#i have spent so long on this i should be asleep right now

[thedeviltohisangel]

”you’re mine” with brat tamer john and brat! Cass?

DROP TO MY KNEES BLURB PROMPT ERA

the official welcome of cheese egan? also a little bit of married with kids when do we have time for each other angst because they can't be perfect all the time as much as we want them to be. also HANDYMAN JOHN. that is all.

John sighed deeply as the door to his shed closed behind him, his back pressed against the wood. "We made it," he whispered to the little cat that was looking up at him for acknowledgement. As soon as Cheese confirmed John knew he was there too, he pranced off to the windowsill by his worktable and curled up happily.

The evening in the Egan household had felt like it came from hell. The twins had been arguing about something that had happened during recess ever since Joan had picked them up from school. Lillian had been ornery the minute John walked in the door before Cass, the four-year-old not in the mood for her father in the slightest. And then there was the matter of Imogene. She had decided that her father was the only thing she wanted.

His wife had gotten home late. So late that the kids were already in bed. So late that John had been drooping against the couch cushions in an attempt to stay awake to see her. But she had been in no mood to see him apparently. Barely acknowledged him as she walked towards the kitchen with Butter trailing after her gleefully.

"How was work, baby?" he asked as he followed her, scratching at his stomach and stretching in a yawn. Her fingers were behind Butter's ears and he was looking at John like he knew the man hadn't gotten a kiss yet.

"Fine. Long." Her nose scrunched at the options in the fridge so she settled on an apple on the counter for dinner instead. "Babies asleep?"

"Should be. They were little terrors tonight." Cass hummed around her apple and reached to grab a dog treat from the cabinet. "I didn't know you were going to be so far behind tonight. Could have had Mary call."

"I'm not doing this right now. I'm going to bed," she offered with a roll of her eyes.

"You didn't even kiss me hello," he muttered as Cheese hopped onto the counter next to him. He used the height to look down at Butter with an assessing swish of his tail.

"Maybe I'm just not in the mood tonight, John," she snapped as she moved to head up the stairs.

"Jesus, Cass, that's not-" But her and Butter were already disappearing down the hall and out of his view.

His shed was where he went to tinker. Fix the kid's toys if they played too rough. Fix Gale's glasses when they got ruined at baseball practice. Mend Cass' jewelry if it got tangled or snapped with a tug from the babies or even when John got too rough some nights. It was also where he had found Cheese. His little orange ball of fluff of a best friend. Cheese was quiet and contemplative and looked at John like he knew what he was thinking. The kids loved him too. Penelope had made a fishing pole toy for him during art class that they spent hours fiddling with in the living room. Butter and Cheese had a general respect and didn't fight. But they knew they each cherished different parents.

"Are you coming to bed tonight?" He didn't look over his shoulder as the door opened and his wife spoke. "It's so annoying when you come and hide out here like this."

"Thought you weren't in the mood tonight." He still wasn't looking at her. She huffed and stomped over to where he sat, peeking over his shoulder. He had thin pliers in his hand working on the broken clasp of her bracelet the twins had picked out for Mother's Day last year. It had snapped when Cass had built a pillow fort with them and it caught in their wrestling match. A bit of her anger subsided at the softness of his heart.

"I'm not." Her aloof tone remained. "Cheese, have sweet dreams." She turned to go but his hand wrapped around her wrist. He stood and she craned her neck to look up at him. Sometimes she forgot how imposing her husband could be when he chose to use his size as a weapon.

"Brats don't get to come and go as they please." She bit her lip. "Cassandra Ann...Cassandra Ann...what's your surname again?" He moved forward and she moved back until she hit the door of his shed.

"Egan," she breathed.

"And who gave you that name?"

"You did." Her eyes were molten as his attention broke her foul mood. When would she learn to never push him away?

"Because you're mine. All mine. And you haven't shown how thankful you are for that tonight."

"Please, Colonel, let me apologize." The palm of his hand landed on her shoulder and pushed until her knees were on the floor. She let her smirk flash for just a second.

Easy as Sunday morning.

[ellytraoflight]

Awesamponk came full circle in the egg finale. We’ve seen them jump from lovers to estranged, holding on, letting go, to enemies once again. Ponk’s attempt at retribution backfired on him but it didn’t, really, because Ponk still has Fran hidden away in some secret prison (like a baby piglin used as a bartering chip; like the consequences of Sam’s actions).

Ponk’s “killing Sam” mission started long ago, where he tried to conscript Foolish to help him murder Sam in somewhere around July 2021. It’s worth mentioning, though, that he has plenty of opportunities to murder Sam in the coming months that he never takes. He fantasizes of it like a dream he hopes will come to fruition—a recent ex insincerely wishing death upon their past lover. He’s (understandably) very betrayed by and angry at Sam, but he doesn’t act on any murder plans. His death is not what Ponk really wants at this point in time. 

Even after Sam took Ponk’s arm, Ponk was (mostly) amicable towards Sam face-to-face for a long time. He yells a lot, and he makes petty jabs (“I know you’re good at burning [bridges]” comes to mind), but follows it up with, "Just so you know, you can come to me after everything. I will still support you, Sam, okay? You'll still have a place to stay. Because all the wrong that you have done is going to catch up behind you." Sam immediately says, “I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong.” At this point in time (approximately July 2021), Ponk seems to be bitter, but tells Sam that he’s still willing to wait for him. Sam, meanwhile, obstinately refuses any sort of reproach. This is essentially how their relationship goes for the next year or so, even while Ponk threatens bloody murder behind his back.

Ponk acts in a similar way towards Sam right after Dream escapes prison, only this time the amount of time he’s waited has taken its toll. "The next time you ask for my help, I don't think I'll be there for you. I think I'll just stand and watch. I honestly don't care anymore. [...] You're not even worth the durability on my sword.” Sam offers his own, and Ponk refuses even that. “I don't want you to die, you know why? [...] I have a feeling that someone great, someone who used to be is still in there, and he’s fighting to come out. And one day, that person will make it out, and you will see the shit that you've done to other people in this world, alright? It'll be much worth than death, Sam." Here, I believe Ponk states what he really wants: he can’t wait for Sam anymore, but he doesn’t want Sam to die. He knows that Sam is going to suffer for his actions one way or another, but he doesn’t want to be the one to do it. He’s done with Sam. 

The next time he talks about wanting to murder Sam comes chronologically after his lore stream where he decides to live in a cave. He’s tired, his clothes are tattered, and he asks both Aimsey and Eryn for their help in killing Sam. In a couple of months, Ponk jumps the train from “I don’t want Sam dead” to “I’m going to kill Sam myself.” In between his last interaction with Sam and here, Ponk’s been beaten down by life and has been alone for months. The only thing Ponk knows how to do by this point is blame Sam: in his mind, all his problems started with Sam and his arm. 

This isn’t even considering all the times both Ponk and Sam separately have flirted with Foolish to hurt the other. Or, the times Sam’s flirted with Ponk while truly believing he hasn’t done anything wrong.

By the point of the egg finale, Ponk has realized that Sam is never going to change. Ponk has been suffering, and he blames it all on Sam, and Sam has received no retribution. So, Ponk finally takes it upon himself to hurt Sam the way that Sam hurt Ponk all that time ago, even though he claimed he never would. And it still doesn’t work! Because Sam always had a contingency plan, and he blows up Ponk and he escapes. He still hasn’t learned his lesson—and neither has Ponk. He can never truly let go. 

It’s interesting to think about awesamponk in the context of the egg finale, which primarily covers the story of Skeppy and Badboyhalo. Where Skeppy and Bad have doomed themselves and the world time and time again in order to save the other, Sam and Ponk will never be able to overcome their strife, despite how much they still clearly care for one another. Skephalo say “I care for you so much that everything else can burn,” where awesamponk say “I care for you so much that I’ll flay you myself.” Both exhibit unhealthy codependencies that end up hurting themselves, the other party, and the rest of the server.

I have to wonder where awesamponk is going to go from here. Neither of them are healing, and they are both getting worse, and that’s pretty par for the course for a dream smp relationship, actually.

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

i don’t like. the irrationality created by memories

[erwinsvow]

shy reader just like this 🥺 and kissing rafe’s forehead when she’s pounding tf out of her

omg stopp!!!

when rafe's in a mood like this—you don't say anything, you don't have to. you know your boyfriend well enough by now, letting him do what he needs to when he comes home with stress from one place or another.

you have been, since the day he met you, rafe's favorite form of stress relief.

it's not long before you're naked in his bed, your skirt pulled off and shirt in tatters, thrown onto the floor. rafe's still in his clothes—somehow he always is and you're always naked—but you can't bring yourself to mind right now, with the way your boyfriend is slamming into your sore pussy, battering in and out while you lay back and take it.

rafe's rough, some part of him always has been and always will be. considering how long it took you to convince him to even try to be rough with you, you should take this as an accomplishment.

you look down at where the two of you are joint—the way he slides in and out, your wetness shining on his dick and the obscene noise it creates each time he pushes back in. you're wetter than you'd even realized, so caught up in your head that you forgot your body has always reacted primally to rafe's without any action needed from you.

you look until you can't look anymore, looking up at rafe's face, blinking eyes focusing in on his face—eyebrows twisted in concentration, beads of sweat on his forehead. it's all hot, everything is tight and tense and wet, and you're sure to finish in moments, because it never takes rafe long to tip you over the edge.

but you try to hold off, shaky breaths and moans filling the space between you. rafe grunts, picking up the pace and slamming in and out, his hands tight on your hips. you're helpless but to watch, the noises leaving you in rhythm with his motions.

he's concentrated—always is when he's using your pussy like a toy. you'd be a filthy liar if you said you didn't like it.

"r-rafe," you get out, the word a moan and squeal combined.

"shh, s'okay, just take it, kid-"

that's all you need to hear, leaning in and pressing a fast, light kiss to his forehead. you don't know you do it—just that it feels right. if possible, rafe goes faster.

you fall apart first, rafe right after. when you lay back, whole body shivering at the feeling of his hot cum inside of you, rafe returns the kiss, pressing a longer, sweeter kiss to your forehead.

"what was that for, huh?" he asks you, and you seem to have lost all your words.

"i don't know," you mumble, staring up at your boyfriend from your position in his arms, sticky bodies pressed together. "just felt right. i love you."

just when you're about to fall asleep, spent and limbs exhausted, you hear it, the words from rafe preceded by a soft laugh that makes your head spin.

"i love you too, kid."

[violettaskies]

Of Books & Beasts

Prompt: virginity

Paring: best friend!steve harrington x f!reader

Genre: romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, one bed trope

Notes: wc 9.1k // my first kinktober story (one of five) // hope everyone enjoys it // it’s very soft // a little scary movie night sleep over // reader falls asleep next to steve and things get a little steamy // i wrote everything to have as much consent as possible // steve is a bit of a perv lol

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // slight somnophilia, dry humping, virginity loss, vaginal fingering // masturbation // smut // 'just the tip' is used once or twice // please let me know if there is anymore that need to be added!

ao3 // kinktober masterlist // full masterlist // lazy ghoul’s kinktober prompts

-:-:-:-:-

The night was meant to be a simple one. After weeks of assignments, exams, quizzes, and extracurricular activities at college, all you wanted to do was relax. Well, you still had one more assignment left to do, but maybe you were able to kill two birds with one stone, right? 

Luckily, this assignment was one that you could easily ask for help with from your friend. Someone who always stole movies for you to borrow on many weekends anyways. With your class being based on books which turned into film adaptations, it means a lot of time spent reading and watching. In truth, you felt bad for your classmates who had to rent out the tapes for extended periods just to finish analysis for assignments; all while you didn’t even need to bat an eyelash in Steve’s direction for him to hide movies in your backpack while his manager wasn’t looking. 

With the theme of this particular assignment matching the season and going with horror films, a movie night was something that you craved. Thick sweaters, even thicker blankets, a bit of hot chocolate, and candy from the grocery store that had the orange and black packaging — they were all of the aspects to the marathon you proposed when you walked into Family Video on a Friday afternoon after you got off the bus. Despite all of your convincing tactics, your friend already had his answer long before you began to ask.

“Anything for you, dove. I’ll get everything on this list for us,” Steve smiled at you, after looking at the assignment rubric, as you stood on the other side of the cash register. 

“Alright, maybe I should place a pizza order now so that we don’t starve during the Friday dinner rush tonight,” you said sweetly as you nervously thought about what to order. 

“Don’t you worry about it, it’s on me. Let me treat you a little.” 

“I’m the one who asked you to have a movie marathon with me, I should really be the one paying,” you insisted while you brought your hand closer to the telephone. 

But, quickly, the man was able to grasp it lightly to stop you from moving towards the numbers. You could never admit just how much your skin tingled at the touch. “I’m serious. This shift finishes in twenty minutes, then I can drive us home and I’m all yours. Do whatever you want with me, dove. I can even help out with your stress relief later. Maybe I’ll bend —” 

“Please don’t continue that sentence,” you cut him off easily. Steve always loved to tease you and any eavesdroppers who may be listening in and theorizing if you two were dating or not. The town is full of gossip fiends. “Any louder and people will start to believe you.” 

The younger Harrington chuckled as he got out from behind the counter to stand fully in front of you. He adored to see the way you outwardly pretended you hated the fake moves he would pull. From him putting his arm around your shoulder whilst walking around town, whistling every other time he picked you up from the city bus stop, to intimidating every guy who looked in your direction for too long. However, both of you never knew the other wished for it all to be real. 

“Fine, fine, I’ll be good and stop teasing you,” he chuckled lowly. 

“Thank you,” you smiled to yourself before looking up at Steve with wide eyes. “So will you also be buying garlic knots tonight too?” 

“Yes, as long as you promise to stay awake until the final movie, sleepy girl.” 

-:-:-:-:-

You, in fact, did not stay awake the whole movie night. It wasn’t Tim Curry’s fault either. Normally, it was tradition for you two to end off every evening like this with one musical or something more lighthearted to offset the mood. But the day just exhausted you from every angle, that once you finally got to relax and watch a movie for leisure — you relaxed a little too hard. Adding the components of the cold pizza and Steve putting a blanket on you while continuously keeping a grasp on your knee, you were bound to knock out before the movie ended. Later, it was Steve who woke you up with a whisper in your ear. The sound shocked you at first, and then when you opened your eyes to see the man kneeling in front of you, it did cause a slightly loud gasp to escape your lips. After some groaning on your end about not wanting to intrude, you finally gave in to the invitation Steve gave to let you sleep over tonight. The main contributing factor had to be the fact that the man had a really nice blanket and pillow set that felt like it came from a hotel. 

However, as you both ended off the night in your room, it was Steve who began to groan — although, it was due to pure frustration.

“I don’t have any clean clothes,” your host said as he rummaged through his drawers. 

“How about any sweater and some of those long johns your mother always buys you?” you giggled as you sat on the bed now, reading a book you recently checked out from the library. 

“Or you could always sleep naked, I heard it’s really healthy for you. Plus, I would not mind at — ow,” Steve was on his little sarcastic joke before you threw an old pair of socks at his head. 

“Maybe I should just head home, this feels like such a nuisance to you,” you smiled and whispered shyly. 

Steve really was trying hard to find you something to sleep in. So much so that it caused some sweat to drop on his forehead. But, truly, the man was standing there trying to work up the courage to ask you to put on one of his old swim team sweaters and a cotton pair of shorts he knew would hug your body beautifully. 

Yes, you have slept over before when you were younger. However, those were all planned out with you bringing something from home. Well, there was one emergency where you stayed the night due to a horrific snow storm; but, Mrs. Harrington was there to give you your Christmas present a few weeks early and allow you to sleep in some pyjamas which were covered in cute bunnies. This was the first time you would be here spontaneously alone with Steve — and god, did he feel like all of his prayers were answered. The amount of times he has imagined you laying on his bed, committing the most sinful acts, in various positions and scenarios, could be seen as absolutely perverted. So to have the opportunity to have you on his bed, wearing his clothes, covered in his blanket; it all seemed unfathomable to the man. 

“Here,” Steve exclaimed quickly so that you would actually stay. “Maybe you would be alright with this sweatshirt and some shorts?” 

“This is more than alright. Thank you, Steve,” You skipped off to the washroom to finally get ready for bed and let your friend change into his own pyjamas. 

However, when you got the clothing on, it was so embarrassing to stare into the mirror. Everything fits fine — and on a normal day at home, you would probably wear something similar. But remembering the fact that you would be sleeping next to your best friend was so nerve wracking. It was just a lot shorter than what you would usually wear around him if you did wear a skirt or shorts. You just thanked the heavens that the blanket would be covering your legs so that you didn’t feel as exposed. 

Not that you believed Steve would try anything; not that you didn’t want him to try anything either. But, you were scared of getting so cold and cuddling too close to him like you did last December during the winter storm. Waking up in Steve’s arms caused your heart to flutter so harshly that your heart rate didn’t go down for days. It made you think about how badly you wished you could wake up to his handsome face everyday. Most especially, it made you think about how nicely his leg felt right in between your thighs, and the way it massaged your — 

No. 

This was an innocent sleepover like the thousands that other best friends have had over the years. All you had to do was sleep next to him with a pillow between your bodies and hope you didn’t accidentally roll your way into his arms again. You weren’t sure if you were ready for the heartbreak of knowing that being entwined in each other’s arms would not last forever. 

“Do you want the left or right side of the bed?” Steve called out from the other side of the door, startling you out of your thoughts. 

“Anything is fine,” you replied whilst opening the door. Seeing that Steve was laying in the middle, ready to roll over to whichever side you preferred. The image of him with arms and legs spread out made you giggle. 

“The left side is closer to the lamp if you’d like to read a bit before sleeping,” he said as he shifted over to the ride side of the bed and patted to your new spot. 

“Are you a mind reader or something?” you chuckled between steps.

Steve put the book in the air as you tucked yourself into bed, a nice distance away from him. Once he saw you were comfortable, he placed the book gently in your lap and said: “no, but I could tell your little nap will probably have you staying awake for the next hour or so.” 

“Oh, if the light is gonna bother you then I can turn it off and head to sleep too.” 

The concern in your eyes was absolutely beautiful. As you started up at him with the lamp glowing behind you, you looked like a nymph in the night. And oh how Steve knew he would be the luckiest man alive to sleep next to you. 

“Go ahead, dove. I can sleep through anything,” he whispered lowly whilst rubbing your thigh that was covered by the thick blanket. “What’s it about anyways?” 

You took a deep breath to calm down before speaking. Steve’s touch caused you to feel warm, even more so when he squeezed your thigh every few moments. “Not too sure about the entire plot since I’m only on chapter two. But it’s about a prince and his beast companion. They’ve been best friends for a long time and are going on adventures. This was in the romance section so I’m guessing the best friends fall in love,” you rambled, getting quieter with the last few words. 

What a dream. 

“Is it dirty?” Steve teased as he sunk further underneath the blanket. 

“No, I-I’ve never read a story like that before,” you said sternly. 

“Oh, I believe you,” his voice got deeper and slower with each word, only indicating that he was bound to fall asleep any second. “Have fun reading.” 

They were the last words he said before drifting off to sleep peacefully next to you. Luckily, that meant it was a lot easier to read the rest of the book until you felt your own eyes start closing and the words on the page started to become blurry. 

It was a beautiful story, full of lore and love, a mix of historical fiction and mythology. After reading and watching stories based on the horror genre for a few weeks now, it was nice to have a little bit of a break and just read about love. Your heart started to feel warm and giddy as each page passed — even going as far as quietly giggling when you felt your cheeks feel warm as a result of the prince’s romantic actions throughout the book. You didn’t even notice that you were sinking further and further into the blanket because you were so engrossed in the imaginary world. It didn’t even matter that the angle made your back hurt a little. 

Well, not really. Once you started to feel stiff, you moved into a straighter position. However, you were interrupted by a low and groggy voice. 

“You want to get under here?” Steve asked you through half-lidded eyes and his arm moving to invite you to move even closer into his body. 

Wordlessly, you accepted the offer and went right up to Steve’s body. The book was on his chest while your cheek was at his side. Everything felt so comfortable and domestic — a part of you wished this could last forever. 

But right then, the storyline of the book went on a different path, to say the least. 

You see, the prince got hurt whilst fighting off some evil spirits. He was bleeding everywhere and in so much pain. But the companion, a beautiful wolf-demon, was able to heal his wounds to the point where it wouldn’t be so life threatening. It was so simple, to use a little magic and bandages in hopes of survival, but the author was able to portray it wonderfully. To thank the woman, the prince moved his arms around her to hold her a warm embrace. It was so sweet, just like the position you were in now. However, it took a turn for the romantics. A little too romantic. An activity you definitely were not currently doing with Steve. 

The man kissed her sweetly: from her shoulders, up to her neck, then finally landed on her plump lips. It was beautiful, so serene, accompanied by a drawing of the two in bed with locked lips and legs. Slowly, she started to rock against his leg, adoring the pressure against the place no one had touched before. As she gasped into each kiss, the prince smiled in tandem. Even moving his hips to help the lady feel more pleasure. You wondered how that felt, it was only a slight movement of the hips — there was no way it could feel that good.

But you were so wrong. 

Just as you tried to move positions, Steve moved his leg upwards, moving his thigh right against your heat. It felt so good, to the point where you bit your lip to suppress the whimper that was about to escape your lips. The man next to you, tried to find a better position to sleep in too, moving his legs some more until it found solace as it intertwined with your own legs. 

Fuck, it felt really good. You tried so hard not to move your hips in tandem so that you could amp up the pleasure. So instead, you continued to read, trying to focus on the writing techniques and nothing else. However, you only began noting the things the characters did with one another. How they whispered sweet nothings as they continued their game to see how long it would take the lady to climax. And you noticed the way you felt warm between your legs, a slight throbbing to seal the deal. 

Maybe in another world you would wake up Steve and ask him to let you out of his embrace so that you could excuse yourself to the washroom and down. But not in this one. In this world, you were at peace in his arms. In this world, you really didn’t care about the throbbing ache between your legs because you were extremely sleepy. In this world, you would convince yourself that it would pass. In this world, the sound of both your hearts beating as one was enough of a lullaby to cause even the most stubborn of characters to sleep. Just as you did now, with the book still on Steve’s chest, and your bodies squeezing closer together. 

-:-:-:-:-

Steve was an extremely heavy sleeper when he was with you. Most of the time, you would be awake first during these little sleepovers and do something before he even pried his eyes open and then decided to keep them shut because of the sun seeping through the windows. It wouldn’t surprise Steve to see you reading at your desk or braiding friendship bracelets when you had that arts n’ crafts phase a couple years ago. This time, however, he was the one who awoke in the middle of the night to movement from beside him. Maybe it was due to some level of paranoia he has gained over the past few years regarding a life that he wishes you would never need to experience. It’s funny that you were reading books with monsters the world has nightmares about, while he was one of the people who was facing them. He wishes so badly to protect you from all of it. So when you started moving in your sleep, something you never do, Steve felt his body wake up in an instant. 

His eyes were having trouble fully opening themselves as he could hear faint whimpering sounds coming from you and slight movements near his thigh. It was enough to turn his head to the left to see what was wrong. But nothing was wrong per se. If anything this was right out of a perverted fantasy he has had millions of times before. 

As his eyes finally came into focus at what was in front of him, Steve could only smile and thank the heavens. You were laying in the same position you initially fell asleep in: book held in your hand, it being face down on Steve’s chest on a particular page, while your own face was on the side of his chest. But, the thing that surprised him the most was the grip your thighs had around his own. Slowly, your hips were thrusting back and forth against his leg, humping over and over. Whenever your body hit the perfect spot against your clit, you would mewl against his chest, sending a vibration through his body. Your hard nipples would poke Steve’s stomach once in a while too. 

Good Lord, he was so distracted by the vision of you thrusting against his thigh, that he didn’t realize just how hard he had become. He only noticed it when your leg tensed up and moved towards his crotch, touching the underside and head in the process. 

You were about to become the death of him tonight. 

Curiously, he picked up the book you were reading to put it on the bedside table, when the words jumped out at him. 

“And then the prince lifted the dress of the maiden beast. How scary she was to the eyes of the kingdom, but how beautiful she looked with swollen lips and lust-filled eyes. She was wet, so wet that it seeped through the layers of clothing.”

Just then, Steve looked down to notice how your wetness was doing the same thing. Your arousal had gone past your shorts and went onto the cotton bottoms he was wearing. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The man skipped a few paragraphs to see just exactly what the prince and his lady were up to. Words of biting, screaming, thrusting harshly against the wall, even scratches along one another’s backs. It was pornographic, it was beautiful, and Steve was shocked that your virgin eyes read through some of this before falling asleep. 

If only he could recreate it with you. Seeing you moan and move to your lust-filled slumber was more than enough of a dream come true to the man. But this was wrong. So wrong. You both were best friends. He loved you, wished he could be more with you. But he believed that wasn’t worthy of you. You were the princess this whole town adored while he was just a former playboy many people seemed to dislike sometimes. There was a part of him that wanted to see how long it would take for you to come against his leg. However, his guilt took over quickly. 

“Wake up, my dove. It’s getting hot in here.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. The mixture of blankets and his arousal made Steve sweat through his clothes easily. 

“Hm? What?” You rolled more onto his chest, your weight atop his body nicely. It would have been the world’s most comfortable position, one that would start off most of his perverted fantasies about you; however, he had to stop himself from thrusting against your thigh that was now perfectly on top of his hardness. “Feels so nice, Stevie,” you murmured, still half-asleep. 

“Fuck — you really like that, huh?” The man whispered as you looked up at him with glazed eyes. You were still not cognizant that what you were doing was not in a dream. 

“I feel so warm down there, your leg is massaging me nicely,” you moaned whilst humping some more. “Kiss me, please.” 

Every move you were doing, every word you were saying, every whimper that came out of your throat — the man has imagined it all before. You were all of his greatest fantasies come to life. He wished so badly to ravish you on the spot and satiate all of the pent-up pleasure your body needed to release. Your lips were swollen now from all of the biting you’ve been doing to quiet down your moans; but, good god, the man was going to memorize it all for the sake of his future sessions with his right hand. 

Steve really needed to stop this, and fully wake you up as soon as possible. This wasn’t the normal you, you didn’t even realize exactly what you were doing. “Pretty girl, no matter how much I want to continue this, we can’t.” The words fell from his lips painfully. 

“Why not? You don’t feel good?” You whimpered as you reached up and put your arms around Steve’s neck, stopping your hips’ movements all together. 

“Feels so good, baby,” Steve moaned loudly this time as he thrusted against your leg like he imagined a million times before. It wasn't helping that you thought your face closer to his in order to hear his breathy moans easier. The man was so close to leaning forward and kissing your plump lips. “But, this isn’t a dream, and you’re not fully awake. I don’t want you to regret this—”

The man was going to ramble on and continue to comfort you into waking up fully. However, you got the message loud and clear. So much so, that your heart dropped and you gasped. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’ll move over t-there — ah.” The moan coming out of your mouth was completely involuntary as you lifted your body up and intended on moving down and away from Steve’s figure. 

“Did that feel good?” Steve teased, now that you were both fully cognizant of your sleeping status. 

“I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry.” If only you could apologize a million times, because you would; your guilty conscience would make sure of it. 

“You probably had some sweet dreams, huh?” 

Just as you were separated from the man, you heard his words and looked over at his figure. Through the dim lighting of the lamp, you could see that he was holding up the novel you were reading before bed, and it was open to the very scene that inspired any of your hormone-induced movements tonight. 

“Oh no,” you whispered. Looking down, there was a wet spot on Steve’s thigh where your heat was pressed against. He was admiring it as if he were memorizing just how it looks. And he was. “This is so embarrassing,” you though out loud

“It’s no big deal, dove. Guys have nudie magazines and a video here and there. I would never judge you for a little novel,” Steve chuckled as he sat up to the headboard to mirror your actions. 

“I didn’t know it was going to be like that in the story,” you whispered. 

“Did you like it?” Your friend was genuinely curious. Throughout your history as friends, you had never even asked him for advice about relationships — this erotic chapter of the novel must have been a shocking first exposure to it all. 

You thought about the question for a few moments. Remembering the emotions and fire you felt in different parts of your body, you could really only tell him the truth. “Y-yeah, I suppose so.”  

“Then don’t feel embarrassed or bad about it,” Steve nudged your shoulder sweetly to make you feel less embarrassed over the situation. “Never thought you were into reading it in front of other people though.”

“Don’t tease,” you pouted, putting your head under the blanket to hide from the embarrassment. 

“I’ll stop, I promise. But, you did give me a wonderful way to wake up,” you could hear him smiling just by the sound of his voice. 

Those words made you slowly peek your way out of the thick blanket to see Steve looming over you with a smirk that teased your soul. The lamp in the room made him glow, while the moon’s beams that were seeping through the blinds made him look like one of the many drawings of the prince in the book you were just reading. It took all the strength within you, not to squeeze your thighs together and satiate the throbbing between them. 

“Let’s never talk about this again,” you whispered, the blanket still covering your mouth. 

“If that’s what you would be comfortable with,” Steve chuckled as he laid back in his spot. 

“Y-yes, I would be.” 

After a moment of awkward silence, you both in regular sleeping positions, Steve wanted to break the ice a bit. “It is a well-written book. Maybe I could borrow it sometime.” 

“You’re so annoying,” you giggled, grabbing a small pillow on the bed and lightly hitting his chest with it.

“Learn anything while reading? You could use me as a practice dummy.” The man laid on his side now, looking at you as he put on a seductive tone. 

“You’re just a dummy, Steve,” you playfully scoffed with a giggle. 

“That was the last one, promise. Sweet dreams, dove.” 

In truth, Steve wanted you to sleep as quickly as possible so that he could make his way to the washroom and get rid of his hard problem. It was hurting now, even as he tried to think about anything else that would possibly subside his arousal. Your movements and moans will never be erased from his mind. Steve’s imagination was running wild with how you actually sounded as you were feeling pleasure. 

No one has ever thanked a book more in the history of mankind. 

“Is that what sex is like?” You whispered into the night, cutting off the man’s thoughts. 

“What do you mean?” Steve replied as he turned to his side to look at you staring up to the ceiling.  

“In the book, they talk about it like it happens so fast and hard,” you said the words with a concerned tone while turning your body towards his to face him. 

“Well, it can be fast and hard if the couple wants it that way. But, taking it slow is nice too,” the man next to you chuckled sweetly. 

You felt dumb asking the question. For years, you have known that Steve was a lot more experienced than you in the department of relations with the opposite sex. There have been countless times where Steve would tell you about any dates that he has gone on, or imply lewd acts he committed with his girlfriend of the week. And all you would do is nod out of pure curiosity. However, this was the first time you outright spoke about sex with him. 

“Right, right, that makes sense. It must feel really nice,” you continued your thoughts. 

“It does. Everything is so warm and wet. The noises too are something you’ll never forget. My hand and imagination does not do it justice sometimes.” Right then, Steve’s mind went through flashbacks of times he has laid in bed with the image of you stuck as his muse. He has imagined the way you would react and moan to things he would do with you. Would you bite your lip whilst looking down between your bodies? Would you whimper in the same way you do when you beg Steve to drive you somewhere and he just had a long day at work? Anything you would do would be erotic, and enough fire for him to reach the happiest of endings. However, by the end, he would pray for the day he could experience the real thing with you.  

“I wonder what it will be like for me,” you giggled, bringing the blanket close to your face again. 

“You got a good idea a few minutes ago,” Steve teased as he looked you up and down. 

All you could do was hit his shoulder then hide your face into it as he leaned back onto the bed. “It did feel really, really nice, Steve. I’m so sorry.” 

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. You liked it, didn’t you?” he said, trying to soothe your embarrassment of it all. As he squeezed his arm around you tighter to have you closer to his chest, Steve realized that your bare thighs had found their way around his again. You looked so beautiful cuddling next to him, tightening your legs slowly. “Then, maybe I can help. You didn’t get to finish, sweet girl.” 

The deepness of Steve’s voice resonated through your entire body as you looked up at him with desperate eyes. His proposal sounded so good. You felt this constant throbbing between your legs that only increased ten-fold every time you and Steve accidentally breathed too close together. As you gripped his chest with your hands, and his thigh with your own — you really craved to continue the pleasure you were feeling moments before. 

“I didn’t even know that I started,” you pouted. 

“Oh, but finishing is one of the best parts,” he teased whilst moving his thigh upwards to massage your cunt slowly. 

“Steve—” you moaned like music to his ears.

Your friend began to move his thigh up and down to stroke your pussy, hitting your clit from the right angle to make you bite your lip in between whimpers. He held your face sweetly, making sure that he could see how every movement affected you. Steve was sure that the image of your pupils getting darker would be engraved in his mind forever. 

“My best friend needs help, and you know I would do anything for you,” he whispered, hovering his lips above yours. 

“More, please.” 

“So polite,” Steve teased, quickening his pace and moving one hand to your breasts. “Doing such a dirty thing and now you’re being so nice.” 

“I feel so — I feel like I need more,” you said quietly as if it were a desperate plea. 

Steve squeezed your right breast sweetly, pinching your hardened nipple through the thick sweater fabric. He noted how you thrusted yourself against his thigh and nearly fell onto his lips as you moaned. 

“Is your body on fire? You feel nice, dove,” he smiled, kissing your cheek to tease you. 

“So good. Kiss me, Steve, please.” You weren’t sure what took over your body in that moment, but you gripped onto his hair and leaned your lips towards his. Yet, he was the one who kissed you first. It was a kiss that made the angels sing above you, one that you both have been imagining for years and years. Hearing all of the stories of girls in school raving about his talents with his mouth and tongue — a part of you could never believe that he would be that amazing.

But, you were wrong, so wrong. 

As he kissed you deeply, poking his tongue through to taste you more, you couldn’t help but whimper loudly into the kiss. Steve adored it, promising himself to try everything he could to hear every variation of your beautiful sounds. Just when he brought a hand down to your back, urging your hips to move forwards on his leg, you swear you were about to see stars. This is what all the magazines were talking about. This is what all the whispered conversations during girl talk were giggling about. This is what the novel you were just reading was writing about when it came to the pleasures of the flesh. You remembered what the lady did in the book, and decided to emulate her actions. Although you were slowing down your kisses, your hand found its way to Steve’s clothed hardness. It was nearly peeking out of the sweatpant elastic by now which made you gasp in surprise. 

“God, what did you learn in that book?” Steve moaned as he felt your delicate hand on him. 

“The characters in the story were really good friends too. She was always tempted to be the one who helped him out when he was really stressed out.” You smiled into the kiss, noticing how teasing him only made you wetter. 

You hand gripped his hardness some more, focusing on the large head that could be felt through the fabric.

“Here I thought that was going to be my job tonight,” Steve’s voice was low now as he kissed you down your neck and moved the hand that was previously on your back, to your front. The shorts you were wearing rode up to tighten upon your cunt. The fabric squeezed your clit, and caused your arousal to get all over the place where your thighs met. 

Steve pushed the fabric to the side, noticing how you didn’t wear panties to sleep, and started to lightly massage your clit. “Oh God,” you moaned into his mouth while arching your back. 

The movement made Steve want to lay you down on your back to have easier access between your legs. Although you whimpered in slight disappointment when you didn’t feel the pressure of his thigh, that all went away when the man teased your wet entrance with his fingers before going up to your clit again. 

“No panties, huh? You’re bound to be the death of me.” 

“I normally don’t wear any to bed if I’m wearing shorts,” you whispered, moving yourself to feel his fingers more against your nub. 

“Is it alright if I take these off?” He barely got the question out before you began to nod. 

Looking at you in all your glory was absolutely mind blowing to Steve. He swears that he felt his cock twitch in excitement when he saw your arousal dripping on his sheets. The light from the lamp made you look like you were glowing, and the man was so tempted to taste what he has been craving for so long. But, he took it slow, circling your clit faster and faster as he leaned down to kiss you deeply. As every moan was swallowed by him, Steve began to thrust himself upon the side of your hip to satiate his arousal. 

The moment he stopped kissing you for a moment, he wordlessly looked you in the eye, teasing your entrance now with his fingers. With a nod and smile through bitten lips, you gave him full permission to fill your hole that has been desperately throbbing around nothingness.  

“Feels so good, Stevie. Keep doing that, please,” you groaned as he fingered you deeper and deeper. 

“Are you close, dove? Are you gonna come? You’re so tight, can barely fit these two fingers,” Steve teased as he kissed your neck to make you moan louder. 

“More — need more.” The grip you had on his hair became tighter as you pushed yourself down on his hand, nearly fucking yourself on his fingers. Feeling so stretched out was a brand new experience. You were never one to masturbate, even when everyone mentioned it was so much fun. Everything from seeing a hot guy at the mall, a rockstar who was shirtless on the cover of a magazine, or the angle of a showerhead accidentally focusing on a sweet spot — none of those experiences ever happened in your life. In truth, nothing ever made you curious enough to even try to see if other things would have a similar effect. But something about this night made you want to experience it all with Steve. 

The man quickened his pace with his fingers, using one hand to thrust into you while the other massaged your clit sweetly. Your moans echoed through the room as you arch your back in ecstasy. The feeling of Steve’s lips on your throat made you want to thrust against his hand harder, but you were too overwhelmed to move your hips in tandem. Instead, you lifted up your shirt and started to squeeze your lonely nipples. 

You aren’t sure what took over — all you knew was that everything felt so good. 

“Fuck, you really do have the most perfect tits,” Steve whispered to himself when he got up from your neck. He felt your movements and thought something was wrong. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of your swollen nipples, eager for some sort of touch. When he saw your fingers squeeze your right nipple, he could not handle it anymore and dove down to suck on them, leaving marks on your smooth skin. 

“Steve, everything you’re doing feels so good,” you moaned. 

“Are you gonna come for me, baby? I know you can do it.” 

And you did. Loudly. Just those words, working in tandem with his fingers and mouth, were more than enough to make you orgasm into oblivion. Steve had two fingers inside of you whilst his thumb was massaging your clit in small circles. You barely had the strength to tell him how good it felt since you were shaking below him in pleasure. All you could do was grasp Steve’s hair as he kissed one nipple of yours to the next. It was your very first orgasm, and you were welcoming it with open arms. 

“So nice —” you whimpered incoherently. 

Steve kissed you, swallowing in your moans of ecstasy. “I’m never gonna get tired of that sound,” he teased as he took out his fingers from inside of you and just massaged your clit as you got down from your high. 

“So much better than reading a book,” you giggled as your body calmed down. 

“Maybe we gotta find you crazier books then,” Steve smiled with you while kissing your soft lips. 

The kiss became deeper as you embraced one another. Your friend found his way on top of you which felt so surreal. Throughout your friendship, you never believed that some of your naughty dreams that you pushed to the side, would ever come true. Steve was having the same thoughts; however, he never pushed those dreams to the side. More likely, he would take care of any hard problem that was in between his legs. But, kissing you only made him throb harder. Especially now that he knows what your pussy felt like on his fingertips, 

“Again — I can take more,” you whispered between kisses. 

“Needy girl, you really want to?” Steve asked, making sure this wasn’t a dream for him now. 

“Mhm, yes, what if we slipped it in?” your hand moved down his body and to the waistband of his pants. Without even stretching the fabric, you looked up at him with sweet eyes. “Would it feel good too? Maybe just the tip?” 

Fuck. 

Steve needed to calm himself down. He was already on the verge of cumming in his pants, watching you orgasm on his sheets. Even now, as the remnants of your arousal covered his fingers, he wondered how it would feel against his hardness. But, Steve couldn’t do that to you now. Especially knowing the fact that it would be your first time. However, the lust that clouded your eyes as you pouted up at him, was convincing him slowly. 

The conflict on Steve’s face was so apparent that you whispered: “oh, we don’t need to—”

“Fuck, I want to,” Steve kissed you sweetly. “Are you sure, baby? Sure that you can take it all?”

“Yes, yes, I promise you that I can,” you smiled up at him and then bit your lips out of a mixture of excitement and nervousness. 

You kissed one another again, not being to stand the time your lips were apart from each other’s. As you did so, Steve brought his hands under your sweater to nearly rip it off of you — leaving you beautifully naked on his plaid sheets. His hands were calling to him, telling him that one day he needed to take a picture of you like this. But, there is going to be another time, surely. Right now, he wanted to satiate your body’s cravings. As you stared up at him and squeezed your thighs together, Steve was truly about to combust. 

“It’s kinda cold,” you giggled as you stared down at your hardened nipples. Then, you sat up slightly to meet his lips again, but not without whispering close to his mouth. “Can I take off your clothes too?” 

With those words, Steve helped you take off his tight shirt and sweatpants. You’ve been teasingly touching it throughout tonight’s escapades; however, seeing his hardness in all its glory, stunned you. It was a lot thicker and longer than you initially believed. In truth, there were countless moments where you had gotten a glimpse of his size. Like the times he invited you to his backyard to swim, and he always seemed to choose tighter swim shorts every week. Or the one time he forgot to bring a towel into the shower so you brought one to him, thinking that he was going to keep the shower curtain atop his body for some modesty; however, when you were on your way out the room, he let go of the plastic curtain a bit too early and you saw a definite outline from the side of your eyes. Every single time, no matter how crazy the situation may be, you felt warm all over your body. This time, however, seeing the way it hung and the precum leaking out of it, you were hypnotized to say the least. 

“One sec, dove,” Steve whispered as he saw that you were about to touch it. You looked to see that he bent his body to reach his nightstand and take out a little clear bottle. 

“What is that?” You asked innocently as you began to stroke him while he wasn’t looking. 

“I-it’s — fuck — it’s lube. We could use a little if you wanted to,” Steve said seriously before bringing a hand to your arousal and massaging your clit sweetly. “Not sure if we will need much,” he teased. 

Steve kissed you again, having you lay down on the bed fully. He thrusted his hardness against your pussy a few times, seeing how you reacted to the feeling. You adored it, mewling every time the head of his cock coincided with your clit. In truth, you both could have been doing this for the rest of the night until you two came; however, you were throbbing around nothing and you craved to feel more stretched out than with Steve’s fingers. 

You broke away from the kiss, eyeing the bottle of lube curiously, before Steve grabbed it and put it in your hands to look at closer. There were times you saw a similar bottle in the drug store and noticed they were next to the condoms and pregnancy tests. You saw that there were big bold letters on the front: ‘for her pleasure,’ which confused you slightly. But, you decided to give it a try anyways — it must be something good, you guessed. 

“Let's use a little, Steve.” 

“Yeah, sure. You want me to put it on?” He asked sweetly as he outstretched his hand. 

“N-no, I wanna try something,” you smiled up at him before putting a dollop of the gel in your right hand. “You’re so big, Stevie. You’re gonna stretch me out so good.” 

Your words were hypnotizing the man above you as you circled your hand over his cock and stroked a few times. And to think that he believed that he was to be taking the lead tonight. 

“F-fuck, dove. Your hands are so soft.” Steve’s moans were making you wetter by the second. You felt your heat throb harshly around nothing, before you moved your hips upwards a little and guided his cock into you. 

Just the tip — you said the words before. 

But, fuck, it felt so nice that you both needed so much more. Steve stayed still above you as he watched the way you move your hips to bounce on his cock from below. Inch by inch, you thrusted yourself upon his lube-covered hardness, causing moans to echo through the room as you got stretched out. 

This was so much better than you both could have ever dreamed of. 

“So hard,” you whispered as you got in the last inch and took all of Steve’s cock in. 

“You’re taking me so well, dove. So fucking wet,” he said as he kissed you and let you get used to the large size. 

“Feels nice.”  

“Tell me if you don’t like it,” Steve whispered as he kissed your lips one last time before moving his mouth down your neck and finally thrusting his hips into you. 

Everything seemed to amplify ten-fold. All of the pleasure, moans, tingling, stretching — it all felt so nice. It was if you two were the only people in the world, with the sky changing from a navy blue to a bright orange. Sweet nothings were whispered into the air as you both wanted to give each other the poetic justice you deserved. 

Steve kissed you every time he heard your moans get louder and louder, wanting to taste your ecstasy. He moved back and forth from kissing your lips, to your neck, to your breasts. It all made you grip his hair tightly no matter where he was focusing on your body. 

“Keep going please, Steve. Everything feels so full,” you screamed incoherently.  

“God, you're throbbing around me. I don’t think I can take it.” The man above you was thrusting into you at an increasingly faster pace, missing the feeling of your warm pussy every time he was even an inch out of you. 

“Steve, I wanna feel you cum,” you whispered before grabbing his hair to have him stop sucking on your nipples in order to look at you. 

He adored how needy you were. “Dirty little mouth, Princess.” 

“Need more — need you to go faster.”

“You know I've been dreaming about this moment time and time again. Who knew all it would take is a dirty novel, isn’t that right?” Steve teased as he reached town and pinched your clit playfully. 

“You’ll never regret driving me to the bookstore from now on,” you giggled in between whimpers.

In truth, you didn’t notice the way you were moving yourself upwards to meet his thrusts. It made Steve bite his lip to stop himself from cumming inside of you prematurely.  “Dove, you're taking me so well — fuck — better than I’ve ever imagined,” he moaned. 

“What have you imagined? What were we doing?” you asked it so innocently, stroking his chest as he continued to thrust into you. 

Where did you learn how to do that? — was what he really wanted to ask. Instead, his mind started to blurt out his fantasies. 

“Sometimes I’d have you like this: fucked out and cock drunk in the middle of the night. Other times it would be me bending you over while you’re studying. Always wearing those tiny skirts with the slit.” 

“For you, I wear it for you. I know the yellow skirt is your favourite, isn’t it?” You teased him now. 

You always noticed the way he would ask you pick things up from the floor, mention that your shoes were untied while he was standing behind you, or the way he would always take off a piece of lint from the back of your skirt — even if you had just used a lint roller on it a few moments before. He loved the way the fabric would sway, and you loved the way he looked at you. It made you feel so warm even on the windiest and coldest of days. 

One thing was for certain, it definitely felt like such a tease in comparison to how your heart and body felt right now.  

“You little minx,” Steve moaned as he thrusted into you faster. 

“Do you think I don’t imagine you ripping my skirt into a million pieces every time you stare at me?” the words fell from your lips breathily while Steve’s pace increased more and more. “You’re not so good at recognizing mirrors in front of you when you’re staring at the back of my tiny skirt, huh?”

“God, you like it when I’m being your perv, naughty girl,” Steve stated.

“Makes me feel nice. Just like this.” 

Just then, Steve made sure that his thrusts and massages on your clit were working in tandem with the way your pussy was throbbing on his cock. He could tell with the way you were arching your back more and closing your eyes, that you were bound to orgasm soon. “You’re so beautiful, dove. So beautiful and taking me so well.”  

“Oh my—” your voice sounded so sweet as you looked up at him with desperation in your eyes. 

“That’s it, let it happen,” Steve grunted, making sure to stop himself from cumming so that he could time it with yours.  

“Faster, please,” you nearly screamed now as everything was hitting you in all the perfect spots. 

Steve took that as his sign to move faster: from his hands to his hips. He loved to see the way you were reaching your climax on his cock — an image he would never get out of his mind for the rest of his life. You were squeezing his hardness tighter and tighter, with your moans getting louder in tandem. And so, Steve angled his cock upwards to try and hit your sweetest spot inside of you. 

And he did. 

Good god, he did. 

“That’s it, that’s my dove.” He chanted over and over as you were shaking beneath him, orgasming harder than you did previously. 

“S-Steve, fuck.” You rarely swear, but to know that he was the one to cause this little word to fall from lips with such grace — it was the final straw for Steve. 

He began to cum inside of you, your pussy milking him with each thrust. All of his arousal was filling you up to the point where it started to spill out and glisten all over your thighs. “So tight,” he whimpered above you. 

For a few moments, you both came down from your highs. With a few thrusts and kisses, you allowed your bodies and heart rates to calm down as one. It was beautiful and so bewitching to experience it all. You weren’t so sure what it would be like now. Being friends for so long meant that you both knew so much about each other. However, now, you two seemed to see a lot of each other too. There was no turning back to what it was before. Not after everything felt so good in this way. 

You both looked into each other’s eyes before kissing sweetly, enveloping each other in one last kiss before breaking apart under the morning sun’s rays. 

“You are so beautiful,” Steve whispered as he moved to lay next to you. 

“So are you,” you smiled while cuddling close to him. 

“Are you alright?” He asked sweetly, kissing your forehead in the process. 

“Yeah, I guess I feel a little sore,” you giggled as you moved your head upwards to feel your lips on his again. 

Steve gasped into the kiss, breaking it apart to get some tissues from his nightstand. “Do you need a bath, some water, or food?” He asked whilst wiping the remnants of his climax away on your thighs. 

“I’m fine, Steve, I promise.” You smiled as he looked at you with the biggest hazel gaze. 

Truthfully, you looked like a goddess glowing next to him with the dawn reflecting on your skin. He wasn’t sure if there were enough words in any dictionary to describe your beauty. Maybe not even from the book you were reading before bed. “How about you sleep for a bit and then when you wake up, I’ll have all your favourite breakfast foods on the kitchen table?” The offer was so tempting coming from Steve’s lips. 

“Hmm, what if I want to help you?” You giggled. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be separate from him for too long. The place in between your thighs was begging for his touch again. “There is a scene in that book where the prince and the lady were eating breakfast and then—”

You stopped speaking when you saw Steve reach behind him to find the novel on his nightstand, before flipping pages in the book to see what you were talking about. “Maybe you should read this story to me another day and I can help you every time you get really excited during a scene,” he winked. 

“Another day?” 

“Yes, for now, we could get started on writing the beginning of our newest story, dove. If you would like to, of course.” Steve whispered the words as he hovered his lips above yours, teasing you with each breath that tickled your skin. 

“I’d really, really love that,” you smiled up at him, bringing your arms around his neck in the process. 

If one thing was for certain after tonight: both of you found comfort and love in each other’s arms — and later on in a few different sections of the book store too. 

-:-:-:-:-

[scuderiahoney]

Every Second

charles leclerc x reader

masterlist

summary: the world is ending. you’re right where you belong. 2.6k words

warnings: major character death (apocalypse au, everyone dies), charles & reader have a daughter, talks of death/afterlife/end of the world, it’s mostly sad not gonna lie

a/n: had this idea a LONG time ago, finally finished it today. loosely based on the music video for Older by 5SOS. see also: Till Forever Falls Apart by Ashe & FINNEAS and I Know The End by Phoebe Bridgers. you get the vibes.

The world is on fire.

For once, you mean that literally. You’ve been saying it for years, in reference to politics and pollution and the general temperature of the planet. But now, the world is literally on fire.

Charles is pacing laps around the whole apartment. He’s unable to sit still, even now. The tv is on, the volume low, photos flashing by on the screens. There’s a countdown, ticking along at the bottom of the newscast, telling you exactly how many minutes you have left before the whole thing falls apart. You’re not sure how they seem to know. You won’t take the time to find out.

The next time Charles walks by you, you reach out and grab the sleeve of his sweatshirt. He stops in his tracks, and your fingers brush against his skin. He doesn’t look at you, hasn’t for hours. He stared at the ceiling, now. He’s angry, you can tell. It’s eating him up inside.

“Amour,” you say, calmly, quietly. “You will wear a path in the carpet.”

The irony of what you’ve just said doesn’t hit you until he lets out a bitter laugh. You realize, then, that by tomorrow there will be no carpet. There will be nobody to see the path he’s worn. Everything around you will cease to exist.

It’s funny, the end of the world. It doesn’t feel like you thought it would, though you’re not sure you spent much time devoted to the thought. You had worries, sure, but they always seemed so distant.

“We should wake her,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “I want… every second.”

“Okay,” you agree. “Okay, I’ll get her.”

“No. Not- I’ll go with you,” he says, twisting his hand to grab yours, then repeating, “I want every second.”

You stand up from the couch. He keeps your hands linked as he follows you to your daughter’s room. She’s asleep in the crib, barely one year old, head full of dark curls and a smile that bears his dimples. She looks peaceful. For a moment, you hate to disturb her. It’s the last time you’ll pull her from her crib. You understand, now, why he wanted to come with.

Charles walks over, reaches in with one arm, and scoops her up. It’s only then that his eyes meet yours, as he cradles her to his chest. The two of them make such a perfect picture. You’ve seen it before, after races when he’s tired and sweaty but always wanting to hold her, when he gets back from long trips and she clings to him for hours, when he gets her up in the morning and brings her to your room to wake you up.

He swallows tightly as she shifts in his arm, pressing her tiny round cheek to his neck. You tug on his hand, lead him back out to the living room. He squeezes so hard you think your fingers might fall off.

It won’t be long now before your daughter is fully awake. She’s already beginning to wiggle slightly, her eyelids fluttering. You don’t dare to try and let go of Charles, but you head for the kitchen and start warming up a bottle for her.

It’s what you’d do any day. It’s odd, because the apocalypse is breathing down your neck but your baby still needs to be fed. Other things, you’ve chosen to neglect- the trash will stay in the overflowing can in the kitchen. The mail will go unopened, bills unpaid. There’s a layer of dust on the fireplace mantle that will stay there until the mantle itself ceases to exist. You warm up your daughter’s bottle, though, and try to listen to the sound of the microwave instead of the sound of your husband’s crying.

She’s awake, now, and tugging at your hair with tiny fingers. Charles untangles your hands and wraps his arm around your waist instead, uses it to pull you into his chest. His grip is so tight it would almost be claustrophobic on any other day. Today, if you could melt yourself into one person with him, you would.

The microwave beeps, and you both jump. You grab the bottle, turn to your husband, your daughter. She’s yawning, her head on his chest, her hand still caught in your hair. She doesn’t know. She won’t ever know. There are so many things she won’t get to learn. You’ve dreamt of this your whole life- of love, a family, people to call your own and a home to spend your life in with them. In the end, your time has been so short lived. There are only so many minutes left. The clock on the TV counts down, and your chest aches with every second. You will lose them today.

Charles seems to sense your train of thought. He leads you back to the couch in the living room. He half sits, half lays with your daughter, legs up on the sofa, and holds his other arm out for you. She’s beginning to fuss, because she’s hungry- the most simple of human predicaments. When you sit down, he pulls you into his chest, to face him, your back to the tv. Even on the last day, he will try to shelter you. He curls his arms around you and your daughter while you hold the bottle to her mouth.

“My girls,” he says, voice barely a whisper. “My beautiful girls.”

You’d thought, when you had gotten pregnant, that Charles would want it to be a boy. A mini him, someone to teach karting and racing and follow in his footsteps. But before you even found out, he’d been insistent it was a girl, that she was going to be just like you, that he was going to be wrapped around her finger, same as he was around yours. And when she was born, his dark hair and your eyes and the tiniest fingers you’d ever seen, Charles had bawled his eyes out, holding her in his arms, pressing sweet kisses to your forehead.

He’d been so excited, told you all of his plans. There’d been days on the boat with her, days in the water, days at races with giant headphones to protect her ears. Her father had doted on her and loved her, had talked about her every chance he got. She was going to grow up with all the love the world could possibly have to offer and then some, surrounded by it, bathed in it.

It’s not fair. You’ve had years to live, you’ve gotten to be your own person, but she’ll never get that chance. You suddenly feel short of breath, chest tight, heart racing. Charles feels it and wraps his arm tighter around you. You stare at your daughter’s face, her tiny eyelashes, the little slope of her nose. She deserves so much more time. You rub your finger over her cheek as she drinks the bottle.

“S’not fair,” you mutter, blinking back tears.

“I know,” he says, murmuring the words against your forehead. “It’s not.”

There’s so much more you could say, but the words won’t come. How do you put that into words? The terrifying, all consuming fear of what is coming. There’s no stopping it now. Maybe it’s not worth dwelling on.

“You know,” you say with a sniffle. “She’ll never have to be afraid.”

Charles nods. “Nobody will ever hurt her.”

You reach out and hold her hand, her tiny fingers in yours. Her skin is so soft, unmarred by the world. She will never face heartbreak. She will never lose anyone. She will never have to worry. She’ll also never make her first friend, or have her first love, or her first job or first car, or… the nevers pile up and weigh heavy on your chest. The whole weight of the world is on you.

You press your cheek to Charles’ chest and let the tears flow. It’s silly to hide it. He holds onto you tightly.

There can’t be much time left, now. You can feel the seconds slipping away like grains of sand through your fingers. You have this uncontrollable urge to kneel on the ground and try to scoop them all up. The bits and pieces of your life together with him. You want to hold it all close to your chest, try and shelter it from the impact.

“The wine,” Charles says. “The wedding wine.”

You’d saved a bottle. It was meant to be opened on your tenth anniversary. It’s in the cupboard in the kitchen, a white bow around the neck, a label with a photo of the two of you custom printed by a friend. You’ve been married for three years now. At the time, ten years had felt so far away. Now it slips through the gaps in the cupped hands of your heart.

Charles passes your daughter into your arms and stands up. You cradle her to your chest and press your lips to the top of her head. You whisper to her, remind her how much she’s loved, how much you care for her. Charles returns with the bottle and two glasses, and the corkscrew you’d been gifted as a wedding present. You try not to dwell on it, try not to think about his brothers giving it to you, engraved with your new last name and with a note to accompany it- When you argue, or feel sad, or happy, or anytime, stop and share a bottle of wine together.

You take their advice- of all the times to take it, now feels like your best bet, though you’ve lived by little things like that your whole relationship. When Charles was gone for extended time periods for races, he always returned with a special bottle of wine, always made sure to set aside his first day back just for you, and eventually, for your daughter too. It was one of the things that bothered him most, he’d told you- he never felt like he had enough time. Stretched too thin between all the things and people he loved, everything that’s important to him. He pours you a glass of wine and hands it to you, and you wait while he pours his own. You clink the glasses together and take a sip. It tastes the same as it did on your wedding night, and fresh tears fill your eyes. All your family and friends, there to celebrate the two of you, and now it all comes to an end.

There are picture frames on the wall behind the couch. You stare at them, the tears in your eyes blurring the photographs, but you know what you’d find there. The wedding photo, when he’d kissed you for the first time as your husband. There’s the photo of the two of you on his first day at Ferrari, smiling bright and wide and happy and not having any idea how important you’d become to each other. There are family photos- just the three of you, and ones with your extended families, too. There are landscapes from your vacations together, pictures of you with friends out at parties, your whole lives, hanging up on the wall. All the photos will be destroyed, soon, along with the rest of the world.

Your daughter is dozing off against your chest. You turn to try and take a peek at the countdown on the screen, but before you can, Charles grabs your head and holds, firmly. It can’t be long now. Sometime this morning, just after sunrise, you think they said on the news last night. There’s sun filtering in through the curtains. Your breath gets caught in your chest. The dawn of a new day, of the very last day.

“Hey, hey,” he murmurs, lips against your forehead. “Don’t panic.”

“The world is ending, Charles,” you choke out, voice frantic. “We- we’re going to-“

“I know,” he mumbles. He knits his fingers with yours, right on top of your daughter’s back. “I know. Stay with me. Feel me? Feel her breathing? Just stay right here, my love. You are safe here.”

You’re not, you’re the least safe here that you’ve ever been, but you know what he’s trying to say. You feel the soft rise and fall of her back beneath your hand, feel the way he squeezes your fingers. Stay here. Stay with me. You take a deep breath against his neck, wondering if you can breathe in enough of him that he’ll be a part of you forever. Forever. What does forever even mean, now?

“It’s not enough,” you mutter. “It wasn’t enough time. We deserved more time.”

He nods, and when he speaks, his voice sounds raw. “It wasn’t. We did. But it never would have been enough, my love.”

“If you had more time,” you start, and you hear him choke on a sob. “What would you do with it?”

He’s quiet for a moment. There’s a million different options, a million different answers, a million things still left to do. You wonder if he’s thinking of the same thing as you, though.

“I would spend it right here,” he says, and you fall to pieces. “Right here, with you in my arms, and our daughter with us, and I would tell you how you are the love of my life and- and how I will find you, in the next life, and we will spend forever together. Over and over and it will never be enough,” he sniffles, his tears falling against your forehead.

“Give me a million more years, and I would like to spend them all with you,” you tell him, voice thick with your tears. “Every second.”

There’s a loud noise from somewhere outside. Your heart should be racing, but it isn’t. Charles wraps you up closer, pulling you around your daughter, trying to cradle both of you in his arms. This is it. If there’s anywhere you’d want to spend your last moments, this is the place.

“I will see you soon, my love,” he says into your skin.

Neither of you are religious, and you haven’t talked about your thoughts on the afterlife in any serious sense, but in that moment, you believe it, and you know he does too.

“Nothing could ever keep me away. We said forever,” he adds.

“I love you, Charlie,” you say, leaning up to kiss him. “Forever and ever.”

As the world falls apart around you, you bury your face in his neck and let it happen. There’s nothing you can do, now, except spend every second with him, with your daughter. All the seconds you have left.

…..

The Ferrari factory is bright and shiny, full of people who stare in awe. They have a new driver today, a new prodigy who’s meant to bring victory back to Maranello. You’re feeling a bit overwhelmed by all of it, by the people staring, by the buzzing underneath your skin. It’s too much, but you can’t back out now. You’re being lead through the crowd, and you hope you don’t look as terrified as you feel.

“Oh, and this,” your new team principal says, “is Charles. Your race engineer. You’ll be working very closely together.”

Charles turns around, eyes already sparkling. He grins, a dimple divoting his cheek. He’s cute. He gives you a warm feeling in your chest, like something familiar. When he shakes your hand, you swear you feel a spark. You’ve never met him, you’re almost sure, but it feels like you know him, or maybe, like you used to. It’s the strangest feeling, but it’s a comfort in this sea of strangers.

“Welcome to Ferrari,” he says, and it’s the millionth time you’ve heard it today but you could cry, still. For some reason, it means more coming from him. “You’re going to love every single second.”

Taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @arian-directioner @racingheartsposts @sakuramxchii @mynamejeff5 @c-losur3 @casperlikej

[bomertheshark]

Riding

A Nanami Kento x top male reader

Short

You can’t quite remember how you got to this point. The very man who you had been chasing for ages now was now bouncing up and down your cock in pure bliss… what the hell happened?

You had an infatuation with a man named Kento Nanami, he had been working at your firm for some time now. You met him when he was a new guy since you were the assistant of the guy who had to show him the ropes. You thought he was a nice enough person, not too talkative but still not timid. The only real conversation you had was at a company dinner. You had been sitting across from each other and decided to strike up a conversation with him. Through out the entire night you both talked about this and that as he drank, you never drank much so you decided that tonight was not the night to try and hold your own. You learned a lot about him that night since his lips had gotten loose from the alcohol, and you suppose that’s when it all started. You spent months after that trying to get him to date you. You weren’t shy about it either, you came out and just confessed of course he thought you were joking but that didn’t matter to you, you never stopped flirting with him. You would talk to him everyday going out of your way to have lunch with him and other things to try and court him.

“Listen I think you should stay for dinner, I know it’s a cliche you know, stay for dinner cause it’s raining and I’ll confess my love to you that whole thing. But I just think it’ll be safer and we spent a long time on this project and I think we could use a break, plus you already know I like you and I’m one hell of a cook. And it’s not like this overtime or anything. ” You said moving around your kitchen to start preparing for the meal. “I suppose it’s fine, just don’t try to get me to stay any later than that.” He said as a response while going to sit down at the island.

After making the dish and serving it you sat across from him and ate in silence. “Is there anything you’d like to drink while we eat? I have wine, beer, champagne, water and some soft drinks.” You said after swallowing a bite of your food. “Some wine would be nice, preferably red.” He said in response “yeah I have some Saldo… does that work?” “That’s perfectly acceptable.” You poured the both of you some Saldo albeit you have yourself less just so that you could keep a clear mind in your own home.

Time had passed and you had finished one bottle of the Zinfandel. You cleared the plates and put them in the dishwasher. You were thankful you hadn’t had that much to drink as it seemed that your counterpart was having a hard time being clear headed. He had gotten up to help with the dishes but had ended up leaning on you and rubbing his face into your neck. To say this was embarrassing was an understatement, not only was your coworker probably drunk but he also happened to be the very man you had been attracted to for months.

“Okay Nanami I’m sure you don’t have a very clear mind right now so why don’t you sleep it off on my couch, I’ll make sure you’re on your way after you’ve sobered up.” You say to him trying to pull his arms off of you and start walking to the couch. He obviously didn’t like this idea as he whined a cling onto you tighter. Once you managed to get him on the couch you were turning to walk away and get the blanket that had fallen off in the process when he had grabbed you and you fell on top of him, he obviously enjoyed the position as he keened and started to wrap his arms around your head. This was a very compromising position for you, you could feel yourself start to get hard and flush. “Look Nanami we are coworkers and while yes I do really like you I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to do this when you are intoxicated.” You managed to get out of his grip as he whined and stood up. You have him the blanket and as soon as he got situated he fell asleep.

You finished the dishes and decided to go ahead and go to bed since Kento was already asleep for the night. You fell asleep pretty quick since you were exhausted from the work and trying to deal with Nanami.

You were having the strangest dream when you woke up to a weird feeling. It felt like someone was in your room, you looked at the clock to see it was 4 o’clock in the morning. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes you looked around to see Nanami standing near your bed, in confusion and a bit of fear you asked “what are you doing in here Nanami? Did you want to go home now? I can get up and take you if you really want to leave.” He didn’t respond just getting closer to the bed. “Nanami..? Nanami you’re freaking me out a little I can’t see you that well.” At this point he was now at the foot of your bed, you couldn’t see his face but you knew it was him, why wasn’t he wearing any pants…? “Kento are you alright?” He got on your bed, starting to crawl towards you as you backed up. “Are you still drunk Kento? You’re freaking me out man talk to me.” He was now straddling you peering down at you, you had put your hands on his thighs to stabilize him, when he started to grind on you you knew something was weird.

All of that led to now. Where the man who you had been chasing for months was now on top of you riding you like his life depended on it. With every rock of his body he gasped at how deep you reached. This was your third round and it was already day break. The both of you were sweating and panting, the pleasure that coursed through your veins spurred you on and you continued letting him ride you as he used your chest to stabilize himself. The view was impeccable. You couldn’t believe that you were experiencing this with the very man who you wanted to spend all of your time with. All of it was perfect just like him.

You were really hoping that this meant he would finally take you seriously and let you indulge yourself in loving him with every fiber of your being. But for now you focus on the time you have with him and not the fact that today is a work day.

I really hope you guys like this 😭

I’m sorry it took so long to post!

P.S Saldo is my favorite red wine 🫶

[theemporium]

“Baby?” 

Silence.

“Babe?”

Silence.

“Luke?”

Silence. 

“Are you awake?”

“No.”

You let out a small huff as you shifted once again, like you had been doing for the last fifteen minutes. Luke had tried to ignore it, tried to pretend that he was already asleep and that he didn’t notice the way you kept wiggling around. But it was hard to ignore it when you were practically shaking the whole bed every twenty seconds. 

“Stop being rude,” you muttered as you turned your body so you were facing him. You tucked one arm under your pillow, the other picking at the duvet in the space between you both. “I can’t fall asleep.”

His brows furrowed together slightly, even if his eyes were still closed. “You good?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered honestly. 

You didn’t know why you felt so off. Everything seemed fine. In fact, everything seemed perfect. This was the first year you were invited to join your boyfriend at the lakehouse. You had met Luke just before last summer had started, near the end of the hockey season at a coffee shop. It felt like a scene written out of a book or a romcom, with him rushing out as you were rushing in—only to collide and have iced coffees split over both of you. 

It had been an awkward but wholesome meeting. Luke was fumbling over his words, his cheeks burning pink and his brain seeming unable to properly work with a pretty girl right in front of him. You found it endearing, especially when Jack had opened his window to yell at his brother to hurry up before they were late to morning skate. 

Luke had blurted out, asking for your number and it had been a dream ever since. 

You spent all of last summer texting and calling and getting to know each other. When he came back to Jersey, you met up at the same coffee shop for your first date, which only led to many, many more. And when summer rolled around again, Luke had asked for you to come with him and his friends to the lakehouse, and you had accepted. 

The lakehouse was a dream. It was the perfect summer destination, his friends were amazing and his family were even better. You got along with his mother, you bonded with his father, you laughed with his brothers, you joked with his friends. It was perfect, and yet you were still unable to wave off the tightness in your chest that hadn’t left. 

And now, lying in the dark room after a long day out on the lake, you should have fallen asleep the second your head hit the pillow like Luke was fighting to do right now. Instead, you were squirming and rolling around and trying to shake off the weirdest urge to cry.

“C’mere,” Luke murmured as he opened his arms, giving you a total of three seconds to react before he was wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest. “Talk to me.” 

“M’sorry, you were about to sleep,” you muttered, your cheek pressed against his chest and it helped a little. “We can talk in the morning.”

“I don’t wanna sleep if you’re not okay,” Luke said with a frown on his face. He blinked his eyes open, the bleariness still there as he looked down at you. “What’s going on in that pretty head?” 

You sighed, your arms winding around his torso as you settled on top of him. “Just feel…weird.”

“Weird?”

“Weird,” you repeated with a small shrug. “It’s probably nothing. I’m just getting in my own head.”

“Baby, don’t do that,” Luke grumbled, softly pinching your hip in retaliation as you squealed softly. 

“This helps,” you reassured him. “Being with you helps.”

“It does?” He questioned, sounding adorably clueless and flattered, and it made your lips twitch.

“Yeah, it helps being close to you,” you said to him, settling happily as his arms tightened around you. “You make me feel safe.” 

“Oh,” he murmured before he smiled a little. “You make me feel safe as well.”

“I’ll be fine, Luke,” you murmured, pressing a chaste kiss on his chest just where his heart was beating. “I’ll fall asleep now.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

But you didn’t. Because despite feeling safer in Luke’s arms, it didn’t stop the thoughts whirling around in your brain. It eased the tightness in your chest, but not the chaos in your head. And despite thinking you weren’t being obvious, Luke could feel how tense and rigid you were in his arms. He knew you weren’t fine. He knew you were getting in your own head. And he wanted to help. 

“Mmph,” you let out a surprised noise when Luke rolled over, the comforting weight of his body on top of you as he lifted his head up. “Luke—”

“Do you trust me?” He asked suddenly, cutting you off.

“Of course,” you breathed out before nodding. “Of course I do.”

“Just relax f’me then, okay?” He muttered out sleepily as his hands squeezed your hips before one hand started to slip beneath the waistband of your shorts. 

“Luke–” You started again, but he swiftly quieted you with a kiss. It was embarrassing how quickly you melted into his embrace, feeling your stomach dip with excitement as his tongue worked its way into your mouth as his large palm cupped your cunt.

“Just need to get that brain of yours to calm down,” he murmured between slow, messy kisses as his thumb pressed against your clit in slow circles. “Need you to just lay there and look pretty, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathed out, your eyes fluttering shut as his kisses slowly trailed down to your neck.

“Good girl,” he praised in a low voice, pushing your downs until they were abandoned somewhere by the foot of the bed. His fingers softly glided through your folds, humming in delight when he felt you already dripping for him. “That’s my girl.” 

“Luke,” you whispered, so aware that the house was silent and that people were asleep, but so uncaring when your boyfriend slowly worked you open. “Please.”

“I know, babe, I know,” he murmured in a hushed voice. “Just gotta trust me, okay?”

“Mhmm,” you whined, a little breathy and high-pitched, and it made his cock twitch.

You felt like you were already spiralling with his fingers curled inside you, slowly thrusting in and out as he hit spots that your own fingers never seemed to reach. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer—and then he pulled out.

“No,” you cried out with a whimper, glossy eyes finding his in the dark as he chuckled softly. “Why—”

“Shhh, gonna fill you up, babe,” he assured you, silencing you once again with a kiss as his free hand worked his cock out of his boxers. “No need to cry about it.” 

Your mouth fell open with a silent scream as he slowly pushed inside you, so big and deep and overwhelming that it was hard to focus on anything except the pleasurable burn of him stretching you out. Your nails dug into his skin, legs wrapped around his waist to keep him from moving away and it was hard to think about anything else other than himhimhimhimhim—

“There we go,” he groaned, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck as he laid on top of you. “Takin’ me so well, baby.”

“Luke,” you breathed out. 

“Shhh, just gonna stay like this,” he told you in a whispered voice, his hands tracing up and down your sides. “Just gonna keep you full, okay? We’re gonna sleep like this tonight.”

Your eyes clenched shut as he thrusted a little deeper inside you. “But—”

“Nuh uh, just like this, pretty girl,” he murmured, kissing the pulse point on your neck. “Think you can do that f’me?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, clinging onto him.

“Atta girl,” he hummed. “Gonna keep you safe, okay?”

“You always do,” you retorted instantly.

“Exactly, baby. Go to sleep, I’ve got you.”

“Goodnight, Luke.”

“Goodnight, baby.”

.

[coldfanbou]

Manor: Away At Last

We return to find ourselves having some doubts before Nayeon intrudes on us, and then we make the big leap.

Length 2K

Nayeon X Mreader

With Umji sleeping on your chest, you figured now was the best time to go. You pull her off your cock; small groans escape her lips as you place her in front of Taeyeon. The older woman wraps her arms around Umji, becoming the big spoon as they begin to cuddle in their sleep. You look around Taeyeon’s room for a paper and pen, sneakily looking through her drawers. They were filled with clothes as you had expected, but you found other things as well; a dildo is the most interesting thing, but eventually you find a notepad and pen. You pen out your feelings to Taeyeon before putting on your clothes and leaving her room. 

You look around the halls; no staff are around at the moment, so you rush to your room. Along the way, you spot Moonbyul and pull her along with you. “Hey! What’s going on?” She yelled.

“How long until we can leave?” You ask, pulling her into your room. “Taeyeon and Umji are asleep right now. I need to know when we can leave.”

“It’s better if we leave in the evening or at night; it’s only a few hours away. So calm down and make sure you have everything. Besides, I’m sure that cock of yours was enough to put them down for a least a little while longer than we need.” Moonbyul says cooly. “Make sure you have everything you need because there’s the chance you never come back. I still have my phone; I’ll message you when it’s time.” Moonbyul heads for the door, opening it slowly as she looks your way. “Oh, and don’t forget about your lover. You two better come together because I’m not waiting around.”

“Right,” You sigh before walking over to your bed and sitting on the edge. The door closes, and you’re left alone in your room. Looking around the room, you recall all the time you spent here. You shake your head and grab the backpack, ensuring you have everything you need and all essential documents. You doubt yourself for a moment, unsure of how you should proceed, when a knock at the door grabs your attention. Looking at the doorway, you see Nayeon standing there with her own bag. “Come in, Nayeon.” She does so, slowly shutting the door to make the least amount of sound and leaving her bag by it before sitting on your bed beside you.

“So, I guess we’re leaving today.”

“Yeah, we are.” 

Nayeon glances at you before patting her lap, “Rest your head; I know you have a lot on your mind.” You give Nayeon a hesitant look, and she responds with a deadly serious expression, practically ordering you to lay your head on her lap. When you do, you see her expression soften, a slight smile spreading across her face. You stay like that for some time before either of you decide to speak. “It’s really a lot, huh? Leaving everything behind. It’s scary.”

“You’re telling me,” You respond, focusing on the doorway. 

“I don’t know how many hours you and I spent here. And now, we’re just going to leave it all behind.” Nayeon runs her hands through your hair. They’re shaky, and you know she is trying to calm down. 

You raise yourself slowly and grab Nayeon’s back, pulling her back onto the bed. “Nayeon, I can feel your hands shake when you do that. You’re more nervous than me.” She just nods her head. She places her hands on your arm and pushes her body into yours. You feel her thin frame rub against you. The scent of her perfume hit your nose, a slightly sweet lavender smell. 

As much as you didn’t want anything from her at this moment, your body reacted to Nayeon’s as she rubbed against your crotch. She felt as much. “I’m sorry, Nayeon.” You try to pull away from her, but only for Nayeon to hold your hands.

“N-no. Don’t go,” she says sheepishly, turning her head slowly over her shoulder. “Do you think we could do it one more time?” You give her a confused look, wondering why she wants to do it now. Nayeon casts her eyes downward, embarrassed, “I liked doing it with you, and I want to do it again.” She mumbles, barely intelligible.

“I can’t hear you. Can you repeat that?” 

“Don’t make me say it again,” Nayeon says, her face growing red. “I want you to fuck me.” She mumbles, just loud enough for you to hear. Nayeon turns in your arms, a pleading look on her face as she stares into your eyes. “Just one more time.” Nayeon buries herself in your chest, trying to hide away. “T-this could be good for us. I-it’ll help us relax.” You kiss the top of her head. This makes her peek up from your chest. “Is that a yes?”

You stay silent, letting your actions do the talking as you press your lips against hers. Nayeon’s eyes shoot open; she accepts the kiss, enjoying the feeling of your lips on hers. She grabs your arms, moving them from her back to her waist. You hold Nayeon gently as you break the kiss. Nipping at her neck, Nayeon moans softly and holds your head. Your hands move around Nayeon’s waist, finding the zipper to her skirt and pulling it down slowly. She feels you strip away her skirt, leaving her bottom half in just panties and thigh highs. “Thank you,” Nayeon moans. She rubs her legs together as you tug on her sweater. Nayeon lets you go momentarily, practically throwing her sweater off before wrapping her arms around your neck and bringing you back in.

“You’re gonna catch a cold leaving in just a sweater.” 

“Shut up,” Nayeon groans as you cup her breasts, squeezing the modest mound. You groan, too; Nayeon was rubbing her cunt against your bulge. “Please, I want you.” You pull your pants and underwear down as Nayeon continues to grind against you. Her panties were soaked with her juices, and her hips continued to grind against you. “Please, put it in.” Nayeon moans into your ear.

You move her panties to the side and place your cock between her lips. She becomes more restless, rocking her hips back and forth, pushing your cock between her folds. “Calm down, Nayeon. I don’t want this to be the last time. We can take our time.”

Despite your words, Nayeon continued to move. “I just need you. I’ve been thinking about our first time together.” Without another word, you grab Nayeon’s waist and slowly push inside; her entrance stretches to fit you inside. Her walls cling to your shaft as you push in deeper, rubbing against the head. Nayeon wraps her legs around you as you finish burying yourself inside her. You glance at Nayeon only to see her in he own world, eyes shut and a long, breathy moan escaping her lips. Her arms relax around you as you begin thrusting; each one is long and slow. Nayeon’s modest breasts bounce as you push back into her. You reach up, cupping one of Nayeon’s cheeks, holding her head still as you go in and kiss her. “I-I love you.” Her words were a pleasant surprise. You stay buried inside Nayeon, waiting for her to open her eyes. “Why did you stop?” She asks as her eyes flutter open.

It was your chance to tease her. “What did you say?”

“I-Nothing! I didn’t say anything!” Nayeon says as she panics. “I-I said fuck me! I want it harder!” She shouts, trying to cover her traces. You chuckle 

“If that’s what you want.” You say before moving your hands to Nayeon’s waist and sinking your fingers into her flesh with a tight grip. You pull out slowly before ramming your length into Nayeon. She grunts as you ram into her womb.

“Oh, fuck me!” Nayeon grunts as you begin to ram every inch into her welcoming pussy. She tucks her head into your shoulder and tightens her grip on your waist. Her moans grow louder, filling the room. Nayeon’s walls tighten around you as she nears her climax, the sudden attack on her body sending her over the edge. “I’m gonna cum!” She yells before biting down on your shoulder. Nayeon pushes you deeper inside as she cums, her walls tightening and relaxing around your cock, attempting to milk you as you continue to pound away at her cunt. Nayeon’s moans continue as you begin to overstimulate her. Each thrust drives you crazy as you try to hold on; Nayeon’s tight warm cunt was becoming too much for you. “Wait, wait, wait!” Nayeon cries, her roll into the back of her head as you make her cum again, quickly. Her nectar squirts out of her, coating your cock and dripping onto the bed as you bury yourself inside her and fill her awaiting cunt with your semen. You watch Nayeon’s expression, noticing her come in and out as she recovers from her orgasms. Her hips thrust upward on occasion as she twitches, and you're forced to pull her legs apart, finally allowing you to pull out. Nayeon slowly closes her legs, her panties acting as a poor barrier as cum soaks it before spilling between her thighs. 

“Was that hard enough for you?” You ask, breathing heavily and tired. Nayeon turns her head slowly, eyeing your softened cock. She turns onto her side and crawls closer, pressing her lips against the bulbous head before swallowing as much as possible. You groan immediately, feeling her tongue lash against your shaft. You begin to grow hard in her mouth, forcing her to back away as her lips become stretched out. Nayeon swirls her tongue around the head. You moan her name in response. You feel a smile form as she hears that. Nayeon pops you out of her mouth and runs her full lips along your shaft, lapping up the remaining cum on it. 

“I guess you like it when I use my mouth,” Nayeon says as she plants a kiss on the tip. “Maybe I’ll use it more often if this isn’t the last time we fuck.”  She comments before opening her mouth to show you she drank all of your cum. 

Not a second later, the door opened and shut. “Alright, it’s time to go,” Moonbyul said as she turned around. She covered her eyes and turned to face the door the moment she spotted Nayeon nearly completely naked. “Oh, for crying out loud. Couldn’t you have locked the door or put a sock on the handle?” 

Nayeon grabs her sweater, covering her chest with it in a panic. “Sorry, but I hadn’t expected someone to barge in.” You reply.

“Shut your mouth and grab your things; both of you, we are leaving.” Nayeon throws her sweater back on and rushes to put her skirt back on as you pull your pants back up. You grab your things, ready to finally leave. “Let’s get going; the faster we do this, the better.” Moonbyul leads you out of the manor, acting as a scout to ensure no one sees you and Nayeon. You exited through one of the side doors, the late evening sky providing just enough darkness to hide among the hedges as you leave the property and find a car waiting for you. The three of you jump in with your things before heading off. You sat in the backseats with Nayeon as Moonbyul sat up front with her co-conspirator. The car ride was silent for the first few minutes before Moonbyul decided to speak up. “Hey, you two. Aren’t you going to say thanks to my partner?”

“Oh, right. Sorry. Uhm, thank you for picking us up…”You grow quiet, realizing you don’t know their name.

“Call me Solar, and it's no problem. Moonbyul’s my partner anyway, and I needed to get her back sooner or later.”

Moonbyul brings the conversation back into focus, “So here’s the plan: we’re going to drop you two off at your new place, and then we’ll drink a lot. I need something strong after working my butt off as a maid. Consider it a cheers to your escape.”

“Yeah, right.” You say as you reach over and grab Nayeon’s hand. “A cheers to freedom.”

“To freedom,” Nayeon says quietly.

[aliteralsemicolon]

3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes

When Spencer doesn’t call at midnight on your birthday like he usually does, you believe he truly wants nothing to do with you because of your fight a few days prior. Until there are two FBI agents knocking on your door, neither of which are your apparently missing boyfriend. 

Spencer Reid X Fem! Reader

DISCLAIMER This story is SFW but mentions strong themes. It is intended for mature audiences only.  You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read. 

WARNING: Mentions of kidnapping, injuries & vague description of panic attack. Proceed at your own risk. 

Word count: 8.6K See notes at end for authors note & spoilers. 

11:57 PM

Eyes trained on the long red hand, you watch as the minutes spin around the clock hanging on the otherwise-empty wall. A century could’ve passed between the last minute and now. It sure as hell feels like it. 

11:58 PM

The movie meant to keep your mind from replaying the events from a few days ago failed its purpose before you even turned on the T.V. If the time between every minute was a century, then the last time you heard from him must have been an eternity ago. When was the last time you heard from him anyway?

“I don’t want to see you anymore. I can’t even bear to look at your face right now.”

In all your time together, Spencer had never once raised his voice at you. The fact remained even during your worst fight yet. God, how you wished he had yelled at you. Maybe then he would’ve needed less time away from you. 

“Yeah? I don’t want to be near you anyway. Not when you’re being like this!”

He was unfair. So were you. Surely neither of you truly meant what was said. You wanted to be near him so, so badly. Did he really not want to see you anymore? He must not, or Spencer would have returned at least one of the twenty four calls he ignored. 

11:59 PM

It was well-intentioned on your part. The migraines were most likely psychosomatic. Otherwise the MRI scans would’ve picked up on the issue. 

“You think I’m crazy? I am not crazy!”

“Spencer, I’m not implying that you are! I’m saying that it’s probably stress induced-”

“No! No. That’s not what you really think, is it? Go on, say what you really mean.”

“GOD SPENCER! You think that just because your mother is a paranoid schizophrenic, I think you must be one too? You’re completely reaching! You just don’t want to deal with the reality that maybe it is all just in your head!”

12:00 AM

Perhaps he did mean what he said. He’d still call though, right? If not to return one of your voicemails then to wish you a happy birthday? After everything the two of you shared together he should at least call today. 

“Leave. Please.”

“Spencer..”

“Stop. Please. Leave.”

“Wait Spence-”

Unsure of how much longer you could hold out, you uncurl from your fetal position on the sofa and reach over for your phone. Vision peeling from the wall-clock and redirecting to the photo on your lockscreen. How beautiful he looked adorned on your screen. Then again, he always looked beautiful. 

12:31 AM

‘Twelve thirty one’ read the time on your screen. The first thirty one minutes of your birthday were spent replaying exactly what you wanted to avoid. He must’ve fallen asleep. He would never intentionally miss his tradition of wishing you a happy birthday, 12AM, on the dot. “That was before you ruined everything”, your mind began. “You ruined everything”, it repeats over and over in a mantra. 

“He hates me. He would’ve called if he didn’t.” a whisper only for yourself to hear. Minutes passing you by once more as you begin your spiral into doubt and self-hatred. Tears completely stain your skin, clothes, the blanket hugging your legs. Your vision is too blurred to notice it. What you do notice is that you can not breathe. Shit. You can not breathe. 

“Five things” You can almost hear his voice whisper into your mind. “Five things”, you repeat aloud.

“Five things you can see.” As his voice begins to guide, your eyes frantically wander. “The blanket on my lap. My hands curled on top of it. The coffee table in front of me. The T.V playing across from me. The wall-clock hanging just above on the wall behind.”

“Four things you can touch” Not waiting a second before answering to the thought of his voice: “The cushion next to me. The couch beneath me. The sweatshirt I’m wearing. The rings on my fingers.”

“Three things you can hear” Tuning your focus on the sounds around you continue, “The T.V playing. The cars passing by outside. That stupid wall-clock ticking.”

“Two things you can smell” This one was always your least favourite because you had to think the hardest. You could hardly breathe a minute ago and your nose is clogged. How can you smell anything? “I can’t smell anything. I can never smell anything.”

“That’s okay. It’s okay. Just tell me one thing you can taste” . His voice was engraved in your brain. You probably couldn’t forget it if you tried. “Salt.”

Shoulders slumping into your body, you wipe the tears clouding your line of sight and dare to look up at the clock once again. If it could speak it would probably taunt you for your pathetic state. 

12:56 AM

You barely make out the time as your eyes begin to cloud again. At least you can breathe normally now. Except your head is throbbing, your eyes are sore and you’re so tired. Sinking back into your previous fetal position, you feel your body give out. As you drift off, you make one final plea for your sanity: “He probably just fell asleep. He’ll call when he wakes up.”

The pounding headache was bad enough, but the rapid pounding against your door made you want to shout violently. As if your body was now on auto-pilot, you attempt to jump up from your position on the sofa - only to not so gracefully trip over your blanket and almost face plant into the coffee table. “Fuck-AH-bitch”, you grumble just as you manage to catch yourself. “I’m coming in just a minute!” Yelling for the very impatient recipient at the other side of your door. You quickly give the clock a glance before making your way to the hallway mirror. 

2:07 PM

You aren’t vain, you’re just a decent enough human to save the person outside your apartment a jumpscare from your post-ugly-crying state. When you stood in front of the mirror and actually saw yourself for the first time today, you didn’t believe there was anything you could do to save that person. That person could be Spencer. So you gave it an attempt, regardless, quickly brushing your hair out with your fingers and wiping the dried tears from your face. Finally shuffling to the door, you take a deep breath as you unlock it. He probably just showed up instead of calling. At least that’s what you wanted to believe.

“Oh. Derek? JJ?”, instead you find two of his friends and FBI profilers, who definitely caught the disappointment in your voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey Pretty Girl. Any chance Pretty Boy is somewhere behind you?” Morgan asks, slightly concerned by your poorly concealed state.

“Hi, sorry, no, he’s not here.” You blurt out as you make eye contact with your nosy neighbour passing by. You consider inviting the agents inside for privacy, but remember that your living room shares the same messy look as you and abort that thought. 

“Can we come inside?” JJ asks for you, also noticing the unwanted eavesdropper.

“Um, sure”,  you hesitate, clearly embarrassed. “Excuse the mess, I wasn’t expecting company.” The agents share a look that you miss and follow behind as you quickly begin to tidy up a little. 

“Hey, are you okay?” JJ follows up. 

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine. Why are you looking for Spencer here?” You were deflecting. She definitely knew that you were deflecting, but didn’t push further and for that you were grateful.

“He’s not at work and he’s not picking up his cell. So we thought he might be with you.” Morgan answers you, taking a quick glance around. 

“When did you last talk to him?” JJ cuts in.

“Uh, two days ago I think?” Your breath hitches at your first reminder of the fight you had. 

“Two days?” JJ’s brows furrow in a questioning manner towards Morgan, who looks just as confused. “Are you sure?” He chimes in, not waiting for your reply before he dials a number on his phone and rushes off towards your kitchen. 

“Yes, I’m sure…” your eyes follow him as he disappears and quickly snap your attention back towards the blonde woman in front of you. “JJ what’s going on?” 

“Exactly what time did you last see him?” She ignores your question. The slight panic in her voice is contagious and begins to shift into you. “Well I don’t know the exact time, but I’d guess some time just before midnight? When did you last see him?” 

Before she can answer, Morgan calls your name as he walks back in. “Get dressed. You’re gonna need to come back to The Bureau with us.” 

“The Bureau? Okay, seriously guys, what’s going on?” 

“I’ll explain later. JJ and I are gonna wait here while you get dressed okay?” His tone was assertive. 

“No, you’re going to explain right now actually, what the fuck is going on?” But you were too worried to care about his tone. 

He took a deep breath, clearly frustrated. “Spencer’s been missing for two days. ” Realisation spreads across JJ’s face as she puts the pieces together, “ And I think you might’ve been the last person to see him.”

3:42 PM. 

You were currently sitting alone in one of the interview rooms at the FBI Headquarters, phone in hand, repeatedly checking the time. Morgan and JJ gave you time to clean up and get dressed before leaving your apartment. None of you uttered a single word on your way here and JJ led you into this room, telling you to get comfortable and to let her know if you needed anything. 

Somebody was supposed to come in and interview you, but you had been waiting for at least twenty minutes now. The room itself was mostly empty, except for two muted couches in the middle facing each other, separated by a small table. An old rug laid under the setting and a couple of stock pictures were hung on the walls. You had taken JJ’s invitation and claimed a spot in the corner seat of one of the couches, facing the door, but sitting as far away from it as you could. 

The air conditioner was set at room temperature but everything felt cold. Spencer was missing and you were definitely the last person to see him. You felt like the worst person in the world right now. The man that you loved more than anything in the world was missing and the last thing you ever said to him was that you didn’t want to be around him. 

What did missing even mean in this situation? Did he just decide to up and disappear? That would be believable if he was anybody else, but this was Spencer. He would still say goodbye to his friends before leaving. Friends who were also his coworkers. Coworkers at his extremely dangerous job. If Spencer was missing then it wasn’t because he chose to be. Which means that there’s a strong possibility that he’s really hurt, or dead.

Your mind was filled with so many concerns and had you not heard the door handle click, you probably would’ve driven yourself into another panic attack. A raven-haired woman walks into the room and takes a seat opposite to you on the couch across yours. 

“Emily!” 

“Hey, how are you holding up?” 

“Have you found Spencer? Is he okay-” The questions begin piling out of you.

“Woah, take a deep breath okay.” She cuts off your worrisome ramble before it begins. 

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” You cry out in frustration before catching your tone. You take a short, deep breath and continue, “I’m sorry. I’m just really worried okay. I’ve been here for god knows how long and nobody will tell me anything and I just really need to know if Spencer’s okay.”

Emily slightly tilts her head as she looks at you, slightly narrowing her eyes in sympathy. “It’s okay, I understand. You feel really isolated right now because you don’t know what’s going on,” she leans in a little “but the truth is, we don’t entirely know what’s going on either. All we know is that Spencer hasn’t been to work in two days and you were the last person to see him.”

You stare back at her with an apologetic look and the two of you share a brief silence of understanding. As worried as you were right now, you had to remember that Emily and everybody else in the BAU were also extremely worried. You nodded, not saying anything.

“I need you to tell me about the last time you saw him." She’s the first to break the silence.

Instead of simply responding, you stare at her blankly. You opened your mouth to speak, but no sound would come out. It was like you physically couldn’t respond. You couldn’t even let yourself think about the last time you saw him. The guilt was overbearing, it was pushing tears to well in your eyes. Sighing, you take a gulp and try to get yourself together. Eyes wandering everywhere except towards Emily.

“You okay?” She questions for the second time, giving you the same narrow-eyed look as before, but this time there’s concern behind her eyes.

You try to respond but all you can do is bite the inside of your cheek. Emily’s presence was a welcome distraction from the current situation, until it wasn’t a distraction anymore. She’d unknowingly pushed you back into the headspace you desperately needed to stay out of to keep composed. It wasn’t her fault, you knew she was just doing her job. However, right now you desperately needed her to go away or you were going to completely break down.

Then for the first time in days the universe took pity on you. It leaned into the room in the form of one colourful Penelope Garica, giving you a rushed greeting and ushering Emily out of the room.

“Hey Em, sorry to interrupt, but we need you in the conference room. By that I mean like yesterday.” Garcia turned towards you and squeaked a sad “Good to see you again, I wish it was under different circumstances.” before disappearing. Emily drops a quick “Excuse me” as she gets up and disappears after her.

You knew she would be back. For now, you had time to calm down and you were extremely grateful for that. Taking deep breaths, you check your phone again. There on your screen was Spencer, smiling back at you brightly. You glance at the time again.

4:03 PM

Your eyes instantly land back on his face. They must have stayed staring for a while; before you knew it Emily had re-entered the room. “What’re you doing there?” The sudden interruption from her voice pulled you out of your trance. “Huh? Oh-Sorry, I was just checking the time.” A half-lie. “It’s 4:17.”

No verbal response. Her only response was a look you couldn’t entirely make out as she took a seat in her previous place. “Emily, is everything okay? Did something happen?” 

“I need to tell you something and you need to listen to the full thing, okay? Spencer’s been kidnapped.” She nervously bit her lip as she broke the news to you. “Garcia pulled a recording from a surveillance camera on the street outside your apartment building.”

“What..” You interrupted, unintentionally. “What do you mean kidnapped? Outside my apartment?”

“Look. I won’t lie to you, this is bad. You were the last person to see Spencer and then he’s taken from outside your apartment-”

“Wait a minute, are you telling me that I’m a suspect?” The second time you cut her off, she leans forward and takes your hand in hers. “Listen to me. The whole thing okay? No interruptions.” Her patient tone gives you some comfort. You nod, giving her the go ahead to continue. 

“Now, in normal cases, those closest to the victim would be looked at as initial suspects. But this is not a normal case. You aren’t a suspect but you might be the key in finding him. I’m going to play the recording for you in just a minute and I need you to tell me if you recognise anything. Before I play anything though, we’re going to have to run a cognitive interview and recall your last day with Spencer. I understand that it may be hard, but if you want to help find Spencer, you’re going to have to.”

As your mind processes her words, your hand attempts to close into a fist and squeezes hers. “Emily, I can’t” are the only words you can bring yourself to say.

“Why?” She’s quick to ask in surprise. 

“Because it’s horrible, Emily. The last thing we did was fight. The last thing I told him was that I didn’t want to be around him.” You spit out before you can stop yourself. 

The woman sighs as she mumbles your name, “You can’t possibly blame yourself for this. All couples fight. You couldn’t have known this would happen. I promise you, no matter how bad you think it is, it really cannot be worse than not finding Spencer.”

Her words are blunt, but her voice is empathetic. It’s just what you needed to hear to break out of your ego. “Okay, what do you need?”

“I need you to close your eyes okay. Just listen to the sound of my voice as I guide you.” The brunette instructs. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath. “Think back to that day. What were you doing when you first saw Spencer?”

“We met at our favourite café after he got home from work. He had missed our date the night before and wanted to make it up to me. I was checking the time when I heard him call out my name from behind me.” You begin to recall.

“Okay, you turn around to see him. What’s happening around you? Is it busy?” 

“No, it’s actually really quiet compared to usual. There’s maybe four or five other people here besides us.”

“What was Spencer like? His behaviour, was he acting like he normally does when you’re together?”

“He was pretty normal at first. He just looked tired, more than he usually does. But it wasn’t until we started talking that I noticed that something was off.”

“What was off?”

“He just wasn’t present like he usually was. I could tell that he wasn’t feeling great, so I insisted we go back to his place. It was closer than mine.”

You continued recalling the events of the night. When you turned on the light as you entered his apartment, he hissed slightly. That’s when you realised what was going on. He admitted that his migraines were back after some pushing. You asked him if he’d gone to the doctors and he told you how they’d found nothing again. You sat him down on the couch, got him some painkillers and brewed some tea for him. He began ranting about how there had to be something wrong. That’s when you suggested that the migraines could be stress induced. The two of you began arguing not long after that. 

“Spence, have you, maybe, considered that the migraines are psychosomatic? Probably from all the stress you face at work?”

“What does my job have to do with this? What are you saying?”

“I’m just saying that you have a stressful job. It can take a pretty heavy toll. Stress is a common factor for migraines.”

“No, not like this. I just need to find another doctor. One that can actually help.”

“How many doctors will you see before you finally understand that it’s in your head?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. I’m sorry, I should have worded that better.”

“You think I’m crazy? I am not crazy!”

“Spencer, I’m not implying that you are! I’m saying that it’s probably stress induced-”

“No! No. That’s not what you really think, is it? Go on, say what you really mean.”

“What? No. That’s not at all what I’m saying.”

“But it’s what you’re thinking”

“No, it’s what you’re thinking, Spencer.”

“Don’t hold back now, just come out and say it.”

“GOD SPENCER! You think that just because your mother is a paranoid schizophrenic, I think you must be one too? You’re completely reaching! You just don’t want to deal with the reality that maybe it is all just in your head! … I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“Leave. Please.”

“Spencer..”

“Stop. Please. Leave.”

“Wait Spence-”

“I don’t want to see you anymore. I can’t even bear to look at your face right now.”

“Yeah? I don’t want to be near you anyway. Not when you’re being like this!”

Emily’s hand on your shoulder pulled you out of your head, “Hey, it’s okay. Take a deep breath for me.” And so you do, in through your nose and out through your mouth. Once she’s sure you're calm, she leans back in her seat and continues, “You’re doing great. I need you to go back to the café. Was there anything or any one out of place?” 

You think back. You and Spencer were sitting just by the entrance. There was another couple ordering at the counter. You could smell flowers. Not the nice, light, floral kind of scent. It was the loud, head-ache inducing, overpowering roses kind. It was coming from your left, where there were two old ladies sitting not too far from your table, lost in their own conversation. Behind them, in the far left corner, there was a man sat glaring at Spencer. You couldn’t really see the man that well but, nothing felt out of place. 

“No.” You mumble in disappointment, unable to remember anything out of the ordinary. Wait. The man in the corner. “Yes, yes there’s some guy. He’s barely in my vision, but he was glaring at Spencer. I made eye contact with him once as I entered but I didn’t think anything of it.”

“I need you to really think hard,” Emily urges, “What can you remember about this man? Any distinct details?”

“Um, he was dressed in dark clothing and wearing a beanie. There isn’t really anything that stands out. I’m sorry Emily.”

“No, it’s okay you did great. You can open your eyes now.” You do so, greeted by the sight of Emily across from you fidgeting with the tablet in her lap. “I’m going to show you the recording and I need you to tell me if you recognise anything from it.” 

She passes the tablet over and you click play. It’s a little blurry but you can see Spencer walking on the street outside your apartment building. It looks like he’s making his way over to your place. A man shows up out of, seemingly, nowhere and bumps into him. Spencer appears to become drowsy, unable to coordinate his movement at all. Thirty seconds later, a black van pulls up and that same man from before yanks your boyfriend into the van before it drives off. 

Your stomach drops. “Fuck, Emily! He was right there. He was right outside my apartment. They took him…I should’ve…oh my god..” If you thought you were gonna have a panic attack before, you were in for a heart attack now. 

Emily tries to call your attention using your name as she grabs hold of your hands, “You need to take some more deep breaths okay, panicking now is not going to help.” She’s right. Spencer has already been kidnapped, panicking isn’t going to bring him back. The video replays in your head, you recognise something.

“Wait Emily..the man - that man from the café. That’s the same man. The one who bumped into Spencer. He’s wearing the same clothes and everything. Oh my god, was he following us the whole time?” The realisation seeps through your body and shivers run down your spine. Spencer was being watched the entire time you were together. “Why did they wait? Why didn’t they just take me out and then kidnap Spencer?” 

“I don’t know the answer to that, but you’ve helped a lot. Now I’m going to go and tell the rest of the team what you’ve told me, okay? But you need to stay here.” 

“Why? I can’t just wait here forever, how is that gonna help?” you question. You couldn’t just sit here alone with your thoughts, you needed to get out. 

“Those men that took Spencer, they clearly know about you. This puts you in danger and we don’t know what their plan is. Here is the safest place for you to be. I’m going to send an agent to sit outside that door,” She points at the brown door that serves as the only entry and exit to the room you’re currently in, “His name is Agent Anderson. You tell him if you need anything at all, but you need to stay here. Please.”

You watch her stand up hurriedly and head for the door. You know she’s right. They can’t search for Spencer if they also have to worry about your safety. Getting Spencer back was the most important thing. “Okay.” You agree. “But Emily,” she turns back to look at you from the doorway, “Please bring him back, okay?” 

“We will.” She Promises. It may be an empty promise. There’s no guarantee that he’s even alive, but it's enough to keep you hoping for now. Spencer has to be okay. 

Spencer’s POV

It’s not very often a person finds themselves escaping death’s grasp. The chances of the same person escaping death twice is even less likely. Yet here I am, in the back of an ambulance, on my way to the hospital, having escaped death for the second time in my life. Hopefully, it won't cost me an addiction this time. “Rossi this is ridiculous, I’m fine!” I insisted to the older man next to me, looking over me like a watchdog. I was already aware that my injuries were serious enough to warrant a hospital visit, but I hoped that the EMT’s would ignore that regardless. I need to get back to her, I just want to hold her as soon as possible. “Sir, you need to lie back down” I hear a voice instruct from my right. Then I hear Dave from my left.

“Kid, you are not fine. The sooner we get you to the hospital the sooner you can leave. Now lie back down and let the medics do their job.” How am I supposed to stress the seriousness of the situation in my drugged up state? My girlfriend is in danger! “No Rossi, I need to see that she’s alright, you don’t understand. They got me from right outside her apartment, they know about her!” Why doesn’t he understand? “Reid, relax. She’s been at headquarters since yesterday afternoon. She’s fine. She’ll meet you there, Anderson’s driving her there as we speak.” I have to count on this reassurance for the time being, because I was clearly not getting my way anytime soon. 

Wait yesterday? “No Rossi, that's not right. What day is it? What time?” Guilt surged my veins, did I really miss the most important day of the year? “It’s Friday. Wait no, Saturday now, about uhhh,” he paused “1:43 AM.” No, no, no. “Saturday? She spent her birthday at headquarters? That wasn’t the plan!” I desperately needed to explain something to Rossi, but I couldn’t find the right words. I couldn’t even fully remember what I needed to explain. “Okay, Sir, I’m going to have to inject you with a light dose of tranquillisers if you don’t calm you down.” I hear the voice on my right say. 

“No, don’t touch me! Get away from me! Rossi-” My objections are interrupted by Rossi on the left again “Kid, you’re heavily drugged right now and you’re not making sense. You need to calm down. Just do as the nice lady says.” I’m entirely perplexed. What lady? And where am I right now? I try to make sense of my situation but my senses are suddenly taken over by a strong sense of drowsiness. I feel at peace, but something has to be wrong because I can hear rapid beeping behind me. “Sir, you need to keep your eyes open, do not fall asleep!”

Your POV

Somebody’s hand hesitantly shaking your shoulder wakes you up. You slowly open your eyes to see Agent Anderson crouching in front of you. Before he can get a word in edgewise, you start throwing out questions at the poor man and rush to sit up-right. “Agent? What happened? Did they find him? Is he okay?” The rapid fire of questions knocks your own breath out of your lungs and forces you to pause for a deep breath, allowing Anderson to cut in. “They found him! I’m not entirely sure of his condition, but he’s on his way to the hospital and so is the team. I can drive you so you can meet them there.” He stands up and walks towards the door, holding it open for you.

“Yes! Please! Let’s go!” You don’t even hesitate as you respond, jumping up from your seat and practically running towards the door. The journey from the building, to the car, then to the hospital is another blur. Spencer fills your mind, as usual, while your eyes are fixated on the time displayed on the dashboard. You watch the minutes pass the whole ride. ‘2:13 AM, 2:14 AM, 2:15 AM, 2:16 AM’ and finally as you arrive at the hospital:

2:17 AM

“You head on in, I’m going to park and follow behind you.” Anderson breaks the streak of silence. The car barely comes to a stop before you jump out and make a bee-line for the doors. You probably look like a maniac running up to the reception desk. “Hi Ma’am, how can I help you?” The receptionist asks unfazed, probably used to seeing maniacs like you. “Spencer Reid. That’s the patient's name. Where is Spencer Reid?” You pester urgently. “Just a moment please.” The receptionist smiles as she begins to type on her keyboard. She turns back to you after a few seconds, instructing you on where to go. “Thank you!” You don’t even blink after she’s done speaking and immediately head towards where you're guided. 

As you enter the waiting room, you’re greeted with the faces of his team from the BAU. “Hi! There you are!” Garcia is the first to notice you, coming in for a hug. “Hey, how is he?” you ask hugging back, no time for proper pleasantries. The rest of the team start making their way up to you one by one for a quick greeting too. “We don’t know yet, the doctor should be out soon to let us know.” Derek, the last one to hug you hello, answers. That’s never good to hear, nervousness covering your face. “Don’t lose hope, he’s going to be just fine!” Rossi interjects your train of thought before it can even begin. Damn profilers. Anderson, true to his word, shows up too. 

Feeling slightly ashamed for your rushed behaviour you apologise and thank him for his patience. He assures you that there’s no need and he understands, before Hotch sends Anderson home for the weekend. It seems like everybody in that room takes turns sitting and pacing around. Everyone except you. Your eyes are glued to the clock at the entrance, occasionally making small talk with the others. It’s officially been three excruciating days since you’ve last seen Spencer and even now, as he’s just a few metres away, you’re unable to see him. “Happy belated birthday.” Rossi whispers, taking a seat next to you. You turn to face him, slightly stunned. “Sorry?” 

“I said happy belated birthday.” He repeats. You can only return a puzzled look, unable to muster the common ‘thank you’. “Spencer. He told me, in the ambulance.” He answers your unasked question. A single tear manages to escape your eye before you sniffle and re-adjust to compose yourself. 

“How bad is it?” Your boyfriend's condition is your immediate concern. 

“You know it’s funny,” the old man ignores your question, knowing it’s better to not worry you further, “the whole ride here the kid would not stop going on about needing to be there for you. It’s like he was unable to comprehend anything in regards to himself. And now here I am, talking to you, and it’s like you’re unable to comprehend anything that doesn’t concern him.” He takes an almost dramatic pause so he can look you in the eyes, like he’s trying to pass on an unspoken message. Whatever that message was, you didn’t understand it. 

He knew you didn’t, because he continued, “even in extreme situations like this one, you think about each other before you think of yourselves. You truly love each other. So, whatever happened before this, let it go. Feeling guilty about it won’t help.” With that he got up from his seat and headed towards the vending machine. Damn profilers. You don’t have a chance to linger on his advice for too long before the doctor shows up. “Spencer Reid?”

Everybody gathers almost immediately around the doctor, waiting to be updated. “He’s got a broken rib, minor concussion, a few deep bruises, specifically around the abdomen, and other minor cuts and bruises. Other than that he’s been heavily sedated, but he’s going to be fine. He’ll be knocked out for a couple of hours, but he’ll be just fine. You’re welcome to see him now, but only two at a time please.” Almost immediately as the doctor leaves, the group turns to look at you and JJ pipes up first. “Would you like to go in first?” 

You couldn’t wait to see him before, but now the nerves were getting to you. “No. You guys go in first.” 

“Are you sure?” Emily asks. 

“We’re allowed two at a time, you know.” Derek reminds you.

“Yeah! The rest of us can take turns while you sit with him!” Garcia pipes up, softly.

“No, come on guys. He’s just as important to you as he is me. Besides I’ll be here for a while, the rest of you need to get home. I can see him after.” You reason. 

“Okay. If you insist. But if you change your mind, let us know.” Emily nods, as she begins to head towards Spencer’s room.

You were sitting in the waiting room once more, while the team had taken turns going in and out of Spencer’s room. Eyes trained on the clock, again. 

4:31 AM

Most of the team had headed home by now. You were honestly surprised they stayed as long as they did, knowing how late it was and how exhausted most of them were. The only people left besides you were Derek and Hotch. Jack was away at a sleepover so Hotch decided to stay longer, feeling responsible for Spencer. “What’s going on in that mind, Pretty Girl?” Derek now sat across from you.

“Derek!” you jumped slightly, not expecting him. “Nothings going on. Why? Is Spencer okay?” 

“You know you keep doing that. Deflecting.” He doesn’t let you get away with it this time. 

“I’m not.” You persist. 

“You are. Look, Spencer’s one of my closest friends and by extension you’re also my friend. I’m not going to force you to talk about it if you don’t want to, but just know that I am here to listen.” He persists harder.

“Derek, I just…I don’t know what to say. Not just to you, but to him. The last time I saw him, we fought. He said he didn’t want to see me anymore. I know it’s all in my head, but I can’t stop thinking about if he meant it. What if he truly doesn’t want to see me?”

“Woah, woah! Pretty Girl, c’mon. He’s crazy about you, you know that. You’re practically all he ever talks about. I can promise you that no matter how bad you think that fight was, he won’t let it ruin what you have.” The reaffirmations from Emily, Rossi and now Derek were honestly unnecessary. You were a rational person, you already knew everything they’d said to you. The emotions just overpower your rationality at times but hearing those closest to Spencer confirm was how you knew for sure that it’s true. “Thank you, Derek” You responded with a small, but confident smile.

“He’s awake.” Hotch alerts the two of you. FBI training must be heavy on sneak attacks because these fucking profilers had unbelievably light steps. You turn to face the usually monotone man and instead, catch him sporting a relieved smile. He meets your eyes directly as he speaks, “He’s asking for you.” A hopeful huff leaves you as you stand up. “Go get 'em beautiful!” Derek encourages. You thank both him and Hotch, making your way to Spencer's room. You take a deep breath as you approach the door, but before you enter, you make a final note of the time.

4:55 AM

“Hi Angel.” Spencer’s voice weakly acknowledges your arrival in an instant. Your heart feels a mix of hurt and relief at the sight in front of you. His figure’s confined to the gurney and linked with tubes to an IV drip. With every step bringing you closer to him you’re able to make out more of his injuries. Bruises on almost every part of his visible skin, an especially large one covering the surface around his cheekbone, eye and temple. Cuts on his nose, lips, arms - you bite your lip trying to hold back the tears welling you eyes again. “Please say something.” He begs, matching the same pained look as you. 

Rossi’s words were starting to make sense. While you looked at your lover in guilt over his marred state, he looked back at you with guilt for worrying you. “You look like hell.” Maybe not the most sensible thing to say right now, but you didn’t want to cry and worry Spencer further. The poor attempt to lighten the mood showed some success because you earned a light chuckle from your boyfriend. The atmosphere didn’t stay light for long though, the two of you almost instantly falling silent as you stared into his beautiful brown eyes. “I’m sorry.” 

The words fall out from both of you simultaneously. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Angel. You were right and I was being unfair.” Spencer intertwines his fingers with yours, immediately rejecting your apology. “You were,” you agree “but I was also unfair. I shouldn’t have said what I did.” He tries to sit up, wincing from the unanticipated sharp sting. This earns him a soft reprimand from you, reminding him of his broken rib and you instead use the remote to shift the gurney into a position comfortable for him to lean against. “You need to be more careful!” You whine.

“I know, I know. I just, I want to hold you.” He whines back, staring at you with his dangerously powerful puppy eyes. Those eyes were actually dangerous, you had to internally fight yourself to not give in. You opted to meet him half-way and lightly wrapped your arms around his head for a quick hug. “Don’t look at me like that. There will be no holding unless the doctor clears it.” You whispered against his hair before pulling away, not wanting to accidentally hurt him more. “Technically I’m a doctor-” He tries to protest, but you beat him to it. “A medical doctor, Spencer.” 

You pull the chair from behind so you can sit as close to him as possible and take his free hand into yours, holding it tightly. “I’m sorry I missed your birthday.” You look at him in disbelief as the words leave his mouth. “Spencer, forget the stupid birthday please! Actually, can we just stop with the apologies? I’m just glad that you’re okay- sort of.” Your eyes scan over his injuries again as you say the last sentence. “Stop. Don’t do that. I’m okay, I promise.” It’s more of a request than anything else. He doesn’t like being ‘babied’ or pitied. “Angel look here.” his fingers guide your face to meet his eyes.

“I’m okay. These will heal, but please don’t give me that look. I know you want to talk about it and we will, later. Right now I just want to talk to you about anything else.”

“I know you do, it’s just hard Spencer. There’s so much to say and I was so worried. I spent three days thinking you hated me. Well, technically, I actually spent two days thinking you hated me and the third losing my mind about-” 

“Hey, hey, hey,” he cups your face gently to cut off your ramble and keeps his same soft, whispery tone, “I know. I too spent the last 3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes regretting the last thing I might have ever said to you was something I never should have said because I was being an ass.” 

“Don’t say that!” You immediately interject, unable to even think about the meaning behind his words. He brushes a strand of hair out of your face, “Shhhh, just listen.” 

“There’s just so much more I have to say. So much more we need to talk about. And right now I just want to talk to you about anything else, even the little things that don’t matter. Especially the things that don’t matter. So please, just tell me about all the pointless things.” His voice cracks slightly at his plea, his gaze connecting so deeply with yours, tears glazing his lashes.

Stupid puppy eyes. There was no fighting against them this time, you gave in. The two of you talked until the medication knocked him out. It was easy like that with Spencer, you never ran out of topics. Nurses went in and out of the room, hours passed by, but you stayed right there next to him. The next few days were spent in the hospital, you only left to get refreshed if somebody from the team was there with Spencer while you were gone. Spencer was asleep most of the time due to the medication. Everybody from the BAU took turns visiting, Garcia always bringing fresh food with her. 

Before Spencer was discharged, the two of you agreed that it would be best for you to stay with him while he recovered. You wanted to be there for him in case he needed anything and he’d take any excuse to have you near him. It was a smart decision overall, because the broken rib rendered Spencer unable to do almost anything on his own. Which is why you were currently watching him bathe, perched on the edge of his bathroom counter, making sure your boyfriend didn’t accidentally hurt himself further. 

“You don’t have to do this, you know. I’ll be fine.” Spencer insists. “He says, after almost breaking another bone trying to undress by himself earlier.” You snark. 

“I think you’re enjoying this a bit too much.” Amusement surfaces in his voice and it causes you to blush. 

“Careful, handsome, you’re going to work yourself up and end up disappointed.” You successfully fluster him back. The doctor deemed Spencer unfit for any physical activity, much to his dismay. 

“Ughhh,” he groans, dramatically, rolling his head back. “This is so unfai-Ah!” His complaint is cut off by his own shriek while trying to reach the loofah around his back. 

“Shit Spencer!” You panic, hopping off the counter and rushing to his side, grabbing the loofah out of his grasp. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, sorry. I just can’t reach my back, I guess.” 

“That’s literally what I’m here for, dummy. Let me get it.” You shuffle behind him from outside the tub and gently push him forward so you can access his back. 

“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to do this.” There’s a slight hint of embarrassment in his voice. 

“Spencer, love, stop. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Plus, I like taking care of you.” It was true. Doing small things to make his life convenient made you happy. 

“It’s not just because it’s embarrassing. You shouldn’t have to go out of your way for me like this, you have better things to spend your time on.” The insecurity in his words makes your heart ache. Reaching your hand around his jaw, you turn his head back towards you as you lean in to meet his eyes. 

“How can I get it through your thick, beautiful, skull that I want to be here? I want to do this. I want to spend my time with you.” You state matter of factly. He searches your face for any hint of insincerity. Unable to find any, he whispers, “Thank you” and leans in to give you a gentle kiss.

“And plus, you did promise we’d make up for the lost 3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes when you got discharged.” You jokingly remind him of his words to you in a conversation you shared at the hospital. He chuckled and kissed you once more.

“I will.” A re-affirmation of his promise. “But this doesn’t count.”

“How so?” You question. “We’re here together aren’t we?”

“Yes, but you deserve more than this.” He declared. “I’m going to make it up to you.”

“Spencer, you don’t have to make anything up to me. We have to make up for lost time.” 

“Let me make it up to you anyway?” He flashes those damn eyes at you again.

“Just get better first okay, then we’ll talk. Plus you owe me a conversation before anything else.” Normally Spencer was the one who’d have to remind you of things, but today it was the other way around. 

“I guess I do.” He sighs in defeat, “Before we do that I have to tell you something.” 

“Yeah?”

“Rossi offered to throw you a party for your birthday and I kind of, maybe, said yes? It was less of an offer and more of a statement if I’m honest, but I thought you’d like it because you’re a huge fan of his books and always wanted to see his mansion. There’s tons of space for your family and friends too and-”

You cut off his speech with a kiss. “That’s wonderful Spencer, thank you. Tell Rossi I said thank you as well.”

“You’re not disappointed? I know you prefer smaller celebrations and originally I had something else planned but given my current state it’s a bit hard to go through with those plans.”

“Of course I’m not disappointed. I’d be happy with anything as long as you’re there.” You flash him a grateful, genuine smile. He kisses you briefly. Then again. And again.

“As much as I love kissing you, we need to get you to bed. Come on.” The two of you share kisses, giggles and loving looks, as you help him out of the tub, dry him off and get him dressed. Making your way over to the bed, you first help him settle in before getting into your side. It’s clear that Spencer doesn’t know where to start. 

“Let’s start with that night.” You take the lead. He takes a deep breath as he begins to recount the events. 

“I felt terrible after you left. I never meant any of it and I just, I am so sorry.”

“I know. I am too.” You reassured your lover, not wanting him to bear guilt over it any longer. 

“I was on your way to your apartment to apologise when I bumped into the unsub. The next thing I knew I couldn’t feel my legs and was being thrown into the back of the van.” He couldn’t offer you more than the basic details, due to the classified nature of his job. The unsub wanted revenge because Spencer was the reason they were caught in the first place. “I’m sorry” is how Spencer finished his re-telling. 

“Sorry? Why are you sorry, that’s not your fault.” A light, confused chuckle escapes your throat as you speak.

“Because, I put you in danger. Because this job puts me in danger, which always puts you in danger by extension. You deserv-”

“Stop. Spencer, stop.” You cut him off, afraid of what he was insinuating. “Stop telling me what I deserve. I knew what your job was when I entered this relationship. Don’t.” Tears threatening to spill from you, your fingers digging into your own flesh to try and stop them. Spencer noticed, gently coaxing your fingers away from your palm as he massaged your hand lightly. 

“Angel look at me.” He almost commands. You begrudgingly meet his eyes, holding your breath as you mentally prepare for the ‘it’s not you, it’s me speech’ you’d heard before from others. “What’s wrong?” He questions, not entirely sure as to why you were crying. For a genius he could be really unaware of his wording sometimes.

“Why do you keep saying that?” You’re unable to hold your tears. 

“Because I want you to know that I’m going to do better from now. To give you the ‘better’ you deserve.” He wipes your tears, still holding on to your hand. 

“Then why does it sound like you’re trying to break up with me right now?” You sniffle, squeezing his hand slightly.

“I must really suck at communicating, because that’s the exact opposite of what I’m trying to do.” He uses his hand to gently coax your head towards him so he can kiss you. “I want to move in together. With you.”

“You do?”

“Yes. If there’s anything I’ve realised over the past few days, it’s that I really hate being away from you. I hate not being able to see you, hear your voice, feel your touch.” He gives you another kiss. “I am not going anywhere. And I really hope you don’t either. Move in with me?”

You give him a peck. “Yes.” Another peck. “Yes, Spencer, I’ll move in with you.” A deep, longing kiss. You share a few more kisses and then nestle against him. Both of you laughing. 

The next few hours pass with both of you just enjoying being in each other's arms. Gently stroking the others hair, small kisses here and there, ‘I love you’s’ bouncing off from one another. The 3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes spent worrying you won’t see each other again seem so silly now that you’ve got everyday to look forward to. 

“Angel?” Spencer’s voice lulls you out from your semi-conscious state. “Hm?”

“Thank you.” On the surface it was just a simple sentence, but his intention was deeper than that. It was a show of gratitude for you choosing him. For staying with him through the hard times. 

“Always.” Your promise that you’d do it again.

“Spencer?” You say after a second. 

“Yes my love?” Spencer replies.

“Thank you too.” 

“Always.”

Both of you fall asleep cuddling not long after. There were still a few things that needed to be worked out, but one thing was for sure, you were going to wake up next to the love of your life the next morning and then every morning after that. You’d truly found your forever person in each other. 

Spoilers: Hurt, Angst, Fluff, Comfort, Established Relationship.

AN - First fic I’ve ever written. It’s been in my drafts for so long, I’ve edited it so many times. I hope you didn’t feel too edged because 80% of this is without Spencer scenes (I did and I wrote it).

Feel free to drop helpful criticism, I’m always looking to improve. Remember to stay real and respectful :)

Thank you for reading!

[mysaintkitten]

more free use/dumbification for tommy and robert please i beg!! ur so talented!

thank you so much !! and although this request asked for free use or dumbification, it’s mostly the latter. will definitely be writing more free use fics though !!

Nocturnal | Tommy Shelby x fem!reader

prompt: a late night run in with Tommy (lol)

WARNINGS: SMUT (18+ MDNI), sort of mean tommy, unprotected sex, dumbification

Ada Shelby had been your closest friend for as long as you could remember. Everything you’d been through, good and bad, was made manageable with her by your side. The only thing you couldn’t stand was her brother, Tommy. Just the thought of him alone made you want to roll your eyes.

He was arrogant, stubborn, dominant, and worst of all: devilishly attractive. It drove you mad. How could such a gorgeous face be attached to such a vile man?

You’d even bicker occasionally over the smallest things before Ada would come between you and act as a mediator, because of course neither of you could push your pride down long enough to just end the conversation.

But, due to life simply being unpredictable, you had to distance yourself from Ada for about a year. You still stayed in touch, weekly letters updating each other about your lives and new experiences, but life had just become too hectic to make genuine plans.

Luckily though, things began to mellow out and eventually you and Ada were able to make plans to have a sleepover- just like old times.

The two of you spent the late night and early a.m’s chatting and giggling like school girls, until you noticed Ada’s faint snoring as you told a long elaborate story about a horrific professor you had to deal with. With that, you realized the night had come to a close.

Before you followed her in drifting to sleep, you decided to get a drink of water before bed. Tiredly, you left her bedroom and trudged towards the dimly lit room. As you stepped into the kitchen and reached for a glass from the cupboard, you quickly realized you weren’t alone.

“(Y/N)?” You hear a familiar male voice mutter from behind you, causing you to jump and nearly drop the glass out of your hand from being startled. You swiftly turn around on your feet, only to see Tommy sitting there. Of course he’s around the moment Ada’s asleep.

As he sees your face he chuckles and brings a cigarette up to his lips, “didn’t mean to scare you, love.”

“A bit late for that …” you mumble back while trying to relax your racing heart, “why are you up so late?”

Tommy raises his eyebrows and smirks before answering, “I could ask you the same question.”

“Me and Ada were talking, I wanted some water before bed,” you answer as you fill your glass up, “and you?”

“What were you two girls gabbing about? Makeup? Boys?” Tommy replies while ignoring the question you’d asked him, you shake your head and sigh. Tommy knows where your aspirations lie, he’s just trying to push your buttons.

“I don’t exactly have time for a boys right now, my focus is on university,” you clarify before taking a sip of water.

Tommy chuckles condescendingly as he hears you mention ‘university’, earning a confused glare from you as you take a step closer towards Tommy’s seat at the kitchen table.

“What’s funny?”

“Oh, nothing,” Tommy assured unconvincingly between inhales, “I just don’t think university is the best way for a young woman to spend her time.”

Your face contorts into visual disdain, it’s times like this where you wonder if he’s being obnoxious just to piss you off or if he’s truly just this annoying, “and where exactly do you think a young woman should be spending her time?”

“Women are happiest when they’re kept in their place,” Tommy explained flatly as he takes a drag of his cigarette, “doing housework in the day, and in bed taking her husband’s cock at night.”

You couldn’t help but scoff at his ignorant and blatantly misogynistic remarks, what kind of women has Tommy been around for him to genuinely believe this?

“I’m not sure what kind of ladies you’ve been seeing, Tommy, but most women I know have dreams, ambitions, goals,” you retort as you take another step closer towards Tommy with a foreign sense of confidence, “and they desire much more in life than being just some man’s personal come dump.”

He chuckles while putting out his cigarette, proceeding to stand to his feet and slowly make his way over to you,

“Thats what you all think,” Tommy states lowly as he walks closer and closer, “that you’re special and different, but really, you’re all the same. Once you get fucked so good you’re seeing stars, all those little dreams go out the window.”

You step backwards ploddingly as your cheeks burn, not knowing how to respond to Tommy’s crude comment. Suddenly, his face is mere inches away from yours.

“And judging by your little proclamation,” Tommy’s gaze drifts to your soft lips before locking eyes with you again, “you haven’t experienced that, love.”

You couldn’t define what you were feeling, frustration? Exhaustion? Arousal? Your body buzzed with inscrutable energy, and the rational part of your brain attempted to take over and de escalate the situation.

“I-I should just go to bed, Tommy …” you whine weakly as your eyes nervously dart around, suddenly finding Tommy’s stare and demeanour incredibly overwhelming. His dominance mixed with the masculine scent of whisky and tobacco made your heart flutter.

“Why don’t you just see what it’s like, hm?” Tommy purrs as he places his hands on your hips, you suck in a quick surprised breath- but you don’t push him away, “to get fucked so good you forget your own name …”

You didn’t know what came over you; maybe it was the fact that it had been so long since you’d been properly touched, or because part of you had some sort of attraction toward Tommy, but you found yourself wanting more.

Tommy notices your hesitance and tries to warm you up the best way he knows how by placing gentle kisses on your neck, causing your mouth to drop open with a small gasp. He smirks when you react exactly how he was expecting you to. As he continues to kiss, his left hand snakes down your back and grips your ass.

“What if Ada hears …” you whine back, feeling pitiful at how easily you gave into his advances. Tommy hums against your neck before pulling his head out and easing his hand up to the small of your back.

“She’s a heavy sleeper, we’ll be fine,” Tommy breathed as he feels his straining cock twitch in his pants. With his hands on your hips, he turns you around so your back is flush against the front of his body.

“Hold on to the counter,” Tommy coos into your ear as he grabs your wrist with his strong hands and placed them onto the counter in front of you, “and keep your mouth shut.”

You anxiously grip the counter, involuntarily noticing your equally high levels of lust and consternation. You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth when you feel Tommy’s hands begin to bunch up the back of your dress, appreciating the view of your ass with a low grunt. With his free hand, he hooks his finger into your panties and tugs them to the side, uncovering your holes for him.

Using the same hand, he runs his middle and ring finger between your folds while you already start to struggle staying quiet, he chuckles breathily as he feels your arousal spill onto his fingers.

“Do you always get this wet when men force themselves onto you?” Tommy groans as his fingers slide up towards your clit, rubbing small circles onto the sensitive nub from behind. Instead of answering, you can only moan for him while your core burns hotter with desire.

“Poor girl, so eager for cock she can’t even talk,”

With his hips pressed against your ass, he hastily yanks his pants down to free his member, it’s heat laying tantalizingly against your cheek. He grasps the base of his length and aligns it with your opening, forcing himself inside with one abrupt thrust.

You yelp unexpectedly at the fullness before biting your lip again, mumbling a few apologies as Tommy keeps his cock deep inside you before pulling out and slamming back into you.

With each thrust, the ability to stay quiet is growing more difficult. You continue to bite your lip so hard it may draw blood, but breathy whimpers still get punched out despite your best efforts.

“O-oh, fuck-“ you moan as you feel Tommy’s balls brush against your clit with every pump, taunting you with potential friction against your most intimate area.

Tommy changes his angle and slams into your spot head on with seasoned accuracy- clearly his various encounters with women have paid off.

“A-ah!” You sob loudly while your legs shake beneath you, nearly giving out if you weren’t currently white knuckling the countertop. Tommy groans against your neck, his hot breath sending chills down your spine.

“Quiet down, love,” Tommy growls into your ear as he clasps his hand over your mouth, his thrusts becoming deeper and more precise, “we wouldn’t want Ada hearing you.”

With a heavy hand silencing you, Tommy makes his thrusts harsher, almost painfully smashing into your cervix. He mumbles a few praises about how wet you are and how good you feel, your body buzzing from the approbation.

In the midst of ruining you, his hand slips away from your mouth and your needy whimpers can be heard along with Tommy’s heavy breaths. Not loud enough to disrupt Ada, but loud enough to be heard by anyone who could pass by the kitchen. The adrenaline and eroticism causes that intoxicating pressure to begin to build up inside you.

“What would she think, huh?” Tommy teases with a low groan, “seeing her astute friend become a filthy little dumb whore all for her big brother …”

“F-fuck-“ you cry out breathlessly as your sopping cunt flutters around his length, “‘s huge-“

Tommy laughs thinly while slamming into you, “too big for you, sweetheart? Can you feel it stretching out your cunt?”

“Y-yes, fuck-k!”

“(Y/N)?” Ada calls out tiredly from her room, “are you okay?”

Tommy halts his movements inside you, his tip pressing firmly against your spot. You let out a shaky pant before turning around slightly to peak at Tommy. He stares back at you with a cocked brow, silently commanding you to respond to her.

“I’m f-fine, sorry, just bumped my h-hip …” you stammer weakly, barely being able to think of an explanation let alone form a proper sentence while Tommy’s cock is still splitting you open.

Ada’s too tired to pry further, so she just takes you word for it. Once he knows the coast is clear, he slowly builds his thrusts up to that same deep, harsh pace.

“Only thing I told you to do was stay quiet, and you couldn’t even fuckin’ do that, have I fucked you stupid already?” Tommy scolds angrily as he locks a hand into your hair and yanks your head back towards him, the sting of the pull only pushing you closer to your orgasm.

“Uh-huh,” you mewl, the humiliation makes your cunt clench and weep around him greedily, your toes curling as your back arches against him.

“Maybe we should spend more time together, hm?” Tommy decides as he nips your earlobe from behind, licking the shell of your ear soon after, “you get to bitch and moan about how ambitious women are, and then I get to watch you go brainless on my cock. How’s that sound?”

You nod and whimper even though you’re ironically barely processing what he’s saying. Tommy can tell how wrecked you’ve become, and he doesn’t hesitate to relish in it.

“You were much too pretty for a career, anyway,” Tommy insisted as he felt his own orgasm begin to coil up inside him while his grasp on your scalp tightens, “the way your cunts gripping me right now … I think you were crafted for this, love …”

Your senses are overloaded with pleasure and you’re convinced you’ve never been fucked this good before. Sadly, just as Tommy expected.

“C-close,” you stutter as you feel yourself begin to tip over the edge while squeezing your eyes shut tightly. Tommy chuckles and continues the same pace, sneaking one of his hands to the front of your body and placing the pads of his fingers directly onto your clit. Not rubbing, just leaving his digits there with firm warm pressure.

“That’s it, don’t think. Just drench my cock, baby,” Tommy growls as he feels your channel flutter around him. And with a few more pumps, you’re coming around his length. You nearly shout out before Tommy covered your mouth again, not wanting to give Ada a reason to get up and check what was going on herself.

After seeing and feeling your orgasm take over you, Tommy feels the pressure within him begin to burst. And just at the last second, Tommy slides his length out and shoots ropes onto you ass, making sure to not get any on your dress. He can be a gentleman, sometimes.

Once you’ve both ridden out your highs, only then does Tommy release his grip on your hair, both of your bodies achy and sweaty with exertion. He backs himself up and tucks his softening cock back into his pants.

Shakily, you turn around to face him, earning a genuine smile from him as he sees your post-orgasm fucked out expression. Cheeks flushed and eyes still glossy, he could get used to seeing this.

“How about we have another talk in the morning?” Tommy asks in a tone that you can’t exactly read, but judging by his expression and body language- you believe he’s being authentic. And you couldn’t lie, the thought of another ‘talk’ with Tommy is dangerously tempting.

—

I hope I did this justice <\3 as much as I love dumbification I feel like I can’t write it properly :( I’m going to keep trying !! because if I’m anything it’s persistent lmao

[taylorman2274]

We Care About You (Part V)

You are forcibly summoned to Teyvat via dream trawling for answers. A long awaited discussion ensues...

Content Warning(s): Xiao Story Quest Spoilers

Notes: SAGAU; GN!Reader;

Word Count: 1.4k

Previous || Next

Taglist: @silverstarred; @victoria1676; @angelofdarkness2; @areaderspov; @andromeda-gay; @ash1; @mercy-not-merci; @toodledoodl3; @jellyedkazoo; @namine123; @innuwu; @agaygothicmushroom; @tired-of-life-86; @fantasyhopperhea; @sweetsourbxtch;

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After you had decided you were no longer going to play Genshin Impact, you felt as if a massive weight was lifted off your shoulders. Had the past few weeks really taken that much out of you?

"I suppose it did," you assumed as you were playing another game with your friend group. "I haven't felt this relieved in a long while."

You and your friend group spent many hours talking, laughing, raging, and sharing memes. When you noticed it was just past midnight, you felt that it was the best time to get some sleep. You bid goodbye to your friends, closed your computer, and went to take a quick shower.

While in the shower, thoughts began to ruminate in your head. "It's gonna be hard for me to find another game that will get me addicted as much as Genshin did. But maybe something in my backlog might work for now."

The thoughts continued after the shower, after brushing your teeth, and after getting in bed. "I almost forget what game I was playing before I started Genshin. Was it something I finished? If not, maybe I should go back to that."

Before long, you fell asleep. However, unbeknownst to you, your computer mysteriously turned itself back on and began to launch a certain application...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Do I need to remind you again how to perform Dream Trawler?" Xiao asked.

"Nuh-uh," Paimon shook her head, setting down a Seven-Star Lamp. "Paimon has a great memory! First, we offer incense with respect for Rex Lapis. Next, we meditate and think of our target. Then, we shout 'Bring Forth Sin'!

"It's 'Devayaksha, Bring Forth Sin'," the Traveler corrected as they were adjusting the position of the censer.

"Right!” Paimon nodded, setting down another Seven-Star Lamp. “Lastly, we let loose a couple of arrows towards the two yaksha statues to... to uh... uhhh...".

"Tsk. Fools."

This conversation was taking place while the Traveler and Paimon were setting everything up for the Dream Trawler ritual. However, instead of going back to the two yaksha statues on the southern face of Mt. Tianheng, Zhongli suggested they perform the ritual at Luhua Pool.

"If my guess is correct, [Y/N] will most likely panic upon realizing where they are. If that's the case, it would be better for them if they weren't so close to the harbor. It's best if we do not attract any attention."

Both the Traveler and Paimon agreed. Neither of them wanted [Y/N] to be afraid. They only wanted to give them the warmest of welcomes.

"Are you two done yet?" Xiao asked, annoyed at how long it was taking to get everything set up.

The Traveler and Paimon walked up to Xiao. "Yep! Everything's set up just like last time."

Xiao nodded. "Good. Get ready to initiate the ritual."

The Traveler and Paimon nodded in return. They put the incense inside of the censer and began to meditate.

"Since we are dealing with someone from another world, I would imagine that a great deal of focus should be needed to summon [Y/N]. This is especially true since we have no idea what they look like. I'm sure Xiao warned you of the consequences this could cause should you not take this seriously.

Zhongli's words echoed in your mind as you put all of your focus towards [Y/N].

"Hmm..."

[Y/N], who has been with them since the beginning.

"Ohh..."

[Y/N], who has done their best to guide them along their journey.

"Ahh... Hmm..."

[Y/N]. [Y/N]. [Y/N]. [Y/N]. [Y/N].

"Devayaksha, Bring Forth Sin!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

...

... ...

... … …

It's cold.

You shifted in your sleep and immediately felt the lack of bedsheets surrounding your body.

Instead, you felt... rock? Sand?

Slowly opening your eyes, you were met with the cloudy midnight sky, trees with orangish-red leaves, and tall, rocky mountain peaks.

"...Wait. ...Why am I outdoors?"

Your eyes slowly began to adjust to the moonlight.

"...And why does this look so familiar?"

You brought your hand to the ground to begin pushing yourself up, but stopped moving once you noticed the light blue glow surrounding it.

"What the hell?!"

Shocking the exhaustion from your body, you quickly rose up from the floor, nearly losing balance as you stood due to how light you suddenly felt. You looked around the rest of your body and found that you were completely surrounded by the light blue glow.

"This has to be a dream... This has to be..."

"My job is done. I'm leaving now."

Startled, you quickly turned around to find three familiar persons standing a couple of yards away from you.

"Huh? Why don't you wanna stay?" A floating pixie asked.

"...Paimon?"

A short, tattooed man with azure hair scoffed in response. "I don't deal with mortals."

"...Xiao?"

You let out a crazed chuckle. "I've got to be dreaming."

Paimon, oblivious to your decreasing sanity, shook her head. "Nope! We summoned you here via dream trawling. Isn't that great?!"

You were silent for a few seconds before you responded. "Dream... trawling...?"

Sensing that you were still confused, Xiao sighed in annoyance. "You are [Y/N], right?"

Hearing the sound of your name shook some sense into you, but you still involuntarily nodded.

"Good. When you're ready to send them back, speak my name." Xiao told the Traveler before disappearing.

However, seeing Xiao disappear right in front of your eyes shook you even further. "Woah...! That looked way too realistic."

The Traveler let out a small cough to grab your attention. "If you wouldn't mind, [Y/N]. We summoned you here because we've been wanting to talk to you for some time now. Please, grab a seat."

They gestured toward a stone table that was definitely not there the last time you visited. They then sat down on the stone seat facing you. When they looked up, they realized that you hadn't even moved as much as an inch. Additionally, you stared straight at them, yet still appeared lost in thought. Sensing that you may still be bewildered about your current situation, they spoke up.

"You don't need to worry about anything, [Y/N]. There is nothing around here that will hurt you," they gestured to the seat again. "Please."

Had they been unable to see your chest moving in and out, both Paimon and the Traveler would have thought you to be a statue.

"This is a dream. This is real. This is a dream. This is real. This is a dream. This is real..."

Paimon shared a worryingly glance at the Traveler before floating on over to you. You were too oblivious to your surroundings to notice her approaching, but when she finally reached out a hand to tap your shoulder, you flinched back. Hard.

"Wahh! Sorry! Paimon's sorry!" Paimon quickly apologized.

Meanwhile, your brain was working in overdrive to assess the situation. "I felt her! I felt her! I'm not dreaming! I'm not dreaming! This is real! This is real! THIS IS REAL!"

"Paimon get back," the Traveler commanded, standing up from their seat. "They're in shock."

"In shock!? What do we do about that?" Paimon questioned.

The Traveler didn't respond, instead, they slowly began to walk towards you.

Becoming more aware of your surroundings, you noticed the Traveler approaching and slowly began to back up, raising your arms in front of your body. "No no no no. Don't come any closer."

However, the Traveler continued to walk forward one step at a time. They raised their hands up in the air. "It's okay, [Y/N]. It's okay."

You shook your head. "No, it's not okay," you rapidly spoke, breathing loudly. "I'm not supposed to be here."

"Yes, you are. We summoned you here."

You backed up into a broken stone pillar. "Why?" you asked, looking behind you for a quick second. "What did I do?"

They stopped in place before a sorrowful gaze appeared on the Traveler's face. "You’ve done nothing wrong."

Silence hung in the air for an agonizingly long time. Finally, you spoke:

"...Nothing?"

The Traveler nodded. "That’s right. We just want to talk."

You slowly lowered your arms. "About... what?"

Both the Traveler and Paimon smiled. "About our future journey together."

Confusion set upon you once again. "What? But I… I said I was done."

The Traveler sadly shook their head. "We know, but we can't let you leave. Not after all you have done for us."

Paimon chirped in. "Exactly! You're our friend after all!"

Your breathing stopped upon hearing Paimon. After all that effort you put into making amends with them. After believing that it was all for naught.

"You... you see me... as a friend?"

The Traveler nodded, their smile growing bigger. "We do."

Silence fell upon the three of you once again. This time, it was the Traveler who broke it.

"I think it's time we all grab a seat. Shall we?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's Notes: I was originally going to make this longer, but I once again struggled at trying to write this scene out. It's hard trying to figure out how people should believably react to this scenario.

Because it's never happened before, duh.

Anyways, the next part will be the end of this series. Stick around for the ending!

[heich0e]

little!miya gets sick and single dad!osamu is in over his head. the little boy's fever is raging and he's inconsolable, refusing any of the care his papa is desperately trying to offer him.

he's only asking for you.

"W-WHERE'S BABE? I want my ba-aaaaabe," the four year old wails, his cheeks flushed scarlet and snot dripping from his nose as the tears continue.

"babe's at home, buddy. you'll see her tomorrow once ya get some sleep, alright?" osamu wipes at his son's nose as he tries to comfort him but it doesn't help much. the little boy clutches tighter at the plush toy tucked under his arm—one you bought for him on a trip to the aquarium, one of the first days the three of you spent together—and turns his head away from his father petulantly.

"I ONLY WANT BABE."

samu sighs, raking a hand through his greasy hair. he's exhausted. it's been hours of this, and his son is showing no signs of relenting.

finally he cracks, reaching for the phone in his back pocket.

"he's asleep now."

the bedroom door closes behind you with a soft click.

samu is slumped against the wall in the hallway, his knees spread and head hanging, having been banished from the room by his own flesh and blood the minute you showed up half an hour prior.

"thanks fer this," samu says quietly, keeping his voice low as you crouch down on the floor in front of him. "i'm sorry to call so late."

you press a hand to his cheek, running your thumb over the shadow of fatigue inking under his eye. it's darker than usual, and you understand why.

"call me anytime, samu," you reassure him. "you know i'd do anything for you two."

"ya shouldn't have to do this, though," samu mumbles, struggling to meet your gaze that feels too tender—too comforting and familiar and pitying—right now.

"i barely did anything," you argue, a bit indignantly. "i just read him a story and helped him take off his pyjama top so he could 'wear his jammies like papa.'"

samu laughs tiredly at that, a short, wry breath of air through his nose.

"and i didn't have to do it," you add again after a moment, taking both of his cheeks in your hands and forcing him to look at you properly. "i wanted to, because i love you both very much."

samu's eyes are burning. he knows it's because he's overtired. hell, he wouldn't be surprised if he caught whatever virus his son brought home from school. but regardless of the why, the tears are flooding up inside his chest and threatening to spill over.

"love you," samu says, the words all breath and unequivocal truth. "'m glad yer here."

he leans forward and tucks his face into the crook of your neck, and you wrap your arms around him as you welcome it.

you hold him there, on the floor outside his four year old son's bedroom, for as long as he needs you to.

finally, osamu feels a bit more himself, and is ready to pull away. you brush a few strands of his hair out of his gaze once he's extricated himself from your embrace. there's a little twinkle of mischief behind your eyes. "you should go get cleaned up and ready for bed, and i'll go grab that ice cream i hid in the back of the freezer behind the broccoli."

samu smiles, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the edge of your mouth.

"i love you," he says, speaking the words against your welcoming lips.

"you already said that," you tease him, tilting your head so that your reply meets the centre of his own.

"i mean it, though," samu replies, inching back only far enough that he can see both your eyes, the ends of your noses brushing as he watches your lashes flutter. "so, wanna marry me?"

[cupid-styles]

silk and rope

the long awaited ddlg harry and yn pairing has finally arrived!!!

some general disclaimers: I've never been in a relationship like this myself nor have I experimented too much with proper bdsm techniques, so there may be some things that are wrong in this!!!! I did research and tried my best to make it as accurate as possible but pls don't come for me if something isn't right ok thank yoooouuuuuu!!!!!!!

word count: 10.6k

content warnings: daddy dom and sub/little yn relationship, big ol’ daddy kink, basically just a lot of smut (bondage, overstimulation, use of toys, dirty talk, f oral, penetration), discussions of subspace and crappy sexual experiences (nothing forced), yn in little/sub space

"Y/N, I just don't think this is working out anymore."

Normally, Y/N is able to see this coming.

In the past, she's had 20/20 hindsight, predicted when whatever man she was seeing — or rather, submitting to — had finally gotten bored of her, and been able to paste a smile on her face when it finally happened. She could bite her tongue hard enough to prevent the flush that would eventually warm her entire body with embarrassment, mumble out some nonsense response ("okay, that's fine, I appreciate the time we spent together", which was usually a lie anyway), give them a halfhearted hug and let them go.

Todd, however? The world's worst dominant? She seriously can't believe that Todd of all people is ending things.

Realistically, Y/N doesn't really care that Todd isn't interested in dominating her anymore. He was shit at aftercare and only paid attention to maintaining a sexual relationship, as opposed to an emotional one, too. (Y/N's profile specifically said that she was looking for a dominant inside and outside of the bedroom.) So, when it comes down to it, it's fine that Todd is putting a stop to their rather lackluster relationship, but Y/N is unprepared.

Typically, at this point, she already has a date with another dominant lined up for 24 hours from now. She's already talking to other people, listing out her hard limits and what she's looking for, maybe even switching her photos around to change things up after being on this god forsaken website for a year and a half.

And maybe she, too, was so unsatisfied with Todd that she wasn't paying enough attention to realize the end was coming. 

But with her slightly squinted eyes and half-open jaw, it must seem that she's in some sort of immediate stage of heartbreak (she's not, she's just surprised), because Todd goes to sling his arm around her shoulders and presses a kiss to the side of her head.

"It's not you, babe, it's me," he says, and it makes Y/N want to elbow him in the ribs, "Really, you were great. Fantastic every time. Just think I'm looking for someone a little bit more... emotionally stable, y'know?"

That's what breaks Y/N out of her trance, so she quickly rises from her couch and wordlessly opens the front door. 

"Thanks. You can go now."

With furrowed eyebrows, Todd stands up, as if he was expecting her to get down on her knees and grovel at his feet, begging him to stay.

"See, this is what I'm talking about, babe— one second you're all quiet and mousey, and the next you're trying to boss me around like I'm the submissive," he feens offense as he pulls his sneakers on, "I think you should probably get your brain together before you start seeing someone else, it's a real mindfuck."

"Okay," Y/N smiles tightly, gesturing outside to the chilly evening. "See you around, Todd."

The confused expression remains on Todd's face but thankfully, he leaves without another word. Y/N lets out a deep sigh as she shuts the door behind him and locks it up. She grabs one of the leftover muffins she made at work today, plops down on the couch, and turns on the TV to find a show to fall asleep to.

. . .

If Harry's being honest, the bar is the last place he wants to be right now.

And he would be at home if he hadn't blown his friends off for the past three weeks, and Claire hadn't stopped by his desk while he was packing his things up, threatening to kidnap him if he wasn't planning on attending this evening. 

He feels bad, especially because he knows he has the tendency to prioritize work over his friends, so he shoots her a tight smile and tells her to lead the way. 

So now he's at their usual booth in the corner, slowly nursing a lukewarm beer that he'd ordered an hour ago when they arrived. He's halfway listening to a story Lea is telling about her shitty on-again, off-again boyfriend, occasionally suppressing the urge to yawn. He glances down at the watch on his wrist to read the time and promises himself that he'll stay another 30 minutes before ducking out. 

Truthfully, he's bored, and he's tired, and his bed is calling to him in a way that's almost painful. He occupies himself by people-watching, trying to guess who's on first dates or, like him and his friends, getting together for weekly drinks. It's only then that he zeroes in on her — Y/N, that is — sitting alone at the bar top, slightly hunched over as she taps on her phone, a glass of wine in the other hand. 

Harry doesn't know Y/N that well. He knows that she went to college with Naomi, who started inviting her to things around a year ago, and now she's always just around. He's unsure if she actually likes any of them besides Naomi, though — she's quiet and introverted, which Harry respects and understands, but the one-on-one conversations they've had are few and far between. 

But that's why his interest is piqued in the first place. He's never witnessed her sitting alone at the bar, and a twinge of concern fires through him as he watches her. He clears his throat and turns back to the table, unintentionally cutting Lea off. 

"Is Y/N okay?" he asks, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the bar.

"What? I didn't even know she was here," Lea says as she peers over with a shrug, "Seems fine to me."

She continues on with her story and Harry rolls his eyes, grabbing his pint and striding over to where Y/N is sitting. He props himself up on the stool next to her and waves the bartender down, pointing to his glass. 

"Hey, Y/N," Harry greets easily as his glass gets refilled. She looks up from her phone and immediately locks it, as if he's tearing her from some deep thinking, surprised that anyone would come to bother her in a busy pub. "How are you?"

With slightly parted lips, she looks a bit bewildered. "Um... I'm fine. How are you, Harry?"

He swallows, glancing down at the half-full glass of white wine she's drinking. He's never actually seen her drunk, despite near-weekly meetups at this pub. She seems tipsy, not fully under water, though decently buzzed. 

"I'm good, thanks," he forces a smile onto his lips as an effort to seem as though he's not concerned for her wellbeing. "I saw you over here and realized I didn't even say hi to you."

Y/N shrugs. "I didn't really feel like socializing tonight. Naomi kind of dragged me here."

"Ah, Claire did the same to me," Harry replies understandingly, nodding his head, "Said she'd kidnap me if I didn't come out."

She scoffs at that before tilting the glass back towards her lips, taking another hearty gulp. He doesn't miss the thin wince she makes as the liquid touches her tongue, swallowing it down quickly. 

"Is it 'cos you got broken up with, too?" 

Harry's eyes widen at her question, but she's already looked past him, zoning out with a bleary look. 

"Oh... I'm sorry, Y/N. Do you want to talk about it?" 

He's not great at emotional conversations, especially with people he barely knows, but he supposes it's a decent explanation for why she's in this state. He's content with lending a shoulder to cry on, he decides, because he doubts Naomi had done the same.

"It wasn't really a breakup, it's fine," she mutters with a dismissive wave of her hand. "We weren't dating, is what I mean."

Although she attempts at some sort of explanation, Harry's still confused, but he nods as if he understands. 

"Was it like a friends with benefits situation?" he guesses, and she shrugs noncommittally. 

"Kind of."

"So it was complicated, then," Harry murmurs. He gets that — he's been there a thousand times over, and he understands the pain associated with those types of situations.

"It wasn't," she shakes her head, and now Harry knows she's just spewing out drunken nonsense, "He was my... dominant. Or tried to be. He was really fucking shitty at it."

Dominant?

The familiar word echoes through the chambers of Harry's mind. He's certainly not unacquainted with dominant and submissive dynamics, but he's shocked — more than, really — that Y/N refers to a typically taboo word in such a casual way. He chalks it up to the alcohol, but he's still surprised that Y/N even had a dominant to begin with.

"I met him on one of those stupid seeking arrangements websites, which honestly never produces good results," Y/N continues, making Harry's eyes widen even more. He's sure that she would never reveal this information to any of their mutual friends, let alone him of all people. "Every dom I've had from there has been... whatever. But he was particularly awful, and he just ended things out of nowhere. Normally I like to have someone else lined up, but... yeah."

Even in her alcohol-fueled state, Y/N realizes that she's rambling, providing far too many personal details to Harry, who she rarely talks to. She knows she'll be ridiculously embarrassed by the entire evening as soon as the wine drunk haze wears off, but for now, Harry's on the receiving end of her secrets.

Harry clears his throat and straightens his posture, sitting up a little taller. "Well, you said it yourself. Those sites are shitty, the dominants on there are usually just looking to experiment for the first time and they don't know what they're doing. The local BDSM community is your best bet... clubs and gatherings and such."

Y/N wrinkles her eyebrows and peers at Harry beside her. He's looking straight ahead and nibbling on his bottom lip, his hand firmly grasped around his glass. She doesn't know much about Harry besides the fact that he works at some large company with a relatively well-off position. He's gorgeous, of course, and has flings with people here and there but otherwise, her knowledge of what him is... well, almost non-existent. 

It wasn't totally impossible — the likelihood that Harry, like Y/N, was involved in similar sexual dynamics. She wouldn't classify herself as part of the BDSM community, but perhaps it was because she'd never dove headfirst into learning about it outside of what she's interested in. She felt that what she looked for in a dominant was rather... specific. 

"Do you... are you...?" Y/N doesn't quite know how to phrase the question, "are you a dom?" without sounding like a total creep, so she allows him to fill in the blanks. His throat bobs as he takes a sip of his beer, shrugging his shoulders tersely. 

"Yeah," he finally answers. "Not very consistently, I guess, but I'll take on a sub a few times year. Usually for a few months."

She nods slowly, squinting her eyes a bit as she tries to picture it. She's not sure what type of dominant Harry is — whether he's sweet and soft, or tough and enjoys pushing his subs to their limit each and every time — but regardless, the mere thought of it is enough to make her squeeze her thighs.

"What about you?" he asks, shifting his position to face her. "It sounds like you go through doms kind of... quickly."

Y/N hums, "Kind of, I guess. I think I have kind of... like, particular needs, and not everyone is interested in it."

It's the most they've ever spoken to one another, and Harry doesn't even think before he's asking her what exactly she looks for in a dominant. He's immediately embarrassed — he doesn't know what made him question her so openly, but he can't help his curiosity. 

She waves his slight exasperation off, clearly not offended by his press for details.

"Can I just ask that you don't tell anyone?" Y/N says, looking at the man sitting next to her. "It's like, a little embarrassing, and I've never told our friends about it. Not even Naomi."

"Of course," Harry quips. He's always been good at keeping those types of things under wraps — he didn't believe anyone had anything to gain by learning about someone's sexual interests.

"I... I guess I have some trauma stemming from childhood that I've worked through in recent years. It's not important to this, but I tend to look for dominants who fulfill more of a caretaker role. I like to be... taken care of. In certain ways."

Her cheeks flush as the words leave her mouth as he listens to her closely. He's not sure if he's reading between the lines, looking too far into her explanation, but he gets it. He thinks. 

"So... a daddy dom?" Harry asks softly. Y/N rolls her lips into her mouth and nods curtly. 

"That's nothing to be embarrassed about," he murmurs once he receives confirmation, "A lot of people like that type of relationship. I can understand why you'd be interested in it, especially if you have trauma."

She shrugs. "A lot of people think it's weird, too."

"Sure, but those aren't the people you should be seeking relationships out with," Harry replies easily, "What do you look for specifically? I'm sure we could find someone for you in the community."

Y/N lets a deep breath out, rolling her neck to each of her shoulders. She can't believe they're having this conversation in public, but she'd be lying if she said Harry wasn't easy to talk to. Plus, at the night went on, more people filed out of the bar considering it was a weekday. 

"It's not necessarily age play I'm after, which I think a lot of people think is what I want," she explains, "Just like... a caregiver, I guess, that's there for me both in and out of the bedroom. I, um... on bad days, fall into a... headspace, and it's very difficult to navigate that on my own. If that makes sense."

"Makes perfect sense," Harry nods. "Are you looking for punishments and such?"

"Yeah." she breathes, nibbling at her lip as she crosses her legs, attempting to mitigate the dull throbbing in her core. 

"Y/N, do you have my number?"

She swallows as she peers up at him through her eyelashes, shaking her head. He puts his hand out and she grabs her phone, placing it in his palm. He taps at the screen and she assumes he's putting his information in her contacts.

"Claire drove me here so I can't give you a ride home, but I'm gonna order you an Uber so you can head home," he murmurs lowly, handing her phone back to her. "Text me tomorrow. Can we get together after work?"

Y/N nods with slightly rounded eyes, making him smile gently. He realizes she must be more depraved than he thought if she's already slipping into her little space from an act as simple from that.

"Keep it together 'til you get home," Harry says with a quirked eyebrow, though embarrassment quickly washes over Y/N's body. He chuckles as she blushes, patting her thigh lightly. "I'll walk you out." 

She grabs her bag and follows him out of the bar, welcoming the autumnal chill as it pimples her skin. 

"Are you gonna slip on the way back?"

Y/N looks up to see Harry towering over her, a concerned expression on his face. 

"N-no. I'm fine."

He continues analyzing her for a moment or two more before he finally nods once. "Okay. If you feel yourself getting there, call me."

"I won't. I promise." 

Harry hums as a black sedan rolls up to the curb. He checks to make sure it's the correct license plate before guiding her to the car and holding the door open for her. She gets in the backseat and he nods at the driver, murmuring down at her, "seatbelt on."

She complies readily and he smiles, patting her head softly. "Message me when you get home. We'll talk tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you, Harry."

20 minutes later when he receives a text from her stating that she's made it home safely, he already knows he'll do anything to be her dominant.

. . .

Harry half expects Y/N to pretend like last night ever happened. 

He would understand it if she did. She was tipsy, revealing intimate details about her sexual preferences pertaining to BDSM. No one else from their friend group knew. It just ended up coming out for both of them — Harry doesn't parade his dominant role in the bedroom all around town, but if someone he knows asks, he's happy to admit to it and talk more about it. He's not ashamed by any means, but he can tell that Y/N is. She prefaced her explanation by stating that she has trauma — and really, who doesn't? — and hinted that dominants in the past have found her requests to be weird. 

Harry doesn't think the whole daddy dom thing is strange. He understands it, especially pertaining to a psychological, healing level. He's never engaged in that sort of dynamic before, typically sticking to scratching the itch his submissives usually had, whether it be getting tossed around a little, orgasm denial, or being tied up. He was happy to do what made them happy, but he usually kept it in the bedroom. 

The thought of taking up a caregiver role in Y/N's life made his spine tingle. 

He's always been interested in her — not even in a romantic or sexual way, he's always just found her fascinating. She's quiet and shy, beautiful, and the definition of a wallflower. Naomi brought her in one day and she just never left. It's been a year since then and Harry doesn't think she's spoken more than 15 words to the others.

And so, with all of this knowledge under his belt, he spends his day at work worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and constantly unlocking his phone. When he gets home that evening, narrowly avoiding Claire's proposal at more social interaction, he's lost all hope, even though he did tell her to text him when she was finished with work. He's properly pouting as he sits on his couch, knees to his chest, when his phone lights up on the coffee table in front of him.

From: Y/N Y/L/N

hey harry:) first of all, im so sorry about last night. i was clearly having a tough day and i definitely took advantage of u being willing to chat with me, so im sorry if i revealed too much or took you away from everyone else.. i know u don't go out often and im really sorry if i ruined it 

im also not sure if you still have interest in what we talked about last night w helping me find someone... its totally ok if you've changed ur mind or you were just drunk or whatever. again, i know i was being a lot so no worries!! sorry! just lmk :)

Harry's heart squeezes as he reads over her repeated apologies. In two texts, she said variations of "I'm sorry" four times. She thought she had ruined his night in some way when it was the complete opposite. 

His thumbs hover over the screen as he thinks of a response. He's over the moon that she still decided to text him and that she'd avoiding the path of pretending nothing happened. In all honesty, he's unsure if he could live with himself when he had all those images and thoughts of her in his head, knowing that they'd just moved on from it.

Hey Y/N. Please don't apologize for last night, I had a really nice time talking to you. I'm definitely still interested. Are you available tonight?

She's quick in her reply, which makes him smile. He can imagine the way she's probably alternating between biting her lip and picking at the skin around her fingernails, both of which he assumed were nervous habits that he picked up on last night.

ok if you say so.. and yes im free! i was planning on ordering some takeout if ur interested, i don't really have any food here that isn't a baked good lol

Harry chuckles at that. Claire mentioned once that Y/N works at the bakery close to the park he does his morning jogs through. When he passes by at early sunrise, the windows are often illuminated with a warm glow, and he wonders if it's coming from her.

That's okay, I was planning on cooking if you'd like me to bring you some. I have ingredients for a stir fry. Would that be okay?

She replies with what he can only describe as a bashful but affirmative answer (only if you're sure!! but that sounds great!) and sends a second message with her address. He's beaming as he chops up vegetables and sautes them up rice noodles and homemade peanut sauce, indulging in the simple act of cooking for Y/N. 

Last night, after he'd gotten home from the bar, he'd done some research on daddy dom relationships. He knew of them, but if he was going to offer being Y/N's, he wanted to ensure that he was knowledgable on anything she could want. He learned that there were many different facets of that type of dynamic, some of which he was comfortable with and some of which he wasn't. Like any other dominant and submissive relationship, hard and soft limits would be discussed, but this one, Harry realized, wouldn't just consist of kinks he had no interest in engaging in. 

As he spoons the finished stir fry into a plastic container to take to Y/N's, his stomach brews with butterflies. He's never expressed interest in dominating someone he already knows in real life. Those relationships existed purely in the confides of the bedroom. It's a commitment, he understands, to engage in such an agreement with her. 

So why isn't he scared?

. . .

"This is delicious, Harry," Y/N all but moans over her serving of stir fry, chopsticks in hand. He smiles before biting into a piece of broccoli coated in peanut sauce.

"I'm glad you like it. It's a go-to dish for me, especially on weekdays when I'm exhausted from work."

She hums, nodding thoughtfully as she chews. A temporary silence takes over as they eat, ended by Harry eventually clearing his throat and gently placing his bowl on the table. 

"So, about finding you a dom," he says, and her eyes perk up slightly, as if she's an over-excited puppy. "I have a proposition."

"Oh, you found someone already?"

"Sort of," Harry answers vaguely, "I think— well, no, I know. I would be interested in taking that place."

Y/N raises her eyebrows. She sets her own bowl of food on the table and purses her lips as she chews the rest of the contents in her mouth. 

"I don't think you want that." she says gently. 

"Why?" he shoots back, a near immediate response, "I spent all night and day thinking about it. I do."

Y/N sighs, "Because it's more than just spanking me when I have an attitude with you or cooking me a meal. I can be a lot, Harry, and it's the reason why I've gone through so many dominants already."

"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe you go through so many because they're the problem?" Harry asks. "You lay it all out on the table, right? You tell them exactly what you're looking for. Everything you told me last night."

She nods.

"And they still agree. You tell them you want a dominant outside of the bedroom, too, that the 'daddy' role you're looking for is a caretaker," Harry continues, "So how does that make you the issue?"

"Because what I'm looking for is... unconventional," she fights back, convinced in her stance. "Guys think the whole daddy thing is hot until... until I actually need them."

"It's not unconventional, Y/N. I did a ton of research last night. There are a million sites explaining what a DDLG relationship is and what it can consist of. The things that go into it on both sides, but especially on the dominant's. I'm not saying I know everything about being one, but I've at least cared to learn."

Y/N sighs and rolls her lips into mouth. She'll admit, she's impressed. She's not sure any guy she's ever been with has done that.

"So... what would you want, then?" Y/N asks, her voice softened. 

"Well, I definitely have limits, but it's mainly dependent on what you're interested in," Harry explains. She finds that he's far too nonchalant for his own good, and the casual nature of his tone makes her even more nervous. 

"If you did some research then I'm sure you learned about the extents it can go to," she says thoughtfully and he nods, resting his chin in his palm, "I don't have a desire for the more extreme things. Diapers and pacifiers and all that." 

"Okay." 

She's taken aback by his lack of response — part of her expected some sort of "oh, thank god" — but she's starting to wonder if Harry just simply exists in a nonjudgmental space. One that she's very much not used to. 

"I just want someone to take care of me," she eventually forced out, setting her gaze on her bare thighs, a pair of lavender sweatshorts hung around her hips. "I can be bratty both in bed and out. I like to be put in my place. I enjoy being teased and humiliated. I like punishments and being pushed to my limits, even if I give you a hard time about it. I've been described as a handful when I'm feeling... little."

Harry had read a decent amount about "little space" last night. He'd dominated some partners to the point of falling into subspace, but little space seemed to differ. With his base knowledge on submission, he was able to tell that she was slipping into hers last night, giving him the inkling that making decisions for her and taking away the guess work was something she liked. 

"I'm sure you're not, but all of those things are fine by me," Harry replies easily, "What do you like when you're feeling little?"

"It depends on what put me there. If I had a bad day at work, I like a bath and you cooking for me... I get really touchy. If it happens from a sexual scenario, it can be quite difficult to pull me out. But I get really quiet... I'll be more pliable, allow you to throw me around. I'll usually cry, but if you're doing things correctly, they won't be bad tears. Just from overwhelm."

"What sexual scenarios put you there?"

She clears her throat, her tongue thick in her mouth. Thinking about these things is enough to make her slip, but she won't disclose that. At least not right now. 

"A number of things... edging or orgasm denial, being tied up and gagged. Anal since it requires trust and prepping. Any type of punishment, but especially spanking."

Harry's nodding his head as she speaks, apparent that he's processing everything she's telling him. He's not surprised by anything, per se, considering he's open to different experiences and nothing seems undoable. It's as if he's making a mental list, adding a separate section to his brain with Y/N's name plastered over it, filing away the information.

"What about when you're not feeling little?" Harry proceeds with little befuddlement, "What does the ideal dominant look like for you then?"

"Um... still just loving and caring. I likely won't be as bratty. More... in control of myself, I suppose," Y/N murmurs in reflection. "I would still like to have scenes with you when I'm not in that headspace, if that's alright. I'm not sure if it would be crossing a boundary."

"Of course." he answers readily without a blink of doubt, "When I embark on a dominant and submissive relationship, I don't like to half-ass it. I don't think there's a point in only asking for me when you need me. You'll never find comfort in me when you're feeling small."

Her heart warms at that, flutters in her tummy making it difficult to hide the smile curling at her lips. She assumes that she should've guessed Harry would be good at this type of thing; she's witnessed how deeply he cares for people. Even when they barely knew each other, he always greeted Y/N like they'd known one another for years, asking about her job at the bakery (she doesn't even remember if she told him he worked at one) and what sweets they were creating nowadays. 

She thinks Harry just has a way of making people feel special. 

It's what makes her core tingle, squeezing her thighs together for a semblance of relief as she rolls her lips into her mouth. She can feel herself starting to dampen in her underwear and she glances down at Harry's lower half, peeking through her eyelashes to see if he has a growing bulge. 

"Do you think we can do a scene tonight, maybe?" Y/N asks softly, glancing back up at his eyes. 

Harry chuckles. "I take it you think I'd be a good fit for you then."

"Mhm." 

"You're cute," he smirks and pinches her thigh lightly, "No scenes tonight though. I can come over tomorrow, but I want to properly feed you and make sure you're hydrated before we do anything."

Y/N nods as she nibbles on her bottom lip. If she's being honest, she wants nothing more than to crawl into Harry's lap, parting her thighs and grinding into him while he babbles dirty words into her ear. She's always found him attractive, but knowing that he's willing to cater to her own sexual desires lights a fire deep in her stomach. 

"I'm gonna head home, but I'm looking forward to getting started with you," Harry says with a small smile, "Oh, one more thing — no touching yourself tonight."

Her eyes widen as he stands from the couch, ready to grovel; they haven't even begun doing anything yet and he's already telling her what to do—

"Y/N," Harry growls, reaching up to grab her face. He squishes her cheeks together and her pupils broaden, surprised by his sudden change in demeanor. "Nod if you understand."

She nods.

"Good girl. I'll text you when I'm coming over tomorrow. I'll bring you dinner again."

Again, she nods.

"Say 'thank you', Y/N."

"Thank you, daddy."

Harry's lips curl into a smirk, releasing his grasp. "Oh, we're gonna have fun together."

. . .

The next day, Y/N can't stop squirming. 

It's to the point where her co-workers notice that she's jumpier than normal, clumsy in her icing and piping when she's normally spot-on and nearly perfect in her efforts. She hears from Harry a few times throughout the day — he texts her in the morning and during his lunch break, checking in to see how she's doing, and it makes her entire body swarm with butterflies. He asks if she's eating a proper lunch (she's not), scolds her for it (which she secretly enjoys), and then tells her he'll make her something for her to take to work tomorrow.

Thankfully, she doesn't have a closing shift today, so she's done at a little past 6 pm. It's to her surprise, though, when she's peeling off her flour-coated apron, she spots Harry standing outside the bakery, a cozy cardigan and a graphic t-shirt covering his body. 

Y/N has to do a double take. He didn't say anything about meeting her at work this evening, but he has to be here for her, doesn't he? 

After sliding her jacket on and grabbing her tote bag, she exits the bakery, closing the glass door behind her gingerly. Harry turns, his eyes lighting up when he sees her.

"Hey," he greets with a grin, "Have a good day at work?"

"Um, yeah, it was alright. Sorry, did we say you would pick me up? I must've forgotten—"

"Oh, no," Harry shakes his head as he jerks his head in the direction of his car, reaching out to slide her bag off of her shoulder. He takes it into his hand, his fingers wrapping around the canvas strap as she shuffles to keep up. "I finished making dinner a little early, figured I'd meet you here. Is that alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that's really nice of you, thank you."

Harry hums as they approach his car. He unlocks the doors and they both get in, but he leans over before she has a chance to buckle herself up, clicking her seatbelt in. It's a small act that makes the butterflies return, but she doesn't comment on it as he starts the engine and begins the short drive back to hers. 

"I made us some veggie pasta for dinner tonight. Does that sound good?" 

"Delicious," Y/N replies honestly as she watches blurs of warm-toned leaves go by. "Thank you again."

A soft smile appears on his lips as he pulls onto her road. "Of course. How are you feeling?" 

"I'm alright. A little tired. Nervous, to be honest."

Harry chuckles and briefly glances over at her, "Yeah? Nothing to be nervous about. We'll take it slow."

She shuffles in her seat and wedges her hands between her thighs. "Just don't want you to judge me, is all."

"I won't, but we did manage to forget to have the conversation on hard sexual limits. Do you mind listing yours?"

She nods. She's done this dance enough times to know the importance of discussing this subject matter, though she doubts there's much Harry could do that wouldn't be a turn-on for her.

"Um, any bathroom things, fisting, foot stuff... I'm fine with anal as long as we agree upon doing it beforehand. And if you're going to inflict physical pain on me, that's fine, but I'd prefer it if we built up to it — so, like, starting with spanking then the belt or a paddle." 

"Sure, that makes perfect sense. I like to have conversations with my subs after we do a scene, so we can see how you feel about what we did," he pulls into a parking spot outside of her home, yanking the key from the ignition, "And, just so you know — no anal tonight and no spanking unless you deserve it."

He taps her cheek gently with his spare hand and she flushes as she unbuckles her seatbelt and gets out of the car. She follows him up to her front door and fishes her keys from the pocket of her jacket, unlocking it and stepping inside.

"Are y'alright with the traffic light system?" Harry questions as he sets her bag down on the slim table placed in the entryway.

"Yeah. My safe word is yarn, just FYI."

He wrinkles his eyebrows and pulls a few to-go containers out from his own bag. He opens his mouth to question her but she puts her hand up to stop him. 

"I like to crochet. Don't make fun of me for it."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Harry murmurs, traipsing in the direction of her kitchen, "Go change out of your work clothes and put something pretty on for me, angel girl."

She's happy to comply, immediately feeling giddy at Harry telling her what to do from the get-go. When she gets upstairs and to her bedroom, she meanders over to the drawer she has for evenings like this. It's filled with lacy bodysuits and ruffly underwear, knee high socks, and pastel lingerie. Eager to rid her body of the jeans and sweater she wore all day, she opts for a sheer pink bralette and matching shorts that barely cover her bum. It's a sweet set that she personally likes, but she can't help the slight worry that Harry won't enjoy it as much as she does.

She's already meandering into her little headspace as she heads back downstairs. Harry's already plated up their dinner, complete with small servings of a side salad. He looks up as soon as he hears her soft padding across the length of the living room, his jaw falling slack at her appearance.

"Look at you," he coos, standing from the couch and closing the distance between them, "You look beautiful."

Y/N licks her lips, keeping her gaze low. She feels herself slipping, but for once, she's not scared of letting it happen. 

"What's wrong, little one?" Harry asks gently, pressing his pointer finger and thumb to her chin, raising her head, "Are you feeling small already?"

She nods, her eyes round.

"Mm, that was quick. Just from daddy taking care of you and putting on these pretty little clothes, huh?"

Again, she nods.

"Alright. Let's get some food in your belly and then daddy can play with you a bit?" 

This time, she shakes her head.

"No? No scene tonight?" Harry guesses through furrowed brows. 

"Wanna play now, please."

"Ahhhh," he nods, understanding now that she's looking to skip out on dinner. "Gotta eat first, baby. Then we'll play."

Y/N pouts and he chuckles, wrapping his fingers around her wrist and tugging her towards the couch. 

"C'mon. You can sit in my lap, hm?" 

Still in the trousers he wore to work today, Harry settles back against the couch. He pulls her body into his, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her steady.

"Is this good?" he asks softly, catching the shell of her ear. 

"Yes." she peeps, nibbling on her lip. 

"Alright baby, grab your food for me. Gotta eat at least half before we do anything." 

Wringing her hands in her lap, Y/N doesn't move. Harry runs his fingertips along the length of her arm, nosing at her shoulder. 

"Would you... daddy, I..."

Her voice trails off and his heart squeezes, eager to coax whatever she's trying to say out of her. 

"Ask, honey. Use your words." he encourages tenderly. 

She forces the words out, even if they feel humiliating despite her clouded head. "Can you feed me, please?" 

Harry hums. He won't say it in the moment because he can tell the request was difficult to muster out, but his entire body feels infinitely softer. He leans forward to grab her serving, scooping some pasta on the fork. 

"Y'gonna be good and eat for me now?" 

She nods, "I will. Thank you, daddy."

He murmurs out a you're welcome, continuing the quiet pattern of feeding her, watching her chew and swallow, and going back for more. He doesn't let her get off without eating a few bites of salad, chuckling gently at her quiet protests.

"Still feeling good?" Harry asks, setting her empty bowl back on the coffee table. 

"Mhm. Playtime now?" 

He smiles and nods, carefully shimmying her body off his lap. "Why don't you go upstairs and wait for me? Daddy needs to eat too."

Y/N shakes her head and sinks to the carpet, pressing her chin to his knee. "Wanna be close, please."

"Yeah?" Harry chuckles, grabbing his own bowl of pasta, "Okay, baby, you can sit there but no touching. I know you're nearly gagging for my cock."

He watches as she shivers, nibbling on her bottom lip and shifting her position slightly so her cheek is smushed against his thigh. He laughs quietly and threads his fingers through her hair, quickly eating his own portion. He can't deny that he's just as excited to get started — he, too, has been thinking about this all day, deciding what positions he'd fold her body into, if he'd edge her or overstimulate her with orgasm upon orgasm. He didn't want to fully push her limits so quickly — he wanted to create a foundation of trust between each other, but he couldn't help the inevitable daydreams that clouded his day. 

He finishes his food quickly, tapping her head playfully to alert her that he's done. She lifts her head and he takes in her moony gaze, his heart thumping quickly in his chest at how sweet she looks. 

"Upstairs, bunny. Hands and knees, bum in the air, okay?" He plucks at her bottom lip as he grants her guidance, her eyes fluttering shut, relieved to finally be getting instructions. She scurries up to her bedroom, listening to Harry putter around as he places their dirty dishes in the sink. As he asks, she lets her knees meld into the foamy texture of the mattress. With her cheek pressed against the pillow, she folds her legs and maneuvers her lower half into his requested position.

It feels like an eternity before Y/N hears Harry enter the room, shutting the door behind him. He doesn't move to remove any of his clothes, instead kneeling onto the bed behind her. 

"You've been doing so good for daddy, haven't you, baby?" 

She knows it's a rhetorical question but she nods into the plushy pillow, wiggling her butt. He chuckles and allows his palms to roam the expanse of her skin, from the bottoms of her thighs up to the swell of her ass. She keens at the feel of his touch, already obsessed with the way his large hands fit over her body.

"We won't be doing too much tonight, but I'll be asking for your color consistently. I want you to use your safe word at any point you deem necessary. Is that clear?"

Y/N nods her head and hums, though her answer is slightly muffled by the fluff of the pillow. 

He continues rubbing slow circles into the globes of her ass, intent on getting her to feel as relaxed as possible. He can tell she's excited — he is, too — but above anything, he wants her to be calm. 

"I brought some toys and things for us to play with," Harry continues, her ears perking up, "Can you tell me your color for each of them? It's perfectly okay if it changes at some point. I'd just like an idea of what you want."

Y/N has never had someone care this much — every time a dominant brought a toy to a session, he'd thrown it in there haphazardly. A vibrator turned up way too high, terribly knitted rope and, the worst by far, a butt plug that wasn't lubed whatsoever. 

So she's keening over the care Harry puts into his role, her heart beating rapidly in her chest as he shuffles off the bed for a moment and slings the tote bag onto the comforter. She still can't see a thing that he's doing, but as she floats into a comfortable cloudy mindset, she becomes more and more content with letting him make the rules. 

"Okay, baby. Know you want daddy to make the decisions but I need you to be good for me and tell me what you're comfortable with," Harry murmurs, his fingertips dancing along the soft material of her waistband. He doesn't dip below or tug them down; it more so feels like a reminder of what can come if she's good. "Tying your wrists with silk ties. Color?"

Her pussy pulsates at the immediate vision of her arms tied high above her head, unable to touch herself or him. "Mm. Green." 

"And what about your legs? Are you okay with rope, or would you prefer silk down there, too?"

"Either one, daddy. Green for both." 

Harry hums, dipping down to slowly press light kisses down the length of her spine. She shivers at the sensation of his soft lips making contact with her skin for the first time. "A vibrator for your cute little pussy?"

"Green," she whimpers as his hands find purchase on her hips.

"Can daddy use his mouth on you?" he asks, the low vibrations of his voice making her core leak with arousal. "On your pussy?" 

"Yes, yes," Y/N nearly pleads, bucking her hips up against his grasp. He tuts softly, and she can imagine the way his tongue flicks up against his two front bunny teeth, a look of disappointment painted over his face. 

"Be patient, bunny. Don't need you squirming around just 'cos you wanna be touched." 

She wants to groan out when he removes his hands from her skin but resists the urge, especially because he just told her to be patient (something Y/N has never been good at). She feels like it's a punishment in and of itself — he's barely done anything, but she can still feel the phantom kisses he placed down her back, and the skin stretching over her hips somehow feels lonely without his large palms pawing at it. 

"On your back." Harry suddenly instructs. She's quick to obey, rolling over onto the plush duvet. He's fast in his movements and already kneeling above her, wrapping her wrists together and fastening a bow with pink silk. "Have you used these before? Do you know how to get out of them if you need to?"

Y/N nods. She knows that she can simply pull her wrists apart to quickly dissolve the knot, instantly freeing herself. 

"Good girl. Daddy's gonna use rope for your legs, okay? Use your safe word or red if you need."

She has to admit, she's immediately impressed with Harry's apparent knowledge of bondage. She's been tied up many times before, but if she had to guess how many times someone's properly tied her hands, breasts, or legs with rope, it would likely only be once or twice. 

A wet gasp leaves her mouth when she realizes Harry isn't just tying her ankles down to the bed post. Instead, he's pressing her calves into the backs of her thighs, the slight burn of the rope pressing into her flesh in the most delicious way. Although she's able to close her legs, the knots still remove most of her mobility, especially with her arms tucked above her head.

After finishing with her legs, Harry stands from the bed, still in his tee-shirt and trousers. He admires his work from above with a devilish smirk on his face, making Y/N's skin warm.

"Aren't you just a wet dream?" he mocks lightly, trailing his fingertips up and along her knee, "All tied up and absolutely useless, hm? Can't even get out of bed, can you?"

Y/N shakes her head, her bottom lip beginning to wobble at his teasing. Everything about the scene is already so intense, the build-up so delicious and consuming and— fuck, he hasn't even touched her yet.

"You just need your daddy to do everything for you, don't you?" Harry continues, kneeling into the mattress. His hands find the insides of her thighs and he pushes them apart, but his eyes don't even fall to her core, instead keeping them square on her wide-eyed gaze. "Helpless little baby, aren't you? Say it. Say your daddy's helpless baby."

"I'm— I'm daddy's helpless baby." she stammers out, her tongue heavy in her mouth. 

"Are you gonna cry already, bunny?" he asks, his lips curling up into a wicked smirk, "Haven't even fuckin' done a thing and you're crying over being tied up. This is what you wanted, isn't it? Wanted daddy to make all your choices? Get all cock dumb and drunk on my cum?"

She nods futilely. She doesn't even realize the wetness pooling in the corners of her eyes, but she feels tears leaking steadily as soon as he mentions it. 

"P-please daddy. Wanna be touched."

"Ah, so you do have some thoughts going on up there."

It seems like maybe that's all it takes for Harry to finally cease his mocking, digging into the tote bag at the side of the bed to produce a silicone vibrator. It's light blue and long, with a bulbous head at the tip that she assumes is for stimulating the spongey spot deep inside of her.

He finds a spot between her thighs, kneeling back on his ankles. His hands move up her inner thighs and to the creases of where her legs meet her core, the sheer fabric of her pale pink shorts immediately giving way to the wetness seeping from her hole. Harry nearly groans out at that, the sight going straight to his rock hard cock being strained by layers of clothing. 

With a feather light touch, he thumbs over her clit through the material. She immediately jolts and he chuckles, moving his finger to gently stroke over her mound. 

"Desperate little thing. Begging for daddy's touch."

"Yes," Y/N mewls at the top of the bed, wiggling against the rough rope, "I need it daddy, please, touch me, I've been so good—"

"Have you?" he asks, retrieving his hand, "All you've done is do as I've asked. If anything, I'm the one that should get rewarded, don't you think? Picked you up from work, fed you, tied you up... sounds like you're just being greedy to me."

"I'm not— t-that is being good, daddy, I didn't touch myself like you said a-and I've earned it, please."

She's fully crying now, tears leaking from her eyes in steadfast streams that it actually makes Harry feel bad. She hasn't even stopped her begging by the time he's pulling her shorts down to reveal her weeping pussy, a soft tsk leaving his mouth.

"Stop pleading, bunny, I'll give you want you're so desperate for," Harry says, grabbing the vibrator. He'd initially planned to work her with his fingers before pressing the toy against her clit and pushing it inside, but he hasn't even spread her open and he can already see the creamy arousal coating her lips. He thinks that if he teases her for much longer, she may just disintegrate into the bed. 

So instead, because he's him and he's not a nice dom, he cranks it onto the medium setting and nudges it up against her clit. She instantly gasps out and jerks her hips up at the vibrations, a near-yell leaving her throat. He's aware that every person is different and it'll take him some time to learn her body, but with the way that her legs are already shaking as he uses more pressure to press the toy against the bundle of nerves, he thinks he he's getting somewhere.

"Are you gonna cum already?" Harry asks, his eyebrows knitted together as his eyes rake over her body. Her own eyes are scrunched up, her lips parted as small whimpers escape her throat, beads of sweat beginning to tumble down the slopes and curves of her skin — it's a sight, and he wishes to commit it to memory.

"Y-yes," she admits, nodding quickly, "Can I? Please?"

In response, he transfers the vibrator to his left hand and slowly pushes a finger into her pulsating hole. 

"Go ahead."

He strokes once or twice against her g-spot with his finger before she's crumbling, her chest concave with haphazard breaths and her back arched. Moans readily fall from her lips, her pussy squeezing his finger so tight it nearly makes him cum on the spot.

As Y/N comes down from her peak, she recalls Harry saying that they weren't doing anything too crazy today, so she wonders if that's it. If so, she supposes that's fine, but she thinks she'll over him a blowie, offering to let him fuck her face while she's still tied up with silk and rope.

Instead, he cranks the vibrator up another setting and pushes a second finger inside, eliciting a broken groan from her chest.

"Again." Harry instructs, curling his fingers deep inside of her.

"O-oh," Y/N whimpers with shaking thighs and a dizzy head, "Daddy, I—"

"Again, bunny." he repeats, quickening the pace of his fingers. "I want another one. Now."

She quickly realizes that she doesn't know if she'll ever be able to reject Harry, because it only takes a few more pumps of his digits until she's squeezing him again. She's never had two orgasms so close together and she finds that this one is more intense, her muscles not even fully relaxed as they contract around him once again.

Her eyes are still closed when he removes his fingers and she thinks she hears a faint sucking noise, though she can't be sure. He lowers the vibrator setting but keeps it flush against her clit, despite the way her pussy is all but begging for a break.

"Color." Harry demands, his hand finding the backside of her knee. 

"G-green," she hiccups through tear-stained cheeks, "Can keep going, daddy. Please."

He nods once, lowering so his stomach is pressed against the mattress now. He finally clicks the toy off and pushes it to the side, pausing his assault on her core before spreading her lips open with his fingers. 

"Jesus, you're fuckin' pretty," he mutters, watching as her hole pulsates from two back-to-back orgasms. He spits, the saliva landing on her spread slit, making her gasp. "Who owns this pussy, bunny?"

Y/N's chest is heaving, but she still manages his honorific through wet, splotchy cheeks.

"Say it again." he commands before leaning forward to lick a fat stripe from her hole to her clit. 

"It's yours, daddy." she whispers, her hands forming tight fists above her form.

"Good girl. That's what I want you to say when you cum next, okay?" 

She doesn't have a chance to question yet another orgasms as his tongue makes contact with her pussy, moaning deeply. He's already obsessed with her taste and she's sure she's never had someone go down on her with this much vigor. She's gulping for air when his tongue darts in and out of her hole before licking up to her clit, lips wrapped around the nub as he sucks harshly, whines sounding from her mouth at the sensitivity. 

Y/N has never understood the phrase "making out with her pussy" until this exact moment.

She doesn't even know if he's coming up for air much, but he's quick to figure out the pattern that makes her thighs shake. Messy sounds come from below as he slurps at the arousal leaking from her, using the width of his tongue to lick upwards to her clit over and over again. 

"Daddy!" Y/N squeals, jerking her hips involuntarily, only to be pressing her core even closer to his mouth, "Please, I— I think—"

"Cum." he mutters into her, suckling at her clit with such fervor that Y/N genuinely thinks she may pass out. 

She doesn't, though, but the intensity of her orgasm claws up her body rapidly, loud cries bubbling up her throat as she repeats clamors of, "it's yours daddy, your pussy, it's yours."

She feels him press chaste kisses against her mound as he gently begins to untie the ropes, slowly easing her legs out of their angled positions. Once they're free, he helps her stretch them outward, continuing his trail of kisses up her body until he's straddling her waist between his thighs.

"Color," Harry murmurs, reaching up to release his wrists from the silk. Her eyes are set on the bulge in his pants and he gently taps her cheek, "Bunny, tell me your color."

"Green, daddy. That looks like it hurts."

She uses her newly freed hands to point at his crotch and he chuckles, shaking his head. 

"I'm fine, lovebug. Are you sure you're still green? Looking quite floaty."

"I am," Y/N lulls her head to the side, leaning it against her shoulder as she circles her wrists, "Wanna keep going though. 'm okay."

"Do you remember your safe word?" he questions, grabbing one of her wrists and pressing soft kisses into the skin. 

"Mhm."

"What is it?"

"Yarn. 'cos I like to crochet."

Harry grins, relieved that she isn't too far off the deep end. He finds her to be especially adorable when she's in her little space, the moony gaze in her eyes removing any traces of stress from her day-to-day life.

"That's right, baby," he replies, pulling off his tee-shirt. "Daddy's gonna fuck you now. Is that alright?"

"Yes, please. But I don't think I wanna cum again."

He hums and nods, unbuckling his pants and kicking them off his legs, "That's perfectly fine, bunny. You got daddy so hard that I don't think it'll take much for me to cum."

Y/N giggles at that and makes grabby hands at him, making him chuckle. "Off, please," she says, pointing to the briefs straining his cock. 

"You're such a polite little girl, did you know that?" Harry asks as he pushes his underwear down, settling in between her legs.

"Daddy's polite girl." 

If his cock wasn't painfully hard right now, he might've laughed at her repeating his words. Unfortunately, an hour of overstimulating Y/N and watching her writhe beneath his grasp, all tied up with no choice but to just take it — he's shivering at the images of it, and he knows he needs to cum within the next five minutes or his dick will surely fall off. 

"Gonna push in, okay?" Harry asks softly, rubbing circles into her hip, "Remember, tell me if you need to stop. Daddy will always listen to you."

Y/N nods her head, blinking away the leftover moisture in her eyes from her bout of cries earlier. She knows that if she didn't feel so comfortable with him, there's no way she would be this far in her little space right now, where she just wants him to take and take until he's satisfied. It's maybe happened three or four times in the past with a dom she had that was actually pretty good, but she knows now doesn't even begin to measure up with Harry. 

When his cock pops through her tight walls, it's a bit of a stretch, but she's wet enough with arousal from three orgasms that it barely burns. Instead, she finds herself enjoying the way her core adapts to his shape — not to mention, he looks gorgeous above her with his eyes squeezed closed and his jaw dropped in a quiet groan. 

When she doesn't safe word, Harry starts to move. He takes it slow, knowing that if he immediately starts to pump the full of his length inside of her, it may cause her more pain than pleasure, regardless of how small she's feeling. Her plushy lips part as moans begin to fall from them, hooking her ankles behind his form to bring him closer. 

"You're so big, daddy," Y/N breathes out, a strangled whimper coming from Harry. "I love it, I love having you inside me."

"Yeah? My little girl wants her daddy's cock in her all the time?" He pushes through grit teeth, his jaw flexing as he begins to quicken his strokes, "Tell me, bunny. Tell me how much you want daddy."

"Oh—," she mewls as he begins to brush up against her g-spot, "I want it always daddy, I-I need it— oh, god— please daddy, please—"

"Sweet little girl sounds so pretty when she begs," He says as he takes one of his palms and presses it against her lower stomach, "This pretty pussy is mine now. You hear me? It's daddy's pussy."

"Yes, yes— fuck, it's yours daddy!"

Harry growls — actually growls — and shifts his hand down to smack against her clit, a throaty moan falling from Y/N's mouth. 

"Dumb little babies don't curse," he snaps, slapping her clit once more, "Or do you wanna be punished? Not get any of daddy's cum?"

She shakes her head quickly, her eyes nearly rolling back at the sting of pain radiating through her core. "I want it, please!"

"Yeah? Beg for it, bunny."

She does — she pleads and begs and all but grovels on her hands and knees until Harry pulls out and pumps his cock over her, ropes of warm cum painting the skin of her stomach all the way up to her chest. There's so much (like an impressive amount, Y/N thinks), and she wants to scoop it up and taste it, but Harry grabs her wrist and gives her a look before she can. 

"If you do that, you will have to call out of work tomorrow."

She giggles and nibbles on her bottom lip, the little headspace she's swimming in telling her to disobey him. He sighs and shakes his head, grabbing the tee-shirt he was wearing earlier and swiping it over her body, ridding her of his cum. 

"You're a naughty little thing," he mumbles, tossing the tee-shirt to the floor — he makes a mental note to throw her bedding and everything in the wash once she's out of her little space. "C'mon baby, up. Gonna take a bath now." 

"With you, right?" Y/N mumbles with heavy eyes. He nods as he leans down to scoop her up in his arms, guiding them to the bathroom. He sits her on the toilet and she frowns, making him roll his eyes. 

"You don't want a UTI. This isn't a sex thing, just pee while I run you a bath."

She does but only because he tells her to, and she knows she'll feel embarrassed about this tomorrow, but she's okay with it right now. He busies himself with turning the water and making sure it's warm before plugging the drain. 

"I brought some bubble bath and epsom salts with me but it's in my bag. Can I leave you while I go get those?" 

Again, Y/N nods wordlessly and he leans down to press a kiss to her hair. She flushed and wipes while he's gone, and he returns while she's washing her hands. 

Harry knows it feels oddly domestic of them to be naked and prepping to take a bath together after an intense scene, especially since this is the first time they've done this. In the back of his mind, he wonders if they should've talked through the implications of them beginning this type of relationship — a ruined friendship being one of them — and he knows it was selfish of him to forgo that conversation altogether. 

He ignores his worries and instead helps her into the bubble bath once it's ready, tucking his body in behind hers as soon as she's situated. It's silent between them for the first time in hours as he wraps his arms around her shoulders, lightly massaging her shoulders. 

"How are you feeling?" He finally asks after a few moments of quiet. 

"Tired," she mumbles, laying back against his broad chest. He can't tell if she's still floaty by her one-word response so he continues rubbing her back, allowing her to sink into the warmth of the bath.

They don’t speak again after that, not until the water goes cold and Y/N almost falls asleep in the comfort of his arms. In the meantime, he makes sure to gently swirl a clean washcloth over her skin, using his favorite lavender scented body wash, and wash her knotty hair. All the while he whispers how special she is, how she’ll never be too much, but especially not to him. He decides it’s okay if she doesn’t hear him because she’s too out of it, but hopes that his words at least seep into her subconscious so she believes the same. 

[yesimwriting]

Pulling Away

A/n did i write smut for once? yeah. also timeline wise is this perfectly accurate? it’s iffy,, but this fic isn’t about the plot too much so it’s okay

Summary: You’re not the only one that’s feeling a little territorial thanks to the influx of people you’re around in Jackson. 

warnings: 18+, implied age gap, no condom, a tiny bit manipulative if you squint, brief mention of losing virginity.

----

He’s not a force of nature, no matter how hard he might pretend to be for the sake of those around him. Joel can’t actually change anything. So the shift in temperature you feel as Joel stills has to be a byproduct of what’s in your head. 

The kind of burning cold that better fits a fever runs through you and you hate yourself for it. This isn’t the first time you’ve been delusional when it comes to him. 

You’re working off of a quarter of his face against low lighting. It doesn’t make sense for you to be able to feel so much from the little of him that you can see. It’s not anger. Or at least, not just that. There’s definitely a subdued rage radiating from him, but it’s undercut by something that punches you straight in the gut. 

Maybe you’re being a little unfair, but you have a right to it at this point. You can’t follow him around blindly like some kind of puppy forever. Especially now that you’re both settled enough to be able to think of things outside of pure survival.

“Ellie’s asleep.” A flat observation that you can’t explain. Maybe it’s the need to break the silence, or maybe it’s a genuine attempt at making things feel normal. You two should still be able to talk. You never wanted that to end. “Swore she wasn’t tired, but passed out as soon as her head touched the mattress.” 

Joel lets out a small sound from the back of his throat. It’s a spike in the atmosphere. “Think I’m gonna go to bed, too.” You don’t understand your awkwardness or the urge to create distance. It’s not like Joel would hurt you, but then again, the buzz of adrenaline doesn’t seem to be coming from a place of fear. It’s an uneasy burning that worsens when you raise your eyes enough to meet his. “Night.” 

The one word is a little better and somehow so much worse. Not aggressive or trying to make things better. It’s just there. Civil. 

When he says nothing, you take it as your sign to call it a night. Tomorrow could be better. Sure, your rocky dynamic might be going through growing pains while you set boundaries that should have been established long ago, but you’ll likely survive this. You’re all staying together in the same house in Jackson for the time being and you both care too much about Ellie to separate over something small. 

Even if Joel won’t directly admit to it, the part of your relationship that feels like co-parenting is sacred. That’s part of the reason why the feelings you’ve been fighting with yourself to dismantle are so complicated. He cares about Ellie more than he wants to admit and the last thing you need right now is to tear away the little stability she’s finally been given. Not over a few awkward conversations and stiff moments. 

The weird irony that vaguely reflects the issues of the world before isn’t lost on you. If someone were to squint at the situation, you’d seem like a wife trapped in a marriage for the sake of her children. Maybe if it was happening to someone else you’d have enough energy to find it funny. 

You turn carefully, like a too loud squeak of your shoes could be what snaps the thinning thread tying you two to a hint of casualness. You don’t need to pass him to get to where you’re sleeping. The three of you had been set up in a space that allowed for each person to have their own room. It’s like that in theory, but in practice it’s more like Ellie’s room, Joel’s room, and the spare. 

A comfortable enough bedroom that you’ve maybe spent the entire night alone in twice in the weeks you’ve been here. You can’t even pretend that you keep the few things you own in there either. Joel’s an even lighter traveler than you, so slowly your items made their way into the drawers in his room. Now, your room is basically just where you go to change into and out of sleepwear.

You’ll get used to it, used to the draft that originally led to you giving up on rocky sleep the first night you ended up sleeping next to Joel. Your dreams kept you up even more than the cold, but when Joel’s drowsy voice called out to you in the dark, asking why you were awake, you blamed the night’s chill. That’s how it first happened. 

It was a mistake you should have never let turn into habit. You’re correcting it now. Setting boundaries to prevent heartbreak. It’s only a matter of time considering the way the women here look at him.

“Since when do you sleep in there?”

His voice is so gruff it instinctually freezes you. Any sarcastic comment at the back of your throat vanishes immediately. The both of you are fully aware of how you end up each night, but it’s a boundary in itself not to mention it. You’re not sure if it’s more him or you, but what happens at night and early in the morning is never mentioned.

It’s a dip into another reality. A space where Joel’s a little lighter, almost more open. Sometimes he’ll drag your arm with him when he moves onto his side, a silent way of asking you to stay close. On the best nights, he’ll joke about it, letting your limbs meld together under a blanket and swear he’s just trying to keep you warm out of the kindness of his heart. 

His humor is the worst. The kind that some might justify as a result of years of it being at a stalemate for years considering the tragic state of the world, but you know better. They’re the kind of jokes that take a second to settle because of his general exterior, but are meant to be so dumb they force out a smile. In another life, the little comments are dad jokes.

The peace bleeds into the mornings now, he’ll keep the closeness and remind you that you don’t have to get up immediately by mumbling something about Ellie still being asleep. Like she’s the only thing significant enough to get you two to return to reality. 

You’re convinced that these moments exist because neither of you mention them. He’s crossing a line you didn’t realize meant so much to you and he’s being dramatic it, too. It’s not the rarest thing for you to ‘attempt’ to sleep in your own bed. Sure, you’re more likely to lay in that room for a few hours on nights where Ellie stays up a little later, but this isn’t the strangest thing you’ve done. 

He’s ripping any chance of returning to that separate world away from you. It stings more than it should. “Thought I’d give it a try,” you voice is too low, too defensive, “It’s not a big deal.” 

The defense sounds so weak in your own ears, you don’t even want to imagine what he took from it. “Bullshit.”

His voice comes out in such a low huff you feel it more than hear it. If the sound had felt any less dangerous, you would have pretended to mistake it for another wordless grunt. Your lips part slowly as your mind struggles to create any kind of logical response. 

Pretending is clearly getting you nowhere. The only reason you ever pretended it would was pure delusion. Joel has always been able to see through you, through any shift in mood. Even when your lies are better, his ability to sense them is uncanny. 

He turns with no warning. Joel crosses the space between you before you can even fully register his steps. Your body tenses as heat rushes to your face in result of an oddly charged parody of fight or flight. You almost step back, one heel shifting back, but then you meet his gaze and the determined glint behind his eye is enough to melt you into place. 

There’s something else there, too. A focus that pins you into place even further. Holds you there better than the barrel of a pistol could. 

The absurdity of the warmth rooted in your chest should be enough to make the feeling go away. It doesn’t, so you force your lips to part again. You need to say something. Anything. “Joel?” Not that. Not just his name in a voice that feels violently small. 

“You’re pullin’ away.” 

The accusation in his voice leaves no room for argument. You try anyways, “No.” The rest of your thoughts can’t come out while you’re looking at him at the same time. There’s shame in dropping your gaze to focus on your shoes and the little space between you. “It’s not like that.” 

Joel lets out a low sound. The creak of the floor as he steps forward again snaps you out of your trance. You step back in a desperate attempt to keep the space between the two of you equal. Your back hits the wall before you can come close to achieving your goal. It’s a knee jerk reaction that leaves your face feeling even warmer than before. A part of you expects Joel to laugh at the sound or at least comment on it. He doesn’t. He continues forward until his mouth is so close to your ear the warmth of his breath lingers when he exhales. 

He takes a second there, relishing in your stillness. “Don’t lie to me.” Joel pulls away just enough to look you in the eye. “You don’t want to talk to me, you’re talkin’ about leavin’.” The southern drawl of his voice is increasing with his frustration. It’s distracting in a way that feels too convenient. Like he’s doing this on purpose. 

You swallow once. “You found your brother. I have a sister out there, I’d--I think now that things are more settled with Ellie it wouldn’t be the worst thing for me to look for her.” 

“And you don’t want us goin’ with you, but you’re more than willing to let the guy that’s always lookin’ at you--” 

“Oh my god, is that what this is about?” You are insane. Of course his issue is who mentioned it. John knows travel, leaves Jackson and comes back in one piece when he needs to. He wouldn’t be the worst person to have with you if you did want to start a rudimentary search for your sister. “I didn’t make any plans with John, it just came up.” 

“You don’t want us goin’ with you.” 

Your throat feels dry. The thought of it makes you feel cold. You haven’t seen your sister in a few years and so much has changed. You’re no longer in the QZ and your sister has no way of knowing that. She can’t reach out if there’s trouble or good news and she has no reason to assume that you’re safe. You know where she lives, and if she’s not there, you know a few of her usual spots. She doesn’t typically stray too far from her bubble. It wouldn’t be a long trip, just long enough. 

Long enough to give you some space. Long enough to remember what it’s like to not be around Joel all the time. Long enough to feel less about him. 

And you’d come back. You wouldn’t just walk out of his life and Ellie’s forever. The little bit of space you’re trying to get would make it easier for you to stick around in the long run because it’s the only way you can think to get rid of the feelings that are trying to ruin everything. 

“We haven’t been here that long and Ellie’s finally starting to feel settled. I don’t want to drag her out of that yet and make her feel like her entire life is just going to be her being dragged around the country.” 

Your words are a jumble, rushed together in a way that makes the honesty of them less effective. It’s a good point. Ellie just called her room hers the other day and even asked about moving the bed against a different wall.

Joel lets out a low breath, eyes hardening. “You’re right. She’s settlin’ and she needs you.” He knows he’s hit his mark when you don’t respond. “How do you think she’s gonna take the news that you’re leaving?” 

“Leaving to visit my sister.” You struggle to swallow. “Temporarily. It’ll take less than two weeks.” 

His lips pull into a frown as his eyebrows together. Moody and brooding. The look you’ve openly referred to as his old man scowl. “With John.” 

Ugh. This again. Why does it matter? Yes, John will be there, but it’s not like it’s just you and John. Your sister isn’t that far and she has access to supplies that aren’t common, she has an understanding with people that have easy access to medical supplies. 

But even if it was just you and John, it doesn’t matter. There are a lot of areas in which you factor in Joel’s opinion, but this is definitely not one of them. You two aren’t together and with the way he does nothing to show any discontent when the girls here start to look at him, he definitely doesn’t need you keeping his bed warm at night. 

“If I go, he wouldn’t be the only one there.” The fact that you’re trying to justify John’s presence leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. You’re a grown woman, free to associate with whoever you want. You might jokingly call him your old man from time to time, but he has no right. “And if even if he was, what does it matter?” 

His jaw locks and the downwards tilt of his chin erases the little bit of confidence you’ve managed to build. “You’ve seen the way that boy looks at you.”

You have to bite your tongue to avoid from blurting out that he’s also seen the way majority of the women you see on a daily basis look at him. Joel’s also exaggerating. John does not have any feelings for you, and if he did, it wouldn’t matter. It’s not like you see John as anything more than a friend. But even if you did--it is not his business. At all. 

“He doesn’t.” There’s little point in saying that, Joel’s not one to have his mind so easily swayed and he’s been wary of John since the beginning. Sometimes it even feels like the more you insist that he’s a good friend, the more Joel seems to dislike him. “And if he did, it doesn’t matter.” 

Your words feel like a retreat they shouldn’t need to be. Small, the meaning of the sentence compacted and straining against the limited syllables. A part of you expects Joel to understand what you do mean. That it doesn’t matter because it takes two interested parties to form any kind of relationship. That your mind isn’t even there in terms of feeling safe...that the only person who has ever made you feel safe enough to imagine anything beyond friendship is right in front of you. 

For the first time, Joel doesn’t pick up on the relevance of what isn’t said. You can feel his lack of understanding in the way he moves, placing one hand on the wall, near your head. You blink, trying in vain to explain the motion, explain his proximity. He’s caging you in. 

The heat of his body is practically inescapable, amplified by the way he smells. Joel showered a little earlier, his natural scent combining pleasantly with that of plain soap. After so many nights next to him, you would think you would have developed a tolerance. You haven’t. And even if you did, you doubt it’d matter...this is different. Dizzying. 

“Doesn’t matter?” 

He’s somehow even closer and somehow not touching you. The realization that that’s the worst part of this leaves your stomach fluttering. You need the feeling gone, so you force out the first words that come to mind, “It matters as much as all the girls that look at you like that.” 

It feels more bitter than it comes out, leaving a metallic taste on your tongue. You need out. You need space. You need sleep. Joel’s silence feels like opportunity, so as subtly as you can you try to shift away from the wall. Your back is off the wall for less than a second before you’re pushed back against it. 

Your body hits the wall before you can realize that Joel’s hand is on your hip. There’s too much surprise for that fact to settle, so you look up at him almost bewildered. You expect him to let go or at least look somewhat apologetic. He does the opposite, moving the hand on the wall under your jaw and closing the distance between you in a motion so quick you can barely register it. 

His mouth is on yours before your mind can catch up. It makes no difference to him. He’s rabid in his patience, taking what he wants without forcing your lips to part. His hand squeezes your hip and all at once it connects. You gasp and Joel pins you to the wall even more securely, deepening the kiss with an expert’s ease. 

It lasts until you can’t breathe and ends with his teeth grazing against your bottom lip as he pulls away. “All of this,” the words are exhaled lowly, “’Cause you’re jealous.” 

The kiss left you so light headed your first instinct is to just agree. To not think and do or say whatever you need to in order to get him that close again. But his tone is too sure, too teasing, and the implication isn’t something he can just get away with. “Jealous?” His smugness is hard to take with him holding you against the wall like this. It’s too vulnerable, like this might be some kind of game to him. It makes you feel transparent. Hollow. “Fuck whoever you want, I don’t care.” 

It’s like you’ve said nothing until Joel has the audacity to squeeze your hip. “Whoever I want?” His hand shifts up your hip, your shirt moving with him. “Hm.” His hum settles beneath your skin, effectively silencing you as his eyes take their time raking over your face and down your body. “Those were some big words from you.” 

Heat rushes to your face. It’s ridiculous--you curse more than that on a regular basis. He’s playing into context, too aware of what he’s doing. The urge to push burns twice as hard as buzzing in your chest. “They’re true. We’re not--we’re not anything, so if I want to go with--” 

“I’m not losin’ you.” There’s a desperation in there that comes out so hard it circles back to vulnerable. “You wanna go see your sister, we go see your sister. That’s how we got through everything else.” The hand on your hip moves down, his fingers dipping beneath the elastic waistband of your shorts. You hate yourself a little for the way your breath audibly catches. “Understand?” 

His hand lowers even further, long fingers pressing against the fabric of your underwear. You’re not breathing right and you can’t bring yourself to care. The only thing you can think of is closer. “Y-yes.” 

“’Yes’ what?” No sympathy in his voice or anything that would give away that he has a hand shoed down your pants. 

His touch picks up pace, rubbing against you until a whimper escapes your lips. “Yes, sir.”

Joel moves his hand away with no warning. The whine that escapes your lips doesn’t feel like your own. He’s barely touched you and you’re already like this. “Barely touched you and you’re already listening.” He hooks two fingers in between the band of your underwear. “Should’ve done this awhile again, then.” 

You’re burning all over, the only thing you can manage is a quick, “Shut up.” It lacks any bite. 

He pulls at the band of our underwear, letting it snap back into place. If you didn’t know any better, you’d consider the flash of something softer across his face as amusement. “If you want me to stop, you’ve gotta tell me.” 

Your nod feels desperate. Your entire body feels desperate. For the way he kissed you, the way he touched you. “I-I’ll tell you.” He’s still not moving, not doing anything. It’s some sort of punishment. It has to be. “Joel...” 

“You going to say ‘please’?” 

You have half a mind to tell him to fuck off, but then his fingers hook around your underwear again. A promise. “Please, Joel.” This is all unfamiliar but you trust Joel to get what you want, what you need. “Need you.” 

With no warning, he yanks down your shorts and underwear. They fall down your legs and you blindly kick them to the side. “Need me?” He tilts his head down, pressing an open mouthed kiss against your cheek, then two to your jaw. “Need me where, sweetheart?” 

God. Anywhere. Everywhere. Your desperation reminds you of how incredibly unfair it is that you’re already down to just our t-shirt and Joel’s still fully dressed. You move your hand slowly, carefully tugging at whatever piece of clothing on him you can reach. 

He’s unimpressed. “C’mon, use your big girl words.” His hand is in between your thighs, his fingers teasing at your entrance in a way that makes it impossible to focus on anything else. “You were usin’ them just fine a second ago.” 

“Joel,” he kisses your jaw again, forcing away all train of thought. It has to be intentional. “Joel,” again, too soft. 

“I know,” he exhales the words against your neck, “I know, sweetheart. Need me to take care of you.” Joel doesn’t wait for a reaction, just pushes his fingers fully into you. You gasp too loudly, Joel moves his free hand over your mouth. “Be a good girl and be quiet. Can’t wake up Ellie.” 

Shit. How did you not think of that? “You’ll be good and quiet for me? Let me stretch you out a bit first?” There’s a knot in your stomach that’s slowly taking over all of your senses. As long as Joel keeps working at it, you could promise him anything. You nod against the palm of his hand. 

You bite your tongue to keep from whimpering too loudly. “Need you to relax,” he presses into you even more firmly, “Get you ready for me.” 

He slowly eases his hand off of your face. “Joel, please.” You’re not even sure what you’re asking for, you just know you need more. You want him to consume you entirely. Feel him until he’s all there is.

You hear the sound of a belt buckle and his jeans shifting. Instinctually, you move a hand towards him, wanting to help, wanting to feel him. “There’ll be time for that, right now it’s about you.” You’re about to argue when he skillfully adds another finger. Fuck. “You’re tight,” he breathes, “No one’s ever touched you here?” 

His fingers curl inside of you and you have to burry your face into the fabric of his shirt to keep from crying out. “Only you.” 

“Look who’s found her manners.” He’s picking up the pace and smoothing down your hair as you squirm against him. “Should’ve done this sooner.” Just as the coil in your lower stomach tightens, Joel takes his hand back. 

You push yourself off of him, staring at him with an expression you know he’ll consider pouting. “Why’d you--” 

“Because I want you to remember this.” He pushes you back to the wall, pressing his body against you. The head of his cock brushes against your entrance. With no warning, he pushes into you. Your sharp gasp overlaps with Joel’s low groan. “Y’need a man to fuck the attitude out of you.” He moves slowly, the friction unbelievably overwhelming and somehow not enough. “That boy wouldn’t know what to do with you.” 

Joel presses you further into the wall, sinking into you as deep as possible before pulling out just to sink back in. His pace is even until his breathing picks up. You’re a mess against him, hiding your face in his chest when he starts fucking you with full force.

“You’re squeezing me so good.” Joel practically pants the words into your skin. “Fuck, ��m going to--you gonna finish with me, sweetheart?” 

Your mind is mush, you can barely nod against him as his thrusts start to lose their focus. You’re pushed over the edge as Joel’s teeth graze against your neck. He pulls at your orgasm, dragging it along until your legs are jelly and he’s pulling out in order to not finish inside you. 

The two of you stay holding onto each other for what feels like a long time and not enough. “You’re not goin’ anywhere, okay?”

You pull your head off of him enough to look him in the eye. “Not without you.” 

He smiles, lines that you can imagine kissing forever etching themselves into his skin. “That’s my girl.” Joel runs a hand up and down your back fondly. “Let’s go to bed,” he presses a kiss against your jaw, “Give me the space to properly appreciate you.”

The thought makes your body burn all over again. “You sure you aren’t tired out, old man?” 

Joel huffs out what’s almost a laugh, “We’ll see who’s tiring who out, sweetheart.” 

[ktgoodmorning]

"I'm fine."

Ona Batlle x Reader

You're overworking yourself more than you should be and Ona's worried about you. But you're fine !

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You yawned as you checked what time it was, sipping from your coffee as you did so. The clock blinked back at you, reading 5:00 am. Papers were strewn across the kitchen table as you regained your focus on your laptop in front of you, trying to finish all the work you could before your girlfriend was up and you both had to get ready to go to work. It was your fourth day in a row of this routine, up for hours getting caught up on your school work before going to work with Ona. 

You had recently been given a job working with the physios for Barcelona while you wrapped up your schooling. It was an incredible opportunity, something you couldn’t say no to, however it had piled on a significant amount of work. At the moment, your job was doing administrative duties for the physios, data tracking and record keeping to make sure it all ran smoothly. It was important for you to prove yourself so that once you finished school you could get offered a real physio job working with the players. But for now, you had your little office that you spent plenty of long hours in and that was all you needed, you just had to stay focused on your school work at the same time.

“Are you seriously up this early again?” You looked over your shoulder just to see Ona trudging towards you, still half asleep. Her hair was a tangled mess, voice rough with sleep as she made her way behind you, draping her arms over your shoulders lazily and pressing her face into your neck. 

“Oni I have to get all this work done you know that,” You kissed her cheek lightly, “I didn’t wake you up, did I?” Your free hand came up to rest on top of hers as she still stayed, hugging you from behind while you went back to your work. 

She shook her head in the crook of your neck, “how long have you been up? You need sleep, mi cielo.”

You let out a soft sigh, pausing your work momentarily, “I’m fine, I promise. I just need to stay caught up with everything. If you want, there’s some coffee on the counter but it might be cold now.” 

The brunette pressed a kiss to your cheek before standing to get the coffee you made. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how you avoided my question. And the way this coffee is ice cold has me thinking I really won’t like the answer.” She gave you a pointed look, a small smirk adorning her face, while you just rolled your eyes. “Will you at least tell me how many cups of coffee you’ve had so far?”

“This is number three.” She wasn’t sure she heard you correctly due to how softly you spoke. 

“Did you just say three?” you nodded. “It’s barely even 5:00 and you’ve had three cups of coffee. You’re obviously tired. Let’s go lie down, you’ve still got plenty of time before we have to leave. I’ll hold you, come on.” Your girlfriend stood up, immediately offering her hand, looking at you expectantly for you to join her in an extra hour of sleep. You cringed slightly, not getting up from your spot at the table but knowing she wasn’t going to like your answer.

“Ona you know I can’t do that. I can’t get behind on this school work. If you want to go back to sleep though, I’ll bring my computer and come sit with you?”

“That’s alright,” she shook her head and settled back into the chair next to you, slightly defeated that she couldn’t convince you, “I’ll stay out here with you, keep you company.”

“Thanks, love. Your company does make it slightly less miserable.”

“Well I’m certainly glad I don’t make it more miserable.” You giggled softly, sharing a soft kiss before she rested her head on your shoulder, watching you do your school work while she settled into your side.  

You knew you were exhausted and that Ona was right, but at the moment it was just the price you had to pay. There was only about a month left until you finished school, then your workload would be cut in half. The problem at the moment was the combination of school plus your new job that was killing you. You had to keep up with both, horribly desperate to prove yourself in every possible way. So if it meant being a little short on sleep, you could handle it. By getting up early and staying up late, doing as much as possible when Ona was asleep, it left you more time to spend with Ona during the day. The more you did it, the more your girlfriend seemed to realize just how tired you were becoming, but you just had to push through it for another month and then it would be over. 

About an hour later, you were surprised to see that your girlfriend was still awake against your shoulder. You assumed it was boring or uncomfortable for her to be sitting there that long with nothing to do besides watch you do homework and drink cold coffee, but Ona didn’t seem to mind. 

She remained snuggled into your side until her alarm went off, signaling that you both needed to get ready to go. As soon as you abandoned your work, you were back to your usual self, making conversation with each other and dancing around to some of your favorite music as you got ready for the day together. 

You had a little routine together where you often did each other's hair in the morning. It didn’t matter what it was, it was just a small way of getting to connect with each other and start your day off on a high note. So there you sat, in front of your mirror while Ona threaded her fingers through your hair as you shut your eyes and leaned back into her hands. “You always end up looking like you’re gonna fall asleep when I play with your hair.” she giggled at you.

“Yeah, it's relaxing,” you shrugged, “And you say I always look like I’m gonna fall asleep so it’s really nothing out of the ordinary anyways.”

“Hmm, that’s true, cause you never sleep, mi cielo.” Her hands carefully pulled your hair back into a low bun for you, making sure it was up to your standards before you switched spots to do her braid. Even though it was small, you were extremely grateful for this part of your routine. Feeling her hands move along your scalp always brought you comfort during your least favorite time of day. 

.

When you arrived at the training grounds, Ona walked you to your office just as she always did, carrying your bag for you and giving you plenty of kisses before she headed off to the locker room. The second she left your office, you immediately buried yourself in your work. The coffee machine in your office was working overtime trying to keep up with you while you only looked away from your work long enough to brew a new cup. It seemed as though your days of sleepless nights were starting to catch up with you as you continued to work harder to remain focused. 

Most days at work, you’d eat lunch with Ona. Either she’d bring her lunch to your office or, more commonly, you’d take your lunch to go eat with her and her teammates. You knew most of them, especially the ones she was closer with, so you liked having the break outside the confines of your office. 

But today you couldn’t do that. 

If you just spent your lunch working on your school work, you would have time to spend with Ona after you both finished working, which seemed like a much better use of your time. That way it’d be just the two of you, not stuck at work, able to spend some quality time together. 

So you did the one thing you almost never did, and shut your office door, signaling to everyone to leave you uninterrupted. Of course when it was fifteen minutes into your lunch breaks and you still hadn’t filled the seat Ona had saved for you at the table with her friends, she picked up her plate and made her way to your office, thinking that’s what you were intending on. You heard her footsteps stop outside your door, and watched as she seemed to just pause there, figuring out what to do. On one hand, she knew that your closed door meant you were busy, but on the other hand, she also knew it was your lunch break. 

When she finally made up her mind, she opened your door, ever so slowly, peeking her head through the small crack and finally seeing what had kept you from her- more school work. Upon seeing what you were doing, the brunette further opened your door and entered, settling into the extra chair across from your desk to eat her lunch. “Are you really working through lunch? No offense but you look like you haven’t slept in days, babe. You look like you could pass out at any second, you really need to take a break.”

“Ona, I’m fine. If I finish this now, then I’ll have time to spend with you tonight once we’re done here. Then I’ll take a break. With you.” You gave her a cheesy smile, hoping she’d accept your answer but still knowing she probably wouldn’t. 

“As much as I’d like some time with you, it’s not me I’m worried about. You need a break. For you. Look me in the eyes and tell me what time you went to bed last night. Or if you went to bed for that matter.” 

Of course she saw right through you and you should’ve expected that. Ona knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes. “I’m okay, I promise. I’m a little tired, sure, but I’ll be fine. I just have to get to graduation and then I’ll have a normal schedule again.” 

Your girlfriend was starting to get frustrated by your insistence and refusal to listen. She knew you were running yourself to death and needed nothing more than a break to keep functioning. “(Y/n) you’re not listening. That’s the fifth time in the last two minutes that you’ve yawned, don’t think I don’t notice. When was the last time your head hit a pillow?”

“Ona. I’m fi-”

“If you say you’re fine one more time I might lose my mind.” She took a deep breath, trying to remain calm and not push her frustrations onto you further. The defender quickly stood up, pulling you up from your chair abruptly, “That’s it! We’re getting you out of this stupid office! 

You knew there was no point in arguing with her, allowing her to drag you down the hallway into a lounge area when some of her teammates were scattered around the room keeping themselves busy. Some were finishing lunch, some of the younger girls doing school work of their own, others just relaxing together and hanging out. Ona pulled you onto a couch that had some sort of football game playing in front of it, many of the girls half-watching it. She immediately pulled you into her side, forcing you to cuddle up to her- something she wouldn’t normally do when you were both at work, but decided it was necessary at that moment. 

“Lay down. I’ll set an alarm to wake you up when your lunch is over, just please, rest.” You gave her a half-hearted glare, partially for pulling you away from your schoolwork but partially because you doubted you’d be able to sleep in a space like this. But once again, Ona saw right through you. “Close your eyes and stop fighting it. I’ll be right here with you, even if you can’t actually sleep, you need a break. And you’re already half asleep so I’m really not too worried about it. I’ve got you, mi cielo.” 

You gave her a slight nod before making yourself comfortable with your head on her lap, trying to do as she asked. You knew you were tired but didn’t fully comprehend how bad it was until your body instantly succumbed to your exhaustion. Within minutes, you had passed out on the couch. Ona’s teammates knew not to bother you having heard all of the defender’s concerns about you and your lack of sleep lately. All she got from them were a few knowing glances, happy to see how relieved Ona was at the sight of you sleeping on her. 

Your girlfriend fully intended on waking you up at the same time you normally ended your lunch and went back to work, but you were so peaceful on her lap, and she knew how badly you needed the sleep that she had a hard time doing so. She knew she hated lying to you and that you’d likely be pissed off at her, but Ona really, truly felt that she didn’t have a choice- she had to let you sleep. You were running yourself into the ground and this seemed to be the only hope at slowing you down and allowing your body to recuperate. 

When it was time for her to go back to her own training, Alexia came over to grab her, stopping in front of the younger woman when she saw the current position she was in, flashing her a sympathetic look. “Oni, you stay with your girl, I’ll cover for you. It’s just a regular gym session so you can make it up another time. Let her sleep.” 

She was shocked to hear her captain so willing to allow her to miss a gym session, just to let you keep sleeping, but Alexia knew how worried she had been about you, everyone did. It was all Ona had talked about for the last week- how you were exhausted and overworked and rarely sleeping more than a few hours. And Ona had been playing full 90’s lately so Alexia knew she could also afford the break to let her body recover alongside yours. “Thank you, Ale. Seriously, I owe you.” 

“Don’t mention it. You could use the sleep too, so why don’t you both just use the afternoon to catch up. I’ll let the physios know about (y/n). They’ve been pushing more than anyone that she needs a break so they’ll be glad to know she finally has one.” 

Ona gave her captain another nod, grateful for the understanding, before getting comfy alongside you so she could also get some shut-eye. Alexia turned down the volume of the TV and lowered the lights before bringing a throw blanket to throw on top of you both, quietly chuckling at Ona as she did so, “Let me just be a mom for a second, tuck you in and tell you sweet dreams.” The blonde placed a quick kiss on both of your foreheads before leaving the two of you alone, knowing just how badly both of you needed it.

It was hours later when you woke up on Ona’s lap, still on a couch at the Barca training facility. As your eyes slowly creeped open, you noticed how quiet the room was, as if there wasn’t a team member within a mile radius of you. You looked around some, a bit confused as to how you ended up in the position you did when you finally thought to check your watch- 5:47 PM. 

You jolted up, startling Ona awake as you did so, confused as to how you could’ve slept through your entire afternoon. “Ona, what the hell?! You were supposed to wake me up! How did I just sleep through the entire afternoon, I was supposed to be working!” 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay I promise. Ale agreed we should let you sleep, the other physios were totally okay with it, she double checked and everything. It’s okay.” She watched the tension physically leave your body as you let out a sigh, partially relieved to hear that nobody would be mad at you for ignoring your work all afternoon, partially annoyed that your girlfriend forced you into taking a nap. It was hard to be mad at her though when you saw the way she looked at you, her eyes big and filled with concern.“You fell asleep right on my lap. It was cute. You’re adorable when you’re sleeping, you know that?”

 You collapsed back into her arms for a hug, appreciative at her insistence to take care of you, even if you didn’t want to do it yourself. “Thank you, Oni. I love you, clearly I needed that.”

 She held you close, rocking you gently before separating herself. “And I love you, mi cielo.” She pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, “why don’t we go home? Snuggle for real, not at work, and then get to bed?” You responded with a slight nod before allowing her to help you up, and go gather your things to drive you both home. 

.

On the way home Ona made the executive decision to pick up some takeout so you could really just focus on relaxing together once you got home. When you arrived, you did just that. Your girlfriend wouldn’t let you lift a finger, fully insisting that she had to take care of you so you could wind down and take a break. She led you directly to your room, sitting you on the bed while she changed you from your work clothes and into an old sweatshirt of hers with some comfy shorts. The defender made sure you were fully settled on the couch in a pile of pillows and blankets with your food before she took a shower and got changed to join you. 

In the time that she was away, you had dozed off again in the cocoon she had made you in the living room, only waking up when you heard her footsteps. “Sorry, were you sleeping? I didn’t mean to wake you, go back to sleep.” She sat down next to you, stroking your hair soothingly, knowing just how much it put you to sleep when she played with your hair. 

“Why don’t we just go to bed instead? You can read or something but it might be easier if I’m just in bed already before I fall asleep again.” Your girlfriend gave you a nod before leading you into your bed, snuggling up next to you. 

Once you had settled in bed, you were basically laying on top of her, her hands holding you tightly against her with your head on her chest, listening to her heartbeats. “Goodnight kiss before you fall asleep?” The brunette left a light tap on your back, getting your attention before you leaned up to fulfill her request, happy to oblige. 

“Do you wanna hear about the dream I had last night?” Ona asked you quietly, knowing her voice would lull you to sleep if you let her keep talking. You did this anytime either of you struggled to fall asleep- talking softly, mostly nonsense about anything and everything while the other half-listened until eventually falling asleep. You gave her a somewhat excited nod, knowing that her voice was always exactly what you needed. 

So there you were, while Ona went on and on about her latest dream and you drifted back into sleep, not processing any of your words. “So then I was going to-” she looked down, noticing how your breaths had slowed, “oh okay you’re already asleep, I’m just talking to myself now, cool.” The brunette breathed out a slight chuckle at the sight of you. “Buenas noches, mi cielo. Sweet dreams.” She pressed a long kiss to your hairline, thankful to finally see you at peace, for the first time in at least a week- completely at rest in your lover’s arms.

hope you enjoyed! always appreciate any feedback and requests :)

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