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americasass91 · 3 years

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The Shield and the Sweater

Hello lovelies! This little fic came to me when the lovely, beautiful, talented @stargazingfangirl18 asked a very important question on her blog. Would you rather be enemies to lovers with Steve Rogers or friends with benefits with Ransom Drysdale. Well my greedy ass wanted both. Thus the birth of this story. I also turned it around a little to make it fit into Siri’s 5k Soft Dark Challenge! I’ve never written anything dark before. Also not sure if this classifies as soft!dark or if it’s more dark. But it’s one of those! If that makes you uncomfortable, then please don’t read it. This is also my first time writing a threesome, so let me know if it sucks! I hope you enjoy it! 😘

General prompts:

8)The town golden boy isn’t as sweet as everyone thinks.

Dialogue prompts:

3)”Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.”

11)”I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.”

Rating: Explicit(if you’re under 18, please leave)

Words: 6.2k(this one got away from me, sorry)

Warnings: soft!dark/dark themes, unprotected sex, anal sex, vaginal sex, threesome(M/M/F), manipulation, language, model!Ransom being an asshole, Steve not being who you think he is

“And I really think if everyone pitches in to make these changes, it’ll really make a difference in the long run.”

Wow, so this is how you were going to die. In your whole 20 something years of existence, you never thought boredom would be your cause of death.

Sure, you were the lead Accountant at Stark Tower and these monthly meetings were mandatory. But did you really have to be here to listen to Rogers go on and on about how we can ‘improve our working environment’? Why did he even care anyway? He was barely ever here as it is.

You must have been zoning out worse than you thought because next thing you know your coworker, Janet, is poking you in the side and pointing towards Steve.

With a quick glare sent her way, you move your gaze to the Captain. He is giving you the same look he always does. Like he’s disgusted with you. “I’m sorry Miss Y/L/N. Am I boring you?”

A scoff escapes your mouth. “No, not at all Captain Rogers. I just love when people who are never here seem to always have an opinion on how things are run and how they could be better.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Do you have a problem with me, Y/N? Cause if you do, I’m sure there’s a way to solve that.”

You stand up and match his expression. You lean forward with your hands resting on the table. You can’t help but notice the Captain drops his gaze to your cleavage that’s now on more display than before. But just as quick as it was there, his gaze rises back up to meet your face. “Is that a threat, Captain Rogers?”

“Oh, it’s more than a-“

Tony quickly stands up and claps his hands together. “Okay! Meeting adjourned! You two, come here!”

You quickly straighten yourself up and make your way over to Tony. You always try to make sure you show him as much respect as you can. He’s your boss after all.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark. My emotions got the better of me. It won’t happen again.”

He nods to you. “Thank you, Y/N. I accept your apology. But what I’m not understanding is why Steve here wanted to fire you?”

You both turn to look at Steve who has a sheepish expression on his face. “Yeah, sorry about that, Tony. She just seems to bring out this ugly side of me. I’ll try to keep it more contained next time.” He then moves his gaze to you. “Sorry, Y/N. I promise to be more professional moving forward.”

He makes a quick exit, leaving you shocked that he apologized at all. Ever since you started here almost a year ago now, you’ve been at each other’s throats. It was your fault really.

It was your first week and you were in the break room grabbing some coffee when you overheard a few of your coworkers making fun of Steve for being a virgin. Now, you weren’t sure if it was true but you wanted to fit in so you made your way over to the group and asked if anyone calls him Captain Virgin. That earned you some big laughs. But the laughter died down quickly as Steve entered the room to grab some coffee. Judging by the glare he gave you, he heard what you had called him.

You went straight to Tony after that to apologize. You really didn’t want to get fired. But you wanted to make sure Tony heard the story from you before Steve got the chance to talk to him. To your utter surprise, Tony found the name hilarious and gave you a high five, saying you were going to fit right in.

Well long story short, it’s almost a year later and Steve is still getting called Captain Virgin. Oh but don’t worry, he has names of his own for you. His favorite is Tony’s Pet. For some reason, it really eats at you when he calls you that.

But the one thing you hate the most about Steve?

Is how utterly, hopelessly, and desperately attracted you are to the son of a bitch.

That happened in your second week when you went to use the complimentary gym and saw him beating the shit out of some poor punching bag. Your panties and your workout were definitely ruined after that.

The more you fought with Steve, the more you just wanted him to bend you over any surface and have his way with you.

It was despicable how horny you were for him. You were pretty sure all he’d have to do is snap his fingers and point to the floor in front of him and you’d happily drop to your knees and take him down your throat.

So that left you leaving work every day in a horny state. You started by taking care of it yourself when you got home. But after a while even that wasn’t cutting it. Then you started bringing home one night stands. But after the 4th disappointing non-orgasm, you gave up and just learned to live with it.

Sure, you could attempt to start being nice to Steve and maybe ask him out. But you were pretty sure he hated you. Plus you have way too much pride to actually do that.

So that leads to now. It’s Friday night and your workday is almost over. You’re inputting the last few numbers from the last expense report in your pile.

You get the last number put in when Janet approaches you. She sits on the corner of your desk. “So, you coming tonight?”

You take your glasses off and lean back in your chair, stretching your arms over your head. “Coming where?”

She rolls her eyes at you. “Oh, come on Y/N! You know we go out almost every Friday night. You never come and you always say you will!”

You start to clear off your desk and put things back in their place. “Yeah well I could. Or I could go home and sit on my ass and do nothing.”

“Well, that explains why it’s looking a bit bigger lately.”

Janet’s jaw drops as she directs her gaze at Steve, who is now standing in front of your desk.

You smirk and lean on your elbows towards him. “You like looking at my ass, Rogers?”

He scoffs. “Well when it takes up that much space, it’s hard not to notice. But here, I came to give you this.”

He hands you what looks to be a 10 page expense report. “Sorry it’s late, I’ve been busy, you know. Saving the world.”

You ungraciously take it from him and throw it in your to-do pile. “That can wait until Monday. I’ve got plans. We’re going to-” you look towards Janet for clarification. “Lavo.” You turn your gaze back to Steve. “Yeah, we’re going to Lavo. So this will wait til Monday if that’s okay with you, sir.”

Steve does his best to move his bag and jacket subtly towards the front of his pants so you won’t notice his growing hard-on. He hates how turned on he gets when you guys get into it. And then you call him sir? Jesus. He clears his throat. “Of course, I'm the one who turned it in at the last minute.”

Janet speaks up quickly. “You could always come with us! It’ll be fun!”

You grin widely at him. “Yeah! You could finally get your cherry popped, Captain Virgin.”

Steve can’t help the blush that covers his cheeks. “Uh, I can assure you my cherry has been popped since the 40’s. But thank you for your concern. And thank you for the invite, Janet. But i think I’ll stay in tonight.” He takes out his phone and sends a quick text before turning around and walking towards the elevators.

Wow. He didn’t even try to retaliate. You shrug your shoulders and grab your purse before standing up. “Alright, I’ll go! But on one condition!”

Janet claps her hands in excitement and starts walking with you towards the elevators. “Sure, anything!”

You press the button for the lobby. “You are going to be my wingwoman. Cause this girl definitely needs to get laid.”

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Lavo is super packed by the time you guys arrive. Of course you all had to go home and change.

You decided to go with a simple, yet effective, little black dress that showed off just enough to get men’s attention.

Thankfully you are able to score the last table. The waiter comes over and gets everyone’s drink order. You decide to stick with your favorite. You don’t want to get too drunk on the off chance you find someone to take home.

About a half hour into hot office gossip, Lucy, who is sitting across from you, taps your arm. You raise your eyebrows in question towards her.

She subtly nods her head towards the bar. “Okay I’m pretty sure the hottest guy I have ever seen is checking you out.”

You can’t help the smirk that crosses your face. “Yeah? Which one?”

“You can’t miss him. He’s fucking hot. Like no comparison to any of the other dudes sitting up there.”

You glance down at your drink and quickly finish the remainder. You stand up and adjust your dress, pushing up your breasts in the process. “Well, then I guess it’s time for a refill.” You wink and turn to make your way towards the bar.

It doesn’t take long for you to spot him. And boy was Lucy not kidding. He was fucking hot. Brown hair, blue eyes, and a smug smirk that would normally turn you off. But on him it worked. And who even looks that good in a fucking cream colored cable knit?

You go up to the bar, not too close to Mr. Hottie of course, and patiently wait for the bartender.

Hottie McHothot not so subtly moves his gaze up and down your body. He must like what he sees. “Hey honey, have you ever raised chickens?”

Uh. That’s definitely not the first thing you expected to come out of his mouth. You look over at him with confusion on your face. “Uh, no. Why do you ask?”

He just shrugs his shoulders. “Just kinda figured you might. Cause you sure can raise a cock.”

Okay, you’ve definitely never heard that line before. You crack up. You’re pretty sure you even snorted on accident. Once you collect yourself you ask, “Has that line ever worked for you?”

The bartender makes his way over to take your order. After reordering what you had before, you turn towards Hottie and wait for his answer.

“Not sure, my buddy told it to me yesterday so this is the first time I’m using it. Did it work?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know. It was pretty cheesy.”

“Yeah, maybe. But it got you to laugh. So I’d say mission accomplished. Name’s Ransom. What’s yours, pretty girl?” He holds out his hand for you to shake.

Ransom. Now where have you heard that name before? You accept his hand shake. You can’t help but notice how much bigger his hands are than yours. Jesus. You could already feel your panties getting wet.

“My name’s Y/N. Ransom, that sounds familiar. Do I know you?”

He releases your hand and goes to take a sip of his bourbon. “Well, I guess that depends. Do you read magazines or have you seen the side of the city bus lately?”

You quickly wrack your brain. You don’t read many magazines. But the bus drives by you everyday on your walk to work. Holy shit! That’s it! He’s in his underwear on the side of the bus. You’ve drooled over that picture plenty of times.

“Oh, yeah! I remember now! I’ve seen you on the bus! What’s it an ad for? I can never really get past the almost naked man. A bit distracting on my way to work.”

He smirks as he briefly glances down at your breasts. “I’m glad you know my work. It’s an ad for Calvin Klein. For their new line of men’s briefs. Sorry I’ve been a distraction.” He sends you a wink.

Fuck. He was a model. And a popular one at that if he’s in an ad for Calvin Klein.

“I didn’t say I minded. You can make it up to me you know.” You wink back. Holy shit. Were you really flirting with a model?

“Yeah? Well, how about we get out of here and I’ll show you a fully naked man.”

Okay. Cheesy line number 2. Was that really going to work on you?

Yes.

Yes it was.

“Let me just go grab my purse.”

Drink forgotten, you go back to your table as quickly as you can without looking desperate. “Sorry, girls. But this is where I leave you.”

Janet glances down at her phone. “We haven’t even been here an hour yet! Where are you going?”

You send her a wink. “I’m leaving with that guy! You guys know him! Remember that ad on the side of the bus?”

They all turn their gaze to him. And they all make it very obvious. He just waves and sends them a smirk.

“Holy fucking shit! That’s the new Calvin Klein guy! Oh my god you lucky bitch!”

“Wait! Listen. We’ll let you go on one condition.”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “Okay?”

Janet gives you a naughty smirk. “On Monday I’ll need a report on if they had to stuff his briefs to get that delicious looking bulge or not.”

You give her a naughty smirk of your own. “I can totally do that.”

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Monday morning you were all smiles as you stepped off the elevator and headed towards your desk. You give Janet a wink as you pass by her. She quickly makes her way over just as you sit down. “Um, excuse me hoe. But is that the same dress you were wearing Friday night?”

You quickly grab the cardigan you always keep in your desk out and put it on and button it up, attempting to look a little more professional. “Maybe.”

Janet opens her mouth in shock. “You stayed the whole weekend with him? You little slut! How was it?”

You turn on your computer and grab for the expense report of Steve’s you left in your to-do pile. Then you turn towards your nosy coworker. “Well, if you must know, yes. I did stay the whole weekend with him. And I’m pretty sure I was in an orgasm-induced coma the whole time. It’s all kind of a rough, sticky, mind-blowing blur.”

“Are you going to see him again?”

You shrug your shoulders as you put in your login information on the computer. “I haven’t decided yet. While the sex was the best I’ve ever had, he’s kind of an ass. Talked about himself and all the famous people he’s hooked up with since becoming a model. I honestly kept initiating sex just to make him shut up.”

She gives you a look like you’re stupid. “I’m not seeing the issue here. So what if he talks about himself a lot? The sex was amazing. You need to lock that down girl.”

You roll your eyes at her. “That’s the thing, Janet. He doesn’t do relationships. He told me so multiple times. Plus I’m pretty sure he was texting another chick in between our ‘sessions’. I suppose if I’m desperate, I’ll get a hold of him.”

“You know you could always just have him on backup for sex. Like a friends with benefits situation.”

“Janet, I’m in my late 20s. I’m too old for that kind of relationship.”

“Exactly, you’re in your late 20s! This is the perfect time for that kind of relationship before you settle down and get married! Have one last final hoorah!”

“I can’t have this conversation before caffeine. I’m going to get coffee. You act like I’m dying soon or something.” You turn to walk away but then remember you were supposed to tell her something. “Oh yeah and by the way. The bulge is definitely not stuffed.”

You give her a wink and then head to the break room for some much needed coffee. When you see who’s in there, you almost contemplate going downstairs to a different break room.

Steve is standing at the counter, preparing his coffee. He turns when he hears you come in and gives you a once over. “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

You grab a mug out of the cabinet beside him. “Sorry my appearance isn’t up to your standards today, Rogers. I was a little...busy this weekend.”

He takes a sip of his coffee to make sure it’s right. Then he moves out of your way so you can get to the coffee, but still staying close. “Busy getting run over by a truck? Cause that’s kind of what you look like.”

You pour yourself a generous amount of coffee and take a long sip, letting the bitter liquid slowly make you human. “Yeah, well. I was busy getting fucked all weekend, Rogers. But I know your little innocent mind wouldn’t know what that’s like.”

That wipes the stupid little smirk right off his face. He almost looks pissed. He moves even closer to you. Almost pressing himself right up against you. So close that you can smell his coffee-scented breath. If you were wearing panties, they’d be ruined.

“Not all of us feel the need to sleep around. Some of us are looking for a real connection. Not just a one night stand of meaningless, mediocre sex.”

You press yourself just a little closer to him, his chest now touching yours. “Oh, it was anything but mediocre. Maybe if you actually got some, you’d know what that feels like.”

He leans his head down until his mouth is next to your ear, his left hand now resting on your hip. “You really need to stop insinuating that I’m a virgin sweetheart. If you were nicer to me, I’d show you that I know how to fuck.” With that he backs up and heads out of the break room.

You let out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Jesus Christ. You swear you almost came.

And if you were nicer to him? Fuck him. He’s not nice to you either. That’s okay. You have someone who can scratch this itch.

You pull out your phone and send a quick text.

To: Fuckboi

You busy tonight? I could really use a release.

The reply came almost immediately.

From: Fuckboi

Didn’t get enough of my cock this weekend huh? I suppose I could make myself available.

You roll your eyes and quickly reply with your address and what time to be over.

The rest of the day passes by slowly. It takes you half the day to enter Steve’s expense report. God he’s descriptive. At least it’s completed. You can’t really say that much for the other Avengers. They usually half assed them and made them barely acceptable.

You are shutting down for the day when Steve approaches your desk. You remove your glasses and look at him expectantly. “Is there something I can help you with, Steve?”

A blush creeps it’s way across his cheeks. “Um, I was actually just wondering if you had time to go over the new expense report forms? They should be a lot easier to fill out.”

You glance down at the clock on your computer. Ransom is going to be at your place in about 20 minutes.“Can we do it tomorrow? I have company that’ll be showing up at my apartment in like 20 minutes.”

His hopeful smile falls. His face is now unreadable. “Would your company happen to be whoever you spent the weekend with?”

Confused, you grab for your purse after getting your computer shut down. “Actually, yes. Should I have asked your permission first?” You attempt a joke to ease the sudden tension.

He pulls out his phone and starts typing furiously. Wow. You weren’t aware he knew how to text. You hear it ping with a reply before he angrily puts it back in his pocket. “Sure, we can do this tomorrow. Wouldn’t want to get in the way of your whoreing around.”

Your jaw drops in surprise. Sure you guys were always throwing jabs at each other. But he’d never said anything like this before. And in such a mean tone.

You round your desk and stand right in front of him. “Fuck you, Steve.”

You hurry towards the elevators before he can see the tears that have welled up. You couldn’t let him know he had that power over you. Asshole. Thank god Ransom was coming over. Hopefully he could fuck what Steve just said right out of your head.

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You’ve lost count of how many orgasms Ransom has pulled from you with his mouth when there’s a knock on your door.

Ransom looks up at you from his kneeling position on your living room floor. “Did you invite someone else to join us, pretty girl?”

You scoff and push him away so you can stand up. You pull your dress down as you make your way towards the door. “Yeah. I can barely handle just you. I’m pretty sure if we added someone else, I’d actually die.”

You open the door and gasp in surprise. “Steve? What are you doing here?”

He rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Look, I know you probably already have company but I felt really bad about what I said to you earlier today and wanted to apologize.”

You have so many questions. “How did you know where I lived?”

That sheepish smile makes its appearance again. “I may or may not have looked in your employee file.”

You shake your head. “And you felt the need to come all the way here and apologize? Why not just text me?”

“It would only have felt right to me to do it in person. I really am sor-”

You feel a pair of arms wrap around you from behind. “Well, who do we have here? Why is Captain America at your door?”

You turn your head to address Ransom. “He just came by to apologize to me. I think he was just leaving.”

Steve has a disappointed look on his face. “Yeah, I suppose I was.”

“Awe, what a shame. I thought you were gonna ask him to join us, pretty girl.”

Steve’s eyes grow wide at the thought. You quickly speak up. “No, I don’t think he’d be comfortable with that. He’s a little old fashioned.” You give him a sincere smile. You didn't think that was a bad thing.

Steve looks back towards the elevators and then back to you. He clears his throat. “What if I wanted to join you?” Seeing your wide eyed look, he quickly adds, “Only if Y/N would be comfortable with that of course.”

You contemplate what the consequences could be in your head. But then you get distracted when Ransom starts grinding his hard on against your ass. “Come on, pretty girl. Make a decision.”

The next word comes out of your mouth faster than what your brain can process. “Okay.”

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Now you were standing awkwardly in your bedroom with Steve and Ransom looking at you expectantly.

You’ve never done this before so you’re not sure how this is supposed to go. “So, um. How do we start exactly?”

Ransom smirks and comes up behind you. “I think you should call the shots, pretty girl. If you’re okay with that, Steve?”

With the mention of his name, he walks towards you and places his hands on your hips. “I think that’s a great idea. Can I kiss you now?” He places his hand under your chin and raises your face up to meet his. “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.” With that, his lips meet yours. It’s explosive. You quickly wrap your hands around his neck and press yourself up against him.

You get so lost in the kiss, you forget that Ransom is there. That is until he presses his lips against your neck and presses himself against your ass. It presses you even further against Steve, making you feel his excitement against your lower belly.

You’re so overwhelmed already and you’d barely started. You may not survive this evening.

As you move your hands down to remove Steve’s shirt, Ransom is unzipping your dress, pressing kisses to every inch of exposed skin.

Without breaking the kiss, Steve moves his hands around to unhook your bra so he can get his hands on your breasts. He pinches your nipples, causing you to moan into his mouth. He moves his lips to your neck, sucking on your pulse point.

After successfully removing your dress, Ransom stands back up and turns your head to connect your lips. He starts rutting his clothed hard on against your naked ass. His left hand reaches around to bat one of Steve’s away so he can squeeze your breast.

Steve takes the hand that had been swatted away and moves it down to your soaking wet core. He starts lightly circling your clit. Just enough pressure to make you mewl.

You reach behind you with your left hand and tug at the waistband of Ransom’s briefs. “Off.” You moan out as you take your right hand and start attempting to take off Steve’s jeans. He smirks into your neck and helps you out. He barely gets them unbuttoned and unzipped before you’re reaching your hand into them and his boxers to grab his cock. It feels big.

Ransom grabs your left hand and places it on his now free cock. You wrap your hand around it and give it a squeeze before you start pumping your hand up and down. You do the same to Steve’s, making the both of them let out grunts against both sides of your neck. Steve increases the pressure on your clit a little. Still not enough.

“Nee-need, you. Please.” You weakly moan out. Ransom moves his mouth up to your ear. “How do you want us, pretty girl?”

You reluctantly pull away from both of them so you can think. You decide to be greedy. You point to Steve. “I want you to lay on the bed, please.”

He does as you ask. Putting his hands behind his head as he awaits further instructions.

You get on the bed and straddle him. You turn around and reach your arm out for Ransom. “Want you behind me.” You lean over and open your bedside drawer to grab the lube and toss it at Ransom. He smirks as he straddles Steve’s legs and gets behind you. He uncaps the lube and starts coating his cock with a generous amount. “Need my cock in that ass, pretty girl?”

You hold up your hand. “Wait.” You lean down towards Steve and give him a quick kiss. “Are you okay with this?”

He nods his head. “As long as you are.” You raise back up and smile at him. You turn your head and look at Ransom. “I’m assuming you're okay with this?”

He just smirks and squeezes some lube out so that it slides down the crack of your ass. “More than okay, pretty girl. Need me to stretch you out first?”

You smirk and pull him in for a quick, filthy kiss. “I think it got plenty stretched out this weekend.”

He matches your smirk. “You little slut. Wanting both of our cocks stuffing you full.”

You whimper as he lands a smack on your ass. Leaning up on your knees, you grab a hold of Steve’s cock and start running his tip up and down your folds. He places his left hand on your right hip and his right hand on your left thigh. “Condom?”

You quickly shake your head and pause your actions. “On the pill. Unless of course you’d be more comfortable with one.”

He shakes his head. “No, just making sure.”

You turn back to Ransom. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready for you.”

He nods and places his hands on your shoulders, waiting somewhat patiently.

You slowly sink down on Steve’s cock. He’s stretching you out so deliciously. It burns in just the right way. Ransom may be longer, but Steve is definitely thicker.

After you get fully seated on him, you take a minute to adjust. It only takes a few seconds. You turn your head towards Ransom. “Okay, I’m ready.”

He removes his right hand from your shoulder and grabs the base of his cock and starts pressing against the tight ring of muscle. He’d been in there a lot over the weekend. But it was still a tight fit regardless. He doesn’t go as slow and sheaths himself to the hilt, causing you to moan out in slight pain and pleasure.

Holy fuck. You feel so full. You think you might die. That is until Ransom removes his cock until just the tip remains and then forcefully thrust back in, causing you to grind on Steve’s dick.

Steve grunts out from the movement and starts thrusting up into you the best he can from his position. Ransom wraps his left arm around you and continues his thrusts, not letting up his pace. You don’t even really have to move, the both of them doing it for you. They somehow find the perfect rhythm. Each of them pulling out and pushing in at the same time. One of your hands is behind you, resting on the back of Ransom’s head while the other is resting on Steve’s chest.

Steve sits up suddenly and pulls you in for a kiss. “Like being stuffed with both of our cocks, pretty girl?” You hear from behind you. “Yes. So good. So full. Gonna cum.”

Ransom removes his arm from around you and reaches down and starts circling your clit. “Do it. Cum all over us. Make a mess.”

Steve can feel you squeezing him. “Please, sweetheart. Need to feel you cum on my cock. You’re gripping me so good.”

You explode. You clamp your eyes shut, seeing stars behind your eyelids. You let the both of them fuck you through it.

Ransom’s hips stutter. The fluttering around his cock is too good. He cums with a shout of your name, filling up your ass to the brim. He gives you a few more thrusts before he pulls out and collapses beside you two.

Steve’s been patient while you come down from your high. He lays back down, pulling you with him so that your chest to chest. He bends his knees and grabs onto your hips. “You ready, sweetheart?” You raise up, both of your hands on each side of his head. You give him a nod.

That’s all he needs. He starts fucking you, hard and fast, chasing his release. He can feel it building. He just needs to feel you come undone around him again. He moves one of his hands and starts circling your clit with his thumb. “Need you to cum for me again, Y/N.”

You shake your head. “Can’t. Too much.”

Ransom sits up beside you. “I know what she needs.” He reaches over with his left hand and wraps it around your throat, squeezing gently.

It makes you clench down on Steve’s cock. “Yeah? That all you needed, sweetheart? A hand wrapped around your pretty throat? I know you like it. Can feel you squeezing me.” He picks up his pace. The only sounds that can be heard are his grunts, your breathy monas, and skin slapping against skin.

It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to hit you. This one is somehow even more intense than the last.

You must’ve blacked out for a few seconds because the next thing you know, you’re waking up in between Steve and Ransom.

Steve smiles down at you. “There she is. We lost you for a second, sweetheart.”

You feel drunk. You smile goofily up at him. “Did you cum?”

Just as you ask that, you can feel his release seeping out of your overused cunt. Then you feel cum leaking out of your ass. You hide your face behind your hands in embarrassment. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

Ransom removes one hand while Steve removes the other. “Nuh uh uh. No hiding allowed, pretty girl. I have no regrets.” He looks at Steve. “Do you?”

Steve smiles down at you and leans down to press a soft kiss against your lips. “None from me. You tired, sweetheart?”

You let out a big yawn and nod your head, slowly closing your eyes. “Get some rest, pretty girl.” That’s the last thing you hear before sleep takes you.

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You wake up sometime in the early morning, stretching out your sore limbs. You know you have a dumb smile on your face. But you can’t help but notice your empty bed.

You sit up and hiss at the deliciously sore feeling between your legs. You grab your robe and slip it on. You can smell coffee coming from the kitchen. You giddily make your way out of the room and down the hallway. They both barely just come into view, still unaware you’re there, when you hear Steve speak.

“I thought you were going to be an asshole to her? Make her see I’m not that bad.”

You hear Ransom next. “I was an asshole to her. I’m sorry I dicked her down so good that she wanted more.”

Steve scoffs. “I never gave you the okay to fuck her!”

“You also didn’t tell me it was off limits. Look you got what you wanted right?”

“No, actually I didn’t. I didn’t pay you so we could have a threesome together.”

What the fuck? Steve paid Ransom to help him get in your pants?

“Ok, how about this? I’ll give you all of your money back if I can fuck her one more time before I go? Then we’ll be squared away.”

Steve seems to be conflicted. “Fine! But this is the last time Ransom. I have to get to work anyway. After this, she’s mine. And make sure she’s not late for work herself.”

Before you have time to react, Steve rounds the corner and sees you standing there. He has a deer caught in headlights look. Ransom comes up beside him and sees you. “Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.”

You slowly start backing up towards your bedroom. Steve moves towards you, stopping once you put your hands up. “Stay away from me! Both of you! I want nothing to do with either of you!”

Ransom moves past Steve and grabs onto your arms. “Oh, please. You’d fuck us again if we wanted. Wouldn’t you?”

You spit in his face. “Fuck you, Hugh.”

He gets a sinister look on his face. “Wrong move, pretty girl.” He looks toward Steve. “Don’t worry, I’ll fuck the brat out of her. You better tell her boss she won’t be in today.”

Your eyes go wide at his words. You start thrashing against him, trying your best to get away. Steve has had enough. He comes over and yanks you away from him and presses you against the wall. “You better calm down, sweetheart. I’ll treat you like a princess if you can be my good girl. Can you do that?”

You shake your head. “Why would you think I’d want anything to do with you after finding out you paid someone to help get into my pants?”

He gives you an evil smirk. “Because if you don’t, I’ll just have to release the tape of last night on the internet. Let everyone see how much of a slut you actually are.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re bluffing.”

He smirks and turns his head towards Ransom. “Show her.”

Ransom gets his phone out of his pocket and swipes at the screen for a second before turning it in your direction.

Holy shit. They weren’t bluffing. There you were, getting fucked by the both of them. That would ruin you if it got out. Not only would you get fired, but your parents would probably disown you. You’d never have a normal relationship again. You’re fucked. Even more than you were last night. How had you not noticed they were recording it?

Ransom must have read your mind. “I set my phone up while you were busy with Steve’s fingers on your cunt and his tongue down your throat. I think you need to ask her again Steve.”

Steve grabs your chin and moves your gaze onto his face. “I’ll ask you again. Are you going to be my good girl? Let Ransom fuck you one more time and then it’ll just be me and you?”

You drop your gaze to the floor. You feel a tear run down your cheek as you whisper out, “I’ll be your good girl.”

Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @harrysthiccthighss @lllols @patzammit @quxxnxfhxll

Steve Taglist: @donutloverxo

#captain america #dark!steve rogers/reader #dark!steve rogers smut #model!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale smut #siris5ksoftdarkchallenge #this sweater wearing menace #shield throwing daddy #steve rogers smut #steve rogers #chris evans #chris evans smut #steve rogers x reader

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hrina · 3 years

Text

Be Sweet, Pt. I

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: M (minors dni!) WORD COUNT: 6k

hey everyone! here's part one of my new enemies-to-lovers series :) this fic will be five parts in total, but i'm only posting the first part on tumblr. you'll be able to read the rest of it on patreon if you wanna sign up!

as always, reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated. i love hearing your thoughts! enjoy.

~*~

August 27th, 2021

“Who’s opening tomorrow?”

Ella scrubs a wet rag across the table closest to the door. You cast a furtive glance up at her, flipping absentmindedly through the jumble of papers on the counter in front of you. Nick’s messy scrawl catches your eye, and you pause, reading the haphazard comment written at the bottom of the page.

Customer requested a very specific shade of pink trim. See back for details.

You flip the order, scoffing at the Pantone strip taped to the other side. The square labelled Quartz Pink has been singled out, encircled in bright red. Jesus fucking Christ.

“Alice and Olly, I think,” you say, shoving the form to the bottom of the pile.

“That’s good,” Ella grunts, returning the napkin holder and the sugar dispenser back to their spots on the table. “And you’ll swing by sometime during the afternoon?”

“Yeah,” you say, drumming your fingers over the papers. “I’m gonna help Olly in the back. You know how much he hates dealing with fondant.”

“How could I forget?” Ella rolls her eyes, smiling to herself. You grimace when she tosses the damp cloth in your direction. It lands on the counter with a loud splat! You nudge it away with your elbow, shaking your head.

“Gross.”

“You’re gross,” Ella says.

“I’m lovely,” you reply. She grins.

“Where’s Alex taking you tonight?” you ask, changing the subject. Her eyes light up instantly, and she clasps her hands together against her chest.

“It’s a surprise,” she says, giggling girlishly.

You groan. “I hate surprises.”

“It’s a good thing he’s not your boyfriend, then, isn’t it?” she retorts. You snicker, and she continues: “He told me we should stop off at home to change, though, so I’m guessing that wherever it is, there’s a dress code.”

“Ooh, fancy.”

“Right?” She twists her wrist, peeking at her watch. “He should have been here by now. It’s already a quarter past seven.”

“The hospital is just down the street,” you remind her, organising the mountain of orders into a neat stack. “Give him another five minutes.”

She nods. You spin on your heel and push through the door leading to the backroom of the bakery. The large space is split into two sections: on your right, there’s a wall of ovens, and a cluster of metal racks filled with pale, unprocessed dough. On your left, tables and counters lined with all sorts of decorating necessities—piping bags, spatulas, scrapers, turntables. You make your way toward the small cabinet perched against the nearest wall and pull out the top drawer, sliding the orders inside. Olly should have no trouble locating them tomorrow morning.

When you return to the front of the shop, Ella is locked in a passionate embrace with a gangly, dark-haired man. You recognise him immediately.

“Doctor Dao,” you call out, resting your elbows on the counter. “Did you at least wash your hands before putting them all over my best friend?”

Alex and Ella break apart swiftly, but he keeps one arm wrapped around her waist. “Hey, cookie,” he says, flashing you an apologetic grin. “Didn’t see you there.”

You arch one brow, lips curling into an amused smirk. “I’ll say.”

Only then do you catch sight of the other man lingering by the door, and your smile quickly morphs into an irritated frown. Harry is watching you with twinkling eyes, like he knows the effect his presence has on you. How could he not? You don’t try to hide your disdain, especially when it comes to him.

“Harry,” you say curtly, lifting your chin in stubborn acknowledgement.

He brings two fingers to his temple—a mock-salute. “Sweetheart.”

You clench your jaw. God, he makes your blood boil. Rather than responding, you turn back to Alex, who is now smoothing his palms over Ella’s silky brown hair. “You’re late,” you tell him. “You were supposed to be here when we closed.”

“Sorry, cookie,” Alex says, and he sounds like he means it. “My last surgery of the day had a few…complications.”

You purse your lips as the annoyance melts away. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” He nods, blowing out a heavy breath. He looks tired. “We figured it out.”

“That’s good.”

Alex directs his attention back to Ella, leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to the tip of her nose. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” she replies. “Just let me grab my bag.”

“Cool,” he says. “You don’t mind if we drop Harry off at his place, right? His car is fucked, apparently.”

Ella’s grey eyes widen. She peers over her boyfriend’s shoulder at Harry. “What happened?”

Harry waves away her concerns, chuckling quietly. He tugs on the collar of his blue scrubs, and you can’t stop your gaze from trailing across the plethora of tattoos inked into his arm. Your nose wrinkles at the sight. He looks ridiculous. What kind of doctor would agree to don such outrageous body art?

“He’s being dramatic,” Harry says, shooting Alex a pointed glare. “My car’s at the shop right now, but I’ll have it back by tomorrow evening at the latest.”

“Oh.” Ella relaxes. “Okay, that’s great. Babe—” She turns to Alex. “—when are our reservations?”

“Eight-thirty,” Alex says. “Plenty of time.”

“Awesome,” she chirps. She scurries around the counter and playfully bumps her hip against yours. “My purse is in the back. Give me one second.”

And then she’s gone.

You stare at Alex, fighting a clever smile. “Tonight’s the night, huh?” you murmur, quiet enough so that there’s no chance of Ella overhearing.

He beams, shouldering his knapsack and dragging his sweaty palms down the front of his shirt. His scrubs are a light purple, you note. The shade compliments his dark skin.

“Yeah,” he replies, gnawing anxiously on his bottom lip. “She’ll say yes, right?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes good-naturedly. “Of course she will.”

Just then, Ella bursts through the door, her leather purse swinging wildly against her waist. “Alright!” She claps once, striding over to you and planting a wet, sloppy kiss onto your cheek. “I’m off.”

“Bye,” you say, wiping her saliva from your face with the back of your hand. “Have fun.”

Alex waves at you as she tugs him out of the bakery. “See you later, cookie.”

You wink. “See you.”

Harry is the last one to leave. He glances at you momentarily, the corners of his lips quirking up into a smug smile. The look makes you bristle. He’s absolutely infuriating.

“Got any leftover almond croissants?” he asks. Silent laughter taints every word.

You point to the exit. “Get out.”

He bows his chin in farewell, approaching the door. “Sweetheart.”

“Asshole,” you reply flatly. Now that your friends are out of earshot, you’re under no obligation to tolerate him. Sometimes, you find yourself actually craving his company, just so you can drop the pretence and really give him a piece of your mind. You’re a mature adult, and you won’t ruin a social gathering because of one presumptuous dickhead, but everyone has their limits. You don’t owe him shit.

Harry chuckles to himself, and you clench your fists at your sides. He shoots you one last maddening smirk before disappearing out the door. You rush forward, latching it swiftly and ensuring that the sign against the glass reads ‘CLOSED’. Once you’ve successfully locked up, you march into the back of the shop, plucking your own purse off one of the metal counters and tugging it over your shoulder. You shut the light and return to the front, scanning the clean tables, the empty display cases, the shades drawn over the windows. Shards of the sunset stream through the cracks in the blinds, casting orange stripes along the floor.

All clear, a voice in your head whispers, and you sigh.

Finally—you can go home.

August 28th, 2021

Quick, frantic knocking rouses you from your sleep. Blearily, you sit up on the mattress, knuckling at your puffy eyes. The hardwood floor is cold against the soles of your feet when you climb out of bed. You shiver.

The insistent clamour continues as you pad down the hallway. You tug at the hem of your worn, baggy t-shirt, concealing your midriff. Ella wastes no time after you open the front door, surging past the threshold and vaulting herself into your arms.

“He proposed!” she squeals as the two of you stagger backward. You freeze, remembering Alex’s plans from the day before. His apprehension, too—the way he wiped his clammy palms against his scrubs and anxiously dug his teeth into his bottom lip. Shock ebbs and flows through your veins for a fraction of a second, but then you’re sweeping Ella into a tight hug, rocking your bodies from side to side.

“Oh my God,” you say. Excitement festers beneath the murky exhaustion clouding your mind. “He did it.”

Ella steps back, brows knitting together in bewilderment. “You knew?” When you nod, she scoffs, aiming a half-hearted swat at your bicep. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“Why the fuck would I tell you?” you retort, rolling your eyes at the demand. “Come on. Let’s see it.”

A bright grin stretches across her lips, and she holds up her left hand, wiggling her fingers keenly. You spy the ring resting on the fourth digit: a simple platinum band topped with a large, clear diamond. Grey morning light bounces off the gemstone, and it winks at you as if it knows something that you don’t.

“Gorgeous,” you breathe, gripping Ella’s wrist to bring her hand closer. You scrutinize the ring carefully, smiling to yourself. “He’s got good taste.”

“Doesn’t he?” she gushes, beaming like an idiot. You beckon her into the kitchen, and she collapses onto one of the tall stools positioned in front of the marble island. A quick glance at the digital clock on the stove reveals that it’s only eight in the morning. You groan, rubbing gentle circles against your temples.

“I was hoping I’d get to sleep in today,” you say, lips curling into a wry smirk.

Ella shoots you a sheepish, apologetic smile, sliding her purse off her shoulder and placing it on the counter. “I’m sorry, cookie. I couldn’t wait.”

“I’m just kidding,” you tell her, floating around the room to prepare a pot of coffee. “So…how did he do it?”

She launches into a frenzied retelling of the night before. Alex brought her to the same restaurant they’d visited four years ago on their first date. They ordered their food and made conversation. Things proceeded as usual until the end of the meal, at which point Alex set his napkin down on the table and excused himself to the restroom. Two minutes later, the waiter arrived with the bill. Ella accepted it graciously, scanning the thin paper and pausing at the question scrawled at the very bottom of the slip. When she snapped her head up, searching for her boyfriend in the crowded dining area, she found him kneeling a few feet away from her chair, a small velvet box nestled securely in his steady hands.

“I started crying immediately,” she tells you, groaning at the memory. “I couldn’t keep it together. It was so embarrassing.”

You toss your head back and laugh. Despite the crimson blush staining her cheeks, she joins in. The coffeemaker beeps, signalling that the pot is ready. You fetch two mugs from the cupboard and fill them with dark liquid. Ella accepts her drink eagerly, blowing cool air across its surface. You grimace as she takes a tentative sip—you’ve never understood her penchant for unsweetened black coffee. Sugar and cream are a must.

“I’m so happy for you, El,” you tell her, stirring a small spoon around your mug. “You’re going to be the most beautiful bride.”

Her eyes grow damp. You snicker quietly, reaching across the island and swiping your thumb beneath her bottom lashes. She catches your hand and kisses your knuckles softly, clearing her throat.

“Will you—?” She releases a shuddering breath. “Will you be my maid of honour?”

You stiffen at her request. Her gaze rakes over your face, like she’s searching for any clue as to how you might respond. At last, your shoulders sag in relief, and an ecstatic smile splits across your cheeks.

“Of course,” you say, voice thick. Tears gather in your own eyes, but you blink them back furiously. “I would love nothing more.”

She sets her coffee down and skirts around the counter, yanking you into another bone-crushing hug. You grin as she presses a handful of sloppy kisses to the side of your head. Her elbow knocks against your abandoned mug, and a few drops of coffee spill down the side of the cup. You laugh at her enthusiasm, pulling back and sweeping your hands over her silky hair.

“It’s probably way too soon, but have you guys started discussing anything?” you ask, arching one eyebrow.

Ella flushes pink, averting her gaze. “Um…when we got home, there wasn’t really much of a discussion going on.”

You cackle, poking at her ribs. “Oh, he gave it to you good, didn’t he? It’s a miracle that you’re not limping right now.”

“Be quiet,” she yelps, stamping her eyes shut.

You lift your hands and shoot her a teasing smirk. “I’m not judging, okay? If anything, I’m living vicariously through your various sexual conquests. It’s been months since I last got any action.”

“Maybe that should change,” Ella says, folding her arms over her chest. “You and Harry could probably fuck out your frustrations. His dick is huge, apparently.”

You balk. “Ella!”

She shrugs, grey eyes widening comically. “What? Alex told me!”

You snort, but say nothing. She watches you cautiously, examining your features for any signs of acquiescence. Any indication that you might actually be considering her lewd suggestion. You almost gag.

“Why do you hate him so much, anyway?” Ella asks, flicking an invisible speck of lint off her shoulder. “You’re not still hung up on that fiasco with the almond croissant, are you?”

“I’m not doing this with you again,” you say, and she sighs.

“Okay, I’m sorry. But can you at least try to be civil while we plan the wedding? For my sake.”

After mulling over her words, you slouch in defeat. “Fine. But only for you,” you say, throwing a stern finger in her face.

She beams. “Thank you.” Something dirty flashes behind her pale eyes. “And if you do end up sleeping with him, I want all the details.”

You shove her gently and scoff. She laughs.

“Honestly,” you start, shaking your head, “it doesn’t matter how huge his dick is. I’d rather walk across hot coals than let somebody like him climb into my bed.”

“What makes you think it wouldn’t be the other way around?” Ella snickers. You glare at her, but she just steps back, raising her hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, fine. Have it your way. But I’m expecting you to find someone in time for the big day. Don’t let your plus-one go to waste.”

You roll your eyes, thoroughly unconvinced. “Noted.”

September 2nd, 2021

“Olly!” you call, sticking your head into the backroom. “Ella and I are going on our lunch break, but Leyla will be here in, like, twenty minutes. You going to be okay by yourself until then?”

Olly doesn’t even bother looking over his shoulder, too busy piping little flowers along the sides of the rectangular cake laid out in front of him. He lifts one hand, waving away your concerns before running his palm over his short blue hair. He buzzed and dyed it just last week after claiming that he couldn’t stand how the long brown curls stuck to the nape of his neck. It took a few days to get used to the change, but now that the initial shock has faded, you have to admit that he looks great.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Olly says, putting the finishing touches on the cake. He sets his piping bag down and turns toward you, wiping his palms against his red apron. His left ear bears a swirl of shiny silver piercings. “I’ll be out in a second.”

“Thanks,” you say, flashing him a small smile. He returns it, and then you’re spinning on your heel and letting the door swing shut behind you.

You find Ella waiting outside the bakery. She urges you along, and you squawk at her impatience.

“What’s the rush?” you ask, falling into step with her as you both amble down the sidewalk. “We have forty-five minutes.”

“I don’t want Alex’s sandwich to get cold,” she explains, holding up the small paper bag clutched in her right hand. You snort.

The two of you make it to Ridgefield Hospital in record time, mostly because Ella grips your arm and gives it a forceful tug whenever you start lagging behind. You walk through the automatic doors, ignoring the row of ambulances parked outside. The secretaries sitting at the front desk shoot you a few distracted smiles—they’ve all grown accustomed to your frequent visits by now.

Ella babbles endlessly as you enter the elevator, pressing the button for the fifth floor and waiting as the metal doors slide shut.

“I want to ask Alice and Leyla to be part of the bridal party, but I’m scared the guys will feel bad if Alex doesn’t choose them as his groomsmen. Like, I think they’d understand, considering I work with the girls and we’re all pretty close, but I don’t know.” She nudges you with her elbow. “What do you think?”

“I think you should do whatever the fuck you want,” you tell her, shrugging. “It’s your wedding. And I don’t think Olly, Marcus, or Nick will mind if they’re not part of the bridal party. Olly doesn’t care about that stuff, and Marcus and Nick already have their hands full with their jobs at the bakery. Plus, they know Alex has his own friends—not just the ones he’s met through you.”

Ella nibbles on her bottom lip, her head bobbing in agreement. “Yeah, you’re right.”

You lay a placid hand on her shoulder. “You’re already overthinking this. You’ve only been engaged for a week. Enjoy it.”

She shoots you a grateful smile just as the elevator dings and the doors glide open, and the two of you step out onto the hospital’s paediatric floor. It’s a stark contrast to the other sections of the building. Instead of barren white walls, these ones are painted with all sorts of pretty, colourful decorations—flowers, rainbows, sunsets, animals. A massive sign in front of you denotes the different divisions on the floor and where to find them: the ICU, the operating rooms, the palliative unit, the psychiatry wing, and the oncology department. You and Ella turn right, making the familiar trek to Alex’s office.

“He should be on his lunch break, too,” she says. “Unless they paged him for another emergency surgery.”

You hum in response.

Sure enough, you find Alex at his desk, twirling a blue pen between his fingers as he pores over the stack of papers in front of him. Ella knocks gently against the open door, and his face lights up when he spies her standing in the threshold. He moves quickly, crossing the room in five long strides, and plants a searing kiss onto her lips. You look away, rocking awkwardly on the balls of your feet.

“Hey,” Alex murmurs after he and Ella break apart. That’s when he notices you behind her. “Hey, cookie.”

“Hey,” you reply. You toss your thumb over your shoulder. “I’m just going to—you know, the usual.”

He nods.

The last thing you see before you turn around is Ella holding up the brown paper bag, and Alex’s face splitting into a bright, easy smile.

You meander through the halls, trailing your fingers over the rich artwork covering the walls. The end of the corridor cleaves in two; you turn left and enter a large atrium. The ceiling is high and peppered with skylights. A small cafeteria sits off to the side, clusters of families chatting and laughing together as they eat. Children sprint around the space, their arms outstretched. Some of them are dressed in normal clothes—others don pale hospital gowns, their skinny legs bared for all to see. You wrench your attention away from them, fixing it instead on the far wall.

Slowly, you cross the room, surveying the vibrant handprints stamped against the plaster. There has to be hundreds of them, you think. They vary in size—some are so tiny you could cry. Colour becomes scarcer the higher you go—the youngest children are too short to reach those levels, obviously—but still. The sight takes your breath away. You visit this mural every time you find yourself at the hospital, and every time, you unearth a new detail that you hadn’t noticed before.

You walk along the length of the wall, dragging your fingertips across the dry, smooth paint. Purples and pinks and oranges and blues. Reds, greens, yellows, browns. Each handprint is a person—a pair of little feet that scuffled over this very floor, a blank story that had yet to unfold. Briefly, you wonder how many survived whatever illnesses plagued them, and how many succumbed to their conditions. The thought makes your throat grow tight with emotion, so you quickly shove it aside.

Ten minutes pass before you’re leaving the mural behind and heading back the way you came. You’ve just rounded the corner when a strong, solid body barrels into you. You grunt at the impact, smacking one palm against the wall to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you start, lifting your head to meet the stranger’s gaze. “I wasn’t paying—oh.”

Harry smirks, his green eyes glittering with mirth once he recognises you. You purse your lips, wishing the ground would just open up and swallow you whole.

“Harry,” you say, nodding stiffly.

He folds his arms over his chest. “Sweetheart.”

His brown hair is tousled, and his biceps strain against the white button-up adorning his torso. Black slacks cover his legs, and he’s wearing a pair of pristine leather shoes, ones that look like they might’ve cost a month’s worth of rent. Your teeth grate together noisily. The sound echoes in your ears.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asks, as though the two of you are old friends. You want to scoff—you’d rather stick your hand in an oven than make idle conversation with him.

“Visiting Alex,” you say tightly, stepping back. “Ella brought him lunch.”

At that, Harry straightens. “Ella’s here?”

“Yes.”

“I wish I’d run into her,” he murmurs, pinching his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger.

You throw him a scowl. “Asshole.”

Harry cocks one eyebrow, tilting his chin haughtily. “Forgive me if I prefer her company to yours. At least she doesn’t treat me like I’m some insufferable bastard.”

“Maybe if you stopped being such an insufferable bastard, I wouldn’t treat you like one,” you shoot back, planting your hands on your hips. You tense as Harry’s gaze rakes down your body—head to toe, like he’s sizing up an opponent. His nose wrinkles in disdain, and you fight the urge to deliver a sharp, backhanded slap across that pretty, perfect face.

Harry opens his mouth, and you brace yourself for whatever retort he has prepared. What comes out is nothing overtly nasty, but it is enough to make you want to shrink away and curl into yourself until you wink out of existence.

“You smell like yeast,” he says, and tosses in a derisive sniff just for the added effect.

You recoil as the words slam into you, blinking in shock.

Asshole. Rude, arrogant, condescending asshole.

“I own a bakery,” you grit out. Harry shrugs, but says nothing else. Your lips flap wordlessly as he pushes past you, his shoulder bumping against yours. You watch him go, massaging the tender spot on your arm with shaky fingers. Your eyes fall to his ass for only a moment before skittering away, and a hollow laugh catches in your throat.

What a fucking prick.

September 17th, 2021

“Attention, everyone!” Ella stands at the head of the table, clinking her fork delicately against her glass. “I wanted to make a little toast.”

The conversation around you tapers off into silence. You sit back in your chair, focussing on your best friend. She looks splendid in her pretty blue dress, her dark hair twisted into an elaborate knot at the nape of her neck. She peers around the room, chewing nervously on the inside of her cheek. When her gaze locks with yours, you grant her a tiny, encouraging nod.

She beams, her next words imbued with renewed enthusiasm. “I wanted to thank all of you for coming here tonight to celebrate our engagement with us.” She holds out her hand, and Alex presses a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “We’re so grateful to be sharing this milestone with such a wonderful group of people.”

You inspect the other guests gathered around the table. To your right sit Alice and Leyla, the first employees you hired when you were trying to get your business up off the ground. It’s odd seeing them like this—poised and elegant, looking nothing at all like they do during the long, arduous shifts at the bakery. Alice’s blond hair has been fashioned into an intricate braid, and Leyla’s brown eyes are lined with dark kohl and smoky eyeshadow. They clean up nice, you must admit.

Next to Leyla: Ella’s older sister, Hillary. They have the same piercing grey eyes, though Hillary’s hair is a shade lighter. You didn’t miss the sour expression that trundled across her face when you waltzed into Alex and Ella’s condo. She’s jealous, you think. Jealous that Ella chose you as her maid of honour instead of her. You’ve been ignoring her resentful glares for the better half of the night, letting her bitterness pass over you like a cloud. Whatever her problem is, it’s clear that the issue lies between her and her sister. You’re not getting in the middle of that.

It doesn’t help that she’s been fawning over Harry all evening. Upon witnessing her coquettish behaviour, you glanced at Ella, brows raised, but your best friend just rolled her eyes and yielded a helpless shrug of her shoulders. At least the attraction didn’t appear to be one-sided—that would have been humiliating, you think—because Harry gave as good as he got, chuckling sincerely and flirting right back. You had to suppress the urge to retch, and sent out a quiet prayer of gratitude when Ella and Alex sat them as far away from each other as possible at the beginning of the meal.

On the opposite side of the table: Alex’s groomsmen—Milo, Sasha, and Connor. You’ve been in their company a few times, mainly on birthdays and other special occasions. According to Alex, they all met when Milo accidentally vomited during their very first anatomy lesson at medical school. Milo insists that the putrid smell of the cadavers was simply too awful to bear, but everyone else claims that he just couldn’t stand the idea of being so close to a dead body. No matter the truth, the story always makes you giggle. The four of them have been good friends ever since.

The five of them, you remind yourself as your gaze settles on Harry, who is lounging in the chair directly across from you.

Harry—Alex’s best friend. Harry—Alex’s best man.

You wanted to rip your hair from your scalp when Ella broke the news. Several images flashed through your head all at once. You and Harry inching rigidly down the aisle, arms linked. You and Harry donning the same colours, your gown complimenting the spry flower pinned to the lapel of his suit. You and Harry flanking Ella and Alex while they recite their vows, glaring daggers at each other behind your friends’ backs. Even now, the mere thought of it has you biting down on an exasperated groan.

You don’t realise that you’ve zoned out until the faint quirk of Harry’s mouth catches your eye. You blink once to yank yourself from your daze, and clench your jaw when you find him staring at you with an amused look on his face. He places his elbows against the arms of the chair and clasps his hands together. Unmistakable smugness emanates from him, as if he somehow managed to crawl inside your mind and saw exactly what you were envisioning. Your nostrils flare, and you fix your attention back on Ella, who has reached the end of her speech.

“Cheers,” she says, holding up her glass. The champagne inside sloshes and fizzles temptingly. Would she allow you to chug the entire bottle, if you asked?

Everyone around the table mirrors her movements, raising their own drinks and touching them together lightly. Quiet, delicate clanking fills the room, and the friendly chatter resumes. You nudge Ella with your elbow, shooting her a proud smile. “That was great, El.”

She beams. “Thanks, cookie.” She then picks up her fork and motions to the plate in front of her, piled high with seasoned chicken and steaming, roasted vegetables. “Let’s eat.”

~*~

“Are you sure you’ve got him?” Alex asks Sasha, gesturing to the very inebriated Connor wobbling at his side.

Sasha wraps one arm around their friend, letting Connor rest his full weight against him. He bares two rows of perfect ivory teeth, flashing a wicked grin. “Yeah. Besides, I’ve been meaning to pay him back for the shit he pulled at the barbecue last month. There’s a Sharpie in my car.”

“You’re going to draw a dick on his face, aren’t you?” Alex muses.

“Obviously.”

With that, Alex bids them both farewell, shutting the door and heaving a dramatic sigh. Ella approaches him after a moment, hooking her chin over his shoulder and murmuring something indiscernible into his ear. He chuckles softly.

“Didn’t peg you as the voyeur type, sweetheart,” a low voice says from behind you.

You jump, whirling around and coming face-to-face with Harry. He’s got a green washcloth slung over his left shoulder—the shade brings out his eyes, a traitorous voice in your head whispers—and his arms are folded neatly across his chest. Your gaze falls to the collar of his black button-up, where he’s undone the first two discs, leaving his sternum exposed. Tendrils of ink peek out from beneath the dark material.

You frown and take a step back, putting distance between your bodies. “You’re such an asshole.”

“So I’ve heard.” His lips twitch, and he rolls up his sleeves. “Now, if you’re done ogling them like a lovestruck puppy, I could use some help in the kitchen.”

You grit your teeth, but follow him into the other room. Harry grabs the rag hanging over his shoulder and holds it out for you. You snatch it from his fingers without a word, and the two of you take up residence in front of the sink. Harry plunges his hands into the soapy water, rinsing the dishes thoroughly before passing them to you. You stand as far away from him as possible while you dry each plate, your movements stiff and choppy. This is not how you wanted to finish off the night, but Alex and Ella spent the entire day preparing the food, and it was delicious. The least you can do is spare them the hassle of tidying up.

The tense silence eats at you, until you feel like you might explode. Unable to bear it any longer, you hastily blurt, “Saw you getting pretty cozy with Hillary before dinner.”

Immediately, you want to kick yourself. Where the fuck did that come from?

Harry snorts, shrugging coolly. “We’ve hooked up a few times, but it’s nothing serious.” He shoots you a mischievous grin. “You jealous?”

“Of Hillary?” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Please. The woman’s standards are practically underground. Why else would she be interested in someone like you?”

Harry scowls, and hot satisfaction surges through your veins. Yes, the taunt was mean, but no, you don’t care. “You’re a real bitch sometimes, you know that?” he says.

You flash him a petty, insincere smile. “Only to you.”

He squeezes the yellow sponge nestled in his right hand, scrubbing it forcefully across a dirty plate. “Maybe you should find someone to hook up with. It might help get that stick out of your ass.”

“I have better things to do,” you sneer, narrowing your eyes.

“Better than sex?” He chokes on a derisive laugh.

“Yes.”

“Like what?”

“Like…things!” you snap, fingers curling into tight fists. “I run my own business, for God’s sake. And I’m going to make Ella’s wedding cake.” You announce the last part proudly, hauling your chin into the air.

Harry, however, looks unimpressed. He shakes his head, blowing out a heavy sigh. “Uh-oh.”

You pause. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs again, but you detect a hint of malice behind the action. “It’s just…I’ve seen the way you decorate cakes. Ella might be better off going elsewhere—you know, to an actual professional.”

Son of a—

“That’s rich, coming from you,” you say, motioning to the mismatched tattoos littered across his arm. “What would you know about professionalism? It looks like you let a preschooler doodle all over you.”

Harry bares his teeth in a feral grin. “Deflection. I’m not surprised.”

You bristle at his words. “Asshole.”

“You’ll need to get a bit more creative with the insults, sweetheart. I’m growing bored.”

“Is that so?” you say. “I think ‘asshole’ suits you just fine. Maybe you should have become a proctologist instead of a paediatrician.”

“At least I pursued something I was good at. I’m not sure if you can say the same.”

“You fucking—”

“Everything okay in here?” Ella asks, floating into the kitchen. You spin around to conceal your anger, placing your hands against the counter and inhaling deeply. You roll your shoulders back and slap an artificial smile onto your face before turning once more.

“Everything’s fine,” you say, and fake a yawn, covering your mouth with your palm. “I think I’m going to call it a night. I’m exhausted.”

Ella’s bottom lip juts out into a pout. Her red lipstick has faded, leaving only a stain of scarlet in its wake. On cue, Alex walks into the kitchen behind her, setting a steady hand on her hip and cocking his head to the side. “Hey. Everything okay in here?”

You nearly snort. Fucking soulmates.

“All good,” you tell him, nodding brusquely. “I’m just going to finish up with the dishes and head home.”

“Okay.” Alex presses a soft kiss to Ella’s temple, murmuring something about needing to get out of his stuffy clothes. You whirl, drying the last of the plates with frantic, shaky fingers. In your peripheral vision, you spy Harry watching you, but the stupid bastard must possess some scrap of self-preservation, because he keeps his mouth shut. You say nothing else as you whack the rag down onto the counter and stride out of the room.

You don’t miss Alex and Ella’s hushed whispers at the other end of the hall, but a little voice in your head tells you not to interrupt them. You halt at the front door, snatching your purse off one of the metal hooks mounted on the wall. You’re in the middle of putting on your shoes when you hear it:

“I was hoping we could arrange a truce, you know.”

You twist around, palm flying to your chest. Harry is standing a few feet away, his hands still wet with the water from the sink. He clasps them together and ducks his head, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think he was ashamed.

Something vile bubbles in the pit of your stomach. You gnaw on the flesh of your cheek, trying to reel your emotions back in. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of witnessing another outburst.

“Keep your fucking truce,” you spit, and wrench open the door. You shoot him one last withering look before stepping out of the condo and slamming it shut.

#be sweet #harry writing #lmao you can tell i've given up on posting my writing on tumblr cus i don't even tag it with the typical fic tags anymore 😭

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therealvinelle · 3 years

Note

LOVE your blog so much! Your answers are amazing and so thorough. Wondering your thoughts on the Leah / Emily / Sam situation? Was there a better way this could have ended? Would it have been better for Sam to imprint on Leah, and would he if she didn't turn into a wolf? What sort of relationship must Leah / Emily have had if Emily was able to just live happily ever after with Sam? Do you think Sam secretly was attracted to Emily pre-imprint? TIA!

Sorry about the wait!

My thoughts on the Leah/Sam/Emily situation is that there were no winners and no bad guys, only losers and hurt feelings. It's angst galore.

My thoughts on imprinting, for the record.

So, to recap what happened, Sam and Leah were in a serious relationship, they started dating in her freshman year and were a big item. When Sam went missing after phasing, it was Leah and his mom who coordinated the search.

Then Sam came back and wouldn't tell anyone where he'd been (resulting in a host of rumors), Leah included. The elders soon told him what was happening, and he took up the mantle of tribe protector.

I'll just quote the book:

“Sam couldn’t tell Leah. We aren’t supposed to tell anyone who doesn’t have to know. And it wasn’t really safe for him to be around her — but he cheated, just like I did with you. Leah was furious that he wouldn’t tell her what was going on — where he’d been, where he went at night, why he was always so exhausted — but they were working it out. They were trying. They really loved each other.” (Eclipse, page 70)

Sam and Leah were struggling with their relationship, but they didn't want to give up what they had and were working on it, even with something as big as "honey, I disappeared for two weeks and now take off every night. We cool?" in the way.

It was an impossible situation, but their love was true and in any other story they would have been the Superman and Lois Lane of Twilight.

Enter Emily.

“Sam did love Leah. But when he saw Emily, that didn’t matter anymore.” (Eclipse, page 71)

Sam and Leah were over then, and through no choice nor fault of anybody. Sam was wholly devoted to Emily now, body and soul, and Leah fell off the radar.

It was an awful situation for everyone involved. Leah had been put through so much by Sam, but she loved him and was willing to put up with all of it so long as he could have him, and then he announces he's fallen for her cousin instead (whom Jake specifies was like a sister to her), after only a glance at her. That's just inconceivable. Emily was ruining Leah's relationship just by existing, again completely unwanted. And Sam was the cause of all this misery, holding all the responsibility and blame without ever getting to have a choice in any of this.

“You wanted to know what happened to Sam to make him hate the vampires for changing him, to make him hate himself. And that’s what happened. He broke Leah’s heart. He went back on every promise he’d ever made her. Every day he has to see the accusation in her eyes, and know that she’s right.” (sic)

There was never going to be a happy ending to this mess.

And then it got worse.

Sam told Emily the full truth about what was happening, but the conversation got heated and he mauled her. This ended up bringing them together, as Emily found herself falling in love with him in spite of everything. She had, initially, rejected him for Leah's sake.

So now we have a love triangle where one person gave it all for love only to lose both her lover and her sister, you have the unintentional homewrecker who gets mauled, and you have the man whose biological wiring compels him to break the heart of the woman he once loved and then sees him disfigure the woman he currently loves.

I see only losers and heartbreak here.

They're all remarkably mature about this, perhaps too much so. Leah was betrayed by Emily at first, now that she knows the truth she is putting on a brave face so aggressively that she agreed to be a bridesmaid. Leah, no, girl, don't do this to yourself. Good jesus, someone needs to get that girl ice cream and a Netflix account. And a cat.

So, to answer your questions, no, there's no better way this could have ended. That's the tragedy of it all. Everyone involved tried to do the right thing and fought for love.

Yes, it would have been better if Sam imprinted on Leah, that would be the dream ending where all the difficulty above was avoided. He could have told her the truth right away, and nothing would have gotten in between them.

Leah and Emily were close, that's the thing, and Emily's first impulse was to be loyal to her cousin. She only changed her mind when she fell in love with Sam, at which point she followed her heart. She's not a bad person for wanting to be happy. Rejecting Sam would not have sent him back to Leah.

As for whether Sam was attracted to Emily before the imprint, could be. Emily is a beautiful woman, and it's normal for straight and bisexual men to be attracted to beautiful women. It's normal to notice other people even while you're in a happily committed relationship. That wouldn't make him less devoted to Leah.

In summation, I hope the best for all three of them and don't blame any of the parties involved for what happened. Fate dealt them a cruel hand.

#sam uley #emily young #leah clearwater #twilight #twilight meta #twilight renaissance #twilight imprinting #imprinting #emily/sam #leah/sam

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breakyeol · 3 years

Text

— WHAT HE LOST

So you got dumped. It sucks, but hey, at least you’ve got your best friends who always seem know exactly what to do to help make you feel better.

┗ Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader x Baekhyun

Genre: friends to lovers au, angst, fluff, smut

Words: 12.8k (I wish I was kidding)

Rating: 18+

Warnings: strong language, drinking, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of cheating, explicit sexual content ; dom(?)baekhyun, switch sub!chanyeol, switch!reader, their roles ended up being very blurred, you’re the bologna in a chanbaek sandwich, threesome, very mild dirty talk, teasing, oral (f. & m. receiving), gentle throat fucking, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, squirting, yeol just wants to be a good boy but baek just wants to break the headboard

A/N; the poll I did for this fanfic was so fun!!! I seriously love interacted with you guys and receiving your feedback! I definitely think it’s something I’d like to do again in the future! I hope you guys enjoy the results! PS, I low key suck at writing endings sorry loves.

It’s half past two when you show up in front of their door, clothes soaked and heavy from the rain you hadn’t bothered to shield yourself from, heart bruised and aching from the ruthless beat down it had been forced to endure. It’s been a really long night.

Chanyeol is the one to finally open the door, face flushed and swollen, pink lips dry and pouted, dark hair unruly and disheveled with a ridiculous cowlick you would find incredibly amusing if not for the crushing weight of the night’s previous events still weighing heavily on your chest.

“Y/n?” He rasps, blinking hard twice, as if he hadn’t recognized you at first. You wouldn’t hold it against him, you probably look like a drowned rat in your current state.

A shaky grin pulls at your lips, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Hey, Yeol.”

His brows furrow and he swipes a large hand down the length of his face. “What time is it? What– what are you doing here?” There’s no malice in the question, only drowsy confusion as he tries to put the puzzle pieces together in his sleep hazed mind.

Instead of answering, you tip your chin forward and ask one of your own. “Mind if I come in? It feels like my fingers are about to fall off.”

All of a sudden his eyes pop open real wide and he gasps, as if just then realizing that you were standing outside his door in the freezing night air, drenched to the bone. He immediately ushers you inside, appearing genuinely distraught. “Jesus, you’re soaked. Did you walk here or something?”

Combing your wet hair out of your face, you offer a blunt nod of confirmation. “Yup.”

His jaw drops and he splutters in disbelief. “You walked here? In the pouring rain? Are you insane?! It’s the middle of the night! Something terrible could have happened to you! And you’re not even wearing a coat!” He gestures wildly at your waterlogged t-shirt and jeans, all drowsiness gone from his eyes.

“I’m fine, Chanyeol.” You sigh, moving past him and into the warmth of his apartment.

“Y/n, that really wasn’t smart. You should’ve called me.” He insists in that disapproving tone that reminds you of a parent scolding a petulant child.

You turn to him with raised brows, the vague outline of amusement tinging your words, “Would you have woken up?”

“You should’ve called until I did,” he shoots back without missing a beat, following close on your heel as you make your way into the living room and fall onto the couch with a soft grunt, “or you could’ve tried Baekhyun. Or literally done anything other than walk all the way here in the middle of the night in the pouring rain.”

He’s right, of course. It was dangerous walking alone at night, no matter how tough you think you are, bad things can happen to anyone. But the danger of walking the streets at night hadn’t been so much as a second thought when you left. There were far more prominent concerns plaguing your mind.

“Yeah, well.”

A beat of silence passes, and you feel the shift in Chanyeol’s gaze. You don��t dare to look over as he sinks into the space on the couch beside you, though all you really want is to lean into the comforting warmth of his body.

“Hey... are you alright?”

A painful lump forms in your throat at the question. “I—” you wince as your voice cracks, words falling dead on the tip of your tongue. Fuck. Why was it so hard to say?

“Y/n?”

The way he says your name nearly shatters the dam, and you just barely manage to pull yourself together enough to avoid turning into a sobbing mess on his couch. Snagging your lower lip roughly between your teeth, you offer a weak hum that pitches strangely in your throat– which most definitely does not go unnoticed by the boy who knows you too well for your own good.

Chanyeol’s concerned eyes sweep over your expression, those damn eyes that can see right through any mask you attempt to wear, before he speaks again in a voice so soft you could feel the steely grip around your heart ease. “Let me get you something dry to wear. Then we can make some hot cocoa and you can tell me what happened, okay?”

The idea of being dry and warm again was more than appealing enough for you to force the corners of your lips upward and manage a light nod of agreement. “Yeah.”

He shoots you a sweet smile, reaching over with a large hand to affectionately ruffle your wet hair and pushing himself off of the couch before you can retaliate. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move, I don’t need you and all your drippiness flooding the apartment. I’m pretty sure you’ve already ruined our new couch.” He teases lightheartedly, that familiar bubbling laughter erupting from his lips as you swing your middle finger up at him.

You feel yourself deflate somewhat when he vanishes into his bedroom, leaving you alone once more. It was unusually quiet. Though understandable given the time, you aren’t used to the silence of the apartment and find yourself craving Chanyeol’s booming voice and Baekhyun’s obnoxious teasing. Without them, there’s nothing to distract your scrambled mind, and you can’t stop it from lingering on the frustration and sense of betrayal that torments your heart. Squeezing your eyes shut, you sink into the plush cushions, a soft groan escaping your tensed lips.

This. Sucks.

Luckily, you aren’t alone long enough to dwell on it too deeply.

Your head snaps up at the sound of a door thudding shut, a murmur of gratitude on the tip of your tongue, but you are surprised to see a very much still half asleep Baekhyun come stumbling into the living room, donning a pair of plaid pajama pants and a tight white t-shirt that hugs the gentle swells of his chest. His eyes are barely open as he all but throws himself onto the couch, immediately curling up into your side. You only chuckle, nuzzling your nose into his cinnamon scented hair and petting down his unruly bed head as it tickles your chin.

“You’re wet.” Is the first thing he murmurs into the silence, voice thick and hoarse in his throat. You can’t suppress the shiver that ripples down the length of your spine as his warm breath washes over your icy skin, the sharp contrast in temperature startling to your senses.

“I didn’t notice.” You hum, resting your cheek against the top of his head.

“And cold.” He grumbles additionally, arms coiling tightly around the curve of your waist and tugging you flush against him. The heat of his body is more than welcome, and you’re happy to allow him to cuddle into you. It’s easy to find comfort in his familiar embrace.

“Chanyeol is getting me something else to wear.”

His head tips back at that, and you have to draw away to keep your noses from colliding. Hooded eyes drag slowly over your face, warm and searching. You swallow nervously under the intensity of his scrutinizing gaze and quickly turn away, hoping he hadn’t seen the tell tale signs of your internal turmoil. But it seems both of your best friends are more observant than you give them credit for.

You jolt in surprise as he suddenly grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to face him again. The unexpected proximity has warmth rushing into your cheeks, and you clear your throat, eyes looking anywhere but his face. Nonetheless he still manages to read you like the pages of a children’s book.

“You’ve been crying.”

Instinctively, you try to put some distance between you and him, swatting his hand away and plastering an unconvincing scowl across your face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His lips part, and you brace yourself, knowing by the look on his face alone that he’s going to push the matter.

“Ah, Baekhyun, you’re awake.” You let out a breath of relief as Chanyeol steps out of his room, a set of black sweats and a towel draped over his arm. Perfect timing. Baekhyun nearly topples over as you jump up from the couch, quickly making your way over to where the younger boy stands. “Y/n, I got y—”

“Thanks, I’ll go change.” You rush out, cutting him off abruptly as you pull the clothes from his arms. You manage a quick smile of gratitude before you’re hurrying past him and into the bathroom, slamming the door more harshly than you intended behind you.

Very subtle, y/n.

“Fuck.” You hiss through clenched teeth, silently cursing yourself out.

Moving towards the sink, you stare at your disheveled reflection in the mirror with a weak grimace. You knew you looked like a mess but damn. You really look like you’ve been put through the wringer tonight. Which, of course, you kind of had been, but still.

It takes longer than you anticipated to wriggle yourself out of your wet clothes, nearly falling on your ass more times than you care to admit out loud in your numerous attempts to peel off your jeans. But in the end, it was more than worth it to feel the soft, warm fabric of Chanyeol’s oversized clothes against your skin. The faded scent of his aftershave eases the tension in your shoulders, but you can’t fight the buzz of nerves that come to life in your stomach as you step back out the door.

The rich, sweet scent of hot chocolate is the first thing to greet you upon your return. Noting the emptiness of the living room, you come to the quick conclusion that they’re both most likely in the kitchen. On quiet feet, you shuffle over to the entrance, peeking your head around the wall. They’re facing away from you, leaning against the island and exchanging whispered words, voices just low enough that you can’t make out what they’re saying. Though, there’s little doubt in your mind that you’re the subject of their heated conversation.

Deciding to make your presence known, you clear your throat and step onto the cool tile. Two heads whip in your direction, startled. The looks on either of their faces makes you think of two children being caught doing something they definitely should not be. Exactly... what had they been talking about?

Chanyeol is the first to move, plucking up the mug from the countertop and making his way over to you. “Extra marshmallows and extra whipped cream with a pinch of cinnamon,” he says, a soft smile on his lips and a warm blush on his cheeks, “just how you like it.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, grateful for the warmth of the smooth white ceramic against your palms. “Thanks, yeol.”

“Let’s sit!” Baekhyun exclaims before you can even take a sip, hands finding your shoulders and steering you back towards the couch. You’re too focused on not spilling the contents of your cup to make any sort of objection.

It’s only when squeezed between their two bodies on their slightly too small couch, their concerned but curious eyes burning into the sides of your face, that you begin to wonder if it was the wisest idea to come here. But then remember just how badly you were craving a good hug and sigh, knowing if anyone was gonna give you one, it’d be one of these two dopey boys.

It’s obvious neither of them are going to speak first, probably not wanting to push you incase you weren’t ready to talk about it yet (though, the intensity of their stares were doing just that), so you decide to take the initiative before the awkward tension can get even more unbearable.

“We broke up.”

You bring the mug to your lips, taking a tentative sip of your gradually cooling hot chocolate as you allow them to absorb the new information.

“Well, shit.” Baekhyun coughs. Chanyeol reaches behind you to smack the back of his head, hissing something about being insensitive but you’re already more than aware of how they feel about your boyfriend— ex-boyfriend.

Since you first started talking to him, neither of the boys were his biggest fan. To their credit, they tried their best to be supportive, but it was hard to miss the dampening of the mood whenever you brought him up and the glares they’d shoot in his direction when they thought you weren’t paying attention. You called them out on their passive aggressive behavior on a number of occasions, and they were always quick to defend themselves with the claim of getting ‘bad vibes’.

Looking back, you probably should’ve given their suspicions some deeper consideration.

But you had just liked him so much. It was hard for you to see past the handsome, charming exterior to what really laid beneath. Gilded boys had always been your weakness, always enchanting you with the prettiest of lies only to shatter you with their ugly truths.

You should have known better.

“Are you alright?”

You shrug, sucking your lower lip into your mouth with a heavy exhale from your nose. “I’m fine, really. I’m just... embarrassed, I guess.”

Baekhyun blinks at you in confusion. “Embarrassed? Why are you embarrassed? He should be the embarrassed one for losing someone as amazing as you.”

“I’m embarrassed because—” you wince, bracing yourself for the response that you just know you’re about to receive, “because he dumped me.”

“What?!” Chanyeol erupts, nearly making you spill your hot cocoa from the sheer explosiveness of his reaction, “you let that literal piece of walking human trash—!”

“Chanyeol.”

At Baekhyun’s sharp interruption, the emotional younger immediately slumps, guilt painting his face as he looks at you with remorseful eyes. “I’m sorry.”

You only smile, squeezing his hand in reassurance.

“So,” Baekhyun begins cautiously, “what happened?”

No point beating around the bush now. “We were hanging out at his place. I found a pair of underwear that weren’t mine in his bedroom. Confronted him. He called me a clingy bitch and told me to get the fuck out and never come back.” You say this as nonchalantly as you can manage, but your hold on the cup tightens substantially and an unmistakable thickness rises in your throat. You curse yourself silently for feeling like shit over a guy who obviously couldn’t be bothered to give even half a shit about you.

“He cheated on you?” Chanyeol leaps up from the couch, eyes wide and furious. If you were to look close enough, you were almost certain you’d see fire burning within them.

“That fucker.” Baekhyun all but snarls, hands balling into tight fists. “What’s his address?”

“Baekhyun—” you sigh, leaning forward to set your hot chocolate down on the coffee table.

“No, I’m dead serious, what’s his address?” He pins you with a look that tells you he is very much not messing around. They were being ridiculous, angry over things they couldn’t change. It was pointless and harmful to dwell on things that had already happened. You’d much rather pick yourself up and move on than allow yourself to keep hurting over a stupid boy.

Of course, that’s easier said than done. And your best friends are not the types to just let things go. Not when the people they care about are wronged.

Chanyeol seems to be off in his own little world, ranting furiously to himself while cracking his knuckles in a way that is probably meant to be intimidating (though, to you, the giant puppy is anything but). “There’s no way I’m letting a piece of shit like him get away with this. God, I knew he was a scumbag the moment I laid eyes in him. I should’ve—”

“Guys, please.” Your voice cracks when you finally intervene, and that’s all it takes for their immediate anger to fizzle out.

The tension in their shoulders melts, their features softening drastically as they spot the glistening of tears in your eyes despite your feeble attempts to blink them away. In an instant, they’re cuddling back up against you, murmuring soft apologies and pleading for you not to cry over someone like him. But the dam is already broken, and salty tears are swelling up in your eyes and spilling down your cheeks before you can stop them.

Everything you’d been holding back comes bubbling violently towards the surface. Sobs wrack your chest, and you cling onto the hands of either boy as they watch you helplessly.

Chanyeol, the big softie that he is, has to bite his lip to keep the tears threatening to swell in his own eyes at bay. He’s never been good at holding himself together when he sees you hurting. He feels everything with his entire being, his empathy for his friends and the people he cares about on another level. But that big, stupid heart of his is one of the many reasons you adore him.

Baekhyun, on the other hand, is not the most suave when it comes to comforting people. Most of the time he’ll try to crack jokes and make light of the situation, but he knew better than to break out his usual antics when you were in such a state. So he held his tongue, opting to wrap his hand around yours in hopes of comforting you in even the slightest.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” You groan once your sobs subside into sniffles and you feel the warm flush of embarrassment filtering into your cheeks at your own outburst. You really hated crying in front of people. So it wasn’t too often that your friends, or anybody for that matter, saw such a raw display from you. “It’s just so frustrating and humiliating, you know?”

There’s a moment of silence as you wipe the tears from your face with the hand not held in a death grip by Baekhyun. It’s the nice kind of silence though, the kind you don’t have to fill and don’t really want to, encasing the three of you in a little bubble of comfort. Of course, with these two, you can’t expect it to last long.

“If I ever see him again,” Chanyeol huffs, dropping his chin onto your shoulder, “it’s on sight.”

You laugh at that, the sound hoarse and nasally and just plain awful, but genuine nonetheless. Raising a hand, you comb it through his soft black locks in a show of gratitude.

“Baek?” You turn to him with a sniffle. He hums softly in acknowledgement, tracing comforting circles against the top of your hand. “Do you have anything to drink?”

“What? Is my hot cocoa not good enough for you?” He teases light-heartedly and you chuckle, shaking your head.

“It’s delicious. But I was thinking of something… a little stronger.”

A mischievous grin upturns the corners of his lips as he realizes what you’re suggesting. “I’ve got just what you need.”

“You know what, FUCK MEN. They’re all stupid. Who needs ‘em? Not me.”

“Yeah men are assholes!” Baekhyun agrees loudly, thrusting his empty shot glass in the air, before pausing and reconsidering his words. “Wait, I’m a man.”

“You and Yeol are the only exceptions.” You reassure, slapping your hand down on his shoulder. He grins widely at that, satisfied. “But every other man— they can all suck my dick,” you continue your tirade, swinging your hands around animatedly, “they’re all liars and cheats and idiots and I’ve had enough of they’re bullshit to last three lifetimes.”

Chanyeol giggles softly from where he’s situated on the floor between your legs which are draped lazily over either of his broad shoulders, his head resting on your thigh, obviously amused by your tipsy antics.

The first shot went down hard, more bitter than your resentment for your piece of shit ex-boyfriend. The second soothed the ache in your chest and allowed for the tension in your muscles to gradually ebb away. And the third? Well, you opted to take your time sipping on that one, not wanting to completely lose yourself in the intoxicating buzz.

You were never the biggest drinker, but sometimes a few shots of something a little stronger than beer helps take the edge off. Right now seems as good a time as any for some liquid courage.

“You wanna know the worst part?”

However, one of the biggest reasons you erred on the side of caution around alcohol was because you had a tendency to spill things that didn’t necessarily need to be exposed. Especially not to your tipsy best friends at three in the morning when emotions ran high and couldn’t be easily stifled.

“What?” Baekhyun leans closer, eyes wide and burning with curiosity at the sudden somberness of your voice. Chanyeol tilts his head back at the shift in tone, looking up at you through dark lashes.

“In the three years we were together,” the two boys strain their ears as your voice drops into a careful whisper, as if someone other than them was around to hear the secret you hadn’t dared to share with a single soul up until this point, “he only ate me out once.”

For a moment, you think the disbelief that flashes across their faces is because you’ve brought up something of a sexual nature. But that thought is quickly squashed.

“Once? In three years? Is he insane?!”

“Shows what kind of man he really is.” Baekhyun scoffs, clicking his tongue. “Did you go down on him?”

You nod in reluctant confirmation, still sober enough to feel the slightest pinch of shame at your admission.

“That’s not how it works! Sex is about give and take, balance,” Chanyeol enunciates the word carefully, and you can’t help the upward twitch of your lips at the seriousness of his expression and the passion behind his words, “You can’t just receive without giving anything back!”

“He said he didn’t like it. And he only did it that one time because we fought on my birthday two years ago and he felt bad.” You explain, pouting heavily as you recall all the times he refused to go down on you.

Baekhyun blanches, jaw dropping. “You haven’t been eaten out in two years? Oh, baby...” you can feel the empathy rolling off of them in thick waves as they allow the new information to really sink in.

“I know, I know! Please don’t make me think about it anymore.” You whine distraughtly, rubbing your hands roughly down your face as frustration and annoyance bubble up inside of you. “I’m already pent up enough as is. That selfish bastard— he couldn’t even make up for it with his stupid dick either. He was all talk when it came to things like that. He only ever cared about getting himself off. It didn’t matter if I felt good as long as he could get his dick wet. What bullshit! Do you even know how many orgasms I had to fake?!”

Everything you’d kept inside comes exploding out of you in a rush of fiery passion, refusing to remain bottled up for even a moment longer. But of course, the moment it’s out and unable to be taken back, you regret saying anything about it at all. Red hot embarrassment floods your senses and you sink in on yourself, slapping a hand over your offending lips.

Damnit. You really shouldn’t have taken that third shot.

“Fuck. I’m sorry. That was— I shouldn’t have—” you attempt to backtrack, mouth twisted into a grimace.

There’s an exchange of glances that you don’t see, too wrapped up in your own humiliation to notice.

Then, a gentle hand slides over your thigh and you jolt in surprise, head snapping up to find a very serious Baekhyun looking back at you. You’d never seen this kind of expression on his face before. It was different then his usual playful grin or teasing smirk. Darker, somehow... dangerous. Like he was looking right through you and seeing everything you’d kept so carefully bottled up inside. It incites within you a vulnerability you had long forgotten.

“When was the last time you came?”

The question catches you off guard, to say the very least.

“Shit, i-it’s not like I keep track.” You laugh weakly, trying not to focus on the warmth seeping into your lower belly or the proximity of their bodies. But then his fingers are feathering over the curve of your knee and your heart is picking up speed and you’re left wondering at which point this conversation took such a turn.

Between your legs, Chanyeol shifts and your gaze snap down just in time to see him turn to face you fully, something dark and unfamiliar stirring within those big brown eyes. On instinct, you try to close your legs, but the sheer largeness of his body nestled comfortably between them prevents you from doing anything of the sort.

There’s no ignoring the rush of heat that ignites in your core, the closeness too much for your body to process all at once, only fueled by the long neglected desire for some kind of release.

And the fact that all he needed to do was get just a little bit closer—

But those are most definitely not the types of thoughts you should be having about your best friends. No matter how attractive they are. No matter how good Baekhyun’s pretty hand feels, slowly edging it’s way higher and higher up your thigh. No matter how cute the look on Chanyeol’s face is, a searing blush turning his full cheeks a fiery shade of red that easily consumes the entirety of his handsome face.

Fuck. Why was he looking at you like that?

“Y/n…”

Oh god. Why did your name have to sound like that coming from his lips?

Baekhyun’s fingers find your chin, gently coaxing your attention away from the man kneeling before you and back onto him. Your breathing has become shallow and fast, the insufficient amount of oxygen making you feel somewhat lightheaded. But the sensation is not a wholly unwelcome one. Not when his own smooth, liquor stained breath is like ambrosia on your tongue— heavy and rich and dangerously tempting.

“That piece of shit couldn’t make you feel good, could he?”

“No.” You swallow around the word, willing your treacherous eyes away from the entrancing curve of his pink mouth.

“No…” he repeats softly, tracing his thumb lightly over the flesh of your lower lip, “but I can— we can.” He lowers his gaze, tempting yours to follow as he ticks a brow at the younger boy. “… can’t we, Chanyeol?”

“Yes.” Chanyeol breathes without a moment’s hesitation, nuzzling his nose against the inside of your knee, warm fingertips teasing the cool skin of your ankles before he’s quickly amending, “if it’s what you want.”

Baekhyun’s lips feather over the shell of your burning ear and you feel consumed.

“Do you want it?”

“This is crazy.” It’s a deliberate avoidance of the question and you both know it.

He cocks his head, the corner of his lip curling into a teasing little grin that makes you feel like he can read your mind. “Is it?”

Yes. The word is on the tip of your tongue. But you would be a dirty, filthy liar if you said it had never crossed your mind.

The thought of you and them.

Usually one... sometimes both.

But those had just been fleeting fantasies when nothing else could satiate the unrelenting heat in your belly, shameful fantasies that, for the most part, you kept locked up tight in the furthest corner of your mind and only let out at the darkest hour of the night, when the midnight winds carried away the trembling breaths of their names, a whispered secret shared only between you and the moon. Only then would you dare to bask in their phantom caresses, allow your mind to conjure up images of their faces, twisted in beautiful bliss.

It was a dangerous game you played, but god, it felt too good to be wrong.

Or maybe that was just you trying to rationalize getting off to the thought of your best friends.

After a few moments of you grappling for the right words, Baekhyun tentatively intervenes with the thick, tension-filled silence that had encased the space around you. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. No pressure from us, sweetheart. I understand two at once can be a bit... intimidating.”

Though he started out in a tone that suggested reassurance and understanding, that last phrase, donning an underlying pitch of provocation, gives you pause.

“Are you suggesting you don’t think I could handle the two of you?” There’s a low scoff to your words, a spark of competitiveness that only Byun Baekhyun himself could draw out of you igniting in your stomach.

He smiles at you innocently, walking two fingers up the length of your thigh. “Not at all.” Something about the glint in his eye tells you that that is exactly what he was suggesting.

A light pout touches your lips and you lower your gaze to the man on the floor. “Chanyeol?”

You don’t need to elaborate for him to understand what you’re asking, that familiar boyish grin curling across his face as he props his chin on top of your knee.

“I think you could handle me just fine.”

A shiver ricochets down your spine at the divine way the words drip from his lips, thick and honey like, sensual in their suggestive nature. You hold his burning stare for a few moments longer than you probably should have, feeling yourself slowly being devoured by the dark, ravenous hunger that swirls within it. This was a fire you were not accustomed to seeing ablaze in Chanyeol. You were used to the fire of his competitiveness, the searing flame of his imperishable passion.

But this— this was something new all together.

If you were to touch him, you wonder if you would be able to feel the savage heat of it against your fingertips.

At your sides, your hands itch to find out. But a gentle tug at the string of your- er, Chanyeol’s sweatpants pulls your mind away from that specific thought. You can’t help the shaky gasp that catches in your throat at the sight of Baekhyun’s hands hovering dangerously close to your heat. You can only watch, melting into a puddle of pure need as he twirls the string nonchalantly around his beautiful fingers, slipping his two middle digits into one of the loops and proceeding to curl them in a way that made your mind jump to highly inappropriate possibilities.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

His teeth graze the shell of your ear and the wetness forming between your thighs increases tenfold as the smooth tenor of his voice thrums through your skull.

“I’d love for you to prove me wrong.”

You’re not sure who leaned in first. But the next thing you know, your lips are on his. There’s no time to dwell on the fact that you’re kissing your best friend, your mind rapidly growing hazy from the unexpected intensity. There’s a certain viciousness in his ministrations, a brutality to his lust that he breathes into your lungs and sends blazing through your veins. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.

You can’t help the surprised moan that escapes you when he takes your tongue between his lips and sucks, a low content hum reverberating through his chest before he releases you with a lewd ‘pop’.

“Fuck,” he groans languidly, “You taste like chocolate, baby.”

Calloused hands are curling around your jaw before you can fully recuperate, drawing your attention away from Baekhyun just in time to see Chanyeol’s rapidly approaching face. His dark eyes are hooded and wanting, the faintest of pouts residing on his red-bitten mouth as he breathes in an almost whining tone, “I wanna taste.”

You can think of no reason to object.

His lips slip over yours with a gentleness that is almost staggering. Despite his impatience, there’s an underlying hesitance to his motions, an uncertainty that gives you the feeling that… he’s waiting for you to take the lead. And you do such with fervor.

Raising a hand, you slip gentle fingers up the length of his throat and give an experimental squeeze, not hard enough to do anything other than apply a bit of pressure, but just enough to get your message across.

I’m in charge.

The delighted moan he produces in response makes your lips curl devilishly.

But you’re not given the opportunity to relish in the hot rush of power long, a second pair of lips attaching to your throat making you waver. A hot tongue laves over your collarbone, followed by the sharp pressure of teeth and your jaw goes slack.

Did Baekhyun just bite you?

And… why didn’t you hate it?

Chanyeol takes your open mouth as an invitation, smoothly tilting his head and deepening the kiss. Fuck. He tastes like cinnamon and liquor, a combination you had no idea could be so addictive.

Mind dazed and sufficiently distracted, you don’t notice the hand slipping beneath the fabric of your sweats until a shock of pleasure bolts up your spine. You gasp, breaking the kiss as your eyes drop in order to see which of the two boys is the culprit. Baekhyun lets out a low groan, feathering gentle touches over the soaking fabric of your underwear.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby.” He growls dangerously in your ear. “We’ve barely even started. Are you already that excited?”

You shudder involuntarily, only managing a hoarse moan when he grinds the heel of his palm against your clit. He chuckles tauntingly, as if you’ve just proved his point, but you can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed with the way his skilled fingers are stroking your clothed heat.

The heaviness of Chanyeol’s gaze boring into you, devouring every detail of your blissed expression, only serves in making the sensations all the more intense. You attempt to grind yourself down into Baekhyun’s touch, seeking more friction, only to whimper in dismay as he withdraws completely, leaving you cold, unsatisfied, and aching for more.

“Baekhyun—”

“Take them off.” The abruptness of the command has your breath catching in your throat and a telling warmth fluttering through your core. You weren’t accustomed to hearing Baekhyun’s voice like this, so different from his usually light hearted teasing and playful jibes that it throws you for a moment. He cocks a brow amid your stunned silence, licking over the seam of his lip. “What? You need help?”

Snapping yourself out of it, you swing your gaze over to Chanyeol, offering him a cheeky, lopsided grin. “Can’t say I’d mind it.”

“I’m happy to lend a hand.” He hums, shooting you a playful wink that has a wide smile breaking across your face. He makes quick work of your borrowed sweats, easily tugging the loose fabric down the length of your legs and casting it aside carelessly. You watch the way his eyes flit greedily over the expense of your bare thighs, relishing the low, strained groan that flutters from his gaping lips when his attention fixes on the thin, black, lacy material that separates him from your soaking pussy.

“Those, too,” you instruct softly, sinking your teeth into the inside of your cheek. He swallows, and goes to reach for them, only to draw back abruptly when you swat his hands away with a sound of disapproval, “uh-uh. Do it with your teeth.”

Chanyeol’s breath hitches, a severe blush rushing into his cheeks.

Beside you, Baekhyun grins wildly. “That’s my girl.”

You smirk to yourself at the praise, but don’t remove your eyes from Chanyeol’s for a single moment, absolutely loving the pretty shade of red his handsome face has taken on.

Slowly, he dips his head, not daring to break your gaze as he latches his teeth onto the thin black lace on your underwear and begins to drag them down the length of your legs. Goosebumps erupt across your skin, soothed by the press of his hot palms as they trail his descent down your thighs, over the curves of your knees, down your calves, until you are left bare and exposed before them.

Fuck. That was so hot.

“Cute, isn’t he?” Baekhyun hums playfully against your jaw, like the whisper of the devil in your ear. You let out a trembling breath as the younger boy presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your knee, nodding with an airy sigh of ‘ so cute’. Baekhyun nips at the juncture of your throat, and you can only watch with bated breath as he reaches a hand between your thigh, dragging his long middle finger through your folds, teasing at your entrance. “Want your sweet Chanyeollie to eat your pretty cunt, baby? Hm? Want him to make you feel good?”

Your chest rises rapidly, fast, shallow breaths swirling into your lungs. His filthy words curl beneath your nose, thrumming in your ears, intoxicating and disorienting in their deadly temptation. Desperation tugs at every nerve in your body and your hips buck and roll, chasing his caress. Want pools, dark and heavy, in Chanyeol’s hooded eyes as he watches his friend’s teasing ministrations. He licks his lips, full and pink and glistening in the low light of their apartment and you feel yourself clench around nothing.

“Fuck yes.” The words are nothing less than a growl in the back of your throat, a sound you never thought yourself capable of producing.

Baekhyun suddenly reaches forward, weaving his fingers through Chanyeol’s thick hair and tugging him forward. The younger gives no resistance, bracing his hands on your lower thighs as he allows himself to be guided to you. His lips part, tongue peeking out, and your anticipation skyrockets. But then he stops just short, and all you’re left with is the faint caress of his warm breath to soothe the insatiable ache between your hips. You almost whimper.

Chanyeol’s nostrils flare, eyes sharpening in annoyance as he shoots a glare up in Baekhyun’s direction. He only grins and arches a brow. “What? You’re not gonna ask for it first? Where are your manners, Yeol?” He gasps mockingly, eyes twinkling with mirth.

You don’t expect Chanyeol to give in at first, not with how competitive he could be and especially not with Baekhyun acting so damn condescending. But then he does, and you forget how to breathe.

“Please, y/n,” he pants hotly against your skin, “I wanna taste you so bad. I wanna make you feel good, baby. Let me make you feel good. Please. Fuck, please.” A low, needy groan trembles in the back of his throat, clinging to that last ravenous plea. He snags his lower lip between his teeth and you feel yourself throb. The man looks down right sinful, Baekhyun still clutching onto his inky locks, forcing a slight strain in his neck as he looks up at you with those damn eyes that make your stomach churn and your mind spin.

God, he’s so beautiful.

Overwhelmed with the need to touch him, you nudge Baekhyun’s hand out of the way and replace it with your own, immediately loving the feeling of Chanyeol’s soft hair sliding between your fingers. His eyes flutter under the gentleness of your grip, lips parting as he breathes a delicate sigh, gazing up at you expectantly.

“Come here, Yeolie.”

He’s more than happy to comply.

The first stroke of his tongue sends sparks of electricity shooting through your entire body, a silent gasp shaping your lips. He looks up at you through dark lashes, encouraged and invigorated by your responsiveness to him, licking eagerly at your cunt. Soft moans flutter through his chest, and you shiver at the faint vibrations that are sent pulsing through you.

“Fuck, Chan,” you hiss, rocking your hips forward when he laves over your clit. The friction makes your skin tremble, a dangerous heat rising beneath it. If you knew he was this good with his mouth, you would have jumped his bones a whole lot sooner.

Another moan builds in your chest, but it’s abruptly stifled when Baekhyun tangles a hand into your hair and pulls you into a kiss that doesn’t fail to knock the air out of your lungs. Having both of their mouths on you makes your head spin and you can’t decide which to focus on. You’ve never been with more than one person at the time and it’s slightly overwhelming to suddenly have two men— two gorgeous men at that, both eager and willing to give you more pleasure than you’ve ever experienced.

Warm fingers suddenly slip beneath the thick fabric of your sweatshirt, and you shiver as they glide over your skin, light and teasing in advance towards your chest. A tremor wracks your spine when he pinches a nipple, squeezing his digits around the shape of your breast. Your back arches unconsciously, and you feel him smirk. Distracted, you don’t feel the burn of Chanyeol’s impatient glare until his teeth sink into the soft flesh of your inner thigh.

Yelping in shock, you snap your gaze back down to the younger boy, disbelief coloring your features. He has the audacity to smirk at you, cocking a brow in a manner that has a mixture of annoyance and arousal flaring up in your gut. Any glimmer of smug accomplishment is quickly washed from his face when your hand shoots down and roughly grips the hair on the back of his head, yanking him upwards until your nose to nose.

“Watch your teeth, Yeolie.” You murmur darkly.

“Or what?” The corner of your mouth twitches at his gutsy response.

“Or I’ll make sure to edge you until you cry.”

His eyes widen at the threat and he swallows thickly. From your peripheral, you see the crotch of his grey sweatpants rise.

“Oh? But it looks like you’d like that.” A deep crimson flush rushes into his ears and tinges the tips of his ears and he lowers his eyes, unable to hold your mirthful gaze any longer. “I guess I’ll just have to think of a better punishment.”

“I’m sorry,” his voice comes out airy and desperate, the natural rasp making the knot in your stomach tighten, “I promise I’ll be good.”

“Will you?”

“Yes.” You search his blown pupils for any sign of dishonesty, but find only sincerity and intoxicating lust. Satisfied, you release your tight grip on his hair in favor of gently stroking your knuckles over his blushing cheek.

“Then be a good boy and show me what this pretty mouth,” you trace your thumb gently over the soft, pink flesh of his lower lip, “can really do.”

The moment he’s released from your entrancing gaze, his mouth is on you again, eating you out with a fervor you’ve never before experienced. Your hips buck against him, your head tipping back as you let out rasping groans.

“Fuck, Yeol. That’s it, baby. Good boy.” He moans against you as spill praise after praise, lapping hungrily at your soaking pussy.

“That was so fucking sexy.” Baekhyun growls roughly, kissing you hard once before he’s pulling away to speak again. “Watching you boss him around, take control like that…” his voice drawls into a low groan, “really does something to me.”

“Yeah?” You ask shakily, mind whirling as Chanyeol buries his tongue inside of you. Baekhyun grins, humming lightly in confirmation. “Maybe you should let me boss you around, too.”

“Not a chance.” He chuckles. “Maybe next time. But tonight…” your mouth falls open in a silent gasp as he wraps a hand around your throat, squeezing ever so gently, “your mine, sweetheart.”

Next time. He said next time.

There’s going to be a next time.

The amount of joy you receive from those two simple words borders on irrational.

“I— oh fuck!” You can only cry out in bliss as Chanyeol wraps his lips around your clit, sucking roughly. Your hips jerk and grind, moving on their own accord as he draws you closer and closer to your high. God, you’re so close you can taste it. Your trembling hands find purchase in his hair once more, desperate to hold onto something as the coil in your stomach grows tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment.

“You gonna cum all over Yeolie’s tongue, baby? You gonna cum for us?” Baekhyun coos encouragingly against your jaw, and you can only whimper and nod frantically, unable to speak when Chanyeol sinks a long finger into your wet cunt, fucking you skillfully with his digit while he focuses his mouth on abusing your throbbing clit until your reduced to little more than a trembling, whimpering mess on their living room couch.

“Yes— oh god, yes.”

When the coil snaps, it snaps hard. You can only manage a strangled whimper when it crashes over you. How long had it been since you last come on something other than your own hand? Weeks? Months? You can’t recall. But honestly how much does it really matter when your best friend’s face is nestled snug between your thighs?

The muscles of your legs seize and tremble beneath the force of your release, only held open by Chanyeol’s strong hands. He is unrelenting even as you come undone around him, tongue rolling over your clit, finger curling against your walls as his heady, hooded eyes devour you. You only manage to get him to detach him from you when you give a weak tug at his hair, the post-orgasm sensitivity proving too much for your body to handle.

“F– fuck.” You shiver, panting as tendrils of residual pleasure lick at your senses, the cold phantom of his tongue making you clench around nothing but empty air is pathetic greed. “Fuck, come here.”

Chanyeol is quick to rise onto his knees, obedient as ever, letting out a soft gasp of surprise as you cup his face and draw him into a heated kiss. He melts into you, large hands finding purchase on your thighs (which are still shaking) and caressing them soothingly.

“Thank you,” you breathe against his mouth, “thank you. Thank you.”

You feel him smiling as you continue to express your gratitude in gentle words spoken between deep, passionate kisses and it’s not long before his smile turns into something wide and toothy and uncontainable and he’s bursting into a fit of giggles as you resort to peppering the rest of his face in playful kisses.

“Easy now, sweetheart. Save the aftercare for when we’re done, yeah?” Baekhyun’s lilting hum draws your attention, and you look at him with wide eyes.

“We’re not done?”

His brows jump, that familiar lopsided smirk offsetting his pretty lips. “Are you kidding me? We’ve got two years worth of orgasms to make up for. We’re nowhere near finished.” A shiver of excitement ricochets down your spine at the promise laced into his words, and you have to bite your lip to keep a wide grin at bay.

Suddenly, Baekhyun rises from the couch and it’s with immense effort that you refrain from staring directly at the prominent bulge straining against the thin fabric of his plaid pajama pants. Swallowing thickly, you look up at him as he extends a hand. “Come on. The bedroom is much more comfortable to get your brains fucked out in. Speaking from experience.” You scoff at the sleazy smirk he shoots you, but slide your hand into his nonetheless.

The moment you’re on your feet, your knees buckle and you nearly topple. Luckily for you, Chanyeol has remarkable reflexes (when it counts) and catches you by the waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

“Shit, Yeol. You really did a number on her.” Baekhyun remarks teasingly. A feverish blush rises up your neck and you shoot him a glare.

“Shut up.”

He bites the corner of his lip, gives you a heated once over that leaves your skin burning and trembling, before spinning on his heels sauntering in the direction of his bedroom door. He stops in the frame for a brief moment and shoots you a sultry wink from over his shoulder. “Come make me.”

Fuck.

Chanyeol let’s out a yelp of surprise as you lace your fingers through his and tug him hurriedly in the direction of his roommate’s bedroom. The very second that you’re through the door, lips connect with yours, stealing the very air from your lungs and obliterating any last remaining bit of your sanity. Hands seize your half naked body, eagerly exploring the expanse of your feverish skin. They tug at the hindering fabric of your sweatshirt, until all at once it is being pulled over your head and cast off carelessly somewhere in the darkness. You don’t even shiver, the heat of their bodies surrounding you and warding off the cool air.

Chanyeol takes the opportunity to slide a hand beneath your chin and tilt your head back so that it rests on his shoulder, the tip of his tongue flicking over your lips until they part, welcoming him in. Reaching back, you grab hold of his hips, tugging them forward and guiding them in a slow grinding motion against your ass. He moans hotly at the frictions, kiss turning sloppy as pleasure rushes through him.

You’re distinctly aware of the pressure of Baekhyun’s own mouth beginning a slow descent, starting from your jaw, gliding down the length of your throat, pausing to lick and suck at your sensitive nipples, kissing with a staggering tenderness over your belly. Then you hear his knees hit the floor. All at once, his tongue flattens against your clit, and you have to break away from Chanyeol as your body jolts violently in response. There’s still lingering sensitivity from your first orgasm, amplifying the pleasure tenfold.

And god, it’s so good.

“F– fuck, Baek—” your voice breaks off into a trembling whimper, hips bucking as he sinks a finger into your heat. Followed shortly thereafter by a second. Then a third. The stretch has you keening, leaning the full weight of your body against Chanyeol’s sturdy chest. He’s the only thing keeping you upright at the moment. Had you been left to your own devices, you would have already collapsed.

“Gotta make sure you’re ready for us, baby.” Baekhyun hums with a lightness entirely unfitting for the current situation, nipping at the inside of your thigh. He supplies you with a slow, calculated thrust, biting his lip harshly as he watches your glistening arousal coat his digits. “Fucking hell, your soaking.”

You whimper shakily, head tipping back as Chanyeol nips and sucks at the juncture of your throat, his large hands gliding over the shape of your body as if he intends to commit it to memory— caressing every curve, fondling every edge, touching you, worshipping you with a reverence that pours into your very soul. You’ve never been touched like this before. Most men just think they have a right to you the second your clothes are off (some even before that). There’s no respect, no appreciation, nothing but dirty lust.

But this— this is different. It’s a feeling you can’t quite put into words. The way he’s touching you, like you’re a precious work of art, it makes you feel good. It makes you feel… beautiful. Something you rarely, if ever, felt when you were with your ex.

Baekhyun swirls his tongue around your clit and simultaneously curls his fingers, successfully stroking that long neglected bundle of nerves inside of you. The sensations it sets off inside of you are intense and overwhelming, and within seconds you’re coming for a second time. This orgasm comes completely unexpectedly and without any real warning outside of the breakneck explosion of pleasure that has stars scattering across your vision.

“Baek—!” you can only manage a broken yelp of his name as your body convulses above him, wracked and disoriented by the sudden, explosive burst of ecstasy. Now your shivering, trembling and gasping violently, but not from the cold. He watches in wonder as you unravel, clenching so tightly around his fingers that he can only begin to imagine what you’ll feel like coming around his cock. Shit, he can’t wait to be inside of you. He’s throbbing at the mere thought of it.

Chanyeol’s no better off, barely holding himself back from rutting against you like some kind of animal. But he wants to impress you, show you he has some semblance of self control even when it feels like he might burst in his pants at any given moment. He wants to be good for you. So for now, he can only watch with bated breath, painfully hard in his sweats, as your face contorts into an expression of pure bliss. God, you look so beautiful like this he almost can’t stand it. How could anyone let someone like you go?

“Holy f-fuck.” You whimper, attempting to catch your breath as your high begins to fade. Baekhyun has plastered a cocky grin across his face by the time you look down at him, though his eyes still sparkle with something indecipherable.

“That was a good one.” He says, carefully retracting his fingers from your heat as Chanyeol hums in agreement, nuzzling his nose behind your ear comfortingly when you shudder and whine at the emptiness. “We’re gonna break her at this rate.”

“Not a chance,” you interject firmly, albeit somewhat breathlessly, “I’m a lot tougher than you think.” It’s the truth, but the quiver in your voice begs to differ.

“So you can handle another one?” Baekhyun asks, rising to his full height.

You hold his fiery gaze. “I can handle anything you give me.”

Something in his eyes darkens. “Careful, sweetheart. You have… no idea the kind of filthy, depraved things I want to do to you.” His voice drops an octave, and, despite having already come twice (twice as many times as you were used to), your greedy cunt still throbs with need.

Boldly, you extend a hand, caressing over his clothed length, and feel a surge of pride when he inhales sharply, hard gaze faltering.

Leaning forward, you feather your lips over his, teasing. It’s a dangerous game you're playing, you know that. But you’re enjoying it far too much to stop now.

“Show me.”

Those two little words are all it takes to break Byun Baekhyun.

“Bed. Now.”

Perhaps you’re just a little too eager to comply, barely biting back a grin of excitement as you turn tail and scramble to his king sized bed.

The disheveled sheets welcome you into their embrace, still warm in the spot Baekhyun had occupied prior your unannounced visit. They smell of him, you notice, the coconut of his shampoo, the milk & honey of his body wash, the soft vanilla of his perfume. You recognize the latter as the bottle he “borrowed” from you a few months back and had yet to return. Not that you really mind. You secretly like the fact that he smells like you.

Chanyeol is first to round the side of the bed, ridding himself of his clothes along the way. Shirt first, then pants, and you can’t help but giggle as he hops clumsily out of his boxers, nearly bumping into the nightstand before he falls gracelessly onto the mattress beside you, offering up a sheepish grin.

“Sexy, aren’t I?” Sarcasm bleeds through his tone, embarrassment hot on his cheeks, though it’s quickly soothed as you draw him into a gentle kiss.

“Excruciatingly.” You enunciate teasingly, nipping at the tip of his nose.

The bed dips around your ankles, and you peer down to see a very primal looking Baekhyun crawling towards you, like a predator honing in on his prey. The carnal hunger pooling in his hooded eyes hits you straight in the chest, and for a moment you forget how to breathe.

Slotting himself between your hips, you could easily make out every inch of his length resting against your stomach, hot and hard and throbbing. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anyone inside of you this badly. His head lowers to your throat and he sets your skin ablaze with open mouthed kisses. Chanyeol makes sure the opposite side of your neck isn’t neglected long, feeling the erratic pulsing of your carotid artery beneath the slow strokes of his tongue. Your head falls back into the pillows, a sigh fluttering from your lips as you’re bathed in their affections.

Baekhyun slips a hand beneath your knee, hooking it over his hip. Your lungs tremble with excitement when he slides his tip slowly through your wet folds.

“I’m gonna fuck you until you see stars.”

“I already have,” you smirk lazily in response, snagging the corner of your lip between your teeth, “Twice.”

He doesn’t seem discouraged, curving a hand around the shape of your jaw and feathering his mouth over yours as his eyes glint with something sinful and electrifying. “Then I’m gonna show you the goddamn galaxy.”

There’s no time to respond before his hips are rolling forward, filling you to the hilt with one smooth stroke. A breathless gasp trembles from his throat, “fuck.”

“Does she feel good?” The question that escapes Chanyeol is weak and needy, strained and rough, coming from somewhere deep in his chest. He almost sounds like he’s struggling, battling with himself internally as he watches his best friend’s cock disappear inside of our cunt with a lewd squelch. The searing heat of his gaze makes you whine in pathetic desperation, no longer unable to form coherent words to express your desire.

“Fucking Christ, Yeol. She’s so tight a-and wet— ah, fucking perfect.” Baekhyun’s shoulders arch, a tremor rippling down his spine as your walls constrict around him, squeezing so tightly he almost loses himself then and there. But he manages to hold back, bracing a hand on your hip as he pushes himself up right.

“Baek, please.”

There’s no need for elaboration. He knows exactly what you’re asking for. And hell, he’s more than happy to provide.

The first thrust of his hips has your back arching off of the mattress, mouth opening in silent bliss. The pace he sets is punishing, fast and deep and rough. His blunt nails dig harshly into the flesh of your hips, but you relish in it, pain and pleasure coming together to create the perfect cocktail. The lingering sensitivity from your two previous orgasms only serves to heighten the ecstasy that you're experiencing. And with Chanyeol pressed against your side, large, calloused hands and gentle lips making sure each and every inch of you is receiving attention, it doesn’t take long at all before you feel that coil in your stomach tightening.

“I’m not gonna last.” You moan weakly, clinging to Chanyeol like he’s your one and only lifeline.

“Fuck, come on, beautiful. Be a good girl and come on my cock.” Baekhyun growls, snapping his hips roughly into yours. You cry out desperately when Chanyeol trails a hand down your body, circling a careful finger around your clit.

“Oh god, please. Please, Yeol. Harder. Baek— fuck, please.” You’re on the verge of tears, muscles shuddering violently as the white hot pleasure pulses through your veins.

“Who are you begging, sweetheart?” Baekhyun grins down at you devilishly, licking at his teeth as his eyes glow with something dangerous and powerful. Your stomach whirls, and you nearly headbutt Chanyeol when your body lurches, entirely overwhelmed. It’s so much— too much— but, somehow, not enough.

Your legs squeeze around Baekhyun’s hips, heels pressing into the swells of his ass, urging him deeper as you implore him wordlessly for more. You want everything, however selfish that may sound. You want it all. Every last piece of him.

This time around, you’re more than grateful that he can read you so well.

Simultaneously, the two boys fiercen their ministrations: Baekhyun, fucking himself into you so hard that the headboard is slamming into the wall; Chanyeol, applying enough pressure to your sensitive clit that your sanity nearly flies out the window. Within seconds, entangled in the staggering heat of their bodies, you come undone.

Damn. Baekhyun wasn’t kidding about showing you the galaxy.

Never in your life have you experienced an orgasm like this. One that tears through your very being like a raging tsunami. You feel it rippling through every cell, igniting every nerve ending in fiery ecstasy.

Baekhyun is barely able to hold himself together as you unravel beneath him, his entire body trembling and sweating with the effort of fighting back his own high, which is threatening to break over him at any given second. The mere sight of you is almost enough to do him in, but he wants to make sure to ride you through yours before he allows himself even a taste of his own. Harder said than done when you look so good and feel ever better, clenching and pulsing around him and god he’s about to lose his fucking mind.

He’s panting and groaning, rolling his hips deeply into yours, keeping himself teetering dangerously on that edge. But it’s you, your voice whimpering his name, your fluttering, teary eyes barely able to keep themselves open looking up at him, that finally breaks him. He bucks into you sharply, hips spluttering, body shaking as he spills himself. It’s sudden and it’s messy and it’s the most goddamn beautiful thing you’ve ever witnessed.

The moment he’s finished, he collapses on top of you, completely out of breath and red in the face; thoroughly fucked out. But that doesn’t stop him from bathing you in whispered praises.

“You’re so amazing. You did so well. You’re so beautiful.”

His words warm your heart, which is just barely beginning to return to a more natural rhythm. They lick the wounds from the nights previous events, soothe the ache that was long forgotten in the thralls of your best friends’ soothing touch.

Baekhyun pulls out of you carefully, and you have to physically stop yourself from pouting at the emptiness and loss of the weight and warmth of his body as he rolls off of you, flopping onto the mattress at your side with a huff of hazy laughter.

“Holy shit,” he murmurs, a dopey smile plastered across his face as he tosses an arm over his eyes, “that was amazing.”

“So fucking amazing.” You emphasize, trying uselessly to catch your breath.

It’s only when you feel something nudging at your opposite hip that you're able to refocus your bleary mind on the unfinished task. You turn, finding the adorable scrunched face of Chanyeol, cheeks red, eyes wanting.

The younger boy chews on his lower lip, swallowing a groan. He’s trying his best not to come off as too desperate, but you see right through him. You see how hard he is, veins thick and throbbing beneath the angry red skin, his flushed tip weeping with precum. Honestly, you’re surprised he hasn’t touched himself yet. It looks like it hurts.

Licking your lips, you can’t help but to wonder what he might taste like, how he’d feel against your tongue, the kinds of sounds he’d make when his body was overwhelmed with pleasure. You bet he’s loud when he comes. Fuck, that deep, raspy voice would sound so good moaning your name.

… perhaps you are feeling just a little greedy.

“Yeol,” he snaps to attention at the wispy call of his name, inhaling sharply when your fingers graze his thigh, “come here.”

He blinks in confusion, not understanding what you want him to do. Recognizing the lost puppy dog look, you chuckle before elaborating in far more blunt terms to avoid further misunderstanding;

“I want you to fuck my mouth.”

If he were to open his eyes any wider, you were certain they’d fall straight out of his head. “I– I can’t– you just—” he stutters clumsily, shaking his head, but you can feel his body practically trembling in excitement at the implication of your words.

“Please. You’ve been so good for me. I wanna make you feel good, too, baby.” You coo, tugging at his knee once more before leaning up to graze your lips over the shell of his flushed ear. “Let me make you feel good, Yeolie.”

He shivers violently, a strangled moan breaking from his swollen mouth, and you smirk to yourself, knowing you’ve got him. He seems nervous as he pushes himself up and crawls to kneel next to your head before hesitating, blinking as he tries to figure the right way to position himself.

He’s cute when he’s concentrating.

“Like this—” you chime in. Chanyeol gasps and flushes a deep red when you guide him forward until his knees are on either side of your head, his hard length swinging proudly above your nose.

Reaching up, you take his large hands in yours, interlacing your fingers. “If I tap on the back of your hand—” you demonstrate, “it means stop, okay? You have to stop immediately when I do that because I won’t be able to speak.”

He nods, expression serious, “I understand. I’ll stop if you tap on my hand.”

“Good,” you pause, a gentle smile upturning the corners of your mouth, “I trust you.”

His breath hitches. “Thank you.”

Instead of responding, you tip your chin up and trace your tongue over the underside of his cock. His hips stutter forward, a surprised moan escaping him at the unexpected contact.

“Stop teasing and feed her your cock, Chanyeol. Can’t you see how bad she wants it?” Baekhyun chuckles mockingly, sliding a lithe hand around your jaw and squeezing, forcing your mouth open even wider. Chanyeol looks down at you through blown pupils, chest heaving, lust practically radiating from his every pore. But it’s only when you offer a nod of reassurance and a look that you hope gives of even the faintest of glimpses into your immense desire for this, for him, does he finally move.

With a tenderness only Park Chanyeol could possess in a position such as this, he guides himself between your awaiting lips. You moan unabashedly as the bittersweet taste of him hits your tongue, tipping your chin up to make more of him in. A shuddering moan pulses from his chest, pitched and broken on red bitten lips. The sound is somehow even more beautiful than you imagined.

Languidly, you swirl your tongue around his weeping tip, eliciting a strained whisper of your name as the grip he has on your hands tightens substantially. He offers a slow, shallow thrust, his head dropping forward as his length slides deeper into the warm cavern of your mouth. The pressure of your tongue against the underside of his cock and the heavy reverberations of your soft, encouraging moans invigorate him to set a careful rhythm, hips stroking gently forward.

Your knuckles dig into the messy sheets as he pivots his weight forward, and you quickly relax your jaw when you feel him inching closer to your throat with every thrust. Chanyeol is even more considerate than you thought he’d be, pulling out far enough between steady strokes that you can swallow lungfuls of oxygen before sliding smoothly back in, deeper and deeper each time. Tears pool in the corners of your eyes, mouth straining in order to accommodate his impressive girth. But hell, it’s worth it. Totally worth it.

His breathing became harsh and labored, filling his lungs with sharp, ragged inhales that shudder through the deep cavity of his chest. “F– fuck, y/n,” he groans hoarsely, head dipping as his eyes squeeze shut, “your mouth is— s- so good.”

Your core tightens around nothing at the rasping whimper, the faint caress of his warm breath rousing goosebumps across the damp skin of your belly. The subconscious clenching of your thighs is wholly unintentional, but it does not go unnoticed.

Chanyeol lets out a choked gasp as a hand slides into his hair, his upper body suddenly forced downwards.

“Come on, Yeolie,” Baekhyun coos tauntingly in his ear, “you were the one going on and on about balance. So why don’t you provide some… ‘give and take’, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he barely whispers, but you still feel a rush of hot breath over your core and moan throatily around his cock. He tenses and shudders in response to the delicious rush of vibrations, tightening his grip on your hands as Baekhyun guides him lower.

Honestly, you aren’t sure at first if you have another one in you. Three orgasms in one night was unimaginable before tonight. Four seemed simply unrealistic. Your poor pussy is still pulsing and trembling from the last. But the moment Chanyeol flicks his tongue over your clit, the most delicate of kitten licks, you know that you do.

This time though, it’s like molten metal boiling in the pit of your stomach, a wholly unfamiliar sensation. Each press of his lips and roll of his tongue fans the fire blazing through your veins. You try your best to keep up, hollowing your cheeks and swirling your tongue, but it’s difficult when it feels like your brain is short circuiting. The pleasure is fiercer, more intense, rolling over you in thick, devastating waves. You’re reduced to little more a moaning, writhing mess beneath him, barely able to keep yourself from choking on his cock.

Chanyeol’s hips buck frantically as your throat constricts, his own ministrations getting rougher and sloppier the closer he gets. You feel his teeth against your clit, then two long fingers slipping through your slicks folds and fucking themselves into your pussy. Baekhyun can only groan hotly at how easily you take his digits, squeezing his opposite hand around the base of his hard dick.

“I’m gonna come,” Chanyeol whimpers hurriedly, “oh fuck I’m gonna come.”

Suddenly, his hips pulse and your bottom lip make contact with the flat of his pelvis. It takes every ounce of control you have over your body to push back your gag reflex, but the way he trembles and breaks above you is undoubtedly worth the strain. A jumbled mess of words tumble from his lips as he comes, though only your name and a select few curses are intelligible between the deep, violent moans that burst from his chest.

Tears fall from the corners of your eyes as he fucks himself into your mouth, motions stuttered and sloppy. But you swallow around him eagerly as he fills your throat with his release, which only serves in prolonging his orgasm until he’s shivering and whining and hell— each sound, each tremble has the coil in your stomach squeezing tighter and tighter.

All the while, Baekhyun’s fingers are loyally exploring your silken walls until he once again discovers that small bundle of nerves that make your head spin. Combined with Chanyeol moaning and growling against your clit— you're a dead woman.

This final orgasm is the equivalent of having a bucket of ice water dumped over your head. Every hair on your body jumps to stand at attention, oxygen suddenly igniting into flames in your lungs. You scream around Chanyeol’s cock, back bowing off the mattress, eyes rolling to the back of your skull. It’s so intense you honestly feel like you might pass out. But it’s so good, too good —fuck, it’s the best you’ve ever had!— and you want to relish in every mind numbing moment.

All at once, Chanyeol is gone from between your lips and you gasp, a rush of cool air like a glass of ice water in the torrid desert flooding into your lungs and soothing the angry blaze.

“Holy shit.”

You’re too gone in the high to make out who the strained whisper had come from, or to notice the sudden substantial amount of wetness painting the insides of your thighs and seeping into the sheets below. Your brain feels thoroughly scrambled, effectively stupefied by the prodigious pleasure and you can do nothing but bask in it.

“Have you ever done that before?” It takes you a few extra seconds to realize that the question is directed at you.

“Hmm?” You hum blearily, not bothering to try and lift your head.

“Squirting,” Baekhyun clarifies, voice thick with wonder, “have you ever done that before?”

“Squirting? No, I’ve never—” your head snaps up, eyes bulging, “I squirted?!”

If the excessive arousal currently coating (and dripping from) Chanyeol’s astonished face and the unusually large wet spot staining the sheets is anything to go by, the answer is a clear yes.

Panic strikes your chest. “Oh my god. Oh my god, I- I am so—”

“Don’t apologize! Don’t you dare apologize.” Baekhyun abruptly cuts you off, splaying a hand over your belly. “That has to be the most— amazing thing I have ever seen. No girl has ever squirted on me before. I’m honestly honored.”

“Baekhyun, please.” You whine, pulling a pillow over your feverish face and snapping your legs shut.

“I’m serious!” He yelps indignantly, tugging the pillow away from you and tossing it to the side despite your noisy complaints. Two strong hands find either of your thighs and pry them apart in spite of your stubborn resistance, revealing the slippery mess you made on the sheets below.

Heat rushes up your neck as Chanyeol falls into position between them like it’s the most natural thing in the entire world and begins licking at your wet skin. The muscles of your thighs shake and tighten uncontrollably under the intimate ministrations, the post orgasm sensitivity extending beyond your core and into each of your limbs.

“Chan,” you whimper remorsefully, clenching your fingers in the duvet, “I can’t. I can’t.”

He smiles against your skin, licks turning into gentle kisses that make your heart flutter and melt in ways it definitely should not in response to your best friend’s big, sweet eyes. Then again— this entire situation is remarkably unconventional in regards to a typical friendship. Not that you’re complaining because really, how could you? Four orgasms? In one night? Unheard of. A part of you wonders if they were actually just trying to kill you.

While Chanyeol bathes you in his limitless affection, Baekhyun vanishes from your side and into the attached bathroom, returning only moments later with a towel saturated with hot water. You hum gratefully as he carefully scrubs away the sheen of sweat and sticky arousal clinging to your skin. And he’s considerate, too? Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable.

“You guys are going to ruin all other men for me, fucking hell.” You huff out a hoarse chuckle. Chanyeol suddenly flops down beside you, nuzzling his face into the juncture of your shoulder.

“Who needs other men when you have us?” He rebukes, large hand finding yours and intertwining your fingers.

You can honestly find no reason to disagree.

“Guys,” Baekhyun chimes once finished scrubbing you down, “let’s move to Chanyeol’s room. I need to throw these sheets in the washer before they get crusty. Made that mistake once. Never again.”

“I would totally do that but I’m pretty sure my legs are numb.”

“Ain’t no thang, pretty lady. I’ve got you.” Chanyeol chirps gallantly, slipping his arms beneath your legs and back. Before you can make any kind of protest, you’re being swooped off the bed and pressed into a warm chest. Shrieks of laughter peel from your lips as the gentle giant spins, and you throw your arms around his neck just for extra precaution.

“Yeolie,” Baekhyun whines mockingly, stomping his foot childishly as he plasters an exaggerated pout across his face, “you never pick me up and twirl me around like a pretty princess.”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” you tease, extending a leg and pressing your toes against his chest, “only room for one pretty princess in this apartment.”

“Oh, okay. I see how it is.” He scoffs as he stumbles back and falls dramatically back onto the mattress, hand splayed over his heart like you had somehow managed to wound him.

“Speaking of washing,” Chanyeol chirps, glancing down at you, “How does a warm bath sound?”

“Like heaven.” You groan. “Baek, feel free to join us after you're done doing your laundry.” You shoot him a mirthful grin as Chanyeol pivots and carries you out of the room that bears the musky, filthy scent of sex.

“Wait you’re just gonna— but I—“ Baekhyun wavers, looking between your retreating figures and his stupid dirty sheets before letting out a groan of frustration and scurrying after you. “Fuck it. I’m coming, I’m coming!”

“Is your bathtub big enough to fit three people?” You question, gaze landing on Baekhyun’s cute ass as he jogs ahead.

Chanyeol shrugs, humming thoughtfully. “We can squeeze.”

You smile, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“We can definitely squeeze.”

1K notes · View notes

thelittleboyfromloveactually · 3 years

Text

Surprise?

Benny Watts x reader

Promt: When Benny leaves for a work trip, you find yourself feeling sick. And after a trip to the doctors your relationship with Benny is tested, will the two of you continue and have a future together? Or will this “surprise” ruin you both forever?

Warnings: Cussing, throwing up, ANGST, fluff

authors note: Here it isss!!!! FINALLY! I’m so sorry for the delay! Also, ok so kinda off topic but i am going to write a series for an actor (actor masterlist), tell me who you guys want it to be for :) Enjoy the fic!

When you where 12 years old you fell in love with chess. You didn’t grow up rich so chess and reading books was your favorite way to pass the time. Chess was like a safe space for you, when your parents would fight, you would go into your room and play chess. You were amazing at it, you entered one tournament went you where 15 and you beat everyone there. But nothing much came of it, you couldn’t really afford to spend hours a day practicing and as you got older your life became more and more busy and complicated. When you were 14 years old your older brother died of a drug over dose and only 3 years later your mom died of stage 4 breast cancer. You and your dad weren’t close, infact once you where old enough to move out, you never really spoke to him again. He was a drunk and a abusive father. But now you were your own person, you were a reporter, a chess reporter.

On your first assignment you met Benny, Benny Watts. He was a charmer, he let you interview him and then the next day he caught you before you checked out of the hotel to ask to take you out sometime. That was 2 years ago. Now you lived with Benny, he wasn’t always the best boyfriend, but you knew he cared. Every once in a while he would buy you something nice or take you out to dinner. You often traveled with Benny to his tournaments, but lately you hadn’t been able too. You were up for a big promotion at work and you weren’t able to travel.

Currently Benny was sitting in the small living room playing a game of chess against himself. He didn’t know of your skill, and it didn’t bother you. Sometimes when he was away you would secretly play some games against yourself. Chess was Bennys thing, and you were ok with that. You were reading Emma by Jane Austen on the couch. It was one of your favorite novels. You flickered your eyes away from the pages to look at Benny, he was very focused on the game. You sighed, it was getting late and you still needed to start dinner.

“Hey Benny, what do you feel like for dinner? I’m kinda hungry” you said putting your book mark in and closing your book.

“Um I don’t care” he said blankly, not even looking away from the board

“Uh ok well how about som-“ you were cut off

“I said I didn’t care Y/N, you eat now I’ll snack on something later” he said firmly

You nodded not daring to say more. You stood up and started to chop some carrots when suddenly the phone rang.

“I’ll get it” you said drying your hands and walking over

“Hello?” You said

“Is this Benny Watts?” The man on the phone asked

“Um no this is his um, girlfriend, would you like me to get him for you?” You asked looking over at Benny

“Yes please, thank you” the man said

“Uh Benny it’s for you” he stood up and grabbed the phone from your hands, you went back to your cooking.

You didn’t really listen to the conversation they were having, probably some interview set up or something. You heard Benny put the phone down

“I have to get packing Y/N, I have to leave for a tournament tomorrow” he said headed toward his room

“Oh ok, do you need help?” You asked sweetly, you really wanted to ask why he found out so late but you didn’t want to bother him

“No” he said plainly, you nodded your head in response and continued on with your task at hand.

The next morning both you and Benny got up early, you wanted to say goodbye to him. You walked Benny to the door and handed him his bags. He kissed you on the cheek

“I’ll be back soon, love you” he said turning to the cab behind him

“Love you too, Benny” you smiled

He got in the cab and drove off.

The rest of your day was mostly just catching up on work. It was Sunday so you didn’t actually have to go in.

You were sitting at the small table in your living room when suddenly you felt the need to throw up. You stood up and threw your hand over your mouth as you quickly ran to the bathroom. You made it just in time to barf your guts out into the toilet. You were there for about 5 minutes, hovering over the toilet throwing up when finally your stomach settled down a little. You growned and stood up, tapping your arms around to stomach and dragging yourself into your bed. Of course you had to get sick when Benny was going to be gone for a week. You sighed and crawled under the covers. It was only 3 minutes before you were sound asleep.

You woke up around 3 in the morning with a sudden need to throw up AGAIN. You ran to the toilet. Jesus why was wrong with you, you had a great immune system and hardly ever got even a cold. As you lay on the bathroom floor you wouldn’t help but think about all the possibilities. Then you realized something. When was the last time you had gotten your period?! You stood up and went to your purse to grab your planner. 7 weeks ago was the last time you saw the red drop of blood that you had drawn to mark the start of your period. You were 3 weeks late. 3 fucking weeks late, how did could I not have noticed this?! You thought to yourself, you quickly went over to the phone and called your friend, praying she was home. As the phone wrang you tried to thing of the last time you had had sex with Benny. You had been so busy and Benny was traveling that it was probably a month ago! You cursed under your breath when she didn’t pick up. You dialed the number of your doctor and waited patiently. You tried to calm yourself down, you needed to make an appointment, then you would know for sure. Then you heard a voice from the other side of the line.

“Hello? Doctor Peterson’s office, how can I help you?” The lady asked

“Oh hi! I’m uh I need to make an appointment, preferably tomorrow, to see Dr. Peterson?” You asked passing back in forth

“We have an opening at 8:30am if you are willing to come then?” She asked

“YES! Yes of course thank you! I will be there!” You said excitedly, or you were nervous, you could exactly tell. You gave her your information and thanked her again. You hung up and started to diale bennys hotel number, but you stopped yourself. He’s probably busy, and I may not even be pregnant, you thought. You sighed and went to sit on the couch, but what if I am, you thought.

Shit. In your hand were your official results, saying that you were in fact pregnant.

“I have great news hun! You're 7 weeks pregnant! Congratulations!!!” Your OB/GYN said

“Uh t-thank you” you weren’t sure why she was so excited, it’s not like you wanted to be pregnant

“Who’s the father?” Geez personal much

“Uh my boyfriend, Benny” you said taking the paper she held out to you

“Well I hope you two the best” she smiled

You folded the paper and put it in your bag and started the car. The entire way home you brain was clouded by one single thought. How where you going to tell Benny. You loved him with all your heart but would he be able to handle this. He barely spends time with you as it is, and with a young child? You would practically raise it by yourself. After a short car ride you arrived at your small house. That was another problem, did you have room for a baby? Could you afford a baby?

After hours of debating and throwing up you decided not to tell Benny just yet. You wanted him to be here in person when you tell him. You were scared and angry. You decided that you would give Benny a choice. All or nothing. You needed to be sure that he still cared for you more than chess and himself. That he too would be a present parent to your child. And if not, then your mother had a guest room and welcoming arms.

Today was the day. The day Benny would be told he was going to be a father. You had cleaned the house so he could come home and not stress. Not that cleaning ever stressed him out. You sat on the couch anxiously awaiting his arrival. Were you nervous? Yes, very. As much dread as you held in you, you also couldn’t help but feel a sense of curiosity, of suspense. You loved Benny and would never want to leave him. But you had to do what was best for you, best for the baby.

You were taken out of your thoughts when the door opened, Benny stepping through it.

“Y/N? I’m home” he said, lucky for you he sounded pretty cheery. It was quite obvious he had won. By now it was almost a guarantee. He put his luggage down and looked around for you, and he smiled when he laid his eyes on you. “Hey” he said walking over to wrap his arms around you

“Hi Benny” you said smiling sweetly, he gave you a quick peck on the lips before letting go of you and heading to sit by his chess board. Of course.

“The guys almost beat me, I’m gonna run the game. He was smart but I was smarter.” Benny said taking off his coat

“I’m actually Benny, there is something I need to tell you” you said now fidgeting with you fingers

“Can it wait Y/N? This is really important” he said already replaying the game

You sighed, “actually it can’t wait Benny, what I have to tell you is really important” you said mimicking him

“Fine but make it quite ok? I’ve got games to go over and my coffee is wearing off” he said turning to you

You were getting angry at how rude he was suddenly, “do you love me?” You asked

Bennys eyes widened, surprised by your sudden question, “of course I love you Y/N” he said

“Well sometimes Benny….sometimes it doesn’t seem like it. You hardly touch me anymore. You never leave the chess board! You are so...so distant! Benny I love you so much! But I wish I could have that love in return. You love the game! I get it! I did once too! But the game doesn't love you! Sure maybe it favors you, but it’s a game Benny! A game! Not a person! Not a baby who needs attention! Don’t get me wrong I love seeing you pursue your dreams so much! It makes me so happy! But it doesn't seem like a dream anymore Benny, it seems like an addiction.” You paused trying to catch your breath and calm yourself down, Bennys face was still. “Benny I’m pregnant, with your kid. And I love you so much, but I can’t raise this kid by myself, it needs its dad to be there, I need its dad to be there. You need to choose Benny, no more halfway in, you're in or you're out. I need to do what’s going to be best for the baby, I hope you can too” you left it at that, heading toward the door and leaving the house. Leaving Benny. Not forever, but leaving him to think about all that you said.

Bennys POV

I stood there. I heard the door shut. What just happened? Did she say she was pregnant? Shit. I was confused to say the least. I never thought be being a great chess player bothered Y/N. Fuck what have I done? I can give up chess. But then again, I can’t give up Y/N. I guess maybe I’m not the best boyfriend, but I need her. She keeps me as close to sane as I can be. I don’t know what I would do without her. I plopped down on the couch and ran my fingers through my hair. I messed up. I should have been there. I know it should have. Dammit. As much as I hate it Y/N was right. Of course she was, she always is. I love chess but I am addicted to winning. And that makes me distant and rude. Fuuuuuck. I grabbed my hat and ran toward the door. I knew where Y/N was going. She always went there when we fought. She was going to where I took her on our first date.

Normal POV

The string lights shone above your head as you walked through the park. Your cheeks were wet from tears. You loved the park at night. It was so….peaceful. The lights allowed you to still see the gorgeous garden flowers that were planted everywhere. The first time you ever kissed Benny was here, in this park. You had gone to this park for a picnic. He had set up flowers, treats and surprisingly very good food that Benny supposedly made. You ate and talked for hours until it got dark. After you put the food away you took a stroll in the park which ended at a bench, the beach under the cherry tree. It bloomed every spring and it was gorgeous. The two of you had sat down on the bench, Benny grabbed your hand and smiled at you, and two seconds later, your lips were connected. Moving in perfect sync. That was then. Now you sat on the bench crying, hoping that Benny would choose to be a dad for your child.

You sat on that bench for 10 minutes, contemplating your life desisions when suddenly you heard foot steps behind you. You turned your head slightly to see Benny walking over, holding his hat in his hand.

You sighed in relief, but then to be out in stress avian when you realized he could be here to say goodbye.

“I’m sorry” he said moving to sit next to you

You tried not to look at him, you avoided eye contact.

“I’m really fucking sorry, Y/N” he said “I-I know I have been distracted and distant and rude and I am sorry. I love you, all of you, including this baby. It’s gonna take time ok? But your gotta let me try, I will make every thing right. I will ok? I promise. I love you Y/N, forever. When you left i realized how much I need you, I don’t think I can live without you. Your my home, my rock, my best friend and the love of my life. I know It doesn’t always seem like that but you are. I’m it good with love and stuff so give me some time to figure it out. But I will be here, I will help you raise this kid…..our kid. I’m all in, forever” he said putting his hand on top of mine. I looked up at him finally, and he turned his head to look at me. And then we kissed, just like our first kiss, but more needy, more passionate, full of love, guilt, and want.

“I love you too Benny” I said smiling

We both let out a laugh and our lips connected again.

4 years later

“Daddy daddy look! I drew your chess board!!! And I can name all the pieces!” Hudson said

“That’s amazing buddy! Show me your skills!” Benny said as Hudson sat on his lap

“That’s a rook, that’s a knight, that’s a bishop, that’s a queen, and then the king, and then the bishop, knight and rook again!” He said pointing to each one

“Great job!!! Soon you're going to be a grandmaster!” Benny said kissing his forehead

You smiled as you watched your son, Hudson chess Watts, yes Benny decided on Chess as his middle name, and your husband smile and play together. You found it incredibly adorable that Benny was already teaching Hudson to play chess. Sometimes you even played. Benny looked up at you and smiled, you smiled back. Benny came around in the end, and is the best husband and father to Hudson that you could have asked for. You were happy with your life. So freaking happy. You had your boys. Who knew that such and unwanted surprise could bring such needed happiness.

#the queens gambit #benny watts x reader #benny watts #chess

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smol-and-grumpy · 3 years

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Legally Yours - Ch. 26

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester tops the list of hottest entrepreneurs 2020 and yet, there’s still something he wants but can’t have because, in order to get that, he would have to settle down and get married. She agrees too quickly because she wants to secure a more comfortable life for her and her daughter. Will she be able to help Dean get what he wants without losing herself in the fake story they spin up to deceive his father and the world?

Chapter Warnings: We’re still at the angst, because someone’s obviously still an idiot. We also might detect some jealousy.

WC: 4214

Beta’d by: @deanwanddamons <3

This series is complete on Patreon

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Five days later, she’s sitting in her kitchen, job application website open on her laptop while Bobby’s at work and Olivia’s at school.

The first night was hard on the girl. Olivia crawled into bed with her, spinning up tales that she missed her toys they left at Dean’s but she is sure that a part of the little girl’s heart is aching for Dean because hers is too.

Y/N hasn’t heard from him and it took everything in her not to shoot him a message and ask him how he’s doing. She’s fairly certain that if she would choose to go down that road, she’ll get weak and that’s against the new rule that she’s set up for herself in order to protect herself and her family.

Donna sent her a text when she arrived back at her old apartment, asking how her honeymoon was going and when Y/N told her that she’s back, Donna offered to come over. They sat around the tiny kitchen table with boxed wine between them, drinking and talking. Yeah, boxed wine. Over are the days of cheap bottles. Well, she reckons she could afford it with the money from the marriage contract but she’d rather not as she has a future to think about.

She didn’t sulk, didn’t allow herself to. She needed to be strong for Olivia and keep it all together. Her friend parted with a promise to help her find a man who she deserved. She only smiled. Couldn’t find it in her heart to say that she’s not looking for a man, that she thinks that Dean’s ruined her for all other men, that she’s most likely destined to be alone forever. At least she has Liv, and honestly, that’s all that counts. God, she’s so glad to have that little girl. She would have been broken beyond repair if it wasn't for Liv.

While she touches up her CV at the kitchen table where she poured her heart out to Donna the evening before, her phone starts to buzz next to her. Her heart jumps. She hates the buzz of her phone because she’ll always think that it could be Dean and when it’s not him, she will always feel so deflated. Somehow, she’s okay with the situation but a little part of her still hopes that he would change his mind and come back to her.

This time it’s no different when she looks at her phone. If anything, it’s even worse. Sam’s calling.

She debates on not picking up but decides that she has to because he’s probably calling about the annulment. It’s really the only thing left that keeps her tied to Dean on a contractual level, and after she signs that, it’s like the marriage never existed.

“Sam?”

“Yeah, uh, hi, Y/N,” The man can be heard on the other end. A little breath leaves him, and she can imagine that he’s smiling. Ever the friendly Sam. She can’t lie, she misses him too.

“You’re calling about the annulment?” She gets straight to the point. There’s really no point in stretching this out unnecessarily.

“Um, actually no. Dean’s not really talkative and he’s not going to sign it.”

“What do you mean he’s not going to sign it?” She doesn’t understand, has a hard time wrapping her head around it. Why did Dean still want to be married to her when she walked away from him? There’s no point in pretending anymore and she has made up her mind. The only way she’s going is forward and not back. She wants to move on.

“Don’t worry about it. He’s only been back two days, I need time to talk him through it. We should have the annulment finalized by Monday, I promise.”

“I trust you,” She says into the receiver, because she does. If someone can talk sense into Dean, it will probably be Sam. “How is he?”

“Do you want to hear the truth or do you want me to lie to make you feel better?”

“Lie.”

“He’s doing great.”

“That’s good.”

Sam snorts, “Well, I knew you'd feel better if you knew that he’s doing okay without you.”

“You’re right. I don’t want him to feel bad but somehow I also want him to, you understand?”

A burst of laughter rumbles on the other end, “I know,” Sam replies, “He’s a gigantic dick, Y/N. I think he knows that and he’s beating himself up for it. He’s been back at work for two days and according to Rowena, it’s hell. He doesn’t talk to anyone and if he opens his mouth, it’s to shout at people.”

“Wow, he’s coping well.”

The man laughs again, “Dean’s never been good at taking rejections. He’ll get over it, eventually. Someday. Maybe. Well,” Sam pauses and exhales loudly, “Tell you the truth, I don’t think he’ll get over it. I’ve never seen him like this and it scares me, hence me calling you.”

Y/N feels sorry for him. And there she thought that she was miserable without him. Somehow it gives her a little satisfaction to know that he’s doing just as bad, if not worse. Can anyone blame her to feel like this?

“I’m not going to go back to him just so that he’ll stop being an ass to other people.”

“That’s not what I was going to ask you about.”

“Ah, why beat around the bush, Sam. What is it?”

Sam sighs, “Okay, as you might know, Dean hasn’t told anyone that you two broke up.”

“Why am I not surprised?” She hopes Sam can feel through the phone how hard she’s rolling her eyes right now.

“Shush,” Sam scolds and continues before she can say sorry for interrupting him, “He has a charity gala to attend tonight, and it would be great if you would accompany him.”

The bark of laughter that leaves her mouth is hard to hold back, “You what?”

Sam’s not laughing, “I mean it, Y/N. He’s not doing great and he has to attend. Technically you are still his wife and you have a contract, so..”

“Oh, please, don’t come at me with a contract, Sam. Dean told me that I’m allowed to walk away. He said that he doesn’t need me to get the shares. He wasn’t the one stopping me when I walked out on him, so tell me, why should I do this? Why should I pretend when I don’t have to anymore?”

“Because you still care about him,”

Sam’s answer is a hit to her heart. She does. She cares so fucking much but also, that means that she’s not going to give in because it’s time to put herself first. She can’t hold herself together for Olivia’s sake when there’s nobody backing her up. She won’t go through this again.

Of course Sam’s on Dean’s side. He’s friendly to her but if Sam would have to pick sides, it would always be Dean’s.

“I’m sorry,” She says, her voice shaking a little. No, she’s not going to cry. Not again. Not anymore.

“Okay,” Sam relents too easily, “Can’t blame me for trying.”

“No, I can’t. Dean’s lucky to have you as a friend.” She means it.

“I’ll come to see you as soon as Dean signs the papers, Y/N.”

“Thank you.”

“Take care of yourself and Olivia, okay? And tell me if you need anything.”

“I will, Sam. Thanks.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

She hangs up before she can say goodbye. The phone drops onto the table and she’s back to burying her face into her arms as she sobs.

For the next five weeks, Y/N tries to avoid looking at tabloids pages, instead, concentrating on Olivia and helping to ease the little girl back into her old environment.

Of course there have been texts from Donna telling her that there’s no news from Dean, at least not with another woman. She knows that she shouldn’t care about it, because if he wants to date again, it’s his right, but somehow, she can’t help but feel the pinpricks in her heart. It’s not something bad but something good because it keeps her hopes alive for a while. After she was reluctant to answer Donna's text about Dean in the first two weeks, her friend has decided that she doesn’t want to update Y/N anymore. Which is also fine with her. The less she’s reminded of Dean, the quicker it will be to get over him.

She snorts out a laugh at that thought. Yeah, right.

Bobby has been weird the last two weeks too. He went out to meetings, saying it has something to do with his union but she knows that he doesn’t even have a union so she really doesn’t have any explanation for the two to three times the man went AWOL when he should be home but again, it’s nothing that should worry her. Bobby is still young enough to have his own life. She guesses that it has to do with a new lady friend maybe. Maybe Bobby’s being cautious too, maybe he doesn’t want her and Olivia to know when things aren’t steady with the two. She couldn’t blame him for thinking like that.

Tonight is the first time in over a month that she feels comfortable enough to leave the security of her own home. Perhaps Donna has something to do with it, begging her to finally go out and face the world, and Y/N can’t lie that Donna’s not right. It’s time to face it like a grown-up. She can’t be buried in her four walls forever. She eventually has to go out and socialize. She’s been going out a lot for interviews but that’s about it. No company has called her back yet, though. Thankfully, she still has more than enough money to get by.

As soon as she arrives at The Roadhouse and Donna sees her, the woman is quick to be by her side, “I have a surprise for you!”

“Oh no,” Y/N rolls her eyes, “I hate surprises.”

“It’s not bad, I just thought, you know,”

“Donna,” She warns her friend. Somehow, she doesn’t like where this discussion is going.

“There’s this guy, I invited him. He’s nice, so be nice, okay? He’s not going to be the love of your life, I know that too but you should put yourself out there, just a drink, okay? It will broaden up your horizon, maybe get your ex-husband out of your mind for a little bit.”

Jesus, Donna’s talking a mile a minute. She barely understands what the woman is raving on about.

“What?”

“There,” Donna pulls her close, points a finger to the booth where Garth is sitting with someone whose back is turned to her.

“Oh, Donna, no!”

“Why, Donna yes!” The blonde exclaims cheerily before placing her hands on Y/N shoulders and pushing her towards the booth. “His name is Cubbie.”

“Cub-what?”

“It’s a nickname, Y/N.”

“If that’s the nickname I don’t wanna know about his real name.”

“Cuthbert. Cuthbert Sinclair, if you wanna know. He’s a magician.”

“That’s great. Super.” Y/N groans and turns around towards the exit but Donna’s hand is firm around her shoulders, guiding her back to where Garth is already standing up to make room for her.

“Hey, Cubbie! This is Y/N, the woman I talked to you about.” Donna’s all smiles and somehow, Y/N’s hand itches to hurt her friend.

“I’m Y/N,” She says then. The only way is forward now.

Cubbie, still what a fucking weird name, stands up and his hands immediately go to her arms and pulls her closer to press a wet kiss on her cheek.

Ew. Oh no, this won’t end well.

Reluctantly she sits down, wonders how long she has to sit here until she can get up and leave without being too rude.

She lets him buy her a drink and he orders fries to share between them while they talk. It’s not exactly bad but they just share small talk about the weather and where they’re from.

“So, you’re a magician?” She tries to sound like she’s interested, wanting to get into the deeper conversational territory.

“Yeah,” Cubbie reaches over and strokes her hair behind her ear and when he sits back up, he shows her the coin that he apparently pulled out of her, a bright smile dotes his face. She does her best to resist the urge to roll her eyes.

“Good god,” She exclaims and the man laughs.

He goes on to tell her about magic, which she again, has no interest in listening to. Jesus, the man can talk. While she debates on maybe hurting herself with a toothpick to have a fucking reason to get out, Cubbie excuses himself to go to the bathroom but before he goes, he leans down next to her, “How about we’re doing a little disappearing act, huh?”

“Oh god,” She huffs out but Cubbie doesn’t get her blatant disinterest. He just smiles at her.

“Think about it, I’ll be right back.”

Good riddance, is what she wants to say but doesn’t. Instead, she smiles a faux smile.

While he’s gone, she takes out her phone, shooting Bobby a text that she’ll probably won’t be that long when he feels someone is taking a seat in the booth opposite of her.

“Back alread—”

The word won’t come out because it’s not Cubbie who’s sitting across from her but Dean.

He has a cap on his head, is dressed casually in a black t-shirt underneath a blue plaid shirt. There are faint black circles under his eyes. He has shaved off his beard but from the length of the stubble, she can tell that he’s in the process of growing it out again.

“C’mon, Y/N, seriously? That guy?” He asks, sounding offended, and honestly, it’s not what she really wants the first thing out his mouth to be after not being on speaking terms for over a month.

“It’s none of your business, Dean.” She snaps at him.

“You’re right. It isn’t.” He agrees, “What is he? An accountant?”

“He has a name and he’s a magician.”

Dean barks out a laugh and even though it’s mean, she can’t help but smirk with him.

“His name is Cubbie.” She adds, which earns another hearty laugh from Dean.

“Cubbie the magician?” He cocks an eyebrow.

“I don’t know if he has a stage name,” Y/N shrugs, “He asked me if I wanna do a disappearing act with him.”

“Oh, he will disappear, alright,” Dean growls angrily.

She can’t read him. Why is he here, why is he crashing her blind date? So she asks, “Dean, what is this? Why are you here?”

“I’m here every week to see if you’ll be here.”

“You know that there are phones, right?”

“Would you have answered the phone if I called?” He challenges her and she holds his gaze. He’s right, she probably wouldn’t, even if she was hoping that he’d call but she doesn’t think that she would have picked it up because she doesn’t know if her heart can take what he’s going to tell her over the phone. “Yeah, I thought so. How’s Olivia?”

“She’s good. She enjoys being back at school. She’s going on a field trip in two weeks and I think I’m going to go along to chaperone.”

Honestly, Y/N has no idea why she’s telling him that. Why she easily falls into a conversion with him about little things. But it feels easy, it feels like meeting an old friend. Someone where she can just pick up where they left off, even if they haven’t seen each other for a long time. Dean was her friend, she can’t deny that, and she guesses the reason why she feels at ease is that her heart can’t forget it either.

“I can do that, too,” Dean suggests without even thinking twice.

“Dean, she’s none of your concern, we’re fine without you.” Her words might be too harsh but he needs a reminder that not everything revolves around him.

“Great.” He mumbles as Cubbie comes back from the bathroom. The poor guy stands there and is a little irritated by Dean’s presence.

“You ready to leave?” Cubbie asks, straight up ignoring Dean’s presence and she has to give him that. It takes balls. Dean’s not someone who can be ignored. He’s tall and broad and yeah, awfully good looking.

She stands up, nodding her head. Even if she has no intention of going anywhere with Cubbie, she also knows that she can’t stay here with Dean.

When she walks away, Dean holds her back by her wrist. The touch of him is almost too much to bear and she stills, has to close her eyes as she tries to breathe evenly.

“You’re leaving with him? Seriously?”

Opening her eyes to look at the source of the voice, she can clearly see the irritation on Dean’s face.

Pulling her hand from his hold, she brings it close to her chest, fearing that she’d reach out if she let her heart decide over her mind, “It’s none of your business, Dean. You had your chance but you blew it. I’m trying to move on.”

Dean stands up too and he’s close. The warmth radiates from him. Her body betrays her a little, sways a little closer to him. Cubbie is a couple of steps ahead but he stalls and looks back, waiting for her to follow him out. She wants to, she really does, it’s just so hard to move when the magnetic pull of Dean wraps itself around her.

“Now, say it again a little more convincingly. Make me believe it.” Dean demands with a gruff voice while he crosses his arms over his chest, his palms nearly disappearing into his armpits, as if he too, has to resist reaching out to touch her again when it’s not what she wants.

How is it possible that he still can read her like a book? It’s not fucking fair.

She narrows her eyes, staring him down. “You’re an ass, Dean.” She hisses and pushes out of the door, past Cubbie. When she’s out, she flags down a cab and gets in. Only when the driver rounds the street of the first block does she realize that she left Cubbie at the bar. Great. Now the act with her leaving the bar with some date is even less convincing to Dean.

God, she’s a failure.

“You know he still cares deeply about you, right?” Donna flops down on Y/N’s worn out couch with a bottle of beer in hand and Y/N walks over to join her friend with her glass of red wine.

The incident at the bar in which Dean had held a metaphorical pissing competition against an oblivious Cubbie was four days ago. Almost a distant memory. She hasn’t heard from the magician, but also it’s not really surprising since they didn’t even exchange their numbers and Donna has not mentioned him again. At least there’s that.

She frowns for a moment, “Cubbie? He barely knows me.”

Her friend rolls her eyes to the back and takes a pull at the bottle, “Dean, dummy!”

“Yeah, well, he has a hell of a way of showing it.” She grumbles, burying her face into her goblet and tips it back to take a big gulp.

Donna admitted after the incident that she watched them with amusement. Poor Cubbie was standing there lost and sulked away on his own. Apparently, Dean grinned brightly, and god, just the image of him being so joyful and cocky about her misery makes her want to smack him across the face. But for that, she would have to see him again, which she won’t. Nope. Not going there. She can’t move on when he keeps popping up.

“You don’t see it, do you?” Donna tilts her head that’s resting on the back of the old faded sofa, cocking her eyebrow as she asks.

“See what?” Y/N eyebrows match her friend’s.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N!” Donna huffs out, followed by a giggle. Okay, the woman should definitely not drink any more beer, also since tomorrow is Monday and she has to work. Y/N for her part, is still struggling with finding a job that would keep her head above water. She’s debating on taking two lesser paid jobs but then again, there would be no time left to spend with Liv and since she’s making Liv her priority, she keeps on searching. The blonde lays her hand on Y/N’s thigh, squeezes it, “He’s so fucking in love.”

With knitted eyebrows, she glares at her friend. Dean? In love? Has that been obvious? She shakes her head, “That’s not what he told me,”

Her friend sits up straight and turns to her before taking a big swig of her beer and slams it onto the coffee table. Y/N gets irritated, shushes her friend with a nudge of her elbow. Liv is sleeping next door, and Donna usually knows that she has to be fucking quiet.

“Oops,” Donna says with a shrug, and they both freeze to listen if Liv has woken up because of the noise. When they don’t hear a sound, they both breathe out in relief. Yeah, there’s no chance Donna will get another beer from her tonight. The blonde grins at her. A grin that spells mischief, “Have you ever thought that Dean Winchester, a guy who’s never been in love might not know how it feels to be in love? Have you ever thought that he might be so fucking gone on you and tries to identify his feelings but he can’t because he doesn’t fucking knows what it is?”

God, Donna talks a mile a minute and Y/N’s brain is having trouble catching on and processing.

Her friend pauses to wriggle her eyebrows at her but otherwise, Donna doesn’t say anything because she waits until it settles.

Memories of the last day on the beach flashed in her mind. She recalls him asking her how she knows when you love someone and her answer was you just know.

Could it be that he was struggling then already? He probably was but she was too deep in her own mind that she didn’t really notice.

“No,” She answers.

“No, what?” Donna asks.

“No, I have never thought that he doesn’t know how it feels to be in love. But I mean, he’s loved his mother, right? He loves Sam to a certain extent. He’s a grown ass man. He should know how he fucking feels.”

“My god, your skull is thicker than I thought.” Donna rolls her eyes dramatically. “Loving a parent is not the same as loving a partner, duh! And with Sam. There’s the bro thing, I guess? They love each other but it’s just all caveman-esque grunting and a lot of back-slapping involved. It’s how I love you,”

“You love me while you grunt and slap my back?”

“Shut up!” Donna laughs, “Anyway, where was I...oh! Yes. Listen, Y/N, maybe you’ve been too harsh on him. I mean, yeah, of course, you have Liv to care about but don’t tell me that Liv was heartbroken when you brought her back to this place.”

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth in thought. When she snaps out of it, she tips her wine glass back and empties it in one go.

Her friend watches her, pauses to let the things she said sink in. God, she doesn’t know why Donna’s only talking about Dean now. It’s been what? Almost two months. Where was Donna when she needed that kinda talk at the beginning when she left Dean? Donna was always here, her mind says, you just didn’t want to burden anyone and you thought that you could manage everything on your own.

“Fact is, Y/N. I’ve never seen him like this. He barely goes out, even if he’s invited to events. The gossip sites avoid him because he became a grump while picking up fights with photographers, and don’t even get me started on the last TV appearance where he only gave short, snappish answers, making the stupidly hot interviewer very uncomfortable. A couple of months ago, he would have charmed the woman and they probably would have fucked when the producer yelled cut.”

“How do you know they didn’t?” She asks, and she doesn’t even know why she asks because the thought of him hooking up and going back to being his old self does make her feel a little uncomfortable and admittedly, jealous.

“Honestly? Maybe because the interviewer told a tabloid that she refuses to interview Dean again because he’s a dick.”

“Well, he is a dick, she’s right.” She says drily, and she’s standing behind her opinion, it’s just now that Donna has said all those things that it makes her really wonder if she’s been too harsh to Dean. Maybe he just needed more time to figure out what he was feeling. But again, it’s too late now, isn’t it?

Ch. 27

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

#legally yours #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #nathalie writes

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navegandoaciegas · 4 years

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Sunday Sinday

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader [Priest AU]

Warnings: priest!Bucky, explicit language, smut, very desecrating and blasphemous thoughts and actions, masturbation, corruption kink, sex in a public place, hair pulling. Both parties are consenting adults.

Summary: Father James preaches at Mass, and you think there’s no better time to sin than Sundays.

A/N: Yesterday (9/9) was my 21st birthday and I’m posting filth to celebrate it. @whateveriwant and I share one horny braincell and we had the same idea, so here it is bb.

Wide shoulders straining his black cassock, long chestnut hair pulled back, errant strands framing his chiselled face, thick rimmed glasses perched on top of his nose, Father James should be the depiction of all that’s holy, image and likeness of God himself, and instead he’s temptation in the flesh, and all you can think about as you do the sign of the cross and sit in the back pew is how much you want to do wrong with him.

“I confess to Almighty God and to you, my brothers and sisters, that I have sinned through my own fault in my thoughts and in my words, in what I have done and what I have failed to do.”

His soft voice fills the room, subtle blush on his cheeks, the memory of all your shared sins in the fleeting looks he sends your way. His impure fantasies of you on your knees, your pretty lips around his cock, you taking his virginity of the altar, fucking under the cross, in the confessional, the filthy whispers in your ears, words he never imagined would come out of his mouth, the taste of you lingering on his tongue. He never stood a chance against temptation, not if you’re the one luring him straight to Hell.

You tune out of his sermon, merely standing, sitting, and kneeling as you see the others do: there’s the column he stood against as you sucked him off, the bench he bent you over and spanked you for the first time, the backdoor where the cleaning lady almost caught you.

“We listen to a reading from the New Testament.” he announces, clears his throat, adjusts his glasses, and opens the Holy Bible, fingers scanning over the verses he knows by heart.

There’s guilt in preaching what he doesn’t practice, but there’s also that exhilarating feeling of omnipotence that comes with being in love, that rush of adrenaline of loving in secret and doing the impossible to not get caught whilst wishing you would be.

The devoted churchgoers sitting in the front rows are too absorbed to notice you, hanging onto every word he recites, and the rest of the benches are empty, the saints and cherubs on the walls and Jesus on the cross your only witnesses as you quickly slip out of your panties and spread your legs, waiting for him to notice you, a teasing smile finding its way on your lips.

“If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we-”

He looks up from the pages, and his eyes meet you, or more likely what’s between your legs. He stutters, John or Matthew’s verses escaping his mind, “If we- we, uh, confess, we confess, yes, our sins- uh.”

Silence. Awkward, tense silence.

The white collar around his neck is suddenly too stiff and suffocating. Father James is like a deer caught in the headlights, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as his eyes flit around the room. The blush on his cheeks betrays his sinful thoughts, and he can only hope, as he gapes in front of his audience, that they won’t notice the tent in his cassock, the sweat on his forehead, his heaving chest and the light fog forming in his glasses.

Whispers arise, ‘is Father James alright?’, the good, righteous churchgoers ask among themselves, concerned about their beloved priest.

“As I was saying.” he clears his throat after a strangled apology, his fingertips finding the verse he was reading again, “If we say we have not sinned-”

His voice is a low buzz as he resumes his sermon, tension clear in his taut muscles and dry mouth; memories of all the times he’s taken you on these wooden benches invade your minds. All the times you’ve choked him with the cross around his neck, all those he’s spent on his knees, worshipping you like a goddess.

His pure soul you’ve tarnished with yours, the filthy words that sound so right on his holy mouth, his heady taste on your tongue when you swallow him whole, your wish to ruin him.

Your walls throb, arousal pooling at your entrance and rubbing on the fabric of your skirt as you grind your core on the bench, desperate for some sort of release.

He raises the chalice. “...It will be shed for you and for all so that sins may be forgiven. Do this in memory of me.”

You were never one for good decisions, especially not when your brain is as fogged as his glasses. And there’s no better day to sin than Sunday, afterall.

You slip a finger inside your glistening folds, looking at him through lidded eyes, wishing he would be fucking you against the altar instead. Father James’ eyes go wide as saucers when he catches sight of you playing with your dripping pussy under your skirt, and he chokes on his wine, sputtering and coughing.

You close your legs and bite your lips when someone walks up to him and pats his back to help him through his fit. He glares at you, and you stifle a laugh, the scene too comical to keep quiet.

“Forgive me.” he stutters to the small crowd, worry evident in their eyes, “It went down the wrong way.” he tries to ease the tension , “We can begin the communion rite now, if I don’t choke before.” and earns himself a collective chuckle.

The walk from the back to the front of the church seems endless. Thighs rubbing together and against your folds, a light breeze from an open door blows up your skirt just slightly, but enough that if someone were to pay attention, they’d see you’re not wearing any panties.

You’re the last of the line, and by the time you get to him, the rest of the people are kneeling, their head bowed, oblivious to the tension between their good priest and the new girl in town.

“The Body of Christ.”

It’s a whisper, soft and intimate, meant for you and only you, the blue of his eyes swallowed by darkness when you part you lips wide open and stick your tongue out, a sight he’s seen countless times before, when you’re on your knees begging him to fuck your mouth. Air stills when your tongue brushes against his trembling fingertips, a shiver running down his spine, a groan almost escaping him because of what that damn tongue is capable of. Eyes locked together as you slowly chew, his gaze following the lump of your throat as you swallow.

“Amen.”

It’s lust, it’s sin, it’s wrong but it sure feels right.

He watches your hips sway as you walk back to your seat, knowing your pussy is bare and wet for him beneath your skirt, and he can’t wait for mass to be over soon.

Incense is thick in the air, and a shiver runs down your spine when you feel his presence. A hand pulls your shirt and shoves you behind one of the columns to the sides where you usually wait for your sweet boy after mass. The marble is cold against your back, his hold like a vice on your flesh, and it stirs up something inside you. He’s never touched you like this, not your shy, doe eyed James, with his tentative kisses and trembling hands.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he whispers harshly, lips hovering over yours.

A gasp, you feign surprise. “Since when do you use that language? You kiss the cross with those lips?”

“You're a bad influence.” he chuckles, “Anyone could have seen.”

“But no one did.” you retort “And that’s the fun part, baby boy.”

His fingers will leave bruises behind, you muse, as you take in the fire in his eyes and his body towering over yours. Your recklessness, your attitude, your pretty face, his lack of restraint, the way he can never resist you, his body that acts on its own, the animal instinct that snaps inside him when his hips thrust against yours and his hard cock presses on your stomach.

“You wanted to get caught, didn’t you?”

Your tongue finds its way from his neck to the shell of his ears, leaving goosebumps behind, “Can you imagine the scandal?”

“You’re such a brat.” is his strangled response as his hips roll against you, pinning you to the wall. His breathing is ragged, his jaw clenched.

“I am a brat Father, do you think you can forgive me for that?” you purr, a hand sneaking between you and palming his aching cock through his cassock.

“I don’t know, angel.” he mumbles in your hair, a thick thigh coming between yours. “You need to repent, and then atone.”

“How can I do that, Father? I want it so, so bad.”

Your skin is scorching hot, your head dizzy as his smell clings to you and intoxicates you.

In a blur you find yourself spun around, the marble digging painfully in your cheeks, his hand groping your ass and kneading the flesh to the point that it hurts. A whimper escapes your mouth when he slowly grazes your things up to your aching core, and he cups your pussy with a possessive hold.

“You’re so wet, all for me?”

It’s a soft whisper, a stupid question maybe.

“Only for you.”

He peppers your neck with small kisses, nipping your delicate skin. Your walls flutter around nothing, you’re desperate to feel him inside you, his thick cock filling you like no else’s can.

Father James is not a patient man.

His fingers swirl around your swollen clit, and you’re pretty sure there’s slick running down your thighs. The pressure in your cunt is almost painful as you wait for him to lift his cassock and free himself.

“Tell me you’re mine.”

It’s a low vibration grunted in your ear as he strokes his length and lines himself with your entrance, his tip smearing your arousal around.

“I’m yours.”

He slams his cock inside you, and you mewl when he fully sheathes himself. He sets a low pace, taking his time to slide in and out of your, revelling in the way your walls grip him so tight.

“More.”

You’re not begging, you swear. You’re merely requesting. A command, really.

“You must say your penance first, sweetheart.” he taunts you, his wicked self coming out the more time he spends between your legs, and you find out you’re not so different after all. “An Act of Contrition, princess.”

You feel your pussy clench down on his cock, the coil getting tighter with each gentle stroke. Your mind is swirling, and you desperately cling onto the last rationality you’ve got left to remember your prayer.

“My God.” you snarl when his hand pulls your hair, and you arch your back, this new position allowing his tip to reach the sweet spot inside you, “My God, I’m sorry for my- my sins” you moan, “with all my heart.”

He fastens his pace, the depravity of this all edging him closer to his release with each sweet sound you make. “Are you really?”

“Yes, yes, oh my God. I’m sorry, in choosing to do wrong and failing to do good,” you pant, tears streaming down your face, your breaths ragged, “I have sinned against you, whom I should-.” You’re sobbing, your hands clutching his shoulders for dear life, the sound of his balls slapping against your pussy so lewd as it resonates in the empty walls.

“Just like that, don’t stop, please.” you mewl, feeling the knot in your core about to unravel, your vision getting spotty around the edges.

You pull on his collar and tug him down, biting his lips, your tongue tasting his, his plush lips against yours, his hand around your neck. A harsh snap of his hips, one last look at the crying angel above you, and you come on his cock, your pussy so tight around him that he follows shortly after, his cock swelling inside you and filling you to the brim with his cum. Your limbs jerk uncontrollably, your eyes roll to the back of your head.

His hot breath fans over your neck, strong arms holding you flush against his chest. A soft kiss on your forehead, a gentle smile on his lips, your heartbeat frantic, and not because of the orgasm that just wrecked you.

“Am I forgiven, Father?”

The rumble in his chest as he snickers warms your heart more than it should.

“You didn’t finish your prayers, princess. Looks like we’re gonna have to do this all over again.”

God, you love Sundays.

If you’re interested in more Father James, check this out. This one shot is part of Innocent! priest Bucky x Reader. I hope you all enjoyed it, and if you did, please leave some feedback, I love reading your comments.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #priest!bucky #bucky barnes smut #marvel smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic

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avintagekiss24 · 4 years

Text

daddy’s girl > andy barber

|| pairing: andy barber x black!reader

|| word count: 4,458

|| warnings: DD/lg, age play, smut, sex, vaginal fingering, thigh riding, praise kink, language words

|| note: this is based on @honeychicanawrites incredible headcanon about being andy’s little and having to deal with neal flirting with you while at work. i hope this is okay... this is my first DD/lg fic, so I’ve been obsessing over getting the details right.. which i hope i did...

gifs are from google. if you made them, or if you know who did, let me know :)

You stand at the copier, biting down on your lip as you zone out while the loud machine runs. It beeps after a second of it being finished and you blink, grabbing your copies before you turn and sit your stack on the counter behind you. You grab the stapler and start separating the copied pages, stapling together a small packet before you move onto make a new one.

You jump and gasp when a hand slips up your skirt and drags along your thigh, “Andy, stop it.”

A broad chest is soon crushed to your back, two hands are around your middle, and two lips nip at your jaw before skimming upward to nibble on your earlobe, “I’m so glad you work with me, baby. I get to tease you all day.”

You click your teeth and roll your eyes playfully, pushing your back into him to try and get him to back away, “You want me to keep working for you, don’t you? We can’t get caught!”

“We won’t,” he whispers as his hands move up to cup your breasts, “Who’s gonna catch us?”

You turn to face him, your eyes wide, your mouth open as you try to speak but before you can, his lips are on yours. He kisses you hard and cups the back of your head with his large hand, pulling you closer (if that’s even possible). You moan, running your hands up his forearms and biceps until they rest on his shoulders. You accept his tongue into your mouth, letting it run along yours before he sucks on it softly. He pulls away from you, but not very far, just enough so that he can lick the inside of your mouth and your top lip.

“Tell daddy you like working with him.”

His voice is so deep, so firm, that it sends a shock right to your core. You feel yourself slipping into your little space at just the name tripping off of his tongue. Daddy. You love making your daddy happy, any time, and usually any place, but... You toss your eyes around and bite down into your lip, “Andy,” you whisper, starting to rock your foot back and forth to resist the urge.

“You’re right,” He groans, resting his forehead to yours, “You’re just so fucking cute.”

You giggle, throwing your arms around his neck, “Maybe we can take a long lunch,” you suggest, kissing his cheek, “You can buy me a happy meal.”

“Sounds like a deal, baby girl.” He chuckles, pulling you back in to kiss your forehead.

He starts to pull away, but you stop him, grabbing his wrist, “You can finger me now, though.” You shrug, “If you want.”

He raises his eyebrow as a smirk crosses his face, “Goddamn, I love you.” He says, slipping his hand around your waist. He pushes his large hand into your panties, his middle finger sliding between your lips to tease your slit.

You grip the lapels of his jacket and grip them in your hands as he forces your legs wider. He plays with you, flicking and rubbing his fingers over your clit until your dripping - which takes little, to no time at all. He teases your opening with his middle finger, then pushes three of his thick digits inside of you, making you squeal.

“Fuck,” you squeak, “Andy.”

He pumps his fingers hard, his palm slamming against your clit as he fucks you up against the supplies counter. He starts to nibble on your neck again, teeth and lips nipping and biting, sucking and licking as you drop your head to his shoulder. He gets a firm grip around your waist with his free arm as he curls his fingers inside of you, massaging your insides with the tips of his fingers.

You slam your eyes shut and bite down on his shoulder, his jacket still balled in your fists. You groan loudly, but Andy is quick to cover your mouth, “Shhh, shh, shh,” he coos into your ear, “Quiet, baby.”

He grabs your hair, pulling hard on the ends to tilt your head up towards his. He stares down at you, his warm breath washing over your face as his blue eyes pierce your brown ones. His tongue snakes out from behind his pink lips to lick your mouth, from your chin, all the way up to the tip of your nose slowly as he continues to pummel your tight, little pussy with his fingers.

You let your head go limp, your eyes close as your body rocks with his fingers - that pull forming in the pit of your stomach. Your body tightens and you hear him growl under his breath, he knows your close.

“God, you are so good,” he groans, “Come on, baby.”

You whine, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as you start to writhe as a warmth starts to spread through your veins and across your skin. Just a little more… a few more strokes and you’ll -

“Andy? You in here?”

You jump at the male voice coming from outside the room. You both snap your heads towards the door, “Yeah, I uh, we’ll be out in a second. Trying to get some paperwork ready.”

“Lynn wants to see us.”

“Okay,” Andy answers quickly, anger flashing through him, “Give me a minute, will you Neal?”

“She sounds irritated.” Neal continues from outside.

“Goddamn it!” Andy hisses, pulling his fingers out of you, “Fuckin’ asshole.” He pulls your skirt down, smoothing his hands along your hips to situate your clothing. He kisses you quickly before stuffing his fingers in his mouth, sucking them clean, “I’ll take care of you at lunch, promise.”

“Really?” You shriek, your eyes wide as they follow him to the door.

“It’s not me! It’s that fuckin’ prick -”

“Andy?” Neal knocks again.

“I’m coming! Jesus!”

Without another word, he pushes away from you and heads for the door. You spin around on your heels to face the wall and avoid Neal’s prying eyes as the door opens behind you. You staple some papers, trying to keep it together until the door closes again before you nearly collapse. You drop the stapler and rest your weight against the counter, dropping your head as you push out ragged breaths. Fucking Neal.

You know he did it on purpose. Lynn was just fine before he walked into her office just mere minutes ago. He’s been sniffing around your desk for weeks, slipping in little come on’s and pick up lines into your conversations, all of which you have brushed off and politely declined. He’s starting to get more aggressive - buying you lunch, walking you to the elevator at the end of the day, actively butting into you and Andy’s conversations. Andy has definitely taken notice. Their feud has intensified ten-fold since you’ve started working there to the point where you can feel the contempt between them.

Andy knows you’re all his. He knows there is nothing in this world that could ever tear you away from him - but that doesn’t stop him from getting jealous. Your stomach starts to twist at the thought of how angry he’ll be for the rest of the day, not being able to make you come. He’ll be brimming with anger, but what’s more, frustration. He’ll keep his eyes on you all day, making mental notes on every time you laugh too hard at one of Neal’s jokes, or get a little too close for his liking.

You don’t want your daddy mad.

You finish up with the packets, slowly, giving yourself some time to calm down and recalibrate before you push back out into the bullpen. You sit the stack of papers on his desk and start rearranging it slightly, putting various pens back into the small wire holder, straightening up file folders and loose papers, even grabbing a tissue to wipe away any excess dust on his computer monitor and keyboard before you exit. He likes order. That’ll make him feel better.

Your mind races as you move back to your desk, your thighs sticking together from the wetness still splashed on them. You sit, shaking the mouse to bring your computer back to life and cross your legs, squeezing them together tightly, sending another quick jolt through you. Hell, you should be the angry one. You’re the one whose orgasm was ruined. You’ll have to deal with this aching burn between your legs for the rest of the day, unable to procure any sort of release until you’re home with daddy.

If he isn’t too angry by then, that is.

Your stomach twists again. Lunch! That’s it, you’ll order his favorite lunch, that new little Japanese place. Then you two can go out to his car, drive around the block and have him obliterate your pussy while telling you how much he loves his baby girl in the backseat of that beautiful, expensive Audi. Yes. You grab your phone from your purse and scroll through your calls list, finding the number and tapping on it right when you see Andy, Neal, and Lynn emerge from her office.

Andy’s face is flushed red as he runs his hand through his hair angrily. Neal looks equally as annoyed - his hands in his pockets as he sucks on his teeth. You swallow hard as Andy walks past your desk, not even making the smallest attempt at any eye contact. Fuck. You mumble his order into the phone once the cashier answers and hang up quickly, glancing over your shoulder at Andy’s open door.

He’s slumped in his chair, his chin in his hand, his fingers crossed over his lips as he stares at his computer screen. You turn back to your computer and click on your IM’s, typing out a quick message.

We can skip the happy meal… I ordered lunch for you. That Japanese place you like.

Fine.

Your shoulders slump a little at the short response. Usually, you’d get a little emoji, or a thank you baby, never just fine. He’s mad. Goddamn Neal.

“Hey. I haven’t seen you all day.” Neal smiles as he moves towards your desk.

You take a breath and push it out through your nose before you swallow again, “I’ve been busy.”

“Yeah,” he says softly, tossing his eyes towards Andy’s office, “Barber keeps you plenty busy, huh?”

You nod, “He’s a busy man. He is the assistant district attorney after all.”

Neal cuts his eyes towards you once he registers your little dig. He smirks and sends his eyes towards the ceiling as he takes a breath. You uncross your legs and start tapping on your keyboard, hoping that he’ll catch the hint that you’re busy and leave you alone - but it backfires. You catch a whiff of yourself, your carnal scent from your still slick muscles, and cross your legs quickly again but it’s too late. You send your eyes to Neal as he squints his eyes and then quickly looks back down at you.

His brown eyes bounce back and forth between yours as a slow, sly smile spreads on his lips. He then glances back towards Andy. You sit back in your chair when he sits on the corner of your desk , unable to wipe the smile off of his face. You feel a pair of eyes on you, burning a hole in the back of your head and your stomach flips again.

Neal leans into you, sniffing the air, “That’s a wonderful scent,” he says loudly, as if he wants a certain someone to hear, “What is that?”

“Chanel no. 5.” You smile, not playing his little game.

He nods slowly, humming slightly, “It’s nice.”

You blink back at him, squinting slightly as your eyes bounce between his, “Thank you.” You respond flatly, leaning back up in your seat to grab your mouse again.

You sneak a glance up at him, blinking as you catch him staring back into Andy’s office. You turn your head, swallowing again as you glance back at Andy. He stares at Neal, an angry smirk on his face as he leans back in his chair. He blinks and shifts his eyes to you - the smirk dropping from his face as he twists back and forth slowly in his chair. Your lips part as you stare back at him, begging him with your wide eyes to not be mad - but he just turns his head and blinks back at his computer screen.

You turn back and face your computer. Fuck.

“Are you seeing anybody?”

Neal’s question makes your breath hitch in your throat. You feel those eyes on the back of your head again - feel your heart fall into the pit of your stomach, “N-no.” You answer softly, keeping your eyes firmly on your email.

Nobody knows about the two of you - nobody. You both agreed it was better that way so you could work directly underneath him. If Lynn finds out, she’ll reassign you, if not fire you all together.

“Really? A pretty little thing like you? Shit,” Neal smiles, glancing off in the distance, “Barber hasn’t tried to snap you up yet?”

You snap your head towards him, “Mr. Barber is a professional, and so am I, Mr. Logiudice.”

He throws his hands up, “I get it, I’m not implying that you aren’t. It’s just, you know, Andy has a type, that’s all.”

“What’s that?” You ask briskly, anger starting to bristle just underneath the surface.

He shrugs, “Brunettes,” he smiles again, looking you up and down, “Why don’t you have dinner with me sometime?” You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off, “You don’t work for me, there wouldn’t be any impropriety here.”

“I don’t think so, Neal. I’m just trying to focus on myself right now. Listen, Mr. Barber’s food is going to be here at any minute, so,” You stand, grabbing your purse, “I’m gonna go grab it.”

You move around the desk, tucking your clutch underneath your arm. Just as you pass by him, Neal reaches out and grabs your arm, stopping you. You turn to face him and watch as he drags his hand down your arm slowly, his fingertips caressing your soft skin as they move, “Just give me a call, hm? You have my number.”

You blink back at him, your mouth hanging open as your eyes bounce between him. You glance quickly over your shoulder but turn back just as fast, not even wanting to see the look on Andy’s face. You pull out of Neal’s grasp and take a step away from him before you hear a door slam behind you.

You turn, watching as Andy pushes past between you and Neal, brushing against him hard enough to make him stumble slightly, “What the fuck, Barber?” Neal growls.

“Mr. Barber?” You call, “Where are you-”

“I’m leaving for the day. Transfer my calls to my phone.” He doesn’t even turn around.

“But, you’re lunch, it’ll be-”

“I’ll get something on the way home.”

He turns the corner and is out of sight within seconds. You stand there, completely dumb founded, staring at the space where he once was. Neal shoves his hands back into his pockets and stands tall behind you, “Somebody is touchy today.”

You scoff, “You’re such a jerk, Neal.”

“I’m a jerk? What did I do?” he smiles, “I thought you said you were single.”

“I am.” You hiss, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Does he know that?”

You roll your eyes hard and scoff again, “Piss off, will you?”

“Oooh,” he chuckles, “Feisty.”

You stomp away from him angrily, your heels clicking against the marble floor. You feel Neal’s eyes on you until you disappear. You pull out your phone as you move towards the large front doors, pushing out into the warm Boston day. You tap on Andy’s name and bring it to your face, biting down into your lip as it rings and rings and rings.

You’ve reached Andy Barber. Leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you.

“Andy,” you whisper, “Daddy, please answer the phone. Don’t be mad at me.”

You tap the end call button and immediately call back, still getting his voicemail. You call a third time. It rings twice and then goes to voicemail. You call again - it goes straight to voicemail.

“Shit.” You whine, stomping your foot.

Tonight is not going to be fun.

----------

You pull into the driveway and park next to his Audi. Your stomach is in knots, you’ve been dreading this moment all day, but at the same time, you can’t wait to burst through the door and confess your love for him - get down on your knees if you have to. You just want him to know that no one could ever steal you away from him.

You move into the house through the back door, closing it softly behind you as you walk into the kitchen, “Daddy, I’m home.” You call.

You don’t get an answer in return. You can hear the TV playing in the living room, Eddie Murphy’s distinctive laugh filling your ears. You sit your purse on the table and start pulling at the bottom of your blouse, wrapping it around your fingers as you start to make your way into the living room. As soon as you spot him on the couch, his arms crossed over his chest, his mouth set in a hard line, his jaw tight, you drop your eyes to the floor and grab your fingers in your other hand, rubbing them hard.

You roll your ankle, pushing your foot over onto the side, rocking it back and forth as you start to fidget uncontrollably. You ring your fingers in your hand, bite your bottom lip, and blink nervously as you stare at the floor. He finally turns towards you, his eyes hard, his lips tight as he plays with your favorite pink bows in his hand.

“Come sit on Daddy’s lap.”

You bound towards him quickly. You stop just long enough to unzip your shoes, tossing them to the floor before you sit squarely in his lap, throwing your arms around his neck. He’s fuming, his face still red, his eyes dark, but he sweeps your straightened hair out of your face before he cups your cheeks, “He’s trying to take you away from me.” He whispers.

“No daddy,” you say quickly, your voice higher pitched and innocent as you start to regress further, your words slurring slightly, “I’m all yours, he’s not gonna steal me away.”

“You have his number?” He asks, squinting up at you as he recalls the conversation from earlier.

“No!” You exclaim, shaking your head vehemently, “Check my phone daddy, it’s not in there.”

His blue eyes bounce between yours, “Are you lying to me?”

You start to pout, poking your bottom lip out as you furrow your brow, “I don’t lie to daddy.”

“You better not. What does lying get you?”

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest, “A disappointed daddy.” You hate disappointing him.

“And?” He presses further.

“No tweats for a whole day.”

He nods, taking a deep breath before he pushes it out of his nose. You play with the hem of his shirt, casting your eyes away from his and down to your fingers, “Please don’t be mad at me, daddy.” You say softly.

He clicks his teeth after a few seconds, “I’m not mad at you, baby. It’s that fucking asshole, Neal. He just fuckin’,” his words trail off as he sends his eyes towards the windows, his entire body tensing beneath you, “Daddy’s sorry, baby.”

“It’s otay,” You whisper, “He’s not gonna steal me away, daddy. Pwomise.” You reassure him, throwing your arms around his neck to hug him, “I’m all yours, forever and ever.”

“No he’s not,” he says softly, rubbing your back, “He can fuck right off. You are all mine, little one.”

“All yours,” you nod slowly, grabbing the collar of his shirt and twisting it around your finger, “I love you, daddy. You’re the best daddy a girl could have.” You whisper, your eyes cast towards his lips, your voice soft and small.

He smiles softly at you, cupping your face in his large hands again, “And I love my baby. Turn around for daddy, hmm.”

You do as he says, turning in his lap to face the television. You bend your legs behind you, straddling him as he starts to play with your hair. You smile softly as you feel him slide his fingers against your scalp, pulling your hair into two separate sections. He starts to braid it slowly, a french braid that starts at your hairline. You wiggle your hips down onto his thigh, gripping his jeans in your hands.

You start to roll your hips, grinding down onto his thigh as he finishes the one braid, tying off the bottom with your favorite pink bow. You bite down into your bottom lip again and let your eyes flutter shut as you grind against him, moaning and grunting softly as you start to cop a feel against your swollen, sore clit.

He moves to the second section of hair as you let your head fall back on your neck , moaning loudly for the first time, “Look at you,” he says sweetly, twisting and turning his fingers as he braids your hair, “Such a good little girl. You gonna show me who you belong to? Is that it baby?”

You nod quickly as your hips quicken and you drag in a breath between your teeth. You ride his thigh quick and hard as he finishes the second braid. He skips his fingers up your back, one hand gripping your shoulder while the other slips around your side to grab your tits. You run your tongue over your teeth as you groan and reach up to grab his hand on your chest. He teases your nipple through your silk blouse, rolling it between his digits before he just rubs it with the pads of his fingers.

He sits up, crushing his chest to your back as he kisses a trail from the back of your neck up to your ear and grabs it between his teeth. Your hips start to move faster, pushing down harder against his firm thigh as you rock back and forth. He drops his hands to your hips, helping to guide you as his fingers press into your flesh. You start to whimper, throwing your head back as you push yourself closer and closer to a sweet, long overdue release.

“Ooh, daddy,” you pule, your eyes slammed shut as a fire burns in the pit of your stomach, “Daddy, I’m gonna come. You’re gonna make me come so hard, daddy.”

“That’s right, baby girl,” he coos, his breath thick with lust and desire, “You come for Daddy like the good little girl you are.”

He pinches the inside of your thigh as you grind against his jeans, slowly applying pressure until your orgasm blooms through your tense body. You scream out into the room as the waves crash over you, each one stronger than the last. Your hips thrash against his thigh as your clit contracts hard - almost painfully so. Before you know what’s happening, you’re suddenly laying on your back on the couch, your legs thrust open as Andy pushes your skirt up your hips.

He fumbles with the button of his jeans, popping it quickly before he unzips himself and pulls his hard cock free. He slaps his dick against your sticky flesh before he slams into you as your orgasms still rumbles through you. He pumps into you hard, making you squeal as each thrust pushes you up the couch. You start to rub your clit with your fingers, quick circles as your hips jump uncontrollably up into his as your synapses continue to fire.

Your daddy always fucks you so good when he’s angry - taking out all of the frustration with Neal on your perfect, pretty little pussy, “You are mine. This cunt is mine, you hear me?” He grunts.

“Yes, daddy!” You mewl, “All yours. I’ll always be your little girl.”

“That’s right. All mine. My little girl.”

He inhales sharply, hissing and grunting as he continues to pound his hips into yours, your hot, wet muscles gripping his cock tight. You start to come again as you rub your clit in hard, fast circles, your pussy squeezing down on him. He grunts one last time and suddenly you're all warm inside as he starts to spill into you. His cock jumps as long, hot ribbons of his spunk coat your insides.

He bucks into you with each spurt of his cock, until he’s milked dry and your second orgasm recedes back into the depths of you, “You are such a good little girl, baby,” he slurs, “Daddy’s best girl.”

He pulls you back up into his lap, staying buried deep inside of you, and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. You both pant loudly as you try and catch your breath - you close your eyes as you rub your face against the cotton of his t-shirt.

He rubs your back with both of his large hands as he soothes you, “You did so well for me, baby. You make daddy so happy.” You smile into his chest, “You know you’re safe with daddy, right? I’ll never let anybody take you away from me.”

“I know. Daddy loves me.”

“Daddy does love you.”

You smile wide, sending your big eyes up to his, “And I love my daddy.”

He kisses the top of your head, “You want your blankie?”

You nod slowly. He pulls you off of him and situates you on the couch, jogging up the stairs quickly to grab your favorite things. Within minutes, you are back on his lap and in his arms, his cock snuggled deep within your pussy, your body wrapped up in your favorite pink blankie with your small brown teddy bear in your hands. He leans back into the couch as he holds you to him, still running his hands up and down your back as the two of you settle into Beverly Hills Cop playing before you.

“Thirty more minutes and it’s bath time, okay? I’ll give you a treat before bed, and read you a story.”

“Go’dfish and apple juice?” You ask, smiling up at him.

He kisses your lips one, two, three times before he bops your nose, “Anything for my baby girl.”

You nuzzle back into his chest and let out a deep, content sigh. Nobody can ever steal you away from your Daddy. Ever.

#andy barber #andy barber smut #andy barber x black!reader #andy barder x reader #andy barber x you #defending jacob fanfiction #avintagekiss24

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wroteasongabouther · 3 years

Text

can’t stand to see you lonely: part 4

a/n: i seriously cannot thank you guys enough, and i apologies for taking a lot longer to post. but the love and kind words and support that you’ve given me has been just incredible and i could cry happy tears honestly. now, i hope u enjoy part 4 and all that it includes and pls remember to reblog and leave feedback if u did like it and share it with ur followers/friends ❤️ love u all!

and of course, as always, thank you to @arrogantstyles for beta reading 😘

word count: 16k

warnings: mentions of masturbation (right off the bat too ur welcome lol), cursing, consumption of alcohol (i swear they’re not drunks, just ‘tis the season ya know), and minor sexual content (!!!!!!finally!!!!!)

fic page // let’s chat // cstsyl playlist

Harry’s breathing is loud, echoing off the walls of his shower as he struggles to inhale and exhale slowly once more. He inhales deeply and lets his hand that was resting upon the wall in front of him drop back to his side. He huffs through his mouth, blowing away some drops of water that were dripping down his face, while the other hand releases the grasp he had on his cock. Harry didn’t intend to masturbate in the shower like some hormonal teenager; he didn’t plan to masturbate last night before he got under the covers, either. It’s all Y/N’s doing, he thinks, she was clouding his head more than usual. Harry couldn’t stop thinking about last night, the lingering stares, her small delicate hands lingering on his thigh or dancing over his rings.

“Jesus,” Harry’s voice is hoarse as he curses himself. He was this close to falling back into yet another spiral down the rabbit hole that was Y/N. Which would more than likely result in him playing with himself, again.

Bringing both his hands under the water, he gives them a quick rinse before turning to his shelf where his body wash is. He pumps a bit of the goat's milk and lavender infused soap into his hand and brings it to his chest, rubbing in circles till it begins to bubble on his skin. He works his way down to the mess between his thighs, gently cleaning himself up before rinsing off. Harry turns to face the wall again.Sighing, he cups his hands under the stream of warm water and splashes it onto the wall before he just brings his hand up to wipe away the remains of his little private solo session.

Once he’s all squeaky clean, Harry turns off the water and shakes his hair out a little before he’s opening the glass shower door and stepping out. He grabs his towel, drying himself off before wrapping it around his waist. A part of him will always want to grab a second towel to wrap up his hair, but it’s no longer the length that it’s needed. Sometimes he misses his long hair. Harry makes sure the fan is on before he leaves the bathroom and walks into his bedroom.

I wonder what Y/N is doing? He thinks as he reaches into his drawers for a pair of pants, some grey sweatpants, and then walks over to his closet to grab a dark blue crew neck jumper and a plain white shirt to wear underneath. Wonder what Y/N is wearing today, Harry daydreams as he lets his towel drop and steps into his pants, then into the sweatpants next. Suddenly Harry comes to realize what he’s doing, how utterly annoying he is by thinking about what Y/N is doing at any given moment. It’s something he’s caught himself doing before, actually. He inhales through his nose and shakes his head. Just relax, he thinks and then finishes getting dressed and pockets his cell phone that was sitting on his charger before he’s walking out to his living room.

As Harry’s preparing his coffee machine for his first cup of the day, his phone begins to vibrate. Fishing it out of his front pocket, he looks at the screen to see Mitch’s contact photo. Harry sets the baby blue mug he had grabbed into place for his coffee to brew and then swipes his finger across the screen to answer Mitch’s call.

“Hey,” Harry says, holding his phone between his ear and shoulder as he opens his bread box and grabs a loaf of twelve grain.

“Is she still in bed?” Mitch asks. Harry’s eyebrows crease at his friend's absurd question.

“What?” Harry questions. His focus is on unraveling the bag his bread was in, grabbing two slices, before twisting it back up and sticking it into the bread box. He shuts the bread box and walks the few steps to his left to his toaster, plopping the bread slices into it and pushing down the buttons to get his breakfast toasting.

“Is she still in bed?” Mitch repeats himself, this time taking a brief pause after each word to really get his words across. Harry just rolls his eyes at Mitch and takes his phone back into his hand. He catches sight of the digital clock on his oven and his face twists up in confusion suddenly.

“Have you gone to sleep yet?” Harry asks, puzzled by how it’s just past nine in the morning and Mitch is somehow awake enough to call him.

“No, but that’s besides the point here, H,” Mitch says, breezes over the fact he’s an absolute lunatic for not going to sleep yet. “You’re dodging my question, so therefore I’m going to assume she’s still in bed,” he resorts. Harry can tell by the sass in his voice that he’s still buzzing from whatever amount of alcohol he had after him and Y/N left the bar last night. Harry watches his coffee drip into the mug slowly and furrows his brows once again at his friends words.

“Who’s still in bed?” Harry asks. Mitch lets out a deep breath and Harry just knows he’s rolling his eyes too.

“Who do you think I mean, Harry? The queen of England? No, I mean Y/N. Obviously,” he grumbles into the phone. Harry grabs the handle of his mug now full of coffee and rolls his eyes again.

“Y/N and I didn’t sleep together last night, sorry to disappoint,” he chirps back at Mitch.

“Bullshit, you two were basically eye fucking last night, the sexual tension was insane,” Mitch states. While Mitch is talking, Harry blows on his coffee before taking a small sip. The black coffee is still hot on his tongue, but doesn’t burn it thankfully. Suddenly his two slices of toast pop up, he sets down his mug and opens his fridge to find his small container of margarine. As he’s opening a drawer to find a butter knife, he lets out a tiny sigh.

“Like I said last night,” Harry pauses to make sure Mitch is listening, “I’m letting things settle down for her and see how it plays out,” Harry explains, resting his phone between his ear and shoulder again in order to take out the toast and spread butter on both slices.

“And what you’re saying is it didn’t play out with her ending up in your bed last night? I’m shocked, really,” Mitch says, his voice sounding genuinely surprised to hear that Harry’s night didn’t end how he imagined it would.

Honestly, Harry imagined it the same way at some points last night too. Thinking about how Y/N was a bit of a touchy drunk, therefore did that mean that she would be looking for her rebound hookup? Harry didn’t want to be that though. There was too much potential between them and this connection they’ve made so quickly, that he didn’t want to ruin it with some drunk hookup. But, yes, he imagined it, cause he’d be an idiot not to - a hot girl smiling all night at him, how she would jut out her chest just slightly cause he figured she loved how his eyes wandered over her body at times; so of course he thought of how their night could have ended differently together. Hell, he masturbated while thinking about it, twice within the past twelve hours to be exact.

Plus, their time last night was more than the sexual tension that may or may not have happened. Harry’s stomach is fluttering around just thinking about the gitty smiles and sweet words from Y/N, and how well she clicked with his best mates too. And truthfully, he was happy with how the night ended - with them in their own beds. Because their time would come eventually, Harry would let things play out however Y/N needed it to and he would wait for the right moment to swoop in and give her what he hoped was the best kiss of her life. Big dreams, Styles, he thinks to himself.

“She didn’t even think you liked her,” Harry tells Mitch, causing him to let out a snort.

“You know how I am,” he dismisses Harry's comment, “but I don’t know man, she’s good for you,” Mitch adds in a soft voice. His words make another storm of butterflies to erupt in Harry’s stomach as he smiles. “I didn’t not like her, I just sat back and let the two of you laugh all night and eye fuck each other on occasion too,” Mitch explains a little too casually. Harry shakes his head and takes a bit of his toast.

“Go to sleep, Mitch,” Harry says after he chews some of his toast.

“Good idea,” he yawns. “Talk soon,” he says.

“Bye,” Harry responds, taking his phone away from his ear and hanging up the call.

Harry grabs his plate with his half eaten toast in one hand and his coffee in the other, bringing it to his small dining table that sat against the far wall of his kitchen. Sipping his coffee now, it’s not too hot and he can actually enjoy it between bites of his toast. During him eating he finds his thoughts drifting to their typical place these days - Y/N.

Long story short, he found himself only liking her more than before after how things were between them last night. He can’t even imagine how far gone he’ll be for her if things actually went further than this blossoming friendship - with a dash of sexual tension - that they’ve established.

“This hangover is truly going to kill me,” Y/N groans out.

She’s finally standing on her two feet in the bathroom after having been sitting by the toilet for the past twenty minutes. Both her palms are face down on the counter, her arms straight as she leans forward slightly and lets her head hang heavy between her shoulders. Looking up at her reflection she sees just how dirty the tequila has done her by the bags under her eyes and the queasy feeling in her stomach as she just thinks about how much tequila she had last night.

“It’s karma for not sleeping with Harry,” Sammy taunts her, his voice coming through the speaker of her cell phone that rests on the counter beside her.

He called earlier while Y/N was still asleep, the first time in forever that she slept past ten in the morning. She had seen the call, but was too busy rushing to the bathroom to empty her stomach to return it. Then she showered away the gross hungover feeling, it only helped a little, before she got dressed into a pair of leggings and an old college hoodie and ended up in front of the toilet again as the tequila teased her making her think she was going to throw up but she didn’t - thankfully.

“I thought about it, Sammy, I swear,” she shares, letting out a sigh as she looks up at the ceiling and relaxes her body again - the threat of vomiting again seeming to fade away.

“So why didn’t you?” Sammy asks.

“Cause I just didn’t want it to be like some pointless quick fuck with him,” Y/N tells him truthfully. “Sure, I loved how as we both got buzzed things got a little more careless and touchy and flirty. But it was just fun and it made my head spin and my heart pretty much leaped out of my chest. It wasn’t just stupid pointless flirting to get laid, it was deeper than that,” she explains to her best friend. As her words spill out she realizes she doesn’t quite make sense, and yet it made perfect sense in her head how she felt about Harry.

“And you feel this way and managed to somehow not tackle this man down and fuck his brains?” Sammy questions, his voice in a joking tone but Y/N knows he’s genuinely confused.

“Obviously I imagined it,” she admits, “I fucking brought out my vibrator last night, Sammy, I was that turned on by the damn guy. But I really don’t want to mess this up with Harry. I don’t want to jump right into it after the break up with Mark, and then ruin what is hands down the best connection I’ve ever felt with someone before. I just want to see how things play out, don’t force anything, you know?” she spills out, letting out a deep breath afterwards.

Those words have been heavy on her chest since she woke up this morning and replayed everything that happened between her and Harry. The smiles, the longing looks, the drinks, the touching, the smirking, and the goddamn sexual tension. Yes, she wanted to kiss him, many, many, times; all over his body, anywhere that she could. She imagined how their night could’ve ended if she wanted just a simply messy hot drunk hookup. But she wanted more than that with Harry - so much more. It was the honest truth, regardless of how soon she’s broken up with Mark, she can’t ignore how her feelings have grown towards Harry. So, she was just going to let it go on and whatever happens, happens.

“So, what are you doing tonight?” Sammy asks, bringing the topic away from Harry - only for Y/N to bring it right back. Which was exactly how her thoughts have been doing lately too; drifting away from Harry for only a moment before flying right back to him.

“Um, I sort of drunkenly made plans to watch a movie with Harry tonight,” she says, “I don’t even know if he remembers, I’m just going to wing it and knock on his door later.”

“You know what you should do? You should invite him to the work holiday party,” Sammy suggests, “I’m getting tired of talking about him so much and yet I don’t even know what he really looks like cause you suck at taking discreet sneaky pictures,” he explains with a dramatic sigh. Y/N rolls her eyes and finally decides now is a good time to leave the bathroom, no longer feeling too sick from her hangover. But she still heads back to her bedroom, flopping down onto her bed.

“I don’t know, I don’t want to make it weird and invite him to something less casual,” Y/N says.

“Well, see how things play out these next few days and if it’s good then invite him, seriously I’m dying to see some eye candy, Y/N,” Sammy groans.

“Okay, Sammy, we’ll see,” Y/N says, matching his melodramatic tone. She lets out another sigh, which is then taken over by a yawn. “I’m going to go, my head is pounding and I think I should try and nap before dealing with some work emails and then going to Harry’s,” Y/N explains.

“Fine,” Sammy sighs, “it’s weird that you’re the hungover one and I’m not,” he mentions. Y/N lets out a laugh through her nose and shuts her eyes.

“Honestly, it is,” she agrees, “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Ok, bye, feel better,” Sammy says, Y/N hears the smile in his voice.

“Thanks, bye,” she says and then hangs up the phone. She puts it down beside her and keeps her eyes shut. Taking a few deep breaths, Y/N tries to fall back asleep again. And she’s just about to when she hears that familiar heart warming guitar from Harry’s apartment. She wonders how long he’s been up? If he’s hungover at all too? She could text him and ask, but instead she just lays there and smiles as she listens to the muffled sweet melody he’s playing - then falls back into a deep slumber that her hungover body so desperately needed.

Y/N had texted Harry earlier, after he had written an entire song, surprisingly not about her this time. Well there was one line he wrote down that had to do with Y/N - played with myself where were you. It was cheeky, and didn’t really go with anything else he had so he just flipped through his journal and let himself get immersed into his songwriting during the hours of the day. Only ever stopping to make himself food or to use the washroom - otherwise, he was working hard without even meaning to.

Her first text read, So what time should I come over to watch the Polar Express? And then her second one made Harry chuckle, Also that guitar playing sounds pretty heavenly today, can’t wait to hear it in person later. With a winking face emoji at the end and everything. Cheeky girl, and anytime after seven should be fine to come over. Harry texted her back, also adding a winking emoji and then he went back into his work, ordered dinner, and now here they were.

There’s a rather soft knock on Harry’s door, causing him to stop writing in his journal and gets up to answer it. After unlocking the door, he swings it open and is surprised to see Y/N’s arms full, nearly dropping a can of whipped cream as she smiles at him.

“I brought everything for hot chocolate,” she states, beaming up at Harry over the container that holds her hot chocolate mix.

“I can see that,” Harry chuckles and reaches out to take everything from her. “You know I could’ve helped you carry a few things over, and I also have plenty of mugs here,” he says, lifting a finger that held the Grinch mug he had used at her apartment about a week ago now.

“I know, but mine are Christmas themed and it’s literally twelve days till Christmas and I need to use them as much as possible,” Y/N explains as she steps into Harry’s home and closes the door behind them. Harry takes in her appearance. Black leggings and a FIT jumper, and a pair of pink fuzzy socks on her feet. Harry’s brows pinch together as he holds back a laugh. “It’s only a few feet between our apartments, as you know, shoes are kind of pointless going back and forth,” she states with a nod.

Harry chuckles, lifting a brow and turning the corners of his lips up into a smile before saying, “yes, been there,” he says recalling the last time they had a movie night.

And just like that time, they moved together to the kitchen - after Harry locks the door behind Y/N - and they begin to make their hot chocolate in the two Christmas mugs Y/N brought along with her. Harry finds it endearing that she felt she needed to not only bring the supplies for hot chocolate, but also brought along her Christmas themed mugs. She truly does love the holidays, Harry thinks as he pours the boiling water into the mugs that Y/N had put the mix into. As they’re in the kitchen they’re talking about how their days were.

“So hungover,” Y/N groans, confirming how she had felt today after Harry had asked.

“You did drink that tequila like it was water though,” Harry states, chuckling as he watches Y/N stir the spoon in the mugs to mix up the hot chocolate. Y/N lets out a playful hiss as if the thought of all that tequila hurt her to think about now.

“I probably looked like a drunk in front of all your friends,” she thinks aloud. She frowns as she wraps her hand around the can of whipped cream, shaking it a few times before tipping it upside down and pushing the tip of it to fill up the top of the mug. She grabs the Grinch mug with one hand and holds it to Harry, making it smile as he realizes she remembered how he used that mug last time.

“They were just as drunk, maybe even more,” Harry tells her, “in fact, Mitch pulled an all nighter.”

“Well, good,” Y/N sighs, following him into the living room with both her hands wrapped around the Santa mug. “I really did have fun though,” she adds as they take a seat on the couch.

Harry meets her gaze after she takes a sip of her hot chocolate. A bit of whipped cream gets on her upper lip as she pulls the mug away. Y/N realizes and sticks her tongue out to swipe it over her lip, licking it away. Harry’s gaze is glued to her movements, his mouth suddenly feeling dry as he inhales slowly through his nose. And those certain thoughts of Y/N didn’t hide away for very long, Harry thinks before he clears his throat quietly and lifts his mug to his lips.

“I did too,” he says, “all of us did, they said you were cool like five times in our groupchat,” he adds before taking a sip of his warm drink. Y/N stomach lunges knowing that him and his friends talked about her in their groupchat. Has she been a topic of discussion before?

“Me? Cool?” Y/N questions, confusion thick in her voice. “No way, they’re the cool ones, not me. I mean you are all clearly very musically gifted and get to just hangout and make music and I find it all just very… Cool,” Y/N explains as she ends with a small sigh and smiles at Harry.

“It can be pretty cool, yeah,” Harry nods, mirroring her smile.

“Speaking of being musically gifted,” Y/N hums, smirking over her mug before taking another sip.

Harry knows where she’s going with this already. He gets that familiar nervous feeling in his stomach, nothing like the butterflies he was feeling just before knowing that she finds his line or work ‘cool’ - in fact he feels his smile slip immediately but tries to cover it with a cough. He sets down his mug and brings his hands to his lap, leaning back into the couch while he looks at the blank TV screen on the wall.

“Will you play something for me?” Y/N asks in that intoxicating softly spoken voice of hers.

“I want to play for you, I do,” Harry assures her after a few beats of silence, as he tried to figure out how to get her to drop this idea of him playing for her.

“But?” Y/N inquiries, tilting her head slightly to try and look at his face better. He looks uncomfortable, Y/N thinks and tries her hardest to not frown. She guesses that he’s just got a bit of stage fright of some sorts. But he plays for a living, there must be a few people he plays in front of at the studio.

“But, I want to have the perfect song to show you,” Harry tells her as he turns to meet her eyes. It’s not a lie, he truly does want to play the most perfect song for her. But that nervous feeling in his stomach doesn’t go away.

“I’m sure all your songs are perfect,” Y/N assures him. Her voice is still as gentle as before.

“And also it’s my wrist,” Harry says suddenly, lifting his right wrist up, “I got surgery on it earlier this year, it’s just been acting up.” Quick thinking, Styles, he thinks and gives her a smile.

Y/N remembers how she had heard him playing earlier today. But by the way that Harry’s avoiding Y/N’s eyes again while this stretch of silence falls between them, and the fact he’s rubbing at his wrist for good measure too, Y/N knows that he’s not ready yet to play in front of her. So, she gives him a sweet smile and stands up from the couch suddenly.

“I have this heating pad, I use it on my ankle that I broke a few years back, it helps sometimes,” Y/N explains, “I’ll go get it,” she says.

Truthfully she just needed a moment to not have to hide how it hurt her feelings just a tad that Harry didn’t feel comfortable enough around her to play. It wasn’t the biggest deal ever, because she sure that one day he will. But it still makes her a bit sad that today’s not that day.

“Y/N, it’s fine, really,” Harry brushes off her suggestion.

“H, I live next door, I’ll be back in two seconds,” she insists, giving him a smile and walking from her seat on the couch, setting down her mug on the coffee table before she’s making her way around Harry as he sits there watching her.

“Okay,” Harry says softly and nods before Y/N is walking out of his apartment. The second the door closes behind her Harry’s deep in his thoughts.

Harry has a pretty high case of stage fright, the feeling of nerves bundling up inside of him at the thought of performing in front of people even made him feel a bit sick sometimes. It was something he’s been working on for years now, through schooling and with his career as a songwriter starting up afterwards too. He would eventually talk himself out of the fear of failing during any uni exams he had, and would ace it naturally, but that ball of nerves sat heavy in his stomach the entire time. When it came to his job, he simply warmed up to his colleagues. At first he didn’t speak up much, would stumble on some notes, but things worked out in the end. It helped a lot after he found his current group as they became his closest mates too, so he became much more comfortable with playing for them over some time.

He realizes that he considers Y/N a close friend now too, and that should mean that he would feel more than confident walking over to the acoustic guitar sitting at it’s stand in the corner by the chair in the living room - but he didn’t quite yet. And one of the main reasons was because he felt something much deeper than friendship. He really freaking liked her. And if he played something, mucking it up like an idiot because of his nerves, he would beat himself up over it for days if not weeks.

Harry imagines the first time he plays a song for her that will be perfect. The song would be about her, he’s got a few of those now, and as he plucked along slowly he’d peer up at her to find her smiling back at him. Then he would really surprise her and sing. Harry knows he can sing well, but again his stage fright that relates to a fear of failing causes him to not sing all that often. He’ll sing for demos for work, or when he’s by himself, but that’s about it. Mitch actually had asked Harry if he wanted to be a part of the band before he found their lead singer, but Harry politely declined and has more than enjoyed just sitting back and watching his friends play instead. Although there’s a small pit of jealousy and envy that’s been growing in size every time he watches them.

Suddenly the door opens back up and Harry’s snapping out of his thoughts to look over his shoulder at Y/N walking in with some brown fabric in her hands. She turns to lock Harry’s door, then turns around and holds up the heating pad in her hands with a smile. It’s a sloth, a simple stitching on it to show it’s hugging wherever it’s placed on someone’s body and a smile on its face.

“I got it not too long ago, while shopping for other people's gifts, actually,” Y/N admits and starts making her way into the kitchen. “Do you do that thing where you are supposed to just be buying presents for other people but you end up buying yourself something too?” She asks Harry, raising her voice slightly as she’s put some distance between them.

“Yes, it’s hard not to,” Harry says as watches her open his microwave and place the sloth inside. She pushes some buttons and it starts up. As the sloth spins inside, Y/N turns around and leans her back against the counter and looks through the open concept space at where Harry sat on the couch.

“Have you bought any presents this year?” She asks, knowing that he’s not going home for Christmas so therefore he wouldn’t have to buy much.

“Just some for Mitch, Adam and his wife and then Tom and Jenny,” Harry states, “what about you? Do you have lots of family to buy gifts for?”

“Not really,” Y/N lifts one shoulder in a shrug, “I’m an only child, but my aunt has a couple kids so I kind of go crazy for them,” she explains with a smile. The microwave beeps, signalling that the heating pad was all warmed up, and Y/N turns back around to open the door and grabs it. It’s not too warm, so she closes the microwave door and makes her way back over to Harry.

She hands the heating pad to Harry and he gives her a smile. He says a quiet ‘thank you’ and places it over his wrist that’s resting on his thigh. It does feel rather nice, actually, he thinks as he adjusts his hand under the warm sloth. He feels a bit bad for making up the little white lie, although his wrist does ache from time to time, it wasn’t in any sort of pain right now. But he’s just being a stupid little coward and deflecting her attention on him playing her something on his guitar. Harry does notice how Y/N’s eyes linger on the acoustic guitar across the room as she leans over to grab her hot chocolate again and takes her seat on the couch once more. You’re such an ass, Styles, Harry thinks to himself but clears his throat and looks at Y/N.

“Did you enjoy growing up as an only child?” He asks. Harry personally couldn’t imagine growing up on his own. His sister, Gemma, was one of his best friends and he was also rather close with cousins while growing up too so they felt a bit like siblings too.

“Not really, no,” Y/N answers truthfully. She clears her throat and looks down at the Santa mug in her hands. “My parents were always busy with working or socializing, sometimes I was invited to come along, other times I was kept away with a nanny or my Aunt would visit sometimes and keep me company.” She tells Harry, feeling herself slowly open up to the idea of sharing everything with him. She hardly told Mark a thing about her childhood or her parents - mostly because he already knew, since he grew up in the same sort of crowd.

“Are you close with your Aunt then?” Harry asks, keeping his voice in that low tone that still brought goosebumps to Y/N’s skin from time to time.

Y/N’s lips tug slightly up into a smile, looking up from her mug and meeting Harry’s gaze. “Yes, she’s probably the one family member that I am close with. I love my parents, don’t get me wrong,” she pauses and ponders how to explain it to him, looking up at the ceiling for only a moment before looking back at Harry. “They just value life a bit differently than me. My Aunt, Vivian, she’s just the most chill and most like me I guess,” Y/N settles with keeping it easy, not digging too deep into her family drama.

Her Aunt Viv, who was her mothers younger sister, was truly the only person in her family that she felt she connected with. Y/N did love her mom and dad, they gave her a life better than she could ever ask for, but they were much more into the lifestyle and gaining wealth and social status over being a true loving family. Hence the many after school programs they stuck her in, and also having a live-in nanny till she was fourteen. But when Viv was around things felt a bit normal in her ridiculously abnormal life.

Viv didn’t have the same big dreams of being a gold digger like Y/N’s mom did, so she went to university, fell in love with a nice young man who worked a normal blue collar type of job and they bought a house just outside of New Jersey. They never ask for any help from Y/N’s parents, and they worked very hard for the life they’re provided for their two young kids. She just found Viv to be much more inspiring than her own mother who’s days included online shopping and luncheons with fellow wives who lived off their wealthy husbands' money. As Y/N grew up, Viv would take her away from her nanny some nights and would just bring her to her home and watch movies, have painting nights, and would even sit down with Y/N for hours watching red carpet events too - knowing her love for fashion even at a young age. She became Y/N’s friend more than another snobby family member.

Harry had respectfully stayed quiet as he saw Y/N fall into deep thought. He didn’t want to ask anymore questions that would cross any lines because from what little he has heard, Y/N’s family life is a bit more complicated than he could imagine. Y/N smiles suddenly, as she’s thinking of a memory.

“Viv was actually the one who really got me into the love for the holidays,” she states, “like, yeah, my parents would go all out with the decorations and the gifts and the parties. But Viv introduced me to the better part of the holidays in my opinion, like she’d take me to the rinks around the city to skate, and she’d show me the city’s festive sights. We’d even have days dedicated to going to the Christmas market. And during all that she’d always have a Starbucks holiday drink in her hand. I guess you could say I sort of modelled my young adult self to be like her during the holidays,” Y/N explains with a smile on her lips.

Those times slowly sadly faded out after Y/N got into high school, and Viv finished uni and met her husband. They wouldn’t go to the rink as much, or go for pointless walks to see the city’s many lights and Christmas Trees. Before Y/N knew it, all those childhood memories that she cherished just slid away, but she understood - they both grew up and she would hold onto those memories that her Aunt Vivian gave her to her heart closely forever.

“But as we both got older, life got busy and now she gets to do all those things over again with her own kids and not her sisters neglected one,” Y/N tries to make it sound like a joke, but it wasn’t.

She hides her frown behind her Santa mug and takes a generous sip, the drink having grown colder as time has passed. Harry’s about to make a comment, about how he’s grateful that Y/N did at least have her Aunt, but Y/N speaks up before he can.

“What about you? What were the holidays like growing up?” She asks, a smile returning to her lips.

“Great, honestly,” Harry nods, letting a short chuckle pass his lips, “my family can be a bit nuts, they love family time and being overbearing with playing silly games or family photos. But, I love it,” Harry explains, smiling.

He thinks about last year, how competitive him and his family got during a game they had played, or how big his mum and gran smiled as they popped Christmas crackers and everyone wore those paper crowns for one of the many photos his mum insisted on taking.

Y/N is mirroring his smile, tucking her mug to her chest as she listens to him. Sounds like a much better time than the memories she has with her parents around the holidays, Y/N thinks feeling a bit jealous - as she did whenever anyone told her of their holiday traditions and such. She can’t help but notice the distant look in his eyes as he grabs his mug.

“It’s actually the first Christmas I won’t be spending with my family, as I mentioned before,” he states, clearing his throat afterward as the emotions threaten to come in quick. He takes a sip of his hot chocolate and points to the TV then. “Should I pull up the movie before we’re sitting here drinking cold chocolate?” Harry asks. Because, truthfully, he could sit here all night and talk about life with Y/N but they had planned to watch a movie.

“Sure,” Y/N smiles, although feeling a bit sad being reminded that Harry wasn’t going home for the holidays. She takes another sip of her drink again, before she’s turning her body to watch the TV screen on the wall as Harry grabs for the remote and finds the Polar Express on demand.

As the movie begins to play, they both get comfortable and sip their hot chocolates till their Christmas mugs are empty. Harry offers to take Y/N’s mug, so she doesn’t have to sit up from the slouched position she’s slipped into in her corner of the couch, placing it beside his on the coffee table before he relaxes back into his spot. It’s about half way through the movie, after they had jokingly sung along with the hot chocolate song of course, when Y/N is nearly laying out on her end of the couch. Harry feels selfish for not offering the side he’s on, as he has his legs stretched out on the chaise of the couch. Y/N slowly lets her legs slip out across the cushion between them till they’re just slightly bent and the fuzzy pink socks on her feet just barely brush Harry’s thigh.

Her toes wiggle a little, tapping against the side of Harry’s thigh ever so gently, but it causes a much less gentle reaction in his body. His stomach fluttering and his heart pounding as he glances at Y/N in the corner of his eye. A feeling of undesirable desire filters through him as she wiggles her toes again before settling her feet hardly even touching him. But it’s more the act of being comfortable around Harry that has him feeling like his heart might explode.

He’s tempted to grab onto her ankles and stretch out her legs completely so her feet would rest in his lap. Maybe he’d rub her calves, hoping the feeling made her stomach flutter as much as his. But he didn’t want to cross any sort of line. So he was content with the tiny bit of contact between them from her feet resting on the side of his thigh as the movie kept playing.

It wasn’t till near the very end that Harry heard a soft snore come from Y/N. He turns his head completely and looks over at her. Her eyes shut, her lips parted slightly, as she laid on her arms folded under her head. Harry isn’t sure how to react here, should he wake her? Or let her slumber because it’s obvious she needs it since she fell asleep during what she claims to be her favourite holiday movie. Harry ponders for a moment before he decides to finish watching the movie. Once it’s finished is when he’d make his decision.

“Y/N,” Harry says as the credits are rolling. She doesn’t move a muscle. “Y/N, darling,” Harry tries again in a gentle voice, placing a hand on her leg and giving her one good nudge. To which Y/N doesn’t respond at all.

That hangover must be hitting her body hard, begging for the sleep she needed to fully recover. So, Harry reaches for the knitted blanket that’s resting over the back of his couch and paces it over Y/N’s body. As he gets up from the couch, he turns back around and looks at Y/N for a moment - taking in her effortless beauty even while she’s sleeping.

With a nearly inaudible sigh, Harry gathers up their mugs, bringing them to his kitchen and quietly rinsing them out before he double checks that the heat is at a reasonable temperature. It was supposed to get rather cold tonight and he didn’t want Y/N to wake up freezing in his home. Once he’s turned off the TV and the only lights left on are from his tree, he turns back to Y/N. The soft glow from the Christmas lights casting over her breathtaking features causes yet another stir of feelings inside his stomach.

He wishes he could bend down, place a soft kiss to her forehead - maybe one day soon he could. Maybe even get to fall asleep next to her, staring at her beauty till he drifted into a slumber as well. But for now, he just quietly walks down the hall to his bedroom and leaves his door open a few inches just in case Y/N woke up in a panic or anything. He’d be a lighter sleeper than usual tonight, thinking about how close Y/N was.

At one point in the middle of the night Y/N woke up. Her eyelids were still heavy as she tried to focus on the space around her. She had fallen asleep during the movie, in Harry’s apartment, on his couch - oh god. A wave of embarrassment washed over her as her eyes flicker from the blank TV screen, to the now empty other side of the couch, before settling on the warm lights of the Christmas tree.

She should get up and head home to her own apartment and not be an idiot who falls asleep on her friend's couch uninvited. Y/N’s fingers curl around the top of the warm blanket that Harry must’ve draped over her before heading to bed himself. The pads of her fingers brush over the soft fabric while her heart beats like crazy in her chest. Harry’s sweetness and well mannered actions shouldn’t surprise Y/N anymore - but they do. She smiles and brings the blanket to her chin, snuggling into the couch once more and tries to not think about how sore her neck and back will be in the morning from sleeping on the couch. Instead she looks at the Christmas tree as her eyelids grow heavy again and she slips back into her dreamstate once more.

The next time she wakes it’s due to the sun peering through the curtains in Harry’s living room. She blinks a few times and brings a hand up to rub the sleep from her eyes. Suddenly she hears a noise coming from a few feet away from her. Y/N’s heart all but leaps out of her chest as she sits up on the couch and looks to where the noise came from. Her wide eyes meet Harry’s equally widened eyes, him pausing mid-movement as he must’ve been grabbing a mug from the cabinet.

“Sorry,” he says quietly, bearing his clenched teeth to her in a joking but nervous way. His dimple deepens at the facial expression, Y/N notices it right away even from a room away from him.

“It’s okay,” she replies. Her voice sounds a little scratchy as it’s the first time using it since waking. How utterly adorable, Harry thinks as he smiles at her and sets his mug down at his coffee maker before hitting start. “And I should be the one apologizing, I kinda ended up crashing on your couch uninvited,” Y/N says, running a hand through her hair to try and tame it.

“It wasn’t a problem, Y/N, nothing to be sorry about,” Harry tells her, walking towards her till he got to the large threshold between his open concept kitchen and living room. He crosses his arms at his chest and Y/N notices how the muscles in his arms flex immediately. “Must have been a hangover side effect, hm?” Harry questions.

Y/N clears her throat as she tries to not take in Harry’s appearance in the morning but she can’t help herself. He’s wearing a pair of black sweatpants with a simple grey t-shirt, white socks covering his feet, and while him dressed down did look hot - it was how his hair looked that really took her breath away. The way it looks much more fluffy than usual, most likely from rolling around in his bed, made her stomach flutter and she ended up biting her bottom lip as he brought a hand up to push back the bit of hair that had fallen over his forehead. Y/N blinks a few times before meeting his gaze again.

“You’d think the nap I took before coming over would help with my hangover but I guess not,” Y/N states, she exhales through her nose and shakes her head before folding her arms over the back of the couch and rests her chin on them. “But again, I’m sorry,” she adds.

“And again, it’s okay,” Harry ensures her, dropping his arms to his sides as he smiles. “Now, would you like a cup of hot chocolate or coffee?” He asks.

“Coffee,” Y/N answers, her voice back to that soft and gentle tone that made Harry’s head spin. He recalls when they first met, and how he wished he could hear her voice each night and morning. His wish is slowly coming true, although he imagines it involving her in bed more often than not. But for now, he’ll take her waking up on his couch any day if it means he gets to hear her voice.

Harry nods and walks back over to where the mug filled of freshly brewed coffee now sat. Y/N tilts her head to the left, still resting her chin on her arms, as she watches Harry move around his kitchen. He calls over his shoulder to ask what she’d like in her coffee, with which she replies ‘two teaspoons of sugar please’ - that earns her a half smile as he glances her way again and mutters ‘why am i not surprised’, causing Y/N to mock a hurt look on her face and gasps.

“What is that supposed to mean?” She questions, watching him stir up the sugar in her coffee. Harry turns and brings the mug over to her, causing her to sit up straight again and grab it from him with both hands.

“It means you love sugar as much as any toddler would, I swear,” Harry teases.

“Something wrong with liking the taste of something sweet?” She questions, raising a brow as she looks up at him from where he stood on the other side of the back of the couch.

Harry’s breath hitches in his throat at her choice of words. He immediately wants to answer back with ‘well I want to taste you, all of you, so no’ but instead he holds back his filthy thoughts and gulps. Y/N notices Harry’s Adam's apple bob up and down as she stares up at him through her lashes, slowly bringing the mug he had just given her to her lips to give it a taste. Harry watches her the entire time as she sips the coffee and licks it off her lips. Everything inside of him is begging to touch her. To bring the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip, catching the last few drops of her drink off her lip, and bringing it to his mouth to get a taste. Or to just take the mug right back, place it on the closest surface and take her face into his hands to kiss her fiercely.

Harry struggles but pushes away his thoughts once again, for what felt like the millionth time this morning, and raises an eyebrow, “sweet enough for you?” He asks, his voice teasing.

Y/N smiles sweetly and nods once, “it’s perfect, thank you,” she replies.

Harry mirrors her smile before he walks back to his kitchen, only then looking down at his sweatpants to ensure there wasn’t any noticeable bulge. It had taken a few disturbing images in his head to calm himself down and not be sporting a hard on in front of Y/N. But he manages, grabs his own mug - since Y/N now held his typical mug he uses for his morning coffee - and sets it into place.

“Any plans today?” Y/N asks, taking another sip of her coffee and feeling the warmth flood inside of her body. Or maybe that feeling was from how Harry had looked at her just now, she thinks.

“Nope,” Harry shakes his head and grabs for his own mug of black coffee. “What about you? No work today?” He asks, bringing the mug to his lips and blowing to cool it down before taking a sip.

Y/N shakes her head and leans back into the side of the couch, “my boss was nice enough to let us have today off, then back in for a few days but Friday, the eighteenth, isn’t really a big work day. We’re having our annual holiday party that night, so we mostly spend the day finalizing any party planning,” she explains to Harry as he leans back against the counter and sips his coffee again.

“Well that’s nice of her to give you the day off, then after the eighteenth are you off work for holidays?” Harry asks.

“Yup,” she nods, “I get two weeks off, back into the swing of things on the fourth of January,” she states.

“Sounds nice,” Harry says with a smile. “I’m jealous you guys have an office Christmas party, my label only really does something for a select group of people. Whoever made them the most money, honestly,” Harry exclaims. What he doesn’t mention is that he had been invited, and has been for the past three years due to his songs hitting it big on radio or on the charts and causing some big ripples for the artists career that had bought them.

“Sounds like the party wouldn’t be all that fun then,” Y/N notes, tilting her head to the side as she watches Harry make his way into the living room and takes a seat on the couch. She tucks her feet up just under her bottom, resting her mug on her knees but still keeping both hands on it of course.

“I’m sure yours is a lot more fun,” Harry nods in agreement.

She should ask him to be her plus one then. But she hesitates, unsure of how he would see her invite. Would he think she’s trying to make it a date? So soon after her break up? Would he think he was being played as her rebound? She would then have to try and cover up that it wasn’t a date, that they could just go as friends, but then she’d sound like she was friend-zoning him and she really didn’t want that. So, while she’s all in her head about what to do, Harry decides to take a chance.

“Did you want to go for a walk around Central Park?” He asks, looking hopefully into Y/N’s eyes. “We can skate there, I’m sure you’ve been but their rink looks like it would be nice too,” Harry suggests.

Her lips tug up into a smile, “yeah, I would love that,” she pauses as her heart pitter patters in her chest at the sight of Harry smiling back at her. “After breakfast though, I’m starving,” she says, being a bit dramatic. But it makes Harry chuckle, which is exactly what she hoped for.

“How do you feel about some chocolate chip pancakes then?” Harry asks, raising a brow as he sits up straight again and mentally goes through the recipe in his head. It typically doesn’t have pancakes, let alone chocolate chip pancakes, but he has a feeling Y/N would like them. Her love for sugar being obvious by now.

“Love them,” Y/N says with a smile still on her lips.

Where did this perfect man come from? Y/N finds herself thinking as she watches Harry get up from the couch and walk back into the kitchen. He sips his coffee as he walks before setting it on the counter.

“I can help if you’d like,” she offers, raising her voice slightly so she knew Harry could hear her.

But Harry dismisses the idea quickly and tells her to just sit back and relax. Any bets on how much longer it took for her to fall for Harry? Y/N thinks, biting her bottom lip as she watches him bend over, peering deep into his fridge as he moves things out of the way in search for whatever he needs. His bum looks rather nice from this angle, she finds herself shamelessly checking him out. Her guess was that it wouldn’t be much longer at all till she fell for him.

“Did you invite him yet?” Sammy asks, biting on his pen as he leans back in his chair. They were waiting in the conference room, along with everyone else that held a higher position at her work, for Amanda to join them and start their final meeting of the year.

“No,” Y/N replies. She shrugs her shoulders and picks at the corner of her notebook.

“And why the hell not?”

“I don’t want to make it weird, bringing him to a work thing and have to explain to everyone how he’s just a friend even though I wish he was more,” she tells Sammy, eyes still on the torn up paper on the table in front of her.

“Well if you don’t invite him then you’re missing the perfect opportunity to make it more than a friendship,” Sammy states, giving her a side eye before he just rolls them and leans forward in his seat again. He leans towards Y/N and looks into her eyes, letting her know he means business. “Talk to him tonight, invite the poor man, and get out of your own head. You don’t have to keep yourself waiting because of what Mark did when you have what you truly deserve right in front of you. Harry makes you happy, I can just tell by the way you smile at your phone or when I see you ditched hanging with me to hang with him and his friends instead,” he says the last bit with sarcastic bitterness.

Y/N lets out a deep breath through her nose and licks her lips. Her brain is running a million miles an hour. As it has been for weeks now, since she met Harry honestly - she just likes him that much. At first she tried to deny it, and last weekend after her sudden break up with Mark she tried to convince herself again that she needed to keep Harry as a friend. But now, now she just wanted him - all of him, all of the time.

“Okay,” Y/N nods.

Sammy’s lips spread up into a wide smile, the look of excitement clear on his face, but to add to it he pumps a fist into the air. Y/N just rolls her eyes and laughs at him. Amanda enters the room soon after, starting up their final meeting of the year. She goes over numbers, stats, comparing last year to this year, and even promotes a few people. Thankfully, Y/N and Sammy are in their ideal positions now, so they never have that nervous feeling of going into a year-end meeting praying for a promotion. But Y/N still grins and claps for her colleagues who are working their way up in the company. After going through some minor details for their annual holiday party tomorrow, Amanda dismisses the team and Y/N is soon after heading home for the day.

Don’t be a pussy. Ask Harry to come to the holiday party or else. Sammy had texted her after they parted ways at the subway. Y/N bit down on her bottom lip, reading over the texts again as the elevator sounds a soft ding! and she walks out onto the sixth floor. Y/N confidently walks on her platform Doc Martin boots passed her own apartment door and right to Harry’s. Lifting her free hand, the other holding her Starbucks holiday drink, she knocks four times on the door before patiently waiting for him to answer. Her heart is beating so loud she can practically hear it ringing in her ears.

Harry answers the door after a few moments, his eyebrows pulling together at the sight of Y/N on the other side. While it’s a delight to see her, they hadn’t planned to hangout at all - so he’s rather surprised to see her standing before him. Y/N smiles and Harry’s quick to mirror it.

“Hey,” she breathes out, the same bundle of nerves that have been with her all day seeming to not relax in the slightest.

“Hey,” Harry smiles, “what’s up?” He asks, leaning against his door.

“Um,” Y/N pauses and closes her eyes, opening them to look at the floor before she takes a deep breath to meet his gaze again. Oh no, Harry thinks, feeling nervous since answering the door as he’s unsure how to take in her nonverbal cues right now. “So, you know that holiday party my work’s having that I mentioned?” Y/N questions, when Harry nods she doesn’t leave another second of hesitation slide by her before continuing. “I was wondering if, maybe, you’re not busy, if you wanted to come with me,” she stumbles out her invitation.

Harry’s truthfully a little surprised by her inviting him. His eyebrows now raised up his forehead as he processes her words. He immediately wants to say yes, obviously. Besides his clear as day feelings for Y/N, he also saw her as a friend too and he would love to accompany her for anything she asked him to.

“Everyone gets a plus one, and I can’t imagine bringing anyone else but you with me. Also, Sammy is practically begging me to introduce you two already,” Y/N exclaims as it seems Harry was in his head for too long. He smiles at her statements. First, blushing slightly at her comment about how she couldn’t imagine inviting anyone but him, and then holding back a chuckle at her mentioning her friend Sammy.

“It’s tomorrow, right?” Harry asks, half to just be sure and half to delay his answer to jokingly stress her out a little maybe.

“Yes,” Y/N nods, biting on her bottom lip for a moment. When Harry’s eyes fall to her teeth nibbling on her pink lips she notices and stops, butterflies present in her stomach at the thought of Harry thinking about her lips.

“I think I’m free,” Harry teases. He brings a hand to his chin, looking up at the ceiling in a joking manner as if he’s pondering what else could be on his schedule for the day. Y/N knows that he’s not doing a whole lot these days, but for all she knows he could have already had things planned with his friends. But Y/N can’t lie - she’s happy to hear he hasn’t.

Y/N chuckles and reaches forward, smacking his arm that’s resting on his chin with a gentle force. Harry chuckles along with her and stops his act as if he’s really thinking about if he can accept her invitation or not. Y/N lets her arms fall back to her side again and smiles, looking into Harry’s dazzling eyes as he smiles back at her. They stand there in his doorway, smiling, for a few beats of silence before Harry tells her.

“You’re going to have to help me with an outfit though,” he says, “there is no way I’m going to a party in New York City that a ton of fashion obsessed people will be at, without your help,” he states. Y/N chuckles again and nods, bringing her Starbucks cup to her mouth slowly.

“I can do that,” she says, tilting her cup to have a sip of the warm liquid.

“Okay,” Harry nods, “and what time will you be picking me up for this date?” He asks jokingly, although a big piece of him is hoping she won’t deny that it’s a date.

Y/N smiles, feeling a blush creeping onto her cheeks, “like, six-ish,” she tells him.

“Sounds good,” Harry says.

“Good,” Y/N nods, a smile still on her lips, “I have to go now though, I have a few presents for my coworkers I need to wrap and some last minute phone calls to make to get things all set for tomorrow,” Y/N explains, taking a few slow steps backwards while her eyes are still glued to Harry’s.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Harry says, his smile never flattening either.

“Yes,” Y/N nods, her stomach in a fit of butterflies as she realizes that she really just invited him to her work party.

Turning on her heels, she hears Harry close his door, and walks to her own apartment to unlock the door. She did it, she’s going to be bringing Harry to a work function - this was kinda big, she realizes, but she’s too excited to worry right now. So, instead she turns on her Christmas playlist on her TV, after she steps out of her shoes and hangs up her coat, and sings along as she sets up her little workstation to wrap a few presents.

Y/N has been running around like a chicken with their head chopped off all day. She was determined to have this holiday party be perfect. Harry was her plus one, she imagined things going so well between the two of them tonight. But then things started to go south the moment she walked into the office this morning and Amanda bombarded her at the front doors, “we were double booked” she had told Y/N. Turns out their location for their party tonight was double booked and the other function had already paid off the business to let them have the space. Therefore having Y/N scrabbling for a place to have this party.

“We should just have it here,” Sammy suggested.

It was a last resort suggestion, but in reality it could work. The building their office was in had a decent sized room that was used for conferences and such. And after calling the building staff they learnt it wasn’t being used, so they started working on getting that set up.

Y/N was on the phone for hours, making sure the catering and bar services company they hired knew the relocation, and having them show up on time to get the set up going too. Then she was downstairs to help the decorations team replan their set up before she was literally running down the streets to the Target in order to buy new table clothes that would fit the tables the building provided. And somehow, with a little blood and sweat and a few tears shed too, Y/N made it happen.

She lets out a loud deep breath and looks at the room around her. The shimmering lights hanging down from the ceiling, perfectly placed so they wouldn’t hit anyone in the head but still looking very dreamy. There’s one wall full of fresh wreaths, some huge and some small, with matching red ribbons and ornaments on them. It’s picture perfect and Y/N already had taken a short video of them as they were setting it up to post on her Instagram. The way the plain white tablecloths she had bought earlier were now styled with more fresh pine that was used for the wreaths, with a few candles on each table and more red Christmas ornaments too, it all just looked so good. She especially loved the large real Christmas tree that she and Sammy took the time to decorate that sat in the far corner of the room by the gorgeously decorated bar that stretches along the back wall. Overall, it’s fashionable, Instagram worthy, and perfect.

Y/N is about to tell someone hired for the event to add a few more beaded garlands around the entryway when her phone rings. She gives the young woman a smile and holds up a finger while producing her phone that’s in her jean pocket. Looking at the screen she sees Harry’s name at the top, which causes a flutter of butterflies in her stomach. She smiles and swipes a finger across the screen to answer his call.

“Hey,” she says, walking away from the people that are rushing around her to finalize the party.

“Hey,” Harry breathes out. Y/N can hear the nerves in the one word. She furrows her brows and begins to worry that maybe he can’t make it anymore, suddenly feeling very upset at the thought. “You’re late,” he states. Y/N’s brows pinch together further and her eyes narrow.

“What?” She questions.

“Well, it’s almost six, and you’re supposed to help me pick something to wear, but I understand if you can’t or don’t want to. I’m sure I can figure something out, but don’t want to make you look bad by bringing a badly dressed bloke to your party,” Harry explains, catching himself sounding a bit needy. He didn’t need her to help style him for the holiday party, but he wanted her opinion of course.

“Oh my god what time is it?” Y/N gasps, asking Harry the question but really more asking herself as she realizes time has slipped by her in the whirlwind that was relocating this party.

“Um, quarter to six,” Harry tells her.

“Shit, H, I’m sorry, I haven’t looked at a clock in hours, I’m still at my office. We had to work fast and relocate the party for tonight, I’ve been so busy I didn’t even realize,” Y/N explains, her eyes searching around the room for either Amanda or Sammy or really anyone that could take over for her to hurriedly get ready.

“Oh, it’s okay, not a problem really,” Harry says, tapping a pen on the notebook that’s in front of him. He had been caught up a bit with his own work too, writing a song.

“Okay,” Y/N sighs, “game plan, you can send me pictures of some things you can wear tonight, I’ll give you my opinion, and then I’ll get ready here and are you okay to meet me in the lobby at seven-thirty?” Y/N asks, finally locking eyes with Amanda across the room.

Amanda’s eyes are wide at the sight of her, arms thrown up into the air as she’s confused as to why Y/N is still here - Y/N may have told her she had to meet up with her new plus one. Amanda was just as excited to meet Harry as Sammy was, damn gossiper had gone and told Amanda all about Y/N and Mark’s breakup and about Harry now too. Y/N had glared at Sammy as Amanda asked a million questions about Harry earlier.

“Okay,” Harry nods, “I can do that, did you need me to bring you anything or are you all set at your office?”

Y/N smiles at Harry naturally asking her if she needed anything from him. “I’m good, I’ll just text you the address and let me know when you’re on the way, okay?”

“Okay,” Harry echoes.

“Okay, I have to go, I’ll see you soon,” she says. Harry says a goodbye before she hangs up the phone just as Amanda is walking up to her.

“What in the world are you still doing here? I thought you were supposed to leave like an hour ago to go get ready and meet up with your new man?” Amanda questions. She is dressed for tonight's festivities, wearing a sparkling silver gown that fit her like a glove. Her hair is out of it’s usual low ponytail and is pin straight. She looks amazing, of course.

“First,” Y/N points a finger, “not my new man, by any means. And second, I got caught up helping with some issues with catering and then I was fixing some lighting issues. I’m going upstairs to get ready, and Harry is meeting me here,” she tells Amanda.

“Go, go,” she shoos her off, “steal a good dress from that room of broken dreams.”

Amanda is referring to the small room upstairs in their office that holds many pieces from over the year that clients didn’t fit, didn’t like, or just simply didn’t get to see. Y/N nods, having already planned to go there, and rushes away to get upstairs and get ready. As she opens the door to the room full of clothing Harry texts her a few pictures of items in his closet he has for tonight.

Her eyes are glued on her screen, attention taken away from her finding something the moment she sees Harry’s name. There’s a black suit laid on his bed in the first picture, the idea of seeing him in a classic black suit and tie has her feeling some type of way, but it’s not the look for tonight. She swipes to the next photo and likes the cream and light blue vertical stripe button up shirt but not the deep purple trousers he paired with them. But in the next picture she really likes the fun look to the trousers, like a sort of grandpa’s sweater vibe with browns and whites in an interesting square pattern. Completely ignoring the black shirt he had paired with it, she texts him back.

Shirt from the second pic and pants from the third one! Trust me! Lol. And here’s the address, she types quickly, sending him her location, before pocketing her phone and turning to the first rack of clothing. Immediately she grabs for a light blue Gucci suit jacket. It would go with Harry’s outfit perfectly, she thinks with a smile, putting it to the side for him. She remembers the suit was too big for a certain younger actor who was hosting SNL last week, Timothee something or another, if she’s remembering correctly.

Y/N goes through what feels like is a hundred dresses, pantsuits, and everything in between before she finds the one she likes. It’s her size, thank god, and isn’t too shimmery and crazy like she feels everyone else will be dressed like. It’s a bit of a darker blue that the colour of the suit jacket she had pulled aside for Harry, with thin straps and a tight torso that had wires for under his boobs for a built in bra type of look. It ends just above her ankles and is embroidered with beautiful beads and stunning flowers and leaf designs. But with a bit of a scandalous look as the embroidery isn’t as crowded near the bottom of the dress and leaves her in a sheer fabric. Overall, she just really enjoys how it looks and feels - and truthfully, she can’t be too picky with such little time to finish getting ready now.

It works out perfectly as she looks over herself in the washroom on the main level, fluffing her hair that she had curled and touching up her makeup, Harry texts that he’s just about to walk inside. Hurrying through out of the washroom, she walks out into the lobby, the black heels she had taken from the heap of shoes upstairs click along the floor as she waves hello and smiles at the people around that she knows. There would be just over a hundred people in attendance for their party tonight, not too big but not too small either, and she was happy to see all the familiar faces she’s gotten to work with over the year. But, there is one face in particular she’s most happy to see.

Only Harry’s not alone. In fact, she shouldn’t be all that surprised to see her best friend had managed to single him out in the small crowd that was waiting to get into the conference room she’s spent all day setting up. She sighs and makes her way towards them, smiling at another colleague that gave her a quick compliment as she passed by. Sammy caught her eye first, noticing how she’s glaring at him but he only smirks back at her.

Then Harry shifts, looking over his shoulder at whatever Sammy is looking at, and he pauses at the sight of Y/N only a few feet away. Holy shit, Harry thinks to himself as he takes in how she looks. The dress fits her flawlessly, accentuating her curves and causing Harry to shamelessly check her out. She’s always beautiful, stunning really, but tonight she looks like she should be a runway model. He feels a bit underdressed beside her, even though she picked out his outfit, even just a jacket would make him feel a little less casual at this event.

“You look,” Harry pauses as he struggles to find the right word. Y/N has stopped now in front of him, hands fiddling with her small clutch resting in front of her. “Just, unbelievable, wow,” Harry finally breathes out. His words cause a warm blush to creep over his face, her eyes falling to the floor to catch his black boots on his feet, as she hides away her grin.

“You look really good, too,” she tells him, although her words are far less swoon worthy than his words. It still causes Harry to smile too, his stomach doing a few flips.

“And how do I look?” Sammy asks jokingly, breaking their moment as they both turn to look at him. He’s smirking and holding out both arms, showing off his sparkling gold suit jacket that he’s worn with some black tight suit pants and a black button up shirt. He looks good, obviously, but Y/N shoulders shake as she chuckles at her friends behaviour.

“You look marvellous,” Harry compliments him with a smile, Y/N looks at Harry and shakes her head.

“Oh, he’s good,” Sammy notes, pointing a finger at Harry but is looking at Y/N. “If you don’t keep him I’ll take him, like that little feeling I get in my stomach when he speaks, hm,” he hums, winking at Harry for good measure too. Both Harry and Y/N chuckle at her friend. Suddenly someone is calling for Sammy’s attention, and of course, he answers to it right away and leaves Y/N and Harry to themselves.

“I’m sorry about him,” Y/N says as they face each other once more, “Sammy can be a lot to handle,” she adds.

“He wasn’t that bad,” Harry assures her.

She hums and smiles, narrowing her eyes at him playfully. “I find that hard to believe, but alright,” she says, “oh! I have something for your outfit,” she mentions, grabbing his arm gently to guide the way to the building's front desk where they had set up a coat check.

Harry’s in his own head about how she so naturally grabbed onto him, her delicate hand wrapped around his arm before dropping down to her side again as she approached the line that was for coat check. He furrows his brows, confused if she was going to ask for the jacket he had brought with him, but instead he watches as she walks around the tables and helps herself to the rack of jackets. She pulls out a light blue suit jacket and smiles over it at him, watching as his eyes widen. He knows the jacket, it was a part of Gucci’s line last season. He had browsed through some Vogue article and loved the colour immediately, how did she know?

“It’s just sitting upstairs, unworn, and it deserves some attention,” Y/N explains, holding it out for him.

“I can just wear this, tonight? No fee?” Harry asks, finding this situation a little unreal honestly.

“Well,” Y/N gives him a smug smile, “how about your fee is a dance with me, later,” she bargains.

“Oh, there will be plenty of dancing, of course,” Harry says. He takes the suit jacket off the hanger, passing the empty hanger back to Y/N and then puts on the jacket. Shrugging his shoulders a few times to get it to sit right on his body, but boy does it ever fit him well. Like it was made for him, honestly. Cause my god does it ever look good on him, Y/N thinks as she watches him straighten out the jacket till it feels comfortable. Harry looks up to see Y/N staring at him, her teeth sunk into her bottom lip. He smirks, dimples popping up for show, and it causes Y/N to snap out of it and turn to put the hanger away. She then takes the few steps forward to Harry and smiles while looking up at him.

“You look phenomenal,” Y/N tells him, upping her previous compliment from before. Harry’s heart swells at her words and he extends his bent arm, for her to hold onto his forearm.

“Shall we?” Harry asks, motioning for her to grab onto his arm and walk into the now open doors to her party.

“We shall,” she smiles and puts her hand on his arm to let him guide them into the party she spent all day preparing. Y/N can’t help but notice the looks the people around them are giving her, a few smirks from other girls - with obvious jealousy on their faces. It makes her head spin, realizing that she’s about to be the talk of the office all because of the hot guy on her arm. Little do they know, he’s a lot more than how good he looks in this light blue suit jacket.

It only takes an hour before the rest of the people at the party realize that Harry is more than that pretty face of his.

He charms the socks off of every single person she introduces him to. Not to mention that Sammy is basically attached to his hip, begging for the attention, and Amanda has given Y/N a thumbs up every chance she’s gotten. Which she’s currently doing from the sidelines of the dance floor as Y/N is dancing around with Sammy, Harry and a few others now a few hours into the party. Y/N chuckles, the few tequila drinks making her feel a bit giggly, as she throws her head back and sways to the music. Harry’s watching her, admiring how carefree she looks as she dances to the music. Not an ounce of worry of any judgement from her coworkers around her.

“Y/N,” a colleague of hers comes up, putting a hand on her arm to get her full attention. She smiles as she meets her eyes. “Merry Christmas love, I’m going to head out with my husband, who very much loves your new boyfriend by the way,” she explains, mirroring Y/N’s smile. Harry is distracted, dancing with Sammy, and thankfully doesn’t hear her comment.

“Oh! He’s not my boyfriend,” she informs her, for probably the third time tonight. But her older colleague, Heidi, is rather forgetful when she has a few glasses on wine - something she’d learnt over the few years of working together. “Also, I have a present for you, just wait here and I’ll go get it and be right back I promise,” Y/N assures her, giving her a pout for good measure.

Heidi sighs but is still smiling, “fine, I’ll wait,” she nods.

Y/N is walking passed Harry, causing him to pinch his brows together and reach out for her. Through the night they didn’t leave each other's side, even when one of them had to use the washroom they let each other know. His hand is gentle, grasping onto her arm as she’s about to walk away, and pulling her to look his way. Y/N matches his look of confusion but smiles at the little pout on Harry’s lips at the sight of her leaving the dance floor without him.

“Where are you going?” He asks, bending his head down closer to her. His breath is warm against the skin, his lips mere inches from her ear. A chill falls over her as she looks back into his enchanting eyes.

“Upstairs, I need to grab something,” she states.

“Oh,” Harry pauses, “okay,” he says, still looking into her eyes. They were so beautiful, she’s so beautiful.

“Did you want to come with me?” Y/N asks. She doesn’t know why she does, maybe because she doesn’t want to leave Harry’s side for a single second or maybe her buzz from the tequila is making her brave. She imagines some alone time with Harry for the first time tonight would be nice.

Harry nods and slowly lets his hand drop from her arm to her hand. Their fingers intertwining like it's natural, ignoring the wide eyed look from Sammy, and Y/N leads the way out of the room and into the lobby. Harry thinks she’ll drop his hand once they reach the elevator but she doesn’t. It’s like a volcano of butterflies has erupted in his stomach. Feeling bold, he brushes the pad of his thumb over the back of her hand a few times as he inhales her sweet smelling perfume as she stands so close to him while waiting for the elevator doors to open.

Every moment they’ve had together tonight has been amazing, the same longing looks and full smiles between them but were always surrounded by others. Seems Y/N is rather popular at her place of work, everyone wants to hang around her and he’s been introduced to more people than he can count. Although Y/N did whisper in his ear “Sammy and Amanda are the only ones you really need to remember”, thankfully. But he really is having a good time as they enjoyed a quick meal at the beginning of the night, talking amongst the people at their table, then when that was finished up the wine was replaced with harder alcohol and things got pretty wild. Turns out these New Year City fashion obsessed people knew how to party and it wasn’t all gossip and trends with them. Harry was finding himself laughing, dancing and feeling more free than he had in quite a while. And maybe the tequila drinks he’s been sipping was helping, as he actually ended up liking Y/N’s drink of choice.

“Everyone loves you,” Y/N states, breaking the silence just as the elevator opens and they step inside. Harry smirks and lets her step up to hit the button inside, using her free hand as they still are holding each other. Their hands hang in the air as she steps forward, hitting the button, and then steps back to be right beside him.

“Glad my charm could be of use to impress your coworkers,” Harry says, making Y/N smile but rolls her eyes as she squeezes his hand that still holds her. They’re holding hands! Don’t freak out! Y/N is internally screaming at herself.

“Cheeky,” Y/N teases, using his word back at him finally. Although all those times he’s texted her ‘cheeky’ or ‘cheeky girl’ she does get butterflies in her stomach.

“Oh really?” Harry questions, huffing out a chuckle while raising his eyebrows.

Y/N laughs and Harry pulls on her hand that he’s holding to bring her even closer to him. Their sides touch, her bare arm brushing against the suit jacket, and she swore a spark of electricity shot through them as they were now leaning against one another. She looks from their feet, toe to toe, to how her bent knee just barely strokes against his pants, then looking at their conjoint hands - Harry still rubbing his thumb against her warm skin every once in a while - all the way up to meet Harry’s eyes. His face is so close, only a few inches away from hers. Y/N’s breath gets caught in her throat, her lips parting as she inhales slowly while looking into Harry’s eyes. Are they about to kiss? Both Harry and Y/N’s thoughts are swarming with the idea of their lips pressing together and sharing their first kiss right here, right now in this elevator-

A sudden ding! causes them to blink out of whatever trance they were in. Y/N turns her head to watch the doors open onto her office floor, only a few dim lights are kept on during the night hours so it looks a bit different than during the day. Harry’s only watching her though. Taking in every inch of her lips. The curve of her cupids bow, the pout of her bottom lip. How good the red lipstick still looks even hours later since their night has gone on. Oh how he wants to mess up that red colour, smearing it with his own lips, he’s in his head with many thoughts as Y/N tugs on his hand to bring them out of the elevator and into the main area of the office.

She has to let go of Harry’s hand to enter in the code to the main doors for their office that are frosted glass, beside the large desk that their secretary answers calls and logs in clients entering for any appointments. The sleek look from the large frosted glass doors and all white marble flooring and white desk compliments the big block letters of their company name that have neon lights behind it. Currently the colours were red and green, glowing with full holiday cheer as Y/N loved so much.

Harry’s watching Y/N, her slight sway to her body as she pushes open the door and holds it open for Harry to walk through. He nods and smiles, then let's Y/N lead the way. While her office floor is all very exciting and professional, he’s more focused on Y/N. She’s talking about how she had bought some gifts for her coworkers and got so busy today she forgot a few. Harry was in awe of her and how she managed to pull off the relocation of this party so quickly. Amanda and many others were praising her all night, which Y/N would only respond by shaking her head and brushing off their kind words. He admires that about her a lot, how she is confident but doesn’t let people’s praises go to her head by any means.

As Y/N is walking across the room to her desk, something catches Harry’s eye. He pauses, double checks that Y/N isn’t watching him, and then leans over to the bulletin board at some random desk. With one swift movement he rips it off and then quickly stuffs it into the pocket of his jacket before he turns around to find Y/N at what he assumes is her desk. It’s a large white desk, up against the floor to ceiling windows, it’s quite the view - but, again, his eyes are only on her.

“Okay, so this one’s for Heidi, and then this one is for her and her husband,” Y/N is rambling aloud as she reaches under her desk for the few last presents she had. The only other one was for Sammy, so she should bring it down with her too to catch him before either of them leaves.

She stands up straight again, putting the presents on the desk when she looks over her shoulder at Harry. He’s staring, which isn’t new, but it still makes her smile and her head to spin knowing that his eyes always seem to be on her. But it’s the mischievous smile across his lips that brings Y/N to a stop, pinching her eyebrows together as she tilts her head to the side.

“What’s with the look?” Y/N asks, getting right to the point.

Harry raises a brow and jokingly says, “what look?”

Y/N just rolls her eyes and hums, pushing her hair over one shoulder as she turns her body towards Harry. She crosses her arms over her chest and Y/N doesn’t miss how his eyes drop to her movements for a split second before meeting her eyes again. She feels like she’s on fire under his stare, the burn so deep within her only blazing when he licks his lips. This is it, this is the moment, Harry thinks before he can second guess himself. He takes a step forward, standing so close to Y/N that the toes of their shoes touch and she has to look up into his piercing stare now.

Y/N notices him reach into his pocket, and then just as quickly, he takes his hand out and holds it above them. She furrows her brows, looking up to see something green between his fingers. Her heart stops, her breath getting caught in her throat as she inspects the item more. But when Harry clears his throat, her attention falls back into him. His beautiful green eyes look a bit nervous, it’s adorable, Y/N thinks.

“Can I kiss you underneath the mistletoe, Y/N?” Harry asks, his voice in that now familiar and warm low tone.

Y/N is pretty sure Harry can hear her heart beating out of her chest right now. She stares back into his eyes, feelings for this man hitting her like a wrecking ball. Y/N has never felt something so strong for someone before. And Harry standing here, holding mistletoe, asking to kiss her, it by far one of the most romantic things ever. Unsure she can find her voice, Y/N settles with nodding her head twice and never letting her eyes fall off Harry’s. His lips turn ever so slightly upwards, smiling, before he takes a deep breath and leans forward and both their eyes flutter shut as the moment they both have dreamt of is becoming a reality.

When their lips finally touch it feels like time itself stops around them. Like no one else or nothing else matters in the world but them in this moment right here. Y/N’s heart hasn’t settled one bit, and her knees feel weak as Harry’s free hand gently touches her hip to steady them both. She tries to ignore the touch and instead focus on how soft his lips feel against hers. The feeling flares the burn she feels around him and only amplifies at how addicting his kiss is.

But it was clear, Y/N and Harry both could never dream up a kiss was perfect as this one. Harry’s pure raw emotion that he feels as he decides to pull back from the kiss, to look at Y/N with his eyes only half open, he just had to make sure he wasn’t imagining any of this. But she’s just as beautiful with her swollen lips and half open dreamy eyes as he had thought.

This time Y/N pulls Harry down by wrapping both arms around his shoulders, nudging his head down to meet her halfway and get lost in their kissing again. Harry now is clenching the plastic mistletoe in one hand while both his hands curl up at her hips. With every second, every smell of her rose perfume filling his nose, he’s sure he’ll wake from this dream at any time. The twisting in both their stomachs don’t settle as the kiss continues, Y/N’s lips parting slightly as she breathes out a small gasp when they both pull each other even closer.

Their bodies are basically molding into one, Y/N’s hair falling into their face as she tugs him even closer if it’s possible. But Harry quickly reacts and brings the hand without the mistletoe up, carding his fingers through her locks and bringing the hair away from their moving lips before he rests his hand on her cheek. The only reason that they both pull apart the second time is because they need air - both their chests are heaving against one another as they struggle to catch their breath.

Y/N could never describe the sensations she was feeling in the fleeting second after their kiss. She opens her eyes, looking at Harry’s chest as it rises and falls in quick motions, before she slowly raises her gaze. There’s a pit in her stomach, feeling a bit nervous to meet his eyes after such a passionate kiss. So she takes her time, her eyes scanning over Harry’s face. His sharp jaw, clenching as he watches her. She smiles at the sight of her red lipstick just faintly smudging against his own lips. Finally, she lifts her eyes and meets his stare.

“Amazing,” Harry breathes out, his breath fanning over her lips.

“Breathtaking, actually,” Y/N corrects him, lifting her lips into a bit of a cheeky smile. Harry huffs out a chuckle and smiles, squeezing her side as he lets his hand drop from her face. He seems like he might step away, but Y/N doesn’t want their little bubble to burst quite yet. So she pouts and rubs her thumb over the side of his neck slowly. “Kiss me again, please,” she says in a soft voice.

“Always, darling,” Harry tells her and brings both his hands up to cup her face, tilting her head back just slightly in order to place his lips over hers again. Their kiss only last for another moment before Y/N gets a sudden prick to her cheek, causing her to break away and furrow her brows.

“What the-?” Y/N pauses as she takes Harry's hand and uses her fingers to pry back his own. A giggle passes her lips as the sight inside his hand. She takes the plastic green leaves and red berries. Rolling her lips into her mouth, she tries to hold back the laughter bubbling inside of her.

“What?” Harry questions, letting Y/N take the mistletoe out of his hand.

“Harry,” she sighs and looks up at him, “this is holly, not mistletoe,” she explains. It’s a common misconception, truly, but it only makes the moment they just had all that more special.

Harry’s cheeks heat up instantly at her words. Pure embarrassment washing over him as he didn’t even realize his mistake. His whole big romantic gesture now in the ruins because they kissed underneath holly not mistletoe. Harry shakes his head and reaches for the holly in Y/N’s hand, but she moves faster and closes her hand around it - not caring that it pokes her palm. He is the one to pull together his eyebrows now, meeting her eyes.

“No, it’s okay,” she admits to him, placing the holly carefully on her desk without looking away from Harry’s eyes. “I don’t care that you made a common mistake, don’t beat yourself up about it,” she says, bringing her free hand to brush against his warm red cheeks. “It was-” she pauses and lets out a deep breath, “you’re perfect, H,” she says.

“No, you are,” he declares, meeting her halfway again to crash their lips together once more.

thanks for reading, please reblog/leave some feedback if you enjoyed it! until part 5 😘

*like this post if you’d like to be added to the cstsyl taglist!*

#harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles series #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #1dff #cstsyl #OK AT FIRST I HATED HOW THIS PART WAS TURNING OUT BUT I ENDED UP SAVING IT??? I THINK?#pls feel free to talk to me about it!! and remember to like and reblog :)

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americasass91 · 3 years

Text

Early Christmas Present

Hello Lovelies! Sorry it has taken me so long to participate in this lovely, lovely challenge! Life has been interesting. But here is my first entry for the #merryhoemas challenge! Thank you for hosting this awesome challenge @amythedvdhoarder @chrissquares @drabblewithfrannybarnes @pumpkin-and-pine @starlightcrystalline

I had so much fun with this! I hope to get more submitted for this! I hope you all enjoy it! It stars everyone’s favorite Murder Sweater Daddy, Ransom!

(Although in my story he didn’t murder anyone)

Also I have something to say. I don’t think there is nearly enough Ransom fics out there with a breeding kink so that’s what this filth is. I’m in a mood okay? I need Ransom to fill me up something bad.

Anyways! I hope you all enjoy this! Best wishes and warmest regards to all!

***Edit*** Had to delete the original and post this again because none of the tags were working. Sorry!

Movie Dialogue/Verbal prompts:

“Looks like Christmas came early, huh?”

Gif Prompt Used: #2

Event/Activity prompts:

Watching Christmas Movies

Wearing Christmas themed PJs or lingerie

Rating: Explicit(Do I even need to put this anymore😜)

Words: 2.9k

Warnings: language, breeding kink, Soft Ransom, unprotected sex(don’t be a fool, wrap that tool)

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You couldn’t help the tears that started welling up in your eyes at the sight of the little pink onesie in your hands. You were currently wrapping a christmas gift for yet another one of your pregnant friends. You feel like that’s all you’ve been doing lately is seeing pregnancy announcements on Facebook and attending baby showers.

It’s something you never thought you wanted. Growing up you just never saw that for yourself. And you were fine with that. But lately you couldn’t help all these feelings you were having.

You couldn’t help but picture what your baby would look like. Maybe your curly hair and your nose. You didn’t really care as long as they got your husband’s beautiful blue eyes.

Your husband. That’s another problem.

You guys had a great marriage, surprisingly full of love and laughs.

The problem was, he didn’t want children either. Like, really didn’t want them. He didn’t have the best upbringing and had never wanted children because of it.

The both of you had this conversation when you were still dating, happy to be on the same page. And at the time you both were. You knew if you brought up wanting a baby it would just upset him. So you’ve been keeping it to yourself for the past few months.

It’s fine, you don’t need a baby to be happy.

“Sweetheart? Where are you?”

The sound of your husband’s voice brought you out of your daydream. You quickly wipe your eyes free of the tears that had gathered and answered that you were in the living room.

He enters and finds you sitting in front of the tree with the onesie still in your hands.

He kneels down beside you and kisses your cheek.

“Another one? Who’s having a baby now?”

You place the onesie in the box and start covering it with tissue paper. “Kate. She just found out yesterday.”

Ransom shakes his head. “Wow. Thank god that’s not us, right?”

He gets up and heads towards the kitchen. He doesn’t see the tear fall down your cheek. “Yeah, thank god.”

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Later that night you find yourself in bed scrolling through social media. You come across another pregnancy announcement. It’s like they were mocking you. You sign out of your account and throw your phone on the bedside table. You decide to just get comfortable under the covers. You’re facing the wall when you feel the bed dip behind you.

Ransom pushes himself up against you and starts kissing your neck and rests his hand on your hip. You start getting lost in the sensation. He knows just what to do with his mouth to get you going.

“God, baby. I need you so bad.”

With that he pushes his erection against your ass.

That somehow triggers something in you.

You turn around and push him onto his back and straddle his hips. You start grinding down against his hard cock, earning you a moan from him.

“Fuck baby. You need me, too?”

You nod. “Yeah, Ran. Need you so bad. Need you to fuck me and fill me up.”

He smacks your ass and grabs your hips, grinding you against him harder.

“Yeah? Need me to fill that pussy, huh?”

You nip at his earlobe. “Yeah. Maybe you’ll fill me up so good, you’ll put a baby in me.”

Ransom seizes all movement and looks at you wide eyed.

“Why the fuck would I want to do that?” He pushes you off of him and promptly stands up, putting space between you. “You know how I feel about kids. You know I don’t want them. And up until just now, I didn’t think you did either!” He throws his hands up in exasperation.

You don’t know what to say. You knew he might be upset. But you didn’t think he’d get mad. So you just sit up and look at your hands in your lap, doing your best to keep the tears at bay.

“I’m sorry, Ran. It’s just, so many of my friends are having babies lately and it got me thinking. I want that with you. Would it be so horrible if we had one?” You looked at him with what you hoped was a pleading look.

He starts walking towards the bathroom. “It would be the absolute worst thing to happen. You need to get back in the mindset you were in before. Because we aren’t having kids. End of discussion. Jesus, Y/N. Way to ruin the fucking mood.” With that he slammed the bathroom door shut, leaving you to your tears.

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It’s been nothing but tense in your house ever since you brought up having a baby a few weeks ago. Christmas was in full swing. It was only a week away now.

You two had been attending Christmas parties together and acting like everything was fine. But that was a different story once you returned home.

Ransom would retreat to your bedroom and you had started sleeping in the guest room. He didn’t ask you to, but you hated sharing a bed with him when he wasn’t speaking to you.

You returned from yet another party and head to the guest room to change into some cute Christmas PJs you had found. They had Rudolph all over them. Including matching fuzzy socks. They were nice and cozy. Something you were in short supply of these days.

You grab a glass of wine from the kitchen and head to the living room. You decide you want to watch Home Alone. One of your all time favorite Christmas movies. Grabbing the blanket from the back of the couch, you wrap yourself up and settle in.

You get to the point where the Wet Bandits are breaking in, when the alarm on your phone goes off, signaling it’s time to take your birth control. Wow. You didn’t realize it was 11 already.

You head upstairs to your shared bedroom. You open the door and tentatively look inside. You don’t see Ransom. He must be in his study. Good.

You hurry across the room to the bathroom. You grab one of the glasses sitting on the counter and fill it enough for you to take your small pill.

Not even looking, you open the medicine cabinet and grab for your packet of pills. Your hand finds the space empty. You look up and find that they aren’t in their usual spot. You open the other sides of the medicine cabinet and nothing. They were just here last night.

You go to turn to look in the guest bathroom and see Ransom standing in the doorframe. You yelp in surprise and grab your chest. “Jesus, Ran. You scared me.”

He uncrosses his arms and saunters towards you. “Sorry, baby girl. I thought you heard me.” He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in for a kiss.

It takes you 5 full seconds to realize your husband is giving you the first attention he has in weeks. You quickly reciprocate the kiss, knowing it could end at any second.

He pushes you against the counter and grounds his hips into you. You can’t help but moan into his mouth at the feeling of his erection pressing into your lower belly.

The both of you finally have to pull away for air. He starts dragging you towards the bedroom. Your wits finally come back to you. “Ran, wait. I need to take my pill.” You turn to grab for it and then remember it wasn’t there. You turn back towards your husband. “Did you move my birth control? I always kept it in the medicine cabinet.”

He just smirks and pulls you up against his body once more. “I threw them out.” He moves back in for a kiss but you push him away and blink up at him. “What? Why would you do that?”

He furrows his brows. “I’m confused. I thought you wanted a baby?”

You shake your head incredulously. “Well yeah….but you made it very clear that you don’t.”

He just shrugged his shoulders. “I changed my mind. Looks like Christmas came early, huh?”

You wiggle out of his grasp and push past him to go back into the bedroom.

“We need to talk about this Ransom. You literally pushed me away the last and only time I’ve brought it up. And then you didn’t talk to me for 2 weeks. This isn’t some kind of situation where you’re giving me what I want only to regret it later is it?” You sit down on the bed and look over at him.

He walks over and sits down beside you. He wraps his right arm around you and places it on your hip to pull you against him. He places his left hand on your thigh and starts gently massaging it. Then he presses his lips against your neck and gives it a kiss.

He pulls away to look at you, giving you a genuine smile. “I’ll admit that at first I was pissed that you brought up a baby. I’ve always been a selfish man and I just didn’t want to share you. But then I had a dream. We were in the hospital and you were giving birth. I remember feeling so happy. I was holding your hand and coaching you through the pain. And then our son was born. And they placed him on your chest. You cradled him against you and started crying tears of happiness. Then you looked over at me and gave me a smile that took my breath away. I’d never seen you so happy. It rivaled the smile you gave me when you walked down the aisle towards me on our wedding day.”

He pauses for a minute and wipes away the tears that you hadn’t even realized were running down your face.

“Then I woke up. I laid there and realized I would do anything in my power to make you smile like that for real. I need to see it, sweetheart. And if that means giving you a baby, then so be it. Nothing makes me happier than seeing you happy. I know it wasn’t originally in our plans, but fuck it. We can make new plans.”

By now there were tears running down both of your faces. You just couldn’t believe what he was saying. You felt like this was your own dream you were going to wake up from.

You both laugh at each other as you wipe away the other’s tears. You then grab his face and pull him in for a kiss. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you as close as he can.

You pull away and give him an evil smirk. “Well then, husband. What are you waiting for?” You lean forward and place your lips next to his ear. “Fuck a baby into me.”

He groans out loud at your words and quickly starts undressing you. You’d never seen him work this fast. You can’t help but let out a chuckle. He stops with his hands on his own pants and looks over your now naked form. “Something tickling your fancy, Mrs. Drysdale?”

You nod your head. “I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you undress us this fast.”

He smirks and continues removing his pants. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on before.”

He then crawls on top of you and begins sucking on your neck. You start whimpering and tug his hair. He pulls away and looks down at you. “No foreplay, Ran. Just need you. Please. Need to feel you.”

He moves his hand down to your folds and finds you drenched. “Jesus, baby girl. You that excited for me to put a baby in you? Yeah you are. Your little cunt needs to be full of my cum, doesn’t it? Greedy girl.”

You grasp a hold of his cock and start pumping him at the pace he’s touching you. He drops his head to your shoulder and groans out your name. “Fuck, sweetheart. You’re gonna make me blow my load before I’m inside you.”

You chuckle and move his cock towards your entrance. “Then fuck me already. What are you waiting for?”

He surprises you and pushes all the way in until your hips are flush against each other. You wrap your legs around his waist instinctually. He leans down for a quick kiss before he raises back up to look at you. “Well, I was trying to bring some romance into the situation. But looks like my little wife doesn’t want that. Just wants to be fucked until she’s full. Right, sweetheart? Until you can’t feel anything else but me inside you.”

Your body shudders at the thought of being so full. You nod your head vigorously and tap your heel against Ransom’s ass, signaling him to move. “Yes! Yes please!”

He smirks and starts thrusting at a slow pace. Slow, but deep. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a needy kiss. He moans into your mouth and starts to pick up the pace of his thrusts.

Then he pulls away and nips at your ear. “God, I can’t wait to see what you look like pregnant. All round and full with my kid. I can barely keep my hands off you now. You might just have to stay in the house and naked your entire pregnancy so I can get my fill anytime I want.”

You clench around his cock at his words. He just smirks into your neck.

“But my little slut would like that, wouldn’t she? Because even though you don’t admit it, you need my cock as much as I need this sweet pussy.”

You can feel the coil in your belly tightening more and more. You know you’re not going to last much longer. His words are sure as fuck not helping.

You unwrap one of your legs from his waist and plant your foot firmly on the bed and start meeting his thrusts with vigor. You can feel his hips starting to stutter. He’s close too.

“Come on, Ran. Fill me up. I want it.”

He leans up until he’s nose to nose with you. “Yeah, baby? I’m gonna fill you up so good and full that your body will have no other option but to get pregnant. Fuck you’re squeezing me so tight.”

He reaches down and starts rubbing circles against your clit. That did it.

You fall off the euphoric edge with a scream of Ransom’s name. You’ve never come this hard. You’re seeing stars.

Feeling you clench around his cock with a vice-like grip is what pushes Ransom over the edge. He paints your walls with his release as he whispers your name over and over until he’s so spent, he almost falls on top of you. He catches himself at the last second and wraps his arms around you before rolling you both onto your sides.

He pulls you in for a sweet kiss. You can’t help but smile into it, still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm.

He pulls back and smiles at you. “Merry Christmas, my sweet girl.”

You beam at him. “Merry Christmas, handsome.”

You tangle your feet with his only to realize you still had your fuzzy socks on. You look down and realize Ransom is in his own pair of fuzzy socks. You start laughing, a whole hearted belly laugh. Ransom follows your gaze and starts laughing himself.

You wipe tears from your eyes and wrap your arms back around his neck. “Eager enough to get me naked but not so eager to lose the socks?” You can’t help but tease him.

He just shrugs and continues chuckling. “Well, you’re always complaining about your feet being cold. I’m just trying to make you happy, dear.”

You both crack up laughing again at that.

Once you both calm down, he places his hand over your belly. “Do you think it took?” He looks up at you hopefully.

You place your hand over his and gaze up at him. “I’m not sure. We should probably keep having sex, you know. Just in case.” You throw him a wink.

He pretends to be offended. “Oh, dammit. I suppose if we have to.”

He pulls you back in for another kiss that is sure to lead you into round 2.

permanent Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @harrysthiccthighss

#merryhoemas #ransom drysdale #ransom x y/n #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom thrombey smut #ransom drysdale x female reader #Chris Evans #chris evans smut #chris evans fanfiction #Cici91 writes

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makeste · 3 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 318: On Your Left

Previously on BnHA: The Hawksquad+Lurkers were all “well this sucks” and sat around a bit talking about how maybe they should actually come up with a new plan that is actually good, but then in the end they were like “nah.” Deku was all, “THERE’S SOMETHING INSIDE ME THAT PULLS BENEATH THE SURFACE!! CONSUMING, CONFUSING!! THIS LACK OF SELF CONTROL I FEAR IS NEVERENDING. IT’S HAUNTING HOW I CANT SEEM TO FIND MYSELF AGAIN. MY WALLS ARE CLOSING IN.” Just, literally that whole entire song. All Might was all “Deku you should take care of yourself, try eating a thing,” and Deku was all “BYE, ALL MIGHT,” and just LEFT. He left!!! What the fuck!!!

Today on BnHA: Endeavor is all, “maybe if Deku didn’t listen to All Might he’ll listen to me instead.” Deku is all, “[doesn’t listen to Endeavor]” because, well, yeah. The Vestiges are all, “surprisingly, even we are a little concerned -- maybe you should get some rest, kid.” Deku is all, “((Ò ‸ Ó)).” The Vestiges are all, “holy shit.” Deku is all, “[wanders the ruined city streets terrifying the populace on account of him looking like Shelob had a baby with one of the Nazgul].” Some shriveled-up puppeteer villain asshole is all, “HORIKOSHI SAID IT’S MY TURN TO ATTACK DEKU TODAY SO I AM GOING TO SUMMON MY FRIGHTENED HELPLESS ATTACK MOB!!” Kacchan is all “WHADDYA MEAN THEY FOUND THE NERD!!! -- oh wait, that’s me, I found him. I found the nerd, you guys.” And just in time, too. I was about to owe a whole lot of people a whole lot of dollars.

so I have been super good about spoilers this week as always, but let me tell you guys, for the past 36 hours my dash filters have basically been nonstop “manga spoilers” this and “bnha 318” that, and so I’m coming in with a fair amount of hype here. your move, Horikoshi

oh, good! they got Endeavor to call Deku to try to talk him out of it. what a great and wonderful plan

“listen up kid, you haven’t slept since March and you are basically a walking biohazard right now, I’m just telling it like it is. didn’t you get shot like three times?? and there was a whole thing about how you urgently needed medical attention?? and supposedly we gave it to you, but I mean you haven’t even changed your clothes and don’t seem to have any fresh bandages or anything, so did we?? did we, really?? and also we all got blown up yesterday, so yeah.” hmm he’s making some reasonable points here you guys, but you sure do go on and on, Endeavor

oh he says foreign aid is finally on its way! I’m sure they’ll be very helpful. I mean in fairness they can hardly be worse than the home-grown heroes at this point

hey Enji, could you maybe try appealing to Deku the sixteen-year-old human boy, as opposed to Deku The World’s Last Hope? he does have value beyond his quirk. I know that’s always been an incredibly difficult concept for you to grasp, but could you maybe TRY, jesus

and also we’re worried about you as a person?? you’re just a kid and you’re pushing yourself way too hard?? you were going to say that part next, right. why the hell didn’t Hawks make this call instead

“don’t worry about me... I’m completely fine” Deku you do understand that saying it over and over again doesn’t actually make it true

and again with the rush!! all the rush rush rush!! we’re running out of time, we can’t let AFO and Tomura keep getting stronger, I have to end this now, there’s no time to rest, etc. etc. etc. just the constant pressure of this whole big countdown on top of everything else

holy shit, you KNOW it’s bad when even the Vestiges are telling him to chill

these guys are basically the walking talking embodiments of self-sacrifice; if even they’re telling him he needs to take five, then he must seriously be like half a step away from death’s door

OH SHIT LMAO

DIDN’T EVEN LET HIM FINISH HIS SENTENCE BEFORE HE SENT HIM INTO THE FUCKING SHADOW REALM WITH THAT FUCKING LOOK. HOLY FUCK. DIDN’T EVEN KNOW IT WAS POSSIBLE TO DIE TWICE. SHIT

(ETA: so I’m pretty sure this was just Danger Sense activating and so he cut them off to go do more hero stuff, but I’m gonna go ahead and stick to my original interpretation anyway lol.)

anyway so how’s everybody doing. we all good? En, you good? Banjou? Shino? I’m imagining you guys all curled up in a little ball on the floor right now lol. can’t say I blame you though, no shame

lmaoooooooooooo

“SHEESH.” sheesh indeed, lmao. “what in the FUCK was that”

see, this is why y’all need Kacchan. you need someone who’s not going to back down from him no matter what. if it’s a matter of out-stubborning Midoriya fucking Izuku, then there’s only one other person on the planet capable of that, and we all know it. don’t pretend like you don’t. I am not going to shut up about this! we’ve had our hurt so now what about SOME COMFORT, DAMMIT

“I’m afraid that he’s becoming influenced by my conscience” nah are you kidding Nana this is all 100% made-in-Japan pure original Deku right here

see, Banjou gets it. “that kid, he’s totally going on his own.” exactly. this was so inevitable it was basically scientific law

“well I for one don’t see the problem with Deku being so obsessed with saving everyone else that he pushes himself until his body and soul literally fall apart” okay, whose speech bubbles are these?? we’re about to have words

lol of course

well you always did prefer the direct route didn’t you. but even you can’t possibly think this is okay lol

dark AU!Kacchan please tell us more about your badass doomed timeline in which everything went to shit and you apparently had the same character arc that Deku is having right now except it somehow made you sexier instead of turning you into a rabid t-rex. I have so many questions

oh so now you want to help??? well -- good, actually. sorry if that sounded offended just now lol

(ETA: so at first when I got to the end of this chapter I was wondering if Katsuki B. had somehow summoned his alternate-universe counterpart through trippy OFA space telepathy lol. but in the original Japanese there’s no reference to “we”, so this appears to be a mistranslation. this line should probably read more like “if there’s something/someone out there that would be able to complement/complete the current Midoriya Izuku [it would be]…” which, oh hello, is that Horikoshi once again reaffirming that Deku and Bakugou complete each other lol. “guess what guys, the Vestiges ship it too" heck yeah. they know what’s up!)

look how admiring his boyfriends are. HORIKOSHI GIVE US THE REST OF THIS BACKSTORY ALREADY GODDAMMIT

“meanwhile somewhere in the depths of the ruined city, Deku was having a dance-off with the villains”

I like how the villains all have this “AHH WHAT THE FUCK” kind of body language to them lol. I mean if it were me, and an eldritch horror suddenly clawed its way from the shadows with its writhing glowy tentacles and pants-shitting nuclear death stare, I would probably just die on the spot. no need to stick around. only pain awaits

lol for a minute I thought this was Can’t Ya See-kun and I was like “WHAT A FASCINATING CROSSING OF PATHS” but it’s just some random girl

he seems genuinely confused lol

Deku it’s because you look like something that crawled out of a sewer drain, sweetheart

lol they just took his word for it?

so trusting. even though they’re immediately hauling ass anyway just to be safe lmao

“my appearance is frightening to others” no shit Deku it’s because you look like a fucking alien exorcism. you look like a Lich that got caught up in an oil spill my dude

NO NOT THE CHOSEN ONE ANGST AGAIN

I RAN OUT OF ESSAY JUICE FOR THIS ALREADY HORIKOSHI!! I’VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT IT FOR MONTHS NOW WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG!! BUT ANYWAYS, GOOD!! I MEAN, BAD, THOUGH, OBVIOUSLY. BUT YES

“ENJOY THIS MONTAGE OF DEKU BATTLING A RANDOM KAIJU AND WANDERING THE WOODS LIKE A DERANGED GREEN BABA YAGA” okay yes but sir, exactly how much longer is this going to go on. if it’s a matter of you wanting to make sure we get it, let me assure you that aside from a few stray chuunis who think that Deku embracing the Darkness is the coolest thing he’s ever done, all of us here in fandom fully comprehend that this is Not Good

-- OH SO IT’S LIKE THAT

really. with the flashbacks to his loved ones’ smiling faces and everything. not even gonna try to aim above the belt, huh

AND NO KACCHAN??! NO CLASSMATES?!?! IS HE PURPOSELY NOT THINKING OF THEM??? OR ARE THEY BEING SAVED FOR THE NEXT PAGE??? SO HELP ME, IF THE NEXT PART OF THIS SENTENCE IS “CAN PROTECT THEM”, OR EVEN WORSE, “CAN SEE THEIR SMILING FACES AGAIN”, I...

WHAT DID I JUST SAY

(ETA: my man did Sero and Kaminari fucking dirty lmao. I miss their smiling faces too omg.)

the sheer, unparalleled irony of him saying this while he stands there looking like the gargoyle demon from Fantasia got crossed with an umbrella that got struck by lightning. Deku :(

oi who the fuck is this clown

is he controlling this mob with his evil hair. “what if I made an exhausted, running-on-fumes Deku battle a brainwashed mob at Ground Zero.” Horikoshi do you just have like a checklist of horrible things you want to do to your protagonist

easy there Sasori

well joke’s on you buddy because he’s apparently “completely fine”, so

“here’s to hoping that you know more about AFO’s location than the others” jesus christ Deku you really have hung your mercy out to dry huh

now he’s forcing his mob of terrified prisoners to attack Deku ahhhh. sucks to be them. at least they’re not being controlled by bees

so Deku is saying that Sasori’s control can be broken with “physical trauma.” similar to Shinsou’s quirk I guess. but so does that mean he’s gonna have to hurt them? ( •﹏•)

NO NOT MORE SAD EYES

“DEATH BY EMPATHY!!!” HORIKOSHI NO

fuck. he looks like he’s on the verge of passing out

this is what happens when you nerf a character’s self-preservation stats in favor of spamming their bone-breaking stats instead. NOW ACCEPTING BRAIN CELL DONATIONS FOR A BOY IN NEED!! with your loving generosity we can hopefully help him live to the ripe old age of seventeen

OMGFGGG

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

[grabs your hands] ლ(*꒪ヮ꒪*)ლ [swings you in a circle] へ(ﾟ◇ﾟへ)

THASSSSSSSS WHATSSSSSSS UPPPPPPPPPP

HORIKOSHI REALLY SAID FUCK THAT MASK (ノ°ο°)ノ YOU FINALLY LEARNED!! IT’S CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT!!!!

JUST FOR YOU KACCHAN, HORIKOSHI LEFT THIS ONE BAD GUY WHO’S STILL WEAK TO FIRE. GOD BLESS

IT’S YOUR COUNTERPART, KATSUKI B!!!! HOW WE DOIN OVER THERE IN THE TRIPPY COSMIC OFA SPACE REALM LOL. DO WE BELIEVE YET, FANDOM???

LIGHTS!!!!

INSTANT RESULTS!!! IT’S SUPER EFFECTIVE!!!

(ETA: imagine what this must look like to Deku though. he’s been caught up in this dark cloud of despair and exhaustion that’s been building up over... I’m gonna go ahead and say “weeks”, because yeah. and now he finds himself here, in the place where All Might’s legacy ended and the torch was passed to him. and the world is in ruins, and he’s surrounded by frightened people who are all trying to hurt him -- because who isn’t trying to hurt him, these days -- and he’s scrambling to figure this all out, but meanwhile the weariness is finally starting to catch up to him, and so he’s basically just standing there in a fog of complete and utter misery.

and then all of a sudden through that haze, he hears the one voice that’s more familiar than any other that he knows. like, I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he thought he was just imagining it at first. Kacchan showing up to save him right when he’s at his most desperate and feeling the most alone. Kacchan, showing up to save him.

this is the person he always looked up to as a child (to be fair he was quite a strange child lmao). the person who was even closer to him than All Might. the person he always thought was amazing. and bam, here he is now. appearing in the sky out of nowhere to one-shot the bad guy with a single blast (which, btw, that was his armor-piercing attack too lmao dslkjlk take it easy there kiddo). like, that must have felt absolutely surreal to him, especially coming at a time when he’s already half-delirious and barely hanging on to reality. he must have really thought that he was losing it there for a second.

but he’s really there. it really is him. and for this brief moment -- before the rest of the situation catches up to him, and he remembers about all of the fucked-up AFO stuff, and remembers why he was so afraid and why he was pushing everyone away -- for just this one brief moment, he’s too exhausted and stunned to do anything except to just react. just stands there, looking up at him in awe.

and you know, it almost reminds me of...

just. you guys. the character development. the freaking character development. someone who brings reassurance. someone who shows up and makes you think, “oh, it’s all going to be okay now, because [person] is here.” the role reversals. the growth. the payoff!! because who is the one person who always had faith that Kacchan would one day grow up to become an amazing hero like that. WHO IS IT. YOU ALREADY KNOW.

omg. anyways, bless you Horikoshi, my feels which have been on backorder since fucking September have finally arrived lmao. yes, good, thank you. worth the wait. it is always, always worth the wait. fuck yeah.)

“LOWFRIES” SO YOU’RE TELLING ME THE WHOLE GANG IS HERE, AHHHHHHHH (º̩̩́⌣º̩̩̀ )

BEAUTIFUL. WONDERFUL. SENSATIONAL. I DON’T EVEN CARE THAT JUMP IS ON BREAK NEXT WEEK. THIS RIGHT HERE WILL SUSTAIN ME

#bnha 318 #midoriya izuku #BAKUGOU KATSUKI #!!!!#twowy mctwoface #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha meta #bakudeku #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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justreadingfics · 4 years

Text

It’s a Deal (Chapter 1)

Chapter Summary: The first encounter.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 5.2k

Warnings:+18 only, smut, one night stand for now, fingering, oral sex (female receiving) sex deprived reader, multiple orgasms, boytoy!Bucky.

A/N: I can’t express how much I appreciate the awesome feedback the prologue received. I wasn’t able to reblog all the comments, but I do read them all and I can’t believe how kind you all are. I really hope I can keep up with your expectations. The link to my masterlist is on my description. Feedback is highly appreciated. @lesqui I love you.

Prologue Here.

“Bucky Barnes?” you squeal after the air got caught in your throat, “You mean The Bucky Barnes?” Leaning forward and lowering your voice, you check if you’ve heard correctly, “Are you out of your freaking mind?”

“You’ve talked to him before, right?” Natasha frowns as if she’s trying to collect the information from her memory.

“Yeah, I mean, I usually see him at the Tower when I go see you and in almost all of Tony’s parties and all. He talked with Eddie and I once, he seemed pretty interested in our work with technology,” you say, remembering the occasion and all the enthusiastic questions he had made, right before disappearing from the party with a beautiful brunette on his arm. It had caught your attention how the super soldier seemed such a tech geek, but that’s the closest interaction you had with him.

“I don’t think your extensive knowledge was his only interest, though.” The smile twisting Nat’s lips can only be described as cheeky.

You side eye her, identifying her suggestions but not quite buying it. She must be going bananas to suggest Bucky Barnes could be the guy to help you with your… situation. You barely know the guy outside sharing the same space a few occasions and what you’ve heard of his public figure. Not to mention that, the times you’d seen him on social events he always had a couple of women on his neck.

“He’s an attractive man, you can’t deny that.” Natasha declares , rolling some pasta on her fork.

“Are you kidding me?” you scoff, “He’s hot as fuck, you can hear the sound of pants dropping when he passes by our department, he just loses to Thor- you should see what happens there when people just hear he’s around.” Your eyes go bigger for a second, making Nat chuckle, “Yeah, Bucky Barnes is fucking hot and that’s why he’s way out of my league.”

“Hmm,” Nat tightens her lips and grabs her glass of water as she leans back on her seat, “That’s not what I heard in his voice when he asked about you this morning.” She peeks at you from under her eyelashes as she drinks from her water.

“What?”

“Well.” She grabs the knapping to pat it over her lips, “I said I was having lunch with you and he asked if you were still dating Eddie… in a very not he’s out of your league way.” She mockingly mimics your voice before smirking at you.

You can feel the rush of heat creeping up from your chest to your neck, but you shake your hand, dismissing the suggestion on her comment, “I’m sure that means nothing and besides, no matter how horny I am, I’m not ready to get romantically involved with anyone else right now, that’s not I want.”

A loud and nearly hysterical laugh bursts out of Natasha’s lips. Placing both her hands on her belly her head falls back. Not finding what you could have said that was so funny you just lift a brown, staring at her.

“Honey,” she says when she finally stops laughing, keeping a huge smile on her lips, “You’re safe with him, I swear.” She raises a hand in a promising gesture, “Romancing you is the last thing on his mind. And if it’s not what you want either, if you’re looking for a no strings attached thing, Bucky will be more than happy to be your boytoy.”

The heat which started on your chest rushes to your cheeks when you let out an embarrassed giggle at her word choice, “Jesus, Nat…”

“That’s the truth,” she assures, “Let me put it this way,” Nat adds, leaning closer and gesturing for you to do the same, “If it’s a good fuck you’re in need of, he’s quite… let’s say…” she purses her lips , searching for the word, “Suitable… for the mission.” She bites her lower lip and winks. “I can guarantee you that.”

Your jaw drops at the confession, “Shut up.” A guttural tone comes out in your voice.

There’s nothing but smugness on her demeanor as she leans back, “A few months ago, he and I needed a distraction after a mission…” She shrugs, “Listen, don’t ever tell him I said that but the guy knows what he’s doing. That sinful tongue of his? Ugh, should be illegal…the best goddamn orgasm I’ve ever had in my life. And he was never weird or anything about it later, I gotta give him that.”

You can’t believe you don’t see a single trace of pink on Nat’s face as she tells you all of that…and you? You have no dignity. No self-control, anymore. You sure hope Nat doesn’t notice as you can’t help but brushing your thighs together. You were a lost cause when she mentioned the illegality of his tongue. That was a particularly hard no of Eddie and so help you God if you’re not turned on as hell right now by just thinking of the possibilities. You’re not blind or stupid. Bucky Barnes would be a dream guy to have in your bed, and if Nat says he might be interested and is on the same page as you are...

“How could we arrange that?” Your voice comes out a little too breathless.

Nat lets out a knowing chuckle, “Leave it to me.”

~~~

When Natasha asked where you wanted to first meet him you mentioned one of your favorite restaurants. You figured a public and neutral place would be fitting in case you decided to flee out of the situation for any given reason. After all, it would be your first encounter with another man other than Eddie after ten years and you thought going slow and gentle with yourself would be the right move.

That’s what you thought…

Now, having the guy in front of you across the table, his attention apparently focused on the menu on his hands looking like a goddamn God of sex… a public place is the last place you wanted to be.

You’re not sure if he notices you staring from above your menu as his eyes casually roam through his, but you don’t even care. You had seen him up close before and you always knew how hot he was, but now… with the prospect of what may happen tonight, it seems like all your senses are enhanced when it comes to him.

He had arrived a bit later than the scheduled time but you let that one go once you got glimpses of a disconcerting wide smile adorned by the five o’clock shadow on his face, which seemed especially designed to make women – and men- swoon. He’s wearing dark jeans and a blue t-shirt and you wonder how he can make the simple outfit so damn sexy. His fairly long hair is tied back in a low bun and you had to hold back the impulse to pull it back and grab a handful of his locks.

When he shook your hand you swallowed back a whine at the feel of his strength, wondering how it would be the feeling of his broad arms around you… by the tiniest of smirks on his lips maybe you’re not sure whether you succeeded in disguising that one.

He’s been a gentleman so far. Making conversation – with the sexiest voice you’ve ever heard- in such a natural and spontaneous way. You’re not sure what Natasha had told him beforehand exactly, but not for a minute he’s made you feel embarrassed by any chance and the scratch inside you only grew… desperate for his touch.

“Hmmm,” The sound coming out of his lips purrs into your ears and it hits straight to your core as he keeps his eyes on the menu. You sulk in a breath, “So many delicious treats…Can’t figure out what I want…” He slowly lifts his gaze to meet yours and you don’t know if it’s your horniness speaking but all you see there is a mischievous dark shade, “What do you want?” He darts his tongue out to wet his lips and that’s it.

“I want to get the hell out of here.” The honest answer comes out without giving you the chance to even think about it.

His eyes grow even darker and he immediately shuts the menu, dropping it on the table, “Your place or mine?”

~~~

The very moment you step into your living room, the boldness which had started to mold your attitude seems to lessen. You’re still horny as ever and still wish nothing but to be completely ruined by him, but the fact that you just brought him to the condo you bought with Eddie – the place where you had planned to live the rest of your life with him - starts to weigh on your shoulders. Besides you’ve never been intimate with anyone else, you don’t even know where to start, what to do or say.

Gulping down the anxiety, you hold the door opened for him and he walks inside. The uber ride to your place had been just like the little time you spent together at the restaurant. Small talk, him being respectful and nice and that’s it. He still feels like a complete stranger to you, which he really is, and you’re not sure how to feel about it yet.

“Uh, do you want something to drink?” you ask passing by him towards the center table to drop your purse, trying not to show your nervousness into your voice, “A glass of wine, maybe?”

Your breath hitches as the heat of his body hovers your back, “Is that what you really want now?” His warm breath tickles your ear and goosebumps rush over your skin.

“Ahm, D-did Natasha tell you about-” The rest of what you were about to say is swallowed by a sigh when you register the touch of his both hands on your hips. A light and simple touch and you can feel yourself already turning into jelly.

“She told me the situation, yeah.” Like he’s testing the waters, he circles his flesh arm around you, pulling you closer to his broad chest when you offer no resistance, “I wouldn’t be here otherwise.” Nuzzling into the crook of your neck he breathes in your scent.

Your head falls backwards into him and your legs shake. You’re incredibly turned on right now, just by the touch and proximity of him, you’re absolutely sure you won’t survive the night.

“Are you nervous?” he asks gently.

“A-A bit yeah.” Your breathing accelerates as his lips graze upon your pulsing point and his hand plays with the fabric of your loose skirt right over your lower belly.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” you answer a little too quickly and a little too loudly, “No…” you repeat yourself, making sure to sound a bit more confident as you place a hand over his and drag it down to the end of your skirt above your thigh. “I don’t want you to stop, Bucky,” you whisper, as you slide his hand under the fabric, bunching it on your way while you guide him to where you’re aching for whatever this night will bring.

Accepting your lead and your assurance, he hooks his hand under the lace of your underwear, coaxing out a gasp out of you as his touch eases between your folds, “Goddammit,” he breathes, softly moving his finger back and forth, “You’re wet already, beautiful. Is it all for me? Damn,” he curses under his breath, “You’re turning me fucking on.”

You answer him with a wanton moan as your eyes flutter shut, letting yourself drown in the expert movements between your legs.

“Try to not overthink anything… I know what you want…” As his finger teases over your clit, he whispers in your ear, “I want it, too.” When he kisses your neck down to your shoulder, you’re thankful for the metal grip on your waist or else you’ll be putty on the floor.

“Shit…” You bite your lip and while one of your hands reach behind to the nape of his neck, the other grabs the pulse of his hand which is leisurely playing with your pussy. Not to stop him, but to find some extra support to keep yourself up.

His chuckle reverberates through the skin of your neck, “Right now here’s what we’re going to do.” He drags his lips to your ear again, “I’m gonna make you cum, sweetheart.” Bucky shows his intention by sliding a finger inside you, holding you tightly when your knees buckle, “I’m gonna take the edge off and make you come on my fingers and then we see what comes next for us tonight.” He pulls you to him, pressing your ass to his hardness, “We don’t need to worry or plan anything… we’ll just let it happen, ok? Can you feel how much I want you tonight, sweetheart? Do you want me, too? Do you want me to make you come?” He punctuates every line by dragging his lips over your skin.

His words make you dizzy with a powerful and overwhelming desire burning you up from inside out… you let yourself sink into the pleasure building up inside your body and your answer is to circle your hips against him, in pace with the move of his finger inside you while his thumb plays with your clit.

“Hmm, that’s right… say it, sweetie, I wanna hear you…” He presses his thumb a little harder against your clit.

“Yes, fuck yes.” you cry, between hard breaths, “I want you to make me come… I want it so bad, please...”

He responds to your plea by quickening his strokes. The disappointment when he removes his middle finger from inside quickly vanishes when he focuses on your clit, working on the sensitive nub with the sole mission to make you come. Your core tightens and tightens and you’re a moaning mess in his hold, his hot breath on your neck making you lightheaded. You’re not gonna last long, and you’re torn between the desperate need to come and trying to focus and hold yourself back because it feels so goddamn good you don’t want it to end just yet. The heat of his body crowds you, making the whole world spin around you. As you moan and breathe out your pleasure, his hold and touch ruling your mind and body, the squelching sounds coming from the move of his fingers on your impossibly wet pussy invades your senses.

“Fuck…listen to you, you’re so damn sexy.” He sucks on your pulsing point before brushing his soft tongue over the tender spot, “Come, sweetie, let go… I wanna feel you soaking my fingers even more.”

It all becomes delightfully too much, and a few more expert circles on your clit joined to the sensation of his teeth grasping your earlobe drive you to the edge. Like a puppet on his strings, you come. You’re not quiet when it happens and your whole body shakes with the shocks of pleasure, your thighs shutting on their own will around his hand. Once again he catches you when your body goes limp against his, whispering praising words to your ear. It’s a head to toe orgasm and it’s heaven inside your body. You realize you needed this even more than you knew…

But you need more and you want much more.

As soon as you feel the strength coming back to your legs, you tap his hand off of your underwear and turn around capturing his mouth in a searing kiss. You’ve been thinking about kissing those beautiful lips ever since you first laid your eyes on him that night and he doesn’t disappoint by kissing you back right away just as fiercely, while his hands roam through your body and his tongue seeks yours.

He starts walking you backwards and you take a hand off his neck to point the direction to your bedroom, to where he follows. He groans when you capture his lower lips between your teeth and grabs a handful of your ass. Dying to wrap your legs around him, you jump and he promptly catches you from under your thighs. It’s hard to think about parting your lips from his alluring ones and you don’t stop kissing him until you’re inside your bedroom and he parts from you, throwing you on your bed.

You yelp at the leap, which is far from delicate, and prop yourself on your elbows, watching as he takes off his shirt and tosses it to the side. It’s already a struggle to breathe but your situation worsens when you see his exposed abs and shoulders and arms and fucking muscular chest… You silently thank the heavens for your friendship with Natasha Romanoff. You can’t help but notice the scars by the metal arm, but he doesn’t seem worry in the slightest by having them exposed and fuck you if the attitude doesn’t turn you on even more.

He doesn’t wait long before jumping back on you. Having your skirt bunched up your hips you gladly welcome him between your legs kissing him with the same force from before and wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. He groans when his tongue brushes against yours and you sigh through his lips as he starts rocking his hips against yours. Even through the fabric of his jeans and the lace of your underwear the touch brings sparks to your core as you feel the evident bulge grinding against you.

The cold of his metal hand hikes under the hem of your top, making the little hairs in your body rise on his way. You part from his lips just to pull up your top and throw it aside. You’re not sure how it happens but in a bat of an eye he reaches behind you and with an expert pull, he unfastens your bra. The piece of underwear is all of a sudden out of you, baring your chest for him.

You gasp in awe for his skills and he smirks, “I really needed to see those titties,” he smiles. When his eyes drop to your chest, he inhales sharply, “Fucking gorgeous.”

You’re sure you had something to say back to him, but the room soon fills up only with sounds of your hard breathing as he wraps his warm mouth around a breast sucking on it harshly. While his tongue curls around your nipple his metal hand gives your other breast some attention, massaging it with the perfect amount of roughness.

Your hips buck into his hips, seeking more friction, to release you from the coiling ache in your core. You do what you’ve been wanting to do all night, pulling the tie from his hair and grabbing a handful of his locks as he ravishes your chest.

After taking his time on your breasts, having his fill of sucking, nibbling and grabbing them, he drags his lips up your neck till it stops on your ear, “What do you want? I’ll do whatever you want...” He offers.

You’re still quite a bit distracted by the rock of his hips against yours to fully register what he’s so sultry whispering in your ear, grazing your hands down the burly muscles on his back. He feels so big, so strong in your arms…

“Tell me, sweetheart, tell me what you want.” he purrs into your ear.

When he offers again, his sinful tongue doing wonders on your neck, a thought sweeps into your mind… By experience, you know men don’t enjoy that very much, but Bucky seems willing to please and odds are you won’t see him again after tonight… Yeah, why the hell not… “I-I want you to-to eat me out.” It blurts out of your lips before any kind of self-consciousness strikes your resolve.

The grinding of his hips halts and you’re already bracing yourself to see his disgusted expression when he moves his lips away from your jaw and leans back to stare down at you. But what you see instead makes your stomach flip in the most delicious way. His blue eyes are impossibly dark and his tongue darts out to lick his lips, like he’s about to eat a delicious treat.

After placing his lips on yours briefly, he makes his descent, showering your chest and stomach with warm and wet opened mouth kisses. Your heart beats fast when an up till now unknown sensation invades your chest, making it tingle with excitement and anticipation. He brushes his nose over the lace of the underwear you’ve specially bought for the occasion, right above your mound. Your breath catches in your throat when he places a long and chaste kiss upon it.

He didn’t really seem to care about your brand new underwear as he’s quick to drag it down. You raise your legs to help him out before he tosses it aside, keeping his eyes on your exposed pussy as he gets down from the bed. You gasp when he pulls your legs bringing you close to edge of the mattress as he sinks on his knees on the floor, hooded eyes on your spread pussy right before his face. This is definitely the most exposed you’ve ever been to a man – your boyfriend of ten years included- and it turns you on even more than it should.

You’re aware of how wet you are, and the smell of your arousal is strong enough to fill your own nostrils... You should be embarrassed, you know you should and definitely thought you would be, to be in a situation like that with a man you barely know, but that’s definitely not the case as enticing, aching sparks twirl inside you.

As you fist the sheets on each side of you, the time seems to freeze as you long for what’s to come. He, on the other hand, doesn’t seem worried about time, as he ghosts his fingers on both your inner thighs. The light touches- one cold the other warm- makes you shudder and… ticklish. You bite back a laugh but it doesn’t slip from his attention.

“Tickles, sweetheart?” He chuckles against the soft skin of our inner thigh, causing his voice to reverberate through your skin, not to mention the light scratch of his stubble and you just can’t hold back anymore.

You cover your mouth with both hands as the giggles slip out unbidden. It seems to amuse him while he keeps sliding his fingers and his lips over the little spots, a sweet torment that makes you laugh harder and squirm your legs.

“Plea- Oh, fuck.” Your voice – and the giggles- die in a gasp and your back arches as he engulfs your whole pussy with his mouth with no warning.

The warm sensation is new and overwhelming and your first reflex is to try and pull away from it but he’s faster, wrapping his arms around your thighs, holding you still to his face. He delves his tongue in caressing your most sensitive parts and it feels soft and wet and silky. It tingles and you struggle to breathe as he meticulously swirls his tongue all over your pussy, spreading your juices around you and himself.

“Holy motherfucker,” you cry out and your eyes flutter shut and you once again arch your body because an intense and new pleasure covers every fiber of your pussy and rushes up your spine. Your fists twist the sheets harder as he swiftly laps at you.

“Hummm,” the vibration makes your whole body tremble before Bucky tilts his head to nibble softly at your inner tigh, “You taste fucking amazing,” he adds, placing your legs over his shoulders.

The praise alone is enough to make you clench around nothing and if you thought it was good so far, after he dives in again it’s with a renewed hunger. He sucks and nibbles and properly fucks you with his tongue and lips, keeping you securely attached to his hold. You’re a mess. Your whole body reacts to the sensations, and you’re loud as you moan and gasp and he keeps your hips steady to his hold.

He swirls his tongue around your clit and you’re there. You’re almost there… your head sinks into the mattress and you dig your fingers into your hair, your ribs moving fast unashamedly grinding on his face at the rhythm of your breathing and you’re fucking there-

“What the-?” you groan, propping yourself on your elbows to look down. You see Bucky staring up at you, your arousal glistening on his jaw as he puts on a malicious smirk.

You’re about to protest about the lack of action but your mouth shuts when he sucks his fingers and brings them to tease your entrance before inserting them at once. The sudden intrusion makes your head fall back as you shout out a moan. You prop your feet – or rather your heels which you still have on- on the mattress, letting your knees up as he curls his fingers inside, as if looking for something.

“Oh, shit,” you curse between harsh breaths when he finds the spot he’s been looking for. The sheet bunches in your fists and your head snaps up at him.

He keeps lustful blue eyes on you as he fucks you harshly and fast with his hand, making sure to brush his fingers right on the spot that makes you scream. Your moans fill up the room, mixing up with the squelching sounds of his hand in your pussy. Your eyes shut when it’s there again, that tight knot twisting your insides, the desperate need of release, to soak his hand once again.

“Oh, shit, I’m gonna cum- No!” you shout when he pulls back his hand. You shoot a look that you’re sure is nothing but pitiful at him, but he doesn’t deprive you for long as his lips are on your pussy again, humming at your taste once more.

His skilled tongue goes back on doing wonders coaxing shocks of pleasure in your core, his face deep into your pussy moving up and down, side to side. You can’t take your eyes off of him as he grabs one of your thighs with his metal hand and you grind your hips against his face, trying so desperately to hush your release.

But he’s in the mood to torture you. A sweet and maddening torment as he brings you to the edge and stops, alternating from fucking you with his fingers and then his tongue. At some point, when you’re already surrendered to his power, with his tongue flickering over your throbbing clit, he brings his flesh hand down his body. Since he’s kneeling by the edge of the bed, you have no vision of it, but you listen to the sound of him unbuckling his belt. His tongue doesn’t stop as he brings his finger to your cunt, coating it in your juices before bringing his hand down again.

Your skin burns and all the air isn’t enough to fill up your lungs as you realize by the movements of his arm that he’s touching himself. He’s getting himself off while eating your pussy and you’re sure you’ve never seen or felt anything so hot in your whole life. You just wish you could get a glimpse of his cock.

With everything he’s doing to you and the fact you’ve been on the edge for a while, the addition of the thought of his cock in his hand is more than you can take and this time it comes unannounced. Incoherent sounds you never knew you were able to produce slip out of you as strong spirals of pleasure burst from your pussy, rushing up your spine and down your legs, curling your toes and turning you into a trembling loud mess, completely at mercy of the buzzing ecstasy invading all of your senses.

“Holy fuck!” Your body jerks up with aftershocks of your climax but he’s not having it and keeps you steady to his hold, licking up your sensitive pussy and rushing up his hand on him, “Oh, shit, oh fuck, shit, shit, shit.” Your mind blacks out and you scream unashamedly and your body collapses to the mattress as he drives you to yet another powerful orgasm with his tongue.

From your blurry vision, you spot his arm jerking even faster and he rests his head on your thigh. With eyes closed and biting his sinful lips- coated in your pleasure- he grunts his own release.

You both stay like that for awhile. You sprawled on your bed relishing in your own little paradise while he rests against your thigh, both trying to calm down your breathing. You’re completely spent, the pant up energy in you being drained by the three outstanding orgasms he had given you that night.

You feel your eyes fluttering, fighting against sleep, and in a blur, you see Bucky getting up and moving around, you don’t fully register what he’s doing but you know he gets in and out of the bathroom a few times, seems to clean the floor with toilet paper and fumbles with his clothes. You roll your numb and contented body to the side, seeking a comfort position to enjoy the full state of bliss you’re in.

“Are you alright?” He gets closer to you, bending over the side of your bed he reaches to cup your cheek and hands you a glass of water. You hadn’t even seen when he went to the kitchen. “Did you have fun?”

A lazy but fulfilled smile spreads in your face as you incline yourself just enough to drink from the water, gulping it down to the last drop, “Oh, yeah…I’m fabulous.” Your heavy eyes drop to his jeans to see it fully clothed and his jeans zipped up. You realize you’re incredibly satisfied and didn’t even get to see his cock or actually do anything per se, “Ahm, do you want to-”

“Shhh, don’t worry...I had an amazing time, tonight,” His voice is gentle and soft, grinning back at you.

To be honest, you’re kinda relieved by his answer. You’re so damn relaxed right now you’re not sure you would have the energy to do anything else, no matter how enticing the thought sounds.

“Do you need anything else?” he asks, taking the empty glass from your hand.

You shake your head, still smiling at him.

“Alright, sweetheart...I’m gonna go then. You rest now and whenever you need me, will you call me?”

“Fuck yeah.” You breathe out, collapsing on the bed again, trying to keep your eyes opened.

He chuckles at your quick answer, “It’s a deal?” He leans over your earlobe and bites softly on it, making you shrug and let out a small giggle.

“It’s a deal.” you murmur back, nodding slowly before dozing off with the lazy smile still on your face.

~~~

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes fanfiction #toyboy!bucky #smut #it's a deal

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feral-dumbass · 4 years

Text

Neon Angels on the Road to Ruin

James “Bucky” Barnes/ Steve Rogers / Female Reader

Summary: Bucky is on the phone with Steve when he decides he has to have you now.

Includes: Exhibitionism (???), Polyamorous relationship, Masturbation, Unprotected Sex, Overstimulation, Dom/ Sub undertones, Talk of oral, The stealth suit

Words: 2,008

A/N: Hi! The only thing I love more than super soldiers is women in rock, so let’s pretend to be surprised that this my second fic with title credit to The Runaways. As always tagging the homies @babybluestan @gagmebucky @heresyoursnackdumbass

LMK if you guys still want a tag list!

Masterlist

“Mhmm… Pfft, everyone knows to ambush at night. Where did these rookies come from?” Bucky speaks to Steve on the phone as he looks over reports. Steve was currently ranting about how quickly the mission with new recruits went south. Bucky wanted to be a good boyfriend and help Steve out as the reports started piling up. Man, is Bucky happy he’s helping Steve. Steve is making the recruits sound like dumbasses. It’s a shame Bucky will have to put them through the wringer come Monday.

Bucky has had to reread Clint’s shitty sentence twice while Steve rants. He can feel his brain cells deteriorating as he tries to read the report. He’s passed multiple stick figure drawings and that was just the first page.

Commotion from you allows Bucky to move his eyes away from the eyesore. You take a break from typing away on your computer to scratch your bare thigh. Even after you hand leaves the spot where the hem of Bucky’s t-shirt is touching your thigh, his eyes are boring holes into it. You’re sitting sideways in Steve’s reading chair, bare legs thrown over the armrest. Your soft, smooth legs shine under the light and Bucky’s hand twitches. He can practically feel your thighs underneath his hands as he spreads your legs. Not like he wasn’t just between them like an hour ago.

Memories of you coming on his cock fill his brain as blood rushes south. He moves up to your face. You’re biting your lip in concentration as you type out a scientific article. They’re still slightly swollen from Bucky. It’s not Bucky’s fault you’re a really good kisser and he just wants to kiss you 24/7.

With the sight of the wide collar of his shirt displaying previous hickeys and little bit of your cleavage, Bucky’s ripping out a page of Clint’s report. It was shitty. Steve was gonna make him redo it anyways. He balls up the piece of paper and throws it at you as Steve continues his star spangled rant in his ear.

Everyone knows Bucky’s aim is good. He hits you right on your forehead with it. You turn to glare at him. As you blink slowly at him, he points down to his crotch. You scoff and laugh at him. Bucky moves and cups the phone away from his mouth.

“Come hop on this dick.” Maybe Bucky said something wrong because you go back to your computer. “Please.” He tries giving his best puppy dog look, wide eyes and mouth turned into a pout. If it works on Steve, it should work on you.

“Oh my god,” Bucky‘s heart flutters as you laugh when you speak. ”I’m saving my work. Give me a minute.”

“What was that, Buck?” Steve has stopped his rant to ask Bucky a question.

“Oh, she was just checking on the spelling of adamantium.” Bucky doesn’t take his eyes off you as you shut your laptop and stand up, putting the computer in your seat. You stretch out your arms and your underwear is on full display for him.

“Oh,” is all Steve says before going back to his rant. You walk over to Bucky, hips swaying side to side. Bucky is hastily putting Steve on speaker and setting his phone on the mahogany desk. He takes your hand and pulls you on his lap. You throw your arms over Bucky’s shoulders and give him a sweet kiss as he rubs your back. His hand is slowly pushing up the shirt up your back so he can make more skin contact.

“He’s really going on a rant, isn’t he?” You speak lowly and glance back at Bucky’s phone. Bucky takes your chin between his fingers and turns you to face him.

“Ignore him.” Bucky kisses you senselessly. It doesn’t take him long to deepen the kiss, tongue swiping out to invade your mouth. You moan as his other hand moves to play with the hem of your panties.

“You guys know I can hear you, right? You’re making out as I tell Bucky about the worst few days of my life. Unbelievable.” Bucky breaks away from you to reply and you trail after his lips. He smirks as he talks.

“ ‘M sorry, Stevie. You should see our sweet girl right now. Been walking around in my t-shirt with no pants for the past hour. All her hickeys are on display. She looks extra kissable too. Bet she’s even already wet, again, too. Are you wet for me, sweetheart?” Your eyes are stuck on Bucky’s lips, watching the way they move as he speaks. You nod. “Gotta speak up, babe. Stevie’s gotta hear too.”

“Y-yes. I’m wet. I think Bucky should feel for himself, though.” You grab his metal hand and slide it into the front of your underwear. Bucky reaches further down to where you ache for him.

At the feel of your sopping folds as he slides his fingers through the mess between your thighs, Bucky groans out. “She definitely wasn’t lying.” Bucky kneads your sex harder and your breath hitches.

Steve inhales and exhales loudly through the phone. “I hate you. I hate you both. You’re killing me.”

“What do you say doll? Want to kill him even more and let him hear me wreck that sweet pussy even more?” Butterflies rumble in your stomach. Even if Bucky wasn’t going to fuck yoou, you were going to ride his thigh. You find yourself nodding your head adamantly through the pleasure as Steve speaks.

“I can’t believe I’m asking, but even more? What do you mean?” Steve’s brain is definitely fried from dealing with everyone’s bullshit.

“It was rare for me to be out of this tight, little cunt. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” As Bucky talks, he’s sliding his two of his fingers inside of you and finding those sensitive spots inside of you.

“B-Bucky, please.” You whimper as he pumps his fingers expertly. Bucky isn’t lying. He’s fucked you until you’re overworked and sensitive. It doesn’t take much to start to feel the rise of your orgasm.

“What’s wrong, babygirl?” His metal thumb circles your clit. “You gonna be a good slut and cum for me and Steve? You know what? Why don’t you ask Steve if you can cum?”

“Steve, please. P-please, can I come?” No hesitation as you start to beg.

“Let her cum, Buck.” Bucky doubles his effort, pumping his fingers at faster speed. You hold onto his bicep for dear life, nails digging crescent shapes as your muscles tense. You reach your peak.

“FUCK!” You curse in between breathy moans. Bucky lets you ride out your orgasm before he slips his fingers out of you and into his mouth. He takes his fingers out with a pop, loud enough for Steve to hear.

“How does she taste?”

“Like fucking candy.” Steve is groaning and a door slamming in the background breaks the trance between you and Bucky.

“I hope you guys are happy. I’m gonna jerk it out in a supply closet like some kind of creep because you two couldn’t wait twenty fucking minutes to stop fucking like bunnies.”

“Well, you head the Captain. Let’s give him something good to listen to. C’mon and fuck me.” You look at Bucky expectantingly.

“Fuck.” Bucky’s groaning as he sets you on your feet. Before you can blink, he’s yanking his shirt off you and standing up to his full height. You only have a few seconds to look up at him before he’s turning you around and picking you up by the waist to roughly place on Steve’s desk. Your feet barely graze the ground with your breasts against the cool wood. Bucky doesn’t make you wait for long. Before you can process it, Bucky is moving your underwear to the side and sliding his cock into you. You’ve had his cock enough this weekend. He doesn’t let you adjust just starts off at a brutal pace that’s already making you see stars. The smacking of your skin echoes through the room. You have no doubt it carries through the phone.

“S-steve.”

He moans at how wrecked you sound already. “Yeah, baby? Bucky making you feel good?”

“So good.” You whimper. Your back arches as you scramble to get a hold of the smooth surface of the desk. Bucky notices and takes your hand down to reach his thigh. Your fingers dig into his skin. You can feel his muscles contract underneath your fingertips as he thrusts into you. “So fucking good, Bucky.” Even with your ears ringing, you’re able to hear the tell tale signs of skin slapping skin on Steve’s line. Bucky is too focused on your praise to make fun of him for it, thrusting into you with vigor. He tugs on your hips so you’re hanging more off the table. You whimper out as Bucky reaches around you for your clit, rubbing in fast circles.

“Jesus Christ, you sound so pretty. I wish I was there.”

“What would you do, Stevie?” Bucky pants as he speaks. “It sure would be great if you were here to take her mouth. The wet heat of her mouth is almost as good as her pussy. She can barely deepthroat your massive cock. It’d be a great show.” Bucky’s palm smacks down on your ass cheek. It’s almost as if he knows your mouth is watering at the thought.

“Bucky!” Your hips buck at the stinging feeling of metal.

“You’re the biggest fucking tease, Bucky. I should put your mouth to good use.” Bucky’s thrusts falter for a few seconds before his pace picks back up. Well, Bucky definitely wants his mouth used like a whore and you can’t really blame him. There’s something special in letting Captain America facefuck you, firm grip on the back of your head as he makes you take as much of his length as you can.

The thought has your orgasm approaching quicker than you thought as drool starts to pool on the desk. The sight of your muscles tensing and the feel of your nails digging harder into his thigh has Bucky doubling his efforts, angling to hit your sensitive depths with every thrust and rubbing your clit even faster.

“Cum for us. Remind Steve how pretty you sound when you cum.”

“Cum for us, angel. Be a good girl.”

With the sound of both of your boyfriends begging in low, deep voices for release, your orgasm overcomes you rather quickly. Your breathy moans fill the room as you pant. Your legs are so shaking so hard, Bucky has to make sure you don’t fall off the desk as he fucks you through your orgasm. You can barely make out Steve groaning into the phone as you moan out his name.

When you manage to catch your breath over the oversensitivity Bucky is putting you through, a mischievous grin spreads across your face as he thrusts get sloppy. “You close, Bucky? I think you should ask Stevie if you can cum.”

“You heard the woman.”

“Steve, I swear to fucking God if you don’t let me cum-”

“Nicer.”

“Please, can I cum?”

“I think you know what I’m looking for, Bucky.”

“Please, can I cum, sir?”

“See that wasn’t so hard. Go ahead.” With his permission, you can feel Bucky spill his warmth as you whimper. His groaning sends shivers down your spine as he roughly yanks your hips to meet cock in the last few thrusts.

Everyone takes a few minutes to catch their breath before Steve is speaking out again. “The weirdest fucking part about this is that I haven’t had time to switch out of my stealth suit.” A moan slips out of your mouth on accident as you clench down on Bucky.

“Jesus Christ.”

“Did she just-”

“Yep.”

“I want you both naked waiting for me on our bed. 15 minutes. Try not to fuck each others brains by then.” Steve abruptly hangs up after that leaving you and Bucky to scramble to the bedroom.

523 notes · View notes

drcalmreid · 3 years

Text

friends - s.r. (pt. 2/2)

pairing: spencer reid x female reader

summary: pure angst - friends with benefits always ends up with one person scorn out of jealousy...and in this case, it’s spencer. especially when he sees you flirting with one of his BAU partners. (pt. 2/2)

content warning: consumption of alcohol, indication of sex (no smut!), mention of narcotics/psychological disorders

word count: 5.1k // part one

authors notes: yall know the drill….lyrics = indicate a flashback!! Make sure you read part 1 first! :)

YOUR POV

“JJ, will you get a look at these two…I don’t know which one I’m in love with more.” Penelope squeals, bouncing back and forth on her neon pink heels. I roll my eyes and give her a playful shove, but continue dancing near Luke. Luke smiles his model-status grin and moves to the music pulsing through the bar.

“Jesus, Pen! How much have you drank?” JJ smiles as she reaches the dancefloor yet again. I look over JJ’s shoulder to see Reid, blank stare locked on the dance floor, his fingers swirling around in the condensation on the table. Spencer blinks quickly as our eyes meet and he shakes his head, looking down again at the table.

“How much I have drank is irrelevant,” Penelope yells over the music and takes another sip from her half-filled drink, most of which has ended up on the dance floor.

“I think it's pretty relevant,” Emily chuckles, as Tara smiles in agreeance.

“I mean, c’mon! Look at them!” She raises a finger at Alvez and I, but I shake my head at her attempts to play cupid. I spin to face Luke and pull him closer to me, “Wanna give her a show?” He tilts his head, processing my words as I smile at him.

“(y/n),” Luke grins. “I’m extremely uncoordinated. I’m barely dancing as is.”

“I think you’re doing just fine,” I say, wrapping my arm around him. The alcohol in my system, anger, confusion, and overall emotions combine and push my confidence to an absurd level. I feel as if I’m watching myself from the outside as I dance with Luke. He throws his head back in a smooth laugh as I spin against him. I move my hips steadily and lead Luke’s hands around my waist; I rest my head on his chest as our bodies sync to one another.

“Oh my god, they’re really going for it.” Tara gawks through laughs and Emily throws invisible dollars in our direction. Penelope fans herself as if it will cool her down as JJ raises her eyebrows and chews on the end of her straw, casually trying to look over her shoulder at our table, but I know she’s watching Spencer. I just can’t let him in, I can’t. I did that once and I ruined everything. I still don’t even know how, but I did. So if I keep dancing, keep drinking, keep moving, I won’t be able to stop and think. And rethink. And think again and again, replaying every memory of the time I spent with Spencer. My hazey eyes lift from the grimy club floor just in time to see Spencer bolt up from the booth and out the bar doors.

All of your friends have been here for too long

They must be waiting for you to move on

“I love you,” the words slip out of my mouth like silk and I shoot my eyes open in the dark hotel room. Fuck. My sleep deprivation and mental exhaustion have made me become a love-struck puddle in his arms. “Spencer,” I whisper among the darkness, but there’s no answer. Thank God. Of course I love Spencer. I always have. The last four months have been some of the best of my life, but we both agreed that we wouldn’t place pressure on ourselves and keep everything private...but private means bottled up, and my bottle’s full. Hell, it’s overflowing. We’ve spent endless nights together, limbs tangled together, Spencer’s finger combing through my hair, or my hands running through his curls as he lays on my chest, his fingers tracing my sides. Tonight, Spencer breathes heavily beside me as sleep consumes him. More times than not Spencer falls asleep before I do, and I can’t help but think he’s able to because we’re together and finally comfortable and peaceful after the most physically and mentally draining days. Spencer releases a long breath and squeezes me tighter, as if I’m going to slip out of his grip and he’ll never hold me like this again.

The morning comes sooner than I’d hoped as I open my eyes to an empty bed and bright sun rays pouring through the cheap hotel curtains. I rub my face with my palm as my words come back to me. They echo in my head, bouncing off the inside of my skull...I love you, I love you, I love you. I realize now that I said it because I truly do love him, but admitting that to myself (let alone Spencer) complicates our non-relationship relationship even more than I thought possible. So, instead I shake my limbs and stand from the bed, shoving the memory of last night into a new bottle of emotions. “Spence?” I call out into the room, but there’s only silence on the other end. I walk in and out of the bathroom to no sign of the Doctor before I spot the hotel notepad on the side table. “Went in early to see if I could get some more files from the local PD, trying a new perspective. Didn’t want to wake you. -Dr. Spencer Reid”. I put down the cheap notepad and chuckle at his signature, even signing a note for his friend is formal and properly scripted...typical. I pull on my usual clothes for a long day of profiling and step out into the hotel hallway.

“Morning,” a voice chirps from behind me.

“Jesus! Luke!” I say startled and swat his chest. “Scared the shit out of me. You’re lucky I didn’t pull my gun on you.”

“Eh,” he pulls on the strap of his bag as we walk towards the elevators. “I would have been fine.”

“Oh your ego is that big that you think you’d survive a shot to the chest?”

“No no no, I didn’t say that,” he smiles as the elevator doors slide open. “I just know you’re an awful shot.”

“Oh fuck you,” I chuckle and slap his arm. He grins at me with a cocky look but doesn’t say anything else. The elevator glides downstairs and opens again in the lobby. The two of us climb into the BAU’s black SUV and head back to the local offices for the rest of our long day.

Once we arrive, I spot Spencer instantly as he sits cross legged on a wide wooden folding table. Files and folders are scattered across all parts of the floor as well as his lap as he stares ahead at the whiteboard in front of him. He glances down a few times, scanning over the pages he has, but turns his head in our direction as soon as Luke and I approach the room.

“After you,” Luke winks as he holds the door open for me. I roll my eyes at him but walk through the door into the glass-walled conference room. “What? No, thank you?”

“Nope,” I say as I sit down at the table, opening up my bag. “Not after you insulted me this morning.”

Spencer sits up straighter as if his body involuntarily responded to my words.

“(Y/n), I would never insult you,” Luke says as he takes the chair next to me. “I like you too much.”

Spencer clears his throat and keeps his eyes fixed straight ahead, but I know he’s listening.

“Besides,” Luke leans down to whisper in my ear. “It’s a lot more fun to mess with you.”

“I’m going to get a coffee, you guys want anything?” Spencer says abruptly and hops off the edge of the table, but he’s out the door before we can even answer.

“Morning to you too,” I comment as the door slams closed.

[Boy], I'm not with it I'm way too far gone

I'm not ready, eyes heavy now

“Spence?” I choke out as I watch him lean against the brick wall. His tie is mangled in his hands as his chest rises and falls quicker than normal. “Are you okay? I saw you run out, I-”

“I’m fine, (y/n).” He spits back at me.

“Are you sure?”

“I said I’m fine.”

“Alright, well if you’re fine, then I’ll leave you,”

“Do you like him?...Luke. Do you like Luke?”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean- it seems like you do.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, you- you just were dancing and-”

“Oh my god. You’re jealous. Spencer, seriously?”

“I’m sorry that I can’t see you with other guys, it’s not fair for me to watch that. I can’t, (y/n).”

“Well...that’s not really my problem is it? You told me to, let’s see...how did you put it?” I glance up at the sky as if I’m trying to remember the exact words he used, but it’s all for show. I’ll never forget his words. They’re branded into me like a filthy scar on my heart. So I swallow my pride and turn the words right back at him, “ ‘Get over my feelings because we’re not together’? I believe that’s what you said.”

“(y/n), I-”

“Spencer, please just don’t say anything else. You’ve said enough. Just so we’re clear. None of this is fair, and I can dance with whoever I want.”

I step inside the bar yet again and practically sprint back to the group, desperately searching for the team. Luke spots me first and rushes towards me.

“Hey, hey,” he grabs both of my arms and squats down to get to my eyeline as I stare down at the floor. I try my best to push back the tears building up, but they’re becoming too much. “Are you okay?”

“I have to get out of here.”

“What did he say to you?” Luke gently asks.

“Nothing,” I mumble and wipe my eye with the back of my hand. “I just, I just need to go.”

“Okay,” he rubs my arms. “Let’s get you out of here.”

The next thing I know, I’m placed inside Luke’s car as he clips my seatbelt and I stare straight ahead, completely numb from everything. Tears continue to roll down my cheeks as Luke drives in silence. He coughs for a split second before turning to look at me, “I was going to drop you off at home, but I don’t want to leave you like this.”

“What do you mean like this?” I bite back and wipe my eyes with the edges of my fingers. “Shit, sorry Luke, I didn’t mean that.” I laugh and look at my mascara covered hands. “Obviously you meant like this,” I say gesturing towards my awful appearance. Luke chuckles lightly and glances over at me quickly before fixing his eyes back to the road.

“C’mon let’s go to my place first and then I’ll drop you off later.”

Normally I respond with some sarcastic comment and insist on going home, but honestly I’m too drained to even fight. So I nod slowly and stare out the window watching the passing cars.

Wish you'd let me stay, I'm ready now

I'm not ready, eyes heavy now

The elevator door chimes and opens itself into the BAU offices. We all step out of the elevator calling out goodbyes for the night. Spencer heads towards his desk, as I follow closely behind. Ever since Luke and I came into the local PD offices two days ago, he’s been different. Spencer stayed in his own room our last night at the hotel, claiming he “fell asleep reading” but I know he was lying. Quickly, I pack my things into my go bag and get ready to leave, my own bed calling my name. I glance around and spot my teammates scattered across the bullpen: Penelope back in her bat-cave, Luke’s got his head down in a stack of files, Tara and JJ headed directly out the door headed home, Emily climbing the stairs to her office with Rossi shortly behind.

I inch closer to Spencer’s desk casually and lean against it to whisper to him, “hey”

“Hi.” He responds, keeping his eyes down on the book in front of him. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of the damn thing since we got on the plane. He was so enchanted by this book that he sat down opposite to me on the plane, rather than side-by-side. He just seems so….off. I can’t figure out what it is exactly, but he’s not the same. All our small gestures are gone—and I don’t want to overreact because it’s only been two days, but Spencer isn’t like this.

“Did you want to grab dinner? I’m starving,” I smile, trying my best to lighten the mood.

“Not hungry,” he coolly responds, with his head still down.

“Well, I am...so you—”

“So go get dinner, (y/n). Seems like a pretty simple answer.”

“I was waiting for you,” I say and he rolls his eyes, but doesn’t respond. I stand next to his desk awkwardly for a moment before Luke breaks my attention away. He shuffles all his things into his bag and slings it over his shoulder, “g’night guys.”

“Night, Luke,” I smile and he exits the office. Spencer releases a stifled groan and tries to cover it with a cough.

“What was that for?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at him. Spencer finally looks up from his book and shrugs. “Spencer, what?” I ask again and he frowns slightly, turning back down to his pages again. I shake my head at him and grab my bag from the edge of his desk and pull it over my shoulder.

“Goodnight, Spencer.” I say calmly and walk past his desk but he doesn’t respond, again. I can’t help myself and I actually chuckle at him, “seriously? You’re ignoring me now? What did I do? Did I do something?”

“Nope,” he sternly answers.

“Then why wont you talk to me?”

“We’re talking now,” he says, looking up from his desk. Our eyes meet and lock on one another. Neither of us break away from the stare as the tension rises between us.

“That’s not what I meant,” I whisper through gritted teeth. He shrugs again, his eyes unwavering from mine.

“Spencer, what the hell has gotten into you? You barely talked to me the rest of the case and on the jet. We usually talk after rough cases like this to check on each other.”

“Well I’m not your boyfriend, you made that abundantly clear, so I don't really need to keep tabs on you, do I?” Spencer snaps, standing up from his desk chair.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I ask, shaking my head.

“Nothing- I just, we can’t do this anymore,” he rubs his face with his hands and gathers his books off the desk. He walks away from his desk, leaving me standing there stunned. He leaves the bullpen and presses the door to the elevator. The doors slide open and he steps inside. Without a second thought, I run through the office and into the elevator just in time.

“(Y/n), please.” He sighs, while pressing the down button.

“Spencer, just talk to me—”

“(Y/n), we can’t do this anymore because I don’t have feelings for you.”

“What? No—” I shake my head in complete shock and denial. I feel tears forming in my eyes, but I push them away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

“We’re not on the same page….and I can’t control how you feel but, you need to get over your feelings because we’re not together. This doesn’t work between us, (y/n). Let it go,” Spencer says looking straight ahead as the doors slide open again and he exits through them.

All of your friends have been here for too long

They must be waiting for you to move on

[Boy], I'm not with it I'm way too far gone

I'm not ready, eyes heavy now

“Luke, I’m not telling you what he said!” I protest, sitting cross legged on his couch. I throw a piece of popcorn into my mouth and then toss another in Luke’s direction.

“C’mon (y/n),” he sighs, stretching out his legs across my lap on the couch. “You and I both know how stubborn I am. I’m not giving up, what did Reid say? Do I need to kick his ass?”

“You, Luke Alvez, are the worst,” I laugh at him. “But, I’ll tell you because...well I’m still a little drunk so what the hell.” I sigh and tell him about everything. The details and stories pour out of me as Luke rests his head on his palm watching me talk. He doesn’t say anything, just listens.

“So,” I take a deep breath. “Now you’re caught up. God….Penelope’s gonna kill me when she finds out you know about Reid and I before her.”

He smiles and sits up on the couch, “listen (y/n), I know he’s a textbook genius, but Reid is an idiot. If he doesn’t realize how perfect the two of you are together and how much he loves you then any statistic he knows is useless. You’re too good, for him to be acting like this.”

“Wow,” I grin at him and give him a playful shove. “Look who’s getting sentimental!”

“Alright, forget I said it!” Luke stands up from the couch, throwing his hands up in defeat.

“Morning sleepy head,” Luke says, passing me a premade smoothie.

“Shit,” I sit up from the couch and blink my eyes harshly. “I can’t believe I slept here. Sorry, I’m the worst-”

“Hey,” Luke cuts me off. “Stop doing that. You’re fine. I was going to offer you the bed anyway, but you passed out before the movie ended.”

“Thank you, I mean seriously. All jokes aside,” I stand from the couch. “I’m glad you were there.”

“Me too,” he smiles. “Look, I’m not kicking you out either, but do you need a ride home?”

“Shit,” I shake my head. “Penelope and Emily drove me. My keys are at the BAU.”

“So we’ll stop there first.” He grabs his keys off the entrance table.

“Seriously, Luke,” I reach out and hug him around the waist. “Thank you.”

“So you and Reid…” Luke turns into the BAU parking garage. I shush him and he laughs lightly. “Four months?”

“Four months.” I nod while giving a weak smile.

“And you loved him?” He asks quietly, as if not to scare me.

“Yeah,” I turn to look at him. “I thought I did, but I don’t- I don’t know anymore.” Luke nods again as he pulls into his assigned spot. I open the car door and step on the pavement. The garage is empty besides a few chief cars and our footsteps echo off the walls. It’s a Saturday morning and no one dares to come into the offices unless directly called to...even the FBI needs a weekend sometimes. We walk quietly together through the empty lot and into the section of the building where our offices are located. Luke and I scan our badges and follow the normal protocol just to get inside.

“You really didn’t have to come with me.” I say to Luke as we climb the stairs. “I do work here, I think I would have been okay.”

“And missed you hungover trying to walk up these stairs? No way,” he smirks and continues up the steps. The rest of the time we climb up the stairs I focus solely on trying my best not to think about how awful I feel — both mentally and physically. My head is spinning from the combination of last night's drinks and Spencer. Fuck, I miss him. Luke snaps me out of my own head when he opens the stairwell door, “You ever think you’re going to talk to him again?”

“I mean we work together-”

“No no,” he laughs. “I meant talk to him, yknow,” Luke raises his eyebrows suggestively with a smirk.

“Why do I tell you things?”

“Because you love me,” Luke sings as he opens the door to our bullpen and we walk through it. I turn back to him and shove his arms.

“Luke, if you don’t stop,” I say as we enter the BAU. I scan the empty desks looking for mine when my eyes rest on a slumped over figure on the desk...not just the desk, but Spencer’s desk. “Oh my god, Spence.”

Heart on your sleeve like you've never been loved

Running in circles, now look what you've done

Give you my word as you take it and run

“Oh my god Spence,” the words tumble out of my mouth before I even realize I’m talking. Spencer turns to face me as I begin talking and his eyes shift between Luke and I. Spencer takes a deep breath in and spins around again in his chair, his back facing us. I clear my throat and scan the room for my keys, and there they sit on the edge of my desk across from Spencer. I shake my head at him and Luke lends down, “you sure you’re gonna be okay?” I smile and give him a weak nod, and Luke responds, “I’ll leave you two.”

“Thanks for everything,” I whisper to him and Spencer’s shoulders tense. Luke leaves the office through the glass doors and silence settles between Spencer and I. I sigh gently and make my way across the room to my desk. Spencer keeps his head down in some files as I reach my desk and grab my keys.

“Walk of shame?” Spencer mumbles, still looking down.

“What did you just say?” I ask feeling the anger build in me.

“I mean,” he snickers. He turns a pen over between his fingers, moving the pen back and forth. “That’s what you’re doing right?”

“You’re ridiculous,” I huff and grab my keys from the table top. Don’t give in to him. I remind myself as I close my eyes and take a deep breath before headed towards the doors. “Have a nice weekend, Spencer.”

“You’re just going to ignore me?” Spencer spins in his chair.

“Easier than having this conversation,” I snap at him.

“So you’re just leaving?” He asks, standing up from the desk.

“No,” I retort. “That’s your job. I’m just going home.”

“Home? Or Luke’s home?” He tilts his head to the side and crosses his arms.

“Are you fucking kidding me…” I shake my head and step away from the doors, getting closer to him. “I didn’t sleep with Luke.” Spencer blinks slowly and swallows hard, but I continue, “and even if I did, why the hell does it matter? We’re not together, so who cares, right?” I practically laugh and cross my arms over my chest. Spencer leans back as if my words physically hit him in the chest. I turn around again, focused on the exit and getting the hell out of here.

“I do.”

“Yeah? And why do you care?” I yell, whipping around to face him.

Spencer runs his hands through his hair and screams, “Because I’m falling in love with you and I can’t stop it!”

Wish you'd let me stay, I'm ready now

I'm not ready, eyes heavy now

SPENCERS POV

Love is never what you picture it to be. It’s messy, unpredictable, and hurts like hell. “We accept the love we think we deserve,” Stephen Chbosky once said...and I wish I did not agree with it. The exact moment I realized I was in love with (y/n) took me by surprise, I didn’t even realize what it was at first. I just always believed I wasn’t deserving of love—and no matter where I found it, ultimately it would all be a taunt before I was stripped of it. I realized I loved her on a flight home from a case in Dallas. The unsub was a young male with psychological disorders who was regularly using different narcotics to subdue his victims. Everyone on the case was hyper-sensitive of my relation to the case—Emily even offered for me to stay back home, but against my better judgement I got on the plane. Eventually, the case came to a close fairly quickly (as most do), but not without constant questions and repeated: “you okay?”’s from the rest of my team. Of course I wasn’t okay. (Y/n) and I followed our same routine as we always have for cases; I sneak into her room or she sneaks into mine, we bring each other food and coffee, steal longing glances at one another during profiles. and are just there for the other person. She didn’t ask or pry into my past about my emotions, she just listens to what I have to say and nods along calmly. She even reaches for my leg and hand under the table during a deep discussion of dilaudid, but her eyes never strayed from her papers or whoever was talking. She didn’t want to draw attention to me, but also didn’t want me forgotten. She made me feel normal. Unbroken. Deserving of love. On the flight home she sat down next to me and didn’t ask the baseless question, “are you okay?” instead she just said: “I’m so proud of you.” My heart nearly fell out of my chest when she said it. I didn’t realize the effect she had or the gravity of her words until she said them. I love her. When we finally landed back home, I wanted nothing more than to go to bed holding her and tell her I’m going to protect her from the world and it’s cruel intentions. But I couldn’t. Everything I’ve loved always leaves me, and I can’t let it be real because real means vulnerable. The following days pass by as if in slow motion, but also at the speed of light. Each one not just building up my love for (y/n), but also the walls around my heart. It feels as though I blink and we’re back on the jet for another case. Blink. The team is meeting with the local PD. Blink. We’re in the field with a new victim. Blink. (Y/n) and I are back in our hotel room as she mumbles, “I love you.” Blink. I lose my mind and lose her at the same time. Blink. We’re no longer friends. Blink. She’s moved on and onto Luke. Blink. I’m screaming my confession of love at her as if we’re in a Shakespearon play. Blink.

Wish you'd let me stay, I'm ready now

I'm not ready, eyes heavy now

Wish you'd let me stay, I'm ready now

YOUR POV

“What did you just say?” I ask as my heart rate skyrockets. Spencer stays near his desk, his face showing he’s just as shocked as I am. His gigantic brain must be a complete mess right now. “Spencer, what did—”

“You know what I said,” he takes a deep breath in. “I love you.”

“But—” I choke out.

“I know. I know,” he rubs his face. “I know I told you I didn’t have feelings for you, but I lied.”

“How do I know you aren’t lying now because you’re jealous?” I ask, filled with rage. He shakes his head vigorously and steps closer to me, closing the gap between us. This is the closest he’s been to me in forever. I want to just reach out and melt into him, but I fight back the urge.

“I’m not lying,” he clasps his hands together. I raise my eyebrows and my eyes twitch. “I really do love you.” He reaches out to touch my arm and I step back. I can’t let him in again. At least not this easily. “(Y/n).” He croaks, his voice breaking.

“Do you think I’m that stupid? That I’ve just waited for you to come crawling back?” I ask, my tears stinging my eyes as they roll down my cheeks.

“No, no. Never, I- I never thought that. Ever,” Spencer rushes out.

“Then what is this?” I shake my head, “Because I feel so fucking stupid, Spencer. You left me. You told me you never felt the way I did, and I loved you-”

“I know you did,” he says smoothly. His words stun me, he knew? I step even further back, and I want to keep going and going until I’m out the door. “I heard you, that night in the hotel. When you told me you loved me.” Tears continue to move down my face as his words sink in.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, wiping my face. Spencer steps closer to me, but I don’t move back.

“Because I was scared!” Spencer cries out. “When you said it, I- I felt it of course I did, but I was terrified. When you said you loved me and I knew I loved you...it all became real. Too real,” he sighs. “Everyone that I love, everything I love leaves me. I didn’t want you to leave me.”

“But pushed me away, Spencer.” I shake my head as he steps even closer.

“I know, I screwed up. So badly, (y/n). I’m so sorry,” he reaches out to touch my arms and instead of turning around, I lean into his touch. “If I could go back to that night, I would pull you closer and tell you then, but I can’t. So, I’m telling you now. I love you.” Instead of answering him, I just collapse into his arms completely exhausted. The back and forth, the drinking, the bottling of emotions, the confusion, everything...it’s too much and everything explodes at once. Spencer’s arms wrap around me and holds me up from melting into the floor. He wraps his arms so tightly around my torso and cradles the back of my head with his hands. My hands wrap around him and pull him closer than ever, I take a deep breath in and truly take him in. He’s here. I can’t lose him again.

“(Y/n),” Spencer coos, rubbing my head. I’ve missed him more than anything I’ve ever known.

“I do love you,” I sob and feel Spencer’s heart literally skip a beat. “I always have.”

“You do?” He pulls me away from his chest to look into my eyes. “I didn’t mess this up entirely? I didn’t lose you?” I shake my head no and lift my hands up from his chest and onto the sides of his face. He looks down at me with the kindest eyes. My heart sings and I stand up on my toes, pressing my lips to his. Spencer’s mouth molds into mine perfectly as if we never let one another. His hands squeeze my sides gently and Spencer pulls away smiling. I stroke my thumb across his cheek, whipping away one of his tears.

“You could never lose me, Spencer.”

—

yay! this is finally up!! took me longer than I wanted, but school work got in the way :/ anyway, hope you enjoyed!

masterlist // requests

stay safe & wear a mask!! -m

tags: @rexorangecouny

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x female!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid writing #spencer reid angst #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid blurb #dr spencer reid #dr reid #criminal minds writing #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds angst #cm spencer

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