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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

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.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #female reader #camboy!eddie #camboy!eddie munson #soft!dom eddie

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latenightreadingpdf · 2 months ago

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Spencer's Secret - Spencer Reid

₊‧⁺˖⋆ 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 · 3 months ago

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Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 4

(Rafe Cameron x Reader, series, 6.6k words)

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

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)

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 · 7 months ago

Note

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

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

#kenji sato x reader #kenji sato #ken sato x reader #ken sato #ultraman: rising #ultraman #fanfiction #oneshot

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lokisgoodgirl · 4 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)

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.

Tags in comments❤️x

#loki x reader #loki smut #loki fluff #loki x reader smut #loki x you #loki x you smut #loki x female reader #loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson x reader #loki marvel #loki x yn #loki imagine #loki drabble #loki fanfic

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suguann · 5 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]

masterlist

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—

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.

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.”

#.things i write #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod smut #cod fic #cod x reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost smut #mw2 x reader #mw2 smut #cod

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lemonlover1110 · 25 days ago

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𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐄𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 1] The Lovely Bride

Story Masterlist

Pairing: Clan Leader!Satoru Gojo x f!Reader, Suguru Getou x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky

It should be an honor to be selected as Satoru Gojo’s bride. Selected as the vessel to pass down his techniques over generations is the greatest privilege bestowed on a human. Any sorcerer would kill to be in the position of becoming his bride. However, it isn’t an issue of luck.

You can’t just get Satoru Gojo to fall in love with you and propose– Even if you did manage, getting married to Satoru is impossible. That is since the moment of his birth, he’s been betrothed to another. He’s never met her, and he has no idea what she looks like, but they’re still supposed to get married in the spring.

Months after his twenty-fifth birthday, Satoru is supposed to get married to a woman that he’s never met. He isn’t particularly excited about it, but he won’t do anything to fight against it either. He’s expected to get married eventually, he might as well complete the task now.

Satoru can only hope that the woman that he’s expected to get married to isn’t annoying. The man wants to be able to coexist with her without having to worry about some woman falling in love with him. But Satoru doubts that he’ll have to worry too much, no one in their right mind wants an arranged marriage.

There’s a lingering question in his mind about her: What does she look like? He has yet to see her even though his wedding is in a matter of hours. He barely remembers her name, yet his mind focuses on the most shallow part… Is she attractive?

Though, Satoru doesn’t have the time to worry about her. Even when she’s his bride, he has more important things to worry about today.

Satoru looks at himself in the mirror, fixing his attire to make sure he looks perfect. Today, everything has to go according to plan. Nothing can fall short. Anything that goes wrong falls on his shoulders, who else is there to blame if not the man in charge?

Satoru shouldn’t care for criticism, especially for something as trivial as a wedding. But it certainly leaves a sour taste in his mouth when he hears about what everyone else is saying. Satoru can’t make a misstep without it being in the mouth of at least a hundred people. It’s an annoyance to say the least.

“What do you need?” Satoru asks before the door fully opens. Suguru steps inside, watching Satoru who looks ready. The wedding does not start until at least four hours, there’s no reason for Satoru to be ready.

“Just checking up on you before your big day.” Suguru says, but Satoru knows that what Suguru says is a lie. There’s another reason for Suguru’s presence.

“Why are you actually here?” Satoru questions, finally turning around to look at the man. Suguru puts his hands in his pockets before sighing.

“We can’t find the bride.” Suguru confesses, his eyes focused on Satoru’s face to watch the man’s reaction. To his surprise, Satoru looks unphased.

“How fast can we find a replacement?” Satoru asks, making Suguru’s eyes widen. Suguru furrows his brows, taken aback by the response. He would have sworn that Satoru would have a more tragic reaction.

“You do know that the woman that we’re talking about is the one that you’ve been engaged to for the past twenty-five years?” Suguru tries to remind Satoru, who just nods as if it doesn’t affect him in any way. “Shoko and I are looking for her.”

“Don’t sweat over it.” Satoru responds yet again, and Suguru is surprised by the lack of response. “I mean, I’ve never met her. She’s replaceable.”

“You’re…” Suguru begins but he cuts himself off before he can say something mean. It’s not an ideal situation, so he won’t pass judgment to Satoru. “They won’t let you marry just anyone.”

“What’s so special about her anyway? From what I’ve heard, her cursed technique isn’t even all that special. She’s plain.” Satoru says, and Suguru isn’t sure of how to respond. He doesn’t come from a family of sorcerers, he doesn’t fully understand the politics of whatever is going on.

“We can’t find a replacement that fast.” Suguru says, and it finally makes Satoru react.

“Fine. I’ll begin to look for her.” Satoru gives in. He’s ready, he guesses he can push some of his responsibilities on someone else. He has time either way, how hard can it be to find his bride? “What does she look like?”

“Uhm… We aren’t sure.” Suguru scratches the back of his neck. No one apart from her family knows what she looks like. “We saw a picture of her but it’s old.”

“Describe her.” Satoru answers, and Suguru gives the most basic descriptions that he picked up on. He can’t give many details, the picture that he was shown was from her childhood. “Okay, get out.”

“Are you going to look for her?” Suguru asks and Satoru has no other option but to hum in response. With that confirmation, Suguru exits the room, leaving Satoru behind.

“She’s already giving me a challenge.” Satoru sighs, looking at himself one last time in the mirror before exiting the room.

“I can climb up a wall.” You look up at the giant obstacle in your way. Now is one of those rare times where you regret not working out more. You never took physical training too seriously, and now you curse yourself for it. The main exit is crowded, it seems that word has gotten out.

You thought you were ready for this. For the past– God knows how long you've been getting ready for this day. There was never any other aspect in your life. One day you’d be Satoru Gojo’s wife. It was a promise, but it was never guaranteed for you. Either way, that’s who you were raised to be.

In a matter of hours, you’re supposed to fulfill your lifelong achievement. Yet, you’re trying to find a way to run away before it’s too late. You don’t want to be the disappointment of the family, but you also don’t think you’re capable enough to fill in the shoes of the role you’ve been assigned. You believe it’s best to run away, because at the very least you’ll find some purpose in life. A purpose that isn’t a man.

Your hands are trembling at the mere thought of climbing the wall. You can’t do it. No matter how hard you try. There’s nothing for you to hold on to, you won’t manage. But if you just take a couple of steps back and run towards it, then maybe you can jump over it. Jump high enough that you’ll hold on to the top of the wall.

“I can do it.” You try to tell yourself as you take a step back. You repeat the same words to yourself as you take yet another step. Just as you’re about to run off, your foot gets caught up with your kimono, and you fall forward.

Just like that, your dream of running away vanishes.

“Hey! Are you okay?” You hear, adding to an embarrassment that you didn’t even know was flowing through you. You were expecting to fail, but you weren’t expecting to trip and fall in front of an audience.

You just want to bury yourself underground and die. It’s your wedding day. You shouldn’t be making a fool of yourself, this isn’t how you were taught.

“I’m fine!” You yell as you remain on the ground. Fine, as if your forehead doesn’t sting. You’ve definitely cut yourself, but you don’t want to admit that to a stranger.

“Here, let me help you.” You feel a pair of big hands help you sit up. His eyes narrow as they land on your forehead. His thumb swipes over your forehead, showing off the bloody thumb, “You’re hurt.”

“It’s fine.” You respond. There’s a look of concern on his face, until his purple eyes grow wide as he takes a good look at your face.

“It’s you.” He says, and you feel your heart stop. “You’re Satoru’s bride.”

“Please–” You begin, but you don’t find the right words to say. No matter what you say, you’re still getting married. It’s not like he’ll help you run away. You bite down your lip, muttering, “Nevermind.”

“I’m Suguru.” He extends his hand for you to take, hoping that he can lift you off the floor and take you back to your room. There’s a nasty cut on your forehead, one that needs to be covered up.

You sigh, taking his hand as you introduce yourself to him. You keep your voice low, not wanting to catch anyone’s attention by speaking too loudly. After all, you are a wanted woman.

“We have to get your wound checked.” He points at your forehead, and you bring your fingertips up to the cut. Wound isn’t the right word for something that you can barely feel. You shake your head, and Suguru reminds you, “You’re getting married in a matter of hours–”

“I can deal with it.” You cut him off, and his lips turn into a thin line before he nods. “I’m going back to my room then. It was nice–”

“Suguru!” You freeze at the sound of the voice, your blood running cold. You begin to freak out internally, asking yourself about your next step. First impressions are important, and you know better than anyone that this isn’t the way that you’re supposed to meet your husband. “Is that her?”

“We sorted it out!” Suguru yells back, looking at Satoru. Satoru’s walking over, and Suguru notices that you’re not moving. You’re completely frozen in time, and he furrows his brows inquisitively.

“Good.” You hear his voice up close for the first time in your life, and you’re not able to lift your finger. Your eyes can’t even look at him. This is what you were scared of– You’ve barely met him and you’re already making a fool of yourself.

“You’re the replacement then.” Satoru says, and you feel your heart drop. You sense as he looks you up and down, sending a chill down your spine. His thumb swipes over your cut, before he proceeds to inspect the blood on it. “Not bad.”

“What do you mean–” Suguru begins, but before he can get the question out, Satoru cuts him off.

“None of your business, Suguru.” Satoru says, and Suguru rolls his eyes. Suguru does so much, all to not be in the loop. “Take care of her. Take her back to her room.”

“What about her wound?” Suguru asks, and Satoru shrugs. There’s a slight smirk on Satoru’s face as he stares at the cut on your forehead.

“I’m sure she can figure it out herself. Ask about her cursed technique.” Satoru responds before stepping back. He won’t entertain the situation for longer, he has to make sure the place doesn’t fall apart. He needs to make sure everything runs smoothly, but preparations have come to a halt since his bride suddenly disappeared.

“What about–” Suguru begins but you’re walking off, almost as if you’re following after Satoru. Though you aren’t, you’re going back to your room to continue getting ready.

You’re getting married in a matter of hours.

Just a few minutes before the commencement of the wedding ceremony, Satoru walks around to make sure everything looks perfect– That is what he tells himself. He’s mindlessly walking around, trying to kill time. He just wants to get this over with, but sadly, there is a schedule that he must follow.

He can go out there and greet the higher ups that have come to watch the union of two clans, but he’d rather do anything else. He doesn’t care for the guests, nor for formalities at this point. He’s done enough by getting married and keeping the ceremony as traditional as possible.

Satoru’s walk comes to a sudden stop when he notices the door to your room isn’t completely closed. There’s a gap in the door that he can’t ignore. How long has it been like that? How much of the staff has seen his lovely bride getting changed?

You’re ready now, he shouldn’t be getting in his head about it. He steps towards your room, and slides the door open, which catches you off guard.

“Are you ready?” He questions, and your eyes are wide as if you’re looking directly at a ghost. You nod in response, shifting your gaze from the man in front of you to the ground. He quickly notices and orders, “Look at me.”

“I’m ready.” You tell him, hesitantly shifting your gaze back at him. He finally hears your voice for the first time, and it sounds forced. You’re forcing yourself to sound softer than how you actually speak.

“What happened to your sister?” Satoru questions, and you feel your breath get caught up in your chest. You’ve been instructed not to speak about her, and even though it’s Satoru, you won’t say a word. You bow down your head and apologize, which makes the man frown. “You don’t know?”

“I don’t.” You respond, and Satoru clicks his tongue. He should’ve known better than to ask you.

“Whatever.” He replies. He stares at your face, seeing that the cut on your forehead has completely disappeared. He can only think that at least you’re not completely useless.

“I’m sorry for–” You begin, bowing down your head once again. He cuts you off before you can properly apologize.

“You made your mistake but you’re here now which is what matters.” Satoru says. “Just know that you can’t back down. Your family agreed to this decades ago, you can’t run away now.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.” You keep your voice low out of embarrassment, and he simply hums in response.

“I’ll see you there.” Satoru tells you, walking out of the room. He leaves you questioning everything in your life. You know that this isn’t what you want, but you have no option but to listen.

This is what you were raised to do, what else can you possibly do?

You try to shake the thoughts out of your head, knowing that overthinking isn’t going to help you out of the situation. The purification ritual begins in a matter of minutes, you can’t run away now. You take a deep breath, feeling nerves creep up.

You walk to the door, getting ready to go to the ceremony. Until your eyes land on the same man from earlier– Suguru. His eyes light up as he sees you, and he begins to walk to you when you signal him to come closer.

“How can I help you?” Suguru asks, and he sees a look of worry on your face. You must be getting cold feet, something that’s not unusual considering who you’re marrying and what you’re getting yourself into.

“Can I ask you for a big favor?” You begin, and Suguru hesitantly nods in response. He’s not sure what to expect from you, but he doesn’t want to be unhelpful to the bride. You’re looking around, almost as if you’re watching out for anyone else.

You take a deep breath before you blurt it out, “Help me run away.”

617 notes · View notes

hannieehaee · 10 months ago

Text

LIKE YOU DO

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!"

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.

"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.

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.

"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.

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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noxiwrites · 1 month ago

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Synopsis ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

The new teaching assistant is too hot for his own good, distracting most of the girls in your class.You're not too bothered by him, he's just another pretty face- until you get pulled by him for failing the class. It's every girls wet dream, getting taught by the hot new teacher- and you find yourself slowly falling into a sickly sweet situation.

Warnings ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

Age gap, inappropriate touching, arguments, angst, eventual smut, obsession, hidden relationship, public sex.

Word count ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

2.6k

Add yourself to my tag list | Masterlist

I II III IV V

Class the next week rolls around quicker than you would like. You’re a bundle of nerves, bookbag slipping off your shoulder more times than you’d like. You’re wearing one of your usual outfits, but it doesn’t stop Molly from wiggling her eyebrows at you as you meet her outside the classroom.

She hands you your coffee. “Dressing up are we?” Her tone is nothing but suggestive and it makes you wonder if you subconsciously dressed like this without realising, but you’re pulled from your thoughts with her giggling.

“I’m taking the piss, I can see those cogs turning. I love how you dress,” she grasps your arm in a playful manner as you both walk into class, Molly dragging you to a seat at the bottom of the seats instead of where you usually sit.

Your brows furrow in confusion but Molly just shoos you into the seat at the end of the desk, taking the one next to you. She leans closer, whispering so only you can hear her.

“He’s gonna go insane looking at that tiny little skirt all day long,” you gasp, hands pressed to the desk as you shoot her a disgusted look, trying to stand. Molly pulls you back down as students begin to fill the classroom, yapping away about something her boyfriend did the previous night, completely forgetting the subject at hand.

You drop your chin into the palm of your hand, watching as Rafe emerges from the door that leads to his office. His eyes scan the room- looking for you, you think- before the drop down to the bottom level and he smiles. Until his eyes catch your legs under the table, and the smile fades very quickly. He gulps and looks away, busying himself on his laptop.

You wonder if you’ve done anything wrong until Molly grasps your arm and practically squeals into your ear. “He’s so totally into you! Did you see how he looked at your legs?” It’s your turn to gulp, eyes watching as his biceps strain against the polo he’s chosen to wear today.

“It’s nothing, Mol. You’re seeing things,” you mumble, as the final few people stumble into class.

“Welcome in guys, we’re uh- doing some paperwork today in preparation for your upcoming exam,” Rafe takes a stack of thick papers off his desk, moving towards yours and Molly's table first. He passes Molly her paper no problem but when it comes to you, he slowly places it in front of you, lingering for longer than he should do.

Then he moves on, like nothing happened, handing out papers to the rest of the class. Molly practically smashes her knee against yours under the table and you roll your eyes, opening the paper.

The class drags on for what seems like forever as you can barely focus on your paper- stealing glances up at Rafe who’s doing anything but look at the class, his head buried in a book so deep you wonder if he’s trying to disappear.

When the end of the class eventually comes, Rafe places his book on his desk and beings to bid everyone farewell. The majority of the class rush out like usual, passing their papers to Rafe as he stands by the door. You’re still packing with Molly when Kendra saunters down the stairs, purposely swaying her hips in the shortest skirt you’ve seen.

You have to suppress the urge to call her a slut as she passes you- dropping her paper behind her. You look over at Rafe and see him watching, otherwise unbothered until Kendra lets out an “oops, dropped my paper,” and bends over to pick it up.

You can see Rafe immediately close his eyes as she flashes all she’s got, taking her time picking up her paper before grinning and skipping over to Rafe. She places it on top of his pile, hands lingering for a little too long.

“Sorry, Rafey, dropped it. Didn't mean to,” you can see her blinking up at him, trying to act all innocent but you’re pretty sure you can hear her eyelashes trying to take off in flight.

Rafe clears his throat, nodding down at her as she finally leaves.

“Can you believe that whore?” Molly asks, louder than you’d have liked her to. It alerts Rafe to your presence and he sighs, walking over to his desk and taking a seat.

“Anyway, got to go see Ryan, love you,” she kisses you on the cheek and passes you her paper, winking before dashing out of the door. You internally curse her before taking a shaky step toward Rafe’s desk, papers in hand. He smiles up at you, opening his hand to take them from your grasp.

“So, did you think about my offer?” He asks and you nod almost immediately, watching the smile grow on his face. “And?” He begins to flip through your paper.

“I’d like the help, sir,” you find your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes scanning your own paper to try and spot mistakes before he does. Rafe freezes, and you wonder what for, but it doesn’t last long before his eyes are meeting your own again.

“Great, we’ll review your paper in my office,” he stands, beckoning for you to follow him.

“Now?” You quip, shuffling your bag on your shoulder. Rafe nods, opening the door and standing in the doorway and waiting for you to walk through.

You were scared of what would happen behind that closed door, thinking back to your conversation with Molly. If he did make a move, would you reciprocate? You weren’t sure. You’d hoped it was just studying, but with the way he was looking at you right now you couldn’t be certain if those were his only intentions.

You let out a small thank you as you head into the office, which is small and dimly lit by a lamp on the desk in the middle of the room. There’s loads of pictures of him and two girls in frames all around the room, family, you think.

Rafe shuts the door behind him and you’re not sure if you hear the soft click of the lock before he’s moving around you, to get to his side of the desk. His gaze is burning as you take a seat across from him and he settles the paper inbetween the two of you.

You’re graciously aware of how his knees are surrounding your own underneath the table and it makes you feel so weird- but you don’t move.

“So, I think when you’re including these formula in your papers, you’re lacking the explanation as to how you got the formula,” he begins and you nod, hands resting at the edge of the table.

His own fingers glide across the paper as he reads your writings, before stopping on one of your explanation paragraphs.

“This is a perfect example. You’re explaining the formula and how it gives me that answer but you’re not telling me how you figure out the beginning,” he leans closer, pushing the paper towards you to show what he means- knees brushing against your thighs as he does so.

The notion doesn’t disturb him but it sends a jolt through you, gasping as you try to push your legs closer together. Rafe’s eyes lock onto your own, sparkling up at you.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes.” You respond straight away, heart beating a thousand miles an hour. He grins, moving on with the paper.

You look around the office again, trying to calm your heart down. “How old are you?” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop yourself, looking at a picture of him with longer hair, the two same girls from other photos present in this one.

Rafe laughs, hearty as he leans back in his chair. “Twenty seven,” you almost gasp again, but push it back down as you compose yourself.

“You don’t look twenty seven,” you say, voice uneven. You hope he doesn’t notice, but the smirk on his face paints a different story. He notices you looking at the picture of him with longer hair.

“I was 20 in that photo, home for the holidays for Christmas,” you notice him adorning a Christmas jumper and nod, feeling a sudden flush of embarrassment course through you as you look back down at the paper.

“The uh, paper?” You question, and Rafe shakes his head. “Everything else is okay, I’ve already looked.”

You nod, drumming your fingers against the desk.

“Okay, so-” you begin, only to be cut off.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting all skittish,” he folds his arms over his chest and you have to fight yourself to not look at his biceps. You nod at him, deciding it’s a good enough answer to give.

“See, I think I know what’s wrong. You’re getting all hot and flustered because you’re in a room with me,” he concludes and you’re sure, if it were possible, your eyes would pop out of your head. You’ve never shook your head so fast, watching as Rafe smirks, leaning forward to place his crossed arms on the desk.

“Im just messing with you,” he laughs, and you’re unsure for a second if he actually is messing with you, hands gripping the edge of your skirt so much that your hands almost turn white.

Finally, you breathe, collecting your thoughts as you feel Rafe’s eyes burning into you.

“You’re very beautiful when you’re nervous,” he murmurs, hand reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. Not joking. So not joking. He’s not joking.

Your heartbeat picks up the pace again as his hand lingers there, thousands of emotions running through you at once. Your eyes meet his own and he finally drops his hand, letting his fingers dance across the edge of the table. You can’t help but watch, cheeks scarlet.

“Do I make you nervous?” He asks, fingers dancing closer to you. You shake your head again, wishing you could be anywhere but here. You’re not entirely sure what’s happening right now.

“I think I do, look at you. Poor little thing, can’t even speak,” his hand begins to play with the edge of your coat, thumbing the material.

“I uh- I’m not sure what’s happening,” you squeak out and Rafe laughs, leaning back in his chair. He runs a hand over his face like he’s composing himself before shuffling down the chair, legs enveloping your own more than you thought possible.

“Nothing, nothings happening, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You’ve never left an office so fast. Flustered, warm, legs shuffling together to try and alleviate some of the pressure building up. Nothing helps. You dash to your car, desperate to get home and rot in bed for a while.

You literally couldn’t think, brain fuzzy, and it baffles you as you pull up outside your apartment that you’re actually home, because you don’t remember driving there.

Slumping back into the seat, you turn the ignition off and wipe a hand over your face.

What. The. Fuck.

Molly is the first person to know. You’re sure she breaks fifteen road traffic laws to get over to your place, and when she finally arrives, she practically flies through your front door and into the kitchen where you’re cooking and nursing a bottle of wine.

No glass.

“Tell. Me. Everything,” she heaves out, grasping her chest as she leans against the doorway of the kitchen. You’re stirring the pasta, before turning around and finally grabbing some glasses for the wine.

“I found out he’s twenty seven- oh and he finds me beautiful apparently,” Mollys eyes widen, taking a seat at the opposite side of your kitchen island, hands wrapping around her glass.

“I told you girl! Did you shag him? Oh my god if you did..” she trails off, looking at your stone face and white knuckles wrapped around the spoon.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, taking a sip of her wine.

“I froze up. I literally couldn’t do anything if I wanted to, Molly. I’ve never been like this around a guy before,” you tell her and she nods, eyes glazed over with thought.

“It’s like he completely pulled back though? Like he had a clear thought and just stopped, and then I left,” you finish. Maybe it’s because he remembered how wrong it was, or that you were his student, or that there’s a seven year gap between the two of you.

You’re not sure if that’s the truth. You’ve know this man for three days, and the first time you’re alone with him you can barely speak. You have to rationalise your thoughts- he is just another pretty face to you, but you can help but turn all mushy when he’s near.

Its attraction. Like when you see somebody in the street and think they’re hot- but this must go deeper because you’ve never frozen in the middle of the street when you see a hot guy.

“You’re just really attracted to him and it’s obvious he is to you too. I think you just need to shag him,” Molly announces, sprinkling some cheese on top of her pasta.

You scoff, twirling pasta around your own fork. “I do not want to shag the teacher,” Molly knows you’re lying, and somehow, so do you.

“Yeah and I can fly, if we’re both lying,” Molly mumbles, as she grabs your tv remote to turn on some background noise. “I think you should just shag him, see how you feel,” she puts a nonsensical reality tv show on, turning back to you.

It’s like a battle with yourself. One minute you’re sure you’re not attracted to him, you’ve not known him long enough, but then all of a sudden you’re reminding yourself how mushy he makes you feel- and now you know he wants you too.

You don’t know what to do.

You don’t go to class the next morning. You can’t, can’t look him in the eyes- or maybe you can’t watch Kendra flirt with him again, you’re not sure.

Instead, you spend the day at home, mulling around in bed, tv quietly playing in the background. Whiskers is with you, not having left your side all day and you’re thankful.

Your phone dings, after being mostly quiet all day so you pick it up to see a barrage of texts from Molly.

He asked where you were

Seemed quite pissed that you weren’t in

Kendra tried to flirt with him and he basically told her to fuck off

Girl this man is obsessed

I’ve just left and he asked me to make sure you’re in next week

He wants you for real

Her texts make you feel sick. He wants you for real. The last text replays over and over in your head, making you feel dizzy. Maybe Molly was right, maybe you should try sex with him and see how you feel. Maybe it was just that, you were just very horny for him.

But then, that would make you like everyone else in your class, specifically Kendra, and you didn’t like how that made you feel.

You’d just have to go to class on Monday and see.

Note ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

Whoa. I’m trying not to move it too fast 🥲🔫 Mayhaps a little bit of something mischievous next chapter!

Check out a teaser for a new series here <3

Tags ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

@dudenhaaa27 @outerbankspov @ayy1234567 @rxfecameronsslut @potter-head-phanatic @lilithblackkk

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laligraves · 4 months ago

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chp.2 - poolside

morning run series

joel miller x fem!reader

[18+] | wc: ~2.7k summary: Your nap is interrupted by Joel. masterlist | AO3

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?”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #dark joel miller #dark fic

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purplecoffee13 · 7 months ago

Text

The Silent Type*

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."

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