#i dont mind it dont get me wrong. but it always takes ten times longer than expected one because i never think it through
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Anytime I'm like 'oh I'll do this cute little thing for my siblings 😊' forgetting that I have a million siblings so it's no longer a quick cute lil thing, its a task™
#Demon Spawn#i dont mind it dont get me wrong. but it always takes ten times longer than expected one because i never think it through#and two because i have nearly a dozen siblings!!#making lil easter treat bags for my sibling because im missing easter and one they dont really make multibags divisible by the number i nee#two thats a lot of bags and subsequently a lot of treats to buy because a multibag doesnt go far see point one#and three my sister cant have dairy and everyones got specific tastes so thats a lot of personal tailoring to keep in mind
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strange human feelings ~ castiel;supernatural
word count: 2578
request?: yes!
@dont-mind-me-bruh1 “hey! i was wondering if you could make a story of cass getting jealous of dean because he knows dean as know y/n longer then him and cass and y/n finds out and shows cass that he is the only one for her by letting him do what ever he wants with her. if that’s ok it could be a smut or it could be a romantic gesture but if it was smut could you make it a little kinky i know it’s a lot to ask but take it into consideration please.”
description: in which the angel starts to feel human emotions, the main one being jealousy
pairing: castiel x female!reader
warnings: swearing
masterlist (one, two)
One would think that all of Castiel’s time spent with the Winchester brothers on Earth would’ve led to some form of learning about humans and their nature, but one thinking that would be very wrong. There was a lot of things about humans that still confused Castiel. Currently, his biggest confusion was human emotions. Namely, the fact that he was starting to feel human emotions for one of the Winchester’s friends, (Y/N).
He met her when Dean was wounded after a particularly hard battle. Sam had told Castiel that a friend of his and Dean’s lived in the area and he wanted to bring Dean there so she could help to treat the wounds from the supernatural being the three had been fighting. She was a hunter once, Sam had said, she knew how to deal with this type of stuff.
When she answered the door, Castiel felt a warming feeling inside of him. He didn’t understand what it was, but he was too concerned about Dean to really think about it. Once Dean had been healed and they were taking some time to rest after the fight, Castiel realized that the feeling was still there. Every time he was in (Y/N)’s presence the feeling would grow stronger. At first, he thought (Y/N) wasn’t who the guys thought she was. That maybe she was some mythical being pretending to be human to get close to the infamous hunters.
Sam, noticing that something was off with Castiel, asked, “What’s up?”
“I feel...off,” he responed.
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Off? Off how?”
“I don’t know. I feel this warming sensation in my chest.”
“Does it hurt?”
“No, of course not. I don’t feel pain, Sam. It’s just...it’s warm. Whenever (Y/N) is in the room I feel it.” He looked to make sure (Y/N) wasn’t within earshot before leaning forward to Sam and whispering, “I think there’s something about her making this happen.”
Sam had a knowing smile on his face. “Oh, buddy, you don’t know how right you are to think that.”
Castiel took this to mean something bad, until the next day when Sam told a recovered Dean, and Dean let out a whooping laugh at the poor angel’s expense.
“How sweet. Our angel is in love, Sammy,” Dean said.
Being in any sort of romantic relationship with humans was forbidden for angels. That was how archangels like Gabriel were created, and neither heaven nor the mortal world needed more Gabriels. So, despite the warm feeling being consistent in his chest whenever (Y/N) was even mentioned, Castiel could not pursue this feeling. He would not break one of the angel’s most absolute rules. No matter how beautiful (Y/N) was; no matter how much he yearned for her company when she wasn’t around; no matter how much he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her whenever she was near.
Which, she was always near, because after she helped patch Dean back up, the Winchester brothers managed to convince her to join them on their next hunt.
“I gave up that life, Dean. I’m not going back to it,” she had insisted when it was first brought up. “I have a normal life here now.”
“You never liked normal,” Dean pointed out. “One hunt, (Y/N), that’s all we’re asking. You were the best hunter I have ever known. Dad and Bobby included.”
A small smile had tugged at (Y/N)’s lips. “That’s high praise.”
When she agreed, she said it would only be the one hunt. Nothing more.
And then one hunt became two, and two became four, and four became ten. And, before any of them knew it, she was part of Team Free Will. With her joining the team, Castiel came to learn a new human emotion: jealousy.
It started when (Y/N) and Deana returned to the bunker one night. They were both clearly intoxicated, giggling and staggering down the stairs. Castiel was the only one there, so their appearance surprised him a bit.
“Where are you two coming from?” he asked.
“We decided to go out for a couple drinks,” (Y/N) responded. “Talked about the good old days before being hunters was the only thing we knew.”
She looked at Dean and smiled before leaving to go to her room. The exchanged look caused a new feeling to grow, except this time it was in his stomach. It was a heavy feeling, almost like he swallowed a sizeable stone. When he looked at Dean, a feeling of distain rose within him. He wanted to zap Dean to the other side of the planet and hope he would never return. Maybe even take his soul back to Hell and leave it there.
He was shocked by the nastiness of his thoughts. Dean must’ve noticed Castiel’s mood change because he asked, “What’s wrong with you?”
Castiel shook his head. “Nothing. Uh...nothing.”
Dean didn’t believe him, but he let it go for the time being.
It wasn’t until week later that Dean finally decided to confront Castiel about it. “Okay, Cas, what’s the matter with you?”
Castiel wouldn’t look at Dean. That’s how it had been for weeks. He didn’t even want to be in the same room as Dean most of the time. It wasn’t hard for Sam, Dean, and (Y/N) to notice. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re acting like I don’t exist for weeks. I don’t know what I did, but I’m not going to apologize until you tell me.”
Castiel shook his head. “You didn’t do anything.”
“Then why are you acting like this?”
Castiel finally turned to look at Dean. Since it was just him and not him and (Y/N), the feeling in his stomach wasn’t there and there were no nasty thoughts on his mind. It concerned him even more. He was still convinced that (Y/N) was something bad and that’s why she made him feel this way.
“When you and (Y/N) are together, I get this bad feeling,” he told Dean.
Dean’s eyebrows furrowed. “What kind of bad feeling?”
“I get a heavy feeling in my stomach, and I think these bad thoughts about wanting to get rid of you.” He looked at Dean very seriously as he added, “I think she’s bad.”
Dean tried to bite back a laugh but ended up chortling anyways. “Cas, (Y/N) is not bad. What you feel is jealousy.”
“What is jealousy?”
“It’s the bad feeling you get when the person you love seems to be romantically interested in someone else. Most times, it makes you hate the other person, even if that person if your friend. But, Cas, you gotta know that (Y/N) and I are just friends.”
“You seem very friendly,” Castiel said. Even he was shocked by the venom in his tone.
Dean put a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “Cas, I assure you there is nothing between me and (Y/N). I’ve known her since we were barley legal. We’re old hunting pals who haven’t seen each other in over a decade. We’re reconnecting, we are not dating.”
Castiel sighed and sat down at the table. “But what if she wants to date you? You’ve known her for longer than I have. You know her in general. I haven’t even been able to get to know her and she’s been travelling with us for months. What if she doesn’t want to be with me?”
“What if you asked her yourself?”
Both men turned to see (Y/N) stood in the doorway, her arms crossed and a not so happy look on her face. Castiel jumped to his feet, although he wasn’t sure what to say to her.
She started approaching the two as she continued to talk, “What if you both stop putting words in my mouth and ask me what it is I want?”
“Well...what do you want?” Castiel asked her.
She turned to him and, once again, he felt breathless. He always thought the saying was arbitrary considering angels took the form of normal human beings, but (Y/N) truly had the face of an angel.
“I want you, Cas.”
He was almost convinced that he had imagined her saying that.
“But I want you to be the one to ask me. I want you to ask me, to take me out on a date. I want you to get to know me, and I want to get to know you. She turned to Dean to add, “Next time you find out someone has feelings for me, tell me so we can avoid this whole awkwardness. Idjits.”
And then she walked away, leaving both men shocked and speechless.
~~~~~~
A few days later, (Y/N) found a note saying for her to meet the sender in a nearby park. She followed the directions and found a picnic waiting for her. Castiel was stood next to it, fidgeting with nervousness.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hello,” he responded. “Um...sit?”
(Y/N) chuckled and sat on the blanket. Castiel sat across from her and passed her a paper plate to put her food on. As he started to unwrap what he had brought for their romantic picnic date, familiar smells rose into the air. (Y/N) breathed in deeply, a small smile forming on her face.
“How’d you know all my favorite foods?” she asked.
“I asked Sam and Dean,” he said. “I wanted to get as much of your favorite things as I could, so I got them to tell me all the food you like, what you like most to drink, your favorite alcohol.” He gestured to the bottle of wine he had placed in a bucket with ice to keep it cold. “Although they told me it’s illegal to drink in public.”
“Only if we get caught. And it’s pretty dead here. Although, I will say, I’m shocked that you were okay with Dean talking about me at all. You didn’t smite him with the power of God or whatever, did you?”
Castiel grimaced at her sarcasm. “(Y/N), I’m really sorry for that.”
She took a bite of some food and took a long while to chew it. In all honesty, she was kind of flattered that Castiel liked her so much he felt so jealous over her friendship with Dean. Of course, there never was and never would be anything romantic between (Y/N) and either of the Winchester brothers, but Castiel must’ve missed that memo.
“I’m less offended by the fact that you didn’t talk to me about my feelings and more so offended by the fact that you thought I could ever like Dean,” she said instead. “I mean, come on, I can do much better than that.”
Castiel shrugged. “Dean is a nice person. You’ve known him for a long time, you get along really well. I don’t know why you wouldn’t like him.”
“That’s not how romantic feelings happen, Cas. You could know someone your entire life and never once feel a single romantic feeling towards them, and then you could know someone for just a few months and feel like you’re on top of the world every time that person looks at you. Time means nothing in these situations.”
That’s how Castiel felt for (Y/N). He felt like he was flying high every time she was around; like they were the only two people in the world. Sometimes he wished they were so that it would be easier to be around her and not act like an idiot.
He decided to veer away from the topic and get to the actual point of the picnic. “Tell me about yourself.”
A small smile tugged at the corners of (Y/N)’s lips. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
She chuckled. “Everything is a long story.”
“I have infinite amount of time.”
He makes me feel like a teenager again, (Y/N) thought to herself.
“Okay, well the basics are pretty simple: only child to a loving couple of high school sweethearts. When I was five they both died in a car accident, I was taken in by my Aunt Frances and my Uncle Harry who were both hunters. They kind of scarred me with horror stories before bedtime instead of fairytales, but I guess that’s what I needed since all of that shit is real. They didn’t want me to become a hunter, but when I was 10 years old we were attacked in our home by a spirit and they realized I needed to know how to defend myself. Ever since then, I was a hunter.”
“Not when I met you,” Castiel pointed out. “When Dean asked you to join us, you said you were trying to have a normal life. You said you were done with hunting.”
She was impressed that he remembered. “Trying is the keyword. The thing is, there’s no such thing as ‘normal’ once you’ve been introduced to the supernatural. Once you know those things exist, and, in turn, those things know you exist, there’s no getting away from them. I knew that, which was why I did take Dean up on his offer to join you guys. Because I know, no matter what, I will never have a normal life ever again. This is what I’ll always be.”
She smiled to herself. “There’ll definitely be no normal if I start dating an angel.”
Castiel didn’t seem to understand, which wasn’t abnormal at this point. (Y/N) rolled her eyes and threw a piece of food at Castiel. “It was a joke, Cas.”
“But it’s the truth,” he said. “It won’t be normal to be in a relationship with me. I mean...technically, it’s against angel code for us to be together at all.”
(Y/N) tilted her head. “Then why are we here, Cas?”
“Because...” He trailed off. He was looking down at his lap, trying to find the words, but when he looked up at (Y/N) again, everything he wanted to say came out so flawlessly. “Because sometimes, you meet someone who is worth breaking the rules for. And you’re definitely worth breaking the rules for.”
(Y/N) felt her heart racing and a warming sensation running through her body. Before she could think of what she was doing, she leaned forward and kissed Castiel. It was a quick, almost hesitant kiss since she wasn’t sure what his reaction to it would be.
“Was that okay?” she asked. She almost felt embarrassed to ask. Now she really felt like a teenager again.
In response, Castiel leaned forward to kiss her again. This time, it was more certain. This was what both of them wanted. They wanted to be with one another, no matter what the so called “angel rules” were.
(Y/N) pulled away first, resting her forehead against Castiel’s. Her smile was so wide that her cheeks were hurting a little bit. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“I’d like to do that more often,” Castiel said.
(Y/N) giggled. “You can kiss me all you want back at the bunker. Wherever you want, too. And I’ll kiss you wherever you want me to kiss you.”
Now this was a proposition that Castiel understood.
Within a matter of seconds, they had packed up the picnic and were heading back towards the bunker, giddy with excitement for what was to come.
#castiel#castiel imagine#castiel x reader#misha collins#misha collins imagine#misha collins x reader#supernatural#supernatural imagine#imagine#one shot#request#fanfiction#fanfic#fandom
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i was raised in a cult and i’ve known it for four years but tonight i can’t sleep because it’s hitting me so hard right now and i don’t know why tonight and after so long. like logically i know that it’s a cult and i’ve know for ages, subconsciously longer than before i properly realized it… so why am i having a panic attack over it now? they fit nearly every single item on the BITE model and the leader is a “king” that is supposed to be a direct descendant of the Buddha and they make you pay to take courses to achieve enlightenment and reward you with shiny buttons and giving you a new “spiritual name” and also the king sexually assaulted his students because if you pay enough money and rank up enough you get to have him as your personal “guru” and my mum was one step away from taking him on as her guru before all of the allegations came out. i dont like my mum but i still feel bad for her and it’s really scary and i was brought up to tell everyone about the cult and bring my friends to our meetings and give them books about it and i am always so scared that i accidentally made someone join and what if they got hurt???? and more than anything i just want to make a video or a post or anything telling people about this cult but i can’t because so much of my support circle and friends and my favourite people are in it and i’m too sick right now if i speak up i’d lose them and i’m physically medically emotionally reliant on them. i’m scared to put the name of the cult in this post incase that’s not allowed because you said not to put names of abusers (which makes sense it’s ok) but please if anyone reading this is in a buddhist group that’s making you pay to learn about meditation that is NOT buddhism!!!!!!! they do NOT need your money the “king” is being payed tens of thousands of dollars a year and he wont even talk about that he abused people!!!!!!!! sorry this was really long i just feel like i’m suffocating because i can’t talk about it and i can’t sleep and it’s just… of course i also had to be born into a cult. i can’t just have a rare incurable illness and abusive parents who wanted me to die and terrible doctors who made my disease worse… i also had to be raised in a cult that told me my illness was my fault because of karma from my past life. and at one point my mum wanted to pray for me but she couldn’t because she hadn’t payed to take the class yet that gave her permission to say the healing prayer. not that i believe it would have helped but seeing my mum cry because she thought she couldn’t say words out loud that she already knew was so heartbreaking and i didn’t even realize it at the time!!!!!!!!!!!!!! fukcfuckfuck
- 🍀
also sorry i lost the last message i sent in and then life got really blurry for a bit but i hope ur ok
Hi 🍀,
To directly answer your question "why am i having a panic attack over it now?" in my mind it would make sense that, you know, progress isn't linear and so you can have moments like this where it all washes over you and you are reminded of how disturbing that was. I can definitely relate to that with my cptsd.
To also address "what if they got hurt?" I'm assuming you were a child while this was happening, but cults are built to deceive their followers in some exploitative way, and so I just think like, when you're under the spell of a cult so to say, is it really your fault or is it really the cult's fault? Or maybe it's a bit of both? Personally I feel like people who perpetuate a cult's message is maybe not without any kind of responsibility, but I feel like people should be mostly blaming the cult, you know? I think especially as a child it's even more excusable because you shouldn't be expected to know right from wrong necessarily (your brain is still developing and all that).
Also when I read "a cult that told me my illness was my fault because of karma from my past life" I was just like. the audacity of this fucking cult... that's such a fucked up thing to say. I guess it's not surprising that a cult would say some bullshit like that. On top of that, what you said about your mom and how "she thought she couldn’t say words out loud that she already knew" I agree that's really heartbreaking and I think it really highlights how cults operate.
I hope I could help and I hope you've been doing alright. Feel free to comment on this if you'd like, and otherwise know I'll be here.
I'm okay and thanks for asking.
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𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 – 𝐤𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮 (𝟐)
— pairing: Kyoutani Kentarou x female Reader
— genre: smut, angst, little bit of fluff to keep the balance; tattoo artist!kyoutani, inexperienced!reader, strangers to lovers!AU, SLOW BURN
— word count: 9.6k
— warnings: swearing, mentions of infidelity and violence, as well as the consumption of drugs and alcohol; smut: corruption kink, degradation and dumbification, dacryphilia, praising, spitting, (soft) dom!kyou, oral (m. receiving), fingering, dry humping, unprotected sex (dont do that kids), impreg kink, iwaoi say hi-
— (A/N: and here’s part two! thank you SO much for all the love you sent my way after i published the first part. ngl i was a little nervous bc i thought it was boring and not interesting at all but you guys easily pushed me out of that hole so thank you for everything. i love and appreciate you with my whole heart. all the love, zade xx)
[ part one ]
— summary: after fucking up, you make it your mission to get him back..(im so bad at this pls just- okay.)
"He's not picking up, Hana", you say, another soft cry falling from your lips before you bury your face in your pillow.
“Once in my fucking life a guy treats me good and the way I've always wanted to be treated and I had to fuck it up. Why the fuck am I like this, Hana? Why can I not enjoy one fucking good thing in my fucking mediocre life", the profanities keep coming just like the tears and the amount of frustration and anger rushing through your veins is nowhere near normal anymore.
"Calm down, love", Hana sighs and makes you sit up so she can look into your tear stained face as she tries her best to make sure her words actually find their way to your pain clouded mind, "at this point you shouldn't worry too much because you do know Kyoutani, don't you? He does lose his temper a lot, so give him the time he needs and then you'll show up at his doorstep, suck his cock and make up with him, yeah?", she explains calmly.
"If this hurts you so much, why the fuck did you even say he's just a friend, Y/N? I really don't understand", Hana mumbles and lets out another sigh, her hands caressing yours softly, managing to calm you down a little bit.
“You're right, I should just– give him some time and things will eventually fall into place", you reply after crying a little more and with an encouraging smile your best friend nods at you before she suggests a movie marathon to which you happily agree.
At least something to distract you from all the demons inside your head.
After changing into your pj's and doing your night time routine, you plop down onto the couch next to your bestie again, her eyes focused on the phone in her hand and knowing she's probably either sexting or inviting her new boyfriend has you shrugging at her lack of attention as you start looking for a good movie to begin the night with.
However, just when you're about to read the description of some kind of french rom-com, Hana puts her phone back into her lap and starts staring at you with her pretty eyes widened in shock.
"What's wrong?", you ask and turn to look at her, reaching for her hands but before you even get the chance to touch her, Hana unlocks her phone and holds it up for you to watch someone's instagram story.
The video begins with loud music, a crowd full of young college students whose faces definitely are familiar.
Everyone in the video is dancing, making out, smoking and just chatting in a random living room and every now and then there's someone yelling in the back – a typical college party.
However, just as the video is about to end, the camera shifts to a tall male leaning against the wall, obviously standing really close to the person who's filming and it takes you a full blown thirty seconds to realize who said male is.
Kyoutani Kentarou.
You stare at the phone for another minute, your throat dry and your head empty as a thick veil of tears slowly starts blurring your sight before you finally decide to pay attention to the username.
"He can't be fucking serious", you hiss, fisting the blanket beneath you, the urge to punch something or someone becoming unbearable, "what the fuck is he doing at a random college party with – Sora?"
"Y/N, don't–", "Whose party is that?", you interrupt your best friend, not giving a single fuck about her attempts to calm you down; not anymore. Hana gulps harshly and strictly avoids your gaze as she mumbles a name and you roll your eyes, asking her to speak up with an annoyed sigh.
"It's one of Yuuji’s frat parties", and as soon as your best friend says the name of your ex-boyfriend, a cold shiver of disgust runs down your spine and you can feel yourself getting lightheaded from all the emotions rushing through your overwhelmed body.
"Don't follow me if you're going to stop me from leaving, Hana", you say and stand up before quickly disappearing inside your room.
You have no idea how you manage to get dressed, your outfit consisting of a pair of jeans and a hoodie you can't even remember buying and you don't even wanna think about what your hair and face look like when you end up leaving the house with your keys and your phone.
After driving this route for over two years on an almost daily basis, it takes you less than ten minutes to arrive in front of the huge house your ex-boyfriend lives in.
The memories start finding their way back into your head way too fast, taking away your breath and numbing your whole body because even if you didn’t love Yuuji anymore, the bitter feeling of betrayal still manages to hit you in just the right way.
It takes you a lot of willpower to actually approach the house and eventually get in. And after being in between the crowds of drunk, stinky college students, you remember why you hate college parties so much.
"I – Wow”, a familiar voice manages to break through the loud music, your instant reaction just an annoyed eye roll, “you were the last person I expected to see at one of our frat parties", Yuuji says and comes to stand in front of you.
His blonde hair messily falling into his handsome face and from the way his whole face seems to be covered in the deepest shade of red – including his eyes – you know that he's probably higher than the stars and you can't help but sigh.
"I'm not here to party, Yuuji", you hiss, feeling the anger crawl up your spine again the longer you look at your ex, "my boyfriend is here and I have to talk to him."
"So you and that tattooed guy are actually a thing? Didn't think so since he, you know – showed up with another girl", Terushima mumbles and pulls out a cigarette from his pocket, a mischievous smile on his lips.
"Oh, shut the fuck up, Yuuji", you spit back and roll your eyes, taking in the way the pretty boy arches his brows up in pure shock at your rather new attitude, "go and get high or whatever you do to feel proud of yourself", are the last words you say to him before you walk away, your heart thrumming inside your throat.
Your eyes roam the huge crowd, desperately searching for the only face you wanna look at right now and you try to remember where they were standing in the video Sora had posted only to realize that you can't remember.
After all you only watched the video once, your whole attention laying on Kyoutani. And after almost fifteen minutes, you find yourself slowly giving up.
Maybe this was just not meant to happen or maybe Kyoutani has left already.
He probably left with Sora- something you can’t and won’t ever blame him for.
After all she's literally one of the prettiest and hottest girls you have ever seen – anyone who rejects her would be out of their mind (or not attracted to girls which isn't the case when it comes to Kyoutani).
You give it another ten minutes of desperately looking around before you let out a deep sigh which gets lost in the loudness and thick air of the party before you finally start making your way back to the front door.
You quickly walk back to your car, trying your best to ignore everyone around you, especially all the drunk guys who are currently about to get into a verbal fight over something totally random and the last thing you want to experience those threats becoming reality.
At some point you're scared they might even include you which is probably why you end up literally sprinting and even though you always park so far away from frat houses just because you've heard way too many stories of people getting their cars stolen during parties, but right now you just wished you would have listened to your gut feeling and parked in front of the fraternity like every normal person.
However, to your life long luck, you spot a tall figure standing a little too close to your vehicle just as you’re about to unlock it. You slow down your movements almost instantly upon seeing the stranger, yet your eyes still try to figure out if it's someone you know despite the darkness surrounding the two of you.
He has probably spotted you by now, after all you're still panting like crazy from speed walking down to where your car is and it takes you a full minute to realize how loud you're actually being.
"Y/N", the male suddenly says, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine and even though it could have been everyone, it sounds a tad bit too familiar to your ears which is probably why you end up approaching him slowly.
"It's me, Kyoutani", he adds and at the same moment the words leave his lips, you finally recognize his pretty features which seem extra beautiful underneath the bright moonlight.
And then realization hits you.
"How did you know–", "Hana called me and asked if I could make sure you got home even if I didn't want to talk to you. So, here I am. Get in the car so I can tell her I did my part of the job", he interrupts you quickly, obviously not having the intention to interact with you and the way his usually so tender-filled eyes and calming voice are nothing but ice-cold has a thick veil of tears blurring your sight.
Never ever did you think about the moment, where Kyoutani puts the cold mask on he loved to hide behind when he had first looked at you all those weeks ago.
And the longer he avoids your gaze, the heavier the burden on your chest becomes.
"I'm sorry, Tani", you whisper, your voice breaking at the end, easily giving away how much his cold demeanor has gotten to you.
“Of course you're not just a friend to me and I d-don't know why I introduced you like that, everything happened so quickly and I – panicked. It's not an excuse and does not justify my behavior but I just wanted you to know that you've always been more than just a friend to me", you continue, managing to keep talking upon realizing that Kyoutani won't interrupt you and the way he even listens to you with his eyes looking everywhere but yours is absolutely enough for you.
"What am I to you then, Y/N? Am I the guy you're casually fucking? Your booty call? Am I your second choice? Like what the fuck do you expect me to say? I know we never put a label to – this", he starts pointing at you and then himself, "but you knew I was serious about it, about you. So, I just don't understand why you would even think about considering me a friend. I told you that I am not one for that friends with benefits kinda shit and you agreed yet you did this and now I can't help but be convinced you just used me to get that Yuuji fucker.”
Kyoutani is angry and he doesn't even try to hide it as he spits out those words, the ones he’s probably been dying to say out loud for the past few days and you know he has every right to actually be mad at you, his words still hit you in a way you didn't expect them to.
"I'd never do that to you, Kentarou; I'd never use you like that, please believe me", you say quickly, a little surprised you're even able to form proper sentences.
“You m-mean so much to me and I just don't know how to put it into words. My heart hurt so much when I watched you type your number into Sora's phone but the demons in my head, they just kept talking over my heart and – I'm just really sorry, Kyou, I really am", you sigh and after realizing that he's not going to look at you, you finally manage to shift your gaze away from his pretty face.
"Go home, Y/N. It's been a long day for both of us and I think some more distance will help me get my mind straight", Kyoutani replies after a long, torturous beat of silence lingering in the cold air and even if it wasn’t the reply you had hoped to hear, you're glad he's at least not completely ending it.
"Okay b-but at least let me drive you home?", you ask softly, wiping away the few tears which had managed to escape and when you look up at the beautiful faced male in front of you, his eyes meet you for the first time since what feels like forever and you feel yourself melting away.
"I don't think that's a good idea, pretty girl", Kyoutani sighs, the soft pet name sending your mind into the sweetest haze of comfort just like that, "it's only been a few days but I am craving your touch and I just know I'm going to lose it and fuck you against the next best surface if we get into that car together, so I have to decline this offer", he adds and takes another step back, his lips stretching into a tiny smile and you can’t deny how much his words have you gotten you worked up, but you have no choice but to nod.
"Have a good night, baby", Kyoutani sighs and deep down you're hoping for a kiss, after all it's been way too long since you got to feel close to him but instead, he just lifts his hand up and starts waving at you and just as he is about to turn around, you find yourself reaching for his wrist. The fear and despair inside of you making you a little too brave for your personal liking but you know you can't just let him walk away like that.
"Please, Tani- Kyoutani", you whisper and let out a soft sigh of relief when he turns around to face you again, "I won't try anything, I just want to spend a little bit more time with you."
Kyoutani takes a deep breath, his dark eyes roaming your face and wandering down your body and even though it feels like he's literally devouring you alive, you enjoy his burning gazes regardless, a hidden part inside of you even craving them.
A solid minute passes by before he lets out a sigh and gives you a nod, his plump lips pressed into a thin line.
It takes you another deep breath and a couple of seconds to actually calm yourself down from the rollercoaster of emotions you've been through within the time span of an hour and as you sit there in your car, inhaling the cold air of the night, your mind starts replaying everything that went down, starting from the day you met Kyoutani, to your first and most recent kiss, as well as the encounter with Sora and your deep anger towards Yuuji.
The drive to Kyoutani's apartment passes by in a blur, way too fast for your liking and you can't help but pout when you pull up in front of the huge building, knowing very well that this will be the last interaction with the handsome tattoo artist for the upcoming few days and you can already feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.
He's been awfully quiet, not like you actually said anything but Kyoutani's silence was intense, boring into your soul and actually suffocating you to a point where the urge to just jump out of the car became overwhelming.
You know he's probably going through everything just like you, yet the feeling that his thoughts are more on the negative side just won't leave you alone and you hate the way your assumptions are being confirmed as soon as Kyoutani turns to look at you.
"I – love you, Y/N", he suddenly says, his voice soft and calm, yet still deep and the way it's filled with tenderness and the sweetest bit of longing makes the effect of those magical words even heavier.
Your lips part in shock, your head having a difficult time actually processing his confession and you can feel your whole body going into a standby mode.
"But you're not good for me."
You remember the way your heart broke into thousands of pieces when you found out the alleged love of your life was cheating on you without even batting an eye.
The pain was so intense and heavy, you didn't know how to deal with it and at some point you were convinced that your heart had stopped beating for a solid minute. It was bad, left you speechless and threw you into a hole of darkness you barely managed to escape from, yet still leaving you grateful for the experience.
You thought your first heartbreak would be able to prepare you for what's to come in the future, but what you went through as soon as those words had fallen past Kyoutani’s lips, can't be compared to anything you've ever felt before.
Your heart starts clenching as his words keep replaying inside of your head and your throat so is going absolutely dry from your desperate attempts to gasp for air as the feeling of being suffocated comes back.
Everything around you seems to disappear, your eyes still focused on Kyoutani's intense gaze as the feeling of emptiness starts filling up your whole body.
You easily lose track of time, your heart beat so slow and heavy and when the wave of reality crashes you yet again, an almost inaudible sob falls past your lips.
"B-But...", you can't get yourself to speak, the words getting stuck in your throat and soft cries the only thing filling the inside of your car.
And yet, there are so many things you want to tell him, so many things rushing through your mind at the highest speed, almost impossible to grasp them and actually put them into proper sentences.
"You have too much control over me. I lost myself trying to fit into the picture of a lover you need and deserve. But – I am not who I used to be anymore”, Kyoutani explains, nervously rubbing the sides of his pierced node with his thumb as he avoids looking in your direction at all costs.
“I am scared of losing what's obviously not mine. You make me feel weak and vulnerable and I just can't deal with it. You've become the center of my world, and I can't control how much it affects me. How much you affect me and – I hate it", he continued, his voice is still incredibly calm, yet a bittersweet tone of fear coating every single one of his words.
"B-But...", yet again, the whole of your vocabulary seems vanished, not one word to say as the knot in your throat tightens even further.
"I'm sorry, Y/N. I thought I could do it but – I am not meant to love and you deserve to be loved in the most special way possible”, he takes another quick break, letting out a sigh of exhaustion, “and that's why I'm letting you go. Please, don't hate me. Take care and – goodbye, my love.”
Those are his last words before he presses his lips against your forehead, making your head spin like crazy because of the contrast of his heartbreaking words and his soft kiss.
Kyoutani leaves without saying another word. He doesn't even look back once as he walks away and enters the apartment building, while you can't stop staring at the door with hot tears streaming down your cheeks and loud sobs filling the suffocating air surrounding you.
There you are, yet again.
Your eyes staring into the dark night as your body tries to cope with the intensity of pain you've thought you had overcome.
The constant breaking of your heart starts numbing every part of your body and you slowly start losing yourself in this certain kind of darkness.
Seconds turn into minutes and without even realizing, a whole hour has gone by with you staring into nothing.
Your mind plays games with you as it keeps replaying his words, his behavior, his kiss and the feeling of slowly but certainly going insane as you get out of the car a little too fast.
You tumble back, the sudden coldness hitting you right in the face and the mental as well as physical exhaustion has your body trembling.
And then it hits you.
The wave of anger, wrath, frustration and hatred literally wakes you up, pulls you back into reality and ends up taking over you completely.
Your eyes find the huge apartment building Kyoutani lives in, staring at it as if you could set it on fire and you know what you're about to do is a bad idea but your body acts before your mind can even get the chance to intervene.
And that's how you find yourself almost brutality slamming your fist against Kyoutani's door, your heart hammering against your rib cage way too fast for it to be still physically healthy and ten thousand different thoughts rushing through your chaotic mind.
"What the fuck is going – Y/N", Kyoutani looks at you with his pretty eyes slightly widened in shock, his lips parting as he struggles to keep his eyes on you and a disgusting feeling of shame and embarrassment starts filling you up.
You know this is pathetic, you are aware of how stupid you look standing in front of him like this but you just can't get yourself to actually care about it.
"Y/N, please don't-", "No, I listened to what you had to say and now I'm going to talk and you're going to listen to me. Before that I am not going anywhere because I deserve this", you cut him off, hands balled into fists as you try to stay calm but the more you think about his words in the car, the angrier you get.
"I–", Kyoutani sighs, his eyes nervously roaming your face and upon noticing the way you seem to shiver from the cold and your lack of clothing, he lets his conscience get the best of him, "alright, come in then.”
You follow him inside, the familiar scent of vanilla and Kyoutani's favorite febreeze scent filling your nose and you hate the way how comfortable you are.
After all you've been spending quite some time in this apartment; visiting him after your classes so he could bury his face between your legs and then offer you some homemade food, followed by a good old ghibli movie and lots of cuddles has become some kind of routine.
Oh, how you hate him for ruining all of those memories.
"Do you want something to drink? You're probably freezing", he offers, his voice filled with concern and you know he is right and you'd definitely give everything for a cup of tea and maybe some water, you still shove all of your body’s basic needs into the very back of your head and try to regain your composure.
"I – you – we", you take a deep breath, your mind struggling to put all of those racing thoughts into some kind of order, yet failing miserably.
But there's so much you want to say to him; so many things you want him to hear and now that you are actually standing in front of him, your body betrays you.
"You're a fucking coward, Kyoutani Kentarou", is the first thing you finally manage to let out, "and I hate you for leaving me like this. I fucking hate you.”
Deep down, you hate yourself for saying those words; the choice of words and the incredible heaviness they come with are usually not your way of expressing yourself yet you're not regretting them.
You don't know how this night is going to end, maybe this will be the last time you get to see Kyoutani or he'll eventually fuck you into oblivion and you finally end up together; but nevertheless you want your words to hurt him; you want them to wake him up just like his did to you.
"How dare you confess your love to me and tell me I basically ruined your life in the same breath when you're the one who's fucking all of this – us up. Yes, I’ve made a mistake and I've been regretting my choice of words for the past four days, even came to the point where I accepted your distance and decided to let go because I know how much my words hurt you. But us ending like this? Definitely not going to happen", Kyoutani stares at you with his pretty eyes focusing you attentively, barely blinking, not moving at all; he’s just listening to you.
"I just – don't understand how you can be this oblivious."
"Oblivious? Oblivious to what?", he asks, his voice a little deeper and raspier, sending goosebumps straight dow your spine as if your body needed to remind you the effect he has on you.
"Oblivious to everything. This is what love does to people, Kentarou. Of course you're going to feel weak and vulnerable because of me - because of the one you love. After all the point of being loved and loving someone else is showing those vulnerabilities and weakness to the person you trust the most because you know, or at least you hope, they won't take advantage of it.”
You take a deep breath, your mind slowing down as you ease yourself into his calming embrace and subconsciously losing yourself in the comfort it comes with.
“I'm yours. I've been yours since the very first day and we both know this, that's why you are so scared of losing me. And that's why my words hurt you so much”, you can tell that he’s already processing your words as much as he can; his habit of scratching the back of his head giving him away easily.
"You said you've lost yourself trying to fit into this picture of someone who I deserve but – you are the one who created that picture in the first place. Just because my first boyfriend was an alleged goody two shoes doesn't mean that you have to be like that too. Fuck that", you hiss, the thought of Kyoutani changing even the slightest bit about himself sending jolts of anger through your veins, "I don't care if you dropped out of college or that you have tattoos and piercings and bleach blonde hair. None of that matters to me because it's you, your kind heart and your pure soul I fell in love with.”
And suddenly - you can feel the burden on your shoulders disappear when those certain words leave your lips and the second Kyoutani raises his eyebrows in slight surprise before he locks eyes with you again has another breath of fresh air run through your suffocated lungs.
"Yes, I'm in love with you, Kyoutani Kentarou. Believe it or not, but for me, you're perfect just like this, with all your tiny habits and every single tattoo. There's nothing I'd change about you and I'm genuinely, truly sorry if I ever made you feel like you needed to change for me. You're a great guy and I guess that's why I ran back here after sitting in that car, crying for an hour because I couldn't stop thinking about the way you confessed your love to me”, you feel the thick veil of tears appear before they manage to block your sight, making the pretty face in front of you turn into bourry little pixels as your emotions overwhelm you.
“And yes, you are meant to be loved; maybe not meant to be loved by me but you deserve to be loved, do you hear me?"
You go up to him, closing some of the distance between the two of you before your finger darts out and poke his strong chest, trying to ease the tension after letting go of all those thoughts, "you deserve to love and to be loved because you're a good person. And I just – wanted to thank you for letting me into your life. Meeting you, getting to know the beautiful person you are has been one of the best things that has happened to me and I will cherish these memories forever."
And with those words you take a deep breath, let out another sigh, goving away your acceptance of defeat before you lift your head and prepare yourself to say your last goodbye no matter how painful it is.
"Take care, Kyoutani Kentarou and thank you, for everything", the words fall past your lips in the form of a whisper solely because you're too scared to break if you raised your volume just slightly.
You turn around and feel the first tear find its way down your cheek before you even get to walk away.
And just as you wrap your fingers around the doorknob, the sound of rushed footsteps approaching you makes you halt your movements.
"D-Don't go", Kyoutani suddenly says, his voice breaking when he comes to stand behind you, so close you can actually feel the warmth he's radiating, "I need you...so bad", he whispers into your ear, pressing his forehead against the back of your neck and it's like everything that happened tonight becomes irrelevant.
You turn around, not expecting Kyoutani to push you against the door with his whole body, yet still embracing him as much as you can.
With a soft sob, you start inhaling his unique scent, grazing his soft skin with your fingers and letting the warmth blossom inside of your chest after feeling his rapid heartbeat beneath your palm.
"Don't leave me, please", he cries, the tears running down his flushed cheeks despite his desperate attempts of holding back, "let's do this whole love thing.”
You stand there for what feels like an eternity, just hugging each other, taking in each other's presence and calming down from everything that has happened in such a short time. You finally calm down completely, Kyoutani's soft touches and tiny kisses give you the last bit of energy you needed and for the first time in almost three months, there's not one demon in your head trying to make you overthink something.
Because this feels perfect; there's literally no other word to describe the feeling of holding Kyoutani Kentarou and being held by him.
But nevertheless, you've been on a constant adrenaline rush for the past four hours and the exhaustion has been killing you, making you grow tired a lot faster than usual.
"What about moving this to your room, hm? I'd rather fall asleep with you in your bed than against the door; especially because I know the boys are out and will be coming home soon", you say softly, lifting Kyoutani's head from the crook of your neck and looking at him.
He sighs and gives you a soft kiss, giving you a nod in response before he gets himself to let go of you; his warmth leaving with him and it's almost disgusting how you literally crave his presence.
After Kyoutani makes you drink two glasses of water to avoid the dehydration of your body, he hands you one of his thick hoodies and leaves you to get ready in his bathroom.
You come back to the sight of him sitting against the headboard of his king sized bed, his oversized shirt revealing the perfect amount of collarbones and you enjoy the sight of his pretty skin and the dark lines covering most of it as well as the way his sweats hug his strong thighs in the best way possible.
And as you watch his eyes lazily roam your body, a hot jolt of arousal finds its way through your veins and right to your cunt.
"Don't look at me like that, sweet girl", Kyoutani suddenly groans and cocks his head to the side, his tongue poking out to wet his lips before he gulps harshly; his eyes never once leaving yours.
"B-But Tani...", you reply, approaching him with tiny steps become you come to stand right next to his tall figure, feeling yourself growing needier because of the way your body is craving his touch now more than ever.
“Baby…”, he replies and gulps harshly, knowing your body better than yourself after weeks of getting to know you in a way nobody has ever before.
"Please, Tani...please, fuck me. I need to feel you inside of me. I've been waiting for so long...", you plead, your fingers coming to graze his pretty lips as memories of all the times he had turned you into a crying mess with those lips.
Kyoutani is just as affected by the change in tension as you, the slight bulge in his grey sweatpants as well as the hunger burning in his eyes giving him away.
"You're such a pretty angel girl, aren’t you?", he whispers and sits up, pulling you closer to make you stand in between his legs as he starts caressing your hot cheeks with his fingers.
“Yet you're saying all those naughty things”, Kentarou chuckles deeply, “imagine how people would react if they knew what a cockhungry little slut you actually are", upon hearing those degrading names, your cunt starts clenching around nothing and a high pitched whimper escaped your throat.
"For you...", you whisper, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth the second Kyoutani starts placing open mouthed kisses on your neck.
Your fingers dig into his shoulders, pulling the material of his shirt a little too tightly.
"Of course, baby, you're mine after all and this sweet cunt", the sudden feeling of his palm pressing against the damped fabric of your panties has you gasping for air, "belongs to me, and me only", Kyoutani grunts, pulling the skin of your neck between his lips before he starts sucking gently as well as slowly moving his fingers against the lacey fabric between your legs.
"Yes, it's yours", you reply, after several weeks of being intimate with Kyoutani you've learned one thing and that's how much he loves hearing you say all those dirty and lewd things, "please fuck me."
"Patience, my love, patience. I am going to fuck you", Kentarou replies calmly and suddenly pushes you away, his hands disappearing from your body and when your lid flutter open because of the lack of touch, he shoots you one of his cocky smirks, "but let's not forget the whole friend situation, hm? What about you make it up to me before I fuck you like the little whore you are?"
His words have excitement rush through your blood, your head literally spinning just from the thought of finally getting to be on the giving end after weeks of him playing the selfless lover.
You nod eagerly, anticipation sparkling in your eyes as you watch him palm himself over his sweats before you get on your knees and wait for him to let go of his now fully erect cock.
However, the more seconds pass by like this, the more nervous you become because for some reason you suddenly remember that you've basically never sucked dick before.
Your head shoots up with slight panic written all over your face and of course Kyoutani notices your change in demeanor right away.
"What's wrong, angel?", he asks you and stops the movements of his hands.
"I don't know how to do it, Tani", you whisper, knowing there's no point in being shy about it, after all he happens to be the guy you've experienced your most firsts with.
"It's okay, baby, I'm going to help you”, Kyoutani replies and actually loses his composure for a second, “fuck baby, don't look at me like this when I'm literally about to fuck your throat", he hisses, throwing his head back as he grunts and his hips desperately bucking into the air.
Kyoutani takes another deep breath before he finally pushes his hand underneath the waistband of his sweats and with your eyes focused on his movements, you watch him pull out his hard length, a soft hiss falling past his plump lips when the coldness of the room grazes the slightly wet tip of his cock.
You gulp harshly, his impressive size in girth as well as length has your pussy throbbing like crazy, yet you can't help but wonder how the hell he's going to fit inside of you.
“Don't worry, baby, I know you're going to take all of my cock like the good girl you are", Kyoutani says after observing your facial expressions for some time.
"Give me your hand", he asks you softly, his voice still raspy and incredibly hoarse yet still soothing and you appreciate his attempts to calm himself down so you won't feel too nervous. With your heart slamming against your rib cage, you lift your hand up and are slightly overwhelmed at the sudden feeling of Kyoutani's warm spit pooling inside your palm. Without adding anything, he straightens himself and motions you to stroke his hard cock.
Not once do you stop looking at him as you wrap your fingers around the base of his impressive length and slowly start jerking him off.
Kyoutani cocks his head to the side, his bottom lip pulled in between his teeth and his eyes constantly fluttering close.
"Start with the tip, angel- just wrap your lips around it and start sucking, but be careful with your teeth, yeah baby?", he grunts, his hips thrusting into your fist every time the pace of your strokes slows down.
You give him yet another nod before look up at him one more time and do as he says.
The feeling of his cock between your lips is – different.
It feels like it's not supposed to be there, yet the salty taste of his precum coating your tongue has you sighing softly. Your tongue darts out, giving his tip a tiny kitten lick before you go back to sucking on it eagerly.
And while you seem to enjoy it a lot, Kyoutani is going absolutely crazy. You can see the way he's tensing his body as his grip in the bed sheets tightens and the vein on his neck pops out.
"F-Fuck, baby, just like that", he praises you "now try to take more of it in a-and use your hand for the rest", Kyoutani's voice is shaky, his eyes are nervously roaming your swollen lips and the string of spit connecting them to the tip of his cock.
Without giving it another thought, you take a deep breath and take more of him, trying your best to not graze his sensitive cock with your teeth and despite your initial struggle, you still enjoy the feeling of his cock on your tongue.
You subconsciously wrap your fingers around the part of his cock which you can't fit inside your mouth and suddenly it's like your body knows exactly what to do.
Kyoutani's moans grow louder and the soft thrusts of his hips become a little less controlled. You look up at him every now and then, trying your best to keep the steady rhythm as you bop your head.
And then he suddenly thrusts his length all the way to the back of your throat, your gag reflex just about to go off when he pulls back which is the moment you take notice of the tears streaming down your cheeks.
You give him a soft smile before going back to wrapping your lips around his tip, but you don't get very far.
Kyoutani pulls you back, his grip on the back of your neck not firm enough to hurt you.
"I promise I'm going to fuck your throat properly and even cum in your mouth the next time we do this but right now I just can't stop thinking about that tight cunt of yours", he says, helping you get up and almost instantly pulling you onto his lap; his wet cock rubbing against your panty covered core as Kyoutani pulls you in for a kiss.
It's sloppy and rushed, the way his tongue grazes over yours before he pulls it between his lips and starts sucking at it. Your hips start moving against his cock, your sensitive pussy craving some kind of friction as the arousal has your head spinning like crazy.
You start moaning and whimpering into his mouth when Kyoutani’s hips start meeting your desperate movements, applying the perfect amount of pressure onto your needy clit.
You feel the knot in the pit of your stomach tightening, the clenching of your cunt becoming worse the more you hump Kyoutani's cock like a woman starved.
But nothing prepares you for the feeling of one of his large digits entering you. Your hole start clenching around his finger Kyoutani pushes another one in, both digits buried inside of your little cunt.
"Such a good girl for me, aren't you, baby? I'm going to finger you nice and slow so you're ready for my cock. Now come on, my love; show me what a good whore you are and ride my fingers", Kyoutani encourages you, his hot breath fanning against the sensitive skin behind your ear and without missing a beat, your hips meet the skillful thrusts of his fingers.
Kyoutani continues to whisper naughty things into your ear, his other hand eventually wrapping around your throat as he makes sure you look into his eyes when you stumble over the edge.
Your high hits you hard and fast, the intensity knocking the breath out of your lungs and leaving you gasping for it; something you should be used to by now yet still can't believe is even possible.
He pushes you off of his lap softly, helps you get rid of his shirt as well as your ruined panties before he makes you lay down in the middle of his bed; eyes locking with yours when he also starts undressing.
"My pretty girl", Kyoutani sighs, his hand caressing the soft skin of your thighs, spanking you every now and then just because he's absolutely obsessed with the way your whole body tenses whenever his hand meets your skin.
“Look at me", he orders and almost instantly your head shoots up to meet his gaze, the sight of his naked body distracting you a lot more than you expected but after all this is the first time you get to see the rest of his tattoos; the ones you usually only get a tiny glimpse of depending on his outfit choice.
Kyoutani spreads your legs apart, his eyes never leaving yours even when he starts jerking off again and you can't hold back the soft whimpers and begs leaving your lips.
But also something about his flushed cheeks and swollen lips as well as his messy hair falling into his face has you incredibly turned on.
"We've never talked about this before but are you on the pill, baby?", he asks, pushing one of his thumbs into his mouth before he brings it down to your clit and starts rubbing soft circles into it, making you arch your back off of the mattress as you bury your face in the pillow to keep your noises down.
"N-No", you whisper, a deep sigh coming from Kyoutani and even though you know you shouldn’t do it, you stop him from bending over to the drawer of his nightstand, making him look at you in confusion.
“But I still want you to raw me, please...", you add and gulp harshly when his whole body seems to go into some kind of haze once the words leaveyour lips.
Kyoutani looks at you, his eyes darkening even more as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and lets out a loud moan of your name.
"I can't just raw you, baby", he presses through gritted teeth, his mask slowly falling apart the more you rub yourself against his cock, "you've never had sex without a condom and my pull out game is weak, even weaker when it comes to you because fuck – the thought of filling you up with my cum sounds so fucking good", Kyou groans when you scoot up a little, taking his length into your hand before you line him up with your entrance.
"B-But what if you get pregnant, sweet girl?", he sighs and tries to pull away, making you wrap your arms around his neck as you look into his pretty eyes.
"That will just show everyone around us how well you've fucked me", you whisper and elicit another deep moan from him, his whole body shaking slightly as he tries to hold himself back from just pounding into you.
"Such a cockhungry whore", he hisses and – finally – starts pushing his fat cock into your tiny cunt, the slight stretch making you both gasp for air.
“If that's what you want, then that’s what you get, you little slut. I'm going to fucking raw you and fill you up with all of my cum, make you my cumslut", Kyoutani grunts, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth before he harshly grabs your face and looks into your eyes as he buries more of himself inside of you.
"F-Fuck, you're big", you whimper, throwing your head back and trying your very best to stop clenching around his cock.
“We're almost there, baby- you got this, s-stop clenching", Kyoutani grunts against your parted lips. Without a warning, Kyoutani pushes the rest of his huge cock inside of you, bottoming out completely.
“F-Fuck...you’re so– tight”, Kentarou grunts, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, “it’s like you’ve never been fucked before.”
“S-So good...so fucking good, nngh-”, your little whimpers and whines are slurred, barely coherent as the feeling of being filled to the brim pushes you into a haze of pleasure.
You feel the pulsation of his cock against your spongy walls, his hands nervously roaming your body and groping one of your tits, as he obviously tries to calm himself down.
And then he finally starts moving.
A deep, guttural moan leaves the both of you when he pulls himself out of your tight hole, dragging his huge cock along the walls of your little cunt in the most delicious way possible before he almost brutally shoves himself back in again.
“Mhm, just like that, you little brat”, he grunts, sitting up on his knees as he pushes your legs further apart, his eyes focusing the way his fat cock stretches your hole just how he’s been imagining it all this time, “coming up to me and talking about having your little cunt rawed like some cumhungry little whore.”
You start nodding almost instantly at his words, your brain barely recognizing them, the only thing you can focus on being the way the tip of his cock grazes the entrance to your womb with every harsh, brutal thrust of his hips.
His thrusts find a steady rhythm, hard and so, so deep.
“Open your mouth”, Kyoutani grunts, a single drop of sweat finding its way down the center of his tattooed chest, the sight making you whimper and whine for him even louder as you part your lips as soon as you process his words.
“You know what? I’d rather have you say it”, he suddenly hisses, pulling his cock out of your spasming cunt before he presses your legs together and shoves himself back inside of you with one skilled thrust of his hips.
You have no idea at what point you start crying but by the time Kyoutani's moans and grunts start picking up their pace, you're a sobbing mess.
“S-Say wh-what?”, you sob, hiding your tear and spit stained face behind your hands, not daring to look up at him.
“I want you to ask for my spit and beg for my cum”, Kentarou’s voice grows raspier, the dominance seething through every single one of his words makes it so easy for you to fall even further into the hole of absolute submission, “and stop hiding yourself, angel girl..I wanna watch the way I’m fucking your brains out.”
A row of loud, high pitched whines and a combination of sobs and moans are the only thing you manage to respond with, your brain clouded with the feeling of his thick cock dragging along the spongy walls of your cunt.
And before you can even comprehend his next movement, you hear the loud sound of skin meeting skin followed by the delicious feeling of a sting sending jolts of pain through your body, something you’ve come to love after so many hours with the tattoo artist.
“I told you to ask and beg for it, angel girl..you’re making me wait”, Kentarou spits, never once halting the movements of his hips as he watches the way you start sobbing even more, your cunt spasming around his cock after his painful spank.
“Please...f-fuck, please spit in my mouth and my face and on my cunt- want it all”, you start brabbling, another row of incohrent begs following right afterwars as your hips sloppily meet his harsh thrusts, “I want you to stuff me full of your cum, too- please, Daddy, wanna be your little c-cumdumpster.”
“There you go..”, Kyoutani’s plump lips stretch into a big smile as his cock throbs at the sound of that one forbidden little word he’s come to love even more after hearing it from you only a handful of times.
He didn’t hesitate to tell you about how much it turns him on around two weeks after the two fo you had started dating and even though he never really expected you to use it, he was secretely hoping for you to overcome your shyness.
You had used it only twice before when the pleasure had gotten too much for your brain to handle and Kyoutani knew you’d stop holding yourself back as soon as you got a taste of his cock.
“What did you just call me, pretty girl?”, he cooes, giggling softly at the way you whimper and cry even harder, knowing oh so well what he wants to hear.
And for the first time you just can’t get yourself to argue with the little voice in the back of your head; the feeling of his cock stretching your tiny cunt making it so, so easy to just let go of all those doubts and worries.
“Please, Daddy”, you reply and look into his eyes, groping your own tits as you arch your back to feel him even deeper inside of you, “n-need your cum inside of me...please- want everyone to know who I belong to.”
You don’t really expect it, yet your pussy almost instantly start clenching around his cock when kyoutani harshly grabs your face, making you part your lips before he spits into your mouth.
The loud, lewd sound of it rings in your ears in the best way possible and acting like a literal aphrodisiac in combination with the delicious taste of his saliva coating the hot muscle of your tongue.
You hum softly before you swallow it all, a gentle sob escaing your lips before you look up at him again.
"Now go on, angel girl”, he growls, pushing his hand in between your legs to rub circles into your hardened clit, “I want you to cum for me. Be a good little dumpster for your Daddy and show me what only I can do to you.”
You can barely process his words, the lewdness just fueling the fire in the pit of your stomach as you lose yourself in the feeling of your upcoming high. But you still start nodding, cringing at the feeling your saliva dripping down your jawline.
And with one last thrust, you feel your high crashing down onto you with such heaviness, you're left absolutely breathless.
Your whole body is trembling as the waves of your orgasm hit you, a row of incoherent words leaving your lips before you stop trying and just start crying for your precious Daddy.
"That's my baby”, is the first thing your brain manages to process again, everything still a blurry mess and when you look at Kyou, you realize you’re still cumming.
Your cunt is almost painfully spasming around his big cock, your juices dripping down the sides of his length as he helps you ride out your orgasm.
“You’re such a good, good girl for Daddy, aren’t you? I'm so proud of you", Kyoutani praises you, his thrust a little sloppier than before and from the way he's digging his fingers into the skin of your waist, you can only assume that he's also quiet close, "you're also going to take all of Daddy’s cum, right, baby? We gotta make sure I fill you up nicely..."
You take a deep breath, your slightly overstimulated cunt sending shivers down your spine as your eyes focus on Kyoutani's parted lips.
"Please, Daddy...need you to fill me up with your cum", you encourage him and when you slowly push two of your fingers into his mouth, knowing how much he loves to suck on them no matter what situation you’re both in, you finally get to see his whole face crunch up in pleasure.
His body tenses up as his grip on your waist becomes firmer before he starts cumming inside of you with a deep, raspy moan; coating the walls in several shades of white with three thick spurts of his cum.
Kyoutani buries his face in the crook of your neck as he slowly calms down, loud breathing and rushed gasps for air the only thing to fill the inside of his empty room.
"I love you so much", he whispers and gives you a soft kiss, his cock still firmly buried inside of your sensitive cunt before he shoots you a soft smile; looking almost boyish with his glossy eyes and flushed cheeks.
"I love you, too, D-Daddy”, you whisper, gulping harshly as the words leave your lips, feeling yourself grow even smaller underneath his strong yet comforting gaze, “thank you for giving us a chance", you add and pull him into for another kiss.
"Kyoutani Kentarou, your favorite group of walking disappointments is back and better than ev - oh", Iwaizumi Hajime, Kyoutani's High School best friend, fellow tattoo aritst and roommate suddenly yells and almost brutally slams open the door, startling you to the last bone in your body.
Kyoutani is quick to cover you up with his body, his hand reaching for one of the blankets on the floor as he grunts in annoyance.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't know–", "What is it, Iwa-Chan? Is he jerking off again? Kyoutani Kentarou you little piece of shit, just go and fuck that–", just like Iwaizumi, Oikawa – who also happens to be his best friend, felow tattoo artist and roommate – comes to stand in the doorway, bumping into his best friend before he finally spots the two of you.
"You're naked", he points out, closing his eyes almost instantly after realizing what he has just come to witness and despite the disgusting feeling of wanting to disappear and never come back again, you can't help but giggle at their shocked and slightly disgusted faces.
Kyoutani takes a deep breath and pulls out of you, still making sure to hide you behind his body before he hands you the blanket and lets his eyes shift to the door, looking at his best friends in pure disbelief.
"Kawa stop fucking staring and – can you two please fuck off?", he yells, pulling the boys back to reality and the way both of them shift to look at you only to blush from their necks to their ears has you chuckling softly.
This type of situation is nothing you’re not used to – unfortunately.
"Uhm – of course! Oh, my fucking God! So sorry, Kyou", Iwaizumi stutters and wraps his fingers around the doorknob, avoiding your eyes as much as he can before he pushes Oikawa away and then closes the door with another row of apologies.
Kyoutani just looks at you apologetically as he shakes his head and face palms himself, making the both of you burst into loud laughter.
And after taking a shower together and actually eating some late dinner with the boys, you fall asleep with Kyoutani's arms tightly wrapped around your waist, his face buried inside the crook of your neck and one last love confession.
And when those sweet words fall past his lips yet again, you realize – you're finally home.
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#haikyuu smut#hq!! smut#kyoutani smut#kyoutani kentarou smut#hq smut#haikyuu!! smut#haikyuu x female reader#hq!! x female reader#kyoutani x female reader
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“it’s not that important”
Summary: Y/N is in Harry’s band and one night they have a drunken hook up. One thing leads to another and they find themselves engaging in a friend’s with benefits type of situation. spoiler: it is important
AKA: A friends with benefits to lovers story :) with some angst in there
This is for @stylesharrys fallinharry10k celebration so my trope is friends with benefits! prompt is “you have no goddamn idea what you do to me. when i’m around you, i have no control of my emotions or my thoughts” and the tenth picture ^ i kinda just used it in the beginning to descripe what he was wearing - i got really carried away with this story but the prompt is in there !! lol, not proofread tho but would love your feedback !!!! :) love y’all very much
oh boy i’ve had this done for agesss but i hadn’t written the smut until today so now we’re here i dont even remember what happens - i vaguely remember not loving the end but I hope yall enjoy
Word Count: 15.4k (longest fic to date) | Warnings: smut, angst, fluff, alcohol consumption? i dont remember but i dont think theres anything too heavy in here.
-
“Hey Harold!” You smile as you easily hop over the side of the couch and settle beside your bandmate.
Harry groans, yet can’t keep the small smile off of his face when he sees it’s you. “How many times have I told you to never call me that?”
Your eyes narrow at his faux glare. “And how many times have I told you, I simply do not care?”
You reach a hand out and tousle his already disheveled, unstyled brown hair. Despite his lack of styling, his hair still looked perfect. His chestnut hair fell into a middle part when he did nothing to it and you found it endearing. It made him look far younger than he truly was, like a boy you might have pursued when you were in your early days at college. The waves slightly framed his prominent cheekbones and chiseled jaw that was sporting a tiny amount of stubble.
He moves his arm from around the back of the couch to pat at his hair, trying to put it back in its nondescript position you had just messed with. After he’s satisfied, he uses the same hand to push up his glasses on the bridge of his nose. They’re chestnut brown Gucci frames that match the natural highlights in his hair. You can safely assume that’s why he bought them. The lenses are clear, but you know they don’t hold any prescription. He looks incredulously at you from behind them still.
“Nice glasses,” you mention offhandedly as you reach out to the coffee table to grab the drink you had left there earlier.
Before Harry had arrived, you had been taking up residence on the couch, in the spot he had actually taken up. You had ventured to the restroom for a moment and gotten held up in a conversation when asked your preference for the Beatles. Having to defend your staunch stance for the Beatles and against the Rolling Stones, you had gotten swept up into an argument with Adam. He believed that because the Rolling Stones toured for longer warranted them the title of best rock band. While you countered that despite their long touring and production of music, the Stones had a rotation of members. The Beatles maintained the four of them and held such a large impact even though they were barely together for a decade. They were one of a kind, or at least the first of their kind, you’d allow. You weren’t really in the mood for intellectual conversation tonight, so upon seeing Harry taking up your seat, you had told Adam you’d continue the discussion at a later date and returned to your spot.
“Thanks,” Harry mumbles as his gaze flits around the room. He wasn’t sure if you were actually complimenting him, but he would take it as one either way.
The rest of your friends are all up and about, drinking, talking, dancing. It was the usual house party scene: a relatively intimate gathering, music you all actually liked, some friends of friends feeling slightly out of place. There was no pressure in this type of gathering but still Harry wasn’t necessarily in the party mood tonight. Usually, Harry was the one instigating these types of get-togethers with his friends and bandmates. He liked to be the life of the party, but as the tour loomed closer and closer, he felt some tinge of longing for quiet and solitude. He knew he wouldn’t have much quiet while on the road, which mostly didn’t scare him. He loved the stage and the high he received from performing and the gratification he felt from all the people in the room being there to see him. But there was also that other part of him that liked the quiet, the privacy. As the lack of alone time nudged itself around the corner, he had been hoping to enjoy solitude, or at the very least peace before he was on the road. Some sort of blissful state before technical chaos ensued. When Charlotte, the host of tonight’s soiree, had texted their group chat about tonight, Harry had politely declined. Then came the slew of private texts from Charlotte giving him all the reasons he should come tonight. He tried to say no again, but had shown up after the continued begging from her.
His appearance mirrored his expression, choosing a not perfectly fitted white t-shirt and random trousers rather than picking something he really loved, like usual. You could tell something was up and as his friend you were wondering what was wrong with him.
“Don’t sound so excited, Harry, someone might mistake you for somebody who’s happy to be here.” You stick your tongue into the side of your cheek, gauging his reaction.
“Has anyone ever told you you’re not very funny?” He quips, green eyes flashing to meet yours.
Your banter is probably how the pair of you communicated the best, never really falling into the whole serious side of friendship. You never shared those late night talks about the future or your fears. It was a fun friendship, so you didn’t fancy yourself one of his closest confidants. When it came to music, you and Harry were a bit more serious which formed a sort of paradox because the music you would share with each other gave a far greater insight into your souls than you probably realized. As a member of his band, you would discuss his music and what was going on with that sort of business part. But the sharing and discussion of other music that you did was part of your friendship, even if you didn’t see it like that. Because of the countless albums you had recommended to each other and the specific songs you had made note of, Harry and you knew each other much better than you thought you did. Music connects to something deep inside yourself and you have to like it enough and know the other person well enough to believe that they will also enjoy it to recommend it. As much tongue and cheek that you partook in with Harry, deep down, unbeknownst to either of you, you were that friend he shared his hopes and fears with, through the way he knew best, music.
“No, most people find me hilarious...”
You take a sip of your drink, trying to cover up the sting that his remark actually left. Most of the time you were great at keeping up with anyone’s banter, especially Harry’s, but tonight you weren’t feeling it. His tone had sounded so harsh it almost sounded like he meant it. His features soften when he sees the way your face falls, despite your sarcastic tone.
“‘M sorry. I’m just not in the best mood tonight. Didn’t want to come, but Charlotte…” He shifts to face you, arm retracting slightly around the couch, landing his hand at the edge of your shoulder. His fingers fiddle with themselves absentmindedly, he turns his rings around his fingers and they ever so slightly brush against your shoulder. You don’t mind, you know its his nervous tick that he did whenever he didn’t have something to clink them against.
“Yeah, same here, actually.” Your tuck an out of place hair behind your ear, returning your gaze to Harry, who’s tilting his head at you curiously. “But might as well make the most of it, though. After all, this is our last week before tour starts.” You raise your glass and tilt it towards him before taking a sip.
You really didn’t have a plan, you were just trying to make him feel a little better. It was seldom you saw him so solemn at this type of gathering. He usually was the one bouncing from group to group, entertaining everyone with his dazzling charm and quick wit. Sometimes he would bring a date and spend the night with them in the corner, but that was usually at bigger parties than this. At these types of gatherings you often found yourself talking with Charlotte for most of the night. You were both new additions in the band and you had clicked immediately. You would travel in a pair between different groups and talk with everyone. Sometimes you would tell a humorous anecdote about your life and everyone would laugh wholeheartedly. Your ability to retell a story and make it hilarious every time seemed to be your secret talent. You could make any experience into a ten-minute retelling and it always sounds like the funniest moment of your life. It ranged from your embarrassing audition for Grease as a tween to your supermarket run in with an old acquaintance or B-list celebrity the day before. It didn’t matter what it was, it just always had the entire circle of people laughing and wiping their eyes with joy. You’d laugh a little with themselves, but usually you just had a triumphant smile on your lips for the rest of the night.
He nods, sipping his own drink for the first time since you had settled down beside him. “Well, I’m all ears.”
“What?”
“Give me your suggestions on how to make the most of tonight.”
“Drinking, mostly, was my plan,” you laugh nervously as Harry continues to stare at you intently.
“Mostly?”
“I mean, what do you want me to say? I didn’t think to pack my bouncy castle, my bad.”
He bites back a laugh but lets some air escape his defined nose, before staring with a deadpan face at you.
You like to tease him. You simply liked him. Harry was different from other men you knew. You were pretty sure most people could say that though. Harry was just different. It seemed like no one could not have some sort of affection for him. With the playful friendship the pair of you had, you always skirted the edge of flirtation. But you also didn’t particularly ever want to cross any lines with him. He was the employer of you, technically. He had brought you into his backing band and you wouldn’t do anything to harm that position. As well, at the end of the day you knew Harry. His tendencies and the choices he made.
When you were around him at parties like this, you had to try really hard to keep him at an arm’s length. Because on one hand, you would drink and suddenly the boundaries you put up didn’t seem that important, instead his lips started to look rather inviting, but on the other, you knew that he was extremely emotionally closed off to any relationship that was more than either friendship or a one night stand.
Harry doesn’t give you a response, just swings back his drink. The pair of you sit and drink in silence. Before you know it, Harry and you are five drinks in, finally talking after the second. The pair of you decide to move to the balcony outside and continue your conversation there after the third. After the fourth, you're getting really handsy and by the end of the fifth, Harry’s arm is wrapped tightly around your waist and you're laughing breathlessly into his neck. It looks like he’s just shielding you from the cold night air, but both of you seemed to be enjoying each other’s embrace for other reasons.
Finally catching your breath, you lean back and pant softly as you meet eyes with Harry. His pupils have blown out from the alcohol and dark light. The emerald green barely surrounds the black and you swear there’s flecks of gold or maybe brown in them. Your brows scrunch at the revelation and Harry asks what you’re thinking. You don’t respond, too entranced and drunk to even hear him.
“Oi,” he bops your nose, “What is goin’ on in there, little lady?”
Your hand reaches up and widens Harry’s eye manually. His inebriated state has no qualms about you doing such an odd thing. “Why’s your green not actually green?”
“What?” He asks before moving your hand away from his face, it instead falls to his chest. The pair of you shift until your caged between his body and the balcony’s ledge. You pout as you stare up at him. His skin looks soft and taught over every inch of his face and neck. The urge to kiss him keeps nagging at the back of your mind. The idea keeps creeping up closer and closer and the drunker you are the less likely you are to suppress it.
“Do you want to fuck me?” You blurt out.
“Sure.” Harry isn’t taken aback. He had been thinking about asking for a while, so he was glad you had asked first, made it easier for him.
“Okay, let’s go.”
He takes you back to your place, the pair of you catching a cab the short distance between yours and Charlotte’s flats. No one blinks an eye at the pair of you leaving together. Everyone watched the pair of you sulk all night about being there and only enjoying the other’s company, so they weren’t keen on either of you staying. Charlotte was simply glad the pair of you had stayed for as long as you did.
The two of you walk casually until you’re inside your bedroom. Once inside, Harry throws you on the bed and fucks you. Hard. He’s got you spread out in more ways than you had ever thought possible. He’s got you saying things you had never even dreamed of saying. And he’s got you cumming and screaming more than you could have ever wanted. He enjoys himself as well. He loves the way you feel around him and the way your eyes look up at him while he fucks you straight into the bed. He loves the way you sound whispering dirty things and screaming his name. He loves the feel of your soft skin all over your body as he pushes deep inside you. He loves the way you’re able to rip a guttural moan from him every time he cums. And he cums three times that night. While it wasn’t quiet, he did find that blissful state he had been in desperate need of.
After the third round, Harry feels spent. He brings himself into a sitting position, legs hanging off the edge of your bed. You’re lying in your bed, completely overstimulated, cumming at least twice as many times as Harry. He scratches at the top of his head, his bicep bulging as he folds his arms around himself.
“That was fucking good, Y/N. Just what I needed.”
You can only hum in response.
Then he takes your blanket and lays it over you. After that he begins to stand up, getting ready to grab his things and go.
“You don’t have to go…” your voice raises when you realize what he’s doing.
“Yeah, I do. This was just a one time thing, yeah? I enjoyed it, but you know...”
“Erm, I guess?” You rolled to fully look at him, he was pulling his t-shirt back on now, his marked chest disappearing beneath the white fabric. “Do you really not stay over at your one night stands?”
He thinks about it as he begins with his shoes and his glasses at the same time. “Yes? Usually I don’t know the person and I don’t particularly want to sign an autograph when I leave in the morning. Best to leave immediately afterwards.”
“That was exactly why I wanted you to stay...Shit! No chance you’ll give me an autograph now? Could sign my tit, right next to your hickies.”
He laughs, automatically in a better mood after the catharsis of having sex. It was also a relief for him that you didn’t seem to be weird about the hook up. “Shut up!”
“You’re a twat, Harold.” He groans instinctively at the annoying nickname, not caring about the ‘twat’ part. “But be my guest, you can freeze your arse off while waiting for your cab outside at this hour.”
“Rude..” He mutters, standing in your doorway now. “You wouldn’t actually make your employer stand out in the cold at this time of night. I haven’t even got a jumper. Could get a cold and ruin my voice. ”
“You’re the one who says it’s best to leave immediately. Get on it, mister.”
Your hand makes a shooing movement, but he doesn’t budge. You sigh as he makes a puppy dog face - eyes wide and a puckered pout with his flushed cheeks and lips - playing into your actual kindness, that he knows is somewhere. Your sweetness that you were keeping hidden from Harry right now. Nothing was serious between you so it made sense that you were trying not to let your innate ability to care show as he’s about to walk out on you.
“Ugh, fine. Stop looking at me like that. Just grab one of my coats from the bottom right, they’re all oversized so one should fit.” He doesn’t relent on the face. “And you can stay inside until your cab comes.” You sigh and throw one of your pillows at him. He catches it easily and throws it back, much softer than your throw. “Also never pull the employer card on me again when I’m naked in the bed you just fucked me in,” you call as he looks through your closet.
Returning with a patchwork coat you had thrifted tight over his shoulders, he looks at you seriously, “Yeah sorry about that part. Definitely wasn’t trying to exert my power over you, it sounded better in my head. Meant more like you could ruin my voice and both of our jobs.”
You nod and chuckle slightly, finding how inarticulate Harry could be as an endearing trait. His explanation didn’t actually make it sound better. “The jacket fits.” You say, choosing to move forward from Harry’s weirdness, knowing he didn’t mean any harm from his initial statement.
“Yeah, thanks. I think my cab is here,” He glances at his phone, “So I’ll go...See you?”
“I’m sure.” You smile, “We do in fact work together and will soon be touring the world. Would be a bit weird if I didn’t see you.”
“Right.” He nods and adds a peace sign before he walks out of your sight. You know he’s gone when you hear the door click shut. What an interesting night.
-
Love on Tour had just started and Harry couldn’t lie. He couldn’t keep his mind off of you. You were both his most recent partner and the best he had had in a while. He found himself rubbing over the spots on his neck and clavicle that you had given particular attention to during the night you had shared together. When he went to bed it was your body he pictured to get himself off. So, after the first show he’s beelining to you at the beginning of the after party. He’s got an adrenaline high and he needs a release. You’re the solution. He’s whispering in your ear, asking if you’d like to meet him in his dressing room. Your eyes study his face when he pulls back and they widen slightly when the realization of what he’s implying dawns on you. Then you’re nodding and excusing yourself from a random conversation five minutes later.
Inside Harry’s dressing room, you find Harry already unbuttoning his shirt. He grabs your face and shoves his lips onto yours once you lock the door. As he kisses you he tries to make one thing very clear, “This doesn’t mean anything.”
“Got it.” You begin to finish Harry’s job of taking off his shirt.
He pulls back to look you in the eye, “Are you okay with that?”
“Jesus fuck, yes, Harry, just shut up and fuck me senseless again!”
He listens to you and begins to kiss down your jaw and neck. His open-mouth kisses leave a searing trail across your skin. He settles on a spot at the base of your neck and begins to suck and nip at it with vigor. You set to work on finishing his job of unbuttoning his shirt. Then you pull off your own shirt, reaching behind you to untie the bows at the back. The new skin exposed grabs Harry’s attention and he moves down to suck over the cleavage of your tits. He’s happy to be back with his ‘bosom friends’. You smack his head when he says it and he chuckles darkly, only sucking harder on them causing you to moan louder than you would like.
Once you’re both in only your underwear, you find your back pressed up against the mirror behind the dressing room counter. Harry’s body is nestled between your spread legs as he kisses down your skin. His fingers dance along the line of your thong as he looks up from beneath his lashes for position, you only push his head closer to your heat in response. He laughs mischievously before tugging them down off your hips.
“Missed this pretty little cunt...All I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout,” He mutters as he begins to latch onto your dripping core.
Your brows shoot up at the thought that Harry’s mind has been stuck on you for the past week. You definitely had thought about your drunken hook up a bit, but hadn’t thought it had left a lasting impression on Harry, you assumed he had that lovely of a night with every person he chose to spend intimate time with. These thoughts are forgotten when Harry’s warm tongue is lapping at your swollen bud. You’re already panting for Harry and now you’re heaving with moans and whimpers leaving your mouth with every lick and nip of his expert mouth.
“Fuck Harry, feels so good,” you whine as his tongue travels down your folds and swirls and dips into your hole.
He moans at your words and the way your legs squeeze at his head. His hands move to spread you open wide to maintain his control and he smirks at the way your body rolls due to the friction of his voice against your pussy.
“Be a good girl f’me,” he growls still pressed against your wet heat.
Your body rolls again as you get closer and closer to your first release. Your bite your lip trying to contain all of the sounds that are trying to escape your mouth. Harry notices the new silence and glances up seeing how you’re trying to behave. As much as he likes you obeying his words, he also wanted to hear how he was pleasuring you.
“Tell me how you feel, princess,” he demands.
“So-so good,” you hiccup as his fingers caress over your folds now as he looks you in the eyes, his lips wet with your slick. He kisses you hard, his tongue diving into your mouth and you kiss back passionately, loving your taste on his tongue.
He pulls back and your hands trail down his chest, swirling around his familiar tattoos and hair that grace his lower torso as you move. He grins, enjoying the feeling of you on him and how he was affecting you.
Soon enough, his cock is finding its way back to your glistening folds, wet with your own liquids as well as his saliva. His mouth waters at the sight. He only pushes into you a few times like this. Then he catches sight of himself in the mirror in front of him and can’t resist. He pulls out and flips you over, your squeal leaving your mouth before you can stop yourself. His dick finds your entrance once again, not wanting to be without the wonderful warmth for any longer than he must.
“Ahhh,” Harry groans when he slips back inside.
Your head throws back on your neck, the feeling of him as well as the sight of him gripping your hair in one hand and your fleshy hip in the other. His rings dig into the skin as he’s able to slam more forcefully in this position. You gasp and whine at his motions. The sounds coming from between your legs are turning you on even more and they seem to make Harry happy too. He picks up the pace and drops the grasp of your hair for a second. Your head falls down as you try to keep yourself up on your elbows.
Gripping both of your hips, Harry growls, “Look at me while I fuck you. C’mon now.”
You moan in response and tear your eyes open to see your reflections in the mirror. One hand goes up to hold onto the mirror to give yourself more traction, causing your back to arch even more. The new position has Harry’s cock slamming into you deeper.
“Fuck!” Harry practically yells and can’t keep himself from landing a harsh slap on your ass. You jump forward at the sting but his other hand keeps the pace steady. He keeps burying himself into you all the way to his base, his balls slapping at your now slick spread thighs. He rubs over the red handprint he had just left on your ass. You whimper and bite your lip, truly enjoying the sensation.
Still staring into the mirror as Harry commanded, your eyes water slightly and Harry makes eye contact with you through the mirror. You smile widely and he grins back. “This feels so fucking good. Your pussy takes me so well. Fuck…” Harry babbles, still pistoning into you. You had noticed how vocal he was the first time you had fucked, but thought it had just been the alcohol. Apparently not. But you didn’t mind, you much preferred it to partners who barely spoke or didn’t even moan. Like how were you supposed to know what was going on in their minds? With Harry, you knew he was having a good time.
A few more heavy thrusts and you felt yourself nearing the edge. Your panting was getting faster, exceeding the speed of Harry’s thrusts and he could also feel you were close. Your cunt began squeezing him tighter so he hooked a hand under your knee and brought it onto the table. He hunched over you slightly and snaked his hand to your clit. “C’mon darling, I know you're close. Can feel that little cunt putting a choke hold on my cock.” He rubs at your clit with the vigor of strumming a quick paced song on the guitar. It’s enough to overtake your senses and the laugh that had bubbled from his words turns into your orgasm moan. You try to muffle it into the arm that is holding you against the mirror to avoid a full on scream because it feels that good. You felt like you were having your first ever orgasm, it felt that new to you.
A few more thrusts and you’ve come down from it, but Harry still hasn’t finished. It’s your turn to be the partner coaxing the other to get off. “Faster, Har. Want you to cum too.” He grunts, picking back up the pace. He had slowed to let you ride out your stay. “That’s it...want you to cum in me. Your cock feels so fucking good.” You whine, meaning every word. He smiles again at you and closes his eyes, focusing on chasing his high. You watch as his smile widens to that open mouth grin, “Fuck,” he almost whispers. And there it is. There’s a twitch in his hips that mirrors his expression and then he’s pulling out and cumming on your back. His voice is now even lower and raspier than before as he babbles how good that was and how tight your pussy was. It was sweet nothings, but extremely explicit and you sighed heavily, feeling a small orgasm wash over you again. His final thrusts and voice pushing you off the cliff again easily.
The two of you take a minute to bring your breathing back to normal and Harry goes to clean your back off.
“So..how do you feel about maybe doing this regularly?” Harry asks sheepishly as he begins to pull his pants back on.
“Like a friends with benefits kind of thing? Or bandmates with benefits, rather.” You laugh breathlessly at your not really funny joke, but you’re now truly exhausted. From the show and the fuck, you felt thouroughly worked out.
“I guess that’s what it is, yeah.”
“Yeah, sure. Sounds good.”
“You’re honestly so chill, Y/N. It’s fuckin’ hot.”
You laugh and flip your hair dramatically. You’re only in your bra and panties right now and Harry licks his lips, finding your playfulness to be a turn on. “What can I say?” You laugh.
“But like I said before...it’s just sex.” He’s buttoning up his shirt and looking at your reflection through the mirror now. He watches you slip the pants you had been wearing back on.
“Oh, Harold, I know.” On cue, he groans and turns around to face you after fixing his mused hair in the mirror. Interrupting yourself, you turn your back to Harry, “Can you tie this, sorry it’s hard for me to get the -” Harry walks to you without any hesitation and begins tying the silk ribbons on the back of your shirt. “Thanks. Anyway,” you turn to face him when he’s finished and you place both of your palms on his chest. “Trust me, I know you’ve got your issues and I’m not looking to be the girl that tries to change you. I know what this is. I only ask that you let me know when you sleep with other people, because once you do, you won’t need me.” Harry nods and you pat your hands against him. You both smile and go your separate ways when you leave the dressing room.
-
Harry and you fucked almost every night on tour. Sometimes it was right after, on the counter in his dressing rooms. Sometimes it was later in the evening in his hotel room or yours. He stopped leaving immediately after your hook ups. He never kicked you out of his room so he decided it was fine for him to stay in yours. Especially because you weren’t a stranger who would be weird with him in the morning. He also didn’t like trekking through the hotel halls late at night.
The first few times you stayed in the same bed, the two of you stayed on opposite sides of the bed, not touching after you were finished engaging in your sexual endeavours. Rigid bodies against the edges of the mattress. Then one particularly long night, filled with multiple rounds, Harry was so exhausted from his performance on stage and off that he collapsed on top of you. He fell asleep there and you didn’t particularly mind. It felt nice to be slightly compressed and held. He shifted in his sleep and when he woke up he wasn’t upset to find you nestled into his side with his arms wrapped around you. After that, cuddling sort of became part of the routine. After you were done having sex, Harry or you would get up to clean up and bring back waters. Then you would settle in his arms. Sometimes in a spooning position and sometimes you cradled softly into his chest. You didn’t talk about it, it just happened.
One night it was your head directly on top of his butterfly tattoo, one leg thrown over his lower torso and your arm snuggly wrapped around his middle. He liked to pet your hair when you laid against his chest in that way. His fingers would fiddle with the strands and you liked it because he usually took off his rings before he would do it and his hands felt so soft and delicate against you. Harry liked the way he felt when he would hold you afterwards. It was calming to fall asleep against your soft skin and feel your fingertips trace lyrics to songs he wasn’t sure the name of against his own.
No one knew about how your friendship with Harry worked. To the rest of the world, you seemed to be someone who had become another close friend in the band. You were similar to Mitch in many respects. Except for when Harry winked at you during a show, it wasn’t a friendly wink, it was a ‘this song makes me horny and I can’t wait to relieve the pressure by fucking you later’ kind of wink. You knew this because Harry had gone over and whispered it in your ear during a quick break, when you had only looked at him weirdly after he did it.
Before the show tonight, you pulled Harry aside, “So what are we thinking tonight? I feel like I might want to ride you...Haven’t been on top in a while.” In the darkness of the backstage, you crane your neck to take Harry’s earlobe between your teeth. He groans softly and grips your hips to guide them against his for a second. “Sounds fuckin’ fantastic, love.” You twitch back, releasing him immediately at the word. You always told him not to call you that and he tried to reason with you, that it was just something he called people. But you disliked it a lot, adding it to the growing list of rules the pair of you had for the do’s and don'ts of being friends with benefits with each other.
“Harold,” you groan and he steps back at that pet name. While he hated this, you refused to let him put it on the list because it didn’t cross any lines with your physical arrangement. Not that there was any physical list to put it on, it was more of a theoretical list that the two of you would speak of occasionally.
“Sorry.” He says eventually, “Didn’t mean it.” You both laugh.
You think about how other relationships were sometimes desperate to hear their partner express their love for them and you believe you’re grateful for the simplicity of your arrangement. The term relationship regarding what you and Harry were doing was also in the ‘don’t’ category on the list. If either of you were being honest, there should be no need for a list and you should be questioning yourselves why you felt the need to set boundaries if one part of it was physical and the other part was your friendship and job. If it truly was just physical why were boundaries constantly needing to be set and followed? But right now honesty was not in the cards.
-
After the show Harry gets delayed with press or fans or something that you don’t really care about. You barely read the text that he sends, only caring about the ‘sorry got held up’ and the ‘be there in thirty’.
You let yourself into his room and wait on the bed, flipping through your phone, completely unbothered by the rest of the world. When you hear a knock on the door, you don’t think twice about getting up and opening the door. You only realize your terrible mistake when it’s Mitch and not Harry standing at what you’re also just realizing isn’t your door, but instead Harry’s.
“Shit!” you say under your breath as Mitch looks at you confused.
The room is dark behind you because Harry would have just entered and gotten down to business. He might turn on a side lamp, but you hadn’t felt the need to have light on while you waited. Forgetting all of that, you had just gone to the door and opened it.
Mitch tucks some of his hair behind his ear as he stares at you. “Is Harry here?”
“Er..No?” It comes out as a question. You rub the back of your ankle with your foot, feeling nervous.
“Is he actually not here or?” Mitch trails off, narrowing his eyes at you.
“No, no he’s really not here. I’m waiting for him, too.” You rush your words, but try to remain calm.
“You have a key to his room. And you’re waiting in the dark.” He says. They’re not questions and you’re not sure just how guilty you look.
“Yeah!” You try to come up with a non suspicious response, hoping there’s a way to still salvage your’s and Harry’s secret, “He gave me his key because he wanted to talk about something and I kept it dark because my eyes always hurt after shows. Kind of like a migraine.” You scratch at your head and smile, trying to convince Mitch. He seems to believe you as he nods slowly and opens his eyes more.
There’s a little bit of an awkward silence and Mitch shifts his weight between his feet, looking at you still. Just as you're about to invite Mitch to come wait inside with you, Harry steps out of the elevator and begins to walk down the hall. His key card is already in hand and your eyes widen. Harry’s expression mirrors yours when he realizes Mitch is standing outside of his door and that you are standing with him. “Mitch!” Harry says, placing his hand on Mitch’s shoulder and sliding his key card into his back pocket with the other. Mitch turns to Harry without seeing him put away the other key card and you look at the pair of them.
“I was just telling Mitch how you gave me your key card so we could talk about...that thing.” You interject, flicking the lights on in Harry’s room as casually as possible. Harry shoots you a look about how you couldn’t come up with an actual reason for being there. You shrug your shoulders helplessly.
Mitch looks between the two of you and feels some weird tension and he’s not sure if it's always there and he’s just noticing or if something is going on right now.
“Yeah, well, I came to stop by to talk about the riff in Canyon Moon. Something is wonky with it.”
“Oh! Sure,” Harry nods to Mitch and then glances at you, “Y/N, we can talk about that other thing later. It’s not that important anyway.” His tone is so casual and nonchalant. You stare at him, thinking he can’t be serious. You had been almost sure he would send Mitch away, but instead you were being kicked to the curb. When he doesn’t say sike or anything of the sort, you nod. “Okay,” then you mumble a ‘good luck’ with figuring out the problem with the song. Mitch walks in the door, but Harry’s eyes stay fixed on your figure retreating down the hallway. He watches you disappear and is only pulled from his thoughts when Mitch calls his name from the couch in the room.
After reaching your floor, you key into your room and get ready for bed. Just as you’re about to drift off to sleep, completely alone for once in a long time, there’s another knock. This time you check the peephole, a habit you realized you were going to have to get better at. It’s Harry. You open the door and walk away immediately once he’s entered the room.
“Why are you here?”
“Thought we could still...” He follows you into the room, trying to make out your face in the darkness.
“I’m not in the mood anymore.” Your tone gives away your annoyance. You couldn’t hide that you were mad at Harry for sending you away. It made you feel weird. The way he did it so easily made you feel like you were extremely disposable and unwanted.
“I’m sorry,” he sighs as he lays down beside you. You turn to face him when he places a hand on the small of your back. You’re face to face and your noses are almost brushing. It’s not really possible to see each other’s features, but after months of hooking up you knew each other’s faces pretty well. You could reach out and pinpoint all of Harry’s freckles and moles on his face and neck right now and be correct. He could likely do the same. The theory is proven correct when he reaches out and his hand dances down your cheek. “Just thought it would be less suspicious if I didn’t get rid of him. Couldn’t make him wait either…”
“I know,” your voice is small and soft, just above a whisper, “I forgive you.” You scoot closer to him and Harry instinctively wraps his arm around you, bringing you tightly into him. You sigh into his neck and he shivers at your warm breath on his slightly clammy skin. When you lick your lips, they brush lightly against his skin. He laughs at the feeling, so you decide to press an intentional kiss to the hollow in his neck. In response, he presses a kiss to your hairline, his lips slightly chapped after the concert.
The kisses are tender, filled with that thing neither of you dare attribute to anything the two of you did in the dark. The word you told him time and time again to not call you. So is just about every touch and word that has been exchanged in this room since Harry entered it. You fall asleep wrapped up in his arms, a soft smile resting on both of your faces. Neither of you seem to mind that you didn’t actually have sex tonight or anything even close to it.
-
When you wake up you feel especially well rested. You shift around and realize your bed is empty besides you. It depended on the day, but it was always a toss up between Harry being there when you woke up or not. However, lately, you had found it was usually the former. You would linger longer and so would Harry in each other’s rooms, lounging in each other’s embrace under the soft glow of the morning light peaking through whatever windows the room had. Today you were cold at his absence. Then you look up and realize you aren’t completely alone. Harry is standing at the end of your bed, staring down at his phone, smiling.
“Hey.”
You wait for his reply, but he doesn’t look up from his phone. “Hey, Harold,” you repeat. His head snaps up, a grimace on his face at the name. He slips his phone in his pocket and ruffles his hair. “Hey.” He finally responds. “I’m gonna head out.”
“Okay.”
Neither of you seem to find it necessary to talk about what happened last night. Harry definitely seemed a little off to you this morning, but you try to shake it from your thoughts. There was no reason to be upset with him being quiet. He didn’t owe you anything, you hadn’t even slept together last night, so if anything it was weird he stayed as long as he did.
It was the second night at the Forum in Los Angeles. This means no travelling necessary. No day off either, tomorrow you’d have a day off before the third and final show at the venue though.
Harry and you were talking normally at the venue, mostly about the setlist - him and Mitch had changed something for whatever reason last night, which was fine. Your banter was to a minimum, but you were trying to convince yourself that nothing was off. Even though it felt like something was different, you couldn’t place your finger on what it was, so you thought it was best to ignore it.
When Harry is about to go out on stage, you don’t pull him aside and when he introduces the members of the band to the audience, he doesn’t say anything fun or silly about you. He doesn’t wink or come up to you at any point in the performance. It’s so unusual the rest of your bandmates are giving you funny looks. Charlotte looks at you from across your keyboard in a way that she’s asking if you’re okay. You shake your head at everyone trying to signal that you’re fine.
Mitch goes over to Harry and whispers in his ear to check in with him, Harry looks at him with a bright smile on his face and says “of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Mitch looks between the pair of you, thinking back to last night and how weird the pair of you were being then. Maybe it dawns on him then what might be going on between the two of you, but if he did, he wouldn’t mention it for a long time.
You falter a bit on your back up vocals tonight. You’re trying to give it your all, like always, but for some reason your voice isn’t sounding the way you want it. About halfway through the show, when your voice comes out the exact opposite of how you would like, Harry finally gives you a second glance. His face practically emotionless, save for the single arched brow. He’s concerned, but not concerned enough where he would go over to you. He just doesn’t understand why you keep missing the right note tonight. You make a shake of your hand to say I don’t know either. He just shrugs and turns back around to continue the show, his lively smile returning while he turns his head.
After the show, Charlotte, Sarah, and you are all checking in, going over what had happened during the show in general. They’re both worried about your voice and you’re simply trying to tell them that it was just an off night. Nothing was wrong. As long as you told everyone else that, then it might turn out to be true.
“It’s fine, maybe I didn’t get enough sleep last night,” you fib, having gotten more sleep last night than most other nights on this tour. They both nod, seeming to take that as a reasonable answer.
Then Charlotte gets quieter as she whispers to the three of you, “Did you guys notice anything weird with Harry? He was super lively, but he barely interacted with you, Y/N, which is so unlike him...”
Sarah nods while you look skeptically on. Sarah adds, “He kept looking up to the boxes, too. More than usual at least. I don’t know though…” She trails off and you cross your arms over your chest, not really enjoying the conversation topic. “I mean, what do you think, Y/N?” Sarah adds.
Your eyes dance between the two women, your fellow bandmates, your friends. You sometimes wished you could share with them what you were doing with Harry. The secret was fun, but it’s also nice to be able to share with your girlfriends about the guy you’re seeing, even if it is a casual thing. The friendly gossip of it all is something fun to share, but sadly that was another thing you couldn’t do. You sigh, “You never really know what’s going on in his mind, y’know. He’s just Harry.” Your response is half-assed at best. You figure they’ll both give you shit for the non-answer you just supplied, but instead someone else speaks for them.
“I am in fact, just Harry.” He says and you swivel around to find yourself almost chest to chest with him. Charlotte laughs while Sarah simply smiles. Your eyes are huge as you stare up at him and you hope your blush doesn’t come out too strongly after being caught talking about Harry by himself. “Enlighten me on when I was being ‘just Harry’ though?” You bite your lip and take a step back from him, forming more of a line with the other women. He shrugs when no one offers a response, laughing lightly.
“Oh and Y/N, I can’t talk about that thing again tonight, I’ve got-”
“A date?” Charlotte asks, trying to understand why Harry was acting a little different tonight still. The part that Sarah had mentioned about him looking up into the boxes had given her the idea that he might have plans with someone after the show. Harry scratches his head, his hair slightly wet with sweat right after the show. He’s taken off his coat so he’s just in the almost completely unbuttoned, sweat soaked shirt he had been wearing underneath. It sticks tight to his skin and you can make out all the muscle lines that hide beneath the fabric that you usually get to caress. Your eyes flit from his body back to his face when he speaks again.
“Erm, I wasn’t going to phrase it like that...but yes, I suppose, it’s a date.” He says finally, he avoids your eye contact and you look at him very confused, trying to hide the hurt. He shoves his hands in his pockets trying to look and sound as casual as possible and ignore the strain he sees on your face. Is that what had held him up yesterday? Making plans with someone else? And he hadn’t told you until now? The past twenty four hours stung a little bit more now that you knew why Harry was being so distant. It simply felt icky finding out this way and it didn’t even seem like he was going to tell you it was a date.
“Okay,” you say simply and walk away. You hear Charlotte asking him details about his date, but you try actively not to hear any of it. Sarah watches you walk away and sees the way you wrap your arms around yourself to comfort you. She feels a twinge of sadness as she watches the scene unfold, seeing something she hadn’t realized was there before.
Harry doesn’t text or call you that night. You hang out with everyone else for a little while in Charlotte’s room before heading to bed, saying you think you need an early night tonight. Before you’re able to walk out of the door, Mitch stops you. “I heard Harry blew off whatever conversation the two of you have been trying to have again. Just wanted to tell you I’m sorry.” You try to smile but it comes out as more of a grimace. There is no conversation Harry is blowing off, it’s simply you. “It’s fine. Like he said yesterday, it’s not important.” Mitch nods, but still looks at you with concern. What he had seen last night, then on stage today, and what Sarah had told him about your interaction after the show it all strung together in his mind. It didn’t seem unimportant at all. But he didn’t know how he could tell you that. He felt like he should talk to Harry about the way you looked when you left Charlotte’s room tonight, but he didn’t know how to bring it up to him either.
You don’t realize you’re crying until you're in the elevator, and it’s slowly rising to your floor of the hotel. You’re only one level up, but it feels like an eternity in there. You already weren’t a fan of elevators, but this ride felt impossibly worse. The walls are all made up of mirrors and you see yourself in the reflection, but you don’t exactly recognize the girl in there. Your eyes are tired from the show, dark circles already formed. Your hands are aching, clenching and unclenching on their own accord. Your body is slumped against the back wall, likely leaving a slight imprint from the smoke residue and dust on your clothes. Worst of all are the tears running down your face, smudging at your makeup, the black mascara you had applied dripping down in sinister raindrops against your skin. The sad girl stares back at you as you sniffle slightly, confused at what you’re seeing. “Why are you crying?” you ask yourself, your voice creaking and then breaking at the end as you struggle to get out the word ‘crying’ before a sob wracks through you. You roll your eyes when your reflection offers no explanation for itself. You laugh at your own patheticness and try to shake the feelings you’re experiencing.
Inside your room now, you flop on the bed and stare straight up at the ceiling. Your arms spread to your sides and your legs lay limply below you. You think about every night before last, every night since the tour started. Every night where you weren’t alone, where you were with Harry. Your mind flits to last night, how Harry’s lips had ghosted over your skin after his apology. How you had told him you forgave him and it had felt so peaceful, so simple. It was all so easy. Thinking about him and the things the two of you did together brought a smile to your face, unbeknownst to you. When you realize it’s there, your face drops immediately, deciding not to think about Harry.
But trying to not think about Harry makes you only think about him more and what you think about him now most definitely doesn’t bring a smile to your face. You’re thinking about him out on his date with some person you chose to learn nothing about. Maybe out of fear of what is happening right now. By knowing nothing about the person, you can’t compare yourself to them. Can’t see what’s different about them that would make Harry go out on a date with them. But it doesn’t matter who they are or what they look like because at the end of it all you know one thing for certain. They’re not you. You correct yourself, you know two things actually, because you also know that Harry chose to be with them instead of you tonight.
You fall asleep with tear stained cheeks that night and absolutely nothing positive on your mind. You want to sleep but know it only brings whatever is bound to happen tomorrow, which doesn’t seem very promising.
-
It’s noon when you wake up and you wake to a knocking on your door. You grumble and throw a sweatshirt over your body to hide the underwear you slept in. Not remembering your new habit, you swing the door open without any hesitation to find Harry. He looks wide awake and happy, the way he almost always looks, a fresh beautiful flower of a man. You look at him groggily, “What are you doing here?”
“You weren’t answering your phone.”
“Because I was asleep?” You tilt your head and look at him incredulously. “What about this,” you gesture to your appearance, “looks like I just went for a 3 mile jog for fun and I love the morning?”
“Can I come in?” He ignores everything you just said and enters the room when you leave the door to get back in bed. You often did that with him, you don’t know why, but when he asked to come in the room it was just simpler to let him in then say anything. He knew what you meant.
He sits at the edge of the bed as you reclaim your spot in the middle of it, tucked slightly under the covers, but still sitting up. “How was your date?” You try to sound nonchalant and it seems to work. Harry doesn’t notice your tense figure, but you notice how he tenses up when you ask.
“Good…Her name was-” You don’t let him finish, you already know the answer to this next question and you don’t need her name in order to ask it, “Did you fuck her?”
He’s silent, green eyes staring straight at you. You meet his gaze, your eyes almost burning holes into him. His eyes are begging you to not make him answer the question, he doesn’t want this to end, even if he also didn’t want the commitment he had felt himself exhibiting the other night.
When he had come to your room the other night after Mitch had almost caught you, he knew he shouldn’t have stayed. He didn’t want you to feel bad so he had come to apologize, but when the pair of you didn’t have sex, he should have left. But he didn’t, he stayed and it wasn’t for you, it was for himself. It was for him to hold you in his arms because he liked to. But when he woke up the next morning he knew he needed to leave. Solely cuddling wasn’t part of your arrangement together. It’s probably on the list of don'ts that the pair of you had. So after he realized the line he had willingly crossed with you, he quickly sent a text to Jeff who had tried to set him up with a model they were acquaintances with the night before - the reason he had gotten held up. Harry had initially declined, not very interested in seeing anyone else but you. But looking back on that choice in the light of day seemed to solidify what this relationship was - a relationship - and Harry didn’t like that. The commitment wasn’t part of the plan, so he told Jeff to set that date up for after the second show at the Forum and give the woman a ticket. That’s why he was smiling at his phone the morning after only cuddling with you, that’s why he didn’t joke around with you during the show, and that’s why he wasn’t in your bed last night.
You watch him expectantly, silently waiting for his answer, your veins cold as ice. He finally starts his answer and he wants to make it clear that it wasn’t as good with the other woman, but he’s not sure how to work that part in. He’s not sure how to explain to you it meant nothing if your arrangement also apparently meant nothing. You barely even let him get in a sentence. “Yes, but it was just a one time-”
“Alright.”
“What?” He doesn’t understand what you mean when you nod your head and cut him off.
“I told you at the beginning, Harry. Tell me when you sleep with someone else because when you do this is over. It doesn’t matter if she’s the love of your life or a one night stand. I will not be a backup plan, so if you’re able to find other people to sleep with, you don’t need to be sleeping with me.”
He sits in silence for a moment, his jaw dropped open slightly. He’s unable to keep it shut as his mind races about what to say. “Are you mad with me?”
“No, I’m fine. This was just sex. Charlotte will be happy that I’ll be going out with her more.”
Harry’s brow furrows as you shift away from him on the bed, grabbing your phone and beginning to flick through it. You feel numb and you’d like to not think about why.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks because he does care about you, worry is written all over his face. He just can’t commit, not now.
“What would I be mad about, Harry?” You look up and your eyes widen at him, silently asking him to truthfully say why you should be so upset about this revelation. You always knew it would eventually come to an end, you just hadn’t expected so soon. You hadn’t known the last time would be the last time and it broke your heart even if you knew it shouldn’t.
He shifts to reach his hand out to touch your exposed knee. You move away from him and he sighs, looking exasperated. “I- I don’t know. It just seems like we should talk about this.”
“You didn’t even think it was necessary to tell me you were going on a date last night, so I think it’s best if we just left it at ‘it’s fine, see you around’.”
He spreads his hands out across the sheets, examining his rings and painted nails thoroughly. You’re right, he doesn’t really want to talk about this. Well, more so, he’s conflicted. He would like to talk enough that you want to continue your arrangement but he doesn’t want to talk about feelings or emotions. Even if he has those feelings and emotions, they’re just not part of the things he’d like to talk about. “But-” You set your phone down at his first word, “Were you even going to tell me you fucked someone else today if Charlotte hadn’t asked you if it was a date last night? Would you just have come to my room tonight and acted like nothing had changed?”
“I would have told you.”
“Sure.”
“I swear I would’ve. I would never break a promise to you.”
“But you would make a decision that affects the both of us without telling me until afterwards?” Your voice breaks a little and you beg yourself not to cry right now.
“I thought you said this was just sex?”
You laugh humorlessly, in disbelief, “Of course it’s not, Harry! And it hasn’t been for a long time and that’s why you got scared and went and fucked someone else.” He looks at you blankly, unsure what to say, knowing you’re right. You continue, “But I also told you at the beginning of this, that I wasn’t going to try to change you. So this is me not trying to change you.” You sigh when he still says nothing, his expression completely unreadable, even to you. “Why couldn’t you have left it at ‘it’s fine’?” You say finally, barely above a whisper.
He blinks a few times after your final question. He flexes his hand one more time and then stands up from the bed. He adjusts his clothes and stares at you. You feel helpless, but you’re still trying to look pulled together, even after your outburst. You stare back. A thousand words floating through your heads, all the things you want to say and likely never will.
“I know, I’m…” he pauses, trying to get himself to say it, but he can’t. He can’t admit that he’s completely ruined whatever messed up paradise you had created together. “I’ll see you later.”
The apology or lack there of hangs in the air as he walks silently out your door. You don’t move, you barely even blink, still staring at the spot he had just occupied. Your breath finally escapes you, a large sigh. Then some nervous laughter. It was over...just like that. But things like this, left like this are never really over.
-
It’s awkward for a good amount of the rest of the tour. You hang out with your bandmates more and Harry rarely ever comes out with them after the shows. He either hangs out with Mitch on his own or is going out with random people he knows on the road. You and him speak, but it’s never a lot or about anything relatively meaningful. It’s not the fun back and forth of before or the fiery heat of sneaking around. You try to be normal with him, act like his casual friend and bandmate.
He does his best to do the same, but it’s difficult for him. He doesn’t know how to talk to you anymore. He misses being with you, but can’t bring himself to fix it. He doesn’t do much to right his wrongs with you. He also doesn’t even know what he would want if he did apologize. It scared him to think about the step that came after ‘sorry’ so he saved himself the trouble and never did that part either. One night he texts you: “I’m trying, it’s just hard.” and that’s it. You don’t give him a response, he doesn’t need one. You know he’s trying and he knows you know.
Near the end of the tour, he comes out with the rest of you for drinks one night. Only Mitch is between the two of you in the booth, so you feel closer to Harry than you’ve felt in a long time. The group of you are chatting and having a good time. You somehow get onto a story from when you were still in college. You explain how you had narrowly avoided getting Chlamydia right before your Christmas break junior year. You act out the conversations you imagined would have happened at all your Christmas events if you had indeed gotten it. Your impressions of your mother, father, and sister have everyone laughing the most. Harry is shaking with laughter from your story and you smile at him in appreciation when he says, “That is the funniest story I’ve heard in a long fucking time.”
The rest of the night goes really well, for the most part. No one bickers or is short with each other. Everyone is laughing and drinks are flowing. Eventually Mitch gets up to go to the bathroom and you feel Harry slide back into the booth closer to you after letting Mitch out. Your hand had taken up residence next to your thigh, resting on the vinyl of the booth. You sense something next to it now and notice Harry’s hand is resting close beside it. He shifts his hand closer when he sees that you’re looking down at it. He’s almost touching you and you look up to his eyes, wondering if he’ll close the distance. He makes an imperceptible shake of his head, but you know what he means. As you’re about to shift your hand so that your pinky connects with his, Mitch returns and your head shoots up to his figure. You instantly remove your hand from the vinyl and shift closer to Charlotte. Harry gets up, but doesn’t sit back down once Mitch is settled. He instead walks off to get another drink, risking one last look at the table where he makes eye contact with you, but he doesn’t come back. Mitch informs everyone that Harry went back to the hotel because “he was tired” after Harry doesn’t return and Mitch gets a text. You roll your eyes, sure that you saw him slip out of the side door with a woman he found at the bar after he had gotten his drink. If that’s what ‘tired’ looked like on Harry, it was fine.
You start to speak to Harry on a more regular basis after that night out. It’s not funny or lighthearted. It’s just ‘I saw this song the other day, thought you might like to listen’. It went back and forth, it wasn’t everyday but it was something. The last text between the two of you before you began sharing songs again was his ‘I’m trying it’s just hard’ text that he had sent randomly one night. Then after one of you would listen, you would see each other at sound check and mention the song and what you thought about it. It can be noted that it was Harry who sent the first song.
For Harryween, Adam couldn’t be there. He has some family emergency the day of and doesn’t come with the rest of you to Madison Square Garden or the hotel you were staying at. Thankfully, Charlotte also plays keys and you can play bass. The band had to shift around some things on stage and make minimal changes to the setlist since you weren’t rehearsed on the covers Harry was doing. You spent the whole day running through the chords of those songs with Mitch, trying to memorize them so you didn’t mess it up during the show.
It was weird because for Harryween the setlist was switched up a little from the regular set for Love On Tour. Harry was playing the entire new album as well as half of the first album, Medicine, some of his other unreleased stuff, and about six covers, including old One Direction songs. It was going to be a long show and a challenge for you.
Before the show, Harry pulls you aside, to a dark corner backstage, and your mind flits back to the last time you had been in this type of position. The last time he had called you ‘love’, the last time you bit his earlobe - which always drove him crazy, the last time he ground his hips against yours, those and more and you had no idea that it was the last. By then you had already had sex with Harry for the last time, kissed his lips for the last time. It made your heart race to be so close to him and so alone once again. But it’s nowhere near the same as it once was. You shake the memories from your mind and look up expectantly at him.
“Have you got this?” He asks seriously, tone concerned. Of course it’s a music question, nothing more. Like it always was now.
“Yeah, of course.” His stare is unwavering and you try not to falter from it.
“I can get someone else to cover tomorrow, it was just such a short notice today. You know bass really well too, it made sense.”
“I’ve got this. Seriously, don’t worry, Harold.” You pat his chest lightly and for once Harry smiles at the sound of your nickname for him. You had stopped using it after the end of your arrangement. It never felt right to use when you were talking about music, and that was about the only time you had been talking. In this moment though, it felt right. His warm, large hands held your upper arms as you stared up into his big eyes. You missed staring into them, the shimmering emerald of his irises were constantly intriguing. You instinctively reach up to move back a curl that has fallen onto his forehead. He doesn’t shy away from your touch and continues to smile down at you.
“Y’haven’t called me that in forever.” He grins, his lips a shiny pink from the lip balm he had on.
“No, I suppose I haven’t. But where was the groan? The whole point is to annoy you.” You smile coyly. He tips his head back and laughs, releasing your arms from his grasp as he laughs wholeheartedly.
Then he does a soft groan, a playful sound, “How was that?”
“Eh. I’ll give you a four out of ten. Not enough emotion behind it.” You slide from the area the two of you have been occupying and make your way onto the stage to start dealing with the bass you would be playing. You hear Harry call out to you, “I think I deserve at least a five, maybe even a six!” You turn back for a second to look at him with an unimpressed expression and shake your head no. He laughs again and you hear him even when you walk out onto the stage. You smile to yourself as you pick up the bass.
When he introduces the band, he waits to talk about you last. “And sadly this evening Mr. Adam Prentergest, our usual fabulous bassist, was unable to attend our fancy dress party! However! Our lovely Y/N L/N is also a superb bassist and was kind enough to step into his place. - Anything to add?” He saunters across the stage to you and you laugh kindly, feeling at ease in this part of the stage even though you were usually on the opposite side and further back from the crowd. You nod at Harry and he leans his portable mic towards your lips. You wet them quickly and eye Harry before turning out to the crowd. “Just please go easy on me if the bass sounds a bit wonky. It wasn’t on the job description that I’d be playing songs I didn’t know, with a few hours notice, on not my main instrument.” You say this in a kind of list format, holding up your fingers as you tick off all the ways that this was out of your comfort zone. You scratch your head dramatically after you’re finished and the whole crowd laughs and cheers. The rest of your bandmates chuckle along and Harry nods and smiles at you.
“You’ll do great, love.” He leans into your ear and says without the microphone. Then he winks and turns to go back to the center of the stage. You press your lips together to contain your smile, both happy and concerned about the flip your stomach just did.
The show is going great. Harry is killing it with the crowd. Everything is electric. You’re entirely focussed on your bass playing, but Harry has been coming over every so often to do something fun or have you tell a joke.
“She’s truly the funniest person I know! And I know a fair amount of people I think.” Harry says as he walks over to you have you tell another joke. Mitch has been looking at you and Harry interacting all night and he’s sure that it isn’t your different position that has him coming over and talking to you so much tonight. Something has definitely changed once again. First the pair of you were always together and having fun, then it was silence and stolen glances that neither of you realized you were taking, now it was back to the beginning.
“That’s because you think puns are part of the top tier levels of comedy.” You say easily, “Here, I can guarantee Harry will love this and the rest of you will likely groan.” Then you stop and act as if you’re thinking for a little, everyone’s waiting expectantly. “Sorry, thinking...Well, I’ve got some skeleton puns I could do, they’re very humerus or y’know classic vampire ones..eh but those ones kind of suck. What do you think, Harry?” You look out at the crowd, face deadpan, as Harry laughs beside you. You roll your eyes playfully and push him back to the center of the stage. Leaning into your own mic now, you say, “I told you.” That’s when everyone laughs. Harry throws another look at you over his shoulder and laughs a little more, his smile wide and eyes bright.
A little over half way through the night, it’s time for ‘to be so lonely’. You already knew the bass chords for it before today and you were confident in yourself by now. It wasn’t as hard a song so you were happy for the little break. This song allowed you to not be looking down at the notes you had stuck to the floor in front of you. Harry’s voice comes in after Mitch’s intro and you watch the way his lips move against his mic. You laugh a little as you watch the crowd yell the first “arrogant son of a bitch” line. You used to not particularly like when people did that, but after it had ended with Harry you had started to enjoy it a bit more. Having those people yell the words you couldn’t, but truly felt about him sometimes, was cathartic. Tonight you weren’t angry with him, but you enjoyed the energy in the room when everyone said it. We’ve all got our own ‘arrogant son of a bitch’ that we want to scream at sometimes. Tonight yours wasn’t Harry for the first time in a long time. The song moves along and Harry takes the microphone off its stand, he walks towards your side of the stage. When the lyrics get to:
“I miss the shape of your lips, your wit, it’s just a trick, this is it so I’m sorry”
Harry isn’t looking at the crowd, he’s looking straight at you. You don’t understand the way he’s looking at you. Or maybe you don’t want to understand it. This song, its lyrics, explains Harry really well. You saw the relationship you had with him in the words. Maybe not precisely, but a part of it was in it. Harry had unknowingly foretold your lives with his words. You know he has trouble connecting and committing, you know his issues, and you accept them. But you knew what had happened between the two of you was far more serious than meaningless sex and you knew Harry couldn’t bring himself to be that serious. He ran off and that was fine, but the face that he couldn’t even apologize hurt you the most. But the song lays it all out for you, he’s not one to be able to apologize quickly. The fact that he looks at you and means the apology he sings in the song for you, it’s a big step, but it’s not enough. The banter, the technical apology, it was all a good start, but it’s just that - the beginning. If Harry wants to make things better with you, a lot more needs to be discussed. So when you sing backing vocals for the following chorus you mean the words for Harry completely.
“Don’t call me baby again, you got your reasons, I know that you’re trying to be friends. I know you mean it, but don’t call me baby again it’s hard for me to go home and be so lonely”
His eyes flick to you again and see your lips moving around the words as you play the bass. He sees the emotion in your face and understands what you’re saying. It’s hard for you to go to your room at night and be alone while he’s out with someone else. It’s hard for him to act like everything’s all fine and perfect, back to normal, because for you it isn’t really. He can’t call you ‘love’ and tell the world you’re funny and expect it to be enough. He can’t sing his sorry that was initially for someone else to you and expect you to accept it. And he knows it, too.
After the show everyone decides they’re exhausted and need to rest before tomorrow. You all planned to celebrate the whole day and you knew it was going to be a wicked Halloween. Knowing this, you’re surprised with the knock on your door after about an hour of being back at the hotel. You’ve given up the habit you had once hoped to cultivate and swing the door open haplessly. Truly having no idea who to expect, you are still surprised to find the man standing before you.
“Mitch.”
“We need to talk.” He stares down at you, his shoulders slumped from tiredness.
“Come in,” you usher him in when you hear the urgency of his voice. He saunters in before you and you close the door. You move to the small couch in the room and sit down. Your hands gesture for him to sit as well, but he shakes his head. He stays standing and brings a hand up to smooth his hair back on the right side. His eyes staying on the floor and flickering up to you every so often.
“What is going on with you and Harry?”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh come on Y/N. You’re seemingly best friends with him for a good portion of tour, then you’re barely on speaking terms for the second half, now you’re joking around again. What is going on?”
You sit there in a stunned silence, “I don’t know what to say.” Your arms go to hug your body, feeling anxious about being confronted about this topic.
“Were you seeing each other?” His voice is soft, eyes taking in your body language and knowing it’s a difficult topic.
“I wouldn’t put it like that…”
He holds back the ‘I knew it’ statement because of how sullen you look, b..ut in his mind all of the pieces he had watched unfold came to fit in a perfect puzzle. He decides to sit beside you when you don’t say anything else.
“We were having sex,” it felt weird to say it out loud, no one but you and Harry had actually known, “But it ended. I don’t know what today was...but it felt different than how it’s been.”
“Why are you so sad if it was just sex?” He places a hand on your shoulder and your tear-filled eyes meet his. “Oh…” He knows why.
“I’m sorry, Y/N.” You sob at his apology because he’s not the one who should be at your door apologizing. You sniffle and lean your head into his chest. He takes you into his arms and holds you as your cries become muffled sounds in his shirt.
You cry without words for a few minutes, Mitch coos some soothing words, his voice soft and kind. He was always a good shoulder to cry on for all of your bandmates, he was extremely strong and you made a mental note to thank him thoroughly when you actually were capable of forming coherent thoughts. “I’ve never told anyone before. It feels so weird even saying it out loud,” you say as you pull back from Mitch’s embrace. You're thankful his shirt is black, no tear stains can be made out.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks gently, gauging your reaction. You wipe at your eyes and nod.
Taking a deep breath, you decide to start from the beginning. “Do you remember the party Charlotte had a week before we left for tour?”
Mitch nods and his eyes widen at what you’re saying as he remembers the night. “It started back then?” He’s unable to contain his incredulous question. He had suspected something, but hadn’t thought it had been going on for that long. He was truly astounded. You nod, “Well sort of,” then you go on to recount the last couple of months. All the way up until the Forum shows. “That night, when I opened Harry’s door and it was you standing there...Harry and I didn’t have anything to discuss. It was just…” Mitch nods again. He hadn’t spoken much since you had gotten into the story, wanting to let you be in charge of what you were saying and believing he could probably ask questions at the end. “Then the next night he blew me off for his date with that model and I cried in the elevator because I knew what was going to happen next.”
“So that’s when it ended?” Mitch asks when you don’t speak for a rather extended period of time.
“Yeah, the next morning he came over and I asked if they had sex and he said yes so I told him it was over.”
“But I don’t get why he went out with that model. He had told me she wasn’t his type the night before…” Your eyes shot up and looked at Mitch. His eyes widened when he realized what he said.
“What?”
“When we were talking about Canyon Moon, he mentioned that Jeff had tried to set him up with some woman but he had declined. Said he wasn’t interested. I don’t get what changed between then and the next morning.” He figured it was best to put all the cards out on the table right now. You’d be going your separate ways for a while, now that the tour was over and he had seen how unhappy both you and Harry had been over the last part of the tour.
You shift your leg to have it folded beneath you as you continue to stare at Mitch. “He came over after you and him had your meeting,” you say quietly. Mitch hums, waiting for you to continue this time.
“He apologized for choosing you over me to talk to. Then we slept together, but we didn’t have sex...I think that’s what wigged him. It had felt too real, sleeping in the same bed with me without having sex beforehand made it feel like something more than just two people fulfilling needs.” Mitch nods and sighs heavily. He looks around the room and then back to you, taking in your full appearance. Again he feels terrible for you, how he had felt the second night at the Forum even though he hadn’t known the full story yet. “Now we’re here.”
“Tonight, it felt like he was trying,” Mitch finally said and you smiled sweetly, thinking back to Harry’s behavior. No matter how far from him you were, all those good feelings you associated with him never went away.
“Yeah, it’s been getting better. He texted me once saying he was trying. Then he came out with us one night and it almost seemed like that would be the night he’d apologize, but then he didn’t. Then we started sharing music with each other again. Then tonight… was tonight. It’s just confusing. He’s confusing.”
Mitch smiles sadly and brings you in for another hug and you’re actually so thankful he
showed up at your door. It was your first time telling anyone all of this, because Harry didn’t even know how you felt about some of these things. It felt amazing to be heard and to be told it was okay to be feeling like this.
Pulling back, Mitch says, “He’s definitely different. But his differences are what make him special and that’s why I think he clings to them even if they sometimes can hurt other people. The fact that he’s trying is a good sign. I hope he can find it in himself to make it right between you two because I had never seen either of you happier than when you were apparently together. Especially those few weeks leading up to Los Angeles. Sarah had kept asking me why Harry was so smiley back then. When I had asked him, he had just said “have you ever found something and realized you wanted to keep it with you forever?” I had no idea what he had meant, but I feel like he meant you now.”
Your awestruck at what Mitch has just told you. He was right about the first part about Harry trying to change, but the last bit, that’s what had left you speechless. You turn your body to face the rest of the room and put your chin against your hand as you think.
“Mitch...I have to go.”
He understands what you mean and you walk out of the door with him. He walks down the hall to his room and you walk quickly past the elevator and opt for the stairs. Before you know it you’re running up the stairs, taking two at a time even though you’re not the most athletically inclined. You can’t stand to wait for the elevator and your mind is racing.
You knock on the door that is Harry’s after reaching his floor. It swings open and reveals a confused and sleepy Harry. Thankfully he’s still fully dressed because that would have been a whole other problem you would have if he hadn’t been. You push past him and walk straight into his room without any invitation. He follows behind you, still unsure of why you’ve come here.
“Have you ever found something and realized you want to keep it forever?” You ask him, repeating the words Mitch had just told you.
“Pardon?”
“You told Mitch that about me before we ended things. If that’s how you felt, why didn’t you do what you said?”
Harry sighs as the words register in his mind. The memory of when he had smiled at Mitch so giddily and asked the vague question, his thoughts only of you as he asked it. The shit-eating grin he had plastered on his face after Mitch had looked at him confusedly flitted across his mind. As well as the way he had gone to his dressing room and had a quickie with you after that conversation.
“It’s not that simple…”
“It is, Harry! Why can’t you just be honest with me for once?”
“Okay, fine. You want me to be honest?” you nod at his harsh tone. The two of you standing only a few feet apart. “You have no goddamn idea what you do to me, when I’m around you, I have no control of my emotions or of my thoughts. I pushed you away because I didn’t like feeling out of control. I got out because what had started as a fun time had turned into me longing to be with you every waking hour. I found myself not caring what we did as long as I got to hold you and be around you, but that wasn’t part of the plan.”
“Plans can change, Harry.”
You step closer to him and he meets your eyes. He had left his music playing softly on his phone before he had opened the door so now as the two of you stared at each other, he must have been playing his Etta James playlist because her voice faded out of the song “I’d Rather Go Blind” and straight into “A Sunday Kind of Love”. Harry had shared her At Last album with you over the Christmas holiday of last year and you had decided to listen to her entire discography afterwards, so you knew the songs. The transition was a little too on the nose and you wondered if Spotify ever listened to your conversations.
His emerald eyes examine your face and take inventory of your features, measuring whether anything had changed since he had looked at you this close up. Your hand goes up to cup his cheek and he nuzzles into it, dropping his head closer to you ever so slightly and closing his eyes at the feeling of you.
“I am sorry,” he whispers earnestly as he reopens his eyes.
You can’t take your eyes off of him even if you tried. He looks so soft in the moment, so vulnerable in this light as the music swells in the corner of the room. Etta sings about how she needs a love that is going to last as the pair of you inch yourselves closer together.
“I forgive you, Harry,” you whisper back.
He nudges his head further down and your lips finally press together, slotting back together after months apart. Your lips are eager to press back against their favorite companion. You oblige them, but pull back for a second, just far enough to say, “I will always forgive you, so long as you tell me when you’re scared so we can work through it together.”
He nods, “I promise to never let you go again.” Before taking you back against his lips and gathering your body up in his arms. His lips missing yours just as much.
-
#fallinharry10k#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fan fic#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut#harry styles angst#long one shot#first fic in awhile#pls lemme know what you think#I've missed putting work out#im equally nervous and excited#harry styles one shot#harry styles oneshot#harry styles imagine#am I forgetting tags??#can't remember#oh well#def meant to call this keep it forever but forgot#oops#also lots of mitch#bc I love Mitch Rowland with my whole heart
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A New Song
thank you to @to-be-frank-i-dont-care for beta reading!!!
“Paris, my name is Forte.” The akuma tugged on the collar of their suit. “For too long people have been listening to modern music rather than the classics. People prefer to listen to songs that are completely electronic than to works done by Hayden and Mozart. This shall happen no longer. I am-”
Ladybug jumped down on the rooftop where Chat Noir was already waiting. He was barely visible in the dark, but she could always find her kitty. Because he was a very good friend. Not that there was another reason.
Ladybug looked over at the villain who was still monologuing and then over at Chat Noir. “How long has he-”
“Ten minutes. Ten minutes listening to him say modern music is crap.” Chat Noir subtly rolled his eyes.
“Well, he must be fun at parties.”
Chat Noir laughed. “He hasn’t even attacked anyone yet. He should be easy to defeat.”
Ladybug smirked. “Let’s get this over with.”
The two of them jumped to the street below. Parisians sat in their cars, honking their horns because the roads were blocked. No one was fazed that there was a supervillain.
“Oi, Falsetto,” Chat Noir called out. “Shows over. It’s time to pack your bags.”
Forte looked over at them. His mouth twisted into a sneer. “My name is Forte. For too long-”
“Yes, we get the picture. Modern society has destroyed music. No one cares for the classics. Oh no!”
Ladybug stifled a laugh. Chat Noir always looked so cute whenever he got annoyed. CURIOUS. She meant curious. It was always curious to see a different side of him.
Yeah, that was exactly what she meant… Totally… Because she was in love with someone else and that person happened to be Adrien Agreste who was in no way Chat Noir.
Ladybug was glad that Chat Noir couldn’t read minds because he might have gotten the wrong idea. In no way of the word did she find him cute. He was anything but.
Ladybug caught her gaze traveling down to his butt.
She forced herself to look back at the akuma. It was not appropriate for her to be looking there. Though she had to admit that his butt was cute. But nothing else. Not his face or anything. Nope.
He just wasn’t. Yep. It was just a fact.
Ladybug lightly shook her head when she realized that she had tuned out of the conversation. She started to listen again right when Forte was saying “What? You think you can beat me in a piano playing competition?”
Chat Noir leaned against a car and casually started to swing his tail around. “I don’t think so. I know so. In order to truly understand music you must be able to embrace all types whether you like the style or not.”
Ladybug bit her lip. Dang he was cute. NO. CUTE WAS THE WRONG WORD. He was…somewhat good looking for a guy, but no. Adrien was the only one who had her heart.
She zoned out again.
“Then the battle is on!” Forte yelled. “We shall see who is triumphant! I shall see you on the dueling ground!”
“You’re on.”
Ladybug scrunched up her eyebrows as the supervillain started to walk away. “What’s happening?”
Chat Noir looked at her, surprised. “You weren’t paying attention? Okay, well, he and I are going to be competing in a piano duel. First one to make a mistake loses. If we win we get his akuma but if he wins he gets my miraculous.”
Ladybug resisted the urge to smack him on the side of the head. “You’re joking.”
Chat Noir smirked. “Relax. Only my miraculous is part of the deal. There is nothing to worry about.”
“Okay. Where is this duel taking place?”
“Wow, you were really tuned out. There are two pianos in the Place de Vosges that were recently donated. We are going to be fighting there.” He held out his arm to her. “Shall we?”
Ladybug rolled her eyes. “I’d love to.”
…
A crowd had gathered to watch the fight. People had their phones out, waiting to record the thing. Alya was at the very front, already streaming live to the Ladyblog about the fight and the important details needed before watching.
Ladybug looked over at the pianos. Donated by Gabriel Agreste for those lacking style. She smiled. Adrien…Radiant…Carefree…Dreamy…
Forte cracked his knuckles. “We might as well get this over with. Shadowmoth is already on my back for taking so long.”
The two sat down in front of their pianos. Chat Noir’s hands hovered slightly over the keys before he placed his hands down.
Forte started a split second before Chat Noir. The crowd went silent as music filled the air. Each of them played wildly different songs, but somehow the notes blended together. Instead of the notes combining to make noise, a new song was born.
Ladybug’s jaw dropped as Chat Noir’s fingers danced across the keys. Since when could he do this? She kept expecting his claws to get in the way, but it never happened.
Snow started falling. Ladybug resisted the urge to brush it out of his hair.
She sat down on the ground, letting the music draw her in. The street lights fell on Chat Noir and Forte, focusing on them even with the crowds of people.
And that was when Ladybug realized that Chat was hot.
A blush crept up her cheeks. The smirk on his face. The casual glances up to the villain just to say that he wasn’t intimidated. His foot tapping along with the beat.
Somehow, somehow, Chat was hotter than a literal model.
Ladybug drew her legs to her chest. The song grew faster and more upbeat. Chat Noir smiled, his teeth showing.
Ladybug bit her lip. It wasn’t fair that he could be this cute. There, she admitted it. Chat Noir was cute.
The song lasted for several hours, but eventually Forte stopped playing and grabbed his wrist. He realized his mistake a second too late.
“No, wait, it was just a cramp. That doesn’t count.”
Chat Noir stopped playing and looked up at him. “The rules were clear. You lose.”
“What? No.” Forte paused before hanging his head. “Fine. You win.” He handed his glasses to Chat Noir.
“We should play together again sometime. And you should give modern music a chance.” Chat handed the glasses to Ladybug who snapped it in half and caught the akuma.
“Bye bye, little butterfly.”
Chat Noir sat down by Ladybug as the crowd slowly disappeared. “Are you cold?” He asked after everyone was gone. “Your cheeks are red.”
Ladybug stood up laughing. “Maybe a bit.” She pulled him up so they were standing together. She bit her tongue, unsure about whether or not she was making a mistake, but this might be the only chance she got.
“Bugaboo?”
Before she could second guess herself she kissed him. It was a small thing, barely a peck, but warmth flooded her face. “I guess you were okay.” She left before he could say anything, leaving him in the park with a smile on his face.
#sup yall im back on my bullshit#miraculous ladybug#miraculous ladybug crack#miraculous ladybug fluff#miraculous ladybug fanfiction#ladynoir#chat noir plays the piano for ladybug#ladybug has feelings for chat noir#ladybug represses her feelings her chat noir#ladybugs feelings hits her over the head with a baguette#ladybug#chat noir#cat noir
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girl in the mirror | DRACO MALFOY
MASTERLIST
PAIRING: Draco Malfoy x Muggle!Reader
WORD COUNT: 2.1k
SUMMARY: in which draco and y/n are soulmates and can hear each others’ music, and you’ve been blasting sad songs all week, worrying draco.
WARNINGS: one mean joke about americans sozzles
A/N: based on the tiktoks where soulmates can hear each others’ music. i dont think ive seen an imagine like that on here so i thought i’d write one :)) also set in 2010s
In the Wizarding world, on your thirteenth birthday, you are officially bound to your soulmate. This means different things for different wizards and witches, depending on what they valued. For example, when Blaise Zabini turned thirteen, he was able to see his soulmate in mirrors-- fitting considering how self-obsessed he was.
Draco, however, heard music. You must be obsessed with it, he realised. He found out he was right pretty quickly, waking up to the sound of your playlists muffled in his ears and falling asleep to them too.
It was always Muggle music too. You must be a half-blood, or even… Merlin forbid, a Muggle-born. Realising that his soulmate wasn’t going to be a pure-blood like his parents had planned, Draco kept the news to himself and worked on his vocabulary. He tried his best to bite his tongue around Granger, ignoring his friends when they made fun of their ‘dirty’ blood.
He didn’t want to hurt you when he got to meet you.
It took Draco longer than it should have to realise you definitely didn’t go to Hogwarts. How could you when he’d be sat in assemblies, the room so silent you could hear a pin drop, and all he’d hear is the thumping of your music in his ears as if he was underwater?
“She’s probably an American,” Pansy pretends to gag, the others laughing with her.
“Could be a Beauxbaton,” Blaise suggests.
Draco doesn’t like to make assumptions, but he thinks you are definitely a Muggle. It’s rare, but not unheard of in the Wizarding world, especially nowadays. For the Malfoys, though, it would be an outrage.
You play your music the most when he’s eating dinner in the Great Hall or when he’s getting ready for bed.
At first, he hated it. He hated your music, he hated how his head was rarely ever quiet, and he hated that he didn’t know who you were in order to beg you to take your headphones out for once.
However, Draco learnt to love your music. Songs and bands he’d never heard of before quickly became his favourites and eventually, he found himself humming your Muggle tunes in the common room or quietly singing along in his dorm when the other boys were out doing whatever.
He learned to love having your music in his head, especially as the years rolled on and his life became harder and harder. It made him feel like he was never alone, your muffled melodies making a home in his head and pushing out all of his anxiety and depression.
Draco wanted to dance with you to them. He liked to lay in bed at night and listen to your songs and imagine that you’re lying next to him. He bets you have a nice singing voice. Maybe you can even play an instrument or two. Maybe you could teach him how to play the guitar, and maybe he could show you how to play his favourite pieces on the piano.
Your music is never too upbeat, but today Draco feels like he hasn’t heard a single song that wasn’t about being sad. As he trudged from class to class, Draco couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong with you. It had been going on for the past few days, and the music stopped altogether on one of the days.
He went to bed with an empty head for the first time in a few years, staring at his ceiling. He plugged his iPod in and went to the Muggle section, playing a few of your favourite songs. It wasn’t the same.
“What’s up with you?” Blaise demands as Draco doesn’t touch his meal for the second time that day.
Draco glances to his friend and looks away, shaking his head. “Mind your own business, Zabini,” he mutters weakly.
Blaise’s soulmate, a Slytherin in the year below, joins them at sitting on the table and Blaise immediately forgets all about Draco, the two of them giggling as they hug each other. Draco thought he could throw up right there and then, shaking his head in disgust.
Green was Draco’s colour and Merlin was he jealous.
Why did you have to be a stupid Muggle?
Draco immediately feels bad for even thinking it. He wants to hug you and kiss the top of your head and mutter apology after apology. The soft feeling makes him feel weak. You did things to him that nobody else did, and he doesn’t even know who you were. The fact that you were most likely going through a rough time right now made it ten times worse.
“What’s wrong with Draco?” He hears Zabini’s girl whisper.
“Why don’t you ask me yourself?” Draco snaps, lip curling in disgust. “Instead of talking behind my back like a coward!”
“Draco,” Blaise growls. “I don’t know what’s up with you, mate, but you need to calm down.”
“It’s your soulmate, isn’t it?” Pansy quirks an eyebrow from opposite them. “Are they playing that rubbish song you hate on repeat again?”
“No,” Draco hisses in defence of you. “I like that song, thank you.”
Pansy holds her hands up. “Okay, whatever. Sorry, Malfoy. What has got your knickers in a twist, then?”
He hesitates. He doesn’t like talking about you to anybody else but he’s really worried and he thinks maybe one of them might be able to help.
“She’s…” Draco’s eyes drift to burn holes in the table in front of him. “She’s been listening to sad songs.”
Goyle snorts, making Draco’s head snap to him in fury.
“Sorry, Malfoy, sorry… But that does sound ridiculous, mate,” Goyle admits. “She’s probably just into that… genre?”
“No, you don’t understand,” Draco huffs and shakes his head. “You don’t know her like I do. Something’s wrong with her, I can tell.”
“Well, why don’t you visit her?” Blaise asks, grabbing a grape and popping into his mouth.
“What?” Draco spits. “Is that a joke, Zabini? I don’t find it funny--”
“I’m not joking,” Blaise frowns. “Merlin’s sake, Malfoy. Do you not pay attention in Charms?”
“Of course I do,” Draco hesitates, lying. “But what are you talking about, anyway?”
…
Draco feels ridiculous as he stands in front of the mirror in the bathrooms later that night. It’s silent since it’s the middle of the night, but Draco knows you’re awake because of the glum music playing faintly in his ears.
He wants to visit you like Blaise told him to do, and as he stands in front of the mirror and casts his incantations, he can’t help but wonder if this is a setup. He doesn’t give his hopes up, doesn’t hold his breath that when he opens his eyes you’ll be on the other side of the mirror.
But he wants you to be. He wants you to be there so badly.
Draco does sort of believe it so he put on his black turtleneck and black suit and combed his hair like usual, replacing the uniform and robes he’d been wearing all day. He doesn’t want you to see him and be disappointed.
He knows he won’t be disappointed no matter what you look like or what you are.
Draco takes a deep breath as he lowers his wand and closes his eyes. When he counts down and opens his eyes, he’s stunned into silence by the sight in front of him. His heart skips a beat and he nearly chokes on his own spit.
Staring back at him in the mirror is not his own pale reflection but what looks like a bedroom. The mirror glows orange from the lighting and he can see that it’s decorated with posters and records and other Muggle things. Draco doesn’t even process that you’re a confirmed Muggle at this point, he doesn’t care enough about that.
On a single bed in the middle of the room, sat up in the very centre with headphones in and a laptop in front of her, is a girl his age. She’s got beautiful y/s/c skin and y/c/h locks that have been thrown up into a messy bun, her y/c/e trained on the screen in front of her as she watches what he assumes is a film or a tv show.
She’s wearing a school uniform, not quite as posh as Hogwarts’, and it’s slightly crumpled from sitting in her bed with it on. Her polished black shoes are nowhere to be seen, rips in the bottom of her tights no doubt from wearing them thin five days a week.
Draco can’t believe he’s looking at you right now. He reaches his hand out, eyes widening when his fingers seem to slip past the glass and he’s sucked into another world-- your world. He wasn’t expecting it to happen, a small yelp leaving his lips as he tumbles straight out of the mirror hanging on your wall and onto your carpet.
You both scream as you make eye contact and you’ve thrown your laptop about in a panic. There’s no music in his ears now that he stands in front of you. Draco breathes heavily, unsure what to say.
“Um, hello?” He offers.
“What the hell?” You yell. “What are you doing in my bedroom? Who are you? My laptop!”
You ignore him as you dive off of the bed and pick it up. The screen is smashed making you glare at him harder.
“I’m sorry!” Draco practically squeaks. “I- I have Galleons--”
“Who are you?” You cut him off roughly.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Draco keeps repeating, hoping you will calm down. “I-I’m Draco Malfoy.”
“Draco Malfoy?” You repeat with a mocking laugh. “Is that a joke?”
“No,” he replies, voice pitched higher than usual with offence. “What’s your name?”
Normally you wouldn’t tell a stranger your name, but this situation is anything but normal. You stare at the boy for a few seconds, wondering why he feels familiar. There’s something about him that has you relaxing under his gaze, which is weird because he literally just appeared out of nowhere.
“Y/N Y/L/N,” you reply sceptically.
Draco smiles, “beautiful name.”
“Are you like a nonce or something?”
“Nonce?” Draco crinkles his nose in confusion.
You narrow your brows at him. “You’re literally British-- how do you not know what that means?”
“I’m not… I don’t really come from your kind of England,” Draco doesn’t know how to explain there is an entire world she’s been hidden from-- this is the first Muggle he’s ever had a conversation with.
“Are you Welsh?”
“Do I sound Welsh to you?” Draco cocks his head to the side, already amused.
“Sometimes I can’t tell the difference, not gonna lie,” you reply. “But no. I’m sure you’re English. You sound like you’re a private school kid or something.”
“I guess I am,” Draco replies quietly, looking around your bedroom and taking in all of the colours that it has.
You seem to snap out of whatever daze you were in. “Hey! You distracted me. Now tell me what the hell you��re doing in my bedroom before I call the police.”
Draco’s tongue darts out to wet his lips as he contemplates his next words. He hesitates and sits down on your bed next to you. You can smell his cologne-- it smells much more expensive than the Lynx sprays the boys at college seem to be obsessed with.
“Do you ever hear music in your ears?” He asks, watching your eyes widen in conformation. “You do. That’s… that’s me. My music. I hear your music too. You listen to it all the time. Um… normally a lot of bands and stuff.”
There’s a long silence. “Do you have me on Spotify?”
“What’s Spotify?” Draco’s nose crinkles.
“You probably just see what I listen to on Spotify!” You claim, standing up as you become weary of the boy on your bed.
Draco still doesn’t quite understand your Muggle terminology, but he gets the gist of what you’re trying to imply.
“That doesn’t explain the music you hear in your head from me,” Draco tries. “Or how I just came out of your mirror.”
You look overwhelmed. “What are you?” You whisper.
“We, Y/N, are soulmates.”
...
yuh
PART TWO HERE
#draco malfoy#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy imagine#draco#malfoy#harrypotter#harry potter#dracotok#blaise zabini#pansy parkinson#gregory goyle#soulmates au#soulmate au#harry potter imagine#harry potter au#draco malfoy au
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day and night
inspired by the duality of insecurity and appreciation, and the way they often reflect each other in ways you wouldn’t expect
do i already have a fic called day and night? i dont know and at this point im too afraid to check
akaashi keiji x gender neutral reader
word count: 1356
tags: fluff, descriptions of akaashi’s insecurity, established relationship, cuddling, this is a fic about me and akaashi
if u see any typos no u didn’t.
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He hated the way his mind became so empty in moments like these.
The bedside lamp shouldn’t be on, not so late, not while you were sleeping, but you never complained when you heard the flip of the switch and the opening of Keiji’s book. You slept through it. You tended to do that.
Why?
He couldn’t figure it out. The reason you looked over everything he did wrong hid from him. It made no sense, really, the way you ate his over cooked meals with a straight face, or how you patiently undid the way he folded your clothes and fixed them to your liking, or when you slept with the light on while he read even though he knew you hated it.
You hated it. His cooking and his folding and his light, his mismatched socks and his new cologne and his impatience. Keiji sat, and he watched you sleeping, his book in his lap and his glasses sliding off the bridge of his nose, knowing you hated all of these things about himself that he wouldn’t change, and still, there wasn’t a thought going through his head. His book had been forgotten. He was just looking at you.
You put up with a lot. Likely too much. His alarm clock woke you up early while he slept right through it. Texts you send throughout the day go unnoticed by him. Late nights at work keep you up and waiting for him, just to watch him lock himself up in his office for another three hours of work.
It wasn’t like these traits about him were new, but they were louder, now. They were blaring and obvious and bothersome and every positive thing he brought to this relationship seemed so goddamn quiet.
That’s how Keiji felt. Quiet. It wasn’t an emotion, yet it was the only word he could think of to describe this insignificance. Maybe fragile was a better word.
He closed his book. He placed it on the nightstand and let his glasses join it. Finally the light could be turned off, and maybe you would sleep more peacefully now. He threw his arm over your waist and pulled your back against his chest, trying to rid all of that distance, trying to fill the silence with your warmth.
He’d lay awake for another hour.
-
You heard it before your mind and body even woke up, and you knew what it was without needing to come out of your dream: that damn alarm.
God, was it loud - it pierced your ears, it seemed loud enough to shake the walls and damage your hearing, and maybe it was because you had just woken up, but you could hardly stand it.
Opening your eyes was the hardest thing you had ever done. Everything was fuzzy and foggy, you tried to blink it away but you couldn’t, and all you cared about was getting rid of that noise.
You climbed over a still sleeping Keiji to reach his phone and shut it off, knowing that the alarm would ring again in ten minutes time, and your energy had run out. You collapsed on top of him, the crook of his neck becoming your new pillow and his chest your mattress.
In a sleepy daze you wore a smile, wondering how on Earth he sleeps so soundly through the loudest alarm you’d ever heard. He doesn’t even move when you land on him, and he only continues to snore when his second alarm rings out.
Like always, you’d let him sleep longer than you should. He’d be running late, but neither of you would care too much. It had become the routine, and you weren’t about to break this habit. You needed the time with him and Keiji needed the sleep.
It was nice to be awake before him, and you had learned to get over the frustration that came with hearing that dreaded alarm clock. It wasn’t very difficult when you got to wake up to Keiji, who was comfort personified. He was the consolation to early, loud mornings.
As you laid there, cuddling into his heated skin, listening to his breathing and his snoring and his heart beating, all you could focus on was how much you missed him.
Sometimes these mornings were all you had with him. Your work schedules didn’t match - granted, Keiji’s schedule matched no one’s - and neither did your sleeping routines. Even when you stayed up late for him, even when he came home for lunch, even when you both had the same day off, there was just never enough time in the day.
You never had enough of him. You wished you could become a sponge and soak all of him up - leave nothing behind, keep all of this golden man to yourself forever. It was a kind of selfishness you’d take pride in, if such an act was possible.
But even though you missed him so much, even though letting him get out of bed every morning was harder than it should have been, you always sent him off with a kiss. You always reminded him you loved him. As proud as you were of yourself for reeling in the prize catch that was Akaashi Keiji, you were infinitely more proud of him - of his drive, of his work, of his charm. Proud of every success and failure. Of everything he provides and everything he strives for. Even as he struggled to tie his necktie in the morning, or missed important deadlines, or let himself become more distant than he should. There was always some amount of pride in there, and you never had to look hard to find it.
Originally, you were going to let him sleep in this morning. He deserved it. But now, the more you thought about it - you’d much rather wake him up early. You deserved it.
Your lips molded to the edge of his jawline as you grabbed his arm, slowly and surely shaking him awake.
“Kei.”
He grunted, then hummed, then whined. He tried to roll over but your weight on top of him held him down, though he hadn’t even realized you were there. Fists dragged along his eyes and feet kicked the blanket away with a big stretch - every morning was the same.
“Gotta get up, babe,” you said before a yawn, and he pretended not to hear you. You only shook his shoulder harder.
“No,” he griped, and finally he opened his eyes, only to shut them tight. “Going in late today.”
“You said you’d make me breakfast.”
“You said you’d rather go without,” he said with a tired laugh trailing his words.
He found the strength to roll the two of you over, tucking himself into you the way you had cuddled into him, and you gave his hair a tug. A warning to say, you better not fall asleep.
“I was kidding,” you said. “Want you to make me something. Please.”
He gave a groan, one you knew meant fine, but his arms tightened around you, and his legs twisted around yours, and he had nothing more to say.
“Keiji.”
“Five minutes, babe.”
Keiji knew the two of you would be there for longer than that, and you did, too. He knew it could’ve been a bother, but you relaxed into bed, anyway, and let him do as he pleased.
“Goodnight, then.”
“Love you.”
You laughed. “Goodnight.”
And he squeezed your waist, making you jump. “Say it back.”
“I will, when you bring me my burnt breakfast in bed.”
“I will,” he sighed. “In five more minutes.”
It wouldn’t be just five more minutes. That would be inevitable. But he would bring you the breakfast he promised, and it would all be as burnt as you expected. That would be inevitable, too.
But you would eat it. And Keiji was glad that all of these things were a cherished certain, things he couldn’t change, things you loved him for even though he tended to lose sleep over them.
He tried his best. And you knew that without being told. And he appreciated it.
#oh my god i would have posted this sooner but my sister wont shut up about kpop drama#also theres a lightning bug in my room#fun huh#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu imagines#akaashi keiji#akaashi keiji x reader#akaashi x reader#scenario#fluff
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Safe Place.
Yakuza! Nanami Kento x gn Reader
Hello everyone, this fic is in collaboration with my dear friend @sunfloweroranges you can read their fic here :D
I kind of changed my writing style for this one, I'm trying out different things so let me know how it goes, feedback is always welcome, that's all from me hope you have a good time reading 💜
Summary: You're clueless
Warnings: mentions of blood, mature themes, mentions of murder and head chopping, language, yandare Nanami if you squint.
Grocery shopping is never fun when you're alone, especially making your way back home in the cold winter months, it gets dark so early.
A slight twist of your gut had made you walk back home in a faster pace. Turning your head every couple of steps, you never saw anything, yet this feeling never left even when you got through the main entrance of your apartment complex.
The elevator was broken once more, and you were already out of breath from rushing back, as you took the first steps up, your next door neighbor, who looked way too scary for your own liking bumped your shoulder on his way down.
Jeez he's in a hurry today.
Mumbling a quick apology, even though he was the one that was at fault, you quickly found the strength to run up the stairs and lock yourself in. Some short of commotion was coming from outside the complex that you didn't really care to hear.
That pink haired guy, your neighbor, who was build like a damn door, always got himself in some short of trouble, hearing him yell profanities or even throwing punches was a far too often occurance.
Why did he have to live right next door?
It's safe to say you did the best to keep the hell away from him, not that he seemed to bother with you, neitherless he was fucking scary.
Kento was ten minutes late, he was never late, except for the days that he had to clean up someone's mess, the days someone underestimated the power he held or the days someone dared speak your name. He wouldn't even tell them 'dont you dare speak their name' or anything along those lines. There was no warning when it came to mentioning yo,u only taking immediate action.
Naturally you were in the dark about all of that, Kento -or Ken as you would often referred to him as- kept you far far away from the darkness of his world. That was his way of keeping you safe and at the same time having you as his personal way out of his work and in his defence he didn't completely lie about his employment. He was an investor, just a bit of a different stock market than what you had in mind.
As far as you knew, Nanami Kento was an extremely successful business man, he chalked up his tattoo covered body as just his preferred style, since he is this good at what he does, he likes to say that his work place doesn't give a damn about his ink covered skin and the expensive gifts that he always pressures you to accept are just another benefit of his high profile job.
"Darling, I hope you didn't start without me." Wrapping your arms around your extremely sweet boyfriend you left a small kiss on his lips watching as the corners tagged upwards in an equally sweet smile the moment your lips left his.
"Of course not Ken, it's Friday remember?" Fridays are the established date nights in, you and Kento cook and dine together. More often than not you end up slow dancing to some jazz, or with you laying on his chest Infront of the fireplace, listening to his heartbeat, talking about life while he strokes your hair until the dawn.
Tossing him an apron, after he -like the gentleman he is- tied yours, you got to work on today's dish: Chorizo carbonara.
"You're never late on Fridays, bad day at work?"
You spoke while slicing some papers.
"Yeah, the stocks are all over the place and it's getting me stressed, but it's our night darling, anything else isn't of importance."
Kento always found a way of distracting you when it came to talking about his day, he is always quite vague and when his palm rested on the small of your back gazing down at you with those adoring eyes, it's hard to keep focused on anything other than him.
"Why don't you tell me about your day love?"
He always asked you that, Kento is in awful need of the calm that the mundane life you live carries. He craves to feel that, he still loves the power he holds over people, the way the mare mention of his name makes others tremble in fear of what the man will do to them shall they not comply to his requests -more accurately orders-
"Thankfully work was pretty good today, I finished grocery shopping so we could cook, I got us that wine you really loved too. The neighbor is being weird again but that's not new, maybe moving out isn't a bad idea."
Everything was like music to Kento's ears untill that last sentence. You had mentioned moving out before, but Kento always found a way to convince you not to. The rent was good, this house is close to your work, he would always reason with you until you changed your mind. He never pushed too hard fearing that you'd suspect something, but you only smiled and ended up agreeing with him.
You see, unbeknownst to you, your weird neighbor is Nanami's most trusted man, he's protecting you twenty four hours a day, even as you walked up the stairs today he dealt with another threat that was headed right your way. No, you cannot move before you know everything, but Nanami can't bring himself to break your bubble, he loves you and you love him, the real him, he would never scare you by letting you take a peek at his point of view. Maybe he should run away with you afterall.
"He doesn't look that bad, love. I'm sure he wouldn't hurt a fly."
Nanami knew he was capable of a lot more than that but it was true, your neighbor was an ally and although he would hurt lots of people, you were on the list of people to be protected and Sukuna took his bosses orders very seriously.
"Besides, my love, anyone would have to get through me first before attempting to lay a finger on you."
With the way his lips moulded on yours and his velvety tone, how could you not believe every single word that just came out of his mouth. Kento would die before letting anything happen to you, that little statement helped bring you comfort.
"You must really love my house Ken, can you pass me the butter?"
The moment your back was turned, Kento let out a breath of relief. That little voice in his head he always pushed away yelled at him to tell you everything, he burried it in the back of his mind once more.
"Can you believe that? I swear she drives me insane- Ken are you listening to me?"
That was weird, Kento always gave you his full attention. Perhaps he was tired today.
"Yes darling, you were talking about that Satoru guy, the one who annoys you at work."
Yeah you were, but that was while you were still eating, about twenty minutes ago.
"Babe, you're tired, let's go to bed, we can pick up where we left off another time, you need to rest."
The habit of staying up all night on Fridays had really stuck, but sleeping when your partner clearly needed to, is very much on schedule although it rarely ever happened.
Getting up from the sofa, tagging at Kento's arm to follow you to the bedroom had Kento irritated at how concerned you grew for him. He still feels you're too good at times, all the time to be exact.
You only heard him sigh before he pulled you back on the sofa, having lost your balance in his sudden move, you landed on top of him.
"Stay with me a little longer my love, I'm sorry I spaced out, I'm all ears for you now."
Another invitation for you to just talk to him, he didn't care about what. Kento loved the tone of your voice, how it changed pitch depending on what emotion you held or what you were talking about. His voice was quite monotone, like everyone else's around him. He had to grow thick skin and throw away all short of feelings, but everything he locked away years ago came rushing back the moment he spilled coffee on you six months ago. You hadn't even complained about the burning sensation on your skin as he helped clean you up, you just gave Kento a smile telling him that everything was fine and these things happen.
In his world they don't, someone can breathe the wrong way and lose their head, all it took was your damn smile and that statement to get him to need something different than what he had. Kento never thought he missed a thing, he found out how wrong he was that very day.
Sometimes he wished he never took the time to help you out back then, but that was only because he didn't know that he'd put you through all this.
"So I'm just sat there in a staring contest over the last price of cake, I won but my eyes still feel a bit dry."
You laughed, Kento stared down at you with a fond smile, your head on his lap and your hands tangled in his, brushing his knuckles and examining every bit of his skin with such care, God you were beautiful all over.
While Kento's hands were very interesting a small detail in the cuff of his shirt got your stomach to drop.
"Ken, is that blood?"
He swore he cleaned up, he always cleaned up before coming back to you, he never missed a single splatter. Maybe rushing home after not one, but two people tried to harm you today put him on edge.
He had missed a single drop. He was absolutely disgusted that even that tiny part of someone who dared to say the name y/n out loud infront of him and even threatened your existence was anywhere near you.
"Sweetheart that's probably tomato sauce from cooking, thanks for pointing it out, you know I hate staining my clothes, I'll go change."
Your meal didn't contain tomato sauce.
Why was your gut telling you that something was off?
Kento seemed a bit tense tonight, was it just a bad day at work?
He never really conversed on his profession. The huge dragon that started from the back of his thigh, ended on his left shoulder covering his entire back was just his 'style'. You swore you heard him talk to the pink haired man who lived next door but he told you he was on the phone. Everything little bit of suspicious behaviour you had previously payed no mind to, came to you. On top of that what was his reason to lie about a drop of blood on his sleeve? He could've said it was a paper cut or something, Why did he lie?
Behind the bathroom door Kento only cursed at him self.
Why didn't he lie better?
#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#nanami x reader#nanami kento#nanami kento x reader#yakuza nanami#au nanami kento#jjk drabbles#jjk anime#jujutsu kaisen drabbles#jujutsu kaisen oneshot
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Can I request a All Might x reader where class 1-A finds out hes dating someone whose quirk is a siren (Can control someone when they sing)? Maybe the students reaction especially Midoryia?
I don’t know if I did this one justice hahah but I did my best!
AllMight x reader (I went for gn but I might have slipped up in a few places just let me know)
Hero name: Sirenity
“Okay class today we are having a surprise special guest coming to talk to you guys” Aizawa sounds completely uninterested in this day and honestly he did feel like it was a drag, but he figures with your lecture and answering questions he could buy at least a 30-40 minute nap, at best you’d take up the whole hour. That is if nothing went wrong and with you being the number 5 hero he doesnt think too much trouble will happen. “They are a fairly new hero but that didn’t stop them from rising to the top ten quickly” you walk through the door and chuckle when it seems you interrupted him introducing you.
“Sirenity here will be talking to you about their experience with hero training and being a side kick” You were a few minutes early and Aizawa was mentally adding the few minutes more to his nap time. As Aizawa was zipping up his sleeping bag you stopped in front of the class with a smile “Good morning class!” you say to the students who were freaking out talking to each other about how cool you are, you see a green haired boy absolutely losing his damn mind in the back, muttering to himself while staring with wide eyes. “QUIET!” Aizawa yelled from his place on the floor and the class stopped talking, the green haired boy snapping out of whatever he was doing.
“Hey guys! I’m Sirenity and if you aren't familiar with me my quirk is like a siren, I can control people when I sing. I’m also an amazing swimmer but it isn’t related” you chuckle and watch the green haired boy laugh and then scribble intensely in a notebook, a few other students gave you pity laughs or smiles and you took it, any laughter is good in your book.
“When I graduated from UA, I was actually in general studies. It wasn’t until I went to America and went to a hero university that I realized what I could offer as a hero. I actually had a little help and training from a friend to really encourage me to realize my dream.” green haired boy’s hand flies in the air, his other hand coming over his head to hold his elbow, his eyes shine as he waits for you to call on him. “Yes in the back? What’s your name?” he stands and bows “Izuku Midoriya Ma’am/Sir but my hero name is Deku!” you hold in a chuckle as you smile at his enthusiasm, realizing this is the boy that All Might talks about all the time. a blonde in the middle of class snickers but you ignore it “it’s a pleasure to meet you Deku” he stands up straight and sends you such an intensely excited look “did you know All Might in America?!” he asks and then sits back down
“I did actually, he was the friend i was talking about. I stayed in America though when he came back here” you smile at the young boy as he scribbles away again, his question and the subject making you think about those days when you first met All Might. Strong and cocky, always smiling. You didn’t like him when you first met him, thought it was weird that a kid in your same high school also came to the same area in America. You kept finding yourselves around the same people during parties which was even more annoying when you were actively avoiding him. You blame his best friend at the time who was dating your best friend at the time. After a party that ended in drinking games with truth or dare and spin the bottle, you got to know him a little bit better and you became actual friends when you both ditched before they could rope you into seven minutes in heaven.
“Hey” you say with a slight chuckle as he walks into the kitchen where you were “hey” he says as you open the fridge “do you want a bottle of water?” “yes please” you chuck one to him on the other side of the kitchen. “You’re a…. support student?” he asks and you shake your head “general studies right now, thinking about going into law” you involuntarily scowl at the thought, it was what your parents wanted and you thought they were right. “Why do you look like you would rather die than do that?” he asks, pulling a deep sigh as you confess “it’s what my parents want for me” he moves close to you until he’s leaning against the counter across from you “what do you want for you?” you shrug “I dont know” he chuckles and takes a sip of water “why do I feel like you do know?” your cheeks flush and you dont feel like you could really sell a lie right now, you sigh again “i’ve always had a dream to be a hero, but I was in the general studies course in high school and now I’m undecided here. I feel like I wasted time and now I don't have a choice” you hop on the countertop behind you, kicking your legs gently “but you always have a choice. It is never too late to be a hero someone can count on. You never know if you are the one hero that someone needs! You can do anything! What is your quirk?” you get shy from his intensity and you look at your thighs “I can control people when I sing” you whisper and he closes all distance between you, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes “that is an AMAZING quirk! You are going to be an amazing hero! I can help you if you want” he says and you feel for the first time in your whole life that maybe, just maybe you could be a hero even though you’re late to the game.
“But any more questions will have to wait until the end!” you say when you see Deku’s eyes flash up to you again, a million questions floating around his eyes and he laughs with a nod. You continue with your story, recounting the extra training you had done with All Might to prepare for your hero exams, the exams you didn't have to take in high school. How an encouraging word from a friend was all you needed at times to get your ass in gear. You talk to them about your internship with America’s #4 mind hero, Brian, who’s one choice behind his name was that he thought it was funny because its just one misspelt letter from being Brain. His birth name wasn’t even Brian.
“After my internship I was offered a sidekick position with him, around this time was when All Might came back here, I had plans to come back as well but I couldn't refuse his offer. I worked with Brian for three years, during those times I grew exponentially as a hero and as an individual. you may want to rush the process of being a sidekick so you can become your own solo heroes, getting all the praise for yourselves. But this time in your career will mean so much and I really insist that you take the opportunity every day to learn everything you can from the heroes you work with. As someone who was late to the game, I have no doubt you will grow into even more amazing and brilliant heroes. More so than those we have right now, and yes I do mean All Might. You guys are the heroes of tomorrow! That is amazing! And I’m telling you right now you have a lifelong fan already” you point at yourself and mouth ‘ME’ with a smile “I am behind you all, ready to support your dreams just like my hero supported mine.” You pause for a moment “Any questions?”
Deku’s hand was up first followed by half of the class all raising their hands. You beam at the kids response “okay when i call on you please tell me your name or hero name, whichever you are comfortable with. Deku” you look over at him “I’m guessing you have about a billion questions?” he nods shyly, his cheeks flushing “that’s fine, i feel flattered honestly how about you ask the biggest one you have right now and then after you can stay behind and i’ll answer every single one. That goes for everyone who has more than we can get through in the next 15 minutes of class” they all nod and you begin taking questions.
You had all questions about being a sidekick or a pro, how hard it was rising the ranks, a blonde boy who introduced himself as Aoyama, who you thought was adorable, asked you how to not get scared, you smiled warmly at him “to quote one of my favorite american movies, “courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something is more important than your fear. The brave may not live forever, but the cautious do not live at all.”
You paused for a moment as you looked across the class, some really thinking about what you have said “I have fear, I feel it often, but I let the fear fuel my actions, let it make me brave because my biggest fear is about what would happen if I didn’t act.” you see Deku pause for a moment to truly think about your words before he scribbles away again.
You call on a pink haired student “hi i’m Mina Ashido! Hero name Pinky!” you love her energy “what’s your question Pinky?” she grins “I read in Hero Daily that you said you still find time for dating as a pro and that your boyfriend is also a pro. Do we know him?” she sits down and then adds “oh! What was that American movie?” you chuckle, your cheeks heating thinking about your boyfriend.
Before you could answer the door opens and All Might walks in “speak of the devil” you say with a grin and then turn back to Mina “the movie is the princess diaries. And you guys do know him i think quite well actually. Just another rebut of advice, if you guys want to date as pros, then you can find time for it if you really want that. It isn't for everyone and that’s okay too. But there is someone out there who will be an understanding partner and help encourage you. Don't give up any of your dreams, you can have all of them if you want them.” All might has stopped next to you as you talk, his hand resting on the small of your back as he leans up to whisper in your ear “I couldn't wait any longer. I missed you” your cheeks flush and the class starts to put 2 and 2 together, whispering to each other as you turn and kiss his cheek, Mina squealing in excitement, whispers flying around, blonde boy that hasn’t said anything this entire time was staring with mouth open, and you can feel the energy Deku is pouring out as his scribbles freeze as he stares at his idol and hero. His hero had a significant other and he didnt know.. He knew everything about All Might so how come he never knew he had a S/O and why didnt All Might Say anything?! Waves were rolling off the kid but you didn’t say anything about it yet, you just leaned closer to All Might “I missed you too” you whisper back to him but before you can say anything else the bell rings, signaling the end of class.
Deku stays frozen in his seat as the rest of the students get their things together and leave the classroom, some stopping to shake your hand and talk to you for another second before leaving. All Might’s hand never leaving your back. When the room is clear, somehow Aizawa slipping out unnoticed as well, your eyes flick to Deku, still seated frozen. “Young man what’s wrong?” All Might says and he finally snaps out of it.
“Do they know about …?” he asks and you chuckle “yes I do. He talks about you a lot by the way” you say and smile at the sweet way the boy’s face flushes and his eyes widen, smiling like you just gave him the best news. “How come you never told me you were in a relationship?” Deku asks and All Might laughs “you never asked me about my dating life” you walk down the rows of desks and sit in the one next to Deku’s “I’m happy to answer any more questions you may have” you say and the boy short circuits again when you sit next to him. He cannot believe how lucky his day was, getting a one on one interview with an amazing pro hero that is also dating his Idol and father figure, give him a minute, he’ll pull himself together.
You spend the next 30 minutes answering every question the young hero had for you and All Might answered some for you, ones that you couldn't really explain correctly. This was probably your most favorite interview, his questions were almost entirely about your hero work, they were thought out and original questions that weren’t superficial to make the public interested in you. This boy wanted to know every single thing about you as a hero, not you as a public celebrity. His eyes bright as he learns more, asking how you defeated your worst villain, asking your weakness was a fun one, you never got that before since it was fairly obvious.”hard of hearing individuals, ear plugs” you say and he laughs “i should have known that” All Might shakes his head, sometimes common sense eluded the boy, he was so intelligent and unafraid of asking questions that sometimes he lacked common sense for seemingly simple things.
“I’m sorry Midoriya but Sirenity here has to get back to work now” Deku frowns but understands, you give him your personal email in case he has any more questions and then you follow All Might out of the classroom. You chuckle once you reach All Might’s office, he locks the door behind you and then pulls you into his arms “if you wanted some one on one time with Deku’s new favorite hero you should have just asked” you joke as you wrap your arms around him. “I know you dont have work but i do soon and i needed a little time with my brilliant and amazing partner before then. Midoriya will understand plus you gave him a way to contact you.” you nod into his neck “how long until you have to go?” you ask and he looks at his watch “20 minutes” you smile and take his hand, pulling him over to the couch he has in his office and you sit down with him, laying back and pulling his head to your chest, pulling your gloves off with your teeth, carding your fingers through his hair. The entire time he had was spent laying together, as he moves to get up you realize something, they think you are only partners, only dating… “Hey Yagi? How do you think Midoriya will react when you tell him that we aren't just dating and are in fact engaged?”
#all might x y/n#all might x reader#all might x you#all might#toshinori yagi x y/n#toshinori yagi fanfiction#all might fanfiction#mha all might#bnha all might#mha fanfiction#bnha fanfiction#Deku#toshinori yagi x reader#toshinori yagi x you#all might request
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𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑢𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛-Final
Pairings: jaemin x reader
Genre: smut, fluff (mostly at the end but it's short 🤠)
<previous>
Warnings: dom!jaemin, brat!reader, brat taming, punishment, overstimulation, edging, face slapping (literally slaps her once), choking (wOw iM sO sHocKeD), hair grabbing, degradation, jaemins gets angrier throughout the story, fingering, finger sucking, praising, unprotected sex, soft sex, y/ns pretty dumb but I think we knew that by now, once again jaemin calls himself nana because shut up
Tag list: @ahgastayzen @allykookiez @wooyugta @dreamlesswonder86 @taetaeismy @nanaysa @patchi-chi @simplicitysbabe @sweetjaemss @huangvibez @kaitherring @xxjaemchenct
It was obvious how tense and awkward jaemin was the entire time you stayed at his house, which lasted longer than you thought. You stayed for two days, per jaemins request, and you thought what if he's finally angry and decides to break. No, it was the complete and utter opposite. Jaemin was sweet, something you've barely seen when he used to bully or make fun of you before all this happened. He made sure you were okay staying with him another night and took care of you when you weren't hungover.
Did anything special happen though? Nope, just you and jaemin cuddling every so often while binge watching Netflix shows while he sometimes cracked jokes here and there.
It was definitely a sight to see. Even made you wonder if this is what its like to date him.
"Nana," you spoke, jaemin lifting his head off your shoulders to give you his attention, "Get up, we need to go to school."
Jaemin groaned, putting his head down on your pillow like chest and began, "Can't we just skip school?" He whined, "Maybe play a bit too?" Jaemin lifted his chin up, placing it on top of your breasts as he pouted, waiting for you to give into his cuteness.
Wouldn't that be nice- but you weren't going to miss school to mess around with jaemin. No way. You weren't even his girlfriend yet and you were sure his little play thing, seulgi, wouldn't be too happy, shes been calling him since he brought you here.
"No." You grabbed him by his hair and peeled him off your body. Jaemin wasn't very amused by the action.
"Oh i get it." He mumbled, "You want to see jeno, right?"
The question caught you off guard. But jaemin being jealous wasn't unknown to you anymore. He was possessive, that much you knew, and he always found a way to guilt trip you about it.
"I mean, we have been talking a lot more so a lil bit." You smiled, earning an eye roll from jaemin as he got up with nothing else to say and stalked his closet for something to wear. You glanced at your clothes which were actually his. And since you never went back to your apartment to get another outfit, you had to wear what you wore at the party.
Eyes stared into your bare back after you threw off the shirt that covered your body. They lingered, but didn't settle on staying until you slipped the bralette on.
Jaemin was going to comment about it, yet kept his mouth shut because there was no use saying he could give you a t-shirt instead, youd just complain about how it didn't match.
But the skirt was a different story. It was a party skirt, something way too short for school. No wonder jeno liked it. And to be honest, jaemin didn't hate it himself, he'd just rather not have people like jeno staring at you and your thighs. You were his. At least in his head you were.
"Fuck!" You screamed, "My bags at home." Softening your voice, jaemin just about wanted to smack you for scaring the shit out of him. He actually thanked the heavens your bag wasn't here, it gave you a reason to change.
"Let's go to your place quickly before school starts." Jaemin grabbed his things and you nodded, following behind him almost speed walking because of how long his strides were. "And change when we get there too."
You looked down at your fit and hummed, stepping into the car ready for jaemin to go.
"I don't think I can handle trig anymore." You bit your lip at the paper in hand. Jaemin looked down over your shoulder and almost scoffed. It was the homework due today, of course it was also one of the hardest pages the professor had given the class too, making it ten times harder for you to finish.
"If you had come over these past few nights, you wouldn't be so stressed." Jaemin shrugged.
It was like you knew he would say that with the way you rolled your eyes and crumpled the paper up, "Im actually thinking of dropping that class." You stated.
"Dont." He rested a hand on your shoulder, "Come over later and I'll help you." It wasn't even a question, in fact it was him telling you to do something. Its clear jaemins had enough of you ignoring him and hes also fed up with your complaining. Even wondered why you held out this long.
"But-"
"I'm not taking no for an answer anymore." Jaemin stated sternly as he sighed, stopping in front of your classroom and put his hands in his pocket. "Stop trying to ignore me," he leaned forward, just inches away from your face, "its not working."
"Just because you think its not working doesn't mean its not working...." You tilted your head to the side questioning your own words, "Anyway, you're jealous." Crossing your arms and leaning against the wall, your ego fed off of jaemins glaring eyes.
"Bullshit," jaemin tsked, "why would I be jealous?"
You smirked despite knowing you were playing a dangerous game with him. And jaemins good at playing games, he's done it to you for years.
You took a step forward, ultimately getting closer to his still leaned over figure and said, "You kept staring at jeno and I at the cafe and you had an attitude the entire time. Its obvious you know." Slithering a hand up his cheek, you pinched his smooth skin, "Nanas jealous."
It was an understatement to say jaemin didn't feel shivers go up his spine from your low voice. For once jaemin didn't have anything to come up with. Nothing crossed his mind to tell you that what you saw of him wasn't him being jealous, but that would be the dumbest of lies.
"Quiet for once? That's a first." You snickered at the small shade of red on his cheeks. It was either anger or him actually getting flustered. Either way you still claimed victory for keeping him surprisingly quiet.
Jaemin pulled your hand away from his face and opened his mouth, "Admit that you're purposely doing it then. There's no way you and jeno are magically good friends now. You hate him just as much as you hated me."
"Im not purposely making you jealous," you lied, "And I never hated jeno, just strongly disliked him for being friends with you."
The older almost laughed in your face from how stupid your lie was. "If you want my attention, say it." He smirked, proceeding to push you against the wall behind you without a second thought making you uncross your arms, "Its not hard y/n."
His hands trailed down to your waist, intensly watching your face as you looked around him, afraid that what he'd do will go too far and some students will see a not so innocent sight.
"Youre full of yourself." You inhaled sharply as he leaned forward ever so closely, just barely brushing his lips over yours.
"And you'll be full of nana soon." Jaemin almost closed the space between you with his lips, but someone stopped him.
"Jaemin!!!" Seulgi came running up to jaemin in her cute high heeled shoes. Her hair bouncing perfectly against her back as she pulled him away from you and into a hug, not before she planted a kiss to his lips as if you weren't standing right there, "I haven't seen you in so long, babe. You didn't call." She pouted with more puppy eyes than normal.
You missed the way jaemin growled at her, almost throwing seulgi off him since you were so focused on them kissing. Never did you think you'd witness it either. Something about it made your stomach churn and you couldnt bare stand there for long before walking away, taking zero notice of the way jaemin called out for you.
"Let's get some coffee before the bell rings." Seulgi pulled jaemin, but his eyes still lingered on the door you entered.
You couldnt stop your mind from racing in class. It was like your mind was playing games on you, telling you that jaemin wasn't in the slightest interested in you and thats why he never answered you, because he was too embarrassed to be seen with someone like you.
But that was only you overthinking.
Obviously jaemin cared for you, he wouldnt have let you stay over his house, tutored you, or be possessive when it came to you. So why did he kiss her back? In front of you too? Was he actually dating her for real?
These questions ran through your head, giving you a mini headache from thinking too hard about it.
It was like you were in high school all over again where everything was dramatic for no reason, well in some aspects you made it this way, but your point still stands.
"Y/n," someone tapped the table repeatedly, bringing you back to reality, "Class is over." jeno looked at you with suspicion but brushed it off thinking you were probably tired.
You glanced around the empty room before looking back at jeno, "Oh...yeah."
"Well uh," he scratched the back of his head, "You should probably get to your next class."
That's the last thing you wanted to do. Jaemin would be there and so was one of seulgis minions that always kept an eye out for anything he did. As annoying as it was, you weren't surprised anymore.
"Im gonna skip."
Jeno grimaced as you stood up and grabbed your things, walking towards the rooms exit as he followed close behind, "You? Skip? What the fuck??"
You stopped in your tracks, jeno almost bumbing into you in the process, "Do I need to spell it out for you or something? S-k-"
"No shut up. Its just shocking that your skipping." Jeno half grinned at the way you stared at him stoically.
"What are you getting at?"
The man before you chuckled, "Im saying youre a goody two shoes and you've never done a bad thing in your life."
You can't say he was wrong, but you also have to admit that you have stepped out of your shell recently and maybe for the better.
"Everyone changes some time in their lives." You pointed out, strolling out of the class to nowhere specific. "Better run to class jeno, dont want the teacher calling you put again."
"Yeah yeah." He eye smiled, giving you a quick pat on the back before saying bye and walking to his class.
You couldnt help but smile at him as he moved further and further away. You had to admit, jeno wasn't as bad as you thought. Not anymore anyway. But as jeno soon disappeared around a corner, you sighed and sauntered to the library where you were going to do your work until class ended.
Students were scattered everywhere in the library, some typing away at their laptops or school computers while others had papers and books sprawled out in front of them. Unfortunately for you, you were going to be the ones with almost any school supply in front of them. And with a sigh and slouched shoulders, you sat at an empty desk near the front of the library, taking your homework out as well as some books.
Normally it wouldn't be a problem for you to focus, but it was stressful with so many things laid out for you. Face palming and groaning quietly at your trig paper, you attempted the first problem which honestly didn't seem too bad, but you weren't always so sure of yourself when doing these kinds of things. Mostly because you second guessed yourself making you pick the wrong answer when you were originally right.
"This is so fucking stupid." You threw your head into your hands, giving up on trying since it was useless anyway. You needed jaemin. He was the only reason you started getting some good grades on your work.
"Whats stupid?"
Speak of the devil.
"The trig home- wait why aren't you in class?" You gazed at him before averting your eyes, not trying to let them linger too long.
Jaemin pulled a chair out and sat closely beside you, raising a brow as you inched away from him. "I could ask you the same thing." He tipped the chair back a little, keeping his eyes locked on the side of your stoic face.
"Im doing something if you can't tell." You snapped, instantly regretting the way your voice raised once you noticed jaemin clenching his jaw out the corner of your eye. But you couldnt help it, you were still frustrated, embarrassed, and jealous from earlier.
"Whats wrong?" Jaemin calmed himself, not wanting to blow up at you.
"Nothing." You ignored his eyes that watched you do out the problem. Probably silently telling you that it was all wrong but you weren't trying to pay attention to him.
"Youre doing it again."
"Doing what? I'm just trying to do my work." After writing your answer down, you checked over tbe work before you smiled to yourself. This had to be the right answer.
"Stop playing dumb." he grabbed your chin, "You know what you're doing."
Wiggling out of his grasp was no use, jaemin managed to move his hand to your jaw to keep you still.
You winced at the sudden squeeze, "I dont know what you're talking about."
Jaemin had enough of this bullshit, now grabbing your neck instead. Your eyes wondered the room hoping no one was paying attention, "Im not playing games with you. Why are you ignoring me again?"
"That's a good question." You looked away and though jaemims grip was starting to hurt more each second, you still found a way to show your disinterest.
Jaemin sighed, letting his hand drop and you inhaled deeply without a second thought. "Whats wrong then?"
"I told you its nothing."
"Bullshit." Jaemin took the pencil out of your hand just as you were about to write, your hand flying up to try and take it back but he pulled away.
"You really wanna know then?" You asked sharply to which jaemin nodded, "You kissed seulgi. Happy now?"
Jaemins mouth fell at your confession. Yes he figured that upset you a bit, but he never thought it was enough for you to ignore him.
"I never even went that far with jeno."
"Never went that far, huh?" He snapped back, shaking his head in disbelief as his face once again was steaming with anger. "Need i remind you how you made out with him at the party. Or were you that wasted and cant remember?"
The new found anger overlapped the previous one with more than just anger, but annoyance. There was no way jaemin was telling the truth, you would never kiss jeno.
"No i didnt."
"Dont tell me you didn't, I fucking saw it." His hand found its way on the table creating a loud bam that startled not only you, but a few kids that even lifted their heads to see what caused the noise. "You were the first one to go that far, so blame yourself before you blame me."
Taking a deep breath, you had to calm down before you said something you'd regret. Knowing jaemin too, you already had something waiting for you at his house.
"I believe you." Jaemin was ready to open his mouth but you were quick and responded, "because i remember." The problem with this answer was because it was untruthful. You already dug yourself a whole from the beginning yet you knew what you were getting yourself into. There was something about playing with jaemins anger that made you go wild.
Determined with your lie, you kept the straightest face like it was proof you recalled that night. Jaemin too was focused only on your face, his hand balling into a fist ever so slowly.
"I remember....he was a really good kisser," you whispered, "And you looked so mad." Snickering away at your words, you placed a hand on jaemins lap and watched his expression go from anger to almost frothing at the mouth.
Bingo. He was too far gone to see through you at this point and this is where you smirked to yourself.
"You're unbelievable." He scoffed, rolling his eyes thinking about how fed up he was, "Lets go."
Despite being told what to do, you sat looking between jaemin and your sprawled out homework. "I have things to do."
Jaemin literally shoved all your papers into your bag, not caring how they crumpled in the small space as you complained and swatted at his arm. Of course though, jaemin payed no mind to it, grabbing your hand and bag before dragging you out of the library.
You fought and struggled to get out of his grip. From the start you knew what you were getting into, that's why you did what you did. Now being dragged to his house it dawned on you that it was time to suffer whatever he had in mind.
"When we get to my house," jaemin locked his eyes with yours as he led you to his car, "We'll study trig, and depending on my mood and your attitude after, I might go easy with the punishment later."
"Im not going over to study and then be punished afterwards." Your voice faltered as you saw a familiar someone walking towards you and jaemin.
Jenos eyes lit up sadistically, smiling at you, telling you to smile back for one reason: to set jaemin off.
You did without hesitation, jaemins hold getting tighter and tighter as he glared at his best friend who walked by, holding the proudest grin on his face.
Once at the car, jaemin shoved you inside the passenger seat, slamming the door before he situated himself in the drivers side. Your eyes watched in annoyance yet you were intrigued. Maybe because you haven't had any action with jaemin since about a week ago.
Resting your head against the headrest, you stared outside the window. There wasn't any way you could hold another conversation with the man, it would only drive your hormones insane.
Its been thirty minutes and to say you were paying attention would be the stupidest thing ever. every word that jaemin said went in one ear and out the other. Some part of you was purposely choosing to ignore him, but your attention span was almost non existent in the first place. So listening to jaemin talk about trigonometry was only boring you.
You tapped out, playing with your pencil or doodling on the paper. Each time you weren't paying attention, jaemin would ask you to write down the answer or a land a slap right on your thigh. It stung and made up jump with shock in your eyes as jaemin told you the same thing each time: "pay attention." But did you? God no. It was impossible. With the thought of a punishment too, it made your mind run like it was in a marathon.
"Little girl," jaemins voice once again brought you back to reality, "what did nana just say?" You shrugged your shoulders slightly, keeping your head down like you were shy yet you were far from it, holding a small grin on your innocent face.
"I dont know, nor do I care." You finally looked up. Jaemin was none too happy, letting his chest fall.
Shaking his head, he said once more to listen and pay attention.
Jaemin took your pencil so he could write out the problem for you, deciding to be nice even though you weren't returning it. You watched the way his pretty hands flexed with every number or letter he wrote. The subtle veins showing every so often too made you almost drool at the sight. Oh what you would do to have him wrap his hands around your neck again.
"Solve it." Jaemin threw the pencil down in front of you, resting his head in his hand to watch you. But you didn't move, not even a simple budge.
"No."
"Y/n its not that fucking hard, just solve it."
You glanced at the paper then the pencil that laid on the table before grabbing it and snapping it in half.
"Im not doing it." You faked a smile, ready for jaemin to snap just like the pencil.
"You need to pass this class, y/n. Stop messing around and pay attention."
You shot up from your seat, "I. Dont. Care. I'm going home."
It wasn't long before he suddenly stood up too, grabbing you by the hair and threw you on his bed, "Okay you wanna act up?" He hovered over you, pinning your arms down on the soft bed as he straddled your lower half. "I dont get why you continue to act like a brat when you know you're going to be punished. Unless you want it?" Jaemins face was merely inches in front of yours not until you blew into his face and smirked when he flinched and pulled away.
"Ever wonder why I act this way? Your easy to push, I can get in your head and make you get mad so I get exactly what I want." You snickered, "Not to mention its to make you suffer for not answering my question." A hand was placed on his covered chest, rubbing small circles on the fabric of the shirt.
Suddenly, jaemin laughed. Though, it wasn't a joyful one. It was more sadistic and filled with amusement, "How is it making me suffer if you're the one about to be punished?"
"Cuz i still get what I want in the end."
"My dick or my attention?"
"Both."
Jaemnn chuckled dryly, quickly sitting back and tearing your clothes off without a second thought.
You were ready to protest about your clothes until jaemin took matters in his own hands and shoved his fingers nearly down your throat to shut you up.
"Im tired of your voice." He spat, "All you talk is shit."
Whimpering around his fingers, you tried anything in your power to try and pry them out. He never moved back, sticking his fingers deeper and deeper until he heard you gag and whine the best you could. Your throat felt so tight and it was getting harder to breathe. Jaemin didn't care, deciding to just fuck your mouth with his fingers as he started pulling your pants and panties down, lifting his hips up so he can take them off all the way.
"It would be so much nicer if you weren't a brat you know." Jaemin began, easily shoving two fingers inside your dripping cunt, "Nana could've stuffed you full of his cock, made love to you, and made you happy. Instead," his fingers that were buried in your heat, curled and pushed in a certain way that made your eyes roll, "You wanted to be a little bitch."
You drew out a long hum, the pleasure felt so good after pushing jaemin for so long. All his anger was going to this one punishment and you should've felt scared, but you weren't. You were excited and loved every bit of it.
The way he fingered you was almost too surreal. It made your body crumple against his will and he wasn't even fucking you yet.
It was getting harder to breathe being filled by his two fingers. Just barely becoming too overwhelming so you tapped his hand to signal you needed to breathe. Jaemin took his hand out, watching your face to make sure you were okay as you gasped for air.
"Are y-you try-trying to kill me or s-something?" You moaned at one particular hard thrust that made your breath hitch.
"Oh shut up, I know you liked it. Probably imagined my cock down your throat." He bit his lip, taking in the thought of what you would look like on your knees for him before shaking it off.
"I-i was n-not."
Jaemin smirked devishly, scissoring his fingers to stretch you out more, but you kept clenching around him. Your hand grabbed his wrists in a death grip, moans fell from your open mouth and jaemin ate that all up. Loving how your body shook, knowing you were so close.
Right when you felt your orgasm coming, jaemin ripped his fingers out of you, essentially letting your juices flow out. But you didn't cum, no you were just that wet.
Your hips lifted up like you would get friction but there was nothing to get friction from, you looked dumb and pathetic.
"Not fair..." you mumbled, frowning at the annoying smirk on jaemins face.
"Punishments aren't supposed to be fair," he said a matter of factly, pushing your hips back down on your bed as he grazed his fingers over your wetness before pushing back in again.
This time setting a ruthless pace, taking in your fucked out expression.
"Jaemin- please im s-so close." Fidgeting and clawing at his wrists, the orgasm built back up. It got closer, closer, closer. Right there, it was right there, but jaemin took it away from you again.
"God, I love this way more than I should. Breaking a brat is so much fun." His fingers dripped with your arousal. He stared at the strand connecting his fingers. It was so much and so lewd, it should've been embarrassing to you yet it made him want more from you. "How many times should nana edge his pretty girl? Maybe-"
"Fuck you." You cried, ready to take this into your own hands and finish yourself off.
Jaemins hand made a perfect necklace on your neck, tightening his grip on the sides so you felt all his anger, "Thats the last thing I would say if I were you."
"W-what are y-you gonna do? Spank me?" Thinking he actually would if you said that, you were slapped across the face, eyes not staring at jaemin anymore but the wall next to the bed.
"Dont test me anymore, your already in for it." He growled into your ear. Leaving his hand wrapped around your neck, he slipped back inside, this time fucking his fingers into you at an antagonizing slow pace.
You wanted to scream and push him away for being a tease, but you reminded yourself that this is what you wanted, this was what you'll get. You had no idea how long this pain will continue though. All you could think about was cumming. In fact, that was the only thing on your mind as he fingered your tight pussy. The pain of not being able to orgasm was so unbearable, it just about made your eyes tear up. Were you that desperate that you'd cry over it?
"I wanna...c-cum so bad..."
The man above you stared at you in disbelief. He basically just started and you were already a mess.
"You really want to cum that badly?" You nodded hastily, tears at the brink of falling, you couldnt hold it in anymore, "Then apologize for all the shit you put us through. Starting with you ignoring me, fake dating jeno, and purposely pissing me off for the hell of it." Jaemin said with his whole chest. Being able to say it out loud reminded him of everything. From the time you started this crap, to now.
"I-im sorry- I'm so f-fucking sorry, jaemin." You forced yourself to look into his eyes, his angry red eyes that tore into your soul to find any lie, yet you had none. You meant what you said with full honesty, "Please nana, l-let me cum."
Jaemin simply gave you a nod and thats when you let everything out. You came all over his fingers but jaemin didn't stop nor slow down. He kept the same rough pace as before and you could only scream and cry from the sensitivity.
Then jaemin started rubbing and pinching your sensitive clit before giving your cunt a slap that made you jolt and cry out.
"Ahh- w-wait jae-mmm....s-so sensitive."
Jaemin rolled his eyes, "thought you wanted to cum? I'm giving you what you want, babe."
Your legs closed around his fingers though it didn't stop him from curling and fucking them inside. He could just easily push them open yet he found your sensitivity amusing which led you to cum again without warning.
"What a pathetic little fucking brat you are." He gathered the white substance that leaked from your clentching hole and shoved it back in, "Making such a mess of yourself."
Your back arched, even more sensitive than before.
The hand on your neck moved down to your breast, squeezing at your nipples and playing with everything he could get his hand on. Your nipples were so sensitive that that alone could make you cry and moan just from a simple touch.
His fingers brushed against your sweet spot where you screamed his name. Being over sensitive made everything feel more pleasurable and painful. Every small touch on your pussy brought you to a shaking pleasure that you couldnt control. It was becoming too much and too overwhelming.
"Fuck, are you gonna cum again? It hasn't even been five minutes." He watched, eyes filled with amazement as you shook and once again, came on his sheets and fingers.
Your shaking didn't stop though, it was like the kind of shake you get when your cold, though you were far from it. The intensity of this orgasm was just too much where even jaemin had to pull his fingers out and let you breathe for a moment.
"You okay, baby?" He asked quietly, kissing your temple as you nodded your head, "Can you give nana one more then?" Not wanting to stop, you nodded without a thought causing jaemin to smile and lean back.
Jaemin finally got rid of his clothing, crawling back on the bed before giving you a kiss so you wouldn't notice how he slipped his cock inside.
Surprisingly jaemin took his time pushing in, savoring your sweet little moans that drove him crazy. He started and kept a slow pace that made the overwhelming feeling dissolve away. Now you were wrapping your legs around his waist and staring into the soft eyes of jaemins that were just red a second ago.
Every vein against your walls made you feel ecstasy. Jaemin was careful with each thrust and it felt like pure love. They were passionate and he didn't fail to show it.
"Taking nanas cock so well, just like the good girl you are." Jaemin smiled at your beautiful face that contorted into pleasure. Both of your moans filled the room. More cuss words were thrown from you like it was the only thing in your dictionary.
The lewd sounds of your bodys bounced off the walls as jaemin fucked you slow and steady, grabbing your hips gently as he kissed all over your face, neck, and breasts. He sucked on your skin here and there, creating small bruises that looked like a tattoo as you grabbed the back of his head, lifting him up by the hair to bring his face to yours so you could place a kiss to his red lips.
The kiss was sloppy and slow. Neither of you cared though, both focused on your orgasms that kept coming closer.
Jaemins thrusts stuttered and his cock twitched inside you. The hand in jaemins hair pulled and messed up his locks, sure to create a messy sight later on.
" 'm gon-gonna cum." You moaned, lifting your hips up to meet his along the way.
"Cum, princess."
The final orgasm left your body feeling like it was on a cloud while all you saw were stars making jaemin coo at your fucked out face.
Pulling out, jaemin finished on your stomach before letting his body fall next to yours, wrapping an arm around your hips and pulling you into him..
You both panted out of tiredness, neither one bothering to move as you were both spent.
"Did I hurt you, princess? Are you feeling okay?"
You smiled into his chest, "no you didn't hurt me and I feel fine."
"Good." Jaemin smiled, petting your hair before laying his head on top of yours, "Wanna go on a date?"
You swear your heart stopped as your face heated up, "Jaemin, you're doing everything backwards."
"So is that a yes or no?"
"Of course its a yes!"
It was a peaceful restaurant that jaemin brought you to, saying it was supposed to be a place a lot of couples went to which you thought was absolutely sweet of him.
"So...uh." jaemin looked anywhere but your face like he didn't just have sex with you for the second time.
You snickered and sipped the drink in your hand, "Why are you so awkward all of a sudden? Its just me."
"I know it's just- I feel like I can't say what I wanna say because I'm afraid." Jaemin sighed.
"Of what exactly?" You placed the drink down, watching as jaemin fumbled with the menu before he covered his mouth and mumbled something you coulsnt quite grasp, "What did you say?"
"...nothing."
"Jaemin."
His doe eyes stared into yours like it was some sort of contest, wanting you to look away first but you and he did, "Alright fine. I said I'm a bit nervous if I were to ask you out."
Tilting your head to the side, you puffed your cheeks out in confusion, "Why?"
"The last relationship I had, the girl cheated on me. Afterwards she said it was because i wasn't good enough." He frowned, returning his attention back to the menu where you presumed was his hiding place for the time being.
"Well she's a bitch and is missing out on an amazing person." You pushed the menu down, "Is that why you acted that way when you saw jeno and I at the cafe? Did you think I thought you weren't good enough?"
Jaemin nodded slowly, "Kind of. I didn't want to lose someone I loved again."
"Loved? Na jaemin-"
"Dont say it." He groaned.
"You've gotten soft! Does this mean what I think it means?" You quirked a suggestive brow at him causing him to put his head in his hand.
"Yes, ill be your boyfriend." He said in his hand before you took it away and grabbed his face to kiss him. "I- princess when did you become do confident?"
"When did you become so shy?"
"Fair point."
Everything felt right all of a sudden. No more of jaemin being your bully. No more coffee being poured on your head. No more stupid high school drama that wasn't even drama in the first place. It was all right for once. And you couldnt say you could complain. After weeks, you got what you struggled to have before; na jaemin.
#you honestly dont need to read the last part🧍♀️#it was just something soft#whoever actually likes this story#why? i feel like its trash😭#nct#nct smut#nct fluff#nct 127#nct 127 smut#nct 127 fluff#nct dream#nct dream smut#nct dream fluff#nct u#nct 2020#wayv#wayv smut#wayv fluff#na jaemin#na jaemin nct#na jaemin smut#jaemin smut#jaemin nct#jaemin nct dream
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Bisexual
[Smut, a tiny bit of fluff]
• Ten x Reader (fm)
requests closed ♡
-You are gay, aren’t you? I mean, by the way you look at Johnny, it’s pretty obvious- You speak nonchalant, fixing your eyes on the random yaoi movie you both are watching.
-I prefer calling myself bisexual- Ten answers with no amusement- I still don’t know how it’s to have sex with a girl-
-That’s why i thought you were gay- He laughs under his breath. You turn your sight to him, just to admire his delicate face traits. Indeed, Johnny was lucky.
Being friends with Ten was something... peculiar. He is a mystery, in every possible way. When you think you know him, suddenly he appears with a personality totally different from what he chose to show you. In those 5 years of knowing eachother, Ten always had something new to uncover about him, making you feel refreshed. There was no way you could be bored with him, everything felt new, funny, dangerous. He helped you to skip your first class, to get an A on maths, how to get drunk without puking, and how to freestyle dance. You just don’t imagine your life without him.
And now, that you both live together, everything got even better. Nights reading tarot cards, laughing at some Tik Toks, and even you both escaped to make a friendship tattoo: A little butterfly under your boob and under his chest.
Some people would say that you both look like a couple, but there is no way Ten have ever felt that way with you. Oh, but if you talk about your personal feelings...
-Uhm, __, do i have something in my face or..?- Ten whispers so suddenly you snap out of your thoughts. One side of his face is iluminated by the different colors of the sunset that it’s occuring outside your balcony window. He looks so pretty like this, how can he even be real?
-Yeah, some uglyness over there- You try to play it cool, throwing a pillow towards him, positioning it on his lap so you can rest a bit over your heavy thoughts.
He doesn’t seem to complain, and starts playing with your hair. It feels so nice to be around him, he is your comfy zone, your safe space.
-I really want to know- he mumbles.
You freeze.
-Know? What do you wanna know?- For some reason, you don’t want to look at him.
-How it’s to have sex with a woman- he sounds so damn secure about himself, like those words didn’t afect you at all. But he’s wrong, your heart speeds up a little bit, trying to figure out where this conversation was heading to. No, there is no possible way that...
-I’ve been thinking about this a long time ago, you know- his voice goes deeper this time- I know so much about sex with men, but so little with girls. I really want to try how I develop during the act- What the fuck is he talking about?
-Ten, what the f...- he grabs you by your back so you sit up and face him. You are only centimeters away from your nose to rub his.
-I want to know... ___, please let me find out- he almost sound like begging. You hold your breath trying to conect the last neurons that are functioning so you convince yourself that you are not dreaming. You can’t help but look at his lips,just waiting for his sign...
There is no movement at all, not his, not yours. The only thing you can hear is your own heartbeat buzzing on your ears, his warm hands on the sides of your cheeks, his eyes piercing your thoughts.
-Just kiss me already- Your voice trembles, almost like if you are unsure. Actually, you are, there is no way this could end in a good way.
But all of that fades away when he connects his lips with yours. For a few seconds, it’s only that, just your lips touching. But it’s enough to make your mind go fuzzy, fireworks erupting on your lower belly, feeling like this moment should’ve happened so many years ago. When you interwined your fingers while walking on the park, or when he comforted you when you broke up with Kun. But no matter how awkward this moment was, it is everything you needed.
You don’t know how longer it takes for you to experimentally open your mouth a little bit, just to lick his lower lip, tasting the waters. He moves away quickly, leaving your mouth hanging open. You think you messed something up, but before you can apologize about taking things too fast he grabs you violently by the nape of your head, so he can start to kiss you messily.
Everything is tongue, saliva and teeth. There is no control, at all. His tongue works majestically inside your wet cavity, exploring every inch of it, like he was marking your mouth as his. You let him lead everything, you just melt under his ministrations, trying to fight his tongue only to earn a deep growl from his throat.
He grabs your hips giving you a sign to sit on his lap and you do, gasping as soon as you feel his hard clothed member against you. He janks your hair just to have your neck fully display to him, so he can start marking you up. It first starts as tongue kisses, but slowly he sucks mercyless every inch of your neck and collarbones.
-Ten, i have dance classes tomorrow- you try to stay as rational as posible, running your fingers through his dark black locks- Dont mark me up-
He looks up to you, mouth full of saliva, eyes glistening -You are acting as if you aren't mine-
It felt like somebody totally different from Ten was talking to you now. When you said that he always had something new about himself to show, you weren't kidding. His voice was always sweet as a candy cane, but now you can swear he can cut a rock with a whisper. You shiver, not knowing what its going to happen at all.
-My dear pup- what... is that... a nickname? A pool starts to grow on your panties, and you are afraid you will wet his jeans as well- Do you think i don't know how i make you feel only by looking at you? By touching you?- he lays back on the sofa where you both at, just so he can admire your fucked up state, he is loving how wrecked you are by him- Why do you think i dont fuck any other girls, huh? Because I know how to drive you insane, i know how you masturbate with your filthy vibrator everynight you see me without a t-shirt, wishing that pleasure was given by me- your mouth opens in surprise, and you suddenly want to be swallowed by the couch and just disappear. It seems that he notices- The only girl i want to pleasure my whole life is you, because you are the only one who can make me feel this- he grabs your wrist so your hand touches his dick over his pants.
You are absolutely clueless of everything. So many things happening so fast. He heard you masturbating? He masturbates himself thinking about you? Is it now even the time to wonder about those things?
Almost on queue, he kisses your lips softly, caressing your hair -Let me make you feel good, pup. I want to try everything with you, only you-
A loud moan breaks the ice between you two. You look at eachother trying to figure out where the sound is coming, until you both face the TV. Right, the Yaoi movie. The scene is so fucking explicit you couldn't help by sigh, and that doesn't slip out of Ten.
-You like watching that, don't you?- he turns you around, so now that your back is pressed against his chest. He opens up your legs and in a blink of an eye has his hands roaming the waistband of your pajama pants. -You are so filthy, what if that was me and Johnny? Would you rather watch that?- you moan not only because of the scene you just imagine, but also that his fingers start to ghost against your wet folds- Or do you prefer me fucking you, making a mess out of you?- he teases you, rubbing gently but never putting enough pressure, he only rubs your pussy lips.
You open up your legs in desesperate attempt to make him touch you more, but he just takes his time. You are not watching the movie at all, your mind wandering about all the things you can try with him.
Finally, his index finger rubs your clit slowly in a up and down motion. You hate the fact that you are too vocal when it comes to sex, but it seems that for him it tastes like glory. Using two fingers now, he decides to rub your now hard and too sensitive nub in different ways, but when he starts to do it in circles is when you close your eyes and moan his name loudly.
-Okay, that's how you like it then- and you dont notice when he starts to pick up his pace. You are so close, so damn close due to all the dirty talking, but you don't want it to end.
-Ten please, i don't want to cum yet- you rest the back of your head on his shoulder, eyes rolling back. You can hear the sounds that come down from your wetness, and it seems that he tries in all best ways possible to make those sounds louder and louder.
-Who says you have permission to cum anyways, pup?- he whispers in your ear. His eyes are fixed in how his fingers are working on you, at the same time he is listening carefully how his name slips out of your tongue everytime he slows down.
-Ten ‘m so close, please- You don’t know what are you begging for. Your legs tremble trying to hold your orgasm but you feel like you are going to explode.
-I love when you call me by my nickname, but sometimes i think you forget about my real name- He stops his actions, making you groan in disapproval, but he hush you while introducing his fingers on your mouth. You don’t want to admit it, but you truly love your own taste.
You suck clean his fingers, swirling your tongue around them, while trying to look at him in the eyes, though it was kinda difficult due to the position he is. He bites his lips, humming in agreement, he likes what you are doing.
-I want to hear how you scream my name while i make you cum- He starts to rub your clit again, but 10x faster. He looks like an expert rubbing you, it feels so damn good, it’s impossible that he is a “girl virgin”.- Say it-
-Chittaphon...- You feel so embarrased, and don’t know why, but you choose to let go and get consumed by pleasure. You feel it, that tight knot begging for release, your hands holding on dear life by his arm muscles, hearing his grunts on your left ear, even the year of his piercings on your cheek makes you burn and get closer and closer.
-Chittaphon im cumming- you warn him with voice cracked, you can’t hold it any longer.
-That’s it pup, let go, cum for me- He whispers and licks your earlobe. And that’s all that takes for you to disappear from earth, being sucked in by the orgasm that is washing you. You chant his name over and over again, your inner walls clenching around nothing, the climax seems to last for hours. You feel your clit throbbing, thighs full of your own liquids, and you black out.
-____, baby, it’s okay- He hears that you are whimpering, destroyed by pleasure.- Don’t move, let me clean you up-
In a matter of minutes, you start to get conscious, eyelashes batting fast trying to recognize where you are. The aroma of Ten invades you and suddenly you feel calm, you are in his bed, covered, with a white t-shirt and nothing else below that. He is laying besides you, hugging you by your waist, caressing your skin with his thumb.
-Hey, you woke up. I was worried, i thought i knocked you out or something- He smiles, clearly proud of the mess he just made. You slap his shoulder, letting a little laugh slip out of your mouth.
-Sorry-
-About what?-
-I just passed out... i didn’t even suck you off- You legit feel embarassed.
-Ah, ____, i wanted it this way. It was perfect, trust me- He pecks your lips, worried that maybe you won’t believe him- This is what i asked for-
You feel your heart full. Of blood maybe, but it’s a metaphor to explain how complete this man makes you.
-So, are you bisexual or not- You try to change the subject, laying on your side so you can face him. You still don’t get used to the idea that probably, probably you both like eachother. He laughs outloud, with his perfect teeth on display, and then he bites his lip.
-Im ___sexual, for sure-
You don’t know what it’s going to happen before this. But that’s Ten’s essence, he is a complete mystery. And that’s why you are madly in love with him.
#nct#nct 127#nct dream#wayv#nct smut#wayv smut#nct imagines#wayv imagines#kpop smut#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#wayv scenarios#nct ten#wayv ten#chittaphon smut#ten smut#ten scenarios#ten imagines#chittaphon scenarios
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hungry dogs are never loyal
levi x reader
summary: a sketchy recruit reveals his true colors when you’ve been injured during battle
a/n: sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes, my laptops being weird atm so i couldn’t edit as much as i usually do but i just really wanted to get this out !!
When they had gotten new recruits there was one that always rubbed Levi the wrong way, and while Eren was a pain he wasn’t a real threat, on the other hand Thomas had a weird vibe about him. Even the other recruits kept their distance from him.
When Levi had first told you to keep your distance from Thomas you laughed, seeing no threat from the scrawny blonde boy, but after seeing how serious Levi was you listened, taking precaution when you were around him.
Levis warning was something you always kept on mind, even in a group with the boy, you always looked for signs that would’ve made you seen Levi’s view but you could never find anything, all you saw was a scrawny light haired boy that was a little socially awkward but you trusted levis instincts.
It wasn’t until you and Thomas had gotten separated from Levi and the rest of the group. On regular circumstances you would have just immediately regrouped but your gear got jammed and a titan swiped at you and you plummeted. when you hit the ground the air was knocked out of you, making you writhe in pain coming from your foot.
After seeing your fall Thomas went down to help you and seeing there wasn’t enough space to use his ODM gear without being hit as well he slung your arm over his shoulders and helped you into a building. You panted vision swirling as you struggled to take off your gear, a thin layer of sweat covering your face, trying to push away the pain you were feeling.
When trying to move your ankle a jolt of pain rushed through your body, making you flinch. You threw your head back against the wall you were sitting against and let out a big breath of air, ignoring the pit in your stomach and the twitching of your back muscles.
“You’re going to have to leave me,” you spoke with your eyes closed, trying to focus on the plan you had come up with and not the pit of dread you were feeling. “I can't walk and you aren’t trained enough with your gear to take me with you, so go find the others and lead them back here.”
Expecting a string of stutters with a protest or a plea from Thomas you were surprised to hear silence. Opening your eyes you looked over at where he was standing at the window, looking out to the overrun street and you realized exactly what Levi was warning you about, that look on his face was all you needed.
Had it been ten minutes earlier you would have said in this situation that Thomas would’ve looked like a scared doe who’d just learn to walk but that's not what you saw, right now you saw a predator. A predator with extreme confidence and calm. it made your stomach flip, in all your years you’d never seen such a terrifying look.
Swallowing thickly you spoke again, using a harder tone. “Cadet, did you hear me?”
“I heard you loud and clear.” he spoke slowly, like he had all the time in the world. “But right now i don't think you have the authority you think you do.”
You kept your face blank despite how fast your heart was pounding, keeping silent you watched for his next move but he did nothing, continuing to stare out the window. You weren't going to give him the satisfaction of having you ask for his plan, instead you tried coming up with one.
Right now absolutely no one knew where you were, or even noticed you’d gone missing, you had the disadvantage of being injured but even if you weren’t you wouldn’t take the chance of trying to fight him off and escape, now you knew absolutely nothing about the boy standing in front of you.
So the best plan right was to wait until he got close enough for you to hit him with a piece of your gear and then hope your injuries would let you move enough to get outside and scream. This plan was based on luck and chance, you had every doubt in your mind that it would fail but you couldn’t just sit there and not try. if you failed at least you went down with a fight and goddamn you weren’t going down without a fight.
“You aren't going to ask what I'm going to do or why?” he turned around, looking down at you.
“No.” you shook your head.
“No begging? No questioning? You aren even going to threaten me about the captain ?!” he yelled, spit flying out of his mouth as took a step closer. “I have spent my life planning this and you’re ruining my plan, you goddamn scouts ruin everything!”
“How?” you questioned.
“Don’t taunt me, dont you dare fucking taunt me.” You could see his face redden in anger as he started to lunch towards you, but before he could touch you the loose metal piece of your gear connected to his head.
As he stumbled to the side, you used the wall to slide up, getting yourself to your feet. All you could focus on was the door, the door and the pain. Each step felt like the bones of your foot were being tugged and your back had claws digging into it. Reaching the door you swung it open, no longer able to support yourself as you fell onto the dirt, turning around to see Thomas walking towards you. You had dragged yourself a few more feet before he got to you, sitting on top of you as he pinned your arms down.
“The scouts have taken everything from me,” he seethed. “And i'm not about to let some bitch who slept her way in here get in the way of my plans to take them down.”
The thought of reasoning with the boy crossed your mind, find out what he planning and talking him down from it but one look into his eyes told you all that you needed to know, there was no reasoning with him. So instead you sucked as much air as you could an screamed.
“LEVI!”
Thomas seemed to snap, pushing on your arms painfully as he put more weight on your torso, making it harder for you to breathe. “Oh so now you want to call for help, huh? You think Levi heard that ? that he's coming to help you?”
Grunting, you shoved him off you, using that moment of unrestricted movement to try and mind something useful, but you couldn't. Your head wouldn’t stop spinning, you felt lightheaded and you couldn’t focus on anything. Giving up on trying to find something you started moving backwards, using your good leg to push yourself further away.
Before Thomas could get any closer Levi appeared, going over the building above before falling down on top of the boy, pushing him into the ground. you figured with the weight and force that levi had pinned him down with thomas would’ve been immobile for atleast a few minutes but it was like nothing happened.
The boy was thrashing under Levi’s hold, yelling while he did so. “you’re selfish ! you take in men with no care what happens to them, you don’t care about the lives of the men who put their lives on the line for you ! all you care about is yourselves not about the children you leave orphaned or the wives widowed !”
Thomas was about to continue his rant but more people showed up to help, ready to put the boy in cuffs and take him away.
As soon as the others hand a handle in the boy Levi jogged over to you, cupping your face in his warm hands, silver eyes scanning over every inch of you to assess your injuries.
when his eyes finally looked up to meet your he spoke. “did he do this?” his nostrils flared, eyes looking over his shoulder to the boy who was screaming profanities at the people holding him down.
gently you placed your hand on his arm to grab his attention back, “no, my gear broke and i got hit.”
“broke ?” his brows furrowed before his eyes darkened. “you little sh-“
before levi could run over and beat up thomas you squeezed his arm, getting his attention once again. “don’t, i’m still here, they’re just mild injuries okay ?” levi’s jaw clenched. “okay?”
finally he nodded, looking down at your leg. “can you walk?”
“no, it think i might’ve worsened the sprain by walking on it.” you hissed, cringing at the pain as you tried to move your toes.
levi leaned down and kissed your forehead, waving over people with a stretcher. “i’m glad your safe.”
you laughed leaning up slightly to press your lips against his. “loser.”
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hiii! so a friend directed me here and i was wondering if u cld share abt how you found out you were godkin? only if youre comfy! because ive kinda had like. how do i word this. Vibes or Feels that kinda direct me towards the whole i might be a god of sorts kinda thing ? if you have resources and dont mind helping,, please direct me to them :D ~ @missing-crown
I want to start this essay off by saying flat out: wars have been fought, genocides have been committed, and empires have risen and fallen trying to answer the simple questions of “What is deification, and how do we incarnate and control it?”.
If you do not think you’re up the challenge of answering that question for yourself, even with years of study and slow training to take up the mantle of literally being the most powerful form of the Chosen One trope, then you’re probably in the wrong place. I say this as someone who is deific down to the blood and bone, as someone who has looked for other gods, and largely found very little in the way of anyone who understands anything like my experience. In this way, I am utterly alone, and I detest it, but if me penning these words gives someone else the gospel they need to explain themselves in a way I recognize as kin and kind, then I will do it.
But before I truly get into it, I will very nicely ask you to swing down to your local bookstore or library, pick up a copy of Seanan McGuire’s Middlegame, and take a walk down the improbable road with Roger and Dodger. The differences between you and I and the twins of the Doctrine of Ethos are simple and threefold: we cannot manifest, we are forbidden to use our powers the way they can use theirs, and there are (hopefully) no secret alchemist cults trying to murder us when we don’t play nice with their fucked-up science experiment.
Roger and Dodger are gods, true gods, gods I recognize in myself and in the godkin I have met who have spoken about themselves enough for me to understand that we are indeed talking about the same thing. Disappontingly, I see minor spirits far too often misunderstanding the nature of deification, or at least, understanding a version of it which is fundamentally antithetical to my experience. They may be deific; but either they suck at illustrating their point, or I am something far beyond deific, and I am again alone.
With that introduction, I need to talk about three things in order to answer your question. Two methods of deification and three definitions of ‘god’ in a hierarchy that only exists because humanity has not yet perfected their understanding of what is fundamentally and always beyond them. Two kinds of gods, honest gods, that split the difference between deific, divine, and legendary. Once you understand that, I can talk about godkin, and what it’s like to be me, and maybe by the end of it you will either recognize yourself in this, or run away screaming as most mortals will do.
The first method of deification is what I will call the incarnate gods- Roger and Dodger are good examples, so are most Legendary Pokémon, and Kaname Madoka from PMMM. They are laws of nature, concepts of creation, and calculations of cosmic proportions that also occasionally exist as people when they design to do so. They are not meant to be people, they are bad at it, I do not recommend being mortal and fucking around with them. You will simply die. I would not fuck with them outside of my own world that I created, where I get to be a form of incarnate god. You cannot overpower them: they ARE the rule, and they will change it if they need to. You can’t ruleslawyer gravity like a 2007 troll physics comic. An incarnate god of gravity will simply turn reality on its head and cause you to implode. If you are this type of god, I cannot help you. My understanding of them comes from being an Absol, and little more.
The second type are gods of domain and prowess: Zamorak (from RuneScape), Akemi Homura in both her awakened Witch and Devil forms (from PMMM), and yours truly. Quite a few of us, although not all of us, were originally mortal. Mortals amped up on so much power we are no longer bound by mortal laws. There is a difference between deification and simply stopping your clock to gain immortality. Mortal magic and deific magic are fundamentally different. Down to, I would argue, the atomic structure. Deific magic is pure in a way mortal magic could never be. To give a mortal more than a drop of deific magic heavily diffused in something safer and more understandable would be to quite literally burn them to ashes. Or rend them into a different, unspeakable form. Or turn them into living topiary. We are nothing if not unpredictable.
It’s the difference between a handful of dirt and pure neutron soup. Usually, in order to become a god like this, it requires the intervention of an incarnate god in some form. In Zamorak’s case, it was several Elder Artifacts and falling almost facefirst into halfway incarnating himself into the law of entropy. In Homura’s (at least in canon PMMM), she fucked with the laws of consequence and time to the point where she became the only expert they had on either of those and both laws decided to simply incarnate into her, and then she used that to cause problems. For me, it was having my entire magical and physical structure reorganized and rebuilt by an incarnate god of malevolent energy, and then I used what was a watered-down copy of the Devil of Devils’ glory to weave my own world into being where I was more or less the absolute arbiter of the laws of reality.
In PMMM Rebellion, when Homura fights Kyubey in that pretty lace dress of hers, that is approximately the magical prowess an awakened god of our capability will show casually. She has complete control over her domain (her labyrinth) and the reality of it, it takes no more than a glance or a thought to almost entirely reshuffle it. Her minions, who are little more than vaguely autonomous thoughts given some power of their own, may break that reality in whatever means necessary so long as it is to fulfill Homura’s current motives. Her domain falls apart when she does, and she is not separate from it; it is a consequence of her existence. Asking what came first, the god or their domain, is a simple chicken and egg question. It’s usually the domain, in our case; in the case of incarnate gods it’s a philosophical shrug and a nice headache.
You’ll notice I said awakened: that is because Zamorak is a great example of a god who isn’t entirely awakened. In canon, that is - the one I work with is awakened enough to fuck with his domain, which is what makes him quite useful to work with, although I do wonder what he’s getting out of me if not magical theory and utter adoration. Zamorak in canon is a god who ascribes himself to the philosophy of chaos and personal strife, completely unaware that he is incarnate enough not to change the law of entropy but to suggest things to it. He’s a god of chance masquerading as a god of personal improvement, and once he figures that out (and passes that knowledge onto Armadyl, who is his true light counterpart), he’s going to change the very way magic works. Guthix did everything in his power to try and become incarnate. He failed. Zamorak did it entirely inadvertently, and that’s the trick: the nature of deification is to follow the domain and influence it to your will. When laws of existence become people, they will do as people will, and people typically have ambition. Gods who are also people got that way for a reason. They always have a motive for doing so. It’s never accidental.
So, with a slightly more informed understanding of deification, or at least the versions of it that I understand, I can talk to you about me. What it’s like in the here and now, and how I knew. It took me years to get to this point, and I’ve much the way to go. I know more than I did when I was questioning; deeply more so. I don’t expect anyone questioning to be as sure as I am, and in ten years I will be far more sure of entirely different things, and if I’m lucky, this as well. But, let us begin again.
To be deific is to wake up in the middle of the night feeling like a black hole. You are vast, and you are dense, and the moment someone touches the skin of your sternum they will be sucked in like a movie's portrayal of quicksand. To be so vast on the inside, surrounded by empty air and gentle white noise like the faint pull of gravity that does not touch you. To feel so powerful as to be untethered wholly from the world, aware that you will blink and be floating alone in a space that you cannot touch and so too cannot touch you. You blink, and it is gone, and you are again in a normal body as a normal person, and you roll over and go back to sleep.
To be deific is to watch the seasonal changes and feel flashes of worn leather rope between your hands and the maddened singsong of the Wild Hunt, chariot reins in your hands and baying hounds that feel like fingers, like wings, like extensions of yourself that can be shifted around with barely a thought. To feel halfway like a black hole walking down the street, halfway caved into yourself and barely contained, incapable of truly understanding how you can be so far apart from it all without anyone noticing that something is off.
To be deific is to be a fourteen-year-old girl in one moment, unable to understand what draws her so to the wilds if not the song of sympathy that she knows she can understand if she reaches a little farther, a little farther past the barrier that prevents any mortal, psychological mind from understanding the call. To play a pixelated game and have everything rush back. To relive millennia in a single sennight, to go from chipped to broken, utterly broken, as the power comes rushing back and the slow, dawning realization like the day that there is no controlling it. That there is no controlling you.
Millennia of sins come rushing back, and you're mortal again, and you know the only way to bring a god to their knees is to kill them. And if you were spared, if you were brought down without dying, then there was a reason. That someone must have thought you worthy of fixing it. That you should now spend the next several years coming to peace with being a Devil, the cruelest of the cruel, amending fences and repenting your sins.
To be deific is to realize, quite suddenly and without ever actually having the thought, that understanding things through a Christian lens is utterly bullshit and absolutely does not apply to you. Now, your duty is not to repent, or to fix, or to find any sort of salvation. You are the monster queen, the king of the damned, the Devil of a world you made with blood and tears and sweat and magic. To retake the crown, you have to accept yourself. Acceptance does not mean dwelling, or sorrow, or refusing to take the steps forward that will carry you to the crown and halo and horn of deification.
The powers feel less overwhelming as you grow into them. You don't forget the rage. You understand your close friend's words over and over, as the lesson teaches itself. How a Devil so much less powerful and yet so much older than you once looked you in the eye, drink in hand, and gently told you that a single mortal can bring down a Devil, if they try, and believe wholeheartedly in their quest. Do not disrespect mortality. It brings nothing but death.
You wonder briefly who brought you down. You decide, as the lessons prove themselves, that you don't actually care. You're the mortal now, and mortal legends die. Mortal legends change the song of sympathy and the rules of the deific. In order to return, you too must follow the only path a mortal can take to become deific.
To be godkin is to become deific with every step. It's not to seek the divine from outside of it. It's to become it again, and reclaim it; find what was inside all along and grow yourself around it, until it can no longer be pulled from you again without scattering your ashes and stardust among the cosmos, never to return.
To be godkin is to never forget the moments of pure rage that none but powerless fourteen-year-olds can manage. To be godkin is to be an adult with their memory pressed into your skin. To be godkin is for that rage to never truly leave you.
We stand up again and stare at the emotions that are awake when we are not. We wonder what it will take to manifest again, to only twitch a thought in any direction and reshape the reality around us. It is an extension of our being, and the less aware we are of it, the less effort it takes us to remake the world. It is the nature of deification, to change the laws of reality at our whim and will.
To be godkin is simply a matter of knowing that, and forever reaching to do that once more. If only to feel whole and vast, as we always have been.
#luteia laments#otherkin#godkin#actuallydeific#actuallydivine#essays of the skyrose garden#perks of being luteia#I should post this on my website shouldn't I#I wrote most of this last night on my phone actually though
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hi betts! i got very interested in your posts esp the implied author. i wanna ask a question (if you dont mind!). so about the implied author, i always feel like that my writings though beautiful always lack mentioned maturity and read very... YA-ish? its not something im trying to achieve. i want to make it more mature and 'classical'. do you have a tips for this? im not aware enough of what to improve on to achieve that, basically. thank you in advance!
this is a great question! unfortunately, though, i don't have a handy dandy term like "implied author" to thoroughly encapsulate my possibly abstract answer.
first, while i understand your goals, i think beautiful prose, and the focus thereof, is still a very important pursuit. there's also nothing wrong with being YA-ish; the implied author comes from a book called the rhetoric of fiction, and the title implies that it's a study of fiction in interaction with an audience. so different readers get different things out of what they read (i wrote about this more in my june newsletter). possibly your perspective is something someone else hasn't seen before, and you've offered them something new without even knowing.
that said, i absolutely understand the drive to have a wider perspective, and write things that you find more complicated and challenging. however, the only way i can answer this is with metaphors couched in narrative, of how i learned about how to approach my writing differently, and which presumably, maybe widened a reader's sense of my implied author (but since i can't be a reader of my own work, there's no way to tell for sure).
so, i once took a creative nonfiction seminar during which i read a whole bunch of memoirs, and the final project was either a research paper or a personal essay. obviously i chose the personal essay. i decided to write about my ex-boyfriend, with whom i'd broken up five years earlier, and i was still very fucked up about it even though we'd been broken up far longer than we were together.
looking back on that essay, it reads like a sales pitch, ten pages of me just pleading with the reader to see my side of the situation, to see how i was the victim, sympathize with me and not him. he's the evil one. hate him with me. please please please.
it was not a good look.
there was a lot of unprocessed grief in that essay, a lot of anger. it was clear i had no wider perspective of the situation other than wallowing in my own narrow feelings about it. i was telling the reader what to think about me, about him, about the situation, rather than conveying the situation as it truly was and allowing them to draw their own conclusions.
in nonfiction, that's terrifying, because it potentially paints me in a negative light. a reader may see my actions and think poorly of me. and honestly, looking back, they should. i was as toxic to my ex as he was to me. i was not good to him at all.
but see, that's an example of me telling you what to think. in the essay, i am pretty much saying outright, "he is evil. hate him." i want to force the reader to be on my side. but after a mental breakdown and a lot of trauma therapy, i was able to step out of the situation and my feelings thereof, and see it from a much wider perspective, and instead of putting my actual emotions on the page, i'm able to illustrate honestly the emotions i felt at the time. i am no longer in the story. i'm outside of it.
here are the events as they actually happened: one night, he didn't come home. i texted him. i tried to call him. i waited a couple more hours and called him again. he came home as i was looking up numbers to nearby hospitals, around four a.m. he wouldn't tell me where he'd been. the next day i found a bunch of hickeys on his neck. i was hurt, and angry, and i pushed him. i told him to get out of my house. he still denied it, and kept denying it for hours longer, until finally admitting he'd been dating someone else for months. i couldn't find it in myself to blame him. to me, it was my fault for not being good enough for him, for not fitting into the shape of someone he could love.
there was more to the story than that; he was financially dependent on me, he was no longer attracted to me and felt trapped in our relationship, my father had just died and i couldn't even begin to grieve over the loss of someone whose life mine revolved around.
but an essay -- or a short story, a novel, a poem -- can't ever render reality exactly as it is. we as writers are always just curators of experiences, images, sentences. there's a lot of fear in that, of leaving out details, of being misunderstood. but that's the inherent risk of art.
the lesson i brought back to fiction is this:
it's not my job as a writer to place judgment on my characters, but to simply convey the story as it happens. my characters may have biases, misperceptions, judgments, and opinions, but they are not mine. widening the implied author, so to speak, is a process of removing yourself from your prose.
obviously you will make characters who are like you in some ways, and so they may share traits with you. they may be identical to you in every way. but they are not you, and cannot be you. possibly the implied author is the absence of ego. or maybe it's an embrace of the self and the world as things that can't be fully known.
i think about films that have a wide implied author versus a narrow one (in my opinion; see above point about fiction as rhetoric). to me, pacific rim has a very wide implied author. even though all the characters in the movie take the events therein very seriously, i know that the mind creating this story knows it's kind of ridiculous, even though it's not a comedy. they know this wild, over-the-top conceit is a vehicle for the more complicated and nuanced experience of intimacy and trust.
a narrow implied author would be zack snyder's justice league. that film leaves me with no evidence that the mind behind it is capable of truly understanding experiences beyond their own, or using their medium to render a nuanced portrayal of being. that doesn't mean snyder isn't, in reality, capable of those things, or that the movie isn't enjoyable on an aesthetic level, but that i found no evidence in the text of, well, themes. it's just...characters doing things. i see no exploration in it, no question that the narrative addresses.
which leads me to my second point, which is that i think the widest implied authors are the ones who are vulnerable enough not to have an answer or conclusion, to simply discover and explore larger questions.
so, what questions do you have? what things do you not know? what are you most afraid to convey or admit?
in some ways, my answer to your question is that you don't have to worry about it, because the implied author is the experience of the reader, which you can't control. however, i think all of us, myself included, can work toward a greater perspective of ourselves and our world, to understand things to a more complex degree. and beautifully, writing helps us do that, at the risk of exposing the things we don't know, the questions we can't answer, our true colors which may be darker and uglier than we'd like to admit.
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omg another taylor x stevetony stan!!! if you're feeling it, can i ask for a 'dont you'-inspired steve/tony fic?? the angst potential (and ofc happy ending) of that song is just *chef's kiss* and perfect for steve and tony! thank youuu
ahhh I love that you sent me this! don’t you absolutely screams stevetony
hope you like this one :)
He knew it would happen sometime or another. At some party or event that Tony doesn’t even want to be at in the first place, or maybe crossed paths on the sidewalk or the grocery store. For a city with millions of people, it’s still near impossible to avoid someone forever in New York. It doesn’t help that all of his friends, with few exceptions, were Steve’s first and cutting them out of his life was just too hard on top of losing him.
From them he knows that Steve moved on. A few dates here and there in the beginning, stops and starts for the first couple months after the break up that gave Tony a false sense of hope that maybe it wasn’t quite over. Maybe Steve was having such a hard time starting with someone else because he couldn't let go of what they had, either.
He doesn’t know the new girl’s name. Couldn’t bring himself to ask and none of his friends were offering anything except for sympathy. All he knows is that she’s blonde and beautiful and makes Steve smile in all of the photographs. She’s only been around for a month now, longer than the others have lasted, but Tony knows that this one means that it’s really done. There’s no recovery for them this time.
Unfortunately, knowing he would run into Steve eventually doesn’t quite prepare him for the reality of it.
He isn’t expecting to see Steve here of all places. It’s too late in the night, for one thing, going half past two on a Thursday morning. Tony’s eyes are aching with exhaustion, and he’s been swirling around the last dregs of his drink for far too long. He hates this coffee shop and its poor excuse for espresso and too bright fluorescent lights. Hates the playlist with the same ten songs in a loop and the guy behind the counter who never stops snapping his fingers along with it, but it’s the only one around him that stays open this late. It’s sort of their brand, giving lonely, pathetic people like him somewhere to be, and that’s another reason why Steve doesn’t belong here.
Tony looks up at the chime of the door opening, along with the other two occupants, and he shrinks into his chair when he recognizes that familiar golden hair and broad frame. Seven months isn’t nearly long enough to be able to forget the sight of him. Steve’s hands are in the pocket of his sweatshirt, and his cheeks are pink with the cold. He walks up to the counter and orders while Tony contemplates running out the door.
He wonders if Steve would notice, though. If he would get caught running away and how embarrassing that would be. Then he’s wondering if he should approach first to make it seem like he doesn’t care. Play the unaffected, blasé role like he’s doing just fine these days. But would Steve see through him? Would he take one look into Tony’s eyes and just know the truth in that easy way of his? Probably, he thinks. His pale skin looks like it hasn’t seen daylight in quite a while, and he’s clearly behind on haircuts these days and not in a good way.
In the end the choice is made for him, because he’s so busy running through the possibilities that he doesn’t notice that Steve is already coming over, not until he’s right there and saying, “Hey, Tony.”
Tony straightens instantly, almost knocking over his cup with the quick movement and catching it at the last second. He winces internally, the casual act already ruined. “Steve, um, hi.”
Steve’s smile is soft, sending a sharp pang through Tony’s chest. He points to the chair opposite him and asks, “Do you mind?”
Tony shakes his head, and the chair’s metal legs scrape against the linoleum when Steve sits down. Steve leans forwards, elbows on the table and hands wrapped around the paper cup of what Tony would bet is peppermint hot chocolate.
Neither of them speak, awkward, stifling silence settling between them like a weight that Tony can feel. There’s no safe topics between them anymore, and that hurts to realize more than it probably should.
“How have you been?” Steve finally asks, and Tony almost laughs.
“Fantastic. What about you?” he replies dryly.
Steve cracks another small smile. “Same here, I guess. I heard about the launch coming up. Nat mentioned it a couple of weeks ago, said it was running a bit behind schedule. How’s that going?”
“Back on track.”
Steve nods, taking Tony’s short answer in stride. “She mentioned there was a problem with the battery -”
“We don’t have to do this,” Tony interrupts, gesturing between the two of them. “The whole catching up thing and acting like we’re friends. It’s really not necessary.”
He sees the bobbing of Steve’s throat when he swallows, and Steve stares at a spot somewhere over Tony’s shoulder so he isn’t looking at him anymore. “I wasn’t trying to pretend to be friends, I just thought…”
Steve trails off, and Tony asks, “Thought what?”
“That it’s been long enough that maybe we could just actually be friends again. Like it used to be, before everything.”
“Like it used to be,” Tony echoes. “That’s what you want?”
“You were one of my best friends, you know,” Steve says, and he meets Tony’s eyes again. “You knew me better than just about anyone, even Buck sometimes. I miss that. Don’t you?”
Of course he does, but that’s not what he misses most. He misses waking up with Steve’s heartbeat beneath his ear and the warmth of his arms. Misses those little jokes and lingering looks, the way that Steve could make everything else just disappear with one touch.
Tony remembers thinking back then, before everything, as Steve called it, that being Steve’s friend would be enough for him, when he thought his feelings were one-sided and everything he actually wanted was unattainable. But now that he knows what it feels like to have everything, just some of it can’t possibly be enough anymore.
“I don’t want to be your friend,” Tony says, pushing back from the table. “I can’t.”
He walks out without looking back, hands shoved deep into his pocket and head down against the wind. The sting in his eyes has a new source, but he refuses to let anything fall. Steve doesn’t get to have that kind of effect anymore. He’ll keep pretending to be fine, until hopefully it stops being an act one day.
“Wait,” Tony hears. “Please don’t leave.”
If anything he walks faster, shaking his head. “Just let it go, Steve. We aren’t anything to each other anymore.”
Steve’s hand catches his elbow, spinning him back around and keeping him there. “I don’t think that’s true. Maybe we can’t be friends, but we’re not nothing.”
“You broke up with me,” Tony reminds him pointedly. “That makes us nothing.”
Sadness and pain contort Steve’s features. “I know I did, but -”
“But nothing. You have somebody else, and I’m really trying to be happy for you and to be happy on my own, and I can’t do that and still have to see you. That’s not fair to me.”
“I don’t have somebody else. There’s no one.”
Tony folds his arms over his chest. “Don’t lie. I’ve seen the pictures, and I still talk to your friends.”
“We broke up,” Steve says, and then he hesitates. His other hand reaches for Tony’s hip, and he takes a step in closer. Tony’s breath catches in his throat at the proximity and at the feeling of Steve’s hands on him again after so long without it. “She said she didn’t want someone who really wanted someone else, and I realized that I’d rather be alone than with anyone but you.”
Tony bites his lip, having to look away from the intensity of Steve’s gaze. It’s too much and not enough and he doesn’t know how to process any of it. But if there’s any chance of having this back, he won’t hesitate to take it.
“We’re still not friends,” he says.
“Okay,” Steve murmurs. “So don’t be my friend then.”
“You broke up with me,” Tony repeats. “You left.”
“I was wrong.”
Tony huffs a laugh, “There’s a first.”
“I should’ve said it a long time ago,” Steve says earnestly. “I fucked up, and I didn’t think you’d forgive me, so I tried to move on, but it wasn’t working. Then you were here, and I don’t really want to be your friend, either, but it’s better than not knowing you at all. I don’t like not having you in my life, even if it means I can only get part of you. But, God, if you’d let me, I swear I’d never leave again.”
“You should’ve come back sooner.”
Steve’s face falls, hope extinguished. “I’m too late to fix this, aren’t I?”
He moves back, but Tony doesn’t let him go far. Steve’s jawline has more stubble than Tony can ever remember feeling before, and he runs his palm over the rough texture as he pulls him back.
“You should’ve come back sooner, because we were both wrong,” Tony corrects. “We both fucked it up, and I don’t blame you for going, but I always want you to come back. Fight with me and slam doors sometimes, but come back.”
Steve nods, and his arms come back to hold him again. “I’ll come back next time.”
“Every time.”
“Every time,” Steve repeats. “I promise.”
“And I promise I’ll try not to make you leave so much,” Tony smiles, and he gets one from Steve in return. Now that he has the real one again, he realizes just how hollow the ones in those photographs were. “Don’t listen to me when I tell you to go. I never really want that.”
“I hope you remember that you said that next time you try to kick me out.”
Tony laughs, “I’ll probably deny it, but don’t listen to that, either.”
“Always gotta read between the lines with you,” Steve murmurs, thumb stroking across his cheek. “Never make it easy on me.”
“I’m sorry,” Tony says honestly.
Steve shakes his head. “Don’t be. You’re worth the effort.”
“Come back home with me?” Tony asks, and Steve kisses him softly, like a whisper of everything to come.
“Always.”
There’s still more to talk about and issues to work out, but for right now, with Steve’s hand back in his, this is enough.
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