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#and i always sit on his desk and lean over his screen and try to pick his brain to learn
chvoswxtch · 2 days
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secrets
pairing: frank castle x fem!reader
summary: in the aftermath of your fight with frank, you get more than one unexpected visitor.
warnings: swearing, lots & lots & lots of angst
word count: 4.4k
a/n: it's getting juicyyyy. friendly reminder y'all voted for a double drop this week, so chapter twenty one is coming this friday. enjoy. ;) as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!
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“You keep frownin’ like that, you’re gonna get wrinkles.”
Lifting your focused gaze from your computer screen to the source of a familiar voice, the creases etched along your forehead deepened at the sight of Billy standing in your office doorway, leaning against the frame with his hands tucked into the pockets of his perfectly tailored suit pants and that signature vain smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“What are you doing here?”
“Good to see you too, darlin’.”
Billy let out a dry chuckle, crossing the threshold over towards your desk in just a few quick strides. Leaning over your desk, Billy stretched his hand out to brush his thumb along the space between your eyebrows, effectively smoothing out the crinkles of concentration coupled with confusion. The gesture caught you off guard, and you blinked a few times in surprise as Billy unbuttoned the middle button on his dark gray suit jacket before sitting down in the chair in front of your desk.
“There, that’s better. Now, how ‘bout you at least pretend to be happy to see me.”
Billy arched one of his dark brows, that same smirk still gracing the edge of his lips in a silent tease. Looking over at him, it occurred to you that there always seemed to be some hint of mischief lingering in his deep espresso tinted eyes. Leaning back in your chair and folding your arms over your chest, you gave him a pointed look.
“What can I do for you, Billy?”
“Well aren’t you a ray of sunshine today.”
“I could be worse, if you’d like.”
Billy’s lips split into a full blown grin, and he let out an amused chuckle at the sass dripping from your dry reply.
“Nah, I’ve seen you pissed. I’d prefer to stay on your good side, sweetheart. You wanna tell me what’s got you in such a pleasant mood this mornin’?”
Being around Billy just made you think about Frank, and thinking about Frank only reminded you of the fact that the two of you weren’t in a good place right now. He swore to you the night you confronted him that he was going to wrap this job up as quickly as he could, but that meant he had to devote all of his time to it, which resulted in him being around even less than he had been last month. 
Two weeks had passed since you’d last seen Frank in person. When you woke up in his bed the morning after you’d shown up at his apartment to confront him, he was already gone. He’d left a note on his pillow saying that he would call you soon, but that call didn’t come for four days, and neither one of you had much to say. You thought hearing his voice after being apart for a while would make you feel better about the whole situation, grant you some sense of relief or jumpstart a spark of acceptance you couldn’t find beforehand, but it only made you even more pissed off about what was happening.
And then the call you had with him two days ago really set you off.
Frank had been trying to keep the conversation light, and there was an apologetic tone to his gruff voice, but you couldn’t bite your tongue. The more you sat alone with the vague explanation he had given you, the more his promise of reassurance felt like fraud. You drew blood first, like you always did, but after a round of back and forth passive aggressive exchanges, Frank lost his own temper and went on the defense.
“For Christ’s sake, what else you want me to say, huh? How many other ways I gotta apologize?”
“We shouldn’t even be in this situation right now, Frank-”
“Yeah, well we are, and you’re gonna have to find a way to deal with it cause it ain’t changin’ any goddamn time soon.”
Frank’s aggressive retort only incensed you further. The stress of the current job combined with the growing rift between the two of you eroded his patience into raw frustration, and you were matching his verbal lashes blow for blow.
“Just deal with it? Just deal with you being away and hiding things from me?”
“That’s the job sometimes, alright? You know first hand the kinda shit I gotta do. You know what my world’s like. I told you I was gonna do what I could to get this handled as soon as possible-”
“But this isn’t your normal job, Frank! Stop using that as a fucking excuse. You’ve never had to disappear to God only knows where before, and you’ve never kept secrets from me-”
“Oh for fucks sake. You think that’s what I’m doin’? Makin’ excuses? That’s bullshit and you know it. I told you what I could-”
“And that’s supposed to be enough?“
“It was enough for Maria.”
Those five simple words stunned you silent. They struck a nerve you didn’t even know existed, and Frank, blinded by his aggravation, just kept hacking away at it with his verbal arsenal.
“Ya’know, she never gave me this much fuckin’ shit, and she had to deal with way worse than you. I was away from her and the kids for months at a time, couldn’t tell her a goddamn thing ‘bout what I was really doin’, and she was never on my ass the way you are right now-”
“I’m not her, Frank!”
The only sounds on the line were yours and Frank’s labored breathing, shallow and heavy from yelling and exhausting your vexed emotions on one another. For several moments, neither of you spoke a word, until finally you broke the silence by gritting your teeth and delivering one last blow.
“You know what, don’t fucking call me again until this shit is over.”
Frank, being the stubborn ass that he was, hadn’t attempted to contact you to smooth things over or to apologize. It infuriated you, but in the same breath, you didn’t want to speak to him right now. 
Still, it wasn’t fair of you to take your sour mood out on Billy. He hadn’t done anything wrong. You were upset with Frank, not him. Letting out a deep exhale through your nose, you slowly dragged your palm down your face before leaning back in your chair. You hadn’t noticed how stiffly you’d been sitting until you felt a dull ache in your lower back.
“I…sorry. There’s just…a lot going on right now. I’m spread kinda thin so, I’m…a bit on edge.”
“A bit?”
When you shot him an unamused look, Billy let out a light chuckle and held up his hands in a show of faux surrender.
“Alright, alright. I didn’t come to here to fuck with ya. I actually came to ask a favor.”
An expression of surprise swiftly coveted your features. What could you possibly have to offer Billy Russo?
“A favor?”
Billy leaned back in the chair, adjusting the lapels of his suit before crossing his left leg over his right knee, placing his elbows on the arm rests. Maybe it was because your office was familiar to him, or maybe it was because he was so rich he felt like he owned everything, but Billy had a way of being able to make himself comfortable no matter what setting he was in. Fixing his deep brown eyes on you, that signature smirk of his graced his lips once again when he caught your look of intrigue and confusion.
“As you know, Anvil has a government contract with Homeland Security. It was a big deal for the company, and it’s proven to be a damn good business investment. As a matter of fact, it’s been so successful, that I’ve been meetin’ with a few other branches negotiatin’ another expansion, and recently closed a deal with the CIA.”
“Don’t government contracts kinda defeat the whole private military operation thing?”
“I didn’t hear you complainin’ when that Homeland contract brought you to me.”
Rolling your eyes at the smugness in his voice, you reached for the nearly empty iced coffee sitting on your desk.
“It wasn’t a complaint.”
“Anvil is more than personal protection, darlin’. It’s also convoy security, tactical operations, tailored training, and more. Most of our military contracts are outside of the U.S, so havin’ two on American soil is a huge deal.”
“If you’re trying to sell me on investing, I hate to break it to you, but I think the number currently reflecting in my bank account would make you cry.”
Billy let out a deep chuckle at that, his lips stretching open into a tooth bearing grin. Giving a faint shake of his head, he ran his right hand along the top of his head, smoothing his perfectly styled raven hair back into place.
“That’s not what I’m askin’.”
“Then how do I come into this, exactly?”
“The news hasn’t hit the media yet. Anvil’s hosting a Veteran’s Charity Ball this Saturday night, and I’m gonna make the announcement then. That, pretty girl, is where you come into play. I’d like you to personally cover the story.”
Looking across your desk at Billy, you could see by the look on his face that he was serious about wanting you to cover the piece. A slight furrow nestled between your brows at the idea.
“Why me?”
Billy cocked his head to the side, a sparkle of mirth in his eyes and a sly smile tugging at the edge of his mouth.
“Why would I ask anyone else? You know me, you know the company-”
“Which is kind of conflict of interest-”
“I already cleared it with your editor. You bein’ under the protection of Anvil is classified through Homeland, and since we’re a private company like you mentioned, our records ain’t public. Besides, your editor seemed pretty confident you could write without bias. Look, I want you on this. I’ve read the work of some of the other journalists here, and I gotta tell ya, even if I didn’t know ya, I still woulda picked you.”
Hearing that Billy had already talked to Ellison about this was a surprise to you because Ellison hadn’t mentioned it at all to you. When had Billy talked to him about this? Why hadn’t Ellison told you? Perplexity shrouded your features as you looked over at Billy.
“Ellison didn’t say anything-”
“I asked him not to. I wanted to ask you first, in person. He gave it the green light, but ultimately, it’s up to you if you wanna do it.”
Being kept in the dark seemed to be a recurring theme in your life lately that you weren’t happy with, and it stirred up dull embers of irritation from your fight with Frank. A part of you didn’t want to do it purely out of immature spite, since Billy indirectly had a hand in creating the chasm currently deepening between you and Frank. But that wasn’t fair to Billy. You owed him your life as much as you did Frank and Dinah. Billy played a vital part in keeping you safe and protected from the Defenders of Freedom, and recording Steven’s confession ended up being the smoking gun in proving his involvement.
After a moment of silent contemplation, you let out a light exhale through your lips.
“Alright, I’ll do it.”
“Don’t get too excited, now. It’s only a fancy party with an extensive open bar and catering from all of the best restaurants in the city.”
Trying to fight the smile that threatened to escape across your lips, you looked over at Billy and arched one of your brows.
“Are you trying to bribe me to write you a good article, Mr. Russo?”
“Is it workin’?”
Billy’s mouth was stretched in a wide, wolfish grin, showcasing the top row of his dazzling pearly white teeth. His dark brows were raised slightly up his forehead, and he had that familiar devilish twinkle in his eyes. Giving a soft shake of your head with a dry laugh, you crossed your arms over your chest and relaxed back in your chair.
“What time?”
“Starts at seven, I’ll send a car for ya ‘round six-thirty.”
“You don’t have to do that, I can take a cab-”
“C’mon, you’re doin’ me a favor.”
“Hey, I never agreed to write a good article. I might make you look terrible, just for the fun of it.”
Returning your teasing smile with an amused grin, Billy chuckled with a shake of his head. As he stood up and fixed his maroon tie, he motioned towards your office door with his head.
“Alright, c’mon.”
Staring up at him with a puzzled expression, you let out a soft laugh while he buttoned the middle button of his suit jacket.
“What?”
“I’m takin’ your bratty ass to lunch. Maybe after some food you’ll be a bit nicer.”
Making a show of rolling your eyes in faux exasperation, you stood from your chair and locked your computer before closing your notebook.
“No promises.”
“Well in my experience, you’re more tolerable when you’re fed.”
“Keep talking. Your article is getting worse and worse.”
“I’m sure a few glasses of expensive champagne will fix that.”
Billy turned to take a step towards the door and then abruptly paused, turning back to look at you with another teasing grin.
“Oh, and do me another favor, would ya? See if you can get Frankie to drag his ass out and make an appearance. I think he’s forgotten how to use his phone.”
The mention of Frank’s name instantly tarnished the light hearted mood Billy’s banter had put you in. Letting out a dry scoff, you slipped your phone into your purse and pulled the straps over your shoulder.
“I wouldn’t hold your breath. That job you and Madani have him working has not only turned him into a ghost, but also a complete dick. I’ll let you deal with him.”
Tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, you started to round your desk when you looked up and caught the expression on Billy’s face, and it made you stop in your tracks. His sharp features were suddenly void of their usual playful warmth, and there was no charming smirk etched onto his mouth. His lips were set in a firm line, outlining his chiseled jaw that was covered in a perfectly trimmed dark beard, and his dark brown eyes looked nearly obsidian. 
“The job with Madani?”
There was a faint serrated edge to his tone when he spoke, but you didn’t miss it. Billy’s stare was intense, and you realized he probably thought that you knew something you shouldn’t. Crossing your arms over your chest, you let an irritated exhale escape through your nose as your gaze drifted towards the window of your office.
“Don’t worry, he didn’t tell me anything. Not where he was going, not what he was doing, nothing. So whatever top secret thing you two have him doing, it’s still top secret, alright?”
There was a long pause of silence, and your annoyance started to fade into a feeling of perplexity when you looked back at him and saw a look in Billy’s eyes that you didn’t know how to read. There was a sudden coldness to him, and an emotion you couldn’t decode hidden in his steely gaze. The tense quietness in your office sent an uneasy shiver down your spine, but then it was like a switch was suddenly flipped, and Billy reverted back to the version of him you’re familiar with.
He plastered that charming smirk on his lips again, but you noticed this time, it wasn’t accompanied by the usual mischievous glint in his eyes. 
“Trouble in paradise?”
Crossing your arms over your chest, you dropped your gaze down to the floor for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh.
“I don’t like being lied to, or kept in the dark. I know your line of work is…complicated, I just…I thought Frank and I didn’t have any secrets between us.”
“Sometimes lyin’ and keepin’ somethin’ hidden is the only way to protect someone from the pain of the truth.”
Lifting your head, you met Billy’s intense gaze with an incredulous and inquisitive look.
“You really believe that?”
“Trust me, some secrets are better left buried, darlin’.”
»»———  ———««
The following evening when you came home from work, all you wanted was a long soak in a hot bath and an entire bottle of wine. The stress of the last two weeks wasn’t just taking a toll on you emotionally, it was also physically manifesting in your body. Closing the front door behind you, the lock sounded with a click when you twisted the oval knob, and you lazily tossed your keys onto the side table in the entryway before carelessly tossing your purse onto it as well. 
Coming around the corner into your living room, you nearly had a heart attack when you were suddenly met with the sight of a large figure sitting at your dining table, waiting in the dark. Clutching at your chest in panic and jumping nearly two feet in the air, your voice came out in a shrill shriek.
“Jesus Christ, Frank!”
Frank didn’t physically react to your outburst. He sat as still as a statue in one of the chairs, slightly hunched over with his thighs spread wide, his forearms resting just a few inches above his knees. A bit of dark stubble coated his cheeks and sharp jawline, and his grown out hair was a tousled mess of ebony waves resting against his forehead instead of being pushed back in their usual style.
The swift scare of Frank’s intrusion, his silent treatment, and the lingering resentment you’d been harboring for the past two weeks had you glaring at him.
“How the hell did you get in here?”
His deep brown eyes were fixated on you and his plump lips were set in a stubborn line. Frank’s rugged features were even more pronounced in his resting semi-permanent broody expression. Wordlessly, he lifted one of his large hands, showcasing a set of keys on a ring pinched between his thumb and index finger. One of which, belonged to your front door. 
After everything that had happened at your last place, you couldn’t stay there anymore. You’d quickly moved into a new place that happened to be closer to the Bulletin, and as far as you knew no one had died in it, and there weren’t lingering bullet holes under the paint. Frank had helped you move and set up your security system for you again. You’d forgotten that you’d given him a spare key so he could get in while you were at work.
When you crossed your arms over your chest in a defensive stance, Frank caught the pissed off look on your face, and when you opened your mouth to lash out at him, he quickly cut you off with his rough voice before you could get a word out.
“Said not to call. Didn’t say nothin’ ‘bout comin’ to see ya.”
The snippiness of his comment made you narrow your eyes in his direction. Clenching your jaw, you pursed your lips tightly as your face contorted into a portrait of annoyance. You were about to snap back at him when you noticed out of the corner of your eye that there was a packed bag sitting on the dining table next to him.
It was yours.
Eyes flickering between your bag and Frank, you stared at him in a mixture of irritation and confusion.
“What the hell is that for?”
“I gotta leave town for a bit. I told ya I’d make sure you were taken care of while I was gone, so you’re gonna stay with a friend of mine.”
“And you didn’t think to ask me if that was something I even wanted to do?”
“It ain’t up for discussion.”
Frank hadn’t been this cold towards you since the early days of when he was your bodyguard. For a moment your exasperation evaporated, wondering if things between the two of you were worse than you thought. Picking up on the slight change in your body language and facial expression, Frank let out a deep exhale through his large nose and slowly stood up from the chair.
“I can’t do what I need to do if I’m worryin’ ‘bout you bein’ alone here, alright? It’s just for a few days.”
“Frank, I’m not in any danger anymore. No one is actively trying to kill me. If you’re that worried about me being alone, Billy can stop by-”
“No.”
The aggressive tone of Frank’s voice and the roughness of his tone caught you off guard. Frank glanced away from you, his eyes darting around your living room for a few seconds before they finally returned to you. His left hand was tightly grasped in a fist, but on his right, his index and middle finger twitched. A sharp exhale escaped his large nose, and his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip quickly before he spoke again.
“Look you wanna be pissed at me, be pissed at me, but don’t put yourself at risk cause of it. Maybe you’re right, yeah? Maybe you ain’t a target no more. But I’d rather know you were safe than have to deal with the fact later on that I shoulda done more. I ain’t takin’ that risk again.”
It was like a light bulb went off in your head when he spoke that last sentence. In the midst of your own tangled mess of selfish feelings, you hadn’t once stopped to think about how Frank felt about all of this. A sinking feeling of remorse settled in your stomach hearing the frustration but also the lingering pain in his voice when he spoke. 
I ain’t takin’ that risk again.
He’d had his entire family ripped away from him in one single moment, right in front of his eyes, of course he was fucking paranoid. From your perspective, Steven was facing life in prison, and all the remaining members of the Defenders of Freedom were gonna rot with him, so you didn’t think you had anything to be worried about.
But Frank saw danger everywhere. He anticipated it. He planned for it. And that’s what he was doing right now. 
Frank was doing the exact same thing he’d been doing every single day since he met you: keeping you safe.
Letting out a deep sigh, you looked down at the floor for a moment to gather your irrational thoughts and rein in your impulsive emotions. When you raised your head, your eyes flickered from the packed bag sitting on your dining table back to Frank’s unrelenting stare. Running one of your hands stressfully through the roots of your hair, you made a faint gesture of throwing your hands up in concession.
“Alright, well if you’re not leaving me with Billy, I’m assuming you’re not taking me to Madani either. So, does Matt know I’m coming?”
Frank’s steely expression crumbled at the mention of Matt’s name. He pulled a face like you’d just asked a ridiculous question, a furrow of annoyance and confusion settling between his thick brows.
“You think I’d leave you with him?”
Letting out a dry scoff void of humor, you rolled your eyes with a shake of your head and folded your arms across your chest.
“Just because he’s blind-”
“It ain’t got shit to do with him bein’ blind.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“The problem is I don’t trust him to keep his fuckin’ hands to himself, and I ain’t lettin’ him pull that ‘poor blind orphan’ shit on you.”
A look of surprise crossed your face as your brows lifted slightly up your forehead, and it took every ounce of self control not to laugh or show any indication of amusement. Frank wouldn’t leave you in Matt’s care because he was worried he would…hit on you?
Letting out a grunt, Frank grabbed the handles of your bag in his left hand and swiped it off the table.
“He’s too preoccupied at night anyway.”
“Doing what, exactly?”
“Bein’ the goddamn Devil. C’mon.”
When Frank walked past you towards your front door, you turned around to watch him, narrowing your eyes in irritation.
“Can you at least tell me who you’ve employed to babysit me then?”
Frank paused at your front door, which he took up the entire frame of, and his head dropped between his shoulders for a moment. You could hear him audibly voice his frustration with your attitude when he let out another sharp exhale before turning to look at you over his shoulder.
“A friend of mine.”
“Yeah, you said that. A friend of yours, that you’ve never mentioned before. Do I have to have some kind of top secret security clearance for you to tell me their name?”
There was a scowl on Frank’s face as he glowered at you, turning around to face you fully. He dropped your bag on the floor with a light thud, scrunching up his face for a moment as he inhaled sharply through his large nose, cocking his head to the side.
“Christ. This what you wanna do right now, huh?”
Returning his glare with just as much vehemence, you let out a dry and humorless laugh as you gestured around loosely.
“No, Frank. This isn’t what I want-”
“Look you wanna keep bustin’ my goddamn balls, fine. But do it from the truck, yeah? You can antagonize me with your bullshit all you want while I drive, but we got somewhere to be.”
Clenching your jaw, your hands balled into frustrated fists at your sides. For a moment the two of you were locked in some kind of silent staring contest. You were so sick of every conversation with Frank lately turning into an argument that ended with the two of you at each other’s throats. You didn’t have the patience to combat his stubborn dedication to being a self righteous asshole. Gritting your teeth, you stormed forward and grabbed your own bag as you brushed past him out your front door, swearing under your breath.
“Dick.”
Frank pursed his full lips and nodded his head, turning around to follow you after forcefully shutting your front door behind himself.
“Yeah yeah, get in the goddamn truck.”
tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawksfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress
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Veni, Vidi, Vici | Michael Gavey x fem!reader
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Summary: Things finally come to a head following the last of Michael's exams | Word Count: 3.2k~ | Warnings: p in v sex, virginity loss, somewhat tipsy sex
Part One : Quid Pro Quo Part Two : Carpe Diem
A:N: let's just ignore the fact this has been in my drafts since December 😘 And yes, I didn't come the first time either, it happens okkkk. Sorry if this is all over the place, I wrote half of it like four months ago and the other half last week soo
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Every single time she saw his username pop up on her computer, an involuntary smile spread across her face, and warmth pooled in her belly with the memory of that evening still fresh in her mind. She isn’t quite sure what she enjoys remembering more, his flushed cheeks and glasses askew or the way he was trying to adjust his cargo trousers to somewhat hide his erection by the end of their second tryst.
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After that short interaction though, she was surprised at his restraint, if not a bit impressed. She’d at least managed to avoid the irresistible pull of his company in time to finish the last of her exams. And as for Michael, were it not for the odd text message or the ‘active’ icon next to his username in MSN, she would have thought he dropped off the face of the planet.
Part of her can imagine him now, bent over his desk, twirling a pencil between his fingers, mind working like freshly-oiled cogs and pushing his glasses up his nose. Completely concentrated. And yet, he was still on his computer, with the application open, as if to test his own restraint.
And to be fair to him, he never cracked, not once. For the entire time since their last meeting and now, he never messaged.
With her own exams out of her way, she spent most of her time with Priya (albeit at the pub, with glasses of wine emptied as well as the details of every meeting she’d had with Michael Gavey).
“Oh my god, as if you are into nerdy little white boys!” she laughed with a cigarette perched between her two fingers and proclaimed far too loudly so that the entire pub heard.
“Shut u-” she retorted with a slap to her arm, “besides, not so little, if you know what I mean.”
“It’s like I hardly know you. I love it.”
“Stop it,” she retorts, sitting back in her chair with a flush to her face, “he's genuinely nice.”
“That's not what I heard,” Priya snorts, “I hear he had a hissy fit on like the first day ‘cos someone wouldn't ask him a sum.”
“He's very passionate.”
“Hm,” she widened her eyes, “let’s hope it translates.”
She presses her lips together to keep herself from smiling. Watching Priya’s mind tick will never get old.
“Oh my fucking god, is he a v-”
“Yes, Priya!”
She gasps in mock surprise, “you absolute gremlin. So you've not…?”
“Not yet,” she replies with a shake of her head, “told him we could after he's done his exams.”
“And you're making him wait for it? I had no idea you were so cruel.”
She shrugs, biting back a smile as her eyes drop to the table. Excitement bubbling in her belly.
Priya leans in, her voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper, "So, spill it then. What's the plan for the big night?"
She chuckles nervously, swirling the remnants of her wine in her glass. "I don't know, Priya. I've never been in this position before. It's like uncharted territory."
Priya's eyes widen with exaggerated shock. “My queen of confidence, feeling nervous? This I have to see."
She rolls her eyes, but there's a playful glint in them. "Oh, shut up. It's different when it's someone you actually like."
Priya nods understandingly, but then her expression turns mischievous. "Well, just remember to relax and enjoy yourself. And if all else fails, there's always wine."
She laughs, shaking her head. "Thanks, Priya. I appreciate the pep talk."
Priya grins, raising her glass. "To new adventures and nerdy white boys!"
As they continue chatting, her phone buzzes with a new message. She glances down at the screen, a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks. Priya notices her reaction and nudges her playfully. "Ooh, speak of the devil?"
She nods, trying to suppress her smile as she reads the message. "Yeah, he's just about to go in for his exam." 
Priya winks suggestively. "Maybe he's hoping for a sneak preview of what's to come? You know, for luck.”
“Ha ha,” she rolls her eyes, typing off a quick reply of good luck, “remind me to never tell you personal shit ever again.”
“Mate, it's the suit. You're gonna see him in it and jump his di-”
“Priya!”
“What?!”
She should have known better really that wine tends to have this loosening effect on Priya. And she'd barely finished her own glass before it was time to hop off and meet Michael after his very last exam. It was the perfect day for it, with the sun blaring, everyone was in a good mood, with an electrifying and exciting atmosphere light in the breeze.
As she waited with the other groups of friends waiting to cheer on the examinees, she felt that pleasant roll of nerves in her stomach, biting her lip to contain her smile.
She thought that with some level of embarrassment, she was really really falling for this guy. Or this ‘nerdy, white boy’ as Priya so eloquently put it.
Her cheeks hurt from smiling when she saw his lanky, suit clad form saunter out of the exam hall. Her chest ached pleasantly when he hopefully scanned the crowd, watching others join their friends in celebration. And for a moment, she thought she detected the slightest hint of fomo.
But nothing compared to when he finally spotted her.
Though Michael tried to hide it, a thin lipped smile spread across his face, fiddling with the cap he held in his palms, looking down as if to hide his expression.
Her hands found the front of his suit, affectionately running over the material, “Hey. You look nice.”
He nearly rolled his eyes, “can't wait to get out of it. Too hot for this.”
The excited squealing and shouting stole both of their attention for a moment, particularly Michael's. He glanced sideways at the Felix Catton, with his newest toy, smiling and laughing without a care in the world.
She furrowed her brows, patting his chest, “who's that?”
Michael blinked behind his glasses, throat bobbing as he remained quiet for a moment, “No-one. Come on, let's go.”
As they settled by the tranquil riverbank, the gentle murmur of the water providing a soothing backdrop, they both relaxed into the moment. The weight of the exam stress began to lift, replaced by the lightness of shared laughter and companionship.
Sitting side by side, their feet dangling over the edge, they clinked their bottles together in a silent toast before taking refreshing sips. The sun cast a warm glow over them, painting the scene with hues of gold and amber.
Leaning back on their hands, they watched as birds soared overhead, their graceful movements adding to the serenity of the afternoon. Occasionally, a playful breeze would ruffle their hair, prompting soft chuckles and playful swats.
“So, have you decided yet?” 
She glanced at him over her shoulder, “what?”
He fiddled with his tie that he'd long taken off in somewhat of a nervous gesture, “it’s been 142 minutes.”
She furrowed her brows, trying not to look amused, “since what?”
He chuckled, trying to hide his nerves. “You said you'd consider being my girlfriend after exams.”
Her smile widened, a fondness evident in her gaze. “Oh, that? Well, I guess it's been 142 minutes too long then, hasn't it?”
She could see the way he was trying not to look too relieved. “Really?”
“Really,” she confirmed, leaning in to press a tender kiss to his lips. “But only if you promise to stop counting the minutes.”
He cocked his head, a breathy laugh falling from between his lips, a faint flush rising to his cheeks at the brief moment of contact. “No can do.”
She hummed a laugh, the lightness of the situation making her stomach flip, “Are the Carol Vorderman posters non-negotiable too?”
He threw his head up to the sky, “Fucking christ, I don’t have-”
“I know! I know!”
Had Michael seen himself months ago, he wouldn’t have imagined it, walking back to his dorm with a half-empty stomach and the alcohol to replace it with a tipsy waddle, and a girl’s hand closed in his, swinging at their sides.
Whereas campus was usually rife with busy students, toing and froing between the library, lectures and their dorms, today was calm, clear. And it felt as if for once, Michael could loosen the reins on the anticipation that had been building in preparation for his exams, and relax into the soothing company she offered. 
She laughed as he tripped over the threshold to his room, the tiniest drop of fruity cider still at the bottom of her bottle. Michael flushed and immediately went to unbutton his shirt, looking somewhat apprehensive.
“Leave it on, if you want,” she smiled coyly, watching the way a blush crept up his neck, his wide blue eyes beneath the frames of his glasses all shy with anticipation.
“...you sure?”
She nodded immediately, trying to calm his nerves. Though she could hardly blame him, she'd felt the same flutters in her belly when it was her first time. She was sure he was no different.
“Course, looks good on you anyway,” she mused, her fingers gently swatting his hand away playfully to undo only the top few buttons. Michael shivered at her touch there, sending waves of pleasurable nerves through his body.
They stood there for a moment, taking each other in, and as she set her bottle down on the desk, she couldn't help but lean in to press one, two, tipsy kisses to his neck. If she could see his face, his eyes had long since slipped shut, lips parted as if not knowing what on earth to say.
“I've…never done this before.”
“It's okay,” she whispered, breath hot on his skin, “I'll look after you.”
The cheeky smile she gave him made his heart almost stop dead in his chest. But his confession, and her calm receiving of it, seemed to bridge the gap between them, and when she turned her head to look at him, he captured the surprised gasp between his lips, and worked up the courage he'd built the last two trysts of intimacy into this one tender moment.
It was gentle at first, hesitant. But as their mutual desire overcame their initial shyness, it deepened in no time.
Her hands found their way to the back of his neck, careful fingers threading up over his nap to the sandy, blonde hair that had formed a subtle wave from the humidity. His own hands settled on her waist, pulling their bodies flush. And the softness of her lips and the anticipation of his hands drifting lower to the hem of her dress, had his stomach doing backflips.
They moved to the bed by sheer instinct, their kisses growing more urgent as she gently pushed him down and straddled his lap, all while his hands roamed her back, waist and lower towards her thighs, exploring the contours and curves of her body above him.
She pulled back slightly, her own face flushed from heat, feeling his hardness already between her legs where she was placed on top of him, “trust me, okay?”
Michael nodded, the bob of his throat betraying how nervous he was, “I do...”
She smiled, her own confidence calming his nerves, and guided his hands to the straps of her dress, showing without words that there was nothing beneath it. Michael himself let out a strained whimper when her hand crept up his thigh, and massaged his erection through his suit trousers, squeezing up his shaft to the sensitive tip.
“We can do it like this, if you prefer..” she whispered, wanting to do things the way he wanted for his first time.
He nodded, looking up at her with an expression that said everything, relief, “yeah, please..”
Her hands were tender and slow, undoing the heavy buckle of his belt and popping the button, each movement making the air feel hot in his chest. And emboldened by their intimacy, his own hands slid up her thighs, rolling the hem of her dress up to her hips, sighing against her lips and smirking when she whined at his grip.
“Fuck-” 
It was her turn to grin when she finally wrapped her hand around him, pulling him from the confines of his boxers and teasing him with her touch. His eyes dared to look between them, at her slender fingers around his cock, drawing both delicious pleasure and sending sparks up his spine. 
Her hips lowered, to grind herself on his length, and Michael nearly lost it there and then, even thinking about being inside her. To be honest, it was part of the reason he wanted to stay clothed, because he'd finish too quickly if he saw her completely naked.
“You okay?” She asked with a pleased smile, knowing her answer without needing an answer.
“Y-yeah…do I need…”
“It's up to you,” she reassured, “I'm clean, and I'm on the pill so…”
He nodded, secretly a little mortified at the idea of having his first time without protection on his part. It had always been drilled into him that, in truth, he was a little apprehensive, but the knowledge that she was careful, made him feel better about it.
“Do you want me like this?” She asked quietly, her lips at his jaw, pressing tiny gentle kisses, “me on top.”
“Yeah, yeah…”, Michael nodded quickly, his hands tightening at her hips. In truth he just wanted to do it, too wound tight and excited to care about the position.
She shuffled closer, trailing her lips down his neck as she pulled her underwear to one side. Truthfully the alcohol, as little as it was, had made her a bit needy for him the second he walked out of the exam hall. And being his first time, it was probably just as well he didn't feel the need to prepare her, assuming it'd be overwhelming for him.
Slowly she lowered herself onto him, the initial stretch stealing the air from her lungs for a moment. She could feel his breath come in ragged gasps. His grip tighten. And as soon as she felt him tense, she stopped and let him decide when he wanted to continue.
She was so warm and tight around him, Michael couldn't help at first but think it was uncomfortable. But once he took a breath, he could feel her silky walls envelop him, closing in with a desperate hold. It was hard to stay still. And that initial discomfort ebbed into relaxation.
She was about to ask if he was okay, but she let out a strained moan, as his hands pushed her hips down to meet his as he pushed up, pulling her on top of him so that she was flush to his body.
Her hands held him tight, he felt utterly different inside her than she had imagined. The stretch of him was a pleasurable pain at first, but once she'd relaxed and adjusted around him, after months of no sex, she felt herself grind on him slightly.
“Jesus fucking Christ-”
She smiled at that, leaning up to face him, “you okay?..”
“God, yeah, very okay-” he manages.
“Do you want me to-”
“Can I…” he asks, “please.”
“Y-yeah-” 
His hand slipped behind her neck, tugging her lips down to his, while the other slid down her back, pushing her down on him to meet him halfway with every tentative thrust into her. From this position, with her chest nearly flush to his, her breasts rippling over the top of her dress rhythmically, she could feel him deeper. And the sensation had her unable to form any coherent thought.
She knew he wouldn't last long. Judging by the way he was moaning lowly against her lips and how his hips stuttered as they moved.
She also didn't expect any kind of orgasm from the experience, fully wanting it to just be comfortable for Michael and nothing else. But when he pulls her down, his hands snaking around her waist tightly, and the cooling sensation on his glasses against her shoulder as he buries his head there, she finds that, whether he intended to or not, he brushes against her sweet spot.
Michael groans as she tightens around him slightly, each push inside of her fuels the numb, simmering sparks of an orgasm, slowly building, and she is powerless to stop it.
“Fffuck-”
And yet she can feel him losing momentum. He's worn himself out too early she can tell. So pushing herself off his chest, she sits up on top of him and does the work herself. Her thighs burn and she feels a bit self conscious being in full view like this, but it feels too good for her to care. She grinds her hips down on his length, looking down at Michael and watching his appreciative expression, his glasses skewed slightly.
His jaw goes slack at the renewed pace, and his hands remain on her waist as he throws his head back, brows furrowed, the tell tale sign he's nearly there. So concentrated on moving on top of him, she knows she won't come, but it still feels nice nonetheless.
And as she pushes her hips backwards and forwards on him, nudging her sweet spot more forcefully, she cries out, causing Michael to look down between them and watch the way he disappears inside of her, moist bodies slapping together.
“Oh fuck, fuck, I'm-”
Michael would be ashamed to say how much he's touched himself to the thought of that first night with her, when she knelt between his legs in the common room. Of course, it felt good. But finishing inside her, with her smooth, velvety walls sucking him in, fluttering around him, feels so entirely different. It's like being on another planet.
His hips give a few final mini thrusts up into her, before he stills, riding out his high and letting himself descend from heaven. He is only brought back, when she leans down to kiss his neck, trailing up to his jaw.
“You okay?...” She asks, her voice ragged and quiet.
Michael swallows through breaths he sucks in, “yeah…” he answers simply, glancing up at her and smiling through foggy lenses. “You?”
She laughs breathily, her fingers drawing patterns on his chest, “More than okay.”
“Even though you didn't…?”
“Don't worry about me. Tonight was for you,” she smiles, sliding off him to his side, and pulling her dress down slightly. “You did great, you know.”
He chuckles, tucking himself away, slinging an arm around her, “guess all that practice watching Countdown paid off.”
She snorts a laugh at that, the atmosphere lifting, “yeah, remind me to send Carol Vordermann an official thank you.”
Michael grins, feeling more relaxed now. "You think she'd respond? Maybe send me an autograph for my wall?"
She laughs, nudging him playfully. "Oh, I'm sure she'd be thrilled to know she had such a positive impact on your life.” she smiles at him, tucking herself beneath the covers, “anyway stop talking about other women around me, I get jealous.”
“Sor-ry,” he smirks. Michael's grin widens as he pretends to ponder deeply. "Well, as long as you're teaching, maybe you could help me with all the different positions... in grammar, of course."
She laughs, her eyes twinkling with amusement as he rolls on top of her, her legs parting instinctually. "Oh, absolutely, but I must warn you, I'm very thorough."
Michael replies, voice low and warm, his hand stealing between them both to slide his fingers between her thighs. “Good thing I'm a quick learner then.”
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General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blackswxnn @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch
@castellomargot @emmaisafictionwhore @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @justbelljust
@minholy223 @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @primonizzutto
@qyburnsghost @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince
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estellan0vella · 2 days
Text
I'll Take Care of Everything ❀ Toji Fushiguro Masterlist HFBU
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The midday sun filters through the windows of your office, casting a warm glow on your desk as you try to focus on the task at hand. The soft hum of the air conditioner and the occasional clatter of keyboards provide a familiar backdrop to your workday. You're typing up a report, your fingers moving methodically over the keyboard, when you feel it coming—the hazy fog that signals an absent seizure.
Your vision blurs and the world around you fades into a muted blur of colours and sounds. You stare blankly at the screen, your mind drifting away. These moments, though brief, always leave you feeling vulnerable and exposed. You know it's only a matter of time before your boss, Mr. Tanaka, notices.
Sure enough, just as you start to come back to yourself, you hear his sharp voice cutting through the office chatter with a sharp snap of your name.
"Are you even paying attention to what you're doing?" Mr. Tanaka's tone is harsh, and you can feel the eyes of your co-workers on you as he approaches your desk.
You blink rapidly, trying to shake off the remnants of the seizure. "I'm sorry, Mr. Tanaka. I was just—"
"Just spacing out again, I see," he interrupts, his face twisted in a scowl. "This isn't the first time. How do you expect to keep up with your work if you're constantly daydreaming?"
His words sting, each one like a sharp slap to your self-esteem. You want to explain, to tell him about your condition, but the lump in your throat makes it hard to speak. Instead, you look down at your hands, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes.
"I'm sorry," you whisper, but it's clear that your apology does little to appease him.
"Sorry doesn't cut it," he snaps. "If you can't stay focused, maybe you should consider finding a job that's more suited to your... abilities."
The humiliation burns hot in your chest and the tears you've been holding back start to spill over. You stand up abruptly, mumbling an excuse as you rush out of the office. You can't bear to stay another moment under his scornful gaze.
You make it to the bathroom and lock yourself in a stall, your body trembling with silent sobs. The walls feel like they're closing in, and the cold, clinical light only heightens your sense of isolation. You lean against the door, taking deep, shaky breaths as you try to calm down.
After what feels like an eternity, you manage to compose yourself enough to leave the bathroom. You grab your bag and head for the exit, not caring that it's still the middle of the day. You need to get out of there, to find a place where you can breathe without feeling judged.
The walk to your apartment is a blur, and by the time you reach your front door, you're emotionally exhausted. You fumble with your keys, your hands still shaking, and finally manage to unlock the door.
Inside, the familiar scent of home greets you, and you collapse onto the couch, burying your face in a cushion. The tears come again, harder this time, as the weight of the day's events crashes down on you.
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It's in this state that Toji finds you when he comes home a short while later. His sharp eyes take in your tear-streaked face, the way your body trembles with each sob, and his expression softens.
"Hey," he says gently, sitting down beside you and wrapping a strong arm around your shoulders. "What's wrong?"
His voice is a soothing balm, and you lean into his embrace, feeling a flicker of comfort amidst the storm of your emotions. "It's my boss," you manage to choke out. "He... he yelled at me after a seizure. He doesn't understand. He thinks I'm just... lazy or something."
Toji's jaw tightens, a dangerous glint flashing in his eyes. "He said that to you?"
You nod, sniffling. "He humiliated me in front of everyone. I couldn't stay. I just... I couldn't."
Toji pulls you closer, his presence a solid, reassuring anchor. "You did the right thing by leaving," he murmurs, his voice low and steady. "You don't deserve to be treated like that."
You cling to him, as he gently strokes your hair. "I just... I hate feeling like this. Like I'm broken."
"You're not broken," he says firmly, tilting your chin up so you're looking into his eyes. "You're strong, and you're doing your best. Don't let that bastard make you feel otherwise."
His words are a lifeline, and you feel a spark of hope igniting in your chest. "Thank you," you whisper, resting your head against his shoulder.
Toji holds you until your sobs subside, his presence a calming force that helps steady your racing heart. "You need to rest," he says softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Get some sleep. I'll take care of everything."
You nod, too exhausted to argue. He helps you to your feet and guides you to the bedroom, where you curl up under the covers, the familiar scent of the sheets offering a small measure of comfort.
As you drift off to sleep, you feel Toji's hand gently stroking your hair, and the last thing you hear before you succumb to the darkness is his whispered promise.
"I'll make sure he pays for this."
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The next morning, you wake up feeling drained but a little more composed. The events of the previous day still weigh heavily on your mind, but you try to push them aside as you get ready for the day. You have no intention of going back to the office just yet, but you know you can't avoid it forever.
As you sip your coffee, you hear the front door open and close. Toji appears a moment later, looking calm but with an air of satisfaction about him.
"Morning," he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "How are you feeling?"
"Better," you admit, though your voice is still a bit shaky. "Did you... did you go out?"
"Yeah," he says nonchalantly, but there's a hard edge to his tone. "Had a little chat with your boss."
You blink, a mixture of worry and curiosity bubbling up inside you. "What did you do?"
Toji smirks, but his eyes are serious. "Just reminded him that treating people like shit has consequences. And treating my girl like shit has consequences his tiny dick, small pea brain can't even begin to imagine. He won't be bothering you again."
The way he says it sends a shiver down your spine, but you can't deny the sense of relief that washes over you as you giggle at his wording. "Thank you," you say softly, reaching out to squeeze his hand.
"Always," he replies, his grip warm and reassuring.
Later that day, as you try to relax and recover, you receive an email notification on your phone. Your heart skips a beat when you see it's from Mr. Tanaka. With a deep breath, you open the email, bracing yourself for whatever it might contain.
To your surprise, the tone is entirely different from anything you've ever received from him before.
Subject: Formal Apology
Dear Y/N,
I hope this message finds you well. I am writing to offer my sincerest apologies for my behaviour yesterday. My actions were unprofessional and unacceptable, and I deeply regret the distress I caused you.
I have taken some time to reflect on the situation and realize that I need to be more understanding and supportive of my employees' needs. Effective immediately, I am offering you a significant pay raise and a bonus as a gesture of goodwill. I hope you will accept this as a token of my remorse and commitment to creating a better working environment.
Please let me know if there is anything else I can do to support you.
Sincerely,
Mr. Tanaka
You stare at the email in disbelief, reading it over several times to make sure you're not imagining things. A mix of emotions churn within you—relief, vindication, and a lingering trace of anger.
Toji notices your expression and raises an eyebrow. "Good news?"
You hand him the phone, and he reads the email quickly, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. "Looks like he got the message."
You can't help but laugh, a sound that feels foreign but wonderful after everything that's happened. "Yeah, it looks like he did."
Toji pulls you into a hug, and you melt into his embrace. "You're amazing," you whisper against his chest.
"So are you," he replies, kissing the top of your head. "And don't you forget it."
After breakfast, you find yourself lounging on the couch, scrolling through social media and chatting with Toji. His gruff exterior and no-nonsense attitude often contrast amusingly with his tender, loving moments with you. Today, you decide to push that contrast to the next level.
"Hey," you say, looking at him with a mischievous glint in your eye.
"Hmm?" he replies, not looking up from his book.
"How do you feel about a little pampering session?"
He raises an eyebrow, his attention finally shifting to you. "Pampering session? What do you have in mind?"
You grin and head to the bathroom, coming back with a couple of face masks and some other skincare products. "I was thinking we could do face masks together. It'll be fun!"
Toji eyes the colorful packets warily. "Face masks? Seriously?"
"Seriously," you say, holding up a pink packet adorned with cute cartoon illustrations. "It'll be good for your skin, and besides, it's relaxing."
He snorts, but there's a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Alright, fine. But only because you asked."
You sit him down on the couch and start explaining the steps. Toji listens with an exaggerated look of scepticism, which only makes you giggle more.
"First, we need to cleanse your face," you say, handing him a bottle of cleanser.
He grumbles but follows your instructions, and soon enough, he's got a clean, damp face. You apply the mask next, gently smoothing the cool gel over his rough, handsome features. He twitches slightly at the sensation but remains still, his eyes fixed on you with a mix of curiosity and amusement.
"How does it feel?" you ask, stepping back to admire your handiwork.
"Cold," he says, deadpan. "And slimy."
You laugh, applying your own mask quickly before sitting beside him. "Now we just let them sit for a while. It's supposed to be good for the skin, remember?"
He sighs dramatically but leans back, closing his eyes. "If you say so."
You both sit there in comfortable silence, the minutes ticking by as the masks work their magic. The sight of Toji with a bright pink face mask is both endearing and hilarious, and you can't help but sneak a few pictures on your phone.
When the time is up, you carefully peel off the masks and wash your faces. Toji's skin looks noticeably brighter, and you can't resist teasing him about it.
"See? I told you it would be good for you," you say, gently patting his cheek.
He rolls his eyes but smiles. "Yeah, yeah. You're lucky I love you."
You spend the rest of the day cuddling, watching movies, and just enjoying each other's company. Toji's unwavering support and willingness to step out of his comfort zone for you make you feel cherished and adored. As the afternoon sun filters through the windows, casting a warm glow over your home, you realize just how lucky you are to have someone like him by your side.
In the evening, you cook dinner together, laughing and teasing each other as you chop vegetables and stir pots. Toji's culinary skills might be a bit rough around the edges, but he makes up for it with enthusiasm and a surprisingly good sense of taste.
After dinner, you curl up on the couch once more, this time with a cozy blanket and a favorite movie playing. Toji wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. You rest your head on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath your ear.
"Thank you for today," you murmur, your eyes growing heavy with contentment.
"Anytime," he replies, his voice a soothing rumble as he holds you a bit tighter. "I'll always be here for you."
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freebooter4ever · 1 year
Photo
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I havent had any finished drawings lately, so have this breakdown instead ^_^ the first one is a quick color study i did a while ago where i was trying to figure out what direction all the light sources were coming from... and then set it aside. And weeks later picked it up again to do the line art, the flat colors, the shadows, the light, and finally all four of those merged into the final image.
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vanteguccir · 3 months
Text
TikTok trends | Matt Sturniolo | pt. 3
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Matt Sturniolo x reader
Summary: 4 times that Y/N and Matt made a couple's trend on tiktok.
Warning: None.
Requested?: Yes, by anons and @remussbitch
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
1.
Y/N sat on Matt's lap, who was sitting on his gaming chair, stretching her torso so that she could reach her phone that was on the computer desk.
The TikTok camera screen was already open and ready to start recording. The girl quickly clicked the red button before settling on Matt's thighs, smiling slightly.
Matt's arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to his body so that her back was pressed firmly against his chest.
"Hi guys! After many requests from you, today, Matt will finally tell how we started our relationship." She explained to the camera while gesturing.
"That's right! Well, as you already know we grew up in the same neighborhood-" Matt stopped his sentence when his eyes focused on Y/N through the phone screen, seeing her upper lip stuck above her teeth, forming a beaver smile. "Babe, are you okay?" He moved slightly away from her, leaning to his left side so he could see her side profile up close.
"Yes, why?" Y/N dropped her expression, looking back at him with a frown as if he were crazy.
"Nothing." He shook his head, raising his eyebrows before returning to his starting position. "So, Mary Lou knew Y/N's mom-" Matt stopped abruptly when he saw her making the same face out of the corner of his eye.
The boy took a deep breath, closing his eyes momentarily while shaking his head before looking at her phone, about to speak again.
Y/N quickly returned with the weird smile, looking at him from the corner of her eyes as she swallowed her laugh.
"Y/N, stop! I'm trying to tell the story!" Matt spoke, his tone coming out slightly irritated. His hands grabbed his girlfriend's waist and pushed her slightly forward, making her sit on his knees. "So, she was always in my house just like I was in hers. We were inseparable-"
"Yes!" Y/N nodded repeatedly, opening a huge smile.
"Oh my God... You're going to give me nightmares if you keep this up." Matt sighed deeply.
"But I'm not doing anything!" The girl replied, noticing him starting to get upset.
"You be like-" He imitated the huge smile before rolling his eyes. "Are you making fun of my smile because of my big teeth?"
"What? Baby, of course not. I'm-" Y/N interrupted her sentence when she saw Matt's eyes take on a sad look, looking at her seriously while pressing his lips into a thin line. "Babe, no! I love your smile more than anything." She insisted, tilting her upper body to the side so she could see him over her shoulder.
"But then why do you keep doing this?" Matt looked up at her again, his tone full of insecurity, a frown decorating his face.
"Oh my love, it's just a prank! I love your smile, I promise. No wonder I compliment it all the time." Y/N moved so that she was sitting sideways on Matt's lap, raising her hands to his face, cupping his jaw affectionately.
"Hm..." He muttered, looking at the camera for a second before focusing on her face, a small smile growing on his lips. "I'll finish telling it with you like this now then." Matt raised his right hand, pressing his palm against his girlfriend's lips jokingly.
Y/N threw her head back, letting out a loud laugh, feeling relief to see her boy happy again.
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2.
"I'm dating a triplet, of course most of our dates will be interrupted by one of his brothers." Y/N spoke to the front camera of her phone, before double clicking on the screen so that the back one recorded her boyfriend, Matt, and his brother, Chris, sitting on the other side of the table, side by side.
Chris had an almost childish smile on his face and bright eyes, his hand resting on the table; while Matt had a look of boredom, his head resting in the palm of his hand, which was held up by his elbow on the wooden surface.
CUT
"I'm dating a triplet, of course I'm going to have to fight with the younger triplet every time only to be able to sit in the front seat." Y/N spoke again to the front camera of her cell so that it caught her figure sitting in the passenger seat.
Her hand moved, causing the camera to catch Chris sitting on the seat behind her, his face showing an angry look with his arms crossed against his chest, Nick's laugh sounding in the background.
CUT
"I'm dating a triplet, of course one of the other two is my best friend." Y/N spoke to the front camera, smiling as she moved her hand so the lens caught Nick.
The boy was sitting next to her on the bed in her shared room with Matt, his legs crossed on the mattress and several snacks surrounding him.
Nick lifted his face that was focused on his own phone, turning it towards the camera and opening a big smile. He raised his right hand, making the peace sign, before a laugh escaped his lips.
CUT
"I'm dating a triplet, of course people ask me which one is my boyfriend." Y/N spoke to her phone.
A chuckle escaped her lips as Matt's head appeared next to hers, his right eyebrow raised in confrontation.
"It's me, guys!"
CUT
"I'm dating a triplet, of course Matt and I have to go out at any time of the day with the car to pick up Chris or Nick from some appointment they had." Y/N spoke again, smiling and moving her hand so that the front camera of her cell caught Matt, who was driving with a concentrated look on his face.
The brunette hit the brakes seconds after, parking the car on the side of the street, turning to his girlfriend and playfully rolling his eyes at the camera, nodding his head.
Y/N double-clicked on the screen, recording the sidewalk with the rear camera, showing Nick and Chris with backpacks on their backs and looking around, searching for them with their eyes.
Her and Matt's laughter sounded from behind the phone before the TikTok ended.
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3.
"Had to tell her that dick off-limits. I hop on it at night, I'm a menace"
Y/N had her back to the closed closet doors in her shared room with Matt. Her right hand was raised and supporting her phone horizontally, so that the front camera recorded from her collarbone upwards.
The room's lights were dimmed, and only the LED lights were lit in a reddish color.
The girl lipsynched the lyrics, smirking as she stared at her phone screen, her red lip gloss shining with the movements of her lips.
"Uh, uh, yeah, he gets to strokin; ooh, how I love when he chokin' me"
Her hand moved up and down almost imperceptibly, following the three opening moans of the last lyrics.
Matt's tattooed arm appeared in the frame, exactly at the height of her shoulders. His large hand encircled her neck perfectly, just like a necklace. His fingers pressed against her skin hard enough that it was apparent he was doing it.
Y/N opened her lips slightly, smirking before catching her bottom lip between her teeth. She threw a wink at the camera before the TikTok ended.
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4.
Y/N leaned her upper body forward slightly, positioning her phone on the computer desk in her shared room with Matt, clicking the red button on the TikTok recording screen.
She straightened her body, standing next to her boyfriend.
Matt had his arms crossed, his posture straight and his face with a slightly confused look. His blue eyes flicked from the camera to Y/N and back, waiting for her to do what she wanted, even if he didn't know what it was.
"If you want to get to him, you have to go through me first." Y/N spoke to the camera, raising her eyebrows in confrontation as she pointed at Matt with the thumb of her left hand.
The brunette pressed his lips into a thin line, holding back his laughter while frowning in confusion, his blue eyes focusing on his girlfriend's figure through the phone screen.
The girl turned towards him, approaching his body and standing on tiptoe. Matt quickly understood what she wanted to do, shaking his head in amusement before lowering it so that their faces were close.
Y/N sealed their lips in a simple kiss, pulling away seconds after and returning to her previous position.
"He's the best big brother ever." She added, crossing her arms and raising her chin with a snobbish look.
"Babe, what the fuck?" Matt's voice came out high-pitched, his eyes widening comically as he raised his arms in ecstasy, taking a few steps back, almost tripping over his own feet.
"Oh, yeah. She's our lost sister." The sound of Chris's voice sounded from the door, he having heard them as he passed through the hallway that led to their bedroom, heading towards the kitchen.
Y/N threw her head back, her mouth opening as loud laughter escaped from her throat.
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My asks are always open. My requests are closed at the moment since I have 50 to work in, but you can always send questions or simply talk to me 🩷💋
And remember to treat people with kindness always!
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daisynik7 · 4 months
Text
cw: established relationship, explicit sexual content, smut - cunnilingus
Author's Note: Barely proofread, completely horny. Enjoy. Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.
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When Nanami comes out of the bedroom for breakfast, he notices you’re already set up at your work desk, expression serious as you face the monitor. 
“You have a meeting right now?” he asks, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. 
You relax a bit from his loving smooch. “Yeah. I don’t even need to be in this. My boss just said to hop on and listen in. Said it’s a learning opportunity.” You make air quotations with your fingers at those last two words, rolling your eyes. 
He hums, massaging your shoulders, which are stiff and tense with stress. “I’m sorry.” His thumbs work out a knot; he always knows how to put you at ease at times like this. 
You lean back, tipping your chin up to catch his gaze, smiling. “Thank you, honey. I’m just…annoyed.” Glancing back at the screen, you sit up straight, muttering, “Oh no, it’s starting.” With a click of your mouse, you’re in. A few of the attendees are already chatting, so you keep yourself on mute, not bothering to greet them. 
Instead of heading into the kitchen for his morning cup of coffee, Nanami remains behind you, bowing down to whisper, “Do you want a distraction?” His mouth grazes your ear, his hands gliding up and down your arms. 
Although you’re on mute, you mouth a silent, “What?” to him.
His voice gets lower, sultry. “I’m hungry. And I’m craving my favorite treat right now.” He nuzzles his nose to yours, flashing that lazy smile of his you love so much. “I’ll be quick.” Too much. 
“Kento, are you serious?” The rational part of you knows this is crazy, especially while you’re actively attending a meeting. However, the horny part of you, which seems to supersede everything else, wants your husband’s distraction so badly. The temptation to do something you shouldn’t be doing is too alluring to resist. And besides, you’re virtually non-existent in the conversation happening in front of you. Might as well do something else productive.
He nods, pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss, just enough to tease a moan out of you. “Baby,” you whine. “We shouldn’t.”
And the two of you know what that really means.
Soon, he’s under the desk, sliding your pajamas bottoms off one leg at a time while you pretend to pay attention to whatever nonsense your coworkers are discussing. Your panties are already wet and Nanami takes his time peeling them off you, biting his lip at the way it glistens with your arousal. 
He wasn’t lying when he said he was hungry. In fact, he’s starving. He proves that with how voraciously he eats you out, your legs open wide for him to spread his tongue all over you. His grip is firm on your knees, keeping you split apart, licking and sucking on your clit, coaxing every drop of cum out of you. You can go the entire meeting with his face buried in your wet cunt, his drool mixing in with your slick. 
Suddenly, and to your absolute horror, your name gets called by your manager. “Any questions?”
You try to shove Nanami away, but he’s relentless, latching onto you tighter, sucking on your clit harder, louder. You squeeze his cheeks tightly with your thighs, practically smothering him, but it doesn’t do anything except make him hum, the vibrations only adding to the divine sensation. 
Before this long pause gets any more awkward, you swallow all the saliva pooling in your mouth and unmute yourself. “I’m good, thanks!” you blurt out, muting yourself once more as you let out a drawn-out moan, coming for the fifth time on your husband’s tongue.
The meeting is dismissed shortly after. You shut your laptop closed, scolding your husband, who’s now kissing the plush of your thighs, chin and nose shiny with your cum, a wickedly charming smile on his lips. “Thought you said you wouldn’t have to say anything,” he teases, trying to feign innocence. 
You run your fingers through his hair, tugging on the strands gently. “Thought you said you’d make it quick.”
He comes up from beneath the table, meeting your face with his. “You know nothing is ever quick with me, sweetheart.” Then, he kisses you, pulling you close to him, cock stiff against you, leading you into the bedroom.  
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gentlemancowboy · 16 days
Text
Sam brings it up one day when they’re sitting in the library, after Cas has just left the room.
“Why do you do that?” Sam asks.
Dean is still looking towards the hallway where Cas has just disappeared.
“Do what?” he says before turning back to his laptop.
“When Cas left the room,” Sam says, careful. “You watched him leave.”
“Hm, did I?” Dean mumbles. “Must’ve zoned out.”
“Dean.” Sam takes in a deep breath before continuing. “You always watch him leave.”
Dean feels all the blood rush to his face. He clears his throat and focuses all his energy at the screen in front of him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says.
Sam snorts. “Sure, Dean.”
Dean sighs, and turns to give Sam a look of indignation.
“What are you getting at here, Sammy?”
“Were you…” Sam takes a beat, looking back toward the hallway, before leaning across the table and continuing in a hushed voice. “Were you checking him out?”
“What? No!” Dean says a little too quickly, averting his eyes from Sam. "W-why would I—that's not even—I, uh…"
Sam sits back laughing. “Calm down, man. I wasn’t serious.”
Dean regains a bit of his composure, but his heart is still racing.
"I, uh… Right. Knew that.”
"Whatever you say," Sam says, still chuckling as he goes back to his reading.
Dean risks a glance towards the hallway before looking back over at Sam.
"Listen. Sam.”
Sam looks back up, eyebrow raised. Dean takes in a deep breath and continues.
“I’m not checking him out. I just—" and Dean isn’t sure he wants to admit it to Sam, that when Cas leaves, he's afraid he may never come back. That at night, when he’s restless and can’t sleep, he checks Cas's room to make sure he's still there. That he has nightmares of black goo emerging from the walls of the Bunker and pulling Cas back into the abyss of the Empty forever.
Dean feels the corner of his eyes start to sting. He blinks rapidly, shaking his head, and squints back at his laptop.
“Nevermind. Not important.”
He can still feel Sam’s eyes on him as he struggles to find the spot in the news article where he left off reading.
“I do it too,” Sam says. Dean’s head snaps up and his eyes go wide, but Sam shakes his head and quickly clarifies. “With Eileen, I mean.”
“Oh?” Dean raises his eyebrows. He’s about to rib Sam for confessing to checking out his own girlfriend, but stops himself when he sees the look on Sam’s face. Realization dawns on him. “Oh.”
“Yeah, you know. Just in case she…” Sam’s voice catches, and he looks down at his lap. “I just like to know where she's at, ya know?”
Dean reaches across the table and puts a comforting hand on Sam’s arm.
“Hey. Sammy,” Dean waits for Sam to look back up at him. “She’s not going anywhere. Okay?”
Sam gives a quick nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”
“Good,” Dean says, giving Sam’s arm a light squeeze before going back to his work.
“Hey, Dean?” Sam says after a moment of silence. Dean looks up at his brother.
“Cas isn’t going anywhere either.”
Dean looks from Sam to the library entrance just as Cas reappears from the hallway. He mumbles a quick, “forgot my phone,” grabbing it from the desk before heading back the way he came.
Dean’s breath hitches as he watches Cas go again, and this time, he doesn’t try to stop the tears from forming.
“Yeah,” Dean says softly, turning back to Sam and giving him a small smile. “Yeah, I know.”
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stairain · 8 months
Text
Desk Pet.
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Despite knowing the importance of work, Spencer still can't help but distract you in the worst way possible.
Warnings: Sub Spencer, meanish reader, slight pet play (use of nickname puppy), grinding, leg humping, cumming in pants, begging. // Sorry for disappearing! It will happen again!
WC: 3.0K
You were sitting at your desk in your bedroom, intently staring at your computer screen as you tried to file through your work. Your eyebrows furrowed in concentration and you were so deep in thought you didn’t even hear your boyfriend Spencer walk into the room. 
He had been working late, so it was just past midnight. His footsteps were silent as he walked past you towards the bed. But he saw you were engrossed in your work and was going to sneak past you without disturbing you, but a thought popped into his mind and he suddenly couldn’t resist.
Biting your lip, you look down at the papers on the table and start to write something down, oblivious to the way Spencer was sneakily padding over to you with a clear intention in mind. You didn't know what he had planned, but you knew you couldn't afford any distractions right now.
He came up behind you and stood at your left-hand side. Your attention was still focused on the papers in front of you, much to his dismay. He leaned in slowly and kissed the right side of your neck, moving any pieces of hair that got in his way. He then nuzzled his face against your neck, his breathing becoming quick and shallow.
A shudder ran up your spine and your heart almost stopped before you processed what was happening as he snapped you out of your work-induced trance. After the initial shock, your eyebrows knit further in annoyance. You had a lot of things to get done, and he sure wasn't helping, and you knew he knew that.
"Not now, Spence. I'm really really busy, do you think you can give me a few hours?"
You try to sound as sweet as possible, because you knew for a fact that he could not wait a few more hours. He was impatient and needy at the worst times, now being one of them. You tried to ignore the warm feeling of his lips pressing tiny kisses against your neck.
“How about now? I just want a little taste..”
His lust blown eyes sparkled with mischief as he looked at you, with a slight playful smile. His voice sounded low and husky and his eyes burned with arousal. His words had a slight edge of desperation to them and he seemed to have no intention of giving up any time soon.
Breaking your gaze from your work you look at him just long enough that those wide eyes of his almost win you over, but you're quick to get back to writing as you shake your head. The desperation was evident in his voice, but you really had so much to do. You just couldn't afford to stop and give him what he wanted.
"Baby, I told you. I'm really busy, be a good boy and be patient for me, please?"
Spencer had looked like a hurt puppy when you turned away from him, he couldn’t believe you didn’t give in after his first time asking. His face twisted into a sad frown as you wrote on your stupid papers. He sighed again and tried harder to get your attention.
“Just a few minutes, please? Do I really have to wait until later?”
He asked pitifully. The puppy dog eyes and little frown that looked so adorable on his face were working overtime to get you to give in and fuck him already.
With a soft chuckle you look at him and shake your head once more. It was always hard to say no to him, and you rarely did, which is why he always took it so hard.
It was always so endearing how desperate he got when he didn't get what he wanted. You really did want to give him what he wanted, but he was far too spoiled already. He had to learn his lesson sooner or later.
"Spence, baby. Go lay down or read a book until I'm finished, I promise after I'm finished we can do whatever you want, okay? You'll be okay waiting for a bit."
He was determined to make you give in by any means necessary. The slacks he neglected to change out of were growing tighter by the second, heavy cock straining against the already uncomfortable material. He was so hard and needy and he didn’t know what he’d do if you kept this up. 
Spencer leaned in closer to you, and his lips pressed against the side of your neck again. This time he sucked and swirled his wet tongue against it, creating a tingling feeling that spread throughout your body. He looked down at you with a pleading look, trying to make you give into his pleading and begging sooner rather than later.
“Please.. I-I can’t wait an entire night to be with you. I just can’t..” He whined, looking at you pitifully. His tone was almost like he was throwing a tantrum, and at this point he might as well have been.
"Well you're going to have to, if I don't get this finished I'm fucked."
You didn't even spare him the glance, already knowing he was giving you those pouty lips and sad puppy eyes. Maybe it was because you really did need to focus, or because you knew if you looked at him for longer than a second you wouldn't be able to.
His bottom lip curled downwards into a pout and he let out a sigh, before slowly leaning back away from you. He took a step back but his eyes remained glued on you. 
“Okay. Fine. I’ll be a good boy..” He whined again, and pouted.
The dejected tone in his voice sent a pang through your heart, and you couldn't help the way you bit your lip in thought at how to proceed this. You knew you had to work, but you also knew how much he loved being around you. Sighing, you speak your compromise.
"Come here."
You called out in a firm voice, waiting for his presence behind you again.
He seemed a little surprised by your rather blunt word choice, but he obeyed nonetheless and came back over to stand behind you. Plus your tone of voice when you called for him turned him on in an instant. You still had your attention on your work and he knew that, but he liked the small progress he was making. 
“What can I do for you, ma’am?”
He was still in a slightly dejected tone, but he had a glimmer of hope. He craved to hear and feel the passion and desire he knew you had inside of you, and he needed it now. 
"Get on the ground."
You offhandedly said, as if it were nothing more than a passing thought. With your rolling office chair, you pushed yourself back a bit so he had more space. Space to sit underneath your desk like a good pet while you finish your work. He was so desperate for your attention, he'd take anything you offered.
The moment he heard those words his heart dropped into his stomach. He was so desperate to be with you, that even being right at your feet was more than he could ever ask for. He loved when you told him what to do and when to do something. He absolutely adored being ordered around.
Spencer was quick to obey you as he fell to his knees and crawled under the desk, waiting for more orders. His eyes burned with lust as he stared up at you. 
Your eyes flickered down at him once he was settled between your legs, and you widened them the littlest bit more, just to tease him. Without another word, you began typing on your computer, seemingly ignoring him after telling him to kneel at your feet like a dog.
To put it simply, he was desperate to be noticed. He wanted your attention so bad he’d do anything for it. He wanted you to acknowledge him, give him the littlest glance and he’d be happy.
Yet, he still knew better than to bother you right now while you were working after already burning that bridge. So he just looked up at you as you typed away on your computer and waited for a sign from you. His eyes locked with yours that were glued to the screen and he looked at you with a gaze full of adoration and worship. 
But you hadn't even been granted five minutes of peace and quiet before you felt him scooting closer towards you. He seemed to take a liking to your right leg, gravitating towards it and not so subtly opening his own legs to slot your calf between them. You stop typing for a moment, but you don't give the satisfaction of sight.
"Spencer."
Voice low and scolding, you warn him with just the call of his name. You thought you had given him more than enough attention, especially after he had been such a brat and refused to leave you alone. He's lucky you even let him sit under your desk, and now he was taking advantage of it.
His eyes darted forward when he heard your low, scolding voice, as if he had been caught. He looked at you with eyes that were positively spilling faux innocence, like he was expecting to be let off the hook.
“Yes, Ma’am?”
Spencer asked quietly, tilting his head to one side. His expression looked hopeful, like he was expecting more. A part of him was hoping to be rewarded for his behavior. He knew that wasn’t the case, though. You never rewarded misbehavior.
"Watch it."
You warned him once again. The tone in your voice was nothing short of intimidating and serious, and yet it did nothing but turn him on even more. You could feel his arousal throbbing against your ankle as he cozied himself up against your leg. You tried to ignore the weight and heat of his shaft pressing on you, but you were just a woman. 
He rested his chin on your knee, eyes wide and sparkling. His eyebrows furrowed and he looked a little confused as he tried to figure out what he had done wrong so as to deserve your warning. You told him to get on the ground, you never told him he couldn’t use your leg to get himself off. He had no idea he was taking advantage of your kindness, and yet had no problem doing it.
“Watch what?”
The brunet asked innocently. He kept his eyes glued to yours, waiting to see what you were going to do, as if challenging you. The longer he looked up at you, the hornier he got. Taking a deep inhale through your nose and rolling your eyes, you snap at him. 
"I've told you countless times, I need to get my work done. I can't give you what you want."
You reminded him once again, eyes darting everywhere on the desk and yet not one glance underneath it. You had hardly registered the way his hips were slowly rolling down against your leg and how his plush pink lips parted with a soft moan. He was grinding against you like a bitch in heat, barely listening to a word you said at this point. 
He let out a whimper as he pushed the pulsing head of his dick against you without a care in the world. Those wide, adorable brown eyes of his looked so desperate as he continued to look up and try his best as to not be caught by you. You couldn't see it, but you felt his arms hook around your leg for more leverage to hump against you pathetically. 
“I know, I know. I just–can’t wait. It has to be you..” 
Your breath hitched as your breath got caught in your throat. Something about those words he just whimpered out, they were winning you over. You purse your lips with a sigh and look down at the pathetic puppy at your feet. The movements of his hips and crotch had slowed down, but you could tell he was just itching to start again. The way his eyebrows were slightly upturned in the temptation of bliss, and the soft puffs of a whimper leaving his mouth. It was too much, and you were worn weak.
"You have five minutes, if you don't get off by then, you leave this room. Understood?"
Spencer smiled widely when he heard what you agreed to, and he crawled forward more to hug your leg closer to his chest. Pressing his forehead against your knee, he made small, soft whimpering noises as he got to work. 
“Yes, Ma’am. I understand. Five minutes.” 
He recited back to you as coherently as he could, already lost in the feeling of your unmoving ankle colliding so deliciously with his leaking cock. He was staining the insides of his boxers with sticky warm precum, and the wetness made his head spin and his breath shallow.
Turning your attention back to the work at hand and not the bitch at your feet, you shake your head and try your hardest to ignore the way he was practically humping your leg at this point. He was trying his hardest to keep quiet, but it obviously wasn't working. If Spencer was anything, it was vocal when he felt his best. You could feel every stutter of his hips and the way the rest of his body shook when he pressed his arousal harder against the bone of your calf. You'd be lying if you told yourself this wasn't turning you on beyond belief, ignoring him as he used you for his own pleasure.
He pushed himself against your leg some more, but he didn’t push it too far for now. You knew he was about to burst, but he tried so hard to hold it in to enjoy it. He was breathing more heavily as instinctively kissed your knee. His sounds of need became louder with every hump.
“Oh, fuck.” 
He shuddered out, his voice still low and sultry and nothing short of needy. His whole body quivered with the amount of effort he was using to hold on. Not only would it be humiliating to have finished not even thirty seconds after you granted him permission to get himself off, but it would be an utter waste of time. 
As the seconds ticked by and approached his time limit, the push and pull of his lower body was almost maddening. He was rubbing himself so hard against you through his pants, and you secretly hoped he'd be able to finish in five minutes, considering how badly you wanted to see him make a mess without even having to touch him, let alone pay attention to him.
Spencer looked up at you, and he still had four minutes to go before his time was up. He was already out of control, and it was getting harder and harder to hold himself back.
He kept rubbing himself on you and making those low, desperate sounds. He was going to explode soon, and although unlikely, he hoped that you would stop working when those five minutes were up. He hoped you would finally pay attention to him. He was so needy and desperate. He wanted you now. 
While he was having the time of his life grinding against you, it just wasn’t what he really needed. He needed to be buried inside of you, pushing as deep as he possibly can as your cunt sucked him in even further. He needed to have you gushing around him as his elbows gave out on him as he tried his hardest to keep fucking you through his third orgasm. 
But he wasn’t going to get that, not tonight. 
Deciding to try and be nicer to your poor boy, you move one hand away from your work and card it through his soft curls. Running your nails against his scalp, back and forth, as if to imitate the cant of his hips. It almost served as a silent praise, 'what a good job you're doing' you could have said, but you had a demeanor to keep up and a report to write up.
He couldn’t help the pathetic groan that was punched out of him at your touch. You always knew where he loved being touched the most, and you knew it never felt as good when he did it himself. 
“Oh, fuck–please.”
The words left his mouth in a hiss as he pushed himself more against you. His jaw shook and his sounds grew in intensity as his body froze and he squeezed your leg impossibly tighter. It wasn't a moment later that you felt his entire body go rigid against you and his breath caught in his throat in what sounded like a choked sob.
The tightness of Spencer’s pants did nothing to mask his shame as he exploded into the poor stained fabric. His eyes instantly found your face and almost forced you to look right back at him as he finished. His mouth was quivering as pathetic whimpers and moans punched their way out of his throat. Thick spurts of warm cum made their way into his boxers. He had positively soaked the front of his pants, with a minute left to spare.
The moment he finished, he fell flat against you and his hand reached out and grabbed your thigh, clinging onto you like he was dying and you were his lifeline. His head was pressed firmly against your leg and he was still shaking and breathing heavily from his release.
His face was burning red from the strain he just went through. He felt as though he shot out his soul in the process of drenching himself. He had a stupid grin on his face as he looked up at you with pleading eyes.
“Can I stay now?” He asked in a desperate tone, with those same damned puppy dog eyes.
Rolling your eyes, you smile down at him and suck on your teeth. He always knew how to push your buttons and get what he wanted, every single time.
“Fine. But keep those hands to yourself.”
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dinogoofymutated · 1 month
Note
I absolutely adore how you write Kurt,
Could you write something for Kurt being concerned for an overworked reader?
And or a reader that struggles with sleep?
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SFW!Nightcrawler/GN! Reader The amount of comfort that this man gives me UGH! He's just so caring and sweet, but I worry about him :( He's been the therapist friend in basically every episode in 97' and he deserves some comfort too so I added basically the reverse version of these headcannons at the end as well! Sorry I didn't end up writing anything for sleep, I've written a fic with some sleep struggle themes here but I might end up writing some seperate headcannons for that later! TWs: Themes of burnout/exhaustion. Mentions of the Genosha attack and Remy's death/funeral, religious themes. As always, reader written while picturing Fem! But no pronouns mentioned. I'm doing my best with adding German dialect while Kurt speaks but I'm not super knowledgeable, so let me know if there's something I need to change!
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Kurt makes it his absolute mission to make sure you're always taken care of. Food, emotional support, laundry, dishes, Hell, he'd give you the sun and stars if you needed them. He just cares about you so much, and he never wants you to feel like you're alone in this world.
This being said, when he feels that you're overworking yourself, he's not afraid to let you know.
When he first starts to notice it, He'll check in on you more often. He'll pull you into a hug and give you kisses and he'll only leave when you reassure him that you're perfectly fine.
If you're still overworking yourself after this, he will outright tell you that he loves you, but you need a break. You can't go on like this and he's concerned about you. He doesn't purposely give you the sad puppy eyes, but seriously, how could you think about saying no to that face?
He really likes to brush his hands through your hair when he's trying to help you relax. He'll move your head into his lap on the couch and hum you softly to sleep. He might take you to bed, but he won't wake you up unless he absolutely has to. He won't go as far as to turn off your alarms, but he just wants you to rest.
However, if you know you're overworking yourself but still refuse to let yourself stop, or take a break, he's going to be a little more "aggressive".
    Your computer screen is giving you a migraine, you feel like you want to tear your brain out of your head, and plainly? You just can’t sit still. You had been in this spot for about six hours straight. The last time you actually got up was to eat dinner, and even then you had only relaxed for what, thirty minutes? You can’t really remember.
    You sigh deeply, leaning back in your chair as you massage your temples. Working for the budding country of Genosha was certainly not for the weak. You needed to have this paperwork finished and faxed before the end of the week so that talks of Genosha entering the U.N. could continue. It was such a hefty amount, but it was necessary. Everyone else had done their part, and all you had to do was make corrections, edit, and make sure everything was in top shape. You’d been working on it for about three days straight, and with the finish line in sight, you didn’t want to stop now. 
    Oh, but your head hurts so bad, and you feel like you're starving. You look from your computer to your copy machine and the huge stack of mostly finished paperwork on your desk. You just want it to be over with, you decide it’s best if you just push through.
    “You haven’t moved from that spot since lunch,” You hear Kurt state. He comes around the side of your chair to brush some stray locks away from your forehead, and you do your best to give him a smile, although it’s obvious the expression is pained.
    “I didn’t hear you come in.” Your voice comes out a little gravelly from being silent most of the day. Kurt’s hands begin to gather your hair and caress the back of your neck lovingly. His hands feel good, grounding. You close your eyes to appreciate the feeling and miss the sight of Kurt’s frown.
    “Let’s get you to bed, Liebchen. I can tell your head hurts.” Kurt’s tone is gentle, although displeased, and it makes you feel guilty when you shake your head and pull away, leaning forward as you restack the paperwork on your desk.
    “I can’t. I’m almost done with this whole U.N. thing and the sooner it’s over, the better.” You mumble stubbornly. Kurt shakes his head at you, pulling your rolling chair away from the desk before you can get your hands on something else. You don’t even have the energy to express your shock as Kurt takes the papers out of your hands, using the table to straighten them before placing them in their proper place. He tuts at you as he does so, and continues to save your files and power down the computer despite your protests.
    “My apologies, love, but I won’t let you rot in this room for another moment. I understand how important this work is to you. Giving Genosia a voice that the world can hear is a very noble cause, and yet it is still a cause that can wait till tomorrow, Ja?” You open your mouth to attempt to protest again, but your head hurts so bad, and you are so tired. Kurt takes your hands to help you out of your chair, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he pulls you into a gentle hug.
    “Okay. But-” You don’t finish your sentence before Kurt is tucking your face into his shoulder, sparing you the view as he Bamfs you away. When he lets you go, you’re standing in your bedroom. You’re thankful that he spared you the sights, knowing that it would have just made your head worse- but it didn’t change the fact that you hadn’t been remotely done in the office.
    “-I still need to lock up, Kurt.” You start to say, but he’s gone in a puff of smoke before you can even finish the sentence. When he makes it back a few minutes later, Kurt sends you a cheeky smile, lifting his tail to show you the keys he must’ve snagged from your pocket earlier. 
    “Did you-”
    “Lock the file cabinet? Yes. And I turned off your lamp, and closed the curtains before I locked the door.” Kurt kisses your temple as he sits you down on the bed, beginning to take your shoes off. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you taken care of.” You feel like your heart might explode with the overwhelming fondness you’re feeling right now. When he’s done with your shoes, he carefully helps you undress and change into pajamas, something he knows you struggled with when you were as exhausted as you are now. He makes sure to tuck you into bed before he himself goes to change. It doesn’t matter how much pain you felt at this point, when he crawled into bed you couldn’t stop yourself from curling up close to him, pressing tired kisses to whatever part of him you could reach. Kurt simply chuckles, pulling you into an embrace as he whispers sweet encouragements for you to sleep.
    “Kurt?”
    “Yes, Meine Liebe?”
    “ ‘Think you could Marry me?”
Now just because Kurt will do everything in his power to keep you from reaching the point of burnout, doesn't mean that he himself will stop from reaching that point.
Kurt is a genuinely good person, right to the core. He likes helping people, he likes to care for others, but he doesn't always ask for help when he needs it. It's not that he doesn't have emotional intelligence for his own feelings, he just tends to soothe himself by assisting others. Even then, to an extent, that's not healthy coping. There is only so much someone can carry alone.
After the attack on Genosha, there was a lot of work that had to be done- and Kurt, being a familiar and dependable face in the many religious communities, was needed constantly in a tumultuous time when many turned to religion.
It's been a struggle for the two of you, much of your time together being cut short in one way or another, and the longer you spent away, the more worried you became.
It all came to a head after Remy's funeral.
    Remy’s funeral was… Rough. To say the least. No one was coping very well, especially not Jubilee. You had walked out to the cars with the group after the last of the dirt had been laid, making sure to give her a tight hug. The X-men were the only real family she had ever had, and now she had lost a brother. You had let her sob for a moment, listening to her cries and the sounds of doors, opening and closing. 
    When everyone had loaded up and was ready to head out, you noticed that Kurt wasn’t there. You told everyone that you would catch up. You had a feeling you knew where he would be.
    You find Kurt in an empty church. He’d shed his outermost robes at some point, and was sitting silently on a pew. His eyes are closed and his hands folded, praying. You don’t disturb him as you sit down, simply reaching a hand out and placing it on his knee, squeezing it to let him know you were there. When he finishes, he places his hand over your own, opening his eyes as he looks down. His tears are flowing freely, and he leans into your touch when you wipe them from his cheeks.
    “I’ve been told that there is strength in a man that freely mourns, but… It’s silly. I can’t help but wish that I was stronger.” Kurt’s almost whispering as he speaks. You feel a lump form in your throat, your stinging eyes welling with tears for the countless time today. It hurts so unbelievably to see someone you love hurting so much, knowing that there is so little that you can do to make the pain go away, even if the loss is shared.
    “It’s not silly. I think that a lot of people feel the same- especially right now.” You say. You take hold of his left hand, tracing the cool metal band on his finger. You compare it to the one you wear, and find yourself thankful that the hand that bears his is still warm. You think of Rogue and Remy. The life they could’ve had together, if only they had been given more time. 
    You lean your head on Kurt’s shoulder, and he rests his head on top of your own. 
    “You don’t have to carry it alone.” You whisper eventually. Kurt says nothing, lacing his fingers between yours. “I know we haven't had a lot of time together lately, but as long as I’ve known you, you’ve carried so much on your shoulders- but you don’t have to do it alone. That’s what I’m here for, remember?” Kurt laughs lightly at your words, squeezing your left hand before lifting it to his lips and kissing your knuckles.
    “You are a gift that I’m not entirely sure I deserve, my love,” Kurt says. You scoff at him, frowning now as you look up to meet his eyes.
    “Lying is a sin, Kurt.” You say playfully. His smile is blinding, and you gasp as Kurt Wagner of all people rolls his eyes at you. 
    “Even if it was a lie, which it isn’t, as long as I have you near, Schatz, Heaven will be in reach.”
519 notes · View notes
buckyalpine · 2 months
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18+ smutty drabble with some angst and all the fluff and possessive, fwb to lovers college Bucky, I wanted to try something, images are mine, Canva pulled through with the layout. Maybe I'll write something again with this picture, (mob Bucky? DBF Bucky?) but here's an idea:
-
"You up?"
You smirked at the text message that popped up, already swinging your legs out of bed because you knew exactly what was to follow-
"Come over"
You didn't bother changing out of the hoodie you were already lounging in, pulling on some shorts and throwing on Bucky's leather jacket before heading out. You pulled the jacket tighter around your body as you walked 2 blocks to his place, fiddling with the spare key he'd given you just because.
"Hey Steve, hey Sam" You gave Bucky's roommates/ bestfriends a wave as you let yourself in, padding past the living room, headed right to his room.
"Hey peanut" The blonde smiled before throwing a knowing smirk to Sam as soon as they heard the door click shut.
"$20 they keep this up for another month"
"Deal"
-
"Hey Buck-
"How come you didn't tell me you'd already left," Bucky set his laptop off to the side, his tight black tshirt riding up giving you a pretty view of his happy trail as he leaned over, closing the screen shut.
"You knew I was going to come-" You started with an eyeroll but Bucky wasn't having it, shaking his head while you looked at the knickknacks sitting on his desk.
"And I've told you to at least let me know when you leave, especially at night"
"When did you care so much" You snorted, gasping when he came up from behind you, turning you around and grasping your jaw in his hand, squeezing your cheeks, making you meet his eyes.
"You don't walk out alone at night. I would have called you an uber"
"It's two blocks-
"I don't care. So who were you all dressed up for earlier today" Bucky cocked at eyebrow, releasing the soft grip he had on your jaw, moving them to rest around your waist instead.
"I wasn't dressed up, it was a regular outfit"
"Please, that tiny black skirt with those stockings" His grip tightened, digging around your hips, "Saw you come by the field when we had practice, were you trying to show me something doll" He smirked, noting you were currently still in his leather jacket.
"I thought it looked cute, don't flatter yourself Barnes-
"That's Steve's sweater" Bucky cut you off narrowing his eyes, tugging the hem of the hoodie. You hadn't even noticed, giggling when you realized you had indeed somehow accidently ended up with Steve's sweater.
"I just wear whatever's comfy, must've gotten mixed up in your laundry last time I was here" You shrugged, tossing off his jacket onto the chair by the desk. "If it helps, it was your hoodie I intended to steal"
"You're not wearing his sweater" It was a statement, something other than lust clouding his thoughts, itching to rip the sweater off your body and keep you wrapped up in nothing else but him.
"Seriously? Why does it matter, I thought this was just casual anyway-
"Mine" Bucky growled, pulling the hoodie off your body and making a point of tossing it out of the room before locking it shut again. "You're mine"
"Bucky-
"Always teasing me with those fuckin' skirts" Bucky grabbed you, hauling you over his shoulder and tossing you over the bed before crawling on top of you and pinning you under him. You hadn't been wearing anything under the hoodie, gasping when Bucky tugged at your nipples, smirking as they pebbled at his touch. "Do you not see how other guys look at you when you wear that baby"
"Bucky please" You sounded needier than usual, caught off guard by his surge of possessiveness, different from his usual protective nature over you. He attacked your neck with kisses, sucking bruises onto them between soft bites, letting his tongue swipe over the area after.
"Tell me, lookit you laying in my bed as soon as I call, soo needy all just for me, huh?" His hands came to lace with yours, pressing his erection between your legs, grinding against your clothed core.
"Jamie, do something" You pouted, squeaking when he came down to nip your lips, getting off you just to throw your shorts and panties off, wasting no time ridding himself of his clothes. He slotted himself back between your legs, letting his thick length rest between your soaked cunt.
"Patience pretty bunny, you have no idea what you do to me, do you. Not sharing you with anyone, you're mine"
"I'm yours?" You whined feeling his cockhead swipe through your folds, gathering your slick, a flash of vulnerability passing between you as his eyes bore into yours.
"Always, babydoll" Bucky whispered with his lips brushing against your as he started to push in, the both of you gasping at the feeling of the initial stretch. It didn't matter how many times he'd already had you like this, the feeling was forever unmatched. He didn't bother with giving you a moment to adjust, setting a brutal pace as soon as he was fully sheathed inside you. He made of a point of making you scream as loud as possible, well aware his best friends were still home, working his hips faster at the thought of you in Steve's sweater.
"You're. All. Mine" Bucky slammed his cock into you with each word, hoping to write his name in cum all over the inside of your tight cunt. "Say it, tell me you're mine, c'mon baby"
"M'y-yours" You stuttered out, "I'm yours Bucky!!"
"That's right, gonna make you scream that all night"
-
And he kept his word. Bucky kept you impaled on his cock until he couldn't hold it any longer, spilling ropes of his load into you, one after the other. He would watch it drip out before getting hard again from the sight along, pushing his dick back into you to make sure not a drop was wasted.
You panted, withering under him as he pulled one more orgasm out of you before letting his bodyweight drop, his now disheveled locks and flushed cheeks resting against your bare chest.
"I meant it you know" He murmured, pressing a kiss between your breasts before looking up at you, "It's more than just physical for me"
"Are you sure?" You giggled as he leaned up to nudge his nose against yours with a shy smile he reserved just for you..
"Very sure. I love you" Bucky mumbled against you hair, pulling the sheets up to cover you both, his arms wrapped tightly around you body to his chest.
"I love you too"
"I also meant it when I said you can't wear his sweaters"
"Bucky-
"Mine"
-
"I want my $20"
966 notes · View notes
yxngbxkkie · 7 months
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meet-cute (b.c)
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so, the clip from the intro: recording where chan first gets to the studio is so attractive to me for some reason 🫢 then i had the idea to write a fic on it, and 3.3k words later... we have this! i do hope you like it 🩷
feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰
You knock on the door to the studio, waiting for your younger brother to open it. You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, looking around the empty hallway as you wait.
“Changbin?” You call out his name, knocking softly once again.
The door opens up instantly after, a light smile gracing your lips. “Noona, what are you doing here?” He asks you, opening the door further so you can walk inside.
“I can't come see my successful baby brother?” You ask him with a scoff, crossing your arms over your chest.
He blushes at your compliment before playfully punching your arm. “Don't do that in front of the staff. You know I get shy,” Changbin groans, puffing his chest out to look tough.
“Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Seo,” you laugh, plopping yourself down on the leather couch. Your brother giggles as well before sitting back in the office chair.
You pull your phone out of your pocket, resting your elbow against the arm of the couch. You scroll through one of your social media apps as he finishes up with Seungmin.
Changbin turns in his chair to look at you after he's finished with the vocalist. “You still haven't told me why you're here,” he mentions, and you lift your head up. “Not that I don't want you here.”
“I got stood up last night,” you tell him with a deep sigh, feeling yourself becoming upset.
“Are you serious?! Who in their right mind would stand you up?” Changbin clicks his tongue with a shake of his head.
You shrug your shoulders, a fake laugh coming from you. “Apparently a lot of people would,” you shuffle in your seat, tucking a leg under the other.
Changbin scoots his chair closer to you and places a hand on your knee. “I'm sorry, Y/N. You don't deserve that,” he frowns, squeezing your knee in reassurance.
“It's okay. Maybe it's the universe telling me that I'm not ready to date,” you mention, leaning back against the cushion.
Before your brother has the chance to say anything, the door to the studio opens. You turn your head, finding the eyes of a man wearing a black mask.
His dark eyes meet yours, and you quickly divert your gaze. He places a water bottle on the coffee table, looking between you and Changbin. “Who's this?” He asks, jabbing his thumb in your direction.
Your heart races at the sound of his voice, low-key, hoping he'll take his mask off. You tap your fingers against your leg, watching the taller member sit in another office chair.
“This is my noona, Y/N,” Changbin introduces you. You find the mysterious man's gaze again before providing a tiny wave of your hand. “Noona, this is Chan.”
“Ah! You're the infamous Chan oppa I'm always hearing about,” you chuckle before holding your hand out to him. “It's nice to meet you.”
Chan bows his head and shakes your hand. You can feel the tingles of his touch spreading through your fingers. “Nice to meet you too,” he says, pulling his hand back.
Changbin moves back towards the desk, pressing the red button to talk to Seungmin inside the booth. “Mr. Australia is here,” he tells him before moving to sit beside you.
You notice Chan giving you a hesitant look, knowing that he's politely trying to get you to leave. You smile at him before landing a slap on Changbin's thigh, gaining his attention.
“I'm going to head out, alright? Leave you guys to work your magic,” you chuckle while standing up, stretching lightly.
“You don't have to leave!” He mentions and tries to convince Chan with his eyes. “Right? She's my sister.”
A sigh comes from Chan, and he turns to face the computer screens. “No, no, it's okay. Just give me a call whenever you're done, Binnie,” you reassure him that you'll be fine.
He nods his head and brings you into a hug, tightly squeezing you. A groan leaves your lips as your little brother almost crushes the life out of you.
“I'll talk to you later,” you smile at Changbin, ruffling his hair.
You walk out of the studio quietly, not wanting to interrupt Chan working with Seungmin. You look through the small window before walking away, admiring Chan from the back.
You bite your lip and start walking towards the elevators, hoping you'll see him again soon.
~
You can feel the excitement coursing through your veins as you walk down the hall of your brother's apartment building. It's been a couple of weeks since you stopped by their recording session. A couple of days ago, Changbin texted you asking if you wanted to have dinner with him and his members, which you couldn't pass up.
Before you're able to knock on the door, it opens up. Your breath hitches in your throat when you come face to face with the man you've been wanting to see again.
“Hi,” you breathe out, looking into Chan's brown eyes. “I'm sorry for intruding.”
He shakes his head and smiles at you. “No, it's okay! Come in. Changbin is in the living room,” Chan reassures you, stepping to the side to allow you inside.
You feel a little relieved, thankful that he's less intimidating in a non-work setting. You thank him and step inside, slipping your shoes off. Chan shuts the door behind you, slipping past you while dragging his fingers across your lower back.
Your cheek warmth at the touch of his hand before walking towards where Changbin is sitting. His eyes meet yours, a smile coming to his lips.
“Finally, you're here,” your brother teases while getting up from his spot.
A groan leaves your lips, and you playfully punch his arm. Changbin cries out and rubs the spot you hit. “Oh, come on! That didn't hurt,” you laugh as the other members fill the room.
Changbin smirks before quickly putting you in a headlock. You scream, gripping the member’s forearm. “Noona, I may be your little brother, but I'm stronger,” he laughs after releasing you.
You giggle and shake your head. You've missed hanging out with him. Chan walks back into the living room after helping Minho with dinner. Your eyes follow his figure through the room, not believing how breathtaking he is.
When Chan disappears down the hallway, you snap yourself back to reality. You quickly glance at the other members, hoping that no one caught you blatantly staring.
Changbin nudges your arm, making you look at him. You notice the smirk on his face, and you release an embarrassed chuckle. He leans in to whisper into your ear. “You got a thing for our leader, noona?”
You scoff, playing it off. “No, no, of course not,” you tell him, crossing your arms over your chest.
Just before Changbin can say anything else, Chan walks back through the living room. His eyes find yours as he's heading into the kitchen, smiling kindly.
“You're such a liar,” your little brother laughs, shoving you lightly.
“I am not!” You counter, moving to sit on one of the couches.
You sit down beside Felix, mumbling a quick greeting to him. He smiles back at you and ruffles your hair a bit.
“How come I'm older, but you guys are treating me like I'm younger,” you complain, fixing your hair with a laugh.
Changbin pats your shoulders as he walks past you. “Because you're young at heart, noona!” He says truthfully, standing in the doorway of the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink?”
You nod your head, and Changbin disappears into the kitchen to grab something. You bring your attention to the other five members, all of them scrolling through their phones.
“You guys are a lively bunch,” you chuckle, looking at each member for a few seconds.
Seungmin laughs and locks his phone. “You didn't know?” He jokes with you, combing a hand through his hair.
“Changbin must've failed to mention it,” you giggle while adjusting your position on the couch.
You're too busy joking with Seungmin to notice Chan walk towards you with a glass of water in his hands. “Here, Y/N,” he mentions loud enough for you to hear.
You snap your head up, and you meet Chan's gaze. Your brain malfunctions just a smidge before moving quickly to grab the full glass. A gasp slips out as you get water all over yourself.
“Shit,” you mumble, and Chan grabs the glass from your hand. Your heart hammers in your chest as you feel all of their eyes on you. “I-I, excuse me.”
You rush out of the living room and towards the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. Thrusting your head back, you release a groan at the pain in the back of your head.
“So embarrassing,” you tell yourself while shaking your head.
You look into the mirror, seeing the large wet spot in your shirt. You can probably convince Changbin to give you a new shirt. You move to open the bathroom door, jumping a bit as Chan stands on the other side.
Your eyes widen, both of you seeming frozen in place. “Chan, I'm so sorry about spilling the water,” you apologize after a few seconds of silence.
“It's okay, Y/N, really,” he giggles before handing you the article of clothing. “I brought this for you. I can throw your shirt in the dryer.”
“Thank you,” you whisper and take the black hoodie from his hands. Your heart jumps in your chest when his fingers brush against yours.
He smiles and nods, leaving you to change. You slowly close the bathroom door again, bringing the hoodie to your face. Your eyes flutter shut while inhaling the smell of it.
You kick your feet a bit and change out of your shirt. You throw the hoodie over your head, smiling at the warmth of it. You shove your hands into the pocket before walking out of the bathroom.
Chan meets you at the end of the hall, taking your shirt from you. You thank him again as his eyes roam down your figure. You feel yourself becoming shy under his gaze.
“Y/N! I made you a plate,” Changbin calls out to you, walking up to you and Chan.
“Thanks, Changbinnie,” you tell him, tearing your gaze away from the older member.
Chan disappears again, tossing your shirt into the dryer for you. Changbin realizes you're wearing one of Chan's hoodies as both of you head towards the kitchen.
“Nice hoodie,” he wiggles his eyebrows, giggles leaving his lips.
“I am going to punch you so hard,” you laugh, shaking your head.
Changbin rubs your back as he leads you to the table. You sit down in the chair before digging into the meal Minho cooked. “Thank you for the meal, Min,” you tell him just before stuffing your face, humming in delight at the taste.
~
You balance the takeout boxes in your hands as you walk towards the studio your brother's in. Changbin sent you the track they've been working on, feeling really proud of it. So, being the amazing sister you are, you decided to buy them lunch.
After reaching the studio they're in, you knock on the door quickly. “One minute,” a voice from inside calls out.
The door opens up, and Chan stands in front of you. Your breath hitches in your throat at the outfit he's sporting. You've only seen the man wear black, so seeing him in light wash jeans makes you feel something.
“Hi, Y/N,” he chuckles, opening the door wider to let you in.
You clear your throat and greet him with a smile. “Is Changbin here? I bought lunch for you guys in congratulations on the banger you made,” you chuckle, setting the takeout onto the coffee table.
“Ah, I'm currently the only one here. Changbin's not coming until almost three-thirty,” he says while checking his watch.
Your cheeks blush at the two hour gap, wondering if you'll be intruding. “I see,” you giggle embarrassingly. “I can leave you some food and come back later. I don't want to be a bother.”
Chan shakes his head while holding his hands out. “No, you're fine! You can stay here, I don't mind,” he mentions with a warm grin.
“Are you sure?” You ask him, watching the member grab some of the food you brought.
“Of course. Sit, please,” he motions to the couch.
You nod, sitting down on the couch. You watch Chan as he sits in the spot beside you, handing you a pair of chopsticks. You take the wooden utensils from him as he hands you an assortment of sushi.
“I love sushi,” he comments before eating one of the rolls. You giggle and agree with him, shoving one past your lips. Both of you hum in delight, more giggles escaping at the sight of Chan waving his hands excitedly.
“You're so cute,” you whisper, shaking your head. You eat another piece of sushi, releasing another groan of delight. “God, these are delicious.”
Chan looks at you with wide eyes, hearing you call him cute. “You think I'm cute?” He asks you in a quiet voice, his chopsticks paused over the row of sushi.
You almost choke on your food, placing a hand on your chest. Chan sets the chopsticks down and gently pats your back. “S-Sorry, your question caught me off guard,” you chuckle nervously. His hand continues to rub your back, and you release a sigh.
You turn in your seat, facing the handsome leader. You place your chopsticks on a napkin, giving him your full attention. Your heart starts to pound against your chest, looking down at your lap.
“I think you're so fucking cute,” you confess to him, fiddling with your fingers.
“Really?” He breathes out, leaning back on the couch.
Your cheeks blush, his dark eyes burning a hole in the side of your head. “Y-Yeah, I mean, have you looked at yourself?” You ask him in disbelief.
Chan wipes his hands on his jeans and clears his throat. “To me, I don't believe I'm that good-looking.”
“That's criminal!” You exclaim, moving your body forward to rest your hands on his thighs. The older member blushes at your touch, his eyes dancing between your face and hands. “I think you're so fucking handsome, Chan.”
His ears burn with shyness, a soft smile gracing his lips. “Well, I think you're absolutely beautiful,” Chan whispers to you, returning the compliment. Silence fills the space between you, both of you feeling really shy. “Hey, do you wanna see what I'm like in the booth?”
“Oh? I get a front row showing to Mr. Bang Chan's recording session?” You ask with a laugh, feeling honored that he'll show you.
“One time offer,” Chan smirks, standing up from his spot.
You look up at him and grin ear to ear. “I'll take you up on it,” you tell him before motioning towards the sound booth.
He giggles and nods his head, holding out a hand for you to grab. You can't stop yourself from giggling as you place your hand in his. Chan helps you up and leads you towards the box with the red button.
“Sit here,” he says while rolling the computer chair to you. You sit in the chair and watch as he gets things ready to set up.
“You do this with all the pretty ladies?” You ask him as he clicks away on the computer.
Chan scoffs and brings his gaze to you, a smirk coming to his lips. “Are you kidding? Changbin hasn't told you that I have no social life?” He laughs and looks back at the screen, pulling up the song he wants to record.
You giggle, gently biting your lip. “He mentioned you worked a lot. None of the women you work with suits you?” You joke with him, scooting closer to watch what he's doing.
“No, no. They're all older than me and married. Plus, after meeting you… I don't want to look at other women,” he flirts with you, causing your cheeks to burn.
“Wow, the rizz is there,” you tell him, gripping the edge of the office chair.
He giggles some more and brings one of your hands to the mouse. “Okay, so you'll press this red button to talk to me. And, when I give you a thumbs up, I need you to click play,” he explains the gist of it, looking at you to make sure you understand.
Chan gives you two thumbs up after you confirm your understanding. He pets your hair before making his way into the recording booth. You watch him place the headphones on before you press the button.
“Can you hear me?” You ask, leaning forward a smidge like it's a microphone.
He chuckles and nods his head, looking at you through the window. “I can. You don't need to lean forward like that,” Chan tells you with a large smile.
“Oh, oops,” you chuckle and look through the window. “I'm ready when you are, Channie.”
His heart flutters at the nickname, and he raises his hand to give you a thumbs up. You glance back at the computer and press the play button. He starts singing, and you swear that you begin to melt.
“Woah,” you whisper to yourself, loving the way he sounds. Chan raises his thumb again, and you pause the track before pressing the red button. “I knew you had a good singing voice, but wow.”
He hides his face into his hands, almost squealing. You smile fondly at him as he takes the headphones off. You release the button when Chan walks out of the booth.
“You really think so?”
You stand up from your chair while nodding your head in response. You pick the lint from the shirt he's wearing. “I do, I really do,” you mumble loud enough for him to hear, looking up at him through your lashes.
His eyes meet yours, and the two of you subconsciously drift closer. Chan's nose brushes yours, making your eyes slowly shut. He brings one hand to your cheek, stroking the supple skin gently.
A pant escapes your lips as his face gets closer and closer. “Is it okay if I kiss you?” Chan asks politely, pulling back a smidge to look into your eyes.
“Y-Yes, please,” you almost whimper, gripping his t-shirt.
Chan smiles and leans back in, connecting your lips with his. Your hands move to the base of his neck, your fingers playing with his hair. You kiss him back with the same amount of passion as he tilts his head to the side.
“Chan hyung, have you heard from Y/N?” Changbin asks while stepping into the studio. His eyes widen as he catches the two of you making out. “Never mind.”
You pull back from Chan, pushing him a little bit so he's not too close. “Bin!” You almost shout, growing nervous as your younger brother is practically frozen.
“Do not hurt her,” Changbin tells his leader, crossing his buff arms over his chest.
“I would never,” Chan reassures him, moving away from you to pat the younger member's arm. “She brought food. Help yourself.”
Changbin's eyes light up as he follows Chan's finger, which is pointing at the takeout. “Noona, thank you! You're allowed to date Chan,” he states before rushing over to the couch.
Both you and Chan laugh at his statement, causing you to shake your head. Chan hooks a finger beneath your jaw, bringing you back in for another kiss.
“Yah, yah,” Changbin groans, covering his eyes. “Just because I'm okay with it doesn't mean you can do that in front of me.”
You rub your hands on Chan's pecs, landing one last smooch. “I'll let you guys work. I'll call you later?” You mention to Chan, standing on your toes.
“I'll call you,” he whispers with a lovesick smile.
~
tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n
825 notes · View notes
bits-and-babs · 8 months
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✦ 𝐁𝐔𝐙𝐙 𝐁𝐔𝐙𝐙 ✦
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– KINKTOBER DAY 3: PHONE SEX
johnny mactavish x reader | smut, 18+ | 1.3k words
summary: on leave, johnny can't resist pestering you while you're at work. or perhaps he just can't resist you...
cw: f!reader, sexting, dirty talk, voyeurism(?), begging, masturbation (m & f), orgasm denial, inferred voyeurism. this one made me blush.
⇽ KINKTOBER MLIST | DAY 4: APHRODISIACS ⇾
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❝You look so good right now. I can’t actually see you, but I assume you look good because you always do.❞
A grin splits across your lips as you read the text that lights up your phone screen. It lays next to your keyboard on your desk, the lock screen a photo of you and Johnny on holiday in Spain. The sky brings out the blue in Johnny’s eyes– or what you can see of them. They’re almost crinkled shut as he laughs at you, having pushed the icecream you’d both been sharing into your face, creamy white gelato smeared across your nose. 
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Peering over your desktop screen, you make sure no one in the office is looking as you pick your phone up. Donna has her eyes firmly on an excel spreadsheet that looks far more like an ancient language than it does data she can make sense of, and Peter has left his desk to make what you could only assume was his signature, watered down cups of tea that made you gag when you tried them. Before he could come back and catch you red handed, you tap your password into the phone, unlocking it to respond to the cheeky text message. 
It was odd to get a message like this now. Texts like these were usually reserved for when Johnny was on deployment, off in some God forsaken sandy wasteland where bullets would fly past his head and threaten to steal him from you. Instead, he was on leave, no doubt sitting on the sofa with his PS4 controller in hand, yelling commands to his makeshift squadron. You’d be home in a few hours – an office job wasn’t quite as long and treacherous as a place on the special forces. 
“Can’t last 7.5 hours without me? x” 
You smile to yourself as you hit send, turning your attention back to the work on your desktop before noticing how quickly the ‘ … ‘ speech bubble appears above the keyboard in your chat. It takes barely a couple of seconds before Soap replies. 
Bzz. 
“Go in the bathroom and take a picture of you touching your pretty pussy. Please? xoxo” 
It’s ridiculous, the way such a simple text sets your body alight. The warmth prickles in your stomach, settles between your thighs as you try to reason with yourself. Lunch was two hours away, and you had no doubt that Johnny would keep pestering you until you finally gave in to his pleadi–
Bzz. 
“Please? xoxoxoxox”
Chuckling to yourself, you lock your computer and stand from your desk. As casually as you can manage given you were soaking your panties, you inform Donna that you need a bathroom break. Making a note to pat yourself on the back for working so hard and earning her trust, you grin and offer a quiet thank you when she nods her head in dismissal. 
As you try to hurry to the bathroom without catching anyone’s attention, you can feel your phone buzzing in your hand. 
Bzz. 
Bzz. 
Bzz, bzz, bzz. 
Biting back a stupid grin, you ignore his pining text messages entirely and head straight for the call button, pressing your phone to your ear as you enter the single stall bathroom and lock the door behind you. 
It takes two trills of the phone before Johnny answers. You’re surprised– you expected him to hit the answer button halfway through the first. 
The first thing you hear is the sound of skin on skin, wet, sloppy sounds of Johnny working his cock in his hand as he groans your name down the receiver. 
“Fuuckkk. Yer a dirty girl, bonnie. Leavin’ yer desk to touc–” 
“Shut the fuck up, Johnny,” you breathe, malice lacking in your voice as you quickly pull the hem of your skirt up to your hips, leaning against the wall and burying your hand underneath the waistband of your panties. 
“But– Fuck– I wanna taste you,” Johnny continues pining for you, making your clit throb as you roll it beneath your fingertips with an airy sigh. Johnny sounds far more unhinged on the end of the phone, crackly audio punctuated with heavy, needy gasps of bliss and the slick sound of him fucking into his hand over and over.
“You sound so needy, Johnny,” you coo quietly, pinching your clit and feeling the warmth of your arousal trickle through your nerves when you hear Soap groan desperately. 
“Jesus– Yer bein’ so fuckin’ mean t’me,” he complains weakly, the sound of his thrusts getting louder and quicker over his slurred protests. “Feels so fuckin’ good, Bonnie. Wanna feel you ‘round me.”
Slowly burying your fingers inside your slick cunt, you whimper softly as you grind your clit into the heel of your palm. It’s not enough. Nothing is enough after having Johnny. His months away on deployment are torture, no technique or toys enough to bring the same bliss he consistently pulled from you each and every time you fell into bed together. Or the sofa, or the shower, or the kitchen counterto–
“Need you t’come home, Bonnie. Need you t’come home and sit on my face. Cannae wait all day for ye to come back home,” the timbre in Johnny’s voice is hoarse. It burns something sinful deep down in your gut, pleasure arcing with another circle of your clit. 
“What if I just left you there?” You muse quietly, careful not to be too loud incase anyone was passing by, “What if I clocked off after work and went for dinner with that guy on the payments team… What’s his name, Darren?” 
You’re grinning halfway through your teasing comment, hearing Johnny spluttering in complaint. 
“Bonnie–”
“Or… You could behave. Could wait for me to come home without interr-upting my work,” you hiccup, dangerously close to cumming when you felt the beginning of your orgasm zing up the base of your spine. You arch your hips away from your palm despite your clit’s throb of complaint, squeezing your eyes shut and bracing your voice to sound steady. “And when I come home, I’ll ride you while you play your game. You can be on mic, and Gaz and your friend’ll hear you struggle to keep it together. Hear how fucking wet I sound when you put your dick in me.” 
“Steamin’ fuckin’ Jesus–” Johnny wheezed, the sound of him fucking his hand hastening at your filthy offer. “Hah–”
“You can’t cum, though,” you urge him quickly, grinning at the sound of his desperate wail when the sounds suddenly stopped altogether. It was replaced by the sound of Johnny’s heaving breaths, quiet moans of complaint. You could imagine him now, sprawled out across the sofa, grey sweats around his ankles. He’d have his face buried in the crook of an elbow, cock flushed like his cheeks while bobbing up and down in protest and drooling precum onto his stomach. 
“Stay right there, just like that,” you breathe, excitement bubbling in your chest at the sound of his struggle, “Text Gaz and tell him to be online at 17:30.”
“Fuck,” Johnny slurs, and the sound sparks something so visceral in you that it threatens to spark an orgasm all on its own. “S’fuckin’ torture.” 
“I know, baby. I’ll make it worth it,” you promise him, ending the call before the sound of his keens made you cum. 
An hour or two later, sitting at your desk and vaguely focusing on the spreadsheets of information that were all beginning to blur together, your phone buzzes with another text. This time, a picture is attached. 
“Still here.” 
Johnny’s laying on the sofa, lips raw from gnawing on them in what you could only assume was an attempt to restrain himself. His cock is rock hard, bright red and angry with its neglect as it drools a wet pool of precum across his abs and down his shaft, exactly as you’d predicted. 
You’ve never been so excited for clocking off. 
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cod mwii/kinktober taglist:
@mortallyuniquepeach @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @crybaby-blue-blog @heart-atttack @pansa-1-san @maviee @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @s-u-t @ghostslynx @solidly-indulgent @glitterypirateduck @gummyfang @bii-aan-ckaa @konigsblog @crissteetee @crissteetee67 @sylvanasthebansheequeen @akaym2 @exploremyworldsm @thriving-n-jiving @su57 @cabreezer0117 @cathnoneofyourbusiness @marygraceee @thatchickwiththecamera @legend-o-zelda @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @tusk89 @bellasbees01 @dog55teeth
@mockerycrow @bubuslutty @cheezitwh0re @haunt3dh3art @levi-llama @thebiscuitsheep @maelstrom007 @alexxavicry @bug-sy-boy @glennrheesworld @kittenfrostt @luvfromkat @blingblong55 @whore4dilfs @wolfyland07 @doggydale @dog55teeth @cabreezer0117 @cathnoneofyourbusiness @marygraceee @thatchickwiththecamera @legend-o-zelda @whore-for-anime @i-love-ghost @cyberpr1m3 @mockerycrow @bubuslutty @lundenloves @cheezitwh0re @haunt3dh3art @babychoi03 @infectedkura @allekat1988 @whore-for-anime @soupbinsoup @passi0np1t @mockerycrow @cyberpr1m3 @i-love-ghost @allekat1988 @infectedkura @babychoi03 @freakquenci @maviee @yunggoblin @sleepystaarr @watyousayin @soupbinsoup @passi0np1t @damn-dean-blog @pheonyxmoon @magicalreviewphantom @limegreenbabx @johfaam0 @iaur @justsayk
@bloodmoon-bites @wiltedwonderland @doggydale @limegreenbabx @namelesshumanperson @ninahhh-brahh
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pennylanewrites · 4 months
Text
teacher’s aide (levi ackerman)
warnings: m!masturbation, voyerism, alcohol, smoking, age gap (15 years), me pushing my smitten!levi agenda
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levi ackerman was an esteemed and recognised sociology professor. stern, strict and to the point in all of his lectures. most of his classes kept quiet, trying to take notes while he talked fast and went through powerpoint slides like it was the morning paper.
you had been working hard for that teacher’s aide position for two years, when you finally got the acceptance email. it was no secret on campus that professor ackerman’s assistants worked closely to him and got accepted in prestigious firms right after college, with his recommendation of course.
it was also no secret that professor ackerman was incredibly good-looking. his veiny arms and broad shoulders made up for his short height and the way his raven hair fell over his rectangular seeing glasses was so…
“y/n.” his stern voice shook you out of your thoughts. crap. the whole auditorium was staring at you. “the papers.” was all he said before going back to his laptop. you looked down at your hands, realising you were holding the class’s tests for more than you should. you cleared your throat and went through the auditorium, leaving a stack of papers in front of each student. as you walked down, your eye caught his.
levi noticed everything. he noticed how today you were wearing lipgloss instead of your usual lipstick, he noticed the rip in your tights that went down the back of your leg, your new platform loafers and the beads of sweat on your forehead. levi ackerman was not the kind of man that would catch feelings for a student, but you were so…good.
yes, at first he thought you were very attractive, and maybe that’s why he always rejected your aide application. but he also got to know you better every time you replied to one of his questions. you were the only student brave enough to raise their hand, and he appreciated that. sooner than later, you stayed back every day after class to clean up the mess of loose papers and pens, and before he knew it he was smitten.
maybe it was the way you brushed against him to clean the board and shut the projector, a timid apology escaping your lips, or the way you weren’t afraid to challenge him in a theoretical conversation about archaic philosophy during class.
or maybe…shit, how long have i been staring? levi looked away and cleared his throat when he noticed you trying to contain your smile.
class was over and you were going through your usual routine, marking left over questionnaires from the last lecture as he went through tomorrow’s one.
“sir, i’m wondering about…” you rolled your chair across the auditorium’s stage, holding onto his desk to stop the chair, “this one.” you pointed at a question on the paper.
levi was not one to lose his temper, but he was finding it very hard to contain himself when your knee was touching his and your perfume could reach his brain through his nose.
“well, this-this one…” he trailed off, watched you push your hair off your neck, leaving the bare skin on sight for him. god, he could eat you right then and there.
levi had never been more thankful for his phone to ring in his life. the vice dean’s name flashed on the screen, and you leaned back to allow him to get the device.
“i have to go…meeting…come by my office tonight, okay?” he scrambled to get his things and ran off, leaving you in the empty auditorium.
you let your head fall on your pillow, groaning with despair. he hates me. he can’t even talk to me.
you had seen him earlier with petra, his old t.a who graduated last year. he was laughing, for fuck’s sake. he was laughing and buying her coffee in the campus coffee house, and they were sitting over a book and…
“ugh! what is she even doing here?” you threw your pillow on the floor, but it hit you back in the face.
“oh my god, shut up!” your roommate kept hitting you with the pillow, until you grabbed it. “enough, y/n, please.”
“mikasa, do you think they’re dating?” you sat up on the bed, looking at the girl across you. “be honest, i can take it.”
“i think you’re sick. there’s something seriously wrong with you.” she scrunched her nose up in disgust.
“he’s so…”
“old.”
“mature.”
“he’s mature because he’s old.” your roommate kindly reminded you of your age difference. “get over him, please. even if he liked you, he’s your teacher. i doubt he would put his job in danger.”
your eyes lit up, an excited smile covering your earlier gloom.
“you think he likes me?”
“that’s not what i said. where are you going?”
you only grinned before grabbing your bag and barging out of the dorm room. your shoes squeezed against the polished floors as you made your way to the teachers’ wing, and to the third door to your left, your favourite wooden door in the world.
with a sigh, you lifted your fist to knock, but something made you freeze. you looked around to make sure no one was in the corridor, before pushing your ear against the door.
shit, shit, shit, shit
he was moaning. fucking moaning, in his office, when he had specifically told you to visit him. you thought of the possibility of him having a girl in there, even petra, but no one else could be heard. everything right in your head was telling you to turn around and leave, but your hand was on the doorknob, and you were slowly twisting it.
just one look. one look and i’ll-
your eyes grew wide at the sight. a half empty bottle of bourbon sat next to an empty glass, a cigarette was slowly burning on the ashtray, the first two buttons of his white shirt were undone. god, you could clearly see his nipples through the fabric. the desk obscured your vision, but you could see his hand moving up and down, up and down, up-
“fu-fuuuck.” his voice strained, his head fell back and you were wet a creep.
you turned around and leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath. looking at your reflection on your phone, you made sure pervert wasn’t written across your forehead, and turned back around.
two soft knocks on the door. levi fixed his hair quickly, buttoned his shirt and put the cigarette out.
“come in.” you entered the room and he looked at you like a deer caught in the headlights.
“long day?” you pointed at the bottle, smiling softly. he chuckled and motioned for you to sit down. “i can come back some other…” you trailed off when he took another glass out, filling it halfway and pushing it towards you.
you fidgeted with a ring on your finger, unsure of what to do.
“i shouldn’t…”
“i won’t tell if you won’t.” he filled his own glass and raised it to you, before taking a sip. you smiled softly, taking a sip of the drink. it burned coming down, just like his gray stare on you did.
“i have the tests marked. that question i was wondering about earlier,” you took the stack of papers out of your bag, leaving them in front of the man.
“yeah, i looked it up. it’s actually-”
“i figured it out.” you cut him off. he raised an eyebrow and put his glasses on, looking down at the marked paper, and the right answer which you had wrote down in red ink.
“you did.” he agreed and looked at you through strands of his raven hair. “good girl.”
you froze. you could feel your whole face turning an ugly shade of red. a million disgusting thoughts ran through your head as he walked around the desk to sit on the chair across from yours. his muscles flexed as he reached over the desk to get the ashtray and his drink. you took a big sip of the drink, trying to convince yourself the sexual tension was just in your head.
fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck.
“what?” he shook you out of your thoughts. he knew you were staring at him.
“nothing. i’ve never seen you like this.” you admitted, still sipping your drink.
“like what?”
like you don’t have a stick up your ass.
“relaxed.” you opted for the nice comment.
“i’m far from relaxed, trust me.” you watched as he placed a cigarette between his wet lips, lighting it with a white lighter.
“those are bad luck.” you took the lighter in your hand, fidgeting with it.
“huh. maybe that’s why my life’s shit.” he chuckled, taking a drag of the cigarette.
“come on…” your eyes fell on a book on his desk.
masculine domination, pierre bourdieu. you grinned, taking it in your hands to inspect the front page.
“take it. it’s for my doctorate students, but i think you-”
“i’ve read it.” you closed it and put it back on the pile.
“of course you have. you’re a smart girl, you know?”
he was praising you. and he was filling your glass again. when did you even finish the first?
“are you trying to get me drunk, sir?”
“i think you’re capable of controlling yourself.”
“don’t be so sure.” you mumbled, staring at your feet.
“what was that?”
“nothing!” you shook it off with a smile, but he had heard you just fine.
god, you wanted him so bad. as the hours went by, and the bottle came to its’ end, you became more and more impatient. you were scared of what you would do honestly, if one more drop of alcohol entered your system. but, were you crazy to think he wanted this too? why would he pour you a drink, and ask you all these questions, and make you laugh with stupid jokes if he-
“what are you thinking about?” he shook you out of your thoughts. you showed him the clock on the wall.
“that i should get going. some teacher thought it would be a good idea to have an 8 am class.” you grinned. you reached your hand out to return him his lighter, but you dropped it instead.
“that’s one lousy teacher.” he chuckled, kneeling on the floor to get the lighter. you waited for him to get up, so you could too, but he wouldn’t move. still kneeling, he came closer to you, his hands hesitantly moving to rest on the sides of your thighs.
internally, you were screaming. but not a single breath came out of your mouth as you watched him. he sighed and finally locked eyes with you.
“i’m not crazy, am i?”
“wh-what?” your voice came out as a whisper. pathetic.
“to think there’s something, right? here. there’s something here and i-”
“sir-”
“don’t.” he squeezed your thighs and you swore your heart would jump out your chest sooner or later. he straightened his back and got up, pulling you with him. “don’t call me sir.”
you let him seat you on top of his desk, you let him spread your legs and stand between them. he pushed your hair behind your ear and inched closer. his breath against your neck made you shiver, and a soft kiss forced a small gasp out of your mouth.
your hands trembled as you placed them around his neck, and his breath staggered when you played with the strands of hair that fell on his undercut.
“please kiss me.” he swore his knees would give when he heard your voice, so soft, so sweet. you were as needy for him as he was for you.
his strong hands met your face, his silver ring cooled your burning cheek. you closed your eyes, and his lips finally met yours. it was careful at first, both of you scared the other would change their mind. but all it took was you pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt, and he lost his mind. his hands slipped down to your waist and you arched your back to get closer to him, if that was even possible. your mouth trailed to his jaw, leaving sloppy kisses all the way down his neck. a playful bite made him gasp. you chuckled.
“stop. you’ll drive me crazy.” he squeezed your hip.
“good.” you grinned and leaned in to kiss him again, but his hand in your hair held you back.
“you have to go…” he managed between soft kisses down your chest, at least as far as your shirt allowed, “or i won’t be able to stop.” he held your hands, and kissed them both, maintaining eye contact with you.
“then don’t stop.” you whined, but your grin turned into a frown when he pulled you off the desk and fixed your skirt. “levi-”
“save something for later, right?”
his promise of a later was enough. you left him to clean up and walked out the door with a sheepish smile and a whispered goodnight.
your phone buzzed on your way back to the dorms, and you stopped in your tracks when you saw the name on the screen.
professor ackerman: wear that green dress tomorrow.
you raised an eyebrow.
just the dress.
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matchascara · 11 months
Text
CAMBOY SCARAMOUCHE
- IN WHICH: you find out the snarky purple haired boy in your class isn't as much as of a nobody as you thought he was.
contents: NSFW!! slight bdsm, mentions/use of sex toys
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₊✮⸜ ༘⋆
he was the loner in class that spoke to nobody. headphones always on, blasting music that others who sat next to to him said to be j-rock. his aura was silent, cold and mysterious. the only quirk he showed to the public was his doodling habit in class. nobody really knew anything about him, besides his name.
scaramouche.
no matter how many times the blonde haired girl would invite him to parties, or hangouts, he'd never show. she'd pester him endlessly during lectures, only to be met with either complete silence followed by an eyeroll, or, if she's lucky, a scuff and a "stop bothering me." sometimes he'd switch it up and say, "go find something better to do with your free time."
yoimiya was defeated, and you never really quite knew how to help her. "try again tommorow." youd reassure, but, tommorows success was never gaurenteed
so with this, you couldn't believe your eyes when this same quite, snarky, and anti social boy has no problem lewdly showing off his body to thousands of people online--
as a camboy.
and a very popular one at that. always receiving the most gifts, subs, and views each live, he easily kept his place in the top 10 of the main screen leaderboard. his gap moe is what drew you in. his online persona was sexy, and alluring, yet he managed to keep his mysterious aura from his real life personality.
so you became a regular at this site, secretly watching him every other night at 11:30. you watched as he would undress himself on stream, slowly letting his lanky, pale fingers teasingly run along his ab lines until he reached down to rub his cock that throbbed through his jeans, "50 more gifts and i'll stroke it for you. 100 and i'll moan your name. please hurry, i really want to come to you guys." he teased, biting his lip in anticipation.
you don't know why you did it. but you did. with a small fright of hesitation you sent 100 gifts under a lesser known name of yours, your middle name.
with the sound alert going off, it gave scara the ok to lean back in his chair, open his legs and to start unzipping his jeans. "good girl (m/n)" he slurred.
"but i have a surprise for you all today." he pulled out a cum stopper from his desk and bit his lower lip in pain as he inserted it into himself. but his attempts to conceal was in vain and a faint gasp followed by a soft "fuck-" managed to escape his lips.
"you have to tell me when to cum. i'm under your control tonight."
you continued to watch as he then stroked his cock up and down, starting off slow before speeding up the pace as he leaned back with one arm over his eyes moaning and humming your name. "f-fuck, it feels so good. you feel s-so good. i can't-"
and when his soft moans turned into sensual whins, begging for you to let him cum, you wanted to do more than just watch.
you followed scara in his movements, taking off your shorts to play with your aching clit as you listened to him cry your name, he wanted so desperately to come, but you weren't going to let that happen. not yet.
you watched his mouth hang open out of pleasure as he continued to beg for you to let him cum. "please. please, let me- let me cum for you."
"keep it quiet." you sent with 50 gifts.
he bit his lip to seal off any more words, using his free hand to lean over and grip his desk, causing his shoulders to tense up.
you hated how you enjoyed it. how you enjoyed watching your classmate who's usually so silent, and reserved suddenly become a vocal, moaning mess as he pleaded with you to let him cum. and he has no idea it's you. he has no idea you'd see him tommorow sitting by himself in the back corner.
he had no idea you knew his dirty little secret. but part of you wish he did, because you so wanted the fingers that would pleasure you to be his own. just thinking about it made you release your final breath of moans as you finished on your white bedsheets. you sighed. the fun was over.
"cum for me."
scara finally leaned back on his chair upon hearing the noise alert, removing the cum stopper from his cock that throbbed in his hand. he let out a melodic moan, almost a scream as he finally came. it shot up upon his chest, which would drip down onto his lower stomach
he took deep breaths as he did nothing but bury his face in his hands, letting the thousands of viewers watch the breathless, whining mess you made of him. gifts were being spammed, subs were being increased and the live chat had nothing but praise.
he was definitely way more popular than you initially thought.
"next week i'll have a special guest with me." he finally managed to spur.
exiting the stream, you closed the laptop shut. the words "special guest" lingered in your head as you cleaned yourself up to get ready to bed.
but that night was a sleepless one, as all you wanted was to hear scara's whins taint your ears just once more.
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m00nh1gh · 5 months
Text
OLDER
Bsf's dad!Bang Chan x reader
You knew you had a thing for older men but you didn't expect to be in this situation.
Contains: Unprotected car sex, masturbation (f), fingering, there's an age gap, but the reader is legal AND they didn't know each other when she was a minor, just a little heads up.
Word count: 3.1k.
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Sleepovers at your best friend's house were always the best. You'd watch plenty of movies (or videos on YouTube) and cook together when her dad wasn't home. You had done all of that tonight and even had a photoshoot for new profile pictures and posts for Instagram. You really went all out for it, too.
Though, there was always one thing that bothered you at those sleepovers and it was the sleep part. Yuna snored a lot and it lead to insomnia for you. You'd usually be okay with it, because you never failed to bring your headphones, but this time, you had let them at your house. 
You grunted for the fifth time in a whole minute before letting go of the pillow you'd been using against your ears to try and muffle the sounds, but to no avail. You decided it could be good to take a little walk in her house. You guys were alone anyway, so it wouldn't bother anyone. 
You slowly opened the door of her bedroom, walked out and made sure to close it behind you. You looked around to make sure her dad wasn't here and went to the kitchen silently.
You poured yourself some water in the glass you used tonight and took a big sip of it. You could finally relax once you were away from Yuna. You didn't even know exactly why snoring irritated you so much. It made you feel bad to complain about it so much, but you just had to.
"Y/n? It's late, why aren't you sleeping?"
You jumped and put a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from yelping. You had never heard him coming in the house, even less walking in the room and leaning against the doorframe. He didn't look annoyed or bored. He was, in fact, smiling at you with a raised brow. It made you blush - as usual - and you looked down.
"Sorry, I couldn't sleep. I just came here to get some water.
- You know it's alright, you should still get some rest though," he placed his coat on the kitchen island as he walked to the fridge, which was right beside you.
His sleeves were rolled up and you couldn't help but to take a look at his arms and hands as he took a plate Yuna and you had prepared for him earlier. He placed it in the microwave for one minute and thirty seconds and then he looked back at you.
"She's snoring again, right?
- Yeah."
He laughed and suddenly, your heart started beating faster. This wasn't right. You shouldn't feel like this around him. He's your best friend's dad, for God's sake!
"I'll be awake for a while more, wanna come to my office? I could use some company. 
- Oh, but I don't want to bother you…
- You won't. I really would appreciate your company. But if you wanna go back to sleep, then it's good too!" His dimples are so hot. His office outfit is so hot. You felt hot.
"No, I'm not going to sleep," you smiled at him before following his lead to his office that was on the second floor. It was the first time you steeped into it and it somehow felt intimate; Yuna had always told you her dad did not let anyone in there while he was gone and now he invited you to sit on the small couch that was settled next to a bookshelf.
"Don't tell Yuna about this, she'll start coming here without my permission," the man sighed as he sat on his chair behind his desk. He turned his computer on and looked back at you while it loaded. "You can do whatever you want, I have books there and other stuff… Just don't touch what's on my desk, not that I think you would anyway," he gave you a wink and a smile as he laid back on his chair, turning his attention back to the screen.
Some time passed since your last interaction with Christopher. You had picked a book from his shelf, but quite honestly, it was just to make yourself look busy. You surely couldn't concentrate on it when you could see him shift on his seat and hear him sigh from time to time, clicking his tongue and grunting. You didn't know what he was working on, but it surely made him frustrated.
You looked at the cover of the book since you didn't even know which one you had picked. That's how uninterested you were about it, but maybe that you should start being, because Christopher's noises made you think some stuff that you shouldn't think about.
"100 Cocktail Recipes; Spice your Drinks Up!"  What the fuck?
"Is everything alright?" You opted on asking, coming to the conclusion that you wouldn't read anything tonight.
"Yeah, yeah. Just work stuff, you know?" He looked rather enthusiastic about you finally talking to him. You guessed he needed a little break from work.
"Yeah, I know," you looked around the room, suddenly feeling really awkward and regretting having talked to him.
"I guess I could take a small break," he sighed and leaned back on his chair, his hands behind his head as he looked back at his screen. "Wanna go on a little drive?
- I'd actually like that, yes," you smiled and you both got up to walk out of the office. 
"Wait just a bit, I'm gonna go change into something else," you nodded and he came back a few minutes later with a t-shirt and simple jeans. The shirt was tight. You didn't even know how it didn't tear because the man is muscular. You shook your head a little to let go of your thoughts and followed Christopher to the entry door.
Once your shoes were on, he let you get out first and he locked the door behind him.
"Let's hope Yuna doesn't wake up," he chuckled and unlocked his car. You smiled and mentally prayed that she wouldn't notice you were out too, walking to the car and getting in the passenger seat as Christopher sat at the driver's seat.
"So, where are we going?
- Anywhere, it's up to you.
- I know a pretty spot somewhere. Let's get snacks and then go there. Yeah?
- Sounds good," you smiled at him and he returned it, starting the engine and driving to a small convenience store Yuna and you went to often. It was the only one that was open the whole night, so when you ever craved something late, you walked there and took whatever you needed. You even became friends with the cashier.
"Hey, Y/n!" Jeongin waved at you and nodded at Christopher. You walked to him as Christopher picked some snacks in the store.
"Is that your dad?
- No, that's Yuna's dad," you looked behind to make sure he wasn't near you and you leaned forward. "He's fucking hot."
Jeongin laughed and shook his head.
"Do you even know how old he is? Not that he looks 60, but that's still her dad.
- He's like in his half 40's, it's alright.
- What are you guys talking about?"
You jumped as Christopher put food and drinks on the counter. Jeongin stayed silent as he scanned the items and you cleared your throat.
"Are you two dating?
- What? No, no!" Jeongin finally spoke.
"That's Yuna's boyfriend," you added, side eyeing Jeongin whose cheeks reddened significantly.
"Am not.
- Not yet," you teased and Christopher laughed.
"I'll be looking forward to our first family dinner with you, then," he paid for the stuff and took the plastic bag after Jeongin put the receipt in it. You said your goodbyes and walked out with a smile still sitting on your face, thinking back to Jeongin's shyness at the mention of your best friend.
"They'd look cute together," Christopher said as you both got back in the car.
"I know, right? But they're both so oblivious that it hurts me sometimes.
- Give them time and eventually, they'll confess."
It was a ten minute drive until Christopher parked his car in an empty parking lot, which was right in front of a small river. There were benches along it and lampposts beside each one of them. It was a pretty spot indeed, but you wished you'd brought a jacket with you if you were to get out of the car.
"We can stay in the car if you want, you're not wearing something adequate to the weather," he remarked and you agreed.
He took out two bottles of water and handed one to you. You opened it and immediately took a sip. You hadn't noticed how thirsty you were, and the water felt refreshing in your throat.
"And what about you? Do you have a boyfriend?
- No, guys at school aren't for me.
- Ah, I see," it was silent for a little moment until you heard him unbuckle his seat so he could turn to you the way he wanted to. "What about older guys? You know, you're old enough to have a little age gap in relationships now."
You played with the cap of your bottle nervously, your heart pounded hard in your chest and you could hear it. "Yeah, I like older men.
- Men, huh?" He smirked and turned your head towards him with a hand placed on your cheek. "Have you tried talking to them?"
You shook your head and hardly swallowed, suddenly needing another sip of water. But, you couldn't move. Christopher looked too beautiful in the dark of the night, with only a small amount of light that hit the side of his face. His lips looked extra kissable and they were still a little wet due to his drink and you felt yourself getting needy.
"No, I haven't.
- Then talk to me," he leaned close to your ear, you could feel his hot breath on your neck and you closed your eyes, "Am I old enough for you?
- Yeah," you whispered, and you swore you could hear his smirk. He looked back at you, and it was hard for you not to look away. He was way too intimidating for you to hold eye contact.
"I knew you'd be a good girl for me," he kissed you shortly once, and then the second one was deep. His lips- God, his lips felt so good against yours. They were so soft and fit perfectly with yours, driving you insane and you undid your seatbelt to get closer to him. Christopher groaned lowly as his tongue entered your mouth, and his hand found its way to your thigh, slowly hiking up your shorts. Well, as much as he could.
You shivered at his touch and softly bit on his lower lip, making a moan escape from his lips and that was it: now you were wet for sure and he broke away from the kiss, looking at you with lustful eyes.
"Tell me what you want," he said, his voice deeper than usual.
"I just want you," you admitted, placing a hand on his chest. It trailed down to the end of his shirt. 
"Then I'll show you how much I want you too," he reclined his seat a little and gestured for you to come sit on his lap. You obeyed and immediately felt him through his pants. He was already half hard for sure.
"So fucking beautiful," he took a strand of your hair between his fingers, then putting his hand at the back of your head to pull you closer so he could kiss you. He slid his hand down your waist, making its way under your shorts. His other hand cupped one of your boobs through your tank top. You whimpered and put your hands around his biceps, feeling his muscles flexing under them.
His lips were so rough against yours that it added an edge of excitement to the moment. You were completely lost in this touch, his hand was back out of your shorts and was settled on your hip. His other one was sliding down your sides, feeling your curves.
"You're going to drive me insane," you hummed against his lips and rolled your hips a little, making him groan and pull you away from the kiss. "Touch yourself, baby," he commanded, moving one hand to grab your ass and squeezing it.
"What?" You asked with a small voice, unsure of what he meant by this.
"I want to see you touching yourself," he clarified, his voice as rough as his touch. A hand under your top now, he found your nipple and teasingly brushed against it. You reacted to it, pulling yourself closer to him, and you nodded, spreading your thighs a little. You slid a hand under your shorts and panties, reaching your clit immediately.
His hand finally pinched your nipple and it earned him a moan from you. "That's it, baby," he breathed. "You look so fucking hot."
You hummed again, rubbing small circles on your clit as you absorbed everything he told you.
"So obedient. You like being my good girl? Like touching yourself for me?
- Yeah," you moaned as your hips bucked up, looking down at him.
"Tell me more," he demanded. He wanted you to beg for him, to show him just how much power he held over you.
"I like being your good girl, only yours," you said, pulling the fabric of your panties and shorts to the side so he could have a glimpse at what was going on under your clothes.
"You're such a tease," he teasingly traced a finger along your wet folds. "Look at how wet you are for me."
You whimpered and stopped touching yourself for him to take over. Your hands went back to his biceps. 
"Do you like being teased?" He asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He continued teasing your pussy, ignoring how you tried getting away due to how sensitive you had gotten.
"No," you closed your thighs around his hand. 
"Yes, you do," he said, leaning in to kiss you like a hungry man. His free hand squeezed your breasts, pinching your hardened nipple as he started rubbing on your clit. You moaned against his lips, spreading your thighs for him to touch you better as you tugged at the sleeves of his shirt.
With a low chuckle, he pushed your panties to the side more and slid a finger into your sloppy hole, immediately finding your g spot. "Want me to make you cum?" He assumed you were already ready for a second finger, so he slid another one inside you.
"Yes, please. Please," you breathed out, getting used to his fingers inside you. 
"That's it," he slowly pumped his fingers in and out of you. "Feels good?" He asked, placing hot kisses over your neck as he continued with the right amount of pressure and speed.
"Good," you agreed, lifting his shirt up a little so you could have a look at his toned abs, finally touching the skin. That made him groan again, his fingers digging deeper into you as you touched every inch of his chest. Once your hand reached lower, his hips grinded against it slightly, and you didn't waste another second before unzipping his pants and cupping his dick through his boxers.
He moaned, his hips grinding a little more against your palm. "You're so hot,"
You moaned when his finger brushed against a certain spot inside you and it made you squeeze his cock a little. He lifted himself up a little so you could slide his pants and boxers down a little. Christopher's breath hitched a little and his eyes locked with yours, filled with lust and anticipation. "Fuck."
"Want you inside me, Chris. Please?" You asked, pumping his dick slowly to spread his precum all over his shaft.
"Alright, baby," he hissed a little at your touch. "If that's what you want. But I can't guarantee I'll be gentle," he warned, guiding himself to your entrance once your hand had left him. You nodded and pushed yourself down on his dick a little so his tip was already inside you. You moaned and put a hand on the back of the seat for support as you sunk down painfully slowly.
Christopher lost some of his patience and grabbed your hips harshly, thrusting into you sharply without warning. You gasped and threw your head back, feeling the stretch of his dick clearly. It hurt for sure, but you didn't say anything. He knew to give you some time to get used to him. He brought you closer and started kissing your neck. "Told you I can't be gentle," he mumbled as he softly nibbled at your skin.
"Can move," you said, rolling your hips against him. He moaned and guided you, giving a small slap at your ass as you rode him. It was your first time, but by Christopher's moans, you guessed you did good, and you found the hem of his shirt to tug at it. 
He got the hint and quickly got it off, throwing it at the back of the car, completely forgetting about it and giving his complete attention to you. Your hands quickly found their way to his upper chest, pawing at the skin. "Fuck, Chris," you moaned against his ear.
His eyes rolled back as you touched him and moaned in his ear that way, picking up the pace of your movements as he guided you on him. "Yeah, feel good, baby? Like having sex with older men? They're better at it, right? They have more experience… I know what's good for you," his lips trailed down your collarbones, and you moved so he could mouth your boob through your top. He softly bit, making your back arch and you lost control of yourself, becoming unstable on top of him.
He cursed and held your hips up, now he was the one pounding up into you at a rapid and rough pace. Everytime his pelvis met your clit, it sent waves of pleasures throughout your whole body and you felt yourself coming closer to your orgasm.
"Shit, gonna cum," he said in a whisper almost and you moaned in response. "Gonna cum soon too, baby?
- Yeah," you agreed and rubbed your clit as he continued thrusting into you. Both of your movements became sloppy and right when he was about to release, he pulled out of you and fucked his own fist until he came all over his stomach. With that vise in front of you, your orgasm hit you fast and your hips stuttered above him as he was still riding his own orgasm out.
"Fuck," you whimpered and collapsed on him. You were both panting heavily and he was now stroking your hair softly.
"Y/n, you're fucking crazy," he said and you laughed.
___
One of my fav chapters frfr
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lewisyellowhelmet · 6 months
Text
freefall (pt 2)
lewis hamilton x mercedes engineer!reader
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read part 1 here !!
summary: You and Lewis have let this go on too far, and for too long. (You are an engineer for Mercedes on Lewis’ side of the garage).
content: 18+!!!! general m/f sex acts. coworker relationship. let me know if u want anything else flagged!
You wake cold. The hotel air conditioning has kicked on during the night, a familiar whir in the ceiling, and in your sleep you’ve pulled the covers up around your chin in an attempt to keep your body warmth in. It takes a few circulations of the room for you to find the off switch for the air-con. 
After, you stand against the big window until your alarm goes off, warm breath making a condensation cloud against the glass. You’re in Baku. No. Budapest. Budapest. You’ve been in this hotel before, you’ve seen this view. You have to close your eyes when the surge of memories come. The sound of Lewis singing to himself in the shower. His warm arm over your belly while you slept. Leaning over graphs together to try and figure out how to be faster, how to be better. Your iPhone is ringing, vibrating, morning alarm. The room is still cold. 
You get to the engineers room before Lewis does. It’s rained overnight, the track wet, the air brisk. Endless emails await you. The cars not right. Nothing is right. A headache is pulsing at your temples. Your coffee is cold before you remember to drink it. Others work around you. Recently, you’ve begun having this urge, strong and gripping, to stand up and be wild, to yell and scream. We were in love. We were in love and no one knew. I sacrificed that to give us another go at a championship and now you can’t even get the fucking car to work? 
  You have to close your eyes and practice box breathing until it passes. When you lift your head again, Lewis is moving around your desk to go into Toto’s office. He doesn’t look at you.
It has been a year. A hard year. You’d left the hotel room, left him, feeling on the verge of insanity. Lewis had let you go without much of a fight. It felt like his confession, his acceptance, had drained all his energy. Somewhere silent and hidden behind your heart, you wish he’d fought harder. Having to pretend nothing had happened in front of your co-workers was gut wrenching. Sleeping alone was worse. The break between seasons had helped, a forced separation, different cities, but now, in the thick of a new calendar, a new year, you were constantly turning corners and bumping into him. You couldn’t go back to the friendship you’d had before. And you couldn’t go forward into a new, adjusted working relationship. There was only a sense of coldness, of formality. No way forward, no way back. Only this compounding sense of dread, anticipating the next interaction. 
  Toto’s assistant sticks her head out of the office while you’re gazing unseeing at the screens in front of you, calling for you. Your bones feel stiff and unwilling as you unfold yourself, follow her into the small room. Lewis is sitting in front of the desk, one knee pulled up, gives you a polite smile upon your entrance. Toto is leaning back in his chair, fingers steepled, deep thinking. There are no chairs for you. You hover behind Lewis, and refuse to think about reaching out, touching the back of his neck, smoothing your fingers into his hair. 
  Generic meeting. A summary of free practice, and then qualifying from the day before. Plans for the day. Any new ideas? Any solutions? Your headache is getting stronger. No solutions. 
  Lewis holds the door open for you when the meeting is over, and you can smell him as you move past. Familiar cologne. He used to laugh when you buried his face in his neck, sniffed over-dramatically, pretending to be a curious dog. He’d wriggled from the sensation, your tickling mouth, pressing nose. Pretended he didn’t like it, but always made sure to wear your favourite smell everyday anyway. 
  You need paracetamol. Too late you realise he’s following you to hospitality, where the first aid kit is stored. He is a step behind, lagging, despite easily being able to match your pace. You feel the gap keenly, an open wound. 
The over-ear headphones drown out the noise of the garage. This, at least, you can do. Go through the motions of race day, a familiar rhythm. Positioned on your stool in front of your screens, the microphone against your mouth, the final, tenuous connection between you and Lewis. A direct line between you and him. You go through the regular checks together, safety, engine, ensuring the connection is clear. The cars roar. The adrenaline pounds. 
  “Ready?” You ask. 
  “Ready.” 
You chew on the inside of your mouth so you don’t say, be safe, be careful. The lights flash down. The engines rev. The job begins. 
The air conditioning is on again in the hotel room. They’ve been in to change the sheets, the towels, vacuumed. You feel stupid with fatigue, with loneliness, with missing him. The after-race meetings had dragged. Lewis was tired. The atmosphere was tense. You want to sleep for ten years, but there is a plane to catch first thing tomorrow morning. There are spirits in the mini-fridge, ice clear and beckoning. You drink two in the shower, and another in front of BBC World News on the television. Are you dreaming? Is this real life? The gin gives everything a foggy haze. Your steps are unsteady. You sit in bed and scroll through yours and Lewis’ text threads. Room numbers. Memes. Inside jokes texted under the table during long meetings. You manage to convince yourself its a mistake when you tap through to his contact number, watch it dial, ring through. Listen to the connecting sound, hear him say, “hello?” before you realise what’s happened, what you’ve done, what rule you’ve broken. You hang up. Hot panic. The newsreader is talking about weather. Lewis is calling back, already, and you watch it ring out. You feel frozen by horror. The room is so cold, and the fridge is worse as you reach in, tiny bottles clinking together. Vodka this time. Forget, forget, forget. 
There’s someone knocking on the door. You manage to get yourself into a hotel issued robe, pull it tight, before you get into the small hallway, fumble with the handle, get the door open. You swear, and Lewis has to reach out to stop you closing the door again. 
  “Are you alright?” He asks. 
  “Yes,” you insist. 
  “You called me.” 
  “Did I? It must have been a mistake.”
Your voice sounds fake, even to you, the laugh reedy and broken. 
  “Are you drunk?” Lewis asks. 
  “No,” you lie. 
He drops his arm from where it was holding open the door. He’s wearing pyjama pants and a worn grey hoodie. One you used to wear to go make the coffee in the morning. You can tell from the softness of his expression he’s been recently asleep. You should shut the door now. Block him out again. Go to bed. Instead, you feel yourself start to cry, building in your chest, the tightness in your throat, burning in your eyes. 
  “Babe,” he says, so sad, so concerned, and the sob you emit is embarrassing and loud. You have to let go of the door to cover your face, feeling your back curve over. Lewis is gentle about coming inside, guiding you to the bed, tucking you in. He brings you a glass of water, makes you have three big sips. You’re still crying, childlike, red faced and snotty. He passes you tissues, strokes your hair. 
  “I’m sorry,” you start to say, even as he shushes you, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
  “It’s okay,” he murmurs, “Everything’s okay.” 
You feel as if the world is ending. Crying like this in front of him. Drunk and messy. And the room is so fucking cold. 
  “Can you,” you stumble, wriggling over in the bed, throwing open the covers, “I’m really cold.” 
He says your name the way he used to say it, warm and intimate, a nickname. Like a lover. Like a partner. 
  “Are you sure?” He asks, even as you’re reaching out for him, dragging him in. 
  “Please,” you say, “I’m cold.” 
He tastes salty when you kiss him, your own tears on his mouth. He makes a wounded sound, but then he’s wrapping his arms around you, pulling you to his chest, his leg over yours. You feel held, sheltered. He lets you kiss him again, deeper, better. 
  “I’m sorry,” you say again, when you need to breathe, and he’s smiling, warm eyes, smoothing you hair off your face. 
  “It’s okay,” he repeats, “Whatever you need.” 
Your hands are fists in his hoodie, “I need you.” 
  “How do you need me?”
  “Like this,” you whisper, lips brushing his, taking his hand to slip into your robe, over your breast. He sighs out a breath as his fingers touch your nipple, swipe over it again so you make a small, wanting noise. 
  It feels dreamlike, a long awaited thing. A rush, almost, to get out of your robe, Lewis out of his own clothes so you can sling a leg over his waist, face hidden in the crook of his neck as he pushes into you, his big hand tangled in your hair, holding you to him. Rasping breaths, the sudden heat of two bodies working together, the length of him inside you, pushing deep. It feels instinctual, animalistic, breathing him in, trying to remember everything, compartmentalise every second, every touch, every groan. Lewis rolls you onto your back, but stays close, his mouth finding yours, sharing breath as he grinds into you. You come quickly, nothing controlled, grasping at him and panting, shaking through it. Lewis holds himself there, lets you shudder and cry out, pulsing around him. His eyes are dark and liquid, but he keeps watching you, like he’s trying to remember as well, be present for everything. You don’t want this to ever end. When you can breathe again, he returns to his rythym, steady knocks of his hips into yours, the rush of his breath, of his body. His face drops into your neck when he finishes, hands gripping you like he will never let go again. You feel new, hot tears leak down your face as you hold him. 
You wake warm, this time. You’re curled around yourself, a child, with Lewis aligned to your back, his face against your spine, his arm over you, protecting you. You’re facing the window, curtains left open, blinking at an apartment building, holding hundreds of different lives, different bedrooms, different people. Lewis is still asleep, you can tell from the steadiness of his breath, the sleep-weight of his body over yours. You place your hand over his, interlinking knuckles. The more you wake up, the more you feel embarrassed, shame curdling in your belly. He’s done this out of pity. How gross, to call him, drunk, drag him into bed with you, to beg. You feel overheated, suddenly, untangle yourself from him, slip out of the covers and into the bathroom, pulling the sliding door to encase yourself in the marble and glass. Your eyes are swollen from crying. You mouth is bruised pink from him. There are fingertip bruises on your waist from where he’s held you. You have to sit on the lip of the built in tub so you don’t throw up, or start crying again. You haven’t washed your hair in a few days, and it hangs limp around your fingers, head in your hands, again. Hiding. Wanting to disappear. Your hangover makes you tremble. You’ve failed. You failed years ago, when you looped your arms around his neck and kissed him for the first time. You failed again when you turned your back on him. And now, to be so weak, to force him to do this again, to look after you. 
  The bathroom door slides open. Lewis is in your robe, tight around his shoulders. You try to smile at him, but even without seeing you know it’s more of a grimace. 
  “I don’t know what to say,” you tell him, raking your hands through your hair, “I’m just so, so sorry.” 
  “You said that a lot last night.” 
Lewis doesn’t move any further into the room. Stays in the doorway. Watches. Witnesses. 
  “I can’t believe I. I’m so embarrassed.”
He shakes his head, “Don’t be.” 
  “Lewis,” you’re speechless. What is there to say? How to apologise? To take back? 
  “Look,” he spreads his hands, surrender, “We don’t have to talk about it. It never happened.” 
  “Never happened,” you echo. Vomit threatens. Never happened. 
  “If that’s what you want,” Lewis says. 
You’re nodding, looking down at your bare feet on the tiles, “Yeah, that sounds good.” 
  The silence makes you want to scream. Just to break it. You can hear your heartbeat in your head. A constant pound. You stay there, on the edge of the bathtub, while he gets dressed. He doesn’t look in on his way out. The door shuts with a finality. 
You fly to Oxford. He flies to Monaco. You don’t speak. 
It happens in the middle of the night. The off season. When you check your phone for the first time the next morning, waiting for the kettle to boil, you have so many missed calls your phone has stopped counting them. The photos are blurry, but it’s obvious if you know what you’re looking for. Through a small window in the door of your office. In the first one, you’re just laughing together, the second you are reaching for his hand, the final one you are in his lap, your mouth hidden by his, Lewis’ big hands in your hair. You’re still staring at them when he calls. He does’t say anything when you pick you. You just breathe, together, for a long moment. 
  “So it happened,” you finally say. 
  “It happened,” he agrees. 
  “I haven’t spoken to anyone else yet. I just woke up,” you say. 
  “Don’t,” he says, “I’m going to fly in this afternoon. We’ll have a meeting with the publicists. Toto wants HR there, as well.” 
  “Fuck.” 
You hesitate, and then, “Was Toto mad?”
  “He wasn’t happy. He reckons Susie knew and didn’t tell him.” 
  “Where did the photos come from?”
  “Ex-employee, they think. Was waiting for the right time.” 
  “And now is the right time?” You can hear the edge of hysteria in your voice. 
  “I’m really sorry,” Lewis says. 
  “It’s not your fault.” 
  “I’m still sorry.”
You need to boil the kettle again, tea forgotten. You realise you're gripping the kitchen bench so hard your knuckles have gone white. You let go. You look out over the garden, crisp with morning frost. Christmas soon. You’ll have to explain to your family. 
  “Did Toto say anything about my job?” You ask, feeling sick at the thought. 
  “No. I said if he fired you, I would quit.” 
  “Don’t be stupid.” 
  “I’m not.” 
There’s quiet again. You flick the kettle on.
  “I think it’s good if we come in together. We can plan what we want to say. I can pick you up from your house,” he says. 
  “Alright.” 
  “Don’t answer any numbers you don’t know, okay? Media might call.”
  “Really? I was just gonna pick up strange numbers all day,” you say, a bite in your tone. Lewis laughs though, an amused huff. 
  “You’re right, sorry. I’m control-freaking.” 
You hum an agreement. 
  "I’ll see you soon, then,” he says. 
  You suddenly have a fierce urge not to let him end the call, to let his voice anchor you. 
  “Alright,” you say, and hang up first. 
The meeting is awful, of course. People are panicking. Toto scolds. You go silent. Lewis rages. In the end, the core group sits silent around a meeting table. The most promising solution is to paint it as star-crossed lovers, meant to be, soulmates. Refusing to be kept apart by jobs and contracts. This would be perfect, perhaps, if you were still together. 
  “Could you pretend? Until it died down,” Toto had said. 
  “No,” you’d snapped, speaking over Lewis’, “It depends what she wants.” 
Now, the silence is stale, nothing left to say, but no agreement reached. Your eyes prick with fatigue. 
Lewis drives you home. When he pulls into the driveway, you’re too tired to get out of the car. There is a light on inside. Your mum must be here, checking in on you. Has heard somehow, which must mean it's on the internet.
  “How are you feeling?” Lewis asks, when you make no move to open the door. 
  “Tired,” you say, “You?”
  “Sad.” 
It’s unconscious, reaching to to touch his leg, an urge to comfort. He sighs. The muscle of him is warm through his jeans. 
  “If this had happened a year ago,” he starts, and stops, shaking his head, “Doesn’t matter.” 
  “If it happened a year ago, what?” You say. He shrugs. 
  “Everything might have turned out okay.” 
You turn your face from him, look out the window into the dark street. It makes your heart throb painfully to see him. You can’t speak through a thick, swollen throat. 
  “I’m sorry I didn’t say it,” you finally manage to whisper. Your hand is still on his thigh. 
  “Didn’t say what?" 
You close your eyes, lean to rest your forehead on the car window with a thunk. 
  “Didn’t say that I loved you back.”
  “Did you?” 
 You laugh, exhausted from carrying it for so long, “Lewis. Of course. Of course I do. So much.” 
  “You do?”
Your eyes fly open, realising your mistake. You snatch your hand from his leg, turn to face him, “I did. I did then.” 
  “You don’t love me anymore,” he clarifies. He’s frowning, forehead creased. The night is pressing in on the car, dark and claustrophobic. You can’t speak. 
  “Because nothing has changed for me. I feel the same as I did then,” Lewis says, and you can see how he’s working to speak, jaw twitching, forcing the words out. Something private, and hidden, being pushed into the open. You’re pressing your hands together in your lap, painfully tight. 
  “Alright,” you say, hate yourself for it. He looks away. His eyes are gleaming. 
  “Alright.”
You get out of the car. Stiff and awkward. You get your key in the front door, hear him turn the engine back on. Fear is clawing at your chest. You turn around anyway, back down the steps, jump in front of the car so he has to slam on the breaks, a screech breaking the night air. He’s opening the drivers door at the same time you’re trying to open it, get to him. He’s half out of the car and you’re half in when you kiss him, cold air, warm mouths. He’s grasping your head, holding you steady. 
  "I’m sorry,” you’re panting, “I’m sorry.” 
  “Stop apologising,” Lewis says, “What’s done is done.” 
You keep kissing him, his face, his nose, his jaw. 
  “I love you,” you press into his skin, you kiss into his mouth, “I love you.” 
Lewis is pulling you into his lap, back into the car, pulling the door shut again, crammed in. Your hands under his shirt, feeling his skin, feeling him breathe. 
  “Do you?” He asks, holding your face in front of him. You feel your face hurt with how wide you are grinning, a release of something held inside for so long. Your hands mirror his on his face, precious in your fingers. 
  “I do. I do. I love you.” 
Lewis half laughs, half sobs. His eyes are shining. The car horn beeps from a stray elbow. You keep kissing him anyway. 
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