#harry styles thigh riding
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innocent | H.S oneshot
my masterlist
summary: while on the couch, harry ends up with innocent y/n on his lap, and she gets unexpectedly very worked up over his thigh being under her, and he does something about it.
warnings: SMUT! thigh riding, dirty talk, handjob (m receiving), best friend! harry, and a whole lot of praise kink.
requested by @shqtteredcrystql1
a/n: i absolutely love this request. thank you so much to the lovely user above who pmed me with it. <3
———
You shake your head at yourself.
You had not thought any of this would lead to you feeling so suddenly.. needy. But it has?
You were sitting in the lounge room of the beach house you were staying in, watching a movie with Harry while both parts of your family had gone out for the evening.
You and Harry had opted to stay back. The crowded bars being not your vibe for the night, and wanting to just chill out at the house for a while.
The movie was not long beginning in the background on the TV, with bags of half eaten snacks resting on the wooden coffee table— not that you could see any of it, as it was to the back of you.
It started when Harry and you fought over the blanket on the couch.
Pulling it off eachother just to be difficult, and roughhousing until he proposed a quick solution when your fingers started prodding his rib cage as pay back.
“C’mere— c’mere!” He rushed out, hands up in defeat as you technically won the mini physical brawl. Even though you know if he really wanted to win, he would a hundred times over, given his strength.
You went still and frowned as he didn’t follow up with a verbal explanation, and just held hands out for you to come to.
“Why?” You said, slightly amused.
“Because.” He stated.
So you moved forward to him, his hands coming in contact with your hips, and seizing you forward.
Bringing you seated in his lap.
“I can’t actually watch the movie, H.” You flush at your positioning. His hands still bracketing your waist like it’s nothing.
Which you’re confused why you’re reacting like this.
This has never happened to you with anyone else. Only ever with Harry.
And it’s not the first time it’s happened with him. You get big feelings often when he’s near you. They come out of nowhere, when he touches you gently during conversation, or when he flashes you a dimple in his smile.
And this warm feeling will swell in your chest, bubble down into your stomach… and sometimes further. It will simmer down in between your legs.
Leaving you with this feeling of being hot and bothered, in a completely foreign way.
Usually it’s only faint. A quick, fleeting feeling for you. However you’ve never had yourself situated on his lap.
His strong and muscly thigh straight underneath you— mostly bare, his shorts riding up to leave the hair dusted skin visible. His tiger tattoo hidden under you.
“Sorry, want to turn around?” He asks with a teasing lilt in his voice.
Your head snaps up from where you were looking at where your body met his— your pupils blown out a little.
Your eyes lock with his, and your reminded that this is your harry.
Your favourite person. Your best friend. Who has pretty green eyes, paired chocolatey brown curls that fall over them, and frame his gorgeous face.
Who smiles at you like this all the time, like you’re also his favourite person.
“Well i did want to watch 10 things I hate about you, instead of listening to it.” Your hands are resting on his shoulders, and he lets out a chuckle at your gentle quip.
“Alright, darling, let’s turn you around.” He laughs at you, rotating your body himself— handling you so that your facing the screen, your back plastered to the hard wall of his chest.
The new position evokes a flutter from your core, one completely unexpected to you.
And you’re hyperaware that there’s very little separating his leg from the sudden heat between yours, just a thin pair of sleep shorts.
“Better?” He asks casually into your ear, pulling the blanket to cover your laps.
“Yea, thank you.” You breathe out, sounding a little airy.
Your eyes find the screen, but your wholly distracted by his body.
His thumb circling your hip, the gentle breath from his nose hitting the back of your neck, and again, his thigh underneath you.
Your heart is stuttering.
You’re so— confused?
He’s your best friend. You know that, and you’re not sure why you’re feeling like this. If it’s normal?
Another concern of if he can feel it. Feel you.
The heat radiating from you.
You zone out a little, eyes locked on the movie screen. Eventually your breathing evening out for the most part, as you adjust to what was happening.
Focusing momentarily on the comfort of your surroundings. Harry practically enveloping you, the feeling of the couch pillows warm and soft around you.
The gentle hum of the waves crashing from the nearby ocean, sounding through the cracked open window.
Which the breeze being carried through it is just the right temperature, and just strong enough to have the candle flames flickering on top of he TV cabinet.
There’s a warm glow cast across the room from the array of candles, and salt lamp turned on in the corner.
Everything about it was homely, and comforting. And you tapped into the euphoric amount of bliss that surrounded you.
After a few minutes, Harry moved, shuffling his hips back to prop himself up.
His thigh underneath you dragging your thin sleep shorts along your centre, the pressure of his muscles rippling as he adjusted with your weight atop him causing an unbelievably pleasurable feeling to strike through you.
A whine slips past your lips before you can even stop it. The desperate sound filling the room, and it’s too late to take it back. Because you know he’s heard it with the way he stills immediately.
Embarrassment starts to flicker through you hardly a second later.
“Y/N?” He seems to almost whisper from behind you.
“God— sorry— I don’t know… I don’t know why that happened.”
He laughs, the sound golden and dipped in honey as it enters your ears, “Did you just moan?”
“No!” Your skin is flaming as you deny quickly.
He pushes his leg up to press into you again, and you purse your lips together as you try so hard not to let a sound out, or roll your hips instinctively against him.
You fail with the latter of those two things, your body pushing into his leg before you can even try to stop it.
“Hm, what’s gotten you all worked up, darling?” He let’s his hands run up along the side of your rib cage, and is admittedly very curious to what your feeling right now.
He was surprised at first, but fuck, your innocent little whimper has him feeling like he’s got a point to prove.
And he wants so badly to have you come undone under his touch.
“I— fuck…” you lean your head back into his shoulder, unable to form words.
His eyes skate down the profile of your gorgeous face, and further along your arched body.
“Want me to do something about the heat between those legs of yours, baby? Can feel how hot and bothered you are.”
“Harry…” you sigh out as you begin to give into the situation, “please.”
“Alright lovely, since you’re rubbing yourself all over my leg, keep going.”
You frown a little— well it feels good as far as your concerned now. But your unsure how to just continue.
“Here,” he turns you around again, and for a second smiles at your flushed and flustered face.
All the sudden the eye contact has you tingling again, his face enough to have you a mess in his hands.
His hands guide yours to rest on his shoulders, and then his own slide back down to your hips.
“Now, just keep doing what you were before hm, rub yourself on my thigh okay?”
He watches as you experiment with the movement, rolling forward on with your body and moaning at the sensation that it evokes in you.
“Oh.“ you grind against him again, harder this time.
“Oh—“
You clench, and he pushes his leg up into you with a moan from himself as he feels your cunt clamping around nothing.
“Fuck, y’gonna tell me why you’re so wet?” He grabs the back of your neck so you’re looking at him.
“I don’t know…” you whine, humping along his thigh. The thin fabric of your shorts going damp from your arousal.
“Your thighs. Your hands. You.” You speculate aloud, watching his pupils blow out with desire.
“My thigh under your cunt get you all worked up?”
“Yes— yes!” You groan out, jaw falling lax as your clit gets caught just right between the shorts and his thigh.
“Baby, take the shorts off. Wanna feel y’soak onto my leg.”
You hardly hear him, still pushing onto him until he physically has to lift you up.
He chuckles as you whine at the absence of contact.
“Tell me, Y/N, Is this okay?” He confirms, pulling your leg from in between his, so now you’re laying practically bridal style in his arms.
“Please. Take them off.” You nod eagerly, back arching in his hold.
He laughs, hair falling again across his brow.
“Let me savour this okay. Look too pretty for your own good.” He mumbles, leaning down to let his lips meet the skin of your neck.
You groan as he sucks the skin into his mouth, and his hand skates up the hem of your shirt, running between the valley of your braless breasts.
“If you need to stop,” he licks over the skin on your neck he was just abusing with his teeth, “let me know, love.”
“I won’t, please keep going…”
You hiss as his hand wraps around your tit, letting his finger tweak the peak of your nipple before running it back down, past your belly button to settle between your still covered pussy.
“Where were we,” he hums gently, rubbing you over your soaked through shorts.
“Off, Harry, please.” Your sentences weren’t properly formed, and you scraped your nails down the muscle of his tattooed bicep.
“God, listen to you. Can you hear how whiney your pretty voice sounds?”
He says it in such a way it sounds like a compliment. The typical connotation of whiney being negative. But he says it like you’re an angel for it.
He peels your shorts down your legs, and audibly groans at the sight of your naked cunt in front of him.
“I should’ve known you didn’t even have a pair of panties on.” He gently taps over your bare clit, and the light touch still has you squirming.
He rubs you a little, allowing the pads of his fingers to tease your entrance. Not before man handling you back on top of his thigh.
Your blindsided by how amazing everything feels.
“Alright darling, use me. Grind that wet little cunt on my thigh to get off.” His words have you fluttering around nothing, and him feeling your bare entrance clenching atop his skin makes his already hard cock twitch beneath the waistband of his shorts.
His hand comes down to palm over himself, delivering a gentle squeeze to try and relieve some of the pressure down there.
You pant as you resume a relatively fast pace, aided by the fact your arousal is dampening his leg. Making it easier to slide yourself on.
“Mmm, god. It feels so good!” You moan out, hands coming to his shoulders to brace yourself.
“So does your pussy on my leg, baby. You’re so wet for me. Who would have thought my little Y/N would get so worked up over sitting on my thigh of all things.” He praises, hands coming to cup the swell of your ass
“No one’s ever— fuck— made me feel like this.” You cry, the stimulation along your clit euphoric.
“Ever, huh?”
You nod, “Ever.”
He could just moan at the thought. That his sweet thing is completely foreign to sexual experiences with other people. That you got all wet on his thigh and had no idea why.
The idea that you weren’t sure why you were trying so hard not to push your pussy onto him. And that you’re probably so sensitive down there, so reactive.
That last one has him struggling not to place you on that coffee table and fuck your hole with his tongue.
He only held back because the sight of your riding his thigh was indescribably hot.
“Good girl f’me, let me help you, make y’come all on my thigh.” He hummed, pushing his leg up to add some more pressure on your clit.
“Harry!” Your pretty voice moaned out as his hands came to guide your hips, to push them faster and harder against his skin.
The control he was taking over you was enough to make you almost drip. Because even if he was so gentle about it, it was insane.
He pushed your bucking hips down, and his leg up, making a delicious pressure that had an unfathomable heat simmer between your legs.
“I wanna come on your leg, Harry, please…” you’re pleading him, hips messily fucking over his skin.
“Yea, baby? My perfect little slut.” He tests out the nickname, watching as your whole body reacts with a quiver at his dirty mouth.
“Oh, you really do like it dirty…” he realises out loud, smirking as you moan.
“Look down at your cunt riding my leg, humping all over it.” He gently laces his hand in your hair, tilting your head down, “How about when you’re done, I get you on your knees and make you clean it up?”
Your mouth goes slack, and it’s baffling to hear such words coming from him.
Yet he could ask you to do anything at this point and you’re convinced you wouldn’t even hesitate before doing it.
“I will, I will!” You nod, thighs quivering on each side of his own.
“Cmon pretty, fuck,” he bucks into his hand that was stroking over his fabric-clad cock, “wanna watch you come. Hear you cry out my name.”
Your clit was pulsing along his now drenched tattoo, and you could feel your muscles tightening in your stomach.
The simmering feeling in your core that you had originally started with has turned into a pot that was about to boil over.
“Harry, ohmygod—“ you whined, falling further into his chest, hands coming up to intertwine with his hair.
He pushed his thigh up against you, and the pressure finally peaked, and you teetered on the brink of orgasm.
You were moaning into his ear, and he could feel your pussy clenching around nothing, waiting for that final little nudge.
“Good fucking girl, let it all go f’me.” He growls into your ear, accent husky, and the words zip straight to where you needed it.
You let out a loud moan of his name, nails dragging down along his shoulders as you messily grind through the pleasure.
He is groaning at the sight. Just as fucking beautiful as he imagined.
Your back arched, and he could feel your cunt pulsating around his leg. It was filthy, and he loved every damn second of it.
“Oh, god— harry, please!” You whimpered, your core jutting against him still, but now with slower more irratic movements.
“That’s it, ride it out on me love. Fuck.” He curses as you absentmindedly drag your lips down the column of his neck.
You slowly come to a stop, the stimulation too much for you now. And your panting as you pull back to look at Harry, and the mess you made atop his thigh.
You lock eyes with him, his hair is messy, and cheeks are flushed. You smile at him, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on his also smiling lips.
You glance down between your legs, spotting immediately the glistening skin of Harry’s leg, and how his finger reaches to get a sample and bring it to his lips.
Watching, he sucks his finger into his mouth, humming at the taste of you on his tongue.
“Taste like a dream, my darling.”
He gathers some more on the same finger, bringing it up to your own lips, letting you suck on them.
“Mm, good isn’t it? Look so good with your mouth wrapped ‘round m’fingers.” He praises, eyes darkening at the sight of your lips sucking his long digits.
You slide off them, taking in his beautiful appearance again. How the warm glow of the lounge room light is casting over his tan skin.
You’re still a little muddled about everything that just occurred. And that the little crush that’s always festered in your head when it comes it Harry has just led you here.
Him being the first person to ever see your pussy, and make you come. On his thigh of all places.
“Thank you…” you flush, a little shyness coming out.
“Don’t get shy with me baby, just watched y’come on my thigh. No room for that.” He smiles, pulling you into his chest.
“Now,” he begins again, stroking the small of your back, “let’s go get cleaned up before everyone suddenly comes home to you still half-naked on my lap.”
You laugh a little as he pecks your cheek, “then we can come back to the couch, and rewind 10 things I hate about you and share some ice cream, m’kay?”
“And uhm, what about you?” You gesture to the tent in his shorts.
“Worry about that another time, alright lovely. Not tonight, that was all for you.” He confirms.
“It’ll just… go away?” You frown, confused— and a little embarrassed you didn’t know what would happen with it.
“Should mostly. Might still have a semi, since all I’m gonna be able to think about is what y’taste like. But again, you can worry about me another day.”
You shake your head, “i want to worry about you now though…”
He blinks slowly, “Fuck, well if you keep bloody begging me to get y’hands on my cock, I’m not gonna be strong enough to tell ya no.”
“Never, uh, done this before. As long as that doesn’t put you off.” You shrug, watching his green eyes flick between your hand and his erection.
“Don’t stress, darling. I have been pretty much about to come at the sight of you, I don’t think it’s gonna take much.”
“And for the record,” he rests a hand on your hip, “nothing could put my off of you. Especially when it comes to you touching me.”
You nod, slowly. Still a little unsure as you reach down to pull the waistband of his shorts from his laurel-adorning hips.
He lifts his hips so you can pull them down, far enough that his cock springs out of them.
Your lips parted at the sight, his flushed tip, with beads of precum seeping out, blotting along down his shaft.
His cock was as gorgeous as you’d imagined. Because of course a pretty boy like him would have such a nice cock.
Not that you have much to judge off, but if the smooth skin and the sudden overproduction of saliva in your mouth was any inkling… you would say he was perfect.
Your hand reached to stroke along him, noticing the lack of lubrication.
You put to use the gathering pool of spit in your mouth, and you pursed your lips to let some of it drop down onto his tip.
He had a whole body reaction as he felt your warm spit slip down the head of his cock. A moan sounded from him, and he sounded like an angel.
“Fuckkk, already spitting on my cock. Little minx y’are.” His eyes went half lidded, and he fought to keep them open. Just to watch your all too curious expression and your hands glide over his cock.
“Faster?” You asked, looking for advice.
“Squeeze it, baby. Then stroke it.” He directed, struggling to form the words.
Then struggling even more not to cry out as you did just as he asked.
“Y/N.” He hissed, bucking his hips up as you started stroking his cock with a moderate pace.
“You look very pretty.” You meekly stated, admiring the way his face has flushed and lips have parted all from your touch.
You speed up your hands, watching intensely as he takes his bottom lip between his teeth in attempt to control himself.
“My god, your hands…” He moans, arm coming to drape over his forehead as he rolled his hips into your warm hand.
You took liberty to swipe your thumb over his tip, and your eyebrows raising as his whole body shudders.
“To know you’re fucking my cock with your spit and your hand.” He sighs out, heat building in his stomach.
“Can I touch here too?” Your hand gently ghosts over where his balls are, and you’re not sure if that’s somewhere he wants you to touch.
“Fuck yes, baby. Ohhh god, I’m gonna come so fast.” He is moaning suddenly without care as you massage him attentively.
Dragging your hands back up to his cock, you continue to stroke and rub along him.
“Want to see you finish too…” you smile, also excited to see the way his body reacts when he comes.
“Cant wait to paint your hand in my fuckin’ come.” He pants, hand gripping the couch cushion near his head.
He can probably feel you getting wet on him again. Seeing him like this has you a mess.
“Fuck— any faster and I’m gonna come on your hand Y/N.” He moans, now his thighs being the ones trembling.
You fuck his cock with your fist faster, in awe of the way he moans out as his orgasm hits him.
Ropes of his warm come spurting out his tip, spilling down your hand as you keep up the pace.
Waiting until he whines with the overstimulation.
“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He shakes his head, blissed out from his orgasm.
Hazily taking in the way you lick a stripe up your thumb, where his come had landed.
You enjoyed the flavour of it, salty and overall pleasant on your tastebuds.
“Can I?” You leant down, wanting more off his cock.
“God, love— wanting to clean the come off my damn cock it tasted that good.” He praises you, letting your mouth gently slide over his softening dick.
You make quick work of the mess, and he remarks shortly, “fuck, gonna have to spend some more time later with your mouth wrapped around me. You’re like an angel.”
Once you’re done, you pull his shorts back over him and watch him smile, dragging you in for another soft kiss— regardless of whether his dick was just in your mouth.
“Alright pretty, let’s get cleaned up before you start grinding anymore on my thigh. Can feel you already getting wet again.”
“Yes, Harry.” You whisper, letting him pick you up and carry you to the bathroom.
———
#harry styles#harry styles smut#harry styles imagine#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles oneshot#harry styles fluff#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#fanfiction#best friend!harry#fwb harry#he’s so fine#fbh#frat boy harry#harry styles smutshot#smut#thigh riding
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i’m loving the slow burn of vanilla lime sm so far totally keep that going
OKAY THAT'S GOOD TO KNOW!!!! just an idea! but what would u guys think abt slight smut but their day-to-day dynamic stays the same??? like a little moment of weakness on demonrry's part and then the next day he's like 'idk why you're acting so weird'. but he's obviously affected inside.
i defo think if no smut in part 3 it'll have to happen in part 4 because i am struggling to not have them be boning. ALSO! i haven't planned it out fully but i'd say we're probably looking at this story having 5 to 6 parts overall if that puts it into perspective! :D
#what abt a little thigh riding or dry humping :o#i feel like as long as they don't kiss it kind of doesn't count lol#anon#demonrry#demon!harry#harry ask#harry styles smut#vanilla lime
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you have been invited to cece's smutober event! pick a day and dive right in. but be warned of the spooky surprises you may encounter.
.
day one: steve harrington + dry humping
day two: lando norris + phone sex
day three: james potter + erotica
day four: quinn hughes + car sex
day five: charlos + free use
day six: theo nott + humiliation
day seven: dando + blindfold
day eight: remus lupin + chocolate
day nine: max verstappen + somnophilia
day ten: luke hughes + cockwarming
day eleven: lestappen + objectification
day twelve: eddie munson + squirting
day thirteen: poly!marauders + orgasm control
day fourteen: daniel ricciardo + first time
day fifteen: harry styles + filming
day sixteen: jack hughes + thigh riding
day seventeen: sebastian vettel + corruption
day eighteen: steve harrington + breeding kink
day nineteen: wolfstar + sex pollen
day twenty: charles leclerc + aphrodisiac
day twenty-one: sirius black + semi-public sex
day twenty-two: carlando + seduction
day twenty-three: trevor zegras + overstimulation
day twenty-four: norstappen + mile high club
day twenty-five: steddie + cuckholding
day twenty-six: charlando + tit-fucking
day twenty-seven: eddie munson + mastrubation
day twenty-eight: maxiel + heat
day twenty-nine: jack hughes and trevor zegras + intoxication
day thirty: carlos sainz + manhandling
day thirty-one: steddie + wet dream
.
logging off...
#cece's smutober#stranger things#marauders#f1#nhl#stranger things x reader#marauders x reader#f1 x reader#nhl x reader#harry potter x reader#steve harrington x reader#eddie munson x reader#steddie x reader#james potter x reader#sirius black x reader#remus lupin x reader#wolfstar x reader#poly!marauders x reader#daniel riccardo x reader#charles leclerc x reader#carlos sainz x reader#lando norris x reader#max verstappen x reader#sebastian vettel x reader#quinn hughes x reader#jack hughes x reader#luke hughes x reader#trevor zegras x reader#harry styles x reader#theo nott x reader
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Riding Shotgun || CL16 & PG10 {2}
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader x Pierre Gasly
Summary: Just some more smut with your boyfriend and ex.
Warnings: 18+ only, threesome, smut, blow job, exhibitionism
WC: 1.1k
F1 Masterlist || Part One
“When you said we’re going to a concert I thought you meant like Harry Styles or something, not…this.”
Charles looked across the red velvet upholstered couch with gilded wooden armrests, past you and on to his friend. The seat was definitely built to look sophisticated because comfort was not something you would say it had as you shifted the small cushion again and leaned into Charles' side.
“This is Vivaldi. Have some culture, Pierre.”
Pierre leaned closer to you and toyed with the thin strap of your evening dress, slipping it off your shoulder before kissing the bare skin. “I had far better ideas on how we could spend our Saturday night.”
Your breasts nearly fell out of the bust as the strap fell away and Charles’ attention was pulled away from the concert. He eyed the supple skin with a look of hunger before dipping his head to trace his tongue over the swell before grazing his teeth.
Your head fell back with a moan but it was cut off as Pierre covered your mouth. “Uh-uh, no sounds or we stop.” His hand fell away and you bit your lip to keep silent. “Good girl.”
The private box high up in the theatre had an excellent view of the stage but it wasn’t completely hidden from sight. It was only the fact that the lights had gone dark as the concert began that meant the other boxes around you couldn’t see inside. If the interval started and the lights came on then there were plenty of people who could see what the three of you were doing.
The thought made you feral with need and your legs parted so the slit of your dress bared the skin of your thigh.
Charles’ fingers teased along the strip of skin before disappearing beneath the material and he groaned softly. “Pierre, did you plan this?”
Pierre looked confused and you smirked at him. “I’m not wearing anything underneath this. Anything.”
“Mon dieu,” he chuckled quietly as he opened his trousers and freed himself. “You’re such a dirty little slut, you should be on your knees.”
You slipped off the couch and knelt between Pierre’s spread legs to watch him lazily stroke his length with a smirk. Your cunt tightened at the thought of sharing him and Charles again and you looked at your boyfriend as you pushed Pierre’s hand away and teased the tip of his cock with your tongue.
“I want you to fuck me,” you whispered to Charles before your ability to speak was lost. Pierre’s hand had spread across the back of your head and pushed you down as he thrust his hips up, burying himself in your throat until your lungs burned and your eyes watered.
“Fuck, that’s a good girl,” he moaned as he watched your spit run down you chin a moment before pulling you back down again. “Come on, Charles, tell me how wet she is.”
Way down below on the stage, the violins were working their way to a crescendo when the material of your dress was bunched up your back and Charles’ fingers teased your slit. Pierre moaned softly and you rolled your eyes up his body to find his tongue rolling over Charles’ fingers in his mouth, sharing your taste with his friend.
Heat flared in your belly at the sight and you imagined them sharing even more as a throb built between your legs. An orgasm was building and Charles hadn’t even touched you properly let alone fucked you and a needy whine escaped as Pierre let you take a breath.
“Please,” you begged as you jiggled your ass for him.
Charles laughed softly as he gripped your hips to still them before giving you what you wanted. The sound that would have escaped when he filled your pussy was stolen as Pierre started to fuck your mouth and all you could hear was the sound of the violins exploding into chorus.
It was a race against time as the orchestra worked their way through the Four Seasons' pieces and Charles recognised Winter first. You had been edging Pierre, teasing him and pulling away when his abs tensed under your fingers and his knees tightened around your ribs. At the same time, Charles had been edging you. But now that the final piece was playing, playtime was over.
Charles reached around your hip and pressed the pad of his finger to your clit, circling it in time to the quick pace he set with his hips. Each thrust rocked you against Pierre and his head fell back as you took him as deep as you could, fighting your gag reflex as you slipped a hand down his body and gently squeezed his balls as they tightened in your palm.
Every muscle tensed across every body as the pleasure became too much, the built tension finally snapping. Your hands slapped down on Pierre’s thighs, nails digging into him as your orgasm rocked through before he bucked his hips up and you tasted his cum as it filled your mouth. Heat filled your cunt as Charles’ fingers dug into your hips and you felt his cock pulsing with his release, each twitch sending an aftershock down your legs.
“Shit,” Charles panted as he looked to the stage in time to hear the last note echoing around the room. “Lights.”
He abruptly pulled out and left you empty as he pulled your dress back into place before dropping into the chair and tugging you up with him. Pierre couldn’t stop shaking with silent laughter as he rushed to tuck himself back into his trousers just before the chandeliers warmed to a soft glow that illuminated the full theatre.
“Nice lipstick,” he smirked as he ran his thumb across your swollen lips.
“Nice lipstick,” he smirked as he ran his thumb across your swollen lips. “You’re such a mess.”
You smirked back as you crossed your legs and felt the warm wet cum dripping down your thighs. “You have no idea.”
The second half passed quickly with everyone leaning against the other, relaxed and recuperating with the knowledge the night was still young.
“Which was your favourite, baby?” you asked Charles as the concert finished.
His lips curled up in a sexy smile as he pulled you into his arms. “Take a guess.”
It was always Winter, he knew the song like the back of his hand but now it held a new level of enjoyment for him.
“You know how I said you’re a mess,” Pierre said as he watched you kiss your boyfriend. “Yeah…you might want to give her your jacket.”
Charles turned you around as Pierre chewed on his bottom lip, desire swimming in his eyes as you felt the cold damp spot at the back of your dress.
Charles’ jacket draped over your shoulders and you slipped your arms through the warm sleeves as he kissed your neck. “My bad.”
You giggled as you checked the back of the jacket hung low enough to cover your ass before slipping your fingers into his to leave with everyone else. “Don’t worry, I still love you.”
#piarles x reader#pierre gasly x reader#Charles Leclerc x reader#pierre gasly fanfic#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc smut#pierre gasly smut#pierre gasly x y/n#pierre gasly imagine#charles leclerc imagine
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Harry Styles Fic Recs
ANGST
Ex-Girlfriend (@mydearesthrry)
Full Throttle (@bunnyteetharry)
when you know, you know (^)
Say you love me (@stylesharrys)
watched (@chrisevansonly)
closed off (@hes-writer)
champagne problems (@avatar-anna)
new year's wish (@harrysfolklore)
FLUFF
Drunk Harry (@jarofstyles)
Dynamic (@mydearesthrry)
baby (^)
Rings and nervous things (@trulyonlygrapejuice)
lingering (@stylescine)
angelica (@jollytaleswriter)
Impossibly real (@writingsfromhome)
dimples (@watchmegetobsessed)
the usual (^)
now and forever pt 2 (^)
mistletoe (^)
soon to be us (@chrisevansonly)
firsts (@finelinevogue)
spreading the love (^)
Christmassy kisses (^)
love her stupid (^)
knight in skinny jeans (@stylesharrys)
love me like you do (^)
baby styles (^)
snooze (@avatar-anna)
baby I'm yours (@bunnyteetharry)
SMUT
thigh riding (@justlemmeadoreyou)
SERIES
gold rush pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 (@adore-laur)
style (@lilystyles)
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Harry Styles Masterlist
Series
Ruin (complete) - in which an innocent YN goes into her very first gynaecology appointment unsure of what she should expect. her first visit is definitely not what she’d expected [gynaecologist harry]
Just A Little Taste (ongoing) - in which YN books a much needed massage appointment from someone named H. Styles. Imagine her surprise when the most beautiful man she’s ever seen arrives for her massage [masseuse harry]
One Shots
Adjustment* - in which yn has an attitude and harry fixes it [fiancè harry]
Quality Time* - in which harry and yn spend some quality time on the couch [cottage core harry]
Maison* - in which harry returns home after being away and just wants to be close to his wife [ceo harry]
Align* - in which yn is bent over doing yoga and harry wants her to stay just like that [stepdad harry]
Wake Up Call* - in which harry comes home after a long flight to a wonky ac and a wife who’s fast asleep [nhl player harry]
Restless* - yn is needy after seeing harry come home after a match, but he needs his rest [boxer harry]
Grumpy* - in which harry comes home to yn in a bad mood and makes all of those nasty feelings go away [nhl player harry]
Just One More* - in which yn is ready for a baby and harry can’t get enough [nhl player harry]
Focus* - in which yn keeps eyeing harry’s arms and he puts them to good use [dad’s best friend harry]
Little Freak*- a sneaky YN decides to tease her secret boyfriend from across the room, and Harry doesn’t like his patience tested [dads bestfriend harry]
Tastes So Sweet* - Harry and YN indulge after a day out together [bestfriend harry]
Partition* - in which yn is mad at harry and he lets her take her frustrations out on him [ceo harry]
Got Me Right Where You Want Me* - YN and Harry spend a day on the golf course together, but she won’t make it easy for him [ceo harry]
Kiss in the Kitchen like it’s a Dance Floor* - Harry comes home after a long day at work and wants nothing more than to spend an evening with his wife. She never fails to remind him of how they’re perfect for each other [ceo harry]
Simplicity* - Something as simple as Harry scrolling on his phone can send a pregnant Yn into a frenzy [ceo harry]
Can’t Get You Off My Mind* - with YN’s mother out of town for the weekend, and most likely Harry, YN has decided to get a little wild. what she doesn’t know is that she should check her sources before inviting people into her home [dads bestfriend harry]
Could We Live With Just A Taste* - Harry and YN decide to make some vegan weed brownies that she saw on tiktok and end up eating way more than the recommended amount. The both of them being heavily intoxicated leads to an unexpected end to the night [plug harry]
I Don’t Wanna Talk To You* - YN shows up to Harry’s house for an impromptu visit and what she finds literally flips her upside down [cheater harry]
I Just Want What’s Mine* - Harry and YN attend a pack party, and when she decides to tease him, he shows her why she shouldn’t [werewolf harry]
Walk Through Fire For You - after a draining week at work, Harry takes it upon himself to try and make YN feel better [roommate/bestfriend harry]
subspace*
Harry fingering YN in the mirror*
Thigh riding and finger sucking*
Quickie* Part 2* [DBF Harry]
One of Harry’s employees is rude to YN without knowing who she is [CEO Harry]
pregnant reader wants to ride ceo harry*
mafia harry goes on a tampon run*
first mother’s day without yn [widower harry]
~
#harry styles fic rec#harry styles smut#harryistheonlyoneforme#harry styles fic#harry styles filth#dbf harry styles#harry styles#smut#harry related writings#dbf harry#masterlist#smut masterlist#dbf!harry#dadsbestfriend harry#plugrry#plug harry
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Wizarding World ➵ Porn Links
ʚ characters ɞ james potter, sirius black, remus lupin, regulus black, harry potter, ron weasley, fred weasley, george weasley, neville longbottom, draco malfoy.
ʚ warnings ɞ contains nudity, sexual themes and mature content. please do not interact if you are a minor.
ʚ notes ɞ links are from twitter & those that don't work will be removed. all characters mentioned are 18+!! (nsfw/taboo afab scenarios) <33
╰┈➤ marauders era !
➳ fwb!sirius black putting you in your place
bf!sirius black trying to ruin your phone call
dbf!sirius black letting you ride him
bf!sirius black recording you cumming for him
➳ dbf!remus lupin accidentally breeding you
professor!remus lupin giving you a private lesson
bf!remus lupin loves cuddle fucking
professor!remus lupin takes his stress out on his fav student
➳ dbf!james potter can't stop himself so he fucks you on the sofa
sub!james potter fucking you from behind
bf!james potter loves watching him stretch you out
dilf!james potter punishing you by spanking you
➳ bf!regulus black face fucking you for the first time
bf!regulus black loves making your legs shake
fwb!regulus black pounding into you
fwb!regulus black loves when your legs are on his shoulders
╰┈➤ golden trio era !
➳ stepbro!ron weasley teasing you with his cock
bf!ron weasley taking you from behind
roommate!ron weasley helping you feel better
fwb!ron weasley loves fucking his doll
➳ bf!fred weasley making it hard for you not to get caught
bf!fred weasley loves when you're on top of him
fwb!fred weasley loves touching you under the dinner table
bf!fred weasley teasing you in the kitchen before everyone wakes up
➳ roomate!george weasley can't stop touching you
bf!george weasley loves eating you out
fwb!george weasley can't sleep so you help each other out
bf!george weasley letting you try reverse cowgirl
➳ fwb!neville longbottom trying the pull out method
sub!neville longbottom using your thighs to get off
bf!neville longbottom loves when you're on top
bf!neville longbottom having car sex w/you
➳ bf!draco malfoy loves when you wear stockings
bf!draco malfoy making you cum more than once
fwb!draco malfoy having fun with your ass
stepbro!draco malfoy eats you out
➳ roommate!harry potter trying doggy style for the first time
bf!harry potter let's you ride him until he cums
fwb!harry potter asks you to sit on his face
bf!harry potter loves stretching you out
@ʷⁱˢᵉʷᵒˡᶠᵖʳⁱⁿᶜᵉ
#harry potter p.links#wizarding world p.links#harry potter smut#marauders smut#golden trio smut#harry potter x you#ron weasley x you#fred weasley x you#george weasley x you#james potter x you#sirius black x you#remus lupin x you#regulus black x you#neville longbottom x you#draco malfoy x you#ron weasley smut#fred weasley smut#george weasley smut#james potter smut#sirius black smut#remus lupin smut#regulus black smut#neville longbottom smut#draco malfoy smut
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Halloween Party
Halloween special n°1
Mattheo riddle x reader
Summary: Cormac Mclaggen hit on you at the annual halloween party and your boyfriend is not happy about it
The Halloween nights were always magical at Hogwarts, and the Slytherin dormitory was hosting an extravagant party. My friends Hermione, Cho, Ginny, and I were buzzing with excitement as we prepared for the evening. Cho looked stunning in her demon costume, Hermione was an angel, and Ginny a daring pirate. I, on the other hand, had chosen a short red corset-style Little Red Riding Hood outfit, which I knew was rather revealing but had decided to take the risk.
We laughed and helped each other with the final touches of our costumes, sharing makeup and styling tips. It was a blast getting ready together, and the thought of spending the evening with my friends at the Slytherin party filled me with joy.
“ You know , Ron will fall in love with your dress Hermione, “ you said with a sly smile.
Getting a embarrassed smile from Hermione
Once we were all decked out, we made our way to the party. The Slytherin common room was transformed into a mesmerizing wonderland of Halloween decorations. At the party there were Witches' hats, broomsticks, and bat silhouettes everywhere in the big room and themed banners with phrases like "Happy Halloween" or spooky motifs were strung across walls and doorways.
As we entered, I noticed couples pairing off with their respective dates. Cho found her boyfriend, Hermione was dancing with Ron, and Ginny had disappeared into the crowd to find Harry.
I scanned the room, searching for my boyfriend, Mattheo Riddle. My heart sank when I couldn't spot him among the dancing witches and wizards. I decided to wander around in the hope of finding him.
As I moved through the room, my discomfort in the revealing outfit grew, and I began to feel self-conscious. Just as I was contemplating returning to my friends, Cormac McLaggen, one of the most notorious flirts at Hogwarts, approached me. His eyes lingered on my costume, and a sly grin crept onto his face.
"Little Red Riding Hood, you look absolutely enchanting tonight," Cormac purred, his gaze making me squirm uncomfortably.
"Thank you," I replied, feeling my cheeks grow warm. I had heard about Cormac's reputation and hoped to avoid any awkward encounters.
He leaned in closer, his fingers brushing against my thigh, and I stiffened, taking a step back. "You know, you and I could have quite the adventure tonight."
Before I could respond, Mattheo suddenly appeared by my side, his expression dark and protective. He stepped between Cormac and me, his voice dripping with warning. "I think you've overstepped your boundaries, Cormac."
Cormac raised an eyebrow, his arrogance unwavering. "Just trying to have a little fun, Riddle."
Mattheo's eyes flashed with anger, and he didn't hesitate. In one swift motion, he grabbed Cormac by the collar and pulled him aside, effectively blocking him from me. Their exchange was intense and heated, and I couldn't hear their words over the music.
But it didn't matter. I felt an overwhelming rush of relief knowing that Mattheo had my back. He didn't let anyone disrespect or make me uncomfortable. As Cormac was led away from me, my boyfriend turned back to me, his expression softening.
"Are you okay?" he asked, concern in his eyes.
I nodded and smiled, relieved to be in Mattheo's protective embrace. "I'm better now. Thanks for being my knight in shining armor."
“ Did i say to you that you look amazing in that dress and I can't help but think about how you'll look in it later when we're alone."
"Oh, you noticed, huh?"you said blushing
"How could I not? You're absolutely stunning. And it's driving me crazy, thinking about what we'll do later in private, with you in that pretty outfit." Adding a gentle and loving kiss on my lips.
#harry potter#mattheo riddle#lorenzo berkshire#fanfiction#halloween#halloween fanfiction#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle blurb#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo riddle fluff#mattheo riddle fanfic#mattheo riddle fanfiction#mattheo riddle fic#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader#golden trio#harry potter fanfic
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We'll Be Alright | Spencer Reid x F! Reader
Summary: In which you discover that the line between love and hate is quite fine. Your actions are done out of love, but they only make you hate yourself more and more. Inspired by "Fine Line" by Harry Styles
Cross posted on Wattpad and AO3 and here is my masterlist!
WC: 9.1k
Warnings: Angst, a lot of angst, pining, mention of Ed Gein, mention of blood, use of guns, that sorta thing
a/n: Back at it again with another Spencer Reid oneshot. I hope you all like it, I think this is one of my favorites so far.
"I could live with you hating me, but I couldn't live in a world without you."
With a smile on your face you listen to Spencer ramble on about how he put the pieces together to find the unsub while you two ride to the scene together. He speaks with such passion and you don't think you'll ever get tired of listening to him, his mind is a brilliant thing and you make sure to remind him every chance you get. You can tell that sometimes when he gets fired up about something he starts becoming insecure, fearing that the others will make some snide comment or dismiss his thoughts. But not you, you listen intently every time, hanging onto every word.
Spencer has played a very vital role in developing you into the analyst you are today. Where the others were satisfied with letting you learn on your own, and showing you pointers here and there, Spencer took the time to explain nuanced ideas to you. He showed genuine interest and care, and you gave him your undivided attention. This dynamic created a tight bond with the two of you, allowing you to work together seamlessly and at times, it's like you read each other's thoughts.
"I knew you could do it." You tell him as you pull onto the scene. He utters a thanks as the two of you get out of the car and join the rest of the team.
The unsub is nearby and the team is just waiting for him to show up; Garcia had been able to track his phone and his movement aligned with the area you and Spencer had narrowed down as the next area of interest. Hotch, Morgan, and Emily give you both a nod of acknowledgement and the five of you begin scouting out the area to look for any signs of the unsub, he should be here by now.
This particular unsub sent a chill down your spine, and not much gets to you anymore. His modus operandi was always to kill his victims, skin them, and use their flesh for various purposes. It's like he was trying to be Gein's prodigy, except he never dug up a grave, he preferred to kill them all himself. The team had found his workshop early in the investigation, but the unsub was nowhere to be found, until now. Seeing household objects made of flesh isn't going to soon leave your memory, you're sure of it.
"There he is!" Morgan yells and points to a man crossing the street with a paper bag in his hand. Everyone takes off in a sprint towards him and you pull your firearm from the holster strapped to your thigh. The unsub takes off, trying to evade you all.
Emily and Hotch split up from the rest of the team to try and cut him off up ahead, leaving you, Spencer, and Morgan trailing him. The little man is fast, you'll give him that much. Eventually, he ducks down an alleyway, unaware it's a dead end, and turns back to look at you all with wide, stunned eyes. You see the panic in his eyes and as Morgan shouts instructions at him, you see him reach inside of his jacket.
The unsub pulls a gun of his own and aims it right at Spencer. Your heartbeat echoes in your ears. Spencer puts his hands up in surrender while you and Morgan keep your sights trained on him.
"Put the guns down or I'll shoot him, I swear I'll do it, just like the others!" The unsub declares while switching the safety off of his gun. Your hands begin to shake with adrenaline, but you don't put your gun down. Faintly, you can hear Morgan informing Hotch and Emily of the situation via radio but it's like you have tunnel vision on the man in front of you.
"Do it now!" He screams erratically and you see his finger dance on the trigger, just about to pull it.
An internal battle wages itself inside your mind, trying to quickly assess the pros and cons of listening to the man. Just as you go to lower your gun, you see the man grin sickeningly at Spencer with an evil glint shining in his eye; you've seen that look before. Without thinking, you turn and knock Spencer out of the way just as you hear the shot go off. Spencer slams into the brick wall beside him, chest heaving with panicked breaths. Behind you, you can hear Morgan yelling something but his voice sounds miles away.
All you feel is a blinding, white-hot pain.
Blinking rapidly, you look down and see that your shirt is quickly becoming stained a deep scarlet red. Your heart is pumping at an alarming pace, you can feel your pulse in your neck. The red stain keeps growing but your mind can't comprehend what's going on. Large hands obscure the stain from your view, and you finally look up to see Spencer's hazel eyes, wide and afraid.
He gently brings your body to the ground, leaning you against the brick wall you had shoved him into. His hands apply pressure to the wound, sending a shockwave of pain through your entire body. It feels like you can't catch your breath, you fight for oxygen every few seconds and even that makes your body feel like you've just been set ablaze. The edges of your vision start going black, and you can't really see anything clearly anymore. Your mind is a jumble of incoherent thoughts that just sounds like static.
"Hey, hey look at me. Come on now. Stay with me. Please." You feel a tap on your cheek and your blurry vision can make out Spencer's form, his fingers coated in red. A wave of nausea and pain racks through your system, and you try to reach out for Spencer, but your arms are just too heavy, and words take too much effort. It's easier to just close your eyes.
-----
A constant beeping sound stirs you awake. You don't even remember falling asleep. Trying to open your eyes feels like an impossible task, like they've been bonded shut with super glue. Your throat feels like a desert, and you start to panic, not remembering where you are. Mental images of the unsub's flesh creations flash through your mind and you start panicking, thinking that somehow he got you.
The panic is enough to make your eyes open, and you're greeted with bright lights. Flinching, you squint your eyes and look around. This isn't the unsub's workshop, no, this looks like a hospital. Your eyes travel down your body, seeing lines embedded in your arms, a plastic piece clamped over your finger, and a large white bandage wrapped around your stomach. As if on cue, your stomach starts to burn like hot coals had just been placed there. An image of Spencer's hand covered in bright red flashes behind your eyelids.
A nurse walks through the doors and smiles when she catches your eye. She comes to your bedside and sets down an IV bag full of clear liquid.
"Glad to see you're finally awake. How do you feel?" She asks and you go to answer her, but your throat is too dry, so you just end up coughing. The nurse crosses your room and returns moments later with a plastic cup half full of water. Greedily, you take it from her and drink the water, a lone stream wandering down your chin. Once the cup is empty, you decide to finally answer her.
"Not great." You admit, trying to reposition but unable to do so because of the pain. The nurse nods as she hangs the new IV bag from the metal rack beside your bed.
"I imagine so. I'll give you something to dull the pain." She tells you, resting a gentle hand on your upper arm. Your eyes are glued to her hand and you nod, anticipating the relief of pain medication.
"What exactly happened?" You ask, only able to remember tiny bits and pieces. The image of Spencer's hand refuses to leave your mind but you just can't remember what happened before, or after, that moment. The nurse looks down to the bandage covering your torso.
"An ambulance brought you in last night. You got shot through the abdomen and had to be rushed into surgery. There was sustained damage to your liver and other intestines, but nothing life-threatening. You gave your coworkers quite the scare though, they didn't want to leave but we had to send them home." Her voice is soothing despite the words leaving her mouth, like she was used to delivering this sort of news. Which she probably is. You stare down at the bandage on your stomach, trying to remember anything else, but being unsuccessful.
"So when can I leave?" You ask, knowing that there's an incident report or two waiting for you on your desk. Truthfully, you'd rather do anything but those reports right now, seeing as how you can't even remember a major event, but you know the job doesn't allow for much downtime.
"Probably tomorrow or the next day depending on how well you're doing." She reassures you, and you can live with that. If the team wants the paperwork done that badly, they can bring it to you. Otherwise, you're perfectly content to stay here for a little while. The nurse exits the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
From what you can remember, Spencer was definitely there when you got shot. His hands were covered in your blood, that part you can vividly remember. Your heart sinks as you are able to recall the look in his eyes, how scared he was. You hope he doesn't blame himself for what happened, you know it isn't his fault even if you can't quite remember how it all went down. If the roles were reversed you can't even imagine the wreck you would be; the thought alone makes you sick.
-----
The next day your doctor clears you for discharge, and you call Hotch to come pick you up. You have no family to call to get you or take care of you, Hotch and the team are the closest thing you have. You had almost called Spencer, but decided against it because you're not sure if you're ready to see him just yet. Hotch's car pulls up to the curb and he hops out to help you in the car but you wave him off.
"I got shot I'm not immobile." You try to tease as you grimace, pulling yourself into the passenger seat. Hotch closes the door once you're in and quickly returns to the driver's seat. His hands grip the wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white. He starts the route back to your home without a word, but you can tell something is bothering him.
"What's up?" You break the silence, the curiosity of what he's thinking becoming too much. Hotch glances at you from the corner of his eye before training his eyes back on the road.
"You're off of field duty for the next few months. Technically, you should be on a leave of absence for a while but I know you won't abide by it. But, you have to promise me you won't overwork yourself. You got shot, you need to take care of yourself." His words come out slow and even, which contradicts his body language. There's something else going on, but you know him well enough to know he's not going to tell you.
"No field work, got it." You agree, knowing it's the best deal you're going to get. When another agent was shot on the job about a year ago, they made her stay out of the office for four months. You'd go crazy under those restrictions.
The two of you ride in silence until he pulls up outside of your quaint home. The lights are all off and the mail has gone unchecked. Dark clouds in the sky start emitting light sprinkles, likely to turn into a storm. With a sigh, you look to Hotch, whose eyes are already on you and you smile weakly at him, trying to mask the pain shooting up your spine.
"Thank you, Hotch." You say and open the door despite your body's protests.
"If you need anything, don't hesitate to call." He tells you with a father-like authority. You nod your head, knowing he means it.
"I will." You confirm and close the door. Hotch drives off and you check your overflowing mailbox before heading up the short stone walkway to your home. You're thankful for the stair railings as you have to pull yourself up each step to reach your front door. From what should be a simple, few-second task, it feels like you've run a marathon. The keys fumble around in your hands but you're able to unlock the door after a few attempts.
Your home is unusually dark and cold inside. The mail finds itself scattered across the dining room table and you go around turning on a lamp or two to bring some life back into the space. Clutching the back of your couch, you catch your breath and look down at your torso. With careful hands, you lift your shirt and look at the bandage. Thankfully it doesn't look like the stitches have broken, it's just a lot of pain. The doctor had given you two prescriptions to fill, but you probably won't go pick them up, you can't imagine how painful it would be to drive a car right now; moving your arms and legs, straining your abdomen. It's just not worth it in your mind. And you're surely not going to inconvenience anyone to pick it up for you, they probably couldn't anyways seeing as how one of them is a narcotic.
Instead of doing anything else, you go around and lay down on your couch, propping your head on a throw pillow and pulling the blanket draped over the back overtop of you. Thunder sounds off overhead, and you know the rain will put you to sleep if the pain doesn't do it first.
The plush material of the blanket soothes you somewhat, it definitely feels better than the hospital blankets. Thick raindrops start pelting the window situated on the wall perpendicular to the couch, giving you the perfect view through your sheer curtains. Your eyes droop as you watch the droplets race each other to the bottom but you don't want to sleep, it's pretty much all you've done the past two days.
While your eyes concentrate on the raindrops pelting the window your mind races with all the thoughts you've slept away in the hospital. Since first waking up, you've been able to recall most of what happened, the doctors told you it was a normal thing to experience, but it freaked you out as you just kept remembering what happened. You can hear Spencer's voice begging you to stay awake and you remember shoving him out of the way so he wouldn't be shot.
While the pain of being shot is like nothing you've experienced before, you know you'd do it all over again to save Spencer. And that terrifies you. It's for that reason you haven't contacted him yet, but you see the messages he's left on your phone, asking if you're okay and if he can do anything for you. If it had been him that got shot, and he didn't pull through, you know you'd crumble, you'd absolutely lose yourself. And that shakes you to your core. You knew you and Spencer were close, but you never realized just how deep your love for him runs.
Being shot made you understand that in this line of work it's not smart to form these personal ties, for reasons such as this. If the roles were reversed and he did die, you know you wouldn't be able to continue doing your job. It's been made abundantly obvious to you during your time on the BAU that these deep connections could pose a threat to your safety, and that's never been more clear to you than it is right now. It's precisely the reason you don't answer Spencer at all. You feel guilty, but you know it's better like this in the long run. You can't stomach the thought of him taking a bullet for you, so you have to distance yourself, for his safety.
-----
Five days later you decide to return to the office. You're feeling slightly better, the pain is still strikingly difficult to deal with, but you can't stand another day being cooped up in your house. Plus, you know there's at least one incident report waiting for you.
You leave early to give yourself enough time to get there, and you find out that you were right about driving, it definitely does not feel good. You reach the office later than you usually do, but you don't really care. The team isn't even expecting you for another two days, so there's no punctuality expectation. After you get out of your car and make your way across the parking lot you find that a pit of dread has taken residence in your stomach, right next to the aching pain; and you're nervous to walk through the doors that have become so familiar. But the elevator ride is too short for your comfort and you find yourself staring at those very doors before you're truly prepared.
With one hand lightly resting on your abdomen, you force yourself into the office, where everyone is busy with their daily duties. Maybe you can just slip in here without anyone noticing you. Your steps are drastically slower than normal, and you make it halfway to your desk before you hear someone calling out your name.
"What are you doing here? Thought you weren't supposed to be back until Monday." Morgan asks, tossing a file on top of his keyboard. You clear your throat and try your best to smile.
"Just couldn't stay away I guess." You say and finish the journey to your desk, feeling your legs start going weak. Within the days you've spent at home, you couldn't bring yourself to exert much energy getting food, you mainly just spent time wrapped up in a blanket on your couch. Your body is weaker than it ever has been, from both malnutrition and the gunshot, but nobody needs to know that, then they'd start to hover. You'd much rather just suffer in silence and take care of yourself. Morgan follows you over to your desk and you're hypervigilant to keep up a good appearance.
"We've been worried about you. Nobody's heard from you since Hotch picked you up." He says and you glance over to Hotch's office, seeing the door closed.
"Yeah, sorry about that. I've just been trying to rest and heal up." It's not a total lie, just not the entire truth either. You meet Morgan's eyes as if to seal the deal, and thankfully he doesn't push you further on the matter, he just puts a hand on your shoulder.
"Well it's good to have you back." He says before departing back to his own desk.
You open the cover of the file that's sitting on your desk, seeing blank pages waiting for you to fill them out. Grabbing your favorite pen, you start jotting down your notes of the incident report up until you get to the part where you were shot. The pen hovers over the page for minutes, and you can't seem to find the right words. The opening of Hotch's door distracts you and you see him and Spencer walk out. Spencer's eyes lock with yours immediately and he wastes no time abandoning his conversation with Hotch to come over to you. You knew this time would come, you were just hoping to avoid it for a while longer.
"How are you? Are you okay? You weren't supposed to be back until Monday." A flurry of questions gets thrown at you while Spencer looks you over as if he's expecting to see another bleeding wound on you.
"I'm fine, thanks." You keep your answer short, too short for his liking and you know it. Guilt sits heavily in your heart, but you remind yourself that this is for his benefit and wellbeing. You can deal with a broken heart, you can't deal with Spencer dying and that's why this is necessary. His eyebrows scrunch together, confused about why you're acting so strangely.
"I tried to text you." He says, lowering his voice, eyes tender and full of worry. If only you could reach out to him, to feel his soft skin under your fingertips and tell him about the hell you've been going through. Instead, you lick your lips and nod shortly,
"I saw. I just, I wanted some time alone." You lie straight to his face and watch as he buys it so easily. Disappointment paints itself all over his face, but he nods anyways and shoves his hands into his pockets.
"Right. Sorry, well, um, you know where I'll be." He says in a hushed voice before turning and walking to his own desk. Your eyes clamp themselves shut and your fists clench, leaving crescent-shaped indents in your palms as you take a deep breath and fight away the tears that threaten to spill.
Once you've regained control of yourself, you pick your pen back up and focus on nothing else but getting this report done. You force yourself to write robotically, stating only the concise facts of what happened and not a detail more. You're sure the other agents' reports will make up for yours, you just need to get this done and filed so you can leave. The air in the office space is suffocating.
After what feels like a short eternity, you've finally completed the report and you shut the front cover of the file and push yourself out of your chair, gritting your teeth the entire time.
"Need help?" You hear Morgan's voice behind you, and you're quick to shake your head.
"No, I'm fine, thank you." You say as you stand as straight as you can, grabbing the file off your desk with one hand, the other rests over your wound, which feel unusually warm. Fearing the worst, you make your way to Hotch's office, biting your cheek the entire way there.
When you enter his office he looks at you with uncharacteristically soft eyes. He waits for you to make the first move and you put the folder on his desk, letting out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. He opens the folder and reads over your work before tossing it on top of a pile of other folders.
"What's going on with you?" He asks and stands to shut his door. Hotch closes the blinds on the office windows as well, so that the other agents can't see into the room and you're thankful. Your bottom lip quivers as a sharp hot pain radiates from your wound and you feel your throat constrict. Grasping the back of a chair situated in front of his desk you lean your weight on it to try and alleviate the pain, but it isn't working.
"Let me see." Hotch stands from his desk and stands beside you. Once you feel you can stand on your own you lift the edge of your shirt up, exposing the bandage wrapped around you. From your vantage point you can see the warm red skin peeking out from the bandage.
"That's not good, that looks like it's becoming infected." Hotch's voice is thick with worry and he delicately peels back the bandage to examine the wound and you bite down on your hand to keep from crying out. The air coming into contact with it feels like he just pushed a fire poker right through the stitches.
"We're leaving right now, that's definitely infected." Hotch secures the bandage back and you shake your head.
"I'll be fine, it's just part of the healing process." You try to downplay the situation. In reality, you know that it's not good for your wound to be that red or warm, but if the two of you leave right now the others are going to know something's up. And that will inevitably lead to them hovering over you.
"No, it's not. You're going to come with me or I'll call the squad." Hotch threatens and you see no trace of a lie in his eyes or in his tone. Relenting, you agree to go with him. He leads you out of the office and you keep your head down, compelling yourself to not look at Spencer, who's undoubtedly tracking your every move.
Once you reach the parking lot Hotch begins questioning you. He helps you into his car and you let him, not having the energy to fight him.
"Have you not been taking the medicine prescribed to you? I know they gave you an antibiotic." He scolds, knowing the answer. If you had been taking them, you wouldn't be showing up to the office with an angry gunshot wound.
"Hurt too much to drive and get them." You keep your answer short and he huffs in annoyance, but starts driving somewhere to get you the medical attention you need. Deep down you're thankful Hotch cares this much, he's the closest thing to real family you have.
Last Thanksgiving the team found out that you have no family to spend the holidays with. You had never meant to tell them, but holiday plans came up in conversation and yours were painfully dull and lonely compared to theirs. But Hotch invited you to his family's Thanksgiving dinner. At first, you had declined, not wanting to intrude on his family time away from work, but he wasn't taking no for an answer. Now you're glad that he persisted and you went. His wife, Haley, took you under her wing and everything just fell into place; you're practically their surrogate daughter at this point.
After Hotch makes sure that you get looked at by a doctor, and that you actually have your intended prescriptions, he drops you off at your home and makes you promise that you'll send him a video of you taking your medicine on schedule. Knowing that if you don't, he will most definitely drive over here and count the pills, you agree. And as a punishment for not taking the medicine in the first place, he makes you agree to stay out of the office for another week.
-----
The week passes too quickly for your liking. Each day Spencer had texted you, asking if you're okay, that he's worried about you, and that he misses you. It broke your heart to not reply to him, every fiber of your being yearned to text him back, to let him know that you're okay. The temptation to abandon your decision of distancing yourself from him grew stronger each day. It became so tempting that you forced yourself to let your phone battery die and then you buried it underneath the clothes in your dresser so that it would stay out of sight.
But now, as you stare up at the office building from the parking lot, you know that you won't be able to avoid him today and you know that you're going to have to not give into temptation. Every time you want to slip, you're going to have to remind yourself that this is for his safety. You remember that you can deal with the heartbreak, the possibility of him hating you, but you'll never be able to go on if he dies. So you have to do everything in your power to make sure he will never have a reason to make a decision to take a bullet for you, like you did him.
Eventually, you walk into the office, admittedly in a lot less pain than last time. Who knew that taking your prescribed antibiotics would make your life easier? As soon as your foot crosses the threshold of the door, you feel like everyone's eyes are upon you. Instead of looking around to confirm your suspicions, you make a straight route right to your desk. But, of course that doesn't stop people from coming over.
"Back again. You look better this time." Morgan smiles and slides to sit on the edge of your desk. You smile back at him, feeling refreshed and healthier than last time.
"Feel better too. Any new cases?" You ask, hoping to establish some normalcy back into your routine. Typically, you and Spencer carpool to work together and his missing presence from your morning routine didn't go unmissed. Morgan licks his lips and nods,
"Yeah we just got back from one out in Colorado. I think there's another briefing at ten." He tells you, taking a sip of his coffee. You know you won't be let into the field yet, but you at least want to sit in on the briefing. More than likely you'll be paired with Garcia, and you're fine with that.
Morgan slides off your desk and as he moves you see Spencer staring straight at you. His eyes look bloodshot, there are dark circles under his eyes. He looks like he hasn't had a decent night of sleep for a month and his hair is a mess. His lips fall open as you two make eye contact, but you're quick to look away before you go over to comfort him. The inside of your cheeks burn from how hard you're biting them.
Once ten rolls around the team files into the conference room, and you're careful to stand in the back instead of taking your usual seat. Prentiss gives you an odd look but she doesn't say anything. It's glaringly obvious to everyone that something is off, but you assure them you should stand to help your blood circulation. As Hotch starts going over the next case you feel a familiar pair of eyes lingering on your face, but you stare right at Hotch.
Soon enough, the rest of the team is off to work a local case, and you stay in the office to help Garcia. She pulls up a chair for you to sit on, and the two of you get to work without saying a word. It's weird for there to be a silence so thick between the two of you, you two always work so well together and you love Penelope. As she waits for something to load, she taps a pen on her desk and takes a deep breath.
"What's wrong?" You ask, not being able to take it any longer. The tapping pen stills and she looks over to you with an uncertain look on her face.
"What's wrong with me? Nothing, I'm perfect as a peach." She tries to lie, but you can read her too well. Your eyebrows raise, and you push her further.
"Come on, Pen. I know you better than that. Tell me." You implore and she bites her lower lip, conflicted with herself as if she should say anything or not. But eventually your staring gets to her and she breaks.
"Fine. Fine, but you didn't hear this from me. Spencer thinks that you blame him for getting shot and that's why you've been dodging him." You've never heard such ridiculous words come out of Penelope's mouth, and you've heard her say a lot over the years. Taken aback, your mouth falls open and you blink, trying to come up with something to say.
"No. Of course it's not his fault. I pushed him out of the way, he didn't pull me into the bullet's path." You say, wanting to set the record straight. Your heart aches at the thought of Spencer beating himself up, thinking that you blame him for your own actions. You know you won't tell him this directly, but you're certain Garcia will relay the message. And that will have to be good enough.
"What's going on with you two then?" Her voice is uncharacteristically soft. You know you can't tell her what you're really doing because you know she'll fight you on it and try to dissuade you. So you choose to dodge the question altogether.
"There. The victim's information loaded." You point at her screen and she scowls at you, but turns in her chair and resumes her job anyways. While she does her research you busy yourself with putting pins on a map, trying to figure out where the unsub is going to strike next.
Later, the team returns to the office before going home for the day. You're at your desk, shutting down your computer and making sure your file drawer is locked, and when you grab the jacket off the back of your chair, you see Spencer talking to Morgan at his desk. He catches you out of the corner of his eye, and you brush past the two of them before either one of them can say something to you. Your heart shatters a little with each step, but you remind yourself why you're doing this. If you didn't, you're convinced you would have turned back and never let Spencer go.
-----
Three days later, the case is solved. The unsub basically handed the team a map right to himself and chose not to lawyer up when Hotch questioned him. It's almost like he wanted to be caught. You don't dwell on the thought too much, you're just glad another murderer is off the street. While everyone else cheers about the victory as they fill out their reports, you keep to yourself at your desk. Unlike the last report you filled out, you make sure this one is extensively detailed.
"What does everyone say? Celebration drinks tonight?" You hear Morgan's voice, eager and happy. The man loves to celebrate sometimes. The rest of the team agrees, and you finish your sentence, hoping they keep you out of it. If you stay quiet enough, you're sure they'll forget you're even here.
"Oh did someone say drinks?" Penelope walks into the bullpen to give Hotch something. Morgan fills her in on the details and of course she agrees.
"I'm assuming you're coming too, right?" You hear her voice but choose not to look up, hoping that she's talking to someone else. Unfortunately, she was not talking to someone else, and taps on your shoulder to make you look up. You see Spencer standing in the background with everyone else, but you keep your eyes trained on Penelope like he doesn't even exist.
"Oh, I don't know. I was thinking of calling it an early night." You admit, knowing full well that you had planned to sit on your couch all weekend binging some trashy reality show to distract yourself from your reality. Penelope frowns,
"Come on, you've never turned us down before. It'll be good for you." She says, and you can tell by the tone of her voice that she's not going to take no for an answer.
"Fine, I'll be there." You relent, with a tight smile on your face. She cheers and goes back to talking with Morgan, and you swivel around in your chair to finish the report. While you scribble words, you're already forming your escape plan for the night.
You'll stay for about an hour, after everyone has already had a few and then you'll excuse yourself. If you have to, you'll use your gunshot wound as an excuse; and yeah it's a cheap cop out, but if that's what it takes you'll do it. And then once you're out the doors you're free. It's a simple, yet effective, plan.
Hours later the team huddles around a table in a crowded bar. Usually you're all over celebratory drinks, you use it as an excuse to remind your coworkers of just how brilliant they are. But tonight, while the rest of them are chatting away happily, you sit on the edge, nursing your drink and looking out of the bar's front window. Spencer is seated across the table from you and you keep accidentally meeting his eyes, which makes the alcohol in your system warm your skin even more.
Spencer sure does make it hard for you to ignore him. After all, his puppy-dog eyes practically plead with you, silently begging for you to say something to him. You can see how hard he's being on himself, still probably convinced that you blame him for your wound. Even if Garcia told him otherwise, you know he will have a hard time buying it considering your actions completely contradict what you had said. While the others might not notice how miserable he is, you can tell. He hasn't gone on a random knowledge tangent since you've been back and he's been reusing the same coffee cup without washing it for the past few days.
You hate how hard Spencer makes it to actually dislike him, you hate how he's such a kindhearted person because it makes all of this ten times more difficult. If he had at least one dislikable trait then this would be easier, then you might have a chance of convincing yourself that you can't stand him, that you never liked him to begin with. Though you're not sure you could ever convince yourself of that, truly. As you take your last drink, you come to one reasonable conclusion: You hate that you love him.
Suddenly feeling like the room is closing in on you, you stand from your seat and make your way to the bartender to close your tab out for the night. Maybe you can just sneak out of here and nobody will notice. The bartender hands your card back to you, and you start heading towards the door. But of course a team of FBI agents noticed that you had left, and are now heading towards the door. Morgan is the first one to confront you.
"Going home already? It's not even nine yet!" He teases and you give him your best smile.
"Just starting to hurt a little." You ghost your fingers over your healing wound for extra measure, knowing they won't chastise you about that. It seems you've taken the low road after all.
"Want someone to take you home?" Penelope asks, and you're quick to decline, knowing exactly what kind of plan she has in store.
"No, thanks. That's alright, I don't live far. Have a good night everyone." You smile at Morgan, Penelope, and Prentiss before you leave. As you walk to your car you notice that everytime you turn away and leave Spencer, your heart fragments more and more. But you remember what's at stake, and you pick yourself up, the best you can, and keep moving forward. You know that the pain and turmoil you're feeling now will amount to nothing if something ever happens to Spencer.
-----
Months later your gunshot wound is practically completely healed. There's a scar that's going to be left behind, but you don't mind it. You're one week out from being cleared to go back into the field, and you're undergoing your evaluation now. You thought that you'd be happy and eager to get back out there, but instead you find yourself hesitant and nervous about it. Working with Garcia had made you feel safe and secure. So now, as you sit in Hotch's office, you try to find the words you're looking for. He's staring at you expectantly.
"I just. Hotch I don't know if I can go back out there." Your voice is shaky, and you're afraid this admission will get you dismissed from the team. He leans forward, elbows resting on his desk.
"You're saying you don't want to return to the field?" He tries to clarify. You take in a deep breath,
"I want to return to the field, I just don't know if I want to do it right now. I mean, I still get nightmares about being shot and it feels so real. What I'm trying to say is that I don't know how well I'd react in stressful situations right now." You tell him, hoping that this makes more sense. In a way, you're figuring out what exactly it is you want. His eyes narrow, trying to get a read on you. Hotch writes some words on the paper in front of him and sighs.
"I can give you another month. And I want you to start seeing a therapist." He says and you scoff immediately. Hotch holds his hand up to stop your protests before they even start.
"Listen. I don't know what's going on inside your mind since this all happened. But you haven't been yourself. And you haven't spoken to Spencer once. You two used to be the best of friends. It's none of my business to know, but you need to tell someone about it. Being shot like that is not something that someone gets over easily and without ramifications." He explains, and deep down you know he's right. You just don't want to confide to anyone about your issues.
"Sure." You agree, knowing that he's going to force you to see a therapist one way or another. If you tell him no now, you're sure someone will show up in the office next week to conduct some sort of "random psych evaluation". Hotch dismisses you from his office, and you make your way to the break room for some much needed caffeine.
The coffee in the pot is hot, like it's been freshly brewed. You pick a mug at random and fill it, then you sprinkle in a modest amount of sugar before tasting it. It's warm and comforting, like a hug from the inside. You close your eyes to help yourself destress from what happened in Hotch's office, but when you open them you see Spencer standing in the doorway. His hair is still wildly curly, there are still circles under his eyes from sleep deprivation. Even his clothes are wrinkled now, it looks like he doesn't take the time to iron them out anymore.
You two stare at each other with so much left unsaid, and you make a move to leave the room before you fold under the pressure. Your shoulder brushes his on the way out, and you hear him speak.
"Please. I'm sorry." You hear him plead with you and your steps falter, wanting so badly to just stop and turn around. To hold him close to you and apologize, to tell him you miss him so bad it makes your chest hurt and how life is dull without him. But instead, you take a scalding sip of coffee and keep moving forward like you never heard him. Each day that passes you find yourself hating how deeply you love him more and more, it's almost a constant burn in your veins.
You spend the rest of the day tucked away in Penelope's office, nose buried in a screen, doing the most menial research as if the fate of the world depends on it. Penelope doesn't say anything. She just sighs and helps you with the research.
-----
A few more weeks pass, and fall is now in full swing. There's a crisp chill to the air, the leaves are all turning colors and falling to the ground. And with fall comes your birthday. You have no real plans to celebrate, Hotch had given you your gift in the parking lot before work this morning, knowing that you don't like a lot attention being drawn to you, but it is nice to get a simple "happy birthday" from your friends.
The team packs up for the day, and your heart sinks with disappointment. It seems that nobody but Hotch had remembered your birthday. You convince yourself that this is a stupid reason to get sad, that they all have busy lives to keep up with. Plus, it's not like it's a milestone birthday anyways. Grabbing your jacket, you leave the office for the day with a heavy sadness taking residence in your chest.
When you arrive home, you turn some lamps on and toss your jacket over the back of the couch. You put Hotch's gift on the table, and go to the kitchen to open a bottle of wine. You don't bother pouring it into a glass, straight from the bottle will suffice just fine. Taking the bottle with you, you go to your room and change out of your work clothes. As you rummage through the drawers, you find your phone still sitting in the bottom of one of them.
You had never found the courage to charge it back up, afraid to see what words had been left for you. But tonight, you figure it's about time you confront your own feelings. You plug the phone in and set it on your nightstand, taking another swig of the wine and waiting for it to charge.
After what feels like hours, the phone finally turns back on. And within minutes, the notifications start pouring in. Text after text after text rolls in and the missed calls start to pile up. With another drink, you take your phone in your hand and read over the messages. There are exactly fifty seven messages from Spencer and thirty missed calls.
Your eyes scan the texts he sent you, his words sinking into the fibers of your very being, and you're saddled with an intense sorrow. Tears fall from your cheeks onto the phone's screen and you stop reading, not being able to take it anymore. All of his texts were him apologizing to you, begging you to please talk to him. You listen to the voicemails he left, hearing his voice crack and listening to him sniffle as he pleads for you to please just say something, anything. You can almost visualize him in your mind, wiping his tears as he tells you how sorry he is and how he misses you more than anything. He's begging and apologizing as if he's the one who has done anything wrong here. You hate yourself more than anything for letting him suffer like this.
You leave your phone on your nightstand and grab the wine, returning to your kitchen table, where Hotch's gift sits perfectly wrapped. Taking it in your hands, you unwrap it and look inside the box, heart stilling as you see what's inside. With trembling fingers, you grab the frame and hold it in front of your face. Hotch had given you a framed photo of the team, a picture in which Spencer is holding you tightly against his side, and you're looking up at him with stars in your eyes. The frame slips through your fingers and clatters onto the table.
You support yourself on the back of a chair, and you finally let yourself feel everything you had suppressed over the last few months. Sobs shake your body and the tears fall onto the photo. Your hands clutch the back of the chair until your knuckles turn white, afraid that if you let go you'll collapse to the ground.
A knock at the door catches you off guard and you try to level out your breathing, using the back of your hand to wipe the tears from your cheeks. You aren't expecting anyone, and you almost consider just leaving it be, but your curiosity gets the best of you. Knowing that you probably look deranged and pathetic, you open the door anyways.
Spencer stands in the doorway, a small box in his hands along with a bouquet of your favorite fresh-cut flowers.
Your mouth falls open, and you think your heart might actually jump out of your chest. He looks you over, an obvious concern coming over his face. You should shut the door on him, tell him to go away, but your resolve has crumbled, like dust in the wind.
"Can I come in?" He whispers, and you nod, letting him inside your home, where he's been so many times but now it feels like the first time all over again. Your house is in a state of disarray, and if you hadn't just been sobbing over a photo of him, you might care more. You wipe more tears from your eyes and you clear your throat, not exactly sure what to say or do. But thankfully, he speaks up again.
"Happy birthday." His voice is soft, and he gives you a small smile, but the sadness is evident in his eyes.
"You didn't have to get me anything." You say, looking at the beautiful flowers and carefully wrapped box, topped with a ribbon of your favorite color. He takes a step towards you, and hands you the flowers first. As you take them, your fingers brush his and it feels like the air has been kicked out of your lungs.
"I know, but I wanted to." He says, meeting your eyes. You catch the scent of the flowers, appreciating their freshness and the life they bring to your otherwise sad home. Making your way into your kitchen, you find a vase to put the flowers in and then you set them on the table. Spencer's eye catches the photo, and you know he can see the wetness that still adorns the frame. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to put the pieces together.
"Thank you, Spencer." You say after you position the flowers just right. Willingly, you catch his eye and you know you can never go back to ignoring him after this. He glances from you, to the photo, then back to you before he hands you the box. Lifting the top off, you see a beautiful gold chain inside that has a beautiful gemstone pendant hanging from it.
"I picked the stone because it reminded me of your eyes." He sheepishly admits, and you look up at him through your lashes with the purest and deepest love flowing through you. But through that love, the guilt eats you alive.
"Spencer, this is too much. I've been horrible to you lately, I don't deserve this. And I definitely don't deserve your kindness." You say, looking into his gorgeous, kind eyes. The tension is noticeable between you, and you wish it would melt away and that you two could go back to how things used to be.
"I've missed you so much." Is all he says, voice cracking and you see tears gather in his eyes. Unable to help yourself, you set the necklace on the table and close the gap between the two of you, resting your hand on his cheek. Your bottom lip trembles,
"I'm so sorry Spencer. I'm so sorry." You say, tears once again flowing down your face. He sniffles as a tear runs down his cheek onto your thumb.
"Why?" Is all he asks but you know exactly what he means. You decide to come clean to him, there's no use of lying now.
"When I got shot, I realized that if you had been the one who got hit, and you didn't make it, that I wouldn't be able to live. The thought of living in a world without you is too much. So I had to make sure that I didn't give you a reason to make the same choice I did. I could live with you hating me, but I couldn't live in a world without you. I wanted you to hate me so that you wouldn't risk your life for me." Your thumb gently brushes his cheekbone, trembling with your words. He closes his eyes as tears keep falling down his cheeks. One of his hands comes up and grabs yours that's on his face, and he grips it tight.
"When I realized you had taken the bullet for me, I knew that nothing would be the same between us. I thought I was going to lose you. Your blood was on my hands, and it's the only thing I have nightmares about anymore. And this made me realize that I can never stop loving you, no matter what happens." He admits, causing you to cry harder. The remorse you feel for putting him through so much torment feels like it's eating you from the inside. You should have been there for him.
"I'm so sorry." Is all you can say, it's all you can express to him right now. He needs to know that you didn't mean any of it. Spencer pulls you in for a hug and holds you tight against him. One of his hands cradles the back of your head, the other is secure around your waist. Your tears stain his sweater, and the two of you let out everything.
When you finally pull back from the hug you grab his face with gentle hands, making him look at you.
"Spencer, I love you so much. I need you to know that I did what I did because I love you too much to lose you." You admit to him and he smiles. A genuine smile that you haven't seen in months. Through the tears and emotions, you two smile widely at one another.
Spencer closes the gap between the two of you, and tilts your chin up. Your lips connect with his ever so softly, and you pull him closer to you, your hands trailing down his torso, collecting fistfuls of his sweater. One of his hands rests on your cheek, brushing your cheekbone and the other keeps you close to him.
Everything that has gone unsaid is spoken loud and clear as you kiss one another. When your lungs start burning, begging for air, you break away and lean your forehead on his chest. He brushes your hair with his fingers and you feel him press a tender kiss to the top of your head. You stay entangled with each other in a comfortable silence before you look up at him,
"We'll be alright." You tell him, knowing that the two of you will be able to mend each other in time. And things may never be like they were, and that's okay.
"We'll be alright." He confirms, kissing your forehead.
Eventually, you two move to the couch and you ask him to clasp the necklace around your neck. In the soft, warm glow of the lamps you look into his eyes and can see all of the love he holds for you. You take one of his hands in yours and he positions himself so that you can lay back against him. He's warm, and being held by him feels like home.
Laying in his arms, you decide you don't want to return to the field. After all, if you're not in the field he won't ever be faced with the decision to take a bullet for you or not. As long as he's in your life, and you're in his, things will be okay. Before you drift off to sleep, you lean up and press a kiss to his temple.
You have everything you need right here in your arms.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#dr spencer reid#spencer reid angst#spencer reid comfort#hurt/comfort#hotch#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#derek morgan#penelope garcia#spencer reid fluff#harry styles#Spotify
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only angel - harry styles
pairing - bob floyd x pilot!reader
warning - 18+ only, smut, oral (fem receiving), talks of p in v, mutual pining, bob comes in his pants, bob fucks.
this is bob’s song for pilot!reader. it’s all he hears watching you flaunt around in your flight suit, tied at the waist to sport the tight white tank underneath. skin tanned and spotted from days spent flying too close to the sun. watching you maneuver your F/A-18 through windy skies as if you were born for the one thing and that thing alone.
i’m just happy getting you stuck in between my teeth, and there’s nothing i can do about it
he sees you through the window before you actually make way into the confined hard deck. off-white sundress barely brushing your lower thighs. he has to flex the muscles in his neck to keep his head from rolling back. grips his bottle too hard in order to refrain from piercing skin with his own nails. chastised himself for being like every other man in the room, you didn’t want his attention nor anyones.
but, you did. so desperately.
he misses the way you automatically look for him when you step into the bar. misses the way your cheeks blush when his eyes follow down your figure unintentionally. he’s downright blind to how your eyes only shimmer when you’re speaking with him.
bob is an honorable man. he open’s doors, tips well, lets people through in traffic. he’s a good man. there’s nothing good about fighting off the urge to sit you on the pool table and eat you out in front of every patron of the hard deck.
when the pool pit fills up you find yourself backed into a corner against him. his chest to the backs of your shoulders. it’s innocent, the way you crane your neck to the right to smile at him to make sure he saw hangman’s failure of a shot. your smile faltering when you see that his eyes were already on you, his face devoid of any readable emotion. you take a step forward with a small ‘sorry’, figuring that you had largely invaded his personal space due to your lack of comfortability in standing next to anyone else in the crowded area.
“oh.”
his hand is the one pulling you back into him from your front, not pushing you away. you hear a barely audible groan pull from the back of his throat. you’re closer now. much closer.
he looks around to make sure your privacy is sealed before he leans down and brushes his lips to your ear.
“i know this isn’t like me, but if i have to spend ‘nother second here with you not being mine, i might as well have myself honorably discharged from the navy.” his voice had deepened with the low tone of his voice. he takes a shaky breath into your ear. he’s missed a lot, but he doesn’t miss how you slightly shiver more into him. “you ruin me.”
“well, i won’t have you losing your career over me. that wouldn’t be very kind.” ever so considerate you were. you feel a hand squeeze tightly at your waist, unaware that it had been there the whole time.
it takes five minutes for him to break and quite obviously pull you out the front doors of the hard deck.
i must admit i thought id like to make you mine
the ride turns torturous when you accept that you have to wait exactly thirteen minutes to get your hands on him. he’s clenched jawed and laser focused on the stop lights ahead, but his twitching grip on your thigh tells you all you need to know.
“how long?” it breaks you from your trance, and despite his lack for better word you know exactly what he’s asking.
“ever since we met at the hard deck.” your confession has no power behind it. it’s a breathless response. he lets his foot fall heavier onto the petal. he fights the urge to pull into an abandoned lot just so he can kiss you more wordless than both of you already are.
when the thirteen minute mark passes he’s placing his truck in park outside of his one bedroom townhouse. you swallow your spit when he’s outside of the truck, power walking to the passenger door. he pulls it open, reaches over to unbuckle your seatbelt, and offers you his hand to step down. there’s no use for words when you both know.
there is a use for them when you both are inside and he has your back pressed against his front door. hand releasing yours to find home on the side your neck, the large warmth of his stretching to the nape of it.
“do you know how in love with you i am?” he’s scared to ask it. scared of a laugh that will never come from your lips. his forehead falls to yours. “my ma told me once that i’d never be able to love a woman until i truly knew one inside and out. but, i knew you the moment i laid my eyes on you.”
“bobby..” a sigh falls from his lips at the call of his name. a call of his name from you. “if the feeling wasn’t mutual, i don’t think i would’ve worn this dress tonight.”
“god, honey. that fuckin’ dress.” his laugh comes more strangled then he planned it to be. “your thighs. your laugh. the way you crinkle your damn nose.”
“bobby.” his eyes meet yours and through the shaded light of the lamp you can see the blue of his eyes fade into black. “kiss me. please”
he does. one to your forehead. your chin. left cheek, right. he marks a cross on your face with his lips before softly pressing them to your own. his grip on the back of your neck tightening. for all things holy, he was about to worship.
the soft press of his lips was enough for your knees to weaken. the growing fire behind them was enough to make you fully moan into his mouth, egging him on as if he needed it. his tongue simmered into yours because it was meant to be there.
she’s an angel, my only angel
he had you pressed against the door for a good thirty minutes before you made just the right noise when his thigh met between your legs. he pulled back, having to gasp for the air in his lungs.
“how much do you want?” he slurred through his accent, head drunk with you. if he left his hands on you any longer they might stick there, he wouldn’t mind.
“all of it. how much do you want?” you hold him with two hands on the sides of his head, fingers threading with the strands of his now mused hair.
“everything.”
he guided you by the small of your back through his hallway, having to take an intermission every now and again to press you back up against the wall.
his bedroom was simple, but it was him. a plaid brown comforter on the bed. two books sat on his side table. an antique dresser topped with more books and a death star lego set. you didn’t have the chance to notice anything else before he was pressed against your back, hands taking their rightful place on your waist.
“when you walked into the hard deck today there was only one thought in my head.” he pressed kisses to your neck between words, moving your hair to make room for his love. “and it’s still on my mind.”
“hmm?” his answer is silent as he moves you to the edge of his own bed. your mouth is agape when he sinks to his knees. the whimper you let out has him in a battle with his tightening pants.
he takes his precious time, eyes never leaving yours. he reaches a hand to the smooth expanse of your calf, trailing down so he can remove your shoes. your dress is still on, and he plans to keep it that way for now. he does allow himself to push the hem of it further up your thighs, and he thinks maybe that wasn’t such a good idea because he is surely going to spill a load into his pants.
he pulls himself closer to you where his hands are still wrapped around your calves. nudging his head between your shaking knees until he’s right where he wants to be. he stays there for a moment, breathing hard enough so that you can feel it on your clothed heat. nothing could have prepared you for the feeling of his mouth on you. he kisses you there, before spreading his tongue wide against the fabric.
“bobby.” you whine futilely, he already has his teeth tight on the white material, pulling it down your legs. his hands smooth over your legs before they pull the underwear all the way down and off your body.
“honey..” his eyebrows are furrowed and serious as he looks you in the eyes. “if it gets to much stop me, i just want to make you feel good. are you gonna let me make you feel good?”
you nod probably too much, he lets out an airy laugh.
“words, honey. wanna hear you.” his hand has traveled farther up your leg, pushing your dress up further.
“please, please make me feel good.” it’s all he needs, laying a wet kiss on your thigh before meeting you back at where your want is melting off of you and onto his clean bed.
he’s steady and first. immediately drawling attention to your clit, tonguing it slowly in tight circles. when you move your own hands to lift your dress from his head he pulls them to his hair. it’s all the leverage you need for when he becomes ravenous.
his mouth expands over your whole center, licking one long line before his tongue finds your entrance. it’s quick work when you hear and feel his moan into you, his hips bucking at the taste of you on his lips and the sound of you on his ears.
“oh— s’feels so good please—” your words fall on understanding ears, before you can process the ecstasy of it all two of his fingers are slipping onto your tongue and pulling right back out. they find their way back to your clit, rubbing hot and fast at the nerve.
within three minutes, bob floyd has you coming on his mouth. for the first time.
his ministrations don’t stop there. he’s insatiable now that he’s got you. now that you’re his, and this is his. he’s always aimed to please. whether that be in school, in the air, or in between the most perfect thighs he had ever seen.
he feels the grip on his hair tighten and encourages it with a loud groan that shakes you to your core. he pushes himself impossibly further into you, the attention his hands were once paying you long forgotten, as they now squeeze roughly into the meat of your hips. he has you with just his mouth.
his heels are lifting off the ground and he’s pushing you further into his bed with the foundation of the second orgasm he gives you. he detaches for a moment.
“so pretty like this, angel. taste so good.” he squeezes your hip tighter. “all mine.”
when you come again, he’s matching your moans and whimpers. hips now furiously bucking into nothing except the tight constraint of his slacks. he doesn’t even give himself a moment to feel embarrassed, because what does he have to be embarrassed of? the fact that he made you come undone in approximately seven minutes with only his mouth not once, but twice? he feels his seed warm his front when you whine his name once more.
he’s pulling you through it, but slower this time. a post sign that he’s taken what he wanted, for now. he pulls off of you with a sickeningly sweet kiss to your clit. taking his own breaths with his head resting on your thigh.
“can i..” he hears you softly ask, he chuckles at himself and not at you.
“problem took care of itself, sweet girl.” he smiles at you from where his head still lays on your thigh. “i’ll take care of both of us later.”
that has your cheeks and stomach burning again.
he lifts himself from the floor with his hands on either side of you, from between your legs he leans down and kisses you softly.
“let’s get you cleaned up, and maybe after a shower i’ll be able to look at you without ruining my pants.”
#bob floyd#bob floyd smut#robert floyd#robert floyd smut#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x pilot!reader#top gun maverick fanfic#top gun smut#lewis pullman#rhett abbott#my work
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The Pleasures of The Unknown | Kate Middleton x The Unknown (Glasgow Wonka Experience 2024)
masterlist | ao3 | follow @youwouldntdownloadapizza and turn on notifications for updates
When Kate Middleton mistakenly ends up at a magical chocolate factory in Glasgow, she finds herself drawn to a mysterious cloaked figure with a penchant for dark chocolate.
pairing: Kate Middleton x The Unknown (Glasgow Wonka 2024)
rating: 18+, minors DNI
word count: 1.2k
tags: crack, crack treated seriously, crack fic, smut, mild smut, finger sucking, chocolate, sex and chocolate, light BDSM, choking, thigh riding, rpf, bald harry styles, balddry, infidelity, glasgow, willy wonka experience - freeform, glasgow willy wonka - freeform, Balmoral, british royal family, unhinged innuendo
chapter warnings: smut, infidelity
Kate Middleton stared at her bangs in the Buckingham Palace bathroom mirror.
"I can't go out like this," she complained to William. "The Sun will rip me a new one!"
"Kate, my dear," he kissed her on the cheek, turning to lean against the counter. She continued tugging at her botched fringe until he took her hand. "It's just hair. It'll grow back."
"That's rich, coming from you."
William looked down at his royal bunny slippers with a frown. Even they had more hair than he did. Perhaps he should have them fashioned into a wig. He'd have to ask his frenemy, Harry Styles, for wigmaker recommendations.
"I don't know what to do." Kate looked up at her husband with tears in her eyes. He wiped them away with his royal hanky.
"I do," he smiled. Sliding his hand into his back pocket, he produced the royal AmEx.
"Take a holiday, Kate. Go to Balmoral or Hollyrood for a few weeks. Grow them out. Maybe even get that BBL you've been talking about getting. Scotland is a great place to recover from surgery. What with all the free healthcare and all, innit?" he said Britishly.
"You're so right, William. I'll leave first thing tomorrow."
---
Kate double-checked the address her husband had given her as she stepped out of her royal Uber Black.
"This can't be the right place. Balmoral was never this colorful!"
The cabbie rolled down his window. "Don't worry, ma'am, this is Willy's place! Be quick and get inside, it's looking like rain."
With a soft 'innit', the driver pulled away, and Kate was left on Willy's doorstep.
She assumed 'Willy' was short for her husband 'William', but as she entered the foyer, she began to have her doubts. The place appeared to be some sort of magical chocolate factory.
Although sparsely decorated, the place maintained some air of whimsy. Well, less of an air, more of a spritz, but clamato, clamato.
"Soo la voo," Kate shrugged, walking beneath the sparkly, styrofoam rainbow and towards whatever fate awaited her here.
"Ahh, more guests! Welcome!" A depressed-looking woman in a green wig approached her.
"Here, compliments of Willy," she said, sliding a plastic cup containing a splash of what appeared to be sparkling lemonade into Kate's left hand. Into her right went a single jelly bean.
"What is this?" Kate asked.
"Our welcome gift to you! And only $40, such a deal."
Kate supposed $40 was a fair price for such splendor. After all, if bananas were $10, this was surely worth four times that. She popped the jelly bean and washed it down with the lemonade.
"Carry on down the hallway. Your future awaits."
Kate left her luggage and her empty cup with the so-called Oompa Loompa and proceeded down the bare linoleum hallway. That uncanny-valley candy landscape tapestry really ties the place together, she mused.
A voice greeted her at the end of the hall.
"What. Is. That?" A blonde man in a red top hat and coattails pointed towards an unassuming mirror.
Why, that's me! Kate Middleton! Kate Middleton thought to herself.
Kate nearly leaped out of her skin when the creature emerged from behind the looking glass.
"It's...THE UNKNOWN!!"
That's when Kate fainted.
When she awoke, her head was spinning. "Where am I?" She asked to the blackness that surrounded her.
A deep voice answered her. "You're in the walls. This is my home. My own dark chocolate factory."
"Your what?" Kate asked.
As her eyes adjusted, she realized she was in a small bedroom combined with a confectionary workspace, almost a studio apartment of sorts.
"My dark chocolate factory. You see, Willy Wonka seeks only to pump this world full of river-churned, high-fructose, milky delicious bullshit. What I aim to create is something far more sophisticated. Far more complex. And far, far darker."
"Oh? Might I try some?"
"Why of course," the silver-masked, black-hooded creature pulled back its sleeve to reveal long, nimble fingers.
He crossed to his chocolate worktable and dipped his index and middle fingers into a whirring chocolate fountain. The creature stalked towards her, extending the sample.
Kate leaned towards him, but froze. "Before I suck on your fingers, I should probably know your name."
The creature angled his head, as if considering her. "I have no name. I am only...The Unknown."
Kate's heart raced in her chest. That chocolate, those fingers, it all looked simply divine. And if William could be unfaithful, why couldn't she do the same? She deserved it, just this once. As a treat.
She opened her mouth, and The Unknown slid his fingers past her lips. She sucked deeply, the flavor sliding across her tongue and down her throat, the complex flavor and intensity of the delivery method sending shivers down her spine.
"Are you cold?" He asked.
"A bit," Kate admitted.
"Well then," she could hear the smirk in his voice even if she couldn't see it on his face. "Perhaps I'll have to warm you up myself."
Kate bit her lip. "Would you...put your willy? In my chocolate factory?"
His fingers closed around her throat. She drew a sharp breath.
She could feel his breath as he whispered in her ear, "Forget willies. Forget chocolate factories. Allow yourself to submit, to embrace the pleasures of The Unknown."
Kate let out a shuddering breath as she gazed up at that shiny mask. She didn't know what lurked behind it. She didn't care.
She kissed him then, the plastic of his mask hard against her soft lips. And then she was sprawled on the bed, his knee between her legs, and she was grinding against him.
"Oh, The Unknown!" She moaned.
"Please, there's no need for formality. Call me The."
So Kate did. She sounded like the gilded first word of a sponge's term paper as she wailed his name over and over again, into the dark stillness of this secret room behind the walls.
"I'm close," Kate moaned.
"Good girl."
He leaned down to kiss at her neck. The rough edges of the cheap mask scratched at her sensitive skin, but she didn't care. She was lost in the pleasures of The Unknown.
It was the hair that brought her to the edge, something her husband could never give her. The chemical scent of his cheap, black wig filled her nostrils as she rode his thigh, dangling there on the precipice.
"Ohh!" Kate screamed as she came, her thighs shaking with pleasure as she clenched around nothing.
A low, satisfied chuckle rumbled at her throat, and she swooned. After all these years of marriage, William had never rocked her world like this masked stranger just had. As they lay there together, she slipped into the chocolatey darkness of slumber, utterly content.
---
When Kate returned home, butt bigger and bangs longer, William had wanted to hear about her experience in Scotland.
"What was your favorite part?" He asked.
"I learned a lot about myself on this trip," she told him. "But the most valuable lesson was in learning to embrace the pleasures of the unknown."
"See, a little uncertainty is good sometimes!" He teased, tugging on her much-improved bangs before giving her a soft kiss.
"Mm," he smacked his lips. "Tastes like chocolate."
#ao3#fanfic#fanfiction#crack fic#glasgow#glasgow willy wonka experience#willy wonka#the unknown#glasgow willy wonka#ai wonka#balddry#kate middleton#kate middleton conspiracy#kate middleton missing#kate middleton bangs#kate middleton bbl#kate middleton x the unknown
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Masterlist : Cillian Murphy Edition
Updated: 05/26/24
💋= smut
🦋=fluff
⚠️=dark theme
🌙=angst
✨=suggestive
Patricia Braden/Saint Kitten
•Breeding you 🦋💋
•More Than Friends🦋💋🌙
Emma Skillpa
• Her First Real Kiss 🦋✨
Lenny Miller
• DDLG 💋
Davin
• Soft Dom 💋
William Killick
Begging 💋
Say it again 💋
Jackson Ripner
Face fucking 💋
Don’t you trust your neighbor ?⚠️💋
Jim (The Delinquent Season )
Outdoor sex 💋
Age Gap 💋
Johnathan Crane
Sucker! 💋
Soft Sex 💋
Let Me Show You 🦋💋
Spankings ✨
CNC ⚠️💋
Emmett ( A Quiet Place)
Dark Daddy Kink 💋⚠️
yandere!emmett 💋⚠️
size kink 💋
DDLG 💋
Robert Fischer
Soft Sugar Daddy 🦋
Spoiled Rotten 🦋
Taking Your Virgnity 💋
Dirty Talk 🦋
Being Pregnant 🦋
Comforting you during a panic attack 🦋
Thomas Shelby
Classic Vionlist 🦋
Calling Him Pretty 🦋
An Artist 🦋
He noticed you 🦋
You're a movie star darling 💋
Tits and Ass 💋
Phone Sex 💋
Thigh Riding 💋
Being Choked out 💋
High Libido💋
A ride home ⚠️💋
Be a good girl ✨
Neil Lewis
Sex Shop 💋
Supprotive Best Friend 💋
Stalker Neil 💋
Morning Sex 💋
AU Cillian
Volleyball 🦋
Bimbo! Reader 🦋💋
Beard + Face Riding 💋
How to ride 💋
Spanking & DDLG 💋
Making a sex tape 💋
Stalker Cillian part 1 , part 2
First Night on the honeymoon 💋
Caught in the act 💋
Just Spanking 💋
Sugar Daddy 💋
Taking you from behind 💋
Bathroom Blowjob 💋
Young Actress Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 🦋🦋🦋
Trophy Wife 🦋
Merry Christmas Daddy 🦋💋
Breeding his younger wife 💋
Waking him up 💋
CNC after a long day 💋
"Shut it off!"💋
During the Golden Globes 🦋💋
After he won the Golden Globes🦋💋
VS Model Wife 🦋
Priest Cillian: Little Lamb Part 1 🦋💋 Part 2
Dunkirk Threesome ft. Harry Styles 💋
Nightmare 🦋⚠️
Starstruck photographer 🌙🦋
Oppenheimer screening 💋
Making a baby 🦋💋
AU: Dark!Cillian x naive actress 💋⚠️
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The Girl Worth Fighting For
Well-known boxer Harry Styles has been a regular at his trainer Antonio Montez’s gym, and he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. But, Antonio’s daughter Lola also comes around, and Harry wants her all to himself. Is she a girl worth fighting for?
SMUT / ANGST; Kinks include: deep penetration, face-fucking, deepthroating, riding, age gap (7 years), creampie
“Keep goin’, Styles,” Antonio yelled, encouraging Harry to hit the punching bag harder and with more vigor. With that, Harry used all of his power to hit the bag with enough impact to send the bag flying backwards each time.
It was a normal training day for Harry at Antonio’s, a gym he’s been going to since he had moved to New York and began his boxing career at 19. The owner of the place, Antonio Montez, built this place from the ground up (both literally and physically), and ever since Harry’s been there, he had treated him like he was his own son. He’d make him home cooked meals and carry them to the gym, take Harry out to sports games with him, and even give him advice in his personal life. The two men were very close.
Antonio also had a daughter, Lola, who had been helping around with errands and supplies for the gym whenever he needed them. Although Harry had been going to that gym for 6 years now, he had never seen her until recently when she started working part-time. He recalls Antonio being a divorced man, so he could put together that Lola probably lived with her mom during those 6 years. From previous conversations with her, Harry learned that she was a 20 year old student at FIT working on her degree for Fashion & Design, and was currently in her second year. She was quite a good girl: smart, obedient, a great sense of style, and a true Daddy’s girl.
But that’s not all Harry noticed about her. Lola had long beautiful brown hair with a red ombre that got brighter as her hair trailed down to her beautiful collarbones, the left one being engraved with a tattoo of a zodiac glyph (the sign of Scorpio maybe? Harry wasn’t too apt when it came to astrology). She wore glasses sometimes, but Harry assumed that she had contacts on the days she didn’t. Her body was full and beautiful; her bust spilled out of every top she wore, her thighs and ass were thick and the jiggles they made as she walked always captivated him, and her love handles accentuated her God-given curves. He noticed the stretch marks and freckles that adorned her skin. She was just perfect.
Lola walked inside of the building, carrying bags of supplies that her father asked her to buy for the gym. She placed them into the storage room and walked back out, running up to her dad and giving him a tight squeeze. “Hi, daddy!,” she said as he held her tight.
Antonio let go and smiled down at his daughter. “Mija, que paso?” He asked her, curious with how her day went.
Lola smiled. “It went well, daddy. I finished up the errands for the house this morning and took Bubba (their dog) out for a walk! I also got the supplies you said you wanted from the warehouse! See?” She pointed at the supplies settled in the storage room, a huge smile on her face as she looked up at her dad.
Her father smiled proudly, “That’s my girl! Thanks so much for the help, mija. This gym wouldn’t be what it is today without your support.”
From the corner of his eye, Harry noticed the glimmer of Lola’s teeth as she smiled at the praise her father just gave her. He loved to see Lola’s beautiful smile form that arched shape on her lips, but didn’t let it distract him too much from his training. Besides, her father was right there, and Harry didn’t want him to notice how captivated he was by his daughter.
Antonio continued speaking to his daughter, until a question popped up that caught Harry by surprise. “And how was the date?”
Harry’s stomach dropped. Date? She went on a date? Or did she eat dates? What was happening? His thoughts ran wild as he continued punching the bag, his hits getting harder with every word they spoke as they continued their conversation.
Lola smiled and let out a small giggle. “I enjoyed it. He was really nice. We went to that Korean restaurant and I got some bibimbap!”
“Did he treat my baby girl well?” Antonio questioned, nudging his daughter’s shoulder in a playful way.
“Yeah, I’m planning on meeting up with him again this weekend!”
Harry punched the bag with the hardest punch he could throw, his rage fueling his fire. The bag seemed to fly all the way back because of the force of Harry’s blow. Both Antonio and Lola looked at him in shock and confusion.
Harry noticed the two’s stares, and he cleared his throat. “Sorry ‘bout that. I got immersed. Thought I was in a real fight.” He let out a fake snicker towards the end of his statement, and Antonio chuckled as well.
“That’s alright, Styles. It happens,” he reassured Harry, patting the boxer’s shoulder with his hand. “Continue doing what you’re doing, bud.”
***
The night came and it was finally closing time. All of the patrons left, and it was only Harry, Antonio, and Lola left in the building. Harry usually stayed until closing on some days when he really wanted to train. He genuinely enjoyed being at that gym- it was like his sanctuary or safe space where he could let off steam and be around people he cared about. Antonio and Lola being those people.
Harry sat on a bench, taking off his boxing gloves and removing his mouth guard as he noticed Antonio packing up. Lola was getting the last bit of cleaning done, and Harry watched as she bent down to sanitize one of the metal bars of the equipment. She was wearing yoga pants, and her ass looked absolutely delectable to Harry. But of course, he quickly turned away before anyone would notice, especially her father. He heard the jingling of keys come from the corner of the room as he turned around.
“Alright, honey, I’m gonna let you finish up and then close up shop,” he said Lola.
Lola got up from her position to look at her father. “Okay, Dad, I’ll do that. I’m gonna miss you.” She ran up to her dad to give him a tight embrace and a kiss on his cheek.
Antonio let out a belly-laugh. “Honey, we’re literally going to see each other at the house later. Don’t miss me too much.” He looked over to Harry. “G’night, champ! See ya next week! Make sure she does her job.”
Harry smiled at Antonio. “Same time, same place! And don’t worry; she’s in very safe hands, Tony!” He looked towards Lola, still with a huge smile on his face, and she looked right back at him, cracking a smile.
“Alright, kids! Goodnight!” Antonio pushed through the glass doors and disappeared through the night. A slight breeze came through the doors, and Lola shivered a bit.
“It’s a bit chilly tonight, huh?” She questioned Harry, who was busy packing his duffel bag. “You should put on a sweater or something before you head out.”
“Yeah,” he answered a bit plainly. “Thanks.”
Lola noticed his monotone voice. He wasn’t normally like that. Whenever they would strike up a conversation, his voice was always so expressive and colorful. He’d always look into her eyes whenever they spoke, and they would always seem to sparkle as if he were intrigued with whatever she was saying to him. It was different tonight, though.
“Harry, you alright?” She asked.
Harry quickly glanced at her, but resumed packing his bag and keeping himself busy. “Yep. I’m alright.”
“No, no, you’re not. Harry, please, tell me what’s wrong.” She was genuinely concerned about him. That was her father’s best customer. He’d always been nice to him and her. So, what was the matter?
Of course, he was irritated. He literally overheard her and her dad discussing a date she went on. A date that happened today! Why wouldn’t he be pissed?
“Just having a bad day is all,” he answered, his voice still monotone. “You sure had fun today, though,” he said, hinting at the date, which Lola noticed. His voice was laced with fire and rage, something very different and obvious to his normal speaking voice.
Lola stood in thought for a moment, looking up as if she were trying to deliberate what he was saying with her brain. A lightbulb went off all of a sudden. “A-Are you talking about my date? Well, yeah, I had fun.” She was confused. “Why?” She noticed Harry clench his fist as he grabbed his gym towel. The veins of his tattooed hand and arm popped out, showing that his anger was absolutely seeping through him. Then she realized. “Are you jealous?”
Harry furrowed his eyebrows, his expression looking more upset than ever. He just jumped straight to the point, asking “Did you have sex with him, Lola?”
His straightforwardness caught Lola by surprise. “What?!”
“Did you and your date sleep with each other?” He started to walk over to her.
Lola was stunned by this question. It was too invasive. And why did he want to know? “You’re not my father, my brother, my man, or anyone of importance for me to tell you. You don’t own me, so why should I tell you?” She looked up directly into Harry’s eyes, only a feet inches away from her as if they were having a standoff. She furrowed her eyebrows at him angrily, wanting to try to intimidate him.
But, Harry scoffed. She looked cute when she was trying to put her foot down. He decided to stir the pot to stand his own ground. “You’re right, I don’t own you,” he paused for a second. “But I can make you mine.” He raised his eyebrow and grinned.
The woman gasped at his statement. “What do you mean by that?”
Harry took a step closer. “I can make you mine. But, only if you’ll let me.” He grabbed her by her jawline, stroking her cheek with his thumb as he looked into her eyes.
“Will you let me, Lola?”
Lola nodded slowly. She didn’t even really know what she was agreeing to, but something in here told her to. So, she did. Might as well.
“Open your mouth, sweetheart,” he whispered into her lips. “Open ‘em- there you go.”
Lola opened her mouth at his command, not really expecting what could happen next. Her mind was dazed, and honestly she would do anything he told her too if he wanted.
Harry bent his neck a bit, so that his mouth could be over hers. Just then, he dropped some of his saliva into her mouth. It was warm and the texture was different to say the least, and Lola kept it onto her tongue with her mouth still open, awaiting for his next move.
Harry smiled and let out a small chuckle from under his breath. “You just gonna let it sit there or..?” He joked with her as he looked up and down at her current state.
Lola quickly swallowed his spit down, feeling it slide down her throat alongside her own. It was a strange yet appealing feeling. And she wanted more.
Harry grabbed her by the back of her neck and kissed her. It was something sloppy, wet, raw, and disgusting, the type that made a couple swallow each other’s tongues and taste each other’s souls. As he released her from the kiss, his lips bit into hers. “Good girl,” the man complimented her, noticing her flushed cheeks as he grinned. “Now,” he began to take off his sweatpants, removing one leg at a time, and Lola’s jaw dropped again as she looked at the package this man was hiding this whole time underneath, “I want you to take off your clothes, get on your knees, and prove to me why you should be mine.”
Lola couldn’t say she was prepared for this. It’s not like she hasn’t sucked dick before, but this was Harry Styles, one of the most infamous boxers in the boxing world. He was just so big… and experienced. He was 7 years older than her, and much richer than her, so how could he not have had girls in the same position as she is right now. But she had to forget about that right now, like her brain kept repeating since this whole altercation started. Just live in the moment. So, she quickly stripped herself down and got on her knees. Luckily, there was a gym mat underneath her that cushioned her joints and made this a bit more comfortable.
The man looked down upon Lola and his grin went away as he wanted to assert his dominance over her in this position. He grabbed the back of her head, taking her hair into his hands as he positioned his cock to her mouth. She pouted her lips and kissed his tip, causing Harry to let out a small gasp. “Eager little thing,” he said with a tsk. Not wanting to waste any more time, he pushed himself into her mouth. “Now, suck.”
Lola immediately started to take him, getting used to the feeling of his girth stretching out her mouth. But, as soon as she was familiar with him, she brought his tip to the back of her throat, causing her to gag. Harry was amazed at what he was seeing; the girl was trying to take him all in one go! “You’re gonna take all of me?” She nodded, her mouth taking him in deeper. “Oh, good girl,” Harry responded, drawing out the word “girl” as his nerves on the tip of his cock reacted to the back of her throat constantly hitting them.
“You’re sucking me off like a big girl, Lola,” he murmured as she continued deepthroating him, his hand caressing the back of her head. “Don’t even need me to teach you anything, love.” He removed his hands from her and put them up in a way to hint that she could take the reins as she continued to take him deep into her.
Discovering how daring this girl was, Harry wanted to try out something a bit different than the normal positions. “Alright, darling, get up off the ground f’me,”he said, pulling back her hair so that her mouth could pop off of his cock. “C’mon, we don’t have all night, princess.”
Lola managed to stand up and before she could even look at him, he grabbed her hips and lifted her up, flipping her upside-down. Lola let out a little squeak, making Harry laugh and slap her ass. “That scared you?,” he laughed again. Lola rolled her eyes, although he couldn’t see her reaction, and slapped his thigh, “Yes, you fucking dick,” she responded.
Harry stopped laughing as he noticed his view. “Look at this perfect fuckin’ cunt,” he said in awe as he looked at the sight before him. She looked like a pretty flower, in bloom and ready to be picked. Her puffy labia had a glossy sheen to them as they shone in the bright lights of the room, looking like dewy petals after it had rained. Her little clit stuck out a bit from its hood, and it was the centerpiece. He couldn’t wait to try her.
“You alright down there?” he asked as he remembered that she was literally upside down and relied on only his strength to stay in this position. He knew the blood was rushing to her head; the feeling was familiar to him as he did handstands as a part of his training.
Lola gave him a nod, but quickly realized he couldn’t see anything so she forced out a “yes”. The blood rushed to her head, but she didn’t care as all she wanted to do right now was to please the man lifting her up. Her life was in his hands so to speak because if he dropped her, she would land right on her skull, and that wouldn’t look pretty. But, Harry was built for this. His grip was tight around her lower body as he held her up, her pussy to his face as he was about to provide Lola some relief.
Harry managed to shift his pelvis towards her head, trying to find her lips with the tip of dick. Once he felt them, he shifted himself inside of her, causing her to let out a garbled moan as he managed to hit the back of her throat. He started to thrust into her mouth, while his mouth began its movements, his tongue gliding around her labia. Lola’s moans, although garbled, vibrated onto Harry’s shaft and even his balls as they slapped onto her cupid’s bow, and he could swear he was transported to heaven.
Harry’s tongue slid itself into her little hole, and he could feel every ripple of her walls as they clenched around his membrane. His chin found some way to rub against her clit, and Lola could feel the hairs of his stubble flick every nerve. The friction caused her to tap onto Harry’s thigh. Harry knew what this meant, and quickly moved himself from her mouth. “Y’alright?” he asked her, pausing his motions of his tongue to get some sort of coherent response from her. Once he heard her take a deep breath and respond with a “yes”, he thrusted his cock right back into her, immediately finding his way back to her epiglottis, and Lola started to gag. Harry could feel the drool drip down his thighs and took a quick glance to the ground, noticing her saliva make a pool by his feet. But, it was all a glorious, euphoric feeling, and Harry took that as encouragement to suck onto her clit and dip the tip of his nose into her hole. The way she smelled was just as enticing as what was taking place, and Lola was just as pleased as she could taste the man inside and all around her own mouth.
Harry removed his mouth from her lower region, using his tongue to lick up the residue that stained his lips and chin. “Alright, honey, I’m putting you down now,” he told her as he used his strength to flip the girl rightside up. He laid Lola onto the floor, rubbing his hands down her skin to make sure that she was alright. She blushed as she felt his calloused hands move down her body, not really expecting how gentle he would be with her, especially with him being a boxer and all.
Harry held onto his shaft as he shuffled his body between Lola’s legs. He opened her legs a bit more with a gentle touch, and aligned himself with the opening to her cunt, mentally preparing himself for what was about to happen. “You ready, love?” Lola nodded and looked down to see what happened next.
Both Harry and Lola let out a gasp as he pushed inside.
“Oh, darling, you fit like a fuckin’ glove,” he said, a groan escaping his lips as he managed to put himself as deep as he could inside of her warm core. Lola let out little moans which pleased Harry’s ears as he knew the girl was loving this moment too.
“Ohhhh,” he drawled out in realization as he felt her cunt pulse a bit tighter after his statement. “You like being praised, huh? Being told you’re doing a good job by an older man? I noticed that with you and your daddy’s conversation earlier.” He smirked while stroking into her deeper. “A real praise slut you are. And you deserve every word.”
His thrusts were slow, yet deep, as he really wanted to really revel in the moment. He was finally fucking the beautful girl he’d always pictured himself with. And she felt like everything he wanted. Luckiest man in the world, he was.
Lola was in paradise. Her moans were guttural and low as she felt him inside of her. With every thrust, she let out a little curse or mumble underneath her breath, which were words of encouragement to Harry to keep going. She didn’t want this to end.
He started to angle his strokes upward, wanting to experiment with her and see if he could find the imprint of his cock through her lower stomach. As soon as he saw it, he rubbed in the area, and Lola cried out even louder. “You feel me right there, honey? In your tummy?” She moaned in confirmation, and her head tried to go up and down to nod along.
A couple more strokes went on and more moans were released as Harry fucking her. It was an erotic scene, almost as if they were shooting a porno. His balls consistently slapped against her perineum with every thrust and his thumb circled her little aching clit as, causing moans that Lola never experienced before with previous partners. Her walls started to clench around Harry, and he was quick to notice when a girl was about to orgasm. So he did what any man would do.
He pulled out, leaving Lola confused as she started to whimper. She almost looked like she was on the brink of tears. Harry chuckled under his breath. He didn’t want to pull out (and judging by her reaction, he could tell she didn’t want him to either) but Harry wanted to switch positions.
He decided to lay onto the mat, spreading his legs a bit, but leaving his head up to look at the girl, still whimpering because of her stalled release. “Alright, get on top of me, sweet girl,” he said, slapping his hands on his thighs for emphasis.
Lola nodded, a sweet and simple “okay”, escaping her lips as she found her way down. She swung one of her legs over him, putting herself into position above him. Harry stroked her jaw with his thumb yet again as he soothed the trembling and needy girl on top of him. He smiled, saying, “You were such a good girl taking my cock like that, sweetheart. Now, I want you to rub your pussy on my cock, okay? Just want you to get used to this position with me, yeah? Show me how you’re gonna take me. Prove to me you’re worthy of being my big girl.” His words were laced with lust, but his eyes were filled with desperation and need. As much as he wanted to feel Lola wrapped around him, he still wanted to get her worked up a bit.
Although she really wanted him inside of her again, she obliged and placed her aching cunt onto the shaft of his cock and started her movements. His shaft started to glisten with the coating from her warmth as her labia rubbed against him; what a delicious sight for him to see. His veins were prominent and Lola swore she could count the amount he had just by feeling him underneath her. She glided on him back and forth repeatedly, which emitted moans from her mouth of pleasure, yet also yearning. She wanted to feel herself do that with his cock inside of her, wanted to feel his shaft touch every part of her from the inside.
Suddenly, Harry grabbed Lola by her hips and steadied her movements, holding her tightly in his grasp. He positioned himself a bit more comfortably, aiming his cock to her ready entrance, and started to move his lower half upwards to fuck up into her.
Lola couldn’t help but moan and throw her head back. Harry was hitting the deepest, most delicious spots inside of her more than any man had ever tried in the past. Her pussy clenched around him, causing the wetness that was already seeping through her hole to slide down his length. It created a beautiful sight for the two of them to see.
Harry kept fucking his hips up, and lowered Lola’s body a bit lower so that he could feel her as deep as he could. He managed to find an angle where the base of his shaft could glide against her G-spot while the tip of him could poke out an indentation through her lower belly, and Harry let out a moan as if he were touched by an angel. A small “yes” drew from under his breath as he continued his movements.
“Lookin’ like a pretty princess up there, riding my cock like that,” he said absent-mindedly. “You just need a tiara.” His words just sped through his mouth without censorship, his brain too focused on making sure both him and Lola were receiving pleasure. He reached his hand down to her ass and spanked one of her cheeks, and his balls felt the skin jiggle on him, making him moan. He decided to use both hands to spank each cheek interchangeably, which vibrated against his sack, another loud moan escaping his lips. And it obviously was just as pleasurable for Lola as he noticed how she squealed at every force of impact and how her cunt pulsed with every stroke of his cock.
“Look at those fuckin tits, too, fuckin’ hell,” He said, his eyes in a trance as he stared at them. “Look at ‘em fucking bounce. Your daddy’s making you walk in a gym filled with all these gross old men havin’ a look at these? Irresponsible,” he joked, making himself laugh a bit in the process. But, the feeling of Lola’s pussy clenching around him at the praise lured him back into moaning again. “Shit- you’re somethin’ special, love.” Harry felt like he was in nirvana. He had a beautiful girl hopping on his cock like a little bunny, her tits bouncing along in circles, and her ass pounding on his balls with each thrust. Her beautiful skin was glowing with a bit of sweat, and her cunt enveloped around his cock in a way that nothing else could. It was amazing.
Lola couldn’t take it anymore. All of this pleasure circulated throughout her body- from her toes, to her pussy, to her ass, her stomach, her breasts, her neck, her head, and all throughout her spine. She just couldn’t handle it, and it caused her to fall forward onto Harry’s chest. She dug her head in the spot between his shoulder and neck, giving that spot on his skin a little kiss before shifting her head so she would be able to moan and breathe without difficulty. She repeatedly called out his name as she felt her abdomen starting to heat up, indicating that she was nearing her peak.
Harry held onto her, wrapping his arms around her back and putting them in a cradling position as he continued to thrust his cock inside of her. “I’m right here, pretty girl. Look at me,” he instructed her with a gentle tone, and the girl somehow managed to tilt her head and look into his eyes. “Yeah, look at me, princess. You’re just a beauty, aren’t you?” Harry shifted one of his hands to the back of her head, allowing him to make sure that they stayed face-to-face. “My gorgeous girl. Mine. No one else’s. This is my pussy, my breasts…” He kissed the tip of her nose. “My nose”. He kissed her left cheek. “My cheek”. He finally kissed her lips, this time with more passion than the first. His tongue explored the inside of her mouth once more, her body allowing him to do so as she was still focused on her own orgasm. “My fuckin’ lips, yeah? My fuckin’ mouth.”
All of his sweet nothings traveled from Lola’s ear to her abdomen, and it helped egg on her orgasm. She finally reached her climax, and Harry was amazed at the sight he saw and the physical reactions she had. Her whole body shook and pelvis bucked repeatedly as she came, and her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Harry stroked the hand cradling her head through her hair as a soothing gesture, hoping that it could help ease the intensity of her orgasm. “I’m right here, darling. Right here. You’re alright,” he whispered in her ear, adding extra words to help pacify the situation.
Just as Lola was calming down, Harry could feel his orgasm nearing, and picked up his pace just a bit, but not too much to make Leila cry out. His grip on her tightened, and Lola kissed all over his face- his cheeks, his lips, his chin- to help him through his climax. Then, she could feel the little spurts of his cum fill her up from the inside.
“Take my fucking cum, Lola,” Harry grumbled into her ear as he came so deep inside of her. “Let me own you, spread my seed inside so you know you’re mine.” He let out a deep groan as he continued before saying these four words, “I love you, Lola.”
Lola’s eyes widened as she heard this sentence, but she didn’t want to make her shock obvious. She allowed Harry to finish his orgasm, and as he did, he pulled out of her and helped her come off of him. She rolled to his side and then faced him, wanting to confront him about his confession.
“You… you love me?” She asked, and Harry picked up on the genuine confusion in her voice. To be honest, it almost sounded like she was… offended?
“Yes, Lola, I’ve loved you for all this time,” the man finally admitted, tears staining his eyes. “When I noticed that date you went on,” he sniffled for a moment before continuing, “with that- that dickhead.”
Lola sat up in protest. “Harry, don’t call him a dickhead! You don’t even know h-”
Harry cut her off. “I don’t need to know him! And I don’t want to get to know him; I want to get to know you!” He took a couple breaths, his chest rising and faltering as the air went in and out of his body to calm down. He didn’t want to be too harsh with the girl.
“What I need to hear from you right now is,” he paused, wanting to stop himself from saying something he might regret and something she might be afraid of.
But, Lola wanted to know what he had to say. “Is what, Harry?”
Harry sighed and finally looked into her eyes. He noticed her crying, probably even more than he was. They were both a mess. He didn’t want her to cry, but he had to ask her one last thing. “I need to know… Do you love me, Lola?”
She didn’t know what to think honestly. Yeah, the sex was good, and Harry was pouring his heart out to her. But… something was missing.
“Harry, I appreciate you. You’ve been there for my father at the hardest parts of his life. He told me how much you meant to him. How you’ve been… like a son to him. I mean he’s known you since you were my age! You’re 27 now!” And it was all true. After every workday, her father would talk about Harry in the car and at the house. He would bring up Harry’s little awkward shuffle that he did whenever he was waiting for the restroom. He talked about how Harry went through a rough patch with a best friend, and how he was able to help him through that time. He would ramble on and on about this “Harry Styles” whenever she was at the house. She knew of him, but she didn’t know him personally.
“And then there’s you and I. I’m so much younger than you! I mean, you’re pushing 30, and I’m barely in my 20s. We’ve only had a true conversation with each other like twice,” She showed him her index and middle finger for reference. “I told you about my student life and the hobbies I had. The only time I ever spoke to you outside of the gym was when my car broke down and Daddy said I should call you to pick me up. Even that car ride wasn’t anything meaningful to build our bond.”
Harry was enraged. “Then why would you have sex with me? Why would you make me cum inside you? That didn’t mean shit to you?”
Lola brought her head down in embarrassment, not even realizing what had just occurred before this argument until now. “I just wanted to have some fun. I don’t even really know why. Just listen, Harry, if we were to get together, it’d be weird for everyone.”
Harry sat there in silence. He didn’t really know how to respond to what she said. His mind started racing. Oh fuck, I just fucked my trainer’s daughter, he thought. I just had sex… with the daughter of the man who took care of me for so many years. Just cuz I thought she was hot? What the fuck is wrong with me? He started to hyperventilate, his heart seemingly bursting out of his chest.
All of a sudden, he stood up. Lola noticed how his skin was pale, his eyes were blank, and how his chest rose up and down at a fast pace as he hyperventilated. She reached out to grab his forearm, but Harry just nudged her off. “I have to go,” he stated so simply, his voice laced in distraught. “I just-” he sighed. “Make sure to lock up properly before you leave.” He grabbed the duffel bag with his clothes and equipment, said his goodnights and goodbyes, and pushed through the exit of the gym, leaving Lola there all alone. Tears flooded her eyes. What… just happened?
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Home Stretch
read my other work here
pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader
word count: 1.3k
summary: as the tour comes to an end, the schedule starts to visibly take its toll on Harry, and you can't help but worry.
warnings: a couple of curse words, but other than that, it's tame.
a/n: we've all seen the Frankfurt night 2 videos. our boy is slowing down, so i had this idea for a blurb. i'll miss all the looks and videos and everything we've been getting the last couple of years, but i'm so glad he's going to be able to take some time to relax and recover.
tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @lexiecamposv @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat
You watched on with so much pride and joy as Harry gave his all on stage. It was the second night in Frankfurt, and your last night on the tour for two weeks. You had some family obligations that you needed to go back to the states for, but you promised Harry that you would be there for his last show. And then the two of you would ride off into the sunset and hide away together for a few weeks. You were looking forward to that.
Your mind had drifted off, thinking about the two of you isolated in a villa somewhere, but quickly snapped back to the present when you saw Harry falter onstage, it looked as if his knee had given out. Your heart stopped and your eyes went wide.
You lean over, getting Brad’s attention. “Did you see that?”
Brad nodded in response. “It’s been a long tour, and you know how hard he pushes up there.”
Your worried eyes are locked on Harry when it suddenly clicks; he hadn’t been doing as many jumps as he usually does, his satellite stops had been lacking their usual stomp. He’s hurting, but still pushing so hard. You can’t seem to let go of your concern. Your fingers start tapping against your thighs, a nervous tick of yours. You have to do something, you can’t just stand here and watch him push and continue to hurt himself.
“I’m going to go back and make sure there’s an ice bath ready for him as soon as he gets off.” You tell Brad, who nods in acknowledgement, but you don’t see it. You had turned and started to make your way backstage as soon as you finished the sentence.
When you get to the backstage area, you arrange an ice bath for him and make sure his dressing room is set up with towels and his post show change of clothes. You just have to be doing something.
Once you had things set up for him, you went to the side of the stage to watch the rest of the show. You were studying his every move looking for any signs of pain or discomfort. When he noticed that you had moved from your usual spot in the front of the house, he shot you a questioning look. You simply shrugged and shot him a wink.
Your concern continued through the rest of the show, relieved when he substituted finger guns for his usual ‘Kiwi kicks’. You positioned yourself so that you would be right there when he got offstage, as he skipped toward the exit, you saw the moment where he decided he was far enough from the crowd that he could drop the facade. His skip quickly turned to a limp, and he practically doubled over.
You rushed over to him, placing a hand on his back and offering your other arm to him for support. “Baby, are you alright?”
Harry chuckled, a small cough escaping him. “I’m fine princess, you worry too much.” He leaned in, kissing you softly. “Why’d you come back here? I like having you in the audience.”
Despite assuring you he was fine, he continued to use your arm for support as you slowly made your way to his dressing room. “Because you’re hurt, and I wanted to make sure to get everything set up for you as soon as you got offstage.”
“Set up everything?” He asked. You opened the door to his dressing room to reveal the ice bath you had prepared for him. He looked over at you with a wide smile. “God, I love you.”
You leaned up, pressing a kiss to his lips. He puts his hand on the back of your head, deepening it. You pull away with a smirk. “I love you too. Now get in there, I’m going to go–”
“No, stay with me.” He pleads. “You’re leaving tomorrow and I’m not going to see you for two whole weeks.” He gave you his best puppy dog face, the one he knew you couldn’t resist.
“Ugh, fine.” You roll your eyes playfully. “But I am not getting into that thing.” You point to the tub filled with ice and water.
“Your loss,” he shrugs, closing the dressing room door and immediately stripping down.
You get yourself comfortable on the couch as Harry lowers himself into the tub. You give him a few minutes of silence as he adjusts to the temperature change.
“So, how did I do tonight princess?” He asked once he was settled.
You let out a deep sigh. “You were good, but I’m really starting to get worried about you.”
His brow knit in confusion. “Why?”
“Harry Edward Styles, you have got to be kidding me?”
“Did you just use my full name?” He was taken aback.
“You’re goddamned right I did. Baby you did amazing, you always do, but you give so much of yourself, it’s starting to take a toll on you. And I’m worried about you.”
“Oh angel,” he reaches his hand out to you. You scoot over on the couch to get closer to him, taking his offered hand. “Please don’t worry. There are only five shows left, I’ll get through these and then I’ll get some time to rest. We’ll get some time to rest.” He brings your joined hands to his lips. “Besides, I have you here to take care of me, so I know everything will be fine.”
“Yeah, but I’m not going to be here for four out of those five shows. What if something bad happens?” Your breath hitches slightly as you try to control your emotions.
Harry’s brows round in concern. “Baby, come here.” He tugs on your arm, and you narrow your eyes, making him chuckle. “I promise I won’t pull you in.” You move closer, kneeling beside the tub. He rests his hand on the side of your neck, pulling you in so your forehead rests against his. “I promise you, I am going to give everything I have responsibly for the last few shows. I will keep modifying things, and take it extra easy offstage. But I owe it to the fans to give them everything I possibly can until the end.”
“I know, I’m just afraid that you’re going to give so much that you won’t have enough for yourself once this is all over. You’re too selfless sometimes.” You raise your free hand, pushing a stray curl out of his face.
Harry kisses you, you can feel him smile against your lips. “I love you for worrying about me as much as you do. And for taking care of me like this. As much fun as I’m having, and as sad as I am to see the tour come to an end, I’m looking forward to having some time to take care of you, and try to pay you back for everything you’ve done for me this whole time. And I plan to be in tip top shape when I do that.”
“You don’t have to pay me back for anything. I do this because I love you, and the fact that I get to be here by your side and love you is all the payback I need.” You lean in, placing a lingering kiss on his lips.
Harry groans as you pull away. “Are you sure you need to leave tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” you sigh. “I’ve got my mom’s whole birthday thing. I need to be home for that.”
“But you’ll be in Italy?” He questions.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you say with a smile. “Somebody is going to need to have an ice bath ready for you.” You wink.
“Will you do that one with me?” He asked hopefully.
You scrunch your face, hating the idea of sitting in a giant bucket of cold water. “Maybe.”
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles x plus size reader#harry styles headcanon#harry styles fluff#harry's house#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry edward styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles one shot#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#love on tour#harry styles blurb#harry styles fic
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friends, right? pt.2
you didn’t really think i’d leave you hanging like that, did you??
word count: 4.2k-ish
disc. nsfw content ahead. mdni. includes fem!reader n harry styles, daddy kink ig, teasing, praise, oral, sexy time, bold ass language, best friends but not really vibes n other hot shit.
read pt.1 here <3
•••
You open your eyes with difficulty, finding it hard not to melt away at how good Harry’s thigh is making you feel. If he’s making you feel so good by just sitting there and letting you use him, how good could he make you feel if he actually does something to you himself? God—
“Gonna cum for me, love?” Harry’s voice is in your ear and all you want is to come undone, “Can feel you shaking already.”
“Fuck—” You struggle to keep your eyes open as you moan, “I’m..H—Harry I’m—”
He cuts you off with a kiss, and you moan into his mouth, “I know love, s’okay. Let it happen, let it out. Let me feel it,” He whispers as you pull away, his eyes set on yours as you continue to move your hips along his thigh, “Cum for me, Red.”
Oh. Oh.
Your mouth falls open, your eyes rolling back as your orgasm takes you by surprise, crashing down all at once. Your legs begin to shake and Harry holds you in place, his hands by your waist as he watches you.
“There you go,” He whispers words of praise to you, kissing your neck as you throw your head back lazily, “Theeere you go, love.”
You whimper as he continues to move your hips against him, letting you ride out your high.
“Yeah? I know, poor baby,” He smirks at how fucked out you already are, taunting you, “So good for me, hm?”
You bite down on your lip and nod, and he leans in to bite it himself. You melt against him, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to deepen your kiss.
“Stand up.” He murmurs against your lips, and you oblige.
He grabs a hold of your hand, knowing you’ll need it in a second. You struggle for a moment when you first get up, using Harry as support. It takes you a few seconds but you’re able to stand.
Harry’s eyes are on you and he’s taking you in, looking at you properly for the first time since you took your clothes off. He was in such a rush before, such a rush to let you use him, such a rush to make you feel good—that he didn’t realise how fucking sexy you look with nothing covering you up.
As he’s looking at you, you notice that the situation isn’t very fair. You haven’t got any clothes on, and Harry’s still got his boxers on. Normally you wouldn't think that that’s a lot of clothing, but compared to what you have on..
Harry seems to read your mind, smirking and reaching for his boxers when you reach forward and stop him.
“Wh—” He furrows his brows at you, confused.
“Let me,” You whisper, reaching for his boxers yourself.
Harry arches his brow at you slightly, clearly not expecting for you to be so direct with him. He’s always seen you as the innocent one out of the two of you. You were never the type to sleep around or have meaningless sex the way a lot of your other friends—including him—would. Harry’s always expected for you to be the shy, innocent fuck and you’ve always been fine with it because what’s wrong with that? And you’ve never felt the need to prove yourself to anyone and he has no idea and oh you’re going to enjoy this.
You give Harry a quick kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth to make him think that you’re about to kiss him for a lot longer than you actually are. When he leans into your touch and tries to grab a hold of your waist to deepen the kiss, you pull back, breaking away. Harry tenses his jaw. You’re teasing him. It’s working.
“Red..” He murmurs your pet name as if to warn you not to go too far, to warn you not to torture him with your touch.
You look at him and smirk, sinking to your knees. His eyes follow you and his lips part in anticipation as you reach for his boxers again, your eyes still glued to his as you start to palm him through his boxers.
“Fuck,” He breathes out, his eyes widening at the feeling of your hands against him. “Oh, fuck—"
You bite your lip and reach your fingers under the hem of the fabric, slowly pulling it down. You’re agonisingly slow. Seeing Harry’s chest rise and fall at the rate it is, is only making you want to go even slower.
He’s giving you front row tickets to your favourite show.
“P—please, love,” He murmurs, cupping your cheek and running his thumb along it for a moment, “Take ‘em off for me.”
You smile up at him and nod, satisfied with his desperation. When you finally pull them down that little bit more, his cock springs free, slapping up against his stomach. He sucks in a breath as you reach forward, wrapping both of your warm hands around him.
You look up at him, flattening your tongue against his tip and licking him once. Just once.
He tastes so good that you struggle not to taste him some more.
His head tilts back against the wall and his mouth hangs open, slack as a string of dirty words fall from his lips. He’s tense.
“Relax, H,” You whisper, looking up at him innocently as you use his own words against him, “Let it happen,” You place a kiss to his tip, “Let it out,” You lick him, “Let me feel it.” You wrap your mouth around him, bobbing your head until he’s completely lost in you. Harry sucks in a breath, looking down at you with his lips parted.
“Fucking god—fuck—shit—” His eyebrows are knit together, in complete disbelief at how fucking filthy you look for him right now. Here you are, on your knees in front of him with his cock in your mouth, hitting the back of your throat over and over and over and over and over again. Harry’s never felt like this in his life. He’s never gotten head the way you’re giving it to him. He’s never felt so many things at once. He’s never been so taken back by how good someone’s making him feel. He’s never been lightheaded. Never. Not like this.
The best part? You look like there’s no place you’d rather be.
He lets out a moan, beginning to losing his mind as he tightens his grip on your head, tugging your face up so he can get a better look at you, “Fuckin—” He lets out another moan when you smirk at him and exhale, feeling the vibrations on his cock, “Y/N—love—I’m—”
You move your head up for a moment, replacing it with your hands, “I know, H,” You whisper, “It’s okay.”
His eyes screw shut and he throws his head back, groaning and moaning and whimpering all at once, “Aaah fuckin—”
You take him back into your mouth. His fingers grasp at your hair desperately, as if he’s drowning and you’re his life raft, and his hips jerk towards you, faltering as he begins to reach his limit, “Fuck,” He drops his head to look down at you, his lips parted as he pants out your name, “Yeah, fuck—Red,” He reaches down and strokes your face with his thumb, taking in the sight of you as you continue bobbing your head, “Yeah. Fucking yeaaah,” He bites his lip, another string of moans escaping his mouth all at once, “Can’t take it, fuck—”
You bob your head faster. Suck harder. Move your tongue around. Move your hands against his balls. You do everything you can. And Harry loves every second of it.
You don’t stop when you feel your throat filling with his cum, you don’t stop when he falls back against the wall from how hard his orgasm hit, you don’t stop when he tells you how good you are, how well you took him, how badly he wants to fuck you. You don’t stop until he’s cumming down your throat a second time, his legs beginning to shake from the sheer shock of it. His moans are broken, you can’t understand a single thing he’s saying to you but you know he’s saying a lot.
You pull away from him with a pop, pressing a soft kiss to his sensitive tip as he shivers under your touch. You like having the upper hand. Even if it is just for a moment.
“There you go, daddy.” You whisper, standing up and smirking at him as he tries to catch his breath.
“Say that again,” He stares at you with a hunger you’ve never seen before—from anyone—reaching his hand over to grab the back of your neck and pulling you closer to him, “Say it again. Call me that again.”
“Daddy.” You smirk and he moans, pressing his lips to yours.
“Fuck,” He whispers against your lips, holding your face in his hands and pulling you as close as he can have you, “Fuck.”
You giggle against his lips, loving the effect you have on him. It’s nice to see and feel how you make him feel, it’s oddly validating.
“Need to taste you so bad, Red,” He murmurs against your lips, desperation clear in his eyes as he searches yours for an answer, “Can I?”
“Please, yes.” You nod as he pushes you back on the bed, towering over you and reconnecting your lips within a second.
He breathes out, feeling your fingers graze his skin, tracing over the tattoos he has scattered across his arm. Your lips are back on his. He lets you take the lead, leaning into your touch and moaning into your mouth as you continue to trace his heated skin with your fingertips.
He can’t think straight. He can’t form a single, coherent thought because of your hands on his skin. The way you feel, the way you taste, the way you’re touching him.
You can’t think straight, either. It’s almost laughable—how long you’ve both wanted this. How badly you’ve both wanted to invade each other’s personal space like this. Neither of you think you can ever stop.
You grab his hand, guiding it to your chest and letting him feel you. He moans against you and pulls away for a moment to look down at you. His eyebrows are furrowed and his lips are parted as he palms your chest with his hands, quickly moving his mouth to cover yours as you begin to moan.
You feel Harry’s tongue grazing against yours, over and over again, deepening the kiss more and more until you’re practically inhaling each other. When you both finally break away for air, you can’t help but stare down at his body. So perfect. As confident as you are, you still can’t believe that you have someone who looks like Harry so desperate for you. Harry’s wondering how he got so lucky, too. He can’t believe that he’s able to see you in your entirety. What a privilege, he thinks.
His kisses trail down your neck first. He makes sure to suck on your skin just enough to mark it, teeth grazing the sensitive areas as you hum in response. He gets to your chest next, not wasting a second to wrap his lips around your nipple, reaching his hand over to play with your other one. His eyes close in bliss as he darts his tongue out to flick your nipple. You whimper. If this is how good—how quick—he is with his mouth—with his tongue—you can’t imagine how good he’ll feel with his head between your legs. You won’t have to imagine it. You’ll feel it soon enough.
You moan out his name and his eyes open, setting on yours as he moves to give your other nipple the same attention. His cheeks hollow as he sucks, his eyes still set on yours, his hands still all over you, his mouth moaning around your skin. You bite your lip so hard you feel it sting. You’re losing your fucking mind.
He moves his head up, your nipple still caught in his mouth as he continues to suck, letting it go with a pop. You gasp at the feeling, and he does it again. And again. And again.
He does it until you’re whining, until you’re bucking your hips up desperately to get some sort of friction.
“Patience, Red,” He chuckles at your desperation, beginning to kiss down your stomach, “I’ll make it worth the wait. Make you feel so fucking good. Promise.”
Your breath catches in your throat as you stare down at Harry’s face, his head finally where you want it—between your thighs. He looks down at you, admiring how you look all spread out for him. You feel vulnerable but you couldn’t care less. You’re so horny, so worked up, so wet that you need an outlet. You need to feel Harry against you.
“P—please—” You whisper, “Please, H.”
“Please what, Red?”
“Please.”
He smirks up at you, “You want my mouth?”
You can’t speak. You nod.
“Here?” He looks up at you innocently, pressing a kiss to your left thigh. You shake your head.
“How about here?” He kisses your right thigh. You shake your head again, bucking your hips up. He chuckles and holds you down by your waist, keeping his eyes on yours.
“You don’t want it?” He’s taunting you.
You groan, “N—no—fuck—”
“Where do you want me, then?” He arches a brow at you, not giving in easily, “Here?” He looks down at your centre and you nod your head frantically, practically whining for him.
“Ask me nicely.”
“H, please just—”
He cuts you off by pressing a kiss to your clit. Your eyes close. You moan at the feeling of his mouth finally coming into contact with your skin, where you need him the most.
Your eyes close and you arch your back to feel closer to him, feeling him smile against you already. He hooks one of his arms under your thigh, pulling you closer and getting better access to you.
He flattens his tongue against you, licking a stripe up your slit and back down again. He strokes the thigh you have slung over his shoulder with one of his hands, using the other to rub circles on your clit.
“F—fuck—Harry—” Your eyes roll back, “Daddy—"
He moans against you, and your back arches. You let out a high pitched moan, a sound you never thought you could make. You’ve only heard sounds like his in pornos before. You can’t believe what’s happening to you.
“Feel good?” Harry looks up at you, still rubbing circles on your clit and breathing against your skin. You nod.
“Say it,” He pulls away, staring at you, “Tell me how it feels.”
You struggle to move your mouth. Harry smirks.
“S—so—so fucking—mmmm—” Your mouth falls open in a gasp as Harry’s mouth is back on you, lapping at your skin. He slows down every few seconds, somehow knowing exactly how to drive you insane. You reach your hands down and grip onto his hair, tugging it back. He smirks and looks up at you, dipping his tongue inside you.
Your mouth opens and your eyebrows furrow, but no sound leaves you. You’ve never been so..so fucked up that you can’t even make a sound. Whatever Harry’s doing to you, he’s doing it well.
He starts fucking you with his tongue, his thumb still rubbing circles on your clit as you feel your stomach tighten.
“Fuck H, gonna cum—gonna—fuckin—”
“Make a mess of me, Red,” He murmurs against your skin, “Make a mess of my mouth.”
“Yeah?” You pant, propping yourself up on your elbows, “Ask me nicely, daddy.”
Harry’s eyes close momentarily at your words, and suddenly he’s just as insane as you, “God, please. Let me taste more of you. Please—fuck—please.”
That’s all you need. That’s all you fucking need.
You let go of Harry’s hand and reach for the back of his head, pushing his face against you as you come undone. He moans against you and you feel his tongue against every inch of you, taking whatever you’re giving him. He can’t get enough.
A string of curse words leave your lips, along with whimpers and moans and more of those high pitched sounds you’ve only heard in pornos. You collapse against the mattress and Harry continues slowly licking you as you lazily ride your high out on his face.
“That—” Your voice comes out strained, “T—thank you, H.”
He places a kiss to your clit and chuckles, towering over you kissing you. You taste yourself on his tongue and moan, reaching around his neck and pulling him closer. He holds one of his hands next to your head to hold himself up, cupping your cheek with the other as you both deepen the kiss.
“Did so good for me, baby,” He whispers against your lips, looking in your eyes, “So fucking good for me.”
He can’t wait another second, he’s too eager to taste more of you. He leans forward in an attempt to reconnect your lips, but you stop him by placing a finger to his mouth. His eyebrows furrow and he searches your eyes for some sort of indication that you want him to stop.
You never want to stop.
You lean your head forward, your finger still against his lips as you whisper.
“Fuck me, daddy,” You take your hand away, keeping your eyes locked on his, “Want you to fill me up.”
Harry falters for a moment, his eyes widening as he processes the words that just came out of your mouth. You said all the words that he never expected you to say, all at once. Only an hour ago, you were both smoking a joint and speaking about how much things have changed between you. How strange that made you both feel. And now? Now you’re..well.
Feeling a lot better.
“Yeah?” Harry swallows, trying to contain himself somehow even though he knows there’s no use, “Gonna let me stretch you out?”
You moan and arch your back, nodding.
“Words.” Harry’s voice is stern and you just want to ruin him. The way you’ve both been switching all night, the way you’ve been driving each other insane. He was made for you.
“Use me, H,” You whisper, your voice desperate and strained, “Stretch me out.”
And he does. He slowly dips his cock in, starting with the tip to let you adjust. You both screw your eyes shut and gasp at the feeling, moaning as he begins to move inside you.
“Fuck,” He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, feeling you wrap around him, “So fucking wet.”
You whimper, moving your hands down to his back and clawing at the skin, “Just for you, daddy.”
“Yeah? Just for me?” Harry groans at the feeling of your nails across his back, “Mine, yeah?”
He knows what you’re doing. You’re trying to what, claim him? He doesn’t know what’s going through your head, but he knows that you want to mark him up. You want to mark him up well. Well enough that it’d be impossible for him to forget how good you’re making him feel. How nobody could ever compare. Yeah, you’re claiming him.
“Yours.” You breathe out as he begins to move in and out of you.
“Say it again, Red.” His voice is desperate, like he needs you to repeat yourself more than anything. He starts to speed up his movements, eager to feel as much of you as possible. You feel him hit your most sensitive spot.
“Fuck—”
“Say you’re mine,” He won’t stop asking until you give him what he wants, “Go on, say it.”
“I’m—fuck—I’m yours, H.” You gasp as he grabs a hold of one of your legs, throwing it over his shoulder to fuck into you deeper. He’s being relentless. He’s ruining you.
You want him to ruin you more.
He’s sticking two of his fingers down your throat, watching you as you suck and moan around them, “Again.” He takes his fingers out from your mouth, moving them down to rub your clit.
“I’m yours,” You let out a strained moan, your mouth falling open, “Are you mine?”
Harry’s movements are even faster now. You’re impressed. So fucking impressed at how he’s carrying himself. He’s picked up the pace, he’s circling your clit, he’s holding one of your legs above his shoulder and he’s driving you fucking crazy.
He lets your leg back down, spreading your thighs apart as he slightly changes position. He’s still on top of you but at a different angle. He towers over you, not slowing down—he wouldn’t dream of it—and moving his lips to your ear.
“Been yours for months,” He murmurs against your skin, making your eyes close, “Was just—” He grunts, “—was just waiting for you to notice.”
You can’t speak. You can’t form a single word. Your fingers grip his sides, your nails digging deeper into his skin until he bleeds.
“Shit,” He buries his head into the crook of your neck, teeth grazing your skin, “Oh fucking yeah.” Every sound that leaves his mouth is better than the last. You hear every moan, every gasp, every whimper leaving his lips.
He slows down his thrusts, making them harder and rougher and deeper. Your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel him repeatedly hitting the best part of you.
“Right there—fuck—right there—!” Your voice suddenly raises and you’re practically screaming at Harry as he continues to fuck into you, his hand still circling your clit. You let out a string of moans as he moves his hand up from your cunt to your stomach, pushing down. Your eyes close at the feeling..until it stops.
You feel a hand come into contact with your jaw, grabbing it roughly and making your eyes open. You look up to see Harry staring down at you with his jaw tensed. He’s still inside you but he isn’t moving. You want him to move.
“Open,” Harry’s voice is stern as he lightly taps the side of your face, “I’m not going to tell you again.”
You nod and bite down on your lip, enjoying this side of him more than you could’ve ever imagined. He can be so caring, so good, and so fucking condescending.
You love it all. You want it all. You need it all.
He begins to move again, his own eyes closing for a split second before he catches himself and sets them back on yours. You furrow your brows, trying to control the moans leaving your lips as his thrusts grow faster and harder again. His hand drops from your face back down to your stomach, where it was before.
“See that, baby?” He applies pressure to your lower stomach, where you look to see the outline of where he’s penetrating you, “So deep.”
You whimper and you can feel tears pricking in your eyes from how fucking euphoric you feel. You never thought it was possible to feel so much at once.
Your back arches as his hips meet yours, slamming into you. Harry drops his head to your shoulder, letting himself feel everything he’s ever wanted to feel.
“Cum with me, Red. Cum all over my cock,” He groans, his lips brushing against your skin, “I belong to you.”
You smile, digging your nails deeper into his back, “You belong to me.”
Harry’s voice is something between a mumble and a moan at this point, an endless stream of curse words falling from his lips as he feels you clenching around him.
You both cum at the same time, moaning so loudly that neither of you would be surprised if you woke up without voices tomorrow morning or with a noise complaint from your neighbours. Or both.
He practically collapses on top of you, shifting to the side and falling on his back. You both pant, trying to catch your breath as you stare up at the plain beige ceiling above your heads.
“That was..” You trail off, struggling to find words as your chest heaves.
“Yeah.” Harry’s in the same boat, knowing exactly what you mean.
“Friends do that?”
Harry laughs. He really laughs. Like he hasn’t laughed in years. Claps his hands together, covers his mouth even though there’s no use. You laugh with him.
After a few minutes, Harry moves to stand up from the bed. You smile at yourself when you notice that he’s walking over to your side of the bed. The view isn’t bad either.
He holds his hand out to you and you grab it, standing up with his help. You both smile at each other and share a quick, soft kiss before making your way to the bathroom. Harry gets the shower ready and you both step under the water, closing your eyes and holding each other close for a few moments.
“I belong to you.” Harry murmurs against your hair, pressing a kiss to your head. You pull away just enough to look at him.
“I belong to you, too.” You smile. He smiles back, widely.
“We’ll see where this goes?” He asks, his dimples still on display from how wide he’s grinning. You lean forward and try to kiss him, feeling each other’s teeth from how hard you’re both smiling.
You giggle against his lips, looking up at him with adoration, “We’ll see where this goes, H.”
•••
aaand there we have it whores. i LOVED writing this one, it’s probably the most in-your-face smut i’ve written to date. hope it was worth the wait <3
lmk what you think. if you liked it please reblog and comment, i love seeing y’all interact w my stuff <3
my suggestions are open. if you have any ideas for shots or even fics, multiple part stories, one shots, blurbs, lmk. you never know, i might write ab your idea next.
as always, stay safe n be kind to yourselves. i’ll see you sooner than you think.
- k
#smut#one shot#harry styles#harry styles smut#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#harry styles x reader#harry styles x oc#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles one shot#one direction smut#friends to lovers smut#smut pt.2#friends right? pt.2#harry styles x y/n one shot#harry styles x you one shot#harry styles x reader one shot#harry styles x y/n smut#harry styles x reader smut#kilistina#kilistina <3
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Do you do ABO fics?
I Just Want What’s Mine*
warnings: smut, dirty talk, thigh riding, degradation, exhibitionism, abo dynamics, unprotected sex, oral(m receiving)
masterist | harry styles masterlist
a/n: i do, yes. and i thought i added this to my masterlist but it’s been sitting in my google docs since i remade my acc LOL
~
YN lets out a pained cough as she breathes in the hot, sticky atmosphere of the crowded living room that her and her boyfriend have just entered. The smell of weed and alcohol hits the back of her throat with the first inhale the second her foot crosses the threshold. She can feel her boyfriend’s warm hand on her waist as he keeps her close to him, guiding the two of them through the disarray of bodies that fill the decently sized room. Looking around, YN can see all heads turn to eye them for a split second before flitting away, whispering to the people around them. Soon enough, the house is quiet save for the sound of “Young Folks” by Peter Bjorn and John.
A slight grimace decorates her face, and a dimpled smile adorns his as they get deeper into the house. Harry’s used to this atmosphere, and YN is the exact opposite. She never went to parties unless it was for family, and the only time she drank is when she was alone or with just her and Harry. The pair makes their way over to the couch that is overflowing with bodies, some people on the cushions and others resting on the back. With one look at Harry, they get the message loud and clear just from the look in his eyes. Instantly, group dissipates to give the couple room to sit comfortably. YN is both equally impressed and scared, wondering what Harry did to gain the kind of reputation he has with his pack members. With just a single look, Harry managed to assert his dominance, no words spoken.
Harry gives all of them one last intense stare before he turns to YN and gives her a bright, dimpled smile, motioning to the now empty couch for her to take a seat. She smiles in thanks and sits down, placing her handbag on her lap as he sits as well, throwing his arm onto the back of the couch, resting behind her head. The two sit there for a while as various people come by and say hello, introducing themselves to YN and greeting their pack leader, making sure they don’t get to close to his lover. Harry doesn’t take his eyes off of any of them, watching each individual like a hawk. A deep growl is bubbling in his chest when Jacob, one of the inferior alphas in the pack, gets a bit too close to her, a threatening glint in his eyes as he broadens his shoulders and prepares to attack. Luckily, the man steps away in fear, and YN takes the opportunity to rub at Harry’s hand, calming him down.
The defensive man finally relaxes into the couch at her touch, a soft sigh leaving his lips. They sit and relax there for a while, watching the party happen and having their own little conversations. About ten minutes in, one of Harry’s men ends up bringing them two red solo cups filled with clear alcohol, and Harry makes sure to check it for anything out of the ordinary despite his trust for the other man. When he smells nothing but alcohol in their cups, he passes one to YN for her to sip on as they continue to talk. Sometime when they were talking, Harry had placed his free, ringed hand on YN’s thigh without her noticing, and it was gradually going further and further under her skirt throughout the conversation. YN only notices his intent when he reaches her inner thigh, very close to her vagina. She relaxes into the couch as she realizes that Harry is falling right into her trap. When his hand finally grazes the place where her thighs meet, he realizes that there is no barrier between his hand and her skin.
“Where the fuck are your panties?” he grits out, leaning over to speak directly into her ear, eyes darting up to her face. He immediately takes in the smug smile on her face, realizing this was her plan all along. “Oh, I see,” he hums. “You wanted to get punished tonight, hm?” he whispers against the shell of her ear before biting down gently, continuing. “I don’t think you’d like my punishments tonight, though,” he muses, satisfied with the way her body tenses up at the plural term. The party is awfully quiet, each wolf straining their ears to hear what the couple is speaking about. Some faces are red, eyes on their shoes, while others are listening shamelessly, stopping their actions to hear.
“Do you know who you’re fucking with? Or should I remind you? Think m’gonna. Right here in front of everyone,” he spits, trailing his right hand up her thigh once more. A smirk forms on his face as he sees her right hand that is holding her beverage start to shake slightly, nerves entering her body at his words. “Spread y’legs a bit” he murmurs, and she does so immediately, giving him access to her wet center.
His fingers instantly take purchase on her throbbing clit, a small mewl leaving her parted lips as he rubs directly over the head. Warm Wetness is dripping from her vagina and into her skirt, her hips bucking up into his hand. The second he picks up speed, she moans under her breath, the feeling making her entire body tingle. He keeps his fingers on her clit, not stopping his ministrations as her orgasm builds rather quickly. Just as she gets close to the edge, her legs shaking slightly around his hand, he pulls his fingers away and laughs darkly as he hears her cry out in frustration before turning and burying her face into his shoulder.
The two of them know that every single person in the room can smell her arousal, can hear her sounds of pleasure, but are trying their hardest to ignore it. They all know that if they even look at YN the wrong way, Harry won’t hesitate to end their lives. The rest of the partygoers continue dancing to the music awkwardly, talking and drinking as they try their hardest to ignore the situation happening in the dead center of the party. Tears of frustration are welling in her eyes, her orgasm quickly fading away. Harry, not being able to let her be, decides to tease her a bit.
“Need me to fuck you, hm? Just say the word and I’ll end this party right now so I can fuck you real good. How does that sound, Puppy?” he asks, stroking up and down her thigh with his wet hand. Despite the fact that it isn’t his home, he obviously has the power to end it just for her, and that has her cunt clenching around nothing as she nods furiously into his shoulder.
“Yeah?” he coos, a condescending undertone to his words. YN nods again, this time with a whimper, making him smile in victory. “That’s cute and all, but I need your words, baby,” he warns, a thick whine bubbling in her throat when he doesn’t immediately give in.
She pulls away for just a moment to speak into his ear, her voice desperate and breathy. “Please, Alpha. Need it so bad,” she whines, burying her face into his shoulder once more. He chuckles at her desperation, his cock leaking even more at the compelling smell of her thick arousal in the air. It makes the small room feel even more compact, and he’s instantly growling out his command for everyone to leave, every single alpha, beta, and omega leaving the house in a hurry, wanting their lives to be spared.
Once the room is empty save for the two of them, Harry lifts her skirt and pulls her over to straddle his thigh, pressing her bare cunt against the thick muscle. She gasps as she feels the rough material of his pants against her clit. He barely gives her time to adjust before he’s placing both hands on her hips, helping to move her sopping cunt along his thigh. She nearly falls over at the feeling in her sensitive clit, a broken moan leaving her lips.
“Feel good, baby?” he coos, YN nodding quickly as he works her along the thick muscle. “Look at that. Y’just soaking my pants, sweet girl. ” he teases, and she doesn’t even have the energy to make a rebuttal, letting him help her cum. Moans are leaving her lips as another orgasm builds, and she can only let it happen, hoping he’ll let her cum this time.
“Gonna cum,” she whispers, her breath catching in her throat as he cunt literally quivers against his thigh, and he’s immediately holding her onto him firmly, stopping her movements. She’s instantly tearing up again, falling into his chest and babbling wordlessly as her orgasm fades away once more. Harry removes a hand from her hip and places it onto her back, rubbing up and down gently as he knows he’s being really mean.
“What do you need, baby?” he asks her, hearing her whine. “Use y’words, Puppy. Can’t understand what you need when you’re all dumb for me. Haven’t even given you m’cock yet and you can’t even use your words. Do I really have that effect on you?” he teases, watching her get all shy and embarrassed. “No need to be ashamed, Lovie. Just tell me what y’need, pup,” he tuts, grabbing her chin gently to coax her into making eye contact with him.
“Need you deep inside me, please. Need to feel you, for you to make me cum. I’ll be such a good girl for you I swear,” she whines, nuzzling into his grip. He hums in satisfaction, looking into her glossy eyes, sensing how bad she needs it. He needs it too, so he decides to put the both of them out of their misery.
“Alright, baby. Ass up” he says, landing one last smack on her sore ass cheek to get her going. She’s instantaneously scrambling to prop up onto the back of the couch, Harry kneels in order to slide behind her. “Ready for me?” he asks, gripping the base of his thick cock, preparing her for him.
She nods and lets out a whimper as she feels his weepy tip swipe through her swollen folds, mewling for him to get into her. He decides to end her suffering, sliding in her tight opening inch by inch, her walls stretching to accommodate him. The both of them groan out into the thick air of the room, and a slight squelching can be heard as he slides into her, bottoming out. Her eyes flutter closed as she feels every vein on his cock against her velvety walls, the slight sting of him stretching her out making her whimper.
Harry stays that way for a while, his hips flush to hers as he relishes in the feeling of her warm, wet walls around his shaft. She feels so fucking good he doesn’t know how long he’ll last before he’s exploding into her. The second he feels like he won’t explode with one thrust, he pulls out until his tip is resting at her entrance before pushing all the way back into her, sliding against her g-spot. She’s moaning into the arm of the couch, tears building in her eyes as she takes in every ounce of pleasure he’s giving her.
“How’s it feeling, Puppy?” he asks over her whines, a smile on his face when she physically can’t answer. “Is that deep enough for you? Feel me deep in y’tummy?” he coos, his cock twitching when she nods and presses her ass against his hips. “So fucking good around me, baby” he moans, still fucking her slow and deep.
He pulls out once more before slamming into her harder, a surprised yelp leaving her lips at the change. “Fuck!” she exclaims against the fabric, her hands fisting the cushions. She’s nearly ripping the cushions with her nails, gripping onto them tightly as he drills into her perfectly. Harry is literally so deep inside her, filling her to the brim as he stuffs every inch of his cock inside with each thrust. She’s so full of him she can barely breathe, gasping for air with each and every plunge. He can feel her starting to clench already, her past orgasms coming back at full speed.
“Y’gonna cum, m’love? Hm? Gonna soak m’cock before I let you rest?” he pants, rubbing up and down her back as her entire body locks up, her orgasm moments away. She nods into the cushions once more, biting down on the fabric as she holds back until she has permission. “Okay, Puppy. Cum for me, cum for your alpha like a good little pup” he coos, and no more than five seconds later, she’s cumming all over his cock with a shout, a thick layer of cream covering the base of him.
He doesn’t stop fucking her, riding out her orgasm. With each thrust, he feels more and more of her cream coat him, leaving his lower belly sticky with her orgasm. He fucks her until her body goes limp against the couch before pulling out slowly and making his way around to where her head is, her body twitching with the aftershocks. He rubs a hand over her head, watching her relax into it.
“Can you go again or should I just clean y’up?” he rasps, despite his throbbing cock still needing stimulation. She says nothing, propping herself up and leaning forward to take his cock into her mouth, suckling on the red, weepy head of it. A groan is bubbling from deep in his chest and he’s trying to refrain from bucking into her mouth. He’s instantly sent over the edge when YN takes all of him into her mouth and down into her throat, his head thrown back and his mouth dropped open in a silent scream. She sucks him dry, cleaning every last drop of cum from his cock as his legs shake in overstimulation.
Whining, he pulls away from her and makes eye contact. “You didn’t have to do that, baby” he pants. “Was just gonna clean you up” he says, rubbing over her head gently. She just shakes her head, a yawn leaving her lips.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, I know. Just get over here and cuddle me. M’tired,” she whispers, reaching up to pull him toward her. He chuckles at his perfect girlfriend, lying down on the couch before flattening her onto him, wrapping his arms around her. The two fall asleep within a few minutes, right there in the center of the room.
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