protective of you as Enzo, which became clear after Adrian Pucey cornered you in the hallway to harass you for a date. Enzo broke his nose and Pansy sent a hex that had Adrian vomiting hair clumps for a week. Mattheo would deny it but he also paid Adrian a visit after the hex had worn off and threatened a whole lot worse than a broken nose and a gross hex if Adrian so much as breathed in your direction.

The lust Mattheo felt for you still burned but there was something else, something new to him. Something that made him want to comfort you and protect you, to have you look for him for safety. Now, he didn’t just want your body, he wanted your undivided attention.

Mattheo tried to brush off these thoughts. He was no romantic, you were too sweet and nice to get wrapped up in something with him. As soon as it ended, you’d be crushed and Pansy and Enzo would likely make him suffer for hurting you. He told himself he just felt this way because you were friends, and friends is what you’d have to stay to be safe from him.

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Quidditch hardly interested you, Mattheo found out. Occasionally you volunteered with Madam Pomfrey and you’d seen enough quidditch injures to give you too much anxiety to watch the game. So whenever he and the boys played you’d skip up to them with boxes of baked goods to wish them luck and left on your merry way to watch the infirmary so Madam Pomfrey could supervise the game.

Surprisingly, Draco had been won over through his stomach. His indifference morphed into a kind of bland acknowledgement until he’d gotten the first good luck treats of the season, then he became outright friendly towards you. But when he’d caught the snitch the first time that year you’d made the whole team a whole fleet of chocolate lava cakes and candied fruit. Draco had sworn all of it was for him but after that he had taken on a kind of pseudo-brother relationship with you.

Conversely, you and Blaise bonded over your distinguished and varied adoration of books, often times swapping between yourselves. Blaise alleged that you were the only one he could read around because you weren’t “a distracting idiot” like Enzo and Draco or “an eternal gossip” like Pansy, but Mattheo could see that Blaise just had a soft spot for you like everyone in the group. Every time they went to Hogsmeade together you and Blaise would peel off to Flourish and Blotts, always coming back with more books. Of course, Blaise being chivalrous meant you never carried your own books despite your protests. The more time they spent in Hogsmeade the longer your books would get passed around to be carried until they always landed in Mattheo’s hands. Though he didn’t mind because you would smile sweetly at him when they returned to Hogwarts and thanked him for carrying your books.

Yes, Draco and Blaise had become like brothers to you. So when Madam Pomfrey rushed them to the infirmary both bruised with multiple broken bones Mattheo had seen all the color drain from your face.

None of the team was allowed to be in the infirmary so the last thing he could see was your crushed expression and tears welling up in your eyes. Theo, Pansy, Enzo and him had paced outside the hallway until Madam Pomfrey had shooed them away to go rest, telling them they could visit in the morning.

Mattheo had hardly slept the entire night. His two friends unconscious and battered and your crestfallen face had haunted him. As soon as he could reasonably leave the dorm he rushed to the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips upon seeing him, knowing he had not rested but allowed him to visit anyway, despite it still being too early.

Draco and Blaise laid in their beds, looking much better than when they’d arrived. Whatever Madam Pomfrey had given them was slowly repairing the bones and easing the bruising on their bodies, their sleeping faces looked peaceful so it was clear they weren’t in pain. In between the two of their beds was you, huddled into yourself on a chair.

Hearing Mattheo approach had made you lift your head from the floor. Your eyes were puffy from exhaustion, your usual bright smile gone and replaced by a mournful frown. You were wearing the same clothes from yesterday so he knew you’d stayed by their side all night and likely not slept.

He stood in front of you, not sure what to say and as he looked at you he saw fresh tears gather in your eyes and your lip was trembling. Before he could say anything you’d lept from the chair and wrapped your arms around him, holding him tightly as silent sobs wracked your body.

Mattheo had never been hugged like this. He was fairly certain he’d never been hugged ever. But here you were, clinging to him and crying into his chest. His heart ached feeling your tears soak into his shirt, you couldn’t keep your sobs silent anymore, now fully weeping on him. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on top of yours.

He just held you as you bawled. Though this situation was less than ideal it felt good that he could be here for you, comforting you. Your body was enveloped in his and he was reminded how small you were, so fragile but so strong at the same time. He wondered how long you’d held yourself together before he got here. That thought made him embrace you tighter, at least he could be here for you now. He told himself he’d keep holding you until you were ready to let go.

Your sobs had turned into little whimpers and sniffles, but you didn’t let go of him. Your head stirred underneath him and he looked down at you, seeing you staring up at him. Your wide eyes glassy and cheeks red, dried tear tracks on your face. The word beautiful flashed through his mind, somehow no matter what you did you always managed to look perfect to him.

“T-thanks Matty,” you voice quivered, “Er, I mean Mattheo.” Your cheeks were already red from crying, though Mattheo desperately wanted to believe they got a little bit pinker.

“You can call me Matty.” His voice was somewhat hoarse and raspy from fatigue. Her lips quirked up slightly and then she sighed and closed her eyes.

She slowly unwrapped her arms from him and dropped them to her side, looking back at Draco and Blaise. His body felt empty and cold after you let go, he felt the urge to pull you back but stifled it, as exhaustion was currently winning over his body.

Mattheo looked around and saw a spare blanket and two pillows. He quickly grabbed them, dropping them on the floor between the two beds with his friends. He sat on the floor, with one pillow behind his head against the wall. He pat the spot next to him and down you came, sitting next to him with the other pillow behind your head. He spread the blanket over the two of you and your head came to rest against his shoulder. His eyes closed and then sleep claimed the both of you.

He woke up to a flick on his forehead. He was still propped up against the wall with you ully leaned against his body, still dozing. Draco stood in front of him, the obvious perpetrator of the flick against his head, he was changed out of the hospital clothing but had various bandages and wraps on his body. Blaise was next to him leaning against the hospital bed he’d been spent the night in in, displaying a similar number of bandages. Both of them wearing smirks on their faces aimed at Mattheo and the Hufflepuff curled against him.

“Cozy?” Draco teased.

Mattheo rolled his eyes with a smile, clearly his friends were alright if they were feeling up to making fun of him.

“She stayed here all night for you dopes and we were tired,” Mattheo grunted, “Clearly you’re both feeling better though.”

His friend’s teasing smirks fell and they looked guiltily at the sleeping girl.

“Y’know she’s going to fuss over us when she wakes up.” Blaise admitted, Draco nodded with a sigh.

“She’ll probably cry.” Draco sighed. Not one of the three boys were looking forward to seeing their friend cry.

“I’ve gotta start carrying around some tissues for her,” Mattheo blurted. Blaise and Draco laughed at that, nodding in agreement and joking the whole group should start carrying some.

The boys’ laughter stirred the Hufflepuff and she blinked her tired eyes open. At seeing Blaise and Draco awake and standing in front of her she shot right up, discarding the blanket on the floor.

“Blaise! Draco! Oh thank Merlin! How are you feeling? Are you supposed to be standing up? Do you need water? I’ll go get Madam Pomfrey to clean your bandages!” You rattled off, mind clearly spinning off with things to help the two injured Quidditch players. Luckily Blaise grabbed your hand, pulling you from your thoughts.

“We’re fine. Madam Pomfrey is letting us go today. We’re coming back everyday for the next week for the medicine and check ups.” Blaise seemed to sooth you with this, you nodded absentmindedly. Without your brain taking over you really looked at Draco and Blaise and, just as the boys predicted, you started shedding tears. You grabbed both boys and pulled them towards you, both giving you a half hug as you cried. Through your sobs you started babbling your relief about how they were both okay and making them promise to never have to come here half comatose they way they did.

In the span of a couple of hours your waterworks had turned from fear to relief and Mattheo was glad to see his friends being fussed over by someone so sweet and caring. Your tears were short lived, as Blaise and Draco did their best to make you smile. Your sniffling turned to giggles when Draco’s stomach made a loud gurgle and he moaned about being starving, in typical dramatic Malfoy fashion.

You had stepped away to thank Madam Pomfrey for allowing you to stay and taking care of your friends. Though the older woman swore it was her job to care for all students and softly chided you for sleeping on the floor even she seemed to fall victim to your charm, hurrying you out the infirmary and promising to see you next time you volunteered.

“Mr. Riddle, a word please.” Madam Pomfrey said before he could follow you, Draco and Blaise out the door. He nodded to his friends that he’d catch up with them, trying not to think too hard about your worried look.

“I do try not to meddle in my student’s affairs,” Madam Pomfrey started, “But my dear apprentice has been here since midday yesterday and hasn’t eaten anything or slept, aside from your two hour nap on the floor,” the older woman gave a quick glare, “so if you’d please make sure your girlfriend eats and goes straight to bed, I would greatly appreciate it.”

Mattheo nodded dumbstruck, a satisfied Madam Pomfrey led him out the door.

Girlfriend. Madam Pomfrey thought you and Mattheo were dating. Mattheo once found dating any one repulsive, but he thought about your sweet smiles and angelic laughter and suddenly the idea of dating was inviting, so long as he was dating you. And that was terrifying thought, Mattheo didn’t think himself boyfriend material, but the idea of seeing you date anyone else, or Merlin forbid one of his friends, made him nauseous. He conceded that maybe these feelings would fade after some time, after all, you didn’t give him any indication that you wanted to be more.

Taking Madam Pomfrey’s words seriously he met up with you, Blaise and Draco. After all four of you were fed he suggested they all get rest, Draco and Blaise didn’t argue, their exhaustion kicking in from their injuries, but you pouted, not wanting to go back to your own dorm alone. Mattheo wasn’t immune to your puppy dog eyes so he offered his own bed so you could be with everyone. Draco and Blaise shared a knowing look, but you beamed up at him and happily trotted along with them to their dorms.

Enzo and Theo were still sleeping, likely to be out until afternoon so as quietly as they could Blaise and Draco went to their own beds, passing out shortly after pulling their blankets around their bodies.

You shed your large yellow knit sweater and yawned, smiling sleepily at Mattheo. He smiled and tilted his head to his bed, offering it to the kindly Hufflepuff. After removing her shoes she slipped under the covers, he could tell she was struggling to stay awake.

“Are you coming to bed too?”

Her question made his neck feel hot, she looked at his innocently, eyes fluttering. If he got in that bed with her, he knew he’d never let go of whatever feelings were developing for her. He slowly shook his head, ready to lie to her and say he wasn’t tired, that he was going to go shower or study or literally anything other than get into his bed with her.

“Please Matty?” You pouted. Merlin, he was a goner. He sighed softly and slipped under the covers with you, trying to keep a respectful distance. This whole situation had his body burning and mind in overdrive. You smiled happily and let out a small giggle, wishing him goodnight and then allowing sleep to take you.

Truthfully, he didn’t think he’d be able to sleep. His mind and body kicked into chaos at the proximity of the beautiful Hufflepuff. But he was actually tired, and your soft snores helped him relax and he was able to fall asleep as well.

That sleep was short-lived, as he only slept for about two hours. When he woke up you were completely tucked into his body, still snoring, with his arms wrapped around you. Luckily, everyone else was still completely knocked out. Against his urges he detached himself from your cuddling, thanking whatever higher power that no one witnessed the intimate moment, and slipped into the bathroom for a cold shower to cool his fevered skin.

The next day, he went to Hogsmeade and picked up a single green handkerchief with a snake and his initials embroidered into the fabric. He’d never tell anyone but he always kept it in his pocket, just in case.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Mattheo knew Theo didn’t care for his birthday, after his mother had passed his father became cruel and he never had another birthday. When Enzo had mentioned it in passing at dinner, Theo had told you himself he didn’t celebrate it.

Mattheo, now attuned to your expressions, saw a glimmer of sadness flickering behind your eyes, followed by a flash of determination. You hadn’t said much after that, but he saw the gears in your head turning.

A week later on Theo’s birthday Enzo had dashed into the common room, asking all of them to follow him to the Room of Requirement. The whole walk there was tense, Mattheo could tell by Theo’s expression that if it was a big party he was going to be pissed. You were mysteriously missing most of the week, or dashing away quickly so he assumed you had planned something, with Enzo’s help of course.

When they pushed into the room there was no party. Instead there were soft string lights hanging from the ceiling, a fire going in an intricate stone fireplace and a swirling emerald green carpet guiding them further into the room. Just a few steps further and there you were, covered in flour and wearing an apron with splashes of food stains. In front of you was a table with only seven seats set, a cacophony of steaming food on top.

Mattheo and his friends had their mouths agape, trying to take in the extravagance around them. They knew you loved to cook, having been on the receiving end of endless, delicious desserts. But never before had you cooked an actual feast for them. He looked to Theo, who was not looking at the lights or the fireplace or even the food, his deep gaze on you.

Mattheo saw a nervous smile take hold of your face and watched your hands tug on each other, clearly nervous about Theo’s reaction.

“Um… I made it,” you pushed out, “I remembered you said once you missed your Mom’s cooking so I made a bunch of Italian dishes. Y-your Mom probably made them better but I did my best. I even made Mostaccioli! I remember you said it was your favorite…” Your nervousness getting the better of you. No one said anything, all looking at Theo for his reaction.

Theo strode up to you, his face not showing anything, and he pulled you into a hug. Theo, who hated unnecessary touching, was hugging you. Mattheo even swore he heard Theo mumble “I love it.”

When your arms came around Theo’s broad back Mattheo got a glimpse of your face. Your eyes were closed, tears leaking out of the corners and a soft, peaceful smile on your face.

Mattheo didn’t know what to call these types of tears. It felt bigger than the other ones he’d seen. These tears felt sweet and sad at the same time, like you and Theo had a secret understanding. Looking at you and Theo embrace felt like a private, raw moment, but he couldn’t look away. He decided to deem these: bittersweet tears.

Theo let you go and you chuckled and wiped the sides of your eyes. You beamed at everyone and invited them to sit down and eat.

And as Mattheo sat down next to you, with a messy apron, covered in flour and a cheery grin on your face, Mattheo couldn’t help but think you more radiant than he’s ever seen you.

And even though Theo refused to share the Mostaccioli with any of them, it was easily the best meal of Mattheo’s life, love and attention baked into everything you made. His friends more carefree and happy than he’d ever seen them, laughing and joking.

When you left to get the cake you made that was cooling by the room’s kitchen area Theo leaned over to him and whispered, “If you don’t make a move soon, I’m going to marry that girl.” Mattheo froze like a deer in headlights, but Theo just grinned at him and sipped his champagne.

Mattheo tried to ignore Theo’s words but they sat heavy in his mind. Ever since he started carrying around a handkerchief for you, he barely even noticed other girls. He can’t even remember the last time he accepted a girl’s invite to her dorm. He only ever thought about you, and instead of fear and uncertainty now he only felt warmth and longing when he imagined you and him together. It surprised him how much he wanted all of it. He wanted to kiss you, to hold you, to have you laugh at his jokes, to smile at him, to worship you in any and every way you’d let him. The realization that he was completely smitten with you pierced through his whole body. Theo was right, you had to be his.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Finding you alone was damn near impossible, Mattheo found out. If it wasn’t his own friends it was literally everyone else in the entire castle. Apparently your light touched everyone at Hogwarts, as every time he tried to get a moment to ask you on a date someone would appear and ruined the moment.

At first he didn’t mind. When the Weasley twins approached you with a new invention, something they called the Zinger Wing Giggle Ball you had been too excited to test it for them. Even Mattheo would admit a ball that flies around making teasing, sarcastic remarks and giggling was funny. Even more so when it scared the daylights out of Mrs. Norris and chased her all through the halls calling her “a dirty flobberworm with legs and a tail”. You, of course, had felt bad for Filch and his tattle-cat but even so, you couldn’t help but laugh along too.

Then there were the professors, Mattheo didn’t realize how much volunteering you did for everyone. Professor Sprout requesting your assistance with the odd plant in the greenhouse or Hagrid wanting you to come witness whatever mysterious beast he’d found that week and log their abilities. Even Snape, who never seemed to like any of his students, would approach you for helping him stock his precious ingredients closet. How you made time for anyone was beyond Mattheo, but he was determined still.

His friends seemed to be the worst of all, they seemed almost determined to not let him have a moment alone with you. No matter where he was with you at least one of them would appear. When he’d finally gotten tired of it he gathered them all and told them he was trying to ask you on a date, a real ’not Mattheo being a fuckboi’ date, by Pansy’s words, not his. Of course with who his friends were and how fiercely protective they were over you, they grilled him for over an hour about his intentions. When they were finally satisfied galleons passed around into Theo and Enzo’s hands. Those fuckers had placed bets amongst themselves on whether or not Mattheo would ever figure out his feelings and ask you out. If Mattheo wasn’t so annoyed he’d be a little touched that his two best friends had faith in him.

And now, here he was. There were no classes today, and almost everyone in the castle was at Hogsmeade. He knew you were somewhere, his friends confirming you weren’t coming that day and had chosen to stay behind. He’d looked for you everywhere, he had even bribed a younger year Hufflepuff with chocolate frogs to check if you were in your room. It felt like another day of failure for him. It was two hours before everyone would come back, he knew that it would be impossible to get you alone after that. He dragged his feet up to the astronomy tower, hoping to take a quick smoke to clear his head.

But he heard a familiar sniffle from the stairs. As quietly as he could he peaked out from the staircase and there he spotted your familiar tuft of hair and bright yellow knit sweater. He approached you, nerves bursting in his body until he felt his stomach drop. You were crying.

“What happened?” Mattheo questioned. His voice made you jump and when you looked at him, he saw your familiar puffy, red cheeks and watery wide eyes.

“Hi Matty,” you said softly, “Its nothing. Just something stupid.” You sniffled, trying to wipe your tears with the sleeve of your sweater. He pulled out his handkerchief from his pocket and passed it to you. You looked at him gratefully and accepted it, wiping your face with the soft, expensive fabric.

“You’d never cry for something stupid.” He corrected. He could remember every instance he’d seen you cry, nothing had ever been stupid about them. He sat next to you on the floor. You sighed, twisting your fingers nervously.

“Someone called me a Slytherin whore.”

Mattheo could have gotten whiplash with how fast his head snapped to you. Mattheo tried not to let his fury show. He really tried, knowing that his anger could potentially scare you.

“Who?”

“…Does it matter?”

“Who?”

“It’s not worth it.”

“Who?”

He didn’t mean to take a tone with you, but he was trying to figure out what asshole he was going to beat the shit out of. Then he’d let his friends have their turn.

“Adrian Pucey.”

That son of a bitch. That idiot couldn’t learn the first time. Screw the quidditch team, they’d find another chaser. When Mattheo was finished with him Pucey wouldn’t be able to go near a broom for at least six months.

“Is that what people think of me?”

Mattheo was so focused on his rage he didn’t even see you deflating at his side. As he looked at you he realized you weren’t just hurt by Pucey’s words, you believed them.

“No, no one believes that. No one with a brain anyway.” Mattheo assured you. He would cast his anger aside for now, you needed him more.

“I just-“ you groaned, holding your face in your hands, “I know I can be… clingy and a crybaby and maybe I do spend too much time with you guys, but I feel like you guys are my best friends and I like being around you guys and I feel like you guys like me around or maybe you just tolerate me but I feel like that shouldn’t make me a whore and I-“ Mattheo had let you babble long enough. He held your face in his hands and turned your head so you could look at him head on.

“Listen to me,” He demanded, “You are not a whore. Nothing you do or say could make you that. Understand?”

You nodded in his hands.

“We do like you being around because we like you. You aren’t clingy or a crybaby. Do you cry? Yes. Is it a perfectly normal reaction? Yes. You’ve made all of our lives better. Pansy has someone she actually likes to do girl stuff with. Draco knows someone outside of our fucked up group and his Mom cares about him. Theo had one of the best fucking birthdays of his life since his Mom died. All because of you! Don’t let some asshole that I’m going to punch in the teeth make you feel like you’re anything less than a ray of sunshine of every single life you touch.”

Mattheo hadn’t realized your hands were cupping his own. You were smiling at him, eyes watery, he wiped a stray tear off your cheek. Your glassy orbs flashed with vulnerability.

“What about you, Matty? Have I made your life better?”

“Better doesn’t even begin to describe what you’ve done to my life.”

More tears were flowing from your eyes but before Mattheo could wipe them away with his hands you threw yourself into his arms, toppling him over and kissed him.

Any thoughts in Mattheo’s head flew out the window as soon as your lips touched his. Your delicate fingers holding his face lovingly and your soft lips pressed against his own. He brought his hands up to your waist, lightly caressing the skin there that was exposed by your shirt and sweater riding up. The a flurry of peace flooded Mattheo’s body, it was as if his entire being was releasing a sigh of relief, a single thought echoed throughout his body: finally.

Unfortunately, youpulled away, your cheeks flushed. Mattheo was laying on the floor underneath you so you ended up right in his lap, which, looking from his point of view, was so fucking tempting.

“I’m going to marry the fuck out of you.”

Mattheo meant it but blurting it out had not been his intention, his brain still reeling from the kiss. Nonetheless, you giggled, airy and light like a tinkling bell.

“How about a date first, Matty?” You teased.

“It’s a start.” Mattheo sat up, pulling your legs tighter around his waist so he could pull you even closer to him. Your fingers started to entangle in his hair and he looked up at you, pure adoration in your eyes, “Do I get to call you mine now?”

“I’ve been yours Matty.”

He hummed happily, pulling your face down to kiss you again.

#and then pucey got his ass kicked #and then pansy tells everyone he's got a small dingaling #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #oneshot #slytherin boys #x reader #soft mattheo #mattheo fluff

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hanniesbrat · 3 months ago

Text

drunk in love | yjh

NSFW | MDNI!!

genre: friends -> fwb -> lovers, angst, smut, fluff

pairing: yoon jeonghan x fem!reader

WC: 6.7k

cw: drinking, angry jeonghan bc i said so, smut, exhibitionism pretty much, spanking, degradation (he calls you a "slut" and "whore" a couple times :3), unprotected sex, creampie, choking, cucking (poor josh but also he had it coming), pet names ("pretty girl", "baby", and "princess"), oral (f rec), little bit of butt stuff, mc has a LOT of internal thoughts/ dialog lol, possessive jeonghan, possessive jeonghan, and possessive jeonghan. lmk if i missed anything !!

synopsis: when a game of truth, dare, or drink with the boys turns to shit (thanks to hoshi and josh), jeonghan has no choice but to prove himself to be the best dick you've ever had ): (SPOILER: he is. oh he most definitely IS the best dick you've ever had)

! nsfw content below the cut. mdni !

you’ve known the boys for years.

you’d met mingyu back in your senior year of highschool. both of you being on the friendly, outgoing side of introversion, he knew he had to introduce you to his rather large group of friends once you guys graduated.

and wow was your life was never the same.

you had a group of down to earth boys (men) who all looked after you like no one else had. a friend group that people could only ever dream of. no one got upset if you chose to hang out with only one of them for a day, rather than the whole group. if you wanted to go out clubbing with your girlfriends, they all knew you had 13 body guard options to call before heading out. and the best part, your best friend of the group might as well be a professional chef. you never had to worry about going hungry or even cooking as long as you had mingyu around.

other than mingyu, you ended up gravitating toward minghao, jihoon, seungcheol, and jeonghan. almost entirely separate, but sometimes you, seungcheol, and jeonghan would go out on a weeknight for some 2am ihop.

the last thing you or anyone else had expected however, was for you and jeonghan to develop a “situationship” of sorts together.

over the last couple months, you both started developing what you thought were strictly sexual feelings toward each other. now, you weren’t so sure. you knew your feelings were turning into something far deeper than just lust, but you quickly tried to shut them down in fear of ruining your initial friendship with him. tried to. you also were terrified to face those feelings because… you had no idea how he felt. other than the occasional secret or rant that he needed to share with you that he couldn’t share with the boys, jeonghan was pretty emotionally reserved. you had NO idea how he actually felt about you beyond friendly and horny.

until that night.

truth, dare, or drink was a game that you played with the boys every once in awhile when you guys were feeling frisky. normally, it came to one of your brains once you guys had already been drinking through the night.

in tonight’s game, jeonghan thought it’d be funny to dare jihoon to lean over and give you a kiss. childish. so childish. you could tell he just didn’t have any better idea in his buzzed brain.

“awww don’t be a pussy, jihoon!” jeonghan taunted him. he was leaning backward due to you being sandwiched between the two boys at the table, jihoon to your left, jeonghan to your right.

“nah i’m not touching her, hannie. you’re funny” jihoon chuckled, throwing back the clear liquid.

“heyyyy rude!” you pouted, crossing your arms playfully, a smile threatening to pull at your mouth.

“tsss…” jihoon put down the shot glass. “jeonghan would kill me, y/n” he chuckled. then, “ow!” he yelled, still laughing.

you whipped your head to jeonghan who was… glaring at jihoon? he’d smacked him upside the head and you had no idea why. you thought jihoon making that comment was just to poke fun at the fact that everyone knew you and jeonghan were basically fuck buddies. however, jeonghan didn’t find it very funny for whatever reason. you playfully pushed his face telling him to lighten up. to that he faintly smiled before putting his elbows on the table and lacing his fingers together in front of his face. he looked like a cartoon villain. what was he so upset about?

“anyways…” you were the next to talk. “soonyoung! your turn!” you enthused leaning back in your seat to look at the boy to the right of jeonghan.

soonyoung jumped out of his seat before nearly screaming, “Y/N!”

“oh fuck.” jihoon mumbled looking into his lap. you broke eye contact with soonyoung to look at jihoon in confusion.

“i’m so sorry to do this.” you looked back up at soonyoung. what the fuck is going on?

“man i swear, if you don’t keep your mouth shut,” jihoon stood up from his chair.

“what? i have to ask!”

“no, no you don’t.” jihoon’s voice was threateningly low, and you now thought you had a hunch as to what’s about to happen. your heart started to race.

“is it true that you and hoon hooked up at last year’s halloween party?!”

“i’m gonna beat your fucking ass-“

you pushed your chair out blocking jihoon’s path before he could follow through. you shot your arm out for good measure to make sure he didn’t try to pass you. he silently turned around and sat back in his chair.

when you turned back around to face soonyoung, you couldn’t help but feel jeonghan’s eyes burning holes into you along with everyone else’s.

“dude, why?” you asked in a low tone.

“whaaaat the game was getting boring! i had to spice things up a bit,” he teased putting a hand on his hip before pointing his finger in your face over jeonghan’s head. “now answer the question or take a shot missy. either way, we’ll know the answer.”

you glared at him intensely sitting back down in your chair and quietly saying “it’s true,” before reaching for the shot in front of you and slamming it anyways. you needed it. you felt jeonghan’s eyes on the side of your face and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. you just locked eyes with mingyu across the table, knowing that even with his shock, his gaze would comfort you nonetheless. it worked. his face quickly went from a “what the fuck?” expression to a reassuring “we’ll talk about this later” look.

“ahem”

no.

“that’s interesting,” josh said from the head of the table.

“josh!” you, seungcheol and mingyu yelled at the same time. they also knew what joshua had to have been thinking, and didn’t want you to endure more embarrassment.

“ i thought i was your only little secret,” he said in a condescending tone, crossing his arms.

your face was hot. “it happened years ago josh!” you were yelling from your seat. “and we haven’t talked about it since! why are you even bringing it up? who cares!”

SLAM! you flinched. jeonghan had punched the table.

“i fucking do!” he yelled shooting up from his chair. “while we’re here,” his voice dropped, placing his palms on the table, leaning forward glancing at everyone. “would anyone else like to confess to fucking y/n?”

“jeonghan,” you reached your hand up to rest on his arm and you felt his muscles stiffen.

“it’s not like that,” jihoon followed up, trying to reassure him. jeonghan wouldn’t look at him. “it was over a year ago. it wasn’t important then, and it’s not important now.”

“it still fucking happened,” he looked over his shoulder down at you. “and you didn’t tell me about it.” his tone was laced with what could only be described as anguish.

“doesn’t seem like she’s told anyone,” josh pettily adds before taking a sip of whatever drink he’d made for himself before the game started.

now you were the one to punch the table but you didn’t stand up. “dammit josh! jihoon and i both agreed we’d pretend like it never happened. it was a mistake. and it happened years after you and i hooked up so why would i tell you out of everyone?! i didn’t even tell mingyu!” you were shaking in your seat. your breath rapid as you were hitting the peak of your anger induced high. shitfaced josh didn’t know when to stop. sober josh would never even slightly push anyone’s buttons the way drunk josh was vigorously punching yours right now (and jeonghan’s).

“well it seems you told mingyu and cheol about us, so what’s the reason for that? was i too good to forget?”

before jeonghan could even start to move toward him you stood up, forcefully holding him back by his shoulder. he froze. “josh…” you started, still keeping your hand on jeonghan to make sure he didn’t try anything. “i told them because i was fucking humiliated, and couldn’t believe that i fucked you.” you spat. “is that what you wanted to hear?” you could’ve sworn in that moment, all of jeonghan’s tension shifted to josh because as jeonghan found his way back into his chair, josh stood up. it didn’t phase you in the slightest.

“you’re fucking lying, y/n. i had to have been the best you ever-”

“fucking watch yourself man,” seungcheol warned, also getting out of his seat to defend you and jeonghan, his best friend.

“oh what? did you fuck her too?”

“that’s it!” jeonghan shot back out of his chair charging toward him.

luckily seungcheol was at the chair right next to josh and managed to get to him before jeonghan, stepping in front of him as some sort of human shield. jeonghan stopped in his tracks, mere inches away from his best friend.

“cheol, move.” he growled.

“walk away jeonghan.” seungcheol tried to calm him down.

“i’m not walking the fuck away. move or i’ll move you myself.”

“hannie, it’s not worth it,” you chimed in, making your way to him. “he [josh] isn’t worth it. what we did isn’t worth it.” joshua scoffed at your comment. you tried to ignore him, knowing that if sober josh was in there somewhere, he was telling his drunk self to just shut the fuck up and go along with all of it. although you really were ashamed of that hookup. you guys were like 19 at the time after all.

“look,” jeonghan turns around to face you. “jihoon? i get it. don’t ask me how or why, but it’s not much of a shock to me. i can suck it up over that.” he pointed his arm out behind him straight at josh, still looking at you. “but him? fucking joshua?” his voice nearly breaking at the end.

“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” josh mumbled.

you and jeonghan ignored him.

“it happened years ago hannie.” it suddenly dawned on you how intense this simple game of truth or dare had turned. as you and jeonghan stared at each other in silence, everyone else waiting for what was gonna happen next, you had a million thoughts running through your mind. why does he care so much ? is it because josh is one of his best friends and he can’t believe josh didn’t tell him? is he… jealous? no. maybe?

it was almost like jeonghan could hear the questions in your head. his face turned into something small and ashamed as he slowly lowered his head looking down at the ground. one last thought was about to run through your head. is he like in lo-

then seungkwan broke the silence, clearing his throat. you both whipped your heads to the other end of the table. everyone else still staring at the two of you. “why don’t we just continue the game. no more stupid bullshit, soonyoung.”

you took a deep breath. “i think i like the sound of that boo,” you held your hand out for jeonghan to take and he did so hesitantly. not until the two of you were fully seated did seungcheol make his way back to his seat. everyone’s eyes moved to josh still standing at the end of table… waiting for him to sit.

“josh?” mingyu spoke up. it was almost like he snapped him out of a trance.

“yeah! yeah let’s keep playing,” he blurted sitting back down.

“alright well i guess it’s my turn then,” seungcheol nervously chuckled. “jun! i dare you to take a shot!”

“what?” jun laughed. collectively the tension in the room withered away as everyone started laughing softly, giving seungcheol confused looks, except for josh. he just sat, straight faced.

“yeah, you’ve barely drank tonight! cmon! either way you have to take a shot soooo…” seokmin added.

“okay okay,” jun smiled while leaning over the table for the bottle.

once he took the shot, everyone carefully looked to joshua who was clearly faking his enthusiasm now. “okay well… i gotta go with y/n!” he said in such a deceptively happy tone, you knew he wasn’t over what had just finally ended for you and literally everyone else at the table.

vernon spoke up for the first time since his last turn probably 15 minutes ago, “please don’t be a dick dude.” he casually took a sip of his drink.

“don’t worry, don’t worryyyy. i just gotta ask her something.”

you watched jeonghan’s face as he stared at his drink in front of him. his jaw was clenched so tight you thought he might shatter his teeth. you put your hand on his thigh under the table to silently tell him you wish josh would shut up just as bad as he did. “why don’t you just leave her alone man?” jeonghan asked calmly not looking away from his glass.

“well i would but there’s just this burning question i have in my head that i can’t shake,” josh was slurring a bit but still thinking about his next words wisely. “y/n,” he was staring into your soul, and you did the same to him, not backing down. “was i not the best you’ve ever had?”

“no,” you immediately answered. “no you weren’t. why do you think i never mentioned it again?” jeonghan smiled to himself looking down in his lap, grabbing your hand that was on his thigh. the gesture was oddly sweet in this bitter situation.

“oh? well then who was the best hm?” josh followed up.

“oh, jeonghan! hands down,” you didn’t even hesitate. his grip on your hand tightened, the grin on his face widening as his eyes stayed locked in his lap. you even heard jihoon softly chuckle behind you.

“bullshit,” josh accused. jeonghan quickly looked up at him, tilting his head ever so slightly. “no way he’s giving it to you better than i did.”

after that comment, everyone collectively started yelling at him to just go to sleep or leave the game, anything to get him to stop his petty remarks. including you. you were still yelling when jeonghan turned to you, cupping your face, “shut the fuck up,” he whispered before grabbing your wrist and forcefully pulling you away from the table. he stopped at the end by josh’s chair.

“fine!” jeonghan exclaimed, silencing everyone. he then leaned in to josh’s ear, “i’ll just let you hear how much better im giving it to her.” and with that jeonghan was dragging you up the stairs at an aggressive pace, not even giving anyone the opportunity to respond.

once you reached the top of the stair case he spun you around in front of him so you were walking backwards. you passed the banister as he started taking off your shirt. your bare chest on display for anyone to see had they looked up from the table down below. you couldn’t care less.

“kiss me,” you whimpered trying not to stumble backward as he’s fondling with the button of your pants. he obeyed, eagerly crashing his lips into yours as you both neared his room. he started turning you to the left and you knew you’d reached your destination. he didn’t push you all the way into his room though.

“if it gets to be too much say ‘stop’,” he breathed before pushing you against his open door and dropping to his knees, immediately pulling your pants down. you stepped out of them without a second thought. is he just gonna fuck me against his open bedroom door?

“fuck!” you gasped out as he dove in after your clothed core. i guess the answer is yes.

“jesus y/n,” he growled moving your underwear to the side. “you’re fucking soaked already,” he continued to lap at your pussy, the annoying fabric now out of the way.

“mmm liked you getting m-mad,” you whispered, not wanting the others to hear your confession. you knew it sounded pathetic.

jeonghan groaned into you in response. you liked him fuming over the thought of someone else fucking you better than he did? if his dick wasn’t pushing to break free from his sweats before, it sure was now.

“fuck, you’re such a slut y/n,” he slurred, now grabbing at your underwear, ripping it on each side down the seams and throwing them right across the hall into josh’s open room.

“hannie what the fuck?” you bemoaned. you’d just bought the lacy fabric the other day for him to admire, not ruin. the fact that he threw them in josh’s room couldn’t be less of a concern to you right now.

he stood up putting his hand around your neck, firmly pressing you against the door. “what?” he asked innocently, taunting you before crashing his lips back into yours. you moaned into the kiss, desperate for him to touch you again.

as if he’d read your mind, he used his free hand to pull down the waistband of his sweats, finally letting his dick breathe. he put his cock in between your legs, basically fucking your thighs. the subtle friction against your clit was enough to send you spiraling. you were over his teasing and torture.

“hannie, please,” you panted.

“please what?” he mocked, still rutting against the heat between your legs.

“please fuck me,” you whined.

it wasn’t good enough for him. “what? i’m sorry baby,” baby? “i don’t think josh can hear you.”

you were suddenly reminded of the circumstances surrounding the current situation you were in. you felt yourself turn beet red.

“remember, you can tell me to stop,” he whispered to you, noticing your complexion.

“no, no don’t stop,” you begged.

he smiled maniacally. “okay. so again, i don’t think josh could hear what you said,” his voice rising in the second half.

��please jeonghan, please fuck me. please!” you cried, knowing damn well that josh and unfortunately, everyone else could hear your desperate words.

“such a good little whore for me aren’t you?” his grip on your neck tightened, his other hand grabbing his cock, lining himself up with your entrance. you lifted your leg to give him easier access.

he pushed past your folds and you winced at the slight stretch, but you fit jeonghan like a glove. ever since the first time you guys had sex it almost felt like you were… made for each other in a way.

“you okay?” he nearly wheezed, trying to hold himself back from going completely animalistic on you in this moment. wanting to claim you as his for everyone to hear… for josh to hear.

fuck josh…

he barely let you nod your head before snapping his hips, thrusting his cock into you so fast you swear you saw stars. the squeal that escaped your throat was something of pure filth and you knew that by this point, josh had to have felt like a fucking idiot for everything he said.

jeonghan moved his hands to your thighs, hoisting you up, your back still flat against his door, his cock buried deep inside you. “i’m going to absolutely ruin you and your pretty little pussy,” he fucked himself deeper into you if that was even possible, “not even gonna be able to walk back down these stairs without my help,” he panted.

“mmmph hannie~” were your last whimpering words before he started brutally fucking himself in and out of your sopping cunt. you were a blubbering mess, whining and crying out like a bitch in heat.

“dammit y/n how are you always this t-tight,” jeonghan groaned before swallowing your sounds in a sloppy, wet kiss. his tongue desperately darted into your mouth to dance with yours and you were more than willing to let it in. your tongues danced together not so elegantly as his dick was thrusting into you with determination, his door thudding against the wall to the rhythm he’d set, and you moaning uncontrollably into his mouth.

you started to wonder what everyone downstairs was doing. especially josh.

“mmm wait wait wait hannie wait,” you put your hands on his shoulders putting enough distance between your bodies just to speak.

“i-i feel bad for everyone downstairs. should we keep doing this?” you whispered, giggling a little as the gravity of the situation really started weighing on you.

“i really don’t give a fuck about everyone downstairs.” he kissed you deeply. “unless it really makes you uncomfortable, then we’ll stop.”

“i’m not really uncomfortable just… feel bad.”

“well don’t. and remember how this all started?”

he was right.

“you’re right,” you threw your arms around his neck, attacking his lips with your own, taking control of the situation.

he let your legs down, now gripping your waist, pulling your naked body closer to him. you spun the two of you around so he was against the door. you pulled away from your kiss to lift his shirt over his head and throw it into his room. you then dropped to your knees, almost mirroring his actions from earlier. you pulled his sweats and underwear down to his ankles and he kicked them off to the side.

“fuck hannie,” you moaned, clenched around nothing as you were eye level with his cock. jeonghan could’ve came just at the sight of you gawking over his dick beneath him.

“y/n as much as i’d love to feel your mouth around me, i need to fuck you properly and i need to do it now,” he cooed cupping your face. he traced his thumb across your lip and you took it into you mouth, sucking on it like a binkie. “fuck, you’re such a fucking slut y/n,” he ripped his hand from your mouth. “on the bed. now.”

you started to stand up but he stopped you, “no, crawl.” you did exactly as you were told and crawled your way to the foot of his bed.

you could predict he’d want you on all fours, but you didn’t want to assume, so you sat on the edge of his bed waiting for further instructions.

“you know how i want you.” he was making his way toward you.

you quickly turned around on your knees and lowered yourself so your face and arms were flat on the bed and your ass was in the air.

when jeonghan got within arms length of your body, without hesitation he slapped your right ass cheek before grabbing it tightly, his left hand doing the same to the other side. you just yelped and balled up the sheets in your fists.

spreading you so wide you thought you might split, he speaks again. “there’s so much more of you that i want to explore, y/n,” he mumbled lining himself up with your aching core once again.

“s-so explore me, jeonghan,” your voice was rather shaky as you waited for his cock to be shoved into you at any moment.

“fuck baby…” baby again? you didn’t have time to process the pet name once again before jeonghan picked up where you guys had left off.

his hands were holding onto your waist for dear life as he railed you into his bed with no mercy.

“f-f-fuck hann-nie!” you cried out, every stutter on beat with his hips. a string of the most lewd whimpers, whines and groans you’ve every let fly from your mouth followed.

“uh huh, that’s r-right. how g-good do i-fuck~ fuck you huh?” he boasted.

something about jeonghan’s feral tendencies to “claim” you had you tightening around him over and over, that familiar knot forming in your tummy.

“g-god hannie i’m c-close!” you warned, gripping the sheets until your knuckles turned white.

he pulled his dick out of you instantly. you started pouting, “noooo hannie why did you-“

you heard a pop from his mouth and couldn’t help but turn your head around as far as you could. “hannie?”

“if you don’t like it, or it’s too much, what do you say?”

“‘stop’… what are you- fuck!”

jeonghan’s thumb was prodding at your other hole, barely being granted access due to it never being messed with. “too much?” he asked as the tip of his thumb slipped in.

the groan that escaped your mouth was all he needed but you tried to respond anyway, “n-no hannie~ fffuck…” your voice trailed off, the new sensation sending your body into a blissfully painful new level of pleasure.

jeonghan lined himself back up, slipping inside of you with ease at this point. the sensation of being able to feel his cock sliding in and out of you through your ass with his thumb was a feeling he didn’t know he needed. he threw his head back, slowly pulling himself out almost entirely before steadily pushing himself back into you, pushing down with his thumb to feel every inch through your gummy walls. “god dammit, y/n. you’re gonna be the death of me,” he snarled before once again picking back up to his animalistic pace from before.

you both were a moaning mess, in your own bubble of euphoria when suddenly, you were rudely interrupted by an annoyingly familiar voice.

“okay you fucking psychopaths, your point has been made. can you shut the fuck up now?!” josh yelled from down below. if you two were being honest, the moment jeonghan had you crawling across the floor to his bed, you’d forgotten all about josh and the others.

“no. you can come close the fucking door!” jeonghan yelled back trying to keep his voice steady when in reality, he could fall apart here and now. fall to his knees and cry at how amazing you were making him feel. you’re the reason he can fuck you so good. you make it impossible not to.

“god you guys are fucking obnoxious…” josh’s voice trailed off at the end of his sentence as he reached jeonghan’s door. he froze in his tracks. his drunken state didn’t really allow him to comprehend that he was going to be walking in on jeonghan absolutely wrecking you. he was just coming up to close the door, but he couldn’t stop staring.

he was snapped out of his daze when jeonghan whipped his head around, making immediate eye contact with him, not slowing down his thrusts in the slightest, completely unfazed.

“the fuck do you want?” he spat. you managed to turn your head to the side to catch a glimpse of the boy in the doorway. your vision blurry from being completely fucked out of your mind. you knew it felt wrong that he was seeing all of this, but your brain was so fuzzy you couldn’t really focus on anything else other than jeonghan.

“i- i was just closing the door,” josh managed to mutter out. as he reached for the doorknob, jeonghan spoke up again.

“no. you wanna watch so bad?” he slowly took his thumb out of you first, then his cock. you subconsciously whimpered at the sudden empty feeling. you knew you should move, knew you should adjust so you weren’t so exposed for josh to see but you couldn’t bring yourself to in your sex drunk (and still literally tipsy) state.

jeonghan, dick still out, made his way over to josh. “then come have a seat,” his tone was bitter as he grabbed him by the shoulder and walked him to his desk chair, nearly throwing him down.

“dude i don’t-“

“i dont want to hear it. you’re the one that stopped to watch so im giving you what you want, yeah?” suddenly jeonghan had dominance over everyone in the room. all josh could do was nod in response.

with the main reason for all of this absurdity now sitting in the room, jeonghan felt it was appropriate to shut the door. he did so forcefully, then made his was back over to you.

your head already being turned to your left where jeonghan’s desk was, you were looking right at josh. you quickly flipped your head the other way, embarrassed by your state. jeonghan took a fistful of your hair and slowly pulled you up so your back was flat against chest.

“i want him to watch me make you fall apart,” he whispered so gently in your ear for no one else to hear. “is that okay pretty girl?” the nickname making your tummy do flips all over again. of course that was okay. sure it would be embarrassing for the first 5 seconds, but josh pissed you off tonight more than anyone. so yes, yes of course he could be put in his place with a front row seat to the show.

“jeonghan yes,” you breathed desperately, clenching around nothing.

“good,” you wish you could see the smile on his face that you could hear when he spoke. “now, when you lay back down, turn your head back toward him so he can watch your face while i claim what’s mine.”

what’s his?

you did as you were told and when jeonghan loosened his grip on your hair, you lowered yourself back down with your face in the sheets facing joshua once again. he looked at you with a stare that was incomprehensible. was it lust? embarrassment? anger? probably all of the above, but you didn’t care. all you cared about was jeonghan filling you back up.

jeonghan started to make a snarky comment to joshua when you interrupted him.

“hannie p-please who fucking cares i need you to fuck me please please please!” you were on the brink of tears. so desperate for him, to feel his cock deep inside you again.

“oh someone’s needy hm? good girl asking so nicely.” his voice something carnal. he took barely two seconds to line himself up with your soaked, swollen, reddened and abused core.

you didn’t think he was holding back before but holy shit were you wrong. his hands were basically imbedded into your waist. his hips snapping with even more determination and vigor than before. it took no more than 20 seconds for him to get that knot forming in your tummy again.

“is this what you wanted, you fucking whore? such a whore for my cock aren’t you.” he growled. “tell me baby, has anyone ever fucked you this good?” he whined out, his own orgasm approaching.

you must’ve taken a millisecond too long to answer him because he harshly smacked your ass making you cry out in pain (in a good way of course). “answer me.”

“yes!” your voice coming out in a mix of whimpers and pure air. “no one c-can f-fuck… fuck me like you do hannie!”

“not even josh over here?”

your eyes had been shut since jeonghan started fucking you again… you forgot josh was in the room. when you opened them you were met with the sight of him shamelessly palming himself through his sweats. “especially not josh,” you managed to spit out rather clearly. it was a somewhat mean statement but the mother fucker was getting off to watching jeonghan literally prove that he can fuck you better than josh ever could’ve, so why not humiliate him a little more?

sure enough, josh groaned out in pleasure. sick.

“that’s fucking right.” jeonghan managed to pull out, flip you onto your back, and start fucking you again so fast you got dizzy. the new angle allowing him to hit a new spot, one that was bringing you closer to the edge, much faster than before.

“mmmmffff h-hannieee~” was all you could manage to get out, but he knew exactly what it meant.

“gonna make a mess all over my cock baby? hm? gonna show josh what a fucking idiot he is?” he whined once again. he moved his hand down and began rubbing circles on your clit, bringing you to your breaking point.

you turned into an illiterate wreck. somewhere laced in your desperate noises were traces of jeonghan’s name. you physically couldn’t bring yourself to unscrew your eyes to look at him. you knew he loved it when you made eye contact whenever you came undone for him, but you just couldn’t. you suddenly felt a soft hand gently grab your neck.

“i fucking love your face, y/n,” he whispered as his hips started to stutter. you managed to open your eyes to look at him right before he started to come undone himself, you still coming down from your own state of euphoria. when your eyes locked, he immediately crashed his lips into yours, his hand on your neck tightening as his hips thrusted into you one last time. you couldn’t help but clench around him when you felt his warm seed fill you up. his mouth fell open letting out a feral noise as you two lay forehead to forehead, jeonghan slowly moving himself in and out of you letting you milk his cock for all it’s worth. his hand that was around your neck moved up to cup your face instead, wiping your tears that you didn’t even realize had fallen from your eyes during all of… that.

“josh?” jeonghan’s voice was low, and he never broke eye contact with you. “get out.”

you heard josh shuffle out of the room shutting the door behind him. it was nice for it to just be the two of you again… not that you didn’t enjoy the game you two just played.

jeonghan’s eyes were piercing into yours with something different than you’d ever seen. it was a content look which you were used to but…

“i-“ he paused, scanning your eyes to see if he should even say such a foolish thing.

“you what, jeonghan?” you said delicately, running your fingers through your hair.

“i love you, y/n.” he whispered. he sunk his head down to the rook of your neck as if to hide. it was the most precious thing you’ve ever seen this boy do.

“jeonghan…” you shifted to grab his face and bring it back up to look at you. “i love you too.”

how were you two sharing the most soft, comforting moment with each other right after having sex that you felt would have the devil himself appalled?

“really?” his eyes lit up, a smile growing on his face. he showered every inch of your face in kisses as you giggled through every second of it. once he finally stopped you nodded silently with a soft smile plastered across your face.

most normal people in such a situation would be asking all sorts of questions, but you didn’t care to. you knew you guys would talk about it at the right time for both of you, that time just wasn’t now.

“BREAKFAST!!” mingyu yelled from the kitchen. you were barely managing to open your eyes as you heard footsteps running down the hall. for these men being well past their teenage years, you always found yourself thinking of them as boys. always so cheerful and full of energy, even first thing in the morning.

once you “came to” if you will, you realized you were being spooned by the boy that confessed his love for you last night… or early this morning. the moment he ripped you away from the table you’d lost track of all time.

you both were naked but you felt clean. you vaguely remember in your post-fucked-out state, that jeonghan had carried you to the bathroom with him to shower.

“hannie,” you spoke just above a whisper.

“hmmmmmm,” he groaned, pulling you closer to him.

“gyu just said breakfast is ready and.. i’m hungry.”

“i don’t blame you.” you could hear the smile on his face even tho your back was turned to him. his morning voice was husky, the sound of it immediately going to your core, but you were too hungry to do anything about it.

“shutup,” you giggled. “let’s get dressed.”

“ugggggh okay fine, fine.”

he let you slip out of his arms to sit on the edge of his bed before… attempting to get up. your legs were so physically weak, you couldn’t bring yourself to stand. in that moment you knew jeonghan was watching you because he bursted out laughing.

“oh i’m so sorry,” he sighed once he finished his laughing session.

“for laughing at the fact that i can’t stand? or for being the fucking reason that i can’t stand?” you jokingly scolded.

“both,” he shrugged with a smug smirk on his face before getting up and grabbing two pairs of briefs from his drawer, one for you and one for him. he put on a pair, then threw a baggy t-shirt on and called it good. “i hope you’re okay twinning with me,” he teased as he got on his knees to slide the underwear he grabbed for you onto your legs. once he got to your thighs you took over.

“i don’t mind in the slightest,” you gave him a cheeky smile. he shifted closer to you on his knees so he was between your legs, then gave you a tender kiss before he spoke again.

“good. now what shirt of mine do you want to wear, princess?”

you looked up at the ceiling, cartoonishly thinking even though you both knew what shirt you wanted to wear.

“maybe that really really baggy sweater with that ‘message of’ whatever on it?”

he gave you another kiss with a smile before moving to his closet. “message of ames it is, pretty girl.”

once he helped you put the sweatshirt on, you still sitting on the bed, he kneeled backwards in front of you so you could hop on his back.

“we were taking bets on if you two were gonna come down,” minghao deadpanned from the table, taking a bite of one of mingyu’s pancakes.

“the princess was hungry.” you lightly hit him upside the head before he carefully set you down right next to the chair he just pulled out for you. once you sat, he pushed you in.

minghao smiled at you. he spoke up once jeonghan walked into the kitchen to fetch your plates. “i’m glad he treats someone nicely.”

you two giggled together. “and i’m glad it’s me.”

“oh… something happened last night.” he paused with his forkful of hash browns in front of his face. “well, beside the obvious.”

your face grew hot. “ha, yeah you wouldn’t believe.”

“can’t wait to hear about it,” he whispered, then shoveling the hash browns into his mouth.

“hey,” jeonghan blurted setting your plate down in front of you. “you guys, where’s josh?” he asked casually as he sat with his own plate as if what happened last night just simply… didn’t happen. you could imagine he was hesitant to face you both.

but then…

“y/n! jeonghan!” josh yelled from his room. “what the fuck are these?!”

you and jeonghan slowly turned to look at each other, both wearing the words “oh fuck” on your faces without muttering a word. jeonghan shot out of his chair and ran up the stairs to save both of your asses.

you turned to your food, silently poking at a piece of your scrambled eggs. minghao leaned in close, so you turned to him. “what did he find?” he whispered.

as if on cue, mingyu ran over from the kitchen to lean his head in. you leaned close to the boys so you knew any lingering ears wouldn’t hear. “jeonghan threw my underwear in his room,” you whispered back.

minghao bursted out laughing, mingyu stood up dumbfounded. exaggerated shock displayed on his face. anyone else in the room who was trying to mind their own business was now staring.

“you guys are too fucking much,” minghao sighed while holding a smile on his face. mingyu silently kissed you on the top of your head before walking back into the kitchen.

“you have no idea,” you smiled back, taking a bite of your best friend’s homemade pancakes.

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱‧₊˚

tag list: (i tagged everyone who reblogged the teaser) @jenoslutie @goblynnrockz @iluvhoshi @shinaely @squishysquishjimin @sana-is-ms-rmty @wonusfavgf @httpjeia @chanichanvhan @133456789000000000000 @4shypotato @meowwiie @lethia-killua @asyre @jeonghnie @starcandybby

#jeonghan #jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan #yoon jeonghan x reader #jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan smut #hanniesluvr

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watchmegetobsessed · 9 months ago

Text

OLD GRUDGES (part 1)

A/N: wooohoooo im bringing something new!!! i feel like it happens so rarely it's like a miracle lol anyway, this will be hopefully a couple of parts (probably about 3) and lets all pray i will actually finish it lol

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

WARNING: sexual content

SUMMARY: Harry and Y/N go way back. Working together was like a dream when 1D was still going strong. Now, years later, when they end up working together again, things are very different. Mostly because Y/N seems to be hating Harry passionately. But he has not idea why.

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

Everyone loves Harry Styles. It’s a known fact, not just amongst the people who actually know him, but all around the world. He is known as one of the most unproblematic celebrities, someone who gives just as much if not even more respect as he gets, always kind and patient with others, rarely loses his temper. It’s hard to imagine that there is anyone walking this planet who doesn’t see him as a lovable, sweet man.

Well, it might be hard to imagine, but there is actually one person who has a very different opinion when it comes to the british popstar.

And that person is music producer, Y/N.

The interesting thing is that their history goes way back into his 1D days. Y/N was an up and coming name in the industry, just started working with bigger names when she got the chance to produce several songs on the band’s third studio album. Harry remembers her as a bubbly, funny girl who is passionate about her job and is also excellent in it. Working with her was easy and motivating, she was always eager to perfect songs to an extent Harry couldn’t even imagine and that’s why songs like Story Of My Life, You & I and Midnight Memories were such hits. Y/N put her heart and soul into them, which eventually earned all the recognition they deserved.

Harry loved working with Y/N and she was in talks of working on their fourth album as well, but the deal ended up ditched and she went on to do other projects and they somehow had a fallout. It was a shame, but he hoped his path would cross hers again.

Years and years went by and so much changed by the time their professional ways finally met again. Jeff brought her name up when Harry just started writing for his fourth solo album and Harry gave him the go to do whatever it takes to get her on the project. A few weeks passed and Harry didn’t get any confirmation about her and just when he was about to bring it up to Jeff, he hit him with the news.

“Y/N is in for five songs. Contract should be signed by Wednesday and you can start working next week.”

Harry wondered why it took so long to get her on board, but he brushed it off because he knew she was a big name now herself and had plenty of offers from which she could choose from. He was excited to work with her and simply see her again.

It was utter shock for him when she was the complete opposite of what he remembered. Okay, that might be an overstatement, but Harry could feel something was off instantly.

She was still bubbly and fun, but for some reason, she had a certain iciness and bitter attitude whenever her focus was on Harry. To anyone else it was unnoticable, Harry knows, because he asked Jeff about it.

“What are you talking about? She is awesome,” the manager said with a shrug and Harry tried to tell himself it was all in his head, because if Jeff doesn’t see it, it’s not real.

But it kept happening and it felt even stronger when it was just him and her in a room. Sometimes she even pretended like he wasn’t there, sometimes her snarky comments were all he got and they just strengthened him in his belief.

He wanted to ask her about it, he tried, several times, but his attempts just bounced right off her icy behavior so eventually, he gave up and there was only one thing left for him to do.

Return what he was getting.

Yes, it is childish, but he felt like he needed to deal with her unreasonable hatred towards him somehow and this was the easiest way. Was it a smart idea to practically become enemies when working together on his album? Of course not. But it just happened.

And going against each other became their thing.

They were great in arguing, disagreeing even when they could easily compromise, riling each other up and lashing out on each other when the tension had been building up for hours. It got to the point where others started to notice that something was off between the two of them and when Jeff questioned Harry about it, he couldn’t give him a reasonable explanation.

“She started it,” he said and instantly felt like a kid, telling on his classmate at school. But this is all he could say, because he had no idea why she was acting this way. And he has to live with it while they work together.

Something is off. Harry knows it. Something about the melody… or the guitar… or is it the lyrics? He can’t tell, he has listened to the recording a million times so it all melts in his ears and he can’t identify what’s setting him off every time he hears it.

“Why don’t we take a break?” Jack, the technician suggests, turning in his chair. “Y/N will be here in twenty, I’m sure she’ll–”

“Okay,” Harry snaps, just so he doesn’t finish. He knows what he wanted to say.

She’ll know what’s wrong and will correct it in a second.

Y/N always knows what’s wrong and most of the time it’s a perk, of course it is, but today, Harry feels like it’s gonna make him want to crawl out of his body. Maybe it’s because he’s been in the studio for five hours and he got nowhere or maybe because Mitch will have his first ever solo gig tonight and Harry has been worried his fame or relation to him might ruin this experience for him.

Either way, today he is just extra pissed by the fact that Y/N will be the one to solve this mystery.

“I’m gonna grab a coffee,” he clears his throat, standing up from his seat. “Do you want one?” he offers, feeling a bit guilty he snapped at Jack.

“Uh, yeah, just an espresso is fine, thanks man.”

“Sure, I’ll be right back.”

Putting on his headphone, Harry jogs across the street to the tiny coffee shop he’s been a regular at. He likes the place because they are discreet and their coffee is just simply amazing, though they swear there’s nothing extra in it.

He waits for the two coffees at the end of the counter and scrolls on his phone in the meantime. Emails, messages, there’s always something to answer to. He sends out a few replies before he ends up in his calendar. It’s neatly color coded and he takes pride in keeping it up-to-date all the time so he can always be on top of his game, no matter what.

His eyes land on one particular date. Five weeks from now Y/N’s contract expires and if the five songs are done by then, she’ll be out of Harry’s life again. Seeing how the work is going, she’ll easily outdo that number so there won’t be any reason for talk about an extension.

An unsettling feeling spreads in his stomach as he stares at the date but he doesn’t have time to figure it out because he is snapped out of his thoughts when the two paper cups are placed in front of him. He is trying his best to keep a positive mindset as he returns to the studio’s building. With the two coffee cups in his hands he makes a right turn and then stops at the door, seeing Y/N sitting where he did previously, already listening to the recording with Jack with a critical expression on her face.

Harry doesn’t interrupt them, just stays put and waits for her feedback. When she is done listening, she leans back in her seat.

“It’s the bass. Or more specifically the lack of it. Can you double it? Let’s see how it changes.”

Jack is quick to do as she asked and then he starts the song again and…

Harry wants to scream and laugh in bliss at the same time, because it’s perfect now. He’s mad he couldn’t spot such an obvious thing, but he is also happy it’s finally sorted out. It’s just a shame Y/N was the one to do it and not him.

“Great, so this is done then,” he makes himself noticed as he walks into the studio and hands over one of the cups to Jack.

When he looks at Y/N he can see that familiar, irritated look on her face that’s almost always there when he’s around. He hasn’t decided if he wants to physically wipe it off, or…

“Thanks for bringing one for me,” she comments in a bored tone, turning back towards the screen.

“You weren’t here when I went out.”

“But you knew I was coming.”

Harry opens his mouth, but then closes it, because this time she is kind of right. And it irks him even more today.

It’s gonna be a challenging session today, Harry thinks as he takes a seat.

It’s always exciting for Harry to be behind the stage when he’s not the star of the show. Kind of like a whole different world.

He hasn’t been here for long, but he’s been trying his best to stay as unnoticed as possible and let Mitch take the spotlight. Just a few minutes ago Sarah put him on Scout-duty which he gladly took up on, he’s always happy to spend time with the little guy. This time he is letting him explore freely and he’s just following him around to make sure he’s safe. Scout seemingly enjoys the adventure with uncle Harry, who doesn’t really pay attention where he is heading.

That’s how they end up in the green room where Y/N is.

Y/N and Sarah have worked together a while ago, which is a random coincidence how they are connected outside of Harry. Because of their history, Y/N is often where they are, however she was never around when Sarah and Mitch were playing for Harry.

Scout runs up to Y/N, arms in the air, asking to be picked up and Harry stops a few steps away from them when he realizes who he just found.

“Hey there, little guy! Are you all by yourself?” Y/N asks, settling the boy on her hip.

She’s changed since they parted ways in the studio. Harry has always admired her sense of style, which mostly consists of basic pieces, almost like a capsule wardrobe, but there’s always something extra, something vibrant on her that makes her sets interesting. Tonight she is wearing a simple black dress with a rather low back cut, simple heels, simple makeup, but she added a silky scarf with vivid colors and shapes around her neck that brings Harry’s attention to the curve of her neck and collarbones, almost as a cheeky invitation for his eyes to her naked skin.

He has to fight the urge to touch her.

Despite the spiteful relationship they’ve been sporting lately, Harry had to deal with a rather unreasonable desire for Y/N in a physical way.

Unreasonable, because he never thought he could be attracted to someone who pisses him off so easily, yet there’s been plenty of occasions when Harry found himself imagining scenarios he could never admit to her, not when she hates him with such obvious passion.

Tonight it’s not just the outfit, but also the way she’s handling Scout. It’s not just women who find it incredibly hot when the opposite sex is great with kids, Harry can definitely feel something inside him moving as he watches Y/N sway from side to side with the little boy in his arms.

“Uncle Hazza is here!” Scout points at him, answering her previous question. Y/N looks up and because Harry was already looking at him, he catches a slipping moment where there’s no irritation on her face, but it returns quite fast when her gaze settles on him.

“Ah, hi,” she says, lips pressed together as she nods, acknowledging his presence.

“Hey. Long time no see.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth he regrets it. Who says that? Why did he even say anything else other than hi? He smacks himself in his mind.

Part of him expects her to say something like ‘not long enough’ but she just keeps quiet and turns all her attention to Scout. Harry feels out of place, he is supposed to be babysitting, but Y/N is taking care of Scout, Harry knows he is in good hands but Sarah asked him to watch over him. Should he leave? Or just keep standing there awkwardly?

“You can go, I’ll watch him,” Y/N says, as if she could read his mind.

“You sure?”

“I’m pretty sure I can take care of him until Sarah is back.” Her reply is not just dry, kind of offended, nothing Harry wouldn’t expect from her, but it’s still irking him.

“I didn’t say you’re not capable, I just–”

“I’m not in the mood for this,” she cuts him off with an icy look. Harry is too stunned to reply, just watches Y/N walk away with Scout.

He almost finds it amusing how easily she can piss him off, not many people have been able to do that, in fact, Harry thinks she does it the best.

Clenching his jaw he takes a deep breath to calm his nerves and then just lets it all go.

The after party is always kind of Harry’s favorite. The stress is over, it’s just the relief and celebration that is left.

Mitch’s show went well, that’s what Harry expected, but it’s still great he was right. Seeing his friend be the star of the show was an experience he is glad he could be part of. Now that the core of the group has moved to a nearby bar, Harry has loosened up thanks to the couple of drinks he’s had.

He’s been mostly sticking to the familiar faces he knows, rotating between the same few people while enjoying how under the radar he is currently.

The more drinks he has had, the less he’s been able to control where his gaze goes. To be exact, he’s been finding himself looking Y/N’s way the past hour or so. That damn dress and scarf, it’s like she’s put a spell on him that forces him to keep wanting to look at her.

Harry is not experienced with feeling like this. Being attracted to someone who he hates, it’s such an ambivalent impulse, he can’t think straight. Or maybe it’s the amount of tequila he has drunk tonight, either way, it’s getting a rise out of him.

From the corner of his eye he sees her slip out to the back where the smoking area is, he hesitates, shifts his weight from one leg to the other before making the leap and heading after her. He has no plan, no idea what he wants to ro will say to her, but he just feels like he has to talk to her.

Stepping out to the dimly lit back alley he is met with a few people scattered around, having a cigarette with drinks in hand, talking or scrolling on their phone and then he spots Y/N on the left, standing by the wall, cigarette in one hand, the remaining of her drink in the other as she stares ahead of her.

She doesn’t smoke regularly, but she does enjoy one in certain social settings or when she’s had a few drinks. Harry knows it from years ago, because they shared a cigarette at a party, back then she seemed thrilled to spend time with him, he remembers all the conversations they had while working together, telling each other stories, sharing their plans, Harry truly thought they would remain good friends on this extraordinary journey, yet they ended up here.

As Harry walks towards her, she notices him and he sees her lips twitch in annoyance.

“Care if I join?” he asks and she just shrugs without a word, avoiding to look at him.

They stand there in silence for a while, she is lazily puffing the smoke out from time to time.

“Is it still just an occasional thing?” he tries to strike up a conversation.

“Mhm,” is all he gets as a reply.

“Have you tried to put it down fully?”

“Why are you doing this?” she snaps at him, finally looking his way.

“What?”

“Why are you trying to chit-chat when we both know we don’t do that?”

“And why don’t we?” He challenges her. “Tell me why we are like this in the first place, because I have no idea.”

She stares at him for long moments and he awaits her answer like nothing before, but then she shakes her head and turns to the pin beside her, puts the cigarette out and flicks it into the bin. Then, without another word she is already heading back inside.

It takes a moment for Harry to start moving again, but he is quick to catch up with her in the hall that leads to the restrooms.

“Y/N, give me a fucking answer!” he demands, grabbing her wrist to pull her back before she could escape, but she shakes his hand off as she comes to a stop, turning towards him.

“I owe you nothing!” she hisses at him. “I owe you no one, but especially you!”

“What the fuck does that suppose to mean?! I never thought you owe me anything!”

“I’m not doing this, Harry, leave me the fuck alone,” she growls and tries to leave, but Harry pulls her back again, determined to get an answer this time.

“Don’t think I will just swallow everything down forever. I will get to the bottom of this, whether you like it or not. It’s your choice if you make it hard on both of us.”

She is looking back at him with wide eyes, this time his hand remains on her arm as they stare each other down in the empty hallway. Neither of them knows what will be their next move, the tension is so thick, it’s almost suffocating.

But then it all changes.

If someone asked who moved first, they wouldn’t know. One moment they are standing like stone statues, barely even breathing, then the next moment they are kissing like there’s no tomorrow.

It doesn’t take long until Harry has her pressed up against the wall, his hands roaming her body, feeling her up the way he fantasized about before, they are both rough and impatient, she is clawing at him, moaning into his mouth when his hips press against hers and she feels how hard he’s gotten already.

Blindly, Harry pushes the closest door open which happens to be the staff’s bathroom that someone left unlocked, lucky for them. Still glued together they stumble inside, Y/N kicks the door open before Harry pushes her against it and he locks it before his hand returns to her tempting body.

He has never acted like this when it comes to sex. He does like to spice things up sometimes, but the way he’s biting her lips or unbuttoning his pants or reaches under her dress to pull her underwear down is just so out of character for him, yet so freeing.

Nothing is said, but when her hands pull his hard, leaking dick out of his pants, there’s a fleeting look they exchange that says it all, just how much they both want it.

It’s the fastest pace he’s ever experienced, yet the most passionate too. They moan at the same time when Harry pushes into her and starts moving in a rush, desperate for relief. She’s panting and whining for more, the only form of speaking she is able to as she holds onto Harry who is focused on keeping up his quick and steady pace while holding her left leg up to ensure the perfect angle.

The animalistic need is there for them both, making them act like this is what they must do to stay alive. It’s messy, fast and mind-blowing and they don’t need much time to reach the peak. As she comes her nails dig into her shoulder and she bites into his bottom lip so harshly it draws blood, but he doesn’t care, only follows her into bliss just a second later. With the last bit of his consciousness Harry pulls out right before he comes, covering her thigh with the white, sticky evidence of just how much he enjoyed the past minutes.

They are breathing heavily and Harry feels like a thick haze is still lingering around his head, stopping him from realizing what just happened. Y/N however is ahead of him and when reality comes crashing down on her, her instinct to flee kicks right in. Harry is still trying to clear his mind when she grabs a paper towel and cleans herself up as fast as possible and Harry only snaps out of his trance when she is already unlocking the door.

“Y/N, what the— wait!” He can’t go after her as she slips out of the room because he is still pretty indecent, so he has to pull his pants up and can only rush out then, but by that time she is already gone.

He’s quite frantic as he tries to find her in the bar, but she is nowhere to be seen. Harry returns to the rest of their group, hoping to catch her somewhere but she has vanished into thin air.

“Hey, have you seen Y/N?” he asks Mitch, his eyes still roaming the place.

“Nah, haven’t seen her since she went out to smoke.”

Harry groans and makes his way outside, maybe she’s there waiting for a car, but as he steps out to the street he sees no trace of her. Fishing his phone out of his pocket he doesn’t hesitate before dialing her number. The line rings once, twice and then… it goes to voicemail.

“Hey, this is Y/N. Do whatever you want after the beep.”

“Fuck!” Harry ends the call and he has to stop himself from throwing it against the nearest wall.

This is not how he planned. Well, he didn’t plan any of it, especially not fucking Y/N like a horny teenager. He wanted to solve this whole issue between the two of them but instead he just created another one.

A stupid, giant one.

NEXT PART

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your-local-simp-writers · 1 month ago

Text

Puppy Love

Word Count: 1552

Warnings: None

Damian Wayne x Fem!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

It was a typical day after school, one of those rare moments when Damian Wayne wasn’t caught up in some sort of mission or training. The clock ticked loudly in the classroom as you stared at your class partner. Damian was sitting at his desk, meticulously packing up his things, his movements precise, as always. He had a habit of folding his papers just so, making sure everything was in perfect order before leaving. It was almost funny how much effort he put into something so mundane.

You tapped your pen on the desk, your mind bouncing with energy, as it always did. You had an idea, a crazy, spontaneous idea. The kind of idea you always had, but this time, you had to share it with him.

"Damian," you said brightly, leaning across the desk just enough to catch his attention. He glanced up, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as if preparing himself for whatever your next move was. You grinned, already knowing what he was thinking. “Do you want to go to the fair?”

His brow furrowed. “The fair?” he repeated, clearly skeptical. “I’m not sure how that could be beneficial to anything.”

You waved a hand, dismissing his doubts. “It’s just a bit of fun. You know, something different. Besides, you can’t always be training or brooding, right?”

Damian looked at you for a long moment, then sighed dramatically, an exaggerated gesture you’d gotten used to. “I don’t see the point in such... frivolity,” he said, though there was an edge of curiosity beneath the words.

You didn’t give him time to think about it. You knew he would overanalyze it otherwise. “Come on, just for a little while. You could use some downtime, and it’s not like Gotham doesn’t need a break from your endless seriousness. You’re my class partner, right? It’s just a few hours of normal fun. You’ve done worse, I promise.”

You could see the inner conflict playing out in his eyes—the part of him that was trained to be a warrior, never wasting a moment, battling with the part that was slowly learning to open up to new experiences. Finally, after a long pause, he nodded reluctantly. “Fine. I will accompany you to this... ‘fair,’” he said, his voice still laced with skepticism.

...

The fair was a short drive outside of Gotham, tucked away just beyond the noise and chaos of the city. You could tell the difference immediately, as soon as the car tires left the paved roads and hit the dirt paths leading to the fairgrounds. There was a certain charm to the place, something rustic and simple, so different from the bustling streets of Gotham or the towering Wayne mansion.

The sun was setting, casting a soft orange glow over the rows of booths, food carts, and brightly colored rides. The scent of hot dogs, popcorn, and cotton candy filled the air, and the sounds of laughter and music echoed around the fairground. It was the kind of place where people went to escape from the grind of daily life, to enjoy the fleeting moments of joy that came with a simple carnival game or a ride on the Ferris wheel.

You could see Damian’s unease as you both walked toward the entrance. His eyes darted around, taking in the overwhelming sights, sounds, and people. It wasn’t quite the same as the controlled environment he was used to. But you didn’t give him time to overthink it. You grabbed his arm, pulling him toward one of the booths.

“You’re going to love the ring toss,” you said with a grin, all too eager to get him involved.

“Ring toss?” he repeated, the skepticism still clear in his voice. “What purpose does this serve?”

“It’s fun,” you insisted, though you knew he wasn’t convinced. Still, you managed to drag him over to the booth. The game was simple enough—throw rings over bottles. It was a childish game, but you loved it, and you hoped Damian would catch on to the idea of letting go, even if just for a moment.

He stood with his arms crossed, watching you carefully. "You really think I can waste my time on this?"

You gave him a sidelong glance and a teasing smile. "Well, it’s not about wasting time. It’s about... I don’t know, enjoying the moment."

He didn’t look at you, but he did take a few rings and line them up, aiming carefully. You grinned to yourself. Even when he was trying to act all serious, his precision couldn’t be denied.

With a flick of his wrist, one of the rings flew through the air, landing perfectly on a bottle. You raised your eyebrows, impressed.

“Nice,” you said. “You’re better at this than you let on.”

Damian didn’t respond, his eyes narrowing as he picked up another ring. “I don’t do things halfheartedly,” he muttered, almost to himself. “If I’m going to do something, I do it properly.”

You watched him, a strange warmth spreading in your chest. The boy was so driven, so serious, yet you couldn’t help but admire his determination. It was rare for him to let his guard down, and even rarer for him to admit that something could be fun.

Soon enough, you had won a small stuffed bear, and Damian had reluctantly agreed to take it from you. You held it to your chest, practically skipping to the next attraction.

“What now?” he asked, clearly still unsure.

"Let’s ride the Ferris wheel," you said, already making your way toward the line.

He didn’t protest, which surprised you. Damian was a creature of habit and control. He liked to know what was coming next, not to be thrown into something unfamiliar. But here he was, following you as you led him toward the towering wheel. It was slow-moving and simple, but you could tell the height of the ride was making him a little uneasy.

Once you were both in your seat, the Ferris wheel creaked to life. The world below you began to shrink, the lights of the fair twinkling in the distance, and the sky above grew dark as the stars started to emerge, one by one. You glanced over at Damian, who was staring out at the lights, his face unreadable.

“You know, it’s nice up here,” you said softly, breaking the silence. “Don’t you ever just sit outside and stare at the stars? It’s so peaceful.”

Damian turned his head toward you, his expression stiff. “I prefer to watch... other things,” he said, his tone flat, almost as though he hadn’t really considered the question. “While I’m at it, I watch the bumper-to-bumper traffic and listen to the sounds of car horns and sirens.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at his dry sarcasm. “That is exactly why I like to be in the middle of nowhere. No traffic, no sirens, no deadlines. Just peace.”

Damian looked at you, the barest hint of amusement flickering across his face. “Peace,” he echoed, then gave a short huff. “I don’t know that I would describe Gotham as anything remotely peaceful.”

“Well, I’ll take peaceful over chaotic any day,” you said, your eyes drifting back to the sky, the colors of the fireworks beginning to light up the air. You handed him a stick of cotton candy, offering it with a teasing grin. “Besides, I think you could use a little fun, Damian. Maybe the world won’t end if you just enjoy the moment.”

He hesitated, eyeing the fluffy treat in your hand before taking a cautious bite. His eyes flickered back to you, his voice quieter this time. “Fun. I’m not sure I remember what that feels like.”

You blinked, surprised at the admission. For a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. You were so used to seeing Damian with his walls up, his rigid control always in place, that hearing him admit something so vulnerable took you off guard.

“Well, maybe now’s a good time to start remembering,” you said, your voice soft. “There’s a lot more to life than training and working.”

Damian didn’t answer, but he didn’t pull away either. Instead, he continued to chew his cotton candy in silence, staring out at the fireworks. You could tell, even without the words, that he was beginning to relax, if only for a moment.

The rest of the ride passed in a comfortable silence, the fireworks exploding around you in bursts of color. It was a strange thing, this peacefulness, and you couldn’t help but smile as you watched Damian begin to melt into the experience. For once, he wasn’t the brooding, serious heir to Wayne Enterprises. For once, he was just a boy—your class partner, Damian—enjoying the simple joy of a fair.

As the ride finally came to a stop and you both made your way back to solid ground, you felt a strange warmth between you both, something unspoken but real. You hadn’t just taken him to a fair—you’d taken him to a moment where he could simply be Damian, and for the first time, he seemed to appreciate it.

“Not so bad, huh?” you teased as you walked side by side.

Damian glanced at you, the slightest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Perhaps... just this once.”

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