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celestial-kit · 3 years ago

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When He Sees Me

Pairing: Kirishima x f!reader

Warning: NSFW, Minors DNI, Oral (Male and Female Receiving), Penetration, Just general sex I guess

As a waitress in a diner, it wasn’t uncommon to have regular patrons. You often saw a group of nurses come in for mimosas and pancakes after finishing a night shift, a pair of retired old men who set up a small, mobile tv to watch old movies while slowly eating their lunch, and a gaggle of grumpy middle aged women who always tip you with spare change and life advice. One regular that you always look forward to seeing is Pro-Hero Red Riot. He started coming by the diner a few months ago, looking for a quick meal after finishing a long patrol and, even though you could tell he was tired, he greeted you with a big, toothy grin and introduced himself as Kirishima.

Since that first night, he started regularly eating dinner at the diner every Monday, always sitting at the same table in the back of the restaurant and always looking so happy to see you. He took the time to ask how you were doing, he was patient and kind when you were having a particularly busy shift, and he always tipped very well. He was, undoubtedly, your favorite customer.

This Monday, you were surprised to see that Kirishima wasn’t alone when he walked into the diner. Standing next to him was Pro-Hero Dynamight, wearing his signature scowl as he looked at you with annoyance. You had to admit, you were a little frightened to see him in person. He was rather intimidating and it was a stark contrast to Kirishima’s disarming nature.

Kirishima saw you freeze as his best friend gave you a death glare. He rubbed the back of his neck as he leaned down and gave you a sympathetic smile, “Don’t mind him, he gets hangry. Can we have my normal table?”

“Sure!” You squeak nervously. You grab two menus for the large men and quickly walk them back to their table. After they’ve taken their seats, you whip out your notepad and pen. “Can I start you with something to drink?”

Kirishima gives you a smile as he looks up into your eyes. “I’ll just have water. How’s your night been?”

You can feel your cheeks warming up at his attention. He was always so genuine when he spoke to you, with his head resting on his fist and looking at you like you’re the only person in the room. You meet his eye contact and tuck some hair behind your ear as you reply. “It’s been good. A little slow, but that just means I have more time to read between tables.”

His eyebrows rise at that. “Oh? What are you reading?” You open your mouth to respond, but you’re interrupted by a cough next to you. You turn your head and see Dynamight with his arms crossed and his death glare now focused on Kirishima. You quickly realize that you never took his drink order.

“I’m so sorry! What can I get you to drink?” You respond hastily. Without looking at you, he grumbled a low “Water” and you left to get their drinks. As you came back, you could see them both leaning over the table and whispering about something.

“Just tell her, idiot,” Dynamight whispered loudly to Kirishima as you set their water on the table.

“Tell me what?” You ask, innocently looking at Kirishima. His face went almost as red as his hair as he waved his hands in front of him.

“Nothing! Don’t worry about it,” he laughed as he looked pointedly at his blonde friend. Dynamite groaned at this, clearly annoyed with this interaction.

“If you don’t tell her, I will. I’m sick of you talking about it all the time,” he crossed his arms again and looked at Kirishima with an eyebrow raised, daring him to take on his challenge. Kirishima looked horrified for a split second before he looked at you and ultimately looked away, a soft blush painting his cheeks as he started to speak.

“I have a little crush on you,” he admits, making Dynamight snort. Kirishima frowned at his friend before he continued, “Ok, it’s not little. I think you’re beautiful and you’re all I can think about. Can I take you out sometime?” He finally looked up at you, hopeful and nervous after his confession. You stared at him with your mouth agape as your face started burning up. You were shocked that he felt this way, but you weren’t displeased. You always thought that Kirishima was handsome and you loved the brief amount of time you got to spend with him each Monday.

As you tried to wrap your mind around the situation, you could see Kirishima’s face fall. You realize that it had been a minute and you still hadn’t responded to his question. “Yes! Of course, I’d love to! Are you free Friday?”

Kirishima’s face brightens at this, excitedly saying, “Really? Yeah, let’s do Friday!” He stands up with a big grin on his face, raising his hand to high-five his friend, and starts to walk out of the diner, with Dynamight following closely behind. You gawk at them as they push the door open to walk out onto the sidewalk.

“Wait! Aren’t you forgetting something?” You giggle as the redhead turns around, looking as if he had an epiphany and starts walking back to where you're rooted at his table.

“Oh, yeah,” he laughs sheepishly as he pulls out a large bill from his wallet and places it on the table, presumably to pay for the water that neither of them drank.

You blink before you push the bill back into his hand and say, “No, don’t you need my phone number?”

Kirishima blinks back at you and nods, pulling his phone from his pocket and handing it to you as a fresh blush paints his cheeks. You giggle again as you input your number, acutely aware of Kirishima staring over your shoulder, his large frame invading your space. You hand his phone back to him with a dizzy smile, his hand brushing yours as he takes it from you.

Kirishima meets your eyes and flashes you another smile, “I’ll text you!” And then he was out the door, meeting up with his scowling friend and walking away from the diner.

Kirishima did, in fact, text you. During the days leading up to your date, you spent every spare moment you could texting each other, updating each other throughout the day of what you were doing and texting late into the night, getting to know each other. You also swapped photos back and forth, nothing raunchy, just little snapshots of your day. You would send photos of you curled up with your cat, cooking dinner, drinking wine. He would send photos of himself at the gym, walking with Dynamight, and showing himself looking bored as he filled out paperwork.

One picture in particular had your mouth going dry and your stomach doing flips. Around midday on Wednesday he sent you a picture of him sitting on top of a criminal, pinning him to the ground with one hand on the back of his head, the selfie taken at an angle above Kirishima’s head and showed off the sweat stuck to his brow as he grinned proudly at the camera. You zoomed in on the picture, admiring his pectoral muscles and chiseled abs, imagining how it might feel to have him pin you down like that. You texted back a simple “Be careful!” before rushing to the restroom in the diner to splash cold water on your face.

When Friday came, you were eager to see Kirishima. It had been a while since you had been on a date, so you took your time getting ready, sipping on a chilled glass of wine to calm your nerves. The restaurant you agreed to meet at was close to your apartment, so you knew you could walk there and didn’t need to worry about driving. When you arrived, you could see Kirishima already at a table, wearing a simple white button down tucked into black slacks. A few buttons were undone at the top of his shirt, showing off his pecs and some of the black hair that littered his chest.

When he saw you walking up, he broke out in a massive grin, standing up and wrapping you in a warm hug, landing a quick kiss on your cheek. He pulled away, still grinning, to pull out your chair for you to sit down. Your cheeks were burning red from the affection as you sat down and said, “Thank you.”

Kirishima sat across from you and took the time to look you up and down as you started perusing the menu. His gaze swept across the gentle features of your face, admiring the curve of your lips which was accentuated with your lipgloss, and continued to move his gaze down past your exposed neck to land on your cleavage. Your dress loosely fits your curves, and he can’t help but stare.

The rest of your evening seemed like a blur, you and Kirishima falling into a rhythm of talking, laughing, and drinking. Together you share a bottle of wine, various appetizers, and, at one point, shots of tequila. You were feeling warm and giggly from the booze and the company, it felt nice. Under the table, Kirishima had kicked out his long legs and intertwined them with yours, playing footsie as he looked at you dreamily. The waiter eventually interrupts you to ask if you would like dessert. You and Kirishima share a look before he declines the waiter's offer. As Kirishima pays the bill, you reach across the table to graze your fingers over his knuckles, gently asking, “Want to have dessert at my place?”

Kirishima’s hungry, red eyes meet yours at your suggestion and he simply nods before throwing some money on the bill and grabbing your hand to pull you out of the restaurant. You lead the way down the street, walking swiftly with Kirishima’s hand on your back, keeping you close. When you get into your apartment elevator, Kirishima doesn’t hesitate to grab your face and crash his lips to yours. It feels as if the events of the week have been leading up to this moment, and the release of tension between the two of you has you moaning into his lips.

The elevator ride is short, and you’re pulling away from him before you really want to to lead you both to your apartment door. You fumble with your keys as Kirishima holds onto your hips, pressing his chest to your back and laying soft, wet kisses to your neck. When your door finally swings open, Kirishima is quick to turn you around, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you as close as he can while he bullies his tongue into your mouth. He blindly kicks your door shut and starts walking you backwards into your apartment, practically lifting you off the ground to keep your mouth glued to his. When he pulls back for air, he can’t help but groan when he sees your disheveled state. You hair is a mess from his hands wandering in it in the elevator, you dress is pulled down dangerously low, exposing more of your cleavage with one strap falling off your shoulder, and your bruised lips are agape as you look at him with glassy eyes.

“You know, I think I changed my mind. I do want dessert,” he states simply before lifting you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and walking through your apartment, searching for your bedroom. You take this opportunity to attack his neck, doing your best to leave your mark on him while your hands fist in his hair.

Before you can do too much damage, you are dropped unceremoniously on your bed, startling your cat who was sleeping peacefully on your pillow. “Sorry buddy,” Kirishima mumbles without looking at the animal, too focused on running his hot hands up your thighs and under your dress. He wraps his strong fingers around the edges of your underwear, pushing his thumb into the fabric at your crotch and feeling how you’re already soaking through your underwear and wetting his thumb. He brings his hand back to examine the glistening digit briefly before sticking it in his mouth and sucking your essence off it, his eyes meeting yours as you gasp his name.

He frowns at the use of his surname. “Call me Eijiro,” he says gruffly.

His tone and intense stare warm you up, turning your cheeks red and filling your stomach with butterflies. “Eijiro,” you moan, as he goes back to rubbing you through your underwear.

“Good girl,” he smirks at you. Then you hear a ripping noise and you realize that your underwear is now just a limp piece of fabric being tossed behind Kirishima’s shoulder.

“Eijiro!” You exclaim, shocked that your favorite pair of panties are completely destroyed. Kirishima just laughs at you.

“Don’t worry, precious. I’ll buy you a new pair.” Then he was leaning in and swiping his tongue across your wet heat, making you gasp at the contact. He uses his big hands to push your dress up past your hips and bury his tongue inside your pussy, thrusting in and out and drinking your essence as you moan his name and grab fistfuls of his hair.

His hot tongue works its way up to your clit, circling it as he moans against you, before wrapping his lips around it and sucking. He brings one hand down from your hips and slowly works a finger inside you while you hiss at the stretch. His hands are so big, like everything else about him, and if you weren’t so wet then the intrusion might have hurt. He starts working this finger inside you, thrusting in and out at a steady pace and curling to hit that spongy spot inside you each time. His attention on your clit persists, making you whimper, and soon you can hear the loud squelching noises of his finger moving inside you while you sucks and licks at your clit.

When he pushes a second finger in, you let out a loud moan, throwing your head back and doing your best to buck your hips up to meet his thrusts. He groans against you and uses his one hand on your hip to halt your movements, holding you in place while he starts pistoning his fingers into you. You feel tears beading at your eyes as you start heading towards a familiar cliff.

“Oh god, Eijiro!” you gasp as you near your peak.

Kirishima pulls back briefly, “Cum for me, honey. You can do it. Cum on my fingers.” His fingers don’t relent and his mouth goes back to abusing your clit as you let out a pitiful sob, gushing around his fingers and clamping down on him. He works you through your orgasm, your quiet cries spurring him on as he continues to slowly push his fingers into you.

Eventually, he pulls away, kissing up your body and dragging your dress with him until it is over your head and on the floor. He leans down to place a kiss on your lips while he grabs your breasts and flicks your hardening nipples with his thumbs. You moan when you taste yourself on his tongue and then your pushing at his shoulders so that he’s hovering over you. Before he can say anything, you grab at the edges of his shirt and pull to try to pop the buttons off his shirt. It doesn’t work, so you try again, but still fail.

You pout at his indestructible shirt and he laughs at you again. Then, he sits up and grabs the edges where you had and rips the buttons open himself. You gasp as he shucks the ruined material from his shoulders with a cocky smirk and you reach up to run your hands over his newly exposed chest, admiring the way black hair is scattered across his chest and leads down his abs to below his belt. Your mouth starts to water at the idea of what his pants might be hiding, so you sit up with him to start laying kissing on chest and stomach while your hands work his belt open.

When he’s finally free from his confines, you can’t help but gasp at his size, your eyes widening as you take him in.

He’s thick and long, the weight of him causing his length to fall despite him being fully hard. The black hair that you admired on his torso is neatly trimmed around the base of his cock, which sits directly atop his full, round balls. You clench your thighs together at the idea of him filling you up. Part of you doesn’t think he’ll fit, but another, more excited, part of you is eager to try.

You tentatively wrap a hand around the base of his cock, looking up at him through your tear stained lashes for approval. His hand reaches down to fist your hair, nodding and pulling your face closer to him. You bring your other hand up to wrap around him as well and you poke your tongue out to give him kitten licks around his head. He groans and tightens his hand in your hair, thrusting his hips a little, wiping his head and smearing precum along your cheek. You sit up on your knees for better leverage and bend down to wrap your lips around his head, feeling his fist tighten again as he starts dragging your mouth along his cock.

Kirishima knows he’s big, he doesn’t want to hurt you, so he’s gentle as he fucks your face. When he starts hitting the back of your throat and tears start spilling down your cheeks, his other hand comes up and he uses his thumbs to wipe them from your face and cradle your cheek, feeling the way his length fills your cheeks.

His moans are loud, he wants you to know how good you’re making him feel. He tells you things like You’re doing so good, baby and You’re taking my cock so well. When his moans get louder, you think he’s going to cum, so you twist one hand at the base of him and use your other hand to hold and squeeze his balls. Right when you expect him to finish down your throat, he’s using your hair to pull you back, looking down at your tear stained face while his chest heaves up and down from the effort of holding off his orgasm.

“Don’t want to cum yet. I wanna fuck you,” he says, pushing your shoulders until your back hits the bed. You nod your head like a woman possessed while he kicks his pants off and pulls a condom out of his pocket. You want to tell him not to worry about it, you’re on birth control, but you understand that as a Pro-Hero he may want to take certain precautions. Next time you think to yourself as he rolls the latex down his length and lines himself up with your leaking hole.

When he pushes in, you gasp at the burn of it, and new tears start rolling down your cheeks as he continues to push his monster length inside you. Kirishima knows it probably hurts, but he ignores your weak cries of Wait, you’re too big because he knows that the best way for the pain to stop is to just push through it. When he’s fully seated inside you, he just sits there, leaning down to kiss the tears from your face as you sob weakly. You want him to fuck you, but the stretch of him is making you clamp down so hard that he’s unable to move from his spot inside you.

“Relax, baby. You gotta stop clenching,” Kirishima says through gritted teeth. He looks as if he’s in pain, too.

“I can’t,” you say. “You’re too big, Eiji. I can’t do it.” You let out another broken sob, wishing your body would listen to what you wanted. Kirishima didn’t say anything, he just leaned down to kiss you, shoving his tongue in your mouth again and making out with you to distract you from the pressure of his length inside you. His lips moving against yours have you warming up again, and you can feel yourself flutter around his length, your wetness giving him enough lubricant to slowly pull out and push back in at a shallow pace.

When you start moaning at this action, Kirishima takes this as a cue that you’re feeling good, you want more. He leans back from kissing you and grabs the backs of your thighs, pushing your legs up and close to your chest, and starts fucking you faster and harder. You cry out at the new angle, watching him as he watches his cock disappear inside of you, his mouth hanging open as he releases long, loud moans. When he looks at your face, he smirks.

“Does that feel good, sweetheart?” He asks, continuing his brutal pace. You nod your head, holding his eye contact and reaching up to play with your breasts, tugging on your nipples and moaning out his name. He grunts at your display, pushing himself harder into you and reaching down to swipe fast circles around your clit.

You can feel that coil tightening again in your stomach, nearing your second orgasm of the night as Kirishima’s hips increase in speed. You start to feel delirious from the pleasure, drooling and babbling about how good he feels, how he’s so big, how you’re so close to cumming again.

“Yeah, baby? You want to cum again?” Kirishima asks lowly, trying to contain himself as you writhe beneath him.

“Yes, yes! Please Eijiro, I want to cum!” Your head is thrown back and you know you won’t last as the head of his cock hits your g-spot over and over and over.

“Cum for me, angel. Cum on my cock, I want to feel you.” Kirishima encourages you, and you listen to him. You arch your back and let out a wail you didn’t know you were capable of as you cum all over his cock, clamping down on him again and holding him in place as he groans at your tight walls. As you’re coming down from your high, Kirishima pushes your legs closer to your chest and fucks you faster and harder than he had all night, chasing his own high. You gasp and watch him as he grunts and groans and moans your name unashamedly, drowning in pleasure.

You moan at the feeling of him dragging inside your wet walls, and you tell him how bad you want him to cum. You tell him you wish he could cum inside you, you want him to fill you up until your dripping cum. It’s too much for Kirishima as he hastily pulls out with a loud groan, ripping the condom off his fat cock and fisting himself until he’s cumming all over your breasts and stomach.

You gaze up at the man above you, his head thrown back as he tries to catch his breath, his length softening in his hand, and you think that he’s beautiful. He looks down at you, sees you covered in his seed, and gives you a shy smile. “Sorry, I got carried away.”

You giggle a little, “It’s ok, I like it.” You smile up at him and rub your hand through his cum on your stomach. He groans again and then leans down to give you a long, wet kiss before leaving the bed to look for a towel. After cleaning up, it doesn’t take long before you’re climbing under the covers, cuddling against Kirishima’s chest as his soft snores lull you to sleep.

#kirishima x reader #kirishima smut #bnha eijiro kirishima #kirishima #kirishima eijirou #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima eijiro smut

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yournameoneverypage · 4 years ago

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Moon Over Miami

Anon request; Shawn Mendes x (y/n).

~3.1k

Warnings: Language.

~ * ~

You scowled at your overflowing carry on. You really didn’t want to bring something bigger, because that would mean baggage check and waiting at luggage carousels and that was just a headache waiting to happen.

Shawn was stretched across your bed on his back, tossing a tennis ball in the air and catching it again. “(Y/n), it’s Miami and we’re only going to be there for four days,” he chuckled. “You do not need to pack so many clothes.”

“Yes, I do. You’re a boy; you don’t understand.”

“First off, I am not a boy. I am a man, and a very attractive one at that.”

You rolled your eyes. Even if you wholeheartedly agreed, you were not going to stroke his ego.

“At the very least, lose most of the makeup. You’ll just sweat it off anyway. And you know I like you better without all that gunk on your face.”

“It doesn’t matter what you do or don’t like, now does it?” you snarked.

He sat up and leaned back against the pillows at the headboard. “I just meant that you’re already so pretty, naturally.”

Shawn was always finding little ways to compliment you and, secretly, you loved it, even if it made you blush, even if it was hard to believe some days.

“Fine.” You threw your hands up in the air in frustration. “You pack for me then.”

“Fine. I will.” He stood from the bed and poked your side. “So dramatic,” he teased, dancing his fingertips from ribcage to hip.

You gave him a small shove, and quickly moved out of tickling range (he knew where your most sensitive spots were). You stuck your tongue out at him.

“Don’t stick it out unless you intend to use it,” he smirked.

“Ha! You wish,” you giggled.

~ * ~

You and Shawn.

It was...confusing.

You had first met him five months ago and had become a regular fixture in his life over the past three. You were friends, good friends. Good friends who spent a ridiculous amount of time together. Good friends who flirted. A lot.

There were feelings, definitely on your side, growing stronger every day you spent together, and you were starting to believe there were deeper feelings on his side as well.

Other than outright pressing your lips to his, and you had never really been that forward with anyone, you weren’t sure what to do to tip the scales from friendship and flirtation to more.

You could simply tell him you were falling for him and that you wanted to take your relationship to the next level, but that scared you even more than the thought of kissing him.

~ * ~

Fifteen minutes later, Shawn stood smugly beside you. Your bag was packed neatly, and you were happy with everything he chose (not that you would admit that to him), which showed you he knew you better than you thought he did. There was even enough room left over for accessories.

It shouldn’t have surprised you; he was pretty adept at packing, having been on tour so often.

“Shut up,” you mumbled.

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“But you want to.”

Shawn laughed.

You only added two things, just to prove a point.

~ * ~

You may as well have been in Florida with only Brian and Connor for as often as Shawn had been around the first two days.

The trip had started out incredibly.

You took a redeye from LA to Miami. Shawn held your hand during takeoff and landing. It was your first time flying first class; you didn’t care that you slept through most of it.

Shawn had rented a 3-bedroom beachfront bungalow for the long weekend and had ordered a breakfast basket to be waiting for you when you got there. Everyone ate their fill of croissants and muffins and fresh fruit while you sipped your tea and coffee. Afterward you all agreed that a morning nap poolside sounded ideal.

Shawn claimed the double lounger for the two of you. You curled up beside him and he threw a light blanket over both his and your legs. You laid your head on his shoulder and were asleep within minutes.

When you opened your eyes again, after the best nap you may have ever had in your life thus far, Shawn was no longer beside you. You could see him just inside the back door, talking on his phone.

“Hey,” he announced, returning to the patio, after seeing that you, Brian, and Connor had all awoken. “I’m going to catch up with Camila. I’ll text you after lunch; see where you are.”

~ * ~

You didn’t see Shawn again that first day until you were making plans to spend the evening in South Beach for sunset drinks, dinner, and then a pub crawl for even more drinking.

The boys teased you for being such a lightweight. You were blissfully buzzed, which made it easier for you to let your inhibitions go. Shawn was more intoxicated than you were, which made it a lot easier for you to tug him onto the dance floor.

Flush against him while you moved together to the music, fingertips grazing bare skin, it was too easy to forget that you had been upset with him at all.

Spending all afternoon at the Bayside Market in the hot Miami sun, followed by a night of drinking and dancing into the very early hours of the morning had finally caught up with you. By the time you made it back to the bungalow, you were piggyback on Shawn, your sandals dangling from his fingers by the straps.

~ * ~

Day 2 began with three boys nursing hangovers much worse than yours. You did little things to annoy them, on purpose, which was, admittedly, not very nice of you. You knew they’d had enough when they decided to throw you in the pool. When Shawn reached out, laughing, to help you out, you pulled him in instead.

He chased you into one of the corners of the deep end, trapping you between the pool wall and his hard, wet chest, his arms on either side of you. You had to hold onto his biceps to keep yourself afloat, which, from the look in his eyes, was exactly how and where he wanted you.

Your heart was telling you to use this position to your advantage, finally tip those scales, and you might have if it had been the night before when you were a little drunk. Regretfully, you were sober and when you were sober you tended to overthink things. Now that you were sober, he was too close.

You ducked underwater, under his arm, and quickly pulled yourself out of the pool.

~ * ~

Once you were dry and dressed, you dragged Shawn, Connor, and Brian to Wynwood to go on a golf cart tour of the Walls. They had all been to Miami before, more than once, so they had put you in charge of the itinerary.

From Wynwood you made your way to Little Havana.

After a string of late afternoon texts from Camila, Shawn asked if she could join the four of you for dinner. He wanted you to meet her.

They tried their best to be inclusive throughout dinner, and Camila was certainly nice enough, but still you felt like the fifth wheel, the spare, most of the time.

After dinner, Shawn and Camila wandered off together. When it became clear that Shawn wouldn’t be returning to the house with the rest of you, your heart sank. You stewed in your hurt until it became anger.

You understood that Camila was one of Shawn’s best friends, and he hadn’t seen her for a while. You could forgive him for the day before, but this was supposed to be your trip. You, Brian, Connor, and Shawn. D'Artagnan and the Three Musketeers. If all Shawn had wanted to do was hang out with Camila, why had he bothered to invite you at all? You held no grudge against or felt any ill will toward Camila. It wasn’t her fault that Shawn was being a clueless dick.

~ * ~

You were laying on your side, looking out the window of which you forgot to close the blinds. The moon reflected off the still water of the pool that you could see from your room.

You heard the quietest clearing of someone’s throat. You rolled over to see Shawn leaning against the frame of the doorway, bare chested, in soft gray pajama bottoms.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you asked softly. You couldn’t sleep either, even though you were exhausted.

You really didn’t want to spend the remainder of your time in Miami being angry with him. There were still two days left. You patted the mattress on the empty side of your bed. That was all the invitation he needed.

Shawn crawled into bed beside you, tugged on the open collar of the other half of his pajamas, and chuckled, “Thief.”

“It’s so soft, and it smells like you,” you whispered.

Shawn laid his head on your stomach and you instinctively started to run your fingers through his hair, tugging gently on his curls. You heard him sigh deeply, contentedly, and the next thing you remembered was waking up to the bright morning sun.

~ * ~

You smiled and stretched languidly. Shawn must have made his way back to his own room during the night sometime. You didn’t hear anyone else up and about yet. You decided to surprise the boys by making breakfast.

Brian and Connor stumbled into the kitchen, following the smell of sizzling bacon and strong coffee.

“Is Shawn still sleeping?” you asked.

Connor and Brian exchanged a look. Connor cleared his throat and said, “Shawn isn’t here.”

You didn’t even have to ask where he had gone. Returning to your room you retrieved your phone on the nightstand. You hadn’t bothered to check it when you woke up.

There was a group text from Shawn that read:

Grabbing a workout and then a quick breakfast with Camila. Be back soon.

Brian and Connor were nearly finished eating when Shawn returned, oblivious to what he was walking into. He grabbed a few slices of bacon and sat down to join them at the kitchen island.

“Where’s (y/n)?”

Brian and Connor shook their heads at him. “You can be such a prick sometimes,” Brian said. Both he and Connor then stood and left the room.

Confused, Shawn glanced around and suddenly it all made sense. “Shit,” he said to himself, under his breath.

~ * ~

Shawn stood in your bedroom doorway like he had the night before.

“I’m sorry, (y/n).”

You refused to acknowledge him.

“I didn’t know you were going to make breakfast or I would have been back sooner.”

You wanted to bite at him that he shouldn’t have been gone at all.

You had just pulled on your swimsuit cover up when you turned to him. His eyes snapped from your ass to your eyes. You slipped on your sunglasses, grabbed your beach bag, and said, “Brian, Connor, and I will be on the beach, if you decide you want to join us.” You pushed past him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he replied.

~ * ~

You purposely chose to wear the smallest, sexiest bikini you had with you. It wasn’t one you yourself would have packed but since Shawn had been the one to pack your carry on he must have wanted to see you in it. The day you bought it was a day when you were feeling particularly confident in your body.

By the time Shawn made it down to the beach, he found you in conversation with two young men who weren’t Brian or Connor. You had removed your cover up and stood before them in your tiny white string bikini.

You were laughing at something one of them was saying. Shawn saw you reach out and briefly place your hand on his forearm.

Shawn was unprepared for the surge of violent irritation that nearly overtook him.

He saw you notice him. He bristled when you leaned in and said something in the other man's ear. He watched as you slid the temple tip of your sunglasses between your teeth. He saw you put your hand on your waist and slightly arch your back. He watched as you touched the small pendant of the necklace you were wearing and drew it away from the skin between your breasts.

Shawn hated the way the two men were looking at you. His stomach churned; his muscles tensed; his heart felt too tight in his chest. He couldn't take anymore.

Sidling up beside you, he wrapped his large hand around the nape of your neck, gently yet possessively.

“Oh, hi Shawn,” you said casually, shrugging out of his grip. “Meet my new friends, Chase and Evan.” You smiled at them, fluttering your eyelashes and biting softly on your lower lip.

“Boyfriend?” Chase asked.

“Oh no, Shawn and I are just friends.” You eased closer to Evan and reached out, meaning to touch the bracelet he was wearing, but before you could, Shawn grabbed your wrist.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he gritted through a fake smile, pulling you away.

“Let go of me,” you snapped. He did, immediately. He never had nor would he ever do anything to physically hurt you.

Brian and Connor, having seen more than enough, hurried toward you. They made you and Shawn take a step back.

“What the hell is going on?” Connor exclaimed.

“(Y/n) is being childish,” Shawn growled.

Maybe you were, but you were upset, goddamn it. “Me?! Look who’s talking! You’re acting like a jealous boyfriend! You have no claim on me!”

“You’re both being childish!” bit Brian. “And you’re starting to cause a scene. Get over yourselves and fucking talk like adults. If you can’t, walk away,” he admonished.

Shawn ran a hand through his hair and tugged frustratingly on his curls before storming off.

Brian gestured for Connor to stay with you and he followed after Shawn.

“Why did you have to antagonize him?” Connor questioned.

You glared at him. “This is not my fault. Of course you’re on his side.”

“I am on no one’s side. You’re both at fault, and you fucking know it. Yeah, he’s kind of been an asshole, but you didn’t have to flirt with those guys so brazenly right in front of him.” Connor’s voice softened. “You know how he feels about you, (y/n). You should apologize.”

You were thoroughly abashed but still feeling stubborn. You turned on Connor and said, “I will when he does.”

You put your cover up back on, slipped into your sandals, and grabbed your clutch which held your wallet, your eReader, and your phone. You trusted Connor to bring everything else back to the bungalow for you.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“For a walk. I need to be alone.”

~ * ~

The sun was going down when you returned to the house.

When you walked in the door, Shawn, who had been sitting on the edge of the ottoman, stood, and approached you cautiously. He rubbed the back of his neck. “You were starting to worry us,” he said softly.

“I’m sorry. I needed some time to cool off and to think.”

“I’m just glad you’re safe.” His relief was palpable. He stepped even closer to you. “I’m sorry. For how I acted and what I said on the beach. It’s inexcusable.”

“I am, too. I should never have purposely tried to upset you.” You unconsciously reached out and ran your fingertips along the V of Shawn’s t-shirt. “That was the first time we’ve ever fought... I didn’t like it.”

He covered your hand with his, flattening your palm against his heart, which you could feel was beating quite quickly. “Come and have dinner. It’s time to stop thinking and start talking.”

He smirked and began walking backward, hand still over yours.

It was that smirk that set your heart thumping. You followed, curiously, anxiously.

On the back patio was a romantic table set for two, surrounded by tea lights and lit candles.

“Shawn? What’s going on?” you asked, breathlessly.

He crossed to the table and pulled one of the chairs out for you. “Sit, Love. Eat.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“What?” He felt as if his heart might break.

“Too many butterflies.” You softly bit your bottom lip.

“Oh,” he breathed.

“Can we talk first?”

“Of course.”

You walked over to and sat down on the outdoor sectional.

Shawn dropped down beside you with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, (y/n). I’ve been, well, an asshole seems to be the overall consensus. I shouldn’t have ditched you to spend so much time with Camila.”

“I know you’re close,” you said, “and I know it had been awhile since you’d seen her. I tried to be understanding.”

“No,” he interrupted, “this is on me. This was supposed to be our trip. You, Brian, Connor, and me.”

“D'Artagnan and the Three Musketeers,” you said in unison and you both laughed.

Shawn leaned closer you. “Do you want to know the truth?” he asked, as if it was the greatest secret he held, which, to him, it was. “She was talking me through my feelings for you.” He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “She made it very clear to me that I was ‘estúpido’ for spending time with her instead of the person I should be, for talking through my feelings with her instead of with the one I really needed to talk with.”

“You have feelings for me?” you breathed, feeling your entire body flush, not just your cheeks.

Shawn laughed softly and took your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. “It’s not obvious? I was jealous of those other guys because I want to be the boyfriend. I want the right to call you mine... I’m falling in love with you, (y/n). Which is insane since we haven’t even kissed yet. It’s not that I haven’t wanted to; every time I see you I want to kiss you.”

Without warning, you pressed your lips to his. It took him not even a moment to respond, pulling you onto his lap and cupping your face. Kissing Shawn was even better than you had ever imagined it would be.

When finally you eased away from him, breathless, you confessed, “I’m falling in love with you too, Shawn. I want you to be mine. I want to be only yours.”

“Does that mean I can kiss you whenever I want to?” he whispered, grinning happily.

“Over and over and over again,” you breathed.

His lips once more met yours. Your hands encircled the nape of his neck. Tender and unhurried turned deep and delicious.

Your lips left his with an audible ‘aʘa’ and you giggled. “Can we eat now? I’m starving.”

Shawn’s answering laugh, rich and lightsome, was everything.

~ * ~

@mendesblurb @benito-mi-vida

#shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fiction #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes x y/n #shawn mendes x you

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hes-writer · 4 years ago

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Confessions: A ‘Favourite’ Extra

Summary: beatrice graduates and dad!harry is not invited

Warnings: angst!

Word Count: 3305 words

A/N: this is part of the ‘Favourite’ universe :D this scene takes place sometime between the first and second part! please read them before reading this.

Part One | Part Two

_____

Graduation.

Through Beatrice’s 18-years of living, she did not think that the celebration of liberation would be so sour. The day started off like any normal day. That is, except, she did not have to deliberately avoid the areas of the house that her dad, Harry, was in. It was strange that she had to feel uncomfortable in her own home.

For this special event, Beatrice had initially bought only three tickets for Ruby, Caleb and her mum, Y/N. Her dad had a packed schedule of promoting his newest album anyway so Beatrice thought that it wouldn’t even matter. She didn’t think he would want to come anyway. If Beatrice knew anything about her father is that he never really cared much about what went on in her life.

Beatrice supposes that it was okay. She had a whole lifetime to get used to it. A full lifestyle living on the edge because she didn’t know when her dad would clap-back with an insult for no reason. However, it didn’t mean that the spike in pain hurt any less. Don’t get her wrong; she was grateful for Y/N being around and involved. But Beatrice sometimes wondered how it would feel like to be wrapped in a fatherly embrace or be guided with wisdom and courage.

She really couldn’t remember the last time Harry did anything that made Beatrice feel like his daughter. Aside from the family photos they took on during the holidays or when celebrating whatever work achievement he managed to snag--that was the only time where Beatrice would feel Harry’s hand resting on her shoulder.

___

“Can I get one?” Ruby asked, tugging on the coloured strings of Beatrice’s cap. Her small body was being held by her older sister while Y/N took photos of the three siblings.

“Caleb, put your phone away please,” Y/N requested, shaking her head at the way the young boy groaned. Nonetheless, he followed the instruction.

"You’re lucky I love you or I would not have shown up,” Caleb grumbled, offering a sweet smile afterwards to suggest that he was joking. The three siblings posed for the camera, Beatrice trying hard not to let Ruby tilt her square cap.

Between a plastered smile, Beatrice replied, “Probably why dad isn’t here,”

Caleb widened his eyes significantly. Though, it seemed conspicuous to Y/N who was busy figuring out how to brighten the screen.

“That’s not true, sissy. He’s just busy,”

Beatrice chuckled, shrugging off the comforting hand of her younger brother, “Always busy but never when one of you have something going on,”

“It’s just a coincidence,”

“Yeah, sure,”

Caleb frowned at her response, focusing her attention on Ruby’s babbles. He almost spilled the surprise that their dad was going to watch Beatrice cross the stage. Caleb knew how his sisters felt about Harry and he hoped that his appearance would help patch things up between them.

Caleb walked over to Y/N, “Are you sure that Dad’s coming?”

Y/N nodded, “Yes, he said he’s looking for parking now,”

Caleb bit his lip nervously, “Do you think she’ll be surprised?”

——

“Graduate with honours, Beatrice Y/LN,”

Applause filled the venue as Beatrice walked up the steep steps of the stage. A shy smile was placed on her lips when she caught sight of the projector screen showcasing her achievements for her senior year.

In the audience, both Harry and Y/N were confused as to why Beatrice used her mother's name to be announced. The cinch in Y/N’s brow smoothed out when the principal continued speaking. Harry, however, couldn’t help the questioning frown.

“Top Chemistry. Top Biology. Overall Best Science Student. Gold Volunteer Badge. Level 4 Music Theory. Beatrice has been excelling both academically and musically while serving the community,”

Beatrice squinted at the bright lights, placing her diploma and speech on the podium. She had never been good at public speaking. However, her announced name gave Beatrice newfound confidence. It’s just her. All her achievements wouldn’t be credited to her father just because he was Harry Styles.

“Hi, uh,” She cleared her throat, “I’m Beatrice Y/LN and I’m very honoured to be standing in front of you today,”

Her speech was short and to the point; thanking her fellow classmates even though there were very few to thank personally. There were a few jokes in between and some nostalgic memories about various school events throughout the year. Beatrice mentioned remarks to her teachers who helped her achieve high grades. Lastly, she thanked her family for supporting her

“I’d like to thank my family. My brother, Caleb. My sister, Ruby and my Mum. You guys have been so wonderful to me and I hope that I made you proud,”

Y/N was tearing up with a hand clasped over her mouth. She could not believe that her oldest daughter was off to university in a few weeks. Beatrice’s work ethic was unmatched and it showed in her getting the recognition that she deserved.

There was a pregnant pause before applause filled the space again. Despite switching her name last minute, everyone in her school knew that Beatrice was a Styles kid. They were probably waiting for her to mention him in her speech. But Beatrice felt no need to mention the man that had done nothing for her. He wasn’t even here.

“Thank you and congratulations, everyone!”

Harry slumped lower in his seat. He could feel Y/N’s worried eyes and Caleb’s observant gaze inspecting his face.

____

Beatrice stood beside her family, watching Harry a few metres away who was currently busy attending to the fans that recognized him. Even with his graying hair, many parents greeted him with a reminiscing statement about how they ‘saw him in concert back in the day’, to which he would chuckle at and proceed to converse for a few minutes until their child--Beatrice’s age--tugged them away.

All that Beatrice wanted to do was to get home and interact with her online friends. She had mentioned that she was graduating today and they were all very proud of her. Beatrice would rather take the peace and quiet of her own room than a bustling party.

“You’re invited,” Emma, a popular girl, stated while handing her a piece of paper with all the details of the party. Beatrice mumbled a hushed ‘thanks’, despite knowing that she wouldn’t even attend it in the first place.

“Are you going, Tris?” Y/N asked, holding Ruby’s hand so the youngest child would not get lost in the crowd.

Beatrice shook her head ‘no’, explaining that there was no point.

“I don’t know anyone there anyway,”

She was kind of a loner, but Beatrice was happier by herself anyways. “Besides, I don’t think dad will agree. It’s way past curfew,”

Y/N nodded in understanding. The curfew set for their eldest child was at nine in the evening. Y/N was sure that Harry would be lenient to let Beatrice go; it was her graduation after all. Sooner or later, Beatrice would be leaving for university.

____

Beatrice should be grateful. She should be happy, yet somehow those emotions were non-existent to her brain right now. She should be smiling, eyes brimming with tears because her dad actually cared to throw a party for her. But all she could feel right now was a pure disappointment and agonizing anger because Beatrice knows that he was trying to make up for years of mistreatment.

At this moment, the rowdiness of the party only proved that Harry really did not know anything about Beatrice. She did not know over half the people here, aside from the few relatives they see during the holidays; her grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles. The rest were recognizable from Harry’s industry. Beatrice swore she saw Lizzo sipping a cup of liquor in their kitchen.

Aside from the initial greeting of ‘congratulations’, paired with the large banister taped on the foyer of the house, this party wasn’t much of a celebration based on Beatrice’s milestone in life. If anything, it looked like a regular get together for celebrities and industry people. Frankly, she had no interest in interacting with them. As rude as it may sound, the swirling turmoil of emotions beginning from her stomach made Beatrice push past the packed crowd with a tight-lipped smile in order to get to her room.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe, especially knowing that these people in her house absolutely adored Harry. They saw him as a family man, loved and appreciated by his kids. It wasn’t a complete lie, per se. Beatrice just didn’t have much experience to confirm that he was, in fact, a lovable and caring person.

If she had to put a finger on it, Beatrice was feeling utter disgust. She was disgusted because Harry was the perfect person in their eyes when everything he had shown her was that she was someone that didn’t deserve any of his attention. It felt like this was a celebration of her dad’s façade--he was not actually proud of her. He was just making it seem like he is so he wouldn’t be perceived as the dead-beat dad.

A knock at her door sounded. It was almost as if Beatrice could sense her dad’s presence without turning around to look at who just entered the privacy of her room.

“Tris?” Harry whispered, hesitating on mumbling the nickname. He had never done it willingly before, much less not as bitter as the previous times.

Beatrice swore that she could practically see the venom slithering on his tongue every time he said her name. But maybe that was just her skewed perception.

The chair that she was sitting on creaked as she shifted her weight, leaning her elbows on her desk.

“Why did you even throw a party, dad?”

It was merely a genuine question that held so many underlying meanings. Why now? Why not earlier when there was still hope to fix whatever sort of broken and fucked up relationship they had with each other?

Harry fully stepped into the room, observing the walls decorated with art and artists whom he recognized were his friends. He didn’t realize that she was a fan of Florence Pugh.

He cleared his throat with a fist to his mouth, “I wanted to celebrate your graduation,”

Beatrice internally rolled her eyes, “Did you really? Because you haven’t been there when I needed your help with my homework or assignments or anything. Now, suddenly you want to act like you were a big part of how I achieved my accomplishments?”

It was a sour realization. It was accurate that Harry refused to help her with schoolwork. He swore that he was busy looking over new options for his upcoming projects. Retrospectively, he might have subconsciously spewed out excuses so that he wouldn’t be able to help his dear daughter.

Beatrice sighed, flattening the balls of her palms against the edge of the sleek wood, pushing the rolling wheels of the chair back. She stood up.

“Just admit it. You threw the party because you felt guilty and you think that somehow, everything will magically be okay between us?” Beatrice shot him a questioning look, chest-puffing when Harry’s lack of words confirmed her theory.

Beatrice propped her feet in the middle of her room, twisting her body so that her back was facing away from the closed-door; from him. She breathed heavily through her nose, lungs rising up and down as she gathered her thoughts.

Unbelievable.

Harry stood with his arms by his sides, staring at his daughter with curious compassion. He did not know what to say, nor did he know how to act because he didn’t take the time to get to know her. He didn’t spend time with Beatrice; nurturing, caring, calming or comforting her because he simply couldn't get over the fact that she was once a person that caused calamity in his life.

“Tris,” Her dad spoke, earning a pinch of her facial expression from the familiarity of the nickname. Yet, it was unfamiliar because Harry used it mundanely.

Beatrice cut him off, “I’ll be leaving for university in a few weeks. You can quit pretending like you care. You say this graduation party is for me but I don’t even know most of the people here!”

The volume of her voice reached a threshold that should warn both of them to keep quiet. However, Beatrice knew that with the hustle and bustle of the celebration going on downstairs—no one would hear her honesty except for her and Harry.

Harry blinked twice, mouth dropping slightly agape. Why did he throw this party? He knew his intentions; he was proud of his daughter. He wanted to show her off to everyone he knew about how intelligent and well-rounded Beatrice was.

The girl continued speaking as if reading Harry’s train of thought.

“This is for you,” She spoke bitterly as if her tongue was left with an odd taste in her mouth. “Showing off a ‘trophy’ daughter who graduated with honours but that doesn’t matter, does it? Nothing I ever do will match what you’ve done.”

The accompanying laugh—albeit, sarcastic— left Harry confused.

“What? No, this is for you. I’m proud of you,” Harry quickly disagreed with Beatrice, gesturing his large hands in a wave to emphasize his words.

She turned around with gentle disbelief; her features were hardened yet Beatrice’s eyes gleamed with hope. She wanted so badly to believe her dad, but his lack of attentiveness to her led Beatrice to roll her eyes at him instead.

“Cut the crap, Dad,”

“Language,” Harry added, pursing his lips when Beatrice scoffed.

“I can’t believe this,” Beatrice muttered, she stared at the ground as if picking out the words to say.

As bad as it sounded, she wanted to hurt her dad the way he did to her. Years of being treated like an unwanted child slowly built up inside of her and Beatrice wanted the pain to end.

“You wanted to be everything so bad that you forgot to be my Dad,”

“I am your dad, Tris,” Harry watched as she walked over to her desk. Fingers cascading the glass picture frame which held a still of their family.

“Don’t you think I know that?” Beatrice turned around, throwing the edged frame on her bed in a fit of anger.

Harry’s brows shot up to his forehead, watching his daughter’s eyes well up with tears.

“You are my dad but you’ve never been one to me! Why is that? Huh?” Beatrice pressed, crossing her arms and digging her fingernails on the skin of her bicep.

“I’m sorry that I took those opportunities away from you. You got movie deals, You had an album coming out. Tours, shows, money—you had everything and I ruined it, didn’t I? As you said, it would’ve been better if I wasn’t born,”

Harry was no stranger to not interrupting someone when they spoke. However, he couldn’t let Beatrice believe the words she spoke.

“Don’t say that! That’s not true,” He stuttered over his words, heart-shattering under the weight of Beatrice’s truthfulness. Sure, he had everything, but it didn’t mean that he was satisfied.

“But you thought about it right? You wondered how different it would be if I wasn’t born at the wrong time. Maybe you would’ve loved me more—like you do Caleb and Ruby,” Beatrice smiled sadly.

She was glad that at least her siblings would not have to experience the searing pain of being unappreciated. They did not deserve to be seen through like a ghost.

“Maybe you would’ve paid more attention to me. Maybe you would have cared that I was hurting every time you showed me nothing but disdain,”

Beatrice used her forearm to wipe away the tears beginning to soak her reddened cheeks. She sighed, plopping down at the foot of her bed, watching Harry look at her with an unreadable emotion on his face.

“You know, It’s not my responsibility to ask why,” Beatrice whispered. Though, she wondered what would have happened if she did question her dad why he looked at her as if she was a burden in his life.

Beatrice’s monologue crescendoed as utter pain cracked her voice every now and then. Her figure slouching as she truly experienced what it was like to let go of the turmoiled affliction soaring through her body.

“I’m your child! You’re the one who’s supposed to be looking out for me. You’re the one who’s supposed to show me what love is supposed to feel like. I’ve always wondered how you’d react if I came home with a boyfriend like all the movies and books talk about. But, all you’ve shown and made me feel was my first heartbreak when you’re supposed to be the one nursing me from it,”

At that point, Harry could not remain the eye contact he shared with his daughter, gazing down at the floorboard in shame.

“You were supposed to scare guys off because I’m your eldest daughter. You’re supposed to protect me from everything that could hurt me, even when it’s irrational because that is what Dads do,”

That same bitter laugh that pierced Harry’s ears earlier echoed again.

“But I guess you never really wanted to become one to begin with. Or maybe just not with me.”

Harry took a few steps back. Her words figuratively churned and twisted his gut. He caught his balance on the doorknob that moved feverishly under his weight. Sure, he didn’t want to be her dad at first. And he had many chances to fix a strained relationship, but he never took them. So really, he had no shield at denying the truth. He was simply a father who failed to be the dad to Beatrice.

“I-I do! I want to be--if you'd let me,” He hated the way his voice became weary.

Despite their differences, Beatrice and Harry both mutually hated the way his tone pinched. The way he had to plead and beg for his daughter’s forgiveness when it seemed to be too late. This could have been avoided if Harry took the chance to become the dad that Beatrice deserved to have. The dad that her siblings--Caleb and Ruby--saw and spent time with while Beatrice watched behind, wondering why she was never treated the way they did.

“For years, I wondered what was wrong with me. I listened to the music that you liked. I asked mum what you enjoyed doing because you never talk to me. I wanted you to see me as a daughter instead of this--this invisible speck that you shrug off your shoulder every time I needed you!” Beatrice cried out, hugging herself for comfort.

The worst part was that she could see Harry’s legs buckle in hesitation to come closer to her or not. He shouldn’t even have to think to comfort his daughter, but he did.

“I wanted you to like me as if I even have to do that in the first place! You’re my dad, don’t you get it? Because I didn’t. I spent so much time being the perfect child in hopes of you giving me an ounce of your attention aside from the face you put on when I walked into the room. Why did you have to treat me this way, huh?”

Tears spilled from her forest-green eyes, identical to Harry’s glazed ones. His mouth parted in retaliation. As if he was plopped in quicksand, Harry had no idea how to defend himself.

“I know that you didn’t want me in the first place but--,” Beatrice sniffled, wiping the salty liquid to her damp temples, “I just wished you treated me like I wasn’t a burden to you,”

_____

#harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles angst #Harry styles fan fic #Harry styles fanfiction

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wifeboys · 3 years ago

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Third Time’s the Charm // Wilmon

Summary: Wilhelm kisses Simon three times before he gets the hint.

Word Count: ~2600

A/N: A little in-universe fic to tie us over. Based on prompts from this prompt list *shamelessly plugs my prompts blog @deity-prompts *. Also I haven’t written fanfiction is a while so I’m a little rusty.

gif credits: @princewilhelm

Wilhelm kisses Simon three times before he gets the hint.

The first time is at Rosh's soccer final. The pair (and Ayub) had gone to every single game of the season, rain, or shine. They stood at the side lines. The night air gripped them through their puffy coats. Flood lights illuminate their breaths. Wilhelm and Simon pressed shoulders to 'help keep them warm'.

The game is intense. The ball is sent over and back again and again. Fouls are left and right. Fights even break out. The crowd hold their breath, each moment electric. Simon is so focused on the game that he forgets where he is. He forgets who he's with and who he is. All he can concentrate on is Rosh.

The whistle blows, once, twice, three times. Rosh punches the air with a victorious scream. The crowd erupts. Everyone rushes onto the pitch. They clutch each other into hugs, exchanging "congratulations!" and kisses on the cheek. Simon sprints to Rosh, grabbing her tightly. She slaps his back and yells something he can't hear. Ayub pushes him out of the way and hugs Rosh. Simon staggers back with a laugh. Wilhelm is in front of him. His eyes sparkle with happiness and Simon can't help but smile. Before he can hug him, Wilhelm places his hands on Simons cheeks and quickly kisses him. The kiss barely lasts two seconds, but time seems to freeze. Simon short-circuits.

Before he can process or kiss him back, Wilhelm is already hugging someone else and Ayub is grabbing Simon. "SHE DID IT! FUCKING YEAH!" The night moves on. Everyone goes out to celebrate, still full of energy until they part in the early hours. As Simon celebrates, he can't help but think about Wilhelm kissing him. Did he kiss him or did he imagine it? No, it definitely happened. He can't imagine the electricity pulsing through him. He can't imagine the rush and heat he felt.

But that doesn't mean Wilhelm wanted to kiss him. It was an intense game. Everyone was celebrating. It was probably just a "hey bro, we did it! let's celebrate!" kiss. Wilhelm would've kissed anyone, Simon just happened to be there.

That's what Wilhelm is acting like. He's hugging everyone he comes across. Simons not sure if that's because Wilhelm is a hugger or because he's buzzed on celebratory drinks. Either way, he's not treating Simon any different. He's still talking to him like they're regular bros who like regular sports and other regular things.

It was nothing, Simon decides.

• ❤︎ •

The second time is at Felice's birthday party. She spares no expense. The common room is decked with streamers, balloons, and stocked with alcohol. Everyone is wearing the most extravagant outfits they have. The birthday girl has braided her hair short as a boys, and wears a purple robe that reaches her heels. Simon wears a black, glittery blazer over his bare chest with waist high black trousers. The lack of shirt was probably a good idea, considering people keep bumping into him and spilling their drinks.

The music is practically deafening. You can't walk two steps without knocking shoulders with someone. Simon keeps to the back of the room, fiddling with the hem of his blazar as the party unfolds in front of him. Sara keeps him company, chatting his ear off about something he can't hear. The only thing he can focus on is a certain prince across the room.

Simon barely notices when Sara tugs at his sleeve. "Si! I'm going to find Felice. Don't just stand here for the whole night. Go talk to someone"

She disappears into the sea of drunk teenagers. There's no way Sara was telling him to go talk to Wilhelm specifically, but that's all Simon wants to do. Actually, he wants to skip the talking and pin Wilhelm against the wall.

But Simon can't do it. He's glued with his back against a wall as people make out around him. He can't mess things up with Wilhelm. He can't scare him off. He can't lose a great friend on the tiny chance he might get a boyfriend. Simon repeats this like a mantra to the beat of the music.

None of this stops him checking out Wilhelm, the crowd acting as a safety buffer. His simple yellow shirt is plain considering the occasion. He made up for it by covering his hair with glitter that has fallen onto his face and shoulders.

He watches as an already tipsy Wilhelm finishes his drink. He's surrounded by people (probably his friends). He suddenly cracks up at some joke they say. Glitter explodes into the air with the quick movement of his head. A shiny halo illuminates his face. God, he's beautiful when he laughs.

"Simon! Simon Simon Simon" Felice nearly falls on top of him. "I'm so glad you're here- and you look amazing"

"Thanks, so do you- and happy birthday" Simon has never been good at taking compliments.

"You're too kind. I'll admit, I can't get enough of my cape. Hey, you should try it on! Purple is definitely your colour"

"Oh no I couldn't-"

"Oh yes you could. Let's swap jackets. I promise I'll give it back"

Next thing Simon knows, Felice is slipping off her cloak-y thing to reveal a white blouse and black skirt. She takes Simon's jacket, even giving him a spin. "We look stunning" she says as Simon wraps her robe around him. It looks a bit weird on him, but it's soft and smells nice. Felice sips her drink, and frowns. "My cup is empty. Can I get you a drink?"

"Uh- sure"

Felice disappears into the crowd. Simon goes back to looking for Wilhelm, but he's nowhere to be seen. He scans the crowd carefully. Wow, there's a lot of people here. A lot of bodies. The air is thick. The music is too loud. The room is too small. Simon needs to get out.

He excuses his way towards the door, not stopping until he's breathing in the night air. He leans next to the door, careful to keep Felice's robe clean. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Simon can only handle parties for a short while before he needs a break.

He stares up at the sky. Deep breath in, deep breath out. The stars are like glitter. The moon shines brightly at him. Deep breath in. He can't find Wilhelm, but at least he can spot the Man In The Moon. Deep breath out.

He's grounded again. He knows he should go home soon, but he figures a bit longer inside wont hurt. He gets up to go inside and find Felice when the door swings open. A yellow shirt stumbles into the night, glitter sparkling in the moonlight.

Simon finally found Wilhelm- or, rather, Wilhelm found him.

Wilhelm finds his footing, looking around. He finally spots Simon by the door.

"There you are!" He exclaims. There I am?

If Simon moves fast enough, he can slip back inside before Wilhelm even notices him. He can grab Sara and pretend he never came to the party. Before he can put his plan into effect, Wilhelm is cupping his face again.

Wilhelm kisses him. Simon is quicker to react this time. He kisses back, his plan to escape already forgotten. Wilhelm pulls back for a moment to tilt his head to the side. Simon holds the back of his neck, running his fingers through his hair. Glitter falls around them.

Wilhelm's hands slip behind Simon's robe, pulling him closer. Simon shivers as his hands run up and down his back. He drowns in bliss, finally getting to kiss Wilhelm the way he always wanted to.

When Wilhelm finally pulls back, his eyes stay closed. "Oh" he sighs softly. "Oh . . . I'm about to throw up. Excuse me"

Without even looking at Simon, Wilhelm turns and staggers around the corner. Simon hears retching. His escape plan kicks in. He practically runs back into the party, nearly knocking people over as he finds Felice.

He finds her giggling with Sara, who's cheeks are blushes deep red. They swap their clothes back, re-completing Felice's outfit. She truly looks stunning, tonight more than ever. Up close, her hair is woven more intricately than he realised. It's as short as his but looks ten times better.

Oh God- with the short hair and purple cloak, he probably looks just like Felice. Especially to someone who's drunk. Wilhelm didn't mean to kiss him. He meant to kiss Felice. Now Simon feels like he's going to throw up.

• ❤︎ •

The third time is after Parents Day. Simon spent the days leading up to it avoiding Wilhelm. He probably doesn't remember the kiss at all but Simon wont chance it. He won't give Wilhelm the opportunity to reject him. This doesn’t stop him from looking at him for a little too long from across the room. This doesn’t stop Wilhelm looking back.

His ingenious “if I ignore him he can’t reject me” plan fails, however, when Wilhelm sits with his family as they eat. Simon can't take his eyes off him as he chats with Simon and Felice's family. Wilhelm combs his fingers through his hair, licks his lips, laughs along to jokes. Simon soaks up every minute of it.

Dinner plates empty. Belts are loosened. Waiters come around to collect dishes and Simon starts to panic. Wilhelm has been glancing at him again and again throughout the dinner. He's definitely going to corner Simon and let him down. Tell him to forget all about the kiss (if he even remembers it). Simon pulls out his phone.

Simon I need you to pick me up

Ayub Thought you were at the parents dinner Cant ur mom take u home?

Simon I'll explain later If you pick me up right now I'll be forever grateful

Ayub I'll be outside in ten You owe me one

Simon I love you more than life itself

Simon rests his phone on the table, slightly less panicked. As soon as people start getting to their feet, he bolts. Out the door. Our of the school. He only slows when his feet crunches on the front road's gravel.

Ayub arrives right on time. Simon jumps on his bike before he can ask what's going on. It isn't until the next day that Simon comes to a shocking realisation: he left his phone at Hillerska.

• ❤︎ •

"Didn't think I'd be back here so soon" Ayub says as he drops Simon off.

"I'll be in and out, I promise. Everyone's gone home so I'll be able to find it and grab it"

"Here, call yourself on my phone. You can follow the ringing"

"Where would I be without you"

Ayub tosses his phone and gestures for Simon to go. He pushes open the doors. Hillerska feels haunted without students bustling through the halls. It's like a museum. Simon opens Ayub's phone and calls himself.

It's probably in the dining room where they ate. He walks towards it, listening intently for his ringtone. What he doesn't expect is for someone to pick up.

“Hello?”

Simon stares at the phone for a moment before pressing it to his ear. ". . . Hello?"

“Simon? That you?”

“Wille!" Perfect. The one person he was trying to not talk to. "Sorry, I didn’t recognise your voice”

"Don't worry about it, I don't think you were expecting me to answer"

"Yeah, uh, you have my phone. That's why I was calling it. I must've left it here yesterday"

"Where are you? I can drop it off"

"I'm already at Hillerska so I can just grab it. Want me to come to you?"

"Just start walking, we'll find each other"

Simon decides to go in the general direction of Wilhelm's dorms. It really does feel like a museum. Each alcove is like a display he can't touch. His footsteps echo.

“So . . . what’re you doing with my phone?” Simon asks.

“I actually didn’t know it was yours. It was left on one of the tables, so I took it in case the owner came looking for it”

“And here I am”

“And here you are”

Simon can't help but smile. He's sure he can hear Wilhelm smiling too.

Wilhelm takes a deep breath. “I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you”

“Talk to me?”

“Yeah. Um . . . it's about Felice's party"

Simon stops. Here it is. Everything has backfired and now the one thing he didn't want to talk about has come up.

"Simon? You there?"

"Yes! Uh yes I am." He rubs a hand across his face. Play it cool. "What about her party?"

"I'm sorry that I was so drunk that night. I figured I'd need some . . . liquid courage but I guess I had too much"

"Yeah. It was a uh, a wild night" Simon feels like he's choking on his own heart. He distracts himself by looking around at the hallway. He's not even sure where in the school he is. He's more focused on not throwing up.

"Do you remember that night?"

Play it cool. "Anything specific you want me to remember?"

There's a moment of silence. Simon can hear Wilhelm's footsteps through the phone. "If you want to forget that night and move on like nothing happened, we can definitely can"

Simon doesn't want to forget. It's all he can think about.

"Do you want to forget about it?" Simon asks, swallowing.

Wilhelm's walking slows as he thinks. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable"

"I don't . . . I wasn't uncomfortable"

There's a beat. "I'm glad. That-that you weren't uncomfortable"

"I'm a little uncomfortable now" Simon laughs awkwardly. His tension eases a little when Wilhelm laughs too.

"I'm sorry. I just don't know how to talk about this" Simon kicks his feet against the floor.

"I have to say, I didn't think I'd be talking to you about this over the phone"

"I didn't think you'd want to talk about this at all. I thought you were going to avoid me forever"

"Hey, you're the one who was avoiding me"

"Yeah yeah I know" Simon smiles.

Wilhelm takes a deep breath and exhales. "I really wanted to kiss you that night. That's why I got so drunk I needed a confidence boost. It uh, it didn't help that you ignored the kiss at Rosh's game"

Simon's jaw drops in a smile. "I didn't ignore it! I just panicked. I figured it was a spur of the moment celebration"

"None of it was spur of the moment. I've wanted to kiss you for a while"

"You have?"

"You didn't notice?"

"Not at all. If I did, I probably would've kissed you"

Simon hears him stop and smile. “Simon, you are the smartest idiot I ever met”

He hangs up. He hangs up? Simon looks at the phone as if it holds the answer. His brow furrow as a hand grabs his shoulder from behind. He turns, that there he is.

"Hi" they say in unison.

Wilhelm's hands are on Simon's shoulders. He holds his gaze with a smile. Simon completely forgets how to breathe. All he can think about his Wilhelm being so close to him and his lips being right there because really they're right there-

"Can I kiss you again?" Wilhelm asks. Simon nods.

Wilhelm kisses him for the third time. It's hesitant- like he's testing the waters to see if Simon is willing to swim. Before he can pull away, Simon yanks him back in. His hands thread through Wilhelm's hair as Wilhelm wraps his arms around his waist. They pull each other impossibly close. It's their third-first-kiss and it is perfect.

#wilhelm x simon #young royals #wilmon fanfiction #wilmon fanfic #wilhelm x Simon fanfiction #wilhelm x Simon fanfic #young royals fanfic #edvin ryding #omar rudberg

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comfortwriting · 4 years ago

Text

Best Friends Brother Part 5 - G.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompt Masterlist

George Weasley x Fem Reader

Part 5 of my 'Best Friend's brother' series, Please Read Parts 1, 2, 3, and 4 if you haven't already.

Want to be tagged? Let me know!

Warnings: Swearing, Mention of food and eating.

Holding onto the photo album you opened it, expecting to see pictures but you were met with nothing but empty spaces.

"I've bought this for us," George said softly "I want us to fill this with pictures, we need to make up for the three months we've been together with no photographs to show for it."

You felt your heart enlarge and flush your body with warm blood, your veins pumping it throughout your body, getting high on the feeling of this happiness - this love.

"Oh, George..."

Hearing a door opening and footsteps up above, creaking down the stairs, your face and George's dropped.

"Hide!" He mouthed, snatching the photo album from you.

Quickly rolling off the sofa and crouching on the ground with your head staring at the floor, you quickly hid behind the chair Arthur would sit in when he wasn't messing around in his tool shed. The footsteps grew closer and closer, George hid the photo album under a pillow and the blanket and tried his best to appear awaking from a deep sleep.

Yawning and stretching, he looks over to his younger brother Ron, searing through the cupboards for some snacks.

"What are you doing up?" Ron whispered, noticing George from across the room.

"Could as you the same thing, mate." George shot back lowly.

"I'm hungry," Ron replied "What's your bloody excuse?"

"Fred won't shut up snoring," George rolled his eyes, "If you're looking for leftovers you'd be smart and check the fridge."

Ron mimicked George talking but looked in the fridge anyway, pulling out some strips of cooked bacon from earlier, stuffing it in his mouth as he wiped the grease on his pajamas.

You peeked out from the chair and watched, your heart thumped so hard you could hear it in your ears, what were you thinking?! You were being too risky, sharing glances and meeting up whilst everyone was sleeping - you'd be lucky to escape tonight without being noticed.

"Well, since I'm going back up you probably should too if you're that bloody tired."

"But Fred's snoring," George reminded him "I won't get any shut-eye all night."

Ron shrugged "Punch him in the nose or wake him up and get him to turn over."

Having no excuse to object, George had to comply, he slowly got up from the sofa, making sure not to accidentally drop the photo album, as he followed Ron up the stairs, mouthing a 'sorry!' to you on the way up.

Breaking out from the shadows, you tiptoed from behind the chair and retrieved your present from George, holding it close to your heart as you sneaked back into Ginny's room, making sure not to wake her or Hermione up.

The next morning, you and George were too tired to join in the regular morning banter across the kitchen table, but you both tired and put maximum effort in any way, but you were caught off guard whilst swallowing down some toast.

"Were you alright last night Y/N?" Hermione asked, sipping some orange juice.

You knitted your eyebrows together "Yeah? Why wouldn't I be?"

Hermione put down her glass, everyone else continued to eat and drink.

"Well," she sighed "I woke up during the night and you were there, you were gone for quite a while and I know that after Penny you..."

You choked on your toast, widening your eyes as Ron's glance quickly landed on you.

After Penny's death, you would wake up during the night and early hours of the morning and panic when Penny had not arrived from her hunt, you were so in denial about her death this became a bad habit for a little over a year.

Crying in the common room, you collapsed in front of the fire, waiting for your owl with hot tears streaming down your face, George walked in from a late-night prank and saw your head in your hands, hurrying to your side.

"Y/N, what's wrong?" he held you close to him, pulling you away from the flames in case you fell forwards.

"I forgot she was gone," you sobbed "Penny, she's gone, and I keep thinking she's coming back."

"Oh, yeah!" you nodded "I haven't done that for a while, I think I must've forgotten again..." you trailed off, staring at your plate, feeling other eyes on you.

"But you've got that new low haven't you?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah," you smiled "he helps but he's only an owlet."

"Where did you get him anyway? He's beautiful." Ginny smiled, staring at him and his small feathers.

Think. Think.

"My mum and dad finally decided to get me him after months of desperate letters."

That's a good enough lie.

"Well, at least it wasn't because of someone snoring." Ron butted in, "Apparently you were at it all night, Fred."

Now it was George's time to choke.

"What?" Fred pulled a sour face, glaring at Ron "I don't snore! You can bloody ask Angelina!"

"Not according to George, he was sleeping down here you were that bad." Ron shuffled more food onto his plate.

Fred stared at his twin, pissed off that he lied about him without asking or telling him first.

Why is he lying? What is going on? Why would he need to sleep downstairs?

"Sorry mate," George smiled sheepishly "Didn't want to crumble your ego."

Everyone but Fred continued to eat their breakfasts, he started to go through everything that happened earlier on that seemed out of place - how could everyone push this aside despite that is going on?

"Well?" Asked Fred, staring at his younger brother who walked out of the owlery.

Ron shook his head with an annoyed expression on his face "She's not there" he replied.

"I wish you had that map, you know, you should nick it from him when he's sleeping."

"I would" replied Fred "but he clutches to it when he sleeps."

Throughout the day, Fred gravitated closer to Ron, whispering to him, warning him about you and George - how things don't add up, how something much more is going on. Ron denied it at first, but the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to find out the truth, even if it meant catching you both together.

"I'm telling you, there's something going on," Fred grumbled, helping Ron and with the garden Gnomes whilst you and George helped Arthur across the field.

"Well, how are we going to catch them?" Ron grumbled, soil getting in his hair, "Do you think she was down there with him last night?"

Fred fell back, his clothes now like Ron's hair, coated in soil. Brushing it off and kicking a gnome he sighed "Well, we'll just have to wait downstairs for them tonight."

"And what if we don't catch them?"

Fred hesitated for a moment "We'll keep trying until we do, we need to make Ginny and Hermione aware too - we won't be able to know if she's left the room unless they tell us."

Stepping out of the bath and drying yourself off, wrapping a towel around you, you leave the bathroom, and bump into George who was standing there the whole time, desperate to get a moment alone with you.

"Y/N, we need to talk, quickly - now."

Your cheeks went red and started to burn, George had never seen you in little clothing before, but you knew now wasn't the time for either of you to have stars in your eyes - George sounded urgent, and he was always laid back.

Following George into his room, he quickly shut the door behind him and pushed a chair against the door, if he did any magic he could count on his mum shouting at him to come downstairs at once.

"They're onto us," George freaked, sitting on the bed putting his head in his hands.

You sighed and sat next to him, gripping your towel in place with one hand, whilst stroking his hair with the other.

"We both knew this wasn't going to be easy," you chewed your lip nervously, "but that doesn't mean we can't get through it."

"What are we going to do?" George stopped pressing his eyes against his palms and looked into your eyes, his worried-filled ones boring into you "It's obvious we can't sneak downstairs."

You stayed quiet for a moment, shifting through your thoughts and ideas, "Well, we'll just have to meet up outside the house. We both leave and come back at different times, so you leave before me, and I'm back when you're already going to sleep."

"The sun doesn't go down here until very late out, it gets cold, and I don't want you to-"

Cutting George off, you went through his drawers, pulling out an oversized, fluffy hoodie.

"Freeze to death?" you smirked, throwing it to him "I'll wear this if you fetch it."

George swallowed hard, the windows of opportunities started to close one by one, and the finish line of your relationship started to get closer and closer, only making his heart more eager and desperate to claim you as his own.

"Tonight?" he asked softly "What time?"

Planting a small peck on George's head, you walked over to his bedroom door, "wait for my owl, when he goes out to hunt, that's when."

Slipping out of George's bedroom, you hurried into Ginny's searching through your trunk to find some clean clothes.

Just as you were going into Ginny's room, Ron, Fred, Ginny, and Hermione sat downstairs coming up with a plan to dismantle your happiness - Ron felt betrayed, and at this moment, he didn't care if you hated him afterward - you fell for his older brother, something you promised you would never do.

"Since when did you know my brothers?" Ron piped up, mouth full of food.

Hermione grimaced at him, packing away her study books "Ron! Swallow your food first, don't be so foul!"

You shrugged "In the Owlery, they're really nice-"

"No, they bloody are not!"

"Ron, relax, it's not like I fancy them-"

Ron shuffled "well, everyone else does, and you better not."

You raised your hands up in defense "I won't! I promise!"

taglist: @amourtentiaa @alwaysnforeverfangirl @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @horrorxweasley @carisi-sonny @g0ldenwanda @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @sebby-staan @xmalfoyweasleyx

#george weasley #george weasley one shot #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fanfic #george weasley imagine #Fred and George #fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley imagine #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter angst #weasley twins #ron weasley #THE GOLDEN TRIO

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writerpeach · 4 years ago

Text

Club Mimosa - [Ch. 6] Dangerous

---

Read on AFF

Read on AO3

There was a lot to love about Tokyo’s winter season.

Barren trees swayed after being kissed by frost after the season’s first snowfall, making the entire city more beautiful as ever. The ground beneath your feet looked pristine as a thin soft white sheet blanketed the streets.

Tokyo looked and felt like an entirely new city during winter.

Perhaps your favorite part was the reduced crowds. Taking a subway to anywhere within city limits no longer felt like you were fighting for air to breathe with a hundred different strangers.

You loved the way the cool crisp air felt on your skin every time you left your apartment and the way you could visibly see your breath lingering in the air.

Winter was your favorite season, you anticipated it more each year since you could take public transportation and easily enjoyed it without worrying. Cold temperatures were your companion, and you welcomed the season with open arms.

The season also marked your third year living in Japan.

Culture shock became less of a shock and something you grew accustomed to. There was hardly any food you couldn’t eat without trouble. You had tried all sorts of delicacies that would have been seen as “weird” back in the west, and while you didn’t enjoy them all you never regretted experiencing them all.

Your favorite thing about Tokyo outside of its attractive women, delicious food, and incredible culture was the club that had become your second home. Club Mimosa was your favorite place to spend both your free time and money. Your name was known throughout the establishment from flirty hostesses to managers, to the sexy ladies behind the bar serving stiff drinks.

But there was still one person that hadn’t managed to meet you yet.

Minatozaki Sana.

Momo painted a vivid picture of her, but you hadn’t seen her in the club. You didn’t know what she looked like, what she acted like, you knew nothing but what Momo had described.

You got updates sent from Momo every couple of days, letting you know how things were progressing. Slowly, it seemed, which wasn’t surprising. It wasn’t easy, even with years of experience under her belt there were a plethora of things unaccounted for, hostesses to train, management to find, equipment to gather. Even with a small team helping her there was a lot to do. Momo was going to be staying in Kyoto for quite a while it seemed.

Japan was a relatively small country comparatively, but even on a one-way trip on a bullet train, you were looking at over two hours, which was hard to justify even to see such a beautiful woman as Momo. You kept in contact over the phone and video chat, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss those late nights with her, screaming each other’s names so loud you were afraid the neighbors were going to knock at her door.

That’s where Club Mimosa came in.

You had needs. Everyone had needs, and if those needs were talking to gorgeous women in expensive tight dresses for hours on end, well then, those needs were easily satisfied.

Those needs were harder without Momo there, sitting inches away from you, close enough to smell her perfume while she sipped on her drink and munched on whatever meat was on the menu.

You had spent time away from the club, feeling the distance away from Momo more than you thought you would. But if you trusted anyone to offer a suitable replacement it would be one Hirai Momo.

It all felt familiar to you as you stepped off the subway and walked into the snow-covered streets of Tokyo, feeling less smothered by the crowds thankfully. You could see the bright lights a mile away as if it’s neon lights were calling for you personally.

You entered the club and the first thing you noticed was everything seemed louder. You were surrounded by familiar faces and sounds and an atmosphere that could only be described as alive.

“Welcome back to Club Mimosa, sir!”

You didn’t know how you felt about being a regular in a place where you were liable to spend way too much money in one night, but there were worse problems to have.

“Do you have anyone specific you'd like to request? Or would you like us to find someone for you, sir?”

You hesitated before making your choice of words carefully.

“I’d like to request Minatozaki Sana,” you said. The manager looked at you like you’d just summoned something unstoppable.

“I”m sorry, sir, but she is no longer an active-”

“It’s fine, I’ve been expecting him.”

You didn’t know where the voice came from, but her words were like honey slowly dripping out of a bottle, every syllable full of seduction.

Stepping out of the shadows was the owner of said voice, a stunning young woman who took your breath away at first sight. Her hair was blonde, her legs were long, and her curves were deadly. Minatozaki Sana was an absolutely perfect woman. Her dress was tighter and shorter than anything Momo ever wore, as if she wanted to show her up now that she wasn’t here.

Momo saying she had a body to die for was putting it lightly and didn't do her justice.

“About time you showed up,” she giggled, placing her hands on her hips. “Momo has told me a lot about you.”

“Hopefully not too much, Miss Minatozaki,” you replied.

“Oh, you can just call me Sana, I’m sure Momo has her secrets. A woman never tells everything. Now, where should we take you? A normal booth won’t do, and you’ve already defiled - I mean visited our VIP booth…”

It was hard to find a response to that as your cheeks reddened.

“Yuki-chan!” Sana called over.

“Yes, Minatozaki-San?”

“Are the karaoke rooms occupied?”

“No, they haven’t been used all day. They were just freshened up this morning.”

“Perfect, thank you, Yuki-chan. Now, if you’ll follow me…”

When Sana asked you to follow her you didn't dare refuse, as she led you down a separate hallway you'd never seen before, her fill hips swaying with every step.

"After you," Sana said as she held the door open, leading you into one of the few rooms in the place you hadn't been in before.

Red couches lined the walls of the large karaoke room, spacious enough to accommodate several people. The focus of the room was the big mounted screen centered between two dark marble tables, large speakers, colorful lighting filled the room.

"Usually these rooms are used for multiple clients wanting more than one hostess, but I'll have you all to myself in here," Sana said flirtatiously, gesturing for you to take a seat.

"So, what does Momo's favorite client like to drink?" Sana asked as she sat down to your right, flashing a hint of a mischievous smile.

“Favorite?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, she hasn’t specifically said that, but I could see it in the way she talks about you,” Sana replied, biting the tip of her finger.

“And what does Momo say about me?”

“It’s not polite to ask a lady to reveal her secrets,” Sana teased, scooting closer to your body.

“But she does say you’re cute and charming, and that you have a nice body. I can certainly vouch for the first two, but the third, I’m not quite sure yet.”

There was a lot you could tell just from a person’s smile, and Sana’s smile was the cutest thing you’d ever seen. You could tell Sana wasn’t like the other hostesses, as cliche as that might be to say. While she had an immeasurable amount of sex appeal, there was an equal amount of cuteness mixed in that swirled together to create one incredible package of a woman.

“I think I’m okay with water for now,” you told Sana nonchalantly. This was your first meeting and you didn’t want to overdo it, surprised at how comfortable you felt around her already, not a hint of nerves.

“Water it is,” she replied as she got up and fetched two bottles of water out of a nearby glass cooler that you had somehow completely missed.

“Oh. I could have just gotten it myself,” you said with a hint of embarrassment.

Sana sat back down and shook her head as she handed you a bottle, grasping the other in her small hands.

“It’s my job to take care of you,” Sana said as she tilted her head back and opened her mouth, carefully letting water pour out without letting the bottle touch her lips. Even drinking water Sana looked incredibly sexy, although you sensed she was doing this on purpose.

The one thing you quickly realized about Sana was her vast experience. While Momo had confidence in her veins, she had her rare moments of awkwardness or when she suddenly turned nervous and stumbled over her words after something had been said.

But Sana, you could tell she had been doing this for more than just a few years. While you’d become a regular at the club, you felt at times you needed to pick your words carefully during a conversation, while Sana’s words flowed out of her lips automatically.

“So, Sana. Since you know a lot about me, tell me about yourself,” you said after a moment's pause. You were still so awkward with meeting new women, but you didn’t want this to come off as an interview. Sana could sense your own awkwardness, but her gaze calmed you down.

“Hm, where to start,” Sana said, running a hand through her silky golden locks.

“This is my sixth year as a hostess here. Although I’m not really a hostess anymore, I mostly train new girls and help run the place,” Sana said, keeping her gaze towards you.

“Sounds like you’ve put in a lot of work.”

“I have. We had a rough patch this year, but we made it through. I’ve been here since the beginning when we only had two hostesses besides me. Back then we struggled to get five customers a week, barely making enough money to keep the lights on. I ate a lot of ramen that first year.”

“And now look at this place. You’re the most popular club in Tokyo, and you’re opening a second location. You must be swimming in money.”

Sana smiled shyly. “I have Momo to thank for that. She volunteered to help run it, at least until everything is running smoothly. I miss her.”

“I do too,” you said, the words came out of your mouth before you had realized what you were saying.

“She told me you recruited her to come here?” you asked.

“That’s right. We met at university. We had different majors but ended up seeing each other almost every day. She needed extra money for tuition and I was already working here at the time, so I suggested she join me and put in a good word.”

“The rest is history as they say.”

“It is. God, she was so shy back then, she could barely look a man in the eyes. She spilled a drink her first shift and she was so clumsy for the first month. She almost quit the first week, but I convinced her to stay. And now she’s the most popular and requested girl.”

“That’s quite a success story.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less out of our Momo.”

Sharing glances with Sana you fumbled for words to say to break the awkward silence.

“Just talk to me like you’ve talked to Momo,” she said, and you abruptly felt her hand rubbing your thigh as she maintained eye contact.

“I don’t bite,” Sana said with a grin on her lips. “Unless you want me to.”

You didn’t know if you felt more at ease or more nervous, but her smile convinced you it was the former.

“I’ve instructed everyone to leave us alone unless called for,” she said, her smile turning into a smirk.

“Momo left you all to myself to play with, and I don’t want any interruptions.”

“Play with?” you repeated.

“Yes,” she replied with a flirtatious giggle, running her delicate fingers through strands of her hair again. Sana’s ways of flirting were about as subtle as a trainwreck, but you didn’t mind her methods.

“You know, for a karaoke room we’re not doing much singing,” you said, changing the subject.

“You’re absolutely right,” Sana said, leaning forward to grab the heavy book on the table, flipping through it.

“What do you want to sing?” Sana asked.

“Me? I’m not much of a singer, you should choose,” you said, deflecting the choice. You were terrified by the thought of sharing a stage with a beautiful woman, you didn’t dare display your terrible lack of singing prowess.

“Hmm, I’m not sure what to pick,” Sana said, flipping through several pages at a time.

“Then just sing your favorite song,” you replied. Sana paused, thinking about what she wanted for a moment.

“I don’t really have a favorite song,” she said, shaking her head as you furrowed an eyebrow.

“Everyone has a favorite song. Maybe something you’ve heard here a lot?”

“I hear a lot of songs here. There was this really cute song that I always sang during the first year I started here…” Sana said as she tilted her head, fingers fumbling through pages.

“Ah, here it is!” Sana said with excitement, her eyes widening as she keyed in numbers into the giant remote. The monitor in front lit up in response, flashing a white screen as the song started playing on the giant display. Sana stood with both hands on the mic, anticipating the start of the music.

The first notes were cheerful and bright as Sana sang along to every note of the bubblegum pop song, still remembering every lyric as if the song were personally her own. You had recognized the song, perhaps heard it during your time in the country in a mall or on tv. It was the perfect karaoke song, catchy and fun, and easy to sing.

Her duality here was something else. She even seemed to know all the choreography, all though it was rather simple. Her arms and legs moved in time with the rhythm and you were amazed at her still being able to dance without missing a step with such high heels on. With such full movements, singing such a cute song while wearing a tight dress that was designated to arouse was such a striking contrast.

Sana was most enthusiastic during the chorus.

“Fly so high, follow me, follow me, follow me, follow me, baaaby,” Sana sang along happily, a smile etched across her face as she used exaggerated movements and mimicked what she saw on the screen.

The song winded down and faded out completely, as the score tallied towards the end. After several seconds of anticipation, numbers spun and spun until displaying her final score an impressively high 98.

"Wow, you're amazing,“ you said as Sana bowed and sat back down, taking another swig of water as she handed you the microphone.

"I may have had a little training before I became a hostess. It wasn’t working out so I decided to apply here instead.”

She turned her attention towards you, mic still in hand.

“Your turn!”

Your expression betrayed your thoughts as you politely refused it, staring at it as if the object were suddenly lit on fire.

“You’re going to have to put a lot of alcohol in me if I’m going to start singing, Sana,” you said.

Sana pouted in response. ”Well then, I guess we better order a case,” she said. “But I won’t make you sing if you don’t want to.”

“Thank you, Sana.”

“Instead, I will ask you embarrassing personal questions,” she said, suddenly surprising you.

“Oh. That’s fair, I guess,” you replied, not exactly sure at what she was going to ask, but you figured it was a nice trade.

Sana didn’t waste any time wanting to get to the good stuff.

“When was the last time you and Momo…?” Sana asked, her voice trailed off deliberately as her eyebrow raised.

“Went on a date? A week before she left,” you confidently said.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Sana frowned.

“I don’t? What possibly could you mean then?” you teased.

“When’s the last time you know... You bent her over, pulled her hair, and made her scream?” Sana said, abruptly getting straight to the point.

She clearly wasn’t going to pull any punches. You took another sip from your water before attempting to answer.

“You really just expect me to kiss and tell just like that?”

“I do. I can't help that I'm nosy, " Sana giggled.

"Well, Momo never asked me to pull her hair, but the last time she and I got…intimate was the morning she left for Kyoto. In the shower."

"The shower, huh?" Sana repeated. “Some girls don’t like to admit they like their hair being pulled, but I think we all secretly love it.”

"I'm gonna need something alcoholic now," you said, embarrassed at your reveal.

"Coming right up," Sana said as she headed the intercom by the exit door.

"Send up the priciest bottle in the place!"

"Right away, Minatozaki-san!"

“Don’t worry, it’s on the house,” Sana said before you could voice any concern as she sat back down beside you.

"I always figured Momo was the vanilla type of girl," Sana said.

"Vanilla is still a good flavor.”

"There's nothing at all wrong with vanilla. But sometimes you want something a bit tastier."

There was a quick knock at the door, Sana voicing her approval to enter. The door swung open and a waiter walked in carrying a tray with several items, sitting everything down on the table and putting it in a bucket of ice.

"Please enjoy," the man said, bowing and leaving as quickly as he entered.

“Oh, we will,” Sana said as she opened the bottle. Putting a few ice cubes in each glass she filled them partway, handing you one as your glasses clinked.

"It’s been a while since I had a drink," you said, staring at the mysterious dark-colored liquid, swirling it around.

"Sip it, don’t down it.”

“Bottoms up,” you responded, putting the glass to your lips as you took your first taste. It wasn’t too strong, a mixture of sweet and sour, and a taste you quickly grew accustomed to.

“Well? How is it?” Sana asked, waiting for your review.

“It’s good. I was expecting it to be stronger by the way it looked.”

“We can’t get too carried away on our first meeting.”

“It’s really good.”

“Glad you like. Now, time for more questions!” Sana said, full of enthusiasm.

“I can’t wait,” you said half sarcastically.

“You don’t have to answer them if you don’t want to.”

“Okay.”

“What’s your favorite part of a woman?”

"Uhh," you quickly hesitated, sinking back into the couch before you could think of what to say, letting more alcohol into your system as you took another drink.

“Let me change up the question,” Sana said, getting off the couch as she hopped up onto the table in front, crossing her legs and leaned back, resting both hands behind her.

“What’s your favorite part of me?”

You were caught off guard as Sana practically presented herself to you like an art display. You tried to keep eye contact, not wanting your eyes to roam her perfect tight body as much as you liked to.

“It’s okay to look. It'd be rude if you didn’t,” Sana said, lips curling into that same sensual expression. You let out a deep breath as you respectfully looked at Sana’s body, taking a gander at her smooth milky skin, eyes wandering every curve of her deadly body.

“I don’t have nice big tits like Momo does,“ she said, a slight frown forming on her lips. “But I think I do pretty well in other departments.”

Sana uncrossed and re-crossed her legs, trying her best to bring out your arousal and you swear you caught a glimpse of something. It wasn’t going to take much. She was now the center of attention in the room, but you couldn’t help but feel like you were her prey, and she was a predator waiting for the right moment to strike.

“You’re dangerous, Sana,” you blurted out. She reacted immediately with that familiar smile.

“That’s not the first time I’ve been called that,” she said, adjusting the straps of her heel. “I never get tired of hearing it.”

Sana was closer to you than you realized, and you felt the temperature of the room heating up. You had spent plenty of time with hostesses at the same club, but something about Sana brought out something in you, something you couldn't understand. A mixture of nerves, excitement, and fear, like the first time you had asked a girl out.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Sana said, biting on the tip of her finger seductively as she straightened her posture.

“You’ll have to repeat it. I forgot it already,” you lied.

Sana knew you didn’t. “Tell me...what your favorite part of me is. What your favorite part of my body is,” she said, every word crystal clear as she stared into your eyes.

Honestly, how she expected you to answer her with just one thing was beyond you. You went for the classic, yet cliche response.

“I like your eyes.”

Sana was so taken aback by such a cheesy answer it took her a moment to find the words to respond.

“My eyes, huh?” she said, a chuckle alongside her answer. “That’s funny, because ever since I hopped up here you’ve looked at every part of my body but my eyes.”

Caught in the act. Who could you blame you though? You were being seduced expertly by a blonde vixen, you couldn’t have been expected to spend every second gazing at those brown beauties when the rest of her body was so delicious.

“I don’t mind though,” Sana said. “You’re paying to spend time with me, I’m not going to stop you from undressing me with your eyes.”

“Although I’d prefer it if you used your hands,” she said, biting her lip.

You nearly choked. Maybe dangerous was too generous of a word to describe her. But sometimes the rush of something or someone dangerous was worth the risk.

“You don't have to tell me, I’m pretty sure I can figure it out already,” she said, beaming with confidence.

“Oh, do you?” you asked, trying to call her bluff.

“I do,” Sana said, giving you one more deadly look, letting you see the color in her beautiful round eyes. In an instant, Sana’s legs parted and she spread them invitingly wide, leaving you with the perfect view between her thighs. Even better was the lack of any underwear underneath her tight dress, exposing her pink pussy that sucked the life out of you momentarily and left you breathless.

You tried to keep it together, even though you both knew Sana had the upper hand. Nothing could divert your gaze from in between her creamy naked thighs and the beautiful pink flesh of her gorgeous pussy, dripping with arousal from her actions already.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were flirting with me.”

“Maybe,” Sana said, still as playful as ever.

“Is that allowed, Miss Minatozaki?” you asked, falling back on formality.

“Of course it’s allowed. I help run this place, who’s going to stop me?” Sana replied nonchalantly. “As I said, it’s my job to take care of you.”

The room definitely grew infinitely hotter as Sana leaned forward, her legs still spread, and rested her hands on the inside of her inner thighs.

“You know, you’ve had a couple of drinks tonight,” Sana said. “But you must be starving. And what kind of hostess would I bet if I didn’t offer you anything to eat?”

If that wasn’t enough of an invitation, Sana hiked her dress up and spread her legs as wide as they could go.

“I am feeling pretty hungry,” you said, your mouth salivating at the pink flesh in between Sana’s spread thighs. “Aren’t there cameras here?” you asked, looking up at the ceiling.

“Yes, for your safety and mine. But I turned them off after I ordered our drinks,” Sana said, flashing a cheeky smile.

“You think of everything don’t you?”

“It’s my job to. Now, how about you bring that cute face over here and taste me.”

You didn’t need Sana to say another word as you scooted off the couch, resting on the edge of it, and tried to get comfortable.

Sana had already done most of the work for you, keeping her legs kept open as you touched her bare skin for the first time, feeling how smooth and soft it was as you ran your hands up her creamy thighs. Looking up for approval, Sana gave it immediately as you planted several kisses on the soft flesh of her inner thighs, earning a soft delicate moan for the first time.

Her breath hitched as you licked long stripes up her sensitive bare thighs, ending with wet kisses, looking up to see the reaction on Sana’s face and finding nothing but satisfaction.

“Are you going to tease me?” Sana asked.

“That depends. Do you like being teased, Sana?” you replied.

“I love being teased, but not here. You can tease me later when my hands are wrapped in your bedsheets. I’m warmed up enough,” Sana said, running a finger through her pink wet slit as held up her finger in the air, demonstrating her slick glistening in the light.

You were a bit disappointed. Part of you wanted to test Sana, to see how much she could take, to drive her absolutely crazy the same way you did Momo. But Sana was wired differently. She knew what she wanted and wasn’t scared to take the lead. Plus, you were about still in public, it was best not to dawdle.

That didn’t stop you from kissing Sana’s thighs one more time before you brought your mouth to her pretty pussy, licking against her wet slit in one slow long stroke. Sana moaned, a sound that was as pretty as it was needy as you repeated it, licking up and down her pussy several times as you had your first taste of Sana.

Sana tasted utterly delicious. If you had to describe her taste, it was a mixture of sweet with just a hint of tanginess to it, not unlike the expensive drink you had both indulged in. There was no doubt Sana tasted much better.

You wanted more of her taste as your tongue explored Sana’s silky wet folds, gathering up her nectar into your lips and ran your tongue aimlessly.

“That feels so good,” Sana moaned, running her fingers through the strands of your hair as your tongue roamed in between her thighs, wandering around her wet hole as if it wanted to get lost in her sensitive warm flesh.

You wanted more of Sana’s intoxicating taste, you wanted to taste as much of this sultry woman as you possibly could. Looking up at her satisfied expression, you licked through her cunt and latched your lips onto her clit, earning a mixture of whimpers and moans and the added pleasure of her warm thighs wrapping around your head, like a snake coiled around its victim and you were more than happy to be Sana’s prey.

It didn’t take long to turn Sana into what you wanted, a pretty squirming mess unable to control her movements on the karaoke room’s table. Her hips bucked as she tried to ride your face and you were thankful that the room you had chosen to devour her in was already designed to be soundproof.

“Mmm, fuck, that tongue is amazing,” Sana said as you felt both hands frantically pulling your hair harshly as you slurped on her swollen clit, trying to draw out more of her tasty juices.

The more you ate Sana up the louder she got, voicing her satisfaction. The louder she got the harder her thighs squeezed around your head, rubbing the sides of your face with her soft smooth skin. Her nectar quickly spread all over your lips and chin, coating your face with her essence.

“D-don’t stop, don’t fucking stop,” Sana cried out as you pushed her past her limits already, alternating between sucking and licking around her sensitive clit, and kept your eyes on her the entire time, watching her become an absolute writhing mess.

You could barely breathe but it didn’t become a concern, all you wanted at that moment was hearing Sana’s pleasure. You’d prefer being suffocated by her pussy and her aroma, patiently waiting for those three words that meant you had done everything right.

“I-I’m gonna cum!”

Perfect. With warmth surrounding your head and wetness spreading all over your face, you gave everything you had and feasted on Sana’s pussy, moving your tongue and lips together to obtain what Sana desperately needed.

The moment came quickly as Sana hit her peak. The competing sounds of your lips slurping around her clit and her loud erotic moans filled the small room as her juices bathed your face, the wetness already there intensifying. Her thighs violently trembled and her toes curled, her back arching as she held on to your head for dear life, hips bucking wildly and you did what you could to keep her centered on the table as she came all over you.

Sana was a beautiful mess during the entirety of her orgasm, and you loved watching every second of the pleasure that grew too much for her. Sana showered you in her sweet juices and you were happy to receive every drop. You kept the pressure on her clit until Sana couldn’t take anymore and pushed your face off her as you were able to breathe freely, wondering if it was worth the trade-off to not being smothered by her heavenly thighs.

You stared into the round glazed-over eyes of the gorgeous woman you had just pleasured to completion, gasping and breathing heavily and cleaned up her thighs of her stained juices, wanting to dive right back.

“Wow,” Sana said between heavy drawn-out breaths. “Momo was right, you really do know how to please a woman.”

“I do my best,” you responded, wiping the juices off your lips and chin and making a show out of licking your fingers clean.

“It helps when you taste as good as you do,” you said, causing the full pale cheeks of Sana’s face to blush.

The redness of her cheeks gradually faded, replaced by a mischievous smile as you waited for her next step was. It came right away as Sana lifted herself from on top of the table her backside was resting on. With the quickness of a cat, she climbed onto your lap and wrapped her hands around the back of your neck, focusing her seductive eyes on your own.

"Your hostess wants to know what else I can do for you," Sana said, with a hunger for more. You felt weak as your face was almost close enough to rest against her own, the tension in the air the only thing separating you.

“I think my hostess should do whatever she feels like doing,” you replied, Sana’s eyes beaming at your response.

“Leave everything to me, sir,” Sana giggled, falling back into her role, eyes laced with lust and desire. Her head lifted up, seeing the expression on your eyes as her hands fiddled with your shirt, slowing unbuttoning the first few buttons.

She kept constant eye contact and Sana seemed to enjoy slowly undressing you, tilting her head to the side and leaned in close, lips finding your own and crashing against them in a deep warm embrace as she loosened up more buttons until your shirt was completely undone.

The kiss was brief but you both longed for more as Sana pulled your shirt open, admiring your bare chest, and traced it with one finger, planting her lips just below the middle of your collarbone and leaving her lipstick stained on your skin.

She cupped the side of your face and you felt her lips on you again, soft as silk as her tongue found its way into your mouth, needing no invitation as you wrapped your hands around her slim waist, desperate to pull her your bodies closer.

You were rewarded with one more kiss before she dismounted your lap, slowly lowering herself on the room’s black and white patterned carpet as she got on her knees as if she had done this many times before.

Sana didn’t say much as she unbuckled your belt, letting her actions do all the talking as she unzipped your pants and tugged them down to your ankles. Her warm hands caressed up and down your thighs, sending blood flowing to all the right places. It didn’t take long for a bulge to form through your boxers, arousing Sana equally as she rubbed it through the fabric of your underwear, tracing the outline of your shaft.

Sana sought out the rest of your naked body, quickly stripping your underwear off and leaving you with nothing left but the shirt on your back. Sana gasped at your newly exposed throbbing cock, eyes lit up with hunger as she licked her lips to let you know she liked what she saw.

“So, this is what Momo has been hiding from me,“ Sana said, spreading your legs wide as she wrapped her slim fingers around your hard cock and gripping tightly, applying firm pressure and slowly pumping you.

“It’s all for me now, ” she said as her tongue ran along your rigid shaft, sending shockwaves of pleasure as she painted up and down your cock from base to tip. Sana swirled her wet tongue around your sensitive head, lapping up your leaking slit and kissed your tip, cleaning it off.

Sana couldn’t take her eyes off your cock, spitting on it repeatedly and jerking you off in her small delicate hand, the pleasure rising already in your body.

"I should get more comfortable," she said, giving your shaft just a few more pumps before standing upright. She knew your eyes were drawn to her as she slipped each black strap down each shoulder, wiggling out of it as it fell to the ground, leaving a black lace bra the only thing preventing you from seeing every inch of her beautiful body.

She paused her work on your cock, letting your eyes roam her tight body and you did so happily. Her legs went on for days, her body tight and slim in all the right places. You had already seen her beautiful pussy and explored it with your mouth, but you wanted to feel her all over, and wanted to make her gasp just at your touch.

You focused on her tight stomach, her abs weren’t as defined as Momo but you’d still eat off of them. Then there were Sana’s breasts, pushed up nicely, and wanting to escape from their constraints. Momo clearly had the size advantage, but Sana’s tits were shaped nicely, big enough to get your hands on.

“Help me out?” Sana asked, interrupting your scan of her body as she turned around, facing away from you as she presented to you her almost bare back and most importantly her plump round ass that looked delicious and so utterly squeezable.

You regretfully remained patient as your hands grasped the thin fabric that made up Sana’s bra, undoing the clasp and helped her out of it, running your hands through her soft skin and wondering how such a beautiful creature existed. Sana quickly spun around on her heels, lifting her arms over her head and letting you see her newly exposed breasts in all their glory. Your jaw dropped at them, the perfect combination of round and milky mounds, looking soft as possible.

Staring was all you had time to do as Sana got back to her favorite position on her knees, grabbing your shaft. One more kiss on your tip and Sana parted her lips with your cock, wrapping her mouth around the first few inches. Her lips were impossibly soft and warm and you moaned loudly as Sana began sucking your cock, moving up and down and applying pressure, hollowing her squishy cheeks.

You found yourself unable to speak as Sana’s head bobbed up and down, trying to process the pleasure you were receiving.

“It feels so good,” you moaned as Sana upped her pace, lips sliding up and down your shaft as her tongue played with your underside, swirling around it at the same time.

“Good. I hope I’m taking good care of you.”

“You are, Sana. Fuck, you really are.”

Sana smiled and continued her assault on your cock, slurping away as her lips went deeper, keeping her eyes on you the entire time. Her hands rested on your thighs, digging her nails in as her head bobbed faster, slurping on your cock and leaving it covered in drool and warmth. You loved the feeling of her sucking you off, as she went even deeper towards your base you melted even more.

You closed your eyes and tilted your head back in response, savoring the feeling of her lips swallowing up your cock, slurping loudly as her lips traveled back and forth, slobbering all over your shaft.

“Fuck, you’re so good at that.”

Sana got progressively messier and louder in response, and you opened your eyes almost involuntarily as you felt your cock hit the back of the throat, not gagging her even a little. Her lips rested at your base for several seconds before slowly retreating, fondling your balls as she took you in and out of her warm wet mouth with ease, rapidly bobbing her head more as you moaned in delight.

Sana loved nothing more than working her magic in between your legs, and you didn’t think there was a better feeling in the world as she gave the wettest loudest blowjob, but you knew the best was still to come. Sana’s messy slurps as she feasted on your cock was music to your ears, and you couldn’t help audibly sharing your satisfaction every time you felt the back of her throat.

“Don’t cum yet,” Sana teased, stroking your cock furiously as she sucked on your balls tenderly, latching on and slurping just as loudly. She released them only after they were equally given attention and covered in warm saliva, knowing what you wanted next.

“It’s time for the best part,” Sana said as she climbed back on your lap again, her thighs pressed on either side of your own as they wrapped around your hips. She took your hard cock into her hand again, stroking slowly and teased herself with it, running it through her very wet folds, the warmth radiating from it driving you insane already.

Sana found a comfortable position as she nudged your wet tip against her pussy, lining it with her soaked entrance up perfectly, the anticipation killing you both already.

“Ready?” Sana asked, and you gave a silent nod in response, although you weren’t sure if anything would be able to prepare you for what you were about to experience.

It took a few final seconds of teasing before Sana lowered her hips and sank down onto your cock, entering her for the first time as you both moaned in tandem at the initial penetration.

“Fuck, you’re so big,” Sana gasped, trying to work her hips back and forth, grinding and stretching herself out little by little. Her tightness was overwhelming, the wetness and heat smothering your cock like nothing else. You watched between her thighs as the tip of your cock disappeared and reappeared, the mixture of her saliva and juices from her pussy helping guiding you deeper into her hole.

“That never gets old,” Sana said, and you were inclined to agree. The feeling of entering a woman for the first time was one of your favorite things, and if that woman happened to be an insanely sexy hostess named Minatozaki Sana you loved it even more.

Sana took it slow at first, something that you were surprised by but you knew that wasn’t going to last if the way she gave head was something to go by.

You could tell by the greedy look on her face that she needed more as she lifted her body almost entirely off your cock, leaving just your sensitive tip drenched with her fluids inside.

Seconds passed as you both braced yourselves for what was next as Sana used all the force in her hips and slammed herself down on your cock, impaling herself to the hilt and moaning needily.

“Oh f-fuck,” she cried out, and you waited for any adjustment she needed as she held onto your shoulders, eyes half-lidded with pleasure already.

Taking a deep breath Sana began moving slowly, lifting her hips up as her warm walls hugged your cock. You held onto her slender waist, watching the erotic expression on her face as she began bouncing on your cock.

"You feel so big inside me. You're so fucking hard," Sana moaned as she stretched her tight slick walls out. Her tightness drove you crazy as she took you in and out of her body, establishing a rhythm.

You were content at the moment to let Sana do all the work, watching her eyes full of lust as she was expertly grinding on your cock, moaning loudly as her head tilted back.

"You feel so good, Sana," you said breathlessly, exploring her body with your hands.

"You do too. You feel so incredible inside me, I love your cock stretching me out," she said as the look on her face continued to be full of wanton need. Sana had seemingly all the experience with riding a cock, and she was proudly going to demonstrate it, grinding those powerful hips with purpose as her beautiful tits bounced up and down.

“I really wanna ride you harder,” Sana said, even though there was no need to ask for permission as she ran a hand through her messy hair as she bounced and bounced, covering your shaft in her nectar.

“Then ride me harder,” you replied, giving her ass a simultaneous slap on each cheek that echoed throughout the karaoke room. “Ride me as hard as you can, Sana.”

She bit her lip in response, flashing a devilish smirk as if preparing you for what you had just unleashed. Sana took a few moments to let you relax, letting you get ready for the calm before the storm was about to take place.

“Ride that fucking cock,” you taunted, making sure she wasn’t about to hold back. You felt her small hands around both sides of your neck as her hips began gyrating wildly back and forth, desperately trying to feel all of your hard cock inside her tight pussy.

Your hands roamed her lower back before finding her soft ass cheeks and squeezed them both, giving repeated smacks against the warm flesh, adding an extra oomph to the loud erotic moans already escaping from Sana’s devilish lips. Sana continued upping her pace little by little, bouncing her tight frame on your cock as you were hypnotized by her movements,

“I’m so fucking wet,” Sana said, her juices dripping down her thighs and leaking onto your body as she rode you balls deep confirming her every word.

You wanted Sana to be even wetter if such a thing were possible. You wanted her to lose yourself in the pleasure she was finding, as if riding your cock wasn’t enough for her, and it most certainly wasn’t.

Momentarily, you left your hands from the warmth of Sana’s tight ass and ran them up her back, pushing her body forward to grant you easier access to her delicious bouncing breasts. Sana was too focused on the hard cock impaling her tight cunt as you turned your attention elsewhere, teasing her hard pink nipples with your tongue, swirling around them as you latched and sucked harshly on her tits.

“F-fuck yes baby, suck on those tits,” Sana demanded, not that you needed any further instructions. You squeezed her sizable breasts, sucking on each of her rosy nipples with equal attention, biting and licking them one after another.

“That feels so good. You like my tits?”

“I love them. I love your body so much, Sana,” you said as you continued to hungrily close your lips around her swollen nipples, applying a firm but gentle pressure.

The harder Sana rode you the more sweat began accumulating on your bodies, which you responded to by licking between her cleavage. You wanted to lick her entire body clean, nuzzling your face in between her tits as your tongue ran across every surface you could find.

Sana lifted her arms up and put her hands behind her head as if she suddenly read your mind, and you licked the sweat off from her neck before diving down and licked her armpits, desperate to taste every inch of her naked body.

“You’re so fucking delicious, Sana. I wanna taste you all night.”

“I won’t stop you,” Sana said in response, continuing to harshly slam herself on your cock, driving herself crazy with the hard shaft between her legs constantly spearing her constricting wet walls.

You sat there in awe of the situation, savoring the way Sana’s dripping hot flesh wrapped around your cock while her thighs loudly smacked against your own as your bodies were drowned in a sea of pleasure.

“I-I’m about to cum again!” Sana said, finding the right words more difficult by the moment, her walls clenching more and more letting you know that her limits were once again being breached.

“Cum for me, Sana,” you said, grabbing two handfuls of her perfect ass, squeezing harshly. Sana paid no attention to your words, only focusing on using your cock for her pleasure, wildly riding you without any other thoughts as she took you inside her at full speed and riding you as hard as she possibly could.

Her arms snaked around the back of your neck again, locking her wrists together as she demanded her maximum amount of euphoria, chasing another climax greedily before you even had your first.

“I’m going to cum!”

Sana’s pretty voice echoed throughout the room as her walls pulsated around your shaft, squeezing the life out of your cock almost painfully so before releasing you in waves. She moaned desperately into your ears as she came on your cock, juices flowing like a river as her body shook uncontrollably and her movements were no longer her own as she turned to jelly and slowly rode out her orgasm to completion.

Her high went on for several moments and time lost all meaning for Sana as the aftershocks of her explosive climax took over. She held onto your body as she slowly came down, barely able to open her eyes as her hips rolled ever so slowly to ride everything out.

“H-holy shit,” Sana said, recovering her senses gradually as she attempted to make eye contact.

“I came so hard. I can still feel it,” she weakly said.

“I can tell. I’m really glad this room is soundproof,” you teased. Sana looked up with glazed over eyes, showing appreciation for her satisfaction as she brought her lips and pressed them against yours, passionately but softly kissing you.

“I want to taste myself on your cock,” Sana said, dropping such a filthy set of words so casually.

The lustful expression on Sana’s features never faded as she slowly slid herself off your lap and dropped to her knees, taking your drenched shaft between her soft lips again and took you inside her mouth again, slowly sucking her messy wet juices clean.

“You’re right, I am delicious,” she giggled, once again her cute and wild sides contrasting each other was the theme of the night.

“You must be close, how do you want me? Where do you want to fuck me?” Sana asked, stroking your cock as she kissed your thighs.

So many options. You looked around the small private area, weighing each one. There were a lot of easily accessible surfaces in this room. The couch was comfortable, but you’d spent plenty of time on it already. You stood up without another word as Sana regretfully removed your cock from her small warm mouth, and helped her to her feet, letting her be the one who was in anticipation this time.

You circled around Sana’s body, scanning her curves and eyeing every inch of her milky bare skin. Not wanting to waste any time, you pulled her towards the side of the karaoke’s marble table, spinning her body around so she was facing away from you and gasped at your suddenness.

Viewing her beautiful backside you grabbed Sana’s shoulders and bent her forward until she was at an angle that you liked, the upper portion of her body pressed against the table and her breasts mashed against its surface.

"Don't fuck me like you fucked Momo," Sana said, her words twisting your face in confusion.

“What does that mean?”

Sana paused as she looked over her shoulder. “It means you don’t have to be gentle with me. I’m not a delicate flower that bruises easily.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Sana.”

She paused before answering. “Sometimes a girl likes being hurt,” Sana said, flashing a cheeky smile.

For the first time of the night, you were speechless.

“Be as rough as you want with me. It’s just us, and I want you to make me feel every inch of that amazing cock. Don’t keep me waiting.”

Well, you certainly weren’t going to as you gave her bent over body a quick lookover, focusing on her perfect round ass displayed for your eyes only, giving both of her supple cheeks a quick peek and stealing another taste of her delicious pussy.

In the meantime, Sana grabbed the karaoke remote off the table, pushing a few buttons on it as the television once again sprang to life.

“Random mode. Felt like adding a little bit of atmosphere,” Sana said.

Even though the place was supposedly soundproof, the added bit of noise to cover up the sounds your bodies were about to make was most welcome.

You ran your hands over all the warm soft skin you could find, spreading Sana's legs wide. You couldn’t wait to feel her warmth again before grasping a hip and lining your cock with her entrance, running your tip through her silky wet folds.

"Fuck me now," Sana demanded, pushing her hips against you to hurry things up. Her wetness nudged against your cock as you embraced yourself for the warmth your cock was about to enter again. You wanted her just as bad as she wanted you as you used your hips and slid inside the slippery tight walls of Sana’s pussy, filling her to the very hilt and earning a loud needy moan from her lips.

Warmth and wetness hugged your cock everywhere and you looked forward and caught Sana’s needy eyes, knowing no adjustment was necessary from her.

You held onto her hips and started moving, fucking Sana from behind with a slow deliberate pace as those tight wet lower lips wrapped around your cock gripped hard, keeping you inside the comfort of her body.

“You can do better than that,” Sana said, the disappointment obvious in her voice. You took her words as a challenge, squeezing her hips tighter as you picked up speed, sliding in and out of her wet hole with ease with the aid of her messy juices lubricating your cock.

You picked up the pace quickly, your hips moving faster and faster with each thrust as those delicious silky lips squeezed and squeezed your cock, letting you know your shaft wasn’t going anywhere. Sana’s moans grew more satisfied the faster you went, but she still needed more, and she wasn’t going to be content until you gave her everything she wanted.

“Harder. Fuck me harder!” she demanded, pushing her body against your hips again. You held on to her warm body and gave deeper thrusts, using more energy and starting smacking your body against her ass cheeks, causing her flesh to jiggle.

“There you go, was that so hard?” Sana taunted, demanding you give her even more.

Soon the sounds of your skin slapping against each other began filling the room, as you filled Sana to the hilt with each thrust, her wetness spreading over every inch of your needy shaft. Her walls squeezed every time you entered her, keeping a tight grip on your cock as you pistoned your hips and found a perfect rhythm.

“That’s it, fucking pound me. Make me take all of that big hard cock!”

You went even harder, encouraged by Sana’s loud lustful moans as you slammed into her pussy, causing a layer of thin sweat to form over your bodies again. You remembered her words from earlier as you ran your hands all over her sweaty back, collecting a handful of her blonde hair and tangling your fingers in it, forming a loose makeshift ponytail and yanked on it gently as you felt her walls clench in response.

“Fuck yes, you’re so deep! Keep fucking me just like this!”

You yanked back more carefully, pulling her torso upright off of the room’s table as she looked straight ahead into the screen in front, as if she were looking into a mirror. You had gone this far already, so you decided you should up the ante even more, giving her ass a smack.

“Mmm yes, slap my ass, baby!”

You responded by giving another slap to her soft supple cheek, followed by another on the opposite side.

“Harder,” Sana said. You gave two more slaps, adding more impact as her flesh rippled each time.

“I said harder. This isn’t the time for you to hold back. Slap my fucking ass like you mean it.”

You certainly weren't going to disappoint her for a second time. As you drilled into her tight hole you gave her delicious ass repeated slaps, each one harder than the previous one, making sure to not hit the same part twice. You slapped Sana’s tight ass again and again, the crack of your palm against her bare skin echoing as you gave in to her desires, turning her cheeks a visible shade of red and each smack against her bottom made her tight walls clench in approval.

While your fingers were entangled with the strands of Sana’s hair you pulled even harder and made sure you kept your pace steady as you fucked her from behind.

Hearing her gasps and moans of delight filled your ears as your cock plunged in and out of her warm wet hole, each time you withdrew the juices covering your shaft glistening in the room lighting.

“Is this what you wanted?” you growled at Sana as you drove your cock as deep as possible, her tightness smothering your cock with each entrance into her warmth.

“Y-yes! Don’t stop fucking me!” Sana said as her voice cracked, her whimpering moans escaped alongside her words as you gave into your needy urges. You make sure you didn’t stop your movements, pounding into her tight cunt as roughly as possible and fucked Sana as hard as your body allowed you to, the music blaring from the screen doing little if anything to dampen your combined moans.

Your hands found their way back to her perfect hips, saving your energy for the most powerful thrusts you continued to give Sana, returning the favor and using her pussy just like she used your cock earlier, caring little for much other than your own selfish pleasure.

“Are you going to cum soon, baby?” Sana asked, sensing your need for your own desperate release. You were surprised you had somehow lasted this long inside this impossibly hot woman. The juices collected on every inch of your shaft grew by the second, and the knot in your stomach tightened more and more with every deep thrust into her tight wanton body.

With the way Sana looked back at you, there wasn’t any way you couldn’t survive any longer, her needy eyes wanting your climax as much as you did.

“I-I am. I’m so close, Sana,” you blurted out to her delight, flashing a lustful smile in your direction.

“Good, that’s what I like to hear. I want you to cum. I need you to cum inside me. You’ll do that for me won’t you?”

“O-of course,” you replied, finding the air in the room harder to take in.

“Fuck me hard, and don’t you dare stop until you fill me.”

You’d never forget the erotic look of Sana’s desires as she made eye contact one final time. You kept your eyes on her bent over body, sweat dripping down her lower back as you pounded her pussy and plunged your hard cock deep into the warmth of her tight cunt, chasing the only thing that mattered to the two of you.

“Cum inside me. Please cum inside me, “ Sana pleaded with her words, and you had nothing left, eager to give in to her, to give her everything she wanted. All you could take was a handful more of thrusts, smacking your hot flesh against her own as you felt yourself being thrown over the point of no return.

There were no more words shared as you grunted loudly, moaning Sana’s name on your lips as you squeezed her hips so hard you didn’t even have time to worry about bruising her.

Your shaft violently throbbed inside her tight walls as you erupted inside her. You filled Sana to the brim with your warmth and coated her insides with your huge load, groaning with every spurt of thick semen that shot deep into her womb as your balls were drained deep inside her.

Sighing a sense of relief, your bodies stayed connected as your orgasm slowly ran its course. Sana’s tight pussy milked every single drop from you and you rested inside her while you recovered, struggling to catch your breath as you panted and gasped as you felt the most satisfied you had been in quite some time.

You didn’t remember how long you were inside Sana after you came. It might have been a few seconds, or half an hour as you regrettably withdrew an inch at a time from her warmth, leaving her body with a loud pop. As soon as she was empty your thick load slowly leaked out of her, dripping down her thighs and making a mess below.

“That was amazing,” Sana said, equally out of breath as she gingerly turned around, gripping your spent cock one more time and stroking slowly, making sure not a drop was wasted as she licked her fingers clean.

“You’re amazing, Sana.”

“Not bad for just a replacement, huh?” Sana said, cutely giggling.

“I think I might have to request you again. You really take good care of your clients.”

“Thank you. But you know you don’t have to come to the club to see me,” Sana said.

“Is that so?”

“Of course. I’m not really a hostess anymore. I don’t have quotas and I certainly don’t need the extra money. “

“I'll take you up on that offer then.”

“You’re certainly welcome to spend time and money here, but you’ve done so enough, so your wallet deserves a break. Why don’t you get dressed and I’ll take you somewhere with some real privacy?” Sana smirked.

“And where might that be?” you asked.

“You’ll see. Somewhere where you’ll be able to see just how loud I can get.”

#club mimosa #twice smut #sana smut #twice #sana #male reader #reader insert #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction

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lilsuzn · 4 years ago

Text

MLQC Boys as Fathers

Fandom: Mr. Love: Queen's Choice

Warnings: In the post below I decided to make girls like stereotypical girly things and boys stereotypical boyish things, but it doesn’t mean I believe it’s how it’s supposed to be. I personally had periods when I was very girly and ones when I was very tomboyish and that’s okay. What’s not okay is forcing your children to act certain ways and like certain thing just because they represent a certain sex.

Dedication: anon

Gavin

baby girl

Have you even seen that nail-painting Karma with him? This cutie!

If you guys had a daughter, she would be the happiest little girl on earth.

He would be unable to deny her anything. Don’t let these two go to the mall alone. Unless you don’t care for electricity or hot water. Then you do you, I guess.

I even can see him dressed in pink tutu, sitting by a small, pink table and sipping on nonexisting tea. Anything to make his little angel happy

I overall don’t see him as a parent who actively takes part in his child’s school life - like helping with organizing plays or sawing costumes or parent-teacher association associating or other stuff alike, BUT...

He sure would never miss a single performance of his baby girl and would support her along the whole way there.

And yes. He will watch YT tutorials to learn how to do some pretty hairstyles for his princess, even though initially he wouldn’t want to do them at all.

And yes. He will paint her nails when she’s old enough not to stuff her hands into her mouth all the time.

baby boy

They are collecting figures. Like, motorcycles and cars at first. Then also planes when the boy gets a little older.

He would look upto his daddy very much. Would adore that he’s a police officer and could fly and was just basically flawless - at least in your son’s eyes.

They would play with his plane toys, which boy could all name. His favorite would be the Supermarine Spitfire. Gavin could never play with that one. Dad is great and all, but it’s HIS plane.

When your sun gets a bit older, his dad would take him to aerobatic aviation shows and historic planes displays.

He surely would be a daddy’s boy, if you didn’t figure it yet. You’re cool and he loves you… BUT GAVIN?

Their bond remains strong throughout the years. They keep alot of secrets from you, but you benefit from it from time to time. Especially in saving nerves. So it’s cool. Unless it’s not…

When grown up he sure would become a police officer like his dad or a soldier. I sure see him in military aviation. Dad would be a bit worried, but would give him his full support and all the help he could.

I also believe you and Gavin would have more than just one child, but that’s just a side note.

Kiro

baby girl

He’s not a regular dad. He’s a cool dad.

Not a reckless dad tho. He knows it’s not good for kids to eat as much sweets as they want to. He knows it’s not the best idea to say yes to every single whim of theirs…

But his little princess is so pretty. And so cute. And so sweet.

Remember when I told you how Gavin would be not so happy to attend her daughter’s tea parties?

Kiro would live for those! He would buy himself dresses for those occasions.

And they would do fashion shows for you.

This dad is going to ask his daughter to do his makeup.

Takes her to get ice cream behind your back after picking her up from her ballet practice.

baby boy

I don’t know why, but I see his son as that shy, artistic type. That romantic boy with an acoustic guitar kind of trope.

He would have a voice of an angel and a talent surpassing even his father’s. He literally doesn’t need Kiro’s evol to have his charm.

This dad would be so proud. A little sad that his modest, little boy doesn’t want to perform on stage with him, but still - so extremely happy to have such a talented son.

He would get him the best tutors, and the finest instruments and every other equipment his little angel might need. Not even necessarily ask for.

If that was what wished for, he would help him start a career. He surely has what it gets to make someone famous.

If that wasn’t what his son wanted however - he would never push him. He knows the price that comes with money and a large fanbase and he wouldn’t force anyone to pay it.

Lucien

baby girl

I see Lucien as the best dad of all 4, and before you get mad at me for being biased, know that he's not my fav. I like being called an idiot and men in uniforms.

Big part of it would surely be his psychological knowledge, not gonna lie. Second one would be his outstanding intelligence that helps him with application of upbringing’s roles into life.

He just knows exactly how and when to be soft and when and how to be firm.

He would take his daughter for walks and movies. He would love to take her to an amusement park from time to time.

It’s important for him that his daughter would be well socialised.

And surprise, surprise - his daughter would be a genius. Doesn’t matter if you are biological parents or not. It just happened. And he’s very happy to be destroyed in a chase game by his nine year old.

He helps her with preparing for math contests. And any other contests there are.

They often sit together on the couch and read books. She even makes the same face as she focuses. Yes - even she’s adopted.

It’s a Christmas miracle, I don’t know. Ask Lucien, he probably does.

baby boy

Wouldn’t it be absolutely cute and a little bit ironic if his son would be a little trouble maker?

Wouldn’t want to study. Just spent all day on the playground with other kids. An tradic picky eater. Can fall asleep wherever he is, in whatever position he is.

I could see Lucien struggle to find a way to get to his child, but I couldn’t see him ever give up.

He would enroll his son into some school sports team and would very actively support it. They need a parent to go with them to attend a sports contest in another school. Sign him up. Lucien is a very busy man, that’s true, but not too busy for that.

He would learn the rules and tactics of whatever game his son plays.

Would help him practice outside his practices. Even if he might not enjoy it.

And obviously, would eagerly help him if he had any problems in school.

Overall, I see Lucien as a very loving father, who doesn’t shy away with expressing just how important his kids are for him.

Victor

baby girl

The one who would constantly motivate his children.

They are learning languages, participating in at least one sport, playing an instrument and traveling around the world with him to experience many different cultures.

His little girl would be confident, smart, self-disciplined and an absolutely cute dork who thinks daddy doesn’t know she figured how to get to that cookie jar on the highest shelf.

She started drawing things for him since she was too small to even talk properly… and she was really good for such a small poppet.

He quickly decided to add art classes to her already long list of extracurricular activities.

At some point she was absolutely wonderful. Daddy was swelling with pride.

A perfect student, remarcable artist… Obviously a Li.

She would then study architecture at the most prestigious university in the country. Victor would spare no expenses. She deserves it.

baby boy

A quiet but intimidating kid that sits in the first row in class and gives his teacher a challenging look.

Destroys in chess even Lucien’s daughter… sometimes.

Has no friends because he’s disgusted by other people.

Daddy’s boy lvl. 100 Future LFG CEO.

If he could he would even sleep with daddy… but daddy doesn’t let him because he needs “privacy” with you. Good thing you sometimes make him sandwiches, because you might get taken care of…

Victor would have his kid’s photo on his desk. Two of them actually. One facing him and one facing anyone who sits on the opposite side. People need to know just how cute they looked in their matching shirts during last year’s father’s day celebrations.

They would go to the movies together. Victor who usually makes sure your kids are eating healthy would buy him a huge popcorn… and sometimes even M&M’s.

Victor would be a principled dad with high expectations, but don’t make a mistake. Even if his kids weren’t as ambitious and success focused as he’s he would love them just as much and care for them just as much.

There would also be no favoring if you had more than one child. Everyone must feel equally loved and he would make sure it’s exactly the case.

#mlqc li zeyan #mlqc victor #mlqc #mlqc fanfic #mr love victor #mr love queen's choice #mlqc ling xiao #mlqc bai qi #mlqc gavin #mlqc kiro #mlqc lucien #mlqc fluff

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writing-in-april · 4 years ago

Text

9 o’clock

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Barista Reader

Summary: Reader is an owner of a small coffee shop that Spencer is a late night regular to. Reader finally learns Spencer’s name and why he’s so obsessed with sugar in his coffee.

A/N: Sorry for my little unprompted hiatus I was having some family problems! Here’s a little fic with two painfully shy people! I had this idea half written for a while so I was really excited to finally finish it! I also funnily have like 3 other fics with Spencer about coffee as WIPs rn lol

Warnings: Non this is a super fluffy meet cute!

Masterlist Wordcount: 1.1k

The quiet customer that had been coming in at 9 o’clock on the dot made my mind swirl with constant possibilities on who he was. He only ever spoke to me to tell his order then maybe a quiet thank you if I was lucky. The only reason I had a deep urge to start a conversation with him was that every time I repeated my loosely scripted prompts to attain his order he always looked as if he wanted to say more. Plus, his appearance left an air of mystery as to who he was, awakening curiosity in my usually shy soul. And, the fact that he would come in exactly at 9 o’clock everyday only to disappear for days at a time. So really, there were a lot of reasons why I wanted to get to know the stranger.

Maybe he was just as shy as I was. Despite dealing with people every day and having a myriad of conversations with people my heart raced, my face blushed, and my hands got clammy every time a customer decided to veer off topic from coffee or books into something else. I guess coffee and books were my safe space, I could talk about them for hours non stop.

The mysterious stranger however, made me nervous about just simply asking if I could take his order, despite it being almost exactly the same every time. A large black coffee with no room.

The first time he came in I thought he was one of the types to love his coffee completely black with no additives. That was until right after I gave him his brew he went over to where the sugar was kept out and nearly dumped all of it into the large cup.

This time when he came in I had forgotten to set out the extra sugar container I had taken to setting out right before 9 pm since he had become a punctual regular.

His dejected face from seeing the empty sugar container made me sad, his little smiles I saw always made my day. He was probably assuming I wouldn’t refill it this close to closing time. Luckily, I was able to immediately remedy the situation as I had filled it up but had only forgotten to set it out. A fresh glass cylinder shaker full to the brim just for him sat behind the counter waiting especially for him ready to cure his frown.

A little smirk hid behind the espresso machine as I put a lid and sleeve on his fresh cup of dark roast. I placed the steaming cup of joe on the counter along with the fresh shaker. My smile threatened to break into a broad grin at the sight of his own expression lighting up at the sight of the white little crystals. The familiar comforting silence was blissful but, I found myself wanting to break it as I saw him tip the shaker over and fill his cup with a steady stream of sweetness.

“Can I ask you a question?” He gave out a little squeak and almost spilled over the coffee that he was drowning in sugar obviously not expecting me to say anything. I quietly cursed myself for breaking the delicate balance of silent conversation I had enjoyed throughout the weeks.

“Y-yeah, sure.” He stuttered out with a curious gaze. Now it was my turn to be caught off guard, a handsome stranger talking to me and sounding slightly interested in conversation? Unheard of. I almost forgot what my question was in the first place, finally my own stuttered response came out after he blinked a few times in question at you.

“H-how do you stand that much sugar in your coffee? I mean I like a lot of sugar but, I usually pair it with cream and I don’t see you do that-” Oh god, I was rambling now and along with the stuttering I probably looked like a skittish fool to him. Face flushing further I looked down to try and avoid the eyes of the only person in your cafe silently wishing a customer would walk in to free you from your embarrassment. But, who gets coffee at 9pm right?

“ Well- I really need caffeine for when I work since I work a lot of hours and it really helps but I really don’t like the taste of coffee so hence the sugar. Creamer just dilutes the amount of caffeine I would end up intaking. And- I could drink tea instead but that doesn’t wake me up as good compared to the coffee.” I just blinked up at him with mild surprise, I was not expecting someone to ramble even more than I did. Courage to speak again bubbled up within me so I stuttered out a quiet remark to his little ramble.

“Ah- Ssso that’s why you’re usually my only customer here after 7.” There was an awkward pause, almost like he suddenly forgot how to speak. Instead of waiting for him to fill the permeating silence in the shop I figured I might as well ask for his name. It’s not like it couldn’t get any more awkward then it already was and I was dying to put a name to the face I had been looking at the same time every night. “What’s your name?”

“S-spencer. Spencer Reid.”

“Nice to meet you… M-my name’s Y/N.”

Unfortunately our meeting was cut short when his phone rang calling him back to whatever busy job he had that kept him up all hours of the night. He quickly and quietly departed with a promise to come in the next time he was around at 9.

I took a sip of my own coffee that was similarly overly sweet with a smile on my face. I couldn’t wait to see the handsome stranger I know had a name for. Spencer… It fit him well and I couldn’t wait for his next visit at 9 o’clock.

The smile never left my face as I cleaned up for closing time, never before had I felt so giddy to be deep cleaning the espresso machine. As I finished up behind the bar I swept around to clean up the hand off counter when I noticed a still clean napkin sitting carefully at the edge right where Spencer had been standing.

The little squeal I let out at the sight of a phone number written on the pristine white napkin echoed off the walls of the shop.

I wouldn’t even have to wait for 9 o’clock tomorrow.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #Criminal Minds #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #fluff #mgg #coffee

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writingsbychlo · 5 years ago

Text

fakers | alpha!void

word count; 13,813

summary; you just need someone. topretend to be your alpha until you can graduate, and unfortunately, the only applicate candidate is Eli, your best friends void twin.

notes; stick with me, okay? Void’s name is Noah in this, but he goes by ‘E’ or ‘Eli’ for his reputation. He’s Noah Eli Stilinski III, named after his dad’s grandfather since Stiles was named after their mom’s grandfather, just roll with it.

warnings; smut, a/b/o themes throughout, mating, marking, blood play, reference to harassment, reference to cheating.

The minute you took your seat at the lunch table, Scott’s nose was twitching, his eyes flicking to you as he politely tried to ignore the scent but it was hard, and you gave him a small smile in thanks. Your eighteenth birthday had been a curse, in your opinion. Only two months prior had you hit the big number, and you once reasonably diluted omega scent had shot up to incredibly potent, even betas being able to smell it.

By eighteen, most omegas had found an alpha, a relationship to be in and the scent of their mate would cover their own, their body reacting to the affection even if they hadn't been given a mark yet, but not you.

It wasn’t unheard of for omegas to still be single and unmarked at eighteen, it was becoming more and more common as the modern-day evolved, but it still sucked to be a high school senior and have almost every alpha within your vicinity leering at you constantly because their own pheromones decreed that upon sniffling out an omega who was ready for a heat that they should immediately jump on that.

Stiles slung an arm over your shoulder, pressing a kiss to your temple and doing his best to spread his own scent all over you, not that it would help much, he too was an omega, but unlike you, he’d found an alpha. Four weeks before Stiles’ eighteenth birthday, alpha and deputy-in-training Derek Hale had shocked everyone by stepping up and asking Stiles on a date, the two still happily together

He did his best to spread his own scent on you as often as he could, but since your birthday the act had practically become irrelevant. Your friends did the best they could to protect you, shield you from the alphas that often tracked you through the corridors and attempted to convince you to go out with them, but you didn’t want any of them. What you wanted was to graduate, and go to college, and find someone who liked you for you, not because their genetic chemistry told them they did.

“You should get a fake alpha.” Isaac joked, your eyes snapping up to shoot him a false glare but Stiles shrugged beside you, squeezing your shoulder lightly.

“I hate to agree with the person who wears scarves in August, but it’s not a bad idea. Find someone who you can trust, and ask them to scent you until graduation.” Your gaze flicked to your best friend, eyes widening as you looked at him and he sipped at the straw fixed through his drink, his own stare unwavering as you studied him for any sense of a joke, your shoulders deflating under his arm.

“Yeah? And which alpha am I supposed to ask? Jackass Whittemore? Or perhaps that one guy over there who’s been undressing me with his eyes since I sat down?” Stiles followed your gaze, flipping off the boy with a protective scowl, a sigh sounding from him. The same sigh bounced all around the table, and Allison snickered, Scott shooting you a pitiful look as his girlfriend opened her mouth to speak:

“Isn’t Stiles’ brother an unbonded alpha?”

Stiles’ jaw clenched at the mention of his brother, and Lydia’s jaw clenched at the mention of her rival for highest GPA and grades. She worked her ass off every day for those grades, she studied and she showed up to every class, even when she was sick. Noah ‘Eli’ Stilinski skipped half of the days, was often put in detention for being caught smoking behind the gym, and got into regular fights.

Lydia hated that he so effortlessly managed to keep up with her and Stiles’ top averages.

Chatter then picked up once again as Lydia made a crude comment about the aforementioned boy, Stiles jumping in to defend his ‘evil twin’ - as Lydia so eloquently called him - and yet even Stiles couldn't help but cringe in the onslaught of bad deeds and acts voiced all around the table. Your mind drifted from the conversations though, a huff on your lips as you balanced your chin on your hand, the chatter becoming background noise as you got lost in your thoughts.

You watched as the blue jeep pulled up, silently cheering to yourself as you noticed two passengers int he vehicle instead of one, and you bounced over to the car, Stiles waving at you spastically with a wide grin as he yanked the key from the ignition, hopping from the car in unison with his brother. Your eyes locked with that of the second Stilinski boy, and he sent you a lopsided smirk, his eyes scanning over you slowly as he rounded the vehicle, slinging his bag up onto his shoulder.

“You smell fuckin’ fantastic today, sweetheart.” He shot you a wink, licking his lips as he walked past you and Stiles elbowed him in the ribs, a scowl on your face as the boy commented on your evident and alluring scent, but you took a deep breath, Stiles asking if you were ready to head inside, but you shook your head.

“I need to talk to your brother for a moment.” The pair stilled, your best friend looking at your cautiously and Noah glanced back over his shoulder, raising a brow at you and his usual cocky smirk was back as you shot him a pleading look, Stiles gasping beside you as he clicked in.

“No! You can’t ask him!”

“I have to!” You hissed, your fingers locking around the other boy’s wrist as you dragged him away, and he let himself be pulled along with a cocky look on his face as he followed after you, and you eventually released him, rubbing your hands together nervously as you avoided his gaze.

When you looked back up, he was watching you carefully, a coy glint in his eyes, and you swallowed thickly. “I don’t like when people talk about how good I smell. I don’t like being looked at all the time, I don’t like the attention.” His gaze moved over your face, his brows furrowing a little, and your eyes left his as heat rose to your cheeks. “I need someone to scent me and pretend to be my alpha, just until graduation. I trust you, I’ve known you since we were five, and who else understands the struggle more than someone who’s brother is an omega, y’know?”

You punctuated your words with a little laugh, shaking your head as you tried to steady your racing heart, your body feeling like it was on fire as you stood before the taller boy.

“I mean, it’s not like you want to settle down any time soon anyway, so y-” You cut your words off as you watched his fingers jiggle, his eyes directed over your shoulder, and as you turned to look, you noticed a beta from your English class gigging as she pouted at him, as though you weren’t even there, and your breathless laugh of disappointment was mixed with a scoff as you cleared your throat. “Yeah, never mind. This was a bad idea.”

His eyes snapped back to you as you spoke, his lips parted as you moved your bag back up your shoulder, one of his hands reaching out to grasp at your elbow but you jerked out of his reach. “Wait, what? I’m listening, I swear.”

“You can’t even give me your attention two minutes to have a conversation, Noah, h-”

“Don’t call me that here, someone might hear you.” He mumbled, and you rolled your eyes at his aversion of his first name. He dubbed it too old-fashioned and biblical for his tastes, choosing to go by his middle name ever since he started high school and you’d never bothered to get into the habit.

“Sorry, Eli.” The word was practically spat from your tongue as you held your hands up, taking another step away from him. “No other alpha would believe you were in a relationship anyway, it was stupid. I’ll find someone else.” You didn’t give him a chance to reply, choosing instead to walk away, looping your arm through Stiles’ as you walked into the school alongside him, never once bothering to look back.

The idea only festered in your mind, your embarrassment bubbling over as you thought about the conversation and the failure of the plan lingered in your mind all throughout your first to classes. It wasn’t long until Lydia had pried the information on your dull mood out of you, exactly halfway through first period English to be exact, and she’d given you a glare for bothering to talk to her academic archnemesis for a good five minutes before she caved and comforted you.

The rest of your classes were spent trying to decide between other alphas you could go for. Jackson Whittemore was ruled out immediately, he was a jackass and wouldn’t do anything to help you, and neither would any of the other goons on the lacrosse team. Other than the boys in your friendship group, they were all a bunch of sweaty assholes, and the alphas were the worst of them. The alphas you knew that were nice enough to want to be with were all with a beta and in happy relationships, and Stiles was the only other omega you knew of.

The search seemed to be entirely pointless, your options dwindling back down to none, and despite her attempts to cheer you up as she reapplied a layer of pastel-pink lipgloss in the mirror hung up on the inside of her locker, you were still in a dismal mood, and desperately trying to ignore the burning gaze of the blond boy down the corridor from you. As she closed her locker, she opened her mouth to give you yet another pep talk to help you get through the day, her freshly plumped lips sealing into a thin line as she glowered at an unknown source over your shoulder, and you turned in time to see the boy who had caused your morbid embarrassment of the day coming stalking down the corridors toward you.

His eyes locked with yours, his feet carrying him directly toward you without a sign of dodging or stopping, and your eyes widened as he got closer and closer to you. With heavy hands on your hips, he pushed you backwards and into the metal of the lockers, your body colliding with the cool surface as a surprised squeak left your lips, his nose running along the underside of your jaw, tipping your head to the side as you went pliant under his hold and the front of his body was almost pressed against yours, a wet kiss being placed to your jaw as he nuzzled into your neck.

“What the hell are you doing?” Your voice was practically squeaked out, and his hand squeezed your hips, before sliding around to sit on your back as he pulled your body flush up to rest against his, his arms snaking around your waist and his cheek rested against the top of your head. You were limp in his arms, shocking filling your body and he chuckled, the sounds rumbling in his chest and you could feel it pressed to your own as he dipped down, lips brushing the shell of your ear and hot breath fanning over your skin. “I said, what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m scenting you, sweetheart. You’re not going to find anyone else to play alpha for you until graduation. Might as well be me.” You sighed, your eyes connected with Lydia’s as she wore an equally wide look of shock, and you lifted your arms, your hands holding onto his forearms carefully as you relaxed a little bit, and he rubbed his face into your neck one more time, before pulling back enough to look at you. “Lydia, you are burning holes into the side of my fucking head. Stop staring at me.”

His words were growled out, his eyes locked on yours and you swallowed thickly under his intense gaze, your lips sealed shut but your red-headed friend scoffed, the toes of her heels clicking on the ground in agitation, her retort being shot back without hesitation. “Stop leeching on my best friend and I will.”

He finally turned to look at her, the usual stormy expression he wore was plastered on his face and he rose a solitary brow at her, and she stared him down, unwilling to be the first to cower. “Why don’t you go on ahead, we have things to discuss. I’ll walk (Y/N) here over to the table when we’re finished, she won’t be alone. I swear it.”

Her eyes flicked to you, and you sent her a small nod, which she accepted, snarling at the boy still holding you tightly before she was walking away, her heels clicking on the floors as she left and the Stilinski twin turned back to you with a gleeful grin.

“I’ll make you a deal, hm?” You narrowed your eyes at him, but gave him a lone nod in signal for him to continue with his words, and he nibbled on his lower lip, before jutting his chin out toward you a little as he held his head high. “I’ll act like your alpha until graduation.”

“You will?”

“You’re awfully surprised by my reaction. You did ask me, and you know how hard it is for me to say no to you.” He dipped his head down, taking a low sniff and humming happily under his breath, when you frowned.

“I don’t want you to say yes to this just because I’m an omega and it’s all instinctual for you to want to help me. I want you to say yes because you want to help me.” You mumbled, and he pulled back to look at you, his eyes studying yours carefully.

“I’m not doing it because an omega asked, I’m doing it because you asked. I do want something in return, though.” Your face crumpled as you blushed, pulling away from him a little as you stiffened in his hold, and he shook his head profusely as your mind spun. “No, not what you’re thinking. I’m a little offended at your reaction, but it’s not that.”

“Then what do you want?”

Your voice was cautious and unsure, and his grin dimmed into a small smile, his fingers reaching up to tuck loose hairs behind your ear. “I have a lot of college applications and interview letters. You have to help me apply, and proofread them all.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Your jaw dropped, before a wide smile took over your features and you searched his face for any signs of deceit, his features reading true and you dropped your forehead forwards to rest on his shoulder, a relieved laugh leaving you and you felt his hands smooth along your back reassuringly in slow circles. “I can’t believe that’s all you want. You’ve totally got a deal.”

He chuckled in your ear, slinging an arm over your shoulder as he pulled away, guiding you toward the lunch hall as you both thought over the bargain you had just made.

On your side, you had never felt safer than you did in this moment. Your best friend’s brother had his arm wrapped around you, his scent already lathered over you and for the first time in months, you didn’t have the piercing gaze of desperate alpha’s watching your every move. Unconsciously, you curled into his side a little more, the familiar smell of the boy you’d known ever since going for your first playdate at the house of the boy whose name a five-year-old you couldn't pronounce brought you a much-needed comfort. Noah Stilinski Jr had never treated you as a possession, or belittled you for your omega state. Perhaps it had been because his mother wouldn't allow it, or perhaps it was simply due to having a twin who was the only other omega in your year group, but he treated you with respect, even if he was a player, and it was only three months until graduation; you could survive until then.

On his side, he was holding you protectively close, the long-buried crush he’d held on you since he’d turned twelve and watched you bounce into the joint birthday party he and Stiles had while wearing a pretty and sparkly dress was beginning to poke its head up once again, and he brushed the tip of his nose against your temple, no idea what he was getting himself into, but he wasn’t willing to let any other alphas near you, whether the relationship was real or fake.

The next morning, you were anxiously waiting outside of the school building, Allison on one side of you and Lydia on the other as they chatted between themselves, the nail of your thumb caught anxiously between your teeth as you tried desperately not to bite it off, simply holding it there for reassurance. The scenting you had been given yesterday was superficial and had worn off the second you had changed your clothes and slept overnight, and you knew from experience with Stiles that it was a while before an alphas scent would start to really cling to an omega.

Eyes were back on you, watching you with steely gazes as both boys and girls alike around you watched don carefully, your heart racing as you waited for the blue jeep to pull up. When it finally did, minutes before the bell rang to signal homeroom, the dirt-smeared vehicle pulled up and haphazardly into a parking space. Your anxiety only seemed to spike as you watched both of the identical boys’ exit and make their way toward you. Stiles had a wide grin on his face. Practically bouncing along as his hands grasped onto the straps of his bag, and his brother walked along beside him, face pulled in a neutral expression, his hands clutching a small bundle of material as his own bag hung from one shoulder.

Your eyes were sealed on him, and he allowed the edges of his lips to flicker up in a barely present smile as he approached, his features softening just enough to ease your worries, and Stiles reached your first, his arms wrapping around you in a hug as he greeted you, before quickly moving on to chat to Lydia and Allison, shepherding the girls inside without even a glance over his shoulder as he allowed his brother to talk to you.

He stood closer to you than he ever had before, bar the previous day’s locker encounter, and he still for a moment, his eyes scanning over you, before he was making some form of grunting noise in the back of his throat, his free hand reaching up to take your bag in his hand as he slipped it from your shoulder, offering you the bundle of grey material he was clutching. “Put this on, and wear it until it doesn’t smell like me anymore, and then I’ll give you a new one.”

You took it from him, shaking it out and looking at the pale grey hoodie before you, and his brows raised as he watched you pause, before you were tugging the baggy material over your head, smoothing it down over your shirt, the oversized jumper hanging slightly loose on you, sleeves falling to the middles of your hands and you ran your palms over the front of it, smoothing it down and admiring the softness of it under your hand. Reaching over, your head snapped up when you felt his fingers brush along the back of your neck, scooping your hair out from under the collar so that it could fall freely down your back once again.

He checked his watch, fishing into his back pocket as he deemed the time to be appropriate, before producing a small and battered cardboard packet. Popping a single neatly wrapped roll from within, he balanced it between his lips, the lighter from within the box clicking a few times as he shielded the flame from the breeze before the end took up an orange ember and immediately began to burn down to ashes, glowing brightly when he inhaled. His hand dropped or yours once he had folded the packet back away, lacing your fingers together and pulling you closer to his side, the other hand with two fingers holding the cigarette on either side.

Letting out the deep breath he was holding, smoke curled into the air as he released it slowly, angling his head upwards as not to blow a mouthful of smoke straight into your face, and you were grateful for it, despite how much you may despise it. Instead of complaining, you chose to twist into him, burying your face into his shoulder and scrunching up your nose as the smell that clung to his clothes, knowing he must’ve smoked in the car on the way over here too, but his arm looped around your waist, holding you to him tightly and letting his fingers draw patterns on your back as you stood in silence.

It was odd, being so comfortable with him. You were well aware of his reputation, of all the bad habits he kept up, and perhaps it was just the fact that you were finally getting the physical attention from an alpha that your body screamed at you to get, but you were happy, and it didn’t feel wrong to let your own arms come up to wrap around his waist as you tried to cover yourself with his scent as much as you could.

You were grateful for the bell ringing, and you hadn't realised you were holding your breath as much as you were until you took a deep breath, watching as he dropped the nearly-finished cig to the floor and stomped it out, guiding you toward the building with slow steps. He could almost feel your hesitancy and nerves, choosing to squeeze your side in comfort to let you know that it was okay, and the action let a surprising amount of calm wash over you.

He walked you all the way to your first class, as he peered inside the classroom, glaring daggers at every pair of eyes hat scanned along your body lustful from within. “I’ll see you at lunch, okay?”

“You will?”

He chuckled at your surprise, nodding down at you and shuffling to the side to allow other students to shuffle into the classroom and past the pair of you in the doorway. “I hate cafeteria food, but it’s curly fry day, so it’s not so bad.” He shrugged, dipping his head to press a kiss to your cheek before he was walking away, and you rubbed at the spot with the sleeve of his jumper on your body the moment he was out of sight, and you slipped inside to talk to sit in your usual seat beside Stiles, who offered you a pensive look, your thumbs up reassuring him that the plan was going well.

“I can’t smell you as much, the alphas probably still can but at least it’s not quite as..”

“Strong? Overwhelming? Irritating?” You offered, and he chuckled, leaning back in his seat as Coach Fistock walked into the room, scowling and setting up at the front, a coffee mug all but slammed down onto the desk as he mumbled to himself.

“I wouldn’t say irritating. You smell good, it’s just.. powerful.” He gave you a dazzling grin as you rolled your eyes at him, choosing instead to focus on Coach as he began to command attention with a range of vague insults and shouts into the room. Each of your classes had been a little easier, you’d found, as even when the alpha wasn’t with you, the jumper on your body offered you a little protection as he dulled your natural scent and mixed it with his own. Lunch was rolling around before you knew it, and you were adding an extra portion of curly fries to your tray as you lined up with your best friend, listening to his chatter about movie night and how last night him and his brother had told his dad all about the deal that had been made, so it wouldn’t be weird if anything happened between the two of you when you came over.

“You remember that this is just for the public eye, right?”

Stiles glanced over at you as he paid for his food, nodding at you with an expression on his face that read as ‘duh’, but he shrugged anyway, moving out of the way to let you pay for your own food.

“Yeah, but Dad said it might be a good opportunity to scent, you know? My dad also said he was proud of my brother - I know, I was shocked, too - he said my mum would be proud of him for helping you out, and I swear I heard him sniffle for a second. I called him out on it and he punched me.” That made you laugh, your friend glaring at you as the two of you walked back over to the table where your friends were waiting, and the second twin had stuck to his word, his face appearing in the doorway as he looked around for you, quickly weaving between the tables.

The seat beside you had purposefully been saved empty, and he sunk down into it with a slouch, a cheeky smirk on his lips as he glanced at your meal. “Hungry, sweetheart?” You rolled your eyes at him, pushing a tray of curly fries over to him as you shook your head, snapping the seal on your water bottle and lifting it to your lips, his brows furrowing as he looked at them. “You bought me fries?”

“It’s the least I could do.”

“We already have a deal. You don’t have to butter me up.” He mumbled, but didn’t hesitate in digging into the potato treat, and you followed suit, shaking your head at his words.

“I’m not, I just wanted to buy you some fries.”

He stared at you for a minute, his eyes narrowed on you before his shoulder sagged and his lips flicked up at the corners. “Thank you.” He paused, before leaning in, rubbing his nose along your jaw and running a hand along your back, making sure to be obvious for any onlookers that might see you. He sat quietly as you chatted with your friends, busying himself with his phone, texting and playing games, slipping outside for a while and coming back smelling of fresh smoke and burnt tobacco, before sitting with you for the rest of the lunch break.

Your days rapidly fell into a new routine that involved him, the days turning to weeks and the little things all became easier. Conversations came without effort to the pair of you, and he even made the effort to reach out to some of the others. Around week two, he started to talk and join in with the conversations at lunchtimes, and his number had become one of the most frequented in your texts list. The physical affection had become more natural, and despite how much he scowled about it, he no longer complained when you called him by his real name in public. It came to being after a very snappy “I have known you since we were five, I’m not calling you ‘E’ when your name is Noah!” to which he merely huffed, dropping his shoulders from their defensive position before allowing a small smile to break through.

To almost everyone's surprise, he’d managed to reign in his flirting to a few small comments that were let slip while aimed at you, and as far as you were aware, he hadn't been with anyone else since your agreement had begun. He was showing up to school more, and actually attending his classes, and the stress you had felt had been deeply relieved.

You no longer felt like you were being watched when you walked through the halls, or worried when you walked alone that a particularly brass alpha might make a move. Even when they did, as much as you hated it, Noah would step in at every opportunity he had, leaving you to frown at him and patch him up after he threw the first punch and started a fight, getting himself battered and bruised in your name.

His hand in yours, kisses being pressed to your cheek or forehead, became a staple in your life, and you quickly found yourself missing the touch, seeking it out as soon as you could, in every free moment. His efforts to scent you had become almost instinctual, even when the two of you were alone. You often found yourself with his hands on your shoulders when you sat at the Stilinski dinner table doing your homework with Stiles, or his body pressed up close to yours when he joined you to study.

When your month marker had rolled around, you’d had a hiccup in the fifth week of your agreement, one that had panicked you greatly for the future of your deal. You’d been waiting at your locker today, Stiles bouncing up to you with pure excitement as Noah fidgetted and stood stiff, a moody expression on his face. His hand had found yours and you’d leaned into his side, his body stiff and he didn’t look at you as you did, never returned the attention or made an effort to acknowledge them.

He had walked you to your class, but was still of a bad temper, his response short and gruff, growing in increasing frustration as he merely grunted and gave you one-word answers, and eventually, you had given up. Lunch was almost over when he excused himself from the table, going to swap out his books at his locker and you turned to Stiles, your eyebrows raised. “What did you do?”

“What?”

“He’s in an awful mood! What did you do?” You pressed, and Stiles pouted, sipping at his chocolate milk and frowning at you.

“It wasn’t me! Actually, it sort of was.” Your brows furrowed, and you pinched his arm as you encouraged him to keep speaking, a yelp leaving him as he rubbed at the patch, scowling at you. “I may have let it slip that you hate the smell of his cigarette smoke the other day, and he’s been on the patch since last night.”

Your eyes widened, and Stiles covered himself for the assault he thought to be coming, but your body slumped, eyes wide as you thought about it. Reaching idly for your bag, you swung it up onto your shoulder, abandoning your half-eaten meal as you jogged quickly from the lunch hall. When you found him, he was glaring into his locker, white-knuckled grip on the door making you think it may actually dent.

Placing your hand over his, he jumped in surprise, looking over you once before closing the locker door, leaning back against it and crossing his arms. “What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be having your lunch?”

“You gave up smoking for me?”

His body went rigid and tense, his lips pursed before he let out something between a sigh and a groan, shaking his head. “Fucking alpha instincts to look after you.” He was irritated by the action, and rubbed at his arm, your eyes closing in on the space as he lifted up his sleeve to show you the white patch stuck to his pale skin, and a smile found its way onto your face.

“You gave up smoking for me.”

He didn’t get a chance to respond, before you were standing up on the tips of your toes and pressing your lips to his cheek, your forehead bumping against his temple and he hummed, his arms wrapping around your middle to hold you as close to him as he could possibly get you. Your face ended up pressed into his neck, your giggle muffled by his skin as he squeezed at you, his hands holding you so you couldn't get away for him.

After that, the weeks rapidly flowed into months, the connection between the two of you only growing. Along the way, the lines between what you were and what you could be had become blurred, the affections you shared had spread to when the two of you were alone, even if you didn’t need to be scented. More and more of your trips to the Stilinski household had been to visit your alpha, as well as your omega best friend, and Stiles was still hanging the time he’d come home from Derek’s to find the two of you curled up together in a nap over your head as blackmail.

His kisses were now placed regularly on your face, his softer side coming out and only showing for you as he peppered you with affections whenever he could. At some point, you had shifted from your usual place between Stiles and the Sheriff on the couch to squeezed onto the lounge chair beside Noah, his arm wrapped around your waist. Stiles had smirked at you each time, until the week that Star Wars had been selected thanks to it being Stiles’ week to choose, and Noah had spent the entire movie mumbling jokes and comments into your ear, which you couldn't help but laugh at. Stiles told you to take the movie seriously, but you just couldn't.

An ever-revolving collection of his hoodies had begun to build up in your bedroom at home, and you regularly found yourself wearing them, just to feel comforted and closer to him. On the rare occasion, he would place a small kiss to your lips. Those times were rare, and the first time you hadn't even realised it had happened until a while later.

You had spent the day helping him write out all his application letters, one by one until they had all been sent off, the darkness having rolled in as the early hours of the morning ticked by, Stiles snoring loudly beside the two of you as he was surrounded by print outs and forms for GWU, the Sheriff walking through the door and staring at the three of you in your hurricane of sleepy yawns and envelopes, papers spread out around you.

He had offered you a lift home, choosing to wait out by the cruiser as you gathered your things and his son walked you to the door. It had been a simple gesture at the time, and neither of you had thought too much about it when his hand had cupped your cheek, his eyes dropping tiredly as he pressed his mouth to yours in a small peck, and you had eagerly returned the action, your body melting into his for only a moment.

At first, it had only happened again when you were alone. When you had been hanging out at his place, the two of you sitting on his bed and watching a movie on his laptop, or when he’d meet you at your lockers between classes when no one else was around. Scott and Allison were the first two to actually see you kiss, you hadn't even realised they were in the area when you had run up to him, waving a letter of invitation to an open day at one of your n his face before wrapping your arms around his neck, your lips meeting his for a split second before you’d caught Allison’s squealing near you.

Isaac had been next, and he was where the truth had really slipped out, because he had spilled the news to Stiles and Lydia, the former of whom had called you as he had dinner with his boyfriend and demanded you tell him whether Isaac was lying or not, and the latter of whom had simply started smirking at you each time it happened. Everyone else finding out had been a slippery slope, the two of you eventually having given up hiding on the occasional times you wanted to kiss the boy protecting you, or when he wanted to kiss you.

Some of the colleges you had helped him apply for had matched your own, and only two months after you had sent off all your applications, the time for open days and stay-overs at your colleges' choices had rolled around. You were nervous, to say the least. You had gone to elementary school, middle school and high school with Stiles, your best friend and your only omega support. The open days had been exciting, the parties thrilling and the people welcoming, and you’d found that even when you were alone, you weren’t looked on as an omega outsider. The fact that you were unmarked seemed to slip by without bother, and it only built up your excitement to go to college, to join the real world and find your place.

Your last college was the one you were looking forward to the most, and you were practically bouncing with joy as you held onto the hand of the alpha Stilinski, both of you having been invited down to this college for the look-around weekend celebration. Stiles had lent you the keys to the jeep, very reluctantly, and you’d driven down together, matching hotel keys tucked into each of your pockets to the room you were sharing, his fingers flexing around yours as he held you tight.

The activities fair was bright and colourful and loud, and you had already gathered a handful of coloured leaflets, most for you and a few for the man beside you, and he simply pressed himself up to you and stood protectively by your side as you socialised and talked to the owners of each booth, letting him place kisses to your temple and the sides of your head as he waited each time.

You had seen almost every stand as you made your way to the end of the rows, your eyes flicking over the last cluster to see if there was anything you were interested in, when you were suddenly jumping in excitement. “That one says ‘omegas’ on it, I want to know what it is!” You left his side, dashing through the crowds quickly and leaving him to follow, his chuckle barely reaching your ears as you disappeared into the swarms of people.

‘Single Omegas & Omega Support Group’

You swiped up a leaflet, flicking through the pages with a wide smile, immediately writing your name down on the ‘interested’ sheet and filling out your details. When you spun around to find your man, he was standing only a few feet behind you, his eyes narrowed on the sign as his hands stuck in his pockets, his once playful expression now twisted and sour, and he didn’t lighten up as you jumped back into his view with a wide grin.

“What’s up with you, grumpy?”

You leaned up to peck his lips, his head turning to the side as your lips met his cheek and you frowned, pulling away and looking at him. “Single omegas support group?”

“No, single omegas and support group.”

“Same thing.” He growled, and you stepped back, your eyes wide as you looked at him and you rose your brows, lifting a hand to rest on his arm but he jerked away from your touch. You couldn't understand his anger, and you swallowed thickly, tucking your collections of brightly coloured pamphlets into your bag, glancing around the two of you as you felt the tension between you build.

“I just figured it would be good for m-”

“Because you’re single?” Your jaw gaped, opening and closing as you tried to find words. You had never put a label on what you were exactly, but it hurt to hear him so quickly jump to that conclusion. In your mind, you were a couple, you had long since passed the time of dancing around your idle affections, choosing to indulge in them together, but apparently, your answer didn’t come fast enough for him as he scoffed, and he stepped away from you. “Right, I see how you feel then. It’s fine, ‘bout time I got my sexual freedom back anyway. Just in time for college.”

With that, he was storming away from you, your eyes watching him go as he slipped into the crowds, not looking back, and you merely shook your head, knowing he’d get over whatever he was hung up on eventually, and you could explain to him why you had actually been interested in the group. Instead, you pulled your itinerary from your pocket, unfolding the piece of paper and checking your schedule, choosing to give him time to cool down as you went about your day and continued with your activities. You figured he’d just catch up with you at some point.

Next up was taking a tour of campus living and sorority houses, and you had loved every second of it. You weren’t overly interested in joining a sorority, but it was nice to meet all the girls there anyway, and it was especially nice to get a real chance to look around the dorms you might be staying in. They were roomy, both the individual, pairs and group ones had a lot of space. Each building had large communal kitchens and dining rooms that were fully decked out, and they weren’t the well-worn and dirty places, but instead clean and stylish, they weren’t destroyed or gross but the sparsely furnished places were somewhere you could actually see yourself living in, and you were sad that the alpha you felt so deeply for wasn’t here with you to look around them.

A sweet girl in a green shirt with the university insignia was standing outside of the building when you left, handing out leaflets and chatting about a welcome party being held at one of the sorority houses, and you took one, smiling politely and stepping aside to check the time on your phone. Your notifications were empty, and you lifted the device to your ear after clicking on his name in your call logs, and it rang for a few beats before being cut off and sent to voicemail, telling you that he was ignoring your calls.

If he wanted to play that game, then fine.

Instead of lingering on the thought, you chose to check the address on the paper, making your way through the large campus and eventually finding where you were supposed to be, music pumping through the air loudly before you’d even finished walking up the front garden of the large house. You had sent him a text a while ago informing that you were going to a party, and where it was, hoping that he would come and meet you. Hours passed by, many drinks being consumed and many conversations being had but you never caught onto his familiar face. The lingering sadness of your argument faded away as you found yourself slightly tipsy, giggling with two omega girls you had found, before piling yourself into a taxi and slurring the address of your hotel to the driver.

The drive was short, or perhaps that was just what your drunken mind had left you believe, but you were soon leaning against the walls of the elevator and watching excitedly as the floors clicked up to your level, joy buzzing through you at the thought of crawling into the large double bed with the man you cared so deeply for, and putting this stupid disagreement behind you.

Your card swiped across the reader beside the frame, the door clicking open for you and the dopey smile soon fell from your face as you took in the sight before you. Naked, hot and sweaty was your alpha, buried deep within another woman, her legs wrapped tightly around her waist and his lips locked on hers as he pounded into her. The door slammed against the wall as you lost your grip on it while stumbling, and his eyes widened as he saw you there, but you were soon enough just backing out of the room, far too tipsy and tired to actually deal with what you were seeing.

So, that’s where your ‘relationship’ stood with him.

The door slammed shut behind you as tears welled in your eyes, and you blinked them away, not bothering to look back as you made your way back down to the lobby to request a second room for yourself. The morning brought a hangover and regret, sadness welling within you and the bed you were sleeping in alone felt cold and unwelcoming, when you should have been in the arms of the boy you had come with, but he’d been fucking another girl in your shared bed.

Eventually, you had dragged yourself from between the sheets, working yourself up to going to the original room to collect your things, and you thanked whatever higher power there was that he was still passed out in the sheets with his latest whore when you arrived, leaving you free to gather your belongings and sneak back to your new room in peace.

A hot shower had barely cleared your thoughts, and your eyes still stung from tears, but at least you were fresh-faced and ready for breakfast. You ate alone, in silence, choosing to text him and tell him in the simplest terms you could muster that you would meet him at the car at eleven for the journey home. Halfway through your food, Stiles had texted you, asking how it went, and you felt nauseated, abandoning your food in favour of calling him, breaking down in tears the second you heard your best friend’s voice over the phone as you spilt everything that had happened to him.

At ten forty-five, you returned to your room, gathering your suitcase and returning the keycard to the desk, thanking the attendee and making your way out to the car. The source of your emotional turmoil was already sitting in the vehicle, radio turned on with low volume as his fingers tapped on the steering wheel, and he made no effort to get out and help you when you loaded your bags into the back. He didn’t greet you when you climbed into the passenger seat, he didn’t even look at you, his jaw clenched as he kept his eyes on the road and turned the key in the ignition, silence filling the car.

His neck and jaw were littered with dark purple hickies, his hair still messy and he was wearing the same clothes he had been yesterday, the smell of cheap perfume still clinging to him, and you turned away, your body facing the window as your head rested on the door, and you chose to put your earphones in and crank up the music to drown out your feelings, not a single word being spoken between the two of you on the drive home.

Barely two weeks had passed since you had spoken to him, and your heart was aching for him, your body screaming at you to return to your alpha, but he was avoiding you at all costs. He was missing school again, getting plenty of detentions when he did show up, and the smell of him was wearing away.

It was clear that he was no longer your alpha, and others were beginning to approach you again, the freedom and security you had found when you were by his side was slipping away as you once again became timid and scared, nervous about the people surrounding you. Stiles was struggling to keep an eye on you more than ever as graduation closed in and more and more alphas began to desperately proposition you before you went to college, wanting to claim you and make you theirs, their natural instinct being to do so.

He was elated when his letter from GWU had arrived, and you had a small bundle of letters to open, including one to the college that you so desperately dreamed of attending, and he was busily setting up two glasses on the coffee table, takeout menus ready and a stack of movies loaded up for the two of you as he buzzed around, awaiting your arrival.

“What are you moving about so quickly for?”

“I forgot to set up!” Stiles snapped, glancing up at his brother who was dawdling on the stairs, and one lone eyebrow raised as the other stayed solitary.

“Date with Derek?”

“No, (Y/N) is coming over.” He stiffened at that, his glare fixed on his hyperactive brother as he scoffed, and Stiles looked up at him hands on his hips as he paused, an angry expression on his usually joyful face, and he tutted. “I’m not going to stop hanging out with my best friend in my home, just because you fucked up and fucked someone else.”

“Can’t fuck up something that never was!” He retorted, walking the rest of the way down the stairs and taking a handful of popcorn from the bowl Stiles had set out, and the former twin huffed, hands twitching by his side.

“You’re so fucking stupid, Noah.”

“No, I’m not, Mieczysław.” Stiles scowled at the use of his real name, watching his brother retreat back to the stairs, and though he knew it wasn’t his place to step in, he couldn't help but open his mouth, the words pouring out before he could stop them.

“She didn’t like the group because she thinks of herself as single.” His brother paused his ascent of the stairs when he was only two from the stop, and Stiles stood at the base of the stairwell, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m the only omega she’s known for her entire life, and when I went to GWU to check it out, I met this guy from an omega support group who was really nice, and it was an easy way to meet other omegas. She didn’t want advice on being single, she just wanted a chance to meet other omegas. I encouraged her to look for one of those groups too, because she’s going to need new omega friends when I can’t be with her, and you didn’t even give her a chance to explain that before you were hopping into the sheets with someone else.”

The news hit him like a ton of bricks and he felt as though he’d been winded, his body twisting to sit on the tops step as he looked at Stiles, not getting a chance to say anything when the door was suddenly being knocked upon, loud and frantic and Stiles disappeared from his sights to open the door.

“Hey, you made it a-” He paused, the door quickly slamming shut and he leaned down, peaking between the bannisters of the railing to see you clinging onto Stiles, his brother holding a hand to the back of your head as the other wound around your waist. “What the fuck happened? Are you okay?”

When you pulled back you were shaking, and you didn’t notice the other twin lurking at the top of the stairs, too busy blinking back the tears that lined your eyes as you let out a nervous and relieved laugh.

“You smell like cheap beer, weed, and random alphas?” His nose scrunched up as he held you at arm’s length, and the hidden twin could smell it all the way from the top of the stairs, rage twisting in his gut as the word ‘mine’ played on a loop within his mind, unable to stop it from happening as biology took over.

“I was walking over and there was this group of alpha guys, they were sort of drunk and some of them were smoking pot and they just got a little confident, because my scent has been coming back stronger. They made a bunch of comments and came over to me, and they wouldn't leave me alone, so I ran the rest of the way here.” Your words were spoken through deep breaths as you tried to calm both your nerves and your racing heart, and both twins frowned, one filled with concern while the other filled with guilt.

“I should have come and collected you, instead of letting you walk.”

“Hey, what can you do? That’s just the life of an unmarked omega, right?” You joked about it, brushing off the incident as though it was nothing and it only made him feel worse, because he had abandoned you over his own impatience, jumping to conclusions and leaving you to fend for yourself. He watched as Stiles guided you to the living room, letting you put down your belongings as he spoke to you about getting a bath, and you never even noticed when Noah slipped from the house, boiling with rage and practically seething as he walked along, but Stiles did.

Your best friend ran you a bath, making sure to tip far too much scented bubble mix into it to ensure the smell would leave your skin, and he’d left a small pile of clothes out for you on the counter for when you finished as he threw yours into the wash to get them clean for you once again. You were feeling better, you felt fresh and rejuvenated and pure joy was flooding through your veins as the two of you poured over takeout menu options as Indiana Jones played in the background on the tv screen, the door opening and slamming closed shocking you so much you almost fell from the couch.

“You’re wearing my sweater.” You pinche the fabric between your fingers, having grown so accustomed to borrowing clothes from either of the Stilinski boys that you had lost track of which item of clothing belonged to whom, and your eyes flicked up to meet his for only a second, widening as you took in his bloodied knuckles, grazed cheek and a bruised jaw.

“My clothes will be done soon. I’ll give it back in a minute. I didn’t know.” Your voice was scratchy and full of emotion as you spoke, your gaze leaving him when he could only muster a nod in response, before he was taking the stairs two at a time and disappearing upstairs. Your jaw dropped as you turned or his brother, a smirk on his face and you slapped him on the arm for giving you the wrong hoodie, but your eyebrow raised too. “What happened to him?”

“Well, I think - I think - he got in a fight.”

Your face dropped at his sarcasm, and you scowled at him, flicking him on the tip of his adorably sweet nose and his face scrunched up at the action, his tongue flicking out to prod at the tingling tip of his nose, his eyes crossing as he pulled a face at you and the action prompted a giggle from you, but you whined at him as you encouraged him to tell you what happened.

“Fine! Fine. If I’m taking a wild guess here, I’d say that he wasn’t too happy about the fact that you got borderline assaulted by some random alphas on your way over here, and so he headed out and got himself in yet another punch up for your honour.” Stiles paused, glancing at you carefully, before continuing on; “He’s miserable without you, he misses you.”

“Oh.”

Silence sat between the two of you, and you picked at your nails, choosing to snuggle into the couch and watch the movie, ignoring Stiles’ burning gaze on the side of your head, before he snapped, pausing the movie and groaning loudly when five minutes of silence, bar the tv noise, had passed by and you still hadn't budged. “Oh, my God. This is killing me, please just go and talk to him?”

You looked over at him, your jaw hung slack and he fixed you with a stern glare, both of you knowing you wanted to, and eventually you were heaving yourself up from the couch, climbing the stairs slowly as you made your way to the bathroom. He was rifling through a first aid kit when you approached, and you clicked the door shut behind you, leaning back against it, and he swallowed thickly when he glanced up and saw you, pausing his search through the small medkit as he cleared his throat.

“Hey.”

He winced at the sound of his own voice, and you simply nodded, moving toward him and plucking items for the box, well experienced in patching him up after fights by now, and he simply allowed you, choosing to lean back on the counter until he was the same height as you.

“What are you and Stiles doing?”

When he eventually spoke again, you were in the middle of dabbing a fresh ball of disinfectant soaked cotton along his grazed cheek and cleaning it up, your movements pausing, and you dropped your hand to look at him. “We were opening college letters together. He got his from GWU and I got my top choice, y’know, the college we went to look at together.” He frowned at your words, but licked over his lips, nodding and putting on a fake smile as you went back to work.

“And how did it go?”

“We both got in.” You got caught up in your thoughts as you discarded the cotton wool ball, squeezing bruise cream out onto your fingers and holding his face, tilting it to the side so you could smooth the paste across the skin and rub it in gently. “It’s great, actually, it means I’m only a two-hour drive from Stiles, so I won’t be quiet as alone as I would have been at any others, y’know? He’s there if I need someone.”

“You never would have been alone.” His words were whispered, and you paused, silence falling over the two of you as you rubbed healing gel onto the cuts and scrapes on his skin, and you packed away the kit, putting it back in the cupboard once the box was sealed shut and the anticipation was killing him, his mind spinning as he tried to find words to get you to talk to him, to talk about what happened, anything. “You didn’t tell me why you wanted those leaflets.”

Your eyes narrowed on him as his eyes widened, your eyebrows pulled together as your jaw ticked in anger. “You didn’t exactly give me a chance to explain.”

“That’s not what I meant. I mean, well, you didn’t come back to the room for hours an-”

“Oh, so it’s my fault that you slept with someone else in our bed? I’m so sorry you were forced to have sex with the hottest whore you could find because I was trying to give you space after you stormed off and ignored my calls and texts.” You were growling at him, his alpha instincts kicking up in both rage and lust at your feisty attitude, and yet he hated the way it was making him feel, because he was further fucking up what he had already fucked up, just because he couldn't find the right words to say. “You couldn’t even wait one night during an argument before needing to get your dick wet again?”

“I thought we were breaking up, or breaking off whatever we were..”

“Couples don't just break up after one fight! No relationship would ever last if they did!” His breath felt punched from his lungs as he stared at you, eyes wide as you huffed, cheeks flushed from your shouting and you ran a hand through your hair, because you had confirmed it for him, and he couldn’t help the smile that was forming on his face.

“We’re a real couple?”

“Well, I thought we were, but then I came back to find you in bed with another chick, so..” You prodded at his chest, and he couldn't find it within himself to be angry because his hands were finding your hips and he was pulling you closer to him, even if your hands did flatten against his chest in a very weak and rapidly abandoned effort to push him away. Your arms ended up crushed between the two of you as he pulled you in close, raising a hand to tuck some hair behind your ear, the tip of his nose bumping against your own.

“I want that for us. I want that to be us. I want us to be a real couple.”

You sighed, your anger slipping away as you looked up at him, shaking your head fondly, the word ‘dumbass’ slipping out under your breath, as you leaned in, resting your forehead on his shoulder and laughing under your breath. A muffled voice came through the door, smug even through his warm tone, as he told you he was going to go over to Derek’s for a few hours, and congratulating you for working it out.

Once the front door clicked shut, the sound of the jeep starting up, his fingers found yours, lacing your fingers together, he pulled you from the bathroom, guiding you along the familiar route to his bedroom. Kicking the door shut behind him, he picked up a torn open envelope from the desk and waved it at you, your eyes taking in the logo, flicking back up to him, filled with hope. “I got in, too.”

You jumped into his arms, his arms wrapping around your waist as you squealed, his arms wrapping around your waist as he laughed into your ear, spinning you in a circle before placing you back on the ground, ideas and thoughts already spilling from your mouth. You still had all the brochures for clubs you’d thought he might like, and you were waving excitedly as you told him all about the tours he’d missed, that there were joint dorm rooms, and how maybe the two of you could get one together.

Slipping a hand into your hair and one on your hip, he silenced you, his mouth closed over yours mid-sentence and cutting you off as he pressed a loving and passionate kiss toy our lips, his finger straightening in your hair and on your hip when your lips pressed back to his with just as much vigour. Your arms wrapped around his neck, stabilising you as the depth of the kiss made your legs shake, his tongue tracing the seam of your own and you happily parted them for you, his head tipping to the side to allow himself deeper access to your mouth.

“You’ve never kissed me like that before.” Your words were spoken breathlessly, your eyes still closed, his too, his lips barely brushing against yours as he took a deep breath, and he hummed lowly, the sound rumbling from his chest as he squeezed at your hips. He licked over his lower lip, catching against yours too, and you chased his lips a little, a chuckle on his lips as he gave you a sweet but short kiss, indulging you just enough to gain a little sigh from your lips as you rocked back from standing on your tiptoes to on the flats of your feet. “Why have you never kissed me like that before?”

“It’s not for a lack of wanting to.” He teased, and your hands slipped down from his shoulders to grip at his waist, tugging needily on the edge of his shirt to pull him closer to you, a needy whine on your lips as he indulged you, pressing the front of his body up to yours. “People who are faking it don’t kiss like that.”

“I really wouldn’t have complained.”

“Good to know.” He smirked, dipping back down to once again kiss you, his tongue slipping straight between your lips to toy with your own, your body going pliant in his hold as the slow kiss took your breath away. Your feet were moving beneath you in stumbling steps, until the backs of your legs met the silky fabric of his bedsheets, and you tore your lips away from his, taking a deep breath as you did, lips wet and slightly swollen as you looked between him and the mattress. You’d been on his bed before, laying across it with books and laptops spread out around the two of you. You’d been in his bed before, his arm looped around your waist and your back pressed up to his front as you took a peaceful nap, and yet this context was entirely different.

His hands slipped to your jaw, guiding your face back to his, and his thumbs smoothed over your cheeks as dark eyes stared into yours lovingly. “Tell me what’s going on in that little head of yours.”

You licked your lips, looking down and nodding as you tried to clear your thoughts, your hands tugging the ends of his t-shirt and lifting it up, your hands slipping under the thin fabric to brush over his skin, his muscles tensing under your touch, rippling as your trailed your fingertips from his sides to the happy trail covering the loosely defined abs under his shirt. “First of all, I really want you to take your shirt off.”

He grinned cheekily, his head tipping to the side and he let you push the material up his sides, before he was reaching behind his neck and peeling the top from his body, dropping it to the floor and letting you smooth your hands over the hard planes of his chest. He flexed the muscles under your touch, your lips clamped between your teeth, and his hands found the edges of the jumper that belonged to him, hanging around your mid-thighs and he tugged it up to your waist, catching your eye as he looked for confirmation from you. Lifting your arms up above your head, he dragged the material away from your body, a growl sounding from him as your body lay bare beneath the fabric, his eyes darkening and he skimmed his hands over your sides, a short pant leaving him as he watched your nipples pearl in the cold air, standing taut for him and just begging to be licked at. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

“What I want.. like, really want, is to not go to college as an unmarked omega.”

A sound you had never heard him make before rumbled from him, the vibrations of it practically carrying in the air as the deep sound shot straight to your core and your whole body shivered as his face flicked with a range of emotions. It was borderline pornographic; the possessive, aroused and purely desperate noise he had made and your knees buckled under you in submission, his arm catching you around your waist and pulling you in close to him as he used his other hand to tilt your head to the side, allowing him to nip and bite along the flesh of your jaw.

Licking a wet stripe along the skin at the base of your neck, goosebumps coated your skin at the feeling and he took a deep breath, holding your gaze on his once he pulled back. Placing a sloppy and frantic kiss to your lips, he pushed you back onto the bed, crawling over you quickly and caging you in on the mattress, the tip of his nose bumping yours. “You’re my omega.”

Everything possessive in him made everything instinctual in you needy, your hips rolling up into his, your breath punched from your lungs and he met your rolls thrust for thrust, his cock hardening in his jeans, a hand on one of your thighs, lifting your leg up so he could slot himself between your legs. “Going to mark you up, make you mine so everyone knows. My pretty little omega, all mine.”

“All yours, alpha. Make me yours.”

Some kind of cross between a whimper and a groan from him was muffled by his lips on yours, and he trailed his kisses along your jaw, sucking and lapping at your skin as he went, ensuring that he was leaving hickies dotted along your flesh as he went, taking his time and holding you softly. Closing his lips around one of your nipples, your back arched up into his mouth, the rough pad of his tongue swirling over it, pleasure jolting through your body at the stimulation, one hand coming up to lace into his hair, tugging a handful into a fist.

Giving the other the same stimulation, his fingers danced over your ribs and sides as he moved down to slip his fingers under the elastic of the large sweatpants on your hips, wet kisses moving along your navel before he paused, blowing cool air streams over the shining trails left on your skin.

“You’re not wearing any panties are you?” He grumbled deep in his throat when you shook your head. “I can fucking smell you, baby, I bet you’re just dripping for me.” Placing a light at the outside of your thighs, your hips lifted for him, feet planted flat on the mattress as he peeled the fabric away, dropping them to the carpet to join your top and his already there. With a hand on each knee, he parted your thigh, inhaling deeply and kissing at the inside of each thigh, fingers massaging your flesh as he worked his way up to your dripping core. “You want my mouth, baby?”

“Yes, please.”

“Anything for you.” With that, he dragged the tip of his tongue from your entrance to your clit, sealing his lips around the bud and sucking harshly, a squeal leaving you as your back arched. He repeated the action, twice, before he was settling more comfortable on the bed, his arms wrapping around the backs of your thighs to hold you still as he lapped at the delectable taste of your juices sliding from you.

He was taking his time, teasing your entrance and occasionally dipping his tongue into you, his teeth scraping over your clit and your toes curled as he slurped and sucked, your walls squeezing around him as his fingers dug into your skin. Slipping one hand up, he pushed the pad of his tongue down on your clit, rubbing slow and delicate circles into the bud and you tugged at his hair, moans spilling from your lips as the languid stroked of his tongue sparked a fire to start curling on your stomach, a climax slowly beginning to build as your muscles began to tighten.

With a particularly harsh suck, your toes curled, a whimper leaving you, your hips rolling into his face and he picked up his speed and force, your thighs clamping around his head, his hair tickling against the skin and you could feel his sharp jaw moving quickly, before he pried your legs back open as far as he could get them, growling into your pussy as the vibrations shot along your nerves.

Raising one of your own hands to paw at your tits, you tugged on your nipples, groping at the mounds as you dragged yourself into a climax, your back leaving the bed as you rolled your hips into his face, his name leaving your lips in a mantra, body shaking and tensed as your eyes squeezed shut. He continued his ministrations, dragging your orgasm out for as long as he could, until he was pulling back with shiny marks on his chin and a filthy smirk, wiping his chin on the back of his hand before leaning over you and planting a hot and open-mouthed kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself briefly on his tongue.

“You taste fucking delicious.” He whispered the words to you, bumping your noses together and running his hands gently over your body, your own finger catching around his wrists to still his movements and he looked at you curiously, a brow raised. Leaning up, you caught his lips with your own, nibbling on his lower one and he growled, pulling back to give you a mock glare as he took your hands, pinning them to the bed above your head and chasing your mouth, your lips meeting in a rough collision. “Such a pretty girl for me, all flushed and fucked out.”

“I’m not fucked out yet, you’re taking too long.” You retorted, and he huffed, pinching at your side as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, wrapping with your own as they visible played between your quick and needy kisses, your body already building back up as he slipped a hand up to swipe at your core, chuckling at the wetness that was already building.

“I’m trying to be a good alpha and look after my beautiful omega.”

“Well, could you look after your omega by fucking me senseless until I’m screaming?” His jaw dropped, a loud and unashamed moan leaving him at your words, his eyes only getting darker as he gaped at you. Lifting a hand from where it supported him above you, he cupped your cheek, his thumb tugging down your lower lip from a second as he licked at his own and thought about his actions.

“Since when did you have such a filthy fucking mouth on you, sweetheart?” You grinned, shifting just enough to suck the digit between your lips, a breathy sigh leaving him as you swirled your tongue around the pad, sucking lightly and grazing his finger with your teeth, winking at him and his eyes glazed over and went half-lidded as your actions. “I thought you were cute and innocent, huh?”

“I could be dirty just for you.”

“You have no idea what you do to me, sweetheart.” He mumbled, and you raised a brow, taking one of your hands from the spot he pinned them too and dragging your nails across his torso lightly, before cupping at the prominent bulge in his jeans and squeezing tightly, his hips bucking down onto your palm.

“I think I have a pretty good idea.” You teased, and he grinned, kissing you quickly before rocking back to kneel between your legs, popping the button on his jeans and tearing the zipper down.

“Tell me how you want it, baby. Tell me what you want from your alpha.” Standing up, he dropped the denim, palming at himself through the black cotton of his boxer-briefs and kicking the restraining material from around his ankles.

“I want it hard, and rough. I want you to fuck me so good that I’m seeing stars, and so I know nobody will ever be as good as you. I want you to mark me, make me yours.” He bit on his lower lip, dropping his boxers and stroking at his length, wandering across the room to snatch a condom from the top drawer of his desk. Tearing the top of the packet open with his teeth, he rolled the rubber along his impressive shaft, his cock bouncing in its stiff position as he made his way over to you.

“Nobody will ever get to know, because you’re all mine, for the rest of your life. You’re mine, baby, my omega.” Rolling his body back over yours, your arms looped around his neck, a quick peck being pressed to your lips before he lined himself up, sinking into you quickly and his jaw dropped as your wet warmth encased him, his thick cock stretching you out deliciously. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

“I think that’s just the fact that you have a massive cock.”

His arms shook at your words, a loud laugh leaving him and he fixed you with a loving look as he settled still, the environment around you being somewhere between playful and intense, hot and still relaxed, and you’d never felt more loved. Pulling his mouth down to yours, you kissed him deeply, your walls fluttering around him as you conveyed everything you felt, a sweet noise of approval sounding on his mouth. He returned the gesture enthusiastically, before easing his hips out of you, his mouth open against yours as he gasped at the feeling of your walls trying to pull him back in.

Leaning away, he smirked at you, pushing a hand up over your body as he pressed you back into the mattress, his fingers sealing around your throat just tight enough to excite you, flexing against the column of your throat, the edges of your lips tipping up in a grin, flashing your teeth to him as he rocked his hips back into yours, joint moans leaving the two of you. The pace picked up rapidly, the fingers of his other hand clenching in the sheets as he rammed his cock into you, the breath forced from your lungs with each slam he made into you.

Your walls squeezed around him, cursed hissed out between his teeth as his jaw clenched, a whimper falling from you as you watched the man above you pound you into oblivion. His eyes were locked on yours, a thin sheen of sweat on your skin as your name fell from his lips on repeat, your back arching up and chest rubbing against his as he fucked you.

Hiking a leg up higher onto his waist, he sunk into you further, quickly dropping himself down from his palm to his forearm, his nose bumping against yours, hot breath from his pants washing over your skin and you dipped your tongue from your mouth, licking at his lips teasing and he growled, his mouth slanting over yours as he slowed his pace.

Scooping you up under your shoulder blades, he pulled you back, until he was sitting back on his heels and you were perched in his lap, his pulsing cock buried within you deeper than ever as you sat on his thighs and your hands tightening in his hair, pulling on fistfuls. Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, your chests pressed together tightly as slick skin slid against slick skin, and his hands gripped your hips in a bruising hold as he bounced you on his cock, your eyes rolling back. “Oh, you feel so fucking good, sweetheart. Tight and wet for me.”

Once the pace was set, your legs tightened around him, and you did your best to meet his movements, one of his hands slipping down to palm at your ass, short nails scraping over your skin. Pulling his hand back, he slapped down on your skin roughly, your hips jumping into his and you whimpered, pushing his palm smoothing over the stinging flesh and you pushed back into his hand, a breathless chuckle released against your mouth as he groped at the flesh, repeating the action as your skin burned and flushed red, the sweet sound of his name in a cry leaving you, and he moved across, kissing down your jaw.

Tipping your head back, your hair fell away from your shoulder as you exposed your neck to him, your stomach twisting when he licked over the slightly sweaty patch, scraping his teeth over the place he would mark you. The high inside of you was building, your hips rocking down into his as he assisted you. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been so sure of anything.”

He swallowed thickly, slamming you down onto his cock and holding you there tightly as he bit down onto your skin, your body flashing with heat and pure bliss as you exploded around him, shaking in his arms as you came, your eyes rolling back in your head and the dull and throbbing pain of the bite mark he gave you was overruled by the feeling of pure love coursing through your body. He dropped your bed back to the mattress, an animalistic sound leaving him as he hiked your leg up onto his shoulder, loud shots and grunts spilling from him as he fucked himself into you so quickly that your eyes were rolling back and you were seeing stars.

Licking the pads of two fingers, he dropped them to your swollen clit and rubbed harshly, screams tearing from your lips as you trembled in his hold, your eyes rolled back as you came from a second time, your core flooding his cock with arousal, ecstasy flooding your veins and walls clamping around him. His body dropped down onto yours as he came, thrusting weakly into you to prolong your peaks as much as he could, your body quivering under him as you caught your breath.

Your arms wrapped around him tightly, holding his body to you despite the fact that his weight was crushing you and he made a happy sound, nuzzling into your neck and kissing over the mark on your neck, a deep sigh being let out before he pulled out of you, a groan on his lips as he got up from the bed, tying the condom off and dropping it into the bin before grabbing a handful of tissues, kneeling beside you as he wiped the stray blood from the bite mark on your shoulder.

He trailed a finger around it, a smile on his lips as he looked at you. “You have my mark.”

“Yeah, I do.” He chuckled at your words, and tipped your neck to the side so he could admire his work, and you shuffled backwards up the bed, his body following you, your head finding the pillow as you snuggled into the plush cushions happily.

“You’re perfect, absolutely perfect.” Dropping down beside you, his fingers brushed through your hair, smoothing it away behind your ears and you grinned at him, letting him adjust you carefully as he tucked the covers around you, a giggle on your lips as he fussed over you. “What are you laughing at?”

“You’re in alpha-overdrive.”

“Shut up.” He grumbled, scowling at the smile on your lips as you let him fuss over you. “I’ve been suppressing my urge to go ‘alpha-overdrive’ on you for fucking months.” He settled himself under the covers beside you, his arms wrapped tightly around you, a yawn on your lips as you nuzzled into his body.

“I wasn’t complaining, I like it.”

“Good, because I’m going to be looking after you for the rest of our goddamn lives, little omega. I’ll be the best alpha the world has ever fucking seen.” He kissed at your cheek, arm tightening around you more as the two of you laid back, bodies aching and tired but thoroughly satisfied. “So, why don’t you tell me all about those college dorms, hm?”

“You’re going to absolutely love them.”

777 notes · View notes

yuthoe · 4 years ago

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Day 22: Reunion (MONSTA X: Yoo Kihyun)

TODAY'S LATE PROMPT FOR MTM IS:

Day 22: Fake Dating

ah yes, one of the favorite tropes in fanfic and i did not do it justice at all lmao. truthfully i was really excited about this, but the fic took a left somewhere and grew its own mind or smth. i think the poor writing is a combination of burnout and getting really distracted lmao.

tried to make kihyun the savage guy that he is, but still polite and considerate and i think i did that???? question mark???? please tell me what you thought about this lmao, i've never been to a high school reunion (except for my grandma's) and will never go to one anytime soon.

PAIRING: Yoo Kihyun x reader. GENRE: fic, fluff, mild angst. WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol, swearing. WORD COUNT: 1,769.

---

“Act natural,” you say as you smooth down the lapels of your friend’s coat, dust some lint off the shoulders. “Like, just act like normal. We just have to say hi to a few people and then go after an hour or something.”

Kihyun is looking you over as well, straightening out the sleeves of your shirt and making sure your hair is nice and styled and perfect. “I’m taking that as a go signal to tease you in front of everyone then, gotcha.”

You roll your eyes and take his hand, tugging him towards the glass door of the events hall. “Very funny, but you know what? These people might buy it even more, so go ahead.”

He intertwines your fingers as he pushes the door open for you. There’s a smirk on his face that says you’re going to regret what you just said. “If you say so," he says, as you pull him along with you.

Everything is decorated like a senior prom from the early 2000s--balloons everywhere, streamers hung up on the walls, a disco ball suspended in the middle of the room. There's a stage set up at the far wall, and popular tracks from your high school days play softly on the sound system. People are already mingling, table hopping when they see a familiar face.

You go to the small registration booth off to the side, Kihyun in tow, and sign on the space next to your name, walking away quickly to find a table. It's easy to weave through the thin crowd to your spot, and thankfully no one goes up to talk to you as you settle in.

A relieved sigh escapes your lips as you deflate against the seat; Kihyun chuckles at the sight.

"Why are you so nervous? You were so confident when you asked me out,” he says, smirking at your flustered state.

“Hey,” you counter, sitting up straight and pointing at him. There’s a smile of embarrassment threatening to crawl up your face, but you force it down. “This isn’t a date. I didn’t ask you out—I respectfully asked if you could come with me to my high school reunion and pretend we’re dating. There’s a difference.”

He tilts his head and laughs. “Okay, fine, this isn’t a date. But you’re shaking like a hamster, dude. What’s got you so jittery?”

Before you can open your mouth to say something smart, a yell of your name behind you makes you stop. Suddenly a flurry of pink silk ruffles envelops you, cold metal bracelets press against your face and neck, and a tinnitus-inducing squeal is blasted in your ear.

“OMG, I can’t believe you made it!” The offending classmate plops down the seat beside you and… you can’t say you remember her. You know you have a questionable memory, but you can’t recall anyone with a scarily-toothy smile and long acrylic nails. “I was wondering if you were gonna show today, I missed you!”

You smile warily. “Yeah, I thought I’d stop by, just for a bi—,”

“And who is this with you?” she interrupts, gaze fixed on your friend now.

Kihyun still has a polite smile on, eyebrow raised and patiently waiting for you to introduce him. You meet his eyes and take a steadying breath.

“This is, uh. Kihyun. My boyfriend.”

Your batchmate immediately extends a hand out to him. “Hi there! I’m Danhee. It’s very nice to meet you.”

Kihyun grasps her hand and shakes it firmly. “Likewise.”

Danhee (apparently, that’s her name. Still doesn’t ring a bell.) turns back to you, props an elbow on the table and rests her chin on her hand. “So what have you been up to lately?”

“Oh, you know, nothing much,” you say, twiddling your thumbs under the table. “Work’s keeping me busy, mostly. It’s pretty—,”

“Great! How’d you two meet?” Her eyes are sparkling, in that menacing way you’re familiar with when someone is hunting for gossip. “Probably work, right? I know Y/N isn’t that outgoing so I doubt—,”

“You know what, I’m gonna go get a drink.” You turn to Kihyun, desperate to get away. “You want a drink, Kihyun? Cool, I’ll get you something.” The chair screeches as you push away from the table and make a beeline for the buffet.

The air conditioning helps cool down your flaming face as you leave to get some reprieve from the suffocating air of the table. No matter how much you wrack your brain you can’t seem to remember anyone named Danhee; maybe she was in another class and part of the popular clique, a group you tended to stay away from.

You take a deep breath, surveying the array of finger food and wonder briefly what the main dishes are. The arrangement is no different from the ones you’ve seen at company parties—save maybe for the small picket signs that have slang from your high school days speared into some of the food. Despite looking delicious, you feel nauseous at the thought of taking a bite.

The drinks corner offers coffee, the kind that tries to pass off as Americano but ends up tasting more like candy because people keep putting too much sugar in it. It’s what you and Kihyun call “conference coffee” and shit on for the entirety of the conference you’re attending, even as you keep drinking it because there’s usually no other choice. Water is an option, as well as a fruit punch of some kind. If you’re being honest, you’d really like a beer right now, but you know the alcohol won’t come out until later.

In addition to the mound of paperwork you forced yourself to finish earlier, this week has just been plain exhausting. You’d hoped that coming to the reunion would help you relax, but apparently not.

Ice cubes clink as they go down the tall glasses. The coffee, however sugary it turns out to be, still smells heavenly and wakes you up some. You water both servings down a bit, if only to tamp down the syrupy sweetness.

“Hey,” a familiar voice says, hand coming down to rest on your shoulder. Kihyun moves into your line of vision, brows slightly scrunched. “You okay there?”

You don’t answer, thinking of words to say that won’t make you look pathetic in front of your work partner. You’re usually great at explaining and justifying your actions to your superiors, but words fail you this time.

So you just shrug and hand him his drink. “Can’t say for sure.” You take a sip and cringe; your mouth feels like it’s coated in a thick layer of sugar. Kihyun watches you and decides wisely to put his drink down, but pours two glasses of water.

“Do you know her?” he asks, concentrating on the drinks.

“Danhee? Nah. I mostly avoided her type back then. Being around them made me uncomfy.”

“‘Cuz she looks like a part of the Plastics from Mean Girls?”

You scoff. “No,” you say, but smile all the same as you walk back to your table. “Because I was a loner and operated on the mindset of ‘I’m not like other girls’ throughout high school.”

Kihyun laughs loud. “God, I didn’t think you were the type.”

“Unfortunately, yeah.” You sigh as you sit back down. “Thankfully outgrew that in college, though. Turns out being surrounded with a lot of open-minded people does something to your personality, and,” you open your arms, presenting yourself to Kihyun’s amused smile. “Now you have me, your beloved hardworking partner that throws snark at you everyday.”

If anything, his grin gets wider. Kihyun raises his glass of water, and you toast. “I’m proud of you for becoming so mature.” He takes a drink, making faces like he’s downing whiskey instead of regular water. “Although, apparently not mature enough to just ask me out plain and simple.”

You want to strangle him, you really do.

He’s right, though. Part of the reason why you invited him as your plus one is for moral support and to show people that the wallflower can also nab a man as great as Kihyun. But the other reason is that you’ve wanted to ask Kihyun on a date, but just didn’t know how to without embarrassing yourself.

You sigh and take a swig of your water. “Yeah, well, can you blame me, though? We always keep professional at work and I barely see you outside the building, so I haven’t really gotten a chance to ask.” You’re not lying—Kihyun being here is only possible because you left the building at the same time last week and asked him then before you chickened out.

He tilts his head in assent and takes another sip before crossing his arms on the table to whisper at you. “How about we make this a date, then?”

You raise an eyebrow, smiling like you can’t believe he suggested such a ridiculous thing. “What—here? My high school reunion that I only invited you to because I didn’t want to be alone?”

And maybe it’s the trick of the light, but you think you see his eyes go soft. “Well, yeah. I mean, it’s not ideal, but we’re here anyway. There’s free food, shitty coffee, and some entertainment.” He tilts his head to the stage, and you follow his gaze to where a couple of your batchmates are discussing something, mics in their hands. “Whether it’s the good kind of entertainment or the cringy kind though, we’ll find out soon,” you hear him whisper.

In theory, you have nothing to lose. Nothing really to hide. Perhaps the worst part of the night passed when you had that panicked moment with Danhee earlier, and all that’s left is to enjoy the night. You can still leave in an hour or two like you planned, but now with a higher chance of getting a few drinks afterwards, too.

So you make your decision and look back at him. “All right, Yoo Kihyun,” you say. “You’ve got yourself a date.”

His smile morphs into a smirk, the trademark confident grin making a small shudder run down your spine. You try to keep your composure as he slides a hand to your thigh. “Perfect. Wanna bet you’ll last an hour before you want to leave?” His fingers are massaging your knee, soft hands gentle on the meat of your thigh.

You scoff, grabbing at his hand to make him stop. “Deal. I’ll bet you an hour and a half.”

And before you turn your attention back to the stage, you see his smirk again, excited for the challenge.

#kdiarynet #monsta x #monsta x kihyun #yoo kihyun #monsta x kihyun scenario #monsa x kihyun imagine #kihyun scenrio #kihyun imagine #yoo kihyun scenario #yoo khyun imagine #monsta x scenario #monsta x imagine #fic: mine #fic: not spicy #fic: kihyun #theme: may trope mayhem 2021

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princess-of-riviaa · 5 years ago

Text

Secrets

Pairing: Clark Kent x Reader

Summary: Superman saves you on the darkest night of your life. A year later, your best friend and colleague Clark Kent makes a confession.

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of depression, attempted suicide

Warning(s): angst(ish), oral (m receiving)

Word Count: 3,170

Your mind is silent, empty. All you can think about is the ground below you, growing ever closer with each passing second. Your instinct is to scream, but the way your stomach is in your throat and the wind burns your lungs, you have no air to scream out. This is it. This is how it ends. Your arms flail around you desperately, your body determined to stop the fall, but you keep moving towards the ground anyways. The ground is twenty feet away. Ten feet. Five--

Something wraps around you. You can’t see what it is, nor can your brain move fast enough to process what’s happening, but suddenly you’re moving up, up, up--back to the roof you jumped off of.

You struggle to breathe as you’re set down on the roof, your heart beating so fast that your head is spinning. You were seconds away from dying. You should be dead right now.

Why aren’t you dead right now?

You look in front of you. A red cape waves in the wind. You recognize the man in the blue suit the way anyone would. Superman.

“Are you alright?” he asks, his eyes scanning your body with protective worry. “Did you slip? What are you doing on the roof?”

You put your hands on your knees, struggling to calm your breathing. Every muscle inside of you is tensed. Your brain still can’t process the fact that you’re not dead right now. You should be.

“Why the hell did you do that?!” you scream at him. Tears pour down your face faster than you can stop them.

“You were about to die,” the hero in blue tights tells you, like you’re an idiot who has yet to realize that.

“That’s the point!” you cry out. “I didn’t slip!” Nothing about this was accidental.

His face falls when he realizes your meaning. The look he gives you… it’s too vulnerable a look for a stranger to give.

“Don’t look at me like that. Someone else probably needs saving. Go somewhere you’re wanted.” You don’t mean to be a bitch, but you’d worked so hard to get to this point. To come to terms with your death, to plan it all out, even to act it out. And at the very last second it all went crashing down.

“I’m not leaving until I know you won’t try to do this again,” he says.

You want to scream in his face. He’s ruined everything!

He steps towards you, but you take two steps back. He holds his hands up, showing you he’s not going to try anything, and says, “Let me take you to the ground, and then I’ll leave.”

You’d much rather punch him than let him carry you to safety. But the look on his face is stubborn and you know he’s not about to leave you alone until you agree. So you huff and nod your head.

He closes the distance between you. Something about him feels familiar, almost… safe. His arms wrap around you, pulling you tight against him so he won’t lose his grip, and only then do you realize how strong he is. You feel his biceps dance against your back as he adjusts you in his arms. It almost takes your breath away. If you were someone else--if you had enough hope to think about these things--you’d be attracted to him. There’s something about how his black waves of hair resembles the night sky, while his bright blue eyes look like the sky at high noon, that pulls you in.

Superman picks you up easily, lifting you like you weigh no more than a feather. His grip is tight around you as he slowly lowers the both of you to the ground. It’s breathtaking--his flight, his strength. As soon as your feet touch the ground of the parking lot, he lets go of you and moves a respectful distance away.

“What’s your name?” you find yourself wondering.

He smiles at you. “Superman.”

You shake your head. “No, I mean your real name. Who are you?”

All he says is, “I’m just a man that believes, wholeheartedly, that the world is better off with you in it.”

“You don’t even know me--” you begin, but he’s already gone, a shooting star in the night sky.

…

ONE YEAR LATER

The sound of your glasses clinking is drowned out by the noisy chatter of the restaurant around you. You take a long sip of your wine, feeling Clark’s gaze on you as you do.

“Rough day?” he jokes.

You shake your head and set your glass down, returning to your food. “Just the opposite. This article is going to put us on the map. Your writing is going to make us famous, Clark Kent.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Clark insists humbly. “We’re a team.”

Your cheeks begin to burn with how much you’ve been smiling. It’s mind blowing to think how much your life has changed in just eleven months. A year ago you were lost, fighting against your depression and losing, and now you’re a successful woman living in the city. You run a yoga class on weeknights and buy a new book for your collection every paycheck. You’ve really learned how to take care of yourself.

“Can I say something, as a friend? I don’t want it to come across as weird,” Clark says, playing with his fork nervously.

Your stomach knots. “Uh, yeah. Go ahead.”

“It makes me really happy to see you like this,” he confesses. “You’re always smiling lately, you really brighten up the office.”

You feel your cheeks burn. You’d been expecting him to say something bad. But of course he didn’t; this is Clark. He’s the sweetest man you’ve ever met. You’re very happy you’re friends with him.

“I am happy,” you admit. “Things have really turned around for me this year.” You hesitate, wanting to tell him the one thing you’ve never told anyone, but you’re afraid. He won’t look at you the same after you tell him. No one ever does when you mention depression.

“What is it?” Clark, ever the mind-reader, notices that you’re holding back from him. “You look like you want to say something.” He reaches across the small table and holds your hand. A spark of heat shoots up your arm, making your heart race.

You’ve had feelings for Clark for a while, but you’ve forced yourself to keep things professional. You work together on a lot of investigative pieces. You can’t afford to have a fling, end it poorly, and then lose a coworker. But that doesn’t mean that every time you two take the elevator in the morning, you don’t feel a heat between him and you; or that every time his hand accidentally brushes yours, the touch doesn’t register in your core, making you ache for more.

“It’s me,” Clark says, giving you that smile that always makes you give in to him. “You can tell me anything, you know.”

You hesitate. “It’s just… nothing. Never mind. Don’t worry about it.”

But he shakes his head insistently. “If it’s bothering you this much, it’s clearly not nothing.”

So you tell him. About your failed suicide attempt. About your run in with Superman. About how you held a grudge against the beloved hero for several months because for such a long time, you regretted not dying. You regretted staying alive. And then, when you finally got the help you needed through regular therapy sessions, you felt like you could breathe again. Like this entire time you’d been drowning under ten-foot waves and you can finally come up for air again. And now you feel like you owe Superman everything, if only you knew who he was.

Clark doesn’t let go of your hand the entire time you talk. His touch manages to soothe you enough to make you tell him everything. He waits until you’ve gotten everything out before saying anything.

“You really want to know who Superman is?” he wonders.

You nod. “I want to pay him back. Or thank him at the very least.”

He hesitates. “Can I show you something?”

You nod. “Of course.”

“It’s at my apartment,” he warns. “Are you comfortable with me taking you there?”

You’ve known Clark long enough to know he’s not trying to trick you into anything. And even if he was, you wouldn’t object, not that you’d ever tell him that. But you nod.

Clark pays for the meal and you walk to his car. As you turn to grab your seat belt, though, your skirt rises up. You tense. A sliver of your black underwear is revealed and you look up to see Clark’s eyes locked on your legs. He’s silent as he swallows and suddenly the air between you is heated, stiff. You quickly pull your skirt back down and do your best to laugh it off, though it just comes out breathy and tense. Clark doesn’t mention it though, much to your relief.

His apartment is a quick seven minute drive from the Italian restaurant you’d just finished eating at. You’re both quiet throughout the drive, the walk to the elevator, and the ride up to his floor. But it’s an easy silence, one only people who are very close can experience.

Clark hesitates outside his apartment door. “What I’m about to show you… it’s an important secret. I trust you enough to show you, and I think you need to know this, but I ask that you don’t tell anyone.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Are you showing me your prized Pokemon collection?”

But he doesn’t laugh like you’d expected him to. He’s very serious about this, you realize.

You nod. “Of course, Clark. You don’t have to worry about me saying anything. But now you’ve got me dying of curiosity, so please open the door.”

He does. You’ve been to his place before--when your deadlines have crept up on you and you magically had to pull one-thousand words out of your ass by midnight, Clark’s place became the place to be--and you know your way around to know that he’s leading you to his bedroom. You grow a little uneasy, if only because this is very much starting to feel like a trap. But Clark walks right past his queen-sized bed and towards his closet.

“I just… try not to freak out,” Clark says as he pulls something out.

You frown as he turns to face you with a folded shirt in his hands. It’s a deep blue and made of what looks like latex. You’d have no idea what is or what importance it holds--if it weren’t for the red-and-gold S engraved in the middle. But you still struggle to comprehend what he’s showing you.

“So you’re… a secret Superman fanatic?” you guess.

Clark laughs. “Not exactly.”

You refuse to believe what he’s trying to tell you. “Clark, I need you to spell it out for me.”

You watch him take off his glasses and hold the outfit up to his body. It’s… off-putting is the first word that comes to mind. He looks exactly like Superman. But that’s impossible. If Clark were Superman, you would’ve figured it out by now. You’re not an idiot, nor are you blind. But he looks like a different person without those glasses. And with that costume held up to his body…

“Clark…” you manage to get out, still refusing to believe what’s right in front of your eyes.

“You know what I’m trying to tell you,” he insists.

Part of you doesn’t want to believe it. Clark is your partner-in-crime, your friend… Superman is some stranger that ran into you on the worst night of your life. You don’t want to combine the two. You want to keep Clark--who practically embodies everything good about your present life--as far away from the reminder of the broken thing you used to be.

But you have to ask… “Who are you?”

Clark just smiles and says, “I’m just a man that believes, wholeheartedly, that the world is better off with you in it.” The same words Superman had spoken to you eleven months ago.

Your legs cave in on you. Luckily you land on the edge of Clark’s bed. You’re silent as your brain finally begins to accept all of this. Clark watches you carefully, trying to gauge your reaction. He finally moves to sit beside you. Though his thigh brushes against yours, sending heat to your core, his presence is friendly.

“I want to know what you’re thinking,” he says.

“You’ve known,” you finally get out. “You’ve known this whole time--you’ve known since before I started working at the Daily Planet. Everything I told you tonight… you knew this whole time! And you lied about it!”

You rise to your feet and move to the corner of the room, suddenly needing to put as much distance between you as possible. You’re mad at him--no, you’re livid. He’s been lying to you since the day you met him. You try to push back angry, hot tears from rising to the surface but they come anyways.

“Y/N…” Clark says, his voice breaking in a heartbreaking sound. He moves towards you.

You back up until your back hits the wall. “You’re a liar!”

“I never denied finding you that night,” he says, still continuing to move towards you. He moves slow, though, treating you like a scared animal. “I didn’t lie about it.”

“You deceived me!” you argue through your tears.

Pain flashes through his eyes as you yell at him, and though your instinct is to hug him and tell him whatever he needs to hear to feel better, you ignore it. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t have you knowing--”

“I was pissed at you!” You’re unable to stop your voice from rising with every word, growing desperately louder. “I was mad at you for saving me for so long! I hated you! Don’t you get that?” You move towards him and shove his shoulders. He stumbles back, surprised that your anger has turned violent. “How could you do this to me?!” You shove him again but this time he expects it. His feet are planted firmly on the ground and you don’t even make him move an inch. When you go to hit him for the third time, he grabs your wrists and holds them against his chest. You can feel the warmth radiating through his shirt, feel the solidness of his chest.

“Do you hate me?” he asks, looking deeply in your eyes.

“Y-yes,” you sob out.

But he knows that you’re lying. “Do you hate me, Y/N?” He enunciates each word slowly this time.

You step towards him again, but instead of hitting him you just rest your head on his chest. The only person you want to talk to when you feel this upset is Clark; he’s always the one to talk you off the ledge, to get you thinking logically instead of emotionally. So you don’t know what to do when he’s the one making you feel like this.

He brings one hand to the back of your head, cradling you against his chest, while his other begins to rub your back. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I never wanted to hurt you. But no one can know who I am.”

“Then why me?” you sob into his chest.

“Because…” he begins, then pauses.

You lift your head up just enough to meet his gaze. Only then do you become aware that there’s no distance between you. Your bodies are pressed tight against each other, your mouths inches apart. His breath tickles your face, sending shivers down your spine.

“Because what?” you force yourself to ask, struggling to find your voice.

He answers by kissing you. You freeze. Never in a million years would you have seen this coming. There’s no way Clark is as attracted to you as you are him. And yet here you stand, being kissed like you’re oxygen and he’s craving a fresh breath of air. As soon as the shock fades, you kiss him back. Your hands tug on his flannel, pulling him even tighter against him. When he pulls away from you, you’re both breathless.

“Because I love you,” he admits.

Love. That’s what he feels for you. It’s not just lust, not just a crush. Your heart races when he says those words. You must be dreaming. There’s no way this is happening.

“I’m sorry if that ruins things between us,” he says, “but I needed you to know. I’m good at keeping secrets, but I didn’t want to keep that one.”

You kiss him again. His hands tug at your hips, pressing your body tight against his. You gasp when you feel his erection press into you. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you bring a hand to his growing erection and palm him over his jeans. He groans into your mouth and the sound registers deep inside of you, making you drip with arousal.

You pull away from him and fall to your knees. His lustful gaze is locked on yours as you undo his jeans and pull them down enough to reveal his aching member. You practically gasp at his girth and length. There’s no way you can fit all of him in your mouth. But you try anyways, first with teasing licks up the length of his shaft and a few sucks on his balls. He groans as you open your mouth and take him deep inside of you. His cock brushes against the back of your throat and you gag but resist the urge to pull away from him. With the way he’s looking at you right now and the sounds he’s making, you’d happily gag on his cock. You place your hands on his thighs to steady yourself as he places a hand on the back of your head and begins to fuck your mouth.

Clark has never been anything but sweet and gentle. But right now, with how he’s fisting your hair and shoving his cock deeper inside of you, you feel like his own personal whore. And you love every second of it.

“Fuck,” he groans out. The sounds he makes has your toes curling and your heart racing when you remember that you’re the one making him fall apart. You feel powerful, beautiful, even as he uses you like this. “I’m gonna come soon… you gotta stop or I’m… gonna come down your throat.”

You moan at the thought. The vibrations of your voice register deep within him and two thrusts later he releases his seed down your throat. You swallow all of it, loving the salty, bitter taste.

“I think that’s the best blowjob I’ve ever had,” he admits, his cheeks a light pink from his orgasm.

You smirk up at him and get off the floor.

Clark nods to the bed. “Mind if I return the favor?”

***

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