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#I FELT SO BAD. because the first time i blowed his head off. so i did all that again but shot him in the torso
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Part 6 of Butcher!Simon x gn!reader We get a glimpse of the boy's groupchat too, in this. Simon is still down bad. I feel like the quality of the chapters declined but I hope it'll get back to how it was soon Gonna toss this out there and hide
So you don’t immediately agree to go to the concert with him. Which, you know, kinda sucks. It would have been so perfect but he gets it. You wouldn’t be allowed to bring your mutt with you and he’s basically still a stranger to you (insanity, because he feels about ready to ask for your hand in marriage) so it would have actually been a surprise if you said yes.
Somehow though, he has no idea how, he convinced you to go get a coffee with him some time.
“How about a deal then?”
You’d perked up, one brow raised skeptically (an expression which had him fight the urge to get on his knees) and asked: “What kind of deal?”
“We’ll go get coffee together. And if you decide ‘m trustworthy enough, you’ll reconsider going wi’ me.”
You’d tilted your head at that brows furrowed adorably and he’d desperately wanted to kiss the cute creases between your brows and smooth them away with his thumb.
He stood stock still as you seemed to appraise him, looking him up and down. Your gaze way more intense than he anticipated but he found that he didn’t mind being looked at as long as it was you looking at him (god, he hoped you never stopped looking at him, please don’t stop looking at him).
Then you’d nodded and he felt his shoulders drop, having held them tensely in expectation.
“I want to decide where”, you’d asserted and he’d immediately agreed with a: “Anything you want, sweetheart.”
He doesn’t know what he’d be doing if you hadn’t agreed. Probably mope around at Gaz’ bar because that would have meant his chances of getting to know you are pretty much zero.
You did agree though and Simon is about ready to slap himself when he catches himself in front of his mirror with two nearly identical black shirts. Since when did he turn into someone with “I don’t know what to wear!” problems?
Since you. Simple as that and he’d be embarrassed if he wasn’t alone at home. The thought of meeting you for coffee makes him smile. He catches the soft raise of the corners of his lips and curiously watches himself in the mirror.
It’s weird, seeing himself smile and suddenly he’s even more giddy. He can’t wait to see you and make you his (whoa, there, he's gotta convince you he's harmless first, harmless to you at least).
For a second he wonders if you're going crazy over what to wear too (probably not but he can hope) and then he decides that it doesn't matter. He gets to meet you, that's the only important thing.
Honestly you could show up naked and he’d be ecstatic (okay that’s a horrible example, because he would be indeed ecstatic). No, you could show up looking like you couldn't care less and he'd be thankful that you didn't forget about meeting him.
He looks at himself in the mirror, sighs over his thoughts and decides on one of the shirts.
It’s no use, no matter what he wears he can’t hide that he’s big and burly and he prays that you won’t be put off (you seemed fine at the shop but how will you feel in another setting?).
He’ll be damned if he doesn’t do everything in his power to make the date enjoyable for you.
His phone vibrates and he looks at a text from Johnny in the 'Tea is for the weak' group chat (Johnny the little shit made it and refused to change the name).
🧼: Can we meet up today instead of the usual?
Normally Simon would immediately be on board and feel horrible if he missed their weekly night out, but this time a smirk plays on his lips when he answeres:
💀: No can do, got a date
He sets his phone aside and a second later the chat blows up.
🧼: DATE?
🧼: GHOST?
🧼: DETAILS???
Captain Price: Gonna need a debrief, Son
Gazelle: Tell me it’s the cutie you keep raving on about
🧼: No way
💀: Coffee date with the cutie
🧼: ABOUT DAMN TIME LT
🧼: Thought you’d lost your balls along with your uniform
💀: don’t project, Johnny boy
🧼: Uncalled for!
🧼: Just checked, still got both
💀: Yet I'm the one with the date
Gazelle: How about we make it at 2200 so you can come too?
Captain Price: Sound good, want the details
🧼: HELL YEAH
💀: you’re insufferable
Captain Price: You better show
💀: Affirmative, Sir
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dormiloncito · 6 months
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one thing about me i hate games that have consequenses
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glitchfiles · 6 months
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only 'til dawn. [ljn]
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pairing ⋆ badboy!jeno x inexperienced/goodgirl!reader
wordcount ⋆ 2.7k+
warnings ⋆ SMUT MINORS DNI!!!, softdom!jeno, smoking, shotgunning, car sex, big dick jeno, corruption, praise, light degradation, oral (m receiving), cowgirl, spanking (once), light choking, creampie...
note ⋆ i had to leave this one in my drafts for some time first because i didn't want to upload two car sex fics in a row then i wanted to rewrite it then i couldn't be asked to do that fully... so yeah, enjoy :D
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"fuck," jeno drawls out as his head lolls to the side, "you're shit at this." he chuckles at your feeble attempt to give him a blowjob.
you look up at him, he seems totally unphased by your attempts to get him off, even going as far as to fish a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of the inner pocket of his leather jacket. the scowl that forms on your brow shows how much it dents your pride; he smirks down at you tauntingly.
"open your mouth a little more." he places a cigarette between his lips and lights the end. "you don't mind if i smoke, right?" you roll your eyes, he could have asked before. at least he had the courtesy to wind the window down.
there was no reason for you to debase yourself like this, the whole situation is beyond demeaning. you’re on your knees in the back of jeno’s car, struggling to please him and now he’s having a smoke mid-head?!
it felt as if your jaw was about to unhinge at any moment, you didn’t know it could stretch this far. the girls in the videos made it look so easy, compared to them, the way you were slobbering all over his girth was far from sexy. not to mention how you were clumsily pumping the rest of his length. not to toot your own horn, but you picked things up easily, this was a whole different ballpark to academic work. 
"you're too big," you whine. your lack of experience definitely didn't have anything to do with the shoddy head you were giving. how he was still hard was a wonder, you’re sure he’s seconds away from going flaccid.
normally, he would have put an end to the whole thing. it's not like he wasn't one text away from a few girls that could suck the soul out of him. however, considering how unsavoury his reputation was, the fact that you, the university’s golden girl, and much-revered student union president, were so eager to please him behind closed doors inflated his ego more than anything else could.
he couldn’t help but find humour in how ardently you refused to acknowledge him in public at times like this; if you spotted him on campus you looked the other way. but the moment he shot you a text, you were swooning and giggling, begging to meet up. so, here you were, in the dead of night, at the back of an empty parking lot a couple of miles away from campus.
“you’re lucky you have a patient teacher, i’m going to turn you into an expert!” jeno directs you between drags of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out of the windows as he laughs at you being unable to get the hang of it. saying you feel frustrated would be an understatement.
"i don't want to do this anymore," you sit up, finally admitting defeat and letting his heavy cock flop down against his abdomen. if jeno were a better person, he would have stopped you a few minutes ago, but you were so eager to please him and he loved the adorable pout on your lips and how your brows furrowed whenever you were exasperated.
"then what do you want to do?" you can think of a few things, but they would be super embarrassing to say. so, you refused to answer. he sighs before slotting his cigarette between his lips, leaving his hands free to pull you onto his lap.
"wanna try?" you don't know what possesses you, but you nod. 
how bad can it be? 
he taps the burnt end off, letting the ashes fall out the window before setting the cigarette between your lips. it feels childish to admit, but the fact that you had shared an indirect kiss makes you smile. this doesn't last long, though; after a short pull, you end up choking.
"god, that's awful!" you squeak as he belly laughs, only stopping when you hit his chest. all he's done tonight is tease you.
"i thought so too when i first tried." he soothes you, so as to not incur any more of your light-handed wrath. "why don't we start with some baby steps?" 
you're unsure what he means until his large, rough hand is placed gently under your jaw and his thumb brushes over your lower lip, "open up for me, angel."
he takes a long drag before tilting his head to the side and filling your mouth with a thick cloud of smoke. you're not sure what this is, but it feels intimate. it feels as if he’s breathing life into you. your whole body warms and tingles, your head spins, and a fire lights in your core.
once his lungs are empty, he seals it with a kiss. it's slow and passionate. his hand slides round to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. maybe it’s the nicotine running through your veins, you feel lightheaded. you let him slip his tongue past your lips to dance around your own.
the sweet flavour of your strawberry lip balm he was used to intermingled with the bitterness of his cigarette. he can't help but groan at the fact you taste a lot more like him now. 
the cigarette he's momentarily forgotten in his hand gets flicked away to burn to a butt somewhere on the tarmac outside. his now free hand comes to rest on your hip. it guides your body forwards, bringing your clothed centre flush against his bare cock.
you mewl into his mouth, he swallows down the sound. he’s greedy for more and starts rocking against you. grinding out then gulping down your noises, they go straight down to his cock. it’s throbbing, you can feel how painfully hard he is underneath you. only when he’s met with an uncomfortable stickiness due to his precum seeping through his shirt does he put an end to his gluttony.
a begrudging whine fills the car as he pulls your lips away from him. the look in his eyes alone was almost enough to make you cream, it was different to the cocky, yet lewd, eye fucking that seemed to be his default. those dark eyes of his turned into endless pits of boundless desire.
warm hands glide under your sweater, tugging it over your head, off your body to let it land somewhere in the front of his car. he does the same with his own shirt, sitting back to let you admire the rippling muscles on his torso. you delicately placed a hand on his chest, sliding it down to his abdomen; it seems he doesn’t have to have his dick in your mouth to have you drooling over him.
“like what you see, baby?” the smug look on his face makes your stomach twist.
“shut up,” you smash your lips against his again before he can speak again. 
jeno rushes to unclasp your bra, pushing the fabric out of his way so he can knead at your breasts; not before long, his mouth leaves you to pepper kisses down your neck then it encloses around one of your pert nipples. 
“mmm, jeno!” you mewl as his tongue laps at the bud, causing your back to arch in search of more stimulation. a hand weaves itself into his inky, thick locks, pushing him to give attention to the other side. “jeno, more!”
“i love hearing you say my name,” he growls against your chest, “wanted to hear you say it all week, but you don’t even spare me a glance unless i have my cock out.” 
you ignore the slight bitterness in his tone focusing on how he nips at your skin, leaving dark marks he hopes will last until he next sees you. marks that he hopes others will see and know you belong to someone; you’ll probably chastise him later over text but he doesn’t care, anything to keep him on your mind like you're always on his. 
reluctantly, he detaches himself from your chest and sits back, eyeing the drying traces of saliva he left with a dazed smile. 
“what next? tell me.” his hands delicately caress your hips, your cheeks begin to heat up and you avoid his eye contact. “don’t act all coy now, where’s the girl that begged me to drive her out here and fuck her dumb?” 
you were still clinging onto the last dregs of your virtuous good girl persona - the last white spots on a canvas he had first found unsullied. your first sin had been naivety, too easily seduced by a good-looking face and the sweet nothings he whispered in your ears but he had been more than happy to lengthen the list.
you wondered if this was how you had always been - or was he corrupting you. he broke down every conception you had of yourself and no one outside of the car you both sat in would believe this was you - you barely did yourself. some would say he was ruining you, but he’d never make you do something you didn’t want to, this was all you.
“please…” you let your head fall onto the crook of his neck, voice barely above a whisper. “want you inside.”
“a smart girl like you can be more descriptive than that.” he strokes a finger down your back, leaving a trail of heat on your spine, in hopes of prompting lewder vocabulary. you take a moment to chew your bottom lip and swallow down the last bit of dignity you had.
“please, fuck me.” you weep against the shell of his ear, “fill my pussy up, i need you so bad, jeno.” 
“sound so pretty when you tell me what you want.” his low-toned praise makes you shiver as he flips your skirt up and raises your hips. he pushes your panties to the side to position his cock at your dripping entrance. taking a second to tease your slit, making sure to brush over your swollen clit, only to hold you still when your hips jerk forward.
“look at me, angel.” you perk up for him, “so beautiful,” he tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear. his gaze holds yours firmly as he brings you down on his bulbous tip, stretching you out slowly.
you struggle to keep your eyes from shutting. your mouth hangs open letting out hushed gasps as you sink down an inch at a time. he thinks you’re the prettiest creature he’s ever laid eyes on. 
“keep going... yeah, just like that... so good...” his soft gaze, light touch and encouraging words make things easier. he can feel your walls begin to relax and hungrily accept his girth. 
“‘s so fucking big,” you wail out, not even having taken him fully. you couldn’t quite yet without his help, though you’ll get there eventually - he’d make sure of that. 
“i know, baby, but you take me so well. can you move for me?” you nod shyly, lifting yourself and dropping back down as far as you can with a long whine. up and down, you split yourself open over and over. 
jeno’s hands press into your flesh, silently encouraging you to take more of him. you work your hips faster, earning a deep groan from him as his head falls back. instinctively, your mouth attaches itself to his neck, mimicking the way he had kissed and sucked at your own earlier.
“for such a sweet, innocent girl, you sure do ride like a slut.” he breathily laughs as his hand comes down on your ass with a sounding slap. “like the way my cock stretches this tight cunt out.” there’s no hiding the way your walls clench at the sharp sting. you try to find refuge from your embarrassment by hiding your face in his shoulder, but he quickly takes ahold of your throat, forcing you to sit up straight.
“don’t hide from me,” he tells you warningly and squeezes your neck lightly. once again your eyes lock, his stare as intense as ever. your teeth sink into your bottom lip and you rest your hands on his strong chest, adopting a faster pace. 
he lets out moans which you naturally reciprocate, however, you embellish yours with his name; you feel his cock twitch at the sound of it. the look in his eyes turns wild as his fingers dig deeper into the meat of your ass, forming a nearly bruising grip; with the other hand, he’s careful not to cut off airflow but forms a hold that leaves you feeling dizzy. 
“you know exactly what you do to me.” he chuckles, “you were fucking made for me, made for taking my cock, weren’t you? yeah, so perfect, angel.”
your legs begin to shake, his words and his cock are quickly pushing you towards the pinnacle. you try your very best to work through the overwhelming pleasure and the ache in your thighs, wanting to get him off since you failed at sucking his dick. but you can't seem to power through it, tears well in your eyes as everything becomes too overwhelming, it's far too much.
“need help, baby?” his soft spot for you wins, “did such a good job for me. i’ll take care of you, make you cum all over my cock. want that?”
“please, need to cum so bad.” his hand leaves your neck and places itself and your other asscheek. he plants his feet firmly and then rams up into you.
your brain goes blank in an instant. 
he’s deep. so deep. too deep!
you cry out, nails digging into his broad, muscular shoulders to anchor yourself. the tears that had threatened to leave your eyes before stream down your face, staining your cheeks. your whole body quivers as his cock lays kisses on your cervix with each thrust. 
“jeno, oh my god, right there!” you practically scream. his face screws at the feeling of your walls constricting, getting tighter by the second and making it harder to move; he powers through by jackhammering into you with more force. 
it feels like you could break at any moment, he's bouncing you on his cock like you're a ragdoll and you're too weak to do anything but take and enjoy it. all it takes is a few more thrusts before you’re creaming all over him. your body seizes as your eyes roll back, and his name tumbles from your lips incessantly in pleasured sobs. 
it’s hard to keep you in one place as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, but he handles your squirming body with ease using his strength. the most ungodly wet squelches fill the car as he races towards his own release, your sticky mess clings to both of your thighs. 
“shit… pussy’s sucking me in so deep, gonna cum.” his chest rises and falls dramatically, he can barely breathe. his thrusts get choppier as he loses himself to the feral urge to paint your insides pearly white.
a heavy groan rips through him as his balls tighten, he nestles his cock nice and deep as he pours hot spurts of cum into you. he fills you with warmth; you feel complete for a moment. unfortunately, all good things must come to an end eventually. 
you could almost start crying again when he pulls you off of him. his praise on how well you took his cum as it dribbles out of your cunt makes up for it, though. his tongue swipes across his lips as he watches it drip all over his cock, unbothered by the fact half of it is soiling his leather car seats too. 
the sound of your wild breathing is all that fills the car for a moment until his lips find yours one last time. breathlessly kissing you, there is less vigour than before but just as much passion. your heart warms for a moment at the almost bashful smile on his face as he rests his forehead against yours and wipes the tears that still cling to your soft skin.
this feels right, perfect even, but it only takes a few words for him to fuck it all up.
“wanna come over to mine?” jeno regrets his words immediately, the expression on your face sour at the thought of someone spotting you walking into his dorm or one of his loud-mouthed roommates blabbering about you spending the night together.
give jeno a hand and he’ll end up taking the whole arm.
you pull away from him suddenly remembering who you are.
“don’t be ridiculous, you know i can’t even be caught dead with you.” you grimace at the mess between your legs as you reposition your panties; then, you search for the clothing he had strewn around the car.
you don’t even look at him when you demand him to. “just drop me off where you usually do.”
jeno grins even at your cold-hearted rejection. not just anyone could say they had a place between your legs; he’s sure he’ll have a place in your heart too soon enough…
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★ thanks for reading! my inbox is open for feedback and requests! :3
© glitchfiles
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hotchscvm · 11 months
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bad ideas (and good results)
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pairings: aaron hotchner x reader, sort of spencer reid x reader
summary: after aaron’s rejection, you enlist spencer’s help to make him jealous.
word count: 4.2k
warnings: reader putting on a naked show, airplane turbulence, reid calling reader out for daddy issues
a/n: accidentally put too much spencer in this whoops
You couldn’t take it anymore.
The tension between the two of you was so palpable you were practically choking on it. You couldn’t be alone in a room with him without resisting the urge to throw yourself at him. Even with others around, you still had to peel off your drenched panties when you got home and take a cold shower.
And you knew he felt the same, though he wasn’t as obvious about how it affected him. The team had commented how you were his soft spot, always assigning you to him on cases (when you were newer, you had brushed the thought aside, thinking he wanted to watch over you and evaluate your work), getting your favorite coffee every morning and even putting his jacket around you when you’d been soaked in lake water after catching the unsub.
So when you decided to take the leap and ask him if he wanted to have dinner, you weren’t expecting him to reject you so blatantly. Just a flat-out no. Didn’t even try cushioning the blow.
You still couldn’t erase his expression from your memories as he told you he didn’t like you in that way. Confused at the time, you had stood there dumbfounded by what he was saying. Walking out of his office and heading home was a blur and you wondered if you had imagined his previous actions.
Sitting on your couch with a bottle of wine in hand, you thought about your interactions. Surely you didn’t imagine the way he looked at you on those nights you stayed late to help him with paperwork? Or the way he had comforted you after an unsub had harassed you mercilessly during an interrogation. Or when you had to share that hotel room in Alaska and sleep in the same bed for “warmth.”
After an hour of watching The Wedding Date, you had got an idea that was so delusional it might work. Calling Spencer in the wee hours of the night had him pick up the phone after the second ring, concerned it was an emergency. In a way it was, and he had gotten to your apartment in record time.
He had barely knocked on the door when you swung it open, grabbing by the arm and practically dragging him and his Jesus haircut inside. Spencer raised an eyebrow at your excitement, glancing at the state of your apartment as you drag him to the couch.
“What’s going on? Why’d you need me to come at,” he checks his watch. “Eleven thirty-seven at night?”
You sighed, pushing him to sit on the couch and grabbing the remote. “I kind of asked Hotch out. And before you congratulate me for making the first move, he doesn’t feel the same and basically told me he found me ugly and disgusting.”
Spencer gave you a skeptical look. “He did not say that.”
“Whatever, it was implied,” you reply and Boy Genius gives out a snort at your dramatics. “Anyways, I was watching The Wedding Date when I got this idea … In the movie, this girl hires an escort to be her date to her sister’s wedding because her ex is going to be there. And I was thinking …”
“Go on.” he encourages.
Spencer was the only one to know about your crush on Aaron. The others, especially the girls, had a suspicion you did but Spencer was the one you spilled all your information to. Mostly because he was the first to catch you making eyes at your boss and the closest in age to you. He had listened to the details of your days with Aaron, sometimes debriefing you on how Aaron had interacted with you, the words he had said about you, or the way his body language gave him away. You had eaten up everything he had said in the hopes it had been true.
He was also the only one you could go to with this plan. Derek would’ve had you relayed all the details of your crush to him before agreeing and you didn’t want to tell him he had been right about your crush. You’d have rather died than have Derek Morgan know he was right. Spencer was sweet and attractive, and despite your taste for older men than the doctor, it would be believable considering how much time you spend with each other outside of work.
“I was thinking that we fake date to make Hotch jealous.” you finish, slightly grimacing at how stupid the plan was now that you said it out loud. Before Spencer could reply, you jumped in. “I know it probably won’t make him jealous considering he doesn’t like me that way but on the off chance that it does–I kind of want him to hurt a fraction of what I had tonight. And you probably think the plan is idiotic and pathetic–”
“Alright,” he said, cutting off your rambling. When you raise an eyebrow, he lifts a shoulder. “I don’t think it's idiotic or pathetic. I think we should do it.”
It took you a few seconds to process his words. “Really?”
Spencer nods, giving you a small smile. “Yes, I would do anything for you. Besides, it would be a good experiment and I love experiments.”
You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “Of course you do.”
“So how is this fake dating thing going to work?”
You spend a good half hour talking about the parameters of the plan. Both of you had decided it was best to keep it subtle instead of announcing to the team you were “seeing” each other. Neither of you would confirm it and if asked, you’d redirect the topic somewhat noticeably so whoever had asked would be able to pick up on it.
Spencer surprised you when he came up with the idea for small touches and light flirting. When you had given him a look, he was quick to explain his idea. Obviously, you had to be affectionate towards each other in front of the team and especially Aaron, but not so much that it qualified as PDA.
The smart doctor had proposed small touches like lingering fingers, a hand on a shoulder (you pointed out you did this with him quite often and he argued it would only make more sense to keep doing it), hair ruffling (again you told him you’ve done this to him and he admitted he liked getting his hair played a certain way), and hand squeezes.
You waited for the shock on Spencer’s face when you wondered out loud if it was effective for you to “sneak” into his hotel room during a case and have a member of the team see you going into his room so they could relay what they saw to the others; instead, you were met with an intuitive hum of agreement.
By the time you’d gotten done with planning, it was ten minutes past midnight and Spencer was yawning every few minutes. And while his apartment was only about ten blocks from yours, you offered for him to stay the night with the promise to stop at his place before work for him to get a change of clothes. He accepted and both of you had fallen asleep in the living room while the credits of the movie played in the background.
In the morning, you came to the realization that the wine you had drank had caused you to oversleep, and keeping Spencer up past midnight had also caused him to wake up about half an hour later than usual. You slapped him awake with a pillow before rushing to get ready.
Spencer had been half asleep as he got in your car but after a near-death experience with a semi, he had woken up and clutched his seatbelt all the way to work. As you entered the building, you were rolling your eyes as he mumbled how you were more of a reckless driver than Derek–impossible–and how he feared for his life whenever you were in the driver’s seat.
As soon as you pushed through the glass doors, Emily noticed something different. You placed your stuff on your desk, plopping down on your chair when she sits on your desk, glancing between you and Spencer, eyebrows raised.
“Reid, are you wearing the same sweater from yesterday?” she questioned, and your ears perked up at her words.
Your eyes flicker to Spencer’s outfit. With your lateness, you weren’t able to stop at Spencer’s place and he had assured you he could change into something from his go bag. He was in the midst of picking up the duffel when Emily commented on his fashion sense. You gave him a look to play along but he was looking down at his outfit to notice.
He tilted his head, nodding. “Yeah, we woke up late this morning.”
You’ve never seen Emily’s head turn so fast–you were worried she had accidentally snapped her own neck. The brunette smirked at you before turning back to Spencer. “We?”
Spencer looked up, eyes finally meeting yours. His eyes flickered with recognition and took the opportunity to start your idea. His slight blush was the cherry on top. “What?”
Emily’s smirk grew, and she looked like a cat that swallowed a canary. She turned to you, giving you the look she’d make when a guy would flirt with you during a girl’s night out. “So … what’d you do last night?”
You couldn’t help but grin at her nosiness. “Work. Long, hard work.”
“Yeah, I bet.” she chuckled, side-eyeing Spencer. “The work definitely looks hard when you’re doing it.”
The water you sipped trickled out of your mouth at the innuendo, and you furiously wiped your chin. Emily cackled at her own joke, drawing JJ’s attention from nearby. You try to ignore her, gently pushing her off your desk, mumbling about having to do work, but it only makes her gasp for breath.
JJ sauntered over to your desk, curious at whatever made Emily cackle like the green witch from the Kansas movie. “What’s going on here?”
Emily leans over to whisper in her ear before pointing at Spencer who had taken his go-bag along with him to the bathroom. JJ adopts Emily’s smirk, sharing a look with the brunette before glancing between you and the men’s bathroom.
The blonde pulls up a chair next to yours, the girls surrounding your desks. JJ leans in close, grinning mad wildly at you. “I thought you liked Hotch, not Spence.”
You rolled your eyes, pretending to be annoyed by the whole thing while you smiled internally. “I don’t like either of them, beyond friends. … Stop looking at me like that!”
“Clearly you like Reid more than that if you guys spent the night together.” Emily wiggled her brows, earning another chuckle from JJ. She yelped at the small smack you gave her on the arm.
“We didn’t spend the night together.” you hissed, keeping your voice low. How you would’ve loved to show Rossi your performance right now after he commented you were a terrible liar. “We were doing paperwork together and we fell asleep because it was late and so we woke up late.”
The girls gave each other a look, nodding at you, clearly not believing the semi-lie you told. (Did it count as a lie if you told them the half-truth but in a way that was unconvincing?)
“Uh-huh.”
“Of course. It makes perfect sense.”
“Yeah, especially if you guys were up late. It’s only reasonable that he stayed the night.”
“Mm-hm. You guys were probably so tired you didn’t do anything before sleeping.”
The sarcasm was leaking from their voices, practically dripping on the floor. You didn’t know how to answer their cryptic responses, covering your smile with a hand. You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped your lips. Despite Aaron’s harsh rejection not even twelve hours ago, you were feeling better.
Thankfully, you were saved from coming up with a reply when Penelope came in the room with a case file in her hands, gesturing towards the briefing room. Unfortunately, JJ and Emily’s amusement was so obvious, Penelope was able to pick up on the brewing gossip from just the look on their smug faces.
You passed her on the way up the stairs, giving her a small smile as she stayed back to get the information from JJ and Emily. You rolled your eyes when you heard the technical analysis gasp, walking to the briefing room faster.
While you temporarily escaped Penelope’s wave of questions upon entering the briefing room, you were met with the presence of the man your bones–and pussy–ached for. You avoided looking in his general direction as you sat next to Derek.
He turned to you as the girls entered the room, smiling. “Damn Mama, you look tired. What’d you do last night?”
And as if on cue, Spencer sat down in the empty chair on the other side of you, causing Emily to burst out laughing. The guys turned to look at her, confused by her reaction to Spencer’s timed action. She waved away their confusion, hiding behind her iPad, pretending to study the case all the while her shoulders shook from silent laughter.
Penelope had her eyes set on you and Spencer, giving you a look that read she wanted all the details directly from you. Saving you from having to explain Emily’s reaction, Penelope started the briefing, pulling everyone’s attention from you and Spencer to the serial killer running around Los Angeles.
It was easy to ignore Aaron’s stares through the briefing, too focused on the case details to give him attention but that couldn’t be said on the plane, especially when he walked up behind you on the steps. Your eyes met his and it felt like your nerves told your brain it was a fight or flight situation, causing you to internally panic.
You more or so sprinted up steps and into the plane, inadvertently sitting down next to the man half your coworkers suspected you were hooking up with. While it wasn’t unusual for you to sit next to anyone on the team, your normal spot had been right beside Aaron, the window seat while he took up the aisle seat. So accidentally sitting next to Spencer had caused Emily and JJ to share a glance with each other.
After Aaron had given the team details on what they were supposed to do–thankfully he had partnered you up with Rossi instead of himself–your phone buzzed relentlessly as Penelope texted you asking for details about your new paramour. Said paramour was peeking over your shoulder to read the numerous Penelope had sent.
After a second of them being left unanswered, she called you, her name popping up on your phone. You playfully glared at Emily and JJ before getting up and answering the call.
“Yes, baby girl?” you cooed, pushing the curtains aside to get a cup of coffee. “What can I help you with?”
“You and Reid?!” her voice was so loud you flinched as it hit your eardrum. “I thought you liked Hotch!”
“I don’t like either of them.” you sighed, heart pounding at the lie. Even just hearing his name had caused your body to tense, and you were sure there was a patch of wetness on your underwear. “And Spence and I are just friends.”
“JJ told me you guys spent the night together,” she replied, and you could practically hear her brain cogs working overtime. “As in doing intimate, not-suitable-for-work stuff.”
“No funny business, I swear,” you mutter, hissing when you spill coffee on yourself.
“Please don’t lie to me,” begged Penelope. “You can tell me anything, you know that. And you don’t have to be ashamed that you like Spencer, he’s cute in a nerdy way! You guys would make a great couple–”
Spencer pushed through the curtains, and it was as if Penelope sensed him through the phone because she went silent. Boy genius reached over you to grab a plastic cup from the counter, pouring his own coffee.
“Is that Garcia?” he asked, motioning to the phone. You nodded, smiling at the nearly inaudible hitch of Penelope’s breath. He chuckled, moving a tad closer to the speaker. “Hi, Garcia.”
Before she could reply, you intervened. “Bye Pen.”
You hung up, sighing. Taking a sip of coffee, you leaned against the small counter. “Not gonna lie, I didn’t think our plan would progress so fast. Do you think it makes it look less believable?”
“I don’t think so. If anything, it just made it more so,” said Spencer, mirroring your actions. “It’s very realistic friends would hook up when the situation pushes them to like working late nights, watching movies, or going to chess tournaments together.”
Giving him a blank look, you slurped your coffee rather loudly.
He cleared his throat, feeling awkward. “Anyways, the only thing people may not believe is that I was able to … get you.”
“That’s insane. Why don’t you think you could pull me?”
Spencer blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just that I’m me and you’re … you. It’s kind of obvious you’re out of my league. I mean you’re very pretty and you could get any guy and honestly, I find it hard to believe Hotch would turn you down–”
You grinned, interrupting his rambling. “Aww, Spence, you’re so sweet. But you underestimate yourself. You’re very cute and if I wasn’t attracted to men twenty years older than me, then I would’ve gone for you.”
“Have you ever wondered if your attraction to much older men is caused by your daddy issues?” he blurted.
The plane lurched to the side, bringing Spencer to pin you against the counter, a hand placed on the counter to keep himself from falling right into you as the plane stabilized. Fortunately, Spencer’s coffee had spilled on the floor instead of either of you. Unfortunately (or fortunately), Aaron had chosen that moment to walk into your little space.
You and Spencer freeze in place as your boss–and the object of your desires–catches you in a position that would’ve had Penelope screaming from excitement. Spencer's free hand was on the counter, trapping you in between. His torso touched yours, your breast pressing up against his chest and your right hand was on his shoulder to stop him from crushing you during the turbulence.
Aaron’s eyes narrowed at the contact and the lack of space between you and Spencer. Both of you immediately sprung into action, Spencer taking a step back while you slid to your left, trying to put more space between you both.
While you were internally celebrating Aaron’s almost-jealous expression, you were more embarrassed at what he must be thinking. You didn’t plan to be so outward with Spencer, after all, you both agreed on only subtle touches, not pressed up against each other in a public space.
“Are you two alright?” Aaron questioned, eyes darting between you and Spencer.
You didn’t want to be delusional and lie to yourself but the vein on Aaron’s neck was bulging, a thing that only happened when he felt stressed or angry. You must’ve smiled subconsciously because he stared at you, brows furrowed.
“Yeah, the turbulence just caught us by surprise,” you reply, motioning to the coffee-stained floor. You stepped around him, shoulder brushing up against his arm. The curtains parted and you backed out. “I’m gonna head back.”
You don’t miss the way his eyes linger as you walk back.
By the time you head back to the hotel, you’re grumpy and sticky from sweat. Throughout the day, everyone has heard you moan and groan about the heat. By now, the team has figured out you’d rather freeze to death than heat.
The AC at the police station could only do so much when the temperature outside was over one hundred degrees. Rossi fanning you while you checked out the crime scene hadn’t helped and when you got back to the station, you begged Aaron to let you stay inside, breaking that awkward tension between the both of you through your hatred of heat.
Not that the tension hadn’t grown whenever Spencer and you were in the same room. Aaron would send him out to look at the body or interview close friends but as soon as he came back to the station, Aaron would find some excuse to send him back out, not giving you two the opportunity to work the plan. Not that you cared that much, you were too busy melting.
When everyone got to the hotel, Aaron held out four keys, and the team groaned. You’d have to share.
JJ snatched a key from Aaron’s hand. “Me and Em will share.”
“I’m not sharing a room with Reid, again,” Derek announced, crossing his arms. A confused Spencer tilted his head at him, a little hurt at the comment.
JJ smiled, handing Spencer a key. “Spencer can share with his friend.”
You glared at JJ, and she threw you another smug smile. Emily snorted, faking a cough when Rossi turned to look at her. Turning to Spencer, you nodded. “Yeah, we can share.”
“Actually,” objected Aaron, eyes never leaving you. “It’s Reid’s turn to have a room to himself.”
Derek looked at him, confused. “No, it isn’t. He had a room to himself in Alaska, it’s my turn actually–”
“Morgan, you can share with Rossi,” Aaron said with finality, giving him a key. He looked at you once again. “I’ll share a room with you.”
You knew the plan had worked but you were too exhausted and sticky to be happy about it. Not that you hadn’t wanted to share a room with him again, but all you could think about was taking a cold shower and hopefully freezing your entire body to the point where you stay cold all throughout the case.
The team dispersed. Aaron and your room was on the third floor while the rest stayed on the first. He carried your duffel bag, and you didn’t bother fighting him like you usually had. The elevator ride up was awkward and you wished he could make up his mind on whether he wanted you or not.
As soon as he unlocked the door, you rushed into the bathroom and turned on the shower, setting the temperature to cold. You snatched your bag from his shoulder and ran back to the bathroom, peeling off your work clothes. A moan slips out as the cold water hits your skin, and for the entirety of the shower, you forget about the man behind the door.
Exiting the shower, you notice you haven't shut the bathroom door completely. The tiny crack allowed you to see Aaron sitting at the table, staring at the file in front of him. If you could see him, he could probably see you.
This is fucking crazy.
Maybe it was a breeze from the vent or maybe you mastered some form of telekinesis but the door cracked open further, about four inches wide now. You don’t make a move to close it.
Heart pounding, you dry yourself, turning away from the door as you bend over to dry your legs. The vent was the only noise you hear as you do so. You’re about to cave and shut the door but you feel eyes on you as you stand up straight.
You don’t turn around. Confidence grows as you take your time drying your hair with the towel, sometimes running a hand through it to separate the wet and semi-dry strands. The reality of the situation finally dawns on you when you squeeze the remaining water out of your hair.
Growing wet at the thought of Aaron watching you, nakedly drying yourself, you can’t help but give him a small peek at what he was missing. You turn around, enough so he could see a glimpse of your pussy. No, you don’t look in his direction, but you can see him staring from your peripherals.
The door had cracked open further since you last saw it. There was no doubt he saw every inch of your backside as you hadn’t wrapped the towel around you once.
You let your hands squeeze your breasts once before bending down to grab a t-shirt from your go bag. It’s oversize, the hem falling just below your ass. Putting a pair of red panties on, you remember how much Aaron likes the color.
Once you’re done, you zipped up your bag and looked in the mirror. It’s obvious how free your breasts are under the shirt, your nipples peeking from the thin material. Reading the words on the shirt, you realize it was one of Spencer’s. You remember stealing it from his duffel after swimming into the lake to save an unsub.
Your lips twitched into a smirk. Opening the door, you were met with Aaron’s unrelenting stare, eyes drifting up and down your body. Not giving him the satisfaction, you ignore him, dropping your bag on your bed.
Wait.
Looking around the room, you notice just one bed.
Shit.
In your distracted haze about the one-bed problem, you failed to notice Aaron moving. A hand gripped your waist tightly, pulling you back towards a hard chest. You freeze, glancing behind you to see a heated Aaron. His lips graze your ear.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, sweetheart?”
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herozdiary · 2 months
Text
Milk and cookies
Francis x reader
This diary entry contains…Mentions of baking|Baker reader|Francis being a cutie pie|established relationship|Short little idea i had sitting in the back of my mind|Francis being good at baking|Mlikman x baker is such a cute trope idea lowkey|i should make longer writings
A/N:WOWOWO THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE ON THE FIRST FRANCIS WRITING🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾
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“Milk…butter…sugar..blah blah blah” Francis had muttered to himself as he went over the recipe list. He wanted to make cookies too take his mind off of things going on.
The both of you were like the baker and the milkman duo. People loved seeing you too together because of how cute you are. It was a fresh breathe of air to see a happy couple in these times. With dopplegangers roaming around the area.
You became familiar with the new door guard. They always greeted you with a smile as they went over your paperwork before allowing you in. " You know, It's something about you that just tells me it's the real you. " The doorman said before shrugging. You smiled at them before venturing up to your shared apartment with francis.
Today you didn't do much at the bakery. you only sold a couple of things you made earlier that week but it was a slow day. You pulled out your keys as just pushed them into the keyhole. pushing the door open and closing it after walking in, The smell of fresh baked cookies hit your nose. You smiled as you slipped off your shoes.
you poked your head into the kitchen to find francis looking over a baking tray with cookies spread out across them. He seemed to be whispering something to himself as he poked at one before hissing slightly.
" This is why we let things cool off before we touch them!" You said as you rushed over. Francis turned away slightly as you took his hand into yours before looking over it. "Well it seems nothing bad happened" You say while blowing on it and kissing his finger.
" I wanted to try and make something to take my mind off of things going on now." He said while looking at the tray. "Maybe you should leave that to me." You say while looking over the cookies before smiling and nodding. "But you did a good job! Did you buy the dough at the store or something?" You asked.
"Nope. Made them by scratch. I saw you had some recipes laying around so i followed them" He admitted. You smiled as you placed a small kiss on his cheek.
"Im proud of you! You did it the exact way i do" You say as you grab one. You take a bite before smiling some more. "Taste the same way." You say as you finish it off. Francis smiled as he felt proud from the praise.
"Thanks...But i think you always make them better" Francis said while leaning on the counter. "I think they taste the same. But you know...i thought you would bring some milk out that we can dunk the cookies in."You say as you open the fridge to a bottle of milk.
"I forget that milk and cookies go together"Francis muttered as he watched you pour two glasses of milk.You grabbed a plate and began to plate the cookies before placing them onto the kitchen counter.
"When you think about it, we go together like milk and cookies" You joked as you dip a cookie into your cup of milk. Francis rolled his eyes before chuckling at your joke. "Because of our jobs?" He asked as he picked up one of the cookies and took a small nibble out of it.
the rest of the afternoon was filled with the both of you finishing off the plate and having a milk drinking contest. Of course Francis won since he spent most of his days drinking cold bottles of milk.
But at the end of the day, The two of you went together like milk and cookies.
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fushigur0ll · 1 year
Text
IN SICKNESS & IN HEALTH
꒰ ♡ ꒱ you’re sick! so earth42!miles takes care of you at..3AM
includes; kisses, fluff, sick talk, sweetness and etc
sequel ~ 24/7 surveillance
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“babe..miles! baby!” you try, emphasis on ‘try’ to wake your boyfriend up but knowing the type of deep sleeper he is, you know he wasn’t bound to wake up this easy and your body was getting weaker and weaker as every minute passes by.
every night, miles swings to your house unless he’s already there and sleeps over for the night, cuddling you until you both fall asleep comfortably and once miles is comfortable then there’s no waking him up till he wakes up himself. you always enjoy it when miles comes over to sleep with you because that’s when you sleep 10x better and you just wish you could enjoy it like how you did the night before and any other night but sadly you’re sick and when i say sick i mean as, sore throat, stuffy nose, headaches, weak body, sore eyes- that death feeling sick and it’s horrendous. you even feel so gross even when you took a shower literally before you laid yourself on that bad of yours. you groan softly when a feeling like someone is knocking your brain down with a hammer passes by, your migraines getting stronger every time they come as well.
you sigh and look at your sleeping boyfriend again, poking his nose but the only response you get from his was snores and that made you let out a drawn out groan. you open your eyes, immediately feeling the pain from looking around the semi dark room, eyes landing on the red numbers you see on the nightstand of your clock reading ’3:00AM’ you blow raspberries and look around again before you stop at the door of the bathroom.
this was gonna be hard..you want to freshen yourself up again so you’d be comfortable once more but you can barley feel your legs and arms. you definitely felt like you’ve been drugged but you remember this isn’t the first time it’s happened. you exhale and try getting sitting up but you end up rolling and rolling till you literally hit the floor with a loud thump. “oh sh- owwwwww” you whine, squirming on the cold floor boards overwhelming your bipolar tempered body. you try getting up but at that point you give up and lay in a starfish position on the ground, just staring at the ceiling fan.
“….baby where are you” you hear a deep and tired voice , one you love and know too well so you sigh.
“on the floor” you croak, cringing at the sound of your voice. it was silent before you hear the bed ruffle and rustle, miles head popping up from the bed and looking down at you with low lidded eyes.
“you good ma?” he asks, raising an eyebrow and you shake your head slowly. “i’m sick” you frown and close your eyes.
he stares at you and takes an arm out, using his hand to feel your neck, head and armpit. his eyes widen a tiny bit when he does feel the heat literally emitting from your body. he takes his hand back and stretches, before coming off the bed and leaning down to pick you up princess style.
“ou- miles be careful my head” you whine, holding your head in your hands,
“ ‘m sorry mami” he mumbles and kisses your warm temple, walking towards the bathroom and turning on the light. you immediately close your eyes, the light irritating your eyes further. he murmured another apology and kisses your cheek this time. he sits you on the sink counter and you open your eyes slowly, getting used to the light and you look at your boyfriend. he gets a clean face cloth, drowning it in warm water from the sink and drains it so it’s warm and damp. he walks back to you, and steps in-between your legs to wipe your face softly and you just sit there allowing him too.
the warmth from the damp rag felt nice on your face. you ask him to wipe your arms, legs and chest and he complied, doing so with feather light touches. he finishes and throws the rag in the hamper, turning back to you and cupping your face.
“you hungry?” he inquires, looking into your eyes and you nod. he hums in response and picks you up again. he moves you both out the bathroom not without closing the lights off then downstairs to your kitchen where he turns the lights on in there. your eyes is used to the light by now but that doesn’t mean your eyes doesn’t hurt from looking around.
“i already feel myself getting sick” he jokes, earning a soft and playful glare from you. “at least i didn’t sneeze on you” he chuckles, his chest rumbling slightly.
“at least you didn’t..not yet i mean” he glances at you as he sits you on the counter again. “i’m sick and you gonna bully me right now?” you raise a lazy eyebrow making him cross his toned arms staring back at you with the same expression.
“of course” he smiles and you rolls your eyes. “what do you wanna eat?” he moves towards the refrigerator and you hum, thinking about what you’re really craving for.
“anything, what’s in there?” you ask, light swinging your weak legs back and forth
“..cheese, leftovers, cake- you’re not eating cake” he knows you too damn well. literally when you’re sick you’ll get anything else other then something that’s like soup or actual food and will go for the sweets instead. your eyes sparkle at the mention of cake but you huff and frown when he told your ass no. he snickers and continues to look in the fridge.
“i’ll make you some soup and yes it can be chicken noodle soup” he closes the fridge but not before getting a cup of water and sees you with a bright smile on your face that makes him feel warm inside.
“thank you~” you singsong, giving him kissy lips and noises.
“anything for you baby”
it wasn’t that long before the soup was made and done. steam rising from the bowl that the soup has been poured into. he gets a spoon and goes back inbetween your legs. he gets the soup onto the spoon, blows on it a few times before putting it close to your already open mouth.
“it’s a bit hot okay?” he mumbles and you nod, encasing the spoon and soup into your mouth. your stomach rumbles happily in response, loving the taste of the soup, noodle and chicken broth. you hum and sway side to side in happiness. he watches you, snorting and shaking his head.
“cute” he leans into peck your lips and you smile softly.
“feed me peasant” you demand and his face drops so fast making you burst into laughter, falling back slightly and all he does is just stares at you blinking.
“you’re so lucky you’re sick right now because i could tickle you right now and never let you up” he stoically responds, his eyes tracking your every move. “hehe the way your face dropped” you giggle and sit up properly, leaning forwards to peck all over his face making the corner of his lips move up.
“i’m sorry pookie butt” his face drops again and you howl in laughter again but this time you start uncontrollably coughing, holding onto your chest. this time it was him laughing at you while you glare at him as you fight for your life trying to catch your breath back.
“not too much on me now milestone- don’t even try” he cuts you off, mean mugging whilst you, again, start wheezing and coughing. “look at you loosing your life, sit up baby” he chuckles and gives you the cup of water which you generously take sips from.
you both enjoy the small moment, laughing, talking as he feeds you soup till the bowl was empty. you burp and excuse yourself, feeling your body get better and less weaker. you tell him and even so he pick you up like a princess and picks up the cup of water then walks out the kitchen then turning the light off on his way out.
“going back to bed now?” you ask quietly, watching his side profile and he nods, looking towards you and staring at you.
“my own stalker huh?” he jokes and smirks when he sees you kiss your teeth. “you needa stop playing with me boy” you playfully push his head away and he chuckles, making his way back in the bedroom and placing you on the bed then placing the cup of water on the nightstand.
“how you feel?” he asks, looking down at you. you stare back and smile brightly. “i feel slightly good as new thanks to you” you widen your arms and he climbs into bed, laying down and pulling you ontop of him. you get yourself comfortable, laying your head on his chest as listen to the beating of his heart. he wraps one arm on you and one hand to your thigh, holding you securely. it was quiet and peaceful, his hand rubbing up and down the soft skin of your thigh, looking up at the ceiling as he feels your hand move towards his cheek.
“hm?” he looks at you, leaning into your hand as you look at him admiringly.
“thank you for taking care of me” you whispers and rub his cheek. he smiles softly and leans in to kiss your nose and forehead.
“anything for my girl”
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fushigur0ll © 2022 all rights reserved. do not plagarize, translate, or post to other sites please.
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gurugirl · 5 months
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3. The Unicorn | nanny!yn
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Unicorn: An individual who is willing to join an existing romantic relationship. Usually a bisexual female.
Summary: The aftermath of that fateful night has lots of consequences. Not all of them are bad.
A/N: This is the final part! Based on this and this.
Word Count: 11.7k
Warning: 18+ only, smut, angst, mentions of divorce
The Unicorn Masterlist
You had to admit. The ensuite bathroom was really nice. But you couldn’t imagine enjoying the soaker tub with jets and soft fluffy towels as you stared at yourself in the mirror. You took off your little pearl choker as tears continued to fall down your cheeks and you removed your sweater and skirt. It all felt so pointless. You had wasted so much time fretting over your outfit and matching it to your pearl choker and your pretty panties all for everything to just blow up completely. Now your favorite pink pearl choker was tainted and you’d probably never want to wear it again.
You should have said no to the proposition. You knew you should have listened to your gut. It was going to blow up and someone was going to get hurt.
Your night shorts and matching top were soft on your skin but you hated it because you’d also chosen this set with the thought that both Kit and Harry might see it. But you’d be sure they never did.
Setting your alarm for 5:00 am you climbed into the luxurious bed and rolled to your side hoping you could get some sleep so you could turn your brain off as you replayed every moment in your head over and over again.
.           .           .          
“I don’t want to talk about it right now, Harry,” Kit insisted.
“She can’t hear us in here, love. Come on. Let’s work something out. Things didn’t go like we thought… right? We don’t need to do it again.”
“I just… I need some space, H. That was a lot. I guess I didn’t expect it to feel that way. I can’t talk about it right now, though. I need to sleep on it. Away from you. I know I’ll feel better in the morning.”
Harry nodded and grabbed his wife’s hand, “I love you, Kitty. You know that right? I love you so much. You are the most important person to me in the world.”
Kit attempted a weak smile as she pulled her hand away and tucked herself into the blankets, “Can you turn the light off when you leave the room?”
.           .           .
Harry had been unable to sleep at all. The couch wasn’t a great spot to sleep but more than that, he was feeling guilty and trying to figure out how to fix the problem. He didn’t want you to feel bad, you hadn’t done anything wrong. But he did need to support his wife first and foremost. He’d need to insist she apologize and put it behind her but he didn’t want his wife to feel like he was taking your side either. Even though, in a way, he kind of was. You were the innocent party in all this. He’d gotten carried away. You both just clicked. The chemistry between you was impenetrable. So much so that he nearly forgot about his wife being there and said some things he didn’t really mean.
When he heard light footfalls coming down the stairs and then saw the outline of your frame as you rushed toward the door he shot up from the couch and hurried toward you, “Y/n?”
You closed your eyes and stopped in your tracks. You hoped he was asleep and that you could leave without him knowing.
He put his hands on your shoulders as he stood behind you and spoke quietly, “Are you okay to drive?” He knew he wasn’t going to be able to talk you into staying. Though in his mind, the best-case scenario was that the three of you could sit and talk and move on from the disaster of what had happened the night before. Maybe over coffee and waffles. He knew that was unlikely but he had hoped.
“I’m fine now. I just want to get out of here. I feel awful,” you turned yourself to look up at him in the dark.
“You don’t need to feel bad, honey. You didn’t do anything wrong. I need you to understand that.”
“I just need to go. You’ve been so nice to me. Thank you, Harry. For everything. Tell Kit how awful I feel and that I’m so sorry and never meant to hurt her.”
Harry frowned, “Don’t worry. Kit will feel better when she wakes up. I’ll talk to her. But you don’t owe anyone an apology.”
He put his arms around you and held you against his chest in a sweet hug. You could feel the thud of his heart under his pecs and inhaled his scent. You’d miss him. You’d miss Kit too. You’d especially miss William and Warner.
.           .           .
When you didn’t show up on Monday morning at the Styles’ house both Kit and Harry knew what was going on.
Kit had planned on apologizing to you for her behavior in person. She’d even planned to go to work a bit late that morning so all three of you could try and work it out. She was still feeling a bit betrayed by Harry and having a hard time unseeing and hearing what she had, but she knew her conduct had been out of line. She was acting on pure emotion and the wine exasperated her reaction. But that was no excuse.
“I can work from home today,” Harry said.
Kit shook her head, “I feel awful. I hurt her feelings. I was such a bitch to her and she didn’t deserve it. Maybe I should text her. Or go to her apartment and apologize to her face-to-face? What do you think? The least I can do is apologize for how I treated her.”
Harry pursed his lips, “Let me text her. See if she’ll come over later when you get home. I’ll tell her we’d like to talk and that you want to apologize.”
Sighing, Kit closed her eyes, “Don’t text her. I will. This is something I need to fix.”
He decided he’d let his wife figure out how she needed to approach the issue but he was worried it was too late. He was worried he’d never see you again and that would be it. You were totally justified in ghosting them both. Plus the semester would be starting up again for you in a couple of weeks and the boys would be back in school during the day so it felt futile to beg for you to come back.
And that’s exactly what you thought too. You were about to head into the new fall semester to start on your master’s degree and the boys were going back to school. You had hoped you’d still be able to watch the twins when Harry and Kit wanted a weekend away or a night off for a few extra bucks during the school year but there was absolutely no way you’d be able to face either Kit or Harry again.
You were sure Kit hated you with every fiber of her being. Which kind of made you angry the more you sat with what had happened. As sad as you were and as bad as you felt, you knew Harry was right. Nothing that happened was actually your fault.
Distracting yourself from what had happened Saturday night had been difficult because it was all so fresh. You knew with some time you’d get over it and move on but you were sure there would be some damage there. Netflix, long walks, lots of sleep, and pints of ice cream seemed to help a little.
But still, the moment that you couldn’t erase from your memory was when you were on their bed as Harry had just finished himself on your back and Kit yelled at him to make you leave all while you were still naked and floaty. Humiliating. But more than that, you started to realize, that what Kit did was uncalled for and mean. She had been mean to you and that made you angry.
So you were surprised when you saw a text from her on Monday afternoon. With an apology.
I hope you’re doing okay. I just wanted to reach out and tell you how sorry I am for how I acted Saturday night. I had hoped to talk to you this morning about it so I could do this in person, and I would still like to apologize to you in person if you’d let me. I understand if you’re not comfortable with it but if you are, I’ll be at Davanti’s on Fresno Street at 3:30 pm. I’ll be alone and plan to stay for an hour.
It was 2 pm. You needed to decide if you wanted to hear her out or just move on. Could you look at her again? Would you simply break down and cry the moment you saw her? Maybe it would be better if you requested Harry to be there? Or perhaps you should just ignore her and be done with it.
But you figured opting for closure would be better in the end. For you and probably for Kit as well.
I’ll be there.
You found a spot to park on the street a few blocks away so you could get some fresh air and stretch your legs before going inside. And also just in case you suddenly decided you didn’t want to go through with it, you could turn around and leave without having Kit seeing you.
But you didn’t change your mind and when you walked into the restaurant you saw Kit sitting at a booth looking down at her phone with a glass of wine in front of her.
You slid in across from her and she startled slightly before placing her phone face down, “Y/n! You came. Thank you.” She smiled. She looked hopeful and sweet.
Nodding you smiled back, “Of course.”
Kit looked at your hands and then out into the restaurant before back to you, “Would you like anything to drink or eat? It’s on me if you want–“
“No. That’s fine. I’ll just have a water when the server comes by. Not really hungry.”
She sat for a moment and blinked her eyes as she looked at you softly, “I am so sorry, Y/n. I know me just saying that can’t erase what I did. I wasn’t prepared to see him like that with anyone and I took it out on you. I’ll never forgive myself for the way I acted.”
You nodded and looked down at the table. You figured she would eventually forgive herself. Because that’s why she was there wanting to apologize to you in person. She wanted to feel better about what had happened and this was her way of doing that. So, while she would forgive herself eventually, despite saying she wouldn’t, you would never forget what happened to you that night. How she treated you, demeaned you. How it made you feel disgusted with yourself and Harry and her all at once. The horror you felt when the worst possible outcome happened.
“Can you ever forgive me?” She finally said which made you look up at her.
“I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. I’m not really sure how I even feel right now about it. I still need time to negotiate all of this in my head first.”
Kit spread her fingers out on the table and looked down at her hand, “I understand that. I don’t deserve to be forgiven,” she sighed and looked back at you, “I wanted to try something new with Harry. I’ve been so… just trying to figure out how to make myself feel that thing I used to feel for him, ya know?” She laughed and shook her head, “He’s just so… male. I mean he’s sweet and gentle and attractive but in bed, he wants something I can’t give him, and vice versa. And now that the twins are older we get more privacy and can get back into being a little more explorative, and it’s made me really miss how things were when I was single and dating women. I know that sounds awful,” she bit the inside of her cheek, “But I’ve just been reaching for something that I’m never going to be able to have with Harry alone. But turns out,” she laughed, “funnily enough, that I don’t like him with anyone else or feeling that passion with someone else that I wanted to feel. I wanted to feel that with you. But that’s selfish of me. I’m all messed up right now,” she stitched her brows together and you could see how glassy her eyes were, “I’m sorry to dump that on you. That’s not fair to you.”
You nodded. You didn’t know what to say in response. She shouldn’t have told you any of that. That was true. And now you just felt bad for Harry that his wife was seeking something to fill in where she thought he lacked. But all you could think was that he was everything anyone would ever want and yet Kit didn’t even see that somehow.
“I wanted to also give you this. From the boys.” She handed you a small homemade booklet with drawings on it from both William and Warren. You flipped through the pages of marker and pen, drawings and stories written to go with each drawing.
You looked up at Kit with appreciation, “Thank you for this. Tell them I love it. I’ll read it every day.” You hadn’t wanted to cry. Hadn’t wanted to show Kit how sensitive and soft you were. She’d already watched you cry that night and now here you were with tears in your eyes again that you simply could not hold back.
“If you ever want to stop by and say hi to them you could. Or even just send me or Harry a text to tell them hi. They love you so much, Y/n. You’re so good with them. And I wanted to…” she paused as she looked at you with a sudden weight that hadn’t been there just before, “If anything ever, um…” she wavered her gaze from your face to the area behind your head and back, “Never mind. Just know how much both Harry and I trust you and would love for you to still come around to see them if you ever wanted.”
.           .           .
When you returned to university things started to feel better. You still got caught with feelings of dread and were reminded of the way you felt that night. Of course, Kit had apologized and that was really all you could ask for after it had all been said and done. But it didn’t stop you from zoning out in the shower with thoughts of putting your pink pearl choker on before you went to their home that night. The giddiness you felt beforehand that was torn away from you so viciously only hours later. Now you couldn’t even look at the necklace. It was tucked away in its soft velvet bag in your panties drawer.
And you couldn’t stop thinking of Harry either. You missed him a lot too. But that feeling was mixed with a confusing heartsickness. It wasn’t that you were in love with him or anything. But you had crushed on him for a while and got to experience him in bed and that was. You couldn’t describe it because you tried not to think about it too much. The more you dwelled on the way he handled you and looked at you, the way he spoke to you… it gave you shivers and the unfortunate thing was that you’d never have the pleasure to know that again.
But again, you weren’t in love or anything close to it. It was just a sense of loss more than anything. 
After your first month back at school was down you were invited out to a local bar with some of your classmates and friends. Something fun for everyone to let loose a little. And god did you deserve to blow off a little steam.
You would have preferred a club with some awful dancing and too much liquor, to be honest, but darts in a dark bar with pitchers of beer and friends sounded quite nice too.
Jax bought the first pitcher as the rest of you claimed a nice table close to the dart boards at the back of the bar. It was a Friday night so the place got packed not long after you’d arrived.
You lost badly at the first game which meant the next pitcher of beer was on you. You frowned exaggeratedly at the rule that the loser buys the beer, but the truth was that you were feeling amazing. It was nice to not be sitting at home thinking about things that you shouldn’t be. The distraction was welcome. Being out with friends was refreshing.
Waving at the bartender you placed the empty pitcher down and dug into your front pocket for some cash to pay your turn. But a sudden feeling came over you. Like you were being watched. Or noticed at least. You casually looked to your right and then to your left but you saw no one looking at you. And no one looked familiar.
“Another pitcher of beer?” The bartender asked, bringing your attention back to him.
“Oh! Yes, please.”
With that strange feeling crawling its way up your spine you turned slowly and looked back at your friends and then across the bar to the table next to the window.
You jolted and felt your scalp prick and fingertips sizzle when you made eye contact with him. Harry. He was seated at a high-top table. He appeared to be alone.
He lifted a hand in greeting before bringing it back down to grasp his pint and looked out the window.
You hadn’t even become unfrozen from the shock of seeing him by the time the bartender was back with your pitcher. You settled up with him and looked to where Harry was seated. He didn’t look back at you. You wondered how long he’d been there. Had he seen you before you walked up to the bar?
“Hey, here’s the pitcher,” you placed it at the center of the table. “I’m gonna sit this game out. Someone I know is here and I’m gonna go say hi.”
After refilling your glass you hesitantly made your way to Harry. The least you could do was say hi. You had wondered about him all this time and had been tempted to text him a time or two but never felt it was right.
“Hi.” You stood next to his table, at a safe distance in case he wasn’t interested in talking.
He pulled his gaze away from whatever he was looking at outside to you, “Hi, Y/n.”
“I was, uh, surprised to see you. I don’t want to bother you. I just–“
“Sit if you want,” he gestured at the other stool. So obviously you did, placing your glass on the table and keeping your eyes on him.
Harry took a sip of his beer and his eyes were as deep and full of warmth as ever.
“How have you been?” You asked. You didn’t really know what to say to him. Which was silly when you thought about it.
“Things are complicated at home. But I’m okay. How are you?”
You shrugged as you took a drink from your glass, “Good. School’s been good. Here for a night without worrying about homework and quizzes. Just needed a night out with some friends.”
He nodded and leaned forward, resting his forearms onto the lacquered wooden tabletop, caging in his beer, “I’ve wanted to text you to see how you were doing but figured you wouldn’t want to hear from me again after what happened.”
You pinched your brows together and shook your head, “That’s not… I wish you would have. I wanted to text you a few times too. Just to check-in. I’ve missed you guys.”
“The boys really miss you. They talk about you still. I mean…” he rotated his arm so his palm was face up in a passive gesture, “it hasn’t been that long since– well, anyway.”
You smiled, “I miss them a lot. Hey, did Warner ever finish learning that song on the piano you were teaching him? He was doing so well learning the parts. I kind of hoped to hear him complete it but then…” you didn’t dare finish that sentence.
Harry grinned. It was the first genuine smile you’d seen from him since you approached him.
“Yeah. He’s pretty much got it down now. I’m really proud of him. He’s gonna be starting guitar and singing lessons soon. He wants to learn so he can start a band with some friends so I encouraged him to take lessons.”
“Takes after his father. Musically talented.” You gleamed at Harry.
Harry gulped the lump down his throat. He had really missed you around. But he’d been quite caught up in the aftermath of that night with Kit ever since. That night had changed everything.
“Ahh, I just dabble. Warner has real natural talent.”
You couldn’t be sure but you thought the apples of his cheeks were turning a shade pinker than they had been.
“I’ve heard you play the piano and sing. I’d say you have plenty of natural talent, Harry.”
You meant it too. He had a beautiful voice full of dark timbre and vibrant airy notes. And of course, he was so confident when he sang that if he had told you he made an album and played for audiences in sold-out venues you would have believed it.
“That’s nice to hear. Thank you, Y/n,” you watched a dimple slowly work its way deeper into his cheek as his smile widened. It was nice to see him smile.
You both sat quietly for a bit looking out the window at the dark street as cars drove by,  headlamps beaming over the dark asphalt. You wondered if you should press him more about how he really was. You could tell something was off. He wasn’t as happy as he normally was. And when he told you things were complicated at home you figured it had something to do with Kit.
“We’re getting divorced,” he said defeatedly as he stared out the window.
“What? Why?”
Harry took a deep breath and looked at you, “She wants more than I can give her. She needs to be with women, she said. And…” he gulped and looked back out the window, “… she said she couldn’t ever look at me the same after that night. Said I’d never be able to have that with her.”
You kept your brows pinched together as you listened to him. It broke your heart that things had fallen apart for them. That it had all been too much.
“But I thought you two were happy. There was never any indication before that something was wrong.”
He nodded, “I thought so too. But she couldn’t get passed it and she said she’d been thinking about it for a long time. Before we even thought of having you join,” he glanced at you before looking down at his glass, “She’s been needing something else for a while. I never knew. I thought it was enough. I knew she missed women and that kind of softness in bed but I had no idea that it affected her so much. To me, her confession was sudden. But supposedly she’s been keeping it in for a long time.”
Without even thinking you reached out and grabbed his hand, “I’m so sorry, Harry.”
Harry looked down at your small hand covering his and up to your eyes, “She said that when she apologized to you she felt free to finally be herself. I was blindsided. Then last week she told me she was going to go on a date with a woman she’s known for years. Ripped me right half. She was gone all night. But I mean, our marriage is over anyway.”
You gently smoothed your thumb over his knuckles and kept your eyes on his face.
“So I offered her a divorce and told her I can’t tolerate her dating someone if I’m not involved somehow. She understood that. She told me she hoped I would find someone,” he paused as he sighed to collect his words so they didn’t come out as a surprise to you, “…with whom I could have the kind of chemistry she saw that night between us.”
You didn’t know how to respond. Or if you should. You were well aware of the way you and Harry connected and how natural everything felt with him. But at the same time, you never thought it was much more than just good chemistry. You couldn’t allow yourself to think of it as more than that.
“Anyway, she’s at home with the boys and I needed to get out and breathe. Figured I’d have a beer or two and then go back home. Sleep in the guest room like I have been. We’re still trying to figure out how to tell the kids.”
You nodded softly, “That’s awful, Harry. I don’t know what to say except I’m so sorry.”
Harry breathed out a laugh through his nostrils and shook his head, “You don’t need to pity me. I’m sad but I’ll be okay. It’s better anyway, I think in the end. She wasn’t fulfilled and part of me knows I wasn’t either. We could have made it work but I don’t think she’d have been happy for much longer. It was only a matter of time I suppose.”
“Y/n! Next game’s about to start. You wanna join?” Arla suddenly interrupted.
You turned to look at her and back to Harry, “This is Harry, and Harry, this is my friend Arla. She and I have two classes together.”
Harry smiled at your friend and looked at you, “I’m just about to finish up. You go and enjoy your night off with your friends.”
You didn’t want to part ways with Harry yet. It felt like you needed to sit with him longer. So you turned to Arla, “I’m gonna pass. But you guys go ahead!”
“Are you sure?” She looked from you to Harry and back to you again.
“Yeah. I’m sure.”
When she walked off Harry grabbed your hand, “You don’t have to pity me I said. I’m okay, really. I know this has to be boring for you to sit here listening to me whine about my life. You should go.”
Shaking your head you frowned, “I didn’t want to go, Harry. Thought maybe if you’re leaving anyway I could walk you out. Hug you goodbye. I don’t know when I’ll ever see you again. Or if I see you again…”
Harry tilted his head and nodded, “Okay. Deal. I’ll settle up and be right back.”
You watched Harry make his way to the bar and get his credit card back from the bartender. He was achingly attractive, even doing absolutely nothing, he was the most attractive man you’d ever laid eyes on. And far and away the kindest.
When he returned you stood from the stool and he gestured for you to lead the way to the door. The night air was warm as you turned to look up at Harry.
“I’m parked just up the street,” he jutted his chin in the direction of his car, “It was really nice to see you–“
“I’ll walk with you to your car,” you rushed the words out. You weren’t ready for him to leave. You were certain you’d never see him again and that thought was scarier than insisting you walk him to his car. Maybe just being near him for a few extra moments would make you feel better.
Silently you both walked side by side down the sidewalk toward his car. And when you got to his spot he smiled down at you, “Did you drive here?”
You shook your head, “Shared an Uber with two of my friends.”
He nodded, “Well, Y/n…” he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around your shoulders and you pulled your arms around his middle and smushed your face against his chest. He squeezed you tight and you squeezed back.
You felt his breath at your temple, “God I’m gonna miss you.”
You tilted your head back to look up at him, “I’m gonna miss you too, Harry.”
The streetlamp that cast the smallest bit of light from across the street flickered off and then sputtered back on again as you kept your eyes locked with Harry’s. You’d miss his eyes and his cologne and how nice he was to you. It felt wrong to simply let him leave.
“Y/n…” Harry spoke softly as he brought a hand up to your face, his fingers slid behind your ear and his thumb caressed your cheekbone, “Can I have one more kiss? If it’s okay?”
Nodding your head you felt his hand pull your face closer to his. He pressed his nose against yours as you fluttered your eyes shut and then felt his lips gently move over yours.
And something inside of you felt like it’d been unlocked as you opened your mouth and let him slip his tongue inside, to which you pressed yours against his and heard him moan.
You gripped his shirt tight and felt him push your back into his car as he caged you in with his arms and his hips pressed against yours. It had all happened so fast but your head was spinning and you both were lost in each other with a hungry kiss and wet lips.
He moved his hand to your neck and wrapped his palm around the front of your throat, keeping his lips attached to yours before he parted with a soft gasp, “Want to hear you say it just one more time f’me, sweet girl. What do you call me?”
You closed your eyes and felt the tips of his fingers squeezing gently at the side of your neck. You knew exactly what he was asking.
“Daddy,” you breathed before you felt his warm lips slot between yours again. He moaned deeply and you clung to his back in hopes of him staying. You didn’t want this to be it.
When you shifted your hips he lowered a hand to your thigh and pulled it upward, tucking himself in closer.
It turned out, that one more kiss wasn’t just any old kiss. Wasn’t just something you could pull away from once his lips smeared against yours, once his tongue lapped against your tongue. You held him tight through his shirt and he kept your thigh hitched over his hip and his hand at your neck as his mouth moved with yours under the flickering streetlamp.
When he pulled back and looked down at you, you tightened your fingers around his shirt, “Do you want to come over? To my place?” You couldn’t let the moment getaway. Couldn’t let Harry just leave like that. You also couldn’t believe you’d asked him over. But it was that or watch him drive away and never see him again.
Harry pulled his hand off your neck and softly tucked his fingers to the back of your head, “Really?”
You nodded and raised your brows, suddenly feeling the heat of embarrassment, “If you want. I mean you don’t–“
Your words were swallowed by Harry’s mouth over yours again. Soft lips and wet tongue making you ache and filling you with just enough gall to ask for what you’d wanted. And that was to have him in your apartment. Alone. You just wanted a little bit more. Before it was all over and forgotten and in the past. Before the moment was just something you’d look back on in the future with a tinge of sadness but with a smile on your face.
Harry opened his passenger side door for you to get inside and you texted Jax quickly explaining your sudden absence with an apology. You could explain to your friends later.
You felt Harry scoop your hand into his as he started his car and pulled out into the street. The song on the radio had just come to an end and a commercial began to play, “You’ll have to remind me of your address,” Harry glanced at you before looking back at the street.
“Oh! Yeah! Of course. Um… Just take this street to Caldwell and take a right and then we’ll go to the bridge and merge onto the highway but you’ll only be on for one exit and then the first right off the access road. Then it’s like two miles and the apartments are on the left.”
Harry laughed, “Maybe you can tell me as we approach where I need to turn. I’m a little wound up right now. Might not remember all that,” he grinned.
You were feeling your nerves begin to bubble with each mile closer to your apartment. But Harry was trying to keep you calm, you could tell.
“So, you told me once you don’t have roommates. Is that still the case?”
You nodded and looked at his handsome side profile, “Yeah. No roommates. It’s only a one bedroom. My uncle is the apartment manager and so I get rent super cheap otherwise I wouldn’t be able to have a place on my own.” “That’s nice. Looking forward to seeing it.”
Biting your lip you looked out the window and felt a pinch of anxiety. You knew what was probably about to happen and you’d welcome it! But then after that what? Would he stick around? Would you see him again? Would Kit be mad?
“What are your plans for tomorrow, Y/n?”
You released your bottom lip from your teeth, “I have a paper due on Monday so I planned on getting my sources and starting the outline. I have it mostly written but now I need to back up what I’m saying and that means I’ll probably wind up needing to rewrite some portions. But that’s my plan for tomorrow and Sunday. Get that finished up. What about you?” You looked back at him as you asked.
“Tomorrow afternoon I’m taking the boys to that Science and Play place. Not sure if you ever heard of it?” He peeked at you quickly.
“I have! I’ve actually been there,” you laughed and Harry softly rubbed his thumb along yours.
“William loves it. He’s been begging to go back. And they have a restaurant there so we’ll make a whole afternoon of it. Let the boys explore. Kit’s going out tomorrow and I don’t want the boys to see her getting all dressed up so I’m going to stay out of the house with them as long as possible.”
You nodded, “That makes sense. I’m sorry, Harry.”
He shook his head, “Don’t be. I’m suddenly not feeling so down about it all right now,” he squeezed your hand as you directed him onto the highway.
You smiled to yourself at his comment and understood what he meant exactly.
After Harry parked in the guest parking spot, you led him to your apartment up a flight of metal stairs to the second floor. You were normally very tidy and neat but you’d been a bit out of sorts since that fateful night and plus getting back into the swing of the new semester meant you had a few things strewn about which all came into view once you turned on the light.
“Sorry about the mess,” you gestured at your couch and the small chair next to it with your clothes draped over the arms.
But Harry didn’t seem to care as he pulled you into his arms and cupped your face, bringing his lips down to yours. You kissed him back with as much heat as he was putting into the kiss. You grasped onto the lats of his back as he moved you with him slowly until he pulled you into his lap on the couch and your fervor only increased.
You ran your fingers into his hair as he kissed his way down your jaw and then to your neck, pecking gently along the front of your throat and back up to your lips, “Loved when you wore that little pearl choker.”
He drew his hands along the outside of your jeans-clad thighs and you pulled away to look at his beautiful face, “I still have it.”
“Mmm… It goes with your innocent act so perfectly,” he grinned, “But I know you’re not innocent, baby. Far from it.”
You could feel his breath against your lips as he spoke and you felt that recognizable hardness under his pants.
“Why don’t you go put that pretty thing on your neck for Daddy and take off everything else?”
You were quick to push yourself off his lap and go into your bedroom. You smiled as you pulled the choker from its velvet bag and happily put it back onto your neck. You thought you’d never want it on again, but if Harry wanted it on, you would absolutely wear it.
You pulled your shirt off and began to unbutton your pants before pushing them down your legs. You hadn’t done much upkeep on yourself other than just shaving around your bikini line to keep it neat, but you knew better than to start rethinking everything now. If you had a bit of a bush so be it. You were mostly certain Harry wouldn’t mind.
When you unhooked your bra Harry was standing in your doorway watching you. His hands slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt as he watched you peel your panties down your legs.
His shirt hung open as he stepped in front of you and cupped your face. His eyes wandered over your breasts and up to your choker before setting them back on your face, “Do you know how hard you make me, Y/n? This little thing on your neck,” he lowered his thumb to the pearls and pressed on it, “…these sexy lips,” he dipped in and kissed you as he lowered both hands to your tits, “…and these gorgeous breasts.”
You smoothed your hands over his warm chest as his mouth covered yours with lazy, sloppy kisses.
“Want you to bend over the bed. Show me that pretty ass. I think you need a little spanking for making Daddy wait a month and a half to see you again.”
You moaned and then swallowed as you turned around and draped your upper half over your unmade bed, baring your full ass to him.
You felt his hands cupping your bottom and smoothing up and down to your thighs as he cooed at you, “God damn, baby. Look at you. So fucking sweet and naughty for me,” the first strike against your bottom came unexpectedly and immediately after he spoke.
He brought his other palm down on your other side and you yelped and turned to look at him over your shoulder.
He lifted his gaze from your bum to your eyes and smirked at you as he smacked you again. You dropped your mouth open and groaned when he did it again and again until you squeezed your eyes closed and stuffed your face into the mattress as he left stinging handprints on your backside.
When you felt him move away you lifted and turned to look at him behind you as he removed his clothes. He watched you with dark eyes, his sight moving from your bum to your face, “On your knees. Face me,” he motioned for you to move.
You brought yourself to your knees and looked up at him, your eyes big and round and sweet. He licked his lips and ran his knuckles over your temple, “Gotta burn this image into my brain. The sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”
He stroked himself slowly, his cock was already fully thickened and mouthwatering. You looked from his big dick up to his face as he dragged a soft thumb over your lips. He pressed his thumb into your mouth and you opened up for him.
“Keep your mouth open like this,” he pressed down on your tongue, making your jaw widen, “There we go. Need space for me in there. You want Daddy’s cock inside your mouth?”
You nodded and gurgled a yes which made him grin proudly, “I know you do. You like having your face fucked, don’t you? Little naughty girl desperate to choke and make Daddy happy.”
“Yes. Please…” you panted and opened your mouth wider for him.
Harry smeared his cock over your lips. His warm tip dragged against the soft skin of your mouth as you poked your tongue out to dab at his slit.
“Go on then. Suck.” He prodded himself forward a bit and you wrapped your lips around his smooth tip and grasped at this base. Swirling your tongue around the skin under his crown you pushed yourself down on him and pulled back, sucking in and dragging your tongue along the way before edging back down again, trying to get him as deep as possible.
You’d given head before. You had never much enjoyed it. Felt it was more a means to an end sometimes. But with Harry standing over you and cradling the back of your head, his eyes on your mouth as you took him on your tongue you realized you loved giving head. Maybe it was just Harry, though. Maybe you only loved sucking his cock because it was attached to him and you wanted to please him in every way you possibly could.
“Fuck,” Harry moaned breathily as you looked up at him with your puffy lips parted around him, moving up and down, sucking and licking, hollowing your cheeks every time you pulled back to his tip just before pushing him further into your mouth.
When you put a hand on his ball sac and softly rolled it in your palm Harry threw his head back and panted breathily, “Oh my god, baby.”
You continued your work as your eyes became blurred with tears and your chin wet with drool. You stuffed yourself down over him until his tip was poked into your throat and you gagged around him. When you repeated that move, causing you to swallow around him and gag lightly, still gently massaging his balls he pulled you off and lifted you to stand up.
“Enough for now. Think you’ve earned a reward for that.” He gently walked you backward to your bed and then gestured for you to get on just as he climbed on and pulled you over his lap again. Harry laid down, bringing you with him, and kissed you. You could feel his solid, damp cock against your pussy as you kissed him and he groped your bottom, moving you up and down against him slowly, your pussylips pushed apart and dragged over his cock.
Suddenly he pushed at you, making you sit upright, your hands on his pecs as he cupped your tits in his hands, “I want you to ride my face. Get yourself off.”
You laughed and looked at him, “How should I…”
But you let out a small squeak as he pulled at you and dragged you up his chest and over his face, gripping onto your hips and making you settle your pussy over his lips. He began kissing and licking right away, his eyes on you.
“Ohhh…” you placed your hands on the top of the headboard as you looked down and watched Harry under you. It felt so good having him naked in your bed. Having his eyes on you. Having his hands on your ass. His lips on your pussy.
You slowly tilted your hips forward and felt the sparkle of your clit being pressed into his mouth. Harry held you down tight and lapped at you, concentrating on your clit as he sucked on it.
Harry’s fingers dug into your soft bum and you felt as he moved one hand, reaching further back and dipping a finger into your pussy before smearing your arousal up and over your anus. You gasped as you stared down at his eyes. He softly circled the spot as he continued working on your clit with his mouth.
You’d never had anything done to your bottom before, but if Harry wanted to, you’d let him. You were pretty much all yes and please when it came to him anyway. You’d happily let him do what he wanted.
But he never pressed in. He only pushed at your hole and circled over the outside with a wet finger and it had you reeling.
“Daddy, oh my god!”
Harry moved his hand away and put it back on your hips so he could pull you down and move you back and forth over his face. You felt like you were in such a vulnerable position, naked, sitting on his mouth the way you were. There was part of you that worried you were crushing him but he only pulled you against his mouth harder, his brows furrowing as he tried to draw an orgasm out of you.
He moaned against your clit and drew it into his mouth, letting his tongue flick against it. The little wet noises coming from his mouth against you sounded dirty with the backdrop of your loud moaning.
Sometimes you were able to force an orgasm from yourself if you held your vibrator against your clit. Even if you weren’t worked up at all. Just for a quick release.
But you were definitely worked up with Harry. Wet and puffy and the way he was mouthing and pulling at your clit with his lips you couldn’t stop your climax even if you wanted to. It dripped from your cunt all over his mouth as you loudly cried out. Your thighs quivered around his head as you leaned forward and felt wave after wave of your release.
Harry kept his hands tight on you, holding you close so he could make sure you were feeling everything he gave you.
“Fffffuuuu!” You were feeling overwhelmed as he continued sucking you in and holding you down over him. You whined and tried lifting your hips up but he swatted at your ass before gripping your thigh and doubling down on your clit.
“Oooh ssssshhit! Ffuck!” You were trembling uncontrollably as you white-knuckled the headboard and looked down at the scene of the crime. Harry’s head between your thighs with his eyes on yours and his wet nose was lewd.
But then something snapped and the overwhelming feeling started to melt into yet another orgasm that was drawn from you without warning. You cried and whimpered as Harry let go of your thighs and put his hands at your waist to keep you steady. Your whole body trembled as you tried to hold onto the headboard but you were feeling out of your mind and blurry.
When he moved you to your back you were still coming down from the back-to-back orgasms and your brain was trying to fight its way back to the surface of clarity and awareness. Harry lay next to you and kissed your neck, his fingers trailing up your tummy and over your breasts and to your little choker, “You okay, Y/n?” His voice was barely above a whisper.
Your chest was still rising and falling heavily as you nodded, “I’m so good.”
You felt Harry’s thigh draped over the tops of yours as he trailed soft kisses up your neck and to your jaw, “You are so good.”
Reaching across your body you placed your fingers in Harry’s hair, “I want you to come, Daddy.”
Harry laughed out a puff of breath against your jaw and lifted his face to look at you, “Oh you do? You’re so sweet, honey,” his voice came out raspy and deep as he kneed his way between your legs, pushing your thighs apart and fitting himself comfortably over you, pulling at your knees to bend them up so your feet were flat.
He smiled down at you, breaking the lusty moment, “You don’t happen to have a condom do you?”
You thought for a moment. You were sure you didn’t, “I don’t really think I do. But,” you gulped and flexed your fingers nervously into the skin of his back, “I’m on birth control, so…”
Harry pursed his lips in pause as he kept his eyes on yours, “Okay,” he dipped down to kiss you, “You sure?”
“Yes. I’m sure. Want to feel you,” you nodded.
You were still so wet between your legs. You could feel Harry’s length easily slide against your pussy as he shifted himself down and pressed the top of his thighs into the back of yours, pushing your legs up slightly.
He placed his forearms down on the bed, caging you in, and pressed his mouth to yours softly. You felt him nudging at your opening so you lifted your hips, pushing against him as his tongue licked at the crease of your lips. The moment you felt his bulbous tip press through the tight muscle of your opening you gasped, dropping your mouth wide open. The feel of him entering you slowly with the weight of his hips against yours had you melting.
“That feels so good, doesn’t it baby?”
You whimpered with a nod, “Yes, Daddy…”
“Fuck I can hear how wet you are for me,” he pulled back and then pressed in. “Gonna make me come so hard, sweet girl.”
The deeper he went in the more you felt your body floating away. There was no question that Harry had a big dick. And you knew he was aware of this as well because he was gentle with you as he inched his way in and pulled back slowly.
When he’d finally poked in as deep as possible and his balls were tucked into your ass he sloppily kissed you as he began to fuck into you with slow and languid strokes. Gushy and hot and unforgiving. Even as slow as he was going every time his head nudged into your cervix you hissed into his mouth. But there was something about the little ache that you loved. Probably because it was Harry.
His pelvis dragged against your clit every time he pushed in and you felt his hand clutch the back of your neck as he licked into your mouth.
Your pussy was so full. So happy. You could feel yourself open and stretch around him. It had your head spinning.
Harry grunted as he lifted himself and softly pressed his nose against yours, “Feel that, baby? Feel Daddy’s cock sliding inside of your tight pussy? You’re gripping me so good.”
His slow rhythmic thrusts grew faster as he let go of the back of your neck and pushed himself up, palms on the mattress. His plunges were deeper and stronger and his thighs and back were flexing as he worked himself in and out, faster little by little.
“Shit! Daddy!” You shakily yelped at the faster cadence and the way he was now punching into your cervix, “It’s so fucking deep,” you gritted your teeth and threw your neck back.
“Is it too deep for your little pussy, honey? Huh?” He rutted his hips in as he asked, punctuating what he meant.
You inhaled sharply when he plunged in again, grinding his hips against yours and stuffing himself into the hilt, “Oh my god, yes! But I need it!”
Harry groaned as kept himself balls deep and sat back onto his haunches, grabbing onto your thighs to keep you in place.
With his hands at the back of your knees, he began to slide into you in long, heavy strokes until he was smacking into you just enough that your tits were bouncing and your bed was creaking in time with his thrusts.
Harry licked his thumb and lowered it to your clit which had you jolting with a small cry. Your clit was super sensitive after the way he’d handled you moments earlier.
He watched his cock move through your hole, your pussy wrapped around him tight and coating him in your cream. He moaned as his thumb was lathered in your arousal from how he was slipping it back and forth over your puffy clit.
Your small grunts and squeaks increased the wetter you got and the harder the mattress bounced under you. The patting of his skin against yours was rhythmic and bumped you upward every time he slammed into you.
You started to see stars, you could swear it as your limbs began to tingle and disintegrate. Harry was grunting and moaning at the view of your pussy wrapped around him tight and the way it felt to be swallowed by you, warm and wet and clenching.
Harry gasped and paused his strokes as he breathed heavily. His chest was red as leaned back over you and kissed you so sweetly it took your breath away. You both moaned in synch as your tongues wound around each other and wet lips slobbered together when he began to drill into you again, slower but with muscle.
You started to quiver with his chest pressed to yours and his cock deep inside of you, his pelvis grinding against yours.
“There you go… let me feel that pussy coming. Oh, baby that feels good doesn’t it,” he rutted into you as he spoke against your lips.
You nearly howled with your third orgasm. It was one thing to come from clitoral stimulation but quite another to have your clit being smeared into while having a big cock nudging in and out of you as you lost control of all functions.
Harry watched your face as you scrunched your brow and chanted Daddy and he drove into you in solid, squelching plunges. His cock made its way over your spongy insides repeatedly, hitting that one spot with his big crown over and over again until you were spent. Done for. There was nothing left for you to give.
Harry kissed you softly, stuffing himself into you gently, and moaned, “M’gonna come baby but I’m gonna pull out okay? Where do you want it sweet girl?”
You peeled your eyes open and exhaled softly, “In my mouth. Let me have it in my mouth, Daddy,” you nodded as you gripped his shoulders.
Harry stopped his motions and looked at you, almost as if in awe as he ticked his head back in forth like he was in disbelief, “Yeah?”
You nodded as he plunged in a few more times, pressing you upward, his eyes on yours as his moaning progressively got softer and you swore whiney even.
He pushed himself up and pulled out, taking his cock in his hand and pumping himself, smoothing your creamy arousal around his shaft and smothering his palm. He took his other hand and pulled you up by your neck and brought your mouth over his cock as he sat back onto his haunches.
You quickly lowered your mouth over him, tasting your juices as you sucked him in and then felt him begin to release down your throat in spurts. He coughed out a loud groan as he rutted upward, his tip slipping down your throat with his hand at the back of your head, “Fuck!” He panted and you felt his thighs shaking as he rolled his hips upward.
You swallowed and gurgled him down the best you could, gripping the base of his shaft in your hand and sucking while swirling your tongue around him until his cock stopped throbbing and pumping and he was softly gasping and breathing.
You licked your way up and popped your mouth off of him but you were in a daze.
Harry smoothed his lips against yours and easily laid you down on your back, “Just lay here and rest. I’ll be right back sweetheart.”
You closed your eyes and hummed to yourself at the taste in your mouth and the way your body was buzzing with satisfaction.
Opening your eyes just as Harry walked back into the room he was buck naked, cock swinging, chest slightly damp, and impossibly strong thighs. A god really. You’d never get over his body.
He held a glass of water out to you and had brought in a damp towel to wipe you up. You sat up to take a few gulps of water before he delicately pushed you to lie back down. The towel was warm and it felt so good on your sensitive skin.
Harry laid next to you and kissed your cheek and then nuzzled into your neck, his hot breath falling over your skin, “You’re amazing, baby. I’m never gonna forget tonight. So good for me.”
You sighed and turned to face him as he gently dabbed between your legs, “Kiss me, Daddy.”
His grin made the edges of his eyes crinkle, “Happily.” He pressed his mouth against yours and you both kissed soft and lazy as he tossed the damp towel to your floor and wrapped you in his arms.
You couldn’t be sure of how he kissed you but when he was helping you out of bed and speaking softly to you about having a bath with him so he could hold you longer you felt wobbly still.
With your eyes closed and your back against his chest in the warm water, he started talking. And as you felt more aware and conscious you realized he was sort of spilling his guts to you.
“I was so sad when I woke up this morning. But seeing you and all this,” he squeezed your arms, “I think I can breathe now. You made everything feel better, Y/n.”
You listened closely as he continued, his chest vibrating as he spoke, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that night. And I realized something too. Tonight. Just now. I think Kit was right. You and I do really have good chemistry. We fit so well together don’t we?”
You hummed and nodded with a small smile on your face.
He sighed and pulled his arms around you, “Don’t want this night to end. Want to just stay here with you, holding you like this.”
Your heart began to pound as you started to feel his words. You knew what he meant and you felt it. You could feel his scruff on your temple as he rubbed his face in toward yours, “You feeling better now?”
You nodded and turned toward his face, “Yes. So much better. You make me feel so good.”
Harry slowly blinked as he kept his gaze on yours, “You make me feel so good too.”
When the water grew tepid Harry wrapped you in a towel and tightly hugged you as he walked you to your room and made you drink more water.
He took your towel off and helped you into your bed and pulled your blankets over your naked body before he began to pick up his clothes from the floor.
You pouted and sat up, “Please don’t go. Will you stay here tonight? I need you here with me. I think I just…” you felt tears in your eyes as you looked upward to will them away.
Harry dropped his pants to the floor and sat on your bed, cupping your face to look at you, “I didn’t want to assume you wanted me to stay. But I’ll stay tonight. I’d love to stay with you.
So he did. He held you in his arms, pet your back, and kissed your forehead until you had drifted away into a deep sleep.
The morning was slow with the first bit of sun shining through the cracks of your window. You were burning hot in Harry’s arms so you poked your head up and breathed as you wiggled out of his hold.
“Where you going?” His groggy morning voice was too sexy to make sense.
“I have to pee,” you laughed as he released your wrist and you quickly padded to your bathroom.
When you got back into your room Harry was already dressed and running a hand through his hair as he looked at himself in your mirror.
Turning to face you he grinned at your Pokemon robe, “Cute. You’re always so fucking cute, Y/n.”
You looked down at the robe and shrugged at him with a small smile.
“I have to go. I hate to leave so quickly but I’ve got to get home to the boys and get them ready for our little outing today.”
You nodded, “Yeah. That’s okay. I understand.”
Harry tilted his head as he stepped in front of you and pulled you in for a hug. It felt like one of those this-is-it hugs. It felt so final.
“Y/n,” Harry pulled back to look at you, “You’re amazing. If you ever need anything or just want to say hi, you know how to reach me.”
You walked him to your door and watched as he made his way down the steps and out of your sight. Your final view of the only man you were sure you’d never get over.
.           .           .
“This is cute,” your cousin reached out to touch your pink pearl choker as you stuffed your bag with clothes.
You paused what you were doing and placed your fingers over the necklace with a smile, “Thank you.”
The necklace gave you warm and happy memories now. As much as you wished something could have happened between you and Harry you knew that just wasn’t possible. He was going through a divorce, had kids, a broken heart… But your last night together had mended you wholly. You knew it was something you’d never forget and you were grateful to him. You just hoped that maybe it did him some good too. Maybe it was something he took with him that made him smile like it did you.
The days and weeks after had been hard for you. Often you’d pick up your phone and compose a text, only to read it over and over again before deleting it. It was hard to let him go completely but now it was Christmas Eve and you felt like you were on the other side of it. Mostly. You still thought of him every day but it was easier.
“You have such good taste. You’ll have to go with me shopping sometime.” Chandy spoke as she plopped down on your bed next to your bag.
“That sounds fun actually.”
Chandy had come over to your apartment to pick you up since she lived so close. You were heading to her family home an hour out of the city. It was tradition for the whole family to get together at your aunt and uncle’s lake home. It was gorgeous in the winter with their soaring windows and snow all around.
You stacked presents into two grocery bags and slung your overnight bag over your shoulder, “Ready?”
“Yes! First, I have to use your bathroom then we’ll hit the road.” Chandy rushed off.
You sat on the edge of the arm of your couch and pulled out your phone to see a text that had your heart squeezing and throbbing.
It was a picture of Harry and the boys in front of a Christmas tree and his text read:
Merry Christmas, Y/n. We miss you!
You quickly typed out a response.
Merry Christmas! I miss you guys so much!
You placed your hand over your heart to calm yourself and the sudden rush of all your feelings you thought had begun to fade away came rushing back.
You closed your eyes after you watched your sent text go from delivered to read.
When you opened your eyes and saw that he was typing something your entire body grew hot as you stared intently at your phone.
“Okay! Ready!” Chandy chirped.
You stood up with your phone in your hand, “Uh, I’m gonna just go to the bathroom too real quick!”
You closed the bathroom door and felt the vibration from an incoming text. A wide grin on your face.
What are you doing for New Year’s?
As fast as your fingers allowed you responded.
No plans. What about you?
It was the longest wait while you watched the bouncing dots stop and restart. A full minute of waiting as you flushed the toilet (to pretend you’d been using it so Chandy didn’t wonder) and then washed your hands, staring at your screen.
The boys and I will be making a very “special” dinner and then we’ll ring in the New Year with sparkling grape juice and The Poseidon Adventure. They each invited a friend and told me I had to invite someone too.
Drying your hands off, you bit your lip and typed.
That sounds so fun. Who will you invite?
You chuckled to yourself. You were almost certain he was inviting you but you couldn’t be sure until you saw his response.
I’m inviting YOU. Wasn’t it obvious? ; )
Well, in that case, I’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss it. <3
.           .           .
You had no idea what to expect for New Year’s but you and Harry hadn’t stopped texting since he reached out. The whole time you were with your family on Christmas you kept your phone by your side so you wouldn’t miss a single message.
You dressed casually for the New Year’s Eve party at Harry’s because there were going to be 4 ten-year-old boys there. And you learned the “special” dinner they were making was grilled cheese sandwiches, French fries, and for dessert chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. It honestly sounded amazing.
You also learned that Kit had moved out, leaving the house to Harry and they were on very good terms. They would split custody of the boys 50 / 50. And that technically they were still married but the divorce was moving along quickly because there were very few things that needed to be worked out. They seemed to be on the same page.
You parked in the street in front of the Styles house and noticed lights strung up on the columns of the porch and a Christmas wreath on the front door.
The moment you closed the door to your car you saw the front door open and Warner and William busted out and ran toward you, “Y/n!! You came!” – “Dad said you were coming!”
They both hugged you, one on each side and you could have cried. You hadn’t seen them since August and it was already December. You felt like they’d grown bigger in those few months.
They started to pull you toward the house but you laughed and stopped, “Hold on! I have presents for everyone in the car I have to get.”
You opened your trunk and pulled out two bags that had presents inside and when you closed it Harry was there in the yard watching you with a soft grin. You felt blood rush to the apples of your cheeks at the sight of him and your heart throbbed in your chest.
“Hi, Y/n,” his dimples winked awake and the corners of his eyes crinkled as he stepped forward to take your bags, handing one to Warner and one to William, “Take these inside and pour Y/n a glass of the New Year’s mocktail we made. We’ll be right in.”
You clasped your hands behind your back as you let your eyes fall over his outfit. He was wearing a red chunky knit sweater with a big green Christmas tree in the center that had gold and silver balls all over it, “Love the sweater.”
Harry looked down at it and back at you, “Love that you’re here.”
The heat that spread over your face stretched down your neck and your back as he stepped in closer. He was far too handsome for his own good and all the memories you had with him were flooding your brain with inappropriate thoughts but also with fondness and excitement.
“Thank you for inviting me.” You looked up at him as he stood directly in front of you.
Harry stared down at you for a moment, his eyes blinking and his pink lips twitching tremulously, “I know I look ridiculous in this,” he gestured at his sweater looking down at it and then back at you, “and this isn’t the most romantic reunion but I wanted to ask you before the festivities started if you’d like to go on a date with me tomorrow night?”
Your lips parted as the question floated around in the air between you two. You couldn’t believe he was asking you on a date.
“A date? Like…” You bit your lip and looked down at the ground and back up at Harry, “A date date?”
Harry smiled widely and nodded, “A date date.”
You exhaled a small laugh and nodded, “Harry, I’d love that. Yes.”
Suddenly his arms were wound around your middle and you squealed as he lifted you from the ground and spun you in his arms. The moment your feet hit the grass he gave you a quick kiss, cupping your face in his hands, and then parted as he looked back at the house.
Harry let you go and smirked at you as he took your hand to lead you to the house whispering, “Now I know this sweater is pure sex but you’re just gonna have to keep your hands to yourself tonight.”
You laughed and squeezed his hand, “It’s gonna be hard but I think I can behave.”
Harry stopped and turned his face toward you, his warm mouth at your ear, “Y/n, I’m so glad you’re here.”
A/N: I hope you guys loved this! Let me know your thoughts please!!
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attapullman · 3 months
Text
Bob From Stats | Robert "Bob" Floyd
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Summary: College is a wild time, but absolutely nothing could prepare you for the quiet guy from Stats riding around campus as a cowboy. Or what a good kisser he is.
Word Count: 4.9k
Warnings: f!reader, smut, 18+ ONLY as always, dry humping, alcohol, drunken party games, mentions of studying because that gives me PTSD, semi-exaggerated Greek life for theatrical reasons
A Note From Mo: Somehow my frat!Bob, drunk Bob is Rhett, and 7 minutes in heaven ideas all rolled into one fic - wild! Massive shoutout to everyone who listened to me talk about Stats Bob (who is now officially my #2 Bob, I love him) and for supporting this here lil blog. May you find a hobby-horse-wielding future WSO to sweep you off your feet too!
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“I hate this. I’m going to quit school and become a stripper.”
Anna gives you a wry look. “That joke was only funny the first time you said it.”
“So you admit I’m funny!”
The two of you have been spread out in the library the majority of the evening. Textbooks, snacks, and highlighters littering the glossy dark wood. You’re on hour five of assignments and your brain is pounding against the front of your skull. Your other classes aren’t too bad, a bit time consuming, but Statistics is a foreign language. Thinking in probable numbers? It was one thing when the nice guy who sat behind you helped explain concepts, but Anna does not have quite the same analytical mind.
The sky outside is an inky black and the library is quiet except for your frustrated huffs. It’s Saturday night. The rest of campus is indulging in cheap beers at Barney’s, slinking along Greek Row, or enjoying tonight’s episode of Saturday Night Live. It’s time to get out of here and crawl into your soft bed. Torturing yourself with Stats homework will be just as painful on Sunday.
“If I buy us a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough, can we blow this off and hang out back at the dorms?” Anna is nodding before you’ve even finished. Stuffing notebooks into backpacks and capping pens low on ink, you’re strolling down the library stairs not even five minutes later.
As the balmy evening campus air hits your face, you already feel fresher. Campus is quiet, late enough that most people are settled into their Saturday night plans. As the two of you near Greek Row, there’s a comfortable silence as you appreciate the breeze through the trees and the warm glow of campus housing windows.
That is, until a low whoop rings out. An undercurrent of boisterous cheering and what sounds like stomping feet. You exchange eyes with your roommate. What is that?
As if summoned, a group comes galloping through the neatly trimmed cypress trees around the corner. They’re stomping their feet in a rhythm, hands held mid-air to imitate holding reigns. Drunken laughs ring out between cries of “Whoa!” and “Steady there, Lucky!” To round it off, the leader of their horse play (literally) is full-on cosplaying as a cowboy, his jeans tucked into boots and a Stetson perched atop his head. 
Wait, is he holding a hobby horse? It’s been decades since you’ve seen those horse heads stuck on a stick. The stuffed felt Appaloosa head is reigned in the cowboy’s hands, where he pretends to spur it back into action. 
Just when you think you’ve seen it all.
The group continues its way toward you and you’re equally secondhand embarrassed and amused. As they grow closer you recognize a few guys from the Pi Kapp house and wave. But it’s Anna who makes the most shocking discovery when Mr. Cowboy tilts his brim up.
"Is that Bob from Stats?" 
It takes a second to look past the brown felt hat and the hobby horse he's taking for a spin, but that's definitely the same pink-cheeked Bob Floyd who has lent you a pencil all semester.��
“Howdy, ladies.” He tips his hat to you, all toothy grin and droopy drunk eyes. "Can I offer you a ride?"
You stare open-mouthed. Shocked. That slow rancher drawl is new. The unbridled confidence is new. Actually, the entire getup is new. For nine weeks you’ve seen him in the same trucker hat and sweatshirt combo while going over homework answers together. What is going on?
He’s clearly in the middle of his house party crawl, bright blue eyes half open behind his metal frames. Just as gorgeous as ever as a tendril of sandy hair curls against his forehead. Normally your reaction to him is tender, a puppy dog crush. But this wild, inebriated version of him? You’re hot under the collar.
“You think there’s room on your horse?” Ever since that first Stats class he’s made your brain feel like it’s on RedBull. The way he noticed you missing a writing utensil and offering you his extra. His kind smile when you get a homework answer completely wrong. Anna hasn’t noticed your crush, but it feels obvious with the way you can barely keep eye contact with him yet are unable to look away. Especially with that stupid cowboy hat on.
He bites his lip, considering your response, and his buddies all razz him as he drawls out, “There will be if we squeeze in.”
The wink makes your mouth dry.
Someone from the back of the group complains of the cold and the group prepares their steeds to head back to Pi Kapp. Anna explains you’re headed back to the dorms, tone deaf to the sexual tension, and Bob nods with his brow furrowed. 
“Another time then.” His white tshirt practically glows in the moonlight. “Have a good night, chickadees. Get home safe!”
With another tip of his Stetson to you, Bob Floyd gallops away toward another keg. 
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You’re sprinting across campus, cursing how late your meeting with your advisor went. There was ten minutes to get across campus and he had spent four of those questioning whether you really needed another semester of French. You make it into the lecture hall with a minute to spare, finding your preferred spot in the lower rows where you can actually see the board. Right in front of Bob.
“What? No cowboy hat for class?” His cheeks flame red, the hope you’ve forgotten about his Saturday antics lost. He looks like himself today, his signature trucker cap keeping the hair off his face. Those friendly ultramarine eyes shyly focusing on his notebook because god forbid he makes eye contact after you’ve seen him gallop across campus on a fake horse. 
He rubs the back of his neck over his soft-looking crewneck, an awkward smile playing on his lips. “It’s at the cleaners.”
You give him an amused grin before settling yourself into one of the classically uncomfortable lecture seats. Anna waves to you from where she’s rushing in, historically always late. The professor is shuffling notes at the podium as she collapses into the seat next to you, nodding her head in greeting to you and to Bob. She raises her eyebrows to you, a “remember when Bob was dressed as a cowboy” gesture, and your lips twist happily. 
“Alright, class, who’s ready to talk probability?” The collective groans and hollers mark the start of lecture. You flip open your notebook and start digging around for a writing instrument in your bag. Like usual, you seem to be missing a pen or pencil when you need one most.
A tap on your shoulder. You turn and lock eyes with the frat boy-turned-cowboy with the shy smile. He holds out a pencil to you. Taking it sheepishly, you mouth a thank you and turn back to lecture. After nine weeks it shouldn’t be this embarrassing, but every week he’s given you a pencil since you whispered shoot! a little too loud on Week 1.
Risking a quick glance back at him, engrossed in the Empirical Law of Averages while he twirls his pencil, you’re not sure you can survive the rest of the semester.
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By the end of the Stats lecture on Thursday, you have one brain cell to your name and seven pages of notes. What a brutal class. Midterms were quickly approaching and not a single professor had any mercy. As you pack up your stuff - including the borrowed pencil that would promptly disappear before next class - you make a study plan with Anna for that evening. She brings the chips, you’ll supply the vodka.
“Are you two not hitting the houses tonight?” He looks uncomfortable having interrupted the two of you.
Bob shifts his backpack to his other shoulder, adjusting the collar of his navy blue sweatshirt. Other than when he’s kindly exchanged homework answers before class - or been drunkenly galloping across campus - the two of you don’t speak much. The odd quip here and there, but overall the two of you exist in pencil-sharing quiet. “Everyone’s having pre-midterm parties before buckling down to study.”
“Oh, that sounds fun!” You look at Anna encouragingly. As needed as a vodka-infused study session was, one night out couldn’t hurt. And it was Thursday. No classes tomorrow meant you had three days to buckle down and attempt to understand anything you’ve learned this semester. 
She eyes you warily, but agrees that Greek Row sounds like a better option than highlighting textbooks. Bob flashes you his timid smile beneath the brim of his cap. “It’ll be a fun night. Maybe I’ll see you? If not, have a good weekend!” 
As he starts to walk out, a feeling takes over you. “Bob?” You watch him slow down and turn, wide blue eyes watching you from behind those unconventionally cute glasses. “You’ll be at the Pi Kapp house, yeah?” He nods. “Cool. See you around!”
Despite standing next to it the entire conversation, neither of you notice the pencil sitting on the desk, left behind as you head out for your respective weekends.
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“What did you say?” You’re practically yelling to be heard over the EDM that Sigma Chi is blaring. They’ve turned their house into a rave with glow sticks, body paint, and music so loud your eardrums must be burst. The beer is warm, your arm has supernaturally purple paint smeared across it, and Anna has been unsuccessfully telling you a story for ten minutes.
Huffing, she grabs your arm and drags you toward the entrance, tossing your cups onto a random hallway table where a heated makeout session is taking place. They move out of the way just enough so the two of you can slip out of the old colonial house and out into the cool night. The ringing in your ears subsides slowly as you lean against the columns of the front porch. 
“House number three? Also sucked. Three strikes and you’re out? Can we go home?” Anna grabs your wrist and pouts. She wanted movie night with vodka and a pizza from Pietro’s. You wanted to blow off steam.
But Alpha Sig had mostly been freshman and Phi Delt, while not a terrible party, had the most smarmy men on campus. The bleeding eardrums of Sigma Chi was preferable to pushing off men in polos just to grab another drink. You just wanted a semi-decently flavored alcoholic beverage - maybe three - while chatting with some friends. You weren’t asking for much.
Allowing Anna to drag you in the direction of the dorms, ready to admit defeat, you slow to a stop seeing the bricked entrance to Pi Kappa Phi. Bob’s fraternity. A few minutes wouldn’t hurt, right?
It takes a little convincing, but soon you’re in the warmly lit foyer of the Pi Kapp house. The vibe is more relaxed than Sigma Chi, with a keg in the corner, an array of liquor bottles in the kitchen, and hip-hop softly filling the house. You’re impressed they’ve even gone the extra mile with multi-colored string lights across every surface to brighten up the otherwise dark house. 
“Yooooo, how’s it going?” A drunken loaf of snapback and Deep Eddy envelopes you in a hug. It’s Tyler, one of your freshman seminar PK friends. Exchanging pleasantries - the best you can with someone that far gone - he drags you further into the house. Miscellaneous groups of Greek and geed litter the hallways. Anna sees her friends from Delta Gamma and ditches you, promising to get home safe. Tyler continues on his mission to god knows where.
At least he’s considerate enough to stop in the kitchen so you can grab a whiskey lemonade to sip.
Eventually you’re spat into a sitting room of sorts, groups crowding the ring of sofas while drunkenly jeering at the game. You set yourself on the arm of one, trying to make sense of the theatrics. The latest victim laughs out a “Truth!” before everyone giggles wickedly. Are they playing truth or dare? 
Your eyes gloss over the group, trying to figure out who else you know. A few PK’s you recognize, a girl who smiles but looks unfamiliar, and…a cowboy hat that is a dead giveaway.
Standing up and walking around the group, you tap him on the shoulder. The biggest blue eyes meet yours, a surprised smile splitting his face. 
“You made it!” That deep drawl is back and that tingle reappears on your spine. Bob jumps up from the couch, beer bottle dwarfed in his hand, and comes to stand with you. “You having a good night?”
Ironically, your night is much better now that you’ve found him. He’s back in his cowboy gear, a worn denim shirt tucked into his jeans and those same cowboy boots scuff against the hardwood. You’re tempted to steal the felt hat from his head just so he looks a little bit more like Bob from Stats. 
Squeezing your eyes shut, letting the alcohol be an excuse, you succumb to the obvious question. “I need to know - what’s with the…cowboy?” You gesture up and down, drawing a chuckle from him.
He blushes under the felt brim. “You know I have a slight accent, yeah?” You attempt to stifle your laugh as he incidentally talks in a thicker accent. “When I was a pledge they started calling me cowboy. Saw the hat while I was in town one week, ended up leaning into the joke.”
“And the hobby horse?”
He beckons you closer, bringing his lips to your ear. “Stolen from my little sister over summer break.”
There’s that wink again making your knees weak. He pushes his glasses back up his nose and takes another sip from his beer. Despite the party raging around you, nothing else seems to exist past him asking about your night and if you want another drink. You’re wrapped in the warmth of his words, itching to snuggle into his broad chest. 
The spell is broken when “Cowboy Bob!” rings out from the crowd. The entire room is turned to you two. “Truth or dare, man?”
In the background of your intimate conversation with Bob, the truths and dares have reached full raunchiness. People have been stripped of clothes and dirty secrets. A bead of sweat gathers at Bob’s collar, aware that neither option is safe. 
His worried gaze flits to you, as if you hold the correct answer, before tipping his hat back and exhaling, “Dare?” 
It’s gutsy, but if there’s one thing you’re learning about the quiet guy from Stats, he’s full of surprises. The crowd bubbles with excitement, anticipating what dare will be dealt out. Next to you, the wannabe cowboy looks more annoyed than anything. He was enjoying talking to you not in a classroom and with a little liquid courage.
An evil smile crosses the dare-dealer’s face. He knows Bob and isn’t blind to what’s going on. He’s gonna help his buddy out on this one.
His arm stretches out and he points (with the red plastic cup in his hand) to the coat closet at the end of the hall. “Hmmmmm, I dare you to, hmm, play Seven Minutes in Heaven with…” It’s no surprise when the cup-turned-pointer lands on you.
Ice water down your back wouldn’t be as panic inducing. It’s hard to tell who swallows harder, you or Cowboy Bob. Every instinct is telling you to run, but that little voice in the back of your head wins out. As Bob starts to tell you it’s okay, they’re joking, you don’t have to, you grab his thick wrist and give him a nervous smile. You don’t even care what the punishment is for not completing a dare, this stupid drunken game has given you an opportunity.
The dealer of the dare follows the two of you down the hallway, leading the whoops and wolf whistles. Bob’s cheeks flame scarlet in the low light. You keep your chin high and eyes forward. He can definitely feel the way you’re trembling around his wrist.
Whether in anxiety or excitement it’s hard to tell.
The inside of the closet is dark, the faint light under the door casting only the faintest of shadows. Your heart is pounding, blood pulsing through your ears. Bob rubs his lips together nervously. It’s all you can do to not run your tongue along them. 
“We don’t have to do anything, we can just talk.” The way he prioritizes your comfort makes heat pool between your legs. The brim of his hat is as far back as it can go, his eyes tracing the lines of your face as he gauges your emotions. He’s welcome to figure them out, you’re unsure of them yourself. 
His large, warm hand rubs your forearm comfortingly, your skin too cold without his touch. You’re suffocating under his sweat-and-bergamot scent, citrusy and warm.
You bite the bullet. “What if I want to?”
His breath stops. Fingers find yours in the dark, interlocking on either side of your hips. Eyes you know are the deepest blue lock onto your gaze, a million emotions passing behind his irises. Face descending upon the space between you, tentatively showing his intentions. You meet him in the middle, caution out the window.
The kiss is gentle, puzzle pieces slotting together for the first time. He tastes like malt sugar and peppermint. Mouth warm and soft, enveloping you fully in his comfort. It’s even better than what you’ve imagined for the past nine weeks.
Bob begins to pull away, ever the gentleman. Your hand finds his collar, holding him in place. “Not yet, we still have, like, five and a half minutes.”
Despite the low light, his smile lights up the closet.
His lips return to yours in a rush, swallowing your mouth in a passionate heat. The press of his body to yours is delicious. Hands previously at your side meet your hips, lightly squeezing as you moan into his mouth. You reach up and hold the back of his neck, bringing him even closer as your lips toy with the tiniest bit of stubble along his jaw.
“You know,” he starts, holding the moan in the back of his throat. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since September.”
You pull back momentarily, a crinkle upon your brow. “Bob, we didn’t start Stats until January.”
He kisses the confusion from your face, his hands wrapping further around your body. “And you looked very pretty in that green dress at the homecoming barbecue.”
Bless your love of school spirit and free food. “Why didn’t you? Kiss me?”
“I don’t normally make a habit of kissing girls I don’t know. And clearly it takes an entire fraternity for me to get you alone.” The way his chuckle bounces against your skin has you squirming. Your schoolgirl crush on him wasn’t one-sided, and suddenly you’re hot for teacher. 
You capture him in another kiss, tongue searching the seam of his lips for entrance. He obliges immediately, groaning as you explore his taste. Four hands roam skin, finding purchase in anything and everything. Your body has a mind of its own as you press against him, chest heaving with your passion. The right shift of fabric on fabric reveals that he’s equally as affected by the chemistry.
Reluctantly, he pulls away once more, threading his fingers across the back of your neck. Takes a moment to capture his breath as he sees the lust in your eyes. A deep breath. “As much as I like you, I don’t want to do anything if you’re drunk.”
Soft fingers follow the line of his arm to where it wraps around your waist. How is he this impossibly sweet? Thoughtful, respectful, and looking hot as sin with swollen lips. It’s unfair.
“I promise I’m not.” You stroke the back of his hand. “Please kiss me?”
His large hands unwrap from your waist and travel down, shifting behind your legs and pulling you up, resting your back against the wall. You tangle your legs around his waist as best you can in the small space, relishing his firm body pressed deliciously close, warm and solid. Kisses smeared across lips and jaws as noises crescendo. You’re panting as you trail down to his impossibly long neck, desperate to cover it in affection.
You’ve barely explored the expanse of skin when the door flies open, the boisterous party sounds flooding in. Reality strikes like a slap across the face. The truth-or-dare ringleader takes you in - legs wrapped around Bob and hands creeping toward your ass - and whoops in delight. Who knew Cowboy Bob had it in him!
“Time’s up, lovebirds!” He crows and reaches forward to slug Bob lightly on the shoulder. 
Not skipping a beat, Bob shoves his friend back and throws up his middle finger. “Fuck off, Milburn.” 
The closet door slams shut, blanketing you again in the intimacy of the moment. You’re looking at him with unsure eyes and he’s praying the moment hasn’t been ruined. He’s waited seven calendar months for this opportunity and his fingers are so close to enjoying the plump squeeze of your ass.
“We can go back to the party if you want?” Your voice is so small, nervous outside of those bold seven minutes. Tentative breaths exist between you. 
In lieu of an answer, he bows his head to give you a searing yet gentle kiss.
That cramped coat closet suddenly is an inferno, his tongue slipping inside your mouth and groaning at the burning sweetness of your taste. Your hands grip his shoulders as you fight for dominance, fingers tangling in denim. Hips brushing together, still clinging to the idea of this being innocent. 
An innocence immediately lost when Bob strikes up the courage and palms your ass. Soft and pliable and perfect to squeeze in his palms. He remembers the exact day you came to class in the tightest jeans known to man (laundry day) and the way he had dug his pencil in his palm to avoid a semi as your curved ass met the lecture seat. Something unavoidable now as you squirm against him, moaning your pleasure against the pulse in his neck.
Nothing has ever felt as good as rubbing against Bob Floyd’s clothed bulge. One glance down and you’re dizzy with arousal. Rutting yourself against him as best you can with your limited mobility, sloppy kisses exchanged as the two of you can barely keep your mouths closed. It feels so good, too good. 
Lost in the moment, one hand slips below the hem of your skirt, warm skin on skin. Any noise from outside the closet dims to a hum. Two hearts beating rapidly as desire fully consumes, directing lips to too hot exposed skin. You murmur your need in his ear. You don’t care where you are, you need him.
Bob tucks a finger under your thong, feeling the slick coating your folds. The whine that leaves him is desperate and gruff. He groans against your throat. “Shit, I don’t have a condom.”
Undeterred, your lip catches between your teeth, core muscles contracting as you grind your hips forward. “Doesn’t mean I can’t go for a ride.”
He’s immediately on board, teasing you briefly before extricating his hand to support you better against the wall. His hands practically swallow your ass, flooding you with lust. You thrust your chest against him, desperate to touch every spot on his handsome body as your hips begin to grind. 
His hands are sweltering as they trail down, effortlessly clutching the back of your thighs to give you leverage. Your clit finds friction against his jeans and your mouth hangs open as you buck frantically into him.
“Look at you move, cowgirl,” he breathes out, infatuated. The nickname spurrs you on, whimpering against his lips.
One hand clutching his bicep, holding on for desperate life, while the other snakes its way atop the damned cowboy hat that’s stayed on the entire encounter. Gripping the top of it and holding fast as you ride his clothed bulge with everything you’ve got. Denim and lace against your clit, rubbing deliciously as your brain fuzzes. His hot mouth focused at the hinge of your jaw, sucking soft bruises into the skin; moaning when you brush him just right. 
“I’m close,” you whisper against his cheek. Time has stood still, but it’s embarrassing how close he’s gotten you to orgasm with just his clothed cock and strong hands. 
He ruts his hips forward, meeting your thrusts in heavenly synchronization. You’re panting as the pressure on your clit catapults you, so close to the ultimate prize. Whispers of you can do it, cowgirl, cum for me, doing so good riding me, just a bit more, cowgirl fizzle your senses. 
“O-oh!”
It’s intense, the blinding pleasure coursing through your body. Prolonged by the thick bulge still rutting against you, ready to burst itself. Lips tickling your ear as he praises you. You want to live in this perfect moment of bliss. A moment only perfected when Bob’s fingers grip too hard and his hips stutter up into yours. His all-consuming orgasm only muffled by the skin of your shoulder as he rides it out. 
The rhythmic slowing of your breaths is all you can focus on. You breathe in, he breathes out. Small smiles and a blush barely visible in the low light. 
Delicately, like he knows you might break, he releases you back to the ground; taking his time to smooth down your skirt and straight out your top. Your own hands reach up to his chest, fixing the fabric that had bunched up in your passion. Adjusting his fogged glasses to look into his beautiful eyes.
It doesn’t matter how much you clean up, one look at you two and anyone would comment you’ve been ridden hard and put away wet.
With one final kiss to your lips, you feel something land on your head. The brown cowboy hat with the rip along the edge. Cowboy Bob showing off his cowgirl.
You tentatively open the closet door, eyes adjusting to the normal light. Painfully aware of the wet splotch on the obvious front of his jeans, Bob holds your body against him as a human shield. The party is still going strong - your antics have not interrupted anything - and you slip toward the front door without notice. Well…mostly, as a few wolf whistles reach your ears.
“It’s not that late, you want to go back to mine? I’m just off Thornton. It’s quiet since everyone is here.” His eyes are so hopeful in the dark night. So desperate for you to say yes. For you to be his cowgirl beyond tonight.
You wrap your arms around him and pull him close, careful to avoid the spot where your bodily fluids have drenched his jeans. “I’m in.” Your smile is blinding. “We have about nine weeks of Stats to make up.”
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The brick is uncomfortable behind your back, but it’s hard to care when his lips feel so good. Broad shoulders shielding you from the hallway, trucker hat turned around and glasses in his pocket so there’s not an inch between your faces. Agreeing to meet outside before lecture was such a good idea.
Despite spending most of the time between Thursday night and Tuesday afternoon in Bob’s apartment trying every position in the book (with teasing hollers from his Pi Kapp roommates adding to the soundtrack) you can’t help but steal these five minutes. He looks so cute, to not kiss him would be a crime.
Bob squeezes your hips, lips trailing down your jaw. “What’s on your mind, cowgirl?”
“I’m trying very hard to convince myself that we pay a lot of money to attend this school and should go learn about statistics. Even though I really only want to head back to my dorm and see how sturdy that loft bed is.”
From where his nose traces your ear, a guttural whine leaves him. “You can’t say something like that and expect me to go to class.”
You pull back to look at him, fingers tickling the close cropped hair at his neck. God, he makes it so hard to want to be responsible.
“Let’s make a deal, okay? We’ll go to class, learn, and tonight you come over and for every study guide question you get right I’ll take off a piece of clothing. Sound good?” He’s practically panting as he smothers your mouth in another kiss. He’s really good at Stats. A steady stream of students files past Bob’s back, a sign that class is about to start.
You press another kiss to his lips. “Let’s go or we’ll miss out on seats. Plus I need to dig through my bag for a pencil.”
“Do you think you actually have one today?” He smirks, amused. The eighteen pencils he’s lent you say otherwise.
Your cheeks are hot under where he kisses them. “Uh…if I don’t can I borrow one? If you have one, that is.”
He lets out a soft chuckle and holds you closer, rubbing your noses softly.
“You do realize I’ve been buying pencils all semester just to give to you, right?”
Turning his cap around - insides fully melted - you know you’re in this rodeo for the long run.
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sanspuppet · 3 months
Text
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☆ mdni - smut
☆ synopsis - Your boyfriend Wooyoung proposes you to fuck his bestfriend in front of him
☆ bf!Wooyoung x fem reader x friend!San
☆ W/T: voyeurism, blow job, fascial, cum eating, unprotected sex, San has a big dick and… he’s kinda into your ass “-“
Wooyoung already told you time ago that he was curious to see how hot would it be to watch you having a sex act, with someone else. You couldn’t help but giggle at first:
“Baby, we can just record us two”
“No, i wanna be in front of you, watch how you tear desperately while you get your ass clapped from behind”
You never thought it would really happen, but now that you were laying on your bed wearing only a lingerie, and his best friend San was taking off his sweater next to you, you realized that Wooyoung really meant it. Not that you complained though, he chose San because he trusts him blindly and honestly talking, you also find him very hot, getting fucked by him wouldn’t be a bad idea for sure.
You looked up at Wooyoung, sat comfortably on the armchair in the corner of the room. He bit his lip, resting his head on his palm, silently staring at you and the man next to you.
“Look at her Sannie, isn’t she so sexy?” he smirked. You could already feel your cheeks burning from the embarrassment, but at the same time the thought of having another man watching you half naked was making you wet. You turned around on your stomach, noticing how San’s gaze immediately landed on your ass.
“Yeah… absolutely gorgeous.” he was already with only his boxers on, looking at him from one side you could easily notice the fabric of them tensing around the shape of his crotch. Damn, he was pretty big.
“Then kiss her body, cover it with hickeys. But don’t you dare on the lips, she’s still mine” Wooyoung led.
San nodded, you kneeled next to him, facing Wooyoung so he could have you on complete display. You quickly got distracted when you felt San’s lips attached to your neck, sucking on your soft skin, his hand holding your jawline still. Your head rolled back slightly, exposing more of your neck. His hot lips planting intense kisses made your body shiver, you moaned lowly, enjoying the pleasure. You gripped San’s arm when he suddenly bit hard on your shoulder, a louder whine left your mouth.
“Come on San, put in good use those hands” Wooyoung chuckled, biting on his nails seductively.
The man next to you looked deeply in your eyes searching for a rhetoric approval, before moving his hand down your chest. He groped your tits, sucking continuously on your neck, until it was covered in purple marks.
Wooyoung raised his palm. “I think it’s enough. Y/n, honey. Why don’t you show him how much of a good girl you are?” You nodded, actually excited to show off your skills. You quickly got off the bed and kneeled on the verge of it, San followed your moves and sat down in front of you. He looked up at Wooyoung, asking silently what he was supposed to do now.
“Go on baby, suck his dick. It’ll be a little more difficult with him than when you do it to me, but i’m sure you’ll make it.” You turned around perplexed, not until you saw San taking his dick out of his boxers that you understand how big he really was. You looked up at him with doe eyes, he could tell you were a little scared. San patted slightly your head before grabbing it and moving it down his length. It wasn’t really long, but fuck if it was fat. Your cheeks felt sore not long after you started sucking him off. You moved as fast and as deep as you could, his hand kept guiding you. You couldn’t see his expressions, too focused on not choking around him.
“How does it feel bro? She’s good, isn’t she?” Wooyoung smirked at the sight of San melting under your touch, he had his head thrown back, his hand gripping your hair helplessly. You pulled away to look at him replying, stroking him quickly with your tiny hand compared to his girthy cock.
“Fuck— yeah. Imma cum— so bad, oh god” San furrowed his eyebrows from pleasure, his mouth hung open as if he wanted to moan, no sound came out though.
“Then do it on her face, bet she’d look so pretty covered in your cum”
Wooyoung didn’t even get to finish his sentence that San pulled your head back by the hair, his other hand pumped his dick with force and desperation. You closed your eyes and sticked your tongue out, giggling once you felt warm ropes landing on your face.
“Ughh fuck yes— she’s so cute like this” San smirked at the man who was looking at you two. He turned your head over him, showing off his work of art.
“Too bad that you can’t see yourself now baby” Wooyoung said to you. You rubbed away some cum off of your closed eyelids to open your eyes, you licked your fingers while making eye contact with the man standing in front of you. “Mmh— delicious” San couldn’t help but bit his lips at that, which made him hard again in a millisecond.
You jumped onto the bed, on your hands and knees. “Can he fuck me now?” you asked your boyfriend, eager to take his best friend’s thick cock. Damn if you wanted to know how it feels to have such a big one fucking you dumb.
“If you want it that bad you should at least beg for it” Wooyoung rested his elbows on his knees, looking at you with hooded eyes. “I taught you how to behave, baby”
You blinked a few times, confused. “Who… should i beg?” the man on the chair chuckled joyfully.
“Darling it’s San’s dick, i think you should beg him”
You nodded slightly, your gaze moving up to the man at your left. Without him expecting it, you sat on his lap. The feeling of his hard member pressing against your soaked panties thrilled you, making you unconsciously rub them against him.
“P-please San… i did so good- for you… C-can i take you?” you stuttered, taking sharp breaths between every few words. The friction only grew higher. San smirked, his hand moved down your ass, groping its cheeks.
“Mmh yeah i would love to” a harsh slap hit your hips, getting a little chuckle from him right after your surprised whine.
“Get on all fours, you have such a nice ass y/n”
You did as he said, holding on your forearms with your hips up. Wooyoung was biting his lip hard smirking at you, he whispered good girl while San positioned himself behind you.
Both men looked at each other, lust glowing in their eyes. You tried to muffle a moan when the one behind you rubbed his tip against your folds, right after pulling apart your soaked panties. He pressed your back, making you arch at the right angle. Pushing himself slowly into you, in a few seconds he reached the deepest he could be. You were about to tear at first, but when you got used to his length, having him inside you was nothing but pleasant.
“Don’t go easy with my baby, fuck her senseless” Wooyoung sat closer to the bed, facing you.
San meanwhile, started moving at a mid pace, just to stretch you out better. He held your hips still with a strong grip when he sped up. His thrusts sharp and deep that felt like a fucking bliss. You bit your lower lip, your hair obstructed your vision while you looked at Wooyoung, as you got hammered with force.
“Stop holding back darling, moan for us” he lowered himself to make eye contact with you easier. You hold your breath for a fee seconds before letting out a loud, desperate whine, San finally hit your g-spot.
“Fuck—! Right there- yeah!”
“Yeah you like it, don’t you? Fuck- so tight. Woo, you’re a lucky one for having her.” San hissed from pleasure, his thrusts getting sloppier as you squeezed around him.
Wooyoung chuckled. “I know. Untie the bra now.”
Without even a second passing, San untied it with one quick move, exposing your bouncing tits. The man in front of you smirked proudly.
“The hair, i can’t see her face properly” he added. Getting your hair pulled right after, raising your chin and forcing you to face your boyfriend. Despite your sight was already foggy from pleasure, words barely reaching your mind as the two spoke.
San kept rolling his hips into you, your wetness making already a mess of the sheets. He was also struggling not to loose his control from how good you felt, so desperately that you could notice it by how his fingers dived into your back as he smacked your hips against his pelvis by himself.
Wooyoung did nothing but watch at that point, he was rock hard and even though he was highly enjoying it, he also needed to be inside you as soon as possible. He was palming himself, trying to find enough friction to distract his real need.
Meanwhile, you and San were a moaning mess, your moves messy, focusing only on reaching each own orgasm.
“Please— I’m gonna cum!” you whined out, barely standing on your wrists from the rough friction you were getting.
“Fuck, me too” San groaned. He looked at Wooyoung, expecting him to say what to do.
“Pull out, she’s mine. You can cum on her ass you kinky man”
As said, San slided out and started stroking himself quickly until reaching his climax. On the other side, you buried your face into the mattress m, frustrated by the negation of your own high. Wooyoung caressed your head, feeling you.
“Don’t worry baby, i’ll take care of you now” he looked up at San, sat down trying to regain himself.
“Man, thank you so much. Although, it’s my moment now. You can leave, so i’ll get my girlfriend fucked by myself”
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Thank you for reading! :3 I know i haven’t posted in quite a while buuutttt duh i can say i’m pretty busy lmao
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discopaddock · 3 months
Text
I DON'T WANNA TALK - CHARLES LECLERC
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SUMMARY: charles is mad after the bad race, what can go wrong after screaming at his girlfriend?
PAIRING: charles leclerc x fem!reader
GENRE: angst with happy (???) ending
WORD COUNT: 0.9k
WARNINGS: screaming, crying, charles is mad, traumatizing childhood and parent, ENGLISH ISN'T NY FIRST LANGUAGE
AUTHOR'S NOTE: hiya, was inactive for a (longer) moment, school still sucks, inspiration is taking offence at me and history at school does kill me right now fr (we started the great war recently and watched im westen nichts neues - i hate this kind of films). anyway this was based in this request.
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Charles was angry. No, he was furious.
Race didn't go well. He had to retire after Perez touched him and he ended up in the wall.
Race was good, for two laps he was even leading but then the Mexican showed up and Charles’ good race said “bye bye”.
“Charles,” his girlfriend said after they were finally in their hotel room.
He wasn't in the mood for talking. He didn't want her pity. He wanted to take a shower (another one) and scream in his pillow.
The girl was looking at him, worried. This wasn't the state she has seen him for many times. It was the first time actually.
“I don't wanna talk” he answered only and grabbed some clothes of his and entered the bathroom.
“If you’d like to-” she started but he turned around to face her with anger written on his face, panting.
“Shut up!” Charles yelled at her and entered the bathroom. She was left speechless. There were tears forming in her eyes that started falling down when she heard the slam of the door.
Oh, she really didn't want it to come back.
Life was good, great even, then those memories came to her mind, causing another session of crying.
The girl had no idea what to do.
Her eyesight wasn't so clear as she was looking for the tissues, convinced that her make up was smeared as hell.
When she finally found some in her bag, she next jumped on the bed and covered herself with the blanket.
Her heart was hurt, it didn't crack in shatters but still it hurt as hell.
She felt like that seven year old girl, who was standing in front of her father, crying because he yelled at her.
She was screamed at because of trying to make her dad come to terms with her beloved mother.
It was too much for little Y/N. It hunted her for years.
Especially now, when her and Charles were trying everything to have a baby. She was frightened she became the same as her father and her child would have to experience the same case as she had.
And now it was too much for adult Y/N.
She knew she should meet her therapist as soon as she could but she couldn't since she was travelling with her boyfriend around Asia for the next two weeks and her therapist wasn't doing online appointments.
And there she was, still lying on her side of the king-size bed covered with a blanket and still crying.
Charles wasn't aware of his girlfriend's reaction to his behaviour until he left the bathroom, all showered and with a clear mind, and heard sobs in the room.
He sighed only and went to the bed and took a seat beside the girl. He carefully took off the blanket of her face and saw her with smeared make up, red eyes and runny nose.
She didn't want to talk with him and put her head in the pillow, so he couldn't look at her.
“I'm sorry-” he started but her hushed by the pillow voice interrupted him with:
“I don't wanna talk.”
So Charles didn't talk more but kissed her head quickly and left to the living room, to give her space he knew she needed.
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The next hour went, well, silent.
Y/N wasn't sobbing anymore, just blowing off her nose and coughing from time to time. Charles at the other hand was thinking about his new song and was trying to write any notes but he lacked at stave paper and at any keyboard or piano.
The girl finally got out of the bed and entered the bathroom. She grabbed some cotton pads and put micellar water on it and began to remove her make up.
It was a heavenly feeling for her, since her eyelids were sticking to each other because of the mascara.
Next she grabbed some cleaning foam and removed the rest of the cosmetics and put on the cream.
The girl left the bathroom and went to Charles who was sitting on the couch with some folded paper around.
He heard her steps and turned around to see her face.
“Ready to talk?” he asked only and she nodded, then sat beside him. “I'm sorry, truly” he said, looking into her eyes, that he loved so much. Now they were puffed and red from the crying.
“I know” she answered and hugged him like a koala. Charles wrapped his arms around her body, without saying any words.
“What happened?” the man asked, rubbing her back with his palm. “Tell me, I'm not leaving this without any explanation,” he added in a calm tone.
The girl was silent for a few moments. But then she told him only:
“Father was screaming at me for trying to help.”
Charles was speechless. He knew his girlfriend’s relationship with her father wasn't good, but he didn't know it was that bad. He never asked since her mother told him not to for the girl's mental state.
“I'm sorry, dove. I'm so sorry” he whispered to her ear, trying to comfort her the best he could.
“I don't want to be like him” she mumbled in the crock of his neck and he sighed.
“You are not like him,” he assured her. “You will never be like him,” he added and kissed her temple. “You are a better person than him, dove.”
“I love you” she mumbled.
“I love you too” she whispered back and they remained silent for the rest of the night, cuddled in each other’s arms.
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hitomisuzuya · 25 days
Note
Hi Suzu! How are you doing? I hope everything is fine 🫶🏽
Well, I'm a big fan of scummy Scara, maybe, can I ask for scummy Scara x reader, however, reader is also a scummy person, and Scara will discover this, probably he'll discover a secret obsession from us for him 🤫🤭, a smut or suggestive, as long as you feel comfortable writing, I hope you have a nice day.
Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Scummy Scara. Journal descriptions of blow job, masturbation, degradation, sex. Filth. Yandere!Scara
Hello dear❤️ Thank you so much. I got a bit creative with this. Guys, I am nervous. I am pulling for Scara's C3 and weapon on his rerun.
Scaramouche knew your schedule like the back of his hand. What times you had which classes, when you would leave, the route you would take, and when you would be back. Tonight was one of the few evening classes he couldn't change his schedule to take the class too.
There was something he was dying to get his hands on. There was this one notebook you always, always carried with you. You never left it unattended. He gathered there was something personal about that notebook.
He had 95% of his classes with you, he always saw you writing in it. He could tell you weren't taking notes, because it looked like you weren't even listening to a word the teacher said during lectures.
What was going through your pretty little head? He had to know.
So, when he saw you leaving for your class without the notebook, he knew this was the only chance he would have. Was your head so far in the clouds that you left your dorm without it? His captivation with you increased even more thanks to his curiosity.
Each and every time he snuck into your room, never once did Scaramouche find the notebook. The first place he'd looked was your panty drawer. He didn't find it, however, he'd found a pair of panties and jacked himself off with them once he sprayed some of your perfume on them.
It only turned him on more knowing his cock would smell like you.
The scent of you enveloped him as he closed your dorm door behind him. He knew if anyone saw him sneaking into your room, they would be too pissed scared of him to call him out on it.
"Where oh where did you put it, kitten?" Scaramouche murmured as he crawled onto your bed. He was a pro at fixing your sheets back perfectly. The corner of something purple was sticking out underneath your blanket.
There it was!
Did he feel bad for snooping.
...
NOPE.
He stretched out on my bed, kicking some Squishmellows off your bed and onto the floor. He opened your notebook to a random page. His eyes widened, his breath hitching in his throat as his read.
On the page, written in your handwriting was stuff about him. Explicit things written about him. His cock throbbed with every word he read, his eyes racing across the page:
Scaramouche sat next to me again today. I couldn't stop looking at him from the corner of my eye. I doubt I even heard a word the Professor said the entire lecture. All I could think about was sucking Scaramouche's cock underneath the desk. I wanted so badly to make it pulse and throb under my tongue, happily moaning as he grips my hair and forces my mouth down on it.
Scaramouche took out his cock, and stroked it as he read. You'd been staring off at nothing during class thinking about choking on his cock. How long had you been feeling this way?
During the very same class this entry was dated for, he'd been thinking about fingering you into a wet mess underneath your desk. He'd fantasized denying you your orgasm while he watched you struggle to keep your composure. You would lean in and whisper a plead for him to take you back to his dorm and make you cum.
God, he wanted to corrupt you so fucking bad. You were always so quiet, shy and innocent looking. A good girl who always did her assignments. A fucking nerd. Who knew you felt like this?
Scaramouche turned to another page. The intimate descriptions of fantasies you had about him continued. His cock felt almost painfully hard now as he read. His hips jerked to rut into his hand as he massaged the precum soaked head with his thumb.
You know that empty classroom no one uses? The one that's always locked? Every time I walk by it, I think about how much I want Scaramouche to bend me over one of the desks, his hand covering my mouth to muffle my moans while he pounds his cock into my pussy from behind. I may have to stop writing this to use my vibrator or finger myself. I am getting wet, and my clit is throbbing thinking about it while I write this.
I just know my cunt would squeeze around his cock if he spanked me, and told me to be a good girl and stay quiet while he empties his cock into me. I want him to tell me what a slut I look like with his cum seeping from my hole around his cock. What a whore I sound like muffling loud moans behind his hand.
Scaramouche had drop your notebook to put a hand over his mouth to muffle a moan as he fisted his cock. You started writing another sentence but abruptly stopped. "Ah fuck," He groaned, his cock throbbed as he pictured you desperately fingering your drooling pussy, your fingers skating wet over your clit. Twitching and moaning his name.
Biting the palm of his hand, Scaramouche picked up your notebook again. The pace of his hand increased when he read your next words:
Fuck, I can't make myself cum. No matter how much I finger myself. I need Scaramouche. I need him to make me cum. It's so frustrating. He is all I can think about. I am so in love with him that hurts.
I want to be his little fuck toy. I would worship him and his cock on my knees.
At that point, it became too much for Scaramouche. Cum spurted into into his hand. He laughed, soft and dark as he jacked himself off through his orgasm. How exhilarating to find out you wanted him just as badly he wanted you!
He took the notebook with him after he left your room. It would give him something to read until your class was over. After that, if he had it his way and he knew he would, you would end up in his room.
You wouldn't be leaving that night.
He had a fuck toy to tend to, after all.
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reiderwriter · 8 months
Text
Hating You Is The Easiest Thing I Can Do
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Summary: When your boss pulls your case out from under you and gives it right to the BAU, you're pissed. You're even more pissed when Doctor Spencer Reid suggests you can't do your job properly. After a week in his company, you decide to give him a piece of your mind
Warnings: Day One of Kinktober - Hate Sex, enemies to lovers, dom/sub, Mean!Dom!Spencer, Brat!Reader, spanking, degradation, spanking, spit kink, sir kink, vaginal fingering, slight creampie, Reader's boss is an asshole, typical office misogyny. Spencer is also an asshole, but that's just because he's a dumbass.
A/N: Special thank you to @reidmotif and @mrs-dr-reid for proofreading this one for me! I wrote this when on a major Pride and Prejudice moment, which is why there's a whole lot of plot before the sex. I hope you like the build-up just as much as the smut! <3 If you like it, don't forget to leave a like, reply, or reblog and tell me your thoughts! ((just as a reminder, apart for Sundays and Tuesdays, I'll be posting all the kinktober fics on AO3 exclusively, so check out my writing there - reiderwriter))
My requests are also back open now, so if you like my writing and have an idea, check out my request guidelines and drop me a message in my inbox! You can find the rest of my masterlist here :)
To say you were angry was an understatement. You were seething, the anger bubbling up inside of you and threatening to lash out at anyone who so much as crossed your path as you made your way down the crappy motel corridor. You'd only known Spencer Reid a week, but you could think of no one you despised more.
The FBI had always been a boys' club, you knew that. There were some goddamn strong women in your field office, of course, but you were outnumbered 10 to 1. Which was why you were so determined to do well on the first case assigned to you as lead Agent. The first week of the case, you'd made sure you were thorough. A body had been found in the park by a jogger, and you darted to the crime scene the moment you got the call. A woman in her early twenties, like you, had been raped, tortured, and then dumped here, her body posed in a demeaning way to make it seem as if she were performing a sexual act. Your entire body shuddered at the sight, but you couldn't let your coworkers see you weak so you powered through. Collecting evidence, getting an ID on the victim, interviewing potential witnesses, and yes, even breaking the news to the poor girl's family, you had been so attentive to every detail of the case and you felt you were making progress, your boss delivered a humbling blow.
"Another body has been discovered. I've invited the Behavioural Analysis Unit in from Quantico because you're in over your head." He'd told you, not even looking up at you from the file he was reading on his desk.
"What? I wasn't told about another body, why wasn't I notified?"
"I didn't think you needed to know, now that the BAU is coming in."
"So I'm off the case? That's it?"
"No, I want you to assist them in their investigation. Tell them everything you've gathered so far, get them situated in the office as best you can."
"Get them coffee when they want it? Rub their feet if they ask for it? This is bullshit, I was making progress, if you'd only have given me more time-"
"Agent, I suggest you walk out of this office right now and get your PMSing under control before I have to suspend you from fieldwork." You pressed your nails further into the beds on your palms then and bit back your tongue from replying, simply giving a terse nod and exiting the office.
It wasn't even an hour later before the new team arrived, and you offered a tense smile and welcome as you got them set up in their own office. The Unit Chief didn't seem too bad, but Aaron Hotchner couldn't exactly be described as the most welcoming of people, and you felt an instant camaraderie with JJ, the other agent who'd come into the office with him. There were more agents apparently, but they'd gone out into the field to check out the new victim and reinterview the family, something you weren't exactly happy about. But, if you were going to be their little bitch for the next week, you were at least thankful they were tolerable and polite.
"So here's everything I've got so far. I've been pretty thorough in my interrogations of potential witnesses, and there are no CCTV cameras in the general vicinity of the dump sites, so I don't think you'll find anything else there that'll aid in your profile."
" If you'd have been thorough you'd have found this though, right?" A new voice popped up from the door, and you felt yourself tense up under the sudden accusation. Looking up you saw he was holding up his phone, a picture of a strange marking on a tree lighting up the screen.
"Excuse me?"
"This was left on a tree roughly thirty feet from the first dump site. I called Rossi and Morgan and they found a similar marking near the second victim. It's a Mesopotamian symbol relating to the worship of prostitutes and sex workers to promote fertility." He spoke plainly, but all you could hear was the condescension in his tone, and your blood boiled with rage.
" Agent Y/L/N, I'm sorry about him, this is Doctor Spencer Reid, he's another member of our team." JJ introduced the man, sending him a warning glance, as if letting him know that he hadn't just put his foot in his mouth directly.
You looked at the man then, really focusing on him now instead of the pictures, and almost cursed out loud again. He was a jerk, but fuck was he attractive. Tousled hair, dark eyes, and a perfectly sculpted jaw, it was as if he were sent from hell directly to piss you off and tempt you. You pushed the attraction aside for the minute then, choosing to be the bigger person and introduce yourself.
"I'm Agent Y/N Y/L/N. And I'm sorry that I'm not an expert on Mesopotamian prostitutes, but I guess that's probably your specialty, right, Doctor?" You held out your hand for him to shake, but he just looked down at it.
"If you're referring to my doctorate, I actually didn't study classic civilizations. I hold PhDs in Math, Chemistry, and Engineering and additional BAs in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology. And I don't do handshakes." He glanced straight past you after that, walking back over to Hotch and filling him in on other things you must've overlooked during your brief time working the case.
You glared at his back, finally letting your hand drop to your side again as you let out an angry chuckle.
"Don't take it personally, Spencer is just… He’s He's not great with people. He'll warm up to you." JJ put a reassuring arm on your shoulder and you nodded. But inside you knew there was not one thing the man could do to reverse the bad opinion of him you'd just gained.
–X–
After the initial anger of having the case seeped out from beneath you wore off, you actually began enjoying your time with the BAU. You hadn't put much thought into profiling before, it usually being so far off your radar while you were working in the field office but you were actually coming to enjoy how they worked, and you'd learned a lot.
Your relationship with Spencer, however, only degraded.
Your hatred had reignited the moment you'd been joined by the rest of the BAU Team. Your boss has finally come down to greet them, and, almost as if making you pay for your earlier comments, had genuinely sent you on a coffee run for them. You could deal with the fact that the man had the most annoyingly complicated coffee order you'd ever heard of in the Bureau, but what you couldn't forgive were the sly comments you walked in on when you returned.
"Come on, Reid. That Agent is easy on the eyes, you should talk to her, get you a slice of that." You'd been introduced to Derek Morgan earlier and you'd instantly pegged him as a flirt, so this wasn't exactly shocking to you. What was a bit surprising was the other man's reply.
"If she's attractive I hadn't noticed. I've been too busy trying to clear up her mess with this case."
You walked in the door then, coffees in hand, and slammed his drink down on the table for him. You handed Morgan to him, double-checking that you'd got both of their orders right before shooting another glare at the man and walking away to find the rest of the team.
But not before hearing Morgan chastise Reid in another whisper: "God man, you gotta be nicer to the kid…"
To say that your working relationship had soured totally after your two personal encounters with the man was simply an untruth. You didn't have a working relationship, you had a working rivalry.
From then on, you'd slyly interrupt the man when he was speaking, telling him to cut his genius rambles in half, that you didn't have all day to sit around and wait for him to stutter his way through his theory while there was a murderer on the loose.
He didn't hold back either, constantly asking you questions he knew you didn't know the answers to, just to smile slyly down at you and make you admit that you weren't as good as him. It was getting so detrimental to the office atmosphere that you had to be genuinely separated after only three days, Hotchner bringing you into the field with him on multiple occasions and forcing Reid to stay behind with JJ to work on a geographical profile.
You'd been with Hotchner at a family interview, working with him to gain details of the second victim's actions and whereabouts leading up to her murder to establish a timeline when you got a call.
Excusing yourself from the room, you quickly picked up the call.
"This is Agent Y/L/N."
"Hotch isn't picking up his phone." That was all the explanation you got from the man on the other side of the phone, his voice instantly grating.
"Yes, I'd assume he isn't, Doctor Reid, because we are currently interviewing a bereaved mother and father and he put his phone on silent. Is there something you need?"
"I need to talk to Hotch."
"Well, you called me. What do you need?" You heard him breathe out a frustrated sigh on the other side of the line, and you rolled your eyes, slightly enjoying being this stubborn and getting under his skin.
"Just tell him we're ready to give the profile, okay?" He hung on you after that and you cursed him down the line, receiving nothing back but the empty beeps of the dial tone.
–X–
It didn't take long after delivering the profile to get your guy, but as he hadn't been in the middle of committing any felonies when you picked him up, you'd had to spend a few days in the interrogation rooms.
Hotch had taken a crack at him and gotten nowhere, and so had Rossi and Emily and Morgan. JJ had been the one to make the arrest, so she went in last and still came out with nothing much. He hadn't layered up yet, as they'd suspected he wouldn't, too egotistical to allow anyone else into the room that he thought he was going to talk himself out of.
"We're getting nowhere with this, Hotch. I think I have an idea that could get him to start talking." Reid said as you all stared at the man through the one-way glass.
"What, you think you can charge in there and get him to talk?" It was petty, but it'd been a stressful week, and he was used to this flow of conversation between the two of you.
"No, you are. Hotch, she fits his type, she's attractive, same build and coloring as the previous two victims. I think it'd work." You scoffed at his suggestion.
"Oh so now you think I'm attractive? I thought you hadn't noticed because you were, what, too busy cleaning up my mess?" You crossed your arms as he gave you an incredulous look, and you realized that he didn't think you'd heard him.
"Spencer's right, Y/N." Hotch nodded, looking between the two of you to see if he needed to pull you apart to keep you from fighting or to keep you from jumping each other. You personally weren't sure which you'd like most at that point, cursing yourself as you let your eyes trail down his body.
"It's going to excite him having you so close, you should pop a few of those buttons, too," Reid suggested looking down at your chest as you scoffed and crossed your arms.
"Oh you'd really like that," you mumbled under your breath, but a swift look from Hotch had you shutting your mouth again as he began to brief you.
Going in you felt a surge of pettiness seep through you. You were going to nail this guy, get him to talk about every little nasty thing he did to those girls, and prove to your boss that you could do this when every member of the BAU had tried and failed. But a small, dim, and annoying reminder at the back of your head whispered in your ear that you'd be pleasing Spencer then as well. Proving him right. You weren't sure if you wanted to succeed to hear him or your boss say "good job" to you after you finally succeeded, but when you imagined it with him, he was a whole lot closer, right in your ear, body pressed against yours.
You focused on your anger over your attraction and pushed into the room, ready to stare down a monster and escape unharmed.
–X–
It had worked, of course. It had taken a few hours of building rapport but you'd done it. You'd had him eating out the palm of your hand while he confessed to the three murders you knew about and an extra four that you didn't.
A day of retrieving bodies later and by 10 pm, the case was finally closed.
"Well done, kid, you really got him in that interview. That was some great work." Morgan nudged your elbow as he grabbed his duffle, exiting the makeshift office.
"Don't forget we're getting drinks at the cocktail bar in half an hour. Shower off that mud and change into a hot dress, Agent, and I'll buy you your first shot." Emily called back to you from the exit too, leaving you in a fit of giggles as you promised her you would.
Once they'd all gone, you started packing up your things ready to leave yourself when there was another knock at the door.
" Hey, I need to grab my bag." Reid stood in the door awkwardly, and your smile dropped into a politely neutral face as you nodded to him.
"Don't let me stop you, Doc."
"Spencer."He said, stepping a bit closer to you.
"What?"
"I want you to call me Spencer. You keep calling me Doctor or Doc, I want you to call me Spencer."
"No. Doctor Reid is just fine for me."
"And what if I want more?" He grabbed your wrist as you turned to go, using a bit too much force and leaving you stumbling into him, hitting his chest as you looked up at him, your noses almost touching with the proximity.
"Let me go," you growled, but his grip loosened and you didn't move an inch.
"What if I want more?" He asked again, a little more insistent this time, his eyes dark in the dim room, expression unreadable.
"Why should I care what you want, Doctor Reid?"
"Because I think you want it, too. Because I think that despite all the odds, you want me just as much as I want you."
Your anger burst out of you in a sarcastic laugh then at his presumptuous words.
"Despite all the odds? What odds are those Spencer? You treat me like shit, ignoring me, refusing to even shake my hand, and downplaying the hard fucking work I put in before you got here? God, you are so fucking narcissistic." You finally stepped away from him then, turning away to regain your composure.
"Me? I'm not the one who missed some vital fucking evidence in a murder investigation, Y/N, so I'm sorry I wasn't the most welcoming person, but God if we're talking egos, you should probably check yourself."
"Forget it, you're impossible. I really tried to be nice to you, but more fool me for making messes you had to clean up."
"Are you still stuck on that? Y/N, I'm sorry, but Derek just has a way of-" He stepped closer to you again and you could feel the oxygen being sucked from your lungs.
"Don't you dare blame this on Morgan. You're attracted to me and you fucking despise that, and it's none of Morgan’s fault. Now please, just get out of this fucking office and go back to your motel room." You practically hissed those last words at him, holding back the urge to scream in frustration. Your lips were so close now, as his chest heaved, hands clenched by his sides as he resisted the urge to grab you.
"Forgive me… for suggesting something so obviously repulsive to you." With that, he brushed past you and walked out, leaving you reeling at his almost confession, head light from the lack of air. He'd taken your breath with him as he left the room.
–X–
The promise of free shots had convinced you to get back out to the bar as promised, not letting Reid and his fickle moods control when and where you'd be enjoying yourself.
You finally showed up at the bar and were greeted by hugs from JJ and Emily, already one drink in as they immediately handed you a shot from the bar. Guiding you back to the table, you paused as you saw him there.
Morgan was sat at the table, happily chatting away with Reid, who'd since grown quiet, eyes meeting yours before leaving to rake down your frame. You resisted the urge to cover yourself, confidently standing tall as he devoured you with his eyes. Changing out of your work clothes, you'd decided that you needed some fun tonight, donning a short red dress, barely hitting the tops of your thighs, hugging your curves tightly, and pushing your chest up so it nearly spilled out completely. You'd completed the look with thigh-high black boots and a red lip, looking the absolute image of lust - or anger - personified.
"Whew mama, you look good, Y/N." Morgan greeted you, standing up to give you a kiss on the cheek. Reid still said nothing but kept his eyes trained on you as he took another sip of his drink.
"I was promised shots and dancing, I think I'm dressed pretty appropriately don't you think?" You smiled and giggled up at Morgan, letting your touch linger on him a little longer to see if it would spur Reid into action.
"Have I ever told you about my very good friend Penelope Garcia? I think you two would get along just fine."
The rest of the night continued in a similar vein. You'd stepped out onto the dance floor with Emily and JJ, letting whatever man wanted to sidle up close, begging one of them to be a distraction from the man whose eyes were boring into you from the other side of the room. It didn't work. Their hands were on your hips, guiding you to the sound of the music but in your head, all you saw was him, doing the same.
It didn't help that he was getting hit on constantly from his perch beside Morgan, and you watched with a bitter feeling at the bottom of your stomach as women tried, unsuccessfully, to get him to pay attention to them. After another frustrating invitation for a tryst with a local man, you excused yourself from the dance floor, finding Morgan in the bar, letting him know that you were calling it a night.
"Where's Reid?" You asked, trying and failing to sound casual as you glanced around the now crowded bar for signs of him.
"He left like ten minutes ago. Said he was tired and went back to the motel."
"Was he…" You didn't want to finish the question, not knowing which answer you'd prefer, but Morgan filled in the gaps himself with a wide grin.
"Alone? Yes, kid. Here, it's the address of the motel we're staying at and his room number." You hesitated before grabbing the paper and grabbing your stuff, practically running from the bar and hopping in the nearest taxi.
–X–
That's how you found yourself stomping down the corridor of the motel, pounding on his door at 1 a.m., unashamed in your brazen actions. He opened the door, slightly shocked to see you there, and you pushed your way inside and turned on him as you shut the door.
"What the fuck was all of that?" You demanded as soon as he turned back to you. His shirt was open now, jacket and tie discarded on the floor somewhere deeper into the room, but you forced yourself to look up into his eyes, away from the pale plains of his skin.
"What was what, Y/N?"
"You, staring at me like that the whole night and then just leaving."
"Did you want me to stay?"
"I want you to stop answering my questions with questions, Reid. This is bullshit, you can't act like a dick to me all week and then look at me like I'm a piece of meat you want to rip apart, for fucks sake."
"You made it very clear earlier tonight that you wanted no part of this, Y/N. Are you saying I should've done something else?"
"That's another fucking question, Spencer! If you don't start actually talking to me, I swear to god, I'll-" You ran a hand through your hair, and when you looked up again, he was closer than ever. You backed up into the wall, but he followed you, pressing a leg between your own. Slowly and with that condescending grin plastered across his face, he drawled out his next words.
"You'll what?"
Your lips crashed against his with the fury of your frustrations, a mess of teeth and tongue and biting anger as you surged forward into him.
With a rough push of your hips, he slammed you back into the wall, taking charge of the situation, coaxing his tongue into your mouth, battling you for control, and winning. Grabbing you by the neck he slowly pulled his lips away from yours, leaving you gasping for breath.
"Don't be such a brat, Y/N. When I ask you questions, it's because I want answers." You moaned as you tried to regain his lips, but he chuckled and kept you pinned.
"Tell me, baby, what should I have done earlier instead? Got down on my knees to beg your forgiveness, or thrown you over that desk and used you like a cheap little whore? I think I know which one you prefer."
You moaned at his words, but kept your mouth twisted in a grimace, choosing not to answer. He got tired of waiting, and, with a swiftness you didn't know he possessed, twisted you around so your hands were planted against the wall, your chest pushing against it too as he pulled your hips up and out, effectively baring your pantie-clad pussy to him as your dress pushed up and over your ass all by itself.
"So fucking slutty. You let all those men in that club touch you while you stared at me the entire time." He ran his hands across your ass massaging you underneath your underwear before pulling his hands away again and grabbing your hips. He pushed his clothed cock against you from behind and you moaned at how hard and big he felt already.
"Was this what you wanted, brat?"
"Go fuck yourself."
"I think you'd much prefer it if I fucked you, don't you think?" He turned you around again, lifting one of your legs up to wrap around him, the new angle pressing your core further into his cock.
"Open your mouth, now." Against your better judgment, your body reacted to him quickly, your tongue dropping out of your mouth as he ground his cock into your core, effectively dry-humping you. With a swift motion, he spat in your mouth, your eyes going wide as you instinctively shut your mouth and swallowed.
"Good girl," he stroked your hair, lifting you up and carrying you to the bed. His lips locked with yours as you tasted his spit on your lips, letting him take control and move you in any way he pleased.
"But you've been a brat," he said pulling away. "And brats need to be punished."
With that he forced you over his knee, pulling your panties down as he positioned your hips higher, your ass raised. He fisted one hand into your hair and began softly stroking your ass with the other.
"You're going to count for me, baby. If you lose count, we'll start again. With each number, I'll tell you what you did wrong, okay?"
"Fuck, yes, yes sir." With another soft touch, he pulled his hand up and bought it back again down sharply, letting it cup your ass as you hissed from the sting.
"O-One."
"That was for being a brat in the office. Being so confident you missed some vital evidence that was staring you right in the face."
He did it again, and you squirmed under his touch.
"Two."
"That was for teasing me in front of Hotch. Making me get hard right there in the office before you went to interrogate that creep."
"That made you hard?" You gasped out as he cracked out another slap to your ass. "Three."
"That was for talking. You need to stop fucking talking." He stroked your ass again, delivering a fourth, fifth, and sixth blow in quick succession as you felt yourself leak your arousal all over his lap.
"That was for dressing like a little whore tonight. That was for flirting with Morgan. That was for letting another man touch you. What do you have to say for yourself now, brat?" Your breaths stuttered out of you as you tried to compose yourself, confident that he'd finished your punishment now.
"G-Go…. FuckFuck yourself." He growled and threw you back on the bed, ripping your dress off over your head and letting his lips return to yours as he trailed his hand to between your legs, finally pushing two fingers inside of you as you moaned and writhed beneath him.
" I hate you," you moaned in his ear as his lips trailed down to your breasts.
"You have a funny way of showing it." Your orgasm was rapidly approaching, so close you could practically taste it. He sensed it as well, though, and pulled his fingers out of you before you could reach that bliss.
"You thought it would be that easy, brat?" he whispered in your ear with a low chuckle before flipping you over to your front and thrusting his fingers back into you from behind, causing another moan to rip from your throat, uncontrollably loud in the otherwise silence of the motel at night.
Unzipping his pants and freeing his cock, you felt the weight of it on your ass as he rubbed his precum against your now bright red asscheeks.
"You're going to look so pretty with my cum decorating your ass baby. It's going to make your ass feel better, too."
"You're disgusting," you spit at him, but your hips push harder into his dick, trying desperately to capture him inside of you and force him to use you.
"No more talking, bitch. Take my fingers." He pushed a hand into your mouth and you started twirling your tongue around them, using your distraction to finally violently thrust his dick all the way inside you. You screamed at the sudden filling, cumming around his cock in an instant, trying to milk him for all he was worth. But he clamped a hand down over your mouth so that all that fell from your face was escaped tears and muffled pleas for more.
"Gonna use you like this baby, gonna make you admit you love me."
His thrusts gained a steady pace as your brain emptied beneath him, desperate for more of the pleasure his body was supplying you with. He released your mouth then, content that all your energy seemed to be spent on pushing your ass back into his, listening to the wet, sloppy sounds of your activity.
"Do you like that, brat? You like me making you feel like this, huh?" He slapped your ass again as he thrust, and you moaned back with a nod.
"Yes, Spencer, don't stop… Don't stop." You moaned again, another orgasm rolling over your body, causing you to clench unconsciously around his cock.
"So good baby, you're responding so well to my cock." He trailed a hand underneath you to your clit and started rubbing it in time to his thrusts.
"One more for me. One more and I'll pull out, okay? Just one more."
"I can't, Spencer I can't do it.." You whined underneath him, face fully buried in the motel pillows. You were surprised he even heard you through the tears as the material.
"Yes you can, baby, look you're so close already, just do one more."
"I hate you," you moaned again, feeling your third and final orgasm wash over you, your eyes rolling back in your head as your body started twitching and didn't stop. You felt a small twitch from him too, as he finished thrusting inside of you, letting a little bit of his cum escape into you before pulling out and decorating your ass with his ejaculation.
He fell by the side of you and gasped desperately for a few minutes, before grabbing a hot wet towel from the bathroom and cleaning your ass off.
"Spencer…" you croak out eventually, regaining some clarity, but still not moving much from your spot in his bed.
"Spencer, I don't hate you."
"I know. I don't hate you either. Which is probably for the best."
"What? Why?"
"Hotch just requested your transfer to the Quantico Office so you could start training with the BAU. You did a good job this week, Y/N." Your eyes started watering again and you gently pushed away tears as he laughed at you, asking why you were crying.
"I'm not happy," you joked.
"I just realized that means I have to work with you more." You both laughed at that. You didn't hate each other exactly, but that didn't mean you could work together well either.
And you didn't want to if this was the outcome of your bickering and hatred.
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purple-babygirl · 2 months
Text
don't call me daddy IV
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x little!f!reader
Word count: 5,540
Summary : In a world where littles are openly themselves, they volunteer to help and be helped by willing caregivers. In spite of himself, Bucky finds himself stuck with one and to keep the nagging away, he has to learn how to be around her with everything that that entails.
Warnings: crying, a flu, coughing, shots, age regression
A/N: forgive me for the lateness with this one. i was very sick, like bed-ridden sick, and when i got a little better i got to writing right away. please be kind to me with this one, i'm still high on meds:" please enjoy xx💜💜
~
“Call me daddy.”
“What?” She was suddenly pulling away as if Bucky was made up of scorching metal.
“Isn’t that what you wanted?” He asked with a small smile, wiping any residue tears on his face.
What she wanted… he was only suggesting that she called him daddy because he thought it was what she wanted? Was this his way of returning the favor because she hugged him after a nightmare?
Now she was really hurt.
Bucky was unknowingly emphasizing the fact that he didn’t want this type of relationship, didn’t want her. He was only doing it to show gratitude.
“No.” She shook her head, getting up from the floor.
“No?” Bucky was genuinely confused as he followed her with his eyes.
He thought he was finally making things right, giving her what she wanted.
“I wanna go back.”
“What?!”
“I wanna go back, please take me back.” Her voice wasn’t even sad or frantic, only small and disheartened.
“Back where?! The couch is right there if you wanna go!” Bucky became angry again.
He felt rejected and he felt small. Was it his touch that made her pull back? Was it the daddy thing? Was he so repulsive?
“No, back, out of here.”
“Back where?! It’s the middle of the night!” Bucky raised his voice in frustration, the nightmare nerves barely out of his body.
Has she lost her mind? Why was she acting like this now? What was he supposed to do to please her and her little mind?
“Take me back to Mrs. Morrison,” she insisted calmly as she collected her slippers and stashed them back in her bag.
He looked at her with wide eyes and an open mouth, not getting what happened or where he went wrong.
She wasn’t even tearing up, it was like a switch has flipped inside of her.
“Just— just talk to me, okay? What happened?” Bucky fervently needed her to stop, needed to understand.
“Bucky was right. This isn’t gonna work. Please just take me back.”
Her words reopened Bucky’s wounds that her sweet gestures had once closed. What did she mean “isn’t gonna work”? Was he just deemed irredeemable? Again?
“But why?!”
“I just wanna go back.” Was all she gave him; no explanation and no reasons.
Bucky wouldn’t understand.
“You know what? Fine! I’ll take you back first thing in the morning. Go back to the fucking couch, stay away from me!”
She silently got the wolf stuffie, leaving it on the kitchen counter, and went back, no crying and no trials to correct him on his choice of bad words.
Did she really want to leave? Was she really going to leave him come morning?
~
When it was lit up enough, Bucky went for a run, trying to blow off some steam because he felt like he was about to explode.
Why did he let her in? He shouldn’t have done that. She didn’t deserve to get this close, no one did.
Did he seriously think he was accepted and understood by this stranger after 7 days of time together?
No matter what the purpose she was serving was, she could never understand how hard Bucky had had it.
Still, something kept pulling him to her. Something inside of him didn’t want her to leave him. Not now that he was used to her; that he wanted to be used to her.
It's been only a week and Bucky was ready to give human relationships another chance. She made him feel like healing wasn’t a faraway dream.
He was going to try and talk to her one last time and if she still wanted to leave, he would gladly let her.
When he opened his door, she was dressed and waiting for Bucky on the couch, ready to go.
“So you were serious about leaving?” Bucky asks as he kicks his shoes off.
“Yes. Bucky is gonna take me back, right?”
“If that’s really what you want?”
She didn’t trust her voice so she just nodded.
“Why?”
“Just because.”
“Talk to me like I’m talking to you!” Bucky snapped.
She remained silent this time, not ready for a fight.
“Why do you wanna leave? What did I do?”
“Bucky didn’t do anything.”
“Then what is it?!”
“That is it.”
“What?!”
“Bucky didn’t do anything. Bucky didn’t even look at Doll’s file. Bucky never even called Doll Doll.” Only now did her tears come back, rolling down her cheeks with ease as she spilled out all that she’s been holding inside of her, “Bucky never wanted Doll.”
“I— I didn’t have time to look at the file. We were in a hurry so I picked the first one in the batch!” Bucky tried to explain, but quickly realized what he'd said.
A sob escaped her at the revelation that she was picked at random, that it could’ve been anyone else and that he really never wanted her.
“That’s not what I meant. I— listen, at first maybe I didn’t want you, but it’s different now!”
“Bucky never even picked me?” She cried, her broken voice crushing his heart.
“I—”
“Please take me back.” She wiped at her face, trying to steady her breathing.
“But—”
“Please, Bucky, please.”
The way she begged him with teary eyes and a shaky voice made Bucky stand up despite himself to put his shoes back on to take her back.
He might’ve not gotten a chance to explain himself, but he’s done her enough damage and he wasn’t going to continue being the reason she cried when she has been the reason he stopped.
“Let’s go.” Bucky pursed his lips and opened the door for her, her bag in hand, knowing it will never be the same when he came back.
~
“Doll, now that you’re big at least tell me anything, dear. Did he do anything—”
“He didn’t do anything, Mrs. Morrison. I promise you. Bucky was nothing but a gentleman with me.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s nothing. I just think I wasn’t ready. I shouldn’t have listed my little self as ready.” She shook her head with a polite smile.
Mrs. Morrison wasn’t buying it, but she couldn’t push her anymore.
“Alright, dear. I’ll go finish the report so Bucky’s therapist can get her copy in the morning.”
“Mrs. Morrison, please,” she held the older woman’s hand imploringly, “Bucky didn’t do but good. Make sure you’re just to him in your report.”
“Okay, doll. Whatever you say, dear.” She woman shook her head, giving up the argument before standing up and leaving the room.
It wasn’t the full truth, but she did believe she wasn’t ready. She wasn’t going to be ready for a long time, so it was better if she just went back home and let herself be grounded a little.
~
“Please, I need to see her.” Bucky begged in front of Mrs. Morrison’s desk.
“Not before you tell me what you did to her, Mr. Barnes!”
“I— I didn’t do anything.”
“That’s what she said too, but I know it’s not the truth!”
“Wait, what? I— please let me see her.”
“She’s not here, Sergeant Barnes.”
“What? Where is she?”
“Home,” the woman replied shortly, still mad at Bucky.
“I thought that was where they lived?”
The woman shook her head in disappointment, “you never read your copy of the file, did you?”
Bucky remained silent, too embarrassed to speak. Why did everyone keep asking about the damn file!
“No, they don’t live here. She went back to her life at her house.”
“Well, can you give me the address?”
“Of course, not! That’s private information and you two don’t even seem to have ended on good terms!”
“Please? I need to fix this.”
“You already had time to do that, Mr. Barnes.”
“Well… At least give me a chance to apologize.”
“I don’t know.” The woman hesitated.
“Please, I’ll do anything.” Bucky begged sincerely.
“Anything?” Mrs. Morrison smiled suddenly, making Bucky worry a little, but he meant his words nonetheless.
“Anything.”
~
“Corgi, calm down!” Bucky heard her sweet laugh as she approached the dog’s barks.
“You call your corgi Corgi?” He asked her with a smile.
“Bucky, what are you doing here?” Her smile quickly disappeared and a surprised frown replaced it.
“I—”
“Okay, I finished moving the new planters to the right side like you wanted— hello?” The man who cut Bucky off was offering him a hand.
Bucky shook it coldly, his signature frown staring the man down, “hey.”
“I’m Adam,” the man said with a friendly smile.
“Sergeant James Barnes.”
“Bucky, this is Adam, my best friend and neighbor, Adam, this is Bucky… a friend.” She introduced them, not sure of what to say about Bucky.
Meanwhile, Bucky felt something weigh down on him. Was it the fact that he wished she said more than just “a friend”? Was it the presence of this Adam guy? Was that… jealousy?!
“Right, so I’m gonna go now, but call me if you need anything, okay?” Adam said, looking at them both suspiciously.
“I will. Thank you for today, Adam. You’re the best.” She gave the man a hug, smiling from ear to ear as she did it, too.
That was a smile Bucky has never seen.
“I know I know. Bye, Corgi! Bye, Sergeant, nice to meet you!” Adam shouted as he walked out of her porch.
Bucky only nodded even though he knew the man couldn’t see him. He didn’t care if he was rude. Who was that anyway?
She was expecting Bucky to talk when Adam was gone but he just stood there, fiddling with the bag in his hand as he stared at her, so she didn’t say anything either.
She was done initiating. If he came all the way here on his own, he could start a conversation on his own.
“Who was that?”
“Really? You came all the way here to ask me that?”
He stuttered and swallowed, knowing fully well that he had no right to such a question.
“You seem different.”
“You mean big?” She smiled sadly, noticing how much more comfortable Bucky was dealing with her like that.
Bucky nodded guiltily, scratching the back of his head.
“Yeah, I do have a life and responsibilities after all.” She shrugged, gesturing to her house and the puppy by her feet.
She was disappointed to say the least. First, he gave her a terrible week with him, then he returned her and never looked back and now he was on her porch for no clear reason or explanation, questioning her and her life?
Still, she felt a spark of hope in her chest at the fact that he was standing before her. There must’ve been a reason he came and it couldn’t be so he could fight more.
Bucky felt embarrassed, tongue-tied with guilt as he’s forgotten everything he has been wanting to say.
Then the sky started speaking for him, thundering loudly and making her jump with a hand on her heart.
“Oh, it’s gonna rain. Let’s go inside.”
For some reason, he assumed she was talking to the puppy but when she kept looking at him, Bucky gratefully moved his feet.
~
Her house was the epitome of coziness. It was a true home and it was nothing like Bucky’s.
It had actual furniture, colorful pieces he knew were carefully picked. It had wallpaper and picture frames and kitchenware and cute mugs and plates.
Only now did he know how much shit she could’ve given him for the place he made her stay in, but she didn’t.
“Bucky!”
“Yes?”
“I asked about your favorite tea.” She smiled, motioning to a number of varieties on her shelves.
“A coffee would be fine.”
“I’ll just make you earl grey with me.” She shrugged, ignoring his choice for a coffee at this relatively late hour of the evening.
“Hey!”
“It’s my house, my rules, old man!”
Wow! Big her was kind of feisty and it was making Bucky smile.
“What do you have there?” She asked, looking at the small plastic bag that Bucky’s been carrying in his hand.
“Oh, I— this is for you.” He handed her the bag, cheeks burning as he was still brand new when it came to such gestures.
“Oreos! And wolfie!” She called out happily when she looked inside the bag, “thank you so much!” She squeezed the tips of his fingers, smiling at him like he’d gotten her a rare diamond.
When she let go of his hand to open the package and taste the cookies, Bucky felt fear settle in his chest at the idea of having lost her forever.
He watched her try to hide the hug she was giving the white stuffed wolf before slipping it to her curious dog, “careful, Corgi.”
She didn’t lecture or blame him about his treatment of her, yes, nor did she even bring up the week she stayed at his house, but would she be willing to forgive him? Would she give him another chance?
Instead of screaming at him, she was sitting him down on a comfortable couch that had a soft blanket draped over it and serving him tea and cake. What kind of angel was she?
“If you don’t like it, I’ll make you coffee. But taste it first,” she set the tray with tea cups and a plate with a couple of cake slices on the little wooden coffee table and Bucky knew the smell of this tray was the only thing missing from her living room.
Now it was all perfect. It suited her so well.
“I made lime key cake this morning so you’re in luck. It goes really well with earl grey,” she told him, trying to get him to talk, to tell her why he was at her place a week later at 9 in the evening.
But he only nodded.
She didn’t push him. She has done enough coaxing and enough pushing. She didn’t have to do that anymore. If Bucky wanted to talk, he would have to talk on his own.
But he didn’t.
An hour later, she was getting sleepy and the rain was pouring even harder.
“I— I better go.” He stood up, patting his pockets nervously as if to make sure his belongings were in place.
So he came all the way here for nothing? He found her house and rode on his motorcycle all the way here for nothing?
“No way, you can’t drive your motor cycle in this rain!”
“I’m a super soldier, I don’t get sick,” Bucky argued with a smile, heart swelling at the idea that she still cared for him.
“I don’t care. The roads are slippery. It’s dangerous!”
“But—”
“No buts. You can have my bed, let me show you the room,” she said, never giving him space for a reply as she led the way to her bedroom.
“You really don’t have to. I can take the couch.” Or the floor
“The couch is mine. Corgi cries at night and doesn’t like to sleep alone. He’s still just a puppy.”
“Why don’t you just move his crate to your bedroom?”
“Because there’s a system in this house, Sergeant. We’re disciplined people.” She smiled playfully, “good night.”
And just like that, Bucky was alone in her bedroom, with her bed and sheets and blankets, where all the pillows smelled like her hair shampoo and the air was light and sweet. He was in heaven.
Bucky took his jacket off, draping it over the armchair by her vanity and her perfumes caught his eye.
He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, but he couldn’t help himself as he picked up the first bottle and neared it to his nose.
Oh, lord, was this sexy. He imagined himself eating her up if he was to smell this perfume on her skin. It was captivating and it went well with her playful grown up personality.
He tried another bottle and it was a softer scent that he knew all too well. It was the one she wore when she was staying at his house. It smelt angelic, soft and welcoming.
Bucky had to stop himself from going down the line of perfumes because he didn’t think he could keep going.
He’d better go to bed and try to catch a few hours of sleep before the mind attacks started.
Grabbing a pillow that smelled like her, Bucky made himself as comfortable as could be on the wooden floor next to her bed, draping her overly soft blanket on his body.
~
“You call it a disciplined house but you don’t even have a dining table,” Bucky teased as he helped her bring the rest of the plates to the coffee table.
He was right actually. She lied last night. She could easily take Corgi to the bedroom with her, but what kind of hospitality would that be to give Bucky the couch when it was his first time visiting?
“At least my coffee table has space for more than 2 noodle cups,” she teased right back, hardly biting a smile.
Bucky raised an eyebrow at her sassiness, smiling like an idiot at how easy she made everything.
Talking was easy around her. Existing was easy around her. Breathing was easy around her. And oh did he miss her.
“So…” she trailed, pouring orange juice in Bucky’s glass.
She couldn’t stay silent anymore. She had to understand why Bucky found her house and came to her after he’d clearly proven he didn’t want her. She wanted and tried to be the bigger person, but if he had something to say, she was ready to hear it now.
“I— I came here to say I’m sorry,” Bucky finally said the words that have been sitting on the back of his tongue for so long.
“Bucky…” she locked her eyes with his for a second, unable to read him, “you didn’t have to come all the way here. I didn’t tell Mrs. Morrison anything.”
The way she reassured him broke his heart. It was as if she wholeheartedly believed that all Bucky cared about was the final report.
But he cared about so much more. He cared about fixing this. He cared about her.
“I know. I did.”
“What?!”
“I told her everything.”
“Bucky— why?”
“I had to make it right.”
“Well, what did she say?” She chewed her lower lip nervously, worried everything has been ruined for Bucky.
“She made me serve a few hours at the institution and only when she got everyone’s approval did she agree to give me your address.”
“Everyone’s approval of what?” She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.
“Of my storytelling skills,” Bucky replied proudly, putting some cheese on her plate for her when he noticed her freeze.
“Your storytelling— what?!” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, a huge smile breaking on her face.
“I spent a few nights reading bedtime stories to the residents there and I’ll have you know I did a pretty good job, though most of them wanted lullabies so I stole some of yours—”
“Hold on! You, Bucky Barnes, read bedtime stories and sang lullabies to littles at the institution?”
“Yes, I did.” Bucky nodded with a shrug.
“You did all of this so you could have my address?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I missed you, doll.”
“Doll?” Her eyes instantly teared up at the sole use of the name coming from him.
“And to tell you that I got to meet everyone that was available at the same time you were and none of them could ever compare. They’re all amazing people, but none of them made me feel like you’ve made me feel in that short week,” Bucky admitted softly, eyes hesitant to leave his fingers.
“I was terrible to you and you didn’t deserve any of it. I’m sorry. I know now that I should’ve been better.”
“Bucky, it’s okay,” she said with a content smile, simply satisfied with his presence as she passed him the bread. That apology was genuinely enough for her.
“No, doll, it’s not. I— I did the opposite of everything a caregiver should’ve done. It's just… you made me nervous, scared.” Bucky admitted.
“I scared you?” She scoffed in surprise. She wasn’t expecting this one.
“Yes. The way you were fully yourself, the way you weren’t afraid to show it, the way you did the effort to relieve yourself of whatever you were suffering from, it all scared me. How you openly cried when you needed to. It scared me because I didn’t know how to be like you. I didn’t know how to choose trust and kindness again after everything that had happened to me. Your courage scared me.”
“Oh, Bucky.” Tears rolled down her face as she desperately felt the need to hold him and kiss every inch of him better, “why didn’t you talk to me? I would’ve understood.”
“I tried… that day… but talking about it made me wanna close up on myself even more. It made me more scared. It wasn’t easy. It isn’t easy. And I can’t help it,” Bucky’s voice trembled as he fought his own tears.
He couldn’t believe he said those words out loud to someone else.
She left her seat and went to sit next to Bucky on the couch, her hands finding his and holding onto them for dear life.
“But when I came home to an empty living room after dropping you off at the institution, I knew what I'd lost. I realized what an asshole I’ve been to you. And I missed you. I missed you so much when I closed the door and you weren’t on the couch looking at me,” he poured his heart out to her with tears in his eyes.
She squeezed his hand more, trying to hug his fingers with hers but they were too short to fully cover his hands.
“You don’t have to give me another chance, but I felt like I could’ve died if I didn’t tell you how sorry I was and am. I’m sorry I didn’t give myself time to understand you and appreciate you for everything that you were, doll. I’m sorry I was so stupid and let you slip away from my hands. I’m sorry I was undeserving of your kindness and softness and love,” Bucky told her with tears pouring down his face, matching hers as she finally got to listen to all that he had to say.
“I really am sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t know how to be a good daddy to you and I’m sorry I didn’t try to learn. It’s all my fault because you, doll, deserve someone who would bust their ass trying for you,” Bucky sighed, “but if you’d let me, I’ll spend as much time as you’ll allow me doing that.”
“Thank you for finding me.” She threw herself in his arms and Bucky felt his soul come back to him as he held her tight to his body.
“Thank you for welcoming me back in despite everything I’ve put you through. I know I don’t deserve it.” Bucky squeezed her closer, the smell of her hair calming his senses.
“You’re welcome.” She pulled back to wipe his tears away, giving him a smile prettier than anything he’s ever seen, “now let’s eat before the eggs go cold.” She wiped her eyes quickly before grabbing the spoon and putting some eggs on Bucky’s plate.
“Does that smile mean you forgive me, doll?” Bucky asked hopefully.
“I forgive you, Sarge.” She smiled at him, what was in her heart showing in her eyes.
“You won’t regret it,” he promised, putting some food in his mouth to stop any upcoming tears.
They ate silently in peace for a second before Bucky spoke out.
“Seriously though, who was that Adam guy?!”
“Way to ruin a moment, Bucky,” she teased.
But Bucky didn’t smile. He remained silent waiting for her answer with a tiny frown.
“I told you he’s my best friend and he lives next door.”
 Bucky’s frown deepened slightly. So that man got to see her every day huh?
“With his wife,” she added, biting back a smile as she watched his face relax.
“Don’t toy with me like that, doll.”
“I couldn’t help it. This is all new to me and I’m having fun!”
“Does he come here a lot?”
“Yes, Bucky. It’s what friends do, they visit,” she laughed.
“I don’t see Sam that often and we’re fine.” He shrugged unconvincingly, making her laugh more.
“He’s a good man, you’ll come to like him. Plus, he helped me a lot those past weeks and took care of my garden and Corgi while I was away so I owe him.”
“So I’m seeing a farmer now?” Bucky teased.
“Oh look who’s not so quiet anymore!” She teased back with a giggle, “at least my fridge never runs out of tomatoes.”
“Can I ask you something?” Bucky asked, his face serious again.
She nodded in reply, a smile gracing her patient features.
“Why did it bother you so much when I told you to call me daddy?”
She hummed, letting go of her fork.
“It’s okay if you don’t wanna answ—”
“It made me feel like you were returning a favor. Doing something because you felt like you had to do it, like it was the right thing to do, but not because you really wanted it. Yes, I wanted to call you daddy with my whole heart, but only if you wanted it too. It hurt because at the time I knew you still hadn’t accepted me for who I was and was just saying that so you could repay me for the hug I was giving you.”
“I’m so sorry.” Bucky shock his head in remorse, “I will never understand how you managed to put up with me for a whole week.”
“It’s because I know what it’s like to feel unwanted, Bucky. I know what it feels like to be unloved and unaccepted, especially by those who should give you unconditional love.”
“Family?” Bucky asked with a sad smile.
She nodded with a similar smile, “I know what it’s like to be more than your pain and anger with others only seeing the snapping and frowning. Little me doesn’t want anyone else to feel unloved like that because she knows how bad it all is. So she gives. She’s patient and she’s kind and sometimes I don’t think I could’ve accessed that part of myself if it wasn’t for her.”
“How so?”
“Grown ups are more cautious because they always have the consequences to things like vulnerability right in front of their eyes. We’re more likely to be afraid to show our hearts because we know we could get hurt bad because of it. Little me isn’t scared of that. She wakes up brand new every day. She wears her heart on her sleeve and trusts her love to do the magic.”
“You’re an amazing person.” Bucky raised her hand to his lips to press a timid kiss without much thought, “I guess I have a lot to learn from you, doll.”
“Don’t say stuff like that!” She whined playfully, cheeks going hot as she turned away shyly, “plus, do you have a death wish?” She raised a playful eyebrow.
“It’s true though— what?”
“I didn’t give you permission to kiss me,” she teased, reminding him of the time she kissed his cheek on her first day at his house.
Bucky smiled sheepishly, whispering out an apology even though he knew she was joking.
Bucky stopped himself when she started coughing abruptly.
She’s been coughing a little here and there since morning, but he didn’t think anything of it.
She shook her head, still coughing as she ran to the bathroom, needing to find any sort of cold medicine. She knew what this was.
Bucky hurried behind her, “what’s wrong?”
In a second, she was bending forward, coughing her heart out.
“Are you okay?!”
She shook her head again, trying to calm down, “I thought it was just a sore throat but it’s getting worse.”
“Let’s get you to the doctor,” Bucky said, worry eating away inside his chest as he watched her cough more.
He quickly grabbed her jacket and keys, leading her out to her car.
~
“It’s because I let you sleep on the couch, isn’t it? You got cold,” Bucky said, running his fingers through his hair nervously as he paced around the room.
He hasn’t stopped blaming himself since they’d returned from the doctor’s. She caught a bad flu and Bucky quickly believed it was his fault.
“No, Bucky. It’s not that.”
“You don’t have to defend me, doll. It’s because of me. I’ve managed to hurt you again. And I don’t even use beds. I should’ve never let you sleep out here.”
“Hey! Calm down please! It’s not you... It was me.” She released a sigh, biting her lip.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, when the rain got even worse after you went to bed. I thought I’d come out and cover the motorcycle so that it wouldn’t get all muddy and you’d have a hard time cleaning it,” she explained, fiddling with her fingers.
“That’s still because of me,” Bucky sighed.
“Come on, it’s not like you made me!” Her hoarse voice tried to reassure.
Bucky only ran his fingers through his messy hair again, not knowing what to say or do to make this one right.
“Bucky, please, I’m sick. All I want is for you to stay beside me and not blame yourself.” Her frown was back to her beautiful face and Bucky didn’t like it, “can you do that for me?”
He didn’t like how sick and scratchy her voice sounded either so he wasn’t about to make talk more with a throat like that.
“I’ve already proven I suck at taking care of you, doll,” Bucky chuckled sadly.
“Do you want forgiveness or not?” She joked.
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’m right here.”
“Is it dangerous for you though? I don’t want you to get it too.”
“I can’t get sick, remember?” Bucky smiled, rubbing her back lightly, “I’m your nurse now.”
“Is that so?” She giggled.
“Yeah.” He nodded confidently.
“You’re definitely not dressed for it,” she teased, giving him her tongue.
“Oh, are you into that kinda thing, doll?” He raised an eyebrow, a playful smile she has never seen before on his pink lips.
“Bucky!” She squealed, hiding her face with the covers, making Bucky laugh.
The sound was heaven to her ears and despite being awfully sick, she couldn’t wish for a better outcome for Bucky’s visit.
“Shit, here it comes again,” she gulped before starting another fit of harsh coughing.
“Bad word,” he whispered to her, making her smile tiredly as she continued coughing.
~
“I don’t wanna go,” she whined as Bucky gently forced her arm inside her jacket.
“We have to. You need your shots to get better.” Bucky covered her head with the hood of her jacket to make sure she was warm before leading her outside.
“But shots hurt,” she whined more with teary eyes.
“I’ll be right there, remember?”
“That’s not gonna do anything!” She whined further.
“Hey!” Bucky pretended to be hurt as he helped her inside the car.
She sighed with a grateful smile, “fine, hugs or I don’t go.”
“Hugs it is.” Bucky smiled back, taking seat next to her before starting the car.
~
“No, no, no, please. I’m not ready, I don’t want it. Give me pills instead, give me pills,” she cried in Bucky’s chest as she saw the doctor get the shot ready.
“Doll, it’s okay, I promise. I got you,” Bucky said, feeling as helpless as ever.
He wished he could get the shots for her, but it wasn’t possible. He could feel something different about her. She looked like she was slipping into her little headspace and it made Bucky nervous, oh so nervous, that he might mess up and not be able to deal with her again.
She barely calmed down enough for Bucky to help her small hands lower her pants just enough for the doctor to have space to push the needle in.
She moaned in pain as she hid her face in Bucky’s chest, crying for real when she felt the strong medicine inside the needle spread inside her.
“It stings. It stings bad,” she sobbed, hands clutching Bucky’s shirt as he covered her behind again and made sure she was properly covered.
“I know, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. We’re going home now, it’s over,” Bucky cooed, rubbing and patting her back with his big hand.
“It hurts, daddy,” she sniveled in his ear and Bucky froze.
Those innocent teary eyes looking up at him like that made him feel a lot of things. But most importantly, they made him feel like he could do this. He could take care of this sweet girl without messing up this time. Her love would show him how.
“I got you, doll. Daddy’s got you.”
~
part V
~
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578 notes · View notes
matrixbearer2024 · 3 months
Text
Enough With The Schemes!
Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader
A/N: Ngl I kinda had this in my drafts just because I didn't know how it'd ever fit into the story but I decided to fix it up and post it after @vespers-night-sky's fanart for the "Get Off My Screen" Series- the direct continuation and reader's death is in the works folks, I've just been trying to figure out the pacing ahsojskqjds- I am not gonna be a Hazbin Hotel episode jkjkjk Anyway, thank you thank you THANK YOU ALL for the support with the series and think of these little things as filler episodes before the big reveal. Anyways, as usual- happy reading and I hope you all enjoy! The series in it's entirety can be found on my blog under the #Get Off My Screen Series
You didn't know how much more of Vox's shenanigans you could take.
First it had been the wallpaper war-
Until now you couldn't stop his face from being a permanent fixture to your devices-
But it was fine, he could have that!
You lamented over not having [Favorite Fictional Character Name] in your backgrounds anymore but you know what it was fineeeee-
You honestly couldn't tell if having his glitchy grinning face was an upgrade or cringe central.
Then he figured out how to absolutely lag out your computer at some point.
You seriously wanted to punch his monitor head from frustration because of it.
Especially when he had the nerve to laugh at your irritation-
This asshole-!
Now, he was absolutely blowing up your phone and devices with memes or just anything under the sun.
Not that messing with the notification settings would help-
Because somehow he'd figured out how to completely bypass those too.
If this was why that Alastor guy and Vox had a tiff you could practically relate.
Your phone just continued to buzz and vibrate on the table next to you.
Not that you could be fucked with it at the moment trying to cram a paper your professor assigned last BLOODY MINUTE!
That was of course until the Vox desktop companion grabbed the cursor and just didn't let you have it back.
As much as you tried, the darn thing only emoted angrily and refused to give you back the damn arrow.
Your eye twitched as you tried to maintain your cool, only to get up from the desk and scream obscenities to no one in particular.
The day had been a particularly bad one and you really just couldn't deal with Vox's bullshit right now.
"Helloooooo! HELLOOOOOOO?! Earth to (Y/N)! Pick up your fucking phone!!!"
Oh for the love of god he better not have changed your ringtone too-
You rubbed your face in an attempt to calm down before finally checking your phone.
Honestly you expected it to be something really stupid, but seeing what his messages were about made you feel slightly guilty for ignoring him the whole day.
Vox grew used to the routine you both had, so it was no surprise that your sudden inactivity drove his anxiety up the walls.
Poor guy thought of all the worst possible cases that could've happened to you-
He'd greet you in the morning and you would always reply afterwards while eating breakfast.
Save for the times you'd gotten sick or just felt under the weather.
After all, you had classes in the morning and he had broadcasts to air.
You also hated being tardy, similar to how he saw punctuality as something extremely important.
The two of you would intermittently chat within the day and tell each other if you had work to do so you both could leave each other alone for a designated time.
Vox often didn't adhere to this, but he'd always keep his distractions to a minimum if you asked.
Actually neither did you, sometimes you'd be the one spam sending him anything you could think of just to give him a taste of his own medicine.
Then you would wish him a good night's rest and he would eventually reply back with a silly gif or emoji that bode you the same.
He just grew used to it, the familiarity of your companionship in his monotonous day to day.
So whenever something fell apart in the routine you both had, Vox couldn't help but worry that something happened to you.
Whether you'd gotten sick or just anything worse-
It didn't sit well with him when you didn't reply to his morning message like you often did.
Constantly checking his phone for any updates from you to find nothing.
Zilch, none, zero.
The worrying feeling only grew as time ticked onwards.
Even at your busiest you would still shoot him a memo saying that you were.
Which only made this radio silence-
Haha see what I did there-
Worse than it really was.
So what did Vox do?
Absolutely blow up your phone and devices trying to get your attention.
Only when he realized you were doing something on your laptop did he let the desktop companion he made for you interfere.
Not that he even really understood what he'd stuck his hands into.
"What the hell even happened to you today? You didn't even reply to any of my fucking messages! I thought something happened to you!"
"Well SORRY I couldn't reply to your terminally online ass. I was busy dealing with my shitty assignment workload."
The TV overlord quickly picked up that you weren't in a pleasant mood.
The way you typed was just a dead giveaway.
Glancing up at his schedule, Vox notified his secretary to cancel a few of his meetings before he replied to you.
"Anything I can help you with? I'm free for a good few hours."
You were taken aback by his offer, every time Vox would help you he didn't even bother asking.
He just straight up started editing whatever you were working on no matter what you said.
Who was this guy and what did he do with Vox-
"You aren't trying to bullshit me are you? Cuz I'm not in the mood."
"I can tell dollface, let me guess- your shitty professor again?"
You ended up ranting about the abruptly given assignment and just a bunch of other things that slowly ruined your day.
Vox just agreed with you here and there, shooting one word replies or emojis to show he was still listening.
All the while he made the desktop companion let go of your cursor and he looked over your work.
Wow your writing was still absolutely shit-
"So now I've gotta submit this fucking paper before midnight or I'll get a 40% deduction."
"Don't worry about it, we can finish this in an hour. Anything else?"
It was an economics paper you were struggling on and this was Vox you were talking to.
You shouldn't have been surprised that he already knew his way around the topic.
You glanced up from your phone and already saw him editing your essay.
Why didn't you just ask him for help sooner??
"I think I can handle the rest. Thanks anyway, mind if I put on some music while I write?"
"As long as I get to pick some of the songs."
"Deal."
It shouldn't have done anything really.
You shouldn't be having this funny feeling in your gut.
A fuzzy warmth that bloomed because Vox was so quick to drop everything and help you.
Even if it was just something minor like your paper.
Still, you couldn't help but smile as you put on some relaxing tunes and typed away alongside your favorite digital companion.
Just like that, you both melted back into the usual cycle of talking and working.
A casual harmony that you were more than happy to just live in for the moment.
BONUS:
Both you and Vox were just casually chatting by the time his secretary called him away for the scheduled broadcast.
Of course, you wished you could see what he was actually doing but stopped before you could say so.
Instead you just wished Vox well in the broadcast.
"Of course doll, and you know me! I'll be just fine."
Well, his broadcast was going fine-
Until his screen suddenly glitched and randomly played a tune from your playlist.
Had he forgotten to unlink himself from your devices?
It took a few seconds for Vox to compose himself but his show thankfully went on without another hitch.
You on the other hand?
You were just having a personal concert in your room to unwind while waiting for Vox to come back.
So it came as a surprise when the song you played randomly paused and made the Bluetooth disconnect sound.
You didn't connect it to anything-?
Though your questions were eventually answered when Vox blew up your phone again.
This time you couldn't help but laugh.
You were friends with a demonic overlord sure-
But it was hard to fear him when he was such a doofus.
480 notes · View notes
sunarc · 4 months
Text
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Synopsis: Falling for gojo was one of your worst mistakes, but loving him when you know he could never love you back was an even bigger mistake.
CW:gojo is an ass, fuck boy gojo,angsty, situationship, oral f receiving, alittle blood not during sex, ownership, reader gets jealous, reader is a bit possessive, fuck boy gojo, 5.1k words
A/N: this is for @honeybleed ‘s RnB collab! i am super late but yeah lol
tags: @eveningatthemoviesnetwork
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Being around Satoru made your palms sweaty. It was embarrassing to say, but you couldn’t help the bubble of emotions that seemed to burst inside of you when he was near. His presence alone could send your heart on a never-ending race. His eyes could make you melt within seconds with just one look. You always found yourself gazing into them, wondering what secrets they held. They’re so bright, so blue, and so pure. His eyes alone could cause emotions you had never experienced before. You could stare at them for days, stuck in a blue trance that you never wanted to escape. You knew he wasn’t good for you. You had told yourself you needed to let go a thousand times before. When you first laid in his bed, allowed his fingers to graze so delicately against your skin, and allowed his lips to press against your body with lustful hunger, you knew he’d be trouble. You knew he was bad for you when he held your body close to his, caressed your skin with his tender touch after a steamy session, and told you he enjoyed being friends with you. Yet somehow you continuously found yourself being drawn into him, constantly breathing in his musk while he held you close, constantly pushing your feelings away just so you could have one more intimate moment with him.
‘This is the last time’ It was a mantra that went into one ear and out the other. You could never seem to follow through with it whenever you found yourself wrapped in his arms.
You sat silently in the backseat of Getou’s car, fiddling with the wheel of your brand-new skateboard. You weren’t a skater. You had never stepped foot on a board before. It was embarrassing to say, but you had only brought a board because you thought it would give you more time to spend with Satoru. You were overwhelmed with nerves, practically holding your breath the entire ride. You felt like an overfilled glass waiting to run over. One little drop, and you’d spill like a glass of milk. This was the first time you were skating. You had only agreed to go because Satoru promised to teach you. You recalled his bright eyes shining with excitement as you asked. The way his lips curled upward into a sly smile as he pulled your naked body closer to his made you melt. You wanted to be covered in the warmth of the light that seemed to radiate off of him.
“Something on your mind?” Shoko asked, blowing smoke in your direction.
You coughed and waved the cloud of cigarette smoke away before giving her an angry look.
“Just nervous is all,” you whispered.
“Don’t be nervous, skating is like walking, anyone can do it." Satoru turned around from the front seat with a bright smile and chipper voice.
"Oh, that's not-” Getou started but was soon cut off by Satoru’s intoxicating voice.
“And besides, if you break a bone, then you’ll officially be a part of the skater community,” he said as if it were an initiation into the skater world.
Shoko nodded her head hesitantly. "Well, I can agree with that part. The first time I broke a bone was after I landed a 720 flip, the best bone break I’ve had to this day.”
You sat nervously listening to the three of them share past stories of the bones they had broken. If you weren’t nervous before, you were damn near shitting yourself now.
“Thanks, guys, this conversation helped so much,” you said, sarcasm dripping in your voice.
Gojo turned around, giving you a smirk that made your heart flutter.
“Don’t worry, if you fall I’ll be there to catch you,” he gave you a wink.
The smallest things could make your heart feel like it was about to explode. You bit your lip in a failed attempt to hide the smile that was forming. He was like a burst of sunshine through a terrible storm, always there to make things better. You hated admitting it, and you’d never actually say it out loud, but you were in love. Head over heels in love with Satoru. Being around him made you feel like you were floating on cloud nine bursting with an overwhelming feeling of devotion. You could only pray that he felt the same. You were stuck in an intricate web of wonder. Did he love you the way you loved him? The way he’d make you feel when he was around screamed yes, but everything seemed to lead you in the opposite direction. You couldn’t bring yourself to ask him for the nth time what the two of you were, only to get the same reply of “We’re just chilling,” paired with a passionate kiss to take your mind off of it. You didn’t want to 'chill'. You wanted passion. You wanted the kind of love shared between Achilles and Patroclus, where he’d walk for miles wailing your name because he craved you in your absence. The kind of love like Orpheus and Eurydice, where he’d travel to the depths of hell just to bring you back to him. You wanted the kind of love where he would memorize the thrumming of your heartbeat so well that he’d recognize you just from the sound of it alone. You craved his love almost in an animalistic way, you craved him.
“We’re here people.” Getou’s voice pulled you from your manic thoughts.
You looked around, observing every person in the park. Everyone seemed so professional compared to you. You got out of the car, standing to the side, awkwardly swaying side to side holding your board. Your nerves were getting the best of you as you compared yourself to those around you. Their scratched and dirtied skateboards mocked your pristine, untouched board. You didn’t belong here. You felt anxious watching everyone with experience skate around you.
"Breathe, babe.” Shoko leaned next to you on the car. "You look like you're about to have a heart attack."
You let out a soft laugh. Satoru and Suguru had run off to start skating, leaving you and Shoko behind.
“I feel like an unprepared freshman entering high school. Everyone seems so good here,” you exclaimed “I feel like I'm going to embarrass myself in front of him” 
Shoko already knew about the ‘him’ you were speaking of. She had warned you a million times before to be careful with him, and every time you just brushed it off as her being too worrisome.
“I had a feeling,” she said, lighting her cigarette “You were sweating like you were in a sauna in the car.”
You scoffed and brushed your palms against your pants.
“I was just a little hot!" you exclaimed, making an excuse.
“The windows were down."
“I just want to impress him,” you whined childishly.
She rolled her eyes.
“You want to impress the same guy who just left you in a place you’ve never been before?”
You turned around to see the man of the hour mingling with Suguru. He was poking the cheek of a tall, blond-haired guy who looked as if he was completely over the entire interaction. You turned back to Shoko with an eager smile.
“He’s just excited. He’ll pay more attention when he’s teaching me." You excused his behavior as you grabbed her hand, dragging her over to the two.
You walked over to the chaos, reminding yourself to take deep breaths.
“Hi,” you chimed in, embarrassed at how your voice somehow cracked.
Satoru turned to you, giving you a welcoming smile, and from just a glance, you felt a whirlwind of emotions.
"Hi." His voice was soothing.
It was just the two of you. No intimidating skaters, no Shoko reminding you of how he isn't good for you, just him and his gentle voice.
“Ready to skate pretty?” The nickname made you swoon.
You nodded your head eagerly. Satoru grabbed your hand, pulling you away from the group. You followed behind him with a longing smile. You felt like the main character in a movie living out your dreams. His hand was so soft. He was warm. You never wanted to let him go.
“Welcome to my world, pretty girl. You ready to become one with the board?” He asked as he held your face with a serious gaze.
You were in a somewhat secluded area of the park. You nodded your head, too focused on the way his eyes glistened in the sun to focus on his words.
"Alright, get on the board,” he said, letting you go.
You were in an empty space away from what you considered experts, but Satoru somehow considered novices. Geto and Shoko were off skating doing tricks you could only dream of.
“Will you hold my hand?” Your voice was soft as if you were afraid of his answer.
Gojo was a kind person, one of the friendliest guys you had ever been with. You knew he’d say yes, but you somehow feared a reaction from him anyway.
“Of course,” he said, slipping his hand into yours, his eyes watching you steadily. His smile was soft as he watched you. You stepped onto the shaky board. You felt like a baby, learning to walk for the first time. As you were gathering the courage to place your other foot on the board, you slipped and fell into him. His hand wrapped around your waist as he caught you. You were pressed against his chest, gripping his arm tightly.
“I told you I’d catch you,” he whispered gently.
This was the Satoru you had fallen in love with. The one who would catch you no matter what. He held you up straight on the board, holding both of your hands.
“We’re going to move now, okay?” He spoke lowly. His voice was comforting. You felt like you could do anything with him around.
He took slow steps, moving you on the board. You wobbled, leaning into him ever so often. You let out a soft laugh when you picked up speed a bit.
“You’re doing it,” he laughed with you, proud of your accomplishments. “I bet you’ll be a better skater than me in no time,” he whispered the words as if they were meant for you and you alone.
You smiled with a wordless reply.
"Satoru,” you heard Getou call for him.
Satoru’s eyes were trained on you, keeping you balanced as he replied quickly, “Hold on."
You held onto him as he walked with you on the skateboard, allowing you to get used to being on the board.
“I’m gonna let go soon, okay?" he spoke “Don’t panic, just keep your balance and breathe.” His voice was steady as he spoke to you.
You felt so at ease listening to his gentle words. Confidence surged through you as he gently pulled away, setting you free to sail. You let out nervous laughter as you continued rolling. You stood up straight, feeling braver.
“I’m doing it, I’m really doing it, Toru,” you called out to him, excitement racing through your blood. You turned your head in the direction he had previously been, searching for his smiling face, only to see him gone. Your wide eyes filled with disappointment as you turned your head, searching for him.
“Satoru?” You called out for him.
Your attention was so focused on the blue-eyed boy missing in action that you failed to see the upcoming railing blocking your path. Before you knew it, your body was going one way and the skateboard the other. You lay face-first on the ground, groaning from a mixture of pain and embarrassment. Your mind could barely focus on the pain from your bleeding knee due to fear that he had seen you fall. You sat up, watching your skateboard slowly roll away from you. What a great day to wear shorts without knee pads. Shoko walked over to you and held out her hand, which you gladly took. Your eyes searched for the boy who had failed to catch you. Your heart felt as if it had been sliced into pieces once you saw him. He was far off, standing with Getou and a girl with short brown hair. She was, in simpler terms, gorgeous. Gojo threw his head back, laughing at something she was saying. Not only was she pretty, but she was also funny.
“So much for being there to catch you,” Shoko grumbled as she helped you stand straight.
“Who’s that girl?” you asked.
Your eyes stared woefully at the two. It wasn’t like you were jealous, of course, he could have friends who were girls.
“You’re bleeding are you okay?”
“She’s really pretty." You spoke, lost in thought.
“It’s not too bad I have some bandages in my bag.”
“Do you think he saw?”
“I don’t know; let me check.”
Shoko turned to look at the three mingling. Gojo was leaning into the girl, smirking softly as she spoke to him, never breaking eye contact. His hand moved to push a stray hair behind her ear, and you watched as a soft blush appeared on her cheeks. You felt like you were third-wheeling with how intimate their conversation seemed to be. Getou was long gone skating with other friends, leaving the two behind. Her eyes stared into his with that same look you knew all too well. Those damn blue eyes were trapping her in the same way they did you.
“She’s really pretty.”
“I wonder where I’ve heard that before.”
“Do you think she’s a good skater?” You wanted to tear your eyes away from them, but you couldn’t pull away from the sight of him flirting right in front of you.
“Stop comparing yourself." You fell silent at Shoko’s words, “Her beauty does not invalidate yours.”
You looked down, ashamed of your jealousy. You couldn’t help the anger and jealousy that boiled inside of you watching him mingle with someone who wasn’t you. Shoko wiped your knee clean as she continued her rant.
“Stop letting his validation define your worth,” she whispered.
Disappointment was laced in her voice. It wasn’t that she was particularly disappointed in you. She was disappointed in how you completely lost yourself in Gojo. He had somehow controlled your every waking being. His passions were your passions, and his dislikes were yours. You were engulfed in the desire to be everything he wanted, yet there he was right before your eyes, proving to you yet again that you were nothing more than just a pretty girl who gave it up to him.
“I’m sorry.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you watched Shoko sit next to you.
“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to yourself,” she said as she lit another cigarette. “And don’t forget to forgive yourself; that’s the most important part.”
You sat in silence, watching everyone around you. Shoko promised to stay with you for the rest of the day because she was tired of skating. She sat scrolling mindlessly with her head on your shoulder. Your eyes scanned the park, never failing to land on the boy you just couldn’t seem to get out of your head. His attention was all over the girl you had deemed a goddess in disguise. She was pretty, funny, and a damn good skater. You watched mesmerized at the tricks she was pulling off.
"Damn, she’s good,” you whispered.
“That could be you if you want to practice some more, don’t worry, I’ll actually be here," Shoko commented
You sat for a moment, contemplating the idea. Skating wasn’t really your thing. You were slightly disappointed that you were just coming to this realization after paying damn near 100 dollars for your board.
“I actually don’t think skating is for me,” you admitted.
Shoko hummed in response, too engulfed by a TikTok video.
The sun was finally going down when Getou walked over skateboard in hand.
“You two kids ready to go?” You nodded your head like a child as you stood with Shoko.
"Satoru,” he called across the nearly empty park.
You peeked behind him to see Gojo whipping his phone out, handing it to the girl who had captured his attention for the day. You rolled your eyes and began limping back to the car. The pain of the scrape had eased, but you still wanted to clean it when you got home.
“Need help?” Shoko walked up behind you.
“No thanks,” you said softly, wanting to be alone for a bit.
She patted your back and gave you a soft smile before running ahead to jump onto Geto’s back.
"Asshole!” he yelled as he stumbled, trying to find balance.
You smiled at the two and continued your slow pace.
“Pretty girl, wait up." You turned around to see a smiling Gojo chasing you.
You silently cursed yourself at the feeling of your heart skipping a beat because of the nickname he always called you.
You rolled your eyes before turning around. You knew he’d catch up to you with his long legs.
“Hey, what happened? Why are you limping?” His voice was filled with worry.
You stopped in your tracks, feeling the rage suddenly boiling over inside of you.
“Oh wow, now you care." You practically yelled.
He flinched from the sudden outburst. He had never really heard or seen you so angry.
“You promised to teach me how to skate.” Your pointer finger stabbed him in the chest. “You promised to stick with me. You promised to catch me if I fell,” you continued.
His mouth hung open, too surprised to form words to speak.
“I was bleeding from my knee and you were too busy flirting to even notice.”
He stared silently, allowing you to continue.
“You didn’t pay attention to me, not once while we were here, and you now have the nerve to ask what happened?!” You scoffed, rolling your eyes, and began limping towards the car.
Gojo grabbed your hand, pulling you back to him.
"Wait, I’m sorry.” He gave you a soft pout.
You hated the way his wide eyes had such an effect on you. “I shouldn’t have abandoned you today. I’m a jerk, I’m an asshole, and whatever name you want to call me.” His fingers rubbed circles into your skin as he attempted to ease your anger.
“You are an asshole and a jerk. I’m glad you noticed.” You made an attempt to pull away, but he held your wrist tight.
“Let me make it up to you.”
“How are you going to make it up to me?”
“Come back to my place, and I’ll show you.” His arm wrapped around the small of your back, pulling you in close.
You were breathing in his familiar scent. Your heart was beating so hard in your chest that it was impossible for him not to hear.
“I don’t care about any of your sleazy tricks, Gojo.”
You pulled away.
“Gojo? What happened to Toru or Pretty Boy?” He was chasing after you pulling you back into him. You didn’t want to feed his ego, not when you were seething with anger.
“Listen, come over tonight, no sleazy tricks, no asshole or jerk Gojo, just me, you, and whatever you want to do. I care about you, and I’m so sorry I made you feel like I didn't. Let me make it up to you.”
He stared at you with a pleading look. His wide eyes held so much desperation as if his world would fall apart if you said no.
"Please,” he begged, waiting for your reply.
You rolled your eyes and let out a deep sigh.
“Fine Gojo. I’ll come over.”
You wanted to grab the words as soon as they left your mouth. You should’ve said no. You should’ve stood your ground. You should have made him feel the way he made you feel when he openly flirted in front of you. You wanted to scream because, for some reason, you could never pull away from him. It was as if he held a magnet that you couldn’t help but pull into.
You sat silently in the car, preparing yourself to sit angrily in Gojo’s home. Why even go at this point? Perhaps you knew you were never really angry. More so, you were jealous. Why couldn’t it be you that he wanted to be with all the time? Why couldn’t he whisper sweet nothings into your ear that made you giggle like a schoolgirl? Why couldn’t he just reciprocate your love? It wasn’t that he ‘couldn’t’ he just wouldn’t do it. Part of you knew that, but some part of you still wanted to try.
When Getou pulled up to Gojo’s house, you tried to ignore the disappointed headshake Shoko gave you. You wanted to ignore the insistent feeling of dread bubbling inside you, screaming to get back in the car. You had planned on standing your ground. Of course, you weren’t going to sleep with him. Last time was the last time, and that was final.
“Get comfy, let me go grab some new bandages for your knee.”
You sat on his couch, taking steady breaths. Every time you came here you felt as if it were the first time. Your palms were sweating profusely. Your heart felt like it was seconds away from jumping out of your chest.
Gojo came back with a first-aid kit. His touch was so soft. You couldn't even look at him when you had so many emotions bubbling inside you.
"Gojo,” your call of his name was followed by complete silence as he focused on rubbing ointment on your knee.
"Gojo,” you called out to him louder. You know he could hear you.
"Toru,” you groaned, annoyed with his silence.
“Yes pretty?” He looked up at you with a playful smile.
You give him a pout.
“I- I need to say something." Your face is filled with frustration. You had to get this off your chest.
“I’m all ears.” He finished bandaging your knee and placed a kiss on it to top it off. He sat crisscrossed in front of you, his hand gently rubbing up and down your calf while giving you all his attention.
"Um, well.” You didn't know how to start.
Your attention was all over the place. His hand was still massaging your calf. Your thoughts were tracing back to the events of the day.
“What do you want from me?" You looked down, frustration covering your face.
"How can I show you I love you and you finally understand?” You clenched your jaw while unconsciously caving into yourself.
"I will always love you how I do, but I need you to feel something more for me than just lust." You hadn’t realized the tears that were beginning to fall. Your emotions felt like they were overpowering you. You wanted to scream, Why won't he choose you? You felt so small like the room was slowly growing smaller. You wrapped your arms around yourself, suddenly feeling so vulnerable—too vulnerable.
“I wish you needed me. I want to be your number one,” you whimpered.
Gojo’s palm softly grabbed your face, wiping away your endless stream of tears.
"I—please let me make it up to you. I care about you so much, pretty,” he said, pulling you in for a kiss.
His lips felt like heaven. He was intoxicating. You breathed him in like a drug that you were unknowingly addicted to. His hands dragged hot trails on your skin as he deepened the kiss. It was filled with fire and passion you could've sworn he was telling you he loved you with his touch alone. You hated how you fell so easily for him. One touch alone, and he left you feeling weak in the knees. You wanted to pull away. When his hands dragged you to his room, you wanted to pull away because last time was the last time. When he dragged his lips down your naked body, apologizing with each kiss, you wanted to pull away. When his fingers peeled your panties down while his eyes focused on your face, watching your every reaction, you wanted to pull away. When his tongue licked between your folds, you knew you were far too deep to pull away.
“Spread your legs for me, baby, let me show you how much I care.” His voice was silky as his warm tongue pressed against your core. You arched your body into him, loving the way his tongue massaged your warmth. Your moans grew louder as his pace quickened. Gojo was eating you out as if he had something to prove. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling your body impossibly closer. His tongue lapped at your clit at an unrelenting pace. His groans vibrated against your core, leaving you a complete mess. Your hands gripped the sheet desperately, attempting to gather yourself. You were so close.
"Fuck, please- “ Your whimpers were cut off by another moan. Gojo was taking every part of you. The way he slurped your juices left you feeling embarrassed. How could he make you fall apart for him so easily each and every time? He pressed wet kisses to your thighs in between swallowing your essence messily. Your hands moved to his shoulder, clawing desperately. You were stuck between needing him and wanting nothing to do with him.
“Fuck, Toru, I hate you so much” you whined as you grew closer to your orgasm.
It was true. You hated him, every ounce of him. The way he made you feel, the way he could have you wrapped around his finger within seconds, the way he could have you trembling just from his tongue.
You felt like you had no control over your body. You were at his mercy, constantly giving yourself away to him.
"Wait, w-wait Toru” you whined 
He pulled away with a deep breath. His face was drenched with your juices.
“You did so well for me, pretty girl.”
He crawled up to be at eye level with you. His lips pressed against yours, and once again, you were trapped in his soft presence. His hand gripped your waist, holding you in place while he positioned himself at your entrance. You could feel the beating of his heart against your own. It was like a drum to a song you had memorized over and over before.
“You still mad at me?” His voice was lower than before.
Of course, you were. One little orgasm wouldn’t change how you felt. You nodded your head. He rolled his tip against your clit earning a moan. His cock dipped into you, stretching you out with each inch.
“How about now?”
You couldn’t focus on his question. Your mouth hung open as you tried to adjust to his size.
He sat up and pressed your legs to your chest.
“That's okay, baby. Just lay back and let me make you feel good.” His voice was sultry.
Gojo rocked his cock in and out of you, smiling at the way you moaned. His eyes stared down at where the two of you met, captivated by the way you sucked him in.
“That’s it, pretty girl. Take this cock. So good for me.” His hands pushed down onto your thighs, folding you so he could have easier access.
The feeling of his cock gliding against your walls left you speechless. Your eyes were rolling back with each thrust. You felt butterflies in your stomach as he whispered how you were his good girl.
His.
Something about that word made you melt.
“Tell me who’s pussy this is."
"Yours,” you moaned, as if it were engraved in you to acknowledge yourself as his.
“It’s your Toru, always,” you whimpered.
You fell for him all over again.
This is the last time. You knew it was a lie.
His hips moved in circular motions as he pushed himself into you.
“You like that, huh?” He knew exactly how to make you feel good. He knew your body better than you.
“You like it when I fuck my pussy, don’t you?” he grunted. "Yeah, you do. Take this cock, baby, it’s all yours.”
Your heart fluttered. You felt a sense of possession as the words spilled past his lips.
"Mine,” you whispered. The words were probably hard for Gojo to hear over his grunts as he plunged his cock into you. “All mine,” you whimpered.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum,” he groaned. “You want my cum, baby? Want me to fill my pretty pussy to the brim?” He said, looking down at your shaking figure.
You were far too gone, still reeling from the possessive words being shared between the two of you.
Gojo thrusted into you sloppily as he neared his orgasm. His thumb circled your clit urging you to another orgasm.
“Make a mess for me, let me see how sloppy my pussy gets.”
You moaned loudly, shaking and shivering, as you were overcome by your orgasm. Your eyes squeezed shut as your juices sprayed against Gojo’s abs while he continued thrusting into you.
"Oh, Fuck Toru,” you whimpered.
Your watery eyes opened to see Gojo’s lust-filled gaze. His lip was pulled between his teeth as he fucked roughly into you, chasing after his orgasm.
“Cum inside of me, Toru. I need it, please." Your pleads were all Gojo needed before spurting his seed into you, whimpering about how good you were for him.
He leaned down into the crook of your neck as his thrust came to a halt. Your arms wrapped around him, holding him tight. His body felt so warm on top of you. Your mind went from a fucked out blur to a mess of thoughts. Your love-struck eyes gazed down at his still form with realization. You were more than just a body he could fuck; at least that’s what you were constantly telling yourself. It was so easy to say these things, but once his lips were on yours and his hands pulling you free from your clothes, you couldn’t find it in yourself to put these words into action.
Gojo pulled out of you to lay beside you. He pulled you so you were resting on his chest. You lay silently, staring into the darkness of the room.
You knew this had to be the last time. You knew you had to let go, and you knew you had to forgive yourself for taking so long to let go. You knew it was a bad religion to be in love with the brightest shade of blue. When he pulled out his phone to text the pretty girl from the skate park, asking to hang out with a winky face, you knew he’d never crave your love the way you did.
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lovebugism · 1 year
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☄. *. ⋆ ┄ Feel Good
summary: you don't come. ever. well... not until steve harrington comes along. pairing: steve harrington / f!reader warnings: the longest headcanon ever, talks of shitty boyfriends and masturbation, pure smut 18+ mdni! a/n: if you saw this before the repost... no you didn't. and to the anon that requested this: i hope you like it!
( MASTERLIST )
you don't come
this is not an exaggeration
it's purely a statement of fact
because you’ve never ever had an orgasm
not one
not with your fingers, not with a toy, not with a partner, not ever
you get pretty close sometimes
if you're in the right mindset and you have enough time (and a partner who isn't totally focused on their own pleasure
you can actually get really, really close
it’s kinda like climbing a steep mountain and nearly reaching the top
or seeing a glimmer light at the end of the dark tunnel
it always ends the same way, though
you fall from the peak. darkness swallows you whole. the feeling of bliss swells and then disappears entirely.
some of your partners have come up with their own theories
one said you internalized your religious upbringing and turn away from pleasure without thinking
another insisted that it wasn’t their fault they couldn’t make you come because your clit was just too small
the last one told you that you just “needed to love yourself more”
it was exhausting, quite honestly
your partners became your therapist, trying to pry into your mind and diagnose you accordingly
you were an experiment to them
they tried every position and motion to try and get you there, though sometimes it felt like they were only doing it because it felt good for them
some didn’t bother trying at all
they got frustrated with you, called you broken, and left to find someone “normal”
and it fucking sucked
so somewhere down the line, you just started faking it
because that was easier than having those uncomfortable conversations and waiting until they inevitably left you
that ultimately led to you avoiding relationships all together
and then you met steve
and you liked steve
screw that, you liked liked steve
he wasn’t like all the rest of the partners that fucked you over
and for the first time in a long time, you had a really good feeling about the whole thing
but you were terrified of screwing it up
and you were also terrified of lying to him
you were able to avoid it for the most part
that is, until he was about to go down on you for the first time
he’s got you on your back with his head between your legs
you tense when he presses a kiss to your thigh 
“you okay?”
“i don’t come” you blurt
“…what?”
“i don’t know why. i’ve just never been able to. and it’s not because of you, okay? so i don’t want you to think you’re doing something wrong or that i don’t want to do this, because holy shit i wanna do this so bad—”
and you’re just rambling
mostly because you feel like if you keep talking, it’ll keep him from saying something you don’t wanna hear
steve just nods and shoots you a small smile from between your legs
“that’s ok :)”
and you breathe out the biggest sigh of relief
because no one’s ever not made a huge deal about it
“can i still make you feel good?”
you just nod down at him bc you don’t trust your voice to say something intelligible
he gives you head that night and he’s good
he’s great actually
but you don’t come
the sex is even better
he makes an effort to find ways that’ll make it feel better for you
he’ll put pillows beneath your hips and push your legs up towards your chest when he’s on top of you
he’ll tell you all the ways to position yourself when you’re on top of him
with one leg bent and your foot flat on the bed so he’s hitting your sweet spot every time he drills into you
and it’s never about him
it never feels like he’s doing crazy positions to exploit you under the guise of “blowing your mind”
most guys only wanted to get you off so that they could feel like some kind of sex god
but steve genuinely wants you to feel good
and he’s so willing to learn your body to help you feel good
one time he sat himself behind you with his chin hooked over your shoulder
“show me how you do it” he said to you
and you did
but it didn't feel like you were some experiment to him either
it was so fucking hot
he made a show out of it, asking you to tell him everything you were doing to yourself and how it felt
“does that feel good?”
“it feels so good—” you interrupt yourself as your mouth falls open in a silent moan and your legs start to tense up
“oh that’s the spot, huh?”
and he likes to learn about all the times you’ve gotten the closest
even though to you it’s mortifying
you’re red in the face the entire time you tell him the only time you ever thought you might actually come was with the shower head
you get embarrassed and hide your face in his shoulder
he’s just like “no, it’s sexy! we can try that if you want?”
but you’re scared that might be a little too exposing and that there would be way too much pressure on you
as always, he’s the most understanding person on the planet
“that’s okay. we don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do. ever.”
and he makes you feel so safe and cared for 
even when you get defeated
because both of you try so hard but you just can’t get there
and after he’s spent an hour between your legs switching between his fingers and his mouth
you start crying out of pure and utter frustration
“steve stop. just stop. there’s no point. let’s just quit.”
and obv when you tell him to stop he’s gonna stop
but he can tell how sad you are when your back is to him and you're putting your clothes back on
and he tries not to smile when you get all twisted in your bra bc you’re so moody that you don’t put it on the right way
“it’s okay baby, we can keep trying—”
“no, steve, it’s not okay! i just don’t get why i can’t be like normal people!”
“there’s nothing wrong with you, okay? some girls just have a harder time than others. it’s okay to come less than other people”
“less?” you scoff “how about never?”
and he’s still patient with you
even while you’re ranting and getting all angry at him and yourself
“i don’t even know why you still try! it’s never gonna happen, okay? ever. you get that, right? there’s no point in trying. you should just find someone else—”
that’s when he stops you
“okay. that’s enough.”
he walks to you where you’re standing in nothing but your bra and underwear and your jeans that you shoved on but didn't button before you started ranting
“it doesn’t matter if you come or not— well, it does, but that’s not what this is about, okay? it doesn’t have to be about having an orgasm. when i’m with you, it doesn’t feel like i’m trying to accomplish something. it’s just about two people who love each other, spending time together, and feeling good”
“…you love me?”
“…was that not obvious?”
the two of you spend the rest of the night cuddling after that
and he’s adamant about not making it about sex
though he keeps having to apologize for his boner pressing into your back
a few days later he surprises you with a present, all wrapped up in with a pretty bow on top
“is it christmas?” you joke at the reindeer patterned wrapping paper
“sorry. that’s all i could find at the house.”
and it’s this huge fuck off vibrator that you know must’ve costed a fortune
you’re totally flustered when you open it and you have no idea what to do with yourself
but he’s so smiley and tells you that he wants to try it with you
and it’s really fucking good
it makes the already amazing sex that much better
you’re on your sides with him pressed against your back
and he holds it against your clit while he fucks you from behind
(he’s having an even better time too because he can feel the vibrations of it from inside of you)
you get the closest you’ve ever been like that
he watches intently when you press your face into your pillow
“are you close?”
you nod wordlessly
“i think… fuck— i think i might come”
and he starts fucking you harder, finding your spot and hitting it over and over again with the vibe still pressed attentively to your clit
a cry rises in your throat and escapes your mouth
and right when you think you might actually have your first orgasm
it fucking goes away
“fuck!”
steve can tell it’s not an exclamation of pleasure, but one of anger
he asks if you wanna keep going
you tell him he can until he comes but that you’re not gonna get there
like a doctor, he prescribes masturbation
and you spend exactly one week using the vibrator by yourself and trying to use it different ways that get you closer and closer
you’re on your back with it pressed into your opening while fiercely rubbing at your clit
and you feel yourself getting closer and closer and closer
it builds in an achingly familiar way
but when the feeling usually starts to ebb, it keeps going
the pleasure crescendos, numbs, and then explodes
having the house to yourself, you don’t bother holding back the noises, the almost painful sounding moans, as they spill from your mouth
the first thing you do when your senses return to you, is call steve
even though it’s 2 a.m.
and when he answers, he’s all groggy with sleep but he’s immediately ecstatic for you
he’s over at your place in ten minutes tops after your promise of recreating it for him
and you’re just absolutely gushing about it and thanking him a ton
because he’s the one who got you the vibrator after all
he wants you to tell him everything so you do
you tell him how you were laying and what you where thinking about
*cough cough* him
and what your fingers were doing and how the real trick was putting the vibe partly inside of you
and you don’t think about how it might make him insecure until the words are spilling from your mouth
because you’ve known guys in the past who get intimidated by dildos and vibrators out of fear that they could never compete with them
steve does express a little bit of that insecurity
he tries to cover it up by joking about how much bigger the toy is than his dick and how pretty soon he’ll be replaced altogether
and he’s laughing but you can tell it isn’t genuine because it doesn’t reach his eyes
so you tell him that you love every single part of him including his dick and that him ‘getting replaced’ is never happening in a million, billion years
when you start trying to get yourself to come again you make sure he’s involved too
both of you are kneeling on your bed and you’re gripping the headboard while he’s fucking into you from behind
one hand is clutching yours and the other is rubbing at your clit
you’ve got the vibrator pressed where you and steve meet
and you can feel him all over you
he’s mouthing at your neck and shoulder
and using his free hand to hold you and tease your nipples
you feel the pleasure start to build and your face scrunches up while you moan
and steve talks you all the way through it
“there you go. you got it— no, don’t tense up, baby, just let it happen... uh-huh, there it is. come for me, baby. come for me.”
and you do
catastrophically so
you tense so hard it almost hurts and you’re shaking like a leaf in his hold
the pleasure is numbing at first before hitting you like a fuck freight train
and you’d be embarrassed about the noises you were making if it didn’t feel so damn good and steve wasn’t praising you the entire way through
“there you go, baby. feels good, huh? you’re so— fuck, you’re getting so tight around me. can barely… holy shit… i can barely fucking move—”
you’re laughing in pure bliss when you feel him coming inside of you
he presses his weight against you and sprinkles wet kisses to your neck, humming praises onto your skin
when you come down and collect your bearings you confess to him, still caught in the post-sex haze, “it didn’t… it didn’t feel like that before…”
“no?”
“uh-uh. felt, like, a thousand times fucking better… 'cause you were here”
and he gets all sweet and blushy, saying he didn’t really do much
but you tell him that it was all him and that he helped you a ton
that he always helps you
“you’re the best sex i’ve ever had steve harrington, orgasm or not”
and this boy is blushing so hard you can see it in the tips of his ears
both of you are love-drunk and happy and dazed
he spends the rest of the night fucking you into your mattress
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