#this is my last attempt at trying to get this to show up in the tags if it doesn't pls reblog thanks besties | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rebelssvy · 2 days ago

Text

roommates ✧.*

ushijima x reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

⋆·˚ ༘ *

summary: ushi is your roommate and saw your phone with porn on it. creating an interesting relationship with you two. sex, smut, porn

i added twt links bc why not just to make it juicer lol

the worst thing to ever possibly happen, happened. while getting some cereal at one a.m, you had been scrolling on your own personally private twitter account. do you have porn on there? yes. do you actually watch it? yes. did you mean to leave it open on the counter top? no. not at all.

so to your horror as you ran to the pantry for some more cereal, you came back to the kitchen to find your your roomate, ushijima, standing right above your phone.

the action of him ease dropping isn’t what got you, he often snoops around your shared apartment. it was the audio you heard coming from it that made you jump out of your skin.

in the dead quiet of your dimly litted apartment, the audio of a girl getting absolutely railed by a man echoed.

“oh my god!” you scrambled, running over to your phone you shut it off. then threw it across the room it landing on the couch.

your hands instantly found your face, everything was burning up. ushi was normally a kind of awkward guy. not ever really saying much and when he did, it was always just kind of awkward.

did this stop you from having a crush on him? of course not. how could it? he was fucking huge. his muscles could make you pop from a hug. and he was also caring. even if he stuggled showing it. so you had no idea how he was about to handle this.

“you don’t have to be embarrassed y/n.” his voice prodded through the silence. it was deep, hushed. it wasn’t until a hand found your back that you looked up to him.

“i’m so so so sorry ushi!” you said turning to face him, putting your hands on his chest and burrying your head into his pecks. being touchy with him wasn’t abnormal. he just never really reciprocated it. that didn’t bother you.

“i’m… i’m just gonna go to bed.” you said before leaving your cereal on the counter, grabbing your phone and walking away.

that night you slept in horror. praying that he wouldn’t move out because of the action.

that night ushijima was more sexually frustrated then he had ever been.

✧.*

the next day when you two were at dinner, he brought up the situation from last night.

“god.. you don’t have to try to make me feel better. just forget about it.” you stood shaking your head. you two were out at a random restaurant about to leave when he asked you about it. you really wished he could just forget.

“you know y/n.. everyone watches porn.” he said it casually. tone unwavering. your eyes darted to his, attempting to read his emotions. to which you were met with a straight face.

the rest of the night you kept thinking about what that meant. does the ushijima wakatoshi watch porn? no way. i mean… there is no way right? in your head he could never be tempted. he’s too idk. perfect.

those words haunted you until you got home. every moment of silence between you lead back to the mental image you created.

finally walking through the door you decided to bring it up with him. you just didn’t know how.

he waked to his bedroom as you made you way to the kitchen for a drink. “hey ushi..?” you called out. he only responded when he walked back in with a changed, more casual outfit.

“yes y/n?” he replied finding a spot on your shared couch. instantly stretching he made himself comfortable as he flexed his biceps ever so subtlety. your eyes wandered to wear his shirt poked up. a flips of his happy trail peaked out. “do you have a question?” he said. your eyes snapped back to his face. you only nodded in reply.

going and sitting down next to him, sitting cris cross legged. as he faced forward his head turned to you. you were close, but not as close as you wished you were. so you opted to scoot closer to him. one of your knees now touching his thigh.

“earlier, i just can’t get it out of my mind… you said yk ‘everyone watches porn.’… and i was just wondering if like.. excuse me if im over stepping here but, if you watched.. porn?” your skin felt hot. like you were burning up. after you said it you wished you could take it back.

there was a long pause, and you swore you died and came back to life. just as you were about to excuse yourself to suffer an eternity of embarrassment, he responded.

“yes i watch porn.”

it was the answer you had longed for. craved and yearned. but now what? you asked him.. now what do you do?

“okay…” you said, hesitant. “i’m sorry. i don’t know what to say i’m so embarrassed oh my g-“ he stopped you mid sentence. cutting you off to say,

“want to see what i watch?” his tone was so casual that he never seemed more comfortable to talk to you. you couldn’t give him a verbal yes, so you shook your head yes instead.

you gasped as he moved his arm closer to you, only to grab his phone your thigh had been covering up. you watched intently, all nerves stood on end as he traveled to his notes app. you watched as he unlocked a hidden folder that revealed several links and notes under them. this was so ushijima. you thought to yourself.

“can i?” you asked while scooting closer to him. he flushed and shook his head yes. you scrolled through tens of links and notes beneath them like, ‘threesome two boys one girl.’ or ‘good creampie.’ it wasn’t out of the ordinary until one really caught your eye. it was a link, then labeled. ‘y/n.’ you gasped reading your name. then he caught on right away. obviously embarrassed he shut his phone off and didn’t say anything.

curiosity struck at your bones. what was that video? what did it have my name on it?

“can i.. can we maybe watch some of them..?” you leaned into him now bringing the phone back up to seversace level and unlocking it. he never said no. he shook his head yes before saying.

“let me explain-“ you cut him off, pressing a finger to his mouth before saying. “we will save that one for last how bout that…” you were now flirting with him. and he could tell. he shook his head yes once again as you scrolled through all the different links.

finally clicking on one you watched it with him side by side. you watched as a boyfriend penetrated his smaller girlfriend with his huge cock. you felt ushijima squirm next to you, obviously uncomfortable.

“fuck…” you said without realizing. your head whipped to his but he was already looking at you. and god.. he was so handsome. his lips parted slightly, glossed from his own saliva

“can i please kiss you?” he asked while dropping his hand and now holding your face. before giving him an answer you brought your face to his with passion. kissing him so intently. your lips molded around each others. it was hot. it was almost too much to handle. a line of saliva connected the two of you as you parted.

you picked up his phone and went back to scrolling. this time his hands were all over you, touching every part of your body. brushing over it of pinching at it, he needed to feel you.

you moaned as he brought his head to your neck and slurped at all your open skin. you watched videos that he had saved, making mental notes about how the women in them are. or what he was into like, two lovers forced to be quiet or how the girl in the video spread herself open to get finger fucked.

finally you made your way to the video with your name on it. ushijima had now brought his eyes back to you, nervous of what was about to happen. in silence you clicked on it. just to find a video of a girl with your body type and look getting absolutely pounded.

“i’ve never been fucked like that before…” you admitted, breaking the silence. you looked over to him. dropping the phone now.

“fuck y/n… i’m trying really hard right now to be a gentleman but your making it hard.” he dropped his head back before bringing a hand to his hair and messing with it.

“fuck that! just fuck me please oh my god!” you squealed out, shocked that you even said it. you smacked a hand over your mouth. but it was too late. ushijima had already taken you into his arms. carrying you into his room.

“i haven’t..” he started while throwing his clothes off, and undoing yours next, “been able to get you out of my mind. i need you so bad” he admitted now laying you down on the bed.

it was all happening too quickly. and yet his pace was awfully slow for you. fully naked you stared at him. he stared back at you.

finally his fingers trailed your asshole before finding your cunt. it was soaked already, ushijima was seeing stars. “fuck your so wet..” he groaned. “can i?” he asked for your consent.

“yes! ushi~just fuck me!” you moaned as his hand cupped your soft little cunt. he stood above you, spread your legs open and pressed his middle finger into your tight little hole. taking it out to draw circles on your clit. your back arched at all of his motions. you squirmed under his touch.

“god your so fucking tight. so fucking pretty.” he groaned before putting another finger into you. pumping it in and out of you at reckless pace.

“need more… i need your cock ushi..!” you moaned out grabbing at his length. you jerked him off a couple strokes before he pulled his fingers out of you and pushed them in your mouth.

you sucked your own juices off his digits. and oh my god, ushijima had never felt hotter. he felt like he was on fire.

now on the bed with you he threw your body around into a doggy position. your ass in the air. he waited seconds just looking at you before he positioned his cock near your hole.

as his fat tip sank its way further into your sobbing cunt, the more your pussy sucked him in. half way in and he thought he was going to cum. he pushed the feeling deep down into his soul. he needed to fuck you first.

“ushijimaaa~ fuck! ah-! your so fucking bi-i-g!” and with that moan of his name, he swore he heard wedding bells.

a new fuel fired his engine, as he pounded your wet cunt from behind. your arched your back further. the sensation was too much for you. the feeling of you stretching out around his fat cock. you could feel him everywhere.

your cream gathered at the base of his cock, it made his mind go hazy. pushing your farther into the bed, he rested more of his weight on you. slamming his cock in and out of you. your noises filled the room. the way you clenched around home you knew you were close.

“fuck you like that? cmon y/n.. cum around my fucking cock.” his words sent you over the edge. shaking and spasming beneath him you cursed out moans. saying ‘fuck ushi-! god i fucking love your dick ohmygod’ it wasn’t until his pace slowed slightly that you realized that he wasn’t stopping.

“i’ve been waiting to fuck uou for months baby. cmon gimmie a nother one cmon…” you watched all his composer slip away as he pounded your overstimulated body. flipping you on your front you got pounded face to face with him. his eyebrows furrowed. he was such a sight.

you felt your second orgasm approaching. he reached down to circle your creamy clit. as soon as he touched it pleasure ripped through you. your body lurching forward. you shook with the feeling.

“imcummingfu-c! god ushi~ your cock oh my god. fuck your so fucking good ah-!” you moaned, almost screaming him praise. he came on the spot. his cock filling you up with his seed. you felt him everywhere.

“god your so perfect. oh my god fuck y/n.” he said through grunts and groans. finally he fell next to you. kissing your sweaty body.

getting cereal at one am was the best thing you’ve ever done.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

i missed writing about him so u know i had to do it

302 notes · View notes

blackleatherjacketz · 2 days ago

Text

Dreams

Aaron Hotchner x BAU Female Reader

Summary: Hotch calls you out on being distracted and won't let you leave the office until he gets to the bottom of it.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Mature Content, Power Dynamics, Sex Dreams, Profiling, Daddy Issues, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, Spanking, Finger Sucking

Word Count: 2.9k+

Read More Criminal Minds

Hotch’s stone cold gaze burns into you from behind his desk, his lips pressed into a thin fine line as he smooths his hand down the length of his tie before settling into his seat. That harsh, judgmental glare is usually directed at the unsubs he’s interrogating or even family members he thinks might be hiding something important, but tonight it’s directed solely at you.

This can’t be good.

“May I ask what this is about, sir?” You sit down in the leather chair in front of his desk, keeping your spine as straight as possible in hopes of masking your growing anxiety. He’s never asked you in here alone after your initial interview, and you always assumed that that was a good thing; staying off his radar, out of his scrutinizing gaze. But then again, he had often asked Rossi and Garcia into his chambers on a regular basis, but that was only during business hours. Had you done something so terribly wrong that it warranted him keeping you here after closing time? Were you in trouble? Did Derek actually tell him that he saw your Tinder profile and that he matched with you as a joke? Was that allowed? Was he going to fire you? Because of something as menial as that?

He nods stoically, armed to the teeth with his classic unreadable expression as he takes you out of your anxious spiral. “Your paperwork from the last case we worked on was messy, to say the least, agent.” He opens the case file and slides it across his desk toward you, pointing to a handful of your mistakes underlined in bright red ink. “This is unlike you.”

The heat of embarrassment flushes your cheeks and warms its way down your neck as you lean forward to take a look at your sloppy paperwork. They were simple mistakes that could be easily remedied, but a lot more than you would normally make in a single week, let alone all of them clustered together into one single form.

Shit. He was right, this was unlike you.

“I’m sorry sir, I’ll fix this immediately. I don’t know where my head was at.” You offer instinctively, attempting to collect yourself and stand up before he quickly motions for you to sit back down.

“That’s not all, agent. You’ve been distracted these past few weeks, showing up late more than not, unable to focus or be fully present on our cases. I hired you because you’re one of the best, and I don’t feel like I’m getting that version of you lately.” His tone grew soft but remained slightly wary, like thunder rolling off in the distance before a heavy storm approached. “Do you mind telling me what’s got you so distracted?”

No.

You’d been attracted to your boss from the very first moment you saw him, but it was something you had hoped would fade away over time, not build immensely with every second you spent within his orbit. You’d been able to manage your draw to him for the first six months under his wing, burying yourself in case work and impressing him with your extensive medical knowledge, but there was something about the way he looked at you on the plane that night. It was as if he knew what you were trying to hide this whole time, as if he was delighted by the knowledge that he kept close to his chest along with everything else. There was something about that glimmer in his eye as everyone else dozed on the jet that made you believe he felt the same way, but he would only let it slip just long enough to instill a delusion in you so great that it haunted your dreams.

Dreams that left you aching for his touch, yearning for his sweat to melt into your skin as he hoarsely moaned your name before nipping at your skin. Dreams that were so vivid, you had to convince yourself that they were fake, taking inventory of what interactions had actually happened, and which had been fabricated by the melatonin in your brain. No wonder your work has gotten sloppy.

“Nothing, sir.” You lie, fearing the worst if he finds out that you have some stupid school girl crush on him.

He exhales slowly, disappointment weighing on his breath as he leans forward in his chair to silently close the file. “Whatever it is that you’re dealing with is affecting your work, and I’d be remiss to ignore it. The last time I let something like this slide, another agent’s life hung in the balance.” He paused, no doubt referring to Prentiss’ ordeal with Doyle. “Now, why don’t you try again and give me the truth?”

You’re not getting out of this, are you? He’s going to find out the truth sooner or later, no matter how hard you work to cover it up. He always does. That’s his job, for Christ’s sake. How could you have been so arrogant to think that you could keep something like this from the best profiler in the country? From your own boss? How could you think that he wouldn’t catch on to the blatantly obvious signs you’ve been so desperately trying (and failing) to hide from him for months now?

“I just…” it pained you to start. “I just haven’t been sleeping very well lately.” It wasn’t a lie, per se. Your suggestive dreams had forced you to stave off the sandman as long as possible for fear that you might say his name on the jet or in the hotel room you shared with JJ while you slept. There were no secrets amongst profilers, especially in slumber, and he was so close to finding out yours, you just couldn’t risk it.

“No? And why is that?” He raises his eyebrows as he looks you over, pushing the file to the side. “Are you having nightmares? It took Reid a few months to adjust to this job, too, but eventually the nightmares faded. We have an excellent therapist I can refer you to if that’s what you need.”

“Not nightmares, sir, no.” You knew that if you lied to him outright he’d know immediately, his trust in you lost forever. You weren’t exactly sure which fate was worse, him losing respect for you or him finding out that you have feelings for him.

This was going to be more difficult than any case you’d ever worked on.

“Then what is it?” His expression remains neutral as he stares you down, patiently awaiting your answer.

You sigh heavily as you realize you’ve run out of time and euphemisms . Here goes nothing.

“I’ve been having … dreams about someone on the team, and no matter how hard I try to ignore it, how many times I’ve tried to bury it down, these dreams, these images have stirred something inside me that I can’t quite shake.” You look down at your feet as you nearly confess the whole truth, your voice wavering the closer you come to revealing yourself.

“Someone on the team?” He repeats back to you after clearing his throat, his tone a little more husky than normal. “What kind of dreams?”

As if he didn’t already know the answer.

“Sir, I…” you stammer, unable to form your lips around the words as that infernal heat returns to your cheeks, making you feel as if you’re about to catch fire right here in his office.

“Are these dreams… sexual in nature?” You’ve heard him say that word about a thousand times before, referring to the motives and orientations of the unsubs that you chased, but this time it was different. This time it was laced with something personal, as if he had suspected it all along, but couldn’t quite bring it to your attention until he had a solid case of irrefutable evidence.

Always the profiler.

“Yes, sir.” You swallow hard as he gets closer to the truth, beads of sweat forming at your temples as you watch the puzzle pieces click into place in his mind.

“And who are they about?” He keeps his eyes on you, leaning forward ever so slightly.

“It doesn’t really matter, sir.” Another lie, your sense of self preservation still fighting for its life in the recesses of your mind.

“No?” He tilts his head with a hint of a smirk as if your answer gave him everything he needed to know. “I think that it does. I could be more cautious about who I put you with in the field until we get all this figured out, keep you two separated in the office.” He leans forward onto his elbows, eyes sparkling with a scoldingly delicious sense of judgment. “Now, I want you to tell me who you’re dreaming about, agent, and know that if you try to lie to me again I’ll know.”

Shit.

“It won’t make a difference, I have to see you every day no matter who you pair me with.” You let the truth slip out a little quicker than you expected, surprising even yourself as you prepare to be berated, fired, or worse yet, laughed at.

Only that doesn’t happen.

The silence that follows your confession is monumental, hanging in the air between you two like a cloud collecting moisture from the seemingly calm bodies of water below it, growing darker and heavier with each passing second. It weighs you down, pushing onto your chest and almost paralyzing you until he says something… anything at all to break the silence and let the rain fall from the sky to wash away this painfully awkward moment of vulnerability.

“The bureau frowns on interpersonal relationships between its team members, especially those involving an agent and her superior officer.” He spouts off the official statement the FBI has ingrained into him since he joined, his usual robotic tone returning briefly before he takes in a slow, deep breath.

“I know that, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything, you just…” you start rambling in a hurried attempt to take the focus off what he had just discovered.

He raises a hand to get you to stop, his Adam's Apple bobbing up and down in his throat before finally speaking again. “But that doesn’t mean it can’t happen.”

What?! What did he just say? Are you still dreaming?

“What?” You blink a few dozen times in order to reorient yourself, attempting to decipher if this interaction is, in fact, real or imagined. You dig your thumbnail into your palm just to be sure, inflicting a flash of pain into your skin to ground you in this reality. You’re definitely not dreaming.

“If that’s something you actually want.” His words pierce that heavy cloud looming between you, releasing a steady stream of rain sprinkling down as the dark gray color fades to a sheer, translucent white. “If not, you should tell me now.”

You can barely catch your breath, barely find the words to express all the emotions you’d kept under lock and key for so long.

“No, of course I do. Of course I want it, I want you.” You can’t believe that he’s actually interested in this, that he’s entertaining the idea of being romantically involved with you at all. If he had felt the same way about you this whole time, harbored these forbidden desires along with you, then his stoic nature had definitely served its purpose in keeping it close to his vest. “You’re not upset?”

“Why would I be upset?” His mahogany eyes hold your gaze through thick, onyx lashes as his lips curl into a soft smirk. “Do you think I haven’t noticed all those stolen glances from across the briefing room, or how long they linger on my face and hands? That I’ve been blind to the way your pulse races whenever I touch you, or the way your breath hitches when I say your name or give you even an ounce of praise?”

Oh god, he’s good. He’s had you figured out this whole time, hasn’t he?

“How long have you known?” You finally manage to ask, straightening your spine in an attempt to regain some composure as that heat starts to spread from your neck and chest down into your core, forcing the muscles in your abdomen to clench.

“I’ve suspected it for a while now, but I had to be sure.” He leans back in his chair, that disciplinary look in his eyes replaced by something far more dangerous. “Tell me more about these dreams. What are we doing in them that keeps you so distracted?”

Your mouth falls open in surprise, your heart suddenly galloping in your chest. “Tell you… more, sir?”

“Do you call me ‘sir’ in these dreams, too?” He asks almost immediately, raising an eyebrow in eager curiosity.

The rest of the moisture that resided in that metaphorical misty cloud suddenly pours down in thunderous sheets of rain, nearly soaking you both in a layer of desire in the process. That heat inside of you is barely assuaged, though, and only continues to grow in intensity as his words taunt you to take the lead.

“Yes, sir, I do.” You respond breathlessly.

“Good girl.” He watches your face as you react to the term, as if he’s waiting for an unsub to fall into one of his traps that he’s so expertly laid before them, grinning from ear to ear when your blush only deepens.

“You’ve been profiling me,” you defend yourself as he clocks your daddy issues with little effort, trying to slow the rapid beating of your heart as you take the bait. “That’s not fair.”

He stands up from his seat and slowly walks around his desk, each step slow and deliberate until he’s standing in front of you, gently leaning his hips against his desk so that they’re now level with your eyes. “What isn’t fair, agent, is that you hid this from me when we could have done something about it months ago.” He folds his arms across his chest and looks down at you. “I don’t intend on letting you leave this office until we’ve fixed this problem, is that understood?”

“Yes.” You stare at his hips, eyeing the growing outline of what lies between them before shifting your gaze back up at his face through heavy lids.

“Good. Now, tell me more about your dreams.” He leans back just a little, the confidence of kings emanating from his newly relaxed posture. “Am I praising you or punishing you in them?”

“Punishing me.” Your stomach flips as you look down at your feet, still somehow ashamed of your subconscious desire.

“Punishing you, how?” He reaches out and grabs your chin, not allowing you to hide from the truth as he tilts your face upward, forcing you to look at him.

“I…” Your lip quivers as he squeezes your chin a little tighter, forcing that moisture to collect between your thighs as you rub them together.

“Use your words, agent,” he orders.

Goddamnit. Had he actually seen the content of your dreams, somehow? Or were you just that easy to read?

“You had me bent over your desk with my skirt up around my waist, your tie shoved in my mouth and your handprint on my cheeks,” you finally oblige him, letting your mind wander to the delicious details of your most recent dream, watching his breath hitch ever so slightly before he clears his throat.

“Did I, now?” He raises an eyebrow at your confession as he searches your face for any signs of deception. As if you would lie about any of this. “And the other times?”

“Other times?” You whisper as he lifts his thumb off your chin to brush it across your bottom lip, slightly tugging on it to view your teeth before letting it bounce back into place. You can see his pupils expanding with each passing second, those different shades of chocolate and mahogany blending together into the darkest shade of espresso you’ve ever seen. He’s looking at you the way he had in each and every one of your fantasies, only this time it isn’t some salacious trick of the mind; this time it’s real. “The other times I’m going down on you on the jet while everyone else sleeps, or you’re fingering me underneath the conference table while Garcia briefs us on a new case.”

He grins and pulls on your bottom lip again, watching in awe as he tugs it halfway down your chin, stretching it enough to smear some of your spit across your chin. “You've got quite the imagination… fantasizing about me degrading you on government property, right here in my office.”

“Mmm hmmm.” You hum as he slowly glides his thumb into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue before you instinctively wrap your lips around it, tasting the salt of his skin for the very first time.

“Is that what you want? You want to be punished?” His voice is hoarse now, that last bit of control he has slowly evaporated away into nothingness. “Do you think you deserve it?”

“Mmm hmmm,” you repeat, sucking his thumb all the way down to the knuckle, stroking it with your tongue to show him what you can do.

“We’ll see about that.” He leans in close enough to whisper into your ear. “Now get up and bend yourself over my desk.”

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #thomas gibson #criminal minds #aaron hotchner fan fiction #criminal minds fan fiction

71 notes · View notes

ch33z3grits · 13 hours ago

Text

Crimson Obsessions | A Terry Richmond Vampire Series

pairing: Aaron Pierre as Terry Richmond x Justine Skye as Camille DeWaterson

summary: Camille attempts to return to her usual life in Houston, trying her best to forget the club owner that stays on her mind and in her heart. But a new member of her firm shows her that she won’t be forgetting that night anytime soon. Terry has used the time since the bachelorette party to find the best way to insert himself in Camille’s life. Taking advantage of a chance opportunity, fate if you will, he starts to put his plan into motion.

warnings: 18+ mdni, dark romance, manipulation, obsessiveness/possessiveness, mentions of sexual acts, mentions of BDSM, cyberstalking

word count: 6,624

a/n: thank you all for the feedback on the last part! This part is definitely less spicy... BUT, it does give a lot of background that's necessary for the rest of the story. Hope you all enjoy :)

Camille’s song: Can’t Get You Out of My Head-Kylie Minogue | Terry’s song: Excitement-Trippie Redd

Pt. Two

Camille

Camille was pulled out of her sleep by the soft harping of her alarm. Groggily, she blinked the remnants of her dream from her eyes. It was a dream similar to the ones she’s had every night since she had returned from New Orleans. The mysterious club owner, on his knees with her legs draped over his shoulders, slurping her dripping pussy like it was his last meal. Or he would be folding her like a pretzel, digging her out until she saw stars. Or he would press her into a wall, thrusting into her from behind. He would tell her she was being such a good girl for him. His eyes would bore into hers as he relentlessly sent her over the edge multiple times. She would be trapped in his gaze until her alarm came to her rescue every morning.

Like usual, her fiancé’s side of the bed was already empty. Aston McCoy was determined to make junior partner early at the law firm they both worked at. To show the leadership at Watkins & Grant that he was the perfect candidate for promotion, Aston would arrive at the office an hour and a half earlier than everyone else. His early arrival required that he leave the apartment they shared at 5:30 AM to get to the office by 6:00 AM.

Camille didn’t mind waking up to an empty bed every weekday morning. In fact, she looked forward to it. Don’t get her wrong, she enjoyed Aston’s company. But these quiet mornings were slowly becoming the only moments she had where she was away from him. After moving into his apartment three months ago, Camille realized that his presence consumed every part of her life. They worked together, lived together, ate together, shopped together, went to events together. And they always seemed to only do things he wanted to do. Camille couldn’t help but feel like she was losing her life and getting absorbed by his.

She threw off the comforter and stood from the bed, trudging towards the bathroom to begin her daily routine. After brushing her teeth and doing her skincare, she turned the shower on to let the water warm up as she walked into the closet to pick out her outfit for the day. Like her father, Aston was very concerned with image. Because of this, he always encouraged her to wear things that “whispered wealth.” He bought her expensive work dresses from brands that his old money friends mentioned. He encouraged her to keep her nails short and neutral. And he always wanted her makeup and hair to be feature enhancing, free from any distracting colors or textures. For the most part, Camille didn’t mind because she naturally went for the look that Aston wanted. But whenever she did drift outside of her comfort zone, it was always met with displeasure.

Camille reached for a black turtleneck sweater, a black maxi skirt, and nude pumps. The Houston weather had been all over the place. Even though it was mid February, the temperature climbed to 70 degrees some days then dropped into the 40s right after. Today was one of those 40 degree days, so Camille hoped her outfit was enough to keep her warm. She laid the clothes on the bed, then proceeded to strip and get in the shower. After washing up, she stepped out to apply her lotion and perfume. For her makeup, she took her sweet time at the vanity space, savoring the still morning. Once she applied the finishing touches, she returned to the bed to pull on her outfit. Lastly, she pulled her silk pressed hair into a sleek bun.

Same old same old, Camille thought, bracing herself for the somewhat stressful day. When she first took the paralegal job at Watkins & Grant that Aston helped her secure, she was beyond excited. She envisioned herself working with a diverse team of attorneys, diving into a variety of cases and tackling a wide range of legal issues. But Aston had other plans. He convinced his managers to funnel all his cases her way, effectively monopolizing her workload. Every once in a while, one of the other associates would pass along a case that sparked her interest—like something in Environmental Law—but those moments were rare. Most of the time, Camille was buried in Aston’s Property and Financial Assets portfolio. She appreciated the privilege of her position, she knew how fortunate she was. But working for her partner wasn’t easy. He ran a tight ship and his workload was more than average, meaning hers was more than average too.

After checking that everything was in her work bag, Camille moved towards the large apartment’s front door. I’ll get breakfast at the office, she decided as she rode the elevator down to the parking deck. She slid into her Lexus, placing her bag on the passenger seat. Aston preferred that she came to work with him in his Porsche Cayenne. But she loved the Lexus that her dad bought her after she graduated from college. Besides, she wasn’t waking up three hours early just so her coworkers didn’t see her older car.

Camille’s guilty pleasure, the NASA Curious Universe podcast, got her through her 30 minute commute to the office and her search for a parking spot in the packed deck. With a final sigh, she grabbed her bag and stepped out of her car.

“Good morning, Mr. Pat,” she waved to the security guard who watched the deck most days. Mr. Pat waved back, giving her a warm smile she didn’t know she needed. “Good morning Ms. Camille,” he replied. “Don’t work yourself too hard today!”

“I’ll try my best,” Camille called back with a giggle. But she knew that today would be like every other work day. Aston would pile on the work, she'd eat lunch at her desk, and stay late to finish it all. But she couldn’t complain. After their honeymoon, Aston wanted her to stay at home, which she didn’t mind at all. Though she dreamed of using her Economics degree to become a florist and open her own shop, staying home was still better than being Aston's glorified personal assistant.

“Good morning, Mr. Watkins. How was your weekend?” She said as she stepped into the elevator with one of her bosses. Camille always greeted the senior partner of the firm, Mr. Charles Watkins. He always extended kindness to her and often tried to get Aston to lighten her load. “Camille, how’re you doing?! My weekend was just perfect. The missus and I tried to go sledding in North Dakota with our grandkids. It was a disaster because of my bad knee,” he laughed. “But going anywhere with Mabel is always a great time for me.” Camille smiled brightly as he babbled on. Mr. Watkins always spoke highly of his wife of thirty-six years, Mabel. Maybe one day, if their love evolved beyond fulfilling their familial duties, Aston would talk about her like that. But for now, she settled for the mutual respect and attraction they had for each other.

In college, Camille had fallen deeply in love with Aston when they got together sophomore year. But two years into their relationship, she discovered he’d been cheating on her for eight months. The betrayal shattered her. They broke up, despite his protests, and Camille wasn’t swayed by his desperate attempts to win her back. Their fathers had to step in, reminding them that their relationship was never about love—it was a business arrangement. “We’re not here for love, Camille. We’re here to merge Texas oil with Louisiana oil refining,” her father had said. So, Camille and Aston reconciled in their senior year, but Camille kept her heart locked away, vowing to never to be as open with him, or anyone else, as she once had been.

“Oh Camille, by the way. Will you be in the office around 11:00 AM today? Grant and I have an announcement to make and we want to make sure the whole team is present.” Camille started to nod. Of course she would be, she never had time to leave the office.

“Yes sir, I’ll be there. Will the announcement be in the conference room?”

“It sure will be! You’re always one step ahead of me, Camille,” he chuckled as the elevator finally paused on their floor. “Well, I’ll see you then. Tell McCoy I said good morning.” With that, Mr. Watkins walked out of the elevator and rounded the corner towards his wing of the office.

Camille walked in the opposite direction towards Aston’s office, smiling politely at her coworkers along the way. The glass walls of Aston’s office showed him already hard at work. A coffee cup and an open Celsius sat on his desk, hinting as to why he had so much energy already. She knocked lightly on the glass door before letting herself in. He rose from his desk as a smile spread across his face.

“Morning baby!” He greeted with his Texas drawl. Camille couldn’t help but return his smile. Despite his past discrepancies, and some of his overbearing and superficial ways, he was a genuinely pleasant person. He maintained a positive attitude and he could always brighten up a room. He was like a golden retriever.

“Good morning,” Camille giggled back. “You seem to be in a really good mood. Did I miss something?” Camille said, placing her stuff on the desk in the corner of his office.

He bit his fist, laughing softly. “Baby… I think today’s the day. I think they’re going to announce that I’m the new junior partner!” Camille gave him a warm smile. “I’m so proud of you! Look at you, all of your hard work is paying off and ahead of schedule,” Camille stated, walking around his desk to give him a hug. He returned the hug with enthusiasm, rocking her back and forth in his arms. “Thank you, baby.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “You know what this means? No more early mornings! We’ll be able to come into the office together.”

Camille nodded, a pang of guilt going through her. She didn’t want to give up her mornings alone…

“Wow, I mean who would’ve thought that he would be making junior partner before his 35th birthday,” Aston sighed, looking at the picture of himself that sat on his desk. He was standing in the DKR stadium at their Alma mater, the University of Texas, his arm extended with his hand in a “hook ‘em Horns” gesture.

Camille smiled at his silliness and patted his torso before pulling away from their embrace. “Mr. Watkins or Mr. Grant hinted at it or something?” She asked.

“Yea, Grant was in the office early today and he swung by to tell me that they’re making a big announcement today that I’m going to be very pleased with.” Camille didn’t think his smile could get any wider, but it did. “Well I’ll be sure to be the first one in the conference room to get a good seat, so I can get a good picture of you,” Camille said, feeling a bit better about the day.

“Thanks for being so supportive, Millie,” Aston sighed happily. Camille inwardly cringed at the nickname she never had the heart to tell him that she hated. “But,” he continued, his tone getting more serious. “We gotta make sure this chapter of my career ends productively. You ready to do one final sprint, babe?” Camille nodded with a closed mouth smile as he dropped a thick stack of papers on her desk. She knew she would be glued to her desk until it was time to go to the conference. Bracing herself, she opened the file and got to work.

Two hours later, she sighed with relief as Aston’s watch went off, signaling that it was fifteen minutes until 11 AM. She rolled her wrist to bring her cramped hand back to life. Aston rose from his desk and began to pace between his office mirror and his coat hanger that held his suit jacket.

“What do you think baby? Should I wear the suit jacket or does it look too formal?” He asked, nervously looking at her through the mirror as he adjusted his tie. “The suit jacket,” she said. “It screams junior partner.” He smiled in agreement. He threw it on and gave himself one final look.

He opened the door for Camille and they headed down the hall to the grand conference room. Once inside, they sat near the head of the table, eagerly awaiting the good news.

Within the next five minutes, dozens of other employees began to file into the room. The early birds were able to grab seats at the long table, while those who dragged their feet had to find standing room. At around 10:57, Mr. Watkins and Mr. Grant walked in, quieting the chatter that filled the space. Aston squeezed Camille’s thigh under the table with excitement.

“Thank you all for making it to this meeting! We've been excited to share this announcement for some time now, but we had some logistical issues we had to work out,” Mr. Watkins proceeded after clearing his throat. “Since we started this firm, Tom and I have always been careful in our selection of partners. As the face of the firm, they had to be exceptional. We wanted a partner who is disciplined, innovative, and exceeds expectations. And we are glad to say that we found that partner. From the moment we met him, we knew that this young man would go far, farther than either one of us.” Aston’s grip on Camille tightened. “He’s so promising, that even at his age, he’s going to be made a partner instead of a junior partner. But before we dive into his bio, let’s introduce you all to our newest member of the Watkins & Grant family, Mr. Terrence Richmond.” Both Camille and Aston stiffened, his hand slowly loosening from her thigh. Camille looked at Aston from the corner of her eye, seeing shock cross his face.

Oh no, she thought as she joined the resounding applause that filled the air. She hadn’t yet looked at the large figure entering the conference room, instead focusing on Aston’s shifting expression. And he was so excited… the poor thing.

“Oh my God,” Stephanie, Mr. Grant’s secretary, whispered to her friends. “I’d love to ride that pony!” That statement made Camille’s attention snap to the newcomer. As her eyes landed on his face, her applause faltered and her stomach dropped. It was him. The man who had been consuming her mind since Chloe's party. The man who haunted her every fantasy, lingering in her mind when she least wanted him to. The man she’d been desperately trying to forget, to quiet the guilt that gnawed at her every night as she laid next to Aston.

Even with subtle changes, he was unmistakable. His cornrows had been replaced by a low, curly fade. His face was now clean-shaven, except for a sharp goatee and thick, commanding eyebrows. The gold chains were gone, replaced by a sleek silver watch. Despite these shifts in appearance, he was undeniably the same man she had danced on with four weeks ago, the one who still burned in her memory.

If he recognized her, he didn’t show it. His eyes only lingered on hers for a second before shifting to another person. Camille quickly regained her composure and resumed clapping. Maybe he doesn’t remember me, she thought. He’s probably gone through enough women by now that he’s forgotten my face. Camille relaxed slightly. Yea, there’s no way he remembers me.

“Mr. Richmond is an excellent attorney who, after a lot of begging on our end, has agreed to a one year rotation as a partner with us,” Mr. Grant, who never speaks highly of anyone, chimed in. “His portfolio will cover intellectual property, government contracts, and impact investing. Some of our associates, like Aston McCoy, have been trying to get us to add intellectual property and impact investing to our services for years. Now that we have Terry, we’ll be able to expand our reach in the world of law, and interested associates will be able to work under him.” Mr. Grant nodded in Aston’s direction. Aston gave him a tight-lipped smile as he continued. “Prior to law, Mr. Richmond served in the United States Marine Corps for seven years, where he was a MCMAP instructor while simultaneously earning his bachelor’s in civil engineering. After exiting the service, he attended Florida A&M University’s College of Law where he graduated top of his class. Out of several offers, he chose to work with the prestigious Washington D.C. firm, Cravath. Under Cravath, he worked with clients like the Department of Defense and Microsoft with cases surrounding crypto, AI, and energy systems. Now, Cravath is letting us borrow him for the year as a part of a national attorney swap program.” Mr. Grant paused to lead everyone in another round of applause. “Mr. Richmond, is there anything else you’d like to share with us?” Mr. Grant asked.

Terrence Richmond smiled brightly. “Mr. Watkins and Mr. Grant, thank you for such a lovely and thorough introduction. And thank you all in advance for welcoming me to your team. I hope I’m able to learn a lot from you all and hope that you all find that my presence adds value here. Please feel free to drop by my office at any time, I’m always happy to chat. And please,” he added, the entire room hanging on his every word. “Just call me Terry.”

A fresh wave of enthusiastic applause rippled through the conference room, signaling the end of the formal meeting. The room buzzed with energy as people eagerly swarmed Terry to introduce themselves. Camille wished she could melt into the wall, desperate to slip out unnoticed. But before she could formulate a plan, Aston was already on his feet, pulling her toward a door on the opposite side of the room, away from Terry. As they made their escape, Camille couldn't resist a glance over her shoulder. Everyone was too absorbed in fawning over Terry and his impressive resume to notice them leaving, except for one person.

Terry.

His eyes locked onto her like a hawk and he flashed her a sly smile that sent a wave of heat through her. She quickly looked away, heart racing. She still wanted to believe he didn’t remember her, but that look left her uncertain.

Aston continued to drag her into his office, closing the door once they were inside. Camille watched as he paced the room, thinking of the best way to calm him down. She swallowed. “Bab–” he cut her off swiftly.

“What the hell was that?! Are they fucking kidding me,” he yelled, making Camille wince. “I’ve been busting my ass for the past three years here and they just let this new guy waltz in and become, not even junior partner, but partner?! Well, fuck me in the ass,” he grumbled.

“Language Aston, please,” Camille sighed.

“No Millie. This isn’t fucking fair. I mean, who even is this guy? Should’nt he still be in the fucking Marines! What the hell is he practicing civilian law for?” He continued to pace. “And what school is Florida A&M? I’ve never heard of it. I went to Yale for Christ’s sake! Did they really think I’d be happy about this? Just because he expands our portfolio in the way I suggested?!”

Camille placed her hands on his shoulders, attempting to soothe him. “Baby, please. I know you’re upset and disappointed, but you can’t react like this. At least not here.” Aston pinched the bridge of his nose and took a few deep breaths. “What if someone sees you?” She whispered. He froze momentarily, glancing at the office’s transparent walls.

“You’re… you’re right, babe. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for cursing. Come on, let’s just get back to work,” he walked away from her and plopped down behind his desk. Camille released a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She knew he didn’t feel any better, but he put on a relaxed face anyway. That would have to be good enough for now. She slowly walked back to her desk, returning to the thick stack of documents. The office was silent except for the clacking of Aston’s keyboard and an occasional click of a mouse. But a few minutes later, Aston started back up again.

“I mean, where’d they even find this fucking guy!” He quipped. Camille groaned, dropping the highlighter in her hand.

“He’s on the goddamn MCMAP Wikipedia page. Watkins & Grant can’t let some damn jiu-jitsu instructor represent them. They–”

He was cut off by a knock. Camille and Aston’s head snapped to the door. Behind it stood Mr. Watkins… and the devil himself. Aston plastered on a fake smile and waved them in enthusiastically. “Come on in!”

“McCoy, Camille. You both rushed out of that meeting like two bats running out of hell. But I know how y’all like to keep yourselves busy. Just wanted to stop by so Mr. Richmond could meet you two,” Mr. Watkins explained as they stepped inside. Terry let out a deep chuckle, sending a ripple of pleasure through Camille.

“Please, just call me Terry.” He said, extending his hand to Aston. Aston’s fake smile twitched. “Great to meet you, Terry. Welcome to the firm!”

“I appreciate it,” Terry returned, his eyes settling on Camille’s. He licked his lips as his eyes swept over her figure, but the other two men didn’t notice. “Ms. Camille, a pleasure to meet you as well.” Camille gulped as she grasped his large, extended hand. She tried to pull away after a brief shake, but he gripped her hand just a little bit tighter, his thumb tracing light circles on the back of her hand. She shuddered. Shit, he does remember me. And he isn’t going to pretend like nothing happened between us.

“Nice to meet you too, Terry.” She looked away from his unyielding gaze.

“Now Terry, I told you plenty about McCoy on our walk over here. But not nearly enough about Camille! She’s the greatest paralegal that the associates have, but McCoy here likes to hog her. But I guess that’s to be expected of her future husband.”

“Future husband?” Terry interjected. “Y’all are engaged?” He asked casually, turning his attention to Aston.

Aston nodded vigorously. “Yep, for the past four months.”

Camille’s stomach sank as he looked back at her and gave her a predatory smile. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” she squeaked, feeling like a lamb in the jaws of a wolf.

“But we’ve gotta split these two up eventually, it’s only fair.” Mr. Watkins chimed in. “Camille will start having more diversity in the cases she helps with. So if you ever need a hand, Terry, please feel free to reach out to her.”

“Oh, I will. Most definitely,” Terry purred, causing Camille’s face to heat up.

“Great! Well, we will leave you all to it. Don’t forget to take your lunch,” Mr. Watkins called out, holding the glass door open for Terry. Terry gave Camille one last heated stare, before turning to walk out of the office.

Terry

Terry chuckled to himself as he thought about how Camille reacted to him walking into the conference room. Her fine ass looked exactly how he wanted her to. A doe caught in the headlights. Her dark brown eyes widened and her mouth fell agape comically. He had to hold in his laugh so he could give the rest of her colleagues a polite introduction.

When Terry pulled up her LinkedIn the day after she left Crimson, a satisfied grin tugged at his lips when he saw her listed as a paralegal. Fate was definitely on his side. Over the years, Terry had cycled through countless careers and identities, always one step ahead of those who might start asking too many questions or notice that he doesn’t really age. While he was deeply involved with Crimson and other ventures catering to the supernatural, he had also kept a foot in the legal world, practicing law on and off for the past four decades. He would spend years establishing himself as a sought-after attorney, only to disappear and reinvent himself in a new city when the time was right. Currently, he was one of the most respected lawyers in Washington, D.C. Last year, he joined a nationwide network of top-tier lawyers, offering their expertise to other firms. Firms across the country had courted him, but none had been as persistent as Watkins & Grant. So when Terry saw that a particular paralegal worked there, he decided to finally accept their generous offer. A few weeks later he was sitting in an opulent executive suite with his name on the door and his beloved Camille only a stone’s throw away.

Of course, Terry didn’t stop at Camille’s LinkedIn. After much digging, he found her social media handles, as well as the ones that belonged to her friends and family. Hundreds of pictures, tweets, videos, and articles helped him piece together her life. Camille was the second child of Colin and Anastasia DeWaterson, a business executive turned oil refinery owner and a celebrity costume designer. While Anastasia came from wealth, Colin came from humble beginnings. A country boy from Alabama who climbed the ranks of Georgia Power after gaining a business degree from Morehouse. The couple married in their early twenties and welcomed their first child, Colin DeWaterson Jr., after two years of marriage. One year later, they had Camille. Three years after that, they had their second daughter, Chloe. Their fourth and final child, Cole, came almost eight years after.

The DeWatersons main residence was originally in Jonesboro, Georgia. But the children were rarely there. Colin Jr. was overseas in a German boarding school specializing in math and technology. Camille and Chloe were a bit closer to home attending a boarding school in Virginia. And Cole was in California at a school with a top-ranked basketball program. But in Camille’s sophomore year of high school, Mr. DeWaterson relocated his family to Louisiana after a distant relative passed, unexpectedly leaving him ownership of a few oil refineries in the state. From then on, Mr. DeWaterson attached himself to every wealthy family he could. And his connections seemed to pay off. The DeWatersons grew in popularity and became pinnacles of Black excellence in Louisiana.

But as time went on, the family seemed to attract scandals at every turn. A few years ago, rumors began to circulate that DeWaterson Sr. had an affair with a secretary, resulting in a baby. Although he denied the claims, he supposedly refused to participate in a DNA test and gave his secretary an undisclosed amount of money. Mrs. DeWaterson, battling stage three breast cancer, refused to make public appearances with her husband for over a year. At the same time, the youngest DeWaterson daughter began acting out. She dropped out of her Ivy League school to run off to LA with her then-boyfriend, a rising fashion designer. She got into a physical altercation outside of a LA nightclub, which was highly publicized. And she decided to go skinny dipping in a fountain at a well attended charity event. The DeWaterson sons also made headlines. During a sermon at his great uncle’s church, Colin Jr. came out to the entire congregation with his boyfriend. And Cole was accused of arson at his high school in Louisiana shortly after he transferred.

The only person who remained blemish free since the DeWatersons rise to notoriety was Camille. No scandalous articles, messy drama, or embarrassing incidents about her came to the surface as Terry continued his thorough search. Only mentions of her various awards, philanthropic acts, and social outings. But one particular article really piqued Terry’s interest. “The McCoy and DeWaterson Ties are Binding in More Ways Than One: The Engagement of the South.” The webpage outlined how the children of business partners Richard McCoy and Colin DeWaterson Sr. were soon to be wed. The author also accused the couple of joining together not for love, but to secure another level of wealth for their families. And Terry couldn’t agree more. As he analyzed the relationship further, he concluded that this was all orchestrated by their fathers. Camille would do anything to please her father and protect her family’s name. Even if that meant she had to sign her life away to some entitled white boy.

Terry let out a pleased sigh when he finally ended his investigation into Camille DeWaterson. It appeared he had a sweet, obedient, good girl on his hands. Women like her were always the most satisfying challenges. He was going to enjoy stealing Camille away from her fiancé and turning her into his personal slut. Overstimulation, edging, sensory deprivation, primal play, shibari… he would introduce her to it all. He would ruin her over and over and over again, breaking her down until she was a slutted out, cock-drunk mess. And when she breaks, he will gladly put her back together again. He would nail her to the cross just to resurrect her so he could be at her beck and call. She’d be his pampered sex kitten that he would spoil rotten, happily giving her the life that she deserved and freeing her from the exhaustion of being Little Miss Perfect. A kept woman who wouldn't have to do anything but love him.

But accomplishing this would require more than just working at Watkins & Grant. Terry would have to do much more to reel Camillle in and push McCoy out of the way. And he had to start now.

He opened the new laptop on his desk that was provided to him earlier that morning. All of the necessary accounts and applications had been installed and downloaded by the IT department. He only cared about one app at the moment, though.

Teams.

Every employee was just one message away. He scrolled through the names until he found Camille’s. He let out a ‘hmmm’ when he saw the green dot next to her name. She was available and online, prompting Terry to send her a quick, straightforward message.

Camille

Camille’s heart thumped loudly at the message that flashed in the corner of her computer screen.

Come here. We need to talk.

The devil was beckoning her to his office, and she had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. The man could easily reveal what they did a few weekends ago to Aston, and her life would go up in flames. He could dangle that night over her head for the next year if he wanted to. He wants to blackmail me, Camille thought as she chewed on her lip. Why else would he be giving me those taunting looks? What other reason would make him call me to his office?

Camille desperately wanted to decline, knowing that any interaction with him could only lead to trouble. But what choice did she have? Avoiding him might piss him off. And who knows what he’ll do if that happens.

OK.

She sent the response and immediately shut her laptop. He couldn’t make any more demands of her if she couldn’t see them. Aston paused briefly at the sound of her device closing. “You going to lunch now?” he asked. “Yep,” she responded. That’s the perfect excuse, she thought. “Where are you going?” he pushed further. Camille chewed her lip nervously. She was always a bad liar. “I’m not sure yet. I’m feeling a little spontaneous.” She grabbed her bag and moved towards the door to avoid more questions.

“Wherever you go, can you get me something with chicken?” She grimaced. Now, she actually had to leave the building. “Sure, babe. I’ll be back soon.” And with that, she began her journey to Terry’s office.

His office sat within the executive wing of the floor, where the top employees got to enjoy the best views, the sleekest offices, and their own personal bathrooms. Terry’s new office had sat vacant for months and was often visited by Aston when he made his rounds in the morning. “This’ll be mine one day,” he would tell Camille from time to time. She understood his admiration of the space.

The office featured twelve-foot ceilings with floor-to-ceiling windows offering an unobstructed view of the Houston skyline. The space was fully equipped with the latest technology: a sleek smart screen, a modern kitchenette, and remote-controlled blinds. While the walls were glass like the other offices, a simple press of a button gave the glass an opaque frost, instantly giving the occupant privacy. It even had a connecting room, dedicated for a personal assistant. All in all, the room exuded a sense of sophistication, making it a space where work and luxury effortlessly coexisted. Any other time, Camille would be excited to take a trip to the executive wing. But this time, she was terrified.

She softly knocked on the door bearing the plaque “Terrence Richmond,” still trying to think of a way to get out of this situation. But the butter smooth voice that said “Come in” on the other side of the door told her that there was no escaping. Camille quickly stepped inside and shut the door behind her. Tucking her hands nervously behind her back, she watched Terry lazily toss a mini Houston Rockets basketball up and down, up and down. One of his welcome gifts from Mr. Watkins, she assumed. She couldn’t help but admire the beautiful man for a moment. His perfectly chiseled face. His plump lips. The way his muscles flexed beneath his clothing. He was like a dream come true. But Camille knew she had to wake herself up, because he could easily make her reality a nightmare. She cleared her throat, snapping herself out of the trance.

“You wanted to see me?” She asked quickly, just wanting to get this over with. He gave her a cheeky smile, making her knees buckle momentarily. “Hello to you too, Camille.” Her cheeks heated up as she mentally chastised herself. That was a little passive aggressive. She let out the breath she had been holding and approached his desk. “Look Terry, I know you probably want to make this as torturous for me as possible. But can you make this little game of yours quick, I have to get to lunch.”

Terry’s smile faded into confusion, his tossing coming to a stop. “What are you talking about?” Camille forced herself not to roll her eyes as she sat in the plush leather seat across from him. “You have some leverage that you can use against me. So what do you want? Let’s not dance around this.”

“Woah, woah, woah.” He threw his hands up innocently. “Honestly Camille, I called you in to say that if you stay cool, I’ll stay cool. I don’t want to make any problems for you.”

Her chest tightened as she searched his eyes for any insincerity. She didn’t find any. Shit. Camille had completely miscalculated his intentions. And had the nerve to accuse him of messing with her head! That whole interaction they had in Aston’s office was probably meaningless. She was the pervert for thinking that the looks he gave her or the tone he had were sexually charged. She slumped in the chair, upset that she had jumped to conclusions. With a shaky sigh, she said, “Terry, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have come for you like that. It’s just that…when I saw your message, I-I panicked-”

“Camille.” He interrupted gently. “You don’t have to apologize. This is exactly why I wanted to talk. I don’t want you to think that I would try to hurt you or your career. I was serious when I said that what happened would stay between us.” Terry’s words soothed her frayed nerves, but intensified her guilt. She was the one who risked her relationship and made him out to be the bad guy, but he was handling her like an innocent puppy.

“So do we understand each other?” Terry asked, his voice soft with an authoritative edge. She nodded. “Yea…thanks for addressing this, Terry. Can we just start over?” His dazzling smile returned, and she swooned internally.

“Yes ma’am.” he chuckled. “You can start by telling me a little bit about yourself.”

Terry

Ignoring the erection painfully brushing against his boxers, Terry nodded politely as Camille gave him a brief, humble introduction. Her feisty little attack when she first came into his office almost made him lose his cool demeanor and devour her right then and there. Terry knew that his Teams message would get a reaction out of her. And he needed to see it to understand where her head was at. Did she feel guilty? Was she worried that he’d tell her business? Would she try to avoid him? The way she pounced on him told Terry that the answer to all of his questions was yes.

He swelled with pride as she attempted to put him in his place. Her face was all serious and she puffed her chest out a bit. It was absolutely adorable and a turn-on at the same time. Terry was glad to see that she wasn’t a doormat and could handle some confrontation.

Though she wasn’t sharing anything he didn’t already know, Terry couldn’t help but ask more about her life—why she moved to Houston, how she met Aston, what she enjoyed doing in her free time. He wanted to savor every moment with her, to stretch the time they had together. After all, it was the first time he had seen her in person since the incident at Crimson. For the past month, he had to survive off her pictures and videos to satisfy his need to see her face. But they only fueled the sexual dreams that have been plaguing him since their last encounter. Dreams where he would have her pressed into his bed with her ankles by her ears. Or she would be bent over his kitchen counter with his fangs in her neck. Or his tongue would be slipping through her folds and sucking on her sensitive bud. Each dream would end the same. With her wetting up his dick, those pretty brown eyes clouding over with pure ecstasy.

His fist and imagination hadn’t been enough to satisfy him most nights. So he would invite women who were more than happy to please him over to his place a few times a week. But still, they couldn’t fulfill his deepest desires. He knew he wouldn’t have what he truly needed until he was between the legs of the gorgeous, intelligent, and sweet woman who sat before him.

As they spoke, he couldn’t help but observe the little details that made her so captivating. The way her eyes lit up when she mentioned her family, the subtle shift in her gaze when their eyes lingered too long, the warmth of her voice that seemed to wrap around him. He even noticed the delicate crinkle of her eyes when she laughed. Each small gesture, every word she spoke, was seared into his memory. As she shared a story about her favorite class from undergrad, her gaze drifted to the clock on the wall of his office. Realizing the time, she jumped to her feet. It had been twenty minutes.

“Oh, I completely forgot I had to go get lunch,” she said, shooting Terry an apologetic smile. “I hate to cut this short, but…” she trailed off. Terry quickly concealed his displeasure at her leaving. “Don’t worry about it, we’ll find another time.” She gave him a small wave as she opened the door. “Bye, Terry.” He waved back, groaning slightly as his dick jumped from his name slipping off her tongue.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. From his brief exchange with Aston, it was clear he’d have to tread carefully with Camille—at least for the next few months. Terry could tell that the motherfucker didn’t like him, and the feeling was mutual. But he would stay civil, for now. He couldn’t risk Aston getting pissed off and discouraging Camille from building a friendship with him.

His strategy would take longer than he liked, but Terry was willing to be patient. For Camille’s sake, everything had to feel effortless, natural, like it was always meant to be. He would play the long game, staying under the radar, making sure nothing disrupted her world. He would start subtle, appearing as nothing more than a friendly colleague. But slowly, he would weave himself into her life like a shadow she won’t be able to escape, but will eventually begin to crave. This next year, patience would be Terry’s virtue. Because there was no way he was returning to D.C. without Camille on his arm.

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

@nayaesworld @slvt4her @writingsbytee @notapradagurl7 @23jammy @kaylaahisthebestest- @theogbadbitch @wabi-sabi1090 @hotgyalaroad @nubiagurllll @lovedlover @dimepiece09 @lavaniiii @simplyzeeka @susanhill @next-bex-bet @sparklytemi @sonotlauryn @ranikyani @loveschrisbrown20 @daddyslittlevillain @blackchickinthedesert

i think i added everyone this time!

#aaron pierre #aaron pierre smut #rebel ridge #terry richmond #terry richmond smut #terry richmond fic #aaron pierre fanfic #aaron pierre x black!oc #vampire fiction #aaron pierre fic

79 notes · View notes

starlightsreigns · 2 days ago

Text

daddy lessons | a lemonade story

summary ⇢ mellie finds solace with the people who brought her life. six months feel like a lifetime without him, but her daddy warned her about men like him, so where does she go from here? word count ⇢ 2.5k tag ⇢ none. | five ; accountability “My daddy said shoot”

My daddy warned me about men like you

There’s an under-appreciated peace at your parent's house when you’re in pain. They don’t judge the hurt you're feeling, and they don’t ask questions when they can feel it in their bones that their daughter just needs their support. My mom can read my mind and it’s been like that since my younger years — she has that special ability to know exactly what the problem is without me uttering a word.

“Mellie, baby, come eat.” she stands beside the couch. “You can finish your show afterward.”

Her hands pull me off the couch, then lead me into the dining room where my dad is waiting. He sports a sad smile when we meet eyes, but doesn’t say anything. I know it’s because he doesn’t know what to say besides cracking a joke.

Breakfast is quiet. My fork scraps against the side of the plate. Usually, I’d scarf down whatever my mom makes, but eating is the last thing I want after the last couple of weeks… and months… and year that I’ve had. It leaves me nauseous and anxious.

My mom leaves the table after a while, taking the silence with her. My dad finally clears his throat but it’s impossible for me to look up at him. I know he’s going to try and give me advice, but as much as I love him, it’s not what I'm looking for.

Came into this world, daddy’s little girl

“I know this isn’t what you want right now, Mel, but listen.” My dad sets his utensils down. “You don’t have to tell us what’s going on with Roman, but you Mellie, you’re stronger than that.”

Defeat fills my entire body at his words, but he continues.

“I love you, Melody, you’re my only baby girl and I don’t like seeing you upset. It hurts my heart.”

Finally, the dam inside me breaks. The tears fall across my creek and my chest tightens in an attempt to keep my sobs at bay. My dad moves to the chair beside me and wraps his arm around me, cradling me against his chest when the sobs finally escape my body.

“It’s okay, let it out.” He hums. “You can’t let this break you, Mellie, this won’t break you.”

My breaths choke out, “It hurts, I trusted him and –”

He stops me, “I never wanted you to go through something like this.” His voice chokes out. “It took a long time for your mom to ever forgive me, but I never want you to feel like this defines you or that you have to stay in something like this.”

When I was in middle school, my parents went through the roughest part of their relationship. He cheated on her with a coworker, and my mom who’s usually the nicest person, went on a bender filled with rage. I felt the coldness in the house and how much hatred she carried for over two years. For the longest time, no one was sure they’d ever get back together. It took separation and a lot of therapy for it to even be a conversation for them.

“I know, papa.” I sigh.

We sit in silence for a little while longer. My eyes shift up, hearing the clicks of my mom’s heels. She offers us a small smile and beckons us to follow. In the living room, she had it set up for a movie day. The couch was filled with blankets, more food on the coffee table and the lights turned down.

But at this moment, I’m thankful that neither of my parents brought up the famous I told you so. They initially had concerns about me getting married. They love Roman, they really do, but his career made my mom question how the space would affect us. My dad said he saw a piece of him in Roman, and as bad as it is to say, I wish it wasn’t this part. The infidelity that broke my mom is now breaking me.

He said, “Baby girl he’s playing you”

“Mellie, you have a visitor.” My mom stands in the doorway.

A groan slips past my lips as I turn to look at her. She motions me out and then disappears before I can get out of bed. I shuffle out and down the stairs. At the last step, Roman stands there with my dad. It’s tense. My dad is staring at Roman with his hands stuffed into his pockets. The look on his face forces Roman to stare down at the ground.

“Dad,” My hand lays gently on his arm, kindly nudging him away but he only takes a step.

“You can talk to her,” He grits.

My heart pounds through my chest. I turn to my mom who is standing in the living room awkwardly. How can I plead for them to leave us alone? This is already too much and I can’t handle a conversation with him when they’re standing beside us. My mom finally looks at me and sees the look in my eyes and nods.

“Hun, c’mon, let’s leave them.” She walks over and grabs his arm.

“I don’t trust him, baby, I can’t let him keep playing my daughter.”

A chill runs up my spine as my dad takes a step closer to Roman. It’s an involuntary movement for me to move up and block Roman from my dad. I’m not sure why I want to protect Roman from the ass-whooping my dad would so graciously give him, but there’s a piece of me that doesn’t want to see him bleeding on the floor. He’s still my husband.

“Dad, please, just let me talk to him.” I smile softly. “Twenty minutes and I’ll be back inside.”

For a moment, while his eyes are still locked on Roman, I’m sure my dad was ready to jump across me and tackle him to the ground. Thankfully, he nods and steps back into my mom.

Outside, I sit on the porch swing. Roman stands near the door and takes a deep breath. It makes me laugh softly.

“I’m happy that made you laugh,” Roman hums with a small smile. “I thought he was gonna shoot me.”

“He has his shotgun in there, it’s still possible.” I glance in his direction. “What are you doin’ here, Roman?”

Roman carefully sits beside me on the swing, “I know you don’t wanna see me, Mellie, but I can’t go every day without seeing you.” He glances at me. “I know you’re here and safe, but I just have to see it myself.”

The cool air makes me wrap my arms around my shoulder and then lean up. I keep my eyes on the driveway to try and come up with any words. My mind swirls with too many thoughts and too many different emotions. As I zone out, I feel Roman’s jacket on my shoulder. It doesn’t make me move but instead close my eyes.

“It doesn’t make this any easier, Roman, seeing you all the time doesn’t help me figure out where we’ll go from here.” I finally look at him. “I love you with all my heart and that’s the problem. I love you so much that I can’t step back and truly feel all the emotions.”

He nods, “What can I do? I can’t be away from you, Mellie, but I want to fix this.”

The heavenly smell radiating off of Roman’s jacket makes my head spin. This is the closest we’ve been in months and it makes me realize how much I’ve missed him. Two months can feel like a lifetime. I wrap his jacket around me tighter and sigh.

“There’s so much hate in my heart, still, I wish the love was enough but I can’t remember any of the good.”

Silence follows. Neither one of us knows how to continue.

A question hammers through my brain like a drum. It’s something that has been tucked away since coming to my parents' house. If me and my mom could forgive my dad for his mistakes in the past, why can’t I move past this with Roman? If I love Roman the way I know I do, why can’t I allow us to rehab it?

The sound of the front door opening pushes the thought away. My dad steps a foot out and looks in our direction. He motions me inside and it reminds me of when I was younger and guys would come around – they were never allowed in the house and we had twenty minutes on the porch before he’d eventually tell them to go the hell home. Something never changes with my dad.

So, because I know he’d pull me into the house, I stand and start towards the door.

“Mel, please come home.” Roman grabs my hand. “Please.”

Focusing on my dad for a second, but he surprisingly doesn’t give me a reaction. Instead, he looks away and peers at the yard. I’m left alone to make that decision.

“I can’t.” My voice shakes when I glance back at Roman. “I can’t do that.”

Tough girl is what I had to be

For four days I rotted in bed while wrapped in Roman’s jacket. Every time I see him there’s some sort of regression that happens. Yet, I’m not even sure I can call it regression. I want to forgive him, but my pride and the hurt make it impossible for me to ever let those words come out of my mouth.

The house is empty while my parents are at church this morning. The silence isn’t comforting. It takes me back to countless mornings, evenings, and nights I spent wondering where he was and if he was with her. It reminds me of the nights when he lay in bed and I sat on the floor in agony. The silence reminds me of the pain anger and sorrow that I can’t seem to shake anymore.

How can I ever go back to normal? The person I was a year ago was someone I can’t even remember now. Melody from a year ago was lively, she partied, hung out with her friends on a daily, and would jump at the thought of her husband coming home to see her. Now, she sits in a house an hour away from him.

My world stopped spinning a long time ago and I’m just now feeling the effects.

From my spot on the couch, I can see out the window and to the yard. The rain sprinkles softly and casts a beautiful glow on everything due to the sun that was also out – you can’t help but love Florida weather, it’s as bipolar as my emotions about Roman are right now.

A figure passes by the window and a knock rings through the house. There’s a part of me that so desperately wants to ignore it and sink further into the couch and my despair, but a voice forces me to go against that.

“Sis, come open the door, I know you in there.”

When I finally, through much internal monolouge, open the door, Jey gives me his award-winning smile. He doesn’t wait for me to say anything before he pulls me into his arms. A groan slips pass my lips at the sheer force behind the hug.

“You’re gonna crush me, Jey, lemme breathe.” I choke out.

He let’s go of me reluctantly, but keeps his hands on my shoulders, “I just wanted to check on you, baby, Trin’s worried about you.”

“I’m fine, brother, just trying to…” My voice trails off.

I’m not sure what the hell I’m trying to do anymore. I thought I’d figure everything out by now, it’s been six months, but I’m more confused now than I was on day one.

“What the fuck?” After plopping back down on the couch, I look up at Jey, “I don’t know what the hell I’m trying to do.”

Jey sits beside me and takes my hand into his, “You know we all here for you, Mel, and we always gone be on your side.” He rubs his fingers over the palm of my hand. “Tell me what you need and I’ll help you.”

My mind goes blank. I’m not sure what can be done at this point to make anything easier for me. But, I know Jey won’t leave this house until he gets an answer, that’s just the type of person he is. For as long as we’ve known each other, Jey is very confrontatioanal and he can’t help it. I lean against his shoulder and stare at the wall.

“You believe me, right, Mellie, Imma always be here for you?” Jey leans down to find me eyes. “Cause I don’t think you believin’ me.”

“I believe you, swear.” I whisper into his shoulder. “I’m just so lost and I feel like my life is falling apart.”

For a moment, he lets us sit silently. The way his focus stays on rubbing my hand makes me take a deep breath.

“Did she tell you?” My voice fights against me. I’m not sure he heard what I ask, but when he clears his throught I shut my eyes. “I don’t want Roman to know.”

“I won’t tell him, Mel, okay?” Jey wraps his arm around me and pulls me closer. “Let’s just sit here.”

He taught me to be strong

How much longer can I stay here?

How much longer can I be angry?

How much longer can I pretend I’ll be okay?

There needs to be a resolve and I can’t picture my life without Roman. I can live without him. I can survive without him, but I don’t want this to be the end of everything we’ve worked for all these years. Yet, maybe something just need to end.

“Melody, come here.” My mom beckons me from the kitchen.

It was nearly time for dinner and she’s standing near the stove. I leaning against the sink with a roll of the eye. My irritation isn’t with her, she knows that, but I’m not sure how to get rid of this feeling.

“This feeling you have, the one you don’t want to share with any of us, I understand it and I resonate with it.” She glances at me. “It took me so long to forgive your father and there was a point where I thought if I forgive him I’d lose a piece of myself, but whatever you decide won’t break you and it won’t make you any less of a woman.”

My eyes focus on the ground. I’m not sure what she wants me to say but she continues.

“What he did isn’t right and there’s no way to get rid of that hurt, baby, but if you love him and you want to make it work you both have to take that first step and talk through this.” She finally turns and looks at me. “If you don’t want to stay, you don’t have to, but you both still need to talk.”

We need to talk.

I stare at my mom for a moment then nod.

We have to talk.

… but I’m not ready.

“Your mother is a woman and women like her cannot be contained. Mother dearest, let me inherit the earth. Teach me how to make him beg. Let me make up for the years he made you wait. Did he bend your reflection? Did he make you forget your own name? Did he convince you he was a god? Did you get on your knees daily? Do his eyes close like doors? Are you a slave to the back of his head?”

no words, hope you’ve enjoyed x

#wwe #wwe raw #wwe fanfiction #wwe smackdown #wwe fic #wwe imagine #the bloodline #roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns angst #roman reigns x y/n #romanreignsoneshot #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns smut #roman reigns fic #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns x you #roman reigns x original character

59 notes · View notes

arthemis005 · 2 days ago

Text

Wrong Person

The bar was crowded, the vibrant music filling the air, and the lights flickered in colorful tones. You looked around, trying to distract yourself. After a tough week at university, all you wanted was to relax and enjoy the night with your best friend, Mina.

However, your plans quickly changed when Mina became enchanted by a guy—tall, handsome, and clearly interested in her.

“Go talk to him!” you encouraged her. It was obvious she wanted to.

“We came here to unwind. I’m not going to leave you alone,” she hesitated.

“It’s okay, don’t worry. We came here to have fun, so go get him, girl,” you smiled, giving her a little push.

She smiled back before making her way toward him.

Not long after, they disappeared into a more private area, out of your sight. Now alone, you tried not to let it bother you. It was true that you had told Mina you didn’t mind, but in reality, the last thing you wanted was to be alone. You attempted to distract yourself—scrolling through your phone, observing the people around you—and, since you were at a bar, you figured you might as well get a drink.

The first one went down easily. The second did too. Before you knew it, the third was on its way. The bitter taste of alcohol barely registered as you focused on feeling less out of place.

However, as the alcohol took effect, a wave of dizziness hit you. The voices around you blurred together, the music pounded in your head, and suddenly, everything felt distant. You tried texting Mina, letting her know you wanted to leave since she was your ride, but after waiting a few minutes with no response, you figured she wouldn’t see your message anytime soon.

The discomfort grew, and you suddenly realized how vulnerable you were. Not knowing what else to do, you decided the right thing was to text your brother so he could come pick you up.

Fumbling with your phone, you scrolled through your contacts. After some difficulty, you finally tapped on his name and typed a message.

"Hey, Eiji. I’m at the bar, and I’m not feeling great. I think I drank too much… Can you come pick me up?"

His response came almost immediately.

"Coming."

You noticed his reply was unusually short. He was usually much more affectionate over text, but maybe he was just annoyed that he had to come pick up his little sister at 2 a.m.

Even so, you sighed in relief. You really didn’t want to be there anymore.

A few minutes later, you spotted a familiar blond-haired boy at the bar’s entrance. His eyes scanned the room, searching, until they locked onto yours. You tried to smile, but with the alcohol clouding your system and your mind in a haze, you figured you probably weren’t doing a great job of it.

He walked over quickly, his expression calm—no sign of judgment.

“Hey, let’s get out of here,” Katsuki said, placing his hands gently on your shoulders.

He started leading you outside, but as soon as you stepped out of the bar, you pulled away, stopping in your tracks and looking at him, annoyed.

“Where do you think you’re taking me? You can’t just drag me anywhere just because you’re Eijiro’s best friend.”

He sighed, turning back to face you.

“You texted me to come pick you up, dumbass.”

You stared at him, confused.

“What? No, I didn’t. I texted my brother.”

Too impatient to deal with you in your drunken state, he pulled out his phone from his pocket and held it up, showing you the message history. And there it was—the same message you thought you had sent to your older brother had actually been sent to his best friend. Your cheeks flushed as you realized your mistake.

“Can we go now?” he asked, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You simply nodded.

He turned his back to you and walked toward his car. Now that you were calmer, you took a proper look at him. He was dressed in comfortable clothes, his shirt slightly crooked—almost as if he had rushed out of the house without even bothering to fix it.

Was he really that worried about you?

The thought lingered in your hazy mind as you followed him to the car. Katsuki wasn’t the type to drop everything for just anyone. He was blunt, impatient, and rarely went out of his way unless it was for someone he truly cared about.

Had he really rushed out just because of your message?

Your gaze drifted back to his slightly disheveled appearance—the messy hair, the crooked shirt, the way his jaw was set, like he was annoyed but still here. Still making sure you were okay.

Maybe, just maybe, he cared more than he let on.

Snapping you out of your thoughts, Bakugou opened the passenger door and waited for you to get in. Obediently, you did as he wanted and sat down. You watched as he walked around the car and got in himself.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just a little dizzy.”

He nodded. “If you need to throw up or something, tell me. I don’t want you messing up my car.”

You smiled at his words. It was no surprise to anyone that his car was his most prized possession. But now that you were finally inside it, you understood why. The car was immaculate. Not a single speck of dust, the leather seats looked brand new, and the faint scent of something fresh—maybe citrus or mint—lingered in the air. It was the kind of car you’d expect from someone as meticulous as Bakugou.

You let your fingers glide over the armrest absentmindedly, still feeling the slight buzz from the alcohol in your system. “I get it now,” you murmured.

Bakugou glanced at you briefly before focusing back on the road. “Get what?”

“Why you’re so obsessed with this car. It’s… nice,” you admitted.

He scoffed, but you could see the corner of his lips twitching upward, as if he were suppressing a smirk. “Damn right it is.”

A comfortable silence settled between you as he drove, the soft hum of the engine filling the space. The city lights blurred past the window, and despite the night not going as planned, a strange warmth spread through your chest.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the fact that, even though you had texted the wrong person, Bakugou still came for you.

Not long after, he finally reached your place. Parking the car, he stepped out and walked over to help you.

“Here we go,” he muttered as he steadied you, guiding you up the stairs to the apartment you shared with your brother.

Fumbling with your keys, you unlocked the door and stumbled inside, leaving it open so Bakugou could follow.

“Isn’t Eijiro home?” he asked, glancing around.

You looked around as well, but there was no sign of your brother.

“Oh, that’s right. He’s spending the night at a classmate’s place to finish a project,” you said, suddenly remembering.

“I see,” he muttered.

“Katsuki, can you help me get to my room?” you asked, pointing in its direction.

He nodded and led you there, steadying you when you stumbled slightly. Once inside, you grabbed your pajamas and made your way to the bathroom.

Bakugou sat on the edge of your bed, waiting patiently for you to return. Normally, he would have just left. But for some reason, he was still here.

And strangely, that was comforting.

As the warm water ran over your face, you took a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering dizziness in your head. Slowly, you changed into your pajamas, exhaustion settling deep into your body. The night had been overwhelming, but knowing that Bakugou was still there, waiting, made it feel a little less lonely.

When you stepped back into your room, he was still sitting on the edge of your bed, scrolling through his phone. At the sound of the door opening, he looked up, his sharp eyes scanning you quickly before nodding in approval.

“Feel better?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, much better.”

He stood up, stretching slightly. “Alright, then. I should probably—”

“Stay,” you interrupted before you could stop yourself.

He froze, raising an eyebrow at you.

You fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. “I mean… just for a bit. You don’t have to, but—”

“Tch.” He rolled his eyes, but instead of leaving, he sat back down. “Fine. Just until you fall asleep.”

A small smile tugged at your lips as you climbed into bed, pulling the covers over you. Bakugou leaned back against the headboard, arms crossed, looking like he wasn’t planning to move anytime soon.

The room was quiet except for the occasional sounds of the city outside. The only light came from the moon, casting a soft glow over Bakugou’s face. He looked ethereal—almost unreal—and something shifted inside you.

Sensing your gaze on him, he turned to you. “You know, to sleep, you actually need to close your eyes, idiot,” he muttered.

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or something else, but you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

“Thank you for coming to help me,” you whispered, shifting a little closer to him, seeking warmth.

“Whatever. You’re my best friend’s little sister—I couldn’t just leave you there, dumbass.”

You smiled and, before you could think twice, moved even closer.

“What are you—” Before he could finish his sentence, you kissed him.

It was soft, hesitant. But before you could fully savor it, he pulled away. You looked at him, confused.

“Look… you’re drunk. I don’t want you doing something you’ll regret tomorrow,” he said, looking away—but you caught the redness creeping onto the tips of his ears.

You smiled, nodding in understanding before curling up under the blankets. Your eyelids grew heavy, the exhaustion and alcohol finally catching up to you.

Just as you drifted off, you felt the mattress shift slightly, a warmth settling beside you.

Maybe, just maybe, you hadn’t texted the wrong person after all.

#mha #mha x reader #mha bakugou #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou fluff #fanfic #bakugou fanfiction

84 notes · View notes

onceinamillionposter · 2 days ago

Text

Yandere!L&D band headcannons (Part 2)

Lead Vocalist : Rafayel

Drums : Sylus

Guitarist : Zayne

Guitarist : Xavier

Lead Rapper : Caleb

Tags : Yandere , Peeking in on someone naked , Stalker -ish behaviour, kidnapping etc

- You’d slowly descended into a depressing spiral. Leaks of you helping their tailors with their measurements got leaked of which you wanted to sue, but to avoid more backlash you let it happen before people call you cruel. None of your friends wished to speak with you, your parents avoided you as a topic and you were just so done with it. A bunch of take out littered around your room, and you a mess. You couldn’t bring yourself to go outside so you stayed inside more, barely leaving your room even when the boys would spam call you.

- It wasn’t until there was a knock and a slow sound of unlocking that you saw them again.They entered your tiny apartment (although they had no access) and found you laying in bed sheets covered and sick looking.

- Caleb and Rafayel came first, slightly berating you on why you would just disappear of the map for a bunch of days and begging you to come back, saying you wouldn’t my have to worry and you had them. Eventually they gave up and instead tried to force some cheer back in your face, although happy you would only have them instead of those ungrateful people in society. Caleb would try and play small pranks on you, each making you frown more than the last. Rafayel would show you some paintings he got up to with little to no reaction from you (he didn’t care to stop talking although it broke his heart you were hurting this much)

- Xavier sits in the room with you while combing through your hair, bringing you snacks which he realises you haven’t even touched on his next visit. He ends up laying in your bed with you to keep you comfortable and touch you but that’s different.

- Sylus and Zayne try and talk to you , Sylus tried to make you laugh while telling you some updates (not about the Press but other things) like their singles hitting number 1 on the record charts, and the collabs. Zayne gets you to eat, pleading with you as much as he possibly can without feeling shame. Eventually he made you eat porridge , although you felt sick all around.

- It started small, and understandable. Hours of doom scrolling had your phone taken away by Caleb who half jokingly told you that the rest of the world is none of your business, you tried to convince him to let you have your phone to at least talk to your friends in which he pointed out the fact they barley check up on you, with no reason to have it you let him take it away.

- Xavier practically lived on your couch now and whenever you even thought of attempting to work on your reputation why would force you away from the computer, instead making you watch shows with him ,”how we used to” he would say. It became normal to sit with him, watching it all. Hating it all.

- Rafayel would make sure you shower and maintaining some hygiene, although you noticed some peeping eyes from the door. You could never tell who is who though, you just knew someone was staring at you from outside, making a shiver run down your spine.

- Sylus would suggest you live with them permanently, with a very long break from work which you adamantly deny. Seeing as you harbour some anger to them and wouldn’t want to completely blame them for something that was PRS fault.

- Meanwhile while you think this, Sylus is making a discreet purchase of a decently large home in a secluded area somewhere, hiring some non talking staff to secure their little secret.

- Zayne wedges his way in, naturally of course he is now your doctor, nurse and personal physician. He prescribes you things which make you better but some make you, sleepy. You don’t know why but you feel so drowsy that when you wake up, you’re in a whole different area.

- You are now in this new place, a beautiful room but devoid of any life. You are wearing a sundress- different to the pyjamas you once wore before covered in tears (a nice change but the idea of being changed unconscious makes you feel odd)

- You try and find an escape to find the others downstairs around the TV watching as a tv show reviews the new album they released being reacted to.

- “Oh your up? Took you long enough.” Caleb dragged you over to the TV to see the album ‘Runaway’ ,“Honestly they’re going crazy for it!” He smirked as he patted your head. When you asked where you are he smiled and said home. You were home now, your days consisted of you trying to run away but one of them catching you, Rafayel rolling his eyes and dragging you home, Xavier always appearing beside you asking if hide and seek was fun, Sylus giving you his black card and telling you to order things for yourself instead of sitting and crying about the fact the outside is dangerous. Zayne manipulating you to come back inside, stating your too unstable to handle outside, what would the PR think seeing you like that? And Caleb, Caleb practically chases after you as if it’s a game of tag. You never get too far without him taking you home asking if you finally feel better and instead have fun with him playing some games again.

- You’re stuck there now, with them and you look on the TV as your missing person poster pops up, and the fact they refuse to make a statement. It is sick really, but hey at least you won’t be bothered anymore.

a/n : Ummm part two! I dunno if I wanna make this a fully fledged project thing I don’t really know where to go with this! Sorry if it’s disappointing to you with how this went but I think this is pretty decent! I’ll probs make other, better pieces but for now have this one! How would we feel about a BTS , Meghan the stallion type vibe for the next?.. Anyway tell me what you think! So until then! Byeeeee <3

Tags : @miffysoo , @zarakem , @kithyyy

69 notes · View notes

killfortune · 24 hours ago

Text

𝑩𝒆 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒆 🌸

Enhypen X Reader

Short and sweet. OT7 (ofc) asking you to be their Valentine.

Heeseung

Heeseung wants to be confident about it, but when the time comes, he gets a little shy. He spends days thinking about the perfect way to ask you, even considering writing a song, but ultimately, he keeps it classic. On Valentine’s Day, he casually hands you a small box with a silver bracelet inside. “It reminded me of you,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. Before you can react, he smirks and adds, “Oh, and by the way… be my Valentine?” He plays it cool, but his ears are bright red.

Jay

Jay believes in doing things properly. He shows up at your place with a bouquet of roses and a box of handmade chocolates (yes, he made them himself). “I wasn’t sure what kind of chocolate you like, so I tried a few different ones,” he says, watching for your reaction. Once he’s sure you like them, he clears his throat and formally asks, “So… will you be my Valentine?” The way he says it, like he’s been waiting forever, makes your heart skip a beat.

Jake

Jake is excited but also a little nervous. He spends the whole day hyping himself up and finally decides to make it fun. He gets a heart-shaped balloon, ties it to a small stuffed puppy (because, of course, it reminds him of Layla), and writes a note: "You make my heart race. Be my Valentine?" He finds you and hands it over with the biggest, brightest smile. “I figured I’d go all out,” he laughs. “Did it work?”

Sunghoon

Sunghoon acts nonchalant, but in reality, he spent forever figuring out what to do. In the end, he settles on a subtle but effective approach. He casually hands you a cup of coffee with "Be my Valentine?" written on the sleeve. When you look up at him in surprise, he shrugs. “It’s not a big deal or anything,” he says, but he refuses to meet your eyes. If you tease him about blushing, he’ll deny it, but his ears say otherwise.

Sunoo

Sunoo goes all out because why not? He sets up a mini scavenger hunt for you with little notes leading to a final gift—a heart-shaped cake he made himself. When you reach the last clue, he’s standing there with a bright grin and a sign that says "Say yes?" in pink sparkly letters. “I had to make it cute,” he says, giggling. “So… do I get to be your Valentine?” He acts playful, but he’s holding his breath, waiting for your answer.

Jungwon

Jungwon doesn’t want to make things too obvious, but he also wants it to be meaningful. He handwrites a note and carefully places it in a small envelope along with a keychain of something you love. When he finally gathers the courage to give it to you, he watches your expression nervously. “I, um… I wanted to do something simple,” he admits. “But… will you be my Valentine?” His eyes are full of hope, and you can tell how much thought he put into it.

Ni-Ki

Ni-Ki pretends it’s not a big deal but is secretly stressing over it. He ends up doing something bold—challenging you to a game. “If I win, you have to be my Valentine,” he declares confidently. But when he loses on purpose (very obviously), he groans and hands you a small, folded note anyway. "Even if I lost… would you still say yes?" He tries to play it cool, but when you smile at him, he can't hide the excitement on his face.

Happy Valentine's Day 🌸

Thought I'd try writing about them because I am an engene, but not involved with the community at all 💀. So this is my attempt to become involved.

25 notes · View notes

solarismoons · 2 days ago

Text

SPOILERS FOR S2 EP5 OF SCHOOL SPIRITS

This one’s gonna be a LONG one… Sorry in advance.

I feel SO bad for Maddie. “My mom is being a good mother just not to me.” UGH! That made me so so sad.

The meeting with the living kids and the ghosts was SO funny. Simon and Wally FINALLY interacted. It was also so fucking awkward for the living kids. Like imagine sitting there staring at a bunch of empty chairs with pictures of dead people…

ALSO Wallys, “You’ve been here like four years babe, try 40.” MADE ME SCREAM. BABE?????? I CAN’T.

I love when Wally acts like a dumbass. “Where can we find a Bazooka?” WHAT?? Also there is SOMETHING going on with Xavier. Wally literally pointed out ‘he’s looking right at me.’ I don’t think he can see them, but he can definitely sense something is there. I’m calling it right now.

Um… Wally misses body shots??? Hey… so when did Wally become a FREAK?

Yuri is FINALLY out of the pottery room??? I’m really growing to like him.

That hellscape was fucking INSANE. I did NOT expect to see Janet literally burnt to a crisp. I genuinely feel so bad for her, but I can’t help but be pissed for what she’s doing to Maddie.

Yuri’s death sounds so sad 🙁. He had such a bad panic attack it triggered his asthma? Ugh, my baby. I need him and Charley to hook up NOW.

I feel so bad for Nicole. I wasn’t a huge fan of her last season, but everyone’s always so mean to her. Not a single person even attempted to hear her out.

What the hell happened with Mr. Martin?? That man was ANGRY. I’m so confused! Janet’s old friend, Eugene, basically said the fire was purposeful. What even happened to make Mr. Martin snap like that, and why did he purposely start a fire??

That dinner was SO uncomfortable. I don’t even know what to say other than that.

The pool scene made me so sad. “Maybe Janet can do more with my life than I ever could.” I had a suspicion Maddie might have this thought eventually. Peyton’s acting was SO good.

“I wish you would be stuck with me here forever. But, you deserve to live.” WALLY STOP BREAKING MY HEART.

WALLY AND MADDIE MAKING OUT IN THE POOL??? HELLO??? The tension is INSANE. The way she touched his lips with her thumb??? They are FEEDING us this season.

NICOLE COMING IN CLUTCH WITH THE EUGENE LINE??? Janet was HORRIFIED. Also, no way Janet boiled Simon’s phone… she’s completely freaking me out. Her holding the knife while telling Simon to leave??? If she hurts anyone i’m gonna sob.

Milo with his hair down and wet made me feral. I love him either way, but the hair down just gets me. I need Wally to STOP gelling it up. The amount of fluff we got with Mally is literally is insane.

XAVIER SAW MADDIES DEAD DAD??? Okay, this is an INSANE episode. Nicole finding out that she’s texting Xavier this early was NOT what I thought would happen.

This is one of the first times i’ve cried during this show. That song Rhonda’s friend made was so heartbreaking. I love Rhonda so much.

“Why can’t it be?” YURI STOP. I love Charley so much. He really deserves someone.

RED ALERT. EVERYONE WAS RIGHT ABOUT MR. ANDERSON. Mr. Martin giving Janet Fahrenheit 451 was so sick… I hate him more and more every episode.

AND HE KIDNAPPED HER??? I CANNOT wait an entire week for this

#school spirits #milo manheim #school spirits season 2 #wally clark #maddie nears #peyton list #split river high #spoilers #xavier baxter #simon elroy #hyperfixation #claire zimmer #charley school spirits #rhonda school spirits

33 notes · View notes

shewrites02 · 3 days ago

Text

Pathetic | Toji Fushiguro x Reader |

A/N: This is a stand alone fic but in my mind it coincides with my previous fic Deserve. It is the same reader, though in my timeline this fic occurred first. I don't knowww if I'm quite feeling making a whole series but open to suggestions.

Join my Taglist <3

Word count: 780

Leave a comment if you enjoy :) feel free to reblog!

If there was any doubt, you are positively sure now. You hate yourself. That is the only explanation for why you would possibly be cuddled underneath Toji at 3am. The only explanation-

You’re an idiot. And you hate yourself. You’re an idiot who hates yourself. Who must enjoy the pain this man inevitably inflicts on you.

You watch as he sleeps peacefully, ignorant to the woes that plague your heart. This isn’t the closure you were looking for when you came here. One last time. That was all it was supposed to be. A goodbye. Not a wake for the future the two of you could’ve had.

As if sensing your unease in his sleep, Toji tightens the hold he has on you, bending down to lazily place a kiss on your forehead before falling back asleep. The gesture is a loaded gun, shooting the final bullet of reason in you.

This man would never really love you.

Trying to stifle your tears makes your chest burn as if you're choking. You couldn’t stay here. Can’t wake up the next morning and pretend he isn’t the same man from a month ago.

The man who made you beg for his attention. The man who couldn’t be bothered with your presence before the sun came up. He is still the same man using you for access to your body.

You slink from the slip of the hunters grasp,with the reassurance you were going to the restroom. In one swoop you snatch your clothes and hurry off. The embarrassed scurry you do to get your clothes on is motivation enough to get out the door as quickly as possible.

You don’t bother to wake Toji, in fear he may question your decision to leave in the middle of the night. The last thing you needed was an interrogation. At least that’s what you hoped- Fushiguro is already three steps behind you struggling to put a t- shirt on as he follows you out to the complex’s garage.

“Y/n.” He calls out, but you do not stop. He calls your name again, this time clamping his hand around your wrist impeding your escape. “Why are you leaving? You know you don’t have to leave.”

“Yeah, I should Toji. I'm just going to go.” It is easy to feign certainess when your back is to the man. When he can’t see the tears threatening to stream down your cheeks or the disappointment in your eyes.

“C’mon doll, its cold out here-” He tugs on your arms, urging you to follow. “let's talk in the morning.”

When you don’t move his brows furrow in a scrunch and he's on your side in minutes, peering over your shoulder to get a glimpse of your face.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” He demands.

You can’t help the cackle that leaves your mouth. “What's wrong?” There isn’t a single thing “right” about the relationship- or lack thereof- the two of you have.

He ignores you for weeks at a time, busy on these supposed work trips while you wait around like a lost puppy until he comes back to stick his dick in you.

Pocket pussy.

That was all you were to him. All you are ever going to be.

Stupid. Stupid. Dumb. stupid. Bitch. You shuffle your feet to finally walk away, embarrassment beginning to settle its way on your cheeks. You make a half-hearted attempt to tug your arm free in hopes Toji will be so willing. He is not.

“This was a bad idea.” You reiterate

Tears are falling the moment the words leave your mouth.You fight hard not to let your voice tremble, to show all the pain bubbling in your chest. This absolute burning, suffocating, aching pain. Fueled by the scorched memories stifling your thoughts.

“Y/n please-.” He utters your name as though it’s his mantra. Like he actually cares for you. Like this isn’t more performative bullshit to have you second guessing yourself in bed tonight.

No. He wouldn’t get you this time.

This time you won’t be so naive. Won’t trust the distress in the twitch of his brow, or how desperate his eyes look. Ignore how broken his voice sounds.

None of it mattered. You are done playing the fool.

“You treat me bad Toji! You make me beg for your attention, for a version of you, hell- I don’t even think exists anymore but still-” Your voice catches in your throat. As though creating an interruption to allow your brain opportunity to catch up to your tongue. But It is too late-

“Still I’m standing here.. Not feeling good enough for you. How pathetic am I?”

If you enjoy my content or if you have $5 to spare , please consider donating it to Besan . she is a mother trying so desperately to get her family out of Gaza. She is still so far away from her go fund me goal!

Operation Olive Branch Spreadsheet

I know everyone may not have the means to donate, but if by some chance you have an extra $5 to spare please consider donating it to the families trying to rebuild their lives in the Gaza strip.

#toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x you #fushiguro toji #toji zenin #jjk toji #fushiguro toji x reader #jjk fushiguro #toji x y/n #toji x self insert #jujutsu toji #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk fanfic #jjk angst #angst #angst toji fushiguro

30 notes · View notes

noona-clock · 3 days ago

Text

Library Cupid 📚💘 - Part 4, Final Chapter

Genre: College!AU, Library!AU, Fluff

Pairing: Kang Ha Neul x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: None

Part 1, 2, 3, 4 | Words: 3,494

At first, Ha Neul had been excited when he'd arrived at the front desk and seen a copy of Among Others lying there. That was the book you were reading!

But then he'd checked the book in and saw that it was the exact book you were reading -- or had been reading.

You'd returned it. Without seeing or speaking to him.

And when he lifted up the front cover, there was no familiar pink sticky note, no message in your familiar handwriting.

This had to mean you'd hated the book, right? He had to admit, he was surprised by that.

But still. It was odd that you hadn't even waited for him or sought him out to say 'hello' and maybe (hopefully) ask for another recommendation.

It was so odd, in fact, that the rest of his day felt off-kilter.

He'd been so looking forward to seeing you again, not to mention hearing your thoughts on the book and if you agreed that the main character reminded you of yourself.

If you had agreed, or if you'd at least liked the book, then he would've taken that as a sign to try and get closer to you. He wanted to be your friend, and it felt like the natural time to attempt to deepen your relationship.

Okay, if he was being completely honest, he wanted to be more than your friend. But, if reading had taught him anything, it was that the friends-to-lovers trope was always the most realistic!

But now that you'd left your book without staying for your usual conversation, he would have to scrap his original plan and think of what else he could do to show his interest (besides the sticky notes he left in your books, that is).

For the rest of the evening, Ha Neul watched the door of the library, hoping you would walk in and apologize for missing him earlier -- not that you needed to apologize for anything, but you catch my drift.

You didn't, though. No matter how hard he visualized you walking through the door, you didn't.

So, when he went home for the night, he started to come up with a few alternate plans depending on what happened the next day.

Unfortunately, what happened the next day was... nothing.

You didn't return to the library the next day or the day after that. Ha Neul assured himself that you were most likely busy with your classes! It was actually completely normal for someone to not visit the library two days in a row.

But then two days became three... four... five... a week...

After two weeks of nothing -- two full weeks without seeing you -- Ha Neul was beginning to lose hope. Maybe he should've lost hope already?

As he clocked in for his shift, he made the decision to try one last time. He would ask the head Librarian to keep an eye out for you (he would think of a purely professional reason, of course), and if you didn't come in today... then he would give up. He would try to move on and hope that one day he would find someone else who made him feel the way you had.

A dejected sigh escaped his lips as he slipped through the door of the employee break room, and he sluggishly reached out to start pushing a book cart of returns that needed shelving.

Of course, the first section of books on the top shelf of the cart were mysteries.

He really wasn't looking forward to going into that section, especially since a new shipment of novels had arrived just a few days ago.

All those new books, and you didn't even know!

Ha Neul had just begun to wonder what you were reading now if you weren't reading any of the new mystery novels when he turned down the first of the mystery aisles and almost ran into --

You!

He almost gasped with delight at the sight of you, but he managed to rein it in just in time.

"Y/N," he said instead, beaming over at you. "You're here!"

You had jumped a little when he'd appeared in the aisle, but you were now smiling back at him -- though your smile was a bit strained and awkward.

"Hi," you replied, your voice small and quiet.

"I haven't seen you in a while," Ha Neul continued, deciding to ignore the anxious atmosphere. "I hope everything's okay?"

"Yes, it's fine," you replied, clutching the book you'd been holding to your chest.

"I really wanted to know what you thought about Among Others, but -- maybe it's been too long now."

"It was great. I really liked it."

...That was it?

Ha Neul had become accustomed to your glowing reviews and how you went into detail about what exactly made the book so good in your eyes.

So, for you to just say 'It was great. I really liked it'?

He had to admit, he was disappointed.

For two weeks now, he'd been imagining your reunion when you finally met up in the library again; everything about your interactions had led him to believe that you'd be as happy to see him as he was to see you. That you'd ramble on about the books you'd been reading or how your classes had been keeping you busy or -- or something!

"...Are you sure everything's okay?" he asked, unable to help himself from prying. "You seem --"

"How are you?" you interrupted.

"I -- I'm all right," Ha Neul answered, his disappointment slowly morphing into confusion. Why were you acting so strangely? "I'm just really glad to see you."

Your expression turned slightly more anxious at those words, but Ha Neul couldn't decide if it was a bad anxious or a good anxious.

On the chance it was a good anxious, he added, "I... I missed seeing you every day. I missed talking to you."

You bit the inside of your cheek for a few seconds before replying, your voice almost too soft to hear when you said, "I missed talking to you, too, I just --"

But you cut yourself off and didn't finish the sentence.

"You just what?" Ha Neul asked gently.

There's no way he could go about his day not knowing what you'd been about to say!

"I... I just --" you stammered, your gaze flitting around and avoiding him almost entirely. "I heard... you..."

Ha Neul's heart began to pound inside his chest. What on earth could you be talking about? You heard him... you heard him what?!

"I heard you... Anyway, it doesn't matter," you finished with an incredibly awkward chuckle.

Instinctively, Ha Neul stepped closer to you and reached out, resting a hand on your arm. "No, please tell me," he urged. "It matters to me."

Because it did. If he was the reason you'd stopped visiting the library, he might never forgive himself.

Finally, your eyes met his, wide and glassy with anxiety.

"I heard you talking to someone," you whispered. "They confessed their feelings to you and asked you out, and you accepted."

At first, Ha Neul had no earthly idea what you were talking about. His forehead wrinkled in deep confusion, and he opened his mouth to tell you just that -- "I have no earthly idea what you're talking about."

But then it hit him.

And, now that he remembered, it sure enough had been the same day he'd arrived at the front desk to see your copy of Among Others returned.

"Oh!" he laughed softly, unable to stop himself from smiling. "No, no, they weren't confessing to me. It was a rehearsal!"

And now it was your turn to wear your confusion on your face.

"Let me explain," Ha Neul offered. "You know about the whole Library Cupid thing, right?"

You nodded wordlessly.

"Right. It started out as just book recommendations, but one day, a girl wanted me to fake recommend a book to someone else because she had a crush on her, and that just kind of snowballed into me doing actual matchmaking things here and there while also recommending books, so what you heard was someone wanting to practice confessing and asking out the actual person they have a crush on. Not me! I haven't been on any dates, especially none in the last two weeks, and the only person I would want to ask me out is --"

He only realized that his story had turned to rambling when it was just too late.

"--Y-you."

Your head jerked back, startled by what you'd just heard.

By the expression on Ha Neul's face, he was just as startled as you were.

But then his features relaxed, a soft grin tugged at his lips, and he let his hand fall from your arm.

"...Me?" you managed to ask, wanting to make sure he'd said what you thought he'd said.

"You," he confirmed with a nod. "I've liked you pretty much since I saw you walk through the doors that first evening when you came to ask for more mystery books."

On one hand, you were relieved because -- not only was Ha Neul not dating someone else, but you'd also been correct in assuming that his sticky notes had been getting progressively more than friendly!

On the other hand, you were... shocked. And a little terrified.

But you were sure you'd get over that pretty quickly.

You weren't over it yet, though, so you inhaled deeply, steeling yourself and forcing these words to come out of your mouth: "When I brought Among Others back, I wanted to tell you how much it meant to me for you to say that the main character reminds you of me because you know how much I love books, and no one has ever said anything like that to me before, and I've really never had a close relationship to someone -- my own age, that is. I was always close with the librarians, but they were more like surrogate parents. Or maybe aunts and uncles... Anyway. It meant a lot -- it means a lot. And... I think... I like you, too."

Ha Neul had listened to you with his lips pulled into an unwavering grin, and that grin had only widened when you'd confessed your own feelings for him.

He then reached out and gently took one of your hands off the book you were still clutching to your chest. You offered no resistance, of course, feeling your heart fluttering as he grasped your fingers in his.

"Then... would you like to have dinner with me? Tonight? Or tomorrow or the next day or whenever you're free? Or lunch? Or breakfast?" he asked, and you found it incredibly endearing that he hadn't stopped smiling even to ask you out on a date.

"Dinner tonight would be... lovely," you replied breathlessly.

"And... will you tell me all about what you've been reading lately?" he asked.

You were fairly sure that one question made you fall just a little bit in love with him.

About One Year Later

It was late in the evening on Friday, and as always, you arrived at the library just five minutes before closing time.

As soon as you walked in, you saw that the front desk was unmanned -- nothing particularly out of the ordinary, though. Many times, Ha Neul would still be busy shelving returns or taping up older books the librarian hadn't yet replaced with newer versions.

You would simply wait for him here, as you typically did when he wasn't quite ready to clock out and leave.

But once you got close enough to the front desk, you noticed a sticky note had been placed right in the middle. You didn't immediately think it was meant for you since sticky notes were an incredibly common office supply, especially on a university campus.

But.

Sticky notes held somewhat of a special place in your relationship with Ha Neul.

Even after the two of you started dating, you'd left sticky notes for each other in the library books you checked out and then returned.

As your relationship had progressed during the following months, you'd started leaving sticky notes in each other's school notebooks since the two of you regularly studied together.

And the first time Ha Neul had slept over at your apartment, he'd left a sticky note on your alarm clock -- so, you'd left one for him on his front door the next time you'd gone over to his place.

So, yes, seeing a sticky note left on the front desk of the library did pique your interest.

And, lo and behold, when you arrived at the desk and quickly scanned the small, square piece of paper, you instantly recognized your boyfriend's handwriting.

A grin tugged at your lips when you read Go to the shelf that houses the very first book I recommended to you ♡

Okay, then! And so you would.

You delicately peeled the note off the desk and headed over toward the fantasy section.

When you turned the corner and entered the aisle, you didn't see another sticky note right away. So, you skimmed the shelves until you saw Legends & Lattes and slid it out of its place.

Unsurprisingly, when you opened the front cover, another sticky note greeted you.

It read Cozy nights in with you are one of my favorite things -- just like this cozy story is one of your favorites

That was true. You'd re-read this book a couple of times already.

But what about your favorite mystery?

Oh, this was exciting! Ha Neul had clearly set up a scavenger hunt for you, and you could only speculate what the treasure would be at the end.

Now, onto your favorite mystery novel. The answer was as easy as the first had been because your favorite mystery novel had been -- and likely always would be -- one of the books based on your all-time favorite television show. The 14th in the series, to be exact. Your copy at home was particularly well-loved, and Ha Neul had always been able to tell when your stress level had reached a peak because you'd be reading this exact book.

To the mystery section!

As you made your way over to what would forever be your comfort zone -- the mystery section of a library -- you couldn't stop yourself from grinning like a total idiot. But you really didn't care. The library was just about closed at this point, so there would be no one around to witness your foolishness.

Plus! Your boyfriend had put together a literary scavenger hunt for you! How could you not smile?!

The next sticky note read I know you love a good mystery, but it's no mystery why I love you. I won't embarrass you by waxing poetic, so your next stop is your favorite classic romance

Within a minute, you were pulling Pride & Prejudice off the shelf and reading another sticky note.

No one can write a love story quite like Jane, and no one can make me smile quite like you. Your final stop is the place where your texts and phone calls make me smile like an idiot when I'm at work but not working

Of course, reading that made you smile like an idiot -- though you hadn't actually stopped smiling this whole time.

You knew he was leading you to the employee break room, the only place in the building he was able to check his phone. This was partly because he was kept busy enough actually doing his job, but also because it had the best cell service.

Over the past year or so, you'd only been in there a scant handful of times just after the library's closing time. It was pretty much your typical employee break room, so it was intriguing that this adorable scavenger hunt would end there.

But as soon as you opened the door, you were met with a sight you hadn't at all been expecting.

The typical employee break room was no longer a typical employee break room. The table where Ha Neul usually ate dinner had been pushed over to one wall, there were a few strings of soft fairy lights glittering on the wall, and a very large pile of extremely cozy-looking pillows and blankets sat in the corner by the only window in the room.

But, of course, most importantly, Ha Neul was standing there looking adorably anxious with the goofiest smile curving his lips.

"What is all this?" you asked softly as you walked in, letting the door close behind you.

Ha Neul let out a somewhat shaky sigh, holding an arm out to invite you over to him -- and to the cozy corner he'd created.

"I know you've been stressed with exams and graduation," he began.

Before he could continue, you added, "So have you."

"Yes," Ha Neul chuckled. "We both have. I figured we could use some rest and relaxation and quality time."

When you reached him, you didn't hesitate in stepping close and sliding your arms around his neck.

"And you're so right," you murmured before leaning in to press a kiss to his lips. Then when you pulled away, you shifted your gaze to the pillow and blankets and lights and asked, "Did you do all of this yourself?"

You were fully expecting him to say 'yes' because Ha Neul was that kind of boyfriend -- that kind of person. He was extremely thoughtful and hard-working, but really, you could write an entire essay on the qualities that made him the best person you'd ever known.

"Oh, no," he admitted with a soft laugh. "You know that couple -- the first one that ever got together because of my barely existent matchmaking skills?"

"Yes," you grinned.

"They came into the library last week -- they're still together, by the way -- so I asked if they would help me pull this off. I mean, just the cozy decorating and whatnot. I did the clues myself," he assured you, looking all too proud of himself.

As he should be!

"That was the cutest scavenger hunt ever," you told him with a wide grin. "Thank you so much, I loved it."

"Ah, but that was just the beginning," he said, raising his eyebrows. He then stepped back and offered you his hand to lead you to the pile of pillows. "I got permission to stay here as late as we want so we can watch as many episodes as your heart desires."

"Episodes?" you asked. "What do you --"

It was only then you noticed a small projector on top of one of the side tables, pointing toward the opposite wall of the pillow pile.

"I've got it connected to my phone," Ha Neul explained. "And I borrowed your login so we can stream your show. Do you want to start over at the beginning, or is there a specific episode you'd like to watch?"

He plopped down onto the cushions then, and you quickly followed so you could cuddle up to him and pepper kisses all over his face.

"I love you, you know that, right?" you said as he pulled up your most-used streaming service on his phone. "I'm always scared I never tell you enough, but I really, really, really do love you."

"Hey, don't be scared about that," he assured you as he put an arm around your shoulders, pulling you even closer into his side. "You do tell me enough, but you don't even have to tell me."

"What do you mean?" you mumbled, your face now pressed against his neck.

"You show me every single day," he answered. "And even when you don't say 'I love you,' you say other things that mean 'I love you.' I'm really good at picking up the subtle things, y'know?"

You simply hummed lazily, already feeling relaxed -- but being in Ha Neul's arms did that to you.

"I've worked in a library for years now," he continued. "I've learned how to read between the lines."

At that, you let out a huff of laughter. "One of the many reasons I love you is your sense of humor," you chuckled.

Ha Neul simply pressed a kiss on the bridge of your nose before handing you his phone, wordlessly allowing you full control over which episode to start with.

Jokes aside, though, you truly were grateful that Ha Neul had worked in the library because in all honesty? You may not have met him otherwise.

When you'd fallen in love with reading all those years ago, you would've been able to guess that it would eventually lead you to your future career -- I mean, hello? Look at the type of book that had started your obsession! Anyone could've guessed you'd end up in the forensic science field.

But you certainly wouldn't have been able to guess that it would lead you to find love, especially not with someone as kind, caring, smart, funny -- as perfect as Ha Neul.

The Library Cupid himself!

#kang ha neul #kang ha neul fanfic #kang ha neul fluff #kang ha neul au #kang ha neul x reader

23 notes · View notes

tanjamikaelson · 3 days ago

Text

BEST FRIEND'S BOTHER - CHAPTER 38

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 38: | HEARTBREAK'S ONE THING, MY EGO'S NOTHER |

You arrived at the Island Club for lunch with your parents, the weight of the recent days heavy on your mind. As you exchanged polite smiles and small talk, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. That’s when a group of girls from school caught your eye and waved you over.

“Hey, are you coming to Rafe’s party later?” one of the girls asked eagerly, her tone light, oblivious to the turmoil bubbling beneath your surface.

“I can’t. I’m grounded,” you replied, though there was a small part of you that wished you could go.

One girl leaned in with a mischievous grin, “Just sneak out. I’ll wait for you in the car.”

You hesitated for a moment, glancing back at

your parents who were chatting, unaware of the conversation. “Okay, I’ll try,” you said, almost impulsively.

•°•°•°•°•°•

Later that day, as you stood in front of the mirror, you carefully applied your makeup, the excitement building despite the guilt gnawing at you. You wanted to see Rafe, to explain yourself, to show him that you hadn’t meant to hurt him. Maybe if you showed up looking good, it would remind him of what you had, of the connection that was still there—if only buried under anger and mistakes. You picked out the outfit you knew he liked best, something cute but not overdone, and snuck out to meet the girls in the car.

When you arrived at the party, the house was packed. The music pulsed through the walls, and laughter mixed with the sounds of clinking glasses. You had a few drinks, and smoked a blunt to calm your nerves, trying to build up the courage to face him. You were mid-game of beer pong when you heard a familiar voice—a voice that made your stomach twist in knots. Rafe.

Looking toward the source of the sound, your heart dropped. Rafe was standing on the balcony, his arm casually draped around a girl you didn’t recognize. She was beautiful, with a calm, effortless air about her that made you feel a pang of jealousy deep in your chest.

“Who is she?” you muttered, unable to stop yourself from asking the question out loud.

One of the girls next to you shrugged, “I don’t know, but I saw her working at the Island Club.”

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from them. The sight of Rafe with her, laughing so easily, sent your mind into a spiral of questions. Why was he with her? She was a Pogue, wasn’t she? He hated Pogues. The thought of him with someone else, especially after everything between the two of you, made your blood boil.

“I’ll be right back,” you mumbled under your breath, your feet already carrying you toward the house before your mind could catch up.

As you stepped onto the balcony, the sight of Rafe laughing with her sent a fresh wave of anger coursing through you. His eyes locked onto yours, and his smile immediately fell, the carefree expression replaced by a hardened glare.

“What are you doing here?” he asked sharply, his tone dripping with annoyance.

You tried to stay calm, despite the hurt gnawing at you. “Some people invited me,” you replied, attempting to sound casual.

“Well, I don’t remember I invited you,” Rafe shot back, the bitterness in his voice cutting deep.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying not to let his words sting. “Can we talk?”

“I’m busy,” Rafe replied coldly, tightening his grip around Sofia, as if to emphasize what, or who, he was busy with.

That was the last straw. Something inside you snapped, and before you could stop yourself, the jealousy and frustration boiled over. “You’re a fucking jerk,” you spat, and without thinking, you threw your beer cup at him, the liquid splashing onto both Rafe and Sofia.

“Hey! What the hell?” Rafe shouted, wiping the beer from his face. “You don’t get to act this way!”

“I fucking hate you, Rafe!” you yelled back, your voice shaking with a mixture of rage and hurt. “After everything you’ve done, you don’t get to be mad at me because I let Kie push you off the boat!”

Rafe’s eyes flared with anger as he stepped closer, his voice low and dangerous. “Shut up and leave.”

“What? You don’t want your new girlfriend to learn who you really are?” you taunted, your jealousy spilling out in bitter words.

Rafe’s patience snapped. He grabbed your arm, dragging you away from the balcony and through the door, his grip tight but controlled. “When I said you’d regret it, I meant it. Leave, and don’t talk to me again.”

You wrenched your arm from his grip, your eyes blazing with defiance. “You’ll be the one to come crawling back to me. You always do!”

Rafe’s expression hardened, his jaw clenched as he shook his head. He turned his back on you, walking away and leaving you standing there, your heart racing with a mixture of anger and pain.

Your friend found you as you stood there, trying to steady your breathing. “You okay?” she asked, concern in her voice.

You grabbed the drink from her hand and downed it in one go, the alcohol burning as it went down. “I’m leaving,” you announced, your voice sharp and resolute as you turned and stormed out of the party, leaving behind the chaotic whirlwind of emotions that Rafe Cameron always seemed to stir in you.

You didn’t want to go home—not yet, not after everything that had just happened at Rafe's party. The thought of sitting alone in your room, consumed by your emotions, made you feel restless. Instead, you headed toward the cut, hoping to find someone—maybe Sarah, Kie, or Cleo—anyone to distract you from the whirlwind of feelings swirling inside.

As you approached John B’s house, you saw Sarah sitting alone on the porch, her expression distant, as though she had just as much weighing on her as you did. You felt a sense of relief at seeing her there.

“Sarah,” you called softly, drawing her attention.

She looked up and smiled, though there was something tired in her eyes. “Hey, Y/N. What are you doing here? I thought you were grounded.”

“I am,” you admitted as you sat down next to her, “But I sneaked out to go to Rafe’s party.”

“Oh,” Sarah raised her eyebrows, her interest piqued. “And how did that go?”

You let out a frustrated sigh. “No good… He was with some girl. A pogue.”

Sarah’s surprise was evident. “My brother with a pogue? Seriously?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, the memory of seeing them together still fresh and painful. “I wanted to explain everything, make him understand that I didn’t mean to hurt him… I just wanted to help you guys get off Barbados. But he didn’t want to hear me out. He just brushed me off.” You paused, a sheepish grin forming on your lips. “And… I kinda threw a beer at both of them.”

Sarah blinked, and then snorted, trying to hold back a laugh. “You did what?”

You couldn’t help but laugh with her, feeling the tension start to dissolve as you recounted it. “Yeah, I did. And, honestly? It felt really good.”

Sarah nodded, her laughter still bubbling. “I bet it did. Knowing Rafe, he probably deserved it.”

The two of you kept laughing for a few minutes, the shared moment lightening the mood. But as the laughter faded, the quiet settled in again, and you could feel the weight of unspoken thoughts between you.

“What about you?” you asked gently, glancing at her. “What are you doing here on the porch?”

Sarah let out a small sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly. “John B and I kind of… got into a little fight.”

“What? Why?” you asked, genuinely surprised.

“He’s keeping secrets,” she said, her voice tinged with frustration. “He’s been off with his dad, doing God knows what, and he won’t tell me anything. He’s shutting me out.”

“And he’s not home right now?” you asked, noting the emptiness of the house behind her.

Sarah shook her head. “Nope. Left hours ago.”

You frowned, feeling a mix of sympathy and annoyance on her behalf. “Well, come stay at my place in the morning,” you offered without hesitation.

Sarah let out a small, bitter laugh. “I already tried that. Your parents said I couldn’t stay.”

“Seriously?” you asked, shocked. “Well, I’ll convince them. They can't say no if I’m there.”

Sarah gave you a small, grateful smile, and for a moment, the two of you sat there, letting the quiet between you stretch out, neither of you needing to fill the silence.

As the night wore on, you both stayed on the porch, talking about everything and nothing, comforting each other through shared glances and soft words. There was something healing in just being there for one another, knowing that in a world full of uncertainties, you still had this—the bond of friendship that felt unbreakable.

•°•°•°•°•°•

When the morning light finally broke over the horizon, you and Sarah left John B’s porch, heading to your house. There was a heaviness in your chest as you walked side by side, the comforting silence of the night before now replaced with a quiet anxiety. You knew your parents had probably figured out that you sneaked out, and you were prepared to face their disappointment—but you weren’t ready for how bad it would be.

As you stepped through the front door, the tension in the air was palpable. Your parents were waiting for you, and their expressions made it clear they were not happy.

“Where have you been?” your father demanded, his voice tight with frustration.

You exchanged a quick glance with Sarah before answering. “I was with Sarah,” you said softly, knowing it wouldn’t help your case. “We stayed at John B’s house.”

Your mother crossed her arms, her face a mixture of anger and disappointment. “You were grounded, Y/N. And you sneaked out! You’re lucky nothing happened to you.”

“I know, and I’m sorry,” you replied, your voice trembling slightly. “But Sarah doesn’t have anywhere to go, and I wanted to help her.” You hesitated before asking the question you knew they wouldn’t like. “Can she stay here, just for a little while?”

“No,” your mother said firmly, not even giving it a second thought.

“What? But she has nowhere else to go,” you tried again, desperation creeping into your voice.

“Then she can stay on the Cut,” your father said coldly. “Or anywhere else. But not here.”

You felt the sting of his words deep in your chest. “You can’t be serious. She’s my friend, she’s like family!”

“And you disobeyed us, Y/N,” your mother added sharply. “You were grounded, and instead of coming back home, you stayed out all night. We’re not rewarding that kind of behavior.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling tears prick the corners of your eyes. The frustration and hurt were bubbling up, and you couldn’t believe how cold they were being toward Sarah—someone who was practically part of your family.

Without saying another word, you grabbed Sarah’s hand and turned back toward the door.

“Y/N!” your father called after you, but you didn’t stop. You felt Sarah’s hand tighten in yours as you both walked out of the house, the door closing behind you with a heavy finality.

Outside, the air felt different—fresher, maybe—but the weight in your chest hadn’t lifted. You had hoped that things would be different, that your parents would be more understanding, and more willing to help. Instead, they had pushed you and Sarah away.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, feeling responsible for the rejection. “I thought they would let you stay.”

Sarah gave you a small, reassuring smile. “It’s okay. I didn’t really expect them to say yes.”

“But they should have,” you said angrily. “They should’ve helped you. It’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair,” Sarah shrugged, her voice laced with a resigned sadness. “But I’m used to it.”

You squeezed her hand tightly. “We’ll figure something out.”

Together, you walked down the path away from your house, with no clear plan in mind but determined to stick together, no matter what came next.

TAGS: @wearemadeofstardust0 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @thepopcultureaddict @deeznuggetsbebussin @wtfdudesblog @davinashifts333@pvyden

23 notes · View notes