#i should make a masterlist too but eventually
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staybabblingbaby · 3 days ago
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Best Friend Protocol #14 (Team Meeting part)
[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]
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Concept: You're Felix's childhood friend, and you and he have been planning a visit to see him for his birthday for what feels like years now. Unfortunately, SKZ is a very busy group, and the week-long vacation you'd planned for doesn't seem possible.Until Felix decides to ask his bandmates a favor...
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Word Count: 2672
Notes: IT'S FINALLY HERE! ALL HAIL THE LEGENDARY FIRST WRITTEN PART OF BFP! I meant to have this out over a week ago, but it's here now! I will be attempting to get a regular chapter out here shortly to fulfil my promised 4 november chapters. Wish me luck! Huge shout out to one of my beautiful beloved betas, @brbwritingfanfic for taking the time to make sense of this damn thing lmao. I appreciate you spotting all my errors, you a real one <3 For those familiar with my archive style and curious, this is A3D2 for this chapter. It was kicking my ASS. If enough folks are interested I don't mind releasing the other attempts, but BFP is a bit divorced from the usual archive proceedings, so I'll leave that up to y'all. I actually really loved how Felix's character came through here, and i'm pretty pleased with how the dialogue turned out. My poor fiance had to sit through like 5 separate rants about how i could not roll back the details enough and kept having to scrap dialogue so it sounded less like AI attempting classical literature.
Warnings: She/Her Reader. Sort of? Polyamory negotiations. More like, the possibility is tossed out there.
Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks
Additional Note: I'm always taking interaction requests. Just fyi
Masterlist | Prev Part | Next Part (coming soon!)
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The meeting goes something like this;
They pile into the living room of his and Seungmin’s shiny new dorm without discussion. It makes Felix both nervous and grateful. They’ve always had these meetings wherever Chris happened to be, before. It feels like an unspoken declaration of allegiance. Like they’re letting Felix take the lead, here.
The pressure is kind of getting to him already, as they all settle in. He doesn’t even know how he feels about it all himself, making a decision doesn’t seem like something he should be in charge of right now.
Still, he’s grateful. They’re being so mindful of him in this, and he kind of wants to cry about it. He feels seen, and loved. A bit too seen, maybe, but as embarrassing as it is he’s still a bit gooey inside about it.
Felix drags a beanbag over to where Hyunjin has settled on the couch, plopping down to lean against the other man’s legs. A hand automatically goes to bury itself in his hair, like an anchor against Felix’s stormy thoughts.
The grounding warmth of one of his best friends soothes Felix as Chris calls the meeting to order.  
“So!” Their leader casts an inquiring gaze around the room, “Who wants to start? Where are we at right now?”
A few glances are cast Felix’s way, but he tips his head back against Hyunjin’s knees to avoid their eyes. Everyone must get the message, because no one prompts him.
Jisung is the one who eventually bites the bullet, and Felix sends a silent ‘thank you’ to his birthday buddy.
“Well, I’d like to clarify everyone’s, like, goal in this?” Jisung puts forward tentatively, “Because I’m at the point where it’s more of a ‘I’d like to get to know her’ thing than a ‘I want to date her’ thing.” he shrugs to himself, “I haven’t talked to her much yet, I just think she’s cool.”
“I’m a little bit smitten,” Changbin admits from across the room. He gives Felix an apologetic grimace, but all Felix can do is wave him off with a worried smile. 
“We talked for quite a while the other day and, I dunno... We clicked? I guess? I feel like we did, anyway. I kind of want to see where that could go if we let it.” 
Changbin sends an almost appealing look to Felix as he speaks, and honestly? Super awkward for Felix right now.
Because, see, Felix’s first instinct is to get super defensive and shut everything down. He doesn’t really want to be talking about this, and it scratches at something delicate and boyish in him that they’re having this discussion at all.
It’s embarrassing to know that the feelings he’s kept so close to his chest for so many years are out in the open. It feels a bit like a betrayal that this meeting is about the fact that most of his friends have feelings for the girl he’s had a crush on basically his whole life, instead of planning how to get him to stop being stupid about said crush.
It’s just... Uncomfortable. On so many levels. An ugly monster wants to tear out of Felix’s throat as he locks eyes with Changbin, but a light scratch at his scalp from Hyunjin stalls the beast.
Right. Felix reminds himself that these aren’t any old friends. These aren’t just some acquaintances he could burn bridges with, or strange men he had to protect his angel from.
No, these were his brothers, the people he’d shed blood, sweat, and tears with. The men he’d lived with, grown with, the guys who’d seen more of him than any other person in the world.
Felix finds it in himself to spare Changbin a strained smile. He means it to be reassuring, but he’s so tangled up in his thoughts right now that it’s the best he can offer. The older man seems grateful for it anyway.
He turns his gaze up to Hyunjin, the catalyst of all this, and Felix’s current rock in the storm. He tries to keep in mind how much he loves these people as he moves the conversation forward.
He has to hear them out, at least.
“Thoughts, Hyun?” Felix gently inquires. 
Hyunjin briefly presses his lips together, gathering his thoughts into words. 
“I’ve been pretty open in my flirtation from the start, I think.” he finally says, “So I guess I’m more surprised that anyone else is? Surprised, I mean.”
Felix has to hand him that one. For all that his ‘no flirting’ rule had been mostly a joke, it did mean that he’d expected them to flirt with her. 
He wonders what makes things different now? He’d been okay with the flirting when he’d thought everyone was just joking around, has anything really changed now that he knows it’s real?
Felix sits with that thought while Minho throws his two cents in.
“I don’t think surprised is the right word,” their second eldest ponders aloud, “I’m personally more... worried about how this might work out.” He draws the words out slowly, like he’s tasting the flavor of them before he speaks.
It’s off-putting to hear Minho speak so cautiously- he’s usually so blunt with his words. 
“I’m more worried about how this will affect us as a group,” Minho admits, “I mean, I like her, she’s fun, but I don’t want her if it’s going to cause issues among us.”
And the older man has a point. Anything that causes discord in a group like theirs is a disaster waiting to happen. Especially something like this, where a misstep could lead to long-term resentments and jealousies.
Felix feels pressured by the group’s regard for him all over again. One word from him, and he knows it all ends. The moment he says he can’t handle this is the moment that the rest back off. The emotions won’t fade, Felix knows, but they’d do it anyways.
Because they love him.
He loves them right back.
“I really like her,” Seungmin pipes in, face blank. His eyes cast toward the floor for a moment, before rising again to meet Felix’s. “I really like her,” He repeats, “I don’t know that I would be okay with letting go without trying.”
Felix pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and nods at the younger man. His head tips toward his lap while he thinks, brow furrowing as he loses himself to his tumultuous thoughts.
It helps to hear everyone’s feelings put so bluntly, Felix thinks. Having everyone’s stances laid out clearly like a map in his mind’s eye. 
Han, who’s not invested but interested anyways.
Changbin, who’s probably in deeper than he’d really like to be.
Hyunjin, who’d been open about his intentions from the start.
Minho, who the fact that he’s even considering her means more than Felix thinks the man realizes. And yet, he’d give her up at the first seed of discord among the group.
It’s kind of heartwarming, when Felix thinks about how much love their second eldest had shown them with those words. 
Finally, there’s Seungmin. A man whose compliments are hard earned, and whose feelings are closely guarded. A man who’d just handed Felix his heart on a silver platter, trust and love etched in every word, spoken and not.
Felix’s first instinct is still to shut them down. His clouded heart tells him to scoop up his angel and hide her away like a dragon with its hoard. To claim her as his and his alone, and feel slighted if anyone tried to contest that.
But that’s not fair. Not to his members and not to her. Not even to himself.
They’d shown him respect and care every step of the way, the least he could do is give them more than a knee-jerk reaction.
“Is it really all that complicated?” Jeongin ponders aloud.
Their maknae looks almost bored from his armchair, staring at them all. His furrowed brow gives away his worry, as does the way he allows Chris to pull him into the elder’s side with an arm around his shoulders.
“I mean, it’s up to her in the end, isn’t it?” their youngest continues, “she’s the only one that can really make a final call.”
“Could we handle that?” Felix finally speaks up. It’s a little scary having everyone’s attention snap to him like that, but this is the crux of the matter, he thinks.
“If she chooses one of us, could we handle that?” he elaborates.
A contemplative silence descends over the room. Felix kind of wishes he could peek into the member’s brains at this moment. He wants to know if they’re as worried as he is, if they’re worried about the same things he is. 
Because, quite honestly, the more he thinks about it the less he really minds if they flirt with his angel.
It’s taken him this long to untangle the ugly knot of emotions in his chest, and he still can’t see all of it for what it is, but the core of it all, he thinks, is fear.
He’s afraid that, at the end of it all, he’ll be left behind. That he’ll lose two of his very best friends, his favorite people in the world, to each other.
He doesn’t think he could handle that.
It’s an unjustified fear, Felix knows. His bonds with all of these people, the seven present in the room with him and one halfway across the world, are stronger than anything. Forged in fire and elastic with time, he’s sure there’s nothing that could ever truly break them.
That doesn’t stop anxiety from creeping up his spine.
Felix lets his eyes wander around the room, landing on each of his members in turn. It’s like something in him believes that they could guide him in this, just by looking at them, the way his gaze lands heavily on each of their forms.
Hyunjin’s hand drops from his head to knead at the base of his neck, and Felix feels himself soften. A little bit of the anxiety drains from him at the comforting touch, and with it gone he can see something new under the miasma of fear and uncertainty.
It’s bright, like hope, and a bit more exciting. A giddy little thought bubbles up with it-
“What if she chose more than one of us?” Han beats him to the punch. His eyes flick between them all anxiously, looking very much like the rodent he’s nicknamed for, and when he’s met with six confused stares and Felix’s suppressed grin, he starts to babble.
“I- I mean, we’ve all shared partners before. Like, sexually, at least. I just- I mean- We’re not strangers to sharing, is all I’m tryna say!” Han explains himself.
His shoulders rise up to cherry-red ears under the weight of their stares. Minho places a calming hand on his thigh, even as he pokes holes in the other man’s claim.
“We’ve never shared romantic partners though,” He points out, annoyingly reasonable, “That’s a completely different thing.” 
“I’d be willing to give it a shot,” Hyunjin shrugs when all eyes turn to him.
He was, admittedly, the last of them Felix had expected to back the idea. Hyunjin was the most romantic of them all, and the least likely to indulge one of them in sharing a partner or two.
“I love you guys, and I really like her,” Hyunjin states plainly, “I don’t see an issue with it.”
“So.. what? We try for, like, a.. polycule kinda thing if she wants?” Changbin questions. He scrunches up his face in concern at the concept, pointing out, “That feels a little unbalanced, doesn't it? Is it fair to hinge the whole thing on her?”
“It's going to hinge on her whether it's fair or not,” Jeongin interjects, “You all have crushes on her, not on eachother.”
“I just don’t know how comfortable I can be with that,” Changbin explains, “There’s one of her, and currently six of us. I don’t think it’s humanly possible for her to split her time enough for all of us, and it’s really unfair of us to expect it of her.”
“It could be a good thing, though,” Han argues, “None of us have the time to dedicate to a relationship how we should. Having more than one of us to turn to could be a good thing.”
“Okay, but you’re all forgetting something very important in this hypothetical,” Jeongin stresses the word, making pointed eye contact with his hyungs, “situation. She has to agree to it too. We can’t make a decision without her.”
Felix can't help but be proud of their youngest for reminding them of y/n’s place in all this. It’s not like they’d forgotten, but it was a good reminder anyway. It did feel a bit icky to be talking about their relationship with her like it was a foregone conclusion.
“I’m just saying!” Han proclaims, throwing his hands in the air, “It’s a possibility that we should be open to if it happens!”
Finally, Chris loudly claps to get everyone's attention and forestall any oncoming argument.
“Oh-kay!” he enthuses, “Let’s refocus. Show of hands, are we okay with everyone flirting with her if they want to?”
All hands go up, none of them opposed to anyone else shooting their shot. Felix pretends like all eyes aren’t on him as he easily raises his arm.
“Alright, next” Chris pushes on, “Do we think we can handle it if she chooses one of us?”
Hesitant murmurs sound around the room at this, but Felix has come to an understanding with himself during this meeting, so he speaks confidently when he says, “I think we’ll be okay.”
His words seem to reassure the others, and a ripple of agreement and gentle ribbing starts circling the room.
“Alright,” Chris nods to himself, interrupting the wave before they could get started with any mischief. He really does know them too well.
“And finally,” he starts, an indecipherable expression crossing his face, “show of hands, who’s alright with the poly thing if it comes to it?”
This subject is more divisive, Han, Hyujin, and Felix’s hands going up, but Minho and Changbin stay quiet with worried faces. Seungmin holds his arm out in front of him with his thumb held out sideways. When questioned, he just says he’s not sure how he feels about it yet.
“We’ll circle back on that later, then.” Chris decides, “I think that’s one of those things we need to be unanimous on.”
Agreements sound out, and the atmosphere relaxes. The evening quickly devolves into an impromptu game night, the group quickly descending upon Felix’s console games like a pack of hyenas.
Felix gets up to switch the TV over to his switch, intentions of strong-arming everyone into playing Mario Party in mind. Chris grabs him by the elbow as he walks by, nodding over to the kitchen. Felix follows him over, already unbearably fond. 
“You sure you're good?” Chris asks lowly, “You've been her friend the longest, and we quite literally thought you were dating her already for a while there. They'll back off if you ask, you know.” 
Felix nods, smiling softly at their leader’s care. “I'm good I promise.” he swears, “I meant it when I said I liked it when my favorite people get along.”
He turns to look through the doorway back at the living room. Despite the strange and personal nature of their conversation, jokes and laughter flow easily now. As if there was never any tension at all. 
Felix can feel himself practically melt as he looks at them, a sentiment he knows their leader shares.
“It would hurt,” Felix admits, “If she chose someone else. But there’s no one I’d trust to hurt me more, y’know?”
Chris doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t really need to. He squeezes Felix’s elbow gently as the younger dives back into the chaos, and Felix knows he’s been understood.
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eggtargaryenii · 18 hours ago
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EAST OF THE SUN | PART V
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Aemond leaned down then, looking at the man as if he were a pest—a stain beneath his boot. “My justice is not a lenient one, ser,” he murmured. A red glow pulsed on his left periphery, in the spot where he was blind: a phantom vision from his missing eye, the absence of which he felt everyday. “The next time you lay your hand on my lady, I shall cut it off myself.”
6k words, aemond x fem!reader x jacaerys. childhood friends to lovers (except it's cousins), political drama. chapter warnings for sexual harassment/misogyny. dividers from @/cafekitsune.
SERIES SUMMARY & MASTERLIST.
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X. JUSTICE
Aemond had never liked the way men looked at you.
He noticed this from a young age, watching as his brother’s eyes roved over your body. Aegon looked at you as a man would view a decadent feast or wine rather than a human being. Something to be owned. Something to be devoured. Aemond did not know entirely what it meant until after that day in the tourney stands, listening to his brother explain what a whore was, and what his brother wished to do with you—to debase you as he would a woman on the Street of Silk.
As soon as he understood this about Aegon, he understood it about other men as well. You were aware of it too, had likely been aware of it your entire childhood. You never did explain to Aemond, growing up, why you were so often upset, but he pieced it together eventually. You always ran to the dragonpit after some lord eyed you too hungrily, after some squire or guard or knight tried to put his hands on you, after Aegon did put his hands on you to squeeze at whatever part of your body he could. And of course no one helped you. His mother could not stop Aegon’s impulses to dishonour you, his father was too neglectful to care, and Aemond—
Aemond had been too weak.
It incensed him beyond thinking. He had been a powerless child, unable to defend himself, so of course he could not defend you either. He would be patronised by the grown men he ordered to stop, who always smiled politely at him and claimed that they were only being friendly. Aegon was worse—Aegon did not feel the least bit ashamed of his desires and repeatedly told Aemond that he would do the same to you if he were a real man. (Never, Aemond always thought viciously, never would he touch you like that, never would he make you cry like that.) He felt a vicious anger in those moments that he could barely contain. It was nearly as terrible as it was after he lost his eye and he realised that he could not defend his mother from either Rhaenyra’s manipulations or his father’s wroth.
While Aemond was weak though, you eventually began to retaliate. First by kicking his brother in the shin, then by throwing things at him. It already shamed Aemond that you had to do this for yourself, but what made it worse was that his mother punished you for defending yourself, lecturing that your family should always show unity before others. It was not so different from how she advised Aemond to tolerate his brother’s mistreatment of him in both public and private.
Aemond was never upset with Alicent over his own misgivings, but your hardship was something else altogether. It was easy to for Aemond to swallow public humiliation for himself, for he loved his queen mother and considered himself a loyal son—but for you?
He could not swallow it for you. He could not bear to let you suffer the indignity of being treated like an expensive cut of meat by the entirety of the court.
Aemond resolved to put an end to it when he was older—just as he resolved to put an end to his own torment, and just as he resolved to put an end to his mother’s worry. She had a precarious position with a King who did not love her or her sons, and you had a precarious position with the men at court who felt entitled to touch and insult you as they pleased. It was natural that he wanted to protect you both, and he could only do so if he gained power.
So power he did obtain. Aemond honed himself into a weapon, and he did not hesitate from using his blade’s edge. His presence around you became constant, imposing. Whenever men demanded your presence, he made sure to smile sharply and make it known that you were under his protection: “Return her to me once you are done,” he always commanded. Return her to me whole and unharmed, or else face my wrath if she is hurt, he always left unsaid.
When he was only newly a man, having seen ten-and-six name days, there were occasionally those who chose to defy him anyway. The most egregious was a visiting lord of the Stormlands who made it known that he found you quite comely. “No wonder kings and lords often go to Lys to find their concubines,” the lord had said, his eyes greedy upon you. “The women of their pillowhouses appear to be quite beautiful.”
You could not afford to offend him, for you could not afford to offend Otto Hightower. You only smiled stiffly, taking the hand he'd offered you. “Thank you, my lord,” you replied. “You flatter me too much. I was born in the Red Keep, and I was raised among the noble houses of Westeros. I am, in truth, as Westerosi as you.”
It did not matter to the Stormlands lord, just as it never seemed to matter to any other man. He took you to dance, and Aemond saw what he did to you, what you could not defend yourself from in the middle of a banquet hall filled with oppressive, heavy gazes. Stinking of Arbor gold and perfume, the older man openly grabbed you, pressed his body against yours, manhandled you like the Great Hall was a pleasure house and you were his preferred whore.
You were going to strike him, Aemond saw. Your brow twitched and your arm wound with tension, the way that it always did before you slapped Aegon. You were going to hit this lord and the consequences would be dire, for it would be a disgrace to House Targaryen for one of its ladies to conduct herself with such violence and inhospitality.
But Aemond was a man—and men are not so easily punished for violence.
He moved quickly, serpentlike. Not even Ser Criston, who had begun to cut a path toward you, could match Aemond’s pace. He placed a hand on the offending lord's shoulders, and suddenly the oaf was thrown like a ragdoll, body sliding across the marble floor as the crowd parted around him. Aemond’s boot crushed the chest of the drunken fool, pinning him down. Screams teared from several throats; an angry yell from the lord.
“How dare you,” he snapped. “Is this how House Targaryen comports itself to other nobles?”
Aemond only smiled. Steel flashed like lightning under the chandelier, and the edge of his blade pressed neatly against the wrist of the lord, drawing a thin, red line across his skin.
“House Targaryen,” Aemond declared loudly, “does not tolerate dishonourable behaviour toward any of its princesses or ladies. I imagine that your liege lord would not either, nor any of the other nobles in the Stormlands.”
He leaned down then, looking at the man as if he were a pest—a stain beneath his boot. “My justice is not a lenient one, ser,” Aemond murmured. A red glow pulsed on his left periphery, in the spot where he was blind: a phantom vision from his missing eye, the absence of which he felt everyday. “The next time you lay your hand on my lady, I shall cut it off myself.”
Ser Criston escorted the man out, and the lord departed from court the next day. Suddenly every lecher who had ever pestered you kept a wide berth from you, and every man you encountered was nothing but polite. You moved with so much more ease after that: less tense, less small, less sombre. You were no longer afraid of existing in the presence of others, Aemond observed. You even seemed to laugh and smile more openly, the sight of which he would never tire.
“I am grateful for what you did,” you said after the fact, “but I still think it was very extreme. Your mother was quite unhappy with you, you know, and your grandsire was displeased as well.”
“Alicent was indeed startled,” he admitted, “and the Hand prefers to keep his relationships cordial for the sake of his own plans, but this was the only way to ensure your safety. If men do not fear, then they do not obey. Sometimes it is necessary to demonstrate one’s might for the sake of order.”
You gave him a long look. “Such is the way that our ancient house thinks, but I am unsure that it is always true. Sometimes it helps to exercise self-restraint.”
Aemond’s mouth curled. He wondered if you knew how gentle your disposition could be, how naive you could be.
“My lady,” he replied, “I was exercising self-restraint. I was even being merciful. He kept his hands when he should have lost both, did he not?”
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XI. THE STAR, REVERSED
Alicent seemed apprehensive on the night before the tournament, just as Aemond thought she would be.
He sought her out in Maegor’s Holdfast: one of the few places in the castle free from eavesdroppers by way of servants and listeners within its walls. If any whispers came from the tower, it was due to the folly of the people residing there, and Alicent would not err in this matter. She would stay tight-lipped to everyone but him—for he was his mother’ son, and he knew how to appeal to her weaknesses.
“You intend to wed my cousin to Ser Arthur Tyrell,” he said. His voice was soft, a statement rather than an accusation.
She swallowed. “Yes. The Tyrells are a great house—a match nearly unimaginable. And you met Ser Arthur: the man is dignified, handsome, and cares not for the girl’s origins. She will be treated well.”
“It may seem that way outwardly,” Aemond said, “but I must inform you of some devastating news I heard from Ser Criston.”
“News?”
“Yes. It seems that Ser Arthur is a raper—Ser Criston saw it for himself during his time in the Dornish Marches. Acts that were an affront to the Seven. Crimes to the Mother, Maiden, and Crone alike.”
Alicent was almost certainly aware that he had deduced she'd already known this. The flicker of doubt in her eyes and tension in her body gave it away. Still, she quickly donned a mask of surprise and revulsion. “A raper?”
“Yes.” The corner of his mouth turned down. “You must know, Mother—I worry for my cousin. You know how dear she is to me.” Everyone in the Red Keep seemed to know it except for you, Aemond thought dryly. “I would not be able to live with myself if I did not plead for you to stop this match.”
She breathed in deeply, tried her best to look reluctant and fretful. “I know how much this must worry you, but the matter has already been settled, Aemond. We cannot offend the Tyrells by dissolving this betrothal. But your cousin is quite resourceful—I am sure she will find a way to stay safe. Doubly so, since the Tyrells will not want to offend us.”
“But my grandsire has a greater wish not to offend them,” he said softly. “He needs their support when we claim the throne, and he intends to trade her body to secure it. It leaves her without any leverage.”
It was difficult to keep his voice gentle when the thought drove him mad. Always, always—people wished to buy and sell you, to treat you like a bed slave to be used. He would cut off the hands of every man in the Red Keep if it meant that no one would ever try that with you again. Sometimes, he even believed that he would cut off even those hands belonging to his own brother.
Alicent would never consent to such violence just to protect you, but she sounded earnest when she replied, “It is not easy for me to do this to your cousin.”
“I know it is not.” Aemond kept his face solemn. “It is already difficult for you to turn a blind eye to all those maids that fall victim to my brother’s impulses”—except it was not difficult for her at all, he thought, for Alicent staunchly needed her family to maintain the appearance of unity—“but I imagine it is unbearable to watch it happen to a girl you raised and cared for as your own. You were practically a mother to her.”
A subtle frown. “I am hardly anything like her mother.”
Are you so blind as to think you are not? he thought. For Alicent tried to teach you the values that she taught to her children, and she struck you for your disgraces as hard as she struck Aegon, and she told you to swallow your humiliations as often as she did Aemond. And she resented you as much as she resented all of them—for giving birth to them when she was still yet a child, for being saddled with the responsibility of raising them, for doing it all alone because his father did not love her nor any of them.
Aemond considered himself a loyal son, but he had no delusions about any of this. It was so obvious that not even Aegon was fool enough to miss this fact: his mother did not love either of the sons she had raised.
And just as equally, she did not love you.
“But even if I am not a mother to her,” Alicent mused, “you are right in thinking I mislike this. I find it unbearable… but sometimes we must do unbearable things to protect the people important to us.”
“Yes—truer words than any. Sometimes we must do the worst to protect the ones we love.”
His mother knew him well. He watched as Alicent’s eyes flickered with understanding. She took a deep breath and regarded him as if he was something to fear: a threat or a monster, rather than her own son. The moment was brief, but Aemond noticed it just as he had noticed it all the times before. He could not help the sharp knife of disappointment in his heart.
“What are you planning, Aemond?” she asked.
His mouth curled, and he did not answer her question. She likely already knew.
“Do not resent me for this, Mother. You have said it yourself: this marriage isn't something you want, either. Allow me to do what you cannot.” And let me free you from the guilt that will burden you should you condemn your daughter to this match that Grandsire has orchestrated.
Alicent gave him a long look. “You ask for me to allow it, but I cannot stop you.”
He hummed, still smiling—guiltless. For Aemond considered himself a loyal son, and that meant that he must do all the things that his mother was too gentle to know she should do. It meant that he must make men fear their family when she was not capable of it. It meant that he must show might when she was weak.
It meant that he must maintain order when no one else would.
“No,” he agreed. “You cannot.”
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XII. KNIGHT OF CUPS
You were not fond of tourneys when you were younger.
Social pariahs do not do well at social events. While tournaments and feasts were a source of joy for everyone else, they—like every other celebration—only served to highlight how friendless you were. At first you tried to enjoy them with Helaena, but her mother eventually forbade it, so worried she was about your influence on her daughter. It was disappointing, but not unexpected. You then tried spending the time with Aemond, but Aegon was always made to sit near him, meaning that he also sat near you. It quickly became intolerable: Aegon’s hands would always curiously end up on your body—your lower back, your thighs, your bottom, and so on.
Aegon’s behaviour used to make you cry from the discomfort (privately, for you would have rather died than showed weakness before him), but after a time you grew tired of the crying and you started to kick him in retaliation. While this effectively kept his hands off you, it also meant that Alicent eventually also forbade her two sons from sitting near you. She could not have Aegon making a fool of himself during every tourney, yelping as you defended yourself.
In the end, you were left to sit alone in every tourney, which was simply uncomfortable. You loved a good joust as much as anyone else, but it was not nearly so fun when you had no one to spectate with or speak with between rounds. You would only sit there alone, with a favour that the septa had forced you to make, for which no one would ask, acutely aware of the gazes of other people. You always squirmed in your seat, trying not to think of the judgements being passed upon you: how lonely you were, how pathetic you were, how few people of noble standing would ever want your company except to touch you as if you were a bed slave like your mother.
All of this changed when Aemond grew up.
As soon as he was old enough to have the freedom, he began to accompany you during any festivities, sitting next to you in the stands. And when he began to join the listings, you always looked forward to seeing him cut down his opponents, knocking them brutally off their horses or making them yield to his sword. Even though you sat alone, you were never lonely, for Aemond spent the idle time between rounds with you, smiling in genuine amusement as you leaned over the barrier to jest and speak with him, once so deeply that you nearly fell over.
Eventually, you got into the habit of sitting in the front row, not hoping to bless anyone with a favour, but simply so you could speak more easily with him. You sat now in the same spot as always—but for once, you were not alone. Jacaerys was next to you, and Lucerys next to him. It was their first tournament in King’s Landing, and their excitement for it was evident.
You could not have asked for a better day for a tourney: the sky was a rich blue and the wind tempered the heat of the sun. The banners and shields all seemed so vivid in the bright daylight, stags and bears and towers and wolves emblazoned across them all. Jace and Luke recognized every house sigil, of course, but it did not stop you from pointing out every knight in the tiltyard. You gave a particular pause to the knight that carried a green shield blooming with a golden flower. “My betrothed,” you said. “Ser Arthur is apparently quite the splendid knight.”
“Ah.” Jacaerys’ expression was unreadable, his tone neutral. “I'll need to keep an eye on him.” He glanced down at the favour on your lap: a ring of golden blossoms with a green silk ribbon woven through it, obviously inspired by the Tyrell coat-of-arms. “Did you prepare that for him?”
You nodded. “No one ever asks me for my favour, so I stopped making them long ago, but I made one this time in case he thinks to request it in courtship. It was the Queen’s recommendation.”
“A good one,” Jace admitted, though he looked neither happy nor approving. “What do you think are the chances that he’ll win the crown of love and beauty for you?”
“None at all, I hope. I’ve bet quite a bit of coin on Aemond,” you said neatly. “Tyland Lannister will lose a great deal of money today.”
Jace’s mouth was slanted with something that might have been amusement. “Are you always so confident in my uncle’s victories?”
“Well, he does always win,” you replied, grinning.
“So I've heard,” he said, sounding exasperated, and you had to stop yourself from feeling embarrassed. Over the years, you had mentioned occasionally in your letters about how much time Aemond put into training, and which tourneys he had won, and all the things you were learning about warfare from him. You did not think that Jacaerys would have minded it, but he currently looked distinctly sour.
“Sorry.”
“No, it's all right.” He studied the yard carefully. “I look forward to seeing what sort of fighter my uncle has become.”
His dark gaze landed upon Aemond then, a silhouette of night-black armour chased with gold. His helm was off, revealing his silver hair and sharply carved features. You did not often think about how handsome your cousin was, and typically you thought of him too frightening to be gallant, but you could not ignore it today: Aemond Targaryen was a very beautiful man. You had to remind yourself that he was Alicent Hightower’s son, which was a fact that never failed to stop you from admiring him. If ever you should lose your wits and find yourself besotted with Aemond, the Queen would instantly banish you from the capital. Though Aemond, himself, was far too ambitious to enter a marriage as politically useless as yours would be.
Rather than lingering on your undesirability, you instead turned your focus to the two knights about to joust, a Tarth and a Dondarrion. You'd seen both the year before, and you were unsurprised when the Dondarrion brutally unseated the former. Every house of the Dornish Marches had fierce warriors forged by true battle, and Dondarrion was no exception. The nobles around you clapped politely; the smallfolk in the commons cheered.
More rounds. Caron against Frey, then Tully against Stokeworth, then Dayne against Lannister. Then, finally—Aemond Targaryen.
As a prince, Aemond was allowed to choose his opponents. Never one to be craven, he stopped and pointed his lance at the knight carrying a brown shield with three stalks of wheat: the emblem of House Selmy of the Dornish Marches. Their knights were on par with the Daynes, and just as battle-hardened.
Though Aemond was skilled, he had never seen war unlike his opponent, and you could not help but feel anxious as you watched him guide his courser into the lane. He was starting out with Ser Selmy on his left. No matter how many times you watched Aemond joust, you always felt a sense of apprehension about his blind side. You did not know how he saw without his missing eye; you only knew how much he struggled after losing it, training with Ser Criston day and night, determined to regain his balance and aim, determined to take back what he'd lost…
Both warriors readied themselves. Selmy did not hold his reins, but Aemond did, so certain of his victory. Their lances were in hand, the ends rounded but no less dangerous.
The horses cried as they began.
Your heart pounded nearly as loud as the hooves beating against the ground. They race past one another and their weapons glanced against steel: Aemond’s lance on Selmy’s shield, splintering and bursting on contact; Selmy’s on Aemond’s arm. Neither faltered. As soon as your cousin was given a new lance, they resumed, with Selmy now charging on Aemond's right.
This time, Aemond’s lance crashed right into Selmy’s neck, just beneath his chin. The knight’s destrier screamed, nearly toppling over as Selmy was thrown off. The commons roared with delight, while all the nobles clapped politely—except for you. You could not help but stand on your feet and cheer in a distinctly undignified manner. When you looked down, Jace was studying you with amusement, and you could only grin.
Aemond, as always, rode over to where you sat. He looked up at you, mouth curled into a satisfied smile. You waved at him, practically hanging over the edge of the balcony.
“Well done, my Prince!” you exclaimed. “A splendid show as always! And against such a fearsome opponent, too!”
“Thank you, my lady, but you need not congratulate me yet. Other opponents equally fierce await me.”
“And you will best them as well,” you shouted, “for I have a great number of gold dragons staked on you! You are not allowed to lose!”
Aemond seemed amused. “If my lady wishes for my victory, then I would ask her for her help.”
You gave him a quizzical look. “My help?”
He held out a hand. “Your favour.”
You stared at him.
The nobles around you went quiet. You could feel the gazes of Queen Alicent and the Hand boring into you. Aemond One-Eye had never once asked a lady for her favour. To think that he was now asking for it—and asking it of you, a woman betrothed to another man—was pure scandal.
You glanced at Ser Arthur, whose gaze on Aemond was nearly piercing. This could only be part of Aemond’s play, you determined—an attempt at humiliation, and perhaps a feigned declaration of his intent to court you? The Tyrells could hardly ignore a Targaryen prince competing with their offer, even if he was doing it without the consent of his queen mother. If Aemond challenged Ser Arthur for your hand, it would complicate matters for them. You were unsure, though, if such a complication would deter them.
But Aemond told you to play along, so play along you did. You tossed at him your ring of blossoms and ribbon, and felt something in your chest twisting oddly as he caught them. No one had ever asked you for your favour before, and even though Aemond was doing it only as a ploy, it still made your heart pound to see someone wear your flowers.
“I don't imagine Ser Arthur will be happy about that,” Jace remarked after you sat down.
“Aemond is trying to slight the Tyrells.”
“I figured. Bold of him.”
“As is his disposition.” You settled back into your seat, trying to seem normal. “Well, now he has to win. I’ve bet a hundred gold dragons and my favour on him.”
“A hundred gold dragons?”
“I have inherited enough money to own half the city of Lys. A hundred gold dragons is nothing, especially when I will double it. A Lannister always pays his debts, you know.”
“You seem to have your father’s gift for making coin.”
“I only know when to hedge my bets.”
You both went quiet as several more rounds of jousting occurred. Ser Arthur was as fierce as the whispers told; he knocked a knight of Swann clean off his destrier, and even unhorsed the Dondarrion. Aemond eventually rode against Dayne and sent the great warrior crashing into the stands. They drew swords following the unhorsing, steel dancing and clashing violently. Aemond eventually forced the Marcher knight to yield.
The next time Aemond rode, he chose Ser Arthur for his opponent.
The commons cheered raucously, and every eye in the audience was heavy upon them. All throughout the stands, you heard people making their bets, and you sent Tyland Lannister a smile in reminder of your own. All the while, the two frontrunners for the tournament positioned themselves on opposite ends of the tiltyard. Ser Arthur was on Aemond’s left, you noticed, and your heart raced as the horses galloped.
Ser Arthur was formidable, and while Aemond was renowned for his skill, all the knights he'd chosen had still challenged him. He required two, three rounds to unseat most of them. Everyone expected a fight, an equal match of several rounds, perhaps even a swordfight—
But in a single, savage motion, Aemond’s lance speared right through Ser Arthur’s neck.
It took several moments for people to realise what had happened. Once they did, chaos gripped the crowd. Deaths happened occasionally during tourneys, but typically during melees, for the jousting lances were intentionally designed not to kill. And rarely was a death so stunning nor swift. Several women screamed at the sight of the bloodied lance, at the corpse that was falling from its horse; many of the men roared and cheered. Across the stands, you noticed Lady Tyrell sitting still and quiet.
You did not react yourself. You only sat there, numb with disbelief. You could think only of one thing:
“Did”—you swallowed thickly—“H-how did he do that? Was that on purpose?”
“I don't know,” Luke replied, voice trembling, but Jace sounded confident when he replied, “No. It was an accident.”
You turned to him. “How are you so certain?”
He seemed stoic when he replied—not cold or cruel, but solemn. Dignified in the face of death. “Aemond has a habit of aiming for the upper chest or neck when he jousts,” he explained. “You saw it for yourself, didn't you, with that knight of House Selmy? It is a brutal move, but not fatal. The gorget protects the opponent. But”—Jace frowned—“did you see the gorget on Ser Arthur? It wasn’t fastened correctly.”
You did not know what a gorget was or how one would see that it was loose, but you trusted Jace. “And Aemond would not have noticed?”
Jacaerys looked troubled. “I might have. But Ser Arthur was on his left…”
Aemond’s blind side, you realised.
“Then,” you asked, “who exactly is to blame?”
“I did not think the day would ever come that I would defend my uncle, but I don't believe that Aemond is at fault. It would be Ser Arthur’s squire, if anyone were to be held accountable—though such blunders are not unusual for an inexperienced squire. It was strange that Ser Arthur himself did not notice. He is—was—an experienced knight. He should know how his armour feels.”
“Aemond goaded Ser Arthur to anger,” you said, thinking not only of the favour, but their incensed conversation the night before, “so he was likely too distracted to notice. People are stupid when they're angered.”
The thought unsettled you, but Jace seemed unbothered. “You're speaking true. That is precisely why anyone would try to anger their foes before a battle—a stupid opponent is a weak one. It is not foul play that Aemond did so.” He gave you a pitying look. “Still, this is a tragedy. I am sorry for the loss of your betrothed.”
“You need not be,” you said, and you nearly added I had no desire to marry a raper anyway, until you remembered that you were in a crowd. “It is no one's fault, as you said,” you recovered. “I cannot blame anyone. I only mourn for Ser Arthur and his family.”
You tried not to wince as you remembered them. It was an accident, Jace had explained—but the death of a Tyrell son at the hands of a Targaryen prince would still be cause for strife and offence. You dreaded the consequences, and they loomed over you for the rest of the jousts.
The crowd, however, moved quickly past Ser Arthur’s tragedy. They cheered as the last several rounds finished, and by the time Aemond Targaryen unhorsed his final opponent, it was as if he had not just killed a knight. The commons cheered for him raucously, the nobles clapped and nodded in approval. It felt like you were alone in your discomfort—the only one suspicious of the incident.
You were so deep in your musings that you nearly did not realise it when Aemond was given his crown of winter roses to bequeath upon his chosen queen. The crowd murmured in curiosity as he drew toward them, though you watched almost with boredom. Aemond was utterly disinterested in the pageantry of tournaments, and nearly skipped the crowning the first time he won one. It was only at the urging of the crowd that he crowned his sister in his first year, then his mother in the next—with the least enthusiasm possible both times. Doubtlessly, he would crown one of them again.
You almost thought he made a mistake when he stopped in front of you.
“Who else should I crown as the queen of love and beauty,” he declared, a nearly roguish smile on his face, “other than my lady cousin?”
Although the crowd gasped in equal parts shock and delight, you only stared at him, aghast. “Me?”
He raised a brow. “Are you so surprised? You are the loveliest and most beautiful here to my eye, my lady. The title suits you well.”
You were stunned. Dumbstruck. You could not match this bold flattery to the Aemond you knew: a man who focused only on duty and politics, and who seemed utterly dispassionate about both marriage and women. Staring at the man before you, you wondered if he had been replaced by a changeling—or perhaps he had been possessed by some kind of demon?
But where you were confused, the younger girls around you seemed only excited. Cheers and giggles erupted around you. Ladies who had never in their life wanted to speak with you were now suddenly enamoured with you—or perhaps enamoured with Prince Aemond, who was known for his cold behaviour and complete disinterest in matters of courtly love. But right now Aemond was the very image of a gallant prince rather than a terrifying killer, and all the girls around you must have been excited by it.
Several of them urged you forward:
“Go on, my lady! Go on!”
“You can't turn down a prince!”
“Especially not Prince Aemond, of all people!”
“Who knew he was such a romantic!”
“Who knew! He must be serious in his intent to court you, my lady!”
“Yes, yes—he is always seen with you, is he not? Oh, I know the whispers were false, but he must truly wish to be your lover!”
“It is as they say, my lady. He wishes so badly to crown you, just see how he is looking at you! Do not keep him waiting!”
Never had you gotten so much approval from strangers. It was as foreign and unfamiliar as the experience of receiving attention from a man that was not absolutely repulsive and violating. You had never once imagined in your life that someone would ever want to crown you at a tournament or display such gallantry toward you, and it deeply affected you. Rather than feeling the butterflies of a newly discovered love, however, you were so overwhelmed that you only wanted to throw up.
Giving Jace a mildly terrified expression, you made your way down the stands. You tried not to look at Queen Alicent as you did, trying to avoid what you were sure was a gaze of complete wrath.
When you were finally on the tiltyard, facing Aemond, he dismounted from his courser. Even standing before him, you were convinced that he was confused, that this was some kind of error, that he was unwell or mad or had some other lady cousin you did not know of. Nevertheless, he laid the crown of roses upon your head, its blooms so blue and rare that the crowd exclaimed at their beauty.
Even though the masses were unrepentant in their delight, you could only give Aemond a blank look.
“What are you doing?” you asked in Valyrian, and he replied in kind.
“Courting you—was that not obvious?”
“Of course it is obvious. I am asking why.”
“It will be difficult for another house to request your hand if it means angering the Targaryen prince who rides the largest dragon in the world.” He looked self-satisfied. “Our family is known for madness, after all. People generally do not want to provoke it in us.”
You felt a headache coming on, disbelieving that this was his brilliant plan. And it still remained to be seen whether he had meant to kill Ser Arthur—for despite Jace’s staunch belief in his uncle’s innocence, the thorns upon your head led you to doubt him.
“You are mad for doing this, cousin,” you said.
“Perhaps. But have I not solved the problem of your betrothal?”
“For now. But we will be forced into this ruse of courtship, and once we stop, we will once again face the same problem.”
He smiled. He took your hand into his, and even though this was not his first time doing this, you were still startled when he pressed his lips to your knuckle. This time, your heart pounded in reaction and there was a mildly concerning flutter in your stomach.
Aemond replied only once he returned your hand to you, his expression as amused as it was cunning.
“Why need we ever stop?”
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END PART V
hiii thank you for reading <3 i hope everyone enjoyed aemond's freak behaviour in this!
now that this chapter is out of the way, I would like to discuss a major shortcoming of this story. I did not have the foresight to write the earlier chapters in a way that expanded on the psychic damage that years of gendered microaggressions and sexual harassment has had on the reader. it was something I didn't want to focus on because I just wanted to have fun writing about some court politics and romance lol, but I've realised that it's going to play a very big role in the future of this fic (rip).
I've tried to introduce some of it here through aemond's pov, but I do want to emphasize how much of an influence it has had on the reader's mentality. it actually has even passively influenced the narrative even though I was actively trying to avoid writing about it - for instance, it's partly why she has zero expectations for ever having a romance, why she has no romantic/sexual experiences even though she gets a lot of attention, why she is very pragmatic about marriage, why she has no plans to have sex beyond a purely political marriage, etc... the trauma response does run even deeper than all of that though!
anyhow - thanks again for reading! please let me know if you enjoyed this. reblogs are greatly appreciated too! ^^
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thehereticdiaries · 3 days ago
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Into the Wonderland: Chapter Four
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Chapter Summary: I'm building plot, it's cute and y/n actually gets a break for once. San's a menace and the alphas are horny bastards but nothing sexual happens YET
Warnings: not much, they talk briefly about kinks and bedroom dynamics but nothing explicit
Series Masterlist
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You woke up the next morning later than normal. Thankfully, it was Saturday, which meant no classes to worry about for the next two days. You blinked the remnants of sleep from your eyes, looking up to see Hongjoong awake and scrolling on his phone. You rested your chin on his chest to admire his bedhead while he was still distracted. You only got a moment, though, since he felt you move when you woke up.
“Morning, did you sleep any better last night?” His raspy morning voice sent a shiver down your spine.
“Mhm,” you hid your face in his neck. “No nightmares for the first time in weeks.” 
“Good.” He kissed the top of your head, patting your hip afterward so he could get out of bed. “We should get back to the dorms. The others are worried since I didn’t come back last night.”
“You didn’t tell them?” You sat up and watched him make his way to your bathroom.
“Nope!” You rolled your eyes, checking your notifications before getting up to get dressed. You finished changing just before Hongjoong exited the bathroom. “You ready to go?”
“Actually, I remembered a couple things I wanted to talk to you about. I kinda forgot after doing the pack bond.” He sat next to you on your bed with one hand on your knee. “Okay, my first idea has to do with my apartment. I’m not sure if Mingi told you, but my grandmother gifted it to me. I’m not willing to sell it.”
“I wasn’t expecting you to,” Hongjoong’s eyebrows creased, prompting you to continue.
“Well, I was thinking that since I’m eventually going to move into the dorms with you all,” you didn’t miss the way he sat up straighter at the idea. “We could use my apartment as, like, an extra space for our heats and ruts. Just in case any of us want more privacy.”
“We can talk about it with the rest of the pack when we get back, but I think that’s a great idea,” Hongjoong agreed, tracing circles on your knee.
“The second thing has to do with what me, Seonghwa, and Yeosang discussed back when I first joined. We had a long conversation about our heats and how we handle them and who we handle them with and –”
“Y/N,” he interrupted your rambling. “It’s okay, you can just tell me.”
“I’mstillavirgin,” you muttered way too quickly. He stared at you with one eyebrow raised, silently asking you to repeat yourself. You took a deep breath. Honestly, you didn’t know why you were so nervous to tell him when it was so easy to talk about with the other omegas. “I am still a virgin.” The silence that followed made you anxious, only getting worse when Hongjoong closed his eyes and counted to ten.
“Okay!” He sounded almost too chipper. “That’s fine, no problem.”
“Riiiiiight,” you trailed off, baffled by his reaction. “Uh, that’s everything. We can go back to the dorms now.” You stood, grabbing your backpack and his laptop bag then leaving your apartment.
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You and Hongjoong walked into an empty living room. He set both of your bags down, then wrapped his arms around your shoulders from behind, effectively hiding your new mark. He covered your ears.
“Everyone in the living room!” He shouted and immediately footsteps approached from all over the dorm. His hands dropped back down to their original spot on your shoulders. One by one, the other pack members filed into the living room. No one sat, too on edge from the head alpha’s disappearance last night.
“Care to explain why you never came back last night?” Seonghwa questioned with a hand on his hip. 
“I’m sure most, if not all of you, have noticed how tired Y/N has been.” Everyone nodded and you hid behind Hongjoong’s arms. You thought you were hiding your exhaustion pretty well. “Our precious little omega has been having nightmares because of her piece of shit classmate.”
“What? Why didn’t you tell us?” Seonghwa’s voice filled with concern as he stepped forward to run a hand through your hair.
“I thought I could handle it, that they’d go away on their own,” you admitted softly, looking up at your elder omega through your lashes. 
“That’s why I didn’t come back last night. We’re not going to let her sleep alone, whether she’s over here or one of us is at her apartment.” Hongjoong flicked his eyes across each of his pack members. He smiled fondly when they all agreed with no hesitation. “How about some good news?” He stepped back, letting his arms fall from you to his sides. You were instantly crowded by the betas and omegas of the group, with San and Jongho lingering a tiny bit further away. 
“Yes! Holy shit, you’re officially ours, dollface,” Wooyoung laughed and ran his fingers over your new mark. Seonghwa swatted his hand away.
“Don’t touch it! It’s still healing,” he scolded the younger beta. Wooyoung held his hands up in surrender.
“Okay, okay, jeez.” San rested his chin on Wooyoung’s head to get a better view of your neck. You blushed under all of the attention. In the opposite corner of the room, Hongjoong whispered to Mingi and Yunho. They not-so-subtly glanced over to you every so often. Curiosity got the better of you, and you wormed your way out of the doting hands of Yeosang and Seonghwa. 
“What are we talking about?” You inserted yourself between Hongjoong and Yunho, the latter slinging an arm over your shoulders.
“Hongjoong was just telling us that you asked him to be there for your heat,” Mingi started with a sly grin.
“And that you want his claim during it,” Yunho concluded. You scrunched your eyebrows at them.
“Yeah? I think that’s pretty normal, so why are you guys acting weird?” You looked between the two taller alphas.
“I’m just warning you now: I don’t think either of us will be patient enough to wait until your next heat to add our own claiming marks,” Mingi stated with a shrug. You hummed and leaned into Yunho’s side.
“I wasn’t really expecting you to with how far apart my heats are.”
“What do you mean?” Hongjoong turned your head to him by your chin. 
“Seonghwa and Yeosang didn’t tell you? I’m on a suppressant that pushes them to every three months,” you explained.
“Is that healthy? Why do you need them, anyway?” Yunho asked next, trailing his fingers over your bicep.
“I need them because my heats were excruciatingly painful. Yes, they’re completely safe. The only side effect I really have basically took the pain and turned it to neediness,” you snickered at your attempt at a joke. No one else laughed. In fact, Yunho tensed at your side and Hongjoong had to close his eyes for a few deep breaths again. You looked at Mingi, but he was faring no better, covering his mouth with his hand.
“Okay!” Hongjoong had the same overly chipper tone as earlier that morning. “Thank you for telling us. I gotta go work on that mix more, see you in a bit.” He pecked your forehead then practically sprinted down the hallway, laptop bag in hand. The other two alphas left with similar excuses, leaving you alone in the living room. You were once again baffled by their reactions, and it must have shown on your face.
“Everything alright?” San asked as he re-entered the room. You sat on the couch with a huff. The beta set his gym bag on the counter then took the seat next to you.
“Yeah, I’m just confused, is all.” He arched his brow, gesturing for you to continue. “I’m confused with the way Hongjoong, Yunho, and Mingi reacted to something I said. This morning I told Hongjoong that I’ve never had sex, then just now I told the three of them about my heat suppressants and the way it makes me super needy. All three of them got really quiet and really tense. They’re not upset, are they?”
“Nope,” San managed to say between his giggles. “I promise they’re not mad. They were probably just trying to keep themselves in check.”
“What do you mean?”
“Honey, our pack is entirely doms and switches. Hongjoong has a huge corruption kink. Him, Yunho, and Mingi were holding themselves back from jumping your bones right then and there.” Your jaw dropped at his bluntness. This was interesting.
“Oh, you have to tell me more,” you insisted while poking his ribs. He laughed, gently pushing your hand away.
“Ah-ah, that’s gonna be something you have to discuss with everyone individually.” San checked his watch. “I gotta meet Changbin at the gym soon.” He stood to grab his bag, but paused to smirk at you. “I can give you a hint, though.”
“Yes! Tell me.” San leaned over you, bracing himself on the couch on either side of your head, effectively caging you in.
“Our alphas and your fellow omegas are all mean.” Your breath hitched, both at his proximity and his admission, red coating your cheeks and ears.
“What about you?” 
“Me? I’m one of the nice ones.” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips then walked out the door like nothing happened. You gawked at the front door until someone cleared their throat from the hallway. Wooyoung leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.
“Does he always do that?” You pointed in the direction San went in, assuming he heard enough to know what you were talking about.
“Oh, yes. San is too patient for his own good. He’ll tease you for days just to see you get riled up and desperate for him,” Wooyoung wiggled his eyebrows at you. 
“And he says he’s a nice one,” you scoffed, fanning your heated face with your hands. 
“He is, trust me.” With a wink, Wooyoung disappeared back down the hall. You shook your head, no less confused than you were 10 minutes ago. Jongho and Seonghwa passed through the room as you pulled your book out of your backpack. The latter grabbed a list off the fridge, meeting up with Yunho and leaving the dorm. The youngest pack member sat next to you, handing you a water bottle and draping your legs over his lap. You fell into a comfortable silence with the beta, each absorbed in your own activities while enjoying each other’s company.
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The next day you woke up with Wooyoung practically on top of you. Last night when you left the dorm, he insisted on being the next one to stay at your apartment. You attempted to wiggle out from under him, making the beta whine in the back of his throat. He wrapped his arms tighter around your middle.
“Wooyoung, let go I have to pee,” you shoved his shoulder half-heartedly. He buried his nose in your hair, pointedly ignoring you. “Wooyoung.”
“Ugh, fine!” He reluctantly let you go so you could both get ready to go back to the dorms. You really need to figure out when you could move in, the back and forth was getting annoying. You barely had a chance to set your backpack on the couch when Yunho grabbed your hand and pulled you right back out the door.
“Yunho, where are we going? I wanted to work on my code,” you complained but didn’t fight him, easily letting him lead you outside where Hongjoong and Mingi waited.
“We,” he started, gesturing between himself and the other alphas. “Are taking you on a date.”
“What?! Why didn’t you tell me, I would’ve dressed nicer!” You looked down at your sweater and jeans.
“You look great, come on,” Hongjoong took your other hand, lacing your fingers together. You walked between the two with Mingi right behind you. It almost felt like you had bodyguards. They guided you through the subway and a short walk later you stared wide-eyed in the lobby of the Seoul Science Center. You, Yunho, and Mingi waited off to the side while Hongjoong got your tickets.
“I’ve never been here,” you grinned while looking through a pamphlet detailing the exhibits. 
“Really? That’s surprising, considering your field of study,” Yunho commented, accepting his ticket when Hongjoong held it out to him. 
For the next couple hours, your alphas followed behind you, listening intently as you gushed over the displays. You were happy to explain anything they didn’t understand and looking up the things that none of you knew. At one point you got stuck trying to figure out how to start a demonstration. You futzed around with the damn thing for nearly fifteen minutes before giving up. A young girl and her father came up beside your group. The girl was maybe ten-years-old at most, but she activated the demo in about three seconds. You collectively decided to browse the gift shop after that.
It was late in the afternoon when you returned to the dorms. You went to collapse onto the couch, groaning dramatically at Mingi pulling you into the kitchen to place you on the counter and stand between your legs.
“You’re letting them get away with too much,” Seonghwa remarked on his way into the living room. “Remember to share. You guys have had her all day.”
“Five more minutes, then she’s all yours,” Hongjoong responded as he and Yunho joined the two of you. 
“Any reason why I’m still being held hostage?” You raised an eyebrow at them.
“Kiss,” was the only explanation you got before Mingi dipped down to connect his lips to yours. One hand held the back of your neck, the other resting on the counter next to your thigh. His tongue slipped into your mouth, running along yours before pulling away with a light nip to your bottom lip. Satisfied with your dazed expression, Mingi gave you another quick kiss then left so Yunho could take his place.
“Did you have fun today?” He cupped your cheek with one hand, brushing his thumb over the flushed skin. You nodded rapidly, pressing your forehead to his. “Good.” The force of his kiss contrasted the gentle touches he trailed across your neck and hip. He licked into your mouth, guiding your tongue to his so he could suck on it. A string of saliva connected you when he pulled back to kiss down your jaw and neck. Hongjoong growled in warning when Yunho got too close to your mating gland. The younger alpha rolled his eyes, shooting you a wink before following Mingi’s path further into the dorms.
“Don’t be mean,” you tried to scold Hongjoong but your smile took the sting out of it. He pressed himself into you, pulling your legs to wrap around his waist.
“Oh, you haven’t seen mean yet, babe,” he smirked, eyes intense and lips ghosting over yours. You inhaled sharply to suppress the whimper that threatened to escape your throat. His mouth devoured yours, all tongue and teeth. Hongjoong’s self-restraint frayed at the edges as he allowed himself to roll his hips against yours once, just to hear your tiny moan. He tore himself away from you, leaning closer to your ear.
“I need to stop it here, my pretty omega. Or I’m gonna end up fucking you on the counter,” his voice sent a shiver through your body. 
“W-why can’t you?” You stammered and scratched his scalp at the base of his neck. He sent you a warning look that only succeeded at sending a rush of heat to your lower belly.
“The first time I fuck you is going to be during your heat,” he stated firmly. 
“But why?” Your whine was cut off by Hongjoong gripping your jaw. 
“Don’t argue. You should know this, sweetheart. We produce the strongest bond that way. Understand?” You pouted, but nodded against his hold. His eyes softened immediately. “Good girl. Go give some love to the others.” You tried to keep the praise from going to your head while he lifted you off the counter. At the doorway of the kitchen, Hongjoong steered you to the living room with a pat to your backside. 
“Finally!” Seonghwa quipped, pulling you to sit on his lap when you were close enough. His arms draped lazily around your waist. Yeosang scooted closer to maneuver your legs over his lap, resting his head on the eldest’s shoulder. “Are you staying here tonight or going back to your apartment?”
“As much as I’d like to stay here, all of my school stuff is back at mine. We gotta figure out when I can move in, and what room I’d be moving into,” you noted offhandedly. 
“Hmm, your heat’s in two weeks. Do you want to wait until after to talk about it with everyone?” Yeosang suggested.
“Yeah, that sounds good,” you agreed and relaxed into Seonghwa’s chest to watch a movie that Jongho put on. After dinner, you and San returned to your apartment. You fell asleep that night tucked safely under the beta’s chin.
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Permanent Taglist: @furfoxsake22 @babygirlskz98 @miniverse-zen @holly-here @corgilover20 @eastjonowhere @bookswillfindyouaway
Series Taglist: @popcatx0 @m00njinnie @awkward-fucking-thing @fr34k4c1dr41n @nchhuhi @pixie0627
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gothsuguru · 10 months ago
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working on my pinned/masterlist/etc omfg i can’t wait until all that is done and that shit can get out of my drafts
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lokis-army-77 · 1 year ago
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Private Viewing
Camboy!Eddie Munson x fem reader
Word Count: 6.8k
What happens when your favorite camboy is in your class? You should stop watching his content... or should you? What happens when you are eventually paired together for a project? Everything will be just fine, won't it?
Warning: 18 +. This is pure fucking filth. Spit, masturbation (m and f), use of vibrators and fleshlight, choking, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral (f reviving), fingering, voyeurism? Soft!dom Eddie, tell me if I'm missing anything.
Thank you @lesservillain for giving me this wonderful idea. 💗 and @munson-blurbs for figuring out if I should do this for Steve or Eddie and for helping give me a title💗.
Masterlist
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Nothing but slick sounds filled your room, the occasional deep moan calling out from your laptop speakers accompanying your own sweet cries. The guy on the screen, Ed as he called himself, or DungeonMaster as he was known on Only Fans and Twitter, was fisting his cock in his heavily ringed hand. He was putting on a show for more than ten thousand viewers but the way he stared down the camera with those dark eyes made you think he was watching you, fucking his hand to the way you were pumping your fingers in and out of your soaking wet pussy. 
You had stumbled upon his Twitter three months ago and he immediately captured your eye. The way his tattoos wrapped around his pale skin, how he wasn’t all lean muscle like the other OF guys, his tummy by no means a six-pack but he still looked strong enough to sweep you off your feet with ease. His moans were heavenly and so was the deep timber of his force as he praised you through the thirty-second video clip. It was all enough to convert you from your usual consumption of smutty books to the infamous Only Fans sight. 
Since then, his streams and videos have become the one and only thing you get off to. And like then, tonight was no exception. 
You were so close to the edge, Ed’s moans spurring you on. Your fingers move at an almost inhuman pace in and out, in and out. 
“Rub that clit for me, baby. Need you to cum.” He groaned, head resting on his shoulder as he continued you pleasure himself. 
“Fuck!” You gasp as you rub your clit with your free hand. Your rhythm is horribly off but it doesn’t matter, you are so close to cumming. So so so close. “Please,” you beg out into your empty room. You aren’t too sure why or what you are pleading for. More friction? More fingers? More words of encouragement from him? Maybe you’re asking to cum? 
It’s like he had heard you through the screen as he moaned out, “That’s a good girl. Just like that. Doing so well for me. You gonna cum baby? Yeah? Me too. Want me to count for you?” He nods his head lazily. “I knew you would baby. Okay. Five.”
You want to cry.
“Four.” 
The strings tugging inside you are becoming taut.
“Three.”
You feel like you’re going to explode. He’s counting too slowly.
“Two.”
The tears are flowing now.
“One.”
You let out a strangled scream.
“Cum baby. Do it, now.”
Your walls clench around your fingers and your legs snap shut, trapping your fingers. Every muscle in your body is shuddering as those strings snap and your release comes out in a stream, wetting your hand and the bed. Your hearing has gone, there’s a ringing in your ears but you can faintly hear Ed cumming as well. 
With watery vision and slow movements, you turn to face your laptop screen just in time to see his tattoo-covered chest painted with milky white ropes of cum. 
When the ringing subsides you hear him say more clearly, “Thata girl. Always make me cum so much.” He takes a towel and wipes off his chest and stomach before adjusting the camera view to the shoulders up. “Get you some rest baby, I’ll see you on Thursday.” 
And then the live is over. 
Slowly, sluggishly, you remove your hands from between your legs and begin the now regular clean-up routine before going to bed. 
Three days later, Thursday rolls around, and thus begins the fall semester of your junior year of college. It’s a groggy morning, everyone is tired and very unenthusiastic about having an 8 a.m. advanced music composition class. 
You had struggled to get out of bed at six this morning just to get one of the dorm showers first before they were all taken up. Luckily two of the five were open and you were able to get to class a whole twenty minutes early, even having time to grab coffee at the on-campus Starbucks on the way.
The music building was old and the tables you and your fellow students sat at were even older. It all added to the sleepy ambiance. Your eyes drooped and you yawned every time someone else did, the black coffee you had chugged not doing anything for you. 
You’re only awoken when your professor, a stout old man with a very severe receding hairline, slams open the door to the classroom a little too hard and it hits the brick wall, creating a loud, startling bang. 
He apologizes before making his introduction.  He then gets out a clipboard with a sheet attached and hands it off to a girl in the front row, instructing everyone to fill in their name and school email for his role sheet.
It’s only once you’ve finished and passed the clipboard on, that you notice the guy two seats down from you looks vaguely familiar. You can’t quite put a finger on it and it bugs you. 
His hair is pulled back into a messy bun and his clothes make him look like the alternative guy of your dreams back in high school. He’s got rings on almost every finger and an aura that just screams confidence. 
It begins to become a problem, your inability to place this guy's face. You’ve only taken a handful of notes the entire first hour and thirty minutes into this two-hour class. Your eyes are constantly staring at him no matter how hard you try to make yourself pay attention. 
Then, he raises his hand to answer one of your professor's questions. That’s when it clicks. Your pen falls from your grasp and your mouth forms an O. 
“Oh my fucking god. No. It can’t be.” You think to yourself but just to be sure you take out your phone, turn the brightness and volume down, and hide it under the table. You open Twitter as fast as you can and you don’t even have to look for his user, he’s the first post on the screen. 
Ed @ DungeonMaster86 was boldly displayed above a picture of the guy sitting next to you with his massive dick in his hand. 
It’s a wonder you weren’t caught with how you practically choked on thin air and began furiously looking from your phone to the guy and then back to your phone. 
Your stomach drops. You can’t keep watching his videos, can you? That wouldn’t be right. That would be weird, watching the porn your classmate makes. 
When class is finally called to an end you pack up as quickly as you can and bolt out the door to your next class, hoping that by getting away from Ed, you'd be able to concentrate. Out of sight, out of mind.
That statement turns out to be false when he is in your next class and when you spot him in the student commons talking with another guy. It's like once you made the connection of who he was, he was everywhere.
Arriving back at your dorm, you throw your backpack on your desk, snatch your laptop out of it, and struggle to jump up onto your bed. Never had you been so thankful for the single dorm than this moment as your curser hovered over the bookmarked Only Fans page at the top of your screen. No roommate meant no one would see the moral dilemma you were currently losing with yourself. 
‘You know him, it’s wrong to keep watching his videos.”
‘What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him though. The only way he would know you are watching is if you tell him, you aren’t going to tell him, are you?’
‘No…’ 
‘Then it’s okay, it’ll just add an extra element of taboo to his streams. Plus, he’d miss you in the chat.’
You sigh as the devil on your shoulder wins out once again, talking you into something you know you shouldn’t be. But hey, it feels good to be bad. 
Steadily, you click on his bookmarked profile and the first thing to pop up is the live stream that is currently in session. And against your better judgment, you enter the stream.
He’s only just started, people are slowly filtering in. Ed is sitting on the edge of his bed, shirt off, and a singular, ringed hand teasing himself through his black jeans. 
You breathe a sigh as he looks into the camera, eyes half-lidded, luring you in. It does the job, because in an instant your fingers are typing out a message in chat. 
Princess23: hi Ed
His eyes flicker as he reads his messages, smiling as he replies to you. "Hi, Princess. How's my girl been?"
There's a bubble of excitement at the fact that he recognizes your username, even if you've been a regular in the chat for months.
Princess23: stressful… you've been distracting me.
The reply to his question is truer than he realizes. 
"Aww, princess, is that so? You've been thinking of me?" He leans back on his free elbow, still groping himself with the other hand.
Princess23: yes. been thinking about your cock, how much I want it in my mouth. 
It's one of the less bold comments you make but it makes you blush all the same, especially now.
"Yeah? You want me to fuck that pretty little mouth? Of yours?"
Princess23: yes please
"Mmm." He hums, fingers now fumbling with the button and zipper of his jeans. 
You set your laptop to the side and start to situate yourself. Slowly taking your clothes off one by one. 
Ed replies to a few more comments before announcing that it's time to start.
He leaves the screen for just a moment before coming back with something in his hand. Smirking at the camera he shows it. A flashlight in the shape of a mouth.
"This one’s for you, Princess. Since you need my dick so bad," Ed explains. He sets it on his bed before making a show of taking his jeans and boxers off. 
As you watch, your hands roam your body. Fingers pinching and pulling at your sensitive nipples before trailing down. The light touch over your ribs makes you giggle. Then you rub and scratch at the inside of your thighs. 
Ed's moans are now coming through your speakers, you tilt your head to watch.
"Spit on my cock baby, get it nice and wet for me." He commands before spitting in his own hand and rubbing it on his thick length. 
"Your mouth looks so pretty like this, waiting, drooling for me. Need me to fill it so bad don't you, baby?" 
"Yes." You answer him breathlessly, fingers teasing around your mound. 
You watch and he sits back down on his bed, thighs spread, a hand cupping his balls and the other grabbing the fleshlight. He lets out a long, drawn-out moan when he inserts his cock into the fake mouth. 
"Fuck baby, your mouth feels so perfect." 
You can't help but whine. Allowing your fingers to finally circle your clit. 
The both of you go one like this for a bit. Him fucking the fleshlight and you massaging your clit. But then you need more, more than your hand can give you. So you reach to your bedside table, stretching at an uncomfortable angle to open the drawer and pull out the purple mini wand you kept there.
The vibrations start slow and constant as you press the toy to your clit. It pulls soft, quiet noises from you as you watch your computer screen. Your mind is blank, filled only with the pretty sounds Ed is making, the way his body looks, and the pleasure between your legs.
There are no thoughts. You follow his lead. When his hand speeds up, you kick up the vibrations, when he slows down, you turn the vibrator back to the first level. 
It's a rollercoaster, almost, taking your pleasure for a ride. The stream isn't even done yet when you feel that tight pull in your abdomen. The toy works you up fast. 
So you stop. Taking the toy away and changing positions. On your hands and knees, you hug a pillow to your chest and prop the toy up under you, keeping it standing as you push your clit down onto it. It's not even on and it's making your hips buck in sensitivity.
You turn it back on and immediately feel the slick seeping from your cunt and running down the toy. 
"Oh fuck," you cry.  Your eyes locked on the screen where Ed has also changed positions. 
He's got his own toy lying on the bed and he's laying over it. The way his leg and glute muscles contract as he thrusts into the toy has you memorized. 
He chants, "Baby, baby, baby." Over and over. What you would give to have him chanting your name instead. Like a prearranged falling from his lips, praising you, worshiping you.
The need for him grows and so does the tightness in your core. 
Reaching your hand down you turn the speed up. Your hips buck into the toy and you bury your face in the pillow. You're close.
He’s not far behind. Peering up from your pillow you can see his thrusts are sputtering. Sporadic as he draws close to his end. 
“God dammit, baby. Gonna cum in this perfect mouth of yours. Fuck. Can you swallow it like the good pet you are? Hum? The good pet I know you can be?”
“Yes.” You turn up the vibrator. “Fuck, wanna swallow all of you. Please.” 
The vibrations are becoming too much but you keep the toy pressed into you, hips shaking at the feeling of being overstimulated. 
Without warning, you cum with a guttural cry into your pillow. Body spasming, muscles twitching. You can still hear Ed moaning and the sloppy sounds of his cock fucking the fleshlight. 
With barely any energy you reach down between your heavy body and the bed and turn your toy off. You don’t even bother with your computer, too exhausted and fucked out to exit the stream. You fall asleep to the sounds of your new classmate's self-pleasure. 
It’s October now. The semester is halfway over and you’ve still been watching Ed, or Eddie. You learned his actual name in class when your professor called role on him by name the second week. 
Today you are being assigned a partner for the final project. You have your fingers crossed that Eddie won’t be chosen as your partner but as your professor calls out pairs, it seems luck is against you. 
You freeze when your name is called and directly after so is Eddie’s. You groan internally. How the hell are you supposed to do this? You already have trouble concentrating when he sits two seats away, what’s going to happen when he actually interacts with you?
There isn’t much time to think about that as he abruptly moves from his seat to the one directly next to you. 
“Hi.” He says, eyes bright and expectant. “I’m Eddie.” He holds out his hand for you to shake but you just stare at him. He looks at you curiously before waving his hand in front of your face. “Hello? Cat got your tongue?”
You snap out of your stupor and accept his hand, shaking it as you introduce yourself. “Sorry. I was a bit out of it.” You say, trying to play it off as you just staring off into space. 
“No problem.” He smiles. “Uh, do you want to exchange numbers so we can figure out when we can work on this together?” 
“Oh, yeah. Here,” You open your phone and push it to him with the messages app open. “You can text yourself.” 
He does just that, even going as far as putting in his contact name as Eddie with the skull and crossbones emoji beside it. 
“Great. I’ll text you when I’m free. I have work on Mondays and Thursdays, sometimes on Saturdays, but other than that I’m usually free.”
You nearly choke when you realize he’s given you his streaming schedule. “I- uh. Okay. Just text me when you can.”
"Sure thing sweetheart." He grins at you before standing, grabbing his things, and heading out of class along with the rest of the students. 
You sit there for a minute, thinking. God, what are you getting yourself into?
You both have finally come up with meeting times that work for both of you. Tuesday and Wednesday after seven. Giving you time to get to the school library after the closing shift at your on-campus job. 
It’s been two weeks of working together on this project and it’s been easier than you had originally thought to concentrate on the task at hand and keep your dirty thoughts at bay. 
Right now, you are both sitting in one of the private study rooms looking at Eddie’s computer as he explains why this particular cord progression would fit with the emotions you are trying to convey in your composition. 
You sigh, “Eddie, as much as I love that sound, I really don’t think it fits with the overall composition of the song. It isn’t as emotionally charged as I’d like it to be.”
“Well show me something similar to what you’re wanting.” He rakes his hand through his hair. It’s been a long night for each of you. It seems that every new section of the song you are creating for the project gives you a new challenge to work through together. 
You pull out your phone and Eddie leans over to watch as you begin to type. There is a particular song you are thinking of that has the weight and emotion you are trying to convey with your own music and as you type the first letter of the song, O, the first suggestion that pops up is onlyfans/DungeonMaster. 
Mortified, you slam your phone down on the table. Eddie looks at you with an eyebrow raised. 
“What was that?” He asks.
“What was what?” You answer. 
“Why did you slam your phone down?”
“Oh, I just forgot the title of the song.”
“Right…” He scratches under his chin and then stretches back in his chair. “Why don’t we call it quits for tonight? It’s getting late and we aren’t going to agree on anything if we’re both tired.”
A yawn suddenly comes up out of nowhere and you then realize how tired you actually are. “That sounds good to me.” You agree with Eddie and begin packing up your things. You don’t want to be with him longer than you need to be right now, even if he seemingly didn’t notice his OF user pop up on your phone screen. 
“Bye Eddie.” You wave to him on your way out the door.
Faintly you hear him call out to you, giving a goodbye of his own. "See ya, sweetheart."
… 
After your little slip, you began avoiding Eddie. At least in person, you still tuned into his streams. You bailed on the next three meetups you had planned, helping only through voice notes and text. Eddie said he understood when you said your boss was forcing you to stay late to deep clean. 
It was Thursday now and when you saw him in class he barely looked your way and you wondered if he had seen what you hoped he had not. 
You tried stopping him once your lecture was over, feeling an anxiousness creeping into your mind. Your conscience had been telling you to come clean. To explain your perversion. Let him know you watched him, that you paid to enjoy seeing him fuck into a toy or his hand. 
You called out his name and reached for his arm. "Eddie."
He turns to you. "Hum?"
You take a deep breath to ground yourself. "I wanted to say sorry for not being able to come help with the project."
"It's okay, you said you had work." He replies, unbothered. 
"No, Eddie, I didn't get held back at work. That was a lie."
He doesn't look all too surprised. 
"I've kinda been avoiding you because- well, because of what I think you might have seen on my phone that day."
Eddie stops you there. "Can this wait until later? I've really got some errands to run before work."
"Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry to keep you Ed." You had meant it as a nickname but as it came pushing past your lips it was too late to take it back. You had never heard anyone call him that outside of his onlyfans. 
You watched as his eyes widened at the name and a spark went off behind them. "I'll see you later sweetheart." The smirk he gives you isn't the usual playful one you'd seen him throw before. No, this was sinister, like he knew.
Your heart fell into your stomach as you watched him walk away, leaving you alone.
Tonight as you logged into the stream, it wasn’t to get off. It was to see if he'd show any signs of knowing you might be lurking about among the thousands of viewers.
When the video loads, Eddie is sitting in his desk chair. He's talking to the chat like he always does. There's something different in the atmosphere around him, mischief if you've placed it correctly. 
He keeps replying to comments until the clock reaches 6:10. It's time for the show to begin. 
"Tonight I have a very special treat for you guys." Eddie starts as he reaches over just off camera to his desk. "I've got the wand out." 
The chat erupts. Eddie doesn't bring his vibrator out often, but when he does, you know it's going to be a good show for every party involved. 
"I would also like to say hello to a special quest in the stream tonight." Eddie’s smirk gets bigger and your heart pounds in your chest. "Hi, sweetheart. Hope you enjoy yourself." 
You feel like you've been shot. There's a ringing in your ears and your breathing has stopped. 
He knows. Fuck. He definitely knows. You've never heard him say that pet name on camera. It's always babe or baby when he refers to the collective whole watching the stream. Eddie has only ever used that name with you.
Eddie starts up the vibrator, tracing it over his covered cock. He hums at the feeling, loud and long. 
You clench your thighs together. You tell yourself you should stop watching but you can't bring yourself to. 
'He knows." You argue with yourself.
'But he wants you to watch. Why else would he say his pet name for you? Why else would he say he hopes you enjoy yourself? He knows and he likes it.'
The devil on your shoulder makes sense again and you curse it. 
So, you watch. Intently, you watch. Your eyes never leave the screen. 
Eddie whimpers once he has his cock out of his pants. The tip is a deep purple/red color, showing how worked up he's gotten already.
He lets his head fall back, resting on his chair as he moves the vibrator down to his balls. He presses it into himself before dragging it up his shaft and to the head. 
You feel a wetness seeping into the cotton of your panties and as his legs widen, yours press together more. 
"Oh fuck. Oh fuck, sweetheart." Eddie moans, mouth open slack and eyes squeezed shut. 
You can't believe he's saying your pet name and making those noises. You wonder what he's thinking about. How you'd look sucking on his cock? Maybe what it would be like to be pounding into you, watching your cunt suck him in and clench around him. 
Eddie grits his teeth when he turns the speed up. One hand is holding the vibrator just at the frenulum while the other is cupping and squeezing his balls. 
Your thoughts are running wild and your hips have started to rock in search of some kind of friction.
He moves his hand from his balls and begins to tug on his shaft. Deep guttural moans fill the air, and the sound of them turns you on even more. 
It's not long before Eddie is bucking his cock into his hand. You can see his muscles straining in his legs as he does. 
"Fuck fuck fuck- ah fuck sweetheart, you've got me so close. Fuck." His voice is pinched. You can see the exhaustion in the furrow of his eyebrows as he pressed the vibrator over his tip, the change in placement making his hips shudder. “God, I’m gonna cum. The thought of you is gonna make me cum, sweetheart.” 
Hearing his breathy, deep, timber of a voice say that the thought of you was going to do him in had you thinking you might just cum too. No touching required, just Eddie and his beautiful noises. 
In a matter of seconds, Eddie is choking on his words as his balls go taut. He lets out a drawn-out grunt and ropes of cum begin to spurt out over his chest, covering him like a painting. He doesn’t even bother to clean himself up before he looks into the camera and says good night, chuckling when he mentions your particular pet name again. Then, the screen goes dark. 
Fridays are slow in the used bookshop you work at. Especially after 4:30. No one had been inside in maybe an hour? Your boss left early, leaving you alone to close down at 6. For the past fifteen minutes, you’ve been putting misplaced books back where they belong, sweeping, and tidying up anything else you see. 
Because of the usual slowness, you have your headphones on. The music isn’t loud but it does drown out the sound of the bell chiming as someone enters the building. You are unaware of the person creeping up behind you until you are suddenly turned around and corralled against the bookshelf. 
You let out an alarmed screech only for your mouth to be covered by a big, warm hand. Your headphones fall to the floor beside you as they are accidentally knocked off your head. You hear his voice then, whispering in your ear. 
“Hi, Sweetheart.” 
“Eddie-” You heave, relieved it wasn’t someone coming to kill you in cold blood.
“Did you enjoy my show last night?” He leans back, caressing a strand of hair away from your face. 
You shake your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You deny. Even after you had told yourself you would come clean to him, granted that was before you knew he knew your secret. 
“You don’t know, do you? I think you do why else would my account have popped up on your search suggestions the other day?” 
Keeping your mouth shut, you refuse to answer. 
Eddie takes your chin between his fingers and moves your face to the side as he leans into you. His lips tickle the shell of your ear as he speaks again. “So… Which one of my subs are you? Hum?”
Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. 
Eddie tuts. “Don’t get all shy on me. Tell me. Now.” His tone is dominating. It’s one thing to hear it over a computer speaker, it's another when you hear it in person. His presence alone had your knees knocking. 
“I-I,” You can't help but stutter. “It’s Princess23.” You shamefully tell him your user, eyes looking anywhere but his.
He sucks in a breath. “Oh, Princess. That was you?”
He forces you to look at him and you nod your head. 
You hate that he’s making you look him in the eye, but you can see what’s swirling around deep within them. Desire, lust, dominance, but nothing mean. Nothing hurtful. 
As you watch him, you catch the minute changes in his expression. His jaw clenches and his eyes darken, a hunger taking over as he stares you down. 
“I can give you a private show if you want, baby.” He leans back in. “Right here,” He nipps at your ear lobe. “Right now.” 
“Eddie, we can’t… We’re at my work.” 
He looks around you, head swiveling to peer down both ends of the aisle. “It’s fine Sweetheart, no one’s here but us, right?”
“Yes, but-”
He cuts you off with a finger over your lips. 
“Then let me show you why the real thing is so much better than what you’ve seen online.” He doesn’t give you time to think before his lips are on yours. 
They are soft, almost pillow-like as they mold against yours. His tongue slithers its way into your mouth, tasting you, he moans when he does. 
To you, he tastes like menthol cigarettes and black coffee with the faintest hint of weed. It’s intoxicating, and addicting. You’ve only had one taste and now you won't be able to function without him.  
His hand cups your cheek and pulls you closer. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers tugging at his hair. His body keeps you pinned to the shelves and he spreads your legs by inserting one of his own between them.
With him being so much taller than you, it only takes you barely bending your knees for you to make contact with his thigh. You are thankful when he doesn’t stop you from humping his leg. The friction of you rubbing yourself against him has the seam of your pants pressing against your clit. It’s a wonderful pressure that leaves your mind blank. 
When he pulls away, you follow, not wanting his mouth to leave yours. Eddie chuckles when you give a needy whine. 
"It's okay baby, I'll give you what you want." He coos. "But first, since you wanna get yourself off, you've got to make yourself cum on my leg."
You pout. "But Eddie…"
"Ah ah, don't complain sweet girl, you'll only make it take longer. Now get to work."
You do as he says, rolling your hips with purpose against him. He doesn't help you at all, he only provides support and kissed along your jaw every few seconds as he watches you work. 
It's harder than you thought it would be. The layers of denim dulled the sensations yet added to the tension your clit felt as the fabric rubbed against it. 
"Mmm, fuck." You gasp, fingers gripping onto Eddie’s shoulders. "M'so close. Eddie, I'm so close."
He smiles at you and he gives your body gentle touches. "That's it, Princess. Let go. Being such a good girl for me."
You moan loudly at his praise. 
"That right sweet girl, use me to get yourself off. That's it, keep going."
His words are spurring you on, your hips, although losing their rhythm and steadiness, keep going strong. Then, you feel it. That tautness in your tummy and the ache in your bones. You are so close.
"Please, Eddie. Ah- so close. Need more." Your words are short and your hips move faster. 
"What is it, baby? What do you need?" Eddie asks, willing to give you just a little.
"Kiss me again," you beg. 
He obliges. Taking your face in his hands and practically devouring you. 
The canter of your hips stalls as your body shudders against him. A sticky wetness can now be felt,  uncomfortably, between your legs.
"So good for me." He praises.
You can feel how hard he is, his needy cock prominently pressing into your thigh.
"Wanna feel you. Eddie please, I need to feel you." You're practically begging him to fuck you now.
"Yeah, sweet girl? You need me to stretch that pretty pussy on my dick? Make you feel so good, baby." He trailed his kiss down to your neck, stopping only to suck and nip at the sensitive skin. 
You nod frantically. "Yes, yes Eddie. Need you inside me."
Hands rush to unbutton pants, fingers caress bare skin, breaths hitch. You tug at Eddie's pants impatiently as he pulls your own down. The sudden feeling of cold air hitting the pool of slick between your thighs. 
You are both a whirlwind of arms and clothes and a few books falling from their shelf. Eddie’s fingers make their way to your center, exploring between your folds. 
You throw your head back, cracking it on the shelf above. "Ow," You moan out in pain.
"Careful there, Sweetheart." He gives you another kiss and moves his unoccupied hand to cradle your head.
The pain is instantly forgotten when two of his thick fingers circle your clit before pushing into your entrance.
"Mmmm- god." He feels so good inside you, fingers curling into your walls. The wet slick of him moving fills the stagnant air of the bookstore.
"You're sucking me in, baby. Pussy squeezing me so tight." Eddie rests his forehead on yours, his breath mixing with your own. "Can't wait to feel you around my cock."
Gasping in response, you buck your hips up into his hand. "More-"
It doesn't take much convincing for Eddie to pull his hand from between your legs and position his hard length at your entrance. Slowly he slips inside, meeting no resistance with how wet you are. 
Eddie pushes into you, cock stretching you out farther than you think you've ever been before. His one hand rests on the back of your head while the other pushes your shaking hand out of his way as he goes to press it against your neck.
You grasp his arm, nails scratching his skin as he chokes you. 
"Oh- oh, Eddie. Fuck me." You cry, cunt fluttering around him. 
Your words are music to his ears. His pace begins steadily. In and out at a lazy, leisurely speed. Then he picks it up, hips bucking faster and faster. 
He's giving it all to you. Everything you've dreamed of since you saw him on your Twitter all those months ago.
The head of his cock is repeatedly hitting that one spot inside of you that makes your toes curl. You can’t keep yourself up. The feelings coursing through you have your knees buckling and Eddie does a good job at catching your weight. 
He stops his movements to try and situate you. “Come on, baby, gotta stand up.” 
You shake your head. “I can’t, s’too much.” Your heart is pounding in your chest, if you even tried to stand you would just fall again. “There's a couch.” You point to the back of the store. “It’s in the break room.” 
Eddie grunts as he hoists you up in his arms and follows your directions. 
The couch is old and made of leather. It is cold on your skin as Eddie lays you down and you shiver as he rips your pants and underwear from around your ankles. Never would you have ever imagined being naked from the waist down in your work break room. 
In contrast to the cool leather, Eddie’s hands are searing hot. He grips the back of your knees, picking your legs up and spreading you out. You’re almost folded in half. 
“Jesus fucking christ. You. Are. Beautiful.” He enunciated every word. The complement has you keening and clenching around nothing. “Fuck, look at that pretty cunt. She’s gaping for me.” Eddie smiles, eyes flickering to yours before looking back to your most intimate part. 
You let out a wonton gasp when he spits, a glob of it falling right atop your parted slit. Eddie takes a hand away and grabs his cock. He rubs the tip through your folds, giving your clit a heavy tap tap tap before entering you again and grabbing the back of your knee again. 
Eddie wastes no time in pistoning his hips into yours. The new angle gives him free range of movement to fuck you fast and deep. The skin of his thighs makes a sharp slapping sound when he connects with your ass, it sets the rhythm for the song of your shared moans. 
“Pull your shirt up.” He commands and you do as he says. Lifting your shirt up and over your breasts. Eddie lets out an irritated grunt at the sight of your bra. “That too.” He puffs out and you pull it up as far as it will allow. 
Your breasts bounce as Eddie fucks you mercilessly into the couch. His eyes are shamelessly trained on them. “Fucking hell, Princess. Gimmie our hands.” 
You reach out for him and he grabs your wrists, guiding you to hold your legs back like he had been doing. With the newfound freedom of his hands, he extends them out to play with your tits.  He pinches and tugs at your nipples, making you moan in pleasure as he continues his assault. His thrusts become faster, harder, more desperate. You know he's close and you can't take much more either. 
“Eddie… Ah- Eddie-” You babble out his name. You wiggle under his hold and the harsh prodding of his cock into your cervix. The strings of another orgasm are being pulled tight. 
He growls. “I know baby, I know. Fucking cum for me. Cum on my cock.” 
Tears well up in your eyes and begin to overflow. Your body writhes, back bowing, muscles straining. You’re on the precipice. 
Eddie sees how close you are and moves a hand down between your legs, circling his thumb over your slick-covered clit. 
“Oooh- Oh fuck!” You scream. “Shit shit shit shitshitshitshit…. Ah!” 
“Louder.” He moans. “Want the whole town to hear you sweet girl.” 
“Eddie! Oh, I’m there. I’m fucking there.” You cry, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you let go. A scream erupts from your throat. Even in your ecstasy, you can feel Eddie’s tempo shift. He’s losing speed. 
“Goddammit. I cumming too.” Eddie whimpers, sinking into you fully. His cum fills you up and you can fill you as it runs down your ass as he pulls out. 
Your body is twitching as he moves you to lay more fully on the couch. He doesn’t follow though. No. He sinks to his knees and before your foggy mind can even comprehend it, he attaches his mouth to your pussy.  
You are pliant under his touch, unable to resist. His tongue explores you and you moan in pleasure. He’s lapping up the mixture of his cum and your slick, humming at the taste the whole time. 
You choke back a sob when his tongue flicks repeatedly over your clit before he begins to suck on the already abused bud. “Eddie, please.” Reaching down you tug on his hair but he doesn’t move. “Ed-” He starts shaking his head, burying himself in your pussy. 
Another orgasm is quickly approaching. Your breathing quickens and you can feel your body trembling as he works you up, sending you higher and higher until you can’t take it anymore. Your orgasm hits you like a wave, and your body spasms in pleasure. He doesn't stop, continuing his ministrations until you finally come down from your high once more.
“Christ. You taste so good.” He says as he crawls up your spent body. Draping himself over you he places kiss after tender kiss all over your face. “Did so good for me. I’m so proud of you.” 
“Yeah?” You whisper. 
“Mhum. So proud.” He grins, the light of the room catching in the wetness covering him from nose to chin. 
Eddie cuddles into you more and your eyes close. He’s exhausted you. You both lay there in silence, content in each other's presence. Eddie eventually falls asleep, his breathing slow and steady. You don’t have the heart or the energy to wake him. You stay awake, just barely, still in awe of what happened. 
It feels like hours have gone by when you finally do shake Eddie, calling out to him softly. He stirs, grumbling as he looks up at you. 
“Eds, baby, I need to lock up.” 
He only rests his head back down between your breasts. You shake him again. 
“Eddie.” You say it a bit more sternly. “Get up and I’ll let you take me back to yours.” 
That gets his attention and he’s up and dressing himself in an instant. You on the other hand are slower, feeling the prominent ache between your legs. He has to help you pull your panties and jeans back on. 
He has to help you close the store as well, your legs weak and not trusted to hold up your body weight without crumbling to the ground. 
Never had you thought this was how this would end. Sitting in the passenger seat of your favorite camboy's car as he drives you to his apartment, grinning like the Cheshire cat as you both think of all the fun things you’ll get up to. Round two was bound to be wilder than the first. 
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latenightreadingpdf · 27 days ago
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Spencer's Secret - Spencer Reid
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₊‧⁺˖⋆ Masterlist ⋆˖⁺‧₊
Summary: All Spencer wanted was to finish his paperwork and go home, but now he’s in a bar, drunk, and confessing all his secrets to Derek.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
The team had barely settled back into the office after a grueling case when Derek threw an arm over Emily’s shoulder, talking about needing a drink. Emily agreed with a weary smile, and soon enough, JJ, Penelope, and Rossi had chimed in, all eager to unwind together. Somehow, they’d even managed to convince Hotch, who gave them a reluctant nod, his rare smile hinting he could use a break too.
All that was left was Spencer. Sitting at his desk, he was hunched over, diligently finishing up his paperwork, when Derek strolled over and leaned in with his usual, "Hey, pretty boy."
Spencer looked up, already anticipating the question. "No, Derek, I’m not going."
Derek raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "I didn’t even get to ask!"
"Doesn’t matter. I’m not going," Spencer replied firmly, looking back down at his files.
"Come on, kid," Derek urged, his voice dropping to a softer, pleading tone. "Just this once. If you come, I’ll never ask again. I swear."
Spencer let out a sigh, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up with him. There was a beat of silence as he mulled it over, glancing at the hopeful faces of his teammates nearby. Finally, he closed his file, resigned. "Fine," he muttered, “but just this once."
Derek’s face broke into a grin, practically bouncing on his feet. "You heard him, guys—he’s in! Let’s go before he changes his mind."
Spencer reluctantly stood up, pulling on his coat with a sigh. He glanced around, noticing the others already gathering their things, excitement buzzing among them. As they all filed out together, Penelope slung an arm around Spencer, giving him a reassuring squeeze.
"Oh, Spence, you’ll have fun. Trust me," she said, winking.
Spencer managed a small, hesitant smile, wondering just what he was getting himself into. It wasn’t exactly his ideal night out, but surrounded by his friends, he couldn’t help but feel a faint sense of anticipation growing despite himself.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
As soon as the team settled into the bar, the weight of the last case started to fade. They ordered the first round, eager to drink, laugh, and let loose for a few hours. The drinks flowed freely, and soon they were deep in conversation, sharing old stories and laughing harder with each passing round. Spencer, who rarely drank, was feeling more than a little tipsy. Nights like these weren’t really his scene—he usually found it far more comfortable to stay home. But now, with the warm buzz in his head and his friends around, he was actually enjoying himself.
Meanwhile, Derek had been off flirting at the bar, but eventually made his way back to the booth, where Spencer was the last one still sitting. Derek, who could hold his liquor well, was only slightly buzzed. He noticed Spencer's dazed expression and grinned, sliding into the seat next to him. "Pretty boy," he said, nudging him, "there are so many gorgeous women here tonight. You should go try and have some fun, maybe even get a date."
Spencer, a little too drunk to filter his thoughts, shook his head. "Don’t need a date," he said, his words slurring slightly.
Derek raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Oh yeah? And why’s that?"
Spencer’s face softened, and he blurted, “I’ve got an amazing girlfriend at home.”
"Right, sure," Derek teased, not at all convinced. "So what’s her name?"
Spencer’s face lit up. "Y/N," he said, his voice full of adoration. He leaned in, eyes dreamy, and started rambling. “She’s incredible, Derek. So smart, so beautiful. She’s way out of my league—I still can’t believe she’s with me.”
Derek chuckled, noticing just how drunk Spencer was. It was getting late, and he knew Spencer would never make it home on his own. “Why don’t you call Y/N to pick you up, then?” he said, jokingly.
Spencer’s face brightened, and he fumbled for his phone. Derek watched in amusement as he dialed, still skeptical, until he heard a faint “Hello?” from the other end.
Spencer’s face lit up even more. “Hello, my love,” he said, voice thick with affection.
You let out a soft laugh on the other side of the line. “Hey, Spence! Everything alright?”
Spencer grinned, completely forgetting why he’d called. “Yeah,” he said dreamily. “I just…wanted to hear your pretty voice.”
You laughed, clearly touched. Derek, now genuinely surprised that someone had actually answered, took the phone from Spencer, holding it up to his ear. "Hello?" he asked, still a bit skeptical.
"Uh, hi,” you replied, a little confused. “Who is this?"
Derek cleared his throat. “This is Derek. Spencer friend.”
“Oh! Nice to finally meet you, Derek, Spencer talks about you and the team quite a bit.” you said, sounding amused. “I’m Y/N, his girlfriend.”
Derek muttered, “Holy shit, you’re real.”
"Sorry?" you asked, sounding puzzled.
“Nothing, nothing,” he chuckled. “Listen, Spencer’s had a bit too much to drink. Are you able to pick him up?”
You let out a soft, understanding laugh. “Yeah, of course. Just tell me where you guys are.”
Derek gave you the address and hung up, handing the phone back to Spencer. "Your girlfriend’s coming to get you," he said, still slightly in awe that Spencer’s been hiding a girlfriend from them.
Spencer’s eyes lit up even more. “Y/N?” he asked eagerly.
“Yeah, pretty boy, Y/N,” Derek replied, shaking his head with a grin.
Spencer slumped back in his seat with a satisfied sigh. “Finally,” he mumbled. “Someone cool to hang out with.”
Derek just laughed, patting Spencer on the shoulder. He sat down with Spencer and waited with him for Y/N to get there, eager to meet her.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
As Spencer was still happily rambling to Derek about his incredible girlfriend, the door opened, and a beautiful woman stepped into the bar. Spencer’s eyes widened instantly. "Y/N!" he exclaimed, jumping up so quickly he nearly tripped. He stumbled over to you, practically throwing himself into your arms, clinging to you like he’d just found his lifeline. He buried his face in your neck, a contented sigh escaping him.
You wrapped your arms around him, laughing softly at his drunken enthusiasm. "Looks like someone had a good time," you teased, rubbing his back.
“Missed you so much,” he mumbled into your neck, his words muffled but unmistakably fond.
Looking up, you noticed a man standing a few steps behind Spencer, observing the two of you with an amused grin. "You must be Derek," you said, offering him a warm smile.
Derek smiled back, giving a nod. "Nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you tonight."
Before you could respond, Spencer had already started tugging you gently toward the exit. You glanced back at Derek and gave him a quick smile. "Hopefully we can actually talk sometime soon," you said, laughing as Spencer clung to your arm.
Derek chuckled, nodding. "I’d like that. Take care of him. Goodnight, Y/N."
He watched as you guided a tipsy, lovesick Spencer out of the bar, a soft smile still on his face. Just then, Penelope popped up beside him, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. “What are you staring at?” she asked, following his gaze to the exit.
“Spencer’s got a girlfriend,” Derek said, unable to keep a little laugh from escaping as he recalled the whole scene.
Penelope’s eyes went wide, and she gasped, practically bouncing in place. "Wait, what?! Our Spencer? Oh my God, I need details!"
Derek smirked, shaking his head. "Calm down, babygirl. You can interrogate him tomorrow," he teased.
Penelope pouted, but the excitement was already building. After a second, she sighed dramatically, then brightened up again and grabbed Derek’s hand. “Fine! But right now, you’re dancing with me.”
Derek let her pull him to the dance floor, chuckling as he made a mental note to tease Spencer about this night for a long time.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
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whytheylosttheirminds · 2 months ago
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Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 4
(Rafe Cameron x Reader, series, 6.6k words)
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series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.
tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder
series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues
additional chapter cw: suggestive language/acts, mature readers only please
⇢ series masterlist
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Rafe lifted his fist to knock on your door.
But before he could bring his knuckles to the wood, he froze, suddenly panicked that he had no idea what he was going to say when you appeared behind it. He stepped back, crinkling the package of the candy in his hands.
“Hey, so,” he whispered, practicing to himself. “I’m sorry if that was weird. Not weird. Sorry if that was uncomfortable? I don’t know why I’m saying sorry. Hey, so, Kelce is a dick, right? Maybe I should say sorry. Fuck…”
As he paced back and forth, the floor creaked below him. He was too preoccupied with trying to find the right words to notice he was making noise. He didn’t get a chance to finish his little script, though, because you opened the door.
He froze mid-sentence, eyes wide as he looked at you, realizing you clearly heard him talking to himself. Fuck, that’s embarassing. Before he could spiral about how much you had heard, he noticed the way your nose was red at the end, eyes glossy, and cheeks stained with black smudges. You had been really crying.
“Are you okay?” He asked quietly, struck with the urge to reach out and wipe the water from your face.
“What do you want, Rafe?” You sniffled.
“I wanted to…I was…” Rafe was lost, any words he had planned completely left him at the gut wrenching sight of your tears.
He shuffled on his feet a little as you watched him with an unforgiving glare. He had to come up with something.
He extended the candy to you, “...bringing you this.”
“Thanks but that beer made me sick, I’m not really in a snacky mood,” you snipped.
He felt like a kitten coming to his owner with a present, only to be scolded for bringing a dead bird into the house.
“Right,” he tried to recover. “I just thought maybe you’d want to keep them up here so no one takes them.”
You sighed heavily as you quickly took the candy from him, no lingering graze of your hands like you’d done so many times before the night had taken this turn for the worse.
“Okay,” he exhales. “I didn’t come up here to give you the candy.”
“What did you come up here for then?” You huffed.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he admitted.
You turned from him, exasperated, and set the candy on the vanity across the room. He was tempted to follow you through the door frame, but he had the keen sense that he shouldn't push it, so he froze, feet inches from the threshold but not going over.
“And why wouldn’t I be okay?” You questioned, your back turned to him as you pulled a set of pajamas out of the top drawer, he swallowed any hope of seeing you change into them, knowing it was a delusional thought.
“Because of what Kelce said,” He brought his thumbnail up to his eyebrow, scratching a non-existent itch, desperate for something to do with his hands.
You turned quickly on your heel to face him, hands on your hips. The sudden shift in your features, from indifference to indignance, made him take a step back.
“What, did he say something?” You pressed.
“About how you, y’know used to-” 
“Rafe, I’m fine,” you cut him off, rubbing the backs of your hands across your cheeks to get some of the smeared makeup off.
Even though you always knew deep in your gut that he knew how you used to feel about him, the thought of him actually saying it out loud as you stood in front of him with tear stained cheeks was unbearable to you.
“But you’re crying,” he uttered, eyebrows bunched in concern. “I don’t want you to be alone, crying in your room all night.”
You stepped closer to him, and his heart leapt. Maybe you would invite him in, let him hold you until you felt better. But then, as quickly as it had risen, his heart fell again. You placed your hand on the door handle and glared at him.
“It wouldn’t be the first time.”
With a definitive click, you closed the door in his face.
⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂
The patter of thick rain drops against your window is what finally roused you from your long sleep. You’d fallen asleep crying into your pillow, an old hobby you hadn’t practiced in years. The light coming through the window was dim, making you assume it was early morning, but when you checked your phone your eyes went wide at the time: 12:04pm.
You swung your legs over the bed with a groan, rising to look out the window. The sky was dark and angry, high waves foaming and crashing in the distance, a storm raging. The rain was so heavy the window was straining to keep it out.
When you opened your bedroom door, you nearly stepped on the tray of food that was sitting outside it. You leaned down and picked up the tray of scrambled eggs, toast and orange juice, smiling at the little note in your sister’s handwriting: “I’m so glad you’re here, we’re downstairs when you’re ready.” She signed it with a little heart.
After eating the breakfast in your bed, you steeled yourself to finally make your appearance downstairs. You were grateful that everyone had let you sleep in, but wondered if the delay in coming downstairs would only remind them of the dramatic way your night ended.
You placed your dishes in the kitchen sink, looking out at the backyard you’d fled so abruptly the night before. It was quite a different scene than the one you’d left, the pouring rain filling the porch with puddles, chairs strewn about from the heavy wind. You let last night play through your mind like a movie; Carter revealing your most scandalous moment during never have I ever, Tom’s big arms on either side of you as he flirted, Rafe’s hands in yours as you celebrated your beer pong dominance, Kelce’s words bringing all your fun to a screeching halt.
“No! Don’t shoot!” 
Yells from the large den adjacent to the kitchen pulled you from your thoughts. You padded quickly into the room to find the source of the commotion.
“That guy was on our team!” Kelce yelled again, ripping a video game controller from Maddie’s hands.
Maddie just laughed at his frustration, “well I didn’t like him so I killed him.”
“That’s not how the game works, Mads,” Kelce scolded.
“Well that’s how I play,” she shrugged, leaning back on the couch.
Several people were piled onto the oversized sectional sofa. Carter was sitting up on the cushion with her legs criss-crossed, Topper on the floor in front of her while she put little braids in his hair. Tom and Kelce sat on the other side of Maddie, eyes locked on the small TV screen as their fingers rapidly tapped on the controller buttons, deeply invested in the game.
In the far corner sat Rafe, reading something on his phone with a concerned look on his face.
“Love the hair, Topper,” you said from behind the couch. 
Everyone’s eyes shot to you, except for Rafe, who stayed caught up in whatever was on his screen. You found his indifference to your arrival annoying, but also intriguing, wondering what had captured his attention so fully.
“You’re up!” Carter exclaimed, accidentally pulling Topper’s hair as she turned to you, making him wince.
“I’ve been up for a while, just needed some quiet time,” you smiled at her. “Thank you for breakfast.”
“Actually, that was all Kelce,” she informed you with a knowing smirk.
“Oh really?” You said, raising your eyebrows at Kelce.
He paused the video game and stood from the couch.
“Wait!” Kelce said. “I have one more thing!”
He ran out of the room and you looked back at Carter with a smirk.
“You better not let him off the hook too easily,” Carter encouraged you.
“Don’t worry, I plan to mess with him a little,” you smiled at her conspiratorially. “Everyone just act cool.”
They all nodded at you, shifting when Kelce re-entered the room. Their attempted acting skills were adorably terrible, pretending to ignore you and Kelce, suddenly very invested in their own hands and the stains on the couch. All but Rafe, who seemed genuinely disinterested in the whole thing, eyes still glued to his phone.
Kelce approached you with his hands behind his back, looking bashful. He revealed his present with a proud flair.
It was a bouquet of wilting flowers, and a couple of weeds, he had clearly pulled from the front yard. You smiled at the sad, but sweet, present.
“I picked them this morning,” he said proudly.
You didn’t take them from him just yet, tightening your lips to hide your smile so he’d think you were still mad at him.
“I’m sorry for being a dick,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said that thing about-”
“It’s okay Kelce,” you cut him off before he could elaborate further. “What you said…you were right.”
These words finally pulled Rafe from his phone, head snapping towards you in surprise. The rest of the group struggled to maintain their little charade of indifference, the air in the room shifting as they all silently met eyes, wondering where you were going with this.
“I did stay at those parties for a boy,” you admitted to Kelce.
Carter coughed to disguise a laugh, figuring out your game before anyone else.
“You did?” Kelce asked. 
You stepped closer to him, placing your hand on his arm. His eyes widened and he swallowed heavily.
“For you Kelce,” you whispered. “It’s always been you.”
Topper, Maddie, and Tom seemed to finally catch up with your plan as they tried to stifle their own laughter. Kelce had exactly the dumbstruck reaction you were hoping for, looking alarmed, stammering for words like an idiot.
“Me? You liked me?” He croaked, almost too stunned to speak.
You couldn’t hold it back any longer, his face looked so pathetically shocked you had to laugh. As soon as you cracked a smile, the group took it as a sign they could laugh now too, breaking into a round of giggles at Kelce’s expense. Even Rafe was smirking, looking back to his phone, but not before letting out a soft chuckle.
Kelce looked around helplessly, catching on painfully slowly.
“C’mon man,” he said when it finally dawned on him that you were kidding. “You really had me going there, I'm not gonna lie.”
You took the flowers from him finally, patting his cheek reassuringly.
“I can’t stay mad at you, Kelcey,” you reassured him.
“You forgive me then?” He asked hopefully.
“As long as you promise never to play beer pong again,” you countered, handing him back the flowers. “And you go put these back outside, there’s bugs in them.”
He took the bouquet from you with a dutiful nod and made his way to the front door.
“You gonna forgive Sabrina, too?” Carter questioned.
“No,” you scoffed, settling on the couch next to her. “She can rot.”
“You’re fun,” Maddie giggled. “Who knew you were so fun?”
I did, Rafe thought.
“I did,” Carter said.
The wind kicked up outside the tall windows, a loud clap of thunder causing you to jump in your seat.
“Y’all think I’m gonna be able to work on my tan today?” Tom quipped, an attempt to ease your nerves.
“I don’t think you need it,” you flirted with him, admiring the dimples in his cheeks as he smiled back at you.
Rafe shifted uncomfortably in his seat, finally putting his phone down and sticking it in his pocket.
“What are we gonna do today, though?” Maddie asked.
“I think you’re looking at it,” Topper spread his arms to gesture to the room.
“Good thing you’re so good at this game,” Kelce teased her, re-entering the room and jumping over the couch, making Carter bounce and lose her grip on the braid she had been carefully sowing into Topper’s hair.
“Dammit, Kelce!” She scolded. “We’ve been stuck inside for half a day and I’m already annoyed with you.”
“We could go see a movie,” you suggested hopefully, the idea of a calm afternoon in a dark theater with a big bucket of popcorn exciting you.
“No can do,” Topper explained. “The road is closed because of the flooding, we’re stuck here for the day. Jack and Sabrina went out for breakfast and they can’t even get back into the neighborhood.”
“Oh, okay” you frowned, bummed that your plan was foiled, but not that Sabrina had struck such bad luck.
Rafe didn’t miss the way your lips curved down with disappointment. 
After leaving your room last night, he’d stayed awake for hours, staring at the unfinished basement ceiling trying desperately to think of a way to get back in your good graces. The finality with which you’d shut your door on him made his stomach churn, wondering if he’d finally messed things up with you for good. But it was only your third day here, and he was a gamer; he didn’t quit and he didn’t lose. He decided he would take any opening he could get, and this seemed like a good place to start.
“We could watch a movie here,” he recommended. “We’ll make some popcorn and have our own theater.”
You looked at him for the first time since last night, surprised he was speaking to you, and even more surprised he was being so positive and helpful.
“Can we do it right now? I hate this game,” Maddie complained.
“I’d be down,” Tom agreed.
“Oh, uh,” Rafe sat up, catching Topper’s eye. “I have that thing I gotta do.”
Topper nodded knowingly, “yeah, we should wait until it gets dark anyway,” he agreed, giving Rafe an out.
You were dying to know what they were referring to, what possible responsibility could be tying Rafe down when he’d be stuck in a vacation home all day, but you feigned disinterest. 
It was decided, you’d all meet back here at dusk for your movie night. You had the perfect excuse to finally get some alone time, assuring Carter you were fine before going back to your room, slipping under the cool covers with a smile and pulling out the book you still hadn’t had time to start.
It was such a pleasant afternoon until the plot of your book started to feel a little too familiar for your comfort.  A love triangle between the shy, bookworm protagonist, a sweet, unassuming brunette, and a complicated, brooding blond. You finally shut the book about a hundred pages in, when the blond character, who was continuously breaking the protagonist’s heart, stood her up for a date. You sighed and threw the book back into your suitcase, adding it to your DNF list on Goodreads.
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Carter was sitting on the counter, swinging her legs happily as Topper stood at the stove and added spices to the soup he was making. You stood at the bottom of the stairs for a minute, watching them as long as you could before they noticed your presence. It was a rare moment of calm between them, no arguments or teasing. Topper blew on a spoonful of his soup before lifting it to Carter’s lips. She smiled at him affectionately as he thumbed the corner of her mouth, catching the little drop of soup that had spilled off the spoon.
Your heart warmed at your sister’s smile. She was not a relationship girl, or so she always swore. But you knew her feelings for Topper went far beyond a penchant for messing with him. You were struck with sadness that she would be leaving so soon, studying abroad in the UK to get her masters. Maybe you should’ve spent the afternoon with her, instead of a book you hated.
The door to the basement creaked open, and Rafe stepped out, looking grumpy as he unknowingly interrupted the sweet moment in the kitchen. 
Carter leaned away from Topper when she noticed Rafe, and finally saw you. You spotted the way Topper’s face fell a little as she pulled away.
“Needs salt,” she teased him.
“Yes chef,” he smiled back, though there was a hint of resentment in his tone.
Carter hopped down off the counter and walked over to you, wrapping her arm around you like you hadn’t seen each other in years. You squeezed her affectionately, hoping she could feel the love you had for her in your touch.
She pulled away, eyeing Rafe. He had bags under his eyes and he looked worn out.
“Where have you been all day?” Carter asked him.
“Just had to take care of a few things,” he ran his hands through his hair, which it appeared he had been doing a lot based on the way it was sticking up at different angles. 
As he brought his hands back to his side, you caught a quick glimpse of the pen ink that was smeared on his fingers, only adding to the mystery of what “things” he was taking care of.
You were going to teasingly ask him if he was down there writing the great American novel, but before you could, the large french doors that lead to the den swung open dramatically, Tom standing behind them with a big grin on his face.
“All ready!” He announced it to the group.
“What’s ready?” You asked, an amused smirk at his theatrics.
“Come see for yourself,” he winked at you.
You followed him curiously into the den, the rest of the group trailing behind. Your jaw dropped when you took it all in. He had transformed the big den, setting up a large projector and screen, stringing little fairy lights from the ceiling and filling the side tables with popcorn, candy, and a variety of snacks. The room even smelled good, Tom having lit some candles, and with the rain still coming down outside, the cozy vibes were off the charts.
“You did all this?” You gushed.
“Well you seemed bummed that we couldn’t go to the theater,” Tom remarked. “So I brought the theater to you!”
Thinking that might just be the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to you, you gave Tom a big, grateful smile. Rafe muttered words under his breath that you couldn’t quite make out but sounded something like “you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”
“Woah, where’d you find the projector?” Kelce asked.
“They said it was in the attic,” Tom pointed out. “On the Airbnb listing.”
You didn’t understand why, but something about Tom being the only one to actually read the whole listing and pay attention to the details was attractive. You suddenly wished there weren’t five other people in the room with you and him.
“The only thing I haven’t done is pick the movie,” Tom admitted.
The group started chattering all at once, throwing out suggestions and arguing over each other’s taste in movies. After a few chaotic moments, Tom mentioned the name of a horror movie that had come out recently, and while the rest of the room chimed in with “ohhh yes” and “I’ve wanted to see that one,” your stomach dropped. You hated scary movies, you always had. Since you were a kid, you felt anything you watched or read very deeply, so when a movie was dark, it affected you emotionally.
Feeling helpless, your eyes inadvertently met Rafe’s. He immediately picked up on the way you were chewing your lip, afraid to protest to what everyone else clearly wanted. 
Shit that’s right, he thought, she hates scary movies. 
Plus, he knew you’d be teased for saying something, this group was fun but they weren’t known for their sensitivity. Your eyes dropped to the floor in acceptance, all of your excitement over the home theater fading as you settled in for an unpleasant evening. Rafe hated the way you were forced to resign to being unhappy for everyone else’s sake.
“Nah, I don’t fuck with horror movies,” he blurted out impulsively.
All eyes shot to him, most people laughing in assumption he was making a joke. When he didn’t laugh back, but clenched his jaw and stared them down, they fell silent.
“Bro, since when?” Topper asked hesitantly.
“Since forever,” Rafe doubled down.
“You scared, Cameron?” Kelce teased.
“So what if I am?” Rafe bit back, daring him to keep going.
“Hey man, that’s cool,” Tom assured him. “It’s not for everybody. We can just watch something else.”
It was like your heart was strung up with the fairy lights above you, Rafe and Tom grabbing either end of the cord and playing tug-of-war. Just when Tom did something so sweet you thought you might kiss him right here in front of everyone, Rafe jumped in to rescue you from ridicule, proving he remembered intimate details about you in the process, making your heart ache for him. Then Tom said something kind, and you were right back where you started. This wasn’t getting any easier.
Rafe could see the way your eyes flicked between him and Tom, he knew he needed to step it up even more. He rounded the couch and approached Tom’s laptop, which was plugged into the projector. He typed something into the streaming site that was pulled up and the projector whirred to life, the screen illuminating the room as the opening credits of a movie began.
It was your favorite movie of all time. Your heart swelled at the opening song that you’d know anywhere, this having been your comfort film since you were a kid. Rafe stared right at you as the rest of the group settled on the couch, no one wanting to argue with his choice. Your eyes went soft as you looked back at him, mouthing a silent thank you, just like you had done by the fire last night. You were astonished that he remembered how much you loved this movie.
“Perfect, I love this movie!” Tom exclaimed, pulling your gaze from Rafe.
Of course he does, you thought tenderly, your crush on Tom intensifying.
Of course he does, Rafe thought resentfully, his vexation with Tom boiling his blood.
As everyone took their seats, you hung back for a moment, taking in the whole scene and trying to clear your head. By the time your feet caught up with your brain, there was only one spot left on the big couch.
Carter and Topper settled in on the chaise, shamelessly cuddling up almost immediately. Kelce and Maddie sat next to them, sharing a bowl of popcorn. Then it was Tom, an empty spot, and Rafe. You considered sitting on the floor.
Standing between them, both boys looked up at you expectantly, shifting away from each other to make more space for you, both hopeful you’d sit a little closer to them than the other. You thought of the protagonist from the book you were reading, wishing you could take her out for a drink. 
Finally, you took your seat, crossing your legs and placing your hands in your lap. You turned and looked at Carter, who was smiling back at you sympathetically. She looked like she was about to get up from the comfort of Topper’s arms, but you didn’t want to interrupt their time together, so you waved her off and settled back on the couch to prove you were fine.
The movie began, roaring through the speakers Tom had set up, and you were quickly distracted by the familiar sights and sounds of your favorite film.
Rafe’s eyes flicked over to you every so often, melting at the cute way you were mouthing the lines along with the actors, laughing at funny scenes even though you’d seen them a million times. He was trying to respect your space, but eventually he needed to stretch out his long legs, spreading them so his knee was almost knocking into yours. He wouldn’t touch you though, no matter how much he wanted to. It seemed maybe he had almost secured your forgiveness and he wasn’t about to push his luck.
Tom wasn’t in such a difficult position though, his arm fearlessly brushing against yours as he reached for a bowl of popcorn and offered you some.
“Thank you,” you said sweetly.
“Do you like this movie?” He whispered, leaning in a bit too close for Rafe’s comfort.
“It’s my all-time favorite,” you told him.
“I’m glad we picked it then.”
We? Rafe seethed. This whole movie night was his idea in the first place, and once again, here was Casanova sweeping in and stealing away your attention. 
Rafe thought he couldn’t hate him more, and then Tom put his arm around you.
Anything, he would’ve given anything, done anything, to hear you tell Tom to fuck off. But you didn’t. You blushed and shifted a bit, nestling into Tom’s side and tucking your legs under you. 
Your feet, covered in pink fuzzy socks, were just inches from Rafe’s leg, tormenting him. They nudged him every so often when you laughed at the film or leaned in to whisper something to Tom. He got excited for just a moment the first time you touched him, but his heart cracked when it dawned on him that while you were touching him by accident, you were touching Tom on purpose.
Even though he was tempted to storm out, your obvious rejection of him nearly unbearable, he forced himself to play it cool and stay through to the end credits. 
The screen faded to black, and everyone stirred and stretched. You sat up from Tom’s side and looked over to your sister, surprised she hadn’t pulled out her phone and texted you something cheeky about him during the movie, but quickly realized it was because she had fallen asleep. Her hair was messy in her face as little snores escaped her lips. The only person looking at her with more affection than you was Topper, who scooped her up in his arms with ease and a peck on the cheek, and carried her to bed.
“Okay, so that was the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” Maddie said as she and Kelce followed them out of the room.
Rafe sighed as he saw the mess that had been left behind, kneeling down to sweep up the popcorn Kelce had spilled on the floor. He felt the small window of hope that he’d somehow reconnect with you today close as you exited the room.
Feeling just as tired as Carter looked and eager to crawl into bed, you made your way toward the stairs. Tom caught up with you before you took the first step, saying your name softly to get your attention.
“I had a really good time with you tonight,” he said when you turned.
“Me too,” you told him, blushing bashfully. “Though I don’t think anyone had quite as good a time as Carter.”
“You’re probably right.” He had gotten closer, leaning towards you as he said it, close enough that you could feel his breath on your skin, “the night’s not over yet, though.”
Heat swept across your cheeks and down your back as your whole body blushed. You had really enjoyed your time on the couch snuggled up next to him, but you were a notoriously slow mover when it came to new guys. You thought you might kiss him goodbye at the end of the week, maybe get his number, but that was as far as your imagination had wandered. You’d hooked up with guys at school, and you were certainly more confident with every year that passed, but you had accepted about yourself that you would always be a little slower than other girls, and that was okay with you.
“It’s not?” You asked, hating the shaky nervousness in your voice.
“Maybe I could carry you up to your room, too,” he propositioned.
With that suggestion, he leaned in to kiss you. Your whole body went numb and a nervous hum escaped your throat. You flinched slightly right before his lips met yours, signaling him to pause.
“Sorry,” you mumbled as he pulled back.
“Is something wrong?” He asked, brows furrowed.
“It’s just, a little fast,” you explained. “I’m really enjoying getting to know you, though. I tend to move slow.”
“We don’t have to do anything,” he continued. “Maybe I could just crash in your room? I’m sharing with Kelce and he snores.”
“The couch is pretty comfortable, you could sleep there,” you stepped away from him a bit, voice firmer. 
“Ah, but that’s not as fun,” he flirted again, not letting up. 
“It’s not gonna happen tonight,” you told him definitively. “We can definitely hang out tomorrow, though.”
He eyed you for a second, and your skin crawled with the feeling you were being studied.
“Sure,” he muttered, the softness you usually saw in his eyes was nowhere to be found. “Night.”
As he shuffled up the stairs without another glance to you, you saw that Rafe had been standing in the doorway of the den, for how long you weren’t sure. His hands were full of dirty dishes as he eyed you anxiously.
“All good?” He questioned.
You wanted to put up a front, make a joke to wipe the protective, caring look off of Rafe’s face, but your spirit was a bit shaken, and if you were being honest, you were just glad not to be alone. 
Instead of answering, you reached out, took some of the dishes from his hands and walked them to the kitchen sink. Your wordlessness was an indication that you didn’t want to talk about it any further, so he didn’t push.
Rafe washed and you dried, completely silent as you did the dishes together. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, though, just an understanding between you that nothing more needed to be said tonight. You were immensely grateful to have something to do with your hands, a task to focus on as you recovered from the upsetting interaction you’d had with Tom.
Once Rafe handed you the last bowl, he bid you goodnight quietly and descended the stairs to his room. You dried the bowl and reached it toward the high cabinet it belonged in, but nearly dropped when you heard a loud “fuck!” come from the basement.
You set the dish down carefully before hurrying down the stairs towards the sound of Rafe’s distress.
“What’s wrong?” You asked breathlessly as you descended the creaking steps.
Rafe stepped back to show you the cause of his outcry. Sometime in the evening a leak had sprung from the edge of the basement ceiling, running down the wall and right onto his bed. The rain had stopped about an hour ago, and though it didn’t appear the water was flowing in anymore, the damage was done.
“Fuck,” you echoed him.
Rafe moved his luggage and backpack to the stairs to get them off the ground, and pulled the bed away from the wall.
“I’ll just sleep with my head on the other end of the bed,” he sighed.
“Rafe, you can’t sleep down here,” you countered. “I found some extra blankets and pillows in my closet, I’ll get them for you and you can crash on the couch.”
He nodded in agreement, “thanks.”
Rafe followed you up to your room, stopping at the threshold of your door, just like he had last night. You smiled to yourself at the respectfulness of the action. Though it proved to be unsustainable when you slid open your closet door and tried to get the blanket and pillow stored on the top shelf, unable to reach it even when you jumped.
“Can you help me?” You sighed, indirectly inviting him in. 
Rafe smirked as he approached, barely having to stretch to reach the bedding. Your throat bobbed as you watched him, his frame so long and lean it towered over you. 
“Thanks for these,” he looked down at you, holding the pillow and blanket to his chest with crossed arms.
“Least I could do,” you smiled. “After you saved me again.”
Rafe furrowed his brows quizzically.
“You hate horror movies, huh?” You quirked your eyebrows.
“Oh,” he mumbled, realization sweeping across his face. “No. But you do.”
“And you just really wanted to watch that particular movie instead?”
“No. But you did.”
The room suddenly felt too hot, as you bantered, your voices dropped lower, and so did Rafe’s eyes, landing on your lips. 
Not sure you could stand this close to him much longer without making a decision you might regret, you stepped away and over to your vanity. You unclasped your necklace and started removing your rings, preparing to begin your nighttime routine. You caught Rafe’s eyes in the mirror as he watched you take your hair out of its ponytail, letting it fall around your face in a soft curtain.
Rafe cleared his throat and looked down, digging his foot into your rug. You swore you caught a blush kiss the apples of his cheeks.
 “Well what are you doin’ right now? Wanna hang out?” He croaked.
You smiled at his desperate attempt to keep the conversation going. It was reminiscent of the way you used to search your mind for more questions to ask to keep him on the phone, or pretend you needed to run errands so he’d be in your car longer. Now, here he was, looking at you with big, hopeful eyes, completely desperate. The power shift was electrifying, a newfound dominance rushed through you. You had him right where you wanted, and you couldn’t help but milk it. 
“I’m feeling pretty tired.” You turned to him and faked a yawn, stretching your arms up, the bottom of your t-shirt rising to reveal just a sliver of skin, his eyes catching it immediately. “I think I’m just gonna get ready for bed now.”
He stood across the dimly lit room, every muscle in his body fighting against his attempt to stay in place. You held back a smug smile when you saw he was actually making tight fists to keep from reaching his hands toward you.
This would be all he would ever get, he thought. Just these little moments when his eyes caught slivers of your perfect skin. The tops of your sun kissed shoulders in your swimsuit. The brief hint of a dimple on your lower back when you bent to get a beer from the cooler. The curve of your hips in the tight jeans you wore today.
If this was all he’d get, that would be okay. He’d collect the memories of these moments like rare coins, only to be pulled out on special occasions. If these teases of what it might be like to be with you for real were all you’d ever give him, he’d make do. 
And just as he made himself that promise, you reached down and pulled at the hem of your shirt, lifting it over your head in one motion, tossing it to the floor. 
You were wearing a black bra with a little white bow right where the cups met between your breasts, and he could see the top of your black lace panties barely peeking out of the waistband of your jeans. 
Rafe’s face flushed and his shoulders tensed as he looked you up and down, eyes wide with surprise at how bold you were being. His large body cast a long shadow on the wall, but something about the desperation on his face made him seem so small, so vulnerable. The rush of power felt unbelievable and you wondered how far you could push him before he snapped.
Without breaking the heated eye contact between you, you slowly unbuttoned your jeans and dipped your thumbs under the waistband, pulling them down and over your feet.
“Wh-What are you doing?” Rafe finally choked out, unable to stay silent any longer.
“I’m getting ready for bed,” you shrugged innocently. “And you’re getting ready to leave.”
Your words were pushing him out, but your actions were freezing him in place. He had no idea what you really wanted from him, but he knew exactly what he wanted from you.
Before he could ask if you really wanted him to leave, you pulled back the covers of your bed and climbed in. Once under the sheets, the white linen covering you up to your shoulders, you shuffled a bit, making the blanket rustle with your movement. His brows furrowed in confusion, unsure what you were doing now. Then, your hand reached back out from under the covers and dropped your bra to the floor. More shuffling, and your panties followed, now only the plush duvet and silky sheets stood between Rafe and your completely bare body. Rafe cleared his throat as he felt himself straining against his board shorts.
You propped yourself up on your elbows, the blankets sliding slightly, stopping right before exposing your chest to him. He swallowed hard.
You looked at him, your face unassuming, like this was the most normal thing in the world. The way you were looking at him, he knew he would do anything you told him to, even if that meant you really were asking him to leave. He prayed to whatever god made the perfect creature in front of him that you’d ask him to stay. But you didn’t.
“Hit the lights on your way out?” You said, before laying back and letting your hair fan out over the pillows. You closed your eyes and moaned softly as you sunk into the plush bed.
He bit his lip as he watched you get comfortable, his heart pounding so hard he was sure you could hear it.
“Rafe?” you whispered, eyes still closed.
“Y-yeah?” He stammered.
“Goodnight,” you smiled, putting an end to any hope he had for an invitation to join you in the California King.
He sighed in defeat, “goodnight.”
With that, he walked toward the door, giving himself one last look at you, angelic and at peace in your pre-sleep. He hit the light switch and pulled the door closed softly behind him.
Rafe leaned against the door, one hand over his chest to feel his spiked heart rate, and one still clutching the door handle, unable to fully let go of it, of you. He felt lightheaded, the realization of how badly he wanted you washing over him, leaving him breathless. Why had he been such a dumbass in high school? He thought ruefully of that day senior year. If he had done just one thing differently, maybe he would be in bed next to you right now.
The thought of pulling your soft body into his, holding you under those cool sheets, nuzzling his head into your hair and inhaling the scent of you until you both fall into blissful sleep…he couldn’t remember ever wanting anything as bad as that. His want, his need, for you was too much to bear. 
He couldn’t bring himself to walk downstairs, and as much as he was dying to, he couldn't bring himself to go back into the room and risk your true rejection. As he toiled over his lack of choices, he sank to the floor, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He knew it was pathetic, sitting outside your door like a stray cat. He told himself he’d sit here for just five more minutes, enough time to collect his dignity.
He fell asleep on the floor thinking about the way your hair smells.
(chapter 5: part one)
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a/n: thank you thank you thank you thank you for the support on this story! thank you to this anon for the move night idea which really helped solve some plot issues I was having I appreciate you!! in the original draft of this chapter, Tom suggested they watch Hellraiser 2022...is that too meta?
please note, the taglist for this series is currently closed. For updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs 💕
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zaczenemiji · 6 months ago
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Hi I hope you are having a lovely day my dear ♥. I was wondering if you could do a Kenji Sato x reader where the reader is an assistant manager to him and one day he like acts arrogantly towards her during one of his interviews when he sees a pretty journalist amongst the crowed of ppl interviewing him and he says some hurtful things to reader and collectively ignoring her and instead choosing to focus on the journalists girl. Ever since that day reader has been silent around Sato and he thought he didn't care but it bothered him because even though she is usually quite, these days she is *too* quite and then there is like a mini celebration for like a baseball game win and reader goes with a guy who is like an athlete but is not as famous as Sato. So the kicker is reader is absolutely DROP DEAD GORGEOUS and ppl at the party even think she is a model. So Sato get jealous and he acts all possessive and protective of her , while she is still angry at him but eventually he makes it up to her over time. If you have anything else to add please do.
Shattered Pride
Kenji Sato x AssistantManager!Reader
Word Count: 1,873
Genre/Warnings: Character Development, Eventual Romance, Forgiveness, Jealousy, Regret, Redemption
Author’s Note: The idea behind this was just fantastic! Thank you so much for the request, writing this was my honor.
MASTERLIST
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Being Kenji Sato’s assistant manager is not an easy task. I repeat: Not. An. Easy. Task. Throughout his baseball career, he has had several assistants who quit as soon as they were hired because, for one thing, Kenji is stubborn.
Ghosted interviews, off-topic answers, and insults to other players were just some of the many things about him that gave you a headache.
You remember being referred to him by his last assistant saying that it was a high-paying job. However, you were skeptical at how quickly and willing they were to give off their job to another person.
You understood why the first time you met him. After the meeting, you asked him, “Is there anything else you need from me today?”
In response, he gave an irritated sigh. “If I needed something, I would have asked.”
Thankfully, you were more on the nonchalant scale, and how people respond to you didn’t bother you much. You were here to do your job—and excellently at that, not exactly to be friends with an arrogant baseball star.
Kenji’s behavior was… challenging, that’s the best word for it. He barked orders, rarely said thank you, and seemed to take your presence for granted. But in conditions like these, you thrive the most; you succeed where others have failed.
Today was a usual day with the usual crowd of journalists and fans gathering in the conference room. You stood by his side, ensuring everything was in order for yet another post-game interview.
It was going all smooth and well when Kenji suddenly paused mid-sentence. It was a very short pause that wouldn’t be noticeable to others but you, with all the time you spent as his assistant, noticed it.
Your eyes looked in the direction he kept glancing at. A girl, of course, strikingly beautiful with long sleek back hair that cascaded down in soft waves.
When it was her turn to ask, Kenji leaned forward to give her a dazzling smile. “Why don’t you ask me a question?” he said, ignoring the list of pre-approved questions you handed him before the interview started.
Kenji was holding court with this journalist longer than he should. You noticed that the others in line were starting to murmur in annoyance.
You stepped forward, maintaining your professional demeanor. “Excuse me, Mr. Sato, but we need to move on,” you said. “Other journalists are waiting for their turn.”
“I’m not done here,” he said arrogantly, not bothering to look your way.
You took a deep breath, wanting to handle this situation diplomatically. “I understand,” you said. “But we’ve exceeded the time limit, and it’s only fair to give everyone a chance.”
Whichever agency’s plan was it to send her here to get ahead of other journalists, it’s working. She gave you a polite smile, clearly enjoying the extra attention.
Kenji frowned and turned to you. “Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something important?” He asked. “If you can’t manage your job properly, maybe you should reconsider.”
Your eyes widened. You could feel others’ on you, their stares almost cutting through your professional facade.
Swallowing your pride, you nodded and stepped back, keeping your expression neutral. But as neutral as you looked, deep down you felt a mix of anger and humiliation.
From that day on, you remained silent around Kenji, only speaking when necessary. You remained professional though, and you made sure that your job was not compromised.
During meetings, you no longer offered insights unless directly asked. When you did speak, your tone was strictly professional. Well, it has always been, but the warmth that characterized your interactions was now gone.
Like that one time during a team strategy meeting. Kenji asked for input on a new play. The room fell silent as everyone waited for your usual insightful suggestions, but you simply looked down at your notes, saying nothing.
The coach glanced at you, surprised. "Any thoughts, (y/n)?" You shook your head. "No, Coach. Nothing to add."
At first, Kenji was oblivious to all of this. He was absorbed in his own world and the adulation of his fans, as always. But as the days turned into weeks, your silence grew too loud to ignore that even he finally noticed it.
A month later, the team planned on celebrating a recent major win. This time, they have decided to invite other athletes as guests of honor. The organizers wanted to have a mix of established stars and up-and-coming talents from the sports world.
You decided to take this as an opportunity to have yourself pampered. You have been working hard, after all. Despite the obvious tension between you and Kenji, you were still able to do your job well.
That’s why at the party, you were stunning. Drop dead gorgeous, as the team said. Though the lights were dim, it seemed as if a spotlight was following you as everyone you passed by turned their heads to look.
You decided to settle by the bar for drinks. “Hey there,” came a familiar voice. You turned to see Jake approaching. He was one of the promising young athletes and a rising star in the sports world who was invited to this party.
He plays as a forward for a popular soccer team and has recently garnered attention for his impressive performance in the league. This wasn’t the first time you met as Jake and Kenji ran into each other a couple times before at different events.
He leaned against the bar, signaling the bartender for a drink. “It’s nice to see you again and this time, enjoying yourself,” he said. “You looked like you needed a break at the last event we were at.”
You chuckled softly, appreciating his observation. "Yeah, it's been a bit hectic lately."
Jake's drink arrived, and he took a sip, his eyes studying you with genuine interest. “Well, you look incredible tonight,” he said. “Have you been hearing what the others are saying?”
Jake turned to glance at the crowd, then back at you. “They were all asking if you were a model or something,” he said. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think the same.”
“Thanks, Jake,” you replied, smiling. “You clean up pretty well yourself."
He laughed, a warm, infectious sound that put you at ease. "So, how's work been treating you? Still managing the chaos that is Kenji Sato?"
You hesitated, the memory of Kenji's recent behavior still fresh. "It's been… challenging," you admitted. "But I manage."
Jake's expression softened with understanding. "I can imagine. He's got a reputation for being difficult."
Unbeknownst to both of you, the baseball star you were talking about has finally arrived. His presence commanded attention as he navigated through the crowd, exchanging greetings and handshakes.
As he made his way deeper into the club, his eyes caught sight of you. At that moment he froze. Or was it time that froze? He didn’t know. All he was sure of was that for a little while, he couldn’t breathe.
You were stunning. Your outfit, a sleek, form-fitting dress that accentuated your every curve, made you look like you had just stepped off a runway. Your hair was styled to perfection, your makeup highlighting your natural beauty.
Suddenly, he noticed the man you were talking to, Jake. “That rookie soccer player,” he thought. Gosh, you deserved so much better. At that moment, with firm resolve, he declared upon himself that he would work to be the better that you deserved.
Kenjl's jaw clenched as his own possessive instincts flared up, a mix of jealousy and protectiveness surging through him. He made his way over to you, his eyes never leaving your form.
On your end, you noticed the crowd parted slightly, and you saw Kenji making his way towards you.
Turning slightly, you met Kenji’s gaze with a cool, indifferent look. "Kenji," you acknowledged, your tone polite but distant.
"Can I talk to you for a moment?" he asked, his voice tight with barely restrained emotion.
Jake looked at you, his gaze asking if you were fine with it. You smiled at him, a genuine and warm expression, something you haven’t given Kenji in a while. “I’ll go on ahead,” you told Jake. “See you around.”
Kenji led you away from the crowd, finding a quieter corner of the club. As soon as you were out of earshot, he turned to you, his eyes dark with jealousy.
"Why didn't you come with me?" Kenji asked, his frustration evident.
You scoffed. “First of all, you didn’t ask me to.” You crossed your arms, fixing him with a hard stare. "And you made it very clear where I stand with you. Or rather, where I don't."
He winced, the memory of his hurtful words coming back to haunt him. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice softer now. "I was wrong. I was an idiot."
You remained silent, waiting for him to continue.
“I've been a jerk, and I know it,” he continued. “I was arrogant, dismissive, and I took you for granted.”
You watch him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. Yet you looked away, the hurt still fresh. "You hurt me, Kenji,” you said. “You made me feel worthless and unimportant."
Kenji steps closer, his voice filled with regret. “I know, I'm so sorry. I was so focused on myself, on my career, that I didn't see how much I was hurting you. Your silence has been killing me. I miss your insights, your presence.”
He paused for a while before continuing. “I miss you.” He reaches out, gently taking your hand.
“You're more than just my assistant,” he said. “You're the reason I can do what I do. You make everything better, and I've been too blind to see it. Please, give me a chance to make it right. I want to earn back your trust.”
You met his gaze, searching for any sign of insincerity. All you saw was genuine regret and a longing to make things right. "This isn't something that can be fixed overnight, Kenji."
"I know," he said quickly. "I'll do whatever it takes, for as long as it takes. I just... I can't lose you."
You took a deep breath, the weight of his words sinking in. "We'll see," you said. "But it won't be easy."
He nodded, relief flooding his features. "I understand,” he said. “Thank you, (y/n)—for giving me a chance.”
As you walked back to the party, Kenji stayed close by your side, protective and possessive. arm subtly wrapped around your waist, a clear signal to everyone around that you were with him.
As the night came to an end, Kenji offered to drive you home. To which, you agreed. The drive home was quiet, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything else, it was rather hopeful.
One evening, after a particularly grueling day, Kenji found you alone in the office. “Hey," he said softly, "I was thinking we could grab dinner. Just the two of us."
You looked up, surprised. "Dinner?"
He nodded, a hopeful smile on his face. "Yeah. To thank you for everything. And to make up for being such an idiot."
You smiled at him for a moment before nodding. "Okay. Dinner sounds nice."
Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots
@eternallyvenus @puppyminnnie
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suguann · 4 months ago
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✎. you've been on the run for a while. you knew someone would come eventually—but not him.
tags. fem!reader, old west era, bounty hunter simon, size difference, size kink, implied the reader's husband is a terrible human, accidental voyeurism, period-typical sexism, masturbation [18+ only]
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You’ve been running for months, first from your husband (the phantom grip of his hand still sending an ache through your wrist) and now as a wanted conwoman for stealing the clothes from an unsuspecting cowpoke who thought he was getting lucky. You can only imagine what Mama would say about trading your ruffled skirts for grass-stained trousers and boiled-leather suspenders.
(It’s unbecoming of a respectable woman, dear. Uncouth.)
She’d probably have a lot to say if she knew everything you’ve done to survive.
You hop from one place to the next only by the mere chance someone was willing to let a helpless woman accompany them on their travels. Nearly a month has passed since being stranded in a dusty old mining town after a man and his wife dump you off and leave you behind. Washoe’s a little gritty and not welcoming unless there’s money to spend.
It’s not exactly safe, not unsafe, either, but nobody asks questions as long as you keep your head down and play the part of a mourning widow just passing through.
You know you’ve overextended your stay when you can’t leave your room during the day without worrying about a noose and the open end of a barrel meeting you outside. 
(That your husband or that gun-waving cowpoke finally found you.)
Sleep practically clings to you like a second skin, but you don’t dare close your eyes—you can’t.
This is how you end up sitting in the corner of the saloon, using the last of whatever you have in your change purse to order something strong, something your husband kept locked away, and anything else he thought women shouldn’t have a part in. 
You don’t even realize that your eyelids begin to feel heavy, steadily blurring out the flickering lantern on the wall while you wait for your drink. 
You catch yourself once or twice before your head can hit the table, rapidly blinking away the exhaustion before your eyes slide to the swinging doors.
You should stay awake. 
You need to stay awake just a little bit longer—
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Your luck runs out that day. 
It’s one thing to know it’d happen eventually, and something else to realize that you make it easy for him—the man with an infamous name and a faded black bandana covering half his face—how he walked into the saloon and scooped you up (all unladylike sleepy dead weight) out of the weathered booth without a fight.
When you’d woken up to find yourself trussed up and thrown over the back of his horse, you cursed him out with every word you could think of that would make Mama clutch her skirts. Your captor ignored you, only talking to you whenever he warned you he was about to set up camp. 
“Did my husband send you?” Acknowledging him after all this time tasted like pennies on your tongue.
The man, Simon Riley, had leaned back against his bedroll and tipped the brim of his hat over his eyes. “Go the fuck to sleep.”
That was several weeks ago. 
Now, you find yourself stranded in another state that’s more green and vibrant than anything you’re familiar with, stuck with a man who refuses to answer the questions you throw at him. He doesn’t talk outside a few cursory words you greedily latch onto. Anything’s better than silence and the sound of hooves hitting earth. 
The pace he keeps you at is exhausting. You complain about it enough until he moves you in front of him, tying your hands to the saddle's horn.
“I would strongly advise you to shut that mouth for the rest of the ride unless you want me to do something about that, too.” The low growl of his voice in your ear makes the fine hairs on the back of your neck stand up, muddling your brain.
You’re distantly aware you had something to say to that, but you don’t. 
And that is really saying something.
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It’s because there’s someone he needs to meet in town—an errand that lawbreakers who run their mouths aren’t allowed to go on.
This is how you end up sitting in camp alone, twirling around a knife he gave you solely for emergencies. 
(Surprise, sharp and quick through your middle, when he tosses his pocket knife into the grass beside you. “What’s to stop me from leaving?”
You could’ve sworn he rolled his eyes. “Will you?”
It doesn’t seem worth dignifying with a reply. You don’t want to travel alone, and there’s a high possibility of getting lost, finding yourself saddled up with worse company than the one you’re stuck with.
Until he evidently catches you again.)
He’s a lot nicer than you first gave him credit for—if only by a fraction—not that you know much about Simon other than what you overheard from gossip circles before you became Mrs. Thornton. Afternoons spent sipping tea laden with honey and lounging around a table full of cakes in the sun parlor while wealthy women talked behind their lace-covered hands to hide secret smiles you were too naive to understand. 
Trying not to stare at the bulge of his arms with thin pink scars—unlike the men you’re used to who got through life with a silver spoon hanging from their mouth—as he places his saddle back on his horse, you think you finally know what they smiled about.
You learn those scars also litter his torso from the time you accidentally walked upon him mid-way through putting his trousers on after washing in the river. It’d been too dark for you to see much else, and you quickly returned to camp before he could say something that would embarrass you both. 
Then, of course, tucked away into your bedroll, you can’t help wondering what the rest of him would have looked like if you had stayed a second longer. 
If his jaw is sharp or soft behind that mask he insists on wearing—that’s if he’d let you see at all. 
Simon’s always so serious that it’s often hard to determine whether he’s merely tolerating your existence until he can get rid of you or if he’s unused to traveling accompanied for so long. It’s not as if he goes out of his way to make pleasant conversation with you for you to assume otherwise.
You look off in the direction where he disappeared into the dense line of trees hours ago, wondering if you should go out looking for him (mainly because you’re hot and sticky from the humidity) despite his order to stay put. 
But after four hours turns into five, you head off, searching for something to help cool you off.
Luckily, unlike the heavily eroded lands you’re used to, there isn’t any water shortage in a place that sees rain three times a day, so it doesn’t take long to find a lake. You set your knife down on the stone-covered beach, followed by your boots, until you’re left in nothing but your undergarments. 
The water is icy cold and laps gently at your feet when you step in. You can’t find it in you to complain as the heat from the day slowly washes away the further you walk in and find a wide ledge to sit on. 
Your thoughts drift back to Simon, incessant and intruding even though you shouldn’t be thinking about him while wet and naked. And suddenly, you can picture it: his hands replacing yours as they trace along your neck. You have a feeling they’re probably rough and scarred from years of living hard and gunslinging, extracting the readily available knowledge that they’re big enough to encase your waist.
He could maneuver you around however he wants (you know this), and you feel dizzy just thinking about it.
Sighing, you sink deeper into the water while your hands smooth over the tips of your breasts and down your stomach. 
You wish you could see him without violating whatever personal preservations hide him from the rest of the world. Instead, you’re left with your imagination—the benefits of being a married woman and the little experience you have in the bedroom finally coming into play. 
Closing your eyes, you picture what he might look like under those sun-weathered leathers, knowing that the broadness of his shoulders isn’t only due to his vest and holsters but also from how his job has shaped him.
Your hands travel lower, fingers brushing through the creamy, soft wetness between your legs, evidence of what Simon does to you even when he’s not around. A moan, too high and breathy, slips past your lips as you use your middle finger to circle your clit in slow, clumsy swirls from lack of practice and patience that spreads warmth through your middle despite the cold water. 
It’s good, your fingers discovering places your husband always ignored—too many nights spent with your hand under your nightgown long after he’d tucked his cock away and gone to sleep—but probably don’t compare to the ones you’ve caught yourself staring at far too many times. 
They don’t fill you nearly enough, unlike how you know Simon’s would—thick and unrelenting. Rough and long, reaching deep enough to make you breathless.
Your breath hitches from pinching the tight, sensitive peak of your nipple until you feel a slight sting, and then it slips out, a tiny thing that’s only audible to your ears—Simon—a secret you now share with the lightning bugs and crickets.
“Dirty, no good rotten—” he’d tell you for thinking such lewd thoughts about him, for sinning so easily. Maybe you are, for getting so worked up over a man who isn’t your husband (no matter how terrible a husband he may be).
A man who’s so big that he makes you feel small, the type that gives before he takes. It’s enough to make you work your hand faster—your body vibrating from the chill of the water and the ache between your trembling thighs.  
Fantasies aren’t enough to sate the deep longing in your chest. Yet you’re slipping over the edge of ecstasy before taking your next breath—all of it builds up and gradually crests inside you like the lake rippling against the shore.
Afterward, it leaves you feeling soft and blurred around the edges, a watercolor painting drying under the sun while you wait for your rapid heartbeat to slow.
You don’t realize your eyes have fallen shut until they flutter open, and you’re startled to find Simon standing at the shoreline, his chest heaving as if he ran here. 
(Though he probably did to see if you took the opportunity to leave.)
You’re glued to your spot on the rock, suddenly struck with the mortifying realization that he’d seen you come—that he possibly heard you cry out his name so intimately.
You watch him remove his hat and hang it on a branch with wide eyes. Followed by his undershirt, guns, and—
He keeps removing clothes until he’s completely naked on the shore—aside from his face that stays hidden—scars marred his chest, spreading to his collarbones and below the water as he steps into the lake and sits on another ledge across from you.
His mask makes him look more menacing, erasing any trace of softness there. And you wonder if he’s angry at you for wandering off.
"Come here." His voice is low and deep, rumbling in his chest.
You don't think he'd hurt you. If he wanted to, he would have done it by now.
At least, that’s what you’re going with to settle the nervous fluttering in your middle.
Water laps at your arms as you wade through the water, each shaky step bringing you closer until you stop before him.
"In my lap."
Your breath sticks in your throat as you do as he says, settling down onto his sturdy thighs, palms falling flat against his broad chest. That same breath comes out in one large exhale as his fingers slide along your jaw, to the nape of your neck, curling into your hair, wet and falling around your shoulders.
“Like this?” you ask, trying to ignore how breathy you sound.
He grunts, apparently in confirmation.
You don’t think you’ve ever felt so conflicted in your life—fear and arousal turning into a messy cocktail in your veins.
“Why do I always have to use a heavy hand to make you listen?”
Your lips part. Breath growing short. “I’m sorry.”
And then—
Simon pulls your head back sharply, exposing your throat.
Your body goes slack against his. Mind blissfully blank.
“No,” he says, tone flat. “But you will be.”
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lokisgoodgirl · 3 months ago
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Deep in the Forest [Loki x Reader]
A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Just a short, smutty, imagine. You and Loki in a tent having feelings. Warnings: 18+ only. Smut. Mild angst. (w/c 750)
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Loki’s lips brush down the delicate skin of your throat; kissing slowly in time with his thrusts. You can feel your pulse inside his breath, flooding the sliver of space between you as his mouth comes to rest on your shoulder with a whisper of praise.
Quiet. You have to be quiet.
The way he moves inside you, the muted whimpers he stifles with every drag of his cock to the tip—if you could absorb a moment, wrap yourself in it forever, it would be this one.
Moments ago, his fingers burst through the thin bottom of your tent. He was willing himself not to explode, or moan so loudly the foxes would begin to howl. Either way, it amounts to the same.
They curl deep in the earth as he roots himself: his digits in soil, his cock in your cunt. The other hand plays with your breast, thumbing the nipple, and his sighs grow heavy while the humidity rises. “Darling,” he murmurs, and you comb damp straggles of hair from his face. His sapphire eyes find yours in the gloom of smothered torchlight; hooded, fogged with a desire he can never name. But you can: ‘love’—and so will he…eventually. The others are in tents dotted around yours.
Cap said, explicitly, ‘no, late night shenanigans’ while looking directly at Loki. And Loki had smiled, innocence swelling in his eyes as he pressed a palm to his chest: wounded. But he came, like he always does, because he can’t resist what you are together. He never can. “Darling,” he chokes again, as another liquid rock of his hips makes you forget your own name. Your legs tighten around him, pushing him deeper, and the torch rolls from its forgotten nest in the sleeping bag. “Shit, Loki…” you hiss, fumbling a hand towards the traitorous torch. Cap'll be all over that like nettle burn. He snorts against your hair, and in a flash, the clunky object vanishes. And with it—the sniff of light. “Hush,” he soothes, making you clench around the root of his cock. For some fucking reason his voice is even more devastating when you can’t see his face. “You wouldn’t want me to be discovered, would you? Deep inside you; deep in the forest of a strange land.” A shiver wrenches down your spine and makes your hips jolt.
Loki groans, stifled by a well-timed kiss. His tongue nudges deeper, a contented sigh rumbling in his chest as you arch into him and his palm slides under your head. Slowly, slowly, he rolls upwards, tugging your clit with his pelvis. It’s inevitable, now.
Climax sparks and begins to blossom outwards, licking between your thighs, tightening every muscle beneath your waist with pure pleasure. It’s inevitable, you think—as he pants quietly in time with your quickening breaths, as he smothers the need to spur you on with loud, filthy commands. A short whine slips between his teeth, and his back muscles tense. “Cum with me, Loki,” you whisper, and his heartbeat hammers against your chest. Long curls pool in your collarbone as his lips find yours in the darkness and Loki of Asgard groans his orgasm deep into your throat.
It’s inevitable, you think again, as your hand slides down his damp back, over the curve of his unbearably hard ass, clutching the twisted sleeping bag in a fist. The two of your are right together, and the world makes sense. He kisses the side of your nose as your silent gasps of orgasm ebb; the tip of your cheekbone, the shell of your ear. Loki's nostrils puff quietly in the humid silence. A droplet from the tent fabric drips onto your leg as you unwind from his body and he shifts to the side. He slips from inside you, seed hot on your inner thigh, and you miss him immediately: a particular kind of emptiness. You wonder if he feels it, too.   “I should go,” he murmurs, but he doesn’t want to. Resistance strings through the syllables like dew on spiderweb. You wait, just in case there’s something else he wants to add to that statement. A confession of love, perhaps. But in the pitch black, the only thing that follows is the trail of a long finger down your cheek, and a brush of his thumb over your lips. And then, his breath hitches. “I…” he starts, and then the words are eaten by the darkness in which they find themselves.
“Go,” you whisper. He leans forward, catching your lips like he’ll never leave. But he does, leaving a gap in the tent flap so you can see the stars. The tent smells of him. “I love you,” you whisper into the pillow with a smile, imagining Loki doing the same four tents over. You’ll say it soon enough. And so will he. It’s inevitable.
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hannieehaee · 9 months ago
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LIKE YOU DO
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18+ / mdi
summary: when your brother's best friend suddenly reveals his newfound crush on you, you find yourself at a crossroads, thinking back to your own unrequited crush on him from back in middle school, making you wonder if you should be the better person and give him a chance.
content: brother'sbestfriend!seungcheol, frienemies-ish to lovers, reader is jeonghan's adoptive sister of his same age, mentions of previous unrequited crush, lots of unserious banter, afab reader, they're both inexperienced, smut, penetrative sex, oral (f receiving), etc.
wc: 7.8k
a/n: this one was kinda short sorry T-T i rlly enjoyed the concept though so it was fun to write! hope u guys enjoy!!
masterlist | kofi/patreon
support me through a one time tip<3
"Jeonghan?"
"Yeah?"
"Why does Seungcheol keep showing up during my breaks to bring me coffee?"
"Oh. He's trying to break you down so he can ask you out," He responded in the most nonchalant way possible.
"What? Since when does Seungcheol even like me?"
"Are you kidding? he's had a huge crush on you since we were seventeen."
"Dude, what? Where the hell was that attitude back in middle school when I was following him around like a fucking loser?", you grumbled at the memory of your former unrequited crush.
It was pathetic to think about, but it was true. You had sadly had a tendency to follow your brother and his friend around during the majority of your tweens and teens, always carrying the false hope that Seungcheol would one day look your way. As expected, he never even so much as glanced at you during that period of your life.
It's not like you could blame him. You were just a few years behind the rest of the herd when it came to puberty, you were still donning braces and also had a less than favorable sense of style. By all means, you were a bit of a loser up until turning 16. However, it was still sad to know that the guy of your dreams simply saw you as a nuance he had to deal with in exchange for being able to hang out with your brother.
Except that had been well over two years ago (give or take). By the time you were 16 and a junior in high school, you were confidently over your crush. You had stopped following him around by the time you entered the second half of your teens, but your crush would still occasionally show remnants of itself any time he was around (which was often, as he and Jeonghan were practically attached to the hip). However, it was far more lowkey than before and eventually died down altogether. You were long past those awkward years of tweenhood and now had a developed sense of style, along with an air of confidence you now carried with you. Puberty hit you all at once and your entire persona changed along with it. You had an established group of friends and were even a bit popular, no longer needing to hang around Jeonghan and Seungcheol just for a glimpse of the boy's attention. By the time you were 16, you were over Choi Seungcheol.
This carried over to the last two years of high school, now with a completely different dynamic between you and your former crush. Despite attending the same grades at the same time, you did not belong to the same social circles, so you would not see each other too often. However, since your brother (and brother's best friend) continued to attend the same school as you those last two years of high school, you still bumped into Cheol from time to time, specially whenever Jeonghan would bring him over.
Over the years, Seungcheol came to see you as less of a nuance and more of a friend. After turning 16 (upon your glow up and the dissipation of your crush), he would engage in casual conversation with you. He would even seek you out on his own at times, though you were never too enthusiastic about these meetings. Middle school you would've been elated at such development, but you didn't think much of it after having gotten over your crush, now bitter over how it had all played out so fruitlessly for you.
After having gotten over your crush, you came to resent Seungcheol a bit, now realizing the way he used to sometimes take advantage of your crush to get you to be his lackey and how he would even make you the butt of jokes among his friend group (whenever your brother wasn't around, of course). During the years in which you were infatuated with him, you truly believed it was just some sort of inside joke between the two of you; a 'will they, won't they' type of dynamic. However, upon leaving that childish phase of your life, you began to look back at it in embarrassment. After that, you distanced yourself from him. During ages 16 and up, you would even come to avoid him, something which Jeonghan thankfully never commented on despite having also been aware of your former crush.
And now. Now you were being made privy to the fact that Seungcheol had apparently begun to return your crush only a little over a year after you got over yours. At seventeen, Jeonghan said. That's the year you like to believe you truly got your act together. After your glow up at 16 years of age (appearance and personality-wise), you began to engage in new hobbies, new friend groups, and overall went through a full transformation of your former loser self (or at least that's how Seungcheol had made you feel all those years). You had put all relationship related interests aside since your catastrophic crush on Seungcheol left you high and dry. After graduating, you even left the country for a few months, deciding to start college a semester after your brother to explore the world a bit in order to find yourself before starting school back up again.
That period of time proved very useful to you. You mingled in the arts of casual dating in your absence (something which you had never done thanks to your irremovable crush), made friends, took up new interests, and most of all, grew out of any remnants of your former feelings for Seungcheol.
Except that all came crumbling down the moment you came back, suitcase in hand, and found Seungcheol at the door of your brother's apartment upon your arrival for your move-in day with your brother, which now seemed to include Seungcheol in the equation.
You had been less than elated when your brother suddenly informed you that instead of solely moving in with him in order to begin attending his university, you would now be sharing the apartment with an unwanted guest – Seungcheol. This had been the first time you saw him again after graduating, which had also been your last day to see anyone for the past six months over the duration of your trip.
Since your brother had begun attending school while you took a sabbatical from education, he had found himself an apartment so you would have a place to move into upon your return. The agreement had been for the two of you to be the sole habitants, until Seungcheol suddenly decided to attend the same university as you and your brother, promptly moving in with Jeonghan in your absence. It seemed like that had been the original plan, one which died when Seungcheol simply decided to stay, moving his things out what was supposed to be your room and moving them into what then became a shared room between him and Jeonghan.
This was when you first began to have suspicions about Seungcheol.
Although your crush had died down about two years back, you still felt awkward in his presence. His existence was a constant reminder of his consistent rejection of your feelings, something which had not helped your confidence much in the past. But it now seemed like Seungcheol had been the one seeking you out more than the other way around. Even back when you were saying your goodbyes before leaving on your vacation, Seungcheol had seemed even more disappointed at your prolonged absence than your own brother. You hadn't thought much of it at the time, except that this behavior kept up as the two of you became roommates.
Seungcheol would now walk you to class whenever possible, even when it meant going out of his way. He would lend you notes from the classes he had taken the prior semester; ones which you were currently having to take. He would show up between your classes with either drink or food in hand. He'd stop by your workplace at the school's cafe whenever he had down time. He'd stare down any guy that would try and interact with you in any of these instances. You were completely casual about it, trying to not read too much into it, but the worst thing about it all was that you liked it. You liked the attention he was finally giving you.
Though you were suspicious about Seungcheol's intentions, you had never considered the possibility of Seungcheol actually liking you romantically until your brother had so casually informed you just now. Even through your immediate complaint about it, your heart sped up at the thought. Your mind went back to every single memory of your own crush on him, thinking back to every single thing you used to like about him. Up until the moment in which Jeonghan called your attention once more, having answered your question but receiving no response from you due to the extended internal monologue you had gone through due to the sudden revelation.
"Sorry, what did you say?", you finally responded.
He chuckled at your absent-mindedness, taking a sip of the coffee in front of him. "I said that your crush was just puppy love. He can't help that he didn't return your feelings at the time. It's been like what, three years since you got over him? Are you really still mad about it?", replied Jeonghan as he nudged you to eat the muffin he had bought you over twenty minutes ago.
Puppy love? It sure didn't feel like it during all those years in which you pined over him. But maybe Jeonghan was right. Maybe it had simply been interpreted as a harmless crush by both Seungcheol and Jeonghan. Except this did not justify every single remembrance of Seungcheol's constant dismissal and mockery of your feelings through the years, only ever looking your way once you were finally over him.
You took a deep breath, deciding to try and be rational in your response, "He mocked me over my crush for years, Jeonghan. He made me the butt of every joke and took advantage of how into him I was for his own entertainment. He only ever started respecting me when I changed my appearance and personality completely. Why should I even consider giving him a chance?"
"Hey, I'm not telling you to do that. Just keep an open mind, okay? We were kids. I'm sure he meant it all in good fun. You know he can be kind of an idiot at times," he took a pinch of the untouched muffin in front of you, "Is there no part of you that maybe still likes him?"
"Did you come to my workplace to harass me into dating your best friend?", you snatched the muffin away – the muffin he had 'bought' despite getting a discount due to your position as a barista, "I'm not the same loser I was in middle school, I have options."
"Oh, yeah?", he smirked, "Then how come you've never had a boyfriend?"
"I'm only 19, it's not like I've dedicated my entire life to celibacy. If I wanted one I could get one. Easy," you argued, "Are you gonna leave any time soon? I need to get back to work," you began to gather his and your cup to head back to your work duties.
"There's literally no one here," he whined, "And stop dodging my questions. Do you like him? Do you want a relationship or not?", he pushed, "I'm your brother, you're supposed to trust me with this type of stuff."
"Adoptive brother," you corrected as you wiped the table Jeonghan was still sitting at.
"Don't say that. I hate it when you say that," he whined.
"You know what? You're right," you decided, halting your movements.
"I am?"
"Yeah. I should get a boyfriend."
"Oh. You mean someone who isn't Seungcheol, don't you?", he sighed.
"Of course. I'm not just gonna come crawling back to him just because he decided he likes me now. And you're right. Now that I'm over my crush and I'm back home, I should get a boyfriend. Maybe that'll get Cheol off of me," you declared.
"So it is about Cheol then."
"Jeonghan, shut up!"
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Things changed for you after that conversation. Or at least the way you looked at Seungcheol shifted.
While you had questioned why he would suddenly begin showing up as frequently as he did, showing genuine interest in your company, you had not once entertained the thought of him liking you. Jeonghan informing you of his crush in such a nonchalant way also made you realize that Seungcheol had been quite obvious about his sudden liking to you, always becoming standoffish when other guys were around and even carrying your backpack for you.
The thought of him liking you pleased you. Even if you wanted to be in denial about it, your crush finally being reciprocated was something you had given hope on back when you were about 15. However, knowing that Seungcheol only started seeing you in a non platonic way after your feelings had finally dissipated also annoyed you beyond belief. How was it fair? He got to tease you and treat you as if you were nothing but a nuance for years, only to turn around a few years later and decide he wanted you? You weren't about to stand for it.
You meant it when you told Jeonghan that you would consider entering the dating scene.
For years, you hoped Seungcheol would eventually like you back, so you never even as much as looked in anyone else's way. When you got over your crush, your pride was too wounded to even think about romance. The only exception had been during your trip overseas, where you dated boys here and there, but it was never anything that lasted over a few weeks. Now was finally the time to begin dating.
Okay, granted. Maybe part of you was doing this just to give Seungcheol a taste of his own medicine, but that part didn't matter too much. You decided you'd just disregard his crush just like he did yours; drinking in all the extra attention but never doing anything about it
~
"Hey, wait up!"
You slowed down without looking back, able to recognize that voice even in your sleep.
"Forget about me? I always walk you to your next class," he chuckled, breathless, "Uh, here. Got you your favorite," he said as he handed you a beverage of your choice.
"Thanks, Cheol," you replied, disinterested as usual.
Even before knowing about his intentions, you had kept a very clear emotional distance from Seungcheol for the past couple of years. You were sure he was aware that your crush had died down years ago, now leaving you completely indifferent towards him, but he never once brought it up. The most reaction you could gauge out of him was the way he deflated a bit every time you spoke to him and failed to show the same enthusiasm you once did.
"So, any plans this weekend?"
"Oh, yeah. Going on a date," you said nonchalantly.
This made him stop in his tracks, causing you to have to slow down your walking once again to turn back and look at him in feigned interest.
"A date? W-what, with who?", he spluttered, a frown making its way on his face.
"Just some guy I met on tinder," you responded, "C'mon, I need to get to class," you nudged him.
He took your instruction to keep walking, still frowning, "A guy from tinder? You don't even know him? I- Is your brother okay with this?"
"It's not really any of his business, now, is it?", you scoffed.
"Since when are you even dating anyway? I thought you needed time to 'find yourself'. Isn't that the whole reason you were gone for half a year?", grumbled Seungcheol.
"Not like it's any of your business, but yeah, I am dating. I'm 19, it's not like I've never dated. I went on dates while I was traveling. It's not that big of a deal."
"You dated? What? And you never told me?"
This made you stop in your tracks, turning to him and making him halt too.
"'Tell you'? Why would you need to know anything about my dating life? We're not even friends."
"Oh, so now we're not friends? I've known you literally since the day Jeonghan's parents brought you home and now we're not friends?", he was beginning to get agitated, you could tell.
Pushing his buttons was fun at first, but now you were also starting to feel frustration at his entitlement over you.
"As far as I can remember, we've never been friends. You just liked the attention I gave you and made a joke of me for years. Is that friendship to you?"
"We- we shouldn't talk about this here, okay?" he looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to the two of you, but saw that only a few other students were walking by, completely unsuspecting.
"You know what, Cheol? Thanks for the drink. I can get to class alone. I'll see you at home," you snatched your bag from his arms and marched away, leaving a confused Seungcheol behind.
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"Cheol told me you guys got into a fight," was the first thing Jeonghan said as he walked into your workplace at 7:30 sharp in the morning.
"God, it's bad enough I have to live with the two of you, do you need to gossip about me too?"
"I told you about his crush in confidence! I can't believe you'd betray my trust like this," he said with zero emotion behind his words.
"No you didn't."
"No I didn't", he giggled, "Give me my usual, yeah?", he took a seat on the counter right in front of you, grabbing a nearby muffin to accompany the drink you were now making him.
"So you're really dating now?", he inquired after less than five seconds of silence.
"How much did Seungcheol tell you?"
"He gave me a rundown of the entire conversation."
You groaned at this. Men were truly the nosier gender.
"Yes, I'm going on a date with some guy from one of my classes tomorrow."
"I thought you said he was from tinder?"
"I just assumed it'd annoy Cheol even more if he thought I was choosing some random guy over him."
"That's mean", he pouted, followed by a grin, "Good job."
You handed him his drink and took a moment to sit down from your side of the counter, sighing dramatically at your brother.
"Are you really not interested in Cheol at all?", he rubbed at your arm to show comfort.
"I ... Maybe? I liked him for so long. It's hard for that to just go away, specially knowing he likes me back. But I can't just let him win me over so easily, you know?"
"Maybe you should talk to him? Let him explain his thought process and see if it's worth giving him a chance."
"Maybe," you sighed.
"Not 'maybe.' You're talking to him. Spending a single night with the two of you while you were icing each other out was enough for me. I told him I'd stay somewhere else tomorrow night so the two of you can talk after your date. It's a done deal."
"Dude! Can you stop making decisions for me? I-"
"I'm your older brother. It's in the fine print," he argued.
"Adoptiv-"
He grabbed the muffin and put it to your lips, interrupting your sentence, "That's enough of that."
You opted to just let him win (yet again) and mentally prepare yourself for your conversation with Seungcheol the following day.
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Joshua.
That was the name of the guy you'd be going on a date with this afternoon.
He was cute, polite, smart, and seemed to be an overall great guy based on the few interactions you'd had with him during class. He was actually who you used to walk to class with before Seungcheol had intercepted your routine by forcing his way into your schedule.
You weren't particularly excited about going on this date. Joshua was the perfect guy by all means, but you didn't feel any type of spark when you were with him. You were pretty sure he didn't either. It was hard to tell. Nothing really compared to the way you felt for Seungcheol during the majority of your teens. You doubted you'd ever crush on someone so hard ever again.
You had never admitted it out loud, but you were pretty sure your crush on Seungcheol had at some point become love. You didn't just like Seungcheol, you (had) loved him, which made getting over your infatuation even harder. It had also made that unbecoming feeling of rejection much harder to let go of. The reminder of the constant rejection you had gone through was enough to not even entertain the idea of looking at Seungcheol with the same enamored eyes you always reserved for him ever again.
And so now you were getting ready for your date. Whether anything came of it didn't matter too much to you. You needed to show both Seungcheol and your brother that you were truly over Seungcheol. That you wouldn't fall for him when it was finally convenient for him.
~
The date was overall nice.
The two of you had opted for something casual, deciding to an arcade and have a casual meal that consisted of nachos and some convenience store ramen afterwards.
The date felt like an outing you'd have with any other friend. Maybe because that's what it actually was in the end.
It didn't take too much time into your date for both you and Joshua to say what you were thinking – You were better off as friends. You both chuckled at it, finding it comedic how you had both had the same thought, meaning there would be no hard feelings at the end of the day.
The night was spent playing games and bantering with one another. It was a casual and quite relaxing outing between two friends. Which is what left Joshua to inquire as to why you had asked him out in the first place as he walked you back to your apartment.
"There's, uh, this guy I'm trying to get over," you decided to be honest with him. You could really see a friendship forming here, plus he seemed like a trustworthy guy, so lying would be fruitless.
"Ah. Makes sense", he clicked his tongue, "Is it Choi Seungcheol by any chance?"
That caught you off guard. And it must've shown in your face, as Joshua chuckled in return before continuing.
"I've just noticed the two of you together a lot lately, that's all. What's the story?"
If only Joshua had known about the length of the story you were about to tell him, he likely would not have asked, but the simple question was enough to fire you up and let him in on every excruciating detail.
By the end of it, Joshua's face had gone through every reaction. From surprised, to angry (likely in empathy), to apprehensive.
"Well, he sounds like he was a dick in high school-"
"Right!"
"But ...."
"'But'?!"
"Listen. You were what, 15? Guys are so dumb at that age. I did my fair share of dumb things. And having a pretty girl be so into you at that age would give any guy a huge ego. Maybe he's being honest about his feelings," he had reasoned.
"Why is everyone on his side? What, am I supposed to just forgive him?"
"Of course not. But maybe part of you still likes him. You shouldn't let your pride get in the way of finally being with the guy you like."
That last statement had left you thinking.
You already had doubts about your feelings for Cheol, knowing that your conflict towards his newfound feelings was enough indication to realize that you might've still been holding a torch for him.
But it was his comment about pride that really had you reconsidering things.
Was it really just your pride stopping you from even giving Seungcheol a chance?
The way that you saw it, if you gave in to Seungcheol now that he finally liked you back, it only proved how weak you were for him, how easy it was for him to just snap his fingers and have you at his feet once again.
But you also needed to consider the fact that he had liked you since seventeen. You were both nineteen now, going on twenty. He had held back on his feelings for two years, hoping that you'd someday reciprocate once more. Clearly he wasn't hoping to use your old crush against you, or else he would've done so already.
These conflicting thoughts plagued your mind all the way until Joshua hugged you goodbye at your apartment door, while you were unaware of Seungcheol watching the two of you with a frown from the small window behind you, completely misreading the situation.
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"Joshua Hong? That's the guy you're dating?", were the first words he said to you when you walked in, fully washed with venom and disdain.
This was starting off well.
"Were you spying on me?"
"You didn't answer my question," he rebutted.
You walked past him and let yourself fall back on the couch, sighing at the conversation you knew was awaiting.
"Cheol. Stop beating around the bush by snooping into my life," you started, the beating of your heart betraying the confidence in your voice, "Jeonghan told me you wanted to talk, so talk."
"Is there even a point? If you're already taken, do I even have a chance?", he chuckled bitterly, taking a seat across from you on a lone loveseat.
Oh.
This was the first time Seungcheol had ever acknowledged his romantic feelings towards you in the two years in which he's supposedly had them. It made you feel weak to admit it, but that statement alone already had your resolve melting.
"I- I'm not taken. Joshua and I are just friends."
"You came back home together at 10. You're wearing a skirt. I saw the two of you hug outside. Am I missing something?", he scoffed.
"Dude, I- What? Those are all completely platonic things. Not like you have any right to complain anyways .." you trailed off.
"Okay, if it's not a date then why did you tell me it was one on Wednesday? Huh?"
"Because I wanted you to know what it felt like!", you blurted, abruptly getting up from the couch.
"What? You-"
"It's not fair, Seungcheol! I liked you. For years. And you never looked my way. You made fun of me, you used me, you ignored me. I was just some dumbass who couldn't take a hint, and now you like me? Now you wanna know who I'm dating and who I like? Hah," you were halfway through your rambles before you realized it.
He got up from his spot and walked over to you, solemn and hurt look on his face. He seemed embarrassed by your statement, though also accepting of it.
"You- you're right. I never took you seriously. I ... I always just saw you as Jeonghan's weird little sister, I-"
"We're the same age!"
"Okay, but Jeonghan was always so protective towards you, I always thought of you as a little kid. I'm sorry, I know how harsh and unfair that sounds, but I don't want to lie to you. I don't know what changed, or when it did, but I- at some point I just couldn't stop thinking about you," he breathed out.
"Hah," you chuckled bitterly, "Was this when I changed my look, Cheol? Are you that shallow?"
"N-no! Listen, I know the timing was bad, but it wasn't that. I always thought you were pretty. I know you probably didn't see it for yourself, and ... I know my teasing probably didn't help your confidence, – and that's something I regret so badly – but you've always been beautiful. It had nothing to do with that, I swear," he held his hand to his chest as if to swear by his words.
You couldn't help blushing at his words, avoiding eye contact for a moment before responding.
"Then what was it?"
"I guess I just missed you", he shrugged sadly, "I got so used to having you around and to knowing how much I meant to you. I took you for granted, and I regretted it the moment I lost you," it was his turn to feel embarrassed, "When you stopped seeking me out, I finally began to see what you were like past your crush. You were so fun and carefree. So nice and, and beautiful. You saw me in rose-colored glasses and I just didn't see you at all. Not until then," he finished.
"What does this all mean, Cheol?" you said, almost exasperated, "Am I supposed to forget the way you'd mock me or just straight up ignore me for years? Yeah, sure, we were kind of beginning to become friends once high school was almost over, but it didn't mean anything to me by that point. I was just over it."
"And are you over me?"
"What?"
He lifted his eyebrow in question, taking a few steps towards you.
"Are you really completely over me? Do you feel nothing at all?", his eyes were confidently following your gaze as he questioned you.
"I- Yes, I am," you gulped unwillingly, taking a few steps back as he took some forward.
"I don't believe that. I mean, you left only for a few months and I never stopped thinking about you ... There's no way you got over me that suddenly, is there?"
"You think too highly of yourself, Cheol-"
"So you feel nothing at all?", he had made his way into your personal space by now, almost crowding you against the wall, "Aren't you curious, at least? Don't you wanna see if there's anything left?", he breathed out.
"I, Cheol, I-"
"Just tell me no. Push me away. Tell me to fuck off and I'll leave you alone," his gaze fell to your lips, slowly making its way back to your eyes again.
"I can't, I ... Cheol ..."
Due to your lack of rejection, Seungcheol closed the gap, gently pressing his lips against you as he let out a breath of relief in his kiss.
You'd kissed a few boys during your time away. Hell, you'd even kissed Joshua earlier today, but neither of those experiences had felt quite like this. During all those exchanges, Seungcheol had always somehow been in the back of your mind, making you wonder what it would've been like if he had been the guy you were kissing instead. Now you finally knew what it was like ... And you were already growing addicted.
It was only a few seconds into the kiss when the two of you let your desire for the other take over. He groaned against your lips as you ran your hands through his hair, pulling his face as close to your own as possible. His hands ran down to your waist and caressed your back in a way far too desperate for the first kiss shared between the two of you.
With no words, he kissed you until running out of breath, eventually lowering his head so he could attack your neck with licks and nips to the sensitive skin on there. You leaned your head to the side, allowing him more room to suck into as he rejoiced in your sighs of pleasure.
It was a mutual exchange. The two of you seemed to be equally desperate for the other, your wandering hands never halting in the exploration of the other's body. His hands eventually dared to venture under your top, slowly sneaking their way towards your breasts. He kissed your lips once more as his hands caressed and played with your tits, moaning against your mouth every time you'd whine at his touches.
"Angel ...", he breathed against your lips, "Are you still sure? Are you still sure you don't want me?", his words were slightly muffled by his inability to disconnect from you for more than a second.
"I need- fuck, Cheol ... Just-"
"I know ... It's okay. You don't have to say it," he pushed his tongue into your mouth once again.
Cheol separated from you and led you to your room by your hand, closing the door before pressing you up against it and kissing you again.
The way he kissed you was nothing but sensual and full of emotion, making you forget any complaint you had against him as his lips connected to yours again and again.
His hands took advantage of your caged in position, feeling up every curve and squeezing at his favorite parts. There was a depraved urgency behind his movements, almost as if he had been aching to do this; burning to finally have you to his full disposition. When he seemingly had his fill of caressing every inch, he pulled away barely enough to speak (which had been a feat, as your lips desperately followed his, and his own were unable to resist yours at first).
"Let me take you to bed," be begged, "I've wanted you for years. Please, let me have you," he plead against your lips, giving you a languid peck as he finished his request.
"Cheol ..."
He pulled away a bit more at the hesitancy in your voice, "I know I was an asshole. I know I hurt you for years. I know I don't deserve you," he took a deep breath before intensely looking into your eyes, "but I can't stop thinking about you. If you ever felt even an ounce of what I've felt towards you since we were seventeen, then I'm so sorry to have caused you such pain. I was a stupid teenager who felt too cool to look your way long enough to realize you were far too good for me. Please. Please, I'll beg if you want me to , just ... Give me a chance," he finished with a pained expression in his eyes, voice wavering by the end of his speech.
"You made me feel like such an idiot, like-"
"I'm the idiot – Me! You're perfect," he grabbed onto your hands and brought them up to his lips, "I love you. So much. Jeonghan's so fed up of hearing me tell him how in love with you I am. All my friends know how I feel about you. I'll embarrass myself time and time again proving it to you," dropping your hands, he wrapped his arms around you again, bringing you closer to him as his eyes dropped to your lips.
That had been a shock.
You had never expected for Seungcheol's feelings to be anything more than superficial, much less did you expect for him to confess to you in such a way. The thought of him gushing about you to his friends was enough to make you blush, but knowing that he was willing to prove his feelings for you as much as you saw fit made you weak at the knees. This was all you had ever wanted, tenfold. If your current reaction to his revelation was anything to go by, then you were now realizing that your feelings for him had never truly gone away. You had carried a torch for Seungcheol all these years, even when you thought you had completely gotten over him. Even when you weren't thinking of him, he was always plaguing your mind.
And so you kissed him.
You put all previous hesitancy aside and followed your desires, pulling him to you as you let passion take over.
He didn't question you, choosing to press you up against him instead, blindly walking the two of you towards your bed and laying you down in it, crawling on top of you once more to keep kissing you.
No words were exchanged for a while, the only sounds filling up the room were made up of your collective moans and the ruffling of the bedsheets – result of the way you were feeling each other up. You were glad Jeonghan had decided to stay elsewhere tonight. Hell, he probably knew the two of you would snap and end up in the way you evidently did.
Pulling away for a quick moment, Seungcheol pulled away and threw off his shirt, causing the cloudiness in your mind to clear up for a moment so you could lean up and run your hands through his bare chest, earning a chuckle from him.
"Like what you see?", he smirked like the cockiest shit you'd ever seen, except it kinda worked on you regardless.
But you couldn't let him have the upper hand here, so you did what any sensible girl would do and threw off your own top, leaving you in a pretty lacy bralette.
The smirk wiped off his face immediately as his eyes lowered to your breasts. To make matters worse for him, you decided to sensually pull off your bra, making a little show out of it just to see how much lust would overtake him at the sight.
"Fuck ...", he muttered, leaning down so he could get his hands on you.
You stopped him before he could, however. Smirking at him, "You have to ask, Cheollie."
"Angel ... Don't play this with me."
"Ask, or else you can't touch me."
"I- Fuck. Please. Can I touch them?," he breathed out, eyes still glued to your chest as you played with your own mounds just to mock him.
You nodded, taking his arms and leading them to your chest.
He took full advantage of this, feeling you up like a starved man devouring his last meal. His mouth joined in on the fun soon after, kissing and licking at your nipples, groaning whenever your hands would pull at his hair.
He undressed the rest of you during the following minutes, making quick work of your shoes, his own, and your skirt. His pants were the last to go, leaving the two of you in just your underwear.
"Help me take it off?", he led your hands to his hardened cock, hooking your fingers on his boxers so you could get them off for him. You pulled his face down to your own and sucked on his tongue as your other hand aided him in removing his boxers. He did the same to your panties, finally crawling on top of you again, with your bare crotches finally facing one another.
"Fuck, I want you so bad," he breathed against your lips, beginning a slow grind against your cunt.
You ground against each other like animals in heat for a while, losing your breaths with the other's lips. The way his hardened length graced your folds with the perfect friction had you getting wetter by the second, making you wail against his lips.
"Can I eat you out, baby?," he groaned into your mouth, a desperate look in his eyes.
"Y-yes, fuck," you cried.
He kissed at your nude body on his way down, licking and sucking splotches of red and purple wherever he could until reaching your thighs, using his strong arms to open them and wedge himself between them.
"God ... Been dreaming of kissing up these thighs for years. You're so fucking gorgeous, do you even know?", he sounded pained as he said so, pressing soft kisses at the softest part of your thighs, "Dreamt about you since were seventeen," he blew cold air into your cunt, causing you to retract a bit.
"Cheol ..."
"Is this how you felt? Huh? Did you want me just as badly as I did you?", he finally gave you an experimental lick, groaning at the taste, "But you never got over me, did you? That's good," he nodded to himself, licking more and more, "That way I get to keep you," and that was all he could say before his mouth became fully occupied by your cunt.
And he was right. Even as your crush died down, you got older and began to have thoughts about him. Thoughts that accompanied you on the many lonely nights while you were abroad and away from him. During all those nights in which you swore you were over him. It was nice to know that you'd had a similar effect on him these past few years.
You didn't have much time to ponder about it as Seungcheol quite literally lost himself between your legs. His arms proved to be as strong as they looked, forcing your legs open even as the stimulation made you try and close them around his head. His groans of pleasure against your weeping cunt did not help matters, simply leading you to your end all the faster.
"Fucking delicious, fuck. No one's ever had this before, right, beautiful? You've been saving this cunt for me? Hmm?", he slurred his words while he made out with your pussy, groaning once more when you whimpered in confirmation, "Need to taste you, angel. Cum for me, fuck. Wanna be the first one to feel you like this," he rambled, delirious on your taste.
And you were equally as delirious, falling apart for him almost as if your body had been following his direction. He continued to make sinful sounds against your cunt as he tasted you all through your high, making you even more lightheaded than you already were.
Giving you no time to recover, Seungcheol climbed atop you once more and made you swallow any words you may have had by sealing your lips with his own, forcing your the remnants on your taste onto your own tongue. You battled each other like this once more, hands careless as they grabbed at one another in desperation.
"C-condom?", be pulled away to ask.
"No, Cheol. I- You don't carry?", you managed to let out.
"I, No. I- I've never ..."
He looked uncharacteristically bashful, making you tilt your head in curiosity. Until it hit you.
"You're a virgin?"
He pulled away at this, sitting up a bit on the bed and creating a small distance between the two of you.
"It's not- I've done stuff before, just not ... this. I, uh, I was waiting for you," he confessed, forcing his eyes away from your gaze.
This broke your heart, but in a good way.
If you had any remnants of doubt in your mind about his sincerity about his crush, they were gone now. He had waited. For you. He wanted you to be his first, so he waited for you to come back. He waited for you to like him again. In the same way you had never seriously dated anyone before, he waited.
"Cheol ..."
He must've misinterpreted your tone, as he continued to refuse eye contact with you, seemingly embarrassed at being a virgin for some reason.
So you took matters into your hands, grabbing onto him with a confident hand and pulling him into you once more. With some unexpected strength, you managed to switch positions with him, now straddling him as his back laid against your mattress.
Before he could question you, you kissed him again, this time with a passion you knew you could only reserve for Seungcheol. He kissed you back with equal want, making you feel like you'd reached a stage of nirvana no one had ever before. Every emotion behind the kiss was far too intense to even describe.
The rest of the exchange was almost wordless, with a few silences being filled by praise for one another. You finally sat yourself down on him, condomless, but not regretful at all for your decision. If you were to ever let anyone impale you without filter, it'd be him.
The bruises he left on your hips were accepted with delight. It was only fair, seeing as your nails also left marks on his chest. The two of you left your mark on the other; a silent way of letting the other know who they belonged to.
You bounced and ground on top of him, almost wailing at the way in which his hands guided your movements in such a desperate way. At some point you began shamelessly humping against each other, filling the space with depraved sounds of pleasure.
Cheol looked down to the spot connecting you, groaning upon seeing the wetness seeping from your cunt, but decidedly bringing a hand towards your mound in order to toy with your clit. The arch of your back and extra tightness of your cunt were enough for his orgasm to approach more rapidly than planned.
"With me," he rasped, "Cum with me ... Need your first time to be with me. Just like this."
You barely registered his words. Your eyes were already rolled back, and your back arched almost to the point of breaking. Your toes completely curled and your nails digging into his reddened chest. But you understood, and your body acted accordingly, bringing you into orgasm as he softly counted you down, leading to an almost perfectly synchronized high.
A few moments of comfortable silence (sans the heavy breathing) went by before Seungcheol carefully pulled out of you with a low groan and did his best at cleaning you up with some kleenex near your bed. He gave you a soft peck after he was done, settling the two of you under the covers and held you in his arms.
"Always wanted this part too."
"Hmm?"
"To hold you like this", he clarified, smiling down at you.
Blushing involuntarily, you agreed, cuddling further into his warm chest, leading him to softly run his hands up and down your back in a comforting manner.
"I meant everything I said. I'll always regret treating you the way I did. There's no reason why you should, but I hope you'll forgive me," he sounded pained at his own words, likely feeling genuine hatred for the way in which he behaved during your early teenage years.
You pulled away from his chest, creating a small distance between you so you could look into his eyes properly.
"Seungcheol, I ... I love you," you started, "And I forgive you. I was wrong to judge you so harshly for not liking me the way I wanted you to back then. I'm sorry for letting my pride get in the way. I shouldn't have iced you out after I got over you. It was the only way at the time to protect myself from the rejection and-"
"Stop," he went to hold your cheeks in his hands, "You have nothing to apologize for. You forgiving me is all I wanted, and ... and knowing you feel the same is more than I was ever expecting. We'll move past all that, okay?"
"Okay," you nodded sweetly.
"Now ... Is it too soon to ask you to be official?"
"You waited until after popping my cherry to ask me out?", you laughed.
"In my defense ..."
"You have none!"
"Okay, whatever! Just say yes so Jeonghan doesn't continue to suffer through my rants about how much I like his sister," he pulled you into his arms again, returning your laughter.
"Fine! Yes! We're official," you feigned annoyance, but were unable to not mimic his own smile.
It had taken far too long, but you finally had the upper hand. He liked you. He asked you out. He was yours. The wait had been worth it.
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To read short 2k word continuation u can go join my monthly tier on kofi or patreon!
content: smut, penetrative sex, deprived cheol, banter with jeonghan, etc.
wc: 989 (teaser); 2009 (full drabble)
sneak peak:
"Okay, I need the two of you to get the hell out of my apartment."
That had been the way in which Jeonghan welcomed the two of you upon walking in on you and Seungcheol calmly watching a movie together in your shared living room.
It had now been three months since you and Seungcheol began officially dating. Since you were roommates, this also meant that you were now living with your boyfriend. Despite the fact that Cheol and your brother shared a room together (leaving you with a room of your own), Seungcheol still had the tendency of spending a few nights per week sleeping over at your room.
So far, the dynamic between the three of you hadn't changed too much. The biggest difference was that now you and Seungcheol finally developed more of a friendship than you had during the period of time between high school and college in which you had begun to ice him out in order to protect your own feelings. That, however, died down as soon as you moved in, eventually leading to your current romantic relationship with each other.
Jeonghan had been happy for you, having known that if he forced the two of you (and subsequently left you two alone in the apartment) to talk, you'd inevitably end up confessing your feelings and finally getting together. He had seen it coming since middle school, he had said. It only took about six years for his matchmaking to come into fruition, but it led to some pretty interesting slowburn – his words, not yours.
In these past three months, however, some awkward moments had arisen.
Being your brother, Jeonghan always found it uncomfortable whenever he happened to be around when you and Seungcheol would do couple activities. Seeing you hang out was fine, obviously, but a few weird instances had already left him traumatized.
So far, he had walked in on you making out a total of five times, feeling each other up over your clothes two times, Seungcheol making eyes at you seven times, had come across your discarded underwear three times, and had even walked in on you having sex once. At some point a line had to be drawn, and apparently he had chosen that to he now.
"Dude, you're the one who wanted us to get together," you argued.
"I wanted the mutual pining to stop, not to almost walk in on my sister getting railed every other day. Leave!," he said, though he simply sat down on the couch, forcibly creating a wedge between you and Cheol.
"Let's just go to your room, babe," Seungcheol got up, taking your hand while giving Jeonghan a dirty look, "Nuance," he grumbled.
"You're the nuance," responded Jeonghan, though already immersed with the popcorn and TV he had stolen from you.
Seungcheol led you to your room, closing the door behind you and instantly turning to you.
"Hi, baby," he whispered, holding you close to him.
"Hi," you giggled at him.
He leaned down to kiss you, his hands on the small of your back and pressing you up against him. His lips were basically on yours before Jeonghan's sudden voice made the two of you jump back in surprise.
"Don't have sex! I swear to God, if I hear the two of you having sex one more time, I'm evicting you! Just sleep like normal people!," he had yelled from the living room.
He had a bit of a point. The walls were relatively thin here, and you weren't exactly quiet when you had sex.
Seungcheol groaned and buried his face in your neck, "Baby, will you still love me if I kill your brother?"
"I'll love you even more," you pouted.
He snickered, removing his head from your neck and giving you a singular peck on your lips, "C'mon, let's go to sleep."
~
The two of you had initially thought that Jeonghan's complaint about you having sex had been a fluke. You believed that maybe he was stressed that day and that he hadn't meant what he said when he stated that he did not want the two of you to sleep together anymore. However, his words proved to be more literal throughout the following week.
Any time the two of you were so much as together, Jeonghan would groan and complain, saying that if he caught the two of you doing anything less than PG, he would cause 'any trouble possible to stop it' (his own words). It was beginning to frustrate you, but your frustration could not compare to that of Seungcheol's.
"I'm going to kill him. I'm really doing it this time," he said decidedly, hearing Jeonghan's incessant attempts to interrupt whatever was going on behind your closed door.
"Babe-"
"I just want to have sex with you! It's been over a week since I've had you, I'm going insane", he pulled at his scalp.
"Yeah, I know, but he just-"
"Babe, I don't think you understand. I'm hard every day. Even seeing you gets me going by now. I can't do this anymore! Any time I try to touch you, he's there somehow!"
The manic look in his eyes spoke for itself. And it was true. Seungcheol's constant blue balling this past week and a half had him growing aroused at the mere sight of you in shorts. It was flattering, but it was beginning to affect you too. Knowing how badly he wanted you made you weak at the knees, causing the two of you to grow incredibly frustrated at your brother's antics.
You realized now that maybe you shouldn't have been so liberal in sleeping together while living with your brother. You should have known he would snap sooner or later, no matter how much he had rooted for the two of you to get together.
You wondered how this would end up playing out, because the two of you were already beyond breaking.
...
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laligraves · 3 months ago
Text
chp.2 - poolside
morning run series
joel miller x fem!reader
[18+] | wc: ~2.7k summary: Your nap is interrupted by Joel. masterlist | AO3
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warnings: HBO Joel, TLOU AU, dubious consent (i'm so serious, don't read if it makes you uncomfortable), NSFW, pre/no outbreak, some proofreading (not enough so sorry for mistakes), Joel is a tall and very strong man, older man/college-aged reader, no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, alcohol consumption, pet names, some degradation, breeding kink (yeah), fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie
a/n: i'm still here <3! just busy with real life :( i don't have a huge plan for this series except to make little one shots here and there since i have a lot of fun with these two characters lol. other stuff on the way i promise <3
You left two days after that encounter with Joel Miller. Your head was still spinning and your pussy still sore, but the semester started and you needed to be back on campus. 
The first night back in your dorm, you debated throwing out the roses that now sat on your desk. You lasted 10 minutes just looking at them before you were touching yourself to the memory of him. You could still feel the scratch of his beard on your neck and remember the smell of his cologne. 
He’d put his phone number in your contact list and you debated calling him. But what would you even say? 
You should be mad at Joel for what he did. Yet somehow, he managed to reach into the deepest corners of your mind and fulfill one of your darkest fantasies. 
Now, back in town, you can’t help but feel a little excited to see him again. Even if the more sane part of your brain is trying to convince you to slap him across the face if he comes near.  
“Hey, lazy girl,” your sister calls out. 
“Hey,” you respond softly, not moving from your spot on the lounge chair. 
“I’m leaving. Are you sure you’ll be okay?” 
“Yeah,” you reply, knowing you’ll probably spend the entire week swimming and sunbathing by the pool. 
“I left money on the counter and the keys to my car in case you need it.” 
“Okay, mom,” you say sarcastically. 
She throws a pool noodle at you and leaves with her friend after that, promising to text you when she reaches her destination. Any other time you’d be disappointed that your sister was leaving for a full week just as you arrived for summer vacation, but she’s been working so much that she deserves a trip. 
The stress from the semester leaves your body with each lap around the crisp pool and the warm sun. You go back into the house to make yourself a tequila soda and make your way back out to the chairs underneath the canopy. 
A sudden thought pops into your head as you look around the empty backyard. The fences are tall enough and the gate leading to the backyard is locked. Your sister doesn’t have cameras that face this side of the house yet, so there’s really no reason for you to be so nervous. 
You’ve never sunbathed in the nude, there’s just never been an opportunity for it. But now, with the house empty and the tequila coursing through your veins, it would be the perfect time to do so. 
Before the courage leaves you, you slip off the strings of the bikini and spread out on the lounge chair.
“Absolutely nothing to worry about,” you whisper. 
You eventually doze off, moving around until you’re once again face down. A text message from your sister lights up your screen, but at this point you’ve fallen asleep and don’t pay any mind to it. 
I forgot to tell you that Joel Miller from down the block is stopping by. He’s going to plant the roses Susan wants, but needs to take a look first. Help him with whatever he needs. Tell him thank you! 
You start to dream of Joel massaging sunscreen on your back, trailing his hands over your sides until they land on the soft, plump flesh of your ass. 
His hands massage and spread your cheeks open, presenting your asshole and pussy for his eyes. Joel lands a glob of spit right on your little winking star and you flinch slightly. 
“It’s okay, babydoll,” he coos. 
The tip of his finger circles your asshole just a bit, enough for you to shiver from the sensation. 
His fingers trail down to your pussy where he slowly teases a finger up and down your slit, gathering the wetness. 
“Joel,” you whimper. 
You push back on his hand, overcome with need.
Joel laughs at your desperate attempts to fuck yourself on his hand and moves your thigh to the side, giving him the perfect view of your cunt. 
Before you have a chance to complain, he spreads you open and runs his tongue through your folds. Your hands grip the towel and you almost scream in surprise. 
At the scrape of his teeth on your inner thigh and the scratch of his beard on your skin, you begin to wake. This isn’t a dream.  
“What–” 
“‘bout time you woke up,” Joel growls. “Dreamin’ about me, babydoll?” 
You lift your head, slightly delirious, still grinding back on his face. 
“Joel, whatthefuck–” you whisper, words slurred from sleep. 
He tongues your entrance and swipes a finger over your clit, a movement that has you almost seeing stars. Joel ignores your pleas for him to wait, choosing instead to push two large fingers into your pussy. You choke down on your words at the stretch, still confused. 
“Can barely fit my fingers in this sweet cunt,” Joel says.  
“Wait–” you whimper, “fuck, wait.” 
With his fingers still in your pussy, he moves up to lie partially on top of you. He bites your shoulder, neck, runs the tip of his tongue over the shell of your ear. 
“No waiting, babydoll. Gotta stretch this tiny hole,”  
Vulgar. He’s so nasty with his words, still, your pussy beats with its own heartbeat. 
“Joel–” 
“All this time waitin’ for you to call me,” Joel hums into your ear, “just used me for my cock, didn’t you? Little slut.” 
“No, I didn’t. I–” 
“I knock you up?” 
You give a tiny, jerky shake of your head, no, unable to form words. 
“Guess we’ll have to try again, yeah?” he murmurs in your ear. “Gonna’ fill up this pussy.”
“No—“
You mean to say it with conviction. But your voice wavers, and you cum right into the palm of his hand, soaking him.
You grind down on his hand and bite into the towel to muffle your screams. 
“Good girl,” Joel groans, “just love makin’ a mess, don’t cha’?”   
Your hands slowly let go of the towel and your body becomes limp. Joel stands from the chair and you hear the clatter of his belt and the soft rustle of his clothes landing on the ground. 
Your nap being interrupted by Joel is not something you were expecting. In fact, what is he doing here?
“Joel, what are you–” 
His hands reach for your hips and he’s flipping you over on your back, making room for himself between your thighs.
“Needa look at your pretty face and pretty tits while I fuck ‘ya.” 
“We can’t–” 
Joel’s calloused fingers pinch your hard-tipped nipples and as if your body is already conditioned for him, you push up right into his hands.
“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” Joel groans. 
Before you know what’s happening, Joel leans down to drag his tongue over each peak. He bites, leaving only a hint of pain and shushing your needy whines. 
He grinds down between your open thighs, covering his cock in your slick. You moan and writhe on the lounge chair, twisting your hips with each bump of his mushroom head right on your swollen button. 
 “Joel, please,” you beg. 
But you’re not quite sure what you’re begging for. The sane part of your brain tells you to put an end to this, to send Joel far away from you. But then he sucks your nipple into his mouth and your mind goes blank.
Joel keeps biting, sucking, lapping at your tits until you feel the familiar sensation in your lower belly. As if sensing another orgasm, either from your moans or the way you're grinding up on his cock, Joel stops, placing a soft kiss on each nipple before leaning back. 
“I needed to taste those tits before I fuck ya’,” Joel rasps. 
You tremble beneath him, laying there in a sweaty heap. Joel’s face is slightly flushed and his chest rises with each ragged breath he takes. 
Fuck, he’s handsome. Salt and pepper hair, creases around his eyes, a hooked nose and a huge cock make him the most attractive man you’ve ever seen. 
The second he releases your hands, you drag your fingers down his hairy chest and over his soft belly. He’s hard and soft, muscular from working outside but with a belly that you want to lay your head on. 
He moves your hand away, linking his fingers through one of yours and uses his other hand to bump the tip of his length at your entrance. You try, in a small voice that’s just about surrendered to the lust swirling in your head, to stop Joel, suddenly remembering that this is not your house, but your sister’s. 
“Joel, my sister is inside–” 
He tsks in disappointment. “She’s gone for the week,” he interrupts, swirling the tip of his cock on your clit, “don’t lie to me, babydoll.”
Your mouth opens to ask how exactly he knows that, but Joel takes that moment to slide right in. A high-pitched squeal claws its way out of your mouth at the stretch of his cock. 
Joel groans, sounding almost pained. His eyes shut and his mouth drops open while you fight to push him off of you. You forgot just how large he was, and even if your cunt is slick and this isn’t the first time, it’s still a little painful. 
Joel places your hand above your head, still keeping his fingers linked, and uses his other hand to push up your thigh. His nose brushes yours and he gives you a soft kiss.  
He rocks his hips slowly, pushing his tongue into your mouth and matching the pace. You don’t kiss him back, too preoccupied with the cock spearing inside of you and the loss of air in your lungs. 
“Too much–”, you mumble, “too much!” 
Joel moves his lips down your chin, the tip of his tongue dragging a hot path down your neck. Goosebumps erupt on your skin as you try to catch your breath. Each thrust of his hips make you lightheaded. 
“No,” Joel murmurs into your neck, “you can take it, babydoll. Take it like a good girl.”  
With your free hand you try to push at his hips, for him to just give you a moment to breathe. Joel quickly takes your other hand and places it above your head, locking both of your wrists in his grasp. 
Your tits are in Joel’s face, pushed up by the arch of your back. Joel takes full advantage and runs his tongue over your swollen nipples. 
You’re not speaking coherently anymore. Between your pleas for him to slow down, please you whine with each hard thrust into your pussy. 
“Fuckin’ greedy,” Joel groans, “pussy keeps suckin’ me right back in.” 
“You’re so fucking nasty,” you mumble in half-hearted anger. 
But he’s right. Your pussy flutters with each slide of his cock and your thighs bracket his hips, keeping him as close as possible.
The thick head of his cock bumps your womb and you’re almost certain he’s growing bigger inside of you. You can smell him, his cologne and sweat, the scent of a man who spends his time working outside with his hands. 
If Joel were any other man, you’d hate the smell. But with him, it’s intoxicating. 
The first time together was quick, in his front yard where you were forced to stay quiet and take whatever he gave you. Now, your whimpers are loud and he’s in no rush to finish quickly. 
“Gonna breed this little cunt,” Joel slurs, “gonna make you a mommy.”
His hips move faster and tears begin to fall from the corner of your eyes. Joel invades your space and kisses every inch of skin he can reach. Imprints of his teeth and his saliva are left on your neck, tits, and mouth. 
“You want that babydoll? Wanna make me a daddy?” 
Any other man, especially one who is practically a stranger would make you cringe. But Joel’s breeding kink doesn’t phase you. You fall into the fantasy of him cumming inside of you and giving you a baby. 
He pushes his tongue almost down your throat while he fucks you. You kiss him back and suck his tongue on instinct. He whimpers, a sound that makes your pussy tighten in response.  
“Jesus–,” Joel groans. 
“Joel, please,” you whimper, “m–more, please!” 
The chair shakes with each of his thrusts, just about able to hold your combined weight. Joel lets go of your hands and leans back to watch his cock slide into you, seemingly mesmerized at the sight. 
Your hands reach for his sweaty chest, arms, caressing his heated skin. Joel pushes your thighs open and you hear every sticky, wet slide of his cock.
He’s suddenly sliding a hand underneath your neck. 
“Look, babydoll,” Joel gasps. 
You don’t pay him much attention, your eyes barely able to focus on his face.   
“C’mon–fuck.” 
You lean up on your elbows with the little energy you have left and watch his length, veiny and large, covered in your slick, piston in and out of you. 
If it didn’t feel so good, it would be almost scary to look at. Joel, so much larger and stronger than you, somehow able to fit so perfectly inside of you. 
You fall back on the lounge chair and Joel places your ankle on his shoulder. He turns his head to nip your soft skin, leaving another imprint of his teeth on your body. 
He pushes his thumb inside of your mouth and doesn’t even flinch as you bite down. 
“I almost drove down to that college of yours,” he moans, “wanted to drag you outta the dorm and fuck you in the hallway.” 
You moan around his thumb, lost in the fantasy of big, broad Joel dragging you by the hair and fucking you out in the open, in front of everyone to see. 
His words are slurred at this point. But he's so drunk on pure lust that he can’t help himself but keep talking. 
“Wanted to show everyone who owns this slut pussy.”  
The way he speaks to you should make you angry, but you pussy only flutters and squeezes as he calls you his little slut.
He removes his thumb from your mouth and gently slaps your cheek before swiping his spit-covered thumb over your clit. 
He swipes over your swollen bud, once, twice, using your spit and slick that now covers both of your lower bodies.
Your orgasm tears through you, washing over you in warm waves of bliss. 
Joel keeps fucking you, moving faster until his hips piston and you're being used as a toy while your orgasm courses through your body. 
He lays on top of you, keeping your thrashing and whimpering body bracketed onto the chair. Joel’s moans grow loud in your ear and you know he’s close. 
“Not inside–” you whimper, “don’t cum–” your words not having any real meaning behind them except to add to your fantasy. 
“Fuckin’ mine, my little cunt,” Joel snaps, “gonna cum in my babydoll–” 
He swells impossibly larger inside of you and then you feel it, the hot splash of cum. Ropes and ropes fill your cunt and he grinds his cock into you, buries his head in your neck and groans your name over and over again. 
Your body, still recovering from your orgasm from only a few moments ago, trembles once more. The warmth of his cum painting your womb shakes another one out of you. 
You’re not sure how long it lasts. Joel continues to whisper in your ear about how fuckin’ sweet you are and how you have the tiniest cunt ever, babydoll while his cock fills you with cum. 
Joel continues to lay on top of you and while he’s larger in every sense of the way, his weight is comforting. The setting sun is blocked by the canopy which you're grateful for because you don’t want him to move. 
“How are ya’ feeling?” Joel asks. 
You’ve almost fallen asleep at this point. 
“Full… and sore,” you whisper. 
“Maybe this time I’ll actually knock you up,” Joel whispers, placing a kiss on your forehead. 
You roll your eyes and push him off of you. 
“Not going to happen, old man. I’m on birth control. And we just met!"
“Shame,” he sighs dramatically. “How about I grill us some steaks?” 
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purplecoffee13 · 5 months ago
Text
The Silent Type*
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Summary: “Harry, the quiet guy in the office, has silently admired you during your time working for the firm. Now that your work there is done, Harry finds that he can’t let you go just yet…”
Wc: 5k
Tropes: colleagues (ceorry/nerdrry)
Warnings: SMUT, overstimulation, daddy kink, switch sub/dom dynamics, oral, choking
A/N: SUP Y’ALL!!!! God I have just been waiting to be able to write again! I still have some exams coming up next week, but I spent all evening writing this one shot because I have been dying to get back into it😋 This is my first time writing a more subrry tinted fic, so I hope you enjoy it!
General Masterlist
if you want to support me more than liking or sharing, you can consider buying me a coffee!
************************************************
Harry has never been one to talk much.
It is one of the reasons why he chose the career of software developing. Most of it, he could do on his own.
It wasn't so much that Harry hated people, he just preferred his own company. More people tend to complicate things, and Harry is a more logical guy.
That was until he met you.
About three months ago, the company for which Harry worked had started their expansion, and he was to lead the people transferred to that section of the firm. With the expansion also came new employees, and that’s where you came in.
You had been temporarily hired by the company to weed out applicants, and assist the current HR manager to help with the job interviews.
Harry still remembers that first day when you walked into the office, all nervous and fidgety. He had spotted you through the glass walls of his office, and couldn't physically tear his eyes off of you.
It wasn't until your third day helping in the office, that you actually met Harry. You had no idea what to think of him. Well, besides the obvious, of course. He was ridiculously handsome, and from the way he was staring at you, you figured that maybe he was thinking something like that about you too.
But he didn't talk.
Your first time meeting consisted of nothing but a gruff 'nice to meet you' from Harry's side, and no input in the rest of the conversation whatsoever. It was only a couple days later, when you asked the HR manager about it, that you found out that's just how he was, that he didn't really talk to anyone. From that moment on, there had been a surge of motivation to let him make you the one exception.
Harry was just fascinated by you, and he had no idea why. You were a ball of energy, talking so fast you'd think someone had clicked on your 'sped up' button, and you were chaotic, all over the place. The amount of times he watched you bump into people was impossible to keep count of.
Then, one day, you bumped into him. It should have angered him, the spilt coffee on his pants. But he had an extra suit, and you looked so worried, he didn't want to make you feel worse. You still felt bad, though, so you decided to make it up to him, and started getting him coffee every morning.
By the end of the first week, he looked you in the eyes when he thanked you. By the end of the fourth, he'd ask you how you are and recall things you'd told him. By the end of sixth, he told you things about his life, and by the end of the tenth week, you were having longer conversations with him.
It was difficult to keep up the small talk with him in the beginning. You soon found out that his lone wolf attitude may had something to do with his awkwardness. You thought, perhaps people weren't willing to work through that, and eventually he just stopped trying.
Such a prospect made you sad, and it only motivated you more to get to know him better. Of course, the longing glances, and standing unnecessarily close to each other with his knuckles barely touching your arm, those things helped too.
There was an undeniable tension between the two of you that you found incredibly difficult to decipher. The way he'd let you catch him looking at you gave it away quite clearly, but the lack of any real initiative confused you.
Had you read it all wrong? Did he even think there was something there too?
Unfortunately, there was no way to find out, as your assignment at the company was coming to an end. Today had been your last day, and tonight is a launch party to officially celebrate the expansion of the company.
You were a little sad to leave the company, especially since you really liked the people working there. It is why you are most excited for tonight.
Wearing a long yellow dress—it is your favorite color—you stride into the building. You are mesmerized by all the balloons and how pretty everyone looks. Wearing expensive suits or classy dresses. You immediately realize you might be a bit too happily dressed; everyone is wearing darker colors.
It does make it easy for everyone to spot you, though. By the time you've gotten your drink, five people have already walked up to you. About half an hour into the party, the CEO of the company takes the stage to give a small speech.
"I would like to thank everyone who has participated in making this expansion go as smoothly as it did. Your work does not go unnoticed." He says through the microphone. Everyone claps for a few seconds, and the man waits to go on until it is quiet again.
"Now, I have a special announcement to make. I have wanted to make this expansion happen since I began working for this company in 1988. Now that I finally have, I feel that my job at this firm is done. And so, I have decided to retire from my position as CEO."
Your eyes widen at the speech; you had no idea this was even a thing. By the sound of the gasps and murmurs traveling through the room, you deduce that the news is unexpected for the rest of the company as well.
"It is also with great pride that I present the new CEO of our company, chosen after careful consideration. If mr. Harry Styles could please join me on stage."
Your mouth falls open at the mention of Harry's name, and you are certain you will never be able to close it again when you see him walking onto the stage. He wears a black suit, perfectly tailored to his body, and the sight of him has you concerned that you may be drooling.
The bald man hands the microphone to Harry, who does not look very pleased to be on stage; it almost seems like he is regretting his decisions. Until his eyes meet yours, that is when you see him let out a breath.
"Thank you, Mr. Johnson." He says, breaking eye contact to look at his former boss.
Right, that was his name, Johnson.
"I look forward to leading this company into more successes, and I promise that I will put my heart and soul into it. I have worked at this firm ever since I graduated college and they offered me a job during my internship, and it is safe to say that I have not regretted that decision a day of my life. I have always been loyal to this company, and I will remain loyal to you. Thank you."
You are perplexed. Why did he never tell you about this? You are very happy for him, but you do find it weird. It also makes you doubt again. Did whatever you had been building up the last months not mean as much to Harry as it did to you?
Well, it doesn't really matter, you're gone after tonight anyway.
Once the shock of the news has calmed down a bit, the party resumes as normal. Most people visit Harry one by one to congratulate him on the position, but you steer clear from him. It is no use, after tonight you will probably never see him again anyway.
Time passes, and you think you're ready to go home. There was a file in the office you forgot to sign earlier today, so you head up to do that first. The office is entirely dark when you walk out of the elevator. It's kind of eerie, so you are quick to turn on the lights.
It takes you a few minutes to find the file, since the receptionist placed it on someone else's desk. You find it on your colleague's desk, and walk over to the receptionist desk to sign it. Laying it on the keyboard of her computer, you pray that she won't displace it again, and make your way back to the elevators.
A loud shriek escapes you when Harry suddenly walks around the corner. He covers his ears at the high pitched sound, shocked by how much he scared you. With your hand on your chest you try and steady your breathing.
"Jesus, you scared the crap out of me."
"Sorry, didn't mean to." He says, a bit of worry in his tone. You look up at him.
"What are you even doing up here?"
"I was looking for you." He shrugs.
"Why?" Your eyebrows furrow, that same old tension in your stomach settling like it does every time Harry looks at you for longer than two seconds.
"You've been avoiding me." He answers casually, and you feel your heart drop. You didn't think he'd catch onto it.
"Congratulations by the way, for being the CEO. That was definitely a surprise." There is a bitterness in your tone. It is Harry's turn to frown. He hears the condescension, but his mind can't seem to come to a conclusion. Why are you angry? It's so hard to tell.
This is why he doesn't do people.
"You're mad that I am CEO?" He guesses, and your mouth falls open, much like it did when Harry's new position got announced.
"What?! Of course not! I'm very happy for you." You sputter out. The last thing you'd want him to think is that you don't want him to be happy or satisfied or successful.
"But you're still avoiding me." He repeats slowly. "You know, I didn't tell you about it because no one was supposed to know. I had to sign for it and everything. It's nothing personal."
The painful grip that his potential distrust in you had on your heart releases at the sound of his words. You could have known that it was due to something like that, you work in HR after all. That fact alone makes you realize how invested you unknowingly had become in Harry.
"I...I figured." You give him a weak smile. Harry's eyes search for yours, holding onto your gaze once he has found it. You stay like that, staring at each other for a while until you break the silence.
"I'm heading home. I don't think I'll see you again, so good luck. I'm sure you'll do wonderfully."
With much difficulty, you manage to look away from Harry and walk past him. At least, you try to, because halfway through, Harry's hand grabs your arm. You stop in your tracks, looking back at the man who stopped you. The man who has been sending you mixed signals for the past few months.
"D– do you want to join me in my office?"
You refrain from the shiver that threatens to run down your entire body, and nod. Harry's hand slides down your arm to your hand, and he intertwines his fingers with yours before he leads you to the glass doors that belong to him. On your way there, he flicks off the lights, leaving the two of you in the dark.
The city lights light up the otherwise pitch dark office that belongs to Harry, for now. He will be moved to the CEO's office when he starts his new position.
You don't say anything as Harry closes the door, or as he walks to the closet and pulls out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. You wait in anticipation of what he's going to do.
But then he sits down. He just sits down on his chair.
You stand there, staring at him, utterly confused about this man and his intentions with you, while he obliviously pours the whiskey into the glasses. In that moment, there is a switch inside of you, one that says: fuck it. This is your last day, you need a way to release this pent up tension, and you probably won't see him ever again after this. What have you got to lose? Nothing.
You walk over to the desk and sit down on it, extremely close to Harry. The split of your dress shows your bare, freshly shaved leg, and he seems to notice. His eyes pull to your legs like magnets, and he has to force himself to look you in the eyes as he hands you the glass of whiskey.
You try your best not to smirk at the effectiveness of your plan, focusing on your next move instead. Straight for the kill.
"So, why am I here, Harry?" You ask nonchalantly, taking a sip of your whiskey. It tastes quite strong, and it takes you a lot of effort not to have an expressive reaction to it.
"What?" He asks, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.
"Why'd you take me here?" You ask again, setting down your glass at the table before moving to stand in front of him. "To admire the view?"
Harry looks out the window, but his head shoots back to you when he notices you're sinking onto your knees in front of him. He thinks he may have forgotten to breathe as he observes the lustful look in your eyes. His eyes travel down to your tits, even more visible from this angle.
"Because I've admired it every day for the past three months." You continue. Harry swallows, frozen by the overload of his brain and the sensitivity of the growing constraint in these pants. "Why don't you take your pants off for me? Just enough to give me your cock. I like you in this suit."
Harry doesn't let another second fly by before he is unbuckling his pants, sliding it down just enough for you to have access to his cock and his balls. Your mouth waters at the size and girth of it, your cunt getting wetter with every passing moment.
You shimmy forward, leaning over his cock and grabbing it with your hand. Harry sighs at the minimal contact, making you feel even more powerful. Looking up at him through your lashes, you ask him one more question.
"You'll hold my hair, won't you?"
With that, you take Harry in your mouth as far as you can, before pulling away from him. A gasp leaves his mouth, and his eyes fall shut as you pump him with your hand while your mouth kisses and sucks on the head of his cock. You begin licking and kissing down his cock, while your hand softly feels up his balls.
Harry feels like he is in heaven already, and he forgets everything around him. It is only when you completely remove yourself from him that he opens his eyes again, and he sees. Catching on quickly, he leans forward and gathers your hair, twisting it around his palm.
Satisfied with Harry's obedience, your mouth attaches itself to his cock again. You take him slowly, teasingly, and move your head up and down. With every movement, you take him an inch deeper.
"Oh, f–fuck!" He groans out when you gag on him because you took yourself too far too fast. You steady your breathing, which is a bit more complicated as you can only breathe out your nose. You resume sucking him off for a bit longer, bobbing your head down a bit faster. The small sounds that leaves Harry's lips, along with his scrunched up face, gives you enough indication that he is approaching his climax.
So you remove your mouth from his cock.
He lets out a whine at the loss of contact. If your panties weren't wet before, they certainly are now. You smile at the state of him; desperate and needy for you. The fact that you've managed to make him fall apart like this makes you incredibly horny.
"I want to take all of you in my mouth, daddy." You tell him, looking up at him with your big eyes. "You'll have to help me."
You went out on a bit of a limb when you decided to call him daddy, but he doesn't seem to mind at all. In fact, Harry's eyes light up and his jaw slacks at the mention of the pet name.
"Shit– anything, sweetheart. Whatever you need." He croaks out.
"I need you to fuck my mouth." You respond sternly, not wasting any time and taking him between your lips again. You push yourself down his cock as far as you can, breathing deeply before moving your hand to Harry's hand, which is holding onto your hair, and pushing your head forward to indicate that he needs to push his cock down your throat.
Again, it doesn't take him long to listen, because Harry's hips thrust forward, his dick gliding into your throat. You moan at the force with which he pushed, and keep your mouth wide open as you let Harry navigate your head.
Once he fully understands that you are allowing him to let him use your mouth, the true fun begins. With the firm grip he has on your head, he pushes you up and down at an ungodly speed. Your jaw is already tiring from its locked position, but you power through it because the sounds that leave Harry's mouth make up for it.
"Fuck baby, such a good mouth. Never had anything like this... Jesus!" He pants out as he begins to thrust up into your mouth, and you feel like you might pass out. Suddenly, he pulls you away from his dick.
You frown, and realize as he is grabbing for a tissue that he is avoiding messing up your face. You don't stand for it, though, and wrap your lips around his cock again just in time for him to come inside your mouth. You take him deeper and feel the way his sperm shoots in the back of your throat.
"Fuck! Shit, shit..." The not so wide arrange of curse words are the only thing Harry is capable of saying as he dumps his load inside your mouth. The fact that you were so adamant about having his sperm in your mouth made his orgasm even more intense.
Your mouth lets go of his cock with an exaggerated plop, and you swallow every last bit of him, grinning at his fucked out face.
"That was... amazing." He sighs, his gaze flicking from your mouth to your eyes. You hum in agreement, and get up from the floor as he pulls up his pants. You are about to walk away, when Harry grabs your wrist.
"Where are you going?"
"Home." You answer with a smile, but Harry's grip on you only tightens. He shakes his head, his lips pouting.
"No, you need to stay. Let me make you feel good too." He protests. You squint your eyes at him.
"I don't need to do anything."
Harry's eyes widen. "You're right. But just let me make you feel good before you go, please? It's the least I can do."
Your mouth slowly forms into a grin, glad to have him where you want. Well, almost.
"Beg me."
Harry scoffs. "Are you serious? I don't really do begging."
You shrug, smiling at him. "That's fine. My vibrator can get me off too."
You take a few steps towards the door, while Harry contemplates his decisions. However, those were all clouded by the sole moment to please you the second you mentioned your vibrator. The image of you getting off like that is too much to bear. He needs to do it for you.
"Stop." He says. You turn around, and walk back to him as he gets out of his chair and gets on his knees. Grabbing your waist, he pulls you closer, his nose digging into your dress. His hands run up and down your legs, and it is making you weak in your knees.
"Please, let me eat you out baby. I'll do anything to make you feel good. I need to taste you so bad, please let me pleasure you."
You swallow, eyelids ready heavy, as you sigh out. "Alright."
Harry grins at your admittance of defeat, and stands up. He leads you to sit on his desk, your dress hiked up. He removes the stuff behind you, so that you can lean back entirely in case you want to, and waltzes over to his chair.
Spreading your legs, he rolls himself closer to you, and assesses your soaking wet panties. Chuckling, he leans to the side and grabs a pair of scissors, before he cuts the skimpy material from your body. You'd say something of it, but the sight of him admiring your pussy like this is too fascinating to interrupt. So, you keep quiet.
When Harry's thumb suddenly presses on your clit and begins to rub it, you can't help but gasp. His touch feels too good, and that blowjob got you really worked up.
"You have no idea how many times I've fantasized about this." Harry says, marveling at how reactive you are being.
"Me too."
His eyebrows rise up. "Yeah? Tell me more, baby."
You bite your lip, too obsessed with the pet name he's given you. It sounds so sexy coming from his mouth. He awaits your response with bright eyes, lazily rubbing your clit.
"Your arms... I'd think about them so much. And your hands, I'd imagine you choking me with them. They're so big..." You begin, and you know that you could go on for hours if you had to tell him about everything you've thought about doing with him, or doing to him.
Harry doesn't say anything, instead responds with two fingers entering your pussy. You moan at the feeling of his large fingers pumping in and out of you. It feels way fuller than your hand already. His two fingers is the equivalent of your three fingers.
"We can definitely make those fantasies come true..." Harry says softly. "But first, let's make you come, hmm?"
You nod, your head falling back and allowing yourself to fully indulge in the pleasure Harry's giving you right now. You let yourself lay on his desk, wrapping your legs around his shoulders.
"Fuck, that feels good– oh fuck!" You shriek out when Harry tongue begins attacking your tongue after he adds a third finger. He speeds up the movements of his hand to match those of his tongue, and holds onto that tempo until your mind can't conjure up any more words to speak to him.
With the control entirely out of your hands, you let Harry guide you to your orgasm, which washes over your body like a tidal wave. You unconsciously push Harry's head further into your pussy with your legs. With an arched back, you moan at the sensitivity of your clit.
Harry lets you take a minute to catch your breath before he pulls on your arms to have you sit up straight. He is smiling sweetly at you, and your heart warms at it.
"You okay?" He asks, kissing your hands. You nod, trying to ignore the flutters in your heart at the way he is being so gentle.
"Thank you for letting me make you feel good, baby." He says, getting up and leaning into your face. His nose brushes against your cheek as he plants his lips on yours. Your arms wrap around Harry's neck as you kiss him deeper, too caught up in how good he feels and how much you want him.
You're never this greedy. You've never felt like you needed a man's cock inside of you. Like it was the only feasible option. You feel it driving you crazy, and you're sure it is the only reason you say— no, ask:
"Please, fuck me."
The grin that forms on Harry's lips makes you feel like you should regret what you said. A grin like that usually belongs on your face in situations like these. But you need him so bad, you don't really care that you are the desperate one this time.
"Oh, you're begging now too, huh?" He says cockily. You glare at him, pissed that he's acknowledging your neediness and mocking you for it too.
"It's alright baby, I'll give it to you. 'M cock's already hard again from watching you come like that. So fucking sexy..." He says. He pulls his pants down and lifts you off the table, turning you around to the glass windows and pushing your hands against them. "Bend over a bit and speak your legs for me, baby."
You do as he says, biting your lip at Harry's hand that pushes away your dress and roams over your ass. He positions his cock at your entrance and pushes himself into you, sighing in pure relief. You shut your eyes tightly at the size of him filling you up.
"Fuck, you feel good baby." He says, slowly beginning to move in and out a bit. You let out a soft 'yes', causing Harry's jaw to clench. He spanks your ass, watching as it bounces from the impact, and his cock twitching at your yelp.
"Perfect fucking ass... perfect fucking girl, aren't you?" He groans, now lazily thrusting into you. He wants to give you time to adjust, but he learns your wishes when you begin to push yourself back into him.
"Ah, I see. Greedy girl wants to speed things up, hmm? Your wish is my command." He mocks, but does speed up his pace. His hands hold your waist as he begins to pound himself into you, your ass shaking at the impact. He spanks your ass again for good measure, obsessed with the way it moves.
You nearly lose yourself in how good it feels, but you know that he can get deeper than this.
"I want to ride you... want to feel you in my tummy." You spit out, hoping he understands what you're saying in your croaky voice.
Harry listens, pulling himself out of you immediately and taking a seat in the chair. You turn around and walk over to him, throwing your legs on both sides of his lap, before grabbing his cock and sinking yourself down on it.
It goes smoother this time, but Harry's really deep now, just like you wanted. The sensation is everything to you, and it isn’t hard to tell how good it feels for him too. Glad to have a bit of the control back, you start to bounce on his cock.
Harry’s eyes travel over your body, fascinated by the way you are moving above him. His hands travel to the straps of your dress and push them down until he can get your tits out of the top part of your dress. He begins to massage them as you keep impaling yourself on his dick over and over again.
"Fuck, daddy, you feel so good... so good for me. Listening to me. Knew this was the best way to fuck you... you love it." You slur happily. Harry nods profusely at your words, jaw clenched and moaning out in pleasure.
"Yes, needed it so bad baby. You're fucking daddy so good..."
You smile at how caught up Harry looks in his pleasure, like he doesn't know what to do with it. You, however, do know what to with it. You grab one of his hands and wrap it around your throat, before you do the same to him. With his hand on your neck and yours on his, you begin to fuck him as fast as you can.
"Ah, fffuck... shit! Holy shit!" He yells out, and automatically thrusts himself up into you, reaching an even further level of deepness you had never thought possible. That along with your hands on each other’s necks, is enough to know that your climaxes are near.
"Come inside me daddy." You pant out, and he does. It is as if your permission set him off. You smile in delight at the feel and knowledge of his cum being so deep inside of you.
You fuck Harry through his orgasm, and even after. He squirms in his seat. "Wait— too sensitive."
"I don't care, I haven't come yet. Don't you want to make me feel good? Have me coming around your thick cock?" You say sensually, and Harry nods. "Words."
"Yes– fuck! I want you to come, please come around my cock. Please, please..." He begins to beg, a tear rolling down his cheek.
Your toes curl at his whiny voice, and soon your juices are gushing all over his cock. Your pussy contracting around him seems to set Harry off even more, as you feel even more sperm spraying out of his dick and into your walls.
You ride out your high until you can't move anymore. You sit there, forehead pressed against Harry's as you both come down from what just happened.
After a minute or two, you decide to pull out. Slowly but surely, you manage to get Harry's dick out of you without hissing too much at the sensitivity of every single body part down there.
You lean against the desk, too wobbly to stand on your own, and you let Harry wipe you clean with the tissues on his desk. After cleaning himself up, he stands up and positions himself in front of you.
"Hey." He says. Your hand cups his jaw and your thumb wipes away the tear that is far down his face now.
"Hi." You tilt your head. The both of you burst out laughing, still surprised by what went down just now.
"That was really good." He says once the laughter has died down. You nod in agreement.
"Good enough for a repeat?"
Harry pretends to think it over, before he responds: "under one condition."
"And what would that be?" You quirk up an eyebrow, intrigued by his vagueness. He smiles at you so wide that you wonder if his mouth might be hurting.
"You let me take you out on a date first."
You roll your eyes, pretending not to be amused as he chuckles at your reaction. But the second you see the look on his face and the sincerity behind it, you realize that he is being quite serious about this request. You bite your lip, wanting to kiss him right then and there.
"I would love that."
2K notes · View notes
ybklix · 6 months ago
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daddy issues
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★ bang chan
✦summary: After the agony for his sexual frustation of living under the same place as you, Bang Chan finally decides to do something to satiate all his deep and dirty fantasies with you, his best friend’s precious daughter.
♡ pairing: richdilf!chan x spoiled!bratty rich fem reader
headcanons: dilf!chan, urdad’sbestfiend!chan ♡ he wore that dilf outfit and leave us fereal like that (me) + one shoot: smut
(i tried my best, not sure if this is how headcanons works heh)
♡ based on my wild thoughts in this post lol
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♡ current warnings: MDNI, smut, daddy kink, dirty talk, teasing, fingering, masturbation, spanking, slapping, oral sex, choking, implied legal age gap (reader in her early 20’s and Chan in his mid 30’s), use of nicknames (some of them degrating), after care, and just chan being rough without mercy🙂‍↕️
note: reader goes by ‘park’ last name but it is only mentioned once for the narrative.
♡ word count: 11.3k
•MASTERLIST• taglist forms for upcoming works or wip♡
—a/n: there you go, happy late father’s day!
playlist: daddy issues by the neighbourhood + be my daddy by lana del rey
yourdad’sbestfriend!chan who since he met you has not stopped fantasizing about the spoiled daughter of his friend and business partner.
dilf!chan who had to go through a horrible divorce and is trying to be the best father for his beloved toddler daughter, going through emotional stress and turning into sexually frustration since he meets you because he hasn't had sex in a long time, and you keep dangerously flirting and teasing him.
yourdad’sbestfriend!chan who wants to put you in your place for being spoiled and at the same time pampered you himself, him thinking that you’ve had everything in your life, except a big dick like his.
yourdad’sbestfriend!chan who finally decides to take you on a fancy date after your fiery flirtations behind your father's back, but proposes to meet his penthouse after a casual event at your parents's house and eventually wait to feel your nice tight pussy wrapped around his cock.
dilf!chan and yourdad’sbestfriend!chan who knows that his friend is a tough guy, demands too much from you and he didn’t give you the sweet treatment and love that a father should give his daughter, so Chan loves to hold you tight in his arms while you act tender and submissive since you could never do it and forced yourself to have a strong personality.
daddy!chan who loves to fuck you hard, ramming rough your tight hole just because you love it too, and ask him to do it hard; but also enjoys sweet fucking you while giving you soft kisses all over your face while praising you gently for moving on his big cock at your soft and tender pace.
daddy issues
He was older than you and was also your father's friend and business partner… yet you could not refuse his request to accompany him to his apartment where, according to him, you could have a nice chat and a better time… your little games of seduction and flirting were not new; you were both captivated by each other when you saw each other for the first time.
You knew Bang Chan, at least only by name, as your father often mentioned him, however you never got to see his face as he was a partner in a company in another country and your father always saw him there, you knew he was significantly younger than your father and that he trusted him a lot… almost considering him as the son he never had. You were an only child so you could say that you were in a way, somewhat spoiled since your father was stupidly rich and you were the only legitimate heir to everything he has and built throughout his life, but still having such a position carries great consequences as the harsh discipline and demands that he always put on you… almost making you mold two personalities; in spite of everything you were kind, a bit cold, but kind, humble and very aware of your surroundings, qualities that Chan noticed and captivated him instantly as well. You were mature but at the same time immature and mischievous, you had a special look for him that only he was able to decipher, you drove him crazy.
You only knew little details about Chan when you didn't know him in person, scattered comments in the air that you listened to vaguely with interest from your father, that Chan is his partner from another country, that he got married a couple of years ago —whose wedding you couldn't attend because of your commitment at the university—, that he had a daughter, that he got divorced and was the one who accompanied your father on the little relaxing vacations he gave himself from time to time; honestly you couldn’t have played it down more, you always thought he was a mature man in a suit looking old. Until you saw him for the first time at a business dinner that you were forced to attend so you would be more related to what your father was doing and working for; you saw him, Chan, near that white door frame, wearing an elegant suit and with a glass in his hand that looked so small when he held it. Your father introduced him, the famous Bang Chan he always talked about and the one and only you usually didn't take the slightest interest in him.
You remember how handsome he looked and the big smile formed on your face as you heard your father say that he would be staying a little over a month to settle matters of their respective companies just in the city and, to your surprise, he would be staying in the small house —not so small, as it could almost be considered as a quite decent and elegant apartment for which many people would pay a great deal of money— near the swimming pool. The timing couldn't have been more perfect for you, you would be home for the academic break and you had Bang nearby, you had him in your sights from the first instant you saw him, his young and manly appearance, serious but relaxed countenance, his exquisite slightly pale skin and his beautiful full lips that you wanted to taste, in addition with an adorable accent, you suddenly found yourself fantasizing strongly about your father's best friend. All that night you couldn't take your eyes off him and… for Bang Chan, the feeling was quite mutual, he really didn't expect a pleasant surprise and a beauty like you from his best friend's daughter.
Your little fleeting games of seduction began without further ado, you noticed for miles the hungry gaze with which his eyes penetrated you; you wore short little skirts when he was supposed to be counseling you in finance, you accidentally caressed his body, you looked at him with sparkling eyes while seductively addressing him as Mr. Bang and you just loved being a little flirtatious around him…. when your father didn't see you, as he would never allow that kind of provocative and revealing attire on you; but you excused yourself with brave, of being a hot summer, and went out swimming in your bikini hoping Chan was watching you. It wasn't news to you, you wanted him so badly, and you were so used to getting everything you wanted.
And for him, of course he was watching you, he did it from the first instant he met you, he knew that you were not a normal kind of girl… Bang Chan always considered himself an observant person who appreciated and noticed every detail, since you met, he noticed the slight gleam in your eyes that grew more and more, your pupils dilating, your weak and fragile body excited to have him near, the feeling was mutual, since a long time ago he had not felt attraction for another woman again after his disastrous divorce and, what he considers, as failure in love, his only true love is his daughter, who is his priority, and his mother.
At first he decided to concentrate, you were a girl younger than him, as far as he knew, still studying at the university, you were not even studying a postgraduate degree; so it seemed absurd to him, you were young, immature and above all, the precious daughter of his best friend and business partner. But the days progressed, tortuous days in the Park's gigantic house, where you kept strutting in front of him like a little whore —or so he thought—, Chan only tensed his jaw, swallowed nervously with his throat dry, thirsty, trying to ignore the dirty thoughts of wanting to take you and put you in your place so you start behaving like the polite and fine lady you should be, carrying with pride such an important last name, but no, you decided to provoke him to the extreme, his blood heating up and fighting with his greatest instinct to not lift the little piece of cloth that would cover your ass, which you called a skirt, and hit your buttocks hard until you cry and lose little consciousness and that the only thing you remember is that you should feel ashamed.
Chan couldn't take it anymore, so after the first week he rented a luxurious penthouse where he would stay for a few nights to clear his mind… and get away from you, because once near you… his body reacted on its own and he was terrified that his instincts would take everything from him. He was stressed, he could not do that to his best friend, he trusted Chan fully and madly, he even confessed to him in such an intimate and vulnerable moment that he would leave in his hands two of his most precious things in life: his legacy and company and his beloved daughter, to advise you and teach you everything you need to know so that you, together with Bang, can take control and continue the legacy. Chan thought ironically if it must have been true when he told him that he would leave you in his hands, since he was dying for you to be in his arms right now.
Days passed and ignoring your immature games, Chan managed to get serious and advise you on company matters; you thought it was boring and expressed to Chan firmly how uninterested you were, to which he annoyingly puffed out his nostrils, thinking, but what a fucking spoiled brat... yet you were curious, competitive and a fast learner, so little by little Chan saw in you your maturity and determination, got to know your serious side and true personality… as if that wasn't enough, he was now more hopelessly interested in you.
After that he was more drowned in a sea of emotions that overwhelmed him more and more, sometimes you were a cute and pretty educated girl willing to learn, sometimes you acted provocatively seducing him and making his poor big cock cry of desperation, he wanted to fuck you hard without stopping, but also kiss you sweetly and take you on a date, he wanted to hear you talk freely about yourself, but he also wanted to leave you breathless while penetrating your delicate pussy. It wasn't until later when in a serious moment you confessed to him that your choice of college career was not something you enjoyed at all, you were doing very well when it came to your grades… but you felt it was only to please your father; Chan was surprised, he knew your dad was tough but he always seemed like a good family guy, but apparently he was not, he was always absent and filled his presence with material things all your life, Chan felt bad and… he remembered his beloved daughter away from him, it seemed wrong but, he thought he didn't want to give her those treats or be absent at any time in her life, but sadly he was thousands of miles away from her, just because of work. You sweetly told him that he still had a chance, since she was only two years old, it's not something like the little girl would remember anyway, that her father had to leave for a little over a month. And in a way you felt bad for yourself and for him... you felt so bad for wanting a man with children and because he had to get divorced because suddenly their relationship didn't work out, even with a child, which left you thinking too much....
Later in the madness of living under the same area, Chan witnessed something he shouldn't have, how your father yelled at you senselessly for partying around like a ‘slut’ when you should take care of your image for the sake of the whole family and that you could have appeared in the media, as well as claiming how you were bothering Bang Chan; since you had gone out to a club like any normal girl your age, frustrated at not getting the man you wanted, you decided to get drunk and text him while you were in that state, to which Chan ran to your rescue without hesitation. He took you home as you insisted and whined over and over about it, and sneaked you to his place, so your father wouldn't see you drunk; and you slept heavily in Chan's bed without realizing it, Chan died of tenderness and took care of you all night; however his help was in vain, the gate keepers and all your father's staff informed him of the situation, that Chan had to pick you up and that they saw you enter his room… making your father angry, not with Chan, but taking out all the anger on you, slapping you.
Chan was as devastated as you were, and ran after you, for the first time, giving you a hug as you cried into his chest. You hated crying, you hated being vulnerable in front of people and allowing them to show emotion in front of them… but with Chan, you were able to release yourself so well into his arms as he stroked your hair, you had forgotten when your last hug was and how warm human companionship can be.
After all that madness in such a short time, countless nights of both of you touching yourselves fantasizing about each other, Chan wanted to put an end to his agony, his heart ached for you and his cock cried so often for not being inside you. He was about to forget everything, to tell your father that he appreciated the stay and lodging at his house, but that he would like to leave for the penthouse he rented, where from there he would leave directly for work and only see you occasionally when you visit your father's company for your quick lessons; but he lost his mind when your father confessed to him that he would like you to date a son of another of his partners, a polite boy four years older than you… that was the straw that broke the camel's back, Chan hadn't realized how privileged he was and didn't take a chance, you were completely single, you didn't see any boy —as far as he knew-—, you barely left your house, so he finally asked you out on a date, a nice romantic date that he tried hard to plan since he knew very little about the city. You had a wonderful time and he couldn't believe it, for the first time in a long time, he was beginning to like and… slightly starting to fall in love with another girl.
Finally, the hot games of seduction and teasing were mutual, escalating into more and more dangerous territory until, Chan could no longer contain himself, he was fed up with so much play and erections in his pants that he had to take them off himself; so one simple Saturday where your father wanted to be a simple man and do things like most average men do to get along, like a barbecue, somehow or other Chan managed to get out of that situation as something suddenly came up for your father… leaving you and Chan alone. But you both knew you were not quite alone, there were eyes everywhere, so he suggested that you stop by to visit his temporary apartment.
You had accepted, your nerves increased with strength, you had not passed with Chan from light friction and dangerous closeness… but to be finally alone, your heart was pounding, you did not believe you had come so far. That Saturday you were exclusively bored, sneaking out a bit to see what your father and Chan were up to, who looked so handsome wearing a slightly baggy pale blue shirt, which showed through a bit underneath so he wore a white sleeveless shirt, blue jeans and simple sneakers… he looked so relaxed and cute. You fantasized about him in all his forms, in a suit acting like a rich and powerful man, the tender Chan hugging you while you cry and comforting you, the Chan best friend of your father who talks animatedly with him, and him casual, just him. You were so eager for him, you even told your best friends that this summer you had to fuck your father's friend, no was not an option, you had to have him.
He drove without another word to his place… you both didn't know what to say but you could feel the tension in the air, it was obvious he wanted to do a couple of not so tender and gentle things with you. You smoothed your skirt nervously as you rode shotgun in the car, luckily you always dolled up to see Chan and ever since that hug he always reminds you how pretty you look, out loud when you’re alone, and in whispers in your ear when people are around.
You entered the place even more nervous with Chan behind you… normally you are not the nervous type of girl, but something about being so close to Chan and what you always longed for made you even tremble.
“It looks nice” you managed to say as you walked into the place, clearing your throat a little.
Chan brazenly watched your silhouette up and down licking his lips, even your voice was driving him crazy, you turned to see him and found his worked and muscular body relaxed, giving you a little smile.
“But why would you rent an apartment if you're supposed to already have a place to stay...” you spoke again, getting closer to him and unable to avoid showing your little cynical and sarcastic side, “is it something rich men do or… is it to have more privacy with the girls you fuck?” your smile got bigger, waiting for a response from him.
But he didn't think it was funny, if only having sex with other women was so simple he would have done it so fast to forget about you, but he couldn't, it was just you, you and you. But Chan decided to relax a little and and match your energy.
“Oh yeah, hundreds of girls I bring here” he added amused, “Honey do you want something to drink…?”
You bit your lower lip, while your cheeks turned red as you heard him sweet talk you, you adored him madly and appreciated his attempt to be nice to you but you couldn't deny that you were incredibly horny, you were even slightly wet already, so you gently rolled your eyes then let out and small sigh, moving closer to Chan, you couldn't contain your body anymore, it was vibrating from all the possible scenarios that you couldn't wait another second for them to happen.
“Why don't you just kiss me already… isn't that what you've always wanted?” you said slowly returning to your seductive tone and took a step closer, almost brushing his lips as you look him suggestively in the eyes.
Chan stood still, incredulous of your boldness and that you wanted to start doing it at once… his breathing started to get irregular, his heart pounding as excited as it had never been before, he was crazy about you, although sometimes, with that cute and tender face you have, he expects you to act like that, tender and innocent, but you are absolutely the opposite, speaking boldly and not afraid to say what you are thinking about. And of course you were like that, at least in sex, not every day you had a man like Chan willing to fuck you, although you knew perfectly well that you could have them all in the palm of your hand, but no one was him, your sweet Channie who without realizing he knows too many private things about you that you fought so hard to keep them and hide, that you always carried with that weight; but you were like that, a bit daring to get what you wanted... but when it comes to feelings and expressing what you feel, that's when you really become the sweet, innocent young woman he slightly desires. But he doesn't mind anyway, knowing every facet of you is a challenge he loves to take.
“Please… Chan” you asked again almost in a whisper, you don't mind showing a little needy side of you to him, even though you were proud, you really wanted him badly.
Chan reacted coming out of his trance and quickly observing the details of your face, he grabbed your waist and finally caught your lips, feeling the same softness of the clouds and rising to a trance so heavenly by your touch, he was dying to kiss you from the first moment he saw you. Chan was slowly moving his expert lips over yours, you were so stunned that you didn't even know where to place your hands so you only left them lightly resting on Chan's chest, feeling the stiffness of his muscular and very well worked body, you couldn't believe it, you were getting too carried away with just simple kisses and your pussy started to throb hard so ready to take Chan's cock if he wanted to do it right now. Chan made you slowly open your mouth, at his torturous, slow and hot pace, with his left hand he held your face and finally the kiss became a little dirtier as he used his slick tongue mercilessly. The act made your pussy throb harder and covered more your panties with your sweet wetness. You took little gasps of air every now and then but Chan never let go of your mouth, you felt so good just kissing him that you slowly lost your sanity and the strength to stand; he gently began to stroke your back with his other hand, so you also wanted to be part of the soft touching while kissing passionately, so you directed your hand towards his cock, surprised to find his dick extremely prominent and erect in his pants, you almost moaned at the thought of how big his cock was erect, you were dying to see his cock completely uncovered. Chan moaned subtly as he felt your daring touch… but something inside him that night wanted to take absolute control of the situation, to give you orders and wanted to see you being a good girl for him, but you started touching him, provoking him more and teasing him just a little, but enough to squeeze your wrist hard with his hand that was previously on your back, pulling it away from his cock and, pulling a little on your hair to get you off his face, away from his lips. Leaving you confused and disoriented as you were extremely lost in his caresses.
“Don't touch until I tell you what to do, babygirl” he warned with a stern and defiant look at you, expecting a sweet nod of your head as you stare into his eyes so needy and submissive.
But it was just the opposite, you were so excited that all you could think about was making him feel good and how cute it would sound as he whimpered your name. You bit your lip, and tried to wiggle out of his grip on your wrist, going back to stroking his erection, ignoring him.
“Shit, but you're so hard and it's so big” you moaned, but quickly the tighter grip on your wrist and in your hair took over, stretching it, it confused you a little and you looked him straight in the eye.
“Why do you always have to do what you want and act like a fucking slut?” he blurted out suddenly with his eyes dark, the vein in his neck slightly exalted and his body full of lust.
You smiled broadly, something about him seeing him angry made you ten times more horny, you loved teasing him so much.
“Then treat me like one” you commented with a cocky grin, almost in an excited sigh, you were so agitated, your body throbbing, your breathing ragged and your heart seeming to want to burst out of your chest, forcefully feeling each beat rumble in your ears, you needed to fuck him desperately.
Chan smiled sideways in disbelief at your request… he was so willing to make you feel good and have a nice unforgettable night, of course he was going to penetrate you till you were breathless, but he would be gentle, ordering you around gently… but you were complicating things too much, suddenly you confessed to him how dirty you wanted the act to be.
“Is that what you want?” he added in a low voice, looking at you expectantly and intimidating you a little for the first time.
You nodded nervously as you felt the pressure of his grips even tighter, causing you a little pain.
“Alright” he replied, still looking intimidating and dominant, he brought his face closer to you, almost brushing your lips and tempting you to kiss him, “Dirty sluts don't deserve sweet kisses on the lips then” he mumbled in your face, pulling even harder on your hair, “They get fucked hard.”
You winced a little but he quickly released you, you couldn't hide your smile hearing him say that, you were so turned on and he hadn't even started touching you, you lowered your gaze to his pants, the protruding bulge in his blue jeans took your breath away, he was also so ecstatic without even starting.
“Take your clothes off now” he ordered you, still with an annoyed tone, but he was too turned on by you provoking him and acting like a spoiled cynic little bitch.
Chan pressed his lips together, licking them and putting his hands on his hips, with bated breath waiting to see the whole show. You looked at him and then lowered your gaze to your clothes, with light trembling hands that you were trying so hard to relax, you removed your top, your bra, your skirt and paused a little at your panties, bent down as you slid from the thin elastic and stared at him, his eyes captured on you, his gaze traveling quickly to every part of your body so as not to miss any detail, you gasped at the sensation of the fabric leaving your pussy and finally you were completely naked for him, smiling smugly at him. Chan couldn't resist, he had to touch you so he quickly drew your body to his, squeezing your ass, making you give a little squeak of surprise, finally, the sensation of his skin clinging to yours, touching you, your cheeks burned again, for so long you had fantasized about being touched and groped by him and now Chan found himself massaging your ass as you feel the friction of all his clothes, and his erection, joined to your naked body.
Chan watched you, your sweet pink lips begging to be treated gently, but you by yourself had decided to be treated like a whore so he would give you exactly the treatment, completely unaware of you and trying to erase the tender thoughts he has of you.
“Even fucking whores should be taught manners once in a while” he mumbled looking down at you from above and tightening his grip on your ass to which you moaned.
Chan carried you with ease, walking a few secluded yards to his living room in his large, soft white couch with its large mirror on the wall above it; he sat down and wrestled you onto his long, strong thighs face down, your lower abdomen feeling the pressure of the rough denim of his jeans, and your breasts brushing against the softness of the couch, leaving your ass in the air at his sight and will. You drew in a shaky breath, stirring uncomfortably from your position, predicting exactly what his next move might be about. Chan dropped his heavy arm on your shoulder blades impeding and bounding your movement a bit, having you just facing your very bounded front view; you felt him gently caress your ass and gently spread it apart to part your folds making you groan. Chan bit his lip at the sight of your wet and slightly swollen little pussy, you were so needy and having you just at his disposal made his cock throb enclosed in his tight pants, it was like his cock had a life of its own when it came to you, only with you he would get hard in seconds at the slightest interaction and that frustrated him madly… so he would finally get even for all the times you misbehaved and left him so needy, for all the times you behaved like a real slut to get his attention.
He inhaled air between his teeth gently shaking his head, thinking he had to, he wanted to see you cry and beg.
“I'm going to give you a little punishment babygirl, for all the times you went around provoking me when I never asked you to, behaving like a fucking slut, you won't count them, I'll spank you until you understand” he said plaintiff.
You sighed half-heartedly and excited, somehow you were so turned on by this foreplay of him acting domineering, of wanting to correct you and, without being able to think anymore, you felt the first strong and loud spank on your ass, your body contracting from the shock and impact, you gasped loudly, it had hurt so much and it was only the first one, but you couldn't help feeling that it was turning you on more, you thought that you would look a little crazy if you cum when he was hitting you, but you couldn't help it, your sensations were at the limit. Chan didn't even let your blood pressure molecules work for your well-being and stability, when he was already spanking you again, this time letting out a little cry and biting your lip hard.
“You have been a very bad girl…” he mentioned almost breathless panting with excitement as he saw your weak body react to the pain, “Very very bad for daddy, when all I wanted was for you to behave well” he spanked you again.
And you didn't know what surprised you more, the hit or that he had suddenly called himself daddy, making your heart pound harder…. daddy, oh my god you thought, he had finally said it, you thought it sounded so hot coming out of his rough voice full of pleasure and that ultimately that dirty fetish suited Chan so well, of which he felt a sexual arousal hearing you say daddy when you meekly and in a high pitched tone referred to your father like that, when clearly it was with a double intention, a random afternoon as you sucked hard on a popsicle while looking him coyly in the eyes. And Chan couldn't deny it felt so good to self-brand himself in that term in the sex act, it came so naturally to him, it made him feel empowered and in control, such a tender and dirty term only when both of you use it.
“Daddy” you moaned in pain and excitement as you felt your fourth spank.
“That's right babygirl, daddy is here to correct you every time you are misbehaving” Chan growled, stretching your hair and spanking you sudden times.
The shuddering sound of his big hand colliding with your destroyed skin made him hornier, Chan spanked you and watched your sweet reaction two seconds and continued to his activity, exciting him uncontrollably, with your body helpless and unwilling to move by his grip and your moans were more than enough, Chan wanted to release his cock once and for all, his balls ached and he could feel his precum drops coming intensely from his choked and pressed tip. You on the other hand were starting to whimper, you kicked hard and with awkward movements you struggled your right hand towards your ass to stop him from beating you, you had forgotten how many he had given you, but you were on the verge, your ass was a fiery red.
“Daddy, please” you whined with your voice trembling and in supplication.
“Please what?” he spoke sharply, releasing his grip on your hair and bringing it to your hand to stop you from impeding his action.
You were practically crying a little and tried to turn to look at him once he stopped leaning against your back, but you couldn't. You were about to answer, as you were feeling your buttocks burning intensely, but you were sore and limp, however before you could say anything you felt two long fingers in your hole, suddenly fucking you and causing your body to react.
“Do you want me to stop, you little slut?” spoke Chan, playing with his fingers at your entrance, dilating it for him, you gasped in response, “You are so fucking wet and all I have done is spank you, do you actually like being treated like a real slut?” Chan bit his bottom lip again as he felt your walls clench his fingers, thinking if this is how tight you are with his fingers he was dying to feel that tightness around his cock.
You were so focused on the shocks of vibration his long digits transmitted to you as you tried to forget the pain in your ass, but you shrunk your body a little with fear as you felt his left hand let go of your arm and started to caress your ass again, you didn't want to be spanked again, you understood it was hot at first but now it just hurt. You were already a mess, you are soaking wet, with your eyes watering and physically weak. Chan got a half smile on his face as he noticed your reaction.
“So have you learned to behave yourself or do you want me to remind you again how painful it can be not to obey daddy? Because I can break that lovely ass of yours again” he commented, almost sighing excitedly the last sentence as he leered at your round red ass with his hand marked on your skin, gently squeezing the damaged area, making you whimper again.
“Yes daddy” you responded quickly and desperately as you resented the violent rhythmic changes of his fingers on your sensitive pussy, “I-I'll be a good girl for you, ahh, fuck daddy” you moaned exquisitely feeling the skill of his fingers exploring your insides as he plunged into the sea of your wetness, grotesquely hearing the sound of your fluids colliding with the movements of his fingers.
You were not thinking clearly, you were so close to your first strong orgasm from the sensation of his fingers alone.
“Watch your pretty mouth, princess” he commanded as he heard you curse.
“S-sorry, daddy” you replied just to please him so he wouldn't spank you again; it felt so satisfying for you to call him that as he had you exploding with pleasure.
Chan removed his right hand from your entrance and with it he began to delicately caress your wet folds as he grabbed your hair again.
“Come here” he ordered you.
You moaned softly as you stopped feeling his touch and struggled to sit up, you slowly raised your body, sitting painfully on one of Chan's thighs, but as soon as you sat down, he gently lifted you off your hips, leaving you sitting on the couch and he quickly stood up. You winced at the sensation of the material of the couch rubbing against your sensitive, bruised bottom, rising uncomfortably pressing your palms into the cushioned couch as you watched Chan's domineering complexion in front of you from the bottom up, the two of you exchanged eye contact, Chan looking up at you haughtily, gently licking his lips as his long fingers went to the button of his pants to unbutton them; your attention was completely diverted, concentrating on the action, you subtly bit your lip, you brought your legs together a bit feeling all the wetness of your pussy and for a moment you forgot your discomfort, your heart raced again just seeing that Chan was starting to undress, you were so excited as if he was unwrapping a gift you were eagerly waiting for, Chan never took off his smug expression and enjoyed seeing the eager reaction of your fragile body; once with his pants unbuttoned, he quickly stripped off all his clothes, he always felt more comfortable naked, plus he could freely do everything with you, he raised his arms, taking off both shirts, pale blue collared and the white sleeveless one he wears underneath, finally revealing his marked abdomen and pecs, you sighed, thinking how well preserved he was for an older man with a daughter and thought about how much you wanted to ride his cock while holding on to his worked body... oh, his cock, you thought in a second, still with your mind a little fuzzy and your vision blurred between desire and your slightly watery eyes. Chan finally took off his jeans, also desperate to be on top of you, you appreciated his big bulge for a few seconds before he finally takes off his underwear, his erect and rigid cock coming out gracefully, so overstimulated and with its notorious tip of a bright pink with details of a brilliant white from his precum. You opened your eyes in amazement analyzing every detail of his member's anatomy… you had never seen such a thing, you always fantasized that it would be big but reality surpassed fiction a little, it was a little bigger than what you projected in your head… it was perfect and looked so appetizing, you didn't miss any detail of his cock, from the base and its pink and slightly tanned testicles, to its entire firm length with protruding veins scattered all over it, it looked so nice and neat, and you started to feel so perky and excited leaving aside the pain in your ass, you were so excited that the slight discomfort was even turning you on more. It was so impressive and big that you wondered how he was able to hide it all this time. Chan saw your tender gaze sparkle at the sight of his big cock.
“You like what you see, honey?” he laughed softly, bringing you out of your shock and making you look him in the face, yes you adored his cock and you hadn't even tasted it, but you loved the person who possessed it more, you wanted to see every expression of your adored Chan when he is already fucking you. You nodded.
He caught your gaze, so lewd and submissive for him as your body trembled slightly and your chest looked heaving breathing hard. Chan was enjoying every damn second of having you. You wanted to get close to him, to start jerking him off because of your seductive nature, but you held back all your urges with almost even physical strength. Chan got down on his knees, fully willing to appreciate the precious pussy that now belonged to him and he would surely destroy later, making his cock move freely at the rough movement making him moan which you loved to hear, you came back to your senses hearing it; Chan spread your legs and appreciated your poor needy cunt, with your entrance slightly dripping.
“But look what a mess you're made of… just for daddy, aren't you precious?” he groaned running his fingertips along your labia.
“Y-yes daddy.”
You gasped, trying to relax your body on the back of the couch and settling your body so that your ass wouldn't hurt so much, Chan was lost in detail all over the structure of your vagina and began to stroke your sensitive clitoral spot, contracting your body a little; for him suddenly his slow process burned inside his body, but he was a true believer of leaving the best to last and in this case it would be finally feeling your tight core hugging his cock. Chan continued to stroke the entire length of your folds without leaving your clitoris alone; you were so frustrated, and excited, the sensation of your orifice getting more and more lubricated was driving you crazy… if you didn't feel filled by his cock in the next five minutes you would start to cry with despair.
“But what a nice, needy pussy, ready to be cared for, do you want daddy to take care of it for you?” he said dirtily spanking your exposed vulva, getting you all worked up.
“Yes, daddy, p-please…” you were about to beg him to fuck you at once, beg him because it wasn't that hard to just stick his cock in you.
But once again your words were interrupted as you once again felt Chan's fingers in you fucking you with agility, making you once again lose your sanity.
Chan brought his hand to his member as his poor sex was also crying out to be attended, but he would never admit it, at least not in this sizzling scenario you both were creating… and he began to masturbate panting while his other hand attended to you. You saw him lustfully biting your lip thinking that you could be the one who could please him, take his cock and make him feel good, he didn't have to do it by himself. He came dangerously close to the center of your labia, feeling his hot breath and his big nose brushing lightly against your genitals, you saw him, confused and expectant that if he came near your pussy it was because he was going to start sucking it but… he just stood there for a few seconds with a naughty little smile on his face.
He stopped masturbating to bring his hand up and play with your labia without missing the delicious rhythm of his fingers on you.
“You want me to eat your pussy, huh, little slut? Do you want to feel my tongue making you scream?” he spoke between sighs in front of your sensitive area.
Your cheeks flushed and you couldn't agree more, you nodded excitedly with your eyes sparkling, but only got a small mocking laugh from Chan in response.
“Well too bad, princess, bad girls don't deserve to have their pussy eaten by daddy.”
You whimpered as you stopped feeling his hot breath near you and from Chan's sudden movements inside you filling your organ.
“Let me help you daddy, I want to touch you too” you mumbled senselessly, closing your eyes tightly so ecstatic to feel something inside your vagina.
“You want to help me huh, yeah? With what, baby?” your whole body collapsed and trembled, you were so close and he knew it.
“L-let me help you with your cock daddy, I want to make you f-feel good too” you babbled, arching your back as you felt you were nothing short of orgasm. “Fuck, I-I'm-gonna cum daddy” you cried out sharply and before you felt the jolt of your orgasm you felt one of Chan's hand on your cheek, slapping you then squeezing your cheeks hard with his hand so you could stare at him.
The slap surprised you but excited you too much once you caught his dark gaze behind his small eyelids.
“I told you not to curse” he spat annoyed without missing the rhythm of his fingers in your pussy, you lowered your gaze to his strong arm whose skin glistened from the lighting of the place and his veins were exalted in his hand working on your hole and folds, you felt him pull again on his strong grip “Look at me” he commanded “You're about to cum, huh, dirty slut?” he gasped seeing your taut complexion struggling for release, and, almost bursting to fill Chan with you, he stopped completely, “Oh honey I would have made you cum but don't forget tonight you are still a dirty whore at my beck and call, you will cum until I tell you to.”
You whimpered, letting out a heavy sigh as you watched him in annoyance and disbelief as he stood up, bringing his big cock closer to your face.
“Come on, didn't you say you were going to try to be a good girl and help me” he groaned inhaling air between his teeth and dropping his heavy right hand on top of your head.
You saw him, lewdly and quickly arranged your body, getting on your knees on the couch and leaning your torso and arching your back to get exactly level with his cock, you licked your lips hungrily and held his long and slightly curved cock, you gasped as you felt its rough but smooth texture in your hands… for a second you thought about getting revenge and leaving him so needy without letting him cum… but your mentality changed as you finally felt him, so erect and rigid and ready for you.
“Can I put it in my mouth daddy?” you asked innocently looking into his eyes as you felt his sex throb after hearing you speak.
“Fuck, yes, babygirl, take it all, show me you can take all of daddy's cock, show me what your dirty little mouth can do” he replied in a gasping whisper stroking your hair.
You smiled and your eyes moved to his manhood, you kissed his tip, covering your lips in his precum and continued to give him soft kisses all along his length as your hands moved down as well, until you reached his base, where your left hand gently caressed and squeezed his balls and you quickly ran your tongue along his erection until you returned again to his tip. You felt every bulge of his veins in your mouth thinking that his cock would become your new favorite plaything. Chan gasped, completely giving in to the sensation of his sex finally being touched and tightened his grip on your hair.
“It's so big daddy” you moaned looking into his eyes as your hands masturbated him, preparing to take him into your mouth.
“It has to go all the way in your pretty mouth slut” he replied watching you from below.
You watched all the way down to his cock from your angle, his strong neck, his protruding pecs and marked abdomen until you reached his clean shaved pubic area detonating small veins until you reached his huge erect manhood, you wanted him to fuck you so hard until it made you forget your name and the only one you can scream and remember is his… but for now, you were going to suck him off so good he would miss the feeling of your warm cavity on his cock.
You moved your tongue circularly on his glans, tasting every part of his salty pre cum combined with your saliva as you tentatively played with his foreskin a little, making Chan whimper, which made your body vibrate with excitement and finally you opened your mouth wide to insert it. Chan let out a little gasp at finally feeling his cock inside something, a cavity as soft and warm and like yours, as he felt his cock finally being surrounded by the wetness of your mouth and the sensation of your naughty tongue that wouldn't stop moving. Chan sighed heavily, closing his eyes and throwing back his head.
“Fuck, babygirl, that's it, keep g-going, don't stop” he gasped encouraging you to move more.
His cock was so big that only half of it fit with effort, the rest of its length you held with your hand, still you took advantage of the stiffness but flexibility of his member, making him explore the inside of your mouth, making Chan tremble as his sighs of excitement came more and more forcefully from his inside, pushing against his abdomen. You felt a tickle in your nose as it watered and became slippery, your whole expression changed, your cheeks rose up to your eyes, bothering you and making them begin to water, however you did not stop and began to move, bobbing your head up and down his length, trying to adapt to his size, and do it at your pace, however pleasure took over Chan and between gasps he began to pull your head penetrating your mouth gently; you moaned breathlessly and with his virility in your cavity, whimpering and releasing tinies mmm's, the liquids of both began to slide out of your mouth; Chan bit his lip at the submissive and helpless image of you with his big member in your mouth as you struggled to keep up and catch your breath, then he looked up, meeting his reflection in the big mirror on the wall, seeing himself with such a pleased expression from you pretty mouth giving it all to satisfy him, Chan thought he couldn't wait to see what a mess you became as he fucked you hard, seeing you both in that damn, big, strategic mirror.
Chan continued to thrust your head, you were so turned on again that your trembling, fumbling hand found its way to your pussy to begin stimulating your clitoris as your mouth grotesquely and sexually filled with your father's best friend's big cock. Chan flicked his tongue, smiled at the sight of you in a mess, your makeup smudged, your eyes watering and your hand struggling to touch yourself… however the last thing did not please him at all, he wanted to keep teasing you and have absolute control of your body, your emotions, your panting, your pleasure, everything must be because he was giving it to you, it all belonged to him. He pulled roughly on your hair, pulling his dick violently out of your mouth splashing your fluids all over your face, his abdomen and onto the couch; Chan without thinking again treated you like a whore, and slapped you again.
“You can't touch yourself, concentrate on my cock, cum like a slut by just sucking my cock if you want, but you are not allowed to touch yourself, today only daddy can touch you” he demanded, leaving your fragile cheek slightly burning with pain.
You looked at him in surprise, and without answering him or being able to take a breath, he reached up again to grab your hair, taking the base of his erection with his hand and directing it back to your mouth where its red tip brushed your wet lips.
“Open up, make me feel good, let daddy cum in that little mouth” he demanded again in a husky voice.
You looked at him, vulnerably with each limb weak and trembling, you opened your mouth and he without warning pushed until you felt his glans touch the bottom of your cavity.
“Daddy is going to fuck your throat, princess, hold on.”
Your body vibrated and your womanhood reacted violently to his warning, you made eye contact with him again, almost begging for mercy as your eyes watered, which only made Chan swell more, he bit his lip and the vein in his neck started to become more and more noticeable, it felt more than good, he was about to cum with an intensity like he had never done before and just from fucking your mouth. Chan rammed you gently and then found a way to slide his cock down your throat as he dug his hands into your hair; you whimpered, out of breath and contracting your body hard, out of air and begging for some, regurgitating as he touched the uvula of your mouth, upsetting your gag reflex, as you held onto his thighs, digging your nails in; Chan cried out in pleasure, reaching so deep until you felt the rough texture of the skin of his balls on your lips, rubbing them into you as he moved subtly, only to pull away quickly as he saw your body convulse for help. You caught your breath and coughed from the earlier sensation of a large intruder in your throat, you brought your hands to your neck… you still smiled at him, it was so fucking hot, you were immobile unable to do anything about his strong grip, fuck, now you loved deepthroating him.
He noticed your cynical reaction, you looked incredibly horny to him, he didn't think you were that kind of girl, all in all a wonderful girl willing to explore every game and open to anything.
“Make me cum” Chan added in a whine, now he almost pleading, releasing his tight grip on your hair and now stroking it. Your smile widened and now you continued at your pace, tasting and enjoying his entire length and testicles, your mouth up and down his cock as you massaged his balls; then running your tongue all over it as if it were your favorite candy.
“Mmm, you taste so good daddy, I love your cock, it's so big, mm” you babbled between his cock, looking into his eyes.
“Yeah?” he said raising his eyebrows and looking at you haughtily, weakening his body so much at every naughty flick of your tongue and strong suction, echoing grotesquely in the room the moans of both of you and the dripping sound of his cock colliding with your mouth and lips, Chan was so close, “Keep going babygirl, fuck, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, all over your fucking mouth, you're doing it so well, what the fuck” Chan babbled feebly.
And Chan ejaculated, inhaling hard air between his teeth and gasping loudly as he closed his eyes as he felt his cum shoot out of his glossy tip, landing on your ready, open tongue. You watched Chan cum, his abdomen contracting as he gasped loudly and you felt like a faithful happy puppy wagging your tail endlessly. You kept stimulating his glans, flicking in small circles as you subtly lubed it and withdrew the semen from your mouth, falling in sticky drips to the couch.
“Fuck” said Chan in exasperation for the last time before pulling his cock away from you.
Chan was hard again, not caring that he had just finished cumming, he was still very well loaded, now ready to fuck you, he leaned towards you, looking at you intimidatingly to which you shrank back coming up against the back of the couch, unsure what his spontaneous move might be now. Chan approached your face and with his thumb he roughly slid the liquids around your mouth, on your chin and under your nose, aggressively doing it even on your lips, then forcing his finger into your warm mouth, you didn't take your eyes off him, once again breathing heavily, you caught his finger and sucked it hard in such an erotic act while appreciating every detail of his handsome face.
“Good girl” he whispered, “Now spread your pretty legs and let me see your pussy to prepare it before I fuck you.”
Once again you came back to all your senses, your body trembled with exaggeration and excitement knowing that he was finally going to fuck you. You leaned back fully and spread your legs again showing him your exposed vulva, still throbbing and a mess from being soaked and moaning softly from your bruised ass. You looked at Chan's full complexion and once again your eyes were lost on his stiff throbbing cock, fearful that perhaps it was going to hurt a little…. Chan didn't hesitate and passed his hard cock rubbing it in your soaked folds while holding it with his hand, you moaned shuddering at the sensation, he was teasing you to the limit, Chan also gasped subtly at the pressure of his cock in your wet warm genital, rubbing it proudly in you, you swallowed, still with your mouth wet and sensitive from his cock in it just a moment ago and plucked up the courage to say to him:
“Fuck me please, daddy, I-I need you, please” you begged as you felt his firmness rubbing hard against your labia.
Chan watched you smugly with a smile as he saw you so needy, your pussy exposed, your makeup ruined and your glossy mouth dirty and your body with little drops of his cum.
“You want my cock so badly, huh?” he mumbled now teasing your entrance, rubbing his tip and rubbing it gently, almost thrusting it in which made you groan as you retained the loud sound biting your lip and enjoying it.
“Mmhuum…” you moaned nodding softly.
You thought Chan was about to fuck you in that position, you were so ready, your orifice dilated desperate for him, but you were surprised when he abruptly grabs your wrist, pulling you up and forcing you to stand, moving your body with ease, putting you on your back to him, you felt so hot from his sudden movement and quickly felt Chan move closer to your body, sticking his erection on your back, he held you by your breasts and whispered hotly in your ear,
“I'm going to fuck my way into you, babygirl.”
You saw the scene in the mirror facing you, half your body exposed and Chan behind you looking at you with desire. Once again your serotonin rose, this time without false hope as you finally felt Chan's cock slide all the way to your entrance, stretching your entire hole making you scream and you felt your whole canal slowly fill to the bottom, with the sensation of Chan's body crashing against yours, he also groaned as he was inside you, with your tight walls choking his swollen cock; you whimpered and arched your back a little, now enjoying it and shifting your hips gently to adapt to his size. Chan saw the sight of his cock buried in your tiny hole, stretching for him and gasped at your subtle movements.
“And you're fucking yourself already huh? Don't move babygirl, I'm gonna be the one fucking you tonight, remember.”
Chan grabbed your hips, pulling your body away and then tackling him, exquisitely sliding his cock into your walls, you both gasped. He meant to be gentle at first, but eventually found his pace as he began to pound you hard, inserting his entire firm length into your tightness, “Fuck” Chan mumbled, looking at your red and slightly bruised ass, as his pelvis and balls pounded you hard. You were so wet that amidst his moans and sound of his skin slapping also came the sound of your wet pussy meeting his cock.
“Fuck, baby, you're so tight, what a fucking tight cunt, so good, baby” Chan whimpered, you were deliciously tight for him which made him feel divine, finally everything he had sighed about so many nights in frustration, wanting to falsely set limits with you, was just now, fucking you hard.
“Fu-, it's huge daddy it hurts but it feels so good” you mumbled as you were rammed hard with your voice cracking between each stroke he gave you.
Chan grabbed your arms now, holding you still and doing what he wanted with your body, deliberately pounding you with his big cock, enjoying every inch of you until he reached your cervix hitting it hard. He stretched your body, pulling it together with his, making the thrusts deeper, almost vigorously moving your guts, feeling the bulge of his cock protrude into your belly; Chan wrapped his right arm around your chest and neck, headlocking you softly, while his left hand went down to your clitoris, caressing, you trembled and moaned at the same time, you were losing strength as you were extremely filled with pleasure and literally filled, physically by Chan's cock, you saw his glowing big arm wrap around you, smelling his sweet scent as he gently brushed your chin, he put his head close to your ear and whispered dominant:
“Look how I fuck you, huh, is that how you like it little slut?”
You gasped breathlessly, and looked up to see your humiliatingly weak body and your expression of pleasure in the mirror, ecstatic at your insides being destroyed. Chan was also beginning to tremble, he was so empowered but at the same time weak, he had cum intensely before and your walls were sucking his cock heavenly; so in one swift movement, he sat down on the couch, without getting out of you, giving you a better sensation of his balls rubbing against your pussy and his smooth, marked skin of his abs touching your back; you whimpered at the sudden motion, as your buttocks were still sensitive, Chan continued to hold you by the neck, ramming you hard bringing him closer and closer to his glorious second orgasm. Once again he stroked your sensitive spot on your pussy and positioned his face next to yours, so you heard every hot and needy whimper of your secret lover, every sigh and exasperated moan, being music to your ears.
“Look at you, taking my cock so well into that soaked tight pussy, don't you love when daddy fucks you hard, sweetie?”
You gasped raggedly, “Yes, daddy, I love it”, but your body quivered harder, finally so close to your orgasm.
“Fitting my cock in your tight hole like a fucking slut, god, you feel so good” Chan whimpered at the sensation of his swollen cock shrinking, struggling to enter you fully, destroying you so heavenly, while Chan held back the urge to kiss you dirtyly.
He accelerated his movements, both of on your clitoris and his thrusts, lifting his hips harder, pounding you hard.
“Oh, daddy, I'm going to cum, can I cum?” you whimpered shuddering almost on the edge, you had held back so many orgasms you were about to burst.
“Go ahead princess, cum on my cock, isn't that what you always wanted?”
Chan groaned, smelling strongly the scent of your hair and moved his arm, now only to his hand, placed on your neck and beginning to choke you. You felt his strong grip, shortness of breath and your heart pounding intensely as your pussy kept being rammed, you brought your hands to his at your neck, feeling every exalted vein of his bony upper limb with your sight blurring completely, you whimpered loudly for the last time and unloaded into him, relaxing the tension in your muscles and releasing all your sweet cum.
“Fuck” grunted Chan as he became aware of your warm cum wrapping around his dick, and his grip on you gradually became less tight, “I'm gonna fucking cum inside of you, babygirl, oh, fuck, fuck” he whined and he continued ramming you until he cummed hard inside of you.
You drop your completely tired and yielding body on Chan's chest, both of you with heaving breaths. Chan lift you up a little from his length to witness the obscene scene of your tired cunt and wide open hole with his cock inside, so needy and twitching while spilling out your sweet cum coating his cock, sliding down reaching his balls. He smiled incredulously and proudly, after he promised himself that he wouldn't touch his friend's beloved daughter…
“Fuck, babygirl, that was great” commented Chan breathlessly with a sweeter tone as he gently fondled your breasts, “Come here and kiss me” he asked sweetly.
You were shaken, your vision blurred and throbbing from such an intense orgasm, yet you gave your all to turn your body and join your lips with Chan's, you loved being fucked by him, but all the time you missed the feel of his soft lips. Chan kissed you sweetly, playing with your nipples, an act of which if he kept doing there was no doubt you could become aroused again.
“Maybe next time I'll fuck you gentler, okay? Forgive me if I was too rough, princess, was I?” he whispered tenderly, softening his gaze to a cuter one in seconds.
You softly denied looking at him tenderly, “No, daddy, I loved it… but I would also love it if you fuck me gently next time” you smiled shyly at him.
Chan found your tired face adorable, your cheeks red, still so flustered trying to calm you down, he smiled back and released your tits to let his hands rest on your thighs, caressing them and placed a soft sounding kiss on your shoulder and said:
“Do you want to stay on my cock for a while or…?”
“Oh, I'm sorry” you interrupted him opening your eyes in surprise not realizing that maybe he wanted to be done, which he laughed softly at your reaction, narrowing his eyes and stretching his nose a little.
However that wasn't his intention, Chan didn't care, he also refused to get out of you, to feel you from him, he just wanted to know if you would stay longer to get into his totally tender mode and not get hard inside you.
“You want me to clean you up? Geez you've made a mess, beautiful.”
You denied again embarrassed.
“No, no, can I go to the bathroom?”
“You'll clean yourself up like a big girl” he continued playfully.
To which you provocatively and innocently replied, “Yes, may I daddy?”
Chan let out a giggle and nodded, stroking your back, “Would you like some dinner, princess? It's late, will you stay here?”
You nodded blushing, “Yes that's fine and… I guess I can say I went to stay with a friend.”
Chan smiled, “Won't it be very suspicious that we left together and absent at the same time?”
“Like if my dad would care” you replied, a little annoyed.
“I think he will mind if he finds out that it's me corrupting his sweet daughter…” snapped Chan.
You moved closer to his face and with a big mischievous smile you whispered, "Then let's always keep it a secret" you kissed him quickly.
That caused a reaction in Chan, again you and your subtle seduction games but you stood up, sliding his cock one last time and it falling gracefully again close to its owner, causing him to let out a soft moan as he still saw how soaked both sexes were joined together.
“Where is the bathroom…?” you asked, uncomfortable, looking for your clothes to cover yourself as you didn't want to walk around naked like one without shame.
He watched you tenderly as he noticed you, “Down this hallway to the bottom right” he answered you, reaching down to get his blue shirt, “Here, babygirl, put it on.”
You smiled shyly at him and put on his shirt of which was of little helpless as your body was see-through in it, he looked at you more tenderly as he saw how huge it looked on you and you walked shyly to the bathroom.
Chan got up, cleaned up and tidied the mess a bit, ordered dinner and tried to find something comfortable for you… but none of his clothes weren't going to fit you. You came out of the bathroom and looked for Chan until you found him near the TV in his living room trying to put something on, looking like a real dad looking for what to watch on TV, you approached him with a smile and hugged him to which he immediately reciprocated.
“I tried to find something for you, but I don't think my clothes fit you, but don't worry beautiful, I put your underwear in the washer so you'll be comfortable.”
You lifted your face and looked at him sweetly, “I guess I have to stay like this, with nothing in my pussy for a while” you commented, playfully.
“It doesn't have to be so alone, your pussy if that's what you want” Chan whispered, sliding his hand suddenly and with his fingertips caressing your exposed folds.
You moaned, your eyes began to darken and your pupils to dilate. Chan let out a giggle and withdrew his hand, he was just teasing you a little.
“I ordered us sushi, okay? Wanna watch a movie?” he said still with a slightly teasing expression, to place a soft kiss on your forehead.
But Chan knew damn well you'd never end up paying attention to the stupid movie anyway, he still wanted you so bad.
₊˚⊹♡ bonus imagine:
Video you take of your new secret lover, in your hidden encounters in his apartment; him looking so relaxed and handsome in his black sleeveless shirt as the two of you make out passionately, waiting for the situation to escalate to something more fiery, exciting you so slowly and exquisitely as you feel his lips, but suddenly an important call interrupts you, Chan has to take it, telling you that all his attention will be on you in an instant, so fast as soon as he finishes an important issue and he turns on the bed to grab his phone so he stays positioned with his abdomen pressed against the bed. You frustrated and a little annoyed you get up from the bed and grab your phone which is on the other side of the room, but you came across a Chan so tender and focused on what he was doing so you couldn't help but take a video of him, to which he promptly notices and reacts in a sweet way.
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(i had to made it a gif cause the video glitched the post)
The kind of selfies he sends you when you're not together because he had to go back to his city, followed by a: I miss you so much
I've been thinking about you so much, I can't wait to see you on friday, my princess❤️
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𐙚TAGLIST: @rylea08 @hann1bee @iovecb97
1K notes · View notes
jaylver · 8 months ago
Text
WEBS OF HURT — S.JY
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synopsis: Falling for your best friend wasn't on your check list for high school. As if that wasn't enough to break your heart, his odd behaviour only added fuel to the fire along with a new crush of his. Who knew that odd behaviour would soon turn into a secret truth that you'd discover after his valiant effort of hiding.
pairings: spiderman!jake x afab!reader
genre: best friends to lovers, unrequited love, miscommunications, spiderman au, angst, romance, fluff
warning(s): profanities, mentions of alcohol, party, violence, injury
wc: 10k
a/n: tried something new! a little birthday gift from me <3 please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx
masterlist | © jaylver all rights reserved.
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Falling in love with your guy best friend was probably the worst thing ever to experience when it came to girlhood.
High school should be fun, right? Being a teenager should be fun, right? Well, that wasn't exactly the case when you found yourself feeling more than just a mere liking towards Jake Sim, the guy best friend you mentioned and was entirely, love sickeningly, in love with. 
Jake Sim was the first guy you actually built a solid friendship with. It first started when he sat beside you in calculus, then you realised you had more classes with him and a friendship eventually developed when you started acknowledging each other. One class together soon turned into years spent with one another. You knew his family and he knew yours. Nothing could ever break the bond between you and him.
You just couldn't help but notice a slight change in him after the death of his uncle, Ben. At first, you figured it might've been grief, trying your best to offer your utmost support. But as months flew by, the oddness persisted. He would disappear in between classes, sometimes standing you up at places you were at together and returning a little scathed, making it up to you by promising for a redo hang out. All of that was weird. Let's not get started on the fact he caught your stuff falling way too many times, even when his head was faced away, his hand would reach out first. In his words, he called it his 'spidey sense', whatever that meant.
However, you never doubted him. He was still the best friend you had, even if he had some tweaks to him. You never once questioned him or brought up your suspicions, but this time, you couldn't help yourself from bombarding him with questions when he broke the news to you.
"I think I have a crush," Jake announced the moment he was in your presence, sounding a little out of breath considering he made a run to the cafeteria. The tray of food was untouched, quite unlike him since he always dug into his food first.
"You 'think'?" You hummed, ignoring the mixed feelings you had blaring loudly. 
"Okay, I know I have a crush," he has yet to start eating, just staring expectantly at you, eyebrows furrowed at the nonchalant and dismissiveness in your tone. 
"You're being for real?" You finally turned your head to meet his eyes, placing your fork down. 
"I am! I think it's kinda crazy," his eyes twinkled, something quite rare but only you knew, like a comet in the sky. 
"Who is it?"
"Gwen,"
"Gwen? Gwen Stacy?" You swallowed back a frown that was itching to make its way to your lips, masking it with your best shot of shock instead of disappointment. Of course it was the golden girl, what a cliche plot.
He nodded, a small smile rested on his face as he started digging into his food. "We … talked? Talked about some science things, about Oscorp, about the things she's working on. Oh yeah, she said there's this party on Saturday and wondered if I wanted to go, I said I wanted to bring a friend and she's cool with it,"
"I assume I'm that friend, then?" You poked at your food, suddenly losing your appetite as the conversation progressed.
"No, it's Carlos—of course it's you, dumbass," he flicked at your forehead, earning a firm scowl from you. "You're my best friend, my only ever, I'd be insane to think otherwise,"
You chewed at your lips, not because you were contemplating whether you should or shouldn't go, but it was mainly due to the word 'best friend' that got your attention. There goes your hope down the drain. First, being told your best friend who you have a crush on already has his eyes on someone else, then, getting friendzoned by that same exact guy, all in one shot. It's brutal out here.
"So what do you say?" Jake's voice broke the momentary silence, noticing your dazed expression. You snapped out of it almost immediately.
"I'll go,"
"Really?"
"Do you want me to say no instead ���?" You raised an eyebrow, watching him scrambling at your words.
"N–no! I'm just shocked and very glad you agreed to come," he managed a laugh, which turned into a smile. 
"Am I going to get ditched that night because you want to get your dick wet?"
Jake scrunched his face up in a look of disgust. "Can you not? I don't need you to say that. And no, I'm not going to ditch you,"
"I'm holding you to it."
Jake shot you a wink, earning a figuratively loud eye roll from you. His laughter filled your ears, and though you managed a smile, you found yourself feeling the opposite internally. You knew you shouldn't feel this way, it's not like you were even in a relationship with him in the first place. But God, why did it hurt so bad?
Who told you friends to lovers was cool when it was unrequited and one sided all along.
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"You know, you look good either way,"
Jake Sim was sitting on the edge of your bed watching you put on makeup and getting ready. It was a few hours before the party and Jake had turned up looking nervous, wearing that lucky graphic tee of his that you recognised quickly. Your teasing definitely didn't make him smile, and you soon realised that the crush he had was actually serious.
You glanced at him, raising an eyebrow despite feeling the giddiness from the effects of his nonchalant words. He has to stop that. "Are you trying to butter me up to get me to move quicker?"
"Whaaat? No way. You genuinely look good whether or not you have makeup on, seriously," he was genuine, you could tell, but you knew him better than anything. It was quite a fatal flaw.
"Give me ten minutes to finish the other eye then we can leave."
At that, Jake sighed in relief and fell back onto your bed, kicking his legs patiently. He couldn't stop talking about the party and the people who'd be there, but honestly, you could tell he was just trying to not bring up Gwen at any given moment. Knowing that, you wished the mascara wand would just poke into your eye, maybe it'd hurt less compared to how your heart felt.
"Does my shirt look lame—"
"Dude, shut up," just before you and Jake entered the house, he was asking for another reassurance. First, it was his hair, then his shoes, and every other piece of clothing, leaving his shirt for last. It took everything in you to not punch him along the way there. "I swear, no one will care. If anything, isn't that your lucky shirt?"
"It is my lucky shirt. But whether or not that lucky shirt looks good, that's the case," he glanced down at his graphic shirt, a picture of a rock band from the 2000s staring back at him.
"Trust me, if it's ugly, I would've asked you to change, now shut up and get your ass in there before I leave you here," you huffed and continued walking, hearing him mutter something before catching up with you. 
Upon entering the house, you figured it was as underwhelming as you expected. The smell of sweat and flavoured smoke filled the air, high school students lingered around as the music blasted. You should've probably stayed home.
"So, you got your pick up lines ready?" You thrusted a cup of fruit punch into his hands, tilting your head in question. 
Jake rolled his eyes. "I'm afraid Google has failed me on that one," he looked around the room, shoulders tense.
"Calm down, big guy. You're acting like you're being hunted down. She's not that scary," you patted his shoulders as he took a swig out of his cup.
"Not scary? Says the one without a crush,"
How ironic.
You brushed it off, finding yourself taking a big gulp as well. He was oblivious and you were just stupid. Stupidly in love with your best friend who has his eyes set on another girl. Perfect.
"I think I see her," you followed his line of sight, spotting a blonde in the midst of the crowd almost immediately. She made her way through, parting the mass with a certain grace to her aura. 
Jake looked back at you, a mix of conflict written in his features. You read him well, too well. You offered a smile. "Go, go talk to her. Just text me when you're leaving, okay? You said you're not going to ditch me,"
"I won't," he laughed, but there was a certainty in his tone. 
"Then go, what are you waiting for? I'm expecting a whole loads of information by the end of the night," you gave him a slight push, but you could see the small reluctance he had. "Go!" Off he went into the crowds and gravitated towards her. 
You couldn't bear to witness it all, watching him leaning down as she laughed into his ear. The feeling of bitter jealously coursed through your veins, it was evil, so evil, but you couldn't help it. At the end, you had to remind yourself, he wasn't yours in the first place. He wasn't yours to lose.
Turning your back to them, you sat alone in a stranger's kitchen and fought off the temptation of getting drunk. Instead, you indulged in the leftover pizzas left on the counter, letting a random girl join you and overshare secrets. Wallowing in self pity was probably not what you had in store for the night.
Almost as fast as you had arrived, it was already past midnight in a blink of an eye. You realised your curfew was around the corner and it was time to signal Jake to leave too. Glancing at your phone, you were surprised to see zero messages from your best friend. Weird.
You stepped out of the kitchen and into the living room, seeing a bunch of people passed out at the oddest spots, only a few still awake. One of them was surprisingly Gwen, the goody two shoes you had in mind was actually staying up past your curfew. You heaved a distressed yet exasperated sigh, walking towards her. 
"Hey, Gwen," you hoped she remembered you, considering you were in the same Chemistry class as her.
"Oh, hey. Y/N, right?" She flashed you a sweet smile, and it was painful to know how likeable and nice she was. You couldn't even bring yourself to hate her. 
"Right. Sorry for interrupting, but have you seen Jake around? The last time I saw him was with you," you unknowingly chewed on your bottom lip anxiously, taking the frown on her lips as a bad sign.
"He left," that was the least expected thing you anticipated as a response.
"He … left?" You repeated incredulously, almost as if she hadn't made it clear enough for you.
"Yeah, he suddenly said he needed to leave … in the middle of our conversation. An emergency or something. Kinda weird but kinda cute," she laughed, but you were holding back a disdainful scowl, reserved for both Jake and her, but most specifically Jake Sim. "Why? Were you with him?"
You bit back an immediate reply. As much as you wanted to say 'yes', you didn't want to blow off his chance either. "No, just … checking. He said he was coming tonight,"
"Oh, I see," 
"Yeah," you nodded rather stiffly and awkwardly. "I'll get going now, thanks,"
"See ya, Y/N. Until our next class," she gave you a salute, a melodious laugh escaping her lips.
You couldn't resist a smile either, saluting her back. There was a charm to her that affected people, it was understandable that Jake was charmed, but you hated to know that, and you did not want to understand it. For now, he was dead to you, just like how he has left you to yourself in the middle of a party at midnight. Was he Cinderella? Glad to know you weren't the only one who he pulled the disappearing act on. 
Clutching onto your jacket tight, you cursed every cuss words there were under your breath, all of which were dedicated to Jake. He had the audacity to leave without even leaving you a text, and that got you walking home in the dangerous night of New York City. Thanks a fucking lot. To say you were seething was an understatement.
You hated the streets of New York especially at night. To prove your hatred further, you just had to be at threat of an armed robbery there and then. 
"Hey! You there!" A dark figure approached from a distance, pointing at you. Oh God. "Got some money on you?" This couldn't be happening. 
"N–no," you said quietly, backing up quickly. His footsteps thundered loudly against the pavement, seemingly getting closer. 
"Don't lie, I see that purse on you,"
"I'm a broke high school student, leave me alone!" Was it sad to say that you were yelling the brutal truth to him?
"I don't care. Give me your purse—" his threat almost had you running in the opposite direction, but his sentence was never finished. Instead, a sharp unfamiliar noise shot through the silence, and a second figure in the distance appeared. That wasn't his partner, right?
Panic coursed through you, and yelling out was most likely the worst idea you had in ages. "Hello?" 
Silence. 
"Hello? Can I leave now?" 
"Yeah, you can," the figure walked under the lamp post, revealing himself. 
Spiderman? 
Clad in red and a mask over his head, he stepped towards you ever so casually, whereas you stood there absolutely stunned to even move. It wasn't an everyday occurance where you could personally meet the hero in flesh. The media might've painted him as some criminal, but to you and many other citizens, you knew that wasn't the truth.
"Spiderman," you greeted, anxiety lowered knowing you weren't getting robbed now. "Thanks for—that," you waved in the direction of where the man originally was.
"No worries," you noticed his voice seemed familiar, but before you could think more about it, he spoke with a sudden deeper octave. "It's—uh—not safe out here. What are you doing here anyway?"
"Well, for starters, my friend left me at a party that we were supposed to leave together without telling me, and now I'm walking home alone, until I almost got robbed," it was clear that anger and bitterness laced your voice, a deep frown etched on your face as you told Spiderman your concerns.
"Sorry," his voice became lighter, somehow sincere, which made you tilt your head in question. "I–I mean, sorry that he did that to you," he cleared his throat, straightening his spine and returning back to that deep voice. 
"I don't know what's up with him. He could've left me a text," 
He muttered something inaudible under his breath, then turned his focus back on you. "I'm sure he's very sorry, and maybe he's got a reason too. Try hearing him out,"
"I will. I always do. I'm just hurt, it's complicated," 
"What? What do you mean complicated?"
You shrugged, hugging your purse close to your chest. "It's nothing. I don't think Spiderman will be interested in my matters with my best friend. I'll leave you to your hero stuff and head home now. Thanks for saving me and the 20 dollars in my wallet,"
"Well—I—wait," before you could fully turn around and leave, his hand landed on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. "Let me walk you home. It's not safe,"
"Wouldn't it be weird if I turned up at my apartment lobby with Spiderman?" You crossed your arm, making quite a fair point. 
"You're right. What about I give you a swing?"
"What?"
Swinging around New York City was definitely an unforgettable but scary experience. You clung onto Spiderman, screaming like a madwoman as he had his arm wrapped around your waist. The touch was as familiar as his voice, hard to put a finger on but almost feeling like you've known him for years. 
You were about to point out your apartment but he had already beat you to it, not even needing you to tell you which floor or window it was, landing on the fire escape right in front of your bedroom window. That just further proved your familiarity towards him. 
He pulled your window open, signalling you to head in, but you were stuck staring at him, both in shock from the swing and the way he knew your place. 
"How did you—"
"Bye! Goodnight!"
You watched as he avoided your question and shot a web out to swing to some other building, leaving you stunned. How were you going to recover from this?
10/10 experience. Spiderman might just be your casual crush to get away from the thoughts of Jake. 
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'BREAKING NEWS: bank robbery in downtown last night caused a chaotic and frantic disturbance, luckily, Spiderman was there to save the day and catch the robbers before anything major happened. Is he really as bad as they make him to be?'
The news of Spiderman saving a bank from a robbery right before your personal near robbery experience had you amused. The videos of him beating up the robbers and using his webs to tie them up were going viral all over the internet, even people in school were talking about it.
You were standing at your locker, digging for some textbooks before class started when Jake Sim himself appeared beside you. His presence was announced before he even spoke, but you didn't bother to spare him a glance.
"Y/N, I'm so so sorry about last night," he was heaving in breaths, as if he had ran across the school to find you, maybe he did.
"Oh, were you?" You clicked your tongue, suddenly finding the random piece of paper in your locker fascinating. 
"I am. Seriously, Y/N. I know I'm an asshole for that, I'm sorry for not texting you earlier and letting you know—"
"Jake, this isn't the first time you bailed on me," you cut him off, slamming your locker door close and turning to face him. The bruise beside his right eye caught your attention, and suddenly, your anger seemed to have sizzled away. "What the hell happened to your eye?"
It has become a common practice by now apparently. Jake disappearing and turning up with some kind of injury. Like always, he just brushed you off. "It's nothing, don't worry. It's not about me, it's about you. I fucked up this time and I know it, I'm sorry. An emergency with Aunt May came up a–and I had to go home early, I was too caught up in the moment to let you know. I'm sorry, really,"
You considered his apology for a moment. He was sincere, you knew that, but there was a certain dishonesty to his explanation. However, you didn't want to press on further either. "I understand. You probably always have a reason, it's just that I hate it when you disappear on me without telling me. I almost got robbed last night!"
It took him almost a few seconds to register, then another few more to compute a reaction. "What? Are you okay?"
"I'm standing here, aren't I? Spiderman saved my ass," 
"Spiderman?"
"Yeah, Spiderman. That guy who swings around New York. He saved me from some guy that was about rob me, because someone over here decided to leave early,"
"I'm sorry, okay? I'm just glad you're alright," 
"Well, thank fuck I am," you crossed your arms, staring pointedly at Jake. 
He dug something out of his backpack, a paper bag of some sort materialized in his hand. "I got you some of your favourite cookies and donuts. As a form of apology,"
You took the bag from him, glancing between him and it. "You can't just buy your way into an apology,"
"You accepted it, you took the bag," 
You rolled your eyes, unable to bite back. "Whatever," you reached in for a cookie and started walking away from your locker, hearing Jake scurrying to join your side.
"So, we're cool?"
You took a brief glance at him, taking a bite out of your cookie. "We are,"
Jake wasn't fully convinced, however. He knew you and your patterns, and he definitely knew which tricks to pull to make it better. "How about I treat you to some Chinese food tonight?"
That piqued your interest, an eyebrow raised at his question. "The one downtown?"
"That one,"
"You sure know how to get on my good side, Sim," you nudged his side, falling into one of his tricks once again. "Too well,"
"I know my ways to get to your heart, don't underestimate me," he said in a lighthearted tone, but God, you wished he would actually find his way into your heart. "Anyway, how was—uh—Spiderman, last night? Excusing your near robbery experience," he winced at the last part, though in reality, the accident hadn't shaken you as much as he had thought.
"He was nice! A little awkward but I kinda get it. He swung me back to my place, which was weird because he knew which window and level it was," you pursed your lips in deep thought, failed to realise the widened eyes from Jake and the panic that filled them.
"M–maybe, it was a wild guess," he said shakily.
"Wild guess? Don't bullshit me, Sim. A smart guy like you would know it's hard to do so," you waved him off, continuing to venture into your theories.
"Maybe he has some kind of sixth sense," he laughed rather stiffly, earning a suspicious narrowed stare from you. 
"Okay, big head, quit acting so weird. Let's just get calculus over with and then stop by that ice cream place after school, what do you say?" 
Jake's shoulders visibly relaxed, a sense of relief overtook his features. What was that about? "Sure. My treat,"
"God, Sim, you have to stop treating me or else I'll fall in love with you," you joked, even as it came out lighthearted, it was filled with a painful truth that you kept as a secret.
"Then fall in love with me."
You froze, almost unblinking. Something so intimate yet controversial had left his lips like it was nothing. It was probably nothing to him, maybe a mere joke even, considering how he let out a small laugh and smiled at your reaction. You tried to pretend it was nothing, but it wasn't nothing, not to you. 
For a second, you wished you weren't already in love with Jake.
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Trying to be happy for your best friend shouldn't be hard, but why were you struggling with it so much?
First, you were literally in love with him. Yes, you've come to the conclusion that you 'L' word him, the big 'L'. Seeing him list out the things Gwen likes and hates reminded you of yourself knowing him equally that much too, which only pained you more than it reassured you. Second, he has been hanging out with her more. Not that you were completely friendless and have no one to hang with, but Jake was Jake, he was your best friend, and losing your best friend was the worst thing to happen. 
You didn't lose him, no, but it felt like you had. He barely made time for you, being caught up with Gwen, dates and school work, how could he not manage to squeeze you in there? You've always made time for him no matter what the occasion was, so knowing he didn't do the same for you just had you dying internally. 
It was a quiet evening in New York. The sun had just set and you were walking home from grabbing an early dinner alone. This time around, you were smarter than the previous round. Armed with pepper spray and a pocket knife, you prayed on a shooting star that an unfortunate incident would never ever happen once more. 
You were practically in your own world to even realise or hear footsteps approaching you from behind. By the time you did, your fight or flight mode was activated, almost throwing out a punch, just to freeze upon figuring out who it actually was. Spiderman.
"Walking home alone?" He kept up with your pace as you recovered from a momentary fright.
"Stalking me?" You wondered how he even spotted you in the first place. In the big city of New York, he's coincidentally strolling down the same street as you? As if. "Scared me, you know? Thought it was another round of getting robbed,"
"I'd be there to fight them off if that happens," he said with utmost confidence that it had you laughing a little, shaking your head in disbelief. Why did he remind you of Jake? It's a sign you should stop thinking so much about him.
"Really? I kinda doubt it. Unless you're keeping an eye on me or something, stalker," you teased him, egging him on further. 
"I'm not stalking you," his tone gave away the withering confidence of his. You smiled, feeling his lingering gaze on your face. Maybe it was just your mind that's overthinking, but his mannerisms reminded you too much of your best friend. It was in the way he walked, talked and how he normally did this thing where he walked with you and cast glances at you from time to time. Every little detail that you wished you couldn't list out was a part of the city's hero. 
He cleared his throat, straightening his back, trying to rebuild that confidence he originally carried. "So … how are things between you and your friend?"
"The one that stood me up at the party?"
He choked a little, but regardless, he nodded his head. "Y–yeah,"
You couldn't hold in a sigh from escaping your lips. Just thinking about Jake had you huffing in frustration. Spiderman picked up on it, shifting slightly beside you. "I guess not … good? Haven't seen him much and he hasn't been bothering to hang out with me anymore. I mean, I get he's making moves but why can't he just manage a little time for me? Maybe I'm too selfish but—" he's not mine anyway. You bite your tongue, holding back what you really wanted to say. 
The hero beside you was silent for a bit, as if walking on eggshells and picking the best words to say. "I think he'd come around," he said slowly, "he'd say a couple of sorrys, and you should tell him what's on your mind. Let him know. He'll understand," 
You chewed on your bottom lips, considering the possibilities, but totally also not expecting to get advice from the Spiderman like it was some counselling session. "I know he'll listen. He always does. But I don't want anything to change between us,"
"Nothing will change," he said with a kind of certainty that even you didn't doubt. How did he know? Who was he to judge? You didn't say anything, but just nodded. You knew Jake wasn't the type to argue nor take your words lightly, but you shudder at the thought of a confrontation, not that it was your first with him, but it felt much more emotional this time.
"I hope so. I miss him—oh, my place is around the corner, I can manage myself," you stopped before a turn around the corner, Spiderman following suit. 
Standing before him only increased your curiosity about his identity. Who was he? He was hiding under a mask that shielded his face, but something about him seemed less foreign than expected. 
"O–oh, then I guess I should get away too. Swing around the city and see whose ass to beat," he laughed awkwardly, a hand automatically reaching for the back of his neck, just like something Jake would do too. You shook that thought away. "Goodnight … stranger,"
"It's Y/N," you didn't hesitate to tell him your name, he saved your life, a little information about yourself wouldn't hurt despite him being a total stranger still. "Goodnight, spider boy."
You turned around the corner, leaving the hero standing there, bewildered and helpless. It was hard to ignore the pit in your stomach that carved deeper and deeper. He reminded you too much of your best friend, and strangely, that was probably the reason why you felt gradually attached to him, a stranger that resembled the ghost of a guy you liked but couldn't have. 
The space of your apartment was dark and soulless once you stepped into it. Your parents worked late as always, meaning you were alone most of the time, and this was one of them. Maybe it was the atmosphere and the countless wishful thinking, but a sense of despair knocked on the door of your heart. 
By the end of the night, you laid awake in bed thinking about what Spiderman had said. Nothing will change. That was exactly what you wished for too, that your dynamic with Jake was never to change, but how was that to happen when he's got a girl around? Eventually, you're not just going to lose the guy you loved, but your best friend as a whole.
Your train wreck of thoughts were interrupted the moment you heard a knock on your window. That knock turned into a tune that you knew too well. Sitting up straight in bed, you spotted the figure standing by your window out on the fire escape. Jake. 
At this point, you weren't even going to figure out how he got up this high on the fire escape. It was one too many times of him avoiding your question and you ended up dropping the matter too. Yet, curiosity itched your mind. 
Unamused at the fact that he turned up at possibly the wrong timing, you dragged your legs over to the window, meeting his bashful gaze. He offered a crooked grin, but your narrowed eyes only shot it back into a frown.
"Explain to me why you're here? It's midnight, Aunt May would be worried about you," your window was opened now, but you stood in the way before he could climb through, an interrogative look of yours stared at him accusingly.
"I told her I'd be over at yours," he answered cheekily. "Just like the old times, eh?"
Judging from your unbudging stance and eyes practically shooting lazers, Jake knew he had struck a nerve that have been left untreated for far too long. He sighed a defeated breath, squeezing through forcefully and dropping his backpack onto the ground. 
"I know," he didn't need to say much, yet he conveyed more than needed. "I've been a shitty best friend,"
It was your turn to sigh. You shook your head, averted your gaze to the ground and stepped aside, giving him more space. "You know a 'sorry' alone won't cut it this time,"
He followed your every movement, joining you to sit on the edge of your bed, a small space in between separated you and him. "I know. But I really am sorry, Y/N. I mean it,"
"I just want you to be honest with me, Jake. I know you're busy, I know you're trying to get the girl of your dreams or whatever, good for you, but it feels like you've forgotten about me or something,"
"I didn't forget about you. How could I ever?"
"Well, then stop acting like it! A text would suffice," you stood up, back facing him just so you could hide your face from him and the tears welling up in your eyes. 
"Y/N," he grabbed a hold of your wrist, cold fingers wrapped around your skin, his touch ever so gentle. "I'm sorry. I know I fucked up … many times, and a single 'sorry' wouldn't make up all the hurt I caused you, b–but there's a reason why,"
"What is it then?" You whirled around to face him, the dark of the room casted a shadow over his face, bringing out the fatigue and injury on his delicate features. "What the fuck, Jake? Are you hurt again?"
"It's nothing,"
"You said it's nothing every time you turned up hurt, and I never ask many questions, but Jake, it feels like you're hiding something from me," your hand reached up for his face, hovering over the bruises and mild cuts on his lips and skin. "I don't know you anymore,"
Jake moved his face away a little, grabbing that hand of yours which hovered over his face, lacing his fingers into yours, the rough surface of skin contrasting your soft touch. "I–I wish I could tell you what it is right now, Y/N, I really do, but it's not the right time. I need you to trust me, I need you to believe me, I don't want to hurt you,"
There was a moment of silence where you stood before him, hands intertwined with his, your hurtful gaze scanning his every feature that you knew too well. Jake never lied to you, you knew that, but why couldn't you fully trust him this time? There was a sense of truth and lie hidden behind his words, but you knew one thing, he was genuine. Yet, it wasn't enough. 
"Let me make it up to you. There's this carnival in the city tomorrow night, you and I, hang out, what do you say?" He tried offering a smile, which eventually turned uncertain. "We can spend the entire day together. Just you and me,"
"No bailing on me this time?"
"Promise,"
"You do?"
He held up your interlocked hands, then intertwined your's and his pinky fingers together, something you and him always did when it came to serious promises despite the childishness to the whole pinky promises thing. "Promise," he repeated. 
"I believe you, Jake. I always do, and I just don't want you to get yourself in danger, whatever it is that you're doing. Whenever you turn up bruised and beaten, I–I just feel helpless, and you push me away every time,"
"I'm sorry," he whispered, taking your interlocked hands and placing them on his chest, near to where his heart resided. "I promise to tell you the truth soon. I just need to be ready,"
"When you're ready," you gave his hand an affirming squeeze, a reassuring smile creeping up onto your lips. "Do you want to stay over?"
"I didn't turn up with a packed bag for nothing," he laughed, the air lightening up much more compared to earlier. "I'll sleep on the ground like always,"
Once you were done manoeuvring and setting up the sleeping bag for Jake, you were finally in bed for the second time that night, except now, you had Jake sleeping on the ground beside your bed. It wasn't a rare occasion having him sleep over, just maybe this time it was a tad bit more awkward given the situation you had earlier. 
"Jake," you spoke into the darkness, your eyes trained on that one spot on your ceiling. 
He hummed back in response. 
"Nothing has changed between us, right?"
A beat of silence, the whirring of your A/C was what remained. Then, he spoke. "No. Nothing's ever going to change. Nothing will change," 
It sounded familiar, the way he said it and the enunciation he had in every word. You shook it off, given the late night and a mushy brain, you didn't give it a second thought. 
"I'm glad. Goodnight, Jake."
"Goodnight."
Despite the reassurance from Jake, you descended into sleep with a pit in your gut. You could barely sleep with him next to you, thinking you could find a cure to every trouble that existed between you and him to fix it all. How could he say there'd be no changes when there's a bigger crack forming on your heart?
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The next morning was like any other whenever Jake stayed over. An empty kitchen that allowed you to make some simple breakfast and after, you bid Jake goodbye for the moment before meeting him later on that day. 
Upon stepping into your room, you spotted a black lump sitting under the window. It was Jake's backpack. He was already long gone from your apartment by then. 
You advanced towards his backpack, held it up to move it somewhere else, but it only caused the contents inside to spill out. Knowing how clumsy Jake always was, you figured his backpack had been unzipped the entire time.
You glanced at the pile of mess littered on your floor, a clump of red catching your eyes amongst the rest. Curiosity got the best of you despite knowing you shouldn't pry, but the moment your fingers made contact with it, the question marks in your head increased by tenfold.
Spandex material. You pinched it at first, feeling the material against your skin, then you finally got the guts to hold it up entirely, revealing something far beyond expectations. 
Spiderman suit?
Was it a fake one? Jake could've always bought it from Amazon. You held it closer for inspection, noticing how it was worn out, slight tears on the bottoms. It couldn't be a fake, something in you knew. The dried blood stains on some spots gave it away. 
Everything made sense to you now. Jake being secretive, hiding the truth from you every time you asked, turning up hurt and disappearing at random times just for the news to report Spiderman's appearance after. All of them were finally connected in your head, and revelations about his suspiciousness were known by you.
It hit you. Jake was spiderman. Your best friend was that vigilante swinging around the city saving people and fighting crimes. He was the one who walked and swung you home. He always knew.
You let out a breath of disbelief, knees feeling weak and head spinning. How were you to shoulder the truth after this? Pretend like nothing's wrong when everything is wrong and weird. It was practically impossible to patch up the existing crack that continued to worsen. 
Shoving Jake's belongings back into the bag, you shouldered it and made your way to his place. Your mind was in a haze, the thought of him being Spiderman was hard to wrap around. Sometimes ignorance was genuinely bliss, you wished this was one of those times. 
You didn't know if it was a good or bad thing that Jake wasn't home when you turned up at his door, meeting a confused looking Aunt May instead. Apparently, Jake went out in search of his backpack that was currently in your hands, so you had no choice but to call him and wait for him to be back. 
How could you not have spotted it sooner? Now that you're in his bedroom for possibly the millionth time, everything seems clearer. The map of the city stuck on his wall which had random scribbles and locations circled in red marker ink stood out to you, the box of medicine and ointments sat on his bedside table that you frequently ignored. All the signs were presented before your eyes without your knowledge.
"Hey, sorry for keeping you waiting," Jake closed his bedroom door after almost half an hour of waiting for his appearance. His hair was dishevelled, clearly panicked and alarmed. 
"No, it's okay, we're supposed to meet up anyway," you sat up from lying on his bed, nodding at the backpack sitting on his desk. "Got your baby back,"
"Oh my God," he crossed the room with big steps and had zero hesitation when it came to unzipping it to check his belongings. "Did I leave it at your place?"
"You did," 
"Thought I left it out there somewhere," he murmured under his breath, then zipped the bag up. You knew why he was so secretive, and it made even more sense why he always brought it around. 
Jake most likely felt your wandering eyes on him judging from the way he spun around and shielded his bag from view, trying to divert your attention away. "Want to watch a movie?"
How could you possibly say no? That sly prick.
You didn't indulge in his suspicious behaviour further now that you were aware of his secret, though you pretended not to. He did say he would reveal it to you soon, but that 'soon' was quite unknown. At this point, you didn't know who was going to be the first one to reveal it. Either you or him.
You spent half of the day binging on movies, ate an early dinner and then walked to the carnival together. Along the way there, you couldn't stop yourself from taking quick glances at Jake. The street lights illuminated his features under the darkening sky, the loud chatter of the crowd drowned out and it was only him in your world. Even as he asked you questions, you blindly nodded to most of them. 
How could you not fall for him? He bought you drinks without question, won you prizes at those booths, held your hand as you walked through the crowds. It was as if Jake Sim himself was blind enough to not know what he was doing to you. 
"Enjoying the night?" Jake threw his arm around your shoulder ever so casually that it had you holding your breath for a minute.
"You won me a big bear, of course I am," you held onto the stuffed toy tightly, grinning at the memory of Jake winning during his first try. 
"What's next? Wanna stop by that art and craft booth then we go on the ferris wheel?" Jake definitely did know his way into your heart.
"Sounds good," 
You thought the night would eventually end with peace and quiet, but before it could even end, it had been ruined beyond belief. 
The big screen suddenly flashed to a news reporter, the background looking chaotic and people were fleeing. It was live news, the whole thing was happening as you breathed. You and Jake stood rooted, staring at the big screen just like many others did, listening in on the broadcast.
'Just in, a monstrous creature was seen terrorizing and climbing along the Oscorp building. It was spotted not long ago, but now it has disappeared into the building, its whereabouts unknown. Workers of Oscorp have fled the building, but not all of them, some were said to be present in the building until now.'
You glanced at Jake, a sinking feeling in your gut. It was a sour thought knowing he's about to get himself in danger yet again, but having him bailing once more cut deeper than a falling knife. As a human, you wanted him to save lives and the city. However, you were also his best friend, and you hated to be selfish, but you just wanted him to be there without having to leave every single moment.
The conflict in your eyes matched Jake's, who was evidently struggling with himself. You tried to mask it, yet hurt and sadness was hard to ignore or hide. 
"Oscorp … Gwen," the faint hush of a murmur was audible under his breath, causing you to cock your head at him.
"What?" 
"I–I, Y/N, I have an emergency," he removed his arm around you, the hold on his backpack strap tightened. 
"Jake," to scream at him? Let him leave? All of the above? You struggled with your emotions as you tried to understand and empathise, you always did, but couldn't you just have him this one time?
"I'm sorry …" his voice was weak, he knew how much pain and hurt he caused you, and retreating away from your disappointed face wasn't going to solve anything, just the problem downtown, but not the cracks that were forming right now.
"I know, Jake," you shouted when he was a distance away from you. He turned around, eyes widened and pupils blown, a mix of confusion and surprise painted his features. "I know about you,"
He was breathless, he didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything. He left without a trace, and once again, you were left alone to fend for yourself. You wanted to understand, you do, but it was hard. 
You glanced at the big screen for one last time, uttering a silent curse under your breath, and decided to head to where the scene was. Crazy? Stupid? You were everything described. That was probably why you and Jake were best friends. 
Taking the cab was one of the stupidest decisions you made, and that excluded the part where you're literally bringing yourself to danger. Thanks to whatever that was terrorising the Oscorp building, the traffic was heavier than usual, so you had no choice but to run on foot. It was the most running you ever did all year.
You wondered if it was a good idea to even be there. Answer: no. The police cars were everywhere, all of which were stationed with police that were armed with rifles. A helicopter circled the building, several broadcasting stations and their reporters were present too. It was a mess. 
"What's happening here?" You were practically out of breath, panting, as you asked a random bystander there. 
"Some freakish lizard creature. I think Spiderman swung into the building to save the remaining victims. They were all rescued but Spiderman's still fighting in there,"
"You saw him? Spiderman?"
"I did! Red suit, white webs, he was so heroic when he crashed through the glass panels," 
"That's the one," you said unnervingly, disliking the uncertainty of it all. Jake was putting himself in danger and you could do nothing about it. How long did this go on for? You were left in the dark for far too long.
Soon, which almost felt like forever, you saw a speck of red escaping from the gap in the building with somebody in hand. You held your breath out of anxiety, heart thumping, listening in on all the noises and reports coming from everywhere around you.
"There he is! Spiderman!" A reporter appeared next to you, absolutely transfixed with the superhero slinging through the dark sky and eventually landing in the distance. "He has the last hostage in hand! A girl!" 
A girl?
You pushed past the crowd, trying to get a closer look at Spiderman and the entire scene before you. There he was, speaking to the police, but there was somebody else too. Gwen Stacy. 
An overwhelming feeling crashed down on you like a heavy weight of boulders falling from the sky. Confusion, hurt, heartbreak, altogether they penetrated you harder than you could manage to breathe. One step, two step, you took many steps back before turning away and hailing for a cab home. 
He wasn't yours, and he wasn't yours to lose either.
Returning home to an empty apartment was nothing new, except it did hit differently this time. Your heart was empty, mind in a haze, it was as if your narrator had drawn swirls over your head. You wished things had turned out in another way. You and Jake, how you found out about his secret, him hiding his secret. If only all of them had another ending than what you had in the present.
You sat slumped over in bed, the desk lamp was the only thing that provided light for the darkness in your room. The shadow looming over your window went unnoticed by you. That was until a series of knocks sounded and you jumped out of bed in alert, finding it strange how there was nothing once your eyes trained on your window.
Well, there goes your future. 
You stepped a little closer. Just then, the window was jerked open by some unseen force, a red cladded face peeking his head into frame. Spiderman, or more accurately, Jake, was standing on your fire escape again. 
He dropped his backpack onto your bedroom floor, letting himself in wordlessly. You stared at him, not knowing whether to speak first or let him be the one to do it. After all, he had left you hanging, it's the least he could do.
Jake pulled off the mask from his head, revealing a rather beat up face and messy, dishevelled hair that was coated with sweat. "You knew?"
His voice was tired, but the confusion and hurt punctuated through his words. He inched close to you, but you took a step back, unable to meet his gaze.
"Well, it wasn't a long time," you muttered. "Just today, actually … coincidentally,"
"How?" 
"Your backpack. I swear I didn't look through it, it was unzipped and when I picked it up, everything spilled out. Your suit revealed it all," you chewed at your bottom lip, Jake's eyes boring into yours, the prickling feeling of anxiety crawled all over your skin. "I didn't want to find out this way either,"
"I'm sorry for not telling you earlier. I wanted to, trust me, you're one of the closest people I have in my life. But I just didn't know when or how to break it to you. I wanted to protect you, to keep you safe," he was equally guilty for hiding it for a long time, but you understood the reason behind it. Being a hero comes with a great responsibility, that was what movies taught you anyway. 
"Jake, I know, and it's okay, but I just wish to be selfish for a little. I want you to be here with me, to be there for me a–and be my best friend for a minute," you felt yourself losing the will to speak as seconds passed by. "I feel like I'm losing you,"
"You're not. I'm here," he pressed his palm against his heart, stepping closer until he was barely a few inches away. "Always,"
"I don't want to lose you, Jake," your voice wavered, a clear sheen of tears glazed your eyes. "I'm in love with you," your words came out in a whisper, a hushed confession that spilled with no warning, coming from the deepest, darkest pits of your heart. Even then, you couldn't believe you had actually said it, stilling in place and blinking in shock. 
Jake's breath hitched, his movements frozen. You wondered about the possible scenarios you were about to face, ones that you thought of whenever you had the urge to spill your love confession.  All of them certainly didn't prepare you for what was happening next.
"I'm sorry," shock turned into instant panic. Your hands shot out to create a small distance between you and him. "Ignore what I just said. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable—"
Jake didn't say much, and in a swift motion, he grabbed a hold of your hand, pulled you into him. One hand holding your wrist, the other cupping your face to tilt your head and his lips met yours.
You could barely register it. The weight of his mouth against yours created a mass of fireworks in both your head and stomach. The shock evaporated from your body and relief took its spot. You melted against his touch, leaning your body closer to his. 
Jake kissed you like no man could have ever done. He left a part of himself, imprinted his every unspoken word into a deep and passionate kiss. You wondered if this was what it felt like being loved by him.
Forever was what you wished for when it came to kissing him. Yet, it eventually came to an end just like every one of your favourite movies. This time, however, you weren't disappointed, you were glad. 
"Don't apologise. Y/N, I'm in love with you too," his hand on your cheek remained, the dim light managed to bring out the sparks in his pupils. It was your turn to be confused. Didn't he have a crush?  "I know what you're thinking. Gwen—" it's freaky how he always knew, "—I was kinda dumb, to be honest. I was always in love with you but it took me years and a girl to only realise that,
"She was nothing like you. The more I got to know her, the more I thought of you. I wasn't trying to like her, I was trying to find a piece of you in her. Being the coward that I am, I ran away from facing the thought of liking you, I didn't want to ruin our friendship. So, I kept on entertaining the thoughts of liking Gwen instead, but none of it was real. You're the one who's constantly taking up space in my mind, in my heart,"
The fireworks from earlier exploded ten folds in your mind. You couldn't believe you were experiencing every passing moment listening to Jake's confession. He felt the same way as you did for him. He has had the same pining for you like the same way you had for him. Years, years of unspoken romantic love for one another that both were too scared to touch upon. 
Jake took your shell shocked silence as an opportunity to continue on. "I'm sorry for standing you up all the time. I'm sorry for hiding the truth from you. I'm sorry for avoiding you. I'm sorry for not realising it sooner. But I love you, Y/N. You're my best friend, more than anything, you're the only person I want to have occupying my mind all the Goddamn time,"
"Jake," your hand travelled to place itself onto his which rested on your face. "I love you too," you laced your hand into his, the intimacy that would've been seen platonic days ago was now something more than that. You and him both felt the shift, it was apparent. 
"I don't care that you're Spiderman," you continued, not once breaking eye contact with him, letting him stare into yours as you did the same. "You're Jake to me, you forever will be, and that's all that matters,"
Jake's delicate features melted into a smile. His pretty smile that had you swooning was on display like a trophy, influencing you enough to crack a small grin too. He looped an arm around your waist, dipping you slightly and pressing a haste kiss on your lips, then your cheeks. 
"I guess I can now say I've swung into your heart," he teasingly sent a wink flying at you, to which you responded with an eye roll. Some things never changed, but his ego definitely was inflated now.
"Shut up before I kick you out," you threw a light punch at his shoulder, which he dodged almost unsuccessfully. "Come on, let's patch you up then we can go to bed," you patted his shoulder, walking towards your bathroom. 
"Demanding," he whistled under his breath, picking up his discarded mask from the floor. 
"Don't make me add a black eye to your face,"
"But you like my pretty face,"
"You want to test it out?"
"Okay, okay. I'm coming."
The night eventually ended with Jake being patched up and sleeping on your bed instead of his usual spot on the ground. These little changes was what you anticipated most, but other than that, it was safe to say nothing would be changing when it came to your and Jake's relationship. If anything, it was about to be stronger. 
So what if he was Spiderman? At least you knew Spiderman was yours, and he had indeed swung into your heart.
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Dating your best friend who had a secret identity was fun. 
You got to discuss maths in school and listen to his adventures after. Not to mention, he would swing you around New York City at times once the clock striked past midnight. No other girl was going to get a date like this. Ten out of ten, you may add. 
With the fun came the terror. You do fear for Jake's safety almost every time he's out, and it has become a routine to patch him up till the point where you had to restock your emergency kit. This time was like no other when Jake appeared through the window soundlessly in his Spiderman suit.
"Hey," he was breathless, tumbling over the window still. 
You jumped, not even realising his appearance. "What the hell? Jake? Oh my God," you got up right away to support his tired body, but he ended up sliding down onto the ground anyway.
"Are you injured anywhere? Bleeding?" You checked for his body, trying to spot any obvious cuts, making yourself comfortable in the space between his legs. 
"No," his hand reached for the end of his mask, pulling it up halfway only to reveal his lips. "Can I get a kiss?"
"Are you serious?"
"I am dead serious," 
You rolled your eyes, leaning down to press a kiss on his lips that eventually widened into a satisfied smile. You gently slapped his face, eliciting a sweet laugh from him and with a tug of his hand, he fully removed the mask from his head, revealing his pretty face that you missed.
"I got something for you," his hand reached out to brush your hair away from your face, his touch ever so gentle when it came to you. He dug something out of his bag, pulling out a fresh bouquet of flowers. "Ta-da," 
"Flowers?" You accepted the bouquet from him, noticing all of your favourite flowers in it. He remembered, even the littlest details about you, he remembered them all.
"I got them on the way here," you raised an eyebrow at him. He threw his hands up in defence. "Hey, I didn't steal them. I actually paid for them. They gave me a discount too because I was in my suit,"
You resisted a smile. "You're unbelievable,"
"Unbelievably cute? Romantic? Handsome?" He leaned in closer to you, noses close enough to brush against one another. 
"Go away," you squeezed his cheek, and he just let you do so without any fight. You threw your arms around his neck, hugging him briefly. "I like them,"
"What about me?"
"I like you too,"
 "But I like you more," 
You threw your head back laughing, a simple sound which was enough to have Jake's heart racing. "We're not making this into a competition, stupid. Now, go shower or else you're not sleeping on my bed,"
"But—"
"Nope. Shower or get exiled,"
"Fine," he dragged his body up sluggishly, looking almost like a puppy being forced to his dismay: the shower. "You're not joining me?"
"Don't make me chase you out." you threw a pillow at him that he skillfully dodged. Damn his spider senses. His laughter echoed around your bedroom until he disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of it gave comfort to you and your beating heart.
Things might've changed a little in different aspects, but you knew nothing could change you or Jake altogether. He was your best friend and lover no matter what he was. Spiderman or loverboy, he was everything to you. All you knew was that he was going to be by your side no matter what, protecting your heart alongside the city. 
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( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )
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iamred-iamyellow · 2 months ago
Text
⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ Don’t Prove I’m Right - [Part 4]
♥ prev
♥ series masterlist | main masterlist
♥ pairing: lando norris x fem!reader
♥ series synopsis: you didn't think twice about the dj you hooked up with until you found out you were pregnant. turns out the man wasn't just some dj but a famous formula 1 driver.
♥ chapter synopsis: after his reckless decisions, lando attempts to make it up to you. it took some convincing from oscar but you eventually gave in and had a conversation with him.
♥ smau + written - fc: girls on pinterest - none of the pictures are mine
♥ warnings: swearing !!!
♥ a/n: its been MONTHS since the last chapter I am so sorry lovelies!
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liked by logansargeant, lilyzneimer, lilymhe, and 120,538 more
yourusername ever since @/logansargeant and @/oscarpiastri got camila these plushies she’s been obsessed with them
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yourbestfriend please don’t tell me the deer is being replaced 😔
yourusername camila would never
lilyzneimer shes just too cute to not spoil
user1 haven’t seen lando in any of her posts recently 😕
user3 they did JUST get back to Monaco so I wouldn't be worried
user6 they're not dating either so I don't see why he would be
user4 we need a godfather reveal
logansargeant it’s me
oscarpiastri its me
carlossainz55 … it’s probably not me 😕
✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧
It had been a couple of days since your last conversation with Lando and a knock on your door drew your attention away from your phone.
A giant box was sitting on the doorstep alone with no sender information. You hesitantly brought it into the living room and grabbed a pocket knife to cut through the clear strip of tape. The box quickly burst open from the pressure of the deeply packed objects—about a dozen jellycats and an apology note placed on top. 
It was clear to you that this package was from Lando, and it was a very sweet gesture. He’d clearly seen the post you made the previous day and was trying his best to make up for his mistakes. You sighed and folded the note up, setting it on your couch. You pulled out a soft pink bunny from the box causing Camila to squeal and hold her arms open. 
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You still hadn’t checked your texts from Lando, but Oscar was right. You couldn’t ignore him forever. Lily offered to take you out for the night in order to clear your head. You were extremely grateful for Lily’s support and generosity ever since you met her. She had truly become one of your best friends throughout this experience.
✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧
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yourusername girls night
tagged; @/lilyzneimer
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lilyzneimer <3
user1 we love a self care queen
user2 she’s so pretty
alexandrasaintmleux we should all hang out together <3
francisca.cgomes i second that
yourusername i’m so there
user7 i love that the wags include her 🥹
✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧
You sat next to Lily with a glass of white wine in your hand, conflicted. Of course you were. Like Oscar said, you had to confront him at some point, but it was going to take a lot for you to trust Lando again. You pulled your phone out of your purse.
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You got the response pretty much immediately.
You sighed and turned to Lily, "I'm gonna go talk to Lando."
"Good luck," she said with a smile, and took another sip of her drink.
You picked Camila up off the couch and bundled her up in a small yellow blanket.
-
You were at his apartment in about twenty minutes. You knocked hesitantly, tapping your nails on the case of your phone and jangling your keys in attempt to reduce your anxiety. Lando opened the door in silence, letting you into the room. He sat back down on his couch and you followed, cradling your daughter in your arms and choosing to stand up as you spoke.
“Listen Y/n, I know what I did was-“
"I'm not going to take your child away from you,” you stated, cutting him off. “You said you want to be in her life, but you have to keep that promise."
He nodded and ran his hands across his face. You wanted to get straight to the point with no excuses. You had heard all of his apologies already.
"Lily talked to Kmag and found her a babysitter, so we're good on that end. But, you still have to earn back my trust to be alone with her and if anything like this happens again I won't be nice."
He looked back up at you, “It won’t ever happen again, I swear. It shouldn’t have happened in the first place.
”I agree.”
There was some awkward silence as you gently sat on the arm rest of the couch.
You looked down at your daughter, “She may not fully get it yet, but you’re her dad and she loves you,” you locked eyes with Lando again. “You chose to raise her with me, so you need to take responsibility.”
He nodded, “I understand.”
"Good," you responded, standing back up and stepping towards the front door. You paused without turning your head back towards him, "Good luck in Imola.”
With that you were gone.
✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧
end notes: this was short, I am aware! there was originally supposed to be more to this chapter but I decided to turn it into its own whole part lol :) I've already started working on it so stay tuned!
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@ysabay, @cleopatrick-123, @nichmeddar, @glai1023-blog, @sltwins,
@harrysdimple05, @toriiez, @theonottsbxtch, @fastfactory
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