Slapmewithacroc - Inlovewithmanymen

Dirty cop

Summary: You're a deviant, and conner gets aggressive interrogating you. You shouldn't be turned on by this, but you are. He's so intimidating. Sexual tension rises once he realizes you're aroused by this. As a final interrogation tactic, he gets you two somewhere more... private.

Content: aggressive conner, small spaces, choking (kind of), degrading kink, mentions of murder, reader explains their crimes while getting fucked, I'm bad at pacing so just read slowly

Holy fuck

Holy fuck

I'm in a lot of trouble

I stand uncomfortably in the room I was instructed to wait in. I could run. I should run but I don't want to risk it, guards and guns everywhere. I don't want to risk that yet.

Suddenly the door clicked open. "Thank you, officer " I heard a husky voice say before entering. Another android, it looked like he worked for the police, strange. He was fairly tall, six feet even, brown clean cut hair, nice jaw, freckles peppered across the face, doe brown eyes. He seemed to be fairly kind looking on exception for his expression. Stiff and neutral, not the most welcoming.

"Android number 618 725 210-43 you are under investigation for the murder of Daniel Lane." I swallowed hard. I knew what I did was wrong, but something inside of me snapped. I was doing my regular deliveries when I saw that man mug a poor woman. I just couldn't let him do that. I didn't mean to kill him. It was an accident.

He slowly walked in front of me, he was uncomfortably close, I could practically feel him breathing on me. His stare was burning into my face. "Do you have no mercy, Deviant? Do you not realize what you've done?"

Holy shit.

He's really leaning into me now. God, he's close. I can't help but feel a blush on my cheeks. "What? Not gonna say anything? Hm? " Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm. Don't say anything. Maybe he'll think im not a Deviant.

He doesn't back away. Not even blinking. He's just burning a hole into me. "Say something. I know what you are. I know what you did." His voice rumbled into my ear, he was sturn and terrifying. Suddenly I felt hot. My ears were burning.

No way. I can't. I can't get aroused by this. I can't. not right now... oh my God, this is hot.

Suddenly, I was pushed against the wall. The force in his strength was no laughing matter, I was I'm deep shit. But God, somehow, it made me more aroused.

Hurt me

"Do you know what they'll do to you when you're convicted? They'll tear you apart! You're begging to be torn apart, aren't you?" I tried to control my breath, tried to calm down, but it wasn't working. My nerves were high and won't go down. Fear was muddied with lust, leaving me helpless.

Helpless

He slammed me against the wall again, this time holding me by the throat. We both knew we didn't breathe. Not really. Sure, androids have faux lungs, but really, it's just to give the illusion of breath to humans, make them look more life like. Not that he cared. It was the intimidation tactic that he wanted. The fact was I could barely move with him holding me like this. I tried to struggle around his grasp but it only made him grip harder. My heart rate escolated. "Arn't you??" He repeated, more aggressive, yelling now. My knees buckled. Holy shit no I shouldn't be aroused by this.

He leaned closer, his breath was rough against my faux skin. His eyes dug into mine for a moment, and they shifted. Analyzing. Then his brows twitched. And realization sunk in. His expression was something in-between smug and disgust. "You're aroused by this Arn't you?" He questioned, his voice the same mood as his face.

My heart dropped when he said it. He was so loud too, surely anyone in the next two rooms could hear it. Shame, fear, lust all bubbled up inside me. Everything he did further drove my lust, and it was making me crazy.

He had no response to my silence. It seemed he was still processing. Assessing his next move.

Shit.

After a moment, he squinted at me. Then, I grabbed a fist full of my shirt by the collar, dragging me with him. He pushed open the door of the interrogation office and dragged me with him.

"Connor, where the fuck are you going?" A call from an older man immigrated from behind us. "They clearly don't want to talk with an audience. I'll try to see what I can get out of them when we're alone." He stated flatly.

Before I knew it I was thrown past a whirl wind of doors and next thing I know I'm somewhere isolated. A cramped and dim room. My breath was heavy and out of control, my heart thumping against my plastic shell. What is happening??

"Clearly, traditional intimidation doesn't work on you." He droned, creeping closer to me.

Oh my God. Is this happening?

"So let's see what will get you to speak." He pulled his tie loose, draping around his shoulders. His slow movement never faltered from getting closer to me. I was instinctively backing away, but I wanted this. I knew whatever this was, it was going to get me in trouble, but I may as well die like a champ.

His jacket and shirt were un buttoned. He didn't bother to take them off. It seemed he knew the conservation was a tease, further causing me yern for him. My butt hit something hard. I quickly turned my head to see it was a countertop of sorts. It was cool against my fingertips. Just as my gaze focused in front of me again, he was pressed against me. The fabric of his clothes rubbing against mine. His hips rolling roughly against my core. I pressed my lips together, suppressing a moan. Holy shit this was really happening!

One of his hands gripped my neck again, pressing my head against the cold wall behind me. His eyes stared unbreakingly into mine as he continued to grind. I could feel myself getting hot, my heart beat growing quicker. Fuck. Whatever he was doing was working, and it made it hard to focus.

The pressure suddenly alleviated from my Groin when I suddenly heard a zip and the sound of more fabric shifting. Suddenly, his hands were on my pants, he roughly unzipped them and pulled them down. "Is this what you wanted?" his tone was more impatient than lustful, not to say lust wasn't there. "Answer me." He firmly stated. I let out a wine, trying to press myself against him, but he swiftly gripped my hips to render further movement, causing me to let out a more desperate wine. "Y-yes." I whispered desperately. "Then tell me what happened."

I tried to push myself against him, but it was no use. He was too strong. "I-i was delivering. I was assigned an address to drop off a pizza." His stare continued, urging me to continue. "I... I was on route until I heard screaming. I... I looked around, trying to assess any danger when I saw a man mugging someone. A woman. She was crying. " I looked desperately at him. Give me something. Please. He didn't budge. "T-then something inside of me changed. I knew I had to help her. I couldn't just let it happen."

Suddenly, something pushed inside of me, causing me to gasp. His hips slowly pressed against mine, streching me out. He was big. Dear Lord, he was big. It was overwhelming, and I was beginning to lose track.

"Good. Now tell me what happened." He rumbled. I began to clinch around him, trying to adjust. The led on the side of his head began to wildly flash yellow, his jaw clinching, eyes fluttering for a moment. Only a moment. But I caught my attention. "Something in me b-broke. I broke from my programming, I guess. Next thing I know, I dropped the pizza box, and I'm sprinting at the man." I swallowed hard, trying to keep my thoughts in one place. "I had to protect her. I attacked him." Keep cool. Keep cool.

"How exactly did you attack him?" His hips teasingly rolling against my core before stopping. I couldn't help but let out a soft moan. His led flased yellow for a split second. "I... I started by throwing him off balance... then I threw a punch. He fell back but managed to catch himself, and he sprinted at me... He was able to get a few good hits in."

A movement began to happen between my thighs. His dick was slowly pumping inside of me. Not by the movement of his hips, no, not like a person. It was robotic. It was the base of his shaft. "Keep going." He demanded firmly. I gripped the countertop, suppressing whimpers as I tried to keep my train of thought, but it was getting harder and harder to keep grasp on it. "I-i ended up using... his weapon as my own. Not to kill him. I just needed to... to weaken him." A whimper slipped from my lips but I continued "eventually I tried to shove him away again, much harder than before. I tried to tell the lady to run but she seemed to badly injured to do so. Next think I know he... he's dead. He must have hit his head. I didn't mean to kill him swear. I- I swear I just wanted to help someone."

Conner trusted much faster now. As well as taking his hand that was on my hips and using it to press against my clit. His fingers began to vibrate. I couldn't contain my moans anymore. It's mutch. "Then you fled with the woman to the hospital and hid. Why did you hide?" He grew aggressive again. His hand tightened around my throat. "I felt guilty. I panicked. I had to mutch to explain to the nurses. No matter what I said, I felt I couldn't do it right. I ran because I was scared."

Fuck his whole body waight was pressed against mine. I melted into him. He could do whatever he wanted with me at that moment, and I would have been fine with it. I just had a need for him. I was desperate. "See what happens when you cooperate well?" He teased half coldly. Leaning in to place a sloppy kiss on my shoulder, and that was my breaking point. Everything in my system ran into overdrive as I reached a climax. Visual systems flashing in and out of function He seemed to let out a few pants and moans, too, which let me plumet deeper into pleasure. He began to rhutt against me desperately, his whining growing more frequent. My heavy lids slid open, trying to observe him. His led flash changing from yellow to red temporarily before going back to yellow.

I don't know how much time had passed. But it seemed he was collecting himself. It took a few minutes for his led to return to blue. For my systems to return to normal. But once we were all collected, he quickly redressed himself, combing out his hair. I tried to as well. I wasn't sure what else to do. "That's what it took for you to tell the truth?" He finally stated, coldly. My heart dropped. I wasn't sure what I expected but I wasn't that.

I didn't even know how to respond. I softly shook my head "I suppose so." I whispers back, defeated. "Is that what it took for you to complete the mission?" I quipped back. I felt awkward as hell, but it was the first thing that came to mind. He stiffened for a moment, clinched his jaw and then continued to fix his tie "it seems we're both desperate party's."

There was a heavy awkwardness in the air before he finally grabbed my wrist and dragged me out of the room, walking me back to the interrogation room. "It seems you enjoyed it too." I offered. Not sure why, but I couldn't stop thinking it. He stopped suddenly, looking at me. "I enjoyed nothing. I simply did what I needed to complete my assignment." "We both know that is a lie. I heard the sounds you made. I saw your led." Something in his expression shifted for a moment, calculating. "What matters is that you confessed. We're done here." He demanded sternly. I need to get out of here. Before they destroy me. "Connor." I squeezed out. "What?" He asked, irritated. "How many miles from here to the movie theater?" It was a dumb question, I know but that's what I needed. I needed to throw him off. Plus, the theater was close to the busses. If I can get on the busses, I can escape this. "What?" His stern and flat expression quickly became confused. I repeated the question "one and a half miles -" I ripped my wrist from his hand and ran.

To be honest I knew he can catch me. He's more agile than I am but I had a shot and that's what mattered. I sprinted down the hall twords the glass doors, throwing them open. And darting into the snow "HANK" I heard conner call behind me. Fuck.

I must have blacked out, but somehow, I made it to the bus on time. Just barely avoiding them.

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

Hank and connor stood in the snow. "Shit!" Hank cried, kicking a pile of snow. "I'm sorry Hank, I wasn't fast enough. " Hank took a moment to catch his breath, looking around agrivatedly and finally turned to conner "what the fuck were you doing mingling with the Deviant?" "What?" "Don't play dumb, Connor, Jesus christ!"

Pt.2

Kaz Brekker and Mutual Ma$terba$tion.

Be My Hands: Kaz Brekker x Reader *#~

18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!

If you’re tagged it’s simply because I copied the tag list for Kaz.

Obviously I can’t control your actions but if you’re not 18+ do not interact with this post or Tumblr can get me in trouble!

(If you’d like to not be tagged in future smutty/spicy Kaz fics, please let me know!)

Description: 3.6k wc, smut/spicy fic with Kaz. Cannon Kaz, still has a touch aversion but finds himself and his girlfriend needing release so they compromise by verbally guiding the other while they be each other’s hands. (Kaz style aftercare featured)

Warnings: sexual content, mentions of touch aversions (anxiety & related notes), 18+ Only, cursing

Minors DNI, 18+ Only below the break; sexual content present

Kaz crumpled yet another piece of paper and tossed it to the side, still unable to collect his thoughts.

The heist went sideways hours ago and he hadn’t been able to figure out why or how he should’ve been able to prevent it.

It had never taken him this long before, he was usually done within a few minutes and spent the rest of the night sulking.

Meaning it really shouldn’t take him long tonight since it was only a minor deviation and not much of a set back.

He should’ve been able to figure this out hours ago.

However, y/n had never not been in his office after a night like this.

Kaz sensed things were tense between them lately but since he didn’t know why he elected to let it blow over.

As he sat alone in his messy office tonight, he regretted that decision.

Clearly that was another plan he made that failed.

Begrudgingly he rose from his desk, bracing himself on his cane as he walked to the door.

If she wasn’t coming to him, he’d go to her.

Kaz lingered outside her door as his mind raced to find the best way to greet her.

She was already mad, but he didn’t know why and therefore which side of him would be most helpful here.

If he let Kaz Rietveld greet her and she’d been mad about one of his triggers or weaknesses that would make it worse.

Not that y/n ever got upset let alone mad over that, but Kaz anxiously awaited the day he felt was inevitable.

If he let Dirtyhands Brekker greet her and she was mad he’d been too distant or mundane it would surely piss her off more.

He sighed, annoyed at himself for even allowing himself to get so attached to her that he cared about these things.

Kaz tapped his cane against her door twice and awaited a response.

He heard some shuffling around before y/n opened the door for him.

Her hair was a bit disheveled from seemingly running her hands through it, but it was clear she’d tried to fix it before opening the door.

“Love,” he greeted briefly, the versions of himself compromising.

She smiled nervously at him which made him sigh.

“May I?” He asked, tipping the crow’s head end of his cane in the direction of her bedroom chambers.

A room in which she rarely ever was, having usually been sleeping in his room while he worked.

Kaz watched her throat tighten as she swallowed before nodding.

He took inventory of her room, the way he would any room he’d stepped into where he felt unsure of his surroundings.

He’d been in here before but tonight he was unsure where he stood with her and hoped the room would provide him some clues.

Y/n’s bedding was wrinkled and the poorly made bed was evidence she’d futilely tried tucking the sheets back into place before letting him in.

Kaz tightened his grip on the crow’s head, despising himself for whatever he did that prompted her to chose to sleep here instead.

Sure it was her room, but he couldn’t recall the last time she’d actually slept in it.

“Kaz…” she mumbled, standing a solid distance away, “you look like you have something on your mind”.

Kaz pressed his lips into a tight line as he turned to face her, but was unable to look into her eyes and ask his question, “are you mad at me?”.

Her silence caused him to turn his gaze upwards from the floor and to her face.

He watched the shocked look on her face turn to confusion before she shook her head, “No Kaz. I’m not mad at you”.

“Y/n, do not lie to me” he grumbled.

“I’m not” she sighed.

He stared at her and took a step closer to her, noticing how her body tensed when he did, “you’ve been distancing yourself from me. Yet, you claim you are not mad?”

Y/n quickly looked to the far wall as if one of her pinned up photos was suddenly more interesting than this conversation.

Yet, in a whispered voice she still spoke, “I’m not mad, Kaz”.

Kaz squinted, taking a step back to create more distance for her, “are you afraid of me then?”

She snapped her head towards him, a concoction of confusion, shock, anger, and guilt storming her face, “of course not!”

“Then tell me” he ordered, closing his eyes for half a second to compose himself, “if you’re not suddenly scared of me, tell me why you are distancing from me if you’re not mad”.

“I…I’m… not mad… I umm.. I’m..” she mumbled, biting her lip.

Kaz gave her a concerned look and took a cautious step towards her again, continuing when she didn’t look away.

“You’re not mad, but you are… what?” He asked calmly, a foot from her now.

“Frustrated” she whispered.

“What?” He repeated, not sure he heard her correctly.

“Frustrated!” She blurts loudly, looking away and pulling in her hair, “I’m frustrated, Kaz”.

“Frustrated is synonymous to mad, love” Kaz sighed harshly.

“Not that way” she said, shifting her gaze around rapidly.

“I don’t und-“ he stopped, realization hitting him.

He’d read the signs wrong.

Her hair wasn’t a mess due to running her hands through it out of anger.

His eyes shifted to her bed.

The bedsheets weren’t wrinkled and a mess because she’d been sleeping in them.

“Were you just touching yourself?” Kaz asked, the tension in the room thickening.

He noticed she refused to look at him, so he gently tapped her toe with the bottom of his cane.

She still didn’t look at him but nodded minimally.

Kaz felt his face heat up and an uncomfortable feeling form in his body at her confession.

Well, it wasn’t the feeling that was uncomfortable, it was the knowledge he couldn’t act on it.

The knowledge that he’d found himself needing sexual relief on numerous occasions with relation to her and not being able to act on it due to his touch aversion.

He hated that he put her in that same position and also that he couldn’t offer either of them the release they both needed and desired.

The biggest irritation he had with his aversion was that his body still held the capacity for desire and sexual attraction but he couldn’t act on it.

He hated that he wanted more than anything to be able to take her here and now but the thought also made him nauseous.

“Show me” Kaz said faintly, his brain body desperate for a compromise.

“What?” She squeaked, her eyes finally landing on his dark and fully dilated pupils.

“Show me what you like” he repeated, taking a slow step towards her bed.

“Kaz, what?” She asked breathlessly as her eyes widened.

He looked at the ground in guilt, “I cannot give you what you want”.

Y/n began to interrupt but he held his gloved hand up to signal her to stop.

“But, I’d like to see what it is you want” He said, his voice shaking.

He wasn’t sure he could handle this.

Sure she’d be touching herself, not him touching her.

But, he felt he might combust watching her get herself off by doing things to herself he could only dream of doing to her one day.

“Kaz. We don’t have to do this” She offered kindly, sensing his nervousness.

“I want to. I want to watch. Touch yourself for me. Be my hands” Kaz declared, his pants already feeling tighter as he admitted this desire.

Y/n took a shaky breath but nodded and made her way to the bed, unceremoniously crawling onto it.

She wasn’t opposed to it, but she knew intimacy was intense for Kaz and she didn’t want to push.

Y/n bit her lip as Kaz moved to stand beside her bed, as close as he’d allow himself to be.

“Kaz, I know this is really vulnerable for you, so we can take this as slow as you need and stop whenever. You’re in control here, okay?” She promised, staring into his eyes.

Kaz’s eyes softened for a moment -as he offered her a small smile and nodded-, before they shifted back to their dark state with a recently displayed lust tinting them.

He’d seen her naked before, having changed in front of him countless times at this stage in their relationship, but this was different; for both of them.

She felt her heart quicken, her hands trembling with nerves as she shyly started to lower her pants once again.

“Love, don’t be nervous, if you need, I’ll guide you through it. Just be my hands” Kaz heard himself state, surprising them both.

Y/n took a deep breath of air and nodded rapidly.

Kaz smirked, his eyes closing lustfully as he let them both catch their breath before beginning.

When he opened them, his pupils dilated again seeing she’d stripped out of her pants and panties, her lower half now fully exposed to him.

“Fuck” he breathed out, letting a rare curse slip.

She blushed but kept her eyes on his with a small smile on her lips.

“Shirt” he said, clarifying when his request was met with confusion, “your top too”.

Y/n smirked at him as she slowly removed her shirt to display her bare breasts before him, practically making him hard right away.

He swallowed thickly, adjusting his stance awkwardly, “you are perfect”.

Kaz learned long ago she loved him complimenting her and while he’d let that vulnerable side of him out more often since that discovery, this was new.

He’d reassured her how beautiful she was the first time he’d seen her naked body, needing to help her patch up a cut on her rib and thigh after a heist.

But this, this time, she was laying here before him, not because she was hurt or getting ready for bed.

Instead, she was all but presenting herself to him; a vulnerable and important moment for them both.

Kaz stared into her eyes, making sure she was comfortable with what they were about to do.

When he felt confident she was, he shut his eyes and softly said, “show me what you were doing”.

She nodded, looking down at her waist, her hand moving towards her center.

Y/n gazed off into space as she slowly ran her pointer finger down her pubic mound towards her lips.

Kaz eyes fixed on her finger, wanting so badly for it to be his own touching her that way.

He took a shaky breath at the thought of his son on her’s making her immediately stop and stare at him with concern.

He shook his head to calm her worries, “Don’t stop. Just, talk to me during it”.

She nodded, remembering how he’d cling to the sound of her voice when anxious.

“So,” she said with a breathy shyness, “ when I find myself needing a release, I start with this”.

Kaz focused on her voice and explanation while his eyes studied her demonstration and instructions with such intensity it was as if her pleasure were a heist he must successfully complete.

After a few minutes Kaz had become more comfortable and realized the bulge in his pants was already a step ahead of him.

He blindly reached for her desk chair, knowing he should sit.

But he couldn’t find it without looking away from her, and he wasn’t able to do that.

Kaz stared as her thighs clenched together, firmly trapping her hand between them.

"Spread your legs. I want to see how turned on I make you” he said, looking from her seized legs to her dazed eyes.

Her lips parted slightly as she complied, her hand now being the only thing blocking his view of her full anatomy.

“More” he said, his deep voice betraying his pleading, as did his gloved hand faintly placed on her closest knee.

“I love hearing you moan” Kaz blurted, pressing his hand firmly against his throbbing shaft through his pants.

She looks at him through hooded eyes, the fingers on her left hand still inserted into herself.

“Curl your finger” Kaz advised, an idea forming in his mind.

Y/n smirked lazily at his newly formed scheming face as she followed his suggestion.

“No, no, your ring finger” he corrected, his piercing eyes that were frozen on her swollen and flushed bare skin around her vulva, unsatisfied with the choice she made.

“Oh saints!” She cried out, her head slamming back into her bed aggressively.

Kaz felt his dick twitch as he proudly relished in her loud moans and watched her hips lift off the bedsheets.

“Mmm, that’s it, good girl” Kaz said, his voice dark.

Y/N’s eyes flitted closed as she twirled her hooked finger around inside of her walls, trying to not be so loud as she didn’t want to risk the others hearing.

“Mmm, come on darling” he whined, “let me hear you.” 

She stirred slightly before pushing her fingers in deeper, moaning pleasurably as her vaginal opening stretched even more.

“That’s it” he grinned, his sight clouding a bit as he unconsciously began stroking his length through his dress pants, “I want to hear you say my name”.

Y/n needed a moment, so she slowly pulled her now soaking wet fingers from her vagina and rested her hand on her stomach, smirking at him.

“You what?” She teased, pretending she couldn’t hear his request.

His vision cleared as he lightly glared at her, “you heard me”.

She hummed, dancing her fingers tauntingly over her exposed skin from her neck down to her hips, “I don’t know that I did… Kaz”.

Kaz’s head snapped to the side quickly, his hand reaching out and pulling the desk chair to him.

He sat down just as his knees threatened to buckle from the tension between his legs and the sight of y/n sprawled teasingly before him.

Kaz knew he wasn’t going to win this, especially in his current state, so he repeated himself, “I need to hear you say my name”.

She smirked at him, “Kaz”.

He threw his head back in frustration with so much force he was surprised the chair didn’t break under him, “you know what I mean”.

Y/n loved seeing him like this, over her.

So she decided to drag it out a bit more, smiling innocently as she asked, “no, can you elaborate what it is you need me to do, Kaz?”.

Kaz clenched his jaw, returning his head to its normal position and watching the devilish glimmer in her eyes, “don’t push it, you’re the one who needed this. I can leave any moment”.

Y/n saw through his bluff, tilting her head sideways as she pushed her self up until her arms were supporting her back and half raised position.

“Kaz, honey, you can pretend all you want” she winks, bringing her still wet fingers up to her face and tracing the outline of her lips, “but I can see the mess you're making of yourself”.

He froze in confusion, following her gaze as she stared at his lap.

Kaz felt his cheeks double in temperature as he saw he’d practically ruined his dress pants.

The material now wet and clinging to him.

He closed his eyes and sighed.

“It’s okay Kaz, but I don’t think you’re quite done” she whispered sweetly, “why don’t I help you?”

Kaz stared up at her, his eyes soft but jaw tense, “I-… I can’t… yet.. I-“.

She shook her head, “I’m not going to touch you honey, I promise”.

He nodded appreciatively.

“You wanted me to moan your name?” She asked delicately.

He forced a weak glare making her laugh softly, “I can do that. But first, remove your pants”.

Kaz hesitated for a moment before standing enough to lower them to the floor.

“Now your underwear, the poor things are very clearly in both of our ways” she added, Kaz sighing tranquilly as he pushed the hem of his underwear towards the ground and let his penis fly upwards when it was free.

“Now, cup one hand around yourself, from underneath” y/n said, her gaze never leaving his erection.

Kaz obeyed, shivering as his cold leather glove wrapped around his length.

Y/n moaned lightly, Kaz’s eyes jumping to watch as her fingers walked down her bare body to her clit.

“With the other, rub the tip” she whispered seductively.

Kaz didn’t hesitate to do so and mirrored her moans with his own as he did.

“Look at me” Kaz rasped as her gaze has shifted to her waist.

“Oh, fu-“ y/n sighed, the knot in her stomach growing.

Kaz clenched his jaw more tightly as he continued masterbating as she had requested, but secretly trying not to climax yet.

He was fairly certain the leather in his gloves was going to cause his shaft to be raw by the end of the night but he couldn’t care less.

“Cum for me” he ordered sharply, not sure how much longer he could resist his release.

Y/n sensed his predicament and puckered her lips to blow him a kiss, “just let go Kaz”.

Kaz shook his head, but as she resumed circling her clit he found his resistance weaning.

“More pressure” he advised her, having made mental note of what seemed to work best for her earlier in the night.

“Ka-Kaz,” she moaned, her eye lids fluttering as she pushed her thumb harder against her clitoris.

At that, Kaz’s self preservation disintegrated in an instant.

“Oh” he moaned, his voice breathy, “fuck”.

He threw his head back, his neck bending as the back of his head rested between his shoulder blades.

“Don’t stop doing what I taught you. You’re being my hands, remember? Keep moving” She ordered, a smirk painting her tone.

“Y-y/n” Kaz shakingly mumbled, his eyes glazed over, “fuck, you’re… fuck”.

Kaz was certain it was the least intelligible thing he’d ever spoken but the bliss he felt kept him from caring.

He wiped the white cream from himself and the bedspread next to her, too relaxed to be embarrassed over the mess he made and how vulnerable he was.

“Shit, Kaz” she groaned, her lips curling at the ends as she watched him.

“Cum for me” he repeated his earlier request.

Y/n chuckled softly, tiredly bringing her hand back down to her wet lips.

“Kaz” she moaned softly, her eyes glimmering as she held eye contact with him.

Kaz smiled faintly, lifting his cane.

He delicately tapped the side of the crow’s beak to y/n’s swollen clitoris twice before lowering his cane back to the floor.

She shivered at the cold sensation before her eyes darkened as she looked back over at him.

He nodded with a smirk on his lips, “keep your eyes open and on me”.

Y/n silently obeyed, her fingers picking up their pace.

Kaz’s smirk grew as he watched her desire increase.

He intentionally ran a hand through his hair, having been clued in that it was a turn on for her.

She grinned and shook her head weakly, letting him know she knew what he was doing.

Triggering another turn on, Kaz held eye contact with her as he smirked more before licking his lip, “so unfathomably irresistible”.

Kaz lips shifted into a cocky grin as she loudly whimpered his name, her back arching towards the ceiling and legs trembling.

“That’s it darling, just keep being my hands” he encouraged, watching as she softly stroked herself as she rode out her orgasm.

“While I must point out that we could have started this much earlier had you not hid, I do prefer the location” Kaz stated, handing her a towel from her dresser.

“Oh?” She asked, her voice still faint from her climax.

“It means I don’t need to clean my sheets” he smirked teasingly.

She scoffed, feigning offense.

“Hmm, well, I suppose we’ll see if the door will be unlocked next time or not” she teased, delicately cleaning herself up.

Kaz squinted at her as he pulled his trousers back up.

“Fine, I can begin washing my sheets” he complied.

“You haven’t been washing them?!” She gasped, wanting to smack his shoulder.

Kaz chuckled, a laugh he’d only allow the person currently before him to ever hear, “Of course I’ve cleaned them; you sweat in your sleep”.

Y/n’s jaw dropped as she stared at him in shock, somehow mortified over the idea of her sleep sweating in his bed, despite what just happened in here between them.

Kaz laughed loudly, his dimples showing as he shook his head, “darling, it was a joke. You’re perfect”.

Y/n placed the towel on the other side of her, turning to face Kaz as she tugged on her blanket.

He smiled tenderly at her - another behavior only she’d witness- before standing to help pull her blanket over her body the way she wanted.

His gloved hands were sure to never touch her skin during the act.

But, as he set the fabric over her bare chest, he sucked in a deep breath before he slid his gloved fingers under her arm to tuck in the blanket.

He’d touched her skin more directly than that by now, but after the intensity of the moment immediately prior, he didn’t want to risk ruining the intimate moment they shared by taking a chance.

She smiled up at him, her body relaxed and eyes heavy.

Kaz nodded as he sat back down in his chair.

“Kaz” She whispered, waiting until he nodded again for her to continue.

“Do I swear in my sleep?” She asked, making him laugh again.

He rolled his eyes, “I honestly would not know. It’s my obsessive need to stick to a routine that prompts me to wash our sheets, not you “.

Her shoulders lowered as she nodded happily, “okay. So your room next time?”.

Kaz smirked, resting his gloved palm a few centimeters from her arm, “as long as you’ll continue to be my hands for now, we can do whichever room”.

“If you’ll be my hands taking care of you, I’ll be yours” y/n promised, grinning tiredly at him.

Kaz nodded in agreement, “the deal is the deal. Now, rest”.

Y/n grinned at him once more before letting her eyes close, peacefully falling asleep. 

Kaz Brekker Navigation/Masterlist

Six of Crows Navigation/Masterlist

Freddy Carter Navigation/Masterlist

Main Navigation/Masterlist (all my works)

Kaz Brekker Tag List (comment here to added):

@directioner5life @ell0ra-br3kk3r @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r ( @chewiethecatus for this one only as it was for your request)

argyle saying “got me stressed out its not even my girlfriend” was the funniest line for me this season we need to talk about that

Don’t Call Me Angel

castiel x demon!reader

2.3k | slight angst, fluff, fem pronouns

summary: stupid crowley had to send you to help the winchesters instead of going himself. the two brothers were a headache as it is, but the mix of their obnoxious yet very hot angel wasn’t making it any better.

hell had gone to, well hell. and you weren’t planning on staying long enough to see it all fall to shit.

from what you’ve heard, the demon abbadon had gotten into the 21st century through some time portal, those stupid winchester’s were using that pesky demon tablet to close the gates of hell, and you were fully prepared to pack all your stuff and get the hell out of dodge as soon as possible.

but of course, right as you were about to grab your things and high tail it to europe, crowley called on you and demanded you go to earth and assist the winchesters. you certainly didn’t want to, but with abbadon vying after crowley’s thrown, the older demon seemed to be a lot more crabby, and you really didn’t want to get on his bad side.

so instead of relaxing on a beach in italy, you found yourself knocking on the winchesters motel door, bag in hand and scowl even more evident on your face.

sam and dean weren’t too fond on you helping out. that stupid demon blade had been thrusted at you, put to your neck, and almost jammed into your gut before you grumbled about crowley’s involvement and how he wanted you to help.

“are you kidding?” dean exasperated, slowly dropping the demon blade while still keeping a close eye on you. “i’d rather the devil himself than help from a hell bitch like you.” you really couldn’t disagree with him. well, maybe on the hell bitch part. you were very prominent in the hell scene, being crowley’s right hand woman and all.

you agreed with the fact that you really didn’t want to be helping these two goons. you’ve seen the brothers start more problems then most, and you really didn’t want to be in the middle of it.

crossing your arms over your chest, you haphazardly leaned against the small kitchenette as your eyes followed sam’s slow movements towards his brother. “trust me, winchester, i’d rather be anywhere but this shit hole. but crowley asked — well, actually demanded i help you two. and i would like all my limbs intact thank you very much.”

“she could be of help dean.” you watched sam whisper to his brother, keeping an optimistic look on his face as he tried to convince the older winchester to garner your help. dean still seemed skeptical, so you tried your best to lighten the mood. “if it makes you two feel any better, i only went to hell and became a demon cause my stupid ex was a witch and cursed me. i never asked for any of this shit. hell, it was his fault for cheating on me in the first place-“

“jesus woman!” dean cut you off with a yell, throwing his hands up and slapping them on his thighs. “do you ever shut up?” his question was clearly rhetorical, but you seemed to find fun in pushing his buttons.

planting a smirk on your face and silently giggling to yourself, you watched as sam hit dean on the shoulder and give him a stern look. “knock it off dean, we’ve got bigger things to worry about. we should probably call cas.”

oh christ. how could you forget. for some time, the winchesters have had an angelic lap dog following them around to kneel at their feet. the last thing you wanted right now was to deal with any of those uptight, stick in the muds.

“you guys called?”

and here he was, ever the obedient little christmas tree topper. whenever the winchesters called, he was there in a second to help them with whatever they needed. it truly was pathetic on the angels part.

the second castiel’s eyes landed on you, he had his angel blade in hand and already half way across the room. the next thing you knew, he had you pushed against the wall with the blade at your throat. his eyes were narrow, void of any emotion he had when he saw the winchesters and now filled with malice.

“jeez, take me out to dinner first.” you grumbled, attempting to push at the angels chest to get him off of you. the whole thrashing and sticking blades in your direction was really getting annoying.

you could briefly make out sam and dean attempting to coax castiel off you. though in all honesty, you were trying very hard to not get entranced by the angels deep, blue eyes. you knew it was just a vessel, but holy hell. the intensity behind them darkened the blue to a stormy azure, and you were ready to close your eyes to get away from them.

“why is she here?” the angel seethed, moving the blade a little off your neck but not leaning off of you. “she’s an abomination, how haven’t you killed her yet?”

scoffing, you rolled your eyes and looked up at castiel with a dead panned look. “god, all of you are the same. abomination this, kill me that. it’s hurtful, really.” you could see sam and dean give each other a look. a look that screamed how you and castiel hadn’t been in the same room for more than five minutes and you were already a pain in their ass. it made you smile.

“okay, knock it off you two.” dean yelled, walking over to castiel and grabbing him off of you by the back of his trench coat. “we have bigger things to worry about then you two trying to kill each other. so suck it up, we’ve got work to do.” castiel just glared in your direction, putting his angel blade back on his coat sleeve as you stuck your tongue out at him.

the four of you all shuffled out of the motel room and into the winchester’s infamous impala. you couldn’t lie, it was actually pretty nice. the only thing you didn’t enjoy was how the brothers stuffed you in the back with castiel.

what you begun to realize at that moment, was angels had absolutely no idea what personal space was.

for heavens sake, the man was basically on top of you. and god forbid he didn’t spread his legs out so much. you could’ve teleported and already be at the location if it wasn’t for dean’s insistence that you ride with them; part of the whole ‘still not trusting you’ deal.

leaning against the window you cursed the angel out in your head. “could you move over? you’re basically suffocating me.” castiel just glared back, shuffling over so he could be as far away as possible from you. “oh sorry, i didn’t know the princess needed her precious space.”

oh you were going to throttle him. if sam and dean were listening in, they didn’t show it. actually, that’s a lie. dean was not making any effort to hide the upward tilt of his head, fully snooping in on what was going on in the backseat.

conjuring your nastiest glare, you stared castiel in the eyes as you made a big show of getting right into his bubble. “how do you like it now, angel? is this comfortable for you?” you were right in his face, and if cas was being honest, he thought you looked really good up close.

‘oh god’ he thought, shuffling back so he was smushed against the window. ‘i must be going insane. again.’

sorting his thoughts, castiel slightly pushed you away. he wanted you out of his personal space, but for some reason he had this nagging feeling to not push you too hard. not at all wanting to hurt you.

“you say that as if it’s a bad thing.” castiel’s remark was centred at the way you called him angel, and you weren’t an idiot to not catch on. “well it is. that’s the absolute worst thing i could possibly think of calling someone.” you had to admit, your comeback was lame. but castiel’s stare was starting to make you antsy, and you were itching for an excuse to look away before you thought something irrational.

smirking to himself, cas leaned in towards you, watching as your breath caught in your throat and your eyes widened. “alright then, angel.” his smile stayed plastered on his face as your wide eyed stare turned into a scowl, realization of what he just did dawning on your face.

words coming out through grit teeth, you clenched your hands into fists as to not launch yourself onto castiel and attack him. “don’t call me that.”

cas couldn’t even send another jab before sam’s loud huff could be heard throughout the car. “would you two quit it? it’s a small space and i really don’t want to hear bickering for the next five hours.” for once in your life you were agreeing with a winchester. there was still a long way to go till you made it to your destination and you really didn’t want to spend it getting a headache from castiel’s irritating voice.

dean on the other hand was a little bummed. the argument was starting to get interesting, and he had a bet going on with himself that you two would be so angry at each other, you’d end up making out by the end of the night.

so that’s why as you rolled into the town abbadon was supposed to be visiting, dean made sure to team up with sam so you and castiel had some time alone. there were protests, but dean wanted to prove a point. even if the point to prove was for himself.

the two of you stayed silent as you walked down the cities streets, both eyes alert for any threats while also staying as far away from each other as possible. he was just so infuriating. if it wasn’t for his quite pleasant face, then you would’ve already punched him.

“could you breathe any louder? abbadon could probably hear you from a mile away.” okay you took it back, you really were going to punch him. you just settled with an eye role though, crossing your arms over your chest as you turned your head to look at the angel. “oh yeah, sure. like your annoying voice didn’t alert her from the next state over.”

you could tell that castiel had reached his limit. his breathing was unsteady and the man looked like he was about to blow a gasket. it all made your smile brighten. “i don’t know why crowley sent you to help. you’re nothing but dead weight, angel. going to get the winchester’s killed at this rate.” your breathing was matching his now; unsteady and like you were about to pop a lung. how dare he talk about you like you weren’t an extraordinary fighter? like you weren’t one of crowley’s greatest asset in a battle. 

raising your arm, about to swing back and punch the angel, you narrowed your eyes as your words came out in mumbled seething’s. “i swear to god, i ought to kill you-“ you don’t have time to finish, for castiel had grabbed you around the crook of your elbow and spun you into the nearest alley. his body had eclipsed yours, hand over your mouth while the other supported himself on the wall by your waist.

the shock was evident on your face, eyes wide and lips parted behind castiel’s surprisingly large palm. when you attempted to push him off, the angel just propped his knee between your legs, pushing you farther into the wall.

leaning in so his lips ghosted your ear, cas whispered so lightly you swore you didn’t hear it. “don’t move.” me mumbled, moving his hand on the wall so it was wrapped tightly around your middle. “i saw abbadon and a couple of her men. they’re heading towards sam and dean.” in all honesty you weren’t really listening. all you were focused on was the feeling of castiel’s breath on your neck and his arm wrapped so tightly around your waist that his palm was pressed on your lower stomach.

you slightly nodded your head, indicating that you understood what he was talking about and that he could get his hand off your mouth. when castiel did, you couldn’t help but quip out one more little comment. “well, isn’t this romantic-“

again, you couldn’t finish your sentence. but this time instead of it being his hand, castiel shut you up by smashing his lips onto yours. you were stunned, not knowing what to do or how to react. the hand that wasn’t around your waist wound in your hair, grabbing a handful and using it to pull your head back so he could get better access.

no lie could come to your mind our out of your mouth at the moment. castiel was a good kisser, and you’d be damned if you didn’t let yourself enjoy this moment.

your hands went to his back as you grabbed fist fulls of his trench coat, hands pawing and sliding up to the nape of his neck as you tried to ground yourself and not go absolutely crazy. obviously, some of abbadon’s cronies were still walking by as you spoke, and castiel clearly couldn’t think of a better way to shut you up.

not that you were complaining.

when he finally pulled away, puffs of air came pouring out of your lips as you tried to catch your breath. castiel seemed unfazed though. his hand was still tangled in your hair and his face was still exceptionally close to yours, lips parted and swollen as his tongue darted out to lick their surface.

moving even closer so your lips were touching, castiel breathed out his last sentence before hungrily attaching his lips back to yours. “god, do you ever shut up angel?”

you knew that whatever threat he was trying to hide from was gone now. not like you cared, and it didn’t seem like cas did either. now he just wanted to kiss your lips until you were rendered speechless, and there was no way in hell you were going to stop him.

Getting nostalgic for junior year of high school, because I just remembered me and a bunch of other girls (like 11 of us) had a Snapchat group chat where we posted this photo of Legolas once

and were trying to figure out why it was the most attractive shot of him in the whole series. Literally, we were a bunch of scholars standing around this piece of artwork deciphering it

In the end we discovered it’s the only scene where he doesn’t have a collar on his tunic. We and our little teenage hormones were going batshit because we could see a little bit more of his neck. Like old fashioned men wooing at ladies ankles

High school was a different time man

insane thoughts hours but i really can't stop thinking about being in the middle of a lewis + fernando sandwich... what do you think

it's insanely competitive - the moment they get you back to a hotel room, though you're not sure whose of theirs it is, you get the sense this might be more about a silent set of mind games between the two of them, and less about you.

the position keeps changing and it's hard to keep up with who's where, with whose hands are doing what to you. you don't really understand what the goal of this is, until lewis takes you apart on his tongue and fingers, sucking on your clit as you orgasm with his name moaned around fernando's cock.

it's like a switch has been flicked, then. fernando manhandling you so you're on his lap, your back to lewis (and fernando grins at his glare), sliding three, even four fingers into you and setting a relentless pace until you're biting down a scream into the thick muscle of his neck and squirting all over his hand.

you don't get to recover before lewis is pulling you back towards him, positioning you on your hands and knees before burying himself to the hilt in your oversensitive cunt, telling you to keep looking at fernando, baby as you gasp for breath with how fucking deep he is inside you. that's what this game is -- one upping each other with your body, showing off who is better.

(and, of course, if fernando makes you squirt, lewis needs to match it, beat it.)

fernando pulls you under him and hoists your legs to his shoulders after lewis makes you orgasm again, soaking the sheets one more, sobbing his name and digging your nails into his biceps. nando is equally merciless, slowly rolling his hips deep, your thighs pressed up to your chest, before setting a brutal pace.

when you cum again, you're limp on the bed, moaned names collapsing into incoherent moans and whines. when lewis slides his fingers into your cum-slicked pussy once again, you faintly register how deliciously, painfully long this night is going to be.

Imagine Peter walking in on you and Harry...

HARRY BLURBS

prompts: ‘’I can’t be a simp- I don’t even know what that word means.’’

summary: Peter walks in on you and Harry liplocked.

character: tasm!Harry x fem!reader

warnings: a bit steamy

‘‘Fuck.’‘ Harry moaned as his hips bucked up against me. Plastered to the wall of his office I buckled in his grip.

He dipped down again, his lips catching mine, moving with such fervour and impatience.

‘‘Oh god, Harry, I have to do paperwork after this.’‘ I slid my hands into his hair as he kissed down my neck.

‘‘Guess that’ll just have to wait until another time.’‘ He mumbled into my jaw, his lips feeling mine once more.

So caught up in ourselves we didn’t notice Peter walking into his office.

His loud gasp captured out attention though.

‘‘Shit!’‘ I hissed, pushing Harry off me, he looks at me feigning offense.

‘‘What- what is going on, man? Why do I have to walk in here and find you sharing spit with my best friend?’’ Peter groans.

‘‘I thought I was your best friend? Besides-’‘ Harry gestures to me. ‘’We’ve done more than share spit and you haven’t had a problem with that?’’ 

‘‘I know but seeing it is so much worse, burns my eyes, y’know?’‘ Pete shivers.

‘‘Hey, I’ve seen you and Gwen in worse positions when I’ve walked in either of your bedrooms.’‘ I speak out.

‘‘True true, fair point but at least I don’t simp over Gwen as much as this shorty does over you.’‘ He sticks his tongue out at us, even though that statement is in no way factual.

‘‘I can’t be a simp- I don’t even know what that word means.’‘ Harry crosses his arms.

I look at Harry and wink, he blushes and smiles.

gale: katniss will choose whoever she can’t survive without

peeta who was just peacefully sitting in the corner, trying to remember what the color orange looked like and didn’t even know there was a love triangle to begin with: ok??😐

I Could Be Yours

hozier x f!reader

part one of lullabies <3

hi i have risen from the dead... new matt stone will be coming soon i promise!! i've just become infatuated with hozier recently so i had no choice but to devote a new fic to him <3

i didn't proof read because it's bedtime, i will fix tomorrow if there's any errors!! soz

cw: none really... just a shitty boyfriend and drinking. still 18+

word count: 3.5k

“That’s your man, ‘uh?” The deep voice behind me made me jump, forcing me to peel my eyes from Joe and the leggy blonde he was laughing with.

“Stop doing that!” I gasp, clutching a hand over my chest, jokingly punching Andrew in the arm. “But yes. That’s him,” I sigh, wanting to cut the conversation before it had a chance to start. Andrew was far too friendly to be talking to my walking storm cloud of a boyfriend.

“I didn’t know his sister was playing tonight,” he confessed casually, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt. “Which one is she?”

“He doesn’t have a sister,” I shake my head, quirking an eyebrow at the human tower before me. “Where’d you hear that?”

“Huh?” He played dumb, though a soft pink blush tinted his cheeks, looking like he wished he could eat his words.

“Where did you hear that?” I repeated, the room suddenly too hot for comfort, despite Joe's protests that I was dressed like a 'tart,' in his words.

“I’m sure I misheard, hearing’s a bit shot,” he lied through his teeth, and he must be a fool to believed I'd let him play it off.

“Andy," I faced him now, trying to force him to meet my eyes he was so desperately avoiding. "Who did he say that to?”

“That woman,” his voice sounded pained, as if he were almost ashamed to tell me. He was too smart, he could read me, and if anyone could read the room, it was him. I just went quiet, his warm calloused hand placed on my shoulder, feeling like it might burn a hole in my dress. “You deserve better,” he professed sincerely, pulling that horrid face at me, the type you pull when you feel really sorry for someone.

I huffed some pathetic excuse of a response, forcing my eyes to the ground. There seemed to be a magnetic pull, forcing my eyes back to Joe, hurting my own feelings again and again. I can’t recall a time he’d ever looked that interested in me. Not unless he was trying to bed me, which was usually after a stressful day at work or after a massive fight.

“If you were my girl, every man and their dog would know. You’re too good for him,” his voice was warm, like being pulled from a frozen over lake and straight into an oven. His Irish brogue more apparent than ever, and I cursed myself for the way my heart leapt in my chest.

He just slipped past me onto the stage for his set, unaware that he just made me feel nearly every emotion in the span of two minutes.

“That’s not even a real job,” Joe scoffed, shaking his head indignantly like he always did, as if everyone were beneath him. He’s always looked down at others for as long as I’ve known him. His Napoleon Complex makes him feel like he’s six foot eleven, when in reality, I barely have to tilt my head to kiss him.

I bit my cheek to suppress an angry concoction of insults, swallowing it down and opting for, “so my job isn’t a real job?”

“Babe,” he groaned, one soft hand slipping off the steering wheel onto my thigh. “You know that’s not what I meant. It’s just not very manly, is all. He should be doing something that’s not just for chicks.”

“He’s a carpenter, actually,” I lied, arms barricaded across my chest as I tried to focus on the London Bridge we were rolling over. “Manly enough for you?”

“Could you relax? Jesus Christ…” he pulled his hand from me quicker than he placed it there, sighing emphatically. “You gettin’ your period or something?”

“No!” It was my turn to scoff now, turning to face him. His stupid face was contorted like it always was, as if he’d smelt something rotten. “You’ve hurt my feelings, Joe.”

“Oh, everything hurts your fucking feelings,” he seethed, hooking a turn so sharp I just about fell into the driver’s side. I muttered under my breath, gripping onto the handle at the top of my door, as it was highly likely I was going to need it for the rest of the trip. That’s my Joe. Sickly sweet when you first meet him, then cold and sharp when he drops the act. “I don’t know how much longer I can put up with this shit.”

“Excuse me?” I straightened up, my stomach twisting in that familiar nauseating knot.

“You. Your shit,” he rolled his eyes for what felt like the thousandth time, turning his head to me, deadpan. “Constantly starting arguments, whining about everything. You’re exhausting me.”

Then the rest of the entourage strides in on cue. The searing pain in my throat, the tears prickling into my eyes. The shame and embarrassment that pummel me like waves in a storm. Oh, God, the embarrassment. I feel my cheeks glow red, and suddenly the chill of late Autumn is comparable to a sauna, and there’s not enough air in the passenger side to satiate my lungs.

“Don’t cry,” he groans again, refusing to look at me again. And suddenly, I’m twelve again, trying to cry silently in my father’s car. Sigmund Freud would be laughing in his grave right now. “I’m sorry," he sighs, reaching for my leg again. I jerk away. "Shouldn’t have taken it so far.”

Though his apologies are just words at this point. I’ve walked this road too many times to not know any better. The rest of the ride home is silent, my knees pressed into the passenger door, trying to focus on anything but the fact that I will probably never leave. I will board this train wreck until he beats me down to nothing.

"He just has this weird infatuation for you. A blind man could see it," he tsked, shaking his head as if it were my fault. "And you just egg him on. He's a proper knob."

"He's the knob? What'd you think of your sister's set, hm?" I seethed, silently letting the tears fall as if I were in some sappy drama.

We didn't speak for the rest of the night, Joe slamming his car door, storming inside to lock himself in our bedroom. I washed my face in the kitchen sink and fell asleep on the couch in the small hours of the morning.

Joe didn't come to my show tonight, opting for the local pub with his work mates. I can't lie and say I was upset about it. Another thing I couldn't lie about is how Andrew's words played on a loop in my head for the rest of that night and all day today. I know he was just saying it to comfort me, but is it sad that I've never been so flattered?

"Hey," I smiled, the condensation from my breath hanging between us as I walked up to Andy. “Thought you were quitting.”

He was leaning against the brick wall outside the bar, a halfway smoked cigarette to his lips. He looked nice tonight. His usual unruly curls framing his face so perfectly, two layers under his dark denim jacket. He grinned infectiously as always, never once tearing his eyes from mine as he shrugged, “I’m no quitter.”

“Shut up,” I groaned, finding my spot beside him, now pressing my back to the cold bricks.

“So, where’s Jake tonight?” Now his eyes were fixed on the busy street before us, his arm brushing mine each time he’d put the cigarette to his lips.

“It’s Joe,” I corrected with an eye roll, though there was no malice in my expression. “And he’s watching the game with his mates. We’ve barely spoken since last night.” My heart ached a bit at the reminder of what he’d said to me on the drive home. You’re exhausting me. If his wish was for me to rethink the past five years, he certainly got it.

He gave me that pathetic poor you look again. "Come on. I'll buy ya' a drink. I insist."

"Who am I to deny you?" I grinned, following close behind him as he stubbed his cigarette out under his boot, holding the bar door open for me.

He ordered himself a whiskey on the rocks, a coconut margarita for me. We slid into a small booth at the back, the walls practically vibrating from the drunken chatter and the obnoxious drum solo on the stage.

"She's busy tonight, eh?" He half shouted across to me, leaning over his drink.

"I know, right? I've never seen the place like this," I agreed, taking in just how alive the atmosphere was tonight. "Remember me when you're famous."

"You're not easy to forget. You remember me!" He grinned at me, taking a large swig of his drink. I couldn't tear my eyes from his Adam's apple bobbing with each sip, his eyes dark in the dim lighting. I felt extreme guilt, forcing my eyes anywhere but his direction.

He must've sensed it. This man could read me like a book. Thankfully, he steered the conversation smoothly, "what're you playing tonight?"

"Oh, no. I'm not singing tonight," I shook my head, polishing off my drink in a sip a little bit too big for my mouth. "Want another drink? My shout."

"Why aren't you singing?" He ignored me, pulling a face that screamed, are you mad? "If there's any night for it, it's tonight."

"Honestly, I just want to get pissed and be the observer for once." I smiled sweetly, hoping he couldn't see through the facade. "What're you singing then?"

"An original," he smiled coyly, eyes faltering.

"Oh, Andy! How exciting," I cheered, genuinely happy for him. He'd shown me some of his poetry, and with such a beautiful voice, there's no possibility he could go wrong. "You're going to blow the roof off. This calls for another drink."

"As you wish," he grinned, holding eye contact as he finished off his glass, the faintest pink tinge to his cheeks.

When I made my way back to the table, my heart sunk a bit when I saw a girl leaning against our table giggling, tucking thick red locks behind her ears. He was laughing too, body language practically begging for more. I might be exaggerating. Why did I even care? I am in a committed relationship.

Funny, he looks just as amused as Joe did last night.

I made my way to the table, sliding his drink to him.

"Hi, I'm Harper," she smiled wide, a beautiful array of pearly teeth on full display.

"Lovely to meet you. Y/N," I smiled back, unable to look at Andrew. "I'm gonna go watch the show. I'll leave you to it."

I turned my back just as he was about to protest, sipping at my drink as I kept my word, finding a seat before the stage. I couldn't really focus on the music though, my mind reeling over what Joe was up to. He hadn't even texted or calls. His location was off too. I grabbed another couple drinks, bumping into Andrew when I made my way back to the stage.

"Y/N," he reached for my arm, a sincerely apologetic tone to his voice. "I'm sorry for earlier, that was rude."

"No it wasn't," I replied a bit too quick, brushing off the apology. "You're single, you can do whatever."

"I meant having someone at our table," shit. Was that the wrong thing to say? Their margaritas are always too strong. "I was enjoying just having you and I time."

"No worries, there's always next time," I smiled sweetly, though really, I just wanted to get in the nearest cab, pack all my shit at home and move back to Bristol. "You're nearly on! I'll be front row." I turned away again, finding my way back to the nice girls I made small talk with earlier.

Sure enough, Andrew was up within the next fifteen minutes. The announcer, somewhere hidden backstage spoke, "please give your warmest welcome to our absolute favourite, Andrew Hozier-Byrne!"

He walked onto the stage, acoustic guitar hanging from his neck as he awkwardly made his way onto the stage, adjusting the microphone to his height as he did each night.

"Ehm, this song is called I Could Be Yours," he offered a tight lipped smile to the crowd, a few cheers heard here and there. "Thanks guys."

I couldn't help but grin at his shyness, the complete opposite of how he was with me.

I could be soft and sweet, I could be hard and loud.

I could be everything you'd ever need somehow.

Why don't you hear me sing out from the lost and found,

I could be yours, I could be yours, I could be yours.

He seemed to be scanning the crowd, probably for Harper, meanwhile all eyes were on him, basking in his glory. As if he were rain in a drought, not a single soul in the audience not mesmerised by his syrupy voice. Myself included, wide eyed, the epitome of awe.

Why don't you try on me? Why don't you take me home?

I'll match the colour scheme of your bedroom walls.

Oh, take a dose of me, it doesn't hurt at all.

I could be yours, I could be yours, I could be yours.

His skilled fingers danced along the strings, his eyes, when not scanning the crowd focused on his measured movements. To say I was moved was an understatement. His voice thick and sweet as honey, his eyes shining under the stage lights, the hypnotic effect he had on the crowd. Unlike anything I had ever experienced.

Then his eyes found mine. It was almost like nothing existed in the same realm as him and I. Just us.

Oh God, I'd benefit from your sweet tenderness.

Oh, thank God, it could've been, 'cause nothing comes from it.

That'd be a helpful thought if I could remember it,

but I could be yours, I could be yours, I could be yours.

"Thanks," he nodded awkwardly to the crowd, eyes leaving mine as he did the stage, the audience cheering and clapping.

I couldn't put into words the feelings I felt if you held a gun to my head. No doubt my eyes glistened back at his, tears of joy swimming at my waterline, completely estranged from last nights'.

"He was looking right at you!" One of the women I'd met shouted over the cheers, shaking me by the shoulder. I just hummed some response, smiling and beelining for the exit.

The bite of the outdoors was a stark comparison to the warmth of the bar, my nervous system seeming to reset instantaneously. I pulled out my phone and checked the time. 8:45pm. I told Joe I wouldn't be home til midnight and not to wait up for me.

It was wrong to feel this way about Andrew. He was my friend. I had Joe. Even if we had our rough patches.

My phone buzzed wildly in my hand, and when I checked the caller ID, I nearly didn't pick up.

I sighed. "Hello?"

"Hey," Andrew spoke loudly over the drunken chatter, a few good one mate, and, good on ya's here and there. "Where'd you run off to?"

"I, uh, had too much to drink," I lied through my teeth, kicking at the gravel beneath my feet. "I'm just heading home."

"Oh..."

"I'm out the front," I piped up, not wanting him to think he caused this. Or that I was running away. Because I was not. Right?

He hung up and shortly after, his tall figure emerged, his shadow reaching me before he did.

He opened his mouth to speak, but I beat him to it. "Great song, Andy. Really beautiful." I meant it.

"Oh, yeah. Thank you," he smiled, looking down at his boots. "How're you getting home?"

"I was gonna get a cab, or an Uber, or something." I shrugged, acutely aware of how breathy I sounded. Beyond tired. I wasn't lying when I said I'd had too much to drink.

"No need, I'll take you." He offered, digging his hands into his pockets and gesturing with his head for me to follow.

"It's okay, Andy, really," I countered, giving him my must sincere smile I could muster. I was too confused right now. Nobody had ever made me feel this way while I've been with Joe. "Get in there and mingle. They loved you."

"I'd rather know you're safe."

I ended up in the passenger seat of his car. He'd kindly put the heater on full blast, though no doubt, he'd be sweating under all those layers. I protested, but he kept fretting about how red my nose was from the cold.

"You alright?" He asked, my head leaned against his window.

"Yeah," I breathed, struggling to keep my eyes open, though my mind was very much awake and racing.

"You've been acting funny, did I upset you?" He glanced over at me, concern written all over his features. Had he always been this handsome?

"It's not you. I'm sorry," I lifted my head to look at him. Tequila and I are not friends. I flipped down the visor mirror to see a tiny it of smudged mascara under my eyes. I wiped it away, sighing for the hundredth time. "Joe just... things aren't going well. I slept on the couch last night. Well, barely. He's just so mean, you know?" I babbled drunkenly, a huge weight lifting after finally telling someone. "He always picks at everything I do. You complain all the time. You put too much salt in this. That isn't a real sustainable job, babe. We never shag anymore... Shag? Isn't that disgusting, Andy?"

I continued my drunken spiel, probably including more details than I should have. Andrew just kept his eyes on the road, sharing glances here and there to let me know he was listening.

The grande finale, "why can't all men just be like you? You would make a wonderful husband, you know. You wouldn't tell your girlfriend she's too lively in bed, would you?"

"No, I wouldn't," he laughed, shaking his head. He looked at me fondly. For once, it wasn't a look of sympathy. It was kind of sad, almost.

"I've said too much, haven't I?" I probably looked like a kicked puppy at the realisation, but one smile from him eased any disconcertion I had.

"Not at all," he sighed, staring at his hands on the wheel. "I have a lot to say. I just don't think I should be the one saying it."

"Well, now you have to tell me," I countered, lolling my head to the side to face him.

"He's a fuckwit," he shook his head, his grip on the wheel tightening. "He doesn't deserve you. Not even a little bit. He's going to fuck it up and won't realise what he's lost until it's too late. And you know what? Good."

He pulled onto the road before my house with perfect timing, getting out of the car to open my door for me. He took my hand in his, helping me out, and thank goodness he did, because I still nearly rolled my ankle. I laughed and let myself fall into his chest, steadying myself after a hearty, obnoxious laugh.

"Oh my God, I've made a complete fool of myself tonight," I sighed, this time it felt like a release, not a breath weighing me down. "Thank you for taking care of me, Andy."

"Anytime at all," he grinned leaning against his car. I couldn't help myself, lurching forward at him, wrapping my arms around his torso. My head barely reached his shoulder, even when standing on the curb.

"I loved your song," I murmured against his chest, pulling back to grab his face. He turned ghost white. "You are my favourite singer. Ever."

His cheeks darkened as he looked away, chuckling softly with the shake of his head.

"Drink lots of water for me tonight. That's an order as your favourite singer."

"Yes, Mr. Hozier-Byrne," I grinned, turning on my heels and heading for the door. The garage door was 1/4 open. Joe must be home early.

I fumbled through my purse for my keys, finding them after what felt like an eternity of great difficulty. I was going in with a good attitude. I was going to sit him down and hash this out. We can fix this. We've been together nearly 6 years, this is just a rough patch.

I walked up to my bedroom, sure my ears were deceiving me. When I opened my bedroom door, I saw red.

omg angst... just hear me out i have good direction for this one. i hope u enjoyed <3

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