#the angel would better get his shit together and make a proper fucking apology and Explain himself
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like Crowley wasn't traumatized enough by being abandoned by the mother (God) he loved, it took him 6000 years to let himself Trust someone again enough to show his feelings and reveal his heart. only to be abandoned once more 🙃
#good omens#ineffable husbands#aziracrow#crowley#i have no idea how he's ever going to let aziraphale come back to him#the angel would better get his shit together and make a proper fucking apology and Explain himself#talk you idiots#crowley needs to know he is loved back; as he is#these fucking ethereal beings with zero communication skills; i swear
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The Choices We Make (Tom Holland) [2]
A/N: First off, i would like to say thank you so much for all the love and support on part 1, it truly means the world to me <3 second, i am so sorry for the long wait but here we are! thank you for your patience you kind angels! Hope you guys like this as much as the first aha! x
Pairing: Tom Holland x Fem!Reader
Summary: Tom realises what you two had and everything that he wasted. He realises he needed to fight for you and that he can’t lose you for good. But will he be able to make things right and have you back in his arms again or will it be too late?
Warnings: heart wrenching angst, a lot of crying from both persons, a bit of fluff but it’s flashbacks and typos?
Word Count: 14.4k+
Masterlist in Bio
NOTE: Flashbacks are in Italics
-:-:-:-:-
Where does Tom start?
Well, he can start with the fact that he's miserable. The fact that he's a disgusting piece of shit who deserves nothing but to be miserable, no less, maybe more.
You were so good to him, too good. You treated him more than he deserved. Even after what he did, even after he betrayed you, never did you treat him any less of man when in fact, he deserves to be treated like shit.
With a heart as kind as yours, when you showed him nothing but pure love, how could he have done what he did? A question so heavy as Tom asks himself as to why, but only ends up empty, it only ends up unanswered.
This makes him feel even more stupid. A downright disgrace given that he's ruined something so precious and special all for nothing, not even for something remotely worth it.
He could say he did it for sex, which is really rotten no matter the circumstance, doesn't make things better even by the littlest bit. But even then, it still wasn't worth it. He threw away so much just for sex? What a shallow reason to destroy such a beautiful relationship isn't it?
Quite frankly, nothing he will ever say will make things better. Not a single reason would justify the way he broke such a kind heart that gave him nothing but blissful happiness, gave him the truest forms of love.
The damage has already been done, he's already destroyed everything, hearts and trusts turned to nothing but fractured pieces.
Just how could he? How could he have done that to you?
You didn't deserve any of it.
All the times he's ignored you, made you feel unwanted. The countless times he's pushed you away and hurt you with his angry words. Hell, just the fact that he's made you feel like you weren't enough was a crime in itself.
Tom has been with you for three years, three fucking years, and during that time you had always been enough, more than enough. But that's the thing, realization and regret always comes last, always comes when it's too late.
You only realize just how much something is worth until you lose it.
It's been hours since you left, and Tom feels so utterly lost.
You we're his true north and now that you're gone, he was lost. Lost on where he'll go from here, lost on what to do, lost on who he's become.
A part of him knew he should've chased after you, but then what? He doesn't know what more he could say. He was still in deep doubt if he was fixing things or breaking it further if he continued to run his mouth. He at least needs to get his mind straight, get himself together or he'll say something that will make things even worse than it already is.
Tom sulked in bed right after everything, right after he heard that front door shut. He let himself drown in his tears and his regretful thoughts, both overwhelming him to the point that he passed out without even realizing.
Now, here he was, fully awake but still in bed. The sun was on its highest but Tom had no clue what time it was. With a broken phone, there was no way of telling unless he moves to grab a watch. But he doesn't really feel like moving. He just wants to rot in bed — or in hell as he rightfully deserves — and do absolutely nothing.
The whole house was eerily quiet and very cold, and he doesn't want to explore its state when he knows how it was coated with so much warmth before, your warmth. Was this how it felt for you when he doesn't come home? If so, then Tom feels even more of a shitty person than he already is.
But the world won't stop its course just to wait for him now won't it? So despite it all, Tom willed himself to get up and out of bed with a heavy heart, pushed himself to at least do the next right thing, whatever it may be.
Feet dragging against the tiled floor, Tom reached the living room with a broken sigh. His bloodshot eyes landed on the number of frames on top of the fireplace, photos upon photos of you and him, his frown deepening as the pain squeezed at his heart.
He walked over and took one in his hand, the one where Tom had an arm wrapped around your waist as he rests his head on your shoulder, eyes crinkling at the corners as both of you smiled wide and bright, the calming view of the Grand Canal just behind you as you explore the wondrous city of Venice.
The photo was taken by Harry during the shooting of Spider-Man: Far From Home, where you traveled with him and supported him from the first day to the very last.
It was such an innocent picture, mundane even, but so many memories came flooding inside Tom's mind with one simple look. And slowly but surely he was reminded how it used to be, how happy you both were just being together. Tom was reminded how special, how real it was, what you two had.
It doesn't even end with just the pictures, the whole house was a constant reminder too all the things he's wasted, all the beautiful things that made him feel nothing but pride and joy, utter euphoria to have such a wonderful woman in his life.
The whole house that was littered with all things you, from every room to every hall, from your precious laughter to the gorgeous sounds of pleasure that once bounced off the very same walls. Tom can still hear it, replaying inside his head loud and taunting to not let him forget each blissful memory that composed of you and him.
But now it's tainted by his blatant mistake, spoiled by his scandalous choices and he will never be able to forgive himself for that.
With a sharp intake of breath, Tom wiped the tears that slipped down his cheek with the back of his hand. He brought the frame up to his shirt to rid of the droplets that coated the glass, returning it back gently, carefully in sheer fear that he'll break it if he wasn't cautious enough.
Tom knows he owes you countless amounts of apologies, and at least a proper closure. He wasn't going to let last night be the end of it all, he knows he needs to talk to you. He needs to answer whatever question you have, and tell you what he truly feels. He just knows that the demons in your head are relentless. In whatever way he can, he needs to appease your mind with nothing but honesty so that it won't eat you up from the inside out.
He won't be able to live with himself even more if he just leaves you to blame yourself for his choices. And he's not going to stop until it sticks with you that this was nowhere near your fault. This was all on him, and he has to make sure you understand that loud and clear.
So right after he's bought a new phone, he drove towards the only place he knows where you'll be.
***
"Come on guys, open up," Tom tried again, knuckles rapping at the wooden door for the tenth time.
He's been outside the twins' house for roughly fifteen minutes now, and it's either no one was home or they were ignoring him. He figured it was the latter for obvious reasons, and he was proven right when he heard rushed footsteps on the other side when he gave the door another knock.
"Go away Tom, I genuinely don't want to deal with you right now," Harry fumed, boiling anger evident in his tone, a dead giveaway that he was well aware of what had happened.
Did Tom really expect his brothers to be calm about it? No, not even by a little. If he fucks up, they're the first ones to put him back in his place. And now—well, now he fucked up very badly.
Too add to that, the boys care about you a lot. It's been such a heartwarming thing for Tom to see you grow close with them, to see them accept you as part of the family. He understands why they're angry at him and they have every right to be.
"I know she's in there. Just open up, please," Tom sighed, palm flat against the surface as he waits for the lock to click open. Harry scoffed at that, voice muffled due to the door that's still in the way. "She is, but what gave you the idea that she wants to see you?"
That stung, but Tom also can't say he was surprised. Hell, he can't even look at himself without grimacing, so he wasn't expecting any less from you. He wasn't expecting things to go smoothly at all with the weight of his actions.
"Look, I get why you're mad at me. But Harry please, I just need to talk to her," he begged, but still to no avail as his brother growled in response. "What part of 'she doesn't want to see you' do you not fucking get?"
Tom was running out of patience, especially now with his emotions all over the place as with his mind. It was crowded in his head, very loud and obnoxious, just pushing and poking until he felt his anger bubble slowly. And before he could stop himself and take a deep breath to stay calm, his voice boomed,
"Just let me in damn it!" Tom's fists hit the door harshly, his emotions overpowering him to the point where he's becoming rash with his actions. He wasn't frustrated at his brother by all means, he was frustrated at himself. After all, there was no other person to blame why everything in his life has gone to absolute shit.
"Oh go and fuck off!" Harry barked, just fuming at the fact that Tom had the audacity to show his face at his house and give him attitude.
"I'm your fucking brother!" Tom knew that was a bullshit come back but he tried it anyway, he'd try anything at this point, growing desperate with each passing second.
He just really needs to see you. He needs some sense of familiarity, someone to ground him back, someone who's going to tame his mind before he losses it completely. That someone has always been you, his sense of peace, his rock.
"Ah yes! Please do remind me Tom because that's the only thing stopping me from going out there to break your fucking teeth you asshole!" It was obvious that both brothers were now feeding off of each other's emotions, voices loud as they go back and forth, and it was only a matter of time before one explodes which well then make things take an awful turn.
"Jeez Harry, calm down for a second yeah?" Sam's voice interrupted before things start to escalate further. What Tom heard next was fairly inaudible, but he can picture the twins arguing, just hearing the exchange of muffled voices. Then a few seconds later —much to his surprise — Sam opened the door.
Tom met his brother's eyes, a breath of relief coming out of him. "Thank you Sa—"
"Don't thank me, this wasn't my decision," Sam said solemnly with a stoic look on his face, a dissatisfied tone in his voice that Tom was quick to catch. "She's waiting for you in the garden," his brother added, stepping out of the way to let Tom in. He locked with Harry's angry eyes on the way, Tom's frown deepening as he tries to say something, to basically apologise for yelling when he has no right to.
"Harry I—"
"Just fucking walk," his brother sneered, tone ice cold. All Tom could do was nod as he pressed his lips into a thin line, walking pass the twins with his head hanging low in shame. Though never did he miss — nor will he forget — Harry's death glare and Sam's disappointed gaze as he made his way towards the back door.
***
The loud bang on the front door and the yelling was what you woke u—no, the fact that the loud voice belonged to Tom was what woke you up.
You don't know how long you've been asleep for, and to be honest, you could still need a bit more.
Last night was still clear as day inside your head. Everything that had happened you remembered as detailed as it can possibly get, from you reading that text message to then running out the house and calling Harry to come pick you up. You knew fully well you weren't in the right state of mind to drive, and you were glad that he didn't mind at all.
Sam came with him, both sporting their worried looks once they pulled over and saw your state. Though they didn't ask any questions once you got inside the passenger's seat, neither pushed to give you air to breath, them only knowing that Tom did something terribly wrong by the way you were crying on the phone.
The three of you just drove around the city for a while, windows down with the music blaring to try and get your mind off of it as much as they can. Both ordered pizza and opted on eating in the car that was parked near the River Thames, looking out into the gorgeous view of the Tower Bridge as it shines its lights in the night. You talked about anything and everything but the elephant in the room—well, car.
You only poured everything out to them when you got back to their house. Full on balling on the couch as you try and form a coherent sentence on what just happened. First they were surprised, unable to believe that their brother could do such a thing. Then you saw the anger cross their features little by little, more so with Harry than Sam. You've traveled with Harry quite a lot, you were a little closer with the boy due to the time spent together, but not by much of course.
They offered you the guest room right after, said that you can stay for as long as you need to. They both were real sweethearts about it, and you owe them a lot for keeping you sane for those couple of hours. You couldn't stomach to imagine what you could've done if they weren’t there.
You thought you'd just let them handle Tom, to not come out of the room until he's gone. You have no idea what more you could say or do if you see him again face to face, especially when everything that has happened was only in a span of under twenty-four hours. You were still overwhelmed, a complete mess both physically and emotionally.
But when you heard just how angry Harry was and how Tom was close to reaching there as well, you couldn't just sit still and let the problem grow even bigger. You can't let yourself be the reason that would cause a tear in their relationship with each other. Because by the end of everything, they're still brothers no matter what.
So slowly, you got out of bed, treaded into the living room where you found Sam sat on the sofa. His leg was bouncing anxiously as he listens to his brothers argue, clearly torn on what was the right thing to do. You walked up to him with a small smile, surprise crossing his features once he saw you awake.
He quickly said that he'd try and talk to Tom and make him leave, assuming that you are uncomfortable with him around but you only shook your head no. You told him it's okay to let his older brother in and that you'll just wait in the back garden for whatever it is he wanted to talk about.
Although relunctant, Sam didn't question your decision further. He just pulled you in for a warm embrace before flashing you a reassuring smile and then walking towards the front door.
Once sat on the wooden bench that was right on the back porch, you kept your gaze steady on the greenery in front of you, back facing the house as you tried to clear your head as much as you can. Basically to organized your thoughts and emotions. The cold evening breeze was helping to calm your nerves, your eyes following the gentle sway of the trees and the soft rustle of the bushes, the hum of the wind invading your ears in the most soothing way. It was a serene sight, so comforting, and slowly you felt yourself relax.
But the moment of peace was soon cut short, your eyes screwing shut once you heard the sliding door open and then close. His footsteps were light but the sound was already deafening for you, as if the rest of the world turned mute for you can only hear his shoes hitting the pavement, just ringing in your ears as you waited in anticipation.
Tom sat down beside you with a hold of his breath, heart aching once he saw your tear-stained cheeks, once he noticed how you kept your eyes tightly closed, purely refusing to look at him for even a split second.
His fingers started to fidget as nerves started to consume him. The action was also in a way to stop himself from reaching over to take your hand, to just feel your skin on his, because oh how much he's miss it, how much he's miss you.
He wasted a month of not holding you, of not getting to truly touch you, and he so badly wanted to pull you closer to him now, to make up with the time lost. But Tom wasn't going to push his luck, not going to over step boundaries because he wasn't in the place to make such decisions, not anymore. He knows that there were so little of both left that if he gets too near, he might end up pushing you farther away. He wasn't going to risk it.
On the way here, he's thought about all the things he was going to say to you. He repeated his speech over and over inside his head even though his words were a jumbled mess. It was something at least, a start. But now that he was seating here with you just a couple inches away, Tom's mind has gone blank. With the hundreds of words he's planned on saying, his lips could only let go of one.
"Y/N..."
You could pinpoint so many things with just the simple call of your name. The guilt, the longing, the regret, even the adoration, it was all there. Having known him for a while, you have gotten good at reading him, even if it's only from his voice, from the highs and lows to the different tones. But that was before, now, you weren't so sure if you actually ever knew him at all.
"What are you doing here Tom?" you asked softly, eyes opening with a sigh but still avoiding his at all costs. Tom ran an anxious hand through his hair, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees as he kept his gaze trained on your beautiful face, smile gone and glow dimmed out, but still so beautiful in his eyes nonetheless.
With a deep breath, he spoke, "I-I came here to apologise, for everything. I know it won't do much but I'm not going stop saying how sorry I am. What I did was so fucked up and I am so sorry darling, I really am," Tom paused and waited for you to get a chance to respond. But when you kept looking forward, when you didn't even move a single muscle, he sighed before adding. "And I just need you to know that this is all on me, none of this is your fault, please keep that in mind Y/N. You did absolutely nothing wrong."
You nodded with a shaky breath, and as you gathered all the strength you could muster, slowly you turned to face him.
The look in your eyes only did nothing but sharpen the pain in Tom's chest. Your once joyful orbs were now bloodshot and full of hurt, all because of him. The more he stared into them, the guiltier he got. The weight of what he's done so evident in your gaze, reminding him of all the promises he broke, reminding him just how much he's broke you.
"Do you have feelings for her?" you asked after a few moments of silence, bottom lip trembling despite trying your best for it not to. Tom shook his head with a deep frown, "No, I don't."
He knew where this was heading. You were going to ask him the questions that's been nagging inside your brain, and Tom was going to answer each one with the truth, no second guessing, just pure honesty.
You shifted in your seat, clearing out the lump that formed in your throat before speaking. "Was she better than me in bed?" you trailed off.
Tom couldn't help but wince at the fact that you've thought about it. He felt so disgusted at himself for such an awful deed, so revolted for putting that image inside your brain.
"No. She doesn't compare to you. I'm so so late on realising this but she doesn't make me feel things the way only you can," he answered truthfully, but you looked away.
You just couldn't hold his gaze. To stare at those brown eyes you once called home, those eyes that used to make you feel safe, it's just a sharp stab at your heart knowing that those same eyes betrayed you. It took everything in your power to not break down, unable to think further about everything without bursting into endless tears, unable to believe the words that were coming out of his mouth.
Tom saw this, he saw it in the way you looked at him for that split second, how you just don't trust him anymore. And oh does it hurt, but what did he expect?
You picked at your fingers nails as you kept your head low, trying your hardest to hold yourself together, concealing everything in. But you were grasping onto broken pieces, your heart and mind all fractured, too fragile. The harder you try to keep them as one whole piece, the deeper the cuts you inflict on yourself.
And the picture of him with another woman, touching her in a way that he used to touch you, it feels so vile, an agonizing torture for your already broken heart, and you don't know how much more of the pain you can handle. You don't know how much more you can endure before everything finally falls apart and becomes too damaged to put back together.
But what if that was the right thing to do? What if it was needed to let everything fall apart, to loosen your grip on the broken pieces of yourself for the wounds to heal, for you to be able to start anew? Maybe all you need is for everything to break down completely so you can build them back up, stronger and better.
"She's more beautiful than me isn't she? Has a better body? More talented? She's simply just better than me?" you croaked, trying your best to keep it together. But you were almost there, almost at the point of just letting the whole thing go, to let every emotion come flooding out, the bad and the ugly.
"Fuck no," Tom protested, rubbing a palm across his face in anger, entirely directed at him for planting that thought inside your head in the very first place. He hates seeing you like this, so hurt and full of doubt for no other reason than because of what he did. Tom wanted nothing more than to take away your pain, to take it in himself. He's the one who deserves to suffer, not you, never you.
With a deep breath, Tom tried to keep his emotions steady, gaze still set on you — despite it not being returned since you kept looking forward — his voice soft as he continued, "I know my words don't have any weight for you right now but believe me when I say that you will always be the most beautiful woman I've ever met, both on the outside and the inside, from your heart, to your mind and your soul. You are a gorgeous, wonderful and amazing woman Y/N. Please don't doubt that because of the stupid mistake I did."
The moment you locked eyes with him again, Tom's breath got caught in his throat. Your eyes coated with question, utter distress and seething anger, but the pain, God the pain, Tom can feel it sharp and deep in his bones.
Tears fell from your eyes as tried your best to keep your voice steady, but you just couldn't, with the all the different emotions boiling deep inside, you just couldn't.
"Then why Tom? Why?" you sobbed, Tom's heart shattering at the agonizing sound.
He sat straighter, eyes turning glossy but it never left yours, brown orbs boring into your own. "I-I wish I could give you a good enough reason why I did it but I really don't know. All I know is that I was stupid and it was a huge mistake. I realise that now, a little too late but I did. I took what we had for granted—I took you for granted, and I will always regret it until I die."
"You're just saying the things I want to hear." You shook your head with a soft whimper, breaking his gaze as you shut your eyes, enabling more tears run down and coat your cheeks.
"No darling, look at me," Tom croaked, taking the risk as he reached over to take both your hands in his, and you let him, no flinching, you let him touch you. His heart beat rapidly against his chest as he gave it a squeeze, a silent way of asking you to look at him.
A shaky breath came out of you at the feeling of his warm skin, your tear-filled eyes meeting his own once again, seeing nothing but transparency as he spoke, "I haven't lied to you from the minute I sat here. It's hard to believe, I know. But I swear on Tessa's life I'm telling you the truth, every single word I've said."
Tom moved closer, fingers nervously fiddling with yours as he tried his best to keep his tears at bay. "I-I really do want you back. I want you to come back home, I want to hold you in my arms again but after everything I've done to you, I understand why that won't ever happen. And y-you deserve someone better, so much better than m-me," he choke back a sob, bottom lip trembling at his last sentence.
"You hurt me Tom, so bad," you whimpered, voice laced with so much agony, no more holding everything in as the strong façade you've been putting on crumbles.
To see you break down in front of him, your hands shaking in his grasp, nothing but utter pain coating the dips and valleys of your face, that was all it took for Tom to crack. His tears now streamed down his face, falling freely one after the other as his emotions came crashing through like a tidal wave.
"I-I know darling, I know and I'm s-so fucking sorry," he spluttered, feeling his throat close up as he tried to blink away the tears, to rid of his blurry vision so he can see you. He just wants to see you, cherish every second since he has no idea if there would be a next time after this.
Then delicately, Tom lifted your hand up to his lips, kissing your palm sweetly, all adoringly before he placed it flat against his warm and damp cheek, leaning into your touch with a shaky breath. "I'm so sorry angel," he whispered, voice filled with pure regret and guilt.
You remained silent, still looking into his eyes but you kept still, not knowing where you'll go from here. But then Tom lets out a nervous sigh. "And I want you to know that I—" he cut himself off as cleared out his throat, eyes staring deep into your own before he spoke with absolute sincerity,
"I love you."
Your lower lip quivered with a soft cry, eyes closing as shook your head at him. "That's the first time you've said that to me since you came back home," you said, breath unsteady as you replay those three words inside your head.
Eight letters tied together giving you an overwhelming feeling. That's what it does when you haven't heard those words escape his lips in a long time. And oh how you missed it, you missed hearing him say it, but what did it cause for you to hear it again? Too much, way too much to the point that you were unsure if the words hold the same true meaning as before, doubtful if it meant anything at all or if he just casually threw it in there for the sake of it.
Tom nodded regretfully, letting go of your hand as he went to hold your face, thumb caressing your cheek tenderly, your eyes opening at the feeling of his skin on yours. "And I wish I could've said it to you more often because I truly love you Y/N. If I could go back and change everything, I would in a heartbeat. If I could go back in time I'd tell you over and over just how much you mean to me, how important you are in my life. I'd tell you every hour of every day just how much I love you."
With a sharp intake of breath, Tom leaned forward until his forehead was now resting against yours. His proximity was intoxicating, the tips of your noses were almost brushing and you thought it would be too much, but it wasn't. You welcomed it, the feeling of being so close to him because after everything, his eyes still have the hold against you, Tom will always have a hold against you.
"I love you so much darling and I fucking hate myself for not showing you that enough, because you deserve nothing more than to know that you are loved, to feel that you are loved. And I am so sorry for failing you at both." he whispered, and with one look into his eyes, you knew he was being genuine, his voice was trembling but still, you can hear it, feel it inside you that he was being honest.
But was that enough to make you feel reassured? Was that all enough for everything to go back to the way it used to be?
No, it wasn't. It wasn't enough to let your heart win over your brain.
"I just need space to think, I'm sorry," you muttered softly as you pulled your face away from his grasp, letting out a small sniffle before crossing your arms over your chest in a defensive stance, to hold yourself in a way. Tom felt his whole chest ache, but he didn't protest. He lets you go despite not wanting to.
"No, it's okay love and I completely understand. I wasn't expecting you to just jump back in my arms when I came here. I just really needed to say all of these to you." Tom shot you a small, broken smile before he lowered his head, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.
Silence hung in the air for a few hellish seconds, turning awkward, deafening with each tick. And when you didn't say another word, Tom took that as a sign, took it upon himself to draw a conclusion.
"Uhm—yeah, I-I think this is my cue to leave," he muttered under his breath and stood up from his place, giving you one last glance to see you only spare him a nod, eyes looking anywhere but at him. With a defeated sigh, he started to walk away, but before he could reach the door, your voice stopped him.
"Tom wait—"
He immediately spun around with hopeful eyes to see you on your feet, already facing him with a small frown. Tom was ready, eager to run to you, to hear the words he so desperately need, to kiss you with all that he has as you take him back. But just as how quick he built that hope up, it was slapped away in an instant when you spoke again.
"Can you pack my stuff up for me please? I-I can't—I don't think I can go back at the house," you breathed out, eyes meeting his as you shifted from one foot to the other. "Just my clothes and toiletries, you can throw the other stuff away."
Tom's heart sunk into the pit of his stomach. The thought of you unable to go back to the house, your home, it was heartrending but there was no other person to blame for that. He searched your eyes, tried to read any hesitation on your face, because he can't accept it. He can't bear to fathom the thought of getting rid of each trace of you in the house. Tom won't be able to handle it because it feels like the final nail on the coffin, after it's done then there's nothing more to go back to.
But when he saw nothing, when he saw that you do in fact mean it, that it is what you want, he forced a tight-lipped smile. "Anything you need love."
You nodded somberly, "Just leave it in the front porch and I'll get it once you're done."
No more words were said after that, Tom unable to slip in a response as you turned your back on him. And with a gloomy sigh, he pulled the door open and went back inside the house.
The moment he reached the living room, the twins both stood up from their places on the couch, both sporting worried looks as they watched their older brother walk with his head hanging low.
"Uhm, thank you for looking after her and I'm really sorry," Tom said as met his brother's eyes. The boys saw a glimpse of what happened outside, and by the look on Tom's face, they knew that their brother deeply regrets what he's done. If anything, he needs them more now, and what harm will it do when they cut him some slack? Tom was already beating himself up black and blue, he doesn't need more of it from everyone else, especially the ones he truly cares about.
Sam was the first to approach him, a sympathetic smile plastered on the lad's lips as he gave him a comforting hug, a loving pat on the back before moving out of the way. Harry came into view next, hand rubbing at the back of his neck guiltily as he said, "I'm sorry for being an asshole earlier." Tom shook his head at him with a faint smile. "It's fine Harry. I deserved it."
His brother tilted his head to the side with a sad smile, moving closer to pull Tom in for a warm embrace. "Take care of yourself," Harry muttered. Tom lets out a shaky breath as he gave his brother a squeeze.
"I'll try."
***
It was so hard packing your stuff up. The fuller your bags got, the heavier Tom's heart grew. And it took him so long to get it done because he just needed to take a breather in between, the ache in his heart overwhelming him to the point that he can't stop his tears from free flowing.
On a slightly brighter note, he does have a sweet girl to comfort him, a precious staffy who'd lay her head on his lap whenever she hears him stifle out a few tears.
Tessa was supposed to stay with his parents for a couple more days, but Tom couldn't endure being alone in the house. So, he cut her little vacation short and stopped by at their house on his way home right after you two had the talk. Tom told them what had happened, disappointed looks unavoidable but they still gave him a much needed comfort and a few heartfelt advice, and for that he was grateful.
He drove home and went straight to bed right after, tried to get some sleep but struggled to say the least. But after a few doses of alcohol and a couple more tears, exhaustion took over him eventually.
Now it was midday, the rays of the sun shining through the bedroom windows, wrapping the space with warmth but Tom wasn't mirroring the mood, the clear blue sky unable to lift his spirits up.
He was sat on the floor of your shared closet, eyes trained on the already empty shelves. He stared at it for a couple seconds before his gaze fell right beside him where your suitcase was situated, now filled and entirely full.
Tom blew out his cheeks as he reached over to zip it up, the sound unpleasant to his ears, unbearable that his eyes screwed shut to keep the tears in. His head was already pounding; he figured crying some more wasn't going to help.
After a few calming breaths, he felt something nudge at his arm, lids shooting open to see Tessa with a stuffed animal in her mouth. "What have you got there?" Tom asked sweetly as he took the toy from her grasp, heart aching once he saw what it was.
He looked back at Tessa with a small smile. She's a clever girl but Tom just knows the dog was properly confused as to why he was packing her mummy's stuff up.
It pained him to think about it, that he would have to try and explain to her why you'd be no longer around. Tessa loves you quite a lot, absolutely attached that the pup tends to look for you first each time she's back in the house, a jab at Tom's ego but he adores it nonetheless. Hell, she explored each room when they got back last night, a soft whine coming out her once she didn't find you. And now to come and reflect that you two were going to be separated all because of him, it's just an addition to the guilt that was already filling him up to the brim.
Tom pulled her close to his side lovingly, placing a soft kiss on her forehead as he whispered on her skin with every ounce of remorse,
"I'm so sorry princess."
***
As he sat on the steps of the front porch, Tom's heart and mind were running a hundred miles per second. Your packed up things were sat on his left while Tessa laid flat by his right. The sweet girl still had no clue why they were outside, just sitting and doing absolutely nothing. But Tom was in much need of some company, and she's always happy to give him that.
He'd sent you the text few minutes ago, saying that it was all done and ready to be picked up. It did cross his mind that he wasn't going to do it, that he'll just keep your stuff here so you won't be able to leave, but that's just downright cruel, selfish and disgusting, so he quickly shut the thought down. Now he was left to wait anxiously, fingers picking at the fabric of the stuffed animal that Tessa lent him earlier.
It wasn't long after when a familiar car pulled up into the driveway, his heart hammering even more at the sight of the vehicle. Tom stood from his place with a shaky breath, dread slowly seeping through his skin at the mere thought that it genuinely was happening. That you were really leaving and it wasn't just his mind playing tricks on him.
Tessa perked up when you and Harry came out of the vehicle, the pup not wasting any time as she bolted straight towards your direction. You crouched down to greet her with open arms, a small giggle escaping your lips when Tessa showered you with her kisses.
Tom's heart stuttered at the sight, a feeling of adoration spreading in his chest, but only lasting for a split second as it was quick to be replaced by one with grief. His heart felt like it was getting torn out of his chest at that thought that he might not be able to see this wholesome interaction ever again.
You walked over to the front porch with an unreadable look on your face, Tessa trailing right behind sporting a wide smile as she kept her gaze on you, tail at an all-time wag, still oblivious to what was happening.
"Hey," was all that Tom managed to get out, his heart warming a little at the sight of you, but ached the moment he noticed your puffy face, bloodshot eyes meeting his as you flashed him a faint smile. "I'm taking my car on the way back, so uhm, I think I left the keys inside," you explained, fingers nervously fiddling at the hem of your hoodie.
Tom frowned at that, but he already knew you weren't stepping inside anytime soon. You did ask him to pack your stuff up for that sole reason. To add to that, he also kind of expected that you were going to say that too, so he fished your car key from his pocket and handed it to you.
"I saw it laying on the counter so yeah," Tom trailed off, eyes still set on you as you took the key from him with a slight frown, and when he saw this he panicked. "Fuck, this looks I'm kicking you out or that I'm looking forward to you leaving and came prepared. I'm not. I figured that you would take your car too that's why I have the keys prepared, not because I want you to go, because I really don't want you to go," he rambled before he could even stop himself.
You stared at him for a full second or two, contemplating on what to say — or if you should even say anything at all — but with much thought, not wanting to say the wrong words, you opted on staying silent as you only nodded at him with a hum.
"I think this is everything," Tom cleared his throat to fill up the silence, cheeks all warm and red as he gestured towards your bags. "If I forgot something just let me know," he offered shyly.
You were about to move, to take your things and get this over and done with but before you could even do so, Tom spoke again. "And uhm, I don't know if you wanted to keep him but—" Tom revealed a very familiar stuffed panda from behind him, holding it out for you to take—or not—with a nervous smile.
Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the toy, frown unconsciously deepening as you took it from his hands.
It was the stuffed panda he won for you during your first date at a carnival. You remember it vividly, his grin wide and proud, eyebrows wriggling as he offered you it with a curtsy. Such a memorable night filled with hearty laughs, screams from terrifying rides, clouds of cotton candy and a handful of friendly competitions. The night then ended with him dropping you back home, and as cliché as it can be, with a sweet goodnight kiss at the front of your door, leaving you both smiling like idiots as he drove away.
After that night you had a feeling that there was something special about this boy. And months down the line, you realised you were right as he was quick to snatch your heart without much effort.
You'll always cherish that day, the simpler times as some would say, and the very panda you held in your hands now was a huge reminder of that. Was there any harm in keeping it? You're not sure. The memory does fill you up with genuine happiness, but then the pain follows soon after as you're reminded that it was once like that. The thought that the memories wouldn't be added with more, it hurts, deeply.
But as you looked at the toy again, you don't have the heart to throw it away. You don't have the strength to give it back either, so you held it closer to your chest as you looked back up to see Tom already staring at you in a certain way, a slight gloss coating his brown orbs.
That's when you knew he thought about the same thing too, remembered that same night, that same exact memory. You both held each other's gaze with such intensity, a slight hint of longing in each other's eyes. There were still so many words left unsaid, you both saw that. But neither of you spoke, neither of you dared to move a muscle.
The tension in the air only grew from there, almost turning awkward. That until Tessa nudged at your leg, making you break eye contact with the man in front of you to look at the pup with a curios yet sad smile. You were unsure if you're going to see her precious face again, and gosh it stings. She's your baby too and in no way do you want to leave her, but sometimes the right decisions requires a bit of sacrifice.
"Spend some time with her. Harry and I will take care of your stuff," Tom spoke as he gave you a reassuring smile, already knowing what's going through your head with just a simple look in your eyes.
You gave him a thankful nod, your own lips curving up and Tom felt his heart melt. It was small, didn't reach your ears by all means, but it's genuine, the warmest smile you've given him since everything that has happened.
With one last look at you, Tom took as much of the bags he can carry and made his way towards Harry, who was leaning on his car with his phone in hand. When the lad heard Tom approach, he smiled, helping him set the bags on the floor before pulling him in for a warm hug.
"You look like shit by the way," Harry joked as pulled away and went to open the boot of the car. Tom scoffed playfully at that. "Thanks bro, feel like it too."
Harry tilted his head at his older brother, hand coming up to give his shoulder a squeeze, making Tom meet his eyes. The brothers shared a smile, Harry not needing to say anything for Tom already knew what he was trying to say, that Harry is there for him, as he always is.
"How is she?" Tom asked softly, continuing the task at hand of loading your things in the car. "Still the same," Harry sighed sadly.
The older brother lowered his head with a deep exhale, just utter guilt filling him up from head to toe. His eyes were now staring at the last bag set on the ground, tears welling up again as reality starts to creep on him.
"Hey, she's a strong girl. She'll be okay. You both will be," Harry reassured and all Tom could do was nod. He wasn't sure if was going to be okay after all of this, his future blurry without you in it. But a brave face he can manage, taking in a deep breath as he placed your last a bag in the boot.
He looked back at the front porch to see you sat on the top step, both hands cupping Tessa's face as your lips moved. Tom could make out the glisten on your cheek, the light of the sun reflecting against it, chest heaving in a way that's had your hands slightly shake. He watched you pull Tessa in for a hug, your eyes screwed shut as you placed a loving kiss on top of her head, the pup giving you one big lick on the cheek once you pulled away, her way of returning the gesture.
Tom's heart took at big swing at the sight, a shaky breath coming out of him as he kept his eyes steady on his two favorite girls, bidding their goodbyes despite not wanting to, but having no choice because of the horrible things that he's done.
He caught his sniffle with a clear of his throat, quickly wiping away the tear that managed to slip with the back of his hand as you stood from your place and made your way towards them. Tessa was following you still, demeanor now different as she looked at your figure with a tilt of her head, almost with a frown.
She was definitely still a bit confused, but Tom has a feeling that she knows what was going to happen, and he will definitely have to hold onto her when you... when you leave.
"Everything ready?" you asked, voice a bit hoarse with the obvious tear lines on your cheek but neither boys said anything about it. "Yeah, good to go," Harry answered when his brother stayed quiet. Tom's eyes elsewhere just so he won't become a balling mess yet again.
"Okay, uhm thanks Tom." His head shot up at the mention of his name, flashing you a forced smile with a curt nod to match.
He tried keep at it his silence as he watched you walk to your car, just knowing his emotions would betray him the moment he opens his mouth. Plus, he genuinely doesn't want to make things harder for you again for putting more things in your head to think about. But the moment you opened the door to your car, he couldn't stop himself, he knew he needed to say something.
"Y/N wait—" Tom called out, walking closer towards you, though when you turned back around to face him, he hesitated. He contemplated if it was worth a shot, if he should at least try and ask. But when he took in your frown up to your glossy eyes, the glow and joy on your skin all faded, he inhaled a sharp breath.
"Take care of yourself," said Tom instead, not the same words that were stuck on the tip of his tongue, not the words that his brain wanted to scream into the open.
"You too," you mumbled, quickly getting inside your car, making Tom miss the expression that crossed your face. The car door slamming shut followed by the silent roar of the engine, drowned out the shaky breath you let out, eyes never meeting his again.
There was a simple question not asked. A question that could make things turn around, make this day have a better outcome, but Tom didn't dare to spit it out. He held himself back thinking that it was for the best.
He crouched down to take a strong hold of Tessa's collar as the two cars backed out of the driveway. The pups heartbreaking whines filled Tom's ears, the sound making his tears run down his cheeks, unable to keep them at bay any longer.
There were still words were left unsaid, but there was nothing more he can do with them now as Tom watched your car disappear down the street, eyes steady on the vehicle until the only thing left to see was the skid marks of the tires of your car on the pavement, a reminder that you were once here but may never return again.
***
A week has passed and Tom wasn't feeling any better. If anything, his life just turned shittier with each day gone without you in it.
The house was a complete mess, more so his bedroom with all the crap that's lying around. Said crap ranging from bottles of alcohol – some empty, some half-full – the broken glasses he has yet to pick up, dirty and clean clothes mixed up on the floor, up to the random food wrappers that decorated the area.
Hell, he hasn't even taken a shower in days, that's the state he was in right now. Tom also had to ask his mum to pick Tessa up a couple days ago, given the fact that he can't even take care of himself. Plus, he didn't want to stress the poor girl with him constantly being down in the dumps and more.
Long story short, he was a broken mess, both physically and emotionally. And the light at the end of the tunnel seems too far away where Tom doesn't even believe if it's there to begin with.
But despite wanting to rot in bed for maybe another week or two, to drown in his self-pity basically, he received a few emails that were too important for him to simply shove aside.
So, an hour-long, hot shower and a fresh set of clothes later — and a few pain relievers to help with his headache — Tom made his way outside his room only to look for his computer. Once he found it just on top of the coffee table, he held it in his hands and went straight back to the bedroom.
He couldn't bear to stay outside with the sun shining all bright, especially with it accompanied with the clear blue sky. The beautiful day just makes him feel bad about everything, makes him feel worse about himself. Tom felt more comfortable staying inside the bedroom where the curtains were all closed, the space dark and gloomy to match his mood.
Plopping back down on the bed with his back resting against the headboard, he placed the computer on his lap, taking in a tired breath before turning it on. Much to his surprise, he stared right at a photo of Tessa and him, confusion filling him up at the sight of the lock screen because that wasn't what he set it as. His lock screen was of you and Tessa, not him.
Sure enough when he tilted the laptop up, there he saw your initials written on the bottom surface. A frown made its way onto his lips as he realised that he might have given you his computer instead.
You two have the same computer and the only way to tell which one was who's without seeing the contents, was by the initials on the bottom. And just as cheesy as it can get, you were the one who wrote his initials while he wrote yours. Kind of like an autograph, hence why Tom was staring right at his handwriting, as if it wasn't obvious enough that this was in fact your computer.
At the time you both thought it was just cute and silly, a simple gesture for couples in love. Never did it cross Tom's mind that day that looking at it would bring hurt. But now it does, the gesture turned into remembrance, a mere memory of what it used to be.
He was a mess when he packed your things up. It wasn't unlikely that he missed to check which computer he gave to you. But what confused him was that a week has passed yet you hadn't contacted him, nor did you ask the twins to fetch it for you if you still can't bear to see him again.
It could've been that you haven't noticed yet or could've been something else. Tom has no way of knowing as he hasn't spoken to you since. He does know you're still staying at the twins' house courtesy to Harry, but that's about it.
He was about to reach for his phone to contact said lad but he accidentally pressed on the keys, screen now showing your desktop. Tom frowned with a shaky breath, a picture of you two on the beach glaring right at him. But what caught Tom's attention more was a certain folder, the name too long that he had to click it to show the rest.
B-ideas (If by any chance you're Tom please do not open this folder you're gonna break my heart if you do bub)
That only perked his curiosity even more. And given that he's already broke your heart due to something far worse, he double-clicked it to open. What more could he lose?
Tom felt a sharp stab at his chest as he scrolled through countless amounts of photos of different kinds of cakes, certain venues, and lovely decorations.
B-ideas... Birthday ideas.
He screwed his eyes shut, hand going up to pinch the bridge in utter frustration. First it was your relationship with Tessa, even his family for that matter, and now his birthday. What else did he ruin? Well, aside from the obvious anyway. How many times will he have to be reminded about all the things that are affected due to his mistake? Not enough apparently.
You always loved to plan his birthdays for him. He adored how you always get so excited to ask him a few things or when you keep it a secret as much as possible for it to be a surprise. You've made him the happiest boy every birthday. You make him feel even more special and he was glad to have you by his side each time. But now, he's ruined it by a long shot and his birthdays will never be the same.
As he reached the bottom, Tom found another folder within the folder named: For Slideshow (Gift)
Tom dared to open it as well, the pain in his heart only magnifying at the sight of old photos and videos of you and him. There were a few from all around the world — during the whole press tour to be specific — but most of it was just here in London or right at this very home.
You always went the sentimental route when it comes to his gifts. 'You can buy anything you want now,' as you've said. And despite him telling you that he won't care where you got it from – whether it from Tesco's or whatever – as long as you're the one giving it, then he will cherish that gift with all his heart. But of course, you just had to go the extra mile by making sure it was handmade by you. Whether it's a handwritten letter, a collage, or whatever cute thing it may be, you have never failed to make him emotional with each one, a tear or two shed every birthday.
It looked like you were going for a video compilation this year judging by the name of the folder and the contents of said folder—well, what you were supposed to do but it's not happening now, is it?
It was such a trip down memory lane, just photos upon videos, mostly candid, some intentional jump-scares and a few cheesy yet funny ones sprinkled here and there. The one video that caught his eye first though was the one where it had you and him kissing on the thumbnail.
Tom recognized it right off the bat. He remembers that day clearly to this moment. It was from the set where Harry filmed Roses for Lily, where you and Tom helped with all the little things. And his assumption was proven right when he pressed play...
"And that's a wrap everyone!" Cheers erupted around the field followed by applause as Sam and Sophie took a playful bow.
"Connect it to the speaker and play it on my cue," Tom whispered against Harry's ear, confusion crossing the younger lad's face before Tom jerked his head towards you. Harry shook his head at his brother but took his phone anyway, getting so used to his cheesy ass antics.
This wasn't your greatest week regarding work and school, even more so today. So, Tom thought head lift your spirits up in the cheesiest yet sweet way he can managed.
You were talking with Nikki when Tom suddenly came up to the both of you with an expression that you didn't quite read, hands behind his back as he stood with immense posture.
You narrowed your eyes at him. "Oh no, what are you up to?" you asked suspiciously.
"Will you do me the honour of granting me this dance mi lady?" Tom offered his hand with a curtsy, voice sporting the most posh accent he can muster with a cheeky smile plastered on those pink lips.
You shook your head with laughter at your boy. You turned to look at the woman who you were having a conversation with, only to see her give you two thumbs up with a wide smile, and with that, your gaze landed back on Tom sporting a smile of your own.
"Pleasure is all mine kind sir." You mimicked his accent and took his hand, fits of giggles coming out of you as Tom dragged you towards the front of the bench, the view of the field endless behind you.
He interlaced his fingers with yours as his other hand took home on your waist while yours rested on his shoulder, just like a proper ballroom dance. "We don't even have music you dork," you pointed out the obvious, to which Tom only grinned all proud.
"Says who?" He shot Harry a nod and not long after the soft tune of 'The Way You Look Tonight' by Frank Sinatra filled your ears.
You threw your head back as you let out a loud yet hearty laugh. "You're a huge cheese ball aren't you?" you teased.
"Oh please, you love it," Tom flashed you a knowing smirk as he then starts to swing to the tempo of the music. He guided you with gently care as he spins you out and then pulls you back in again, his background in dancing making it easy for him to lead the dance.
And you always admire this talent of his, adored it with all your heart as you break out to random dances – may it be silly or slow – around the house whenever to whatever music. It was not new to you so you can easily follow his rhythm having dance with him before. Plus, the steps were simple enough for you to catch. And having known each other for a long while, it was easy for the two of you to move in sync.
But then he started to sing, and that caught you off guard.
"Yes, you're lovely, with your smile so warm; and your cheeks so soft; there is nothing for me but to love you; and the way you look tonight."
You can't stop your grin from growing at his sweet voice, heart warm as you stared right into those beautiful brown orbs. Tom doesn't sing much often, not seriously anyway. But when he does, it makes your heart melt ten times over and then some, because the boy can definitely sing.
"Am I wooing you darling?" Tom cooed with a wriggle of his eyebrows, earning yet another laugh from you. And with him being all cheeky with his timing, you didn't get to respond as he continued to sing,
"And that laugh that wrinkles your nose; Touches my foolish heart," Tom sang with a cheeky wink, the smile on your lips ever growing that your cheeks we're starting to hurt, but you could care less.
"Lovely, never, never change; keep that breathless charm; won't you please arrange it? 'Cause I love you; just the way you look tonight,"
He kept singing, not for but to you, dedicating each word, meaning each note that the smile on your lips was impossible to wipe off. Not to mention the simple yet lovely dance, bodies swaying sweetly to the music, it was just like a scene from a movie.
Tom twirled you around courteously, pulling you back closer to him that had both your arms resting over his shoulders. He wrapped his own arms around your form, noses delicately touching as you two mirrored each other's eyes, nothing but the look of love coating them.
And when you nudged his nose adorably, Tom chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling, leaning closer until his lips captured yours in a charming kiss. A kiss so blissful that your hearts were filled with nothing but warmth, spreading from head to toe as you kept dancing to the slowly fading music.
Both of you were unaware that Harry recorded the whole thing, making the little dance, the sweet gesture as pure and raw as it can be. Just two couples in love, cherishing each other's company, adoring one another with everything that they have...
Tom lets out a strangled breath as the video stops, trembling fingers hovering over the space bar as he stared at the still of you, warmly wrapped in his arms, absolutely content, delighted and purely in love.
Next thing he knew, Tom found himself watching videos upon videos of you and him, endless clips that showed just how happy you two were, how happy you made him. Each video showed him the way you use to glow, smile bright as day while your eyes were filled with nothing but pure adoration, a blissful expression on your face and oh how stunning it looks on you. Pure happiness suited you so much and Tom took that away. He took away your shine; he snuffed out that radiance you always bring whenever you're in the room.
He only decided to stop when Tom felt his chest tighten harshly, breath turning uneven as his eyes started to burn. He was about to close the laptop, to set it aside and give himself a breather, but then he saw another one with a thumbnail that has only you in it. Despite being too emotional, despite deciding that the torture was enough, his curiosity was stronger. So, he played it...
"...right, is this recording? Yup, it is, okay."
You sat back on the chair after you adjusted the camera – which Harry kindly let you borrow – on the little desk you had in yours and Tom's shared bedroom. "It's a little too early to make a video message since your birthday is months away but I've got nothing better to do so," you trailed off, adjusting your hair before sitting up and smiling at the lens.
"To the man of my dreams, my knight in shining armour, to my handsome prince," you paused with a scrunched of your nose. "Oh gosh too cheesy. Okay, reel it back, whew, okay, Thomas, spider-boy—well, more like spider-baby..." You let out a laugh at that, shaking your head at yourself before taking in a deep breath and looking back straight at the camera.
"To the absolute love of my life, Tom, happy birthday. Oh now, where do I start? Well, I can start with how proud I am of you. The fact that you've achieved so much in so little time? I couldn't be any prouder. You're the most hardworking man I know, it's not really a surprise how you got to where you are today. But despite all the accolades, the awards you've won — and soon to win — there's always one award, well two actually that's far more important than the rest. First one is you-being-such-an-incredible-human award. You, Tom have the kindest most compassionate heart I've ever had the pleasure of seeing. I could list so many great things but then we'd be here all day, just ask me it later and I'll send it to you in post," you giggled. "But trust when I say that you are a true hero, even without the mask."
"And well, the second award, oh gosh, it's the best-boyfriend award. Forgive my cheesiness — although you do like it — but it is in fact true. You, Thomas, you make me the happiest girl ever. I—oh no here comes the water works," you joked, fanning your eyes in an attempt to keep the tears at bay. And when you felt like you can hold it together, you continued,
"I feel so lucky to have you in my life. You've always been there for me through the good, the bad and the ugly. I don't think I could've made it pass things without you Tom and for that thank you. Thank you for sticking with me through thick and thin. For being my shoulder to cry on when I really need one, for being such a great listener and for being my rock. Thank you for helping me through the hardest times bub," you paused to take a deep breath, eyes glossy but with a proud smile on your lips nonetheless.
"...granted our relationship isn't perfect, we've had our disagreements and petty fights but I wouldn't trade it for anything else. I wouldn't trade you for the world, Tom. I am happy to be with you, so content with what we have. We've laughed together, cried together, we've grown together, and as promised, we're going to be there for each other, always." you let out a soft giggle to try and clear the lump in your throat, blinking rapidly to keep it in, though it already obvious in your eyes that you weren't going to be successful.
"And lastly... I love you so much Tom. My heart could literally exploded with just how much, and I just want you to know that whatever it takes, whatever challenge life will hurl at us, whatever happens in the future, I will always, truly, with all that I am, lov—"
"Darling? Where are you?" Tom's voiced echoed down the hallway, halting your words as you turned your head towards the door. With a sweet laugh, you look back to the camera. "You and your impeccable timing Thomas."
You quickly wiped the tears that managed to escape your eyes, making sure you don't look suspicious to not ruin the plans of surprise.
"Sweetheart?" Tom called out again.
"Bedroom babe!" you answered, taking in deep breaths before reaching for the camera. "I'll finish this later I guess. I'll see you—well in a couple seconds but future you sometime soon, love you!"
And with a blow of a kiss, you turned the camera off...
The whole bedroom turned eerily quiet as the screen turned pitch black. Almost quiet aside from the soft tap, tap, tap – the sound of Tom's tears hitting the computer keys, one after the other.
Tom stifled out a whimper as he screwed his eyes shut, hand coming up to tug at his hair in anger, sorrow, regret, hurt. You were good to him, you were everything to him and more. How could he waste that? He lost someone so rare, someone who's out of this world from beauty to heart. No one could ever replace you, nobody will ever come close to how much of an amazing person you are, how special and lucky you made him feel.
He had everything, and he threw that away.
As he tried to catch his breath, he reached for his phone, dialing the number of the only person who'd give him comfort but without all the bullshit.
"Hey Harrison, I know you’re probably still disappointed with me right now too but I just really need someone to talk to..."
***
"...and then I found this folder of hers that has all these ideas for my birthday. It even had old photos and videos of us but what struck me the most was her video message and I just—" Tom stopped to catch his breath, wiping away the tears on his face before he looked up a Harrison with a soft sob, "I ruined so much."
"You did," the lad answered bluntly, no sugar coating, no bullshitting. He wasn't going to say the words that his friend wanted to hear, if he kept doing that then how will he learn?
Tom buried his face in his hand in shame, sniffing loudly before lifting his head up again, face all puffy as he met his best friend's eyes with his bloodshot ones. "I miss her so much Haz, and I really want to fix things between us, to have her back. But I don't have a chance anymore."
Harrison frowned at that. He knows the full scope of the situation, but he doesn't recall you saying those exact words, well, as what Tom has explained to him anyway. "Did she say you don't have a chance anymore or did you just put words into her mouth?"
You didn't. You haven't told him those exact words, but your actions were an enough sign right? Tom leaned back on the couch, hand running through his hair with an exasperated sigh. "She told me to pack up her things, I think that's a clear message that it's over," he grumbled.
Harrison shook his head at his friend disapprovingly, "Tom, she has been fighting for your relationship for more than a month and you're already giving up in a week? After what you've done, I think you need to fight harder than that mate. Put more effort in, you owe at least that to her."
Tom frowned at his words, guilt growing more intense as the gears started to turn in his head. Did he really give up that easily? Could he have done so much better? If he asked you to sta—
But then the nagging voice was quick to shut down his questions. A certain reason why he feels like he can do nothing about it grew louder in his mind, said reason he felt the need to speak out loud.
"She deserves someone better than me Haz. I broke her heart and I—" Tom rubbed the nape of his neck. "I don't think I deserve another chance," he concluded in defeat.
Harrison sighed, placing a comforting hand on Tom's shoulder before he began. "Okay look, there are only two paths you can choose regarding this. Path one, you can mop around, drown in your pity party and just give up with everything like a fucking wuss. Or path two, you can get off your ass, thrive to be better, right your wrongs and be the man that she deserves. You have to fight for her if you truly want her back Tom. It's just a matter of choice," Harrison finished as he shot him a knowing look.
"I think you've been so busy telling yourself that everything is too late, but what if it's not yet? You think it's too late, but is it actually too late for her? What if she just needs more persuasion? What if she just needs a proper reassurance that you're going to make things right? For you to truly show her that you do in fact still love her? All I'm saying here Tom is that you won't know the answer to these questions unless you ask them, unless you give them a try. We don't get what we want easily, you have to work hard for it." Harrison added.
Tom stared at his best friend in pure shock and amusement given that he's never heard him sound so wise with advise before. They usually do stupid shit together, and when it comes to relationships, they both can be as equally as clueless.
But nevertheless, Tom felt like his eyes got opened, a new perspective settling in his mind and he will be forever grateful at Harrison for that.
"Fuck you're right." Tom didn't waste any more time as he got up from his place and went to go get his keys. Harrison sat there bewildered, calling out to Tom again when he saw him go towards the front door, "Where are you going?"
Tom turned to his friend with a small yet hopeful smile, the most he's felt in a while, "I'm getting her back."
***
Sam looked at his brother in complete surprise once he pulled the door open, "Tom what are yo—" the lad cut himself off once he saw Tom's face, clear in his expression who he was looking for.
"She didn't tell you," the twin muttered with a frown, his sudden change in demeanor making Tom worry. "Didn't tell me what Sam?" he asked cautiously. Tom thought he already prepared for the worst, thought that he can handle any sort of rejection, but when his brother spoke again, all the color drained out his whole body.
"Harry drove her to Heathrow thirty minutes ago."
It took a few seconds for Sam's statement to finally sink in. And when it did, Tom cursed as he quickly turned on his heel and ran, heart pounding, head spinning.
"Tom, wait!"
Sam didn't get a chance to stop him as he was already back inside his car, engine roaring as he veered into the road at top speed. He was driving dangerously, Tom was aware of that, but he can't let you step even a toe in that plane. If he does, then it will really be too late.
***
"Come on Harry, pick up, pick up, come on lad pick u—Harry! Which terminal?" Tom asked in haste, fingers drumming against the wheel impatiently.
"Huh? Terminal?"
"Bro, I beg, just tell me which terminal you dropped her off, please." Tom heard Harry sigh on the other line, his anxiousness growing with each silent second, and when his brother gave him the information, he felt the tears prick at the back of his eyes.
"Terminal 2... She's off to Abu Dhabi."
***
Tom's lungs were gasping for air, both from him running as fast as he can, and from the fear that was overwhelming him to every bone. Fear that he might not catch you on time.
The crowded airport wasn't helping his anxious state at all, his eyes quick to dart around as he tries his best to look for you. He asked around, looking like a lunatic as he shows your picture to random strangers. He even asked at the desk just to narrow where you could've gone, to make it easier to find you in this huge haystack. And when he hadn't had much luck, Tom was quick to assume that you already got pass security.
It may had been dumb, but everything he's done at this point has been dumb, what's the worst thing that could happen if he tried to get pass the guards?
But before he could even attempt and sneak his way in, a large, tall man blocked his way. "Boarding pass?"
Tom shook his head, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, mind an utter mess that it was hard for him to think straight, "I-I don't have... it's an emergency please I–"
"Sir, you're not allowed inside if you don't have a ticket," the security reprimanded, hand held up as he stops Tom's chances of slipping by. He's an idiot really, thinking that he can talk his way through, but he tried it anyway, begged in desperation just so he can find you before you get on that plane. "Please just let me through, it will be quick, I just need to—"
"Tom?"
Never had he ever turned around so quick in his life, relief washing over him once he saw you standing there, bottle of water with a receipt in hand, confusion written all over your face at the sight of him.
Tom just ran straight towards you, his burly body almost knocking you out of balance as he buried his face on the crook of your neck, arms engulfing you tightly, like he's holding onto you for dear life. Tom's whole body shaking as he balled his eyes out, a stuttering mess when he tried to speak to say the least.
"N-no, p-please don't leave me, I-I can't—I can't do this without you, p-please don't leave," Tom sobbed against your skin, his hold around you vise-like but just enough for it not to hurt. He's just downright scared to loosen his grip for you might vanish into thin air if he does.
You tried to pull him off of you but a useless effort as he is much stronger than you. And the harder you try, the firmer his grip on you becomes, muttering his protest over and over of him not wanting to let go. You sighed, "Tom, look at me, bub..."
Tom lets out a whimper at the nickname, pulling away just slightly until he was able to rest his forehead against yours, his warm tears dropping on your cheek and your heart stung at the feeling.
"Breathe for me," you whispered, cupping his face with both hands. Your thumb caressed his cheek tenderly, wiping away the tears that ran down them as much as you could. Tom did as told, attempting to steady his breathing, the warmth in your eyes helping him by a mile.
When he finally got a hold of himself, he took one deep breath before speaking. "I should've asked you before you could even leave the house, should've chased after you. I should've fought harder for you. I wanted to ask you this before you got into your car and I didn't, which was a mistake," he trailed off, clearing out his throat as he gave you a gentle squeeze.
"I should've at least tried and asked you stay. I hope it's not too late but now I'm asking, begging you to stay. I want you to stay with me, please?" Tom pleaded, ready to be on his knees but you stopped him, he didn't need to be. Your fingers traced his jaw delicately, heart aching at the sight of broken man in front of you, but you've already made a decision. It was hard sticking to it now with him here, but you just had to remind yourself that this was for your own sake. You've already thought this through and it was final.
"I—I can't," you paused as the number of your flight echoed through the speakers. You turned back to Tom with a soft whisper, "You know I can't."
"At least you could've said goodbye?" he squeaked, voice breaking at the fact that your mind was already set, and when that happens, even before your worlds got flipped upside-down, it takes so much to change it.
"I couldn't, because I know for a fact if given the time, you might actually change my mind. Hell, just seeing you right now, it's already making me doubt my decision. But I need this Tom, I need to do this for myself. I've realized that my world revolved too much around you, and I don't regret it at all but I need to find my own path, grow as my own person."
Tom nodded dejectedly, eyes shut tightly because he knows he would have to let you go in a couple minutes. He needs more time, he wants more time with you. But when he heard your flight getting called again, Tom knew there was not much he can do about it.
"But when are you coming back?" he asked, voice frail but full of dread. And Tom felt his heart shatter some more when you looked away, his frown deep and sorrowful as he muttered, "You're not planning to."
You shook your head with a close of your eyes. "No. I am... I just don't know when," and it was true. You were going away for quite some time but you have a life here in London as well. It would be too hard to stay away. But as of now, you don't think you'll be back anytime soon.
As you open your eyes to look at those brown orbs again, you knew he understood.
He always does. Tom is quick at that when it comes to you. Not needing a whole lot of words to know what you mean, one look in the eyes will suffice. Tom couldn't say much more either, so he lets his action speak for itself instead.
He pressed his lips against yours, the gesture catching you off-guard but only for a split second as you melted in his arms not long after. Tears slipped pass your eyes at the feeling, the feeling of his lips you've missed dearly, and Tom was the same. He missed how your lips fit perfectly with his, he missed how warm it feels, tender and soft.
It was a bittersweet kiss with the sense of goodbye laced in it, but it was beautiful nonetheless, special in a way as two hearts melt into one once more. Neither of you wanted to pull away. You just wanted to be stuck in the moment on repeat, destroy the buttons so that it plays on a never-ending loop. But when you heard your name through the speakers, you had no choice but to pull away.
As you stared into each other's eyes, both of you knew there was one more thing left to say, and as you did, as you spoke with nothing but sincerity, your hearts were filled with nothing but pure—
"I love you Y/N."
"And I love you Tom."
And with that he lets you go, hands going limp at his sides as he watches you gather your things and walk towards security. Before you could disappear out of sight, you spared him one last look over your shoulder, a smile written on your lips, one that was genuine, filled with adoration and... love.
It was a look that would always be burned in Tom's memory, but hopefully it won't be the last. Hopefully, with every choice made from here on out, if it's destined, then you'll find your way back to each other.
-:-:-:-:-
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Hawks x reader lemon An acceptable apology and an unexpected visit.
Warnings: This is absolute filth. Extreme dom hawks with spanking,Dom sub dynamics,a dash of angst, office smut, and just general smut. It's my first fic so try not to judge to harshly. If you guys enjoy it I'll open requests and do more. Ps: I am incredibly nervous posting this.
You've been warned:
Dating a pro hero was never easy. They were always busy with paperwork, patrols or undercover missions. Dating the number 2 pro hero was damn near impossible. Somehow though, here you were sitting in a shapartment waiting on the winged hero to get home. Hawks was charismatic and energetic and that definitely translated to the bedroom. The sex was phenomenal and the love was passionate. He was always bringing you gifts and when he found the time he would plan out elaborate dates for the two of you that were thoughtful and fun. Lately though he had been working overtime investigating the LOV in anticipation of an attack. He wouldn't get in until long after you'd fallen asleep. He would then leave before you woke up with a gentle shake and apologetic kiss on the forehead. The commission had given him a positively brutal schedule and he hadn't had a day off in over a month since accepting the mission.
You were trying your best to stay awake but sleep finally won you over and you had drifted off to sleep on the sofa. The hero had planned to be home for dinner but ended up sending an apology text last minute after receiving some new Intel on the case. As you drifted into the welcoming arms of your slumber the dinner you had spent hours making was still on the table. It had long since gotten cold but you hadn't been able to bring yourself to put it away. It was well after midnight when the hero finally landed on the balcony of the penthouse, shaking the snow from his tired wings and sliding the door open. He glanced around and his eyes landed on your silhouette on the couch wrapped in a blanket. Sighing he turned to grab something quick to eat from the kitchen and saw the table set for two. His gut tensed and he felt the sense of guilt that he had become all to familiar with.
"damn....." He mumbled as he started to clear the table putting the delicious looking food into Tupperware and loading the dishwasher. Once everything was clean he walked quietly over to you and scooped you up taking you to your shared bed. He knew he'd have to make it up to you somehow but all he could think of right now was sleep.
Five thirty had come far to soon for Keigos liking as he slammed his hand onto the alarm clock by your bed. He stood up and showered and got ready to go back to work. You began to wake as he left the bathroom and the florescent light hit your eyes. Sleepily you groaned and looked at him in his hero costume ready to leave you yet again.
"Kei?"
"Shit! sorry angel I was trying to be quiet. Go back to sleep, Ill text you around lunch." He walked over and gave you a deep apologetic kiss as he tucked the blankets around you.
" You have to work again? Its Sunday and you said you might be able to get off."
" I know but I've got to complete the paperwork today and its a mountain on my desk. I'm sorry. I should be off someday soon though and ill make it up to you."
" You always say that." You hadn't meant for it to come out so harshly but you were sleepy and annoyed. Keigo blinked and stared at you for a moment before finally speaking.
" I know angel but the mission is almost over. It's literally just paperwork. I've gathered all of the Intel that the commission requested."
"Fine. Ill see you tonight I guess." You rolled over feeling slightly guilty at how cold your words had been. Sighing Keigo walked out to the balcony and headed to his office across the city.
You awoke a few hours later and went into the kitchen to get breakfast. You saw your phone on the counter and saw that he had texted.
BIRDBOY: You awake love?
You hastily typed a quick message.
Y/N: Yes, do you want me to bring you lunch?
BIRDBOY: No, I don't really have time I've got a budget conference call at lunch and still have to complete my reports.
God, why did he even bother texting you back. He might as well be dating the commission. Then a thought popped into your head. It was kind of mean but he deserved it. You took off your leggings and t-shirt and threw on some red lacy panties he had bought you for Christmas and a matching bra and tousled your hair a bit snapping a quick aerial picture.
Y/N: But I miss you daddy...
*attachment*
You sat on the couch eagerly waiting for him to reply. It took a few minutes and he had started typing and stopped several times.
BIRDBOY: Angel, what are you doing? You know not to send me pictures at work. It's not nice to get daddy worked up before a business call.
Y/N: Well its not nice to leave me this wet either.
You knew that you were pushing it. His daddy kink always put him in his dom head space and testing him wasn't always a good thing. He could be positively relentless with his punishments if you went to far.
BIRDBOY: You are pushing it baby.
Y/N: Well you aren't here so I guess ill just have to take care of it myself.
You knew that would do it. He was going to lose it, but still you had already hit send so no turning back now
BIRDBOY: Don't you fucking dare. You know the rules! Don't test me darling.
You left him on read and went to the bedroom to grab some black thigh high stockings and a garter belt. Putting on some heels and a long pea coat. This was possibly the gutsiest thing you'd ever done but you were going to pack up last nights dinner and take it to him at work. He deserved to suffer a little bit after all. Grabbing a scarf you hailed a cab and made your way to the office ignoring your phone which was buzzing with angry texts at your lack of response no doubt.
As you pulled up to the tall silver building you felt yourself getting more and more nervous. You were practically naked under a coat and going to your boyfriends job. This was dangerous and uncharted territory. Keigo always took his job so seriously. As you watched the floor number flash on the screen in the elevator you felt more anxious. Finally it dinged and the doors slid open. You made your way to his secretaries desk. Clearing your throat.
"Hi Jamie....um I brought Hawks lunch" She beamed up at you and tapped her desk.
"He is about to be on a call, if you leave it here ill make sure that he gets it." Part of you wanted to do it. Somehow you mustered up some nerve though.
" Um.... actually I was hoping to give it to him myself.....we were planning on eating together. Ill just sit quietly in his office until hes done. He's expecting me." You looked at her praying that she wouldn't check.
" Oh! okay he must have forgotten to tell me, go on in." Oh thank god, You walked to the big steel door and turned the handle. Walking in you saw him staring at papers and biting a pen. He didn't even look up.
"Jamie, I'm about to be in a meeting whats up?"
You cleared your throat and waited. He looked up and dropped the pen staring.
" I um...brought you lunch"
" Angel, I told you I couldn't have lunch today what are you doing here?" He studied your body like a predator shaking and looking down you began to speak.
" Um.....well..... I thought id just bring it I can go. " Placing the basket on the ground you turned finally losing nerve. What were you thinking. Coming to his office like this? In a flash of crimson he was over to you grabbing your arm and turning you to face him. He cupped you chin forcing you to look up into his golden irises as he spoke.
"I told you to stay home and wait. Impatient are we?" you grabbed the buttons of your coat to keep him from discovering your secret and kept eye contact trying not to break.
" I just want you to eat that's all you jerk."
"Tch- So disrespectful, its sir or daddy not jerk. Now go sit on the couch until after my meeting. It seems we need to have a little chat, and since you can't seem to respond to my texts or use proper honorifics today you'll have to spend that time coming up with a damn good reason I shouldn't teach you a lesson when we get home." He smirked and pointed to the bright red couch on the opposite side of his office and turned to sit back at his desk.
What a cocky asshole. He was so full of himself sometimes. Still though considering everything you'd done already you figured that you better not push it so reluctantly you complied.
" Good girl. Now don't you dare move a muscle until I finish this call do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yes....sir."
He smiled as his phone rang. He took the call and began going over expense and damage reports.
-One hour later-
You had been sitting here for an hour. This asshole had had several openings to end the call but he just kept talking. He would smirk at you every time. God this was torture. Why did he have to be such an ass sometimes? Finally after the fourth opening to wrap things up and he refused you decided that he deserved to suffer. He had told the guy on the phone to go over the quarterly reports one more time for his notes so you knew you had time. You stood up and his eyes darted to you and narrowed.
Slowly you undid the tie of your coat and unbuttoned it revealing your bright red lingerie and smiled at him. His eyes went so big you had to smile. You laid back on the couch and began to stroke your folds throwing your head back. You felt those golden orbs on you. suddenly you felt a feather wrap your wrists. Jerking your head up you saw him crook his finger. The feather began to pull you towards him....oh shit.
You made it to his desk and he sent one feather to lock the door and the other to sharpen and cut off your panties. He bit his lip looking at you. Reaching to the phone he hit mute.
" Now, since you don't know how to listen today here's whats going to happen." He began unbuckling his belt.
" You are going to come over here and sit that pretty little pussy on my cock and you aren't going to move or make a sound until daddy is done with his phone call got it?" He shimmied his cargo pants down revealing his throbbing cock. Gulping you looked at him
"....yes daddy....I won't make a sound."
"Good girl now come on." You shuffled over straddling his lap and lowered yourself onto his cock. He reached over to unmute the call.
The call went on talking about numbers and deadlines for a few minutes and you could feel your resolve slowly crumbling. He reached his hand between you and began lazily rubbing your clit as he continued the call. You had to bite your lip to keep the moans from escaping. You shifted your weight a bit and you felt him throb inside of you. He gave you a dangerous look and you stilled instantly. He began vigorously rubbing your sensitive nub. Fuck this man was the devil. Biting his shoulder you could feel tears welling up. You had to get some relief. This was absolute torture.Fuck you were going to cum. You couldn't stop the whimper that escaped as you felt yourself nearing the edge. His ministrations abruptly stopped as he grabbed a fistful of your h/c hair and yanked your head back.
" Everything okay Hawks?" what was that?" the gentleman on the line asked. He looked at you with rage and replied.
" Everything is fine sir, I just got a paper cut. Listen, I think I've got what I need for now so why don't I finish these reports and call you tomorrow afternoon?"
" Sounds good we'll talk then." Keigo clicked the phone off and forced you to meet his gaze again.
" I said not to make a sound y/n. You are being such a brat today." whimpering apologetically you looked at him. Rolling his eyes he yanked you off of him by your hair and bent you over his desk displaying you perfectly. Kicking your legs apart he leaned down over your back and bit the shell of your ear and growled . You let out another involuntary whimper
" Does my angel want to cum?" you nodded feeling yourself turning to jello beneath him.
" I can't fucking hear you slut."
"...yes sir" was all that you could choke out
" Not good enough. Lets teach you some manners first." He reached over to his phone and hit the speed dial for his secretary.
"yes sir?"
" Jamie, why don't you head out to lunch for a bit on me. Use the company card. We both deserve a break. I'm going to eat here with y/n."
" Thank you sir! I've been wanting to try that new sushi place!"
"Knock yourself out, you deserve it." He clicked the phone and listened until he heard her gather her things and go.
" Don't fucking move." He reached down and you heard him rustling with his clothes. Something dropped next to your face and your eyes shot open. His belt was displayed right next to your face. Leaning down again he spoke.
"Now princess you are going to count for daddy got it? You'll get five with my hand for sending me that photo, Five with my feather for not texting me back, and five with my belt for being a needy brat during my call and not listening. Do you understand?" You could feel yourself shaking.
" ..Ye..yes daddy."
A harsh slap echoed as her hit your ass with incredible force.
"o....one" you cried another slap echoed through the office
"Tu...two" the next three came so quickly you could barely keep count. There was no way to anticipate his pattern. You could feel your ass stinging already.
"Three.......fo...four...FIVVEEEEE!!!!!"
He smirked pulling out a feather and hardening it into a makeshift switch and backing up to admire his handy work. Bright red hand prints covered your ass. He Pulled back and hit you with his feather causing your entire body to lurch forward onto the desk with force.
"FUCK! one." With a swish he landed another on your thigh
"TWO!!!" It was like he was hitting you harder with each go. The last three caused more tears to obscure your vision. Dreading what was next you saw the blurred outline of the belt slide off of the desk.
" Last set angel, You okay? Remember the safety colors? Where are we at?" You felt a rush of relief as you heard the concern in his voice. Green meant good yellow slow down and crimson (your safe word) full stop. You and he both knew he'd never been this rough so he was checking in.
"st...still green daddy...g..green." You stuttered out.
" Good girl" he praised
"Okay, lets continue." He folded the belt in half an pulled back to take aim.
SNAAAAPPPPP!
The belt hit your ass ...hard.
"One" you felt so raw beneath him shaking and numb from the sting.
The rest of the hits echoed and caused you to melt into a puddle beneath him. Cunt practically drooling from pleasure and pain. He dropped the belt and positioned himself. Cock pulsating as he grabbed your hips he spoke.
" Color angel?" Eager to come you answered instantly
"Green."
" If you want it fucking beg. Beg like the needy slut you are beg for me right fucking now"
" Puh...please daddy I need it. Please fill me up I can't take it anymore" He smiled and shoved his full length in with a thrust and began to relentlessly pound you into the desk. His pace was brutal but it was like he was hitting every single nerve. A knot starting to form in your abdomen you started to whimper.
" Can I cum daddy PLEASE!!!!!!! Oh my god!" you were begging trying desperately to hold it in. He would be so angry of you came without permission.
" No." he said simply as he continued his assault
You bit your arm closing your eyes.
"Please.....daddy please." You were a blubbering mess but you didn't care you needed release.
"NOW!" he yelled. With a scream you came with him Your walls fluttering as his seed filled you with pulsating rhythmic thrusts. Collapsing on top you sweaty and spent. You both laid there in a perfect heap of ecstasy and release.
After a few minutes he picked you up and released your hands carrying you over to the couch. HE sat down placing you in his lap and began stroking your hair.
" You did so well angel. So perfect for me." he cooed all you could manage was a hum.
" I'm sorry love, i'll take tomorrow off for a personal day. I know its hard but I love you and you are so amazing for sticking with me. I love you so much." He smiled.
Sending a feather to his mini fridge to get a bottle of water he unscrewed the top and handed it to you.
"Drink this angel." You felt the cool liquid slide down your throat steadying you and bringing you back down.
"How about I take the rest of the day off. I'll fly us home, run us a bubble bath and we can order some take out from your favorite place and watch a movie. How does that sound love?"
" That sounds perfect." You rasped out
"I'm so sorry my love. I hope you can forgive me."
"I should visit more often for apologies." You said with a smile. Nestling into his chest. Everything was perfect.
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Locs
Pairing: Angel Reyes x Black!OC
Summary: Inspired by that tweet: ‘Him: Your hair is so pretty. Her: Pull it then’.
Warnings: Oversimplification of wash day, sexual content.
Word count: 2K
Maya’s bottom half numbed from sitting on the wooden stool in front of her bathroom’s vanity for too long. Her boyfriend, Angel Reyes, stood behind her making silly faces in the mirror. She pretended to be annoyed with his antics, but eventually she always gave into the laughter bubbling up in her belly.
Angel had shown up when she wasn’t expecting him, half way through wash day with her hair piled up in a puffy ball on top of her head. She hadn’t been in the mood for any visitors, especially not any she was romantically involved with, but he assured her it was fine.
“You’re always beautiful to me, mama.” His sweet words and soft kisses proved to be the secret passcode for entrance. She rolled her eyes, but secretly she was melting on the inside. Angel trailed closely behind her as she made her way back to the bathroom, assuring her that he’d help with whatever.
Maya handed him the bottle of moisturizer with strict instructions. “Make sure you use enough to get my roots and ends really good, but don’t get crazy. This shit costs like $30 a bottle.”
Angel’s eyebrows rose dramatically.
“I know! You sent me to get it last time, remember? I was looking at the cashier like, huh? 30 dollars? What the fuck did I get?”
She snickered.
“What’s even in this shit? Let me see.” He looked at the bottle with wide eyes, mumbling his way through the ingredient list. She let him carry on for a minute before she swatted his arm.
“Excuse me, sir! I’m going to need you to focus on the task at hand. I don’t have all day.”
“Beauty takes time, darling.” He mimicked her, repeating the same thing she told him when she made them late on date nights.
After a mini-tutorial, Angel got to work and was surprisingly gentle. She expected him to be over it within five minutes, but he was excited and proud of himself. The difference the moisturizer made could be seen and felt as he went through each section. The fruity, tropical scent of the product was her signature smell; the same smell that whirled around his head when he took her for rides on his motorcycle, and long after the two of them had separated.
“Whats next?”
She told him to detangle her hair with the special brush, starting from the bottom and slowly working his way to the top. Despite a few snags, he pressed on and Maya was no worse for wear. It was nice to achieve the results without having to deal with her arms being achy and tired.
“You know, when I was on my way over here, this is not the head I had in mind.”
The things that came out his mouth were so outrageous!
“Wait-- what?”
Maya’s head fell back as she erupted into a fit of giggles, water droplets raining on Angel’s shirt and face with her movement. He sputtered as if she had tried to drown him, but she couldn’t find the composure to apologize.
“I’m working here.” He sassed, pushing her to sit up straight. “I’m trying to be professional, but you gotta help me by being a good client.” His serious face was enough to set her off into another round of laughter, but she appreciated him taking it seriously. Angel knew she valued her hair, so he did too. Maya did her best to look thoroughly reprimanded, patting his jean-clad leg in apology.
“Thank you, papa. You’re the best.” She flirted, grinning innocently. He leaned down to kiss her lips, a shy smile gracing his face. She kept the compliments flowing, stroking his thick beard. “You’re so cute.”
He nuzzled into her neck like a kitten, purring under the attention. She kissed him again, giving him what he knew to be bedroom eyes. Angel pulled away with a groan.
“Professional.”
He moved through the final section fairly quickly after grasping the technique. Maya turned her head from side to side, preening in the mirror.
“I think I might just keep you.”
Their eyes met in the mirror, a mischievous glint in both pairs.
Angel bent at the knees, and Maya scooted forward so that he could sit behind her on the small stool. His arms encircled her waist as they both shifted to get comfortable.
“I’ve been out here buying $300 bottles of conditioner, looking up date ideas on Pinterest like a lame, and the whole time all I had to do was help you with your hair?”
“$300, Angel? Really? And I never told you to join Pinterest, I just told you not to bring me to the same places as all your other bitches. It’s not my fault you’ve been running around town with a bunch of girls, you little ho.” It had taken Angel a couple of weeks to get her sense of humor. She liked busting his balls.
Still, he asked. “What am I going to do with you, niña loca?” The soft tone he used warmed her insides.
Love me.
Bright eyes met again in the mirror as they studied their joined reflection with fascination. They looked at each other all the time, but never at themselves together. Angel’s chin rested on her head; deep russet skin complimenting rich mahogany. Dark coffee-colored eyes met burnt sienna, straight, onyx hair meeting coily, brunette.
Neither of them spoke, too afraid to break up the magic of the moment.
Big fingers tickled the backside of her thighs, the warmth from his skin and chill from his metal rings making her shiver. The action was innocent enough, but she knew Angel. He was always in the mood, always testing her to see if she felt the same. Her center tingled when his calloused hands found their way to her lap, touching the bare skin between her legs where her shorts had ridden up.
Yes, Angel was testing her.
He had done the same thing two nights earlier, coming to Maya for comfort after a hard night.
***
“Did you ride your bike here like this?”
Maya scanned her front yard for Angel’s motorcycle even though she hadn’t heard it. She smelled the alcohol on his breath, saw the way he swayed slightly with each step.
“No.” He mumbled just as she noticed his brother, Ezekiel, parked near the curb in a pickup truck. She had only met him in passing as he and Angel were going through a rough patch. He nodded at her from the truck, and she barely managed to wave to him before Angel was on her, hot mouth at her neck, big hands groping her all over.
“Wait a second, babe.”
She wasn’t in the mood to give her neighbors a show, but Angel was relentless.
“I can’t. You’re so fineeee. And you smell so gooood.” He kept mumbling nonsense under his breath, reattatching himself to her every time she moved one of his limbs. She giggled even as she struggled to close the front door.
“Seriously, Angel. Give me a second.”
He relented for a single moment, scooping her up into his arms after the lock clicked. Maya shrieked as he carted her off to the bedroom, not confident in his ability to not drop her in his drunken state.
She told him as much. “You better not drop me!” Angel shook her as if she were on a rollercoaster to prove a point. She cackled, arms tightening around his neck.
“You’re not the boss of me.” He said with a grumpy scowl, dropping her onto the cushiony mattress.
“I’m not?”
“No.” He told her, a serious expression on his face.
“Unh uhn!” She bossed, pushing him away from the foot of the bed. “Take off your clothes first!”
He stripped like she said.
“I’m not the boss of you?”
She wore a smug expression.
“No. Definitely not.”
“You sure?”
Angel ignored her as he got comfortable, laying half of his body on top of her. His long legs and arms trapped her to him like a spider in a web, his heavy head resting on her chest. The position made it hard for her to breathe, but she pushed her discomfort to the side. She wanted Angel to be comfortable. With one hand she rubbed his arm, the other stroking his hair the way he liked.
“You know what would be nice?”
“If you were quiet?”
He snorted.
“No.”
“What?”
“If you rubbed something else for me.”
“Angel--”
“Please.” He pouted.
Her thumb traced the outline of his bottom lip, the hairs of his goatee tickling the pads of her fingertips.
“You don’t have to do anything but lay here.” He promised, kissing her collarbone.
Maya smiled. She had heard that line before.
Even in his desperation, Angel was sensual. He whispered in her ear, telling her she was perfect and that he was thankful in between tonguing her down. He shifted so their hips were aligned, grinding until heat pooled in her panties.
Maya guided his hand to her chest, and he did the rest, discovering she wore nothing underneath the crop top. She gasped underneath him, bucking her hips for more. He groaned into her mouth, pinching a sensitive nipple between his middle and ring finger.
“So pretty, mama.” He complimented as he pushed the top up so he could show her breasts the proper attention. Angel was obsessed with her tits. He asked for pictures of them when he was away and took any opportunity he had to play with them. When they were watching moves on the couch, in the car while they waited in the drive-thru, he was always itching for a peek.
She loved it.
“Thank you, baby.” She cooed as his hot mouth latched around an erect nipple. Down below, he shimmied out of his jeans, immediately pulling at her shorts after. She lifted up, helping Angel in his mission to undress her.
His eyes met hers, searching for permission to continue.
The two of them fooled around a lot, but they hadn’t had sex. Maya liked Angel, but she was the type to get attached, so she wanted to be sure before they took that next step. Her lust for him made her hazy, careless. She wanted to take the plunge, lose herself in him. But...
“Baby--”
“I know.”
He grunted, forcing his hips to slow while he buried his face in the crook of her neck.
“I’m sorry.”
He smiled.
“It’s okay.”
She knew he meant it.
Maya returned a smile, pushing Angel to lay down next to her. She crawled so that she sat in his lap, tugging on the cotton boxer briefs. The fat, dark red tip intimidated her, but she fisted him anyway, using the creamy precum as lubricant.
“Fuck.” He cursed.
Neither of them could look away from what she was doing.
Up and down. Up and down. Twist. Up and down. Spit. Up and down.
She told him his dick was the prettiest she had ever seen, and that it felt good in her hand. All of it was true, but she said it to rile him up. She knew Angel had a praise kink. Being told he was good at something, the best, was easiest way to set him off. Angel had been halfway there before so it didn’t take much for her to work him back up to the edge.
“Just like that.” He grunted, fucking into her fist.
“Yeah?” She taunted sweetly, licking her lips at the heated expression on his face. “Am I making you feel good, baby?”
As if to answer, he came with a series of loud groans, his release splattering hotly against her belly. She gasped staring down at the mess he made.
Angel took advantage of his distraction, thick fingers finding their way to her center, stroking in circles until she followed him with her own release.
She whined his name, falling forward to rest against his chest with harsh pants.
After such powerful orgasms, both of them worried they would kill each other when they finally had sex.
***
It had taken a ridiculous amount of effort on Maya’s part to not sleep with Angel.
She worried he wouldn’t have the time for a relationship with his lifestyle, or that he wouldn’t be able to stay faithful when he faced temptation everyday, but the look of adoration in his eyes as he stared at their reflection made her feel as if her worries were unwarranted.
“Your hair is so pretty.” He complimented, pushing her hair forward so that it framed her face.
He was always doing that. Assuring her that she was beautiful, special.
For the first time in a long time, her heart felt full. With total confidence, she spoke.
“Pull it then.”
“What?”
Maya stood from his lap, turning around so they were face to face. Her soft hands cupped his cheeks, the scratchy hair of his beard poking at her fingers.
“Pull. It. Then.”
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Fever (NSFW)
Summary: After being tasked to watch Gadreel for the night, you find that the ratty motel you're both sharing doesn't have a heater. It's a terribly frigid winter night, and your only source of heat seems to be the ex-angel.
Pairing: human!Gadreelxreader
Other characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester
Rating: NSFW
Warnings: language, unprotected sex, size kink, getting caught, PWP
Word count: 2200+
A/N: I FINALLY FINISHED THIS. You don't know how long this simple fic took me, y'all. But I did it, pals, I DID IT! (p.s. as a Minnesotan, I have a right to hate my state bahaha enjoy!)
“They only had one double,” Dean says, holding out a set of keys to you. "Gad's gettin' the couch." Huffing, you snatch the keys from him, nodding.
“Whatever,” you say, adjusting your duffle bag over your shoulder. Dean stares at you silently, and you purse your lips, shifting your weight from foot to foot. “Well, see you tomorrow –”
“Gad's off-limits,” Dean blurts. Your eyebrows shoot up, words lost to you. “I'm serious. I see how you look at 'em. It's not happening.”
“I could've sworn that I'm a grown-ass woman –”
“Yeah well, he still took Sam's body for a joyride. Until we can trust 'em, keep it in your pants,” he grumbles, eyes training on something behind you. You turn as Gadreel pulls your duffle bag from your shoulder, smiling. He smiles in return, nodding to the door. Your smile fades as you watch the snowfall, cursing under your breath. Taking a deep breath, you sprint out of the check-in booth, running to your room with your room key drawn. Why the hell didn't you bring a jacket?!
“Shit,” you hiss, rushing into the motel room and rubbing your arms with a shiver. You look over your shoulder, clenching your jaw. Gadreel slowly makes his way to the room, rummaging through your duffle bag. “Hey,” you say, stiffening as a freezing breeze chills at your skin. He pauses in the threshold, continuing to rummage through the bag. “Dude,” you grunt, teeth chattering. He hums in response, remaining still in his place.
“Yes?”
“Get in here!” you snap, making him look up at you. “I-it's freezing,” you say as you grab his forearm.
“Right, you don't like the cold. I apologize,” Gadreel says, smiling sweetly and allowing you to lead him in. No matter how much time goes by, you'll never get used to these mid-western winters. Plopping down on the bed, you wrap the stiff motel blanket around yourself, trying to stop yourself from shaking. “I thought my blade was in your bag...”
“I-I didn't s-see it,” you say, rubbing your hands together frantically as you lay on your side.
This is how you die.
Not by vampires, or curses, or any other thing you face every week. No, a brisk Minnesota winter is the thing that takes you out. Who the hell moves here on purpose?! You scan your eyes around the room for a heater, cursing under your breath. Next time, you're going to a place with proper god damn insulation.
Gadreel pulls his leather jacket off, shooting you a sympathetic look. You return his look with a glare, lips poked out in a pout. “How are you not freezing?”
“I'm generally quite hot,” he mumbles, rubbing his nape. You glance up at him, nodding to yourself. Yeah, he is. You inadvertently trail your eyes over his form, quickly turning your eyes away when he looks at you. This is basically babysitting. You watch him when the Winchester's can't be bothered. Only watching, nothing more. You repeat this in your mind over and over, willing yourself to stop ogling him. Setting down the duffle bag, Gadreel sits down next to you, resting a hand on your calf. You look down at him, furrowing your brow. Heat radiates off of him like a furnace, and your body stops shivering almost instantly.
“Shit, you weren't lying,” you chuckle, rubbing your thighs together. “Holy crap, this is so much better.”
“Well, in that case.” Smiling, he lays behind you, and you stiffen, heat rushing to your cheeks. “How is this?” he asks. You nod silently, cursing Dean's voice in your head. Be responsible. Be smart. Keep your distance. You roll your eyes at the thought of his and Sam's disappointment, allowing your eyes to bat shut. Gadreel drapes an arm around you, pulling you impossibly close. The gentle rising and falling of his chest makes your body relax further, and soon, you're slumped against him, slipping into a peaceful sleep.
…....
Your eyes snap open abruptly, a deep frown on your face. You shift in your place, halting when you feel warm, solid muscle against your back. Looking over your shoulder, you're met with Gadreel's sleeping face.
Shit.
You try to retrace the night. It was cold as fuck. Gadreel, on the other hand, was warm. Ah, right. You passed out. To be fair, coming back from being chased by a pack of werewolves would leave anyone exhausted. At least, that's what you keep telling yourself. As you silently recount the night, the cause for you waking up becomes blatantly apparent. Something hard is poking into your back. Huffing, you elbow him. “Hey, move your angel blade,” you whisper. He stirs, pulls you closer, and goes back to his rhythmic breathing, making it poke you harder. “Jesus,” you grumble, reaching back and feeling around. When you finally find whatever the hell it is that's stabbing into you, you grip it tightly. To your surprise, Gadreel lets out a startled moan, quickly pulling out of your grasp and sitting up. You stay frozen in your place, heart pounding.
“Sorry,” he mumbles sleepily, rubbing his eye. “I'm still adjusting to my human body,” he adds.
Warm, throbbing, and thick. You somehow managed to memorize the feel of his shaft within the one second you gripped it. Heat builds in your core, and you curse yourself, trying to keep your mind from drifting to non-platonic places. “I-it's ok...sorry I grabbed...your...” You let your voice trail away, wrapping the blanket around yourself tighter as you remember the feeling of it once more. The bed creaks underneath his weight, and you frown, turning to him. “Where you going?” you ask, frowning deeper when he gestures to the small armchair in the corner. “But it's still freezing in here!” you blurt, cursing the whine in your voice. Gadreel scratches his arm, shifting in his place. “Please?” you add. With this, he's climbing back into the bed, lying flat on his back. Even in the dark, you can see the petrified look on his face. Before you can speak, he's turning to you.
“I don't want to disrespect you,” he says, eyes shifting rapidly. “It won't happen again.”
You shake your head, looking at him over your shoulder. “It's not disrespectful, it's natural,” you say. Gadreel goes silent, an impossible to read expression crossing his face. Finally, after many moments, he looks at you, furrowing his brow.
“So, it's ok that I'm aroused by you?” he asks, making your throat run dry. You stutter over unformed sentences, a million thoughts rushing through your head. Reluctantly, you nod, biting your lip. “Then I shouldn't feel ashamed?”
“Hell no, you're blessed,” you say, laughing awkwardly. Gadreel leans up on his elbows, and you turn to face him, heart pounding in your chest.
“Blessed?”
“Yeah it's...big,” you say, gesturing to the air. “And a lot of people...like big dicks,” you add. He nods, eyes locked on his crotch. By the grace of God, you manage to keep your eyes on his face.
“Why?” he asks, tilting his head. You open your mouth to talk, trying to figure out which moment in life led you to explaining what a size kink is to an angel.
“Because it feels good – or looks good – or I guess people like the feeling of being full,” you say, squeezing your thighs together. He hums, trailing his eyes over your form.
“Do you like them big, Y/N?” he asks, his voice deep and purring. You stare at him silently, giving him a reluctant nod with a shuddered breath. “Hm.” Gadreel leans over you, grazing his fingers along your cheek with wide and wondering eyes. He takes you in, feature by feature as if he's trying to memorize your face.
It's hard to say who initiated it.
One moment, you're both silently asking 'Is this ok?', and the next, you're pressed against each other, sharing hungered kisses as you both grab greedily at each other. He pushes between your thighs, his hard cock twitching against your core as you roll your hips up against him. Running your fingers through his hair, you pull him impossibly close, tongue pushing into his mouth as you deepen the kiss. God, he's perfect. His scent, his warmth, the feeling of his weight on top of you. It's all driving you insane. Gadreel pulls out of the kiss, trailing his lips down your neck, hands running under your shirt, and palming at your breasts. You make quick work of unhooking your bra, sucking in a breath as he presses his mouth over your nipple, his tongue swirling and his free hand kneading your other breast. He leans up on his knees, unbuttoning his jeans with his eyes locked on you. You're slack-jawed by the time he frees his length.
It's monstrous.
Thick and long, with a single vein running down the side. You wonder to yourself if it would fit in your mouth, let alone your sex. Your juices coat your panties, relieving any doubt in your mind. Gadreel strokes his cock lazily in his hand, running his tongue along his lips.
“Maybe you should take those off,” he says teasingly, gesturing to your jeans. You shake out of your trance, pulling your jeans and panties down your thighs. Immediately, the chill of the room tingles at your skin, and you pull him down against you, gaining a startled grunt.
“Still freezing,” you say, gaining a chuckle in return. Gadreel wraps your legs around his waist, eyebrows shooting up as his length slides against your slit.
“You're already this wet for me, Y/N?” he breathes, slipping his cock between your folds, eyes dark with lust. You respond with a kiss, nibbling at his lip and rolling your hips. You moan as the head of his cock slides back and forth over your clit, squeaking as he finally finds your entrance.
As the blunt head of his cock nudges against your entrance, you let out a squeak, fingers digging into his shoulders. “Holy shit,” you breathe, clenching your walls as the head of his cock pushes into you.
He pauses, pressing a gentle kiss against your lips. “I won't hurt you,” he whispers, pressing another gentle kiss against your lips as he pushes in deeper. Inch by inch, he stretches you out further than you've ever been stretched, and soon only incoherent sounds come from you. He doesn't try to hide his pleasure. No, instead he curses and moans your name, mouth gaped in pleasure as he's engulfed in your warmth. He gives you a short thrust, gently caressing your cheek before finding a steady rhythm. You wrap your arms around his neck, thighs clenching around his waist as he slowly fucks into you.
“Nngh – you're so tight,” he moans, fingers digging into your thighs as he quickens his pace. You cry out, body arching up as his hips smack against you. His thunderous thrusts shake the bed, smacking against the wall with each movement. It's only at this moment that it dawns upon you: Sam and Dean are in the room next over.
“Wait,” you squeak, bracing his arms. He stops immediately, cradling your face with a look of concern. “Th-they might...hear,” you whisper, nodding to the wall. He hums, gently placing a hand over your mouth.
“Problem solved,” Gadreel says, smacking his hips forward. Soon, he's back to his previous pace, his cock slamming into you as pleasure overtakes him. Your moans are trapped in your chest, eyes rolling back in pleasure as your edge quickly approaches. “Y/N – fuck –” He cuts himself off with a guttural groan, eyes squeezed shut tight. Your walls clench around him as your orgasm finally takes over. Arching off the bed, you drag your nails down his arms, screaming in pleasure as he continues fucking into you. Gadreel replaces his hand with his lips, swallowing your moans as you ride out your release. The moment is cut short by the door being kicked in. You stare in horror as Sam and Dean rush in, guns drawn. Gadreel leaps away from you, eyes wide.
“You ok – holy shit!” Dean squeaks, immediately shielding his eyes and stumbling back. Sam follows suit, closing his eyes and turning away from you. “Sorry – fuck – Jesus –”
“Out!” you scream, making the Winchester's rush out of the room.
–
The night ended as quickly as it began. You both were a little too scarred to keep going, so you decided that cuddling would have to suffice.
You walk stiffly to your car, avoiding Dean's burning glare and fishing out your keys. Even on a bright sunny day, it's bone-chilling. You shiver as you slide into your car, rubbing your hands together with a groan. “Fuck this state,” you growl, flinching as your passenger door is flung open. Gadreel sets your duffle bag in the passenger seat, leaning down and offering you a smile. “Shit, th-thanks,” you say, pushing your key into the ignition. He nods, staring at you silently as you start your car. You meet his gaze, smiling sheepishly. “Last night was...amazing,” you say, flicking your eyes away from him.
“Next time will be better,” he says, shooting you a wink before slamming the door shut. You watch as he walks to the Impala, biting your lip.
“Until then,” you mumble under your breath, grinning and pulling out of the parking lot.
Eternity squad: @sheinthatfandom @greenshinigamieyes @lipstickandwhiskey @feelmyroarrrr @bcarolinablr @mrswhozeewhatsis
#gadreelxreader#supernatural#spn#gadreel fanfiction#supernatural fanfiction#spn fanfictipn#fanfiction#fanfic#my writing#gadreel#Oh gadreel#just being all sweet#having a big ol' dick#understanding CONSENT my dear man#beautiful boy#I love you
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𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕜𝕖𝕖𝕡 𝕒 𝕤𝕖𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕥?
who: shay mitchell and florence pugh ( @glampugh )
summary: shay tells florence about the pregnancy
location: los angeles, california
date: feb 8th, 2022
warnings: none
status: complete
shay hadn’t said anything to anyone since she’d gotten back from the doctors and she and tom were separated for work. tom had gone to new york, or barcelona, she couldn’t keep up, but she wanted nothing more than for him to be home. usually when tom was at work, she let him be at work and focus on being his best self out there to sell his movies without interfering, but at the moment she felt alone with her news and all she wanted was tom home. but as well as, she had florence’s company and that was more comfort than she would’ve gotten at home by herself. and, of course, her best friend was busy in the kitchen as she went through her schedule for the week, sitting only a few feet from her at the kitchen island, shay kept her iPad and her phone close, keeping time with tom as she texted him. “you never told me what you were making, babe..what's on the menu for tonight?” (edited)
"i'm making a proper english shepherd's pie," flo answered, following along with the recipe that her dad recently sent her. "i'm trying to make two right now. one with meat and one without for daya... it's harder than i thought." and without a second more, she threw the ingredients together and started to cook up the potatoes. "i forgot to ask you... how was the doctors? just an annual check up to see if everything is working all dandy?"
“ugh, i love shepherd’s pie…” shay nodded, biting her lip excitedly as she kept her eyes low, coordinating her schedule. shay had herself a pretty heavy breakfast, but she was looking forward to what florence was making, so taking a moment and getting up from her seat and going to Florence shay had snuck a spoonful of the ground meat for the non-vegetarian option. “god, that’s perfect,” shay hummed, laughing as she put the spoon in the sink. shay couldn’t pinpoint it, it was an aftertaste of…onion? maybe she tasted the meat? “the doctors was fine, babe––“ she felt it coming, her mouth watering and once she felt herself gagging, unable too get the taste out of her mouth, she ran to the trashcan to empty her stomach of not only her breakfast, but of the taste. “oh flo…i’m sorry,” she apologised, not wanting it to seem like it was her cooking that made her sick.
"oh my god!" florence jumped up in surprise after she saw her best friend run towards the trashcan, emptying her stomach after she took a bite of the ground meat. "did i just poison you? shit." she turned down the flame from the ground meat, grimacing at the fact that she might've made shay sick with the dinner she was preparing. "hey, it's okay. don't apologize. there should be a ginger ale in the fridge. that should settle your stomach... have you been feeling sick lately?"
the smell alone was starting to make shay retch and she figured maybe the vegetarian option would be the better option for her tonight. she heard all of flo’s inquiries before pulling herself together long enough to get the paper towel roll to begin cleaning herself. nodding at the ginger ale, she stood upright slowly, wiping herself clean before taking her seat once again, “and water, please,” she asked, “i think this is the first time i’ve actually thrown up, before i was just feeling nauseous,” she shook her head. “that’s what the doctor visit was for, i went to get it checked out and––don’t freak out, but i’m pregnant, flo..”
“you know what? fuck it! we’re going vegetarian tonight.” florence was used to switching up recipes last minute, leaning towards more of the dish that would make everybody happy. she proceeded to throw the ground meat in a container, listening to her best friend closely. “nauseous? is there a flu going on?” she closes up the container lid, throwing it in the fridge. as she turned around, she heard the word pregnant clear as day. “what?!?! you’re pregnant?!?!? you’re not fucking with me are you?”
helping herself and finishing more than half the bottle of water in one go, shay leaned back in her seat, her hand over her stomach as she took a deep breath. waiting anxiously for florence’s reaction, shay bit her lip, trying not to smile too big at her own news and the fact that she hadn’t told anyone else yet, “i’m not fucking with you, babe, i promise, i’m having tom’s baby,” she covered her mouth the words leaving her for the first time as they only marinated in her head before now, “and you’re the only person that knows right now.”
flo was jumping up and down, clapping with pure happiness when shay confessed that she was pregnant with tom’s baby. “this is what you two needed. i knew you two were going to be in each other’s lives forever!” she pulls shay into a tight embrace, kissing her cheek lovingly. “you’re going to have a baby! oh my god, i’m going to be an auntie! zendaya is going to be ecstatic… oh yeah, i won’t tell her about this. not until you tell tom. how do you think he’s going to react? did you two plan this? i have so many questions.”
flo’s reaction made shay so excited herself, getting out of her seat as she smiled. holding florence tight, she closed her eyes already getting emotional at just about everything happening at the moment, “yeah, you’re going to be an auntie!” she blinked, “i’m not showing much now, i’m only about a week and a half, maybe two weeks along, but it’s happening, i’ve already gotten vitamins and everything, i stopped taking my birth control, so it’s really happening,” she smiled. “yeah, tom doesn’t know and i want him to be home,” she nodded, having thought that through. “i think he’s going to cry, honestly, he cries for much less, so i definitely think that’ll happen. we didn’t plan this, no…” shay laughed, “ask me anything, babe! i’m so happy to talk about this with someone!”
flo was still jumping up with joy about shay's baby news. of course she knew her best friend and her boyfriend would be having babies together, but the fact that it's happening this early only amazes her. was she shocked entirely, though? with how much sex they have? nope! she was happy for them regardless of how the baby was conceived. shay deserves this more than anybody flo knew, too. especially with a person that she was very much in love with. "when does he come home again? because bitch, you need to tell him! i think i saw somewhere online about him wanting to have kids months ago. that boy never knows how to shut up, but it's perfect. you two are perfect!"
“ummm, he either comes home this weekend of ‘uncharted’ weekend, i’m not sure where he’ll be for the premiere week, but i’m gonna be going with him to the premiere, just not…with him, you know? as far as the world still knows, he’s still with zendaya, so it’s best to keep a distance in front of the cameras,” shay nodded, truly understanding and being careful for tom’s reputation, no longer bothered with the public narrative that he and zendaya were together, especially with news surfacing about them to this day, shay felt confident. “i know! i will! but i’m glad i can tell him while i’m still not showing, i want him to be there when we tell our parents,” she mused. “yeah, he wanted to quit acting to be a dad, tom’s always been a family man,” shay smiled fondly at the thought of tom alone, she was so in love with him. “awwww, we’re not perfect, but this kinda feels like it right now,” she said truthfully, her hand absentmindedly flying to her stomach.
"the world is going to find out that you're pregnant one way or another. they're going to question who the father is. some fans are big detectives, so i'd be careful. i don't want their fans to come after you," flo's hand rested on shay's back to give her a gentle rub, making sure her friend knew that there are consequences about dating the biggest movie star right now --- unfortunately. social media makes it almost impossible to enjoy your life with your signifiant other. "daya and i don't give a fuck about shit like that anymore. we were basically kissing and being all touchy in costa rica. if someone catches us, then so be it. i kind of want everybody to know that i'm craving about her." a chuckle stumbled out. "oh my god! you two are so pure. god wanted you two to be together. to have a family!"
“oh god…” shay hadn’t considered that yet, the fact that the world was going to know. “their fans are still coming after me, i’m not worried about them anymore,” but she was for her baby, because a lot of hate would come from the fact that it wasn’t his with zendaya, therefore, their child would be lesser than. feeling the hand on her back, shay moved her arms around florence and rested her head on her shoulder, “i have to get tough skin, because when they get here, i have to be strong enough to protect them,” shay took a deep breath, dying for the comfort. “you guys almost got caught, did you catch that thing in the magazine about you two basically this close to eating each other out in public?” she looked at flo before sitting back down, “that’s how tom is, he doesn’t care at all…he wants to be out there. why aren’t you and z public, then?” shay smiled at flo’s words, “i think despite the fact that we’ve lost each other enough times, we’re back together and starting a future, i do think it was meant to be too, yeah…” shay smiled, “i can’t believe i’m gonna be a mom!”
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another hopper! reader hc or fic babe?maybe continue the one you already wrote because that was super cute! like interactions between hopper and billy would be hilarious
based on this headcanon
aight lets imagine that hopper was able to take max and billy away from their shitty home life
and because he’s a huge softie at heart
papa bear hopper comes out and he lets them stay at your house
it would take them both so long to get used to their new settings
but after about a month max would join in on el’s excitement to be living with her best friend
my babies
billy would take much longer to sort of get used to it
like every slam of a door would still make him jump
or when your dad would come home drunk after a night out with his work mates billy would be sent into a panic attack
and while hop set up the spare room for him and max to sleep in
billy would often find himself sneaking into your room in the middle of the night because
“i sleep better when i’m next to you - somehow you stop the nightmares.”
max would also sneak into el’s room too while they gossiped about mike and lucas
but billy would creep back into his respective room when the sun rose not wanting to piss off your dad
however, one time billy would finally be getting a proper nights rest
like baby boy was full snoring
he hadn’t been able to sleep properly like that for a long time
so that’s how your dad would find you when he walked into your room to wake you up for breakfast
billy’s head on your chest
your legs intertwined
he’d clear his throat to try to wake you both
but when he realised that wasn’t going to work he’d roll his eyes and let out a ‘wake up!”
Billy would jump up like a flash of lightening
immediately spluttering out apologies and excuses like
“im so sorry sir”
“i didn’t want to be disrespectful - it’s just that your daughter has a good chest to lay on… wait! no! shit! i didn’t mean like her, you know? boobs. I mean’t like her chest.”
all while you sat there and looked between the pair
your dad would shake his head and chuckle under his breath
because the hargrove kid was actually a huge dork
and raise his palm so billy would stop rambling
“i was just coming to wake you both for breakfast. I know you’ve been sneaking in here for the last couple of weeks Billy, you’re not light on your feet… also don’t talk about my daughters chest to me again.”
with that he’d leave your room
and billy would let out a sigh of relief before crawling back on top of you
burying his face in your neck and letting out a string of “thank gods”
billy would 100% take y’all to school in the morning and drive you home at night
hopper would be reluctant at first
you know that he had to give our boy a couple of speeding tickets
and he would probably make billy go to a safe driving course just to be safe lmfao
but your dad would eventually get used to it
always telling billy to “drive safe hargrove or your body wont be found”
once y’all got home from school you and billy would be studying on the kitchen table while the girls studied in the living room
and you’d have this huge biology exam the next day
so you told everyone not to distract you
putting on your headphones and listening to your songs through your walkman
but then el would walk over to your table not understanding a word
like the lil angel asked max what it meant and not even our firecracker knew
so she’d go to tap you on the shoulder but billy would stop her
gesturing to the seat next to him
so she’d shuffle over to the chair and sit down
pushing her book in front of him before pointing to the word
and billy would chuckle and be like
“you don’t know what catastrophic means?”
and el would shake her head while trying to say the word out loud after billy gave her the definition
billy wouldn’t say it but the girl that was weirdly named after a number was starting to weave her way into his heart
as was max who had joined the three of you at the table, tossing billy her math homework
billy would raise his eyebrows and be like “what do you need maxine?”
the girl would roll her eyes and sigh
she doesn’t like to ask for help
so billy would scan over the blue sheet of paper with circles that were cut into half and quarters
“let me guess, you don’t know how to write these pie diagrams as fractions, huh?”
max would bite her lip and shake her head while billy grabbed a pencil and turned the paper to face her
beginning to explain the concepts to his lil sister
from then on this kind of became a routine
billy would help the girls with the homework first before doing his own
and you’d always comment about how he’d make a good middle school teacher
which he’d groan about and tell you to “bugger off”
we stan a king who is trying to not swear as much around kids
because there was no way that he was going to become a teacher
but when the time came for y’all to put in college applications
don’t try to tell me that he wouldn’t ask you to help him write a application for middle school teaching
he’d so get accepted pls don’t kill my dreams
after a while billy would probably get tired of his mullet
the only reason he grew his hair was to spite his dad who said long hair was for “pussies” and “belonged on girls”
so he’d tell you that he’d meet you at dustins house where everyone was hanging out after because he had to do something first
you wouldn’t pry but would give him an “okay, see you then” kissing him goodbye and driving off
billy would stare at himself for a really long time in the mirror with a pair of scissors in his hand
he kept going to cut it but then stopping himself
until he heard the familiar sound of hoppers voice followed by a womans that he recognised as joyce byers
so he’d walk out of the bathroom
ultimately halting their conversation
and hopper would glance between the nervous boy and the scissors in his hand
and just let out a “what are you doing, son?”
billy would try not to smile at the fact that HOPPER just referred to him as son
but would nonchalantly raise the scissors and look between the pair of adults
“i-uh, was thinking of cutting my hair.”
joyce would smile before gesturing him over to the kitchen table offering to do it for him
when billy finally arrived at dustins he’d knock before letting himself in once he heard the kids yell an “it’s open!”
and all conversation would come to a stop
the party would stare at him in shock
while you’d stand up from your position on the couch next to harrington who had his mouth opened in an ‘o’
you’d walk over while raising a questioning eyebrow
“you cut your hair?”
billy would shrug and nervously look down at his shoes
“thought it was time for a change. do you not like it?”
your hands would run through his short locks and billy would shut his eyes
he loved when you played with his hair okay
and you’d kiss his cheek, telling him that you loved it
while leaning up on your tip-toes to whisper in his ear
“i can still pull on it while you go down on me.”
billy would b l u s h
and cough to stop himself from being turned on then and there
max would smile at him and give him a thumbs up before returning to the D&D game
el would just give him a loud “badass” before also joining back in the game
billy wouldn’t admit it but having yours and the girls approval meant the world to him
it wouldn’t stop him from telling steve to “bag your face harrington” when steve started talking to him though
don’t even talk to me about how much billy would love ‘family dinners’
his blood related family never had dinner together
so when your dad brought home beer and pizza every friday night
while you all sat in the living room just lounging around eating and talking
he fucking loved it
domestic! billy has me soft™️
he. deserved. better.
we’re gonna pretend the final ep of s3 didn’t happen okay? cool
I WENT CRAZY ON THIS TERRIBLE HC IM SORRY
#billy#billy hargrove x you#billy hargrove#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove imagines#billy hargrove x y/n#billy hargrove imagine#billy hargrove fluff#billy hargrove headcanon#billy hargrove head canon#billy hargrove oneshot#billy hargrove one shot#billy hargrove fanfic#billy hargrove x hopper! reader#billy hargove imagine#billy x you#billy x y/n#billy x oc#stranger things#stranger things 3#stranger things s3#stranger things season 3#stranger things imagine#stranger things imagines#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things oneshot#stranger things one shot#stranger things head canon#stranger things headcanon
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Could I ask for “we’re not finished. i’m not just going to let this go.” With Angel please. Love how you write for him ☺️
Thank you so much for the request love! Hope I did this justice! <3
Masterlist
Tagged: @iambabyharry : @justahopelessssromantic : @carlaangel86 : @briannab1234 : @marvelmaree
“we’re not finished. i’m not just going to let this go.”
The bright California sun was beaming down upon you. You were currently enjoying the bearable California Spring weather as you made your way through the neighborhood. You just had to go out for a walk, but of course, proper protection was on. You had your mask and everything that you needed to assure that you were keeping not only yourself safe, but the others around you. Turning the corner, you were almost home and now, you were debating if you wanted to do another round of walking, but you stopped at your tracks when you saw who was sitting at your patio.
“Fuck,” you minutes under your breath.
You’ve been avoiding Angel since the beginning of the year.
It was a little complex, but basically, you two were fuck buddies and now you were dating someone. Alright, maybe it wasn’t so complex, but you wanted to truly give this guy a chance, so you told Angel. He didn’t exactly take the news well, but he stepped away, agreeing that it was part of the terms. He knew that you two weren’t together, so really he had no right to dictate who you could and could not see. What Angel failed to realize was that fucking wasn’t the only part of relationships, no matter how great sex was.
You were wearing a mask so you figured you could keep walking and you could check if he was there again when you got back around. But, Angel knew your figure anywhere and he was amused watching you walking by your home.
“Where you going querida?” He called out after you as you walked by.
“Walking, wanna come?” You didn’t even turn back.
You heard the jingle of his chains, indicating he was following you. You stopped walking and turned to face him and you bumped into him. Angel wrapped his arms around you to make sure you didn’t fall.
“Sorry,” he apologized as he steadied you. “You okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine, why are you not wearing a mask?” You questioned.
Angel held up his mask. “I was, but since I was coming into your home, didn’t think it would be a problem.”
“Angel, we’re supposed to be in quarantine, what are you doing here?”
“We’ve been avoiding the elephant in the room for some time, let’s talk.” He intertwined your hands and led you to your home. You could have put up a fight, but the last thing you wanted was for your neighbors to overhear since everyone was home. “And you really think quarantine is going to keep me from seeing you?”
“Angel, there’s literally a fucking law in place to stay home.”
“Yes, but we can see family members.”
“I think you’re interpreting this wrong, you’re not supposed to see anyone unless they’re in the same household.”
Angel didn’t say anything and waited for you to open your door. You unlocked the door with Angel following behind. He locked the door for you and took off his kutte.
“How’s Juan?”
“It’s John.” You corrected him. Every time Angel would talk about John, he would use any other fucking name that started with a J besides John. His name wasn’t fucking hard, you knew Angel was being petty. “You know his name, is there a point to you saying the wrong name each time you mention him?” You took off your mask and hat, along with your sunglasses.
Angel looked at you and he had to hold himself back from immediately wrapping his arms around you. The quarantine has been brutal. When you were ignoring him for Julio, he still saw you around since you made weekly trips to the scrapyard and at times the carniceria as well. But with quarantine in place, he hasn’t seen you at all. He missed you terribly. While he understood why you wanted to go on dates with Juno, Angel wasn’t exactly happy. You two had such a good thing going, friends with benefits, no strings attached, it was his fucking dream. You two were high school sweethearts, so it was just a matter of time before feelings came into play. Then he wanted more and you fucking recoiled from him. But he also knew you. This was your defense mechanism to a tee. “I don’t really give a fuck what his name is, he won’t last long.” He knew you weren’t serious with this guy, it was a good thing you were close to EZ since that’s who he was acquiring his intel from.
“Oh, really?” You smirked, turning to face the infuriating man before you. “So confident and why won’t he last long?”
“Come on baby, you can just have his limp dick for so long before you come back to me.” Angel smugly told you as he wrapped his arms around you, placing a kiss on your lips.
All too quickly, Angel pulled away and you were ashamed at the fact you chased after him. That stupid smirk on his face grew and you pushed him off of you.
“I’m going to shower, please be gone when I get back.”
“Can I join?”
“Fuck you, Ignacio.”
“You know I love it when you talk dirty to me.” He called out after you.
While you were in the shower, Angel figured he would make himself useful. He wasn’t going to cook, so he was going to order some food. He unlocked your phone, he snickered when he realized that you didn’t change your passcode.
“Oh baby, you want me to go through your phone.” He knew that wasn’t the case, but he was happy you didn’t change the passcode. It was his birthday, the passcode you both decided on when you gave Angel access to your phone. You weren’t hiding anything, you didn’t give a shit. Angel was a friend you can trust.
After he ordered the food, he placed your phone back down when it began to ring.
“Shit, that was fast.” He commented. But then he saw the caller ID and he just had to talk himself down from laughing at how god worked in mysterious ways. “Hello?”
“Who is this?”
“Her boyfriend, who is this?”
“That’s not possible, I’m her boyfriend.” John argued.
“Well, I think you’ve called the wrong number. Y/N’s my girlfriend, I know you two have been having fun, but you can go fuck yourself.” The man on the other line was letting out expletives, yelling into the phone. “Yeah, whatever, don’t fucking call this number again.”
Angel smirked, placing your phone back on the counter. He sat down, turning the television on, making himself comfortable. Unbeknownst to you, Angel was spending quarantine with you, he wasn’t staying at his apartment and he sure as hell was not staying at his father’s. He parked his truck a block away just so you wouldn’t see it.
The shower finally turned on and Angel had a devious plan. Taking off his clothes in your room, he entered the bathroom quietly and was thankful you had your music blasting. He opened the door to your massive shower and entered behind you, startling you.
“Angel!” You scolded, playfully pushing him on his chest.
He chuckled, before taking up your space, moving closer to you so that both of you were under the waterfall shower that Angel installed in your bathroom.
Cupping your face, Angel watched as the water cascaded down your face and down your body. He missed seeing your face and other body parts as well. He planned on worshipping you every way he can and what better way to start than in the shower.
“I missed you.” He leaned over to whisper in your ear, softly biting it.
You moaned. You wanted to fight Angel, you really did, but you missed his touch, his intoxicating scent and most of all you just missed him. He confessed to you and you just immediately told him that you wanted to date other people. You weren’t sure why you immediately went down that route, but it was your defense mechanism that kicked in. Insecurities from past relationships screaming and drowning out Angel’s voice.
Tilting your head up, Angel kissed you. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. Any memories of John were out of your head as soon as you saw Angel, if you were being honest. You always had a pull towards Angel, something you thought would go away with distance. He was your first love so of course you knew he would always have a special place in your heart. But no matter the distance you put between you two, Angel closes the distance between you.
“I will always love you.” He whispered against your lips as you two parted for some air. “You’re always in my mind, no matter how hard I bury you.” One of his hands made its way down your neck, then to your chest, stopping at one of your breasts, giving you a light squeeze. You arched your back, pressing against Angel. His hand moved down again, grabbing your hips, teasing you, making you wait for where you wanted him most. “Your scent is always so intoxicating.” He played with your clit then, causing you to gasp, he lazily drew circles on your clit and you felt your arousal increasing.
Just his voice alone was the death of you, but with his lips sucking on your neck, you were ready to give him anything he wanted.
Slipping a finger inside, you groan into his mouth, pulling away to let out a moan.
“Damn baby, that’s just one finger.” Angel smugly teased you. “Guess Justin didn’t do anything for you.”
Before you could reply, Angel slid another finger inside you, turning the water off behind you. He lifted you with his other arm, his finger still inside you as he stepped back so he could place you on the shower bench Angel conveniently placed there. He helped you renovate the house and he said it would come in handy. You innocently thought for shaving your legs and well, Angel had other ideas.
With half of your back and head against the wall and the lower half on the bench, Angel placed your feet at the edge of the bench. He placed a kiss on your inner thigh, one on each side. Spreading your lips, he took one lick before diving in.
“Angel,” you whined out his name. It was a sin just how good his tongue was. You hate Angel’s mouth at times, but whenever he ate you out, it was your favorite way of keeping his mouth occupied.
“Look at my baby girl, you look exotic as fuck.” He entered two fingers into you again, wrapping his lips around your clit as he moved his fingers in and out.
“Fuck.” You arched your back, your walls clenching around his fingers. Angel just knew how to make your body sing and it was such a great yet awful thing.
You came then, Angel lapping your juices before pulling away. You were spent and just looked up at him.
“Told you the bench would be handy.” He pulled you up, kissing you just so you can taste yourself on his tongue. Turning you two, he sat down and guided you to sit on his lap. Your hands were on his shoulders as your feet rested on the bench on either side of him.
He guided you down his cock, the tip of his cock just at your entrance.
“You gotta watch my cock stretch you out baby, I know you love watching that.”
You looked down as Angel brought you down his cock and you bit your lip, enjoying that burn, that stretched that his cock always provided. Though you had to say, it wasn’t about watching his cock be enveloped by you that enticed you, no, not at all. It was the intimacy of it all. Angel was your first everything and even if you’ve had others, Angel was the only one that made you feel this way.
“I’m buried to a hilt baby, you always take me so well.” He looked up at you, watching you bite your lip as you moved up and down. Taking his thumb, he caressed your lower lip so you wouldn’t bite so hard. “Let me hear your, you know I love fucking hearing you.”
And you love to hear him. That filthy mouth of his alone could get you to come.
Using Angel as leverage, you quickened your speed, moving up and down him with ease. You were so wet.
Angel stuck his thumb out towards you and you took his thumb into your mouth, letting go as he groaned at the sight. “You drive me fucking crazy.” He kissed you senseless as he moved his thumb to your clit, drawing circles at a much faster pace. Your walls were beginning to clench around him, his name basically coming out like a mantra from your lips. “Jerry ever make you feel this fucking good?” He wrapped an arm around you and began to thrust his hip upwards as you were moving down on him, the sensation just becoming more intense.
“Fuck Angel, you’re gonna make me come.” You looked at Angel, his intense stare just trained on you as it always was.
“And that’s what I want baby girl, for you to come all around my cock. Then I’m gonna fill you up baby.” Angel switched your position, pulling out of you in the process. He turned you around so that you were not bent over the bench, your forearm resting on it. “Look at that baby, your pussy is missing my cock.” He rubbed the tip up and down before shoving his cock back in.
“Yes,” you breathed out.
“Didn’t answer my question baby, did Jacob ever make you feel this way?”
You shook your head.
“Use your voice baby girl, you know I love hearing it.”
“No, he didn’t.” You gave Angel what he wanted and the truth. You hated feeding Angel’s ego but you would give anything to him right now and he knew it.
Hooking your knees with his arm, he pushed your knees back, spreading you wider. Angel was hitting deeper in this position and you were just a moaning mess. He was always so good, you’ve had your fair share of great sex partners, but Angel Reyes was at the top of his game.
“Mi reina,” Angel always called you that, regardless if you two were a couple or just friends. It was a habit he said, but it always did something to you. He leaned over to kiss you, your back arched as Angel kept hitting that spot that only he seemed to be able to hit with you. His kiss was intoxicating and you had to move your head away, you feel like you couldn’t breathe.
Your walls were clenching his cock again and Angel hasn’t had you for some time. He knew he was going to come soon. He picked up his pace and rubbed your clit as well.
“No, no, it’s too much.” You tried to push Angel’s hand off your clit, but you didn’t really have the strength to do so.
“Too much? You know it isn’t too much.” Angel smirked down at you. “Jeff just didn’t know where your fucking clit was.”
You really wanted to fucking laugh since that was true, but you can feel that familiar feeling in your stomach, your walls were clenching Angel and with the way his hips were moving you can tell he was about to come too.
He moaned your name, eyes opening and connecting with yours. He loves making eye contact with you as you came, as you both did. He loves seeing you come undone due to his doing.
“You coming baby?”
You just moaned out his name, arching your back as you came. Angel came right after you, spilling his seed into you. He kissed you again, a slow sensual kiss. Pulling out of you, he looked down as his cum came out. Pushing it back in, he rubbed you again causing you to close your legs.
“No, don’t do that, you’re not allowed to do that.” Angel opened your legs again. “This is my favorite sight in the world.”
“You’re such a guy.” You sat down.
“Come on let’s shower.”
And you two did this time. Angel scrubbed you and he returned the gesture. He held you in the shower, kissing you, telling you just how much he missed you. But the guilt began to seep in. You were dating someone and you really wanted to make it work. Angel was being a prick and you knew it. But it was so hard to deny Angel. The only time you were really able to stand your ground was when he broke up with you so you could have a better future instead of being stuck with him in Santo Padre. So you did, you left. And not even four years later, you were back in his fucking arms and you hated yourself for that.
You quickly exited the shower, leaving Angel behind and walked into your closet. Distance. Fucking distance was what you needed to assure Angel wouldn’t be able to convince you how great he was for you.
You changed into a tank top and shorts. Coming out of your closet, you found Angel wearing his jeans and black muscle shirt.
“Querida, when you wear things like that, you’re just enticing me to fuck you.” Angel was sitting on your bed, that devilish smirk of his on his face.
“You say that about everything I wear.” You rolled your eyes, walking out of your room.
“Well you’re sexy as fuck baby, I can’t resist you.” Angel called out after you.
You picked up your phone and saw a notification for Postmates. You figured Angel ordered and just ignored the notification. What did bother you was the text messages from John demanding you know who answered your phone. He had called a few times too.
You took a deep breath, not wanting to argue with Angel, but it was difficult when Angel was so infuriating at times.
“Did someone call for me earlier?” You asked him, giving him a chance to be truthful.
“No one important.” He sat down, changing the channel of the television.
“Angel, John called me.”
“Did he?” Angel looked over at you. “Like I said, no one important.”
“Angel,” you groaned. “Why are you doing this? We literally had a deal. Friends with benefits, if we find someone we truly want to date then we’ll end things, which is what happened.”
“No, you’re making it seem like that’s what happened. I know you, this is a defense mechanism. You’re pushing me away. I don’t fucking know why, but you are.” Angel looked over at you. “Why do you keep putting this wall between us? I know we started off as friends with benefits, but we’ve been through much more than that.”
“Oh you mean how you threw away our relationship so I can have a better life? Why do you get to make the decision for our relationship? Did it ever fucking occur to you that I actually wanted to be here with you? That I was incredibly happy to be here with you.” It was the talk that you two had been avoiding ever since you got back almost a year ago. You knew you should have had this talk, but every time you did, you and Angel ended up in your bed, naked and wrapped up in one another’s arms.
Angel closed his eyes and shook his head. He stood up and made his way over to your kitchen counter. You two had the counter in between you but you still felt close to Angel.
“I did what I thought was right, you were going to throw an opportunity away to further your career to stay with me, I couldn’t let you do that.”
“But that’s the point Angel, it was my fucking career. I can throw the fuck away whatever I want because I know what’s best for me.” You countered, the anger you felt all those years ago when he cold heartedly broke up with you was coming back. “This was a fucking mistake and I realized it early enough before feelings came into play. We’re done Angel, I don’t want to go back to where we were because I don’t know when you’re conveniently going to end our relationship to support my career. If you wanted to fuck around with other girls, all you had to do was tell the truth.”
“That’s what you fucking think that was? That I wanted to fuck around with other women?” Angel chuckled bitterly and shook his head. “I was ready to spend my entire life with you. I know we were young, but I was all in. No one else could fucking compare to you. Everything I did, I sacrificed, was so you can do better in life. I made my choice to stay in Santo Padre because that’s all I had, not you, you could go and be something and I wanted that for you.”
“Save the martyr bullshit, Angel. Whatever your reasons were, there’s no point in discussing it. What’s done is done.” Your phone buzzes again, indicating that you got a text message. Looking down, it was from postmates stating your meal was almost there. “After you eat your food, you can show yourself out. We’re finished.”
“We’re not finished. I'm not just going to let this go.” Angel scoffed at the idea. “You and I, we belong together. I fucked up and let you go, but that is never going to happen again. You don’t want Jamie, you want me. Regardless of the sex, we have a fucking connection that no one else will have with you. I’m sorry I let you go once, but believe me querida, it’s never going to happen again.”
Angel walked over to you, you stepped back till you were against the counter. “I love you, nothing is going to change that. No matter how much distance you think you’re putting between us, I’ll just close it because I can’t live without you. Give me a chance to prove it to you.” He took your hand in his, kissing the back of it. “Please Y/N.”
“I missed you every day I was gone. I was so miserable in San Diego, but I couldn’t find it in myself to come back. You didn’t want me anymore and when I did text you, you never answered. I felt pathetic.” You felt the tears welling up. San Diego was bearable, but you were always missing something and you knew where it was, you just became too stubborn to go back. “If I put myself out there again, how can I trust that you won’t just make a decision for me? We’re not kids anymore Angel, I know you want to protect me but you have to trust me. I can protect myself, you can’t fight every battle for me.”
“I know mi dulce, I’ll be better. I’m not letting you go, that’s not even an option this time.”
You wrapped your arms around Angel and he did the same with you. Placing a kiss on the top of your head, he whispered promises to you, promising the world as long as you came back to him.
“What did you tell John?” You asked after a few minutes of silence.
“Jonathan?” It was the closest he’ll ever get to his name. “That he can go fuck himself.”
#angel reyes#angel reyes fanfiction#angel reyes fic#angel reyes fanfic#angelreyes#mayans mc imagine#mayans mc fanfic#mayans mc fic
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Wedding Bells are going to chime
Saved by an Angel , A side of tits with your pancakes, Fires Burn Hot , Spending the Nights, Learning and Loving, The end id not always the end, Axel Grease , Big Decisions, Sex and Jet Skis, Late night fun , Old Wounds , Storms pass Dangerous Waters , Nursing the patient , Making it Work , Never Have I Ever The Masquerade, The Proposal Emotional Turmoil, sneaking , coming home, Best Man, Wedding Bells are going to chime , Wedding Bells have chimed (to be continued)
@dragsraksllib @super-pink-a-palouza @loomiz @bill-owns-my-asss @hornyhetero @taintedglass @grandpa-sweaters, @skarsgaard0 creechingexpertperfection
warnings: small bit of smut, angst
The evening before the wedding Axel is going down on Susie as she sits on the couch legs wide watching a comedy with him. She giggles from both his scruff and the show. Her hands grip his hair as he sucks on her clit pushing her over the edge of ecstasy. The doorbell rings.
“Fuck.” Axel gets up from his knees. “I’m sorry Baby Girl. Pull your panties up. It is probably my Brother Eric.”
“I’m good.” She panted.
Axel slowly walked to the door giving Susie enough time to get settled. It was his brother standing there with his tailored tux in a garment bag and a few other things in a suitcase.
“Sorry if I interrupted.” Eric walked inside.
“We are just watching a comedy.” Axel sat by his girl putting his arm around her. “hang your tux in the hall closet. You can put your suitcase there also. Then join us.”
Susie laid her head down on Axel’s shoulder with a big sigh.
Axel took Susie’s hand to bring up to his lips for a kiss. “I'll make it up to you tomorrow night.” He whispered. “I promise.”
“You are always worth the wait.” She smiled.
Alex came in to sit on the big comfy grey chair. “What Are you watching?”
“We just finished watching The Interview.” Axel picked up controller handing it to Alex. “Guest chooses next but only for tonight or we can get the Xbox out?”
Susie kisses Axel’s cheek. “Excuse me gentlemen. I’m going to get ready for bed. Big day tomorrow.” She smiles at Eric. “Get rest groom to be.”
Susie went to shower before bed. The men played Xbox for another hour or two. Susie felt so good when she felt Axel’s arms around her in their bed. That was all she needed to sleep until the morning sun streamed into the window. An automatic alarm for her to rise.
When Susie rises to make coffee for the boys, she makes shore to put on some shorts with Axel’s Tool shirt she wore to bed. She is extra quiet knowing Eric is on the fold out couch. Tami has already texted her to join the girls for breakfast before the late morning wedding. Susie text back to tell her she will be there on time.
Axel sits up as Susie is dressing in a light white dress with pink flowers blooming all over it. He stretching and scrubs his face. “Where are you off to Babe? I thought we would have awhile before you desert us guys for the girls.”
“No such luck.” She turned to give him a small peck. “Bride and her maidens are having breakfast this morning. Make sure Eric eats a good breakfast. I will see you on the beach at 11am promptly.”
Axel stood pulling her into his arms for a better kiss. “I will take care of everything important. Eric will be there on time. I will make sure he is fed and looks his finest. I’m glad you are getting along with the girls.”
“Yeah, it is nice to be included around here.” She pulls away. “Even Jen is coming around. She is a little abrupt but...”
“I’ll talk to Josh.” Axel grimaced.
“You will do no such thing, Axel.” She points her finger at him. “I said she is coming around. Let’s let her get use to us a little more. Don’t bring your brother in because it just looks like his girlfriend still wants you and that is not okay. She is getting better so let me deal with her.”
He put his lips around your finger pulling back slow with a grin watching her eyes widen and breath quicken. “You better get going to breakfast.”
She rolled her eyes pulled her finger away. “You suck.”
“Indeed, and you love it when I do.” His grin was wide and mischievous. He smacked her ass as she turned to leave and followed her to the door. He watched her walk out the door down the sidewalk until she could no longer be seen. His thoughts went from how sexy her legs, ass and shoulders looked to, he should have offered to drive or maybe he should just buy her a car or her own motorcycle.
Eric put his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You should buy her a ring bro.”
Axel chuckled. “I was thinking her own motorcycle. I’ll make you a big breakfast. I already smell coffee. Did you start that?”
“No, that’s all your girl’s doing.” Eric stepped back inside with his cup of coffee. “She made it strong. Just like I like.”
“That is how I take it to.” Axel went to get a cup. “Go shower while I make breakfast. You smell like ass. Does your girl know she is marrying a guy that smells like ass in the morning?”
“She does.” Eric laughed. “But somehow she is fine with how I smell at any time of day. I will go shower if it is the only way I get a good breakfast.”
“It is.” Axel joked as he got everything he needed together.
“I don’t think you ever made my breakfast little brother.” Eric thought fondly on memories of taking care of Axel and Josh.
“And this is the only time.” Axel quipped. “Now go shower stinky butt.”
Eric started to go towards the bathroom. “You always called me that growing up.”
Axel continued making a huge breakfast. When Eric was finished with his shower, he could smell the bacon and sausage. When he came out in his boxers, he saw a feast of not only the above but pancakes, eggs and hash browns. Orange juice was set out and two coffee pots were brewing fresh coffee.
“I don’t think we should be drinking or eating that much, Axel.” Eric sat down and started dishing up a plate.
“The other men are on their way to get dressed here since my place is the closest to the beach.” Axel poured Eric fresh coffee. “You have any confessions between us before they ascend on the place?”
“What are you, my priest now?” Eric folded some sausage links into his buttered toast.
Axel laughed. “No, I just meant if you have any reservation I can listen and tell you not to be a dumbass.”
“Great advice.” The noise of vehicles driving up were heard outside. “Don’t be a dumbass. Haven’t I told you that?”
“On many occasions brother.” Axel went to the door to let the groomsmen inside. “I made breakfast for everyone.”
“Is it edible?” Josh joked.
“It’s the best shit I have had from a home kitchen.” Eric piped up.
Josh smirked as the others started grubbing. “We will see about that.”
All the men were eating their fill complimenting their chef. While that was happening, Susie was arriving at Tami and Eric’s place. A nice two-story beach house. Two bedrooms upstairs. A guest room on the first floor where Tami’s soon to be Mother-in-law, Rebeca, was staying while she was in town. The first thing Susie noticed was the disgusted look on Rebeca’s face as the other girls were fluttering around excitedly setting out crapes, croissants and pastries for breakfast. “How can I help.” Susie smiled hanging her dress in a portable closet in the living room where the others had hung their dresses.
“Susie.” Tami came to her hugging her a hello. “How are the boys doing this morning? Is Eric nervous? I have good butterflies in my stomach.”
“Of course, he is worried about marrying you dear.” Rebecca rolled her eyes like it was the most obvious thing ever.
Susie ignored her comment. “Eric is very excited to marry you. It is your turn to be happily ever after.” She held Tami’s hands while assuring her.
“Oh, please.” Rebecca mumbled pouring herself another drink from the bar.
“You are next.” Tami laughed. “I think we are already so let’s have some breakfast.”
Susie sipped some coffee and had a little of each treat. “Axel was making breakfast for the men when I left. I think he planned to make everything to appease them.” She giggled.
“You did not make them a proper meal?” Rebecca droned. “I gather you are his current person, so I am surprised he doesn’t expect you to wait on him and bow to what he needs all the time. It has to be exhausting.”
“He was eight when he needed a Mother to take care of his needs.” Susie glared at Rebecca. “Luckily his Father taught him how to be a self-sufficient man despite your lack of love.”
“God he was so clingy.” She added like she had not even heard Susie’s comments or noticed how quiet the room got.
“He was eight.” Susie reiterated. “I’m sorry Tami excuse me for a few.” Susie went outside to cool down, so she didn’t deck the women.
Unfortunately, the woman followed soon after lighting a smoke as soon as she stepped into the cool morning air. Susie tried to ignore her choosing to look out at the surf.
“I can’t believe he would marry someone like her.” Rebeca spit like it tasted bad in her mouth.
“Like what?” Susie knew she was referring to Eric’s Bride-to-Be not being white, but Susie wanted to hear if she would admit her hate. “A waitress?”
Rebeca rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. She isn’t like you and I.”
Susie tilted her head. “I disagree. I think you are the only one without a soul.” She walked back inside with a big, pleased smile on her face.
“Oh good.” Tami said as you walked back inside. “She apologized? She is a little abrasive, but Eric is so happy she is here to support him. And I am happy he is happy. We just need to take a breath a few more hours. She is leaving tomorrow morning.”
#Axel and Susie q#cozy cove#wedding bells are going to chime#axel cluney#mechanic axel#surfer Axel#beach boy Axel#angst
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Reddie + in the rain + a bet, please
Thanks for the prompt! Don’t know if this is what you imagined, but I hope you like it ! ♡ This is a little inspired by the movie ‘Remember Me’. Also, this got kinda long. Enjoy!
READ ON AO3
Warnings: smoking weed, mentions of sex, uhh shitty behavior
Richie’s week didn’t exactly get off to a good start.
When he’d woken up Monday morning to take a smoke before heading off to school, he’d never pictured his week going the way it had.
It started mildly, Richie forgetting to check the student pages to see that his 8am class had been cancelled and he’d gotten up early for nothing. Then he’d ended up stepping in dog shit on his way back home and at the exact same time, the weather gods had decided it was a good idea to provide the earth with some pouring rain. He’d been soaked within five seconds.
Nothing too bad, but just enough to make someone go “I’ve just had a really long hard day” before grabbing a beer from the fridge and settling down in the couch to watch Netflix for the rest of the night. He’d ended up messaging Beverly to meet him in the park to smoke weed, her reply a stream of heart-eyes and thumbs-ups.
The two had met, sitting down on their designated bench for the night, burning joints between their fingers. Both of them loved the park at night, especially their usual spot that was located on the other side of where the hobos slept.
But his bad Monday hadn’t ended there. In fact, it had only gotten started. Because that was when a stranger had stopped before them, a woman seeming to be around 50.
“You can’t smoke that”, she’d said. “It’s illegal.”
Richie and Beverly, high off their asses, hadn’t been able to stop their laughter, the woman frowning down at their disrespect. If Richie had been a little smarter, he’d have put the joint down, apologized and gone home. But no, instead his high brain had had to make it worse.
“I’m calling the police”, she’d muttered angrily before pulling out her phone.
Their laughter had stopped abruptly, both looking at each other desperately to figure out what they should do. Should they run? Try to convince the woman not to call the police?
Once again, had they been smarter, they’d have run. Instead though, dumb and disoriented as they’d been, they’d tried telling her not to call.
The woman had ended up not even having to call the police, because not even a second later, what appeared to be a cruising police car had driven by, stopping at the woman’s frantic gestures.
“Officers, I was just on my way home when I noticed these two…”
That was when they’d run for it, ending up with only making it worse.
If they’d just been a little smarter, they would have given themselves up paid a fine, but by running they’d bought one-way tickets into the cells for the night.
Richie’s dad had had to pay bail for the both of them (“I’m taking this out of your inheritance, Rich”), and Richie had never felt more like a disappointment in his life.
It was Wednesday when Beverly came crashing into the group room where he was quietly studying (playing games on his phone) in the library on campus. “She’s got a son.”
Richie didn’t look up from his phone, barely paying attention. “Who?”
“That woman who busted us.”
He stopped, looking up at her. She was smiling like she was insane. “Okay?”
“You should ask him out.”
Doing a double take, he almost dropped his phone. “What?”
“Ask him out. Fuck him. Dump him”, Beverly was ticking the points off with her fingers.
Having no idea where she was going with this, he leaned back in his chair with a frown. “And why should I do that?”
“Revenge”, she said simply as if it was obvious.
“How is that revenge?”
She sighed. “I saw him, okay? She was dropping him off at school, and this uptight bitch has a super neat son, all ironed shirts and fucking gelled hair. She’ll hate that a guy like you not only touched her perfect little angel, but you broke his heart too, it’ll destroy her.”
Beverly was actually crazy.
“What the fuck?”
“It’s perfect!” She threw up her hands.
“Why can’t you date him?” he raised his eyebrows.
“Uh, ‘cause I’m a lesbian?”
Richie scoffed. “Yeah, but maybe he’s not into guys either, thought about that?”
Pursing her lips, she scratched at her chin. “Huh.”
“He can be straight for all we know.”
“Rich”, she sighed in frustration.
“No.”
“He’s cute”, she sang, rocking back and forth on her heels. “What’s the harm in trying?”
“I’m not going out with some choir boy.”
“Rich, he’s like totally your type, he’s…” She stopped abruptly, suddenly hitting his arm with her hand. “Oh my god, there he is!” She nodded her head towards the hallway.
“Fuck, why’s he gotta actually be cute, too?” Richie whispered too himself, hating how Beverly was right. Despite the proper clothing and neatly done hair, the guy didn’t give off the innocent nerdy vibe Richie had pictured when Beverly first described him. Instead his doe-eyes were fierce and bright as he sat down in one of the quieter corners of the library, lips pursing as he took out his notebook.
“Right?” Beverly tapped his shoulder. “Now go get ‘em, tiger.”
“No, no, no, no”, Richie panicked as she started dragging him out of his chair. “Bev, stop it right now.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
If Beverly hadn’t planned this whole thing asking the guy out, Richie probably would have put his moves on the guy on his own. Richie really couldn’t stop staring at him, soft freckled cheeks and with a gaze so sharp it could cut glass; he looked like a real rule-breaker.
“I’ll give you 20 dollars if you kiss him before the week is over”, she muttered into his ear, a perfectly tweezed eyebrow rising as the challenge burned in her eyes.
“A bet?” he almost wanted to laugh. “Really?”
She shrugged. “Apparently revenge wasn’t good enough.”
He hesitated.
“Oh come on, Tozier, you’d get the best end of the deal: revenge, 20 dollars and a kiss from a cute guy.”
He hated to admit that she was right once again. Finally, he nodded his head, and before he even knew what was happening Beverly was pushing him harshly in front of the table where the cute guy was focusing on his schoolwork.
The guy didn’t even look up when Richie stepped up, clearing his throat.
He tried to look back at Beverly for help, but she was hiding behind Richie’s English book.
He cleared his throat again. “Uh, hi?”
“Can I help you?” the guy said monotonously, still not looking up from his book.
“Did you know that bending your neck like that is, like, super bad for you?” the words were out before Richie could stop them, “even giving blowjobs is better for your neck.”
Fuck, what the fuck was that? He wanted to jump out the window.
The guy finally looked up, stopping his scribbling in his book. Narrowing his eyes at Richie, he looked him over. “Excuse me?”
“Like”, Richie laughed nervously, “if you gave a blowjob to someone, it would hurt less on your neck than how you’re si-”
“No, yeah, I got that”, the guy interrupted, holding a hand up to stop Richie from finishing his sentence. “What I meant was, excuse me, but who are you?”
Richie took a bow, one hand on his stomach and one sticking out to his side. “Richie Tozier at your service.”
The guy sighed. “Okay, Richie Tozier, what is it you want?”
“Uh…” he choked up, tongue fumbling in his mouth for words.
“Cause it sounded like you were asking me for a blowjob”, the guy pressed his lips together, eyebrows rising.
Richie’s eyes widened. “No, no! I…”
“So you don’t want a blowjob?” and fucking hell, how the hell was Richie supposed to respond to that?
“Yes! Wait no! I mean you’re pretty cute, so I wouldn’t-, wait, fuck”, Richie stopped himself before he could embarrass himself even more. He took a deep breath, letting his shoulder sink in defeat. “I actually wanted to ask you out, but I say dumb shit when I get nervous. Sorry for bothering you.”
He started backing away, turning around with heat boiling in his cheeks. Never had he bombed so hard trying to pick someone up, but there was something about this guy that was extremely intimidating. Way too proper and good for someone like Richie. Richie, with his unwashed hair, chipped nail polish, broken glasses, crooked teeth and shoes with holes. He’d used those qualities to wow people before, girls finding the messiness somewhat charming.
There was really no chance that Richie could get a guy like that, and he wished he hadn’t let Beverly talk him into trying, embarrassment weighing heavily in the pit of his stomach.
“Okay, wait”, the guy’s voice tore into Richie’s thoughts, Richie turning around slowly.
“What?” he knew he sounded miserable.
The guy motioned him over with a finger, already starting to scribble something in the corner of his book. “I’m free tomorrow night.” He tore the corner off, reaching it out to Richie. “Here’s my number.” He was smiling now, eyes glinting. Oh boy was he out of Richie’s league.
Still, Richie took the note, looking at it with wide eyes before staring at the guy again. “I feel like you’re doing this out of pity.”
The guy laughed. “So what if I am? Are you going to take me out tomorrow or not?”
Nodding his head, Richie packed the note safely into his shirt pocket. “I am. You’re not gonna regret this.”
“I hope not”, the guy picked up his pencil again. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“Hell yeah you will.” He started walking away before remembering something. “Hey, I never got your name?”
The guy looked up again. “Eddie.”
“Cute.” Richie winked before returning to a beaming Beverly, the two sharing a high five before leaving the library together.
Thursday night rolled around, and Richie was waiting outside the local pizza place, waiting for Eddie. He’d dressed as nice as he could: a button up that was actually one of his Hawaiian shirts only tucked inside his dark jeans instead of hanging loosely they normal. He’d washed his hair too.
“Hey”, a voice said to his right, and turning around, Richie’s gaze landed on Eddie, all dressed up in a silk shirt and dress pants. He was smiling at Richie.
“Hi.” Richie leaned down to give Eddie a quick kiss on the cheek in greeting, pushing his hands into his pockets.
The date went surprisingly well, Richie feeling much more relaxed after getting Eddie’s approval the day before, even if it was out of pity or not. He even forgot about the whole reason he’d had asked him out until Eddie mentioned his mom. Instantly, Richie’s chest felt like it was constricting, heart speeding up.
He hadn’t expected gaining genuine interest for the man in front of him, but Eddie was funny, smart and could actually keep up with Richie’s bullshit remarks, firing back just as easily as Richie fired out.
“I still live with my mom”, Eddie was dragging his finger over the top of his wine glass, going in circles as he talked. “She’s not very thrilled about the gay thing.”
Richie tried to swallow the lump in his throat with no success. “No?”
“She’s learning to live with it though”, Eddie stopped touching his wine glass, leaning his head in his hand as he looked at Richie with a smile. He laughed shortly. “Honestly I think she’d flip if she knew I was on a date with you right now.”
The lump only grew. “Oh?” he choked out, trying to seem casual. Normally he’d fire back with “that’s just ‘cause she’s jealous, Eds, she wants me all to herself”, but his heavy tongue couldn’t form the words.
“Yeah,” Eddie looked him over with shining eyes. “Smelling like cigarettes and all that, not exactly her favorite scent.”
At this point the lump was so big Richie could barely breathe.
When they were done eating and talking, the two decided to walk for a bit together, Richie offering to follow Eddie some of his way home, too scared of Eddie’s mom to offer to walk all the way.
Their hands were brushing with every step, Eddie looking up at Richie every once in a while. Richie could feel the guilt in his stomach building with each second, being around Eddie feeling like too much.
“I think I’ll turn around here”, he muttered in the end, smiling down at Eddie, hoping it didn’t look too forced.
“Okay”, Eddie was smiling. “I had a good time.”
“Me too”, Richie’s forced smile turned more genuine at that; he’d really meant it.
The two stood looking at each other for a moment, and just as Richie was about to say his goodbye, a drop of cold water hit the tip of his nose. Confused, he looked up to the sky, more rain soaking his face, and within seconds, it was pouring, Richie already blind from his glasses being fogged up with droplets.
“Well, see ya”, Richie muttered, desperate to get away so he could breathe. He started to turn away.
“You’re not gonna kiss me?”
Richie stopped, face snapping up to meet Eddie’s gaze, disappointment heavy on his beautiful features. “What?”
“All that and you’re not gonna kiss me?” Eddie’s brows were furrowed.
Richie was struggling to come up with a response, Beverly’s bet ringing in his ears.
“Do you want me to kiss you?” was the only thing he could think of to say.
“Do you want to kiss me?”
He remembered the horrible night in the cell, his dad’s disappointed stare when bailing him out, the lecture of responsibility he’d received during the car ride home. He remembered the smug look on Eddie’s mom’s face when the police put Beverly and him into the backseat of the police car, the money he now owed his dad, taken out of his own inheritance. He remembered Eddie’s words: “she’d flip if she knew I was on a date with you right now”, and Richie felt some sort of satisfaction at kissing that terrible woman’s precious little son.
So Richie stepped forward, leaning down and capturing Eddie’s lips in a kiss, immediately kissing desperately and passionately with his tongue already licking into Eddie’s mouth. Their spit mixed in with the rain, their lips sliding together easily.
‘She’d flip. She’d flip.’
Oh she’d flip, alright. Eddie hummed, hands flying up to tug at Richie’s dripping hair, tongue quick to respond and meeting Richie’s just as desperately.
‘Not very thrilled about the gay thing.’
Too bad, he thought to himself. Your son is being gay with me right now, what are you gonna do about it?
They broke apart, Richie smiling down at Eddie.
“Wow”, Eddie breathed out. “Uh, will I get to see you again?”
‘Ask him out. Fuck him. Dump him’. Beverly’s voice rang in his ears. ‘She’ll hate that a guy like you not only touched her perfect little angel, but you broke his heart too, it’ll destroy her.’
Richie felt victorious, already pulling out his phone to text Beverly to send over the 20 bucks. “Absolutely.”
Tag list: @annoyingtozier, @spastuetheobsessedphylosopher, @constantreaderfool, @violetreddie, @rainbow-reddie, @tinyarmedtrex, @thundercatseddie, @deadlighten, @jesuschristsupruvestar, @queen-sock, @appojoos, @xandertheundead, @lifesucksheres20bucks, @that-weird-girls-blog, @atownofeggs
Let me know if you want to be added!
#reddie#reddie fic#reddie fanfic#eddie kaspbrak#richie tozier#lynn writes#my writing#it#it fanfic#it fic#it can't all be fluff#;)#ask#anonymous
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The one where the night turns sour but then it turns sweet
Y/n’s kitchen is a mess. Pots and pans queuing up to be washed. Crumbs from her morning toast lingering on countertops. Veggies peelings from her infamous zucchini/ground beef lasagna she’d made for lunch still hanging out on the cutting board. But no matter how bad the battlefield in her kitchen, y/n herself is an even bigger mess. A proper wreck she would say if she wasn’t so absorbed by the problem at hand. Pacing her small apartment, phone clutched by her ear, she is one nerve away from having a mental breakdown.
She doesn’t have the time to take care of the deplorable state of her kitchen though. Not when her boss is scolding her like some punk kid caught stealing from the till, about a work catastrophe that she didn’t even cause. And that’s without saying that it’s fucking Sunday past 6pm and her best friend Harry is meant to be arriving anytime soon (the thought makes her hiss each time she so much as glimpses at the pile of dishes still dwelling besides the sink). It’s been a good 30 minutes since the screaming had started now, but y/n has yet to get a word in edgeways. Instead she silently implores her boss to stop swamping her with his unrelenting fury for both her sanity’s sake and the fact she’s expecting company.
"This is unacceptable y/n, your stunt just might have put our most precious client’s account in jeopardy and you aren’t even present to fix this fucking mess." Of course I’m not present you dumbass, it’s Sunday she wants so desperately to yell back. She will most certainly get fired if she levels her tone to her boss’ though, so she takes a long breathe and answers in the most put-together voice she can muster.
"Mr Griffith, I still have Mr Nicholson’s file on my computer. I promise I will do all that’s in my power to rectify this situation." Technically it’s not her concern. She knows she didn’t do anything wrong, but she’s fairly new to the company and fairly young and in today’s society that fairly accounts to having to prove yourself. Maybe saving the day will be the small push she needs for her hard work to get legitimate recognition.
"If it’s not fixed by tomorrow 10am you’ll regret ever footing step in my company y/n."
"Duly noted Mr Griffiths, enjoy the rest of your week-end," she retorts before hanging up. It is probably way to abrupt as a farewell, but y/n feels like her ears would have started bleeding had she not cut it short. Shoulders hunching in a dejected manner, she merely has the time to reach the kitchen before her doorbell rings.
"It’s open!" she says barely loud enough.
Then Harry serenely strides in, having already discarded his coat in the closet by the front door. As soon as he takes in her sight though, he knows something’s wrong. It’s not so much that y/n is an open book (the first time they met he thought she was quite the enigma), but Harry likes to think he’s been around long enough by now, to be well versed in decoding y/n’s kinetics. So instantly he recognizes the stiffness in her posture, can discern her usual in-thoughts frown from the migraine one she’s wearing right now, and already forecasts some kind of bad news just by the way she’s fiddling with her fingers.
"’S wrong, love?" he inquires with concern, and y/n absolutely hates that she’s about to put a damper on his night too. Loathes it even because of how soft he looks, standing a few feet from her, wearing a cozy navy blue jumper. His cheeks are slightly pink-tinted from the sharp weather raging outside, and she can tell he refrained from taking her hands in his when he voiced is worry because he knows they’d feel like icicles on her skin at the moment. Y/n sighs as she finally plunges her tired eyes in his shining emerald ones.
"God, I’m so sorry Harry, you have no idea how much I want to just hang out with you but something came up at work and-"
"At work? But it’s Sunday!" he cries out somewhat indignantly.
"Trust me, I know… But apparently there was a huge screw-up and now the office is in some kind of uproar, my boss is this close to kicking my butt out of the company and now I have to fix it-" Y/n explains frantically. She’d surf on the wave of anger during the phone call with her boss but now that she’s off the adrenaline high, she’s just a massive bundle of nerves ready to implode.
Lowering her head in her hands defeatedly, she flinches at the sudden contact of Harry’s freezing hands on her arms (just like he’s predicted but he decides the moment really calls for it). "Slow down, angel. Can’t be working yourself up, ’s bad fo’ your ‘ealth. ‘Sides, I’m sure we can work summat out" he adds while rubbing his thumbs over her shirt soothingly. Y/n then tilts her head back up and makes eye-contact once again as she paces her breathing in long inspirations. Once she’s recuperated, she brings her own hands under Harry’s forearms and gives him a morose smile.
"I really need to do this Harry, I don’t have much choice." Seeing how distraught she looks, Harry simply nods and swallows his disappointment. "I don’t know how long it’s gonna take, I have to make a few phone calls and that might be all there needs to be…or it might take the whole night. I don’t know, we can raincheck or if you want to wait around for a bit… It’s up to you." She knows it’s not fair to keep him around if she’s gonna spend the next few hours rubbing elbows with her computer and her phone instead of him. She knows she should let him go for the night and reschedule but she misses him so much. They haven’t seen each other in a while and, well, y/n’s heart always has a mind of its own when it comes to Harry (against her better judgement). So instead she leaves it to his choice.
He doesn’t have to think twice before agreeing though. "‘Course, love. I got nothin’ to do anyway so might as well do nothin’ ‘ere."
He makes it sound like it’s whatever, but truth is, he’s been looking forward to this for days. The last couple of weeks have been filled with so many work commitments and deadlines to meet, now that he has the next few off he’s just yearning for a casual night of take away, rom coms and cuddles if he’s lucky. And maybe his resilience has also something (a lot) to do with the pang lashing out at his heart at the thought of postponing their reunion. He won’t relay that information to her though.
"How ‘bout you go ‘head an’ do what it is you need to do, and I, can go buy some sweet an’ sour chow mein from that Chinese place ya always raving about?" he offers softly.
"It’s okay Harry you don’t have to do that, you’re supposed to be enjoying your time off, not run other people’s errands."
"No, none o’ that, angel. It’s no bother, I promise" he reassures her. "That way we’ll have more time for a movie or summat."
Typically, y/n wouldn’t give up that easily. She can be quite a stubborn feisty little thing when pushed too far. However, tonight she’ll have to pick her battles if she wants to have all her wits to clean her colleague’s goddamn mess. So she lets out a small ‘fine’ and drops her arms back at her sides. Harry gives her one last smile for moral support before he’s turning back towards the front door. As she hears him shuffling his coat and boots back on, she bites back a small smile of her own. She’s really lucky to have him, she thinks, not for the first time. All the more reasons to keep her blossoming feelings in a secret box, never to be opened by a certain 6 foot curly-haired British brunette who wears his heart on his sleeve and never fails to make her feel warm.
The sound of the door shutting is what pulls her out of her trance, before she despondently makes her way to her coffee table where lays her laptop and cellphone. Bracing herself for the upcoming crusade awaiting her, y/n puts her work glasses on and gets down to business with a small glimmer of hope that her night will end as originally planned.
When Harry comes back — not only holding dinner but also bearing a family-size package of M&M’s (he knows it’s her guilty pleasure and he thinks she really deserves it tonight) — the first thing he hears is y/n’s stern but diplomatic voice. He never really gets to witness this side of her, all professional and ‘takes no shit from nobody’ attitude, so he’s a little curious when he finally makes his way to her living room. And well, God helps him if he doesn’t find sweet y/n pacing her place head high, shoulders back and fiery eyes, to be really hot. Quite the contrast to her usually warm and relaxing aura, but still, the pang in his chest resumes with greater intensity.
"Mr Nicholson, your reluctance to further collaborate with Lyon Investment Factor is absolutely understandable considering we’ve played a part in the precarious situation that just transpired. I fully acknowledge the newfound mistrust you might feel towards our company, but if I may point out to you - and with all the respect that I owe you - despite its misstep, Lyon Investment has demonstrate its ability to operate quickly in the face of a critical emergency."… "Mr Nicholson, I was hoping the past 24 hours would have comforted you with the knowledge that you can rely on our company to deflect any other foreseeable complication that may occur."…"Thank you Mr Nicholson. This goes without saying that I offer you my most sincere apologies on the behalf of Lyon Investment."
Harry thinks she’s genius. Using the very own mistake of the company to show its impeccable response to crisis and problem-solving abilities…that is downright brilliant. A really coup de maître of sure. Whilst it’s true they fucked up, they (or more like y/n) also managed to efficiently resorb the problem at hand. Mr Nicholson’s company is not in any harm’s way anymore, all thanks to her fighting long and hard to right the wrong that had been done. Harry’s heart is bursting with pride and awe as y/n smoothly wraps the phone call up, comforting Mr. Nicholson times and times again to rest assured that Lyon Investment wouldn’t let anything bad happen to his company.
It’s only once she half-throws away her phone on the couch that y/n takes in Harry’s return. She’s usually really good at sensing his presence but the last 30 minutes drained her to the bone. He looks even softer if it’s even possible. Head tilted on the side as if he’d been observing her this all time, he seems somewhat thoughtful. And for a few one too many seconds they just gaze at each other and bask in the silence. Then Harry finally breaks the intensity with a soft chuckle and a smile.
"Jesus, angel, ya look like ya need a hug," he says while putting the bags of food on the kitchen counter.
"Ugh. I’ll be honest, not my best night so far."
"Good thing I’m ‘ere to make it all better then. I even gotcha M&M’s to end things on a sweet note. Know ya can resist ‘em," he proudly announces and y/n might as well turn into to a puddle as his feet with how sweet he is. Sweeter than the stupid candy without a doubt.
"God, Harry you’re the best. I’m so glad you decided to stay" she admits while getting close to him. She could really use a hug, he knows her so well. And a hug it is, as she doesn’t even need to say anything before he engulfs her between two strong arms and a soft chest. Reveling in the feeling of his hands running down her back supportingly, she just breathes him in the most inconspicuous way she can. She doesn’t know it, but he does just the same.
"You work so ‘ard, angel. I’m so proud o’ you." The sentiment makes her smile in his neck, and when she leans back out of his embrace and takes a look at him, she thinks her night is not totally ruined.
"Thank you Harry, it means a lot" more than you know, she could add.
Finally ready to let the festivities begin, they are then making their way to the kitchen. Harry helps pulling out the plates and cutlery since by now he’s just as familiar with her kitchen as she is (despite it being a few months since the last time they did something at hers).
"So, what ‘appened at the office that they had you kickin’ asses on a Sunday evenin’?" Harry asks while serving them both some of the sweet and sour he’s bought.
"Barely kicked anyone’s ass" she grumbles. "If anything, I’d be lucky not to get mine kicked tomorrow at work."
"Didn’t sound like it. You were so…" Harry starts saying as he tries to find the right words, "…confident and intransigent when I ‘eard ya on the phone." She smiles once again at the dripping fondness in his voice.
Plates in hands, they revert back to the living room and make themselves comfortable on the sofa, cautiously sitting not too close but not too far either from each other.
"Nah, you just caught me when I was tired, frustrated and frankly? angry. I’m just glad I didn’t go ballistic on him…then we would have truly lost Mr Nicholson and this time it would have been entirely my fault," she says before shoving a piece of sweet and sour pork in her mouth.
"Wait, you mean you ‘ad nothin’ to do with what ‘appened?"
Y/n lets out a long sigh at Harry’s confusion. First, because yes, technically she could have stepped out of the problem — though her boss could probably care less about her innocence in the matter — and just enjoy her Sunday evening as arranged. Second, because somehow she knows Harry will disapprove. He already thinks she’s working to hard and despises her office for not acknowledging how absolutely brilliant she is (granted, he’s probably a bit more than biased on the subject).
Now that he asked though, she can’t get out of it. "Technically speaking? No. I was the one investigating Mr Nicholson’s new investors and when I noticed something odd with one of them, I wrote a note on the file so that Shirley would take matters into her own hands. When I came by her office to pass on the file though, she was distant and barely listened or looked at me. I mean you know how she’s always been with me…" Harry slowly nods as he recalls many a night where y/n would rant to him about Furie Shirley whose only purpose is apparently to turn her time at the office into her own personal purgatory. "I still told her about the note, but apparently she failed to do something about it because next thing we know, Mr Nicholson’s account is missing a few pennies."
"Jesus y/n, why dyou go through all that stress ‘f you weren’t even responsible for it?" Harry does’t understand. Is it because her kindness is so, that she couldn’t say no to those who need her help? He’s seen that happen quite a few times in his time with y/n. Once they’d been walking to the cinema when some old lady asked y/n if she could watch her dog while she was grocery shopping. They’d waited for over 30 minutes outside the store and barely made it in time for the movie… It was just one of those things that made her y/n and that always left Harry endeared.
"I just…Harry you don’t understand how hard it is to make a place of my own in that office. I’m young and new, and people are still not completely trusting my competences…so yeah, sometimes I have to go the extra mile to show them; make them see that I deserve to be there, because I love my job and I worked hard to get in that company in the first place. But I’ll be damned if I don’t put my whole in what I do, it’s the only way I’ll get recognition for it. I just owe it to myself."
At this point they’re both facing each other on the couch, food abandoned on the coffee table. There’s a pregnant pause but none of them are willing to put an end to it. Y/n, because she’s trying to decipher what’s going on in Harry’s head, her eyes going back and forth between the two of his. Harry, because, well, the butterflies in his chest are so strong he can’t act like a functional human being right now. She’s just so beautiful: chapped lips, disheveled hair, eyes circled with exhaustion and all. She’s the cutest mess he’s ever seen and he can feel his heart winning over his reason. Can’t resist the magnetic pull he’s always experienced when near her. Can’t stand by his initial inhibition anymore.
Ever so slowly as to not set her off, he leans in, lips slightly opened because breathing through his nose is too complicated of a task at the moment. He’s got the smallest frown like a remote part of him realizes what he’s about to do and braces itself for the aftermath. He comes to a halt millimeters from her lips as a silence way to give her one last out, but when her own lips part to let a shaky breathe out, he just closes the infinitesimal distant remaining between the two of them.
Then it’s just lips tenderly waltzing to an unchained melody of unraveling secrets and muted feelings set free. The kiss is a silent conversation between two relieved souls who can finally be unconditionally honest with each other. Harry can’t believe it’s really happening as he cups her jaw in his hand, thumb delicately brushing over her cheek. As soon as their lips made contact he’d closed his eyes to fully soak up the moment. He just can’t get enough. He loves the softness of her skin under his fingers, the feel of her irregular breathing against his face and the way her hands have moved to rest around his neck and clutch at his sweater. He’s never felt more connected to her in that moment.
Alas, every good thing has to come to an end, and all living beings need to breathe. Reluctantly so, they both lean back an inch playing with the idea of going for a repeat, before coming to the realization of what that kiss means. The shift that will undeniably result from it and the necessity for them to talk it out. Harry decides he should speak first since he was the one to initiate it all.
"Umm, I’m sorry…but not really" he finally says huskily with swollen lips and flushed cheeks (and this time the weather has nothing to do with it).
That’s enough to break the tension as they both start laughing softly, foreheads touching. After their laughters die down Harry gives a small push to her head, to which y/n responds with one of her own. Her mind feels fuzzy, her self-control slipping away bit by bit. She can’t tone down the smile that’s tickling her eyes, can’t prevent the goosebumps from erupting all over her body and can’t get her fingers to stop fidgeting. She’s taking comfort in the fact that Harry’s not doing much better body language wise.
"You kissed me" she states after clearing her throat.
"I did."
"Sooo, what was that all about?" she inquires quietly but still beaming. He chuckles at that, desperately trying to find a way to buy himself time in order to formulate a proper answer; one that conveys how much he likes her without scaring her off.
"Well, we get on really good, don’ we? From the beginnin’. An' it’s like, you became really important to me so fast, an’ I value our friendship. So much, angel. An’ because o’ that, I could never get myself to make a move because the worst case scenarios always ou’weighed the best one. I just couldn’t, an’ still can’t afford to lose ya."
Y/n is amazed. First because his words are music to her ears. It’s what she’s been craving to hear from him for months. Second, because she’s never seen Harry quite so…shy. After confessing his feelings, he looks down at his lap as if still not a 100% convinced that she reciprocates the sentiment. So y/n gingerly takes his hands in her, threading her fingers between his.
"Harry…I don’t think I could ever cut ties with you. Feelings or not." Realizing how that may sound, she adds frantically. "Not that I don’t have feelings for you, because I do." She pauses. "I really do."
There was a rawness in her voice that wasn’t there seconds before. Now it’s her turn to feel the weight of months of secrets taken off her shoulders. And when she feels him squeezing her hands and takes in the radiant smile on Harry’s features, she thinks this is the right this to do.
It seems Harry’s confidence has returned as well, if the small smirk making it’s way on his face is anything to go by. Then he’s wrinkling his nose and slowly shaking his head from side to side. "Damn, we’re just bloody idiots, aren’t we."
"Apparently so, yeah" y/n answers before they start giggling in unison.
"So, where do we go from there?" she asks once they settle back in a more serious mood.
"An’ where ’s it that we are, darling?" Well, not serious per se for Harry who’s apparently still hanging on the banter.
"Ugh, Harry you’re a pain."
"Ohhh, so 3 minutes ago you were kissin’ the hell out o’ me an’ now I’m a pain? Can’t find the logic in tha’, love."
"What?! I wasn’t kissing the hell out of you! And may I remind you, you started kissing me, not the other way around."
"’S right, love. I kissed you heaven, ‘cause ya were just too damn beautiful." She can’t help the blush coloring her cheeks, as she listens to his charming words. "The way I see it, I like you, an’ ’t seems like you like me back…so let’s just be together an’ see where it goes. No pressure, no expectations. Just what feels right, ‘kay? An’ no more hiding what we feel from the other. An’ I got unlimited access to your lips"
"Yeah okay, I think I could live with that." Y/n answers before kissing him again.
This time there is more playfulness involved; they know this will be far from the last. Hands are also more curious and less hesitant as they tug at hair and jaws, and just overall roam the new surface they were given to explore. It gets to the point where their smiles are getting in the way, but they have a hard time parting anyway. They are just basking in the kind of moment where wishful thinking becomes tangible reality and the longing for mutual affection is finally sated.
When they finally lean away with unsteady breaths, they are still grinning like fools. Then their eyes align and they are struck by the two fold nature of the moment. Everything has changed whilst everything is the same. They hold the same adoration for each other, share the same kind of banter, use the same techniques for moral support (this isn’t the first sweet and sour emergency procedure Harry has had to perform). And yet, they now flaunt smiles wide enough to annoy bystanders, transparent eyes that no longer hold mystery and unrestrained movements led by the simple desire to be closer to the other.
"Wanna watch a movie then?" Harry asks absentmindedly as he's caressing her cheek.
"Think I wanna go for something more stimulating actually." That draws back his full attention faster than she can say ‘hands off mister'. She wants to wipe the smugness off his face (tough she secretly loves it), but decides she can beat him at his own game as she leans forward until her lips are brushing the tip of his ear. "I’d rather kick your ass at Scrabble again if you don’t mind."
And really Harry wasn’t expecting that and he has to close his eyes and pinch at his nose to rein himself back in. "That was one time, love. You beat me one time. By 5 points. An’ I was down wit’ the flu. Besides, wit’ the stunt you just pulled I wonder whose ass needs reshaping…" He counters while taking a bite of his own at her earlobe.
"Behave, Styles."
"Yes ma’am" he obeys but not without leaving a tender kiss to her neck. "So, you get the game, I get us tea?"
"Atta boy" y/n can’t help but teasing before dismounting the couch and heading for her living room closet.
30 minutes later, they are both sitting, facing each other on the floor, sides resting on the front of the couch. The Scrabble board is wedged between their legs, half completed and it’s y/n’s turn to place her letters. She’s got a giant smirk on her face that Harry has yet to notice in his imperturbable concentration. He’s determined to prove her wrong, she knows. Y/n has always found his competitive nature to be quite adorable. Especially when things are not looking in his favor and he gets that deep frown on his face and maybe even pouts a little if he’s trying to impress a certain someone in that moment.
That’s why once he finally looks up at her, his face changes color radically. There is no doubt she’s onto something, and by the look of it, her next move might be signing his defeat.
"Nuh uh, you don’t ‘ave a Bingo." It’d be the only reason for such a reaction on her part. He just knows her so well.
"Oh what was that again Mister Scrabble King? I’m sorry, I got distracted because, I, have a Bingo, all thanks to that S you just put down. Amazing, no?" All the while, she starts putting her letters down sporting a shit-eating grin. Harry doesn’t know what to say as his eyes fall on the songbird she’s just spelt, so he pouts just like she knew he would.
"’S fine, sweetheart, just givin’ you a head start. Don’t want the defeat to hurt too bad." He’s such a sore loser, but that’s no flash news for y/n. She’s quite use to it actually, and has learnt by now to just roll her eyes.
"Sure thing, Styles, sure thing. Just play if you can’t except defeat."
They keep playing, sipping tea every now and then, y/n watching him like hawk over the rim of her mug. Because she knows he’s planning mischief. He’s playing far too innocent and being far too okay with the fact he’s only got two of her three-digit score.
It happens merely ten minutes later. Y/n is pondering over her choices, she’s got letters do spell both rate and tear but she can’t decide what’s best. (She can’t figure out that double and triple letter score nonsense like Harry does. He just always placing 2 letters in odd places that give him 34 points in one go, while she wastes her gray matter away trying to come up with seven-letter words just to end up with 12 points. It’s infuriating, really.)
The place has been eerily quiet for the past few minutes and with that thought she pauses her internal debate. It’s been quiet for too long. When she looks up at Harry, he’s sporting the same smirk she was a few moments ago.
"What?" she asks incredulously. "What!?"
"Got a bingo, darling." And really, she hates it when he calls her that because he always uses it in a patronizing tone (always meant for teasing, it goes without saying).
For a moment, y/n is overcome by the same feeling of discontent she’s had to deal with at the beginning of the evening. She really thought she was about to beat him this time. Now if he wins, she’ll be twice as bummed because she would have been so close and Harry will never let her live this down. Instead he’ll be constantly raving about how no-one can beat him at Scrabble even the strongest of contenders (and y/n sure is one of them, even he will admit)
But then Harry starts laying down the letters on the board and she has to blink twice to make sure she’s reading right. Damn, this is a first. She never thought he would revert to this.
"Um, Harry?" He hums in acknowledgement. "That’s not a word."
"Sure is, pet. I use it all the time." He answers so nonchalantly, like everything is normal and he’s just so right about this.
"Alright. Use it in a sentence then." He looks up at her with the same smirk.
"Throwin’ me under the bus, love? ’S not very nice. I didn’t question you when you nailed ya bingo." She’s seeing right through his stall-the-conversation game though.
"That’s because I had an actual word, you ass!" She exclaims outrageously. However, her smile hasn’t vanished from her face, because this means she’s still winning. He’s just being a sneaky little shit about it, is all. "Come on Styles, I wanna hear you use that stupid word of yours!"
"Damn, you’re a lioness tonight. Didn’ know I outta bring me some bodyguard to save me from your claws." Once he sees the deadpanned look she’s giving him, he puts on a fake thinking face, right hand around his chin and left arm crossed over the other. "Fine, let’s see… Hum…I…"
"Harry" y/n says in a stern voice. She can’t believe he’s still trying to get out of this.
"This situation is grootling? I am grootled?" He can’t even take himself half-seriously, knowing he was busted the moment she first read it. As they share a look, they’re like two pressure-cookers on the edge of explosion: eyes creased and cheeks puffed out from trying to rein in the fit of laughter that is begging to be relieved.
There’s no avoiding it though, boisterous cackles filling up the room, it feels like a massive relief for y/n. Relief from the work pressure she could still feel in her joints. Relief because she wouldn’t change the night for the world. Relief for the fact that Harry’s still her best-friend and can still make her laugh harder than anyone ever. Relief at the thought that she’s found her person. One that supports her in every thing she does no matter what; that is there for casual (at least in her book) Scrabble games but who doesn’t shy away when she’s at a vulnerable point and needs someone to hold the pieces back together.
So without a care, she crosses the game board, completely disrupting the pieces, and kisses him. Knees against his thigh and fingers messily tangled in his hair, she presses her soft lips to his with vibrant intention and Harry, albeit surprised, is embracing her blazing affection to the fullest. Circling her waist with one arm to bring her down and forward on his lap and carefully holding her neck with his other hand, he surrenders himself to the warmth and pleasure running thought his bloodstream. All too willingly succumbs to the flames licking at his heart and tingling the tips of his fingers. And lets his instinct guide him through the kiss, as he pours his feeling into it unabashedly.
After making their lungs starve for oxygen once again, they break the kiss in one last giggle.
"So, if only for future anecdote purposes, what does grootle mean?" Y/n asks before capturing her lower lip between her teeth. The game is screwed now, pieces all over the place except on the board; but she doesn't regret screwing it up herself even when she was that close to finally shut his bragging cake-hole. She’d rather do it with her lips anyway.
"Fuck, gimme a mo’ angel. Just kissed me breathless, an’ this time ’s true." A blush immediate creeps up her cheeks at his words, so she dives and hides her face on the crook of his neck. The action has him chuckling as he runs his hand up and down her back and thinks of his next answer.
"Ya see, grootle is a fascinating word. Can be an adjective, like in ‘I’m so fucking grootle to have you, I can’t believe you’re lettin’ me be yours’. But it can also be a verb as in ‘you’re amazing an’ I wanna grootle the shit out of you’ if ya know what I mean," he adds with a smirk and raises his eyebrows twice flirtingly.
"God, you’re such a dork, Harry."
"Just shut up and come kiss your dork." He simply answers while pulling her to his lips and y/n thinks she’s had worst nights.
➪ Masterlist
#Harry styles writing#harry styles#one shot#harry styles one shot#creative writing#+5k#sorry it wasn't supposed to be this long
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Date
(from the Flatmate!Harry Series)
...in which Harry and Y/N go on their first day, and it turns out quite unexpected.
Warning: language, mention of smut, fluff, boyfriend Harry.
Harry’s never done this before.
He’s done some crazy shits in his life (he’s got more than just a few meaningless tattoos on his body to prove it) and never been afraid of taking risks, but now when it comes to Y/N, Harry must admit he’s a little bit frightened. He’s never taken a girl out for a romantic dinner or bought her flowers or written love notes. That’s not who he is, well, was, in past tense. Because with Y/N now in the picture, he kind of wants to be that person for her. He’s more than willing to change, which, he believes, shouldn’t be too hard since he hasn’t been the same since they first met. However, he cannot help but feel like there’s still so much more to work on. After all, he doesn’t want Y/N to leave him, that’s the thing he fears the most.
“I want to take you out on a date,” he says to her the next morning, one day after their first kiss. “I stayed up last night to plan the whole thing, you just need to say yes.”
Y/N, still in her PJ, stares at Harry from her bedroom door with her eyes widened.
“You really didn’t have to.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest. “We hang out all the time, and we’re also living together! I mean, you fell asleep in my bed last night during The Notebook! We already look like a married couple to me, we don’t need a fancy date.”
“Are you kidding me? Yes, we do.” Harry scoffs. “If we’re going to be boyfriend and girlfriend, you’re getting a proper first date!”
They’ve never discussed this topic before, but Y/N honestly finds him referring to them as boyfriend and girlfriend kind of sexy. She immediately walks up to Harry and throws both arms around his neck, as a result, making him smile so wide.
“I like this Harry. Let’s keep him.” Y/N’s comment makes her flatmate chuckle. He cocks his head to the side and rests his hands gently on her lower back.
“He’s not going anywhere. I guarantee,” Harry tells Y/N with certainty.
...
Y/N spends almost two hours digging through her closet, trying on clothes for her date with Harry tonight. She eventually comes to a decision to wear this basic flowered black dress she hasn’t worn again since her sixteenth birthday, because her boyfriend back then said it made her look old. But when Harry finally sees Y/N in that dress, he tells her without a second thought that she looks ‘very beautiful’. He could lie and she wouldn’t care, she’s never been more sure of her feelings for anyone else.
On their way leaving their flat, Harry and Y/N run into their next door neighbor Ben who just came back home from work. In contrast to the cheerfulness on the young couple’s faces, the man appears a bit irritated and upset, though he immediately hides that look behind a smile when he sees them.
“Good evening, lovelies. Where are you going?”
“Uh...Dinner,” is Harry’s answer as he exchanges looks with Y/N, such behavior can never pass the eyes of their experienced neighbor.
“Oh my God, are you two going on a date?” he gasps, only receiving two smiles as a confirmation but that’s all he needs.
“Finally! I was rooting for you guys!” Ben squeals, clapping his hands excitedly. “Wait until the gossip lady downstairs hear about this! She thinks getting money from me is easy? I’ll show her!”
Harry stares at the older guy with bulging eyes. “Ben, you made a bet on us?!”
“Nooooo, I actually made a bet on you. That woman said you would chicken out but I believed in you mate.” Ben gives Harry a pat on the back, making Y/N crack up whilst Harry just stands there squinting his eyes, unsure whether he should get upset or say thank you.
“So which one of you made the first move? How did this happen exactly?” Ben asks, quickly switching his finger back and forth from Harry to Y/N.
The pair just look at each other, shrug and speak at the same time, “long story.”
“You know what they say! Couples who speak together stay together!” Ben says as he turns the key to open his front door. “Sorry, that was rude of me to take so much of your time. You kids have fun on your date, okay!”
“Have a lovely night, Ben!” Y/N tells him with a smile, and when she turns away, Ben secretly winks at Harry and gives the young man, who’s grinning from ear to ear, an encouraging thumb up.
...
It only takes fifteen minutes driving to their dinner location, but Harry swears those fifteen minutes seem like a whole fucking lifetime. He remembers his first time going to school, his first time going to the hospital after breaking his arm, his first kiss, and first time having sex, none of those things made Harry as nervous as he is now. Just the simple thought of Y/N not liking the food or service at the restaurant makes his palms heavily sweat. Then he starts to wonder to himself how some of his friends can make going on dates look so easy.
Harry’s worry doesn’t go unnoticed. As soon as she sees him puckering his forehead while tapping his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel, she immediately reaches for his shoulder.
“Don’t stress too much. You could just take me to McDonald’s and I’d still be very very happy.”
“Fuck,” Harry blurts out. “I love you.”
It was supposed to be a thought in his head only, but the words slipped right out before Harry could even stop himself. As a result, his face turns bright red. Little does he know, Y/N swoons over those words just like the first time he said them to her. She leans over from the passenger seat to kiss him on the cheek, then lets him know that she loves him too.
The traffic is clear tonight so Harry and Y/N arrive at the restaurant a little sooner than scheduled. When they walk in, the place is already packed which is understandable for it’s Saturday night. Harry’s told Y/N that this is the best restaurant nearby, he knows it because he came here once with his sister when she was still in town and he’s wanted to take Y/N here ever since.
“Table for two. Harry Styles. 7 PM.”
“Sir, I apologize for the inconvenience but your table may still not be ready yet. You would have to wait another five minutes, would it be alright?” says the small lady in the uniform.
Harry presses his lips into a smile and tells her they don’t mind at all, then watches her hurry back inside, probably to take care of his reservation. Harry takes a quick glance at Y/N, who’s holding his hand and grinning to herself, that’s all it takes to boost Harry’s confidence to the max. Usually he’s not into sappy stuff like this, but now he finds going on a date strangely enjoyable. As long as she’s happy, he’s happy.
However, the enjoyment doesn’t last long for Harry, because he quickly recognizes a familiar face in the crowded room. That young waitress is too busy writing down orders to spot Harry at the entrance. The problem is, she’s not just a familiar waitress.
“Let’s not eat here! I’m taking you somewhere else, okay?” Harry speaks fast and grabs Y/N by the hand to pull her out of the waiting line.
The lady from earlier calls after Harry to say his table’s ready, still he ignores her, and keeps on walking away. Poor Y/N doesn’t know what’s going on, too confused to even protest and just lets her date lead them back to the street without any clear explanation.
“What happened?” She asks once they’re already outside.
Harry heaves out a sigh as he reads her facial expression, thinking they haven’t got to dinner yet and he’s already made her mad. There’s no point making things up now, so he straight off tells her he knows a waitress in there and is not comfortable of running into her.
He wants to curse himself out loud for the look on Y/N’s face when she comes to realization. He wants to change, but he cannot change his past and he feels threatened by the possibility of it one day being the reason Y/N walks away from him and never returns. He hangs his head and apologizes for what happened, even though it wasn’t his plan to run into one of his one-night-stands.
“It’s okay really.” Y/N takes a step closer to Harry then presses her palm to his cheek. “Thanks for being honest with me. Let’s just go back inside, I won’t mind.”
It’s confirmed, he thinks. She’s an angel.
“No, I don’t want to have her serve us dinner. It’d be really weird and uncomfortable. Tonight should only be me and you, no other distractions.”
“Then do you have a back up plan?”
“Of course I do.” Harry nods with confidence. A wise man always has a back up plan, and he believes he’s a very wise man.
Harry’s back up plan is his second favorite restaurant in this area, he also went here once with his sister, to whom he owes a thank you after tonight. This restaurant is smaller and cheaper than the first one, but it’s outdoors, which he thinks Y/N may like since they’ll be eating in a garden, surrounded by fairy lights, under the stars. If this isn’t romantic, Harry doesn’t know what is.
“This place is beautiful,” Y/N exclaims as she grabs a menu on the table. Harry does the same with a huge smirk on his face, pretty proud of himself for successfully planning out this perfect dinner. It almost seems like nothing else can go wrong.
But...
Yes, there’s been a lot of ‘buts’ tonight. The biggest problem Harry doesn’t seem the notice yet, is the fact that they’re sitting outdoors with no roof above their heads.
Harry’s scanning his eyes through the menu when the first rain drop falls down on his shoulder, he doesn’t feel it. Then comes a few others on his arms and face causing him to look up at the sky. Large pillows of dark clouds are forming, a very bad sign indeed. Five seconds are all it takes for the rain to come pouring down like a water fall. Harry grabs Y/N’s hand as they run to take shelter under the nearest roof, unfortunately, they’re not as dry as before when they get there.
Harry brushes his wet strands of hair out of his eyes, trying to catch his breath as he turns to Y/N, who doesn’t look any better, all soaked from her head to toes.
“Harry, I’m wet, let’s just go home,” Y/N says and Harry stares at her with his eyes and his mouth wide open.
“Y/N Y/L/N, we’re in public!” he gasps, instantly receives a playful swat on the chest.
...
The heavy downpour obscures the view from Y/N’s bedroom window as the wind and raindrops beat on the glass with violent force. Harry’s a bit glad that they got home just before the heavy shower made it impossible to drive, still and all, he’s also disappointed for their date was canceled halfway. It was all perfectly planned out in his head, if it hadn’t been for the series of unfortunate events, tonight could’ve been amazing.
Y/N’s kneeling on her bed in front of Harry, drying his hair with a towel after she’s finished drying her own.
“I like rain, always sleep better when it’s raining outside,” she softly says.
Harry stays still with his legs crossed and hands on his lap, like a little puppy as Y/N takes care of him, and she knows he loves being taken care of. At moments like this, he’s just glad they’re living together.
Y/N puts the towel aside then grabs Harry’s face to peck him on the lips, telling him he’s good to go, but he’s certainly not going anywhere now that he has her under his fingertips. As Y/N intends to rise from the bed, Harry slides his hands up to her hips, making the young woman flinch and blush a little bit when he slowly guides her to sit on his lap, facing him, legs wrapped around his torso.
“Why are you wearing this tank top, huh?” he asks with a husky voice when his eyes make a trip down from her lips to her chest. Y/N swallows hard, shifting a little bit in her flatmate’s lap while his eyes are burning holes on her flushed skin.
“Because it’s comfy?” she almost whispers.
“It’s too revealing. It does things to me.” Harry literally growls as he starts nosing at her jaw, she smells like lavender, and he cannot get enough. Y/N’s eyes fall shut. Her fingers soon find their way to his hair then she feels herself melting into their eager kiss.
“Harry, we-”
“I know,” he whispers against her lips, his eyes are close, too lost in her scent and taste but he’s aware of his own intentions. “We’re not gonna do anything you don’t want to. I just want to kiss you.”
Harry’s thoroughly surprised by his own words. Of course he’s always got good self-control in situations like this, but whenever he was making out with a girl in bed, one way or another, they ended up fucking. This is something different on a whole new level. He’s not gonna lie, he wants Y/N without a doubt. Sometimes when he’s alone, he even lets his imagination get a bit too wild with the thoughts of them having sex. But Y/N is not one of his hookups, she’s special, and he cannot risk losing something so special by rushing this.
When Harry lays Y/N down on her back, she’s already a mess beneath him, half-heartedly wanting him to take her all at once, but for some unknown reasons, she’s afraid. She’s afraid that this is only special to him because they’re not having sex. As soon as they have sex, it’s very unlikely that everything stays the same. Having gone through all those shitty past relationships, Y/N didn’t want to fly too high to come tumbling down at the end, but now there’s no turning back, so she can only hope he won’t leave her alone.
“Harry, stop!” Y/N nearly shouts as she sits right up, forcing Harry to do the same. He looks rather shocked than confused by his girlfriend’s reaction when just a few seconds ago she seemed like she really enjoyed it.
“D-did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?” Harry asks, a painful look displays upon his face. Y/N, now is already standing by the bed, shakes her head no as a response.
“You didn’t hurt me. I...Well...”
Her sentence is left unfinished, suddenly interrupted by the loud shouting in the hallway. The gay couple next door are arguing again, but this time it seems pretty serious because they start using really harsh words to call each other. Y/N immediately rushes outside to see if they’re alright, and Harry has no choice but to follow her.
When they open the door, they only see Ben, his fiancé Mark has probably left. Ben stands with his head against the door to his flat and he seems absolutely devastated, so Y/N hurriedly walks up to him and asks if he’s okay.
“He cheated on me, Y/N,” the poor guy says between sobs. Y/N and Harry exchange looks with each other but no one speaks a word since presumably he still has a lot to say.
“I saw the texts on his phone to one of his colleagues. I confronted him about it and we argued, then he walked away...”
Y/N swallows hard as Ben turns around to give her a hug. She stands like a statue with her hands on his back, letting her heartbroken friend cry on her shoulder.
“He said he loved me and that he would change...I should never have believed him.”
The words strike down hard on both Y/N and Harry like a violent hit on the head, each for a different reason. So when they’ve said goodbye and good luck to their distraught neighbor, walk back into their flat and close the door, Harry just has to come forward and ask, “can we talk?”
Y/N’s not in any way fond of those words. Every time she hears it, it’s never news. However, she still calmly turns to face him and gives him a slight nod. Harry takes his seat on the sofa then Y/N follows right after to sit down beside him.
“I want to know what you thought about tonight,” says Harry as he maintains eye-contact with Y/N.
“Despite all the things that happened, I loved it.” Y/N smiles at him. “Why?”
“Because I noticed the way you looked when you heard what Ben said, and your reaction earlier in the bedroom. Is there anything you want to tell me, Y/N?”
“I...I can’t tell you, you won’t understand.”
Nothing’s ever hurt her more than the look on his face when she tells him those words. They sit in silence for a couple seconds, then Harry’s the first one to speak up.
“You don’t trust me.”
“That’s...not true...”
“Then what is?” He frowns, looking so disappointed it breaks her heart. “Because you’re obviously not telling me the truth, Y/N.”
When he intends to stand up, she immediately grabs onto his arms, eyes begging him not to leave her hanging.
“Please don’t go,” she pleads.
And he softens all at once. “Then tell me what you’re thinking, baby. We promised to be honest to each other no matter what.”
“Okay, but promise you won’t be mad?”
He nods and gives her his word.
“Well...The truth is...I was afraid you will leave me once we’ve had sex...”
His eyes grow wide in reaction to her words. Then without saying a single word, he rises from the sofa then marches away, toward his room. Y/N becomes frantic with worry so she chases after him.
“You promised you wouldn’t be mad!”
Harry instantly stops, then turns around to face his flatmate who’s standing in front of him with fear in her eyes.
“I’m not mad at you. I’m hurt.”
And Y/N’s speechless. Harry exhales sharply, placing both hands on his hips, and he’s not even looking at her right now.
“I did everything I could to make you happy, Y/N. I tried to prove to you I’d got better. But how do you expect me to feel when I put so much effort in planning out a date which turned to shit then heard my girlfriend say she thought I only wanted her for sex? It...It seems like no matter what I do, I’m still the same old me to you, never gonna be good enough, aren’t I?”
Every word he says is like a knife pierced right through her chest and Y/N feels as if she’s already on the verge of crying. She closes the distance between them then wraps her arms around his torso pulling him in. Harry hugs her back despite how downhearted he is by her, because no matter what she says or thinks of him, she’s still the one he loves.
“You are always enough,” she mumbles into his shirt, though it’s muffled he still hears every word very clearly. “It’s just...When something’s too good to be true happens to you, you cannot help but feel scared you might lose it...You falling in love with me is still very surreal to me. My worst fear is one day you’ll realize that it’s all an illusion and whatever feelings you’ve had for me aren’t real.”
“That’s the dumbest shit I’ve heard, Y/N. If I could just unlove you, I wouldn’t have gone through so much trouble just to prove it to you I’m worth it.”
She looks at him timidly, but is now more at ease hearing what he has to say.
“I mean, fuck, have you ever seen me stay up all night to google ‘how to impress a girl on your first date’ before?” Harry rolls his eyes skyward and starts beaming when he hears her snort.
"And when I said I only wanted to kiss you, that was really what I meant. I just wanted to kiss you, nothing more. If it was too much, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. But baby...” Harry heavily breathes. “...I’m a fool for you, and it’s embarrassing how much I enjoy it.”
Y/N is in transports of delight as she wraps her arms around his neck. Honestly, she thinks she’s even a bigger fool than he is in this relationship, because just a look of his green eyes or his beautiful smile or the way her name sounds on his lips can send her straight on cloud nine. And now he’s standing in front of her, saying all that, Y/N is just barely breathing.
“Don’t you dare not kiss me again, understand you fool?!”
“Okay, ma’am. Shall we carry on where we left off?” Harry smirks and leans down to reattach their lips, but Y/N is quick to stop him with a hand on his chest, slightly pushing him away.
“Later! Now I’m going to make us dinner. Then we’ll finish our wonderful date night by watching Netflix, you’ll get to pick the movie this time.”
“Need some help in the kitchen?”
“No. You’ve done enough, mister! We’re all about gender equality in this house!” Y/N announces loudly as she dances her way into the kitchen, pointing her finger at Harry, who simply shakes his head, smiling uncontrollably.
“That’s my girl.”
#I finally did it#THE STRUGGLE IS REAL#gonna edit when i'm free#harry styles#flatmate!harry#harry styles imagine#harry styles imagines#harry styles one shot#harry styles one shots#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfics#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfictions#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut#harry styles blurb#boyfriend!harry#bestfriend!harry
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40. “Don’t apologize if you don’t mean it.” for Ineffable Husbands + Gabriel
Still here! Still writing. Just... has a rough time of things lately lol. Hoping to get a crack at more of these soon. This one is part of a larger work that I'd like to get around to putting together soon. We'll see!
[PROMPT ME!] | [AO3]
--------------------------------
There are many things which Aziraphale could have expected following recent events, but Gabriel sitting in his kitchen was not one of them. It’s been one month since Judgment Day—not the Judgment Day, mind you, just... theirs. Phanuel, the Archangel of Judgment, had passed judgment on all of them following several further adventures after the Notpocalypse which Aziraphale would rather not think about just now. Phanuel had found Gabriel’s leadership lacking, his faith weak, and his methods unbefitting of his station. Initially, their decided upon punishment had been rather harsh: he was to be stripped of his archangel status and cast out.
Now, stripping an Archangel of their status isn’t quite so simple as a demotion. From what Aziraphale understands, the violence equated with it is rather Old Testament. Thankfully, it’s not something Aziraphale has ever had to see in his time. And it remains that way simply because he’d asked.
While it’s true that he and Gabriel are not exactly friends (they are very far from it, but Aziraphale would rather not admit that to himself), Aziraphale couldn’t help but find the punishment too severe. Having wings torn off and eyes put out and Her grace ripped from you seemed... ‘inhumane’ is likely not the best word to use, but it’s the best he can come up with. Crowley hadn’t been pleased (please read as: ‘was fucking furious’) when Aziraphale had come to Gabriel’s defense, but ultimately had to accept Phanuel’s judgment like the rest of them. And Phanuel had listened.
Which is why Aziraphale now finds himself with Gabriel as his houseguest for the next century, residing in his spare bedroom as he’s barred from Heaven while he reacquaints himself with humanity and reflects upon his actions. Crowley has been tasked with assisting Aziraphale in this venture—his own form of punishment. Looking at the demon hovering beside him, you would think Crowley would have preferred to Fall all over again rather than lift a finger to help Gabriel.
...there’s actually a very good chance that’s true, but Aziraphale decides to ignore that thought for now.
“So!” he says to the room as he places tea for the three of them on the table. He straightens up. He clears his throat. He crosses his arms. He uncrosses them. He makes to put them in his pockets but thinks better of it at the last moment. And eventually, he settles for clasping them so tightly that his knuckles turn white. “...so...”
He can’t think of anything to say. Not a single thing. Usually, the words come tumbling out of his mouth whether he wants them to or not but now he finds that particular well appears to have quite suddenly dried up. Gabriel is still technically his superior. Only he isn’t. But Aziraphale can’t help but think of him as such. Either way, it's the first time he's emerged from his room in the past month.
“So... tea. Ah... I wasn’t sure which you might prefer, so I took a guess and thought it would be best to play it safe with plain green tea,” Aziraphale declares.
“You know I don’t...” Gabriel’s face wrinkles in an expression of disgust. “...consume things.”
“Yes, I... seem to recall you mentioned that,” Aziraphale answers. “But I thought that if you’re meant to be here to be among humans, then perhaps you might... reconsider?”
Gabriel’s flat stare is enough of an answer. No tea, then. Crowley snorts, swiping his own cup off the table and leaning into the counter with his hip, his eyes unreadable behind his shades but undoubtedly pinned on Gabriel. The Archangel doesn’t appear interested in what Crowley thinks of him, keeping his sights set on Aziraphale, his violet gaze duller than the Principality can ever remember having seen.
“Apparently one of the conditions of my probation,” Gabriel says, accentuating the word with some annoyance, “is to issue you an apology. So since we’re sitting here, why don’t we get that out of the way now.”
Crowley, who has been curiously silent until this point, decides now is the perfect time for him to enter the conversation. “Seeing as that condition is a proper apology, I’ll go ahead and guess that whatever it is you’re about to say is shit, so you can save it. Don’t apologize if you don’t mean it.”
“I suppose you would know all about that, wouldn’t you?” Gabriel retorts. “Being the Archangel of Forgiveness and all. Oh, excuse me; former Archangel of Forgiveness.”
Another parting gift of Judgment Day. They’d learned, courtesy of Phanuel, that prior to his Fall, Crowley had been the Archangel of Forgiveness. Aziraphale had even learned his former name... but it wasn’t something they’d discussed yet. Even a month on, Crowley shied away from the conversation, keeping the old hurt clutched close to his chest. It's not something he's ready to talk about just yet. It's very clearly still a sore spot, as Crowley has a hand around Gabriel’s throat in seconds.
“Crowley!” Aziraphale squawks in alarm.
Gabriel doesn't appear nearly so flustered as Aziraphale. In fact, he looks quite calm, making no effort to throw Crowley off of him.
“Well?” Gabriel taunts. “What are you waiting for?”
“I ought to tear you into a million pieces, you know that?”
The husky growl of Crowley’s voice sends a shiver down Aziraphale’s spine. He sounds... dangerous. In a way that the angel doesn’t think he’s heard before. Oh, he's heard him angry before. Heard him pretend to be for show, too. But this is something else entirely. He doesn’t like it. Not one bit.
“Go ahead,” Gabriel answers, voice growing hoarse as Crowley’s fingers dig into his neck. “Show me what you’ve got.”
“Alright, that’s enough, both of you,” Aziraphale says, edging towards them. “Enough.”
“Do you know how often I’ve thought about this?” Crowley asks him, nails digging into the Archangel’s skin. “You think Heizer had it out for you? She’s not even on the map compared to me. I could end you right now.”
“Then stop wasting my fucking time,” Gabriel spits, “and do it.”
“I said enough.”
Aziraphale really hadn’t meant to shout like that. The lightbulbs above the kitchen table burst in a flash of light, sending shattered glass raining down upon the table. A sudden zap of electricity like a miniature bolt of lightning follows half a second later, leaving a scorch mark on the table and cracking one of his teacups and the saucer it sits on in two. Aziraphale muffles a frustrated sound behind tightly sealed lips, willing himself to remain calm. This has really gotten to be too much. He jabs his pointer finger at Crowley.
“You. Downstairs. Shop. Now.”
It says something that Crowley doesn’t argue with him—only giving Gabriel a parting shove as he releases him—but Aziraphale isn’t sure precisely what that is. He waits until Crowley brushes past him before he turns on Gabriel next.
“And you... you... you... go to your room.”
It's all he could think to say. The Archangel hardly acknowledges him as he stiffly rises from his seat and disappears into said room, the door closing with a soft click behind him without having ever been touched. It's strange, but Aziraphale could almost swear Gabriel had seemed... disappointed. Disappointed that he'd interrupted. Angry as he is, the implication makes his stomach churn. This behavior isn't like Gabriel at all.
Aziraphale stands alone in the middle of his kitchen, letting out a great sigh and pressing his hands to his face. What a mess. He'd just finally managed to convince Gabriel to leave his room and now he's certain it will be at least another month before he's able to do it again. Perhaps next time he'd best try it alone. Clearly, he needs to work on the issues surrounding Crowley and Gabriel separately before he can have them together.
With an absent wave of his hand, he clears the mess on the kitchen table and heads for the front door of his flat. He takes his time navigating the stairs which lead down to the shop, trying to collect his thoughts along the way until he reaches the bottom and finds Crowley sitting on the squashy sofa in his backroom. Although, it never seems that Crowley sits anywhere so much as he's displayed there. Even as languidly as he appears to be draped across the sofa, Aziraphale can read his mood through the tension in his shoulders and the thin, unhappy line his lips are pressed into.
"I don't want to see that again," Aziraphale says, as calmly as he can manage. "Whatever feelings you may have on the matter, Gabriel is still with us for the next one-hundred years and we'd do well to make the best of it."
"Except he wouldn't be if you hadn't said anything," Crowley points out. "Phanuel was ready to do it right then and there. Title stripped and out you go! But you thought that was too harsh."
"And I stand by that," Aziraphale responds stiffly.
"Even after everything he's done. Everything he's said to you, how he's treated you—when—it's—he made you walk through hellfire, Aziraphale. Me. Me!you. You know what I mean," Crowley says, jumping up off the sofa and approaching him. "No trial, no chance to explain yourself. Just watched you walk through a whirlwind of hellfire with a smile on his face."
It's not something Aziraphale cares to be reminded of. When Crowley had first told him—long after their trials had taken place—it had... hurt. Even knowing he had never quite fit in among them, that they perceived him as odd, it had still stung. He had expected better of Heaven. But it wasn't the righteous and loving place he had always held it to be. Maybe it never was. It's been so long, it's sometimes difficult to remember.
"I know that," Aziraphale says after a moment. "But that doesn't mean he should be—"
"Listen to yourself!" Crowley shouts. "How can you stand there and—and—and defend him like that?"
"I don't need you to be angry for me, Crowley!" Aziraphale bites back at him. "It isn't helping matters."
"Well you'll hardly do it yourself, so someone has to," Crowley says.
"No. You don't get to decide that," Aziraphale says, feeling heat rise under his collar. "If you want to be angry, be angry for yourself, not because of some misguided need to protect me from something."
"Misguided?" Crowley laughs. "You would have never had to deal with him again if you'd just kept quiet. Instead, you let him walk all over you at any given opportunity, made sure he got off with a slap on the wrist and haven't given him so much as 'serves you right' since he got here!"
He hates this. Hates when they come to this, to jabbing at sore spots to prove their points. But he doesn't know how to make this make sense to Crowley.
"I just didn't want to see it happen!" Aziraphale blurts. "I didn't want to see—It's the worst thing I could imagine. The worst punishment there could be."
"Yeah? Well, I Fell. I'm still here," Crowley snaps. "He'd've lived, the ungrateful sod. But sure, I can see why ending up like me would be the worst punishment imaginable."
"Crowley," Aziraphale says, softer now. "You know that isn't what I meant at all."
"Then why?" Crowley demands, ripping off his shades to look him straight in the eye. "Why would you do that for him?"
This is hurting Crowley, Aziraphale realizes. It hurts him to see Aziraphale seemingly sweep Gabriel's words and actions under the rug. He knew that it frustrated the demon, but this isn't annoyance. He's angry about a situation that that he has no control over.
"Because I—I just can't. I can't stand to see that happen to anyone else," Aziraphale says with a heavy sigh. He reaches out, bracing his hands on the demon's biceps. "I can't do that. Not when there's potential for him to change. Not when he was doing as She had instructed. Because She left us, Crowley. None of us have seen her in... Well, I don't rightly know how long. I haven't heard Her since She asked me what I'd done with that blasted sword back at the wall. It didn't seem fair to punish him with something so cruel when all he'd been doing was his best to do what She had asked of him, even if he hadn't done it the right way. I don't regret stopping it. And if I'd been there when you—I mean, if I could've—if somehow..."
If he could've spared Crowley the pain of Falling, he'd have given anything to do so. Any part of him. All of him. Crowley sighs loudly, some of the anger trickling out of him as Aziraphale anxiously dances around the subject. He reaches up, prying one of Aziraphale's hands-free and lifting it to his face to kiss the angel's open palm.
"I wouldn't have let you, angel," Crowley says. "That's not something I want you to do for me."
Aziraphale flexes his fingers, brushing them against the demon's cheek. Of course, Crowley would never wish for him to do something like that. He would never wish for Aziraphale to take his place, to spare him any pain. It doesn't mean the angel wouldn't try to do it anyway.
"My point is that it hurt you. It still hurts you, to the point that you won't even talk to me about it," Aziraphale says, watching as the demon's eyes cut away from him briefly. "And knowing how much pain it causes... I couldn't bear to think of standing back and watching it happen to anyone else. I suppose I'm just too squeamish when it comes to these things. So really, it's—it's less for Gabriel and more for my own comfort."
Crowley studies him carefully, slitted pupils expanding and contracting in the cozy lighting of the shop. After several long moments, he seems to reach some sort of conclusion as he steps into Aziraphale's personal space, wrapping his arms around the angel's shoulders and burying his face against his neck. Aziraphale can't help but melt into his embrace, unable to resist it, the sensation of having Crowley pressed against him a heady feeling even now. He lets out a long, slow sigh, his arms lazily circling the demon's trim waist as he pulls him closer.
"You're a terrible liar," Crowley says in his ear.
"I am a perfectly good liar," Aziraphale asserts. "Well... I mean in situations where one must lie in order to—"
"Alright, alright, I'm sorry I even said it," Crowley groans.
They stand there for a few moments longer before Aziraphale says, "You should know, I'm not attempting to ignore Gabriel's past actions. It's all very... complicated. Believe me, I'm as uncomfortable as you are, but I'd still rather this than the alternative. I understand, though, if you would rather not be involved. I can do my best to—"
"No," Crowley says, cutting him off. "It's part of my punishment, too. Something tells me if I slack off, I'll get more than just a talking to."
"Likely so," Aziraphale hums thoughtfully. He waits the length of several heartbeats before he adds, "I don't need you to fight my battles, my dear. I understand you may wish to but... trust me, please, won't you?"
He feels Crowley tense, knowing that urge to bite back had been prodded back to life like a hot coal. But it never comes. The demon breathes out slowly, his grip on Aziraphale tightening briefly before he pulls back.
"Let's just sit for now, yeah?" he asks.
He wants to argue his point, Aziraphale can tell. But he holds back, perhaps tired of this back and forth himself. They migrate over to the sofa, arranging themselves comfortably and settling together. Crowley is still angry, Aziraphale knows. It's likely he'll hold onto that anger for some time; he's always had very staunch opinions of Gabriel regarding his interactions with Aziraphale. Gabriel has been... well, mean. He's been cold and cruel and purposefully so. But the thing of it is, none of the things Gabriel has said or done would hurt nearly so much if Aziraphale didn't on some level believe them himself.
He's not a good angel. He never has been. Really, he can't even hide behind the excuse of having done his best, because he can't claim to have always done so. Aziraphale is a million things an angel shouldn't be; hedonistic, fanciful, soft. Frankly, he finds it something of a wonder that Phanuel hadn't condemned him to Fall. He'd fully been expecting it. After all, if the Archangel Gabriel had been deemed to be in the wrong, surely Aziraphale must be that one hundredfold.
But that punishment had never come. There are so many questions that he doesn't have answers to; Phanuel had left them as quickly as they'd come before he had the mind to ask any of them. Was this the Almighty's decision? Or has Phanuel simply been doing as Gabriel has done and acted on their own authority in an effort to do as She had asked? Aziraphale doesn't know. He has a feeling he won't get his answers any time soon.
"I think," Aziraphale says suddenly, "that he truly wanted you to do it."
Gabriel. The way he had looked after Aziraphale had separated them, the disappointment in his eyes. Stubborn and prideful though he is, he'd worn his shame draped about his shoulders like an old shawl and seemed to make no effort to throw it off. Perhaps in his mind, it was easier to face his own destruction than it was his shame.
"Please do not tell me you feel sorry for him," Crowley grumbles against his chest.
Aziraphale bites his lip. He doesn't want to argue again. Crowley sighs loudly, but it lacks the annoyance the angel had been expecting.
"I know you do, angel. It's alright," Crowley declares, seemingly resigned to that fact. He pushes himself up to look Aziraphale in the eye. "But you won't accept any apology from him until he means it—if he ever does. Alright?"
"Alright," Aziraphale agrees softly.
"Alright?" Crowley presses, watching him carefully.
Crowley knows, Aziraphale thinks, that he's liable to fold on that promise. Aziraphale is too eager to please, too eager to smooth things over, so eager to put water under the bridge that he's liable to flood it and drown himself with it instead. Aziraphale knows that, too.
Soft.
You're too soft.
Aziraphale knows this. He does. And yet...
"Alright."
He can do better. They can all do better. And they will.
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VacuBeds - Michifer (SPNKinkBingo 2019)
(or read it on AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/17932484 )
Michael had known for a long time that his brother, no now he was more than that, had been kinky and pretty open to experimenting in the bedroom as mortals would call it.
Over the course of the past eons they had bonded oh so well, had called each other a „mate“ and therefor it hurt so much more than most mortals knew when Lucifer got the mark and started the rebellion, when he just danced out of line.
It was the only way to get the other under control, something they had found out eons ago, back at the war, at the big fight - the rebellion of god´s brightest angel - the morningstar - as mortals and even Chuck himself liked to call it.
A saying that had transformed to the angels by now as well. A saying that was not quite true considering everything that had happened, after all for them this was just another fight for them, good this time it had gotten far too big, far too extreme and the mark was just the tip of the iceberg, making it too heated, too uncontrolled to ever be controlled again and so everything exploded and got out of control.
But actually it had started out as a harmless little fight, a fight that could have been kept at bay with one of their more special activities they had. Sex.
Michael knew how to keep Lucifer´s temper at bay, how to keep him under his literate and metaphorical wing. How to help him sort his thoughts and manage his anger. The anger he had always had but had gotten so much worse with the mark of Cain.
But over the eons they had found out a good way how to cope with this – bondage. It helped Lucifer unwind and give the complete control to Michael- with a little struggle for power of course. And by now, after they had gotten out of the cage again there had been something else, something new.
Vacuum beds. They were a form of bondage a lot more intensive, a lot more controlled, just what Lucifer often seemed to need. And right now that was exactly what they were doing, Michael had had enough of the other angel´s behaviour, had had enough of how fussy, moody and arrogant he was towards him, challenging him to do something, to spank him or do anything else to discipline him. But he did not want to give in again, the last time it had gotten him a shit-eating grin instead of an apology like it usually did. Lucifer liked to provoke and to overstep boundaries just to get /more/.
Sometimes the older angel even wondered weather that his brother could ever be sated or not. But there were the times where some simply bondage, tying his hands together or robbing him off his eyesight or ability to verbally communicate was enough to make Lucifer come down, the sex that usually followed was a nice side effect too.
But not today, Lucifer was dancing around him again, avoiding any direct contact as not to falter and just give into his need to be disciplined and fucked till he could no longer see. But the way he was riling Michael up was enough to let the older know what exactly Lucifer was trying to get out of this. When evening rolled around it was finally time that Michael had enough of this sort of behaviour and just grabbed the younger angel by the throat and had pressed him against the nearest wall, smirking at the way his pupils dilated and his breathing, although unnecessary, hitched.
“Mika-” he breathed out, his usual arrogant frown faltering. Usually Lucifer put up more of a fight but it seemed like he really did need this now. They had not had sex in almost a week and both of them had been quiet busy over the course of the past days, not being able to spend a lot of time together and since the angels did not need sleep they did not even lay together after a long day. Michael´s lips tugged into a smirk at the given reaction and he slowly, carefully flicked the tip of his tongue over the smaller´s neck, making him title his head and close his eyes in return. The gesture was very much appreciated because now the older being could sink his teeth into the sensitive flesh there, sicking and biting a harsh mark just over Lucifer´s pulse-point, to mark him up in a way everyone could see. For this the hand around his throat had disappeared and was now used to lean against the wall, cornering him there and keeping him from escaping, not that Lucifer had wanted to escape anyway.
Once he was satisfied with the way the other had started to squirm and groan, his hands clutched into Michael´s sides, trying to get a hold, he pulled away and admired the dark purple mark he had left there. “Mhn, always looking so good with my marks all over you, don't you think so, hm?” he asked but more rhetorically than actually expecting a verbal answer out of the other.
After a moment of silence that was only met with a slight but shy grin he chuckled and flicked his tongue over the mark again, making Lucifer squirm and moan, finally getting a proper reply out of him.
“Can you..tie me up.”
It was worded like a question but his voice did not rise at the end, implying it was more of a command than anything else and Michael only chuckled again, humming as he nodded. Of course he could tie him up all nice and good. Or he could do something even better, and that was exactly what he was going to do today. He would help Lucifer into the so called vacuum bed.
While his eyes searched the others to make sure he really was up to it, he told him about his plan. The eager nod that followed, the whispered “please” and the needy look that slowly stole itself into the angels eyes was enough of an answer to know that Michael had decided in the right way about this.
Of course he could punish Lucifer for behaving the way he had all day but right now, he had heard his boyfriend cry out in his own way for help. For help to come down and sort himself and so he would not punish this- he only punished him when he kept on and on and on and did not stop the bratty behaviour. Of course they did have safe-words too - though not used very often.
Now he pulled away again and tugged Lucifer to their shared bedroom. Once there he quickly got the needed equipment out and put the latex envelope down, the PVC construction similar to both of them by now and easily e up. And while Lucifer was getting undressed by hand, a unnecessarity due to grace but yet a very vulnerable action, he took out the tube and made sure it was working still so Lucifer would be able to breathe.
Even if the angel did not need this, it was an added thrill and this way they were doing it properly. Once Luifer had laid down in it and Michael had made sure everything was prepared for their session he started to pump the air out of it, the latex soon covering his boyfriend like a second skin. Now the other was robbed of his vision as the latex was too dark to let any light trough. His movement had already become limited enough for him to feel safe and secure, almost like he was being hold but much more intense. Their safe-word here was that Lucifer would stop breathing as to why this was important even if he did not need to.
If the angel stopped to breath for more than a few seconds it meant that they had to stop, that it had gotten too much, but in the worst case he could made himself be known by his grace.
He was not able to hear anything, see anything or talk. His movement was restricted to some wiggling if at all and now Michael could start on their actual play, because his seniority when it came to feeling things was a heightened by now.
He used the tips of his fingers to brush over Lucifer's crotch, the spark of grace telling him that he had decided right, his body reacting as well, growing hard as Michael started to tease his balls, patient. He had all the time he wanted to take now, he could watch Lucifer fall apart and be unable to do anything, he was in full control.
And both of them loved it when Michael could do anything he pleased to the other angel who turned to putty in his hands.
@spnkinkbingo
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Like old times
This is my entry for @amanda-teaches and her undercover hunting challenge, celebrating her reaching 500 followers (woo!) The job I picked for our boys to go undercover in was *drum roll* personal trainers! So, let's get physical, shall we?
Word count: 3,929 - this is by far the longest fic I've done, and I'm not sorry for a single word of this.
Characters: Sam x Reader, Dean, a couple of original characters
Warnings: besides the amount of time it's going to take you to read this? One sassy as fuck reader, canon level violence and death, violence and injury to reader, a lot of swearing, SMUT - oral (female receiving) sexual intercourse (semi protected as reader's on the pill - always practise safe sex people!)
If I've tagged you and smut isn't your thing I apologize! Also, feedback is much appreciated - this is only my second proper time writing smut!
“Sam?”
The voice at the other end of the phone is quiet, and it takes Sam a minute in his half asleep state to realise who is calling him.
“Y/N?”
“Hey. I’m sorry to call so early, but...well, I need your help.”
“OK, remind me again who this friend is that has us up and on the road at...7:34 in the morning?” queries Dean as he points the impala out of the bunker's garage and onto the main road.
“Like I said, I know them from Stanford...”
“And they know what we do?”
“Yeah, there was a hunt a few years back...”
“And why is he calling you?”
Sam goes to reply then stops as Dean's words register in his brain. A second or two passes, and then he decides to go along with it, let Dean get a little surprise when they finally get to Denver, Colorado.
“He wouldn’t be calling unless he really needed my help.”
“Well, this better be good to have us up at the crack of dawn.”
“It will be.”
The 6 hour drive only takes just over 4 what with Dean's lead foot and the lack of traffic at this time of day, and soon Sam is directing Dean to the address Y/N gave them.
“We're meeting this guy at a gym?”
Sam smirks to himself as he leaves Dean to fill the meter and heads in to the gym.
“Hi, welcome to Fitness 24. How may I help you?” the receptionist smiles.
“Hi, could you let Y/N know that Sam Winchester is here to see her please?”
“Of course, she let us know that she was expecting you. I'll just give her a call.”
The receptionist has just put the phone down when Dean walks in, still grumbling. They stand there for a couple of minutes, and then the sound of high heels clicking on the marble floor reaches their ears.
“You got here sooner then I was expecting you to, Samuel.”
The sound of your voice has both Winchesters turning on the spot.
“How many times do I have to tell you? It’s Sam, not Samuel.”
Laughing, you throw your arms around Sam's waist and hug him tight. As you pull back, you can see another man staring at the two of you in disbelief.
“Probably the same number of times I've told you it’s Y/N/N, not Y/N.” Rising up onto your tiptoes, because even in your heels Sam still has like a foot on you, you plant a soft kiss onto his cheek. “Abby, can you divert all my calls for a bit?”
“No problem boss” the girl behind the reception desk replies.
“Right, let's take this up to my office, talk in comfort. And if you could get your jaw off my floor, that would be lovely, thanks.” That last sentence is directed towards Dean, who still hasn’t uttered a word.
You lead the way, and once in your office, you thump Sam in the arm.
“Ow! What the hell...”
“That was for lying to your brother! Because going by that face on him, he sure wasn’t expecting a woman to be stood here.”
“No, I wasn't.” Dean says, having managed to find his voice again.
“To be fair, you did think Y/N/N was a man.”
“Excuse me?” you ask, as you sit down behind your desk.
“I may, possibly, have just assumed you were a guy?” Dean mumbles.
“Hmmm. Yeah, the tits kind of put a kibosh in that. Sit down would you? This craning my neck to look at you two giants business is starting to hurt.”
Sam chuckles at your words as he and Dean sit in the chairs on the other side of your desk.
“You haven’t changed.”
“Same can’t be said for you honey. You trying to be a real life Rapunzel with that hair?” You smile as Sam flips you the bird and Dean bends over double laughing. “Right, let’s do this properly, shall we? Dean, nice to meet you. Y/N Y/L/N.”
“Likewise. So, you know Sammy from Stanford?”
“Sammy?” You cock your head in his direction and bite back a grin.
“No.”
“OK, not Sammy. Yeah, we went to Stanford together.”
“But...”
“I'm not a lawyer?” Dean nods in response. “Yeah, that was too dull for me. I did anatomy and physiology, with a business degree as my minor.”
“Then how did you two meet?”
“In the gym actually. Sam gave me sparring tips.”
“Y/N's got one hell of a right hook” Sam pipes up.
“OK. So, how is it you know about...” Dean’s question trails off, unsure of how to say it.
“Demons and angels and all that hoo-ha?”
Dean nods again, reminding you of one of those nodding head toys you stick on your car dashboard.
“Well, I hadn’t seen this one since he'd upped and left from Stanford, then a couple years back I was visiting some family of mine and nearly got killed by a vampire. That face you had at seeing me? That’s what mine looked like when I realised the bloke who had just chopped off someone else's head was Sam here.” you explain, and as you kind of expected, Dean barely bats an eyelid.
“When I left, having given ‘this one’ the whole ‘monsters are real, here's how to protect yourself’ talk” Sam glances over and shakes his head at you mouthing ‘fuck you’ to him for using your words against you “I gave her my number and told her to keep in touch. You didn’t until this morning though.”
“Yeah, well, like I said, I need your help.”
Sam and Dean look at one another, and you swear you can see an entire conversation take place.
“OK Y/N, tell us what's going on.”
A couple of hours later, and the Winchesters and yourself have come up with a plan. You had been hoping that it was just a series of weird accidents that had caused the deaths of 3 people, but when two more people had died - in your gym no less - you'd known that something was up. Thank God you'd kept Sam's number. It had been a shock when he'd saved you from certain death, even more of a shock when he'd explained that monsters were real and that was why he'd dropped out of college with half a semester to go. But he and his brother obviously knew what they were talking about and you certaainly needed every bit of help you could get. Especially when you were in danger of being shut down. The gym was your life, and you'd put everything you had and more into sorting out not just this place, but your new branch, ironically enough not too far from the brothers.
“So, a witch?”
“Yep” Dean glanced over at you as he shut the locker door. “Evidence of hex bags on at least 3 of the victims.”
“And you think it's one of my staff?”
“All the victims were members of your gym Y/N.” you turn to Sam, sat tying his shoe laces “A member of staff would easily be able to get access to their belongings.”
“Well, good thing my two newest employees have passed their background checks then.”
The plan was simple: Sam and Dean would pose as your two newest trainers. After all, they certainly had the bodies for it.
“So, as personal trainers, that gives you guys access to the entire building.”
“Who else has access like that? We'll start with them and work our way down til we find this bitch.”
You raised an eyebrow at that, and giggled when Sam not-so-quietly whispered ‘that Dean hates witches.’
“I am right there with you on this one Dean. Right, well, obviously me, but I'm good right?” Dean and Sam both nod at you and you continue on “The three other personal trainers, the head of the cleaning company I use, oh and Abby.”
“The receptionist?” Sam queries.
“Yeah, she's got a back up set of keys in case one of the other sets gets misplaced or broken. But they’ve never been needed.”
“Thanks Y/N.”
“Just find this person. Please?”
4 days later, and the witch still hasn’t been found. And someone else had nearly died, would’ve died if Dean hadn’t ran up a flight of stairs, broken into their locker and burned the hex bag. Sitting in your office, you rubbed your throbbing temples and wondered just how your life had ended up at this point. It was only the ringing of your phone that pulled you back to the here and now.
“Hello?”
“Hey Y/N/N, only us.” came Dean's voice.
“How goes it boys?”
As well as being undercover at your gym, which had seen a definite increase in female clientele, Sam and Dean were also running surveillance and research on everyone. You were certain they hadn’t slept properly since they had arrived.
“Pretty dull so far to be honest.”
“Are you sure it's Paul?” you asked once more. You wanted this witch found and burned (even though you knew from Sam that one of the only sure fire ways to end a witch was with a special bullet they'd made) but it still tore at you that the person responsible could be one of your oldest employees.
“I know we haven’t found any hard evidence Y/N, but he was the trainer to 4 of the victims, and did the initial assessment for victim number 5 and the guy Dean saved the other day.” Sam said.
“Damn it.”
“Sorry. You still at the gym?”
“Yeah, gotta go through this mountain of paperwork before I get inspected for negligence...oh, too late. I’m getting inspected.”
“We'll find this witch, Y/N. We won’t let you lose your business.”
“Thanks Samuel.”
“You're welcome. You’re not there alone are you?”
“Abby just left 5 minutes ago. I promise, I'll call it a ni...”
“Shit Y/N/N, we gotta go, something's happening!” The end call tone beeped incessantly in your ear until you put the phone down. There was only one thing for it – chocolate. Making your way downstairs, you headed over to the reception desk, knowing that Abby kept a secret stash of peanut butter cups in the bottom drawer. Pulling it open, you froze. For there wasn’t any chocolate-y goodness that you had been looking for. But there was several of the hex bags just like the ones in the pictures Dean had shown you.
“What the-” And then the blow to the back of your head sent you into darkness.
Owwwww. That was the overwhelming thought going through your mind as you regained consciousness. What the hell had just happened? Your mind went back and forth trying to remember, and as the image of the reception desk drawer came into focus, you couldn’t help but let out a gasp.
“Oh good. You’re awake. I was worried I’d hit you a bit too hard.” The taunting tone almost went in one ear and out the other, but you finally got your senses back and looked up to see Abby stood in front of you, large knife in hand. Quickly glancing round, you realised you were in your office, tied to one of the chairs.
“You?”
“Me. Nothing personal Y/N.”
“Nothing personal?!” you scoffed.
“Well, not at first. The last couple were. It was just sheer coincidence they all came here. After all, I was killing them because they’re lying, cheating scumbags.”
“Oh, of course. Perfectly understandable.”
“And of course that last one was your fault. Calling in the Winchesters? Bad move boss.” Abby said, sarcasm dripping off that last word.
“You know the Winchesters?” As the two off you talked, you could feel the ropes around your wrists loosening with every small movement you made. Maybe if you kept her talking long enough, you could break free long enough to call Sam and Dean.
“Everyone knows who the Winchesters are. Though I didn’t think you knew who they were. That was a surprise.”
“What can I say? Girl’s gotta have some secrets.” you smirked at her, and her response was to stab you in the thigh. Crying out from the sudden pain, you blinked back tears to see the door to your office fly open and Sam and Dean run in.
“About time boys!” Abby yelled, turning her back to you and with a wave of her arm throwing Sam and Dean to the walls and keeping them pinned there “I thought I was gonna have to kill little Y/N here without an audience. Tell me, how’s Paul?”
“Still alive, even with your little attack on him” Dean grunted out.
“Oh well, can’t win them all. But killing you two, and this one?” Both Winchesters gritting their teeth in barely contained anger at Abby’s words “That's definitely a win. Now, shall we hurry and finish this thing?”
“I couldn’t agree more.” you said, and Abby turned to see you stood directly behind her, ropes still round your wrist on one hand, victorious smile on your face from having broken free while she was distracted.
“What the-” That delicious bit of irony made you smile even harder, as her words were cut short by your right fist slamming itself right into her face. A roundhouse kick followed, and you had broken Abby’s focus long enough for Sam and Dean to be let go. As the two got their breath back and scrambled for their guns, you and Abby continued to fight. She might have taken the self defence classes you put on at the gym every other week, but you had sparred with Sam Winchester. It wasn’t long before you had the upper hand, and with one final right hook, you left the bloodied woman on the floor, gasping for air.
“She's all yours Winchesters.”
Limping out of your office, you didn’t even flinch when two gunshots rang out from behind you.
Sweat ran down your face as you threw another jab-jab-cross combo at the punching bag you had set up. You’d cleaned yourself up and stitched up the wound on your leg while Sam and Dean had taken care of the body, and you knew you should be asleep. But too much adrenaline still pumped through your blood, and so you found yourself back in your gym, punching and kicking for all you were worth.
“Try widening your feet another half inch.” The sudden voice made you jump, and you turned to see Sam, still dressed in his personal trainer get up, leaning against the doorframe.
“Giving me sparring tips Winchester? Well ain’t this like old times.”
“I don’t seem to remember you having beating the crap out of a witch and then me killing it back in the Stanford days Y/N. You’ve still got one hell of a right hook though.”
“Thanks. So, what happens now?”
“Well” Sam said, coming up to support the punching bag and gesturing with his head for you to continue “You’re not the only one still too hopped up to sleep, so a good old fashioned spar is first. Then, me and Dean go back home and you carry on.”
“I don’t know if I can do that Sam.” Almost like someone’s flipped a switch, all the adrenaline goes away, and turning away from Sam you have to bite your lip hard to stop from bursting into tears at the events of the last couple of weeks.
“Hey.” Sam comes round the punching bag and gently turns you round to face him “You're coming to Lebanon in a couple of weeks right?” You nod in reply, and Sam's hands come up to wipe away the tears that have managed to break free “Call me, OK? We'll get dinner.”
Dropping his hands to his sides, Sam goes to turn away, but he doesn't get far. Grabbing on to the front of Sam's vest top, you pull him down to your lips. The kiss is slow, soft, hesitant, and breaking apart, the two of you gasp heavily for air.
“You know, this isn’t the kind of spar I had in mind Y/N/N.” Sam teases.
“You really wanna stop?”
“God no.” And then this time Sam's the one reaching for you, hands curling around your waist, his fingers almost touching, and you shiver to think of how big all of him is going to be.
Sliding your hands up to his hair, you curl your fingers in and give a light tug, and the moan Sam lets out sends a jolt of pleasure right through you. You barely want to break apart from him, his kisses making you light headed and giddy, but you know you’re going to have to when you feel Sam's fingers slide under the bottom of the sports bra you’re wearing. Taking the slightest step back, you lift your arms to help Sam in getting rid of your clothing. As he lifts it over your head, his eyes go wide at the sight of your breasts, and before you can get your hands on his vest top and even out the clothing stakes, Sam's got his hands on your waist again, but this time his lips drop down your neck and collarbone until he gets to the valley in between your boobs. As his tongue finally curls over and around one nipple, he slides a hand up to play with the other one. Switching sides, you can’t help the little mewls of pleasure coming out of your mouth, and you re-curl your fingers into his hair, enjoying the vibrations of his moans on your now sensitive nipple.
“Sam....” Your voice barely sounds like your own, so breathy and filled with lust. With one final scrape of his teeth on you, Sam pulls up and back, hands leaving your waist so he can reach back and pull off that top. You can’t help the little intake of breath at the sight of him, lean and muscular, and your fingers run themselves down his pecs, the defined abs, that bloody v line that makes your mouth water, until they’re hovering over the lycra waistband of his shorts. Glancing up, Sam's eyes are almost black in colour, lust clouding them over, and with a bravery you didn’t know you had, you curl your fingers into the waistband and pull and push them and his boxers down until they’re pooled round his ankles.
“Holy shit.” Fuck knows where Sam's been packing that, because usually lycra shows everything. Sam chuckles in response, and stepping out of his clothes and kicking them behind him, he reaches for you once more. His hands slip beneath the waistband of the shorts you’re wearing, and a deep growl leaves his lips when he realises you’re naked underneath them.
“No panties? Fuck, baby, you’re gonna kill me.”
Before you know it, you’re on your back on the mat, Sam’s head making it’s way lower and lower. Your back arches at the first flick of his tongue on your swollen clit, and you have to take several deep breathes to stop yourself coming already. Sam lifts his head and rests it on your lower belly, waits for you to look at him.
“You think I’m only gonna make you come once? Don’t hold back baby. I'm not going to.” And then he's dropping back down, tongue hitting everywhere it should, and you scream your way through your orgasm. Just as you’ve come down from it, you realise Sam's still laying between your legs, and you glance down only to lock eyes with him, his nose bumping your clit and tongue still teasing your entrance.
“Think I can get one more out of you before I fuck you?” Words have left you, and all you can do is nod before your head falls back. Gripping the back of Sam's head, you tug hard.
“I'll take that as a yes then” Sam laughs, planting tiny kisses on the insides of your thighs. “Gonna use my fingers too this time. Need to make sure I don’t hurt you.” Anyone else you’d have rolled your eyes at that comment, but with Sam you know it's not bragging, but the truth. Sure enough, this time round Sam's tongue stays firmly on your clit, small flicks and sucks bringing you slowly back to that edge. As his mouth works you over, he slowly teases you with one finger, then two, until finally you’re screaming once more, pussy fluttering wildly around three of Sam's long fingers, reaching spots you never thought anyone would be able to find.
Sucking his fingers into his mouth, Sam moans as you reach down and slowly pump his length. Pulling himself up to hover over you, one arm braced in a push up position, his other hand moves to cover yours and guide him just outside where you need him the most.
“Sam, please. Need you. I’m on the pill, we're good. Fuck me, please.....oh god!!” Your words are all the permission Sam needs, and slowly he pushes into you, so slowly that just as you’re used to the stretch and burn of him, the next inch comes along. By the time his hips are flush with yours, you’re sweating and writhing underneath him, desperate for a little bit more friction.
“How are we doing this baby?” Sam asks you in between kissing and sucking at the base of your neck. With one more grab at his hair, you pull so that you can whisper into his ear.
“Hard. Wanna feel you for days Winchester.” You follow up your declaration with a bite to the soft skin under his ear, and his answering growl makes his dick jump in your pussy.
Sam finally starts to move, slow at first, but with every pull and thrust you feel every fucking inch of him. By the time he speeds up, it’s all you can do but to hold on, legs wrapped round his waist and hands digging into the muscles in his back. You’re so close, and Sam instinctively knows what you need, one of his hands shifting slightly from where it had been resting on your hip so that one of those fingers can rub slow circles around your desperately swollen bud. It only takes a few circles and then you’re coming, Sam's name nothing more then a high pitched moan from your lips. You’re just about with it when three thrusts later and Sam comes as well, his cock twitching wildly within your still spasming walls, groaning your name into your neck.
The two of you lay there, breaths coming in ragged gasps, Sam's weight surprisingly comfortable. Eventually though, he eases himself off you and pulls out, a brief whimper leaving you at how desperately empty you suddenly are. He grabs his discarded vest top and gently wipes you down, a stark contrast to how roughly he’d just fucked you. Throwing the top to the side again, Sam falls back down, this time laying on his back to the side of you and pulling you towards him. Your legs tangle up with his, and you rest your head just above his heart.
“So. I don’t remember us doing that after sparring before.”
You can’t help but giggle at that.
“Nope. That’s definitely a new one for us.”
“Y/N?”
“Yeah Sam?”
“You know how I said when you came to town, we should go get dinner?”
“Yeah.”
“Mind if I make that into a date?”
“Not at all. Mind if I move down to Lebanon a lot sooner then I'd planned to?”
“How soon we talking?”
“How’s this weekend sound?”
“Sounds perfect.”
Tag, you're it (Tag list is open btw):
@atc74 @acreativelydifferentlove @babypieandwhiskey @blacktithe7 @because-imma-lady-assface @crispychrissy @cassieraider @charliebradbury1104 @docharleythegeekqueen @feelmyroarrrr @fictionalabyss @girl-next-door-writes @growningupgeek @grace-for-sale @goldenolaf25 @honeybeedestiel @ilostmyshoe-79 @impala-dreamer @idreamofhazel @jayankles @jelly-beans-and-gstrings @juanitadiann @kittenofdoomage @katymacsupernatural @kathaswings @kdfrqqg @luci-in-trenchcoats @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @livelikeawinchester @laurenisnot @mrsbatesmotel53 @mspseudonymwho @mysticpizzacat @mandilion76 @notnaturalanahi @oneshoeshort @percywinchester27 @pinknerdpanda @reigningqueenofwords @rhapsody-in-flannel @supernatural-jackles @saxxxology @sis-tafics @sille1992 @sofreddie @sandlee44 @schizonephilim @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @there-must-be-a-lock @masksandtruths @trexrambling @viviandarkbloom06 @wheresthekillswitch @wildfirewinchester
#amanda goes undercover#sam winchester fanfiction#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester x you#sam winchester smut#sam winchester reader insert#sam x you#sam x reader#supernatural#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural reader insert#SPN#spn fanfiction#spn reader insert#love a challenge me#roxy writes fanfiction#roxy writes smut!!#roxy wrote a lot!#sorry not sorry#this fic has been my life for several weeks#new writing
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As You Wish - Part Four
Tags: @lfsbitencourt, @ridingmoxley, @dollycrybaby (Let me know if you wanna get tagged)
A/N: I hope you like it! Sorry, it took so long, school is just a lot. I used some lyrics from Kesha’s Praying, and the episode is Hearts Still Beating. I didn’t link the rest of the parts, but I will try to tomorrow. I’ve been writing for about 2-3 hours now.
“Lead on.”
“Well, you’ve seen the entire living room, now. How about the kitchen?” you said, glancing up at him. He smiled and walked into the kitchen. He started to open all of the cabinets, and search through every pot and pan he found.
You could feel Carl glaring at your back the entire time. Negan turned around, looked at you with a grin, and you rolled your eyes. You wished you could get away from both of these boys, but knew it wouldn’t be safe for anyone if you did.
“I think we covered that the water works,” you snapped after Negan turned the sink on and off about thirty times. He looked up at you and bit his lip.
“Yes we did,” he said, standing up straight. “So let’s see what else we can cover.” He looked over at Carl, who sighed.
“You, uh, haven’t seen the laundry room.”
“The laundry room? What the fuck do I care about your laundry room? Show me something cool! Show me your room!” Carl nodded and walked towards the stairs. You went first, at Negan’s behest, with him following close behind you.
“What one’s yours, Carl?”
“The one on the right,” he said. You looked back at him, and you exchanged a look that meant you were both worried about Negan finding Judith. Negan motioned for you to open the door, and you did, before walking into the room.
“What?” Carl asked as Negan stood in the hallway.
“This is nice carpeting,” he said with a smile. “Y/N, you mind holding this for me?” You took Lucille from him as he kicked off his shoes and socks.
“You’re kidding,” you said. He smiled at you and walked into Carl’s bedroom, letting the carpet move between his toes.
“This is swanky living,” he said, his voice getting deeper before he laughed. He held his hand out, and you handed the bat back to him. He swung it over his back, before looking through all of Carl’s things. He threw open the closet door and pushed Carl’s things aside.
“You know, nothing is going to be as cool as that hat,” he said with a grin. You sat down on the edge of Carl’s bed, miserably watching Negan. He grinned at you and sat down next to you. “What? Are you not enjoying yourself?”
“No, not really. Why don’t you just give us whatever punishment you see fit, and go?”
“Punishment?” Negan asked, beaming.
“Yeah. Bash in someone else’s head, and we can all go back to normal.”
“Normal,” Carl said, scoffing. Negan looked over at him with a wicked grin, and you put your hand out, to stop him from standing up.
“Ya know, that is one of the first times you have actually touched me? I don’t bite,” he said, leaning in close. You rolled your eyes but didn’t move away. “And, I don’t always punish.”
“Promise?” you asked.
“I don’t make promises.” You stared at him, thinking over any promise he ever made you, and then realized you were looking too long. You looked back at Carl, who looked even more pissed than he did before. “How about a game?”
“What?” Carl asked.
“You might wanna take the edge out of your voice, young man. I am doing everything in my power to make Y/N like me some more, and killing someone today would not be a good way of doing that.”
“Negan.” He looked back at you and held out the bat. You took it from him again and watched as he plucked the darts from Carl’s board.
“Let’s play, kid.” Negan took aim and hit nearly every target. He pulled the darts back out and gave them to Carl. “I’d tell you it’s better to aim with both eyes open, but-”
“Son of a bitch,” you said.
“My apologies, that was a tad insensitive.” He looked back at you, holding his hands together as if to beg for your forgiveness. Carl took aim, and to Negan’s surprise, hit nearly just as many targets as he did.
“Shit, kid.” Carl looked over at you and held out the darts, but you shook your head.
“I’m good.”
“Aw, come on,” Negan said, spinning to look at you. You looked up at him as he smiled. “We’re all playing.”
“I’m not.” You looked at Carl once more and saw how nervous he looked. If playing Negan’s foolish games would help him relax, you would do so. You groaned and sat up, taking the darts from his hands. “Call it.”
“Top left,” Negan said. “Twelve.” You hit your mark. “Two.” And again.
“Bulls-eye,” Carl said. After throwing, you looked back at Negan, who was beaming. He bit his lip and wiggled his body.
“Damn. I forgot how good you are.”
“At darts?” you asked. “I don’t think we ever even played.”
“Just at everything,” he said, standing a little closer to you. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. You picked Lucille up off of the floor and handed it back to Negan.
“Let’s get back to the tour.”
“As you wish.” You led the way out the door, and Negan followed. The doors in the hallway were all closed, and you were grateful for it. Hopefully, you could keep Judith’s door shut.
“What’s in there?” Negan asked, pointing with his bat. You looked back at Carl and shrugged.
“My dad’s room.” Negan beamed.
“We’ll let’s go,” he said, opening the door first and walking in. He laughed and dropped down on the already made bed. “Have you felt this shit, Y/N? This is a good bed. I thought we took all the mattresses.”
“We just found that one,” Carl said.
“And Rick took it for himself?” Negan said, frowning.
“Why should you care? You took literally everybody’s for yourself.” Negan shot you a look and tried to shake off what you said. It seemed that he wanted your approval, and when he didn’t have it, he grew uncomfortable.
“So this is where your dad and Michonne screw?” he asked, laying back down. You rolled your eyes and looked at Carl. His fists were clenched. Negan sat up and looked at you. “Alright. I get that I can be a lot to handle. Let’s wrap this tour up.”
He jumped up and opened the door. You and Carl followed, hoping to take him downstairs. Negan stopped at the third door and you took in a sharp breath.
“What about this one?” he asked.
“Oh it’s just a water heater,” Carl said as casually as possible.
“You serious, kid? Come on.” Negan pushed open the door as you and Carl both tried to make up new excuses to get him away. “Oh ho, my. Look at this little angel.” Judith sat up in her bed and watched Negan as he picked her up. “Just a water heater,” he said with a scoff. He brought Judith close to his face and grinned up at her.
“Don’t-”
“Excuse me?” Negan asked, looking at Carl. “You don’t tell me what to do. I am just trying to get to know your beautiful little sister-”
“Negan,” you said, walking up next to him. Judith was starting to look fussy, so you gave her arm a squeeze and smiled at her.
“And you said there weren’t going to be babies anymore.” You shook your head and looked up at him.
“No. I said I wasn’t ever going to have kids.” Negan sighed and situated Judith in his arms. You were both painfully aware that Carl was just three feet away from you. “Here.” You took Judith and put her in Carl’s arms for the time being.
“Now you’ve seen the whole upstairs,” Carl said. “Are we done?”
“I have not seen the whole upstairs,” he said, smiling at you both. You and Carl exchanged another uncomfortable look and followed Negan back into Rick’s room. He walked past the bed and swung open the door to the bathroom. “Y'all can wait here for this unless Y/N wants to join me in the shower.”
“No.”
“Alright,” he said, smiling as he shut the door. You heard the shower turn on, and looked at Carl.
“What the hell were you thinking? You think he’s just gonna torture us in here, and then leave?”
“Yeah, you seem really tortured.”
“I’m not the one who got us into this mess. Did you really think you were gonna kill him?” Carl shook his head.
“You don’t understand.”
“You’re right. I don’t understand how you were stupid enough to think that even if you did kill him, that any of this would be over.”
“It could all be over for you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, looking at him.
“You could go and live with him. I’ve seen his place. It’s a hell of a lot nicer than here.”
“Now you don’t understand. I love everyone here. I’m not going anywhere.” The shower turned off, and Carl sighed. After a minute, the door swung back open, and Negan stood shirtless in front of you. This time, you sighed.
“Damn. I like this place. Hot water.” He ran the towel through his hair, very aware of the way you were looking at him. “Come into the bathroom, both of you.”
“Why?” Carl asked.
“I’m gonna teach you something. Although Y/N may not like this.”
“Why?” you asked.
“Come on in.” You rolled your eyes and followed Carl in. Negan pulled on his white t-shirt and wet his face. “Now since your dad is such a prick, he’s probably not teaching you how to be a proper man. So I’m gonna show you. Step one is shaving.”
He grabbed a razor and rubbed some soap on his face. You distinctively remember the first time you and Negan discussed how he maintained his beard. Although you did prefer his beard, at this point in your life you didn’t really care.
“Get a good look at it, darling,” he said, before making the first cut. “Against the grain kid, always against the grain.” You, Carl, and Judith sat on the edge of the bathtub, watching Negan shave his face. He didn’t stop smiling, and you were sick of seeing him like this.
“Smiling isn’t gonna help you get every part.” He smirked and looked over at you.
“Why don’t you help me, then.”
“What?” you asked, folding your arms.
“Help me,” he said, handing you the razor. The tone of his voice told you he wasn’t asking. You groaned and took it from his hand. Standing, you had to reach up to shave his face. You shaved across his chin, and he didn’t stop smiling.
“I’m going to cut your face if you don’t stop.”
“Is that a threat?” he asked, tilting his head. You shot him a look and he stopped smiling. “Continue.” You shaved the rest of his face, while Carl stared at you angrily.
“There, you’re done.” Negan turned around and looked at himself in the mirror. He rubbed his hand over his smooth skin and grinned. He chuckled deep in his chest before spinning back to you.
“Thank you, Y/N. This is what I like. Teamwork! Maybe we could all learn a lesson from Y/N’s can-do attitude.” Carl gave you the nastiest look he could muster and you groaned.
“Are we done now?”
“Well,” Negan said, opening the door, “Rick isn’t back yet. So, no.” He started downstairs, and you tried to stop Carl to talk to him, but he ignored you.
“We have to follow him.” Downstairs, Olivia walked in.
“Did you get the lemonade?” Negan asked. She handed him the yellow container and he shook his whole body. “Why don’t you make this, why I make dinner.”
“Dinner?” you asked, walking into the kitchen.
“Yes,” he said with a smile. “Do you wanna help?”
“No,” you said simply. “But I bet I’m gonna have to.”
After dinner, Negan sat on the porch with Carl and Judith and you. He held Judith in his arms and waved neighborly at everyone who walked by. It wasn’t too long out there that Judith got fussy, and Carl took her inside to be with Olivia.
“I do like it here. Maybe I should get a vacation home.” You looked at him and rolled your eyes. “You know, I distinctively remember you doing that less before.”
“Well, time does change things,” you said.
“I’m still the same.” You laughed uncomfortably.
“No, you’re not.”
“What’s changed? Have you taken a good look at me?” He watched you breath through your nose and really didn’t think you’d face him. When you did, though, you were about three inches from his face.
“I have been. And the man I knew is not there anymore.”
“Maybe I’ve just got barbed wire around me like you said.”
“When we were together, you wouldn’t have killed my friends, you wouldn’t have tortured an entire group, and you wouldn’t have offered to screw someone’s brains out.” He cocked an eyebrow at you, not knowing what you were talking about. “Olivia.”
“Oh,” he said, not finding a better way to answer that. “Well, I didn’t do any of that because when we were together, we were together. I didn’t need anything else.”
“So you’re saying if I left with you right now, went with you to the Sanctuary, you’d leave all of my friends alone, leave all of your wives behind, and we’d live happily ever after?” He smiled and looked into your eyes. Although he knew you weren’t serious, he could read that you really did want to know.
“Hell yes.” You snorted and sat back in your chair, looking out on Alexandria.
“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Negan smirked and sat back, thinking about how exactly he could make that happen. When he started creating the Saviors, he made it thinking that he would find you someday and you would lead together. What they had become now didn’t seem to fit you.
“Mind if I interrupt?” Negan snapped his head towards the porch steps and saw a tall man walk up, a bottle of whiskey in his hands.
“Spencer,” you said, looking at him curiously. “What are you doing?”
“I thought I’d just welcome Negan and the Saviors to Alexandria,” he said, lifting the bottle casually. Negan smiled and looked over at you, biting his lip.
“Well, will you look at that. I do not mind if you interrupt. Y/N, will you get us a couple of glasses.” You raised your eyebrow at him incredulously, but his face didn’t falter.
“Jesus,” you said, standing up, and slamming the door as you walked back into Rick’s house. Negan laughed softly and motioned for Spencer to sit down next to him. You were back in a minute and didn’t seem to mind that Spencer had taken your seat, and instead took to leaning up against the porch.
“You know, Y/N, I have a perfectly good place for you to sit,” he said, motioning to his lap. You shook your head and turned your back to him. Spencer poured the drinks as Negan bit his lip.
“That is good,” he said, after taking his first drink. “Running water, air conditioning, housewarming gift, this place is something else,” he said. “Beautiful women, too.” Negan watched you, hoping you would look at him, and when you did, he beamed.
“Cheers to that,” Spencer said, clinking his glass against Negan’s.
“The only thing missing is a pool table,” Negan said, testing the waters. Of course, he knew that there was a pool table here, having seen it the first time that the Saviors came to collect from Alexandria.
“The house across the street has one in the garage.”
“Oh, Spencer, you just might be my new best friend.” Negan heard you mutter ‘oh my god’, before walking off the porch, heading towards the house with the pool table. Spencer laughed.
“Hmm. Seems like you’ve got her well trained.” Negan took a sip again and eyed the man curiously.
“You don’t train women, Spencer. Certainly not Y/N. Let’s get this game set up before you say something that will truly piss me off.” Tongue in cheek, Negan looked at Spencer, who nervously nodded.
A few minutes later, with you supervising, Negan’s men got the pool tabled set up. Handing him the chalk, you looked up at him with a frown.
“You’ll take winner,” he said. He watched as the corners of your mouth upturned and you nodded.
“Fine. Good luck.” Negan smiled, proud that he actually got you to smile, even just a little, without a trace of sarcasm.
“I could never do this with Rick,” Negan said. “He’d just be standing there, scowling, giving me that annoying side-eye of his.”
“That’s actually what I came to see you about,” Spencer said, as the members of Alexandria started to gather around. “I want to talk to you about Rick.” Negan smiled and looked over at you. You had your arms crossed and met his gaze. You shook your head softly as he turned back to the game.
“Alright, talk to me, Spencer. Talk to me about Rick.”
“I get what you’re trying to do here, what you’re trying to build. I’m not saying I agree with your methods, but I get it.” Negan took aim and knocked one of the balls in as he listened to Spencer’s bullshit. “You’re building a network, make people contribute for the great good. Makes sense.
“But you should know, that Rick has a history of not working well with others.”
“Shut up, Spencer,” you muttered, as Negan walked across the table. He looked up at you, his eyes sparkling.
“Let him finish, doll.” He missed his next shot, and let Spencer move across the table before replying. “Is that so?”
“Rick wasn’t the original leader here. My mom was. She was doing a really good job of it. She died, not long after Rick showed up. Same with my brother, same with my dad.” You scoffed, and Negan turned to you.
“What?”
“They didn’t die because of Rick. Rick saved this place.”
“But he couldn’t save everyone,” Spencer said, looking at you. “He didn’t save Aiden.” Negan looked at Spencer and you and could read that there was more behind the name than what was said.
“Who was Aiden?” Negan asked. You glanced over at him nervously, something you hadn’t done all day. Each time you had looked at him before, it was nervous that he might do something, not nervous about something you had done.
“His brother.”
“Her boyfriend,” Spencer said. You inhaled and turned away from Negan. He didn’t push you further and instead turned his attention back to Spencer.
“So things were just peachy, for what, years? And then Rick shows up, and suddenly you’re an orphan. That is the saddest story I’ve ever heard. Good thing for you, he’s not in charge anymore.”
“It doesn’t matter. His ego’s out of control. He’ll find a way to screw things up, try and do things his way to take over. That’s what he did with my mom, that’s what he’ll do again.” Negan nodded, and looked at the board, taking in everything that Spencer just threw up.
“What exactly are you proposing be done about that?” he asked, looking up at him with a confident grin.
“I am my mother’s son. I can be the leader she was. That’s what this place needs, that’s what you need.” Negan didn’t tell Spencer that he didn’t need to tell him what he needs, because the list starts and ends with you, and instead played along with Spencer’s stupid wishes.
“So I should put you in charge. That’s what you’re saying.”
“We’d be much better off.” Negan took another drink, eyeing you quickly to see if your face matched the distaste he was feeling for Spencer.
“What do you think?” he asked, looking at you. You didn’t answer but gave him a disgusted look that meant you couldn’t even believe he was asking.
“You know what I’m thinking? I’m thinking about how Rick threatened to kill me, how he clearly hates my guts, but he is out there right now, gathering shit for me to make sure that I don’t hurt any of the fine people who live here. He is swallowing his hate, and getting shit done. That takes guts.” He reached across the table, and took another shot, sinking the ball.
“Then there’s you, the guy who waited for Rick to be gone, so he could sneak over and talk to me, get me to do his dirty work, so he could take Rick’s place. So I gotta ask, if you wanna take over, why not just kill Rick yourself and just take over?”
“What- no- I didn’t-”
“I didn’t let Y/N interrupt you, so please don’t interrupt me. You know what I’m thinking, cause I have a guess.” Negan leaned in close and whispered ever so slightly. “It’s because you’ve got no guts.”
In a blink of an eye, Negan stuck his knife into Spencer’s chest. He heard the gasps from the crowd, but what he focused on was the tiny ‘no’ you uttered. In another swift motion, Negan sliced Spencer open, and his insides began to spill out.
“How embarrassing,” he said, as Spencer fell to the ground, his innards in his hands. “There they are. They were inside you the whole time. You did have guts! I’ve never been so wrong in my whole life!” he yelled, turning to the group with a smile that showed it didn’t faze him at all.
You couldn’t speak, and couldn’t move. You watched as Negan, with blood now staining his shirt and face, spun to face the crowd, proud of what he just did. He put the knife back in his pocket and walked over to get Lucille. If he tried to make eye contact with you, you didn’t notice, because all you could do was stare at Spencer.
“Someone get up here and clean this mess up.” Even though you didn’t care for Spencer much, you felt tears forming in your eyes. You shook your head and a small sound came out. “Oh, don’t cry too much, darling, this wasn’t the one you were fucking anyways.” Your jaw fell open, and you pulled your face away from his gaze.
The next time you looked up, was to the sound of a gunshot. You snapped your head up and saw Rosita on the ground, and Negan bent over.
“Shit! What the shit! You just tried to kill me!?” Negan paced quickly in front of Rosita, as she was pinned down on the ground. You wanted to step in, but your feet wouldn’t move, and you didn’t know if there was anything you could do at this point to make sure he’d stop.
“What is this?” he asked, picking up the bullet shell off the ground. “This little bad boy made from scratch?” You remembered a conversation you had with Eugene and Abraham about making your own bullets for Alexandria and the Hilltop and knew exactly where Rosita got it from. “This was homemade. You may be stupid, darling, but you showed some real ingenuity here. Arat, hold that knife up, up on that girl’s face.”
“Stop,” you said, walking closer to him. “Negan, you don’t have to do this.” He looked at you briefly but ignored you.
“Lucille’s beautiful smooth surface is never gonna look the same, so why should yours?! Unless, unless you tell me who made this.”
“It was me, I made it,” she lied.
“You see, now I just think you’re lying,” he said, pointing Lucille her way. “And you lying to me now,” he yelled, making you flinch. “Is such a shame, Arat’s gonna have to cut up that pretty face. One more try.”
“It was me,” Rosita said, leaning up so the knife cut her face bravely.
“Oh, you are such a badass!” He stopped smiling for a minute and looked back at you briefly. His eyes softened as if he was trying to tell you he was sorry for something. “Have it your way,” he said, looking back at Rosita. “Arat, kill somebody.”
“No, it was me!” Rosita screamed. But too late, Arat raised her gun and shot Olivia in the head.
“No!” you yelled, trying to run towards her. Negan stopped you, wrapping his arm around your waist, making you look at where Rosita lay. No matter how hard you tried to fight, he wouldn’t loosen his grip on you.
“Rick!” Negan rasped, as the other man walked up. With that distraction, you pushed yourself from Negan’s arms, who didn’t fight too much. “Look, everybody, it’s Rick! Your people are making me lose my voice doing all this yelling.
“Rick, how about a thank you? I mean, look, I know we started this relationship with me beating the holy shit out of your friends, and because of that we’re never gonna sit around and braid each other’s hair, or share our deepest, darkest, secrets, but how about a little credit? I just bent over backward to show you how reasonable I am.
“Your kid? He hid in one of my trucks and machined gun a bunch of my men down, and I brought him home, safe and sound. And, I fed him spaghetti. Another one of your people, well he wanted me to kill you and put him in charge. I took him out for you. Another one, here,” he said, pointing to Rosita. “She shot Lucille, trying to kill me just now. So I gave you one less mouth to feed, and by looking at her, that mouth did some major damage.”
“You’re a piece of shit,” you muttered, the tears not stopping their stream down your face. He turned to you with a smile, for the first time in your life, pointing Lucille your way.
“We’ll get to that later.” He turned back to Rick. “Now, personally, I wouldn’t have picked her to be the one to go, but Arat- pssh, I don’t know, didn’t trust her.” Rick stared at him, and took a cautious step forward like he was trying to hold himself back.
“Your shit is waiting at the front. Just take it, and go.” Negan backed up.
“Sure thing, Rick. Right after I find the guy or gal who made this bullet. Arat.” The woman turned her gun again, and Tara shouted, taking claim for the bullet. You dropped your head in your hand, as Eugene finally spoke up.
“No it wasn’t,” he said, as he cried into his hands. “It was me, it was only me.”
“You?” Negan asked, walking closer to get a better look at the man. He began to explain how he made the bullet, but Negan cut him off. “Shut up. I believe you.” Negan grimaced, and walked away from Eugene, carefully bringing Lucille up. “Lucille, give me strength!”
After a pause, Negan informed Rick that he would be taking Eugene and that whatever he managed to get, it would not be enough to fill in the hole that today caused. Rosita screamed some more as Negan’s men took Eugene away, begging them to take her instead.
“Rick, I ain’t gonna lie, your kitchen is a god damn mess.” He giggled and swung Lucille over his shoulder. “Well, I’ll see you next time. Y/N,” he said, turning towards you, “Walk with me?”
“What?” you asked, falling into step with him.
“I hope this little incident didn’t shatter what fraction of my image I tried to build up for you today.” You laughed cynically and looked at him.
“You didn’t rebuild anything for me. In fact, you destroyed what little respect and love I had for you.”
“Love?” he asked, tilting his head.
“Just go,” you said, stopping. “I don’t care anymore. I can make it on my own, and I don’t need you.”
“Y/N-”
“No!” you said, shaking your head, and backing away from him. “What did Olivia do to you? Spencer was an asshole, but he didn’t deserve that!”
“What?” he asked, leaning back. “So you were sleeping with him, too?” You slapped him so quickly, you didn’t even think about it.
“Where the hell do you get off, thinking you can tell me anything? I can sleep with whoever I want, and you wanna know why? Because you left me! You got us in that shit! You’re the reason the motel blew up!”
“Oh, it’s my fault that he followed us?” he yelled, stepping closer to you. “Because if I remember correctly, he was there for you.” You shook your head, your face strained, and venom pumping through your veins.
“Go. Please.” You started to walk away and were a few feet away from him when he finally spoke again.
“I meant what I said earlier. I could give it all up.” You turned back to him, tears forming in your eyes again.
“No, you couldn’t.”
“We could get past all of this.”
“There are some things only God can forgive.”
#i'm sorry this took so long#but it's almost 5k so#as you wish#negan#negan imagine#negan x reader#negan fanfic#negan fanfiction#twd#twd imagine#twd fanfic#twd fanfiction#the walking dead#the walking dead imagine#the walking dead fanfiction#the walking dead fanfic
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