#the way I lit up when the email came in | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wonusite · 1 year

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❝ When Professor Jeon realizes his most earnest student is no longer paying him the attention he craves, he goes to great lengths to make sure he’s the only one holding her attention. ❞

pairing: jeon wonwoo x fem reader

genre: teacher au, cam girl au, college au, smut

word count: 9.3k

warnings: illicit relationship, imbalance of power, age gap (reader is in her 20s and wonwoo is in his 30s), sex work, drinking, lots of pining, jealousy, misunderstandings, professor!wonwoo, student!reader, cam girl!reader, masturbation (f and m), oral sex (f and m receiving), unprotected sex, office sex, car sex, riding, multiple creampies, overstimulation, pussy drunk!wonwoo

a/n: this has been in the works for way too long and i’m so happy with how it came out. hugest shoutout to the nonny who sent in the ask that started it all. minors dni!!

You think you might actually die.

If you didn’t spontaneously combust from how embarrassed you felt, then you were going to go find a cliff to throw yourself off of. You can’t remember the last time you fucked up this badly, and it doesn’t help that it’s all your friends can talk (and laugh) about as you’re having dinner.

“Maybe he didn’t open it.” Vernon tries to reason.

“Yeah, right.” Soonyoung snorts. “He probably already clicked on the link and is jerking off to her videos right now.”

Chan’s laugh is one of the most endearing sounds you’ve ever heard, but right now it just sounds annoying. You’re glad you ordered an alcoholic drink with your meal because otherwise you wouldn’t be able have this conversation. When your friend sees your sour pout, he quickly changes his tune.

“You’re worrying for nothing. I’m sure once he saw what the site was, he clicked off.” Chan says as he not-so-subtly scoots his chair away from you. “He’s like the most respectful guy ever.”

“Chan’s right.” Vernon is quick to agree. “Professor Jeon isn’t the type to cross those boundaries with a student. You said you sent him an email saying it was a mistake, right? He’s a nice guy, so—”

“How fucking naive can you two be?” Soonyoung cut in with an incredulous look on his face. “I know his type. Those quiet guys are the biggest freaks behind closed doors. He’s definitely the type to fuck a student. I’ll put money on that shit.”

Chan pauses to mull over Soonyoung’s words while Vernon can only offer him an exasperated glare. The two boys know better than anyone how you feel about your professor, and they also know that the older man was the only person in the history of the universe to treat you coldly. This was definitely the worst situation you could ever find yourself in, but Soonyoung was too oblivious to see that fact.

Being the sweetheart that he is, Vernon is quick to change the topic. “Seokmin just texted me. He said everyone is on their way to Jihoon’s place. Let’s get the check.”

For a moment, it seems like your inner turmoil will be forgotten. Sure, you do have class early in the morning, but right now you were going to focus on having a good time at Jihoon’s party. And Vernon was probably right. Professor Jeon was the sweetest, most respectful man you had ever crossed paths with. He probably deleted the email after realizing what it was. And even if he hadn’t, this moment would eventually pass.

After all, no one ever actually died from embarrassment.

Everything was fine until the four of you are about to leave the restaurant and Soonyoung lets out a sound that resembles a chicken being strangled. His eyes are bugged out as he comically gestures across the dimly lit place. Your heart twists uncomfortably when you finally see what has him acting like a fool.

“I told you so.”

Those four words are the ones you hate the most in the world, especially when they’re coming from Kwon Soonyoung. You love him, you really do, but his lack of perception is fucking maddening sometimes. It’s especially infuriating in situations like the one you were in now.

“No fucking way.” Chan whispers with his mouth dropped open. “That’s—”

“Just because they’re having dinner together doesn’t mean they’re fucking.” Vernon reasons, obviously trying to spare what was left of your feelings.

“Who cares?” You manage to say without letting your voice tremble with the heartbreak that was currently seeping into your bones. “Let’s get out of here before they see us.”

Soonyoung only scoffs, not able to believe that your nosy ass doesn’t seem to care about the juicy scandal the four of you had stumbled upon. Vernon starts to push him out the door while you and Chan hurriedly follow behind them. Luckily, you manage to make it out of the restaurant without catching the attention of your English professor and his TA.

Normally, you would’ve loved to be a witness to any potential gossip, but this was different because you just so happened to be the tiniest bit in love with your professor. The more rational part of you knows that it doesn’t really mean anything that Professor Jeon was having dinner with his TA, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting a little bit (a lot).

No one ever died from embarrassment, but apparently dying from a broken heart was real.

“This is actually a good thing for you, Y/N.” Soonyoung says once you’re all in Chan’s car and driving to Jihoon’s party.

You grit your teeth and manage to answer him in a somewhat calm voice. “What are you talking about?”

“If Professor Jeon says anything about the link you accidentally sent him, you can tell him that you know he’s fucking his TA.”

It actually wouldn’t be a bad idea if even talking about the very possibility that those two were having an illicit affair didn’t feel like someone had punched you in the stomach. But instead of letting any of them see how much it actually hurt, you only offered what you hoped was a convincing laugh.

“Yeah. You’re right.”

You look out the window as the conversation takes a different turn, not noticing the looks Vernon keeps giving you all the way to Jihoon's apartment. He doesn’t say anything because you keep speaking and laughing like everything is fine. He should’ve recognized your calm and aloof behavior as a sign that you were on the verge of spiraling, but he didn’t.

Even as you unbutton two more buttons of your pretty blouse and hike up your skirt when you enter the party, he doesn’t say anything. It’s easy for him to assume that you want to hit on some of Jihoon’s producer friends for fun as you often did after getting a little tipsy.

It’s not until he sees you drinking like the world is running out of alcohol that he feels the need to intervene. Vernon quickly walks over to you, eyeing you with blatant concern. You don’t even acknowledge him as he goes to stand beside you.

“Maybe you should slow down.”

You ignored your friend’s concerned voice and downed another shot. In the back of your mind, you know he’s right, but the need to forget about your hurt feelings and humiliation was far greater than reason. Besides, you can hardly taste the alcohol anymore which makes it easier to drink to your heart’s content.

“This is a party, Vernon.” You remind him. “I’m only trying to have a good time. I deserve to, don’t you think?"

Of course he thought you were in desperate need of a fun night out. In fact, he’s the one who convinced you to come since it had been a hot minute since you left your apartment for something that didn’t involve working or school.

But Vernon can see that the way you’re drinking is only an after effect of what you saw at the restaurant, and if you kept this up you were going to black out like you did at Junhui’s party freshman year. Because he didn’t want to relive that night, he makes sure to bring you plenty of water and keep you within his sight. If he couldn’t stop you, he was going to make sure you were taken care of.

Maybe you’re acting childish, but you don’t really care at this point. All you can focus on is the pain that’s tightly gripping your heart. The alcohol helps a bit, but you still don’t manage to forget the events leading up to your irresponsible drinking.

You could get over your little slip up, and even the fact that Professor Jeon was potentially fucking his TA. But what really hurt is that your English professor seemed to display this great disposition to everyone in the world except you. Sure, you should’ve been grateful that he probably didn’t open the link you sent him because he was having dinner with TA, but your fucked up mind and heart couldn’t care about that for some reason.

It’s not fair, you can’t help but think.

You were down bad, but it wasn’t your fault. Every time your English professor smiles, you feel like your heart is going to implode. The way his kind eyes always form into crescents as the softest smile ever graces his face is possibly the most attractive thing you’ve ever seen.

What’s not fair is the fact that Professor Jeon has never directed his pretty smile at you. Not even once.

It’s not like he’s never had the opportunity to do so. You purposely arrive early to his class in order to sit at the very front, and not to mention that you’re very vocal during discussions and always answer his questions. But all he’s ever offered you is a fleeting glance and a nod of acknowledgement while the entire English department gets that stupidly endearing smile of his.

Chan always tells you how thirsty you look during class, and when you make the argument that he wouldn’t know since he always sits all the way in the back, he actually laughed at you.

You lean forward so much that it looks like you’re about to fall out of your seat, he’d said.

After you catch yourself doing exactly that during one of Professor Jeon’s more riveting lectures, you wanted the earth to open up and swallow you whole. If Lee fucking Chan—one of the most oblivious people you had ever met—had noticed your massive crush, then you were 100% sure your professor had as well.

Just thinking about it made you cringe and down another shot. The burning feeling made you come to a decision. If your professor didn’t care for you, then so be it. Tonight was the last night you would feel heartbroken over him. You were going to shove him out of your heart and mind if it was the last thing you did.

Wonwoo can’t describe the feeling in his chest when his class is ten minutes away from starting, and you’re not already in your usual seat. He tries to brush it off because maybe you’re just running late. After almost an entire semester of always being early, it was only logical that you would be late at least once. Things happened, and he was sure you would show up soon.

At least, that’s what he thinks until it’s actually time to start the class and you’re still no where to be seen. It bothers him and it shows. Bad.

The class is probably the worst he’s had since he first became a professor, but that was the least of his concerns. All he can focus on is the uncomfortable feeling twisting in his gut as he thought about the possibilities of why you didn’t show up to class. Wonwoo doesn’t want to believe that you’re too embarrassed to show up because of the link you accidentally sent him.

You had sent him an email containing the correct link and profusely apologizing about thirty seconds later, and after he saw the name of the website he could see how the mistake was made. Unfortunately for you, the two websites were very similar in name.

If you really were avoiding coming to class because of that, he wishes you would give him a chance to tell you that he wasn’t uncomfortable or angry. But Wonwoo doesn’t get the opportunity to speak to you as soon as he hopes because almost an entire week goes by until he sees you again. He sees you on the way to his office and calls out your name before he realizes what he’s doing.

The way you’re expression drops into a cold discomfort makes him falter a bit. Where was that bright smile you always directed at him? It only makes Wonwoo certain that you were still mortified over what happened.

“I didn’t see you in class on Tuesday.” Wonwoo says after you awkwardly greet him. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, just... personal stuff.”

The air is painfully awkward, and Wonwoo can’t stand the abrupt shift in your behavior. He needs to let you know that what happened shouldn’t make you feel uneasy around him because he understands that it was a mistake. However, he doesn’t react fast enough to do so.

“Professor.” You say hesitantly, nervously biting at your bottom lip. “Did you click on the link I accidentally sent you?”

You’re looking at him so shyly and nervously that he becomes powerless immediately. Wonwoo wants to make you feel more comfortable, but he also is unable to lie to you. “I did.” He says honestly. “But once I realized you sent the wrong website, I clicked off.”

Wonwoo can tell his honestly doesn’t make you feel any better. Just as he goes to comfort you, your attitude suddenly shifts.

“I’m really sorry. I swear it won’t happen again.” The apology sounds sincere, yet it’s missing the usual warmth your voice held whenever you spoke to him. “I have to go. I’ll see you in class.”

Wonwoo’s heart sinks when you run off without even giving him a chance to say goodbye. Maybe this is his own fault for taking your once sweet attitude toward him for granted. He never thought a day would come where you would actively avoid him.

A sudden determination to have things go back to the way they were overcomes him. Unfortunately, things got worse before they got better.

When he sees you again, you’re not early. You aren’t late either, but it’s odd to see that you don’t seem to care to be early anymore. And you don’t sit right at the front either. No, this time you sit all the way in the back between two boys—Lee Chan and Xu Minghao. This somewhat bothers him, but he can’t really be upset. After all, you were allowed to sit wherever you wanted.

It’s not until he sees you giggling and talking with those boys—particularly Minghao—during his lecture that he really gets agitated. He carries on as normally as he can, but this sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach is expanding up into his chest keeps distracting him. Deep down, Wonwoo knows this feeling is nothing more than petty jealousy.

Your new behavior carries on for weeks, and it makes Wonwoo feel like he’s losing his mind.

Finally, he decides he can’t keep his frustrations pent up inside and does something he knows he shouldn’t. When he gets home, he immediately goes to his room and gets on his computer. He opens the browser and is quick to click on the only site that’s on his favorites. Wonwoo quickly logs in, the action of typing his username and password is muscle memory at this point.

His eyes don’t mind the videos on the homepage, he only focuses on going to his subscriptions and clicks on the only profile he has under his favorites. Wonwoo let’s out a laugh. It’s quiet and slightly bitter. It’s funny how worried you were about him clicking on the link when he had been watching your streams since before you became his student.

Wonwoo feels a sense of sour accomplishment. He’s gone almost an entire week without watching any of your videos, but that was all in vain. As he scrolls down, he notices that you’ve done two streams since he last watched you. Just as he was deciding which one he was going to watch, he got a notification.

brattydoll sent you a message!

It’s pretty certain that Wonwoo flinched so hard it can be seen from space. He can’t believe what he’s seeing, and it almost feels wrong that this is happening to him. But he shoves all those thoughts aside and quickly clicks on the notification.

brattydoll: hi! you were the top tipper for the stream i did last week. as usual, you are eligible for a private stream. let me know what time and day best works for you xoxo

It takes him less than a minute to type a response to let you know he’s ready now. He waits in anticipation for your message, really hoping you say you’re ready too.

His dick starts to get hard when you tell him you’ll be ready in ten minutes while also explaining the boundaries you have while doing these private streams. He doesn’t really need a reminder since he’s won a private stream from you a couple of times before. Honestly, all he can really focus on is how he’ll get to have you all for himself. He quickly strips down to his underwear before he settling into his chair.

Wonwoo feels his cock twitch when you pop up on his screen. You have a sweet, seductive smile on your face as you gaze at your screen. It’s not like the one he was used to, but at least he can pretend you’re directing it at him like you know who he actually is. He’s fully hard by the time he notices that you’re wearing the lingerie set he sent you recently. You look absolutely divine in it. His very own temptation. Licking his lips, Wonwoo starts typing into the chat.

you look beautiful, baby. how have you been?

“How have I been?” You tilt your head innocently. “Horny. But what else is new?”

Fuck. This is exactly why he could never look you in the eyes for too long when he saw you in person. Wonwoo was always afraid you would be able to tell how much he wanted you if he looked at you too long. He was never good at hiding his feelings, after all.

“Do you like how your gift looks on me?” Your sultry voice asks, and Wonwoo feels his heart pound when your smile becomes affectionate.

i fucking love it. i knew it would be perfect for you.

Your tantalizing grin makes Wonwoo wish he was there with you. God, how he would ruin you.

“Before I start, I have one question.” You say as you lick your lips. “Are you not gonna let me see your pretty little cock?”

Wonwoo lets out a deep breath because he can literally feel his cock throb in need. He quickly angles his webcam so you can only see his torso before he turns on the camera. Your wolffish grin has precum oozing from his bulbous tip, and he thinks vaguely that he would fuck that complacent smirk right off your face if ever given the opportunity.

“Thought you were getting shy on me, baby.” You say as your hands start to trail up your body.

never.

You giggle sweetly, and Wonwoo feels like he can come from the sound alone. He wonders if you know exactly what you do to him and everyone who gets to see you like this. He suspects you do.

“I missed you.” It comes out breathy as you start to knead your tits. You bite your lip before pulling off your bra. “You hadn’t been on my latest streams, and I thought that maybe I wasn’t your favorite cam girl anymore.”

If only you knew.

you’ll always be my favorite, kitten.

You moan softly when you see the chat, thumb and index finger pinching and tugging at your nipples. “You promise?”

Wonwoo types a quick yes before he grips his cock, thumb rubbing across his slit, spreading the precum all over his tip. His large hand starts to pump his cock, watching as your eyes focus on the what he squeezes and tugs on himself. Wonwoo lets out a shaky groan when he sees your thighs squeeze together.

let me see that pretty pussy, baby.

You’re quick to push your panties to the side and your two fingers along your wet lips. Wonwoo’s eyes are glued to your pussy. Watching you use your arousal to lubricate your fingers is driving him insane, and he has to slow his movements when you sink your fingers into your cunt. He wonders what face you would make if it were his fingers fucking you instead. They’re so much bigger than yours are.

“Fuck.” You moan as you start to grind into your hand.

Wonwoo watches as your fingers move in and out of your cunt, eyeing the way you arousal is dripping down to your ass. Fuck. He wonders if you always get so wet or if the sight of his cock is getting you off. Part of him feels content deludedly believing it’s the latter.

Your moans grow louder when your fingers brush against your sweet spot. It’s rare that you imagine it’s your subscriber’s dick inside you and not your fingers, but cockydom’s cock is just so big and pretty that it’s hard not to. The other part of you thinks about your hot professor despite the fact that you were trying to get rid of the feelings you had for him. Oh well. Rome wasn’t built in a day.

Wonwoo curses as his movements speed up. There’s nothing he loves more than watching you play with yourself while pretending that his fist is actually your sweet little cunt.

you close, baby?

“So close.” You whimper as you feel your orgasm building up. “Are you gonna be a good boy and come with me?”

He’ll do anything you want. Instead of telling you that, Wonwoo types in the chat to keep your eyes on him. He wants you orgasm to the sight of him coming.

You’re glad your eyes are focused on the pretty dick on your screen because it makes it easier to reach your orgasm. The sight of the flushed cock aching and throbbing makes you clench around your fingers. You can tell he’s close by the way his hips are bucking into his hand as he squeezes around the sensitive tip. His thighs are quivering, and with a few more drags of his fist, you see the first rope of cum shoot out of him.

Wonwoo lets out a strangled gasp as his cock throbs wildly with each ribbon of cum that shoots from his tip. He comes so much that his seed covers his hand and abs. It glistens over his pulsing dick while he fucks his hand through his high. He smirks when he sees that you’re eyes are completely fixed on him as he milks every last drop from his cock.

A low moan tumbles past your lips as your eyes roll to the back of your head as your orgasm washes over you. Wonwoo is careful to watch your facial expression, his fist subconsciously speeds up. You're just so fucking hot, and he just imagines how you would look coming on his cock.

You smile nicely and sweetly at the camera, biting your lower lip as you moan softly and rub a thumb over your clit. Two fingers spread yourself so he can see the way your folds glisten with your slick. Wonwoo’s zero in on your quivering cunt and the fingers that held them open. He just wants to take them in his mouth and suck them dry.

“I haven’t came that hard in a long time.” You breathe out blissfully. “You always do this to me.”

Wonwoo swallows thickly. Fuck. You’re turning him on all over again.

“Let’s end it here, baby. Be sure to watch my next stream.”

And just like that, the screen goes black and Wonwoo is left staring his own reflection.

Sometimes you have to wonder if your life was fate’s way of punishing you for something you had done in a previous life because there was no fucking way you were this unlucky without any reason.

When you agreed to meet Seokmin for dinner, you never thought you’d be itching to leave the moment you arrived. All you wanted to do was have fun and distract yourself from your failing plan to get over Professor Jeon, but unfortunately for you, fate had other plans.

After the hostess leads you to your table, it becomes clear that bringing along Soonyoung and Chan was a mistake. Because sitting at the table alongside your friend was none other than Professor Jeon Wonwoo. You nearly trip over yourself because not only is he there, laughing and talking without a care in the world, but he looks so fucking hot while doing so.

The older man isn’t wearing his glasses and his hair is slicked up, exposing his forehead. Your professor looks like an absolute dream, but all you can see him as is a nightmare in the flesh.

This could not be happening to you.

It always slips your mind that Seokmin is older than all of you, but now you know that you’ll never forget. You considered turning around and making a stealthy escape, but your overenthusiastic friend spots you before you can even make a move. He greets all of you with a loud shout. At this point you can't just run away no matter how badly you want to. But you decide to stifle all your feelings, and try your hardest to not act like a skittish animal.

“Professor.” Chan greets casually as you three go to sit, and you envy that he’s so nonchalant. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I haven’t seen Seokmin in a long time.” Wonwoo says, noticing how you’re doing everything in your power not to look at him.

He won’t stand for it. Not anymore. “It’s nice to see you, Y/N.”

It gives him a sick thrill to see you shiver at his words. It’s subtle, but it’s there. He manages to smile instead of smirking like he wants to. Wonwoo has always known you’ve felt an attraction toward him, and he wasn’t going to let you forget it. After all, you were his favorite student.

“Don’t be so awkward!” Seokmin chastises you after you tensely greet your professor. “Wonwoo is just a normal guy right now! Don’t even think of him as your professor.”

If only that’s why you felt so uncomfortable.

Your first mistake of the night was bringing your moronic friends who can’t take a hint. The second mistake was ordering a round of shots to ease your nerves. It’s not like dinner isn’t going smoothly, but the coiling in your stomach refuses to let you relax.

You try to engage as much as you can without letting your emotions slip through, but your professor keeps making it hard. You’re not sure what’s wrong with him, but he seems interested in everything you have to say, no matter how small. You can’t help but feel a little bitter at that.

Where was this energy when you were making a fool out of yourself during his many classes?

“Y/N.” Seokmin calls in a singsong voice after he downs another shot. “A little birdie told me you’re seeing someone.”

You try to ignore Wonwoo’s piercing stare, but it’s hard. Instead of focusing on your professor’s uncharacteristic behavior, you cast a fleeting glare at Chan. He can never keep his mouth shut, and this time you don’t know how you’re going to keep yourself calm enough to answer Seokmin.

Somehow, you manage to respond normally. “I wouldn’t say that. This little birdie is obviously mistaken.”

“Really?” Soonyoung cuts in, and you can literally hear the alcohol starting to dictate his actions. “Because Minghao has been wanting to fuck you since high school, and you finally went out with the kid last week. It’s gonna break his heart to know that you don’t want to be his girlfriend.”

You clench your jaw and give Seokmin a look that said, control this fool before I murder him. Sure, maybe it would’ve been good for Professor Jeon to think that you weren’t trying to get at him because of the link you’d sent him, but talking about Minghao’s apparent schoolboy crush on you was not the way you wanted to do that. Also, it was just uncool to air out someone’s intimate feelings like that.

Before any of you could intervene and stop Soonyoung’s drunken ramblings, your dear friend keeps talking. “Of course you’re not obligated to return his feelings. If that’s the case, Seungcheol also wants to go out with you. Just let me know."

Chan might not be very observant, but he knows when you’re on the verge of exploding. He definitely does not want to see you on the warpath because it’s possibly one of the scariest experiences he’s ever gone through. So he quickly intervenes before you decided to shove one of the utensils on the table down Soonyoung’s throat.

“You said Jihoon asked you to sing on the new song he’s workin on.” Chan cuts in before Soonyoung can keep talking. “Did you say yes?”

This shift in conversation works out for all of ten minutes before Soonyoung starts up again. However, he’s now changed his target to your English professor.

“Wonwoo.” Soonyoung slurs the name slightly. “Can I ask you something?”

You can see the disaster waiting to happen, and you only hope he doesn’t do anything to perturb your teacher. As you share a look with Chan, you can tell he’s thinking the same thing.

“Since you’re not my teacher anymore, I feel comfortable asking you this.” Before he can say anything, Soonyoung continues. “Are you fucking your TA?”

Everything just goes silent.

Seokmin’s smile drops instantly. All he can do is gawk at Soonyoung. Chan looks at Professor Jeon while hiding his mouth behind his hand, and you just know he has that shit-eating grin on his face. That dumbass finds it funny, but you know that your friend isn’t done with his drunken questioning. Professor Jeon doesn’t seem all that fazed. He only blinks slowly before his eyes fall to you.

You’re not sure what Wonwoo sees when he looks at you, but whatever it is, he doesn’t like it. When he looks back at Soonyoung, there’s a lethal coldness in his eyes that you never in a million years thought you’d see. If looks could kill, your friend would be nothing but dust at this point.

“No, I’m not fucking my TA.” His deep voice comes out in a growl and you almost want to hit yourself for feeling turned just by the sound of it. “Why would you—?”

“You don’t have to lie. You’re amongst friends here.” Soonyoung declares with a laugh.

God, you’ve never wanted to throttle anyone more than you did right at that moment.

“Besides, you were seen having dinner at Michelins.” Soonyoung says before he gestures to himself then to you and Chan. “By us.”

It was official. You were definitely paying for something wicked that you had done in a past life.

Wonwoo’s shocked gaze falls to you, but you and Chan are too busy looking like you were one more word away from strangling Soonyoung to pay him any attention. Ten shades of horror goes through him at that moment because even though there was nothing going on between him and his TA, he didn’t want you to think there was.

“Aha,” Seokmin chuckles nervously. “Soonyoung’s a little drunk, I guess.”

“That’s right.” You say with a disgenuine smile and gritted teeth. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

Luckily, Seokmin is quick to call for the check with the pretext of needing to get up early to go record with Jihoon. You share a look with Chan as you all get up, knowing you were both utterly fucked. Sure, Professor Jeon didn’t seem like the petty type, but Soonyoung had a way of bringing that side out in people.

“Wanna share an Uber?” Chan asks you as he hold on to a wandering Soonyoung.

Again, you ignore your professor’s piercing gaze and shake your head. “Minghao’s gonna take me home.” You say as you gesture behind you to the waiting car.

Wonwoo watches with a clenched jaw as you slip away after only offering him a halfhearted farewell.

Since his plan didn’t work this time, he was going to move to Plan B.

It makes him smirk a bit. Soon enough, you’d be the obedient, earnest student you were before this entire mess started.

If Wonwoo felt hesitant about executing his plan before, he definitely doesn’t after seeing the way your attention is focused on Xu Minghao the entirety of his class. He can barely manage to keep a calm facade as he tells you that he needs you to see him before his office hours are over. Just as he hoped, you come just when there’s about ten minutes left. He knows you do it so you wouldn’t have to spend much time with him.

You try to rush him because you can’t stand him when he has his hair slicked up and no glasses on. And you feel like you’re going crazy because it almost seems like he’s aware of this with the way he’s looking at you.

“I wanted to make sure you don’t feel uncomfortable around me after what happened the other night.”

It’s a shame that you can’t tell him that you don’t want to talk about it, especially with him. Instead of telling him that you just wanted him to get out of your mind and heart, you only offered him an impassive shrug. “I don’t. Is that all?”

“I also hope you know I’m not sleeping with my TA.” Wonwoo says in a slow drawl that makes a familiar heat gather at the pit of your gut.

“Yeah.” You breathe out shakily. “I know you wouldn’t sleep with a student or someone who was your student.”

You feel like a wounded gazelle when Professor Jeon starts to stalk toward you. A quiet squeal leaves your throat when he wraps a strong arm around your waist and pulls you flush against him. “Who says I wouldn’t?” He hums against the shell of your ear. “I’m not fucking my TA because she’s not the one I want.”

A dull thumping sound fills your ears, and it takes you a second to realize that it’s your heart. You swallow thickly and look at Wonwoo with wide eyes when he pulls away from your ear. “I… but this—”

“Don’t look so surprised.” He purrs in that deep voice of his, and you can already feel the wetness start to pool between your legs. “Despite what you all think, I’m a cocky dom.”

It takes you half a second to figure out what he’s implying. Your jaw drops, feeling like you’ve been body snatched and dropped in an alternate universe. “You—! You’re—!”

“Don’t get shy on me now, kitten. That’s not you.”

If he’s cockydom, then he’s been watching you for a long time. Much longer than you’ve been his student. It flatters and mortifies you all at the same time.

“Do you know how hard it was to have you so close without being able to touch you?” Wonwoo groans as he presses closer to you. He smirks when you whimper at the feeling of his hard cock resting against you.

“I couldn’t even look at you without thinking about your pretty little cunt.”

Suddenly, it all makes sense to you. His coldness, his unwillingness to pay you much attention, everything. That’s all you need to realize before you smash your lips on to his.

Wonwoo moans into your mouth, hands sliding down beneath your skirt to dig into your ass. His cock twitches when he feels that you aren’t wearing any underwear. Fuck. He was going to ruin you in every way possible.

You slowly guide him toward his desk without disconnecting from his lips, needing him to fuck you like you’ve dreamed of him doing from the moment you saw him. Just as you’re about to bend over his desk and show him how wet you already are, a knock startles you both.

“Professor? Can I come in?”

You both recognize it as his TA’s voice, and just as Wonwoo is about to tell her to get lost, you put a finger to your lips. He can only watch as you drop to your knees and crawl under his desk before you motion for him to sit down. It’s almost comical how easily he complies with your wishes, just how he always has during the private streams.

You really do have him wrapped around your little finger.

Wonwoo pushes his chair forward a bit, but not too much so he wouldn’t crowd you. He clears his throat before telling his TA she can come in.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“No.” Wonwoo’s smile is too pretty and too casual for your liking. “Not at all.”

So you do what any other rational person would do.

You start to undo his pants.

Wonwoo is always good at keeping a poker face, but you’ve observed him long enough to know when he’s starting to get flustered. The edges of his mouth tighten and his eyes get this look in them. It makes you lick your lips. Oh, this was going to be fun.

Somehow, you manage to get his cock out of his pants without making too much noise. You find it kind of cute how Wonwoo is acting like he’s unaffected. However, his hard, twitching cock says otherwise. It’s so big and thick, and looks ten times prettier in person.

You lick your lips before you wrap them around the big mushroom top, gently swirling your tongue around to nurture the head. You’re looking up at him, holding back a smirk. He keeps talking with his TA about lesson plans and other shit you don’t really care about. How can you when you finally have his cock in your hands and mouth like you’ve always wanted?

Wonwoo covers a moan with a cough when you take the rest of him into your mouth. Well as much as you can, anyway. They say the camera adds ten pounds, but it didn’t do his pretty cock any justice. You can barely fit half of him in your mouth.

That doesn’t stop you from sucking his dick like a lollipop. It’s heavy against your tongue, weighing it down with the sweet, opaque drops of precum. Wonwoo is surprisingly good at not making any noise, but you can tell he’s close when he starts to carefully thrust up into your mouth, forcing you to take him a little deeper.

You speed up your movements as much as you can without making any actual noise, hollowing your cheeks as you do.

“Are you okay?” That stupid TA of his asks. “You look a little flushed.”

“Just fine.” He grits out with a tense smile. “We should probably wrap up now.”

You hear the rustling of papers just as Wonwoo starts twitching in your mouth. The soft whine you let out feels like a hot rubber band around his cock.

“Lock the door on your way out.” Now your professor sounds like he’s in pain, and you know you have him right where you want him.

“Okay?” His TA sounds confused. “But are you sure you’re—?”

“Just go.” He growls, and in the next second you hear the door slam shut.

You almost laugh, but when you see Wonwoo’s thighs clenching you prepare yourself to swallow every last fit of cum he has for you. It doesn’t take long for his cock to twitch wildly before ropes of hot, salty cum shoot down your throat. He always comes a lot, but you overestimate your ability to swallow it all. Some of this spills out of the edges of your mouth as Wonwoo lets out a loud moan.

When you pull away, he grips your arm and helps you up so you’re face to face with him. He looks so good, sweaty and flushed from his orgasm. Wonwoo’s thumb wipes the excess cum from your chin before shoving his sticky finger in your mouth. You happily lick his tongue clean, making sure to moan wantonly while you do so.

Wonwoo picks you up easily and settles you on the edge of his desk. His eyes are dark and hungry as he put his hands on either side of your thighs. “Such a fucking tease, kitten. What would you have done if she caught us?”

You boldly smirk at him, feeling your arousal drip out of you and spill on to his desk. “No one would believe her anyway. Everyone knows sweet, respectful Professor Jeon would never fuck a student.”

That’s all it takes for him to grip the front of your flimsy t-shirt and literally rip it off of you. The cold air hits your bare tits, and you can’t stop the surprised gasp that you let out.

“No bra and no panties?” Wonwoo growls, licking his lips at the sight of your hardened nipples. “Were you planning on seeing that boy tonight?”

You bite your lip and smirk. Maybe you would let Soonyoung off the hook sooner than planned. “So what if I was? You have your TA to keep you company after hours, no?”

Wonwoo growls a bit before he lifts your skirt enough to expose your dripping cunt. He licks his lips when he sees that your sweet nectar is staining his desk. He gently moves to rub your folds before delivering a harsh slap to your cunt. You whine loudly, hips thrusting upward. He repeats his actions until you’re literally trembling against him.

“Such a bad girl.” Wonwoo says as he start to rub your cunt to ease the stings of his slaps. “But let me make something clear to you, kitten. I make the rules here.”

Before you can think to protest, Wonwoo shoves his fingers inside you, knuckle deep. You can only moan and grind into his hand as he curls them expertly against your sweet spot. His actions almost have you screaming, cunt clamping down on his relentless digits. He pulls out his fingers from your needy hole with a wet pop just before you can allow yourself to fall into true bliss.

Wonwoo smirks when you let out a bratty whine. He loved every second of it. His bratty princess. “Your pussy is so greedy, baby. Sucking my fingers in and not wanting to let go.”

You might feel embarrassed, but Wonwoo drops to his knees and smashes his face into your hot cunt. He smirks against you when you let out the sexiest moan he’s ever heard. Immediately, he shoves his tongue inside you and swirls it around slowly, licking up every drop of your juices.

Wonwoo can’t help but moan at how good you taste. Fuck. He knew you would taste like heaven, and it feels wrong that he’s deprived himself of you for so long. This all feels like a dream to him.

All you can do is whimper and mewl as you grind your cunt into his face. You let out a broken whimper as you feel your climax approaching. “Professor!”

Wonwoo pulls away from your cunt, smirking when you whine. “Uh, uh, kitten. It’s Wonwoo. Say my name.”

He groans when he sees your fluttering hole clench around nothing, and again he dives in like a madman. This time he shoves his fingers inside of you, needing you to come on his tongue. All it takes is a few licks and pump of his fingers for you to close your legs around his head and orgasm with a shout of his name.

“Wonwoo!”

Fuck. He’ll never get over hearing you moan his name. At this point he doesn’t care if the dean himself hears you. He won’t stop until he stuffs you full of his cum.

You can only watch as he tugs off his clothes, appreciating how good his body looks in person. Wonwoo stalks towards you and rubs your cunt a little, mean smirk on his face. You pout at him with a low whine and wrap your thighs wrapping around his waist. “Don’t be mean like you usually are.”

His other hand moves around your body to roughly knead at the swell of your ass, pushing you against his fingers. You mewl softly, fluttering your eyelashes bat him as you look at him with puppy dog eyes that you know he won’t deny.

“Don’t be a fucking brat.” He growls suddenly shoving his slick coated fingers past your lips to shut you up.

Your tongue feels heavy as you twirl the tip around the pads of his fingers, hands scratching at his chest. A low groan rumbles in his broad chest as he watches you with darkened eyes. “Only good girls get fucked, kitten. Remember that.”

Before you can say something bratty as is your custom, the words on the tip of your tongue when you feel the tip of his cock grinding against your wet entrance. It makes your mind go blank with need.

Wonwoo’s fingers slips out of your mouth and settle on your hips to keep you still. “Your little cunt is so wet, all for this fucking cock, huh?”

You nod fervently, mewling loudly as he pushed in slowly. The stretch burns, but also feels so fucking good. You feel every ridge and vein of his thick cock, but Wonwoo isn’t satisfied with only your mewls and whimpers. Even as he’s fully sheathed inside your hot cunt, he’s thrusting painfully slow, dragging his hard cock along your walls torturously.

“Don’t stay quiet, baby. Tell me how much you want my cock.”

Your whine makes him throb inside you. “I’ve wanted your cock for so long. Just fuck me already.”

“What a whiny little brat.” Wonwoo smirks as his hands move up your body to pinch your nipples. “So fucking cute.” His words are slightly slurred, drunk on the feeling of your pussy struggling to fit his whole length.

“Fuck! Wonwoo!” You moan when he starts to thrust into you.

You can only whimper and gasp as his big cock rams into you at an unrelenting pace. It’s almost too much, but you quickly learn that your nerdy English professor is insatiable. His palms trail down to your thighs until he has your trembling legs pushed up against your chest. This new position makes him fuck you deeper, and by now you’re babbling under him, head thrown back and incomprehensible moans on your lips.

“Fucking love your cock!” You moan as he continues to hit the spongy spot inside you.

Your thighs are quivering from how hard he’s fucking you, but you love it. All you can focus on his how the cook in your stomach is on the verge of snapping.

Wonwoo groans at the feeling of your slick walls clamping down on his cock. He pulls back a bit, watching in awe as the base of his cock gets coated in a thin white ring of cream. A broken moan tears from his throat as his cock starts to twitch and throb inside you. “Gonna come for me, baby?”

All you can do is nod stupidly as he lets out another groan from how tightly your pussy is. “Good girl.”

It only takes one more snap of Wonwoo’s hips for you to come undone and coat his cock with your cream. He moans along with you, hips still thrusting to fuck you through your orgasm.

Your glassy eyes stare up at him in your afterglow and you wonder if it’s the mind numbing orgasm singing through your veins or if Wonwoo has always looked so ethereal.

“Fuck, kitten. All this for me? How cute.”

You can only whine pathetically when you realize Wonwoo is talking about the wet squelch that’s filling his office when his cock slams in your pussy. A string of broken whimpers tumble past your lips at how he’s pounding into your overstimulated cunt.

“So fucking tight, baby.” He breathes out heavily.

From his sloppy thrusts, you can tell me close. It makes you grin and purposely clench down on him. “Fill me up, professor.”

He thinks you’re kidding until you push away the hands that are still holding on to your legs. You stealthily wrap them around his waist so he won’t pull out. Wonwoo moans, unable to hold back his orgasm. You both moan as he dumps his cum into you, his hot seed filling you to the brim.

He slowly lets you go, and just as you think you’re done. Wonwoo flips you over so you’re on your stomach and bent over his desk. He groans at the sight of his cum leaking out of your cute little pussy.

You lay pliant and silent as Wonwoo folds your skirt up, his big hands kneading the globes of your ass in a gentle circle. Being the inpatient brat that you are, you wiggle your hips back until you bump against his damp cock. Wonwoo lets you rut your ass against his crotch for friction until he stills your hips with a click of his tongue. “So impatient, baby.”

“Only for you, babe.”

Wonwoo groans and spreads one ass cheek to the side and exposing your messy cunt to the air. You’re so pretty and wet for him, hole fluttering and glossy with your mixed release.

“Want me to fill your tight little cunt again?” Wonwoo asks patronizingly as he nudges the head of his cock between your wet folds.

You smirk against the cool wood of his desk. “Don’t act like you’re not dying to.”

Wonwoo can’t be angry when you arch your ass further against him in invitation. Not when he knows your words are true. Also, he finds it increasingly difficult to refuse you. His fingers curl around your waist and your body down his desk until he impales your little pussy on his cock. The stretch is painstakingly slow, forcing you to feel every inch, ridge,and vein dragging along your walls.

“Oh!” You moan wantonly. “Fuck me.”

“Look how well you take me. If only you would’ve kept your attention on me, I would’ve been nicer.”

You can’t tell if he’s mocking you or not, but you don’t fucking care. His big cock feels too good that it’s all you can think about.

Wonwoo groans in approval, watching the way your pussy expands as he draws back. He’s obsessed with the way your cunt sucks him in nice and tight as he plunges back into you. Being the insatiable little brat that you are. You start you bounce yourself back on his cock.

“Kitten.” He says through a strained moan. “What did I tell you—?”

His reprimand is cut off with a sharp grunt, his hips stuttering while you tremble and frantically fuck your cunt on his cock at a quick pace, the pleasure coiling in your lower belly faster than before. He smirks and decides to match your pace until you can’t take it anymore.

“So wet and perfect for me.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as Wonwoo start to slam into your spot at a brutal pace. The loud squelching from your pussy and your moans is all you can hear. It’s almost a miracle that no one has come to his office from all the noise you’re making.

“But I think.” Wonwoo grunts as the tip of his cock ventured deep into your cunt, intoxicating him with your tightness. “My bratty princess still needs to be taught a lesson.”

His deeps voice makes you shudder, and when you sink your nails into the hard woods, you feel large palms cover your smaller hands. Wonwoo links your fingers together before he starts pounding into you once again. He groans at the feeling of your hot cunt clenching down on him. So perfect and tight.

He fucks into you roughly until you’re wrapped around him so tightly that he can barely move. Wonwoo can tell that he’s fucked you stupid because all you can do is whine and moan about how big he is. It’s nonsensical babbling that doesn’t really make sense, but he loves every bit of it. All it takes is for you to cream on his cock for his own orgasm to hit. Your spasming walls make him thrust deeply into you, fucking his cum back into your walls relentlessly.

Once he can’t handle the overstimulation he gently pulls out of your sensitive cunt. You mewl softly, and Wonwoo feels like his heart is on the verge of exploding. He gently rubs his thumbs against the back of your hands before pressing a sweet kiss to the side of your head.

“Come on, baby.” He says gently as pulls you up from his desk. “Let’s get you home.”

You’re not sure when you fall into an almost domestic routine with Wonwoo, but you’re too busy enjoying the bliss of fucking him to care. A giddy feeling blooms in your chest when you’re leaving your part-time job for the night and see your professor's sleek black car waiting for you. No matter how many times he’s waited for you, the warm feeling never dulls.

Within minutes of getting into his car, your back is brushing up against the steering wheel as you sit on Wonwoo’s lap. By now you’ve taken off your jeans and are only wearing an oversized sweatshirt that originally belonged to him. Of course, you’re also wearing the pair of lacy panties that he bought for you a while back.

“Fuck, kitten.” Wonwoo licks his lips as he lifts the material covering your clothed cunt. His cock twitches when he sees that the fabric is wet. “Did you know I was coming?”

The grin you give him makes him want to ruin you. “I was hoping you would.”

You’re so needy, but he loves it. And now he’s going to ruin you all over again.

Wonwoo loves the pretty little sounds you let out as you start to grind into his clothed cock. “You’re acting so needy. Does that mean you’re gonna behave tonight?”

You give him an impish grin and shake your head. It would be a cold day in hell if you were ever to be pliant for him. Wonwoo growls lowly, and before you know it, he’s pulling out his cock and dragging you up and down the length of it. “You feel that? It’s all for you, baby.”

Being the impatient brat that you are, you don’t wait for him to give you permission to sink down on to his cock and start bouncing on it. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, desperately holding on to him as if he could disappear right in front of you. His fat cock is stretching you out so much, and no matter how many times you’ve fucked already, you’re still not used to it.

“Fuck, baby. You feel so good. So tight.”

You let out a loud whine when Wonwoo starts to thrust up into you. All you can do is moan his name as your pussy spasms and clenched down on him as he grips your ass to help you fuck his cock.

“So fucking good.” You mewl as the tip of his cock hits your g-spot with every thrust.

The sound of skin slapping fills the car and all you can think about is how good you feel. It doesn’t matter that your arousal is leaking down to his balls and staining his pants. Your hot cunt feels too good. Wonwoo moves his hand down to toy with your clit, thumb pressing into it a bit as he starts rhythmically rubbing it with his thrusts.

Wanton moans spill from your mouth as you feel your orgasm approaching. Your fingers claw at his chest as you finally come, feeling the coil in your lower abdomen finally snap. With a few more sloppy thrusts, he goes as deep as he can before finally releasing his load into you.

As usual, Wonwoo keeps fucking into your wet walls, eager to fuck his cum back inside you. Your mixed release seeps down to the driver seat, but that’s the least of Wonwoo’s worries. He pounds into you harder, your cunt practically swollen now by how hard he’s fucking into you.

Finally, he slows his movement before completely stopping. He makes no move to detach from you.

“Will you spend the night with me?”

He asks so shyly and cutely that you can’t deny him. It’s not like you were going to anyway.

“When am I gonna get fucked on cam?” You read the chat with a giggle.

“I don’t know.” You said as you smirk at the man behind the camera. “Whenever my boyfriend stops being so camera shy.”

Wonwoo bites his lip, smirking as you took off your bra. If it’s something you wanted, if course he would do it.

Because you’re his favorite.

taglist: @duolingofanaccount @felix-3002 @junhui-recs @asjkdk @dani41 @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @ohwonwoo

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kooktrash · 2 years

Text

campus affairs | jeon jungkook

summary: you transferred to a new college during second semester and you didn’t expect much excitement out for. that’s until jungkook came along and what had struggled to be a friendship was becoming so much more.

warnings: 11.9k. college au. smut. fluff. f2l. y/n is new. Jungkook is kinda tsundere. mutual pining. friendship. college life. bakery fluff. protected sex. make out. groping/fondling. hand job. oral [m]. riding. light dirty talk. very smitten characters.

He didn't say anything for a long moment. Instead he stared at his two friends blankly. They had huge smiles on their faces as they waited for him to respond. He wasn't sure what they wanted him to say but it didn't matter. Nothing came to mind anyway. What was he supposed to say? He didn't know you, he didn't care to, but it's not like he had a reason for it. He didn't have a single reason to tell them no when you've done anything to him. It wasn't even your fault he felt this way, he just did.

Even when you gave him a bright, polite smile he didn't react. You looked down to the other two awkwardly, "It's fine, I can find another group."

"No, we want you here," Sia told you, "Sit, Jungkook's just an asshole but he'll warm up to you."

"It's alright," you told her looking back to Jungkook in confusion and that made him feel bad. He didn't mean to have such a bored expression or make you feel bad. He just didn't like the effort it took into meeting new people. Hence why his closest friends are the two girls he's known since middle school and nobody else.

"Wait," he called out just as you were turning to leave, "Stay."

You looked down to Sia and Yuna who smiled widely pointing to the empty spot next to Sia. Yuna sat across with Jungkook, "Y/n this is Jungkook, Jungkook this is Y/n. She's new, you would've noticed if you actually went to the lecture today."

"I overslept," Jungkook said with a shrug looking up at the stranger now sitting across from him. Had his friends really befriended you that easy?

They did do it that easy. They were the only ones with an open seat in the lecture hall. When you approached them they were quick to get to know you. It was the second month of the semester and you were transferring Universities. The only reason you did it is because this one provided classes your previous school didn't. When the professor advised you to join a study group Yuna and Sia were quick to invite you to theirs. You didn't expect the other member of the group to be intimidating tatted guy with piercings—not that it looked bad.

"Here's my notes from the unit we just did," Sia said sliding you her laptop letting you type in your email so she could send you the documents. Yuna leaned forward from her spot, "So, any plans tonight?"

"Hm?" You weren't expecting her question considering you'd only met her an hour ago. Yuna smiled, "I asked if you're doing anything tonight? We're going to go out for chicken and Soju. You should join us."

"Yes! You should come with us, we'll go after we're done here and have dinner," Sia added on smiling widely in anticipation. They were like a dose of serotonin Jungkook lacked. Maybe that's why he stuck with them for so long.

"Uh, I don't know..." if it was just the girls you'd say yes. Why wouldn't you want to meet people this quickly? But he was making you debate on going or not. He didn't seem interested in meeting anyone knew and he already didn't look happy letting you into their study group.

Jungkook got up leaving to find a textbook he needed to borrow for reference to an essay he was working on. He roamed the aisle closest to his friends and only looked over when one of them spoke a little too loud. You were smiling now along with them, laughing about something he couldn't hear. Your face lit up when you smiled and it looked genuine. You didn't pay attention to him but Jungkook didn't mind that.

People never expected him to best friends with such lovely girls but that's just how things happened. He was in a rough place in middle school, his parents always fighting, his older sibling moving out, his grades dropping. He was always sad and tired and Yuna was the first to be nice to him. She let him copee her notes, sat with him at lunch and basically befriended him when nobody else did. Then of course Sia came along attached to Yuna and they treated him warmly. He wasn't necessarily a quiet person but he was closed off. He only let certain people in and they were some of them.

This isn't the first time Yuna and Sia have adopted a newbie into their care but they've never stuck around—or one of them would end up crushing on Jungkook and get mad when he's not interested. The only guys that came around wanted just wanted to sleep with them and when Jungkook would tell them off for it they'd leave. He hated hearing guys talk about his friends like that. He wasn't interested in either one of them romantically and he doesn't think he ever has. They're just friends, and they were bringing you along this time.

He wondered if you were gonna be like the last chick they hung out with, Soomin. Sia and Yuna were so nice to her but she didn't care for it. She asked Jungkook out and when he rejected her she was rude to them as if it was their fault. So when he told her off for being a rude bitch apparently he was an asshole. He didn't care, they were like sisters to him. His older brother took care of him so why would he take care of those closest to him?

"I have to work tonight," You had been saying when Jungkook got back to the table. Sia frowned, "Where do you work?"

"A bakery," you told her, "It closes at 9:00 thought since it's a part of a plaza that closes at that time."

"Do you get a lot of customers then?" Yuna asked disregarding her homework leaving Jungkook the only one working surprisingly. You shook your head, "Not really, on slow days we'll get like four customers through the shift and they're usually regulars."

"Tell us the name and we'll stop by some day," She said to you and you did just that.

The second time he saw you was during class, when he actually managed to show up. You were sitting on the inside of the row while Yuna sat at the end of it with Sia. He had to make his way through to get to the empty seat next to you.

"Surprise, surprise," Sia said leaning forward to look at him, "Somebody finally made it to class."

"Don't get used to it," Jungkook said with a huff making his cheeks round as he looked to you for a quick moment. You stood out to him in a pink knitted vest and shoes that matched in color. You wore gold jewelry and your lashes looked long, for some reason that gave you a more enticing look. You turned suddenly, catching him in the act of staring.

"Do you have a pencil I can borrow?" He asked hoping that would cover his awful attempt at being discreet. You opened up your pencil pouch shaped like a caterpillar with antennas and began searching for it. You pulled out two mechanical pencils biting your lips nervously, "Sorry, this is the only one I have unless you want to write with a pink pen."

He looked at the purple mechanical pencil with lavender hearts on it and a heart-shaped eraser. Down on your desk space was a matching pink mechanical pencil that must've been from the same pack and he took it. He had to keep his cover story straight so you wouldn't think he's weird for staring. He studied the pencil, it was cute and he didn't feel embarrassed using it. Every now and then he'd look over and catching you writing with the matching pink one. Sometimes he'd see you two if against your lip when you read something. Throughout the lecture he used the purple pencil, even used the heart eraser a couple times. He got some weird stares from some guys but when they saw yours they shrugged it off probably thinking it was a couple thing.

After class you packed up your things before he did and before he could give it back to you, you were rushing out the class late for another early lecture. With a small sigh he put the pencil in his black backpack and left with Sia and Yuna. The pencil looked ridiculous with his black and white school supplies but it added a pop of color.

"We should go to Y/n's work," Yuna said after her last class when she met up with Sia and Jungkook at the bus stop, "I wanna try whatever pastries they have there."

"Yes! I want to try some too, wanna come with?" Sia asked turning to Jungkook. He thought about it for a second. He could either go home and have some ramen, or he could go try some dessert. Never one to turn down food he hopped on the bus heading toward a different direction than his apartment.

In reality he didn't have to ride the bus. He had a nice Mercedes Benz waiting in his family home's parking garage left unused. His father bought it for him when he was old enough to get a license but Jungkook never uses it. It'd be another thing he's reminded of, how his family controls everything in his life. How they'll use it against him when he doesn't do what they say and he's just not interested in that. Instead he used his allowance for a bus pass and at least that way he can ride with Sia and Yuna whenever.

The bakery you worked at was very warm, it smelled delicious and it was pretty. That's what Jungkook noticed first. The glass cases were lit up with a yellow hue that illuminates whoever stood behind it and currently that was you wearing a cream colored apron and your hair pinned back. You smiled at the group who you'd gotten acquainted with this past week. Even surprised to see Jungkook had willingly come here when he's been pretty closed off.

Not that you minded him being more serious around you. You've heard stories from Sia and Yuna and they always made him way more lively than he is around you. You wondered if you made him uncomfortable or annoyed but this morning he asked for a pencil and the only one you had was covered in hearts. Still though, he used it and it felt like a triumph. He was clearly a private person and you had just recently started hanging out with the other two so there's not much you can say on that matter.

"Hey," you said when they got to the counter after checking the place out. There was a couple at a table and a few high school students at another but beside that it wasn't busy at all. Sia looked down at the bakery case, "I need you to tell me what's the best thing here before I buy everything."

"And she will," Yuna said peering into it too. Jungkook hovered over them taking a peak too, practically tasting the pastry on his tongue. You pointed to the one you liked and they each ordered one and Jungkook ordered a second too. "Can you sit with us for a while or do you have to stay behind the counter?" Yuna asked once they paid with your employee discount added in.

"I can but if someone goes up I have to go look," you said leading them to a round table leaving you between Jungkook and Sia. "This place is so cute, do you have to close alone?" Sia asked you as she cut a slice into the pastry.

"Yeah but it's not hard, it's just pretty dark by the time I'm off," you said with a shrug. You had a full ride scholarship so you really only worked for your housing and food but even that wasn't too expensive. You lived in a pretty cheap old apartment but it was close to your new school and you didn't usually get that many groceries. You worked three days out of the week and once on the weekends so with that plus tips you were making it. Unfortunately that just meant you didn't have much spending money and you had to work longer shifts when you were done with classes.

"Do you walk home?" Jungkook asked suddenly, speaking to you finally aside from when ordered his pastry. You shook your head looking back to him and the big forkful of cake he was holding up. He shoved it in his mouth waiting for an answer from you.

"I usually catch the bus," you told him making his brows furrow. The bus is like a ten minute walk from the shopping plaza and that meant you had to walk to it alone at night.

"That's scary," Sia piped in, "Please be safe when you're closing up."

"When do you work?" Jungkook asked looking at you again like he was concerned but you probably saw wrong. You told him your schedule which was usually Monday's, Wednesday's, Friday's and sometimes Saturday's. He nodded his head in acknowledgement looking back to his pastry as he finished the first one already reaching out for the second.

It's not that he should worry or anything but then he thinks about Sia and Yuna. They're like sisters to him and if either of them got off work so late then he'd be concerned about their safety. He didn't know you well but he couldn't imagine you walking home alone and some creep approaching you. He can remember your schedule, that way Yuna and Sia will feel more at ease knowing you won't walk home alone. Yeah that's it, it's for them not to worry.

"That was literally amazing, how do you work here without eating everything?" Sia asked as she finished up her pastry. You gave her a smile, "After a while it gets tiring but when we have extra dessert usually I'll take it home. I can take you some if you'd like, they'd only be a day old."

"Please!" They said unanimously. Just then the wind chime above the door rang and a gust of wind hit the table making you stand up lifting a finger to them motioning for them to give you a second. You left to the counter feeling a tug on your arm when you were walking making you whip around in surprise.

A smile spread across his face, "Not even gonna say hi?"

Your eyes widened, "Tae Tae!" Your arms flew around his neck suddenly making him stumble back a step as he caught you by the waist. The three you'd gotten to know stared in confusion and surprise as you and the handsome stranger started talking.

"You think that's Y/n's boyfriend?" Sia asked turning to the other two. Jungkook studied the guy a little closer, he seemed warm and friendly compared to him. Jungkook shrugged as he turned to look out the window lit up by large bulb string lights. Yuna nodded, "Probably. Y/n's pretty and that guy is hot. Did you see the way they greeted each other?"

He looked back to the two at the register. Was that your type? He looked like the artistic type, the kind who'd spend his time listening to jazz music and enjoying a piece of art. Jungkook preferred working out, music, photography and sometimes painting. It really depended on his mood. He couldn't deny how soft the man looked compared to Jungkook's harder exterior.

"Guys this is my most bestest friend in the entire world, Taehyung these are my new classmates," you introduced him like a pepperoni pizza with too much pepperoni [lil Caesar's lol]. Taehyung have a subtle wave as he looked over the trio as you said their names.

"Did you come all the way here to surprise Y/n?" Sia asked curiously but Taehyung just shook his head no. "I was in the area and stopped by."

"He would never go out of his way to see me. He doesn't care about me," you joked as you sat back down with the group looking back to him, "Pull up a chair." Taehyung shook his head, his hand going to the top of your head, "I've gotta catch the Subway but thanks for the food, Ugly."

"Because you're so cute, right?" You glared looking up at him but he only smiled. "I am."

"Anyways, it was nice meeting you, please take care of Y/n, she's a little slow," Taehyung joked making you smack his arm as he pulled it away from your head. He did a quick wave goodbye and left.

"Oh my God, be honest, is he your boyfriend?" Yuna rushed to speak. Your brows furrowed before a look of disgust crossed your face, "Ew, no. We met in an art study class freshman year of College and we became friends since."

"You're an art major? How didn't we know that?" Sia asked making you shrug. "Because we only take prerequisite courses together and since I've only been here a week and a half I haven't had a project yet?"

Jungkook wasn't fully listening anymore. His eyes were staring out the window where the guy had walked past. So you weren't dating him but you were obviously close enough for him to stop by here. How was he not worried about how late you'd be getting off if he's supposed to be your friend?

"We'll wait for you to close so we can all head home together," Yuna said checking the time. Jungkook nodded in agreement even if he didn't say anything.

"Jungkook! I said you have to go!" Sia yelled at him the following Friday night. Even though you had to work today you didn't have to close the bakery and got off a little earlier. Once your new friends found out they asked to come over for some drinks and food which was currently what you were doing. You're out of Soju so you all did rock paper scissors to see who would buy and Jungkook lost against the three of you. Now you were all arguing.

"I don't even know where the store is here!" Jungkook said making you sighed. "I'll just go," you said standing up using the coffee table for support. Sia pulled on your pants, "No, he lost he has to go. He's just complaining."

"It's fine, the store's just a couple streets down," you told her watching her let go of you so you could go get your wallet and put your shoes on. With an annoyed huff Jungkook was getting up too, "I'll go with then, that way you can show me which store is closest."

"Ooh can we snoop your art while you're gone?" Yuna asked pointing to the spare room you had filled with art canvases. You nodded letting them go and do that while you waited for Jungkook to finish getting his shoes on, "I can go by myself."

"I lost so I should be going by myself," he shrugged but he didn't tell you to stay behind. He held the door open for you as you left down the hall toward the elevator, neither really saying anything. When you got down to the front entrance you hadn't expected it to be so windy out. You hugged your arms to your chest for warmth and began leading the way to the convenience store late at night.

"Are you cold?" He asked after a minute or two of watching you shiver. You looked back to him shaking your head no. It made him laugh softly before he was coming to a halt making you stop too. You watched as he reached for the back of his hoodie pulling it forward until it was slipping off. "Wear this," he said holding it out to you revealing a white long sleeve shirt.

"Won't you be cold?" You asked moving out of reach so he couldn't hand it to you. He told you no but you were still reluctant to take it. Jungkook has slowly been warming up to you but you can't say you're as close with him as you are with Sia and Yuna. Sure, the four of you were in a group chat and study group together, and often times had lunch together but he didn't talk to you that much.

You face forward to walk again but you didn't even make it a step forward when something thick and warm was being draped over your head covering you in a scent of expensive cologne. Your hands went up to fight his hold as he pulled the hoodie down for your head to peak out. You turned to glare at him as he finished slipping the oversized hoodie on you letting you poke your arms into the sleeves. He cleared his throat as he took a step away from you suddenly shy with how forward he'd been. His fist covered his mouth as he looked away from you, "Isn't that better?"

"Are you sure you won't be cold?" You asked adjusting the hoodie to fit you better but it was no use. It was too big and it smelled just like him. You shamelessly brought the front to your nose, "You smell really good. What do you use?"

"Yves Saint Laurent," he told you, cheeks flushing red along with the tip of his nose walking next to you again. He caught you taking another whiff of the hoodie and it had him pulling his sleeve to his nose to see if he still had the scent on him. The store was in a more populated section of your neighborhood with more store fronts lit up and he held the door open for you to go in.

The hoodie reached about your mid thigh and the sleeves were way too long so you kept having to slide them up.

He grabbed a basket letting you fill it with snacks before going to the liquor section. "Have you ever had cinnamon caramel ice cream?" You asked him suddenly as you stood in front of a freezer filled with ice cream.

"No," he said simply watching you open the door and pull out a pint of the ice cream and dropping it into the basket. Once you had the Soju the two of you headed over to the register. You fumbled with your wallet reaching into the too big front pocket of the hoodie as the cashier finished ringing your total up and when you finally got it out Jungkook was tapping his phone against the machine.

"Have a good night," the female cashier said with starry eyes as she stared at Jungkook. He took the bags before you could reach for them and it had you tugging him back, "I'll help you."

He shook you off making you whine, stomping a foot in the process, "You paid, let me help you."

"No," he said as the two of you stepped back out, "If you want to help you could grab the ice cream and let me try it."

He liked how expressive you were. You didn't shy away from touch or stop yourself from saying things that were on your mind like when you told him his perfume smelled great. You proceeded to smell his hoodie, and ultimately him, maybe he should wear it more often. You also had lively reactions compared to his monotonous ones. It was like a breath of fresh air and when the wind picked up your hair making you fight to tame it, it made you look prettier than usual.

"You're gonna love it, it's so good," you reached for the small plastic spoon that came with the pint and popped the lid open. You scooped up a decent amount going to hand it to him. Jungkook tried sliding the bags down his wrists but they were heavy. You held the spoon out to him, "Here."

He bit his lip in thought as the two of you stopped. He looked down to the spoon before bending his knees so he was eye level with you and let his mouth open slightly. You pushed the spoon past his lips and as they close around the plastic his eyes locked on yours. Your brows raised, "Well?"

He stood straight again swallowing the small bite he took ignoring the sudden race in his heart before nodding, "It's good."

"Told you so," you smiled as you took a bite for yourself. The walk back to your apartment was quiet aside from the time you'd bring the spoon to his lips to give him a taste.

Jungkook noticed early on that he was really seeing you as a friend. He found himself caring about you the same way he cared about Yuna and Sia. The main difference is he found himself thinking about you even more than necessary. He wasn't sure what it was but you had managed to weasel your way closer to him and he was definitely happy about that.

He'll admit, he did get a little more protective with you when others came around. He wasn't vocal about it but he hovered like he was doing now but with Sia and Yuna.

"Thanks again for letting me borrow your study guide, some guy, Jimin, said catching up with the four when they had gotten back from lunch. Now you were standing a few feet away from them talking to Jimin, "Let me treat you to a meal. When are you free?"

"Oh, um," you didn't know what to say. It's not that you wanted to turn him down but honestly you're so busy with catching up with the semester and work. You bit your lip in thought, "How about I give you my number so we can plan?"

"Do you think he's her type?" Jungkook asked the other two curiously. Don't ask him why he was curious, he just was. Sia shrugged, "Isn't Park Jimin everyone's type?"

"They've been talking a while, should we just go?" Jungkook asked slightly bothered by the fact that you were still talking. You and him had class together next and he wanted to leave already.

"Why? Is it bother you that they're talking? You seem awfully interested in those two," Yuna pointed out making Sia nod in agreement. Jungkook rolled his eyes in time to see you and Jimin say your goodbyes.

"We're gonna be late," Jungkook said when you finally caught up to them. You signed, "I know, sorry."

"It's alright," he said as you two split from Sia and Yuna, "How did it go with Jimin?"

He looked over to you as the two of you walked down the stairs heading toward another prerequisite course you shared.

You gave a shrug, "It was fine I guess. I always feel bad when someone asks me out because I seriously don't have time unless it's last minute."

"Isn't that kind of worse?" Jungkook asked, holding the door to the hall open for you so the two of you could sit in for your next class, "Like always having to tell people you can't hang out if they message you last minute?"

You shook your head, "I mean, like I'm the one making plans last minute. I rarely have free time so when I do, it's unplanned and I end up just hoping someone wants to spend time with me."

He nodded in understanding. He didn't have the same type of busy schedule as you did. Frankly, he just didn't have to pay for school, or anything else. Maybe he was just spoiled but his parents pay for everything including a luxury apartment and a Mercedes Benz.

He already knows that he doesn't have to worry about work and supporting himself so he has way too much free time. He wishes he could understand you better but he also didn't want to act like he did because he didn't. He didn't have to work to feed himself or keep a roof over his head while attending college full time. But, in a sense, if you ever did randomly ask him to hang out because you had time off, he'd be free whenever.

You hated yourself for thinking Jungkook was so unbelievably attractive. It wouldn't be such a problem if he wasn't your friend but because he was you didn't want to think that. Despite it being close to midterms you've yet to meet that many people aside from Yuna, Jungkook, and Sia.

You didn't want to lose a friend just because you started catching feelings for Jungkook. How awful would that be.

You were too busy cleaning the inside of the muffin case to pay attention to the wind chimes, barely muttering a greeting at the customer who came in. Jungkook smiled a little at the fact you were clearly stepping on a step stool to be able to reach the case, "You open?"

You looked over, a smile spreading across your lips, "What if I say no?"

"Then I guess I'll just have to come back another time," he walked over to where you were passing a couple college students doing homework. He leaned against the front counter smiling warmly, "Hey."

"Hey," you breathed out finally getting down from the stepping stool, "What are you doing here? Came for more cake?"

"And other things," he shrugged looking down at the warm cases, "I was in the area and I had a feeling you'd be closing tonight. I had a sudden craving for some carrot cake and I figured since it's late I can just wait for you to close so I can walk you home."

"Well isn't that sweet of you?" You asked already sliding the glass and grabbing parchment paper to pick up the carrot cake with white frosting and a chocolate orange carrot on top, "Also, this carrot is so you."

"Am I supposed to know what you mean by that?" He asked walking over to the register watching you put the slice of cake on a small plate. He waited for you to ring it up but you didn't, instead sliding it over to him as you said, "You've got bunny teeth, did you know that? And you scrunch your nose a lot."

"Wow, and here I am trying to seem tough while you're comparing me to a fur ball," he sighed dramatically waiting for you to lift the counter top and join him at a table, "What color bunny?"

You didn't hesitate when you said, "Black."

He scrunched his nose in response, "That's fitting. Want me to tell you yours?"

"Have you been thinking about it?" You asked as he cut a small piece of cake with his fork and offered it to you. He nodded, "For the past two minutes, yeah."

"Cat," he said simply, "But personality wise? Puppy?"

"Why puppy?" You asked swallowing the bite of cake he'd given you. He shrugged, "Sometimes you're energetic and it's cute."

You tried finding a proper response without sounding flirty and when you came up blank you were lucky enough to be saved by the wind chimes. You left him at the table to go work and he sat back watching you.

Why did he feel different with you compared to how he felt around Sia and Yuna, speaking of which...

yuna: I'm hungryyyyyyyyy

jungkook: what's that gotta do with me

yuna: bring me food I'm on campus

jungkook: can't

jungkook: I'm walking y/n home

jungkook: there's a cafe by the bus stop

yuna: boo u whore

yuna: y didn't u invite me

jungkook: idk

He waited outside the shop while you finished closing. It was dark and cold out so he made sure to double layer in case you forgot a sweater again. When you came out he watched you double check the door was closed before turning to him with a smile. "Put your hand out."

"Huh?" He asked lifting his hand, "Wh—". You placed a pink hand warmer in his tatted hand making him stutter. "So your hands don't get cold obviously," you said taking yours out of your pocket.

"Well aren't you the sweetest?" He chuckled as he examined it better. It was actually white with a soft pink pattern. He looked at yours and yours was the same but opposite.

"Since you let me borrow your hoodie," you said making him chuckle. "Borrow? I haven't gotten it back, I think you stole it."

"Technically not steal, you knew I had it," you played along knowing he wasn't serious about it.

After some time of walking in comfortable silence it had to be interrupted by his phone. He couldn't hold in the deep sigh as he took his phone out reading his screen.

You didn't mean to snoop but when you turned to look at him you got a good read at whoever was calling him. It was a guy with 'hyung' added to the name. You watched him put his phone away holding his hand warmer a little tighter. It wasn't even a minute later that it was ringing again. Once again he hung up the call and once again it was ringing.

"Sorry, it's uh, it's my older brother," he huffed in annoyance as he tries locking his phone only to receive yet another call.

"Maybe you should answer it," you shrugged walking ahead a little so he could have some more privacy. With a sigh he clicked answer, "Hello?"

"Finally you're done ignoring me," his older brother JungHyun said clearly annoyed, "Dad is asking if you'll be attending for dinner tomorrow. Park Jisoo will be present."

Jungkook couldn't resist the roll of his eyes at the mention of the woman. Jisoo was someone his parents deeply wished he'd date. Her father is a CEO of an entertainment business that works closely to his family's tech business. Since they were kids they've been around each other in hopes that some day they'd marry and expand both business. Clearly that isn't happening if Jungkook has anything to do with it.

He looked over to you who was walking a couple feet in front of him and suddenly he wanted to get off the phone so he didn't have to hear about Jisoo. "Why? Are we having dinner with her?" he cleared his throat awkwardly looking back to you, "Whatever, I'll see you tomorrow."

With that he ended the call before his brother could say anything else releasing a deep sigh. You looked over to him with curiosity, "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," he smiled already catching sight of the bus stop across the street. He looked toward you, eyes landing on your red puffy nose from the cold, "You know I bundled up in case you needed an extra layer."

"Hm?" You stared at him as he held out his sleeve. "I even put extra perfume on for you. See?"

You tried ignoring the sudden race of your heart beat as he pressed the sleeve into your nose trapping warmth so the redness could go down. He was treating you how he treats Sia and Yuna. That means he sees you as a close friend, right? You moved his arm away holding him by the sleeve, "Smells expensive."

He smiled as he held you back from crossing the street unaware of the car coming by, "What would you do without me?"

Once you two were on the bus he sat down next to you keeping you against the window, "So what did your brother want?" You asked turning to look at him better. From behind you a couple girls were being a little too loud with their comments about Jungkook's looks and that made you smile trying to hold back a laugh.

"Oh, he wanted to know if I'd be attending family dinner this Friday," His teeth played with his lip ring as he looked you over.

Your brows furrowed, "He was blowing up your phone for that?"

"I guess, knowing my father he probably told my brother to make sure I go," Jungkook said honestly. You were quiet for a moment leading him to believe he might be over sharing. He knew there was nothing you could really respond with and that made him nervous. He doesn't share a lot about himself much less his family and he probably threw you off. You smiled, "If you eat something really good you better get me something from there."

He laughed a little catching the light hearted tone, "I'll smuggle something in my pocket."

"Ew no, then my food's gonna taste like expensive perfume," you said making him push you playfully toward the window.

Jungkook didn't even try and act interested in anything that happened over dinner the following Friday. With his phone under the table he was too busy reading messages in the group chat along with having an entirely separate conversation with you.

"Jungkook, Jisoo was saying something, I'm not sure if you heard," his mother had said. They were having dinner in a private room on the top floor of a hotel. It was a large circular table with his parents, his older brother and his fiancé, him, and for some reason Jisoo and her mother.

He looked up clearly bored with the dinner, "Mind repeating that?"

It's not that he completely hated Jisoo it's just that he knew she was in genuine. He's known her for a long time and she's not the saint she acts like in front of his parents. She wants to be in their good graces and Jungkook didn't like that. He didn't like being forced to spend time with someone he doesn't care for. She's a snob and he's seen the way she treats certain people in her life. She's beautiful, sure but he doesn't like her personality.

"Who has you so focused on your phone?" His father asked in clear annoyance that Jungkook mirrored. Well, currently he was talking to only you. "Y/n."

"Who?" JungHyun asked. Jungkook shrugged, "A friend."

"Well if she's anything like the other two always following you around, then I'm sure you can find better company," his mother said making Jungkook huff. "You don't even know her."

Ignoring him, his mother turned to Jisoo and her mother, "I have no doubt in my mind his new friend is only after him for money. He loves to take on charity cases. I try and tell him time and time that he needs to be careful over who he keeps close."

Jungkook couldn't stop the grind of his teeth. His mother had a tendency to act like this, make up her own assumptions and completely disregard her children and their wants. He didn't mind being bashed on, but there was no way he'd allow his friends to be bashed on too. Suddenly, he pushed his chair out raising to his feet. Everyone turned to him, "What are you doing?"

"I'm leaving," Jungkook said firmly as he looked at his parents in particular. His hyung shook his head in disapproval, "Jungkoo—"

"I'm not going to sit here and listen to her make her own assumptions about Y/n," Jungkook said honestly, a little surprised by his own words, "She doesn't even know about any of this. Unlike some people, money isn't everything."

His father made a sound similar to a snicker, "Jungkook, sit down. You're being disrespectful and I won't allow it. We have invited Jisoo and her mother to dinner and I won't let you ruin it."

"Jungkook, aren't you hungry?" Jisoo asked suddenly, "I'm sure they're only looking out for your best interest. Why don't we finish up dinner."

He scoffed, "You think you know them better than I do? They don't care about my best interest, they care about theirs."

"I'm sorry mother but I'm not going to let you insult my friends and force me to hang out with people I don't care for," he was rude. He knows it, but something about his mother's comments about you drove him mad. To top it off, Jisoo has the nerve to butt in and agree with his mom. As if either one of them knew his friends or you. If they got to know you they'd know you're hard working. You're humble and admiring. He's the one who always feels self conscious because you were clearly more independent than he was. But his mom has the nerve to say you're only his friend because of his money. When you didn't even know he was a chaebol!

He didn't give them much time to respond when he was already out the door. He was surprised with himself. He hasn't felt this defensive of his friends since he was a kid but then you came along. He clearly cares about you. But why does it feel so different from how he feels about Sia and Yuna?

They're the ones who got him through his family problems but you're the one he's trying to be closer with to ease his anxiety. Wait, stop, you're friends. You've said it before, you don't have time for much else. He doesn't need to scare you off with how clingy and touchy he can be when he's into someone.

Pause. Is he into you? Is that what this is all about? Can everyone see it but him? Is that why everyone was extra hostile tonight? He can't remember the last time he liked someone. He tries to steer clear of relationships because of his family and if he ever has flings they're lowkey. The second his mother started bashing on his friends, you in particular, he couldn't take it anymore. Usually, he's able to sit there and ignore them but this was different. They didn't even know you. How could he not get upset and defensive? Would Yuna and Sia be mad if he was into you? Oh God, he's crazy into you.

On Monday you got to campus later than usual, you were running late and already having a hectic morning. When you got to class, the lecture hall was practically filled aside from one spot near your friends and it had Jungkook's backpack on it.

"We saved you a seat," Sia exclaimed once you made it through the filled row. You smiled at her looking down to Jungkook as he slid his backpack off it pulling it down for you to sit.

"Hey," he said softly. His elbows had been pressed against the table with his hands in fists over his mouth almost shyly as he looked at you with sparkly eyes. You smiled, "Hey."

On his notebook was the purple mechanical pencil that matched your own. You pointed it out, "I like your pencil."

"I like you—r, yours too," he stuttered out immediately dropping his head in embarrassment. Snap out of it, Jungkook, you're friends. Why is it that all of a sudden he's acknowledged his feelings for you? Now he's nervous around you for no reason. Sia looked over at you, "Do you work today?"

"No, I switched shifts for a coworker. I work tomorrow," you told her already taking your things out, "Why?"

"I was gonna come visit you after I got off," she said with a sigh, "I was really craving some scones. Do you still wanna go?"

"It's awkward going to work when I'm not scheduled," you said with a little laugh, "And some of my friends are coming down for dinner."

Yuna hit Sia's arm playfully, "I said I'd go with you. Jungkook? Are you craving any of that carrot cake?"

"Not today," Jungkook nipping at his bottom lip nervously. Your friends were coming down to visit and he wondered if that meant that guy, Taehyung.

The topic was dropped and you tried focusing on the class and not Jungkook. You didn't want to stare at him like a creep but you noticed something was off about him. After class when the other two were too distracted to notice, Jungkook pulled you to the side. His hand was on your wrist keeping you in front of him and it wasn't until you looked down at the hold that he let go shyly.

"Should I pick you up from work tomorrow? Do you close?" He asked. You gave him a warm smile, "I do close but you don't have to pick me up. It's probably a hassle for you."

"I don't mind."

You nodded, "Alright, I'll bring your hoodie to you."

"You don't have t—bye!" He rushed when you started heading out the class waving goodbye to him and the others. With a deep, dejected sigh he turned back to the other two, surprised when he caught them staring at him clearly amused. Yuna spoke first, "Well, aren't you desperate?"

"He can't hide his feelings even if he wanted to," Sia laughed as they began walking out. Fuck, he knew they'd catch on fast.

In the evening when you went out for dinner with your friends you kept thinking about Jungkook. Why was he so cute today? You've never seen him act shy or nervous and yet today he was. You're not sure why but it was surprisingly cute. Seeing a guy who looked as intimidating as him act shy.

"Look at Y/n, she's got new friends and doesn't care about us anymore," your friend Yoongi joked after dinner. You were all sitting at the table still, trying to reel back down from how full you all felt.

"Honestly," Taehyung agreed looking over to you, "What are you thinking about?"

"My midterm project," you lied even though you did actually have to decide what it was going to be. You already bought a canvas and the right brushes but you're still iffy on the idea.

jungkook: want to watch a movie on friday after ur off

jungkook: or will u be too busy

you: what kind of movie

jungkook: what do u like

you: horror

jungkook: horror it is :)

jungkook: I'll buy the tix

you: are sia and yuna coming?

jungkook: they can if u want

you: it's ok

you: sometimes I like it when it's just kenskakamkas

"Hey!" You reached for your phone as Jin snatched it from you. Jin pressed his palm into your face to keep you away, "Y/n's too busy planning a date."

Your face reddened, "It's not a date. We're just friends."

Jin rolled his eyes, "Oh really?" He handed the phone back and you read the final text.

jungkook: ?

jungkook: it's a date then

"There," Jungkook said with a sigh as he showed his phone to the girls. Sia cheered, "Atta boy, Kook. I knew something was up with you the second you met Y/n."

"Same, he's like a puppy now just trailing after her. Are you forgetting us?"

On Friday, Jungkook was in front of your work standing next to a Mercedes Benz that made your brows furrow, "This is your car?"

"Uh yeah," Jungkook cleared his throat nervously once you were in, "I don't really use it since I live close to campus and parking is a pain."

"Expensive perfume. Expensive clothes. Expensive car. Are you secretly a chaebol?" You asked jokingly but his silence made the smile wipe off your face. But he had tattoos and piercings and he seemed so care free. Well, except the time he talked about his family. Why didn't you connect the dots? He looked slightly uncomfortable now as if you said something he didn't like so you tried to change the subject.

"So what movie are we watching?" You asked buckling yourself in, "I'll buy snacks since you got the tickets."

He shook his head releasing a breath he didn't know he had been holding, "Can't I treat you to this? You never answered when I said it was a date. Did you think I was kidding?"

"Wow Kook, I didn't realize you'd be so forward," you teased but he seemed not to be as playful tonight, more nervous than everything else.

"Uh, is that okay? That it's a date or... you know. I was just thinks because I, uh, I mean I like talking to you and-"

"Why wouldn't it be okay?" You asked cutting his rambling off. He looked over to you as he drove which only made you smile. When you got to the concessions you still offered to pay but he didn't let you. He ordered one of everything before the two of you went to the right theatre.

"If you're scared don't worry, I'll protect you," he said playfully now as he led you to your seats. You rolled your eyes, "I think you'll be more scared than me."

"Will you hold me if I'm scared?" He smirked, his mood improving from earlier, nerves going back down so he didn't feel as anxious. You nodded going along with the light flirting, "Are you always this cheesy?"

"Not usually, is it bad?" He asked digging into the popcorn before lifting it to you so you could eat from his hand making you laugh a little. You leaned into him, "You're wearing the perfume again."

"Just for you," he said reaching into his pocket for a small roller of the same perfume holding his hand out until you handed him your hand. He twisted it open before rolling the scent onto your hand, "Now we'll both be wearing it."

"Wow, I've never worn YSL perfume," you said honestly in short whispers since the movie started. He smiled a little, it was like this was your signature scent. Like for the both of you now. He'll make sure to get you some since you like it so much.

After the movie the two of you had a good discussion on the movie but nothing else. Clearly there were other stuff to talk about but you both were trying to keep it from getting awkward. You were alone in his car but you were still nervous to speak up, "I had fun, did you?”

"Of course," he smiled warmly as he reached out a hand to touch yours, "I know this might seem too forward but I’m really liking getting to know you more. At first I know I was pretty stand offish, it just takes me a while to open up to people. "

"Yeah, I figured but if it means anything, I’m glad I’m getting to know you more too," you answered letting your hands touch more by pressing yours into his. He smiled at that, "That's good."

"I know you’re busy a lot but what do you say about having more of these little dates?" Jungkook asked as he pulled up to your apartment. You didn’t anything as you began unbuckling your seat belt. You were thinking, obviously you had an attraction toward him but you had no clue he felt the same. On top of that, he’s suddenly done a big shift from how cold he used to be to how warm he’s been lately. After your silence became too much for him, he was calling out to you again, "Y/n?"

“Yes?” You responded back. He gave a soft smile, “If you want to just be friends… I won’t be upset. I mean I will but I also understand.”

“I don’t want to just be friends,” you said honestly. You liked hanging out with Jungkook too much. You didn’t notice it at first but maybe you just liked him too much. His lip was pulled between his teeth and you couldn't help but look down at them. He wanted to kiss you so damn bad. One hand was on the steering wheel and before he knew it the other was coming up to cup your jaw. Instantly you were leaning closer as he craned his neck toward you and then it happened.

Your lips met, barely brushing against each others and it had both of you inching back but his hand never left your face. Should the two of you just go for it? You've only known him for a few weeks but clearly there was something going on between you two? Even if he had been cold toward you that was only in the beginning. It happened again, this time more purposeful.

His lips pressed against yours parting them slightly and you were melting into the touch. Your tongue swiped against his lip ring making him release a deep breath through his nose and just as he was ready to pull you into him you jumped.

On your lap was your cellphone, it was vibrating with Taehyung's contact photo displayed on the screen. You pulled away looking down at the phone and Jungkook did the same, catching his breath for a moment.

"Hey," you said breathlessly, awkwardness beginning to set in between you two. Taehyung was already talking your ear off about something and you knew there was no reason to stay in Jungkook's car.

"I'll get going," you told him shyly and he nodded, "Text me when you're inside. Goodnight."

"Night."

Neither one of you were able to process the kiss until you were in the comfort of your own homes alone with your thoughts. What happened tonight?

It went on like this for weeks. It was hard to find time alone together with midterms, work, and school. Not to mention. You had to balance hanging out with your new friends, school work, and hanging out with your old friends. So far, you and Jungkook had only made out [a few times] but that’s it. Usually when you have free time Sia and Yuna want it all so then you end up hanging out as four.

You have yet to put an actual label on what you have with Jungkook but clearly there’s something there that everyone can see. For instance, he’s definitely gotten clingier to you. It’s comical actually, this big, buff, tatted guy making pouty faces at you when you don’t pay attention to him. Or forcing Yuna to scoot over so he could sit next to you. Always looking annoyed when some guy asks you a question. He was intimidating and yet so soft with you.

“You guys are so gross, you make me sick!” Sia gagged loudly. It was a Sunday and you were over at Jungkook’s having some movie marathon. Or at least trying to but it’s really just been all of you talking. Sia was currently grossed out by the fact that you and Jungkook started having a separate conversation that ended with a kiss on the tip of your throat.

“God I hate couples, makes me want to puke,” Yuna sighed making you look over to her with confusion. She only rolled her eyes playfully, “Don’t give me that look. You two are a couple and don’t deny it.”

Jungkook turned to look at you but neither one of you said anything for a moment. Is that really how you’ll announce it? He smiled leaning in to kiss your forehead, “We’re not denying it, right?”

“I’m leaving, I’m craving some chicken and you two are making me lose my appetite. God I hate being single,” Sia groaned as she got to her feet. Yuna was quick to follow in agreement, “For real. Y/n set us up with some of your hot friends.”

“Bye! Love you two! Use protecti—“ Yuna closed the door before Sia could say anything else and you couldn’t help but laugh. Jungkook laughed with you as he got to his feet, “They’re annoying.”

Honestly this is the first time in a while that you’ve had a full day to yourself with no schoolwork or regular work. Now that the girls were gone you were hoping to spend more time with Jungkook. Frankly you’ve been thinking about going further and the only reason you haven’t expressed it is because you know Jungkook. He’s probably waiting for you to make the move first because he feels like he rushes you, which he doesn’t.

“What?” He asked as he came back from carrying empty chip bags and soda cans to the trash. He looked down at you with a smile when he caught you staring. You lifted your arms up as if reaching for him and it made him laugh softly making his way over to you. You wrapped your arms around his neck as his knees pressed into the cushion between your legs, “Can I get a kiss?”

“As many as you want,” he leaned down enough to capture your lips with his, immediately melting into your arms as you made yourself sit up to give him more room. He was getting used to this now, kissing you on your lips, getting close to you but he obviously wanted more. He’s only keeping himself at bay because he knows how tired you are and he doesn’t want to push you.

Of course he didn’t imagine you to be in the same boat. It was only when your hands began to play with the waist band of his sweats to lift his shirt up a little did his body react. A small groan echoing down your throat that came from him due to your sudden forwardness. His lips didn’t leave yours as he started bunching his t-shirt up feeling your cold hands run along his abdomen muscles before having to sit back so he could pull over his head. The second it was off he was back on you, heads turning in opposite directions trying to deepen the kiss, his tongue tracing against yours.

His hands cupped your jaw, brows scrunched together in concentration just wanting to swallow you whole.

Somehow, he got you to pull your legs up on the couch, so he could kneel between them but it wasn’t comfortable and before you knew his hands were gripped your waist hard. He lifted you up, never giving you a chance to break away from the kiss, as he held you up before flipping you. You ended up straddling Jungkook’s hips with the way he twisted you around. With this new position you were able to press down on his crotch more, and that elicited a deep-throated moan from him. Smirking against the kiss, your hands rested on his chest, nails digging into the solid muscle found there. He was more undressed than you were and he needed to change that but your soft touch on his bare torso was heaven sent.

By now your breathing became labored and you could feel the growing wetness between your legs. It was automatic, your hips grinding down and having your denim-clothed crotch make contact with Jungkook’s growing hardness. The fabric of his sweats only served to turn him on, hands gripping your hips guiding your movement letting his hands trail even lower.

The only time they raised from your backside was to finally inch your shirt off wanting any layer between you two off. With deft fingers, he was quickly yanking the ends of your shirt up, sliding the material over your head while still trying to kiss you. You pulled away with a small laugh at his eagerness giving him the chance to take it off you. You were sitting straight as he looked at you with those sparkly eyes, hands on your waist looking you up and down sitting on his lap.

“You’re so pretty,” his hands flitted across your skin. You automatically tucked your stomach in, feeling self conscious suddenly. It wasn’t even dark out, the sun still shone through his windows and here you were shirtless with Jungkook eyeing you. He bit his lip, “All of you Y/n.”

His hands held firmly onto your hips, clasping tightly before slowly letting his palms slide across your lower back. His arms ended up wrapping around your waist and you found yourself face to face with him, your foreheads touching. Why did this feel so right?

“I like you so much, Y/N,” he pecked your lips lightly. You smiled, “I think you’re pretty too. And I like you so much too.”

His head lowered, lips connecting with your collarbone and peppering it with affectionate kisses. Your lips fell apart as your hands wrapped around the back of his neck keeping him put where he showered you in kisses.

His kisses led down to the valley between your covered breasts, hands coming around to press against the fabric of your bra. He looked up to you again as he move to kiss your lips as his hands began sneaking up your back and fingers quickly undoing the clasp of your bra.

“Are you always so soft?” he whispered as the straps fell off your shoulders. He slid them down your arms and you smiled when you flicked it off with your wrist, “Usually.” His eyebrows shot up at your response making him laugh a little before focusing his attention back to your exposed chest.

Without another word, Jungkook leaned closer and began to press open-mouth kisses to your chest. His hands snuck under your chest sliding his palms up until he was dipping a breast in each hand. You gasped lightly, playing with the ends of the hair on the back of his neck. He was being playful, squeezing lightly here and there, going lower with each peck until he got to the nipple. His thumb flicked at the hardening nipple, his tongue doing the same with the other one. You gasped, your spine arching and pressing your chest further closer to his touch. How was he so damn gentle and sweet with his movements? When you look at him you can’t help but feel intimidated. Yet he holds you with such tenderness and care and it felt soft the way you two talked throughout this so far.

You couldn’t help but to jerk your hips, seeking out the friction that would bring you release when his tongue swirled around your bud. At this, you pressed down onto Jungkook’s erection and he became painfully aware of it once again. His lips were swollen and wet when they pulled away from your breasts, your skin prickling when the air hit the moisture that he had left behind on your skin. He was surprised by the tug on his hair angling his neck back before you crashed your lips onto his going straight for a deepened kiss that had him moaning into your mouth. His hands were still playing with your tits, pinching and your erect nipples.

“Jungkook,” you said between kisses, hands moving to his shoulder for more support to guide your hips over him using his gasps for air as signs to see what he’d like.

“Alright,” he said not needing to hear more from you, already knowing what you wanted. He wanted to do more for your body but that would require him to be a little rougher and he didn’t want that for your first time. Not that you’d mind having him use you however he pleased but he was clearly being considerate of what you’d be open to try. He lifted you off his lap and you got the hint moving to your knees, providing enough space for him to pull the front of his sweats loose and quickly slide them down his legs, along with his underwear. His cock hit his stomach with a thud as he kicked away his clothes.

Before he could move you back down, you were leaning forward, lips attacking his neck just under his jaw bone creating a soft suction on his skin that had his breathing hitching at the action. His hands were hovering over your butt as you moved further down his lap to palm at his erection. You started slow, a soft glide down the length of his cock with a small twist of your wrist around his head, moving some of his foreskin back. His eyes shut tightly and the groan that you elicited from him made you smile against his neck. You left soft little kisses as you stroked him, spreading the precum that dribbled out of his slit down the head of his cock. Everytime you applied more pressure, more came out until you were able to cover his length with it.

“Fucking hell,” he licked his dried lips, head thrown back against the couch as his hips met your hands, quickening the pace, “You’re going to make me cum before I get to be inside you,” he stopped you, gripping your wrist tightly, “I need a condom.”

You climbed off him watching him leave to his room, surprisingly a nice image seeing his naked, toned and tatted body. When he came back his eyes caught sight of his phone’s screen lighting up and passing by he saw a text from the girls but he couldn’t think right now. All he could focus on was the way you shimmied your jeans off watching the snug fit over your hips. You kicked them off and before you do your underwear next, Jungkook was pushing you to the couch.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” he cursed feeling bad for the way he threw you back with more force than he would’ve liked. You brushed it off, “It’s okay. You can push me.”

It made him chuckle but if definitely was a nice thing to know. He pulled your panties down for you as you watched him tear into the condom. He picked you up again so that he could sit and place your over his lap. Jungkook cupped your jaw, his smile still on his lips as he kissed yours, sweetly and slowly. His tongue licked inside your mouth, exploring slowly as he pressed you closer to his chest feeling the dip on where your tits were and feeling your hardened nipples had him grunting in approval.

You felt his hard length press against your hip, you grasped his length and aligned it with your wet slit. His hand went over your hip watching in anticipation for when you’d let him slip inside you. His brows scrunched together as his lips parting making his face contort in pleasure as you slowly sank down taking his length inside you.

You knew this guy was attractive from his looks to his personality and yet right now that you took his cock inside you, he never looked hotter. He bit his bottom lip and held on tightly to your hips when you sank enough to finally sit on his lap and pushed your knees into the couch to raise your hips. He groaned into your neck, “Oh fuck, you’re so tight.”

Jungkook’s hands landed on your hips, grasping tightly as he began to quicken your movements, raising your hips a little more whenever you lifted them only to drop them back down hard. His head was on your shoulder staring down her back to the way his fingers dug into your was making you ride him deep and hard. You squeezed your walls around him, angling yourself to where you knew that the head of his cock would hit your sweet spot just right. You licked your lips leaning into him more rested your arms on his shoulders, barely able to form a full sentence as you moaned, “So big, fuck.”

One of his hands reached up, took a breast in hand and began to firmly fondle it, thumb and forefinger pulling at the nipple making your hips begin to circle in a steady rhythm trying to get him to fuck all your pleasure spots from your clit to your g-spot.

“Kiss me,” he moaned looking up at you as his thumb rubbed over your clit groaning in pleasure, “Fuck, I’m gon—ngh, gonna cum.”

“Cum for me, fucking cum for me,” he moved you faster, his hips meeting yours as they began to gyrate lifting off the couch.

“I’m gonna cum, Jungkook,” You moaned his name as you reached your peak, walls squeezing around his thick cock, hands flat on his chest to take some of the pressure off your shaking legs as you came. His hands were pinching your thighs with a loud cry in bliss, filling the condom with his load, kissing your shoulder softly. Still, he thrusted gently trying to ease himself out so he wouldn’t just drag himself out quickly and potentially cause you any pain.

You laughed softly, bringing your hips up until his cock had completely pulled out of you carefully. He made space for you, his back pressing to back cushion of the sofa as you both faced each other, laughing breathless alongside you.

He looked over to you, head rolling to the side to face you better. Jungkook release soft pants trying to catch his breath bringing his hand up to the back of your head. He brought you close to him pressing a kiss in your hair, “You okay?”

“Yes,” you said moving to stand up, “But I need to use the bathroom.”

He let you go taking your clothes with you and he sat back trying to clean himself up too. He cleaned up with everything in time to catch you coming back out fully dressed. You gave each other shy smiles as you turned to head back in the living room unsure of what to do with yourselves. When he came back to you, he’d just gotten onto the couch when his phone was lighting up.

The group chat appearing on his screen but he ignored it. He already knew it was Sia and Yuna probably to ask them to hang out again. It’s crazy how they were the ones to call them out as a couple when neither of you could bring yourselves to admit it.

Your eyes met and he broke out into a smile, “What are you thinking?”

“I’m hungry,” you said with a little laugh that had him laughing too. Your hand was on the cushion and he reached for it taking it in his own hand. He lifted a brow, “What do you want to eat?”

“Pizza,” that made him roll his eyes playfully speaking with a smile. “We had that yesterday but we can get it. Do you want to order or eat out?”

“Order,” you said with a shrug as his shoulder pressed against yours. He nodded taking his phone out ready to order the food when he finally got a good look at the texts.

sia: I forgot my wallet at ur place

sia: helllllloooooo

sia: let me up

sia: I know y’all are there

sia: ew wait

sia: u suck

He laughed as he read over her last text that she’d be back tomorrow. She must’ve realized what distract you two so much because she left him alone after that.

He had another text from his brother apologizing for not sticking up for him at dinner the other night.

Jungkook will admit he was still upset over that, mostly that they’d all judge you before even getting to know you. He liked you not whoever his parents wanted him to be with and nothing would make him change his mind.

Nothing makes him happier than the fact you transferred to his school earlier this semester.

::.

tag list: @poopiedookieballz [lol the name] @ughitsvicky @prettyvjrd-blog @screamertannie @kimyishin

like Can we talk about looks like they could kill you, is acc a tsundere cinnamon roll?

that would be Jungkook here

I decided to do something sweet bc lately my fics for Jungkook have been having a lot of angst

and omg I had time three different stories going on for this post and I just couldn’t focus until this week lol

#kpop #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #kim taehyung #bts #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #park jimin #bts smut

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macfrog · 8 months

Text

call me

idea came to me in a dream. enjoy also! i made a notifs blog! taglist life is NOT for me, babies. feel free to head on over, follow and turn notifs on to be updated anytime i post! 👉 @macfroglets 👈 you’re gonna wanna do it before this sunday…😉🤠

inspired by @bageldaddy who is the author of the dreamiest series on this site, my biggest crush, and also told me not to tag her but i respect my elders so.

pairing: joel miller x call girl!reader

summary: you moonlight as a call girl, receiving mediocre call after mediocre call. one night, one joel miller dials in, and grants you the most exciting ten minutes of your career

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) this fic is pro-sex work. reader is a phone sex operator, mentions of anal and oral, dirty talk, couple mentions of daddy, praise kink, mutual masturbation, alcohol consumption, cursing

word count: 3k

main masterlist

“What now, baby?” you whisper, laughing to yourself. You’re palming at your breast, your fingers pulling in around your nipple. Your core begins to throb. “You’re gonna touch yourself.” “That what you want?” “’s what I want, angel. Do it for me.”

It started out as a joke, if you’re being honest.

A wine-drunk night with Liv, sat at opposite ends of the couch, legs intertwined somewhere in the middle of the cushions. Her blouse was stained pink – your fault, apparently, for making her laugh too hard. Her glass tilted a fraction too far and before you knew it, you owed her a new shirt.

“Say it again, say it how he said it,” she snorted, patting her chest down with the damp towel you’d handed her.

“…quite frankly, disappointed with your performance,” your head tilted back and forth, mocking the nasally voice of your fifty-one-year-old, receding-hairline-equipped boss. Ex-boss. Asshole.

“Oh, fuck,” she heaved, still catching her breath. “That’s so fucking funny.”

You sighed in agreement.

“So…what are you actually gonna do now?”

You shrugged. “Sell my body.”

“Dare you.”

“I would.”

“I know you would. And you’d be good at it, too. ‘s why I’m telling you to do it.”

You kicked her ankle. “I got bills to pay, dude.”

“What about one of those call girls?”

And, well. That was that.

You’d googled it after seeing her off to her own apartment, watching her wobbly form stagger across the hall and stab her key a few times into the wood before it landed in the lock. The door closed with an accidental slam which echoed up the stone stairwell, and you crept back to your own place.

Palms either side of your laptop on the counter, face lit in a blue glow, dripdripdrip of your busted tap echoing around your dark kitchen. They asked for an email address – you used the one you’d made up before you realized email addresses were permanent – and a phone number. Said someone would call you to discuss it. You shrugged, hit Sign up and went to bed.

Within hours, you’d spoken to some sharp-accented woman who asked quick, snappy questions and uhuhed her way through your answers. Her name was Erica. She told you she’d look after you, told you to call her with any questions or concerns you had.

All she wanted from you were the basics: you liked sex, you masturbated, you knew how to dirty talk. You sorta knew your way around things like anal, and could manage a convincing pitch for things of a more…exploratory nature.

And then she asked when you wanted to start. You told her that night.

Your first caller – like, ever – was some guy with a midwestern accent who asked you to narrate fucking him. Like, spanking him with a paddle, calling him a bad, bad boy. You threw your nerves to the wind and went along with it, and honestly, had a pretty rad time. He was cool.

But one was enough for your first night. You logged out and went to bed. You told Liv the next morning, and she punched your arm a little too hard and yelled, That’s my fuckin’ girl! Was it hot? Did you…y’know?

No. You never get that lucky. Some calls you can lie idly on your couch and let your limp hand surf beneath the hem of your underwear, push lazy circles against your clit as the dude moans in your ear or gasps when you whine.

Sometimes their mics can pick up the faint sound of them jacking off, and your brain slips you an image that makes your stomach flutter. Sometimes you’ll hang up and take yourself the whole nine yards with your laptop sitting on your mattress, porn on the screen, and your vibrator between your open legs.

It’s pretty intense work. Sometimes.

But all in all: no. You never…y’know.

One week in, you were cooking dinner whilst telling Trevor – thirty-nine, Buffalo, New York – how you’d take his huge, throbbing dick in your throat and let him fuck it. He asked to hear how turned on you were, just talking about it. You lowered your phone down to the pot of macaroni and gave it a stir.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned down the line, “you’re so fuckin’ wet right now, huh?”

Huh.

Tonight, you had pizza rolls. Less sexy.

You just got off another call. Thirty minutes of describing how good you’d take him up your ass. You’re bored, turned off by this point, and tired. It’s almost 3AM.

You pace around your apartment, flicking switches off and tossing cushions back into place. Spilling small sips of wine from your glass onto your tongue as you’re plunged into darkness, one click at a time.

You don’t get much while the sun’s up. Most days, nothing at all. That works for you, though. You can run errands, grab groceries, do sweet-fucking-nothing whilst waiting for the influx of calls that will inevitably come your way by nightfall. When the streetlights come on, the rush hour traffic dies out front, the shuffling of tired feet up the concrete staircase outside your front door slows down – you just log in, and your cell will eventually start to ring.

Your cell, which now lies wedged between the couch cushions. You notice the sound of it vibrating as you’re pulling your curtains closed. Half-way shut, you desert them and wander over. Intrigued.

No Caller ID. The usual. You swipe right. The robotic voice tells you there’s a request on your account for a ten-minute call. Tells you to dial 1 to accept, or hang up.

Ten minutes? At three in the morning?

Usually, at this time of night, they’re longer. They’re drunk, or their partner finally fell asleep, or they just want your attention for a bit. See them through the uncomfortably quiet night.

But ten fucking minutes?

Ten minutes would make you somewhere around thirty-five dollars. They had the option as the timer ran out to extend the call, if they wanted. Most of them did. And that worked fine for you.

You’re unemployed. Who knows what money you’ll have in a week’s time? An extra thirty bucks – probably more – right before bed? A little nightcap?

You dial in and answer the call.

He doesn’t say anything when it connects. You hear the ruffling of clothes.

Your voice naturally dips a couple octaves, coats in something smooth and husky. Glistening, gleaming, sex-driven. “Hello?”

He clears his throat. His voice is deep, rich. More vibration than speech. He speaks with a Southern drawl, like bare skin running over silken sheets. It’s smooth, and sensual, and sexy. “Evenin’.”

You knock the last light switch off with your hip and doddle through to your bedroom. Mornin’, actually. “Hi. What’re you after, baby?”

He takes a beat to reply. More ruffling. He chuckles a little before he says it. “Baby? That what you wanna call me?”

Your glass scrapes softly across your nightstand. You bounce down on your mattress, springs moaning as you roll onto your stomach. Knees bent, your ankles link in the air. “What do you want me to call you?”

“Guess we can figure that one out together.”

“Alright. I like a challenge. You wanna start with your name?”

Another pause. He sucks in a deep breath. “Joel.”

“Joel,” you repeat, thumb picking at your nailbeds. “That’s a sexy name.”

He doesn’t respond. Just gives a non-committal grunt, and a smile pulls across your lips.

“What are you into, Joel?”

He sniffs. “Thought we could figure that out, too.”

Something in the way he says it, the curve in the words, maybe, tells you he knows damn well what he’s into. What he means is: you can figure that out by yourself.

Like you said: you like a fucking challenge.

“You like nicknames? Daddy? That kinda thing?”

A low growl passes his lips. “Not this early on, I don’t.”

You know from the hitch in his voice that he likes it. That little catch at the bottom of his throat, the way the words stumble on their way up. Know you’ve plucked a string deep inside.

“Well, you know you only got ten minutes, right?”

“I’m aware.”

“’kay,” you sing, flipping your hair over your shoulder. You exhale, drawing shapes on the pattern of your bedsheets. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re thinkin’ about, then? What’s on your mind, cowboy?”

Cowboy. It’s the accent. He sounds Texan, or something. His words float through the receiver all wound, coiled up and tight.

Joel doesn’t seem to care. He answers your question truthfully.

“Thinkin’ about what you’re doin’ right now.”

You smirk. Sometimes you like the attention, too. You turn your head, check the clock by your bed. Two minutes have passed.

“I’m…lying in bed, in the dark. Had a couple wines, feelin’ pretty good. But this is all about you, so.”

He chuckles softly. “’m lyin’ in bed, too. In the dark.”

“You feelin’ lonely?”

He takes another deep breath. You figure he does this before he gives most answers. He sounds the contemplative type. Always double, triple checking his sentences before he lets them go.

“Just need somethin’ to take the edge off.”

“Okay,” you breathe, “let me. What do you need?”

There’s a long break between the end of your question and the sound he makes before he answers. You pull the phone from your ear and glance at the screen to make sure it’s still connected. Time says another two minutes have passed.

Joel grumbles. It echoes around your ear like thunder in the distance. “You touchin’ yourself?” he eventually asks.

“Uhuh,” you reply, nails picking at a loose thread on your comforter.

“Yeah? How’s it feel?”

“Good,” you mewl, tugging at the seam. Your teeth grit as you yank at it. “So – fucking – good.”

There’s another growl from the other end. It vibrates through your speaker, purrs in your ear.

“You ain’t fuckin’ touchin’ yourself.”

Your hand stops. Your eyes stick on the thread. “I am.”

“You are?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me how.”

You roll your eyes, turning onto your back. Your fingers play with the buttons of your shirt. Fuckin’ – tell me how. “I’m…” you sigh, “…I’m laying in bed, on my back. My hands are –”

“What you wearin’?”

“Isn’t that the sorta stuff you oughta ask when I first pick up?”

He speaks calmer. Clearer. You can hear the smile on his lips. “’m askin’ you now. What you wearin’, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. So he’s that type. Whatever. He’s kind of pissing you off.

“A shirt. And socks. And panties. No bra.”

“’n where you touchin’ yourself?”

You huff. “Between my –”

“Watch the attitude.”

You almost fucking laugh. Your breath escapes your chest in a silent burst. “Between my legs,” you tell him, flat and annoyed.

“Mhm. Above or beneath the panties?”

“Beneath, daddy.”

A tiny groan passes his lips. He doesn’t mean for it to, and a second, angry grumble follows, like he’s pissed at himself for letting it slip.

You take a lock of hair and twirl it around your finger, pulling tight until the tip whitens. “You touching yourself?” you ask, voice sickly sweet.

Joel ignores you. “Take it off. The shirt,” he clarifies, when you don’t answer.

You shuffle around a little, making sure he can hear the movement. You unbutton the shirt until it’s lying loose over your breasts, then tug it down over one shoulder.

“Alright,” you tell him with a heavy breath, laying back on the mattress, “it’s off.”

“Yeah?” he asks, and your eyes flutter closed.

“Mhm.”

Joel chuckles under his breath. “Know when you’re lyin’, angel. Take – it – off. Don’t be a brat about it.”

This is half the game for him, you realize. This is his thing. He gives commands, you disobey them, and he kicks you into line. Tells you to behave.

You figure you like it almost as much, going by the heat pooling between your legs.

Your shoulders lift and you tug the shirt over them, tossing it to the floor. You lie back, bare against the sheets, and your hand instantly cups over your breast.

“Better,” Joel breathes.

“What now, baby?” you whisper, laughing to yourself. You’re palming at your breast, your fingers pulling in around your nipple. Your core begins to throb.

“You’re gonna touch yourself.”

“That what you want?”

“’s what I want, angel. Do it for me.”

You don’t take much more convincing. Your hand slips down your front, cups over your mound. You gasp when your fingertips brush against your clit.

Joel hears. “Yeah,” he hums, “’s a good girl. Take those panties off ‘n rub that pretty little clit for me.”

Your fingertips give one last kiss to the fabric of your panties. Your mouth tips open a fraction. You suck in a quiet breath, and push your hips up off the bed. The lace slips down your thighs in one motion.

Joel’s grunting steadily now, small noises slipping past his lips and into your ear. You spread your legs and push against your bud again, massaging the sensitive skin.

“Fuck, Joel,” you whine, and he groans in response.

“I know, I know,” he’s saying, and you hear the metal tinkle of his belt buckle. The fraying sound of denim being shifted. One slow, relief-filled groan.

His hands are on his cock.

You’d put more effort into caring that he’s been fully clothed this entire time, if you could think straight. You’re applying more pressure to your clit, rubbing faster, harder, then letting your fingers drift downward, move between your gleaming folds.

“Wish I was there with you so bad,” Joel purrs, and your eyes flutter open.

“Yeah?” you choke.

“Yeah.”

“What would you – do to me?”

He shudders. “Would fuck you real good, sweetheart.”

“Fuck,” you breathe, fingers circling faster.

There’s a gentle tugging; a rhythmic breathing. The odd break in his voice when his hand tightens, or you make a sweet little sound, or he catches himself giving too much away.

“Fuckin’ – be all over you. Nice ‘n hard. You want that?”

“Mhm,” you mewl, panting. “Want it so bad.”

“Yeah, you do,” Joel says. You can hear the sticky sound of his precum, leaking from his tip and running between his fingers, being pumped down his shaft by his fist. “Feels good, angel, don’t it? When you do what you’re told?”

“Y-eah,” you whisper.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and you picture a tight fist choking a thick cock. Picture that same fist unwinding, curving around your mound, fingers pushing deep inside you.

“Joel,” you whimper, and your fingers move down again, dipping nearer your tight, wet hole.

He grunts in response. “Don’t – not yet,” he tells you.

You whine.

“You got somethin’ else to use?” he asks, then interrupts before you can answer. “Yeah, you do. Go get it, sweetheart. Tell me what you got.”

“V-vibrator,” you mumble, hoisting yourself up and lunging across the bed to your nightstand. You haul the drawer open and sift between balled-up socks until you’re clutching the long, thick shape, fingers tight around the dips and curves.

“Let me hear it, angel.”

You click the button and the toy whirrs to life, vibrating strongly in your hand.

Joel hisses. “Alright, sweetheart, lie back. Gonna put it on that pretty little pussy, alright? Gonna make yourself cum for me.”

“Uhuh,” you murmur, one hand lowering the vibrator between your legs, the other holding the phone to your ear in a vice grip.

You push the round tip down to your clit and your head falls back with a loud moan. Joel sends one straight back at the sound of yours. It fades into a whimper, a desperate cry as you massage yourself with your toy.

Your legs clench as you dip it lower, letting the head nudge against your entrance, sending flutters of pleasure across your dripping cunt.

“Don’t fuck yourself,” Joel instructs, and your hand quickly pulls back. “Save it.”

This mystery man, who you’ve known for – if your clock is right – eight minutes, now; whose name is the most information you’ve gotten out of him; and whose face you couldn’t pick in a lineup…has such a hold on you, that your body instinctively reacts to his every word. An automatic reaction to do exactly as he says, when, five minutes ago, you couldn’t wait to get him off the phone.

You fucking listen to him. Save it for what? your head asks, and you ignore it. You don’t push the toy any closer to your center.

It drives hard against your clit, fast vibrations rippling down on the hot, swollen skin. It sends floods of warmth between your legs, drawing your arousal slick and wet from between your folds.

Your chest is damp, gleaming with sweat. Your breath cuts short in your throat, guttural noises replacing it as they reverberate through your mouth, across your tongue and into your dark bedroom.

Your walls start to clamp around nothing. You angle the vibrator so that it sends deep pulses across your pussy, shutting your eyes to picture Joel’s thick cock burying deep inside you as you climax with a loud, broken cry.

“Yeah, good girl. That’s it. Sound so pretty, angel. ‘s a good girl.”

You’re whimpering his name as you come down, holding the toy to your clit and letting your high wash over you. Your chest jumps, breaths heavy and staggered, gasping for air and then letting it rush out of your lungs in desperate pants.

“You know how good you are at that?” he asks, when your breath steadies again.

You giggle softly. “’s why I do it, baby.”

“Worth every fuckin’ penny.”

You sit in the post-orgasm haze for a few seconds, waiting for the room to stop spinning and your body to feel like yours again. You pull the phone from your sweat-stuck cheek and glance at the time. You have less than thirty seconds left. Joel seems to do the same, for his voice returns to your ear in a gentle, low whisper.

“Alright. Speak soon, angel. Be good.”

The call cuts.

----------

taglist: @slvbl @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @casa-boiardi @msjarvis @acornacreacure @totallynotastanacc @alejaa-a @aphterthoughtt @pedroluver @earthtogrogu @sexygaypalpatine @cool-iguana @serenaxpedro @lizzyervs @bitchwitch1981 @brittmb115 @stormseyer @scarletthefierce @patti7dc @pattwtf @atticrissfinch @pascalpvnk @lizzyervs @jediknightjana @jessie8605 @iknowisoundcrazy @caitispunk @vickie5446 @mrsquill @uncassettodiricordi @gracieispunk @hellishjoel

(psst! after this weekend my taglist is no more! follow @macfroglets + turn on notifs if you wanna be in the know when i post!)

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #joel miller x callgirl!reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal joel miller

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that-irrelevant-ricecakeaddict · 2 months

Text

Spoil each other

Sub!Mingi x F!reader cw:pussy-eating, nipple play, dry humping, subby!mingi, mingi eats reader out while shes on a work call, princess mingi :((, lmk if i missed anything out!!

Leaning back in your gaming chair, you yawned. You'd been working from home all day, mainly replying to emails from colleagues on the latest project you were leading. And of course, thanks to your incompetent co-workers, you were stuck reading your supervisors' notes and editing a large portion of the project. Sighing deeply, you rolled your neck in an attempt to sooth the ache there. The door to your home office suddenly creaked open, pulling your attention off the lengthy email on your laptop screen.

You glanced at the doorway to see Mingi standing there. Your boyfriend's large frame looked adorably awkward, wedged in the small gap between the door and the doorframe. His shoulders looked droopy and his expression pouty and sad. Paired with the sweaty towel around his neck and his lounge clothes, it wasn't that hard to tell that he'd came back from another exhausting dance practice.

"Hey, y/n..."

Your heart melted at his meek tone. He even sounded droopy! You raised your arms away from your laptop, gesturing for him to come over. Mingi gladly obliged, clumsily pushing past the door and walking over to you. "C'mere, baby," you mumbled, pulling him into a tight hug. He leaned downwards to bury his face into your shoulder, taking time to inhale your comforting scent. His tense muscles immediately relaxed in your hold. It was a little awkward, considering you were sitting and Mingi had to practically fold himself in half to cuddle you, but he didn't mind.

"Tired, Min?"

"M...mhm... the new choreo today.... was s'hard..."

You sighed, rubbing a reassuring hand over his back. It wasn't the first time Mingi came back so drained and pouty. He was usually the one to comfort and cuddle you after a long day of work, but neither of you minded it going either way. In fact, it was actually a treat for you when you got to comfort your boyfriend like this. And it would usually lead to him asking you for something else...

Mingi mumbled something incoherently into your shoulder, cueing you to tilt your head downwards to hear him better.

"Did you say something?"

More mumbling.

"Mingi, honey, words."

"I want... I want you to spoil me..."

"Ah."

A smile formed on your lips. There it was.

☆☆☆

Mingi whined needily as you slowly rocked your hips against his clothed dick. You'd switched places with him, asking him to sit on your chair so that you could get on his lap. He sighed at the friction your hips were providing, the drag of his boxers' fabric against his hard cock making his eyes roll back. His hands, placed on your hips, twitched to force you down and drag against his dick with more pressure, but he held himself back.

"P-please... more~"

You cooed at his desperation, speeding up your humping and kissing at his neck.

"This okay, princess? Want me to spoil you?"

"Ah, ah, ah-- y-yes please!!"

Pushing up his shirt, your hands found his perky nipples. He practically jumped when you pinched at them with your thumb and pointer finger.

"A-ah! Sensitive~"

"Aww, is the princess sensitive cuz I played with his pretty tits?"

You massaged his defined pecs, occasionally swirling your manicured fingers over his sensitive nipples. He let out a breathy moan, earning a hum of approval from you. Mingi's glazed eyes landed on your clothed tits. His big hands left your hips to grope them. You immediately smacked his hand away.

"What d'you think you're doing, honey?"

"I-I wanted to play with... with your boobs..."

Mingi's eyebrows furrowed sadly, strongly resembling a kicked puppy.

"Did you ask for permission?"

"I-I'm sorry..."

You caressed his cheek with your free hand, silently admiring how adorably apologetic he looked.

"That's okay, princess. Try again."

"May I...May I play with your tits?"

"Yes."

His eyes lit up in an instant, and he excitedly pulled your shirt over your breasts. You swear you saw drool come out of his mouth when your tits bounced out in his face. Mingi grabbed your tits and pushed his face into them. His mouth latched onto your nipple, slobbering messily all over your boobs. His hand palmed at the soft flesh, sighing satisfactorily against your warm skin.

You continued rocking your hips against his increasingly hard cock, dragging out another whine from him.

"R-ride me, please!!"

"Want me to ride you, princess?"

Mingi nodded eagerly, mouth still working furiously at your plush tits.

Reaching down, you freed his dick from its fabric confines. Mingi flinched at the exposure, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. He was too far into subspace to react properly. But just as you were stroking his dick and hovering above it, a chime rang out from your laptop.

You frowned and turned your head, just enough to see the screen. After all, you didn't wanna pull away from your needy boyfriend sucking at your boobs like a starved man. Your eyes widened at the sight of a call notification from one of your company's higher-ups.

"S-shit!! Mingi, baby, I'm so sorry, but we need to stop like right now-"

Mingi, however, didn't stop. He kept licking at your chest, hips starting to buck upwards in result of the lack of action. His thick tip hit your dripping cunt, causing you to whine. Out of desperation, you pushed Mingi's face away. He looked up at you, his eyes a mixture of confusion and sadness.

"Baby, my boss needs to talk... I forgot that he said he would call me around 5pm."

Mingi pouted hard, arms snaking around your waist to pull you in. He propped his chin onto your drool-covered tits. Soft brown hair tickled your skin when he tilted his head to the side.

"Can I please eat you out while you're calling him....? I need to taste you so so bad right now..."

Fuck. How could you say no to such a precious face?

You sighed, giving him the green light. He practically jumped out of the chair, shuffling under the table and propping himself in between your legs when you sat down. Before he could reach for your shorts and panties, you looked sternly down at him.

"But you have to be quiet, okay, princess? Promise me! I can't let my boss hear you."

He nodded eagerly in response, starting to push aside your shorts and panties. You looked back up at your screen, pulling down your shirt and adjusting your hair, before clicking on the call button. The poke of Mingi's nose at your entrance surprised you, but you quickly put on a straight face as the call screen turned on. The sight of your company's boss sitting in his sanctioned office flickered onto the screen.

"Ms Y/N! I was beginning to think you'd forgotten our, ahem, important call."

"Not at all, sir. I apologise, I was a little preoccupied."

"Not too busy to miss out on a scheduled call, I hope."

"Well, I'm here now, aren't I? What did you need to discuss with me?"

Your boss started to talk about the project you were working on. You tried to listen, but Mingi was making it increasingly hard. He started off with gentle licks, circling his tongue around the entrance of your pussy, licking up your arousal from your earlier administrations. But he'd started to get bolder, tongue moving faster and covering more area each time. Every lap of the fat muscle against your soaking-wet hole was driving you insane. He slurped noisily, joyful hums sending vibrations through you. You shuddered, momentarily shutting your eyes to compose yourself. Strange. Normally you'd be able to hold yourself back. Was it the fatigue?

"Ms Y/N? Are you listening?"

"S-sh- yeah, I am. Sorry, I'm a little unwell today. Please continue."

Your boss shrugged it off, continuing to ramble on. Now he was saying something about the project's budget? You couldn't tell. All his words went out in a blur. The only thing on your mind was your boyfriend sucking and licking at your pussy. The drag of his fat tongue working overtime to pleasure you. The occasional grunt that sent indescribably hot sensations through your pussy. The warmth of his breath as he panted against your cunt. It was taking everything you had to stop yourself from just moaning out loud. Shit. And you thought Mingi was the one who wouldn't be able to control himself. He got louder and louder, obviously getting into eating you out. You sucked in a breath when he made a particularly loud slurp. It even caught your boss' attention.

"Ms Y/N? What was that?"

"I- uhm."

The knot in your tummy was tightening at an alarming rate. Fuck it. You'd deal with your boss later.

You muttered a quick apology to your confused boss and hung up, hands immediately flew to the sides of Mingi's head, pushing his face further into your trembling pussy. His pointy nose dug into your clit so deep that it made you see stars. Mingi eagerly pushed his face into your cunt, desperately licking up your sweet release. His expert tongue lapped at your entrance, making sure not to waste a single drop of your orgasm. You sighed out, jolting slightly at the overstimulation, but nonetheless enjoying the sensation of his warm breath fanning over your skin. He slowly, and almost reluctantly, pulled away when he felt you tugging lightly at his tousled brown hair. Your boyfriend looked like a hot mess - emphasis on hot - plump lips covered your milky cum. The fucked-out look in your eyes made Mingi groan out loud. You could see he was painfully hard, too, but he was too pussy-drunk to do anything about it. You'd look after that later, of course. "T-thank you, y/n..." "Mm, don't worry about it, Princess¬" Mingi blushed, a red tint appearing on his face. Combined with the thin layer of sweat he'd worked up from eating you out, and the loving look on his face, he was almost glowing with adoration; for you and you only. He turned to look at your shut computer and frowned slightly. " 'm sorry about... about your call...." "It's okay, Min. It was about time I took a short break from work." His eyes lit up, clearly happy with being able to help you relax as well. You couldn't help but coo at him. No words had to be said about how much both of you needed one another, especially after a long day of constant work. The two of you sat in comfortable silence for awhile, before you tried to stand up. Mingi lightly gripped at your calf to pull you back down into your chair. He leaned against the soft flesh of your thigh, pouty lips matching his puppy-dog eyes. "Can we... stay like this for a little longer?" You smiled. How could you say no to him?

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez mingi #song mingi #mingi ateez #mingi x reader #song mingi smut #song mingi x reader #mingi smut #ateez hard hours #mingi x yn #song mingi x yn

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honeyedmiller · 8 months

Text

Law of Attraction — Chapter Two: Exposition

series masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

rating: 18+, minors dni.

warnings: professor!Joel, student!reader, (consensual) professor x student relations, joel miller au, reader is mentioned to be plus sized, drinking, jealousy, age gap (reader is late 20’s, joel mid 40’s), smut (m oral receiving, fingering, face sitting, unprotected piv), fluff, no use of y/n. 18+, minors dni.

word count: 5.3k

chapter synopsis: only one student gets chosen to go on an all-inclusive trip to the criminal justice expo that’s held at a different location every year. what happens when professor miller happens to be the attending staff representing the university of austin?

Your phone pinged in your lap, and you tore your eyes away from the TV screen to see what it was. You and your roommate, Adrienne, who also happened to be your best friend, were watching reruns of Gilmore Girls.

It was Saturday night and both of you felt like staying in, which ended up with both of you making dinner and filling up wine glasses before you settled in on the couch to watch the beloved show.

“Holy shit.” You say out loud, not believing the student e-mail you received in your inbox.

“What?” Adrienne questioned, gaze slowly moving to you.

“I got accepted– my application,” You started, completely dumbfounded. “I get to go to the criminal justice expo.”

“What? No fucking way dude! Isn’t that like a one-student-only type deal?” Adrienne questioned, turning her body to fully face you.

You nod, looking down to your phone again. You scrolled down the email, looking for the details of where it was going to be this year.

“It’s in California this year,” You say, chewing on your bottom lip to find out the attending staff from your school. You froze when you saw his name pop up. “Professor Miller is the attending staff.”

Adrienne’s face lit up, and she nudged you with her foot. “Are you kidding me? Free drinks, free food, free flight, and you get to bone again with your hot Professor?”

“Adri!”

“What? Oh, come on, you said that the sex you two had was mind blowing. Now you guys can, you know, fuck on an actual bed instead of a desk.” She snickered, and you rolled your eyes.

Adrienne knew how hot Joel was. She never had him as a professor, but people talked regardless. She was an alumni now and when you told her you two fucked, she nearly lost her mind. She told you to give her all the juicy details, and congratulated you for finally allowing yourself to have something like this.

You and Joel had been texting back and forth every so often within the past couple of weeks, and when it came to seeing him in class, he could barely look your way. He told you that if he did, he’d just get way too turned on to even carry on with the lesson.

The trip was over the beginning weekend of spring break, which was in a week. You sighed and toyed with your bottom lip between your teeth, contemplating on telling Joel if you were the chosen student.

“So are you gonna tell Professor Hottie that you’re going to California?” It’s like Adrienne could read your mind sometimes.

“Actually, I think I’m going to keep it a surprise.”

She raises her eyebrows, “Will there be a bar there?”

You look up the hotel listed on the itinerary— J.W. Marriott in Los Angeles.

“The hotel has a bar.”

“So what I’m hearing is we need to go shopping for a nice little number that’ll make him wanna eat you right up.” Adrienne cocks an eyebrow up at you, and you purse your lips into a thin line. You knew you wouldn’t win this argument if you told her no.

“I mean, I’m going back home. Might as well shmooze some potential employers too, right?” You crack a grin at her, and she cheers while clapping her hands.

“You’re gonna look so hot in California. Professor M won’t know what’s coming to him.”

The following week went by swiftly. Your flight left at six in the morning to Los Angeles. As soon as you got to the hotel, you showered and napped before you had to get ready for the convergence of the first night.

The black dress Adrienne helped you pick out defined your curves, giving you a sexy silhouette. You took your time getting ready. You wore your hair down, put dark brown shadow in the crease of your eye, dusted gold shimmer over the top of your lid, and painted your lips red. You slipped on your trustee black heels and gave yourself one last look-over before you decided you looked hot enough to woo the richest man in the room.

You knew Joel was going to be downstairs, as staff and faculty had to pair with students from their own school. He texted you that he’d miss you since he had to go to this event before spring break, so it meant that he had absolutely no clue you’d be here. Unless he did, and he was just playing coy.

You put your keycard in your clutch, spritzing your favorite perfume on yourself, and walked out of your room to head for the elevator. Your heels clicked against the wooden floors of the elevator, and the glossy metal surrounding you gave you a good view of your reflection. You hit the button to take you down to the lobby, going back to looking at yourself a little bit longer.

You felt confident if you were honest with yourself. You usually adorned your body in looser clothing, something comfy and casual that wouldn’t show off too many of your curves. That was just your comfort zone—but, after the way you’ve been feeling lately, it’s elevated ten times more.

The elevator dinged, signaling you were down at the lobby’s level. The convention room wasn’t too far off, veering to the right. There were already so many students and faculty members from all kinds of different universities, mingling and drinking and having a good time. Nerves overtook your body for a split second before completely dissipating when you realized you were the one turning heads.

You decided it was safest to head for the bar first, just to get a little bit of liquid courage into your system. You ordered a Mai Tai, graciously thanking the bartender as you slipped onto a stool and deliberately sipped on your drink.

You turned your body so your eyes could casually scan the crowd, but in all reality, you were looking for Joel. Not even a few minutes later, and you spotted him. He looked deliciously handsome, with some dark slacks that hung low on his hips with an aqua blue button-up that complimented his tan skin tone exquisitely. His black glasses that framed his face matched his shiny black shoes. But, there was just one thing.

He wasn’t alone.

Some woman, who looked to be around his age, had a gentle hand on his bicep as she was laughing at something he said. They were talking with two other gentlemen whom you didn’t recognize.

You felt it. The ugly green monster slowly crept into you, seeping into your bones the longer you stared at Joel and the woman. They actually looked really nice together. Someone his age, more experienced, and really pretty. Someone his type.

You sipped on your drink some more, hating how you felt this way. He wasn’t even your boyfriend or anything of the sort. You two’ve only fucked once. He doesn’t owe you anything, and he can see whoever he pleases. So why did this make you so uneasy?

You sighed and slipped off of the stool, heading to the check-in area to get your lanyard that was supposed to say your name and the school you represented.

That’s when Joel spotted you from behind. He could recognize those beautiful curves anywhere. He excused himself from the conversation briefly as he made his way over to you, leaning against the table. You jumped at his presence, putting a hand over your heart, which was now racing.

“Joel.” You spoke softly, and he looked confused.

“Darlin’, what are you doin’ here? Are you the student that got chosen? Why didn’t ya tell me?” He asked all at once, his words coming out in a rush.

You simply shrugged. “Wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, it’s definitely one hell of a surprise. Look at you.” He whistled, eyes trailing down your body. You looked incredible and the more he looked at his surroundings, the more he saw men staring at you. They looked at you in an almost perverted way, and Joel frowned.

“Thanks, Professor. You clean up nicely too.” Your smile is lip tight, and you’re secretly begging the alcohol to start taking effect. Joel’s eyes roam down to your drink, and he quirks an eyebrow.

“C’mon, I have someone I want ya t’meet.” He holds out his arm for you so he can escort you to his previous spot, where the same woman you saw with him earlier stood talking to another woman this time.

“Joel! I was just telling Misty that their food at the breakfast buffet here is amazing. Will you join us tomorrow morning?” The woman asks, and Joel smiles.

“Of course, Tess. I’d love to.”

“And who might this lovely young woman be?” The woman, who’s name is apparently Tess, gestures to you.

“My student in my criminal law class. The one I told you about last week.”

So he talks about you?

“Mm. Well ain’t you a beauty. Even prettier than Joel described you to be.” Tess smiles at you, holding out a hand for you to shake. You take her hand in yours, giving it a shake as a shy smiles comes over your lips.

“Tess and I go way back. Went to college together. She’s my best friend. She works for the FBI now, actually.” Joel chuckles, and Tess waves a hand to ward his words off.

“That’s impressive. Hope my background check came out clean.” You joke, and Tess laughs.

“She’s funny, Joel,” Tess nudges him. She then turns to you. “Lovely woman you are, sweetheart. This here is my partner, Misty. She also works for the FBI.”

Her fucking partner. You feel so stupid. Why the fuck would you be so presumptuous when Joel’s been nothing but honest with you about everything you’ve asked him?

“It’s nice to meet you, Misty.” You say, shaking her hand.

“You too!” She beams, and you can already see the sunshine and realist dynamic between the two women. “You should join us for breakfast tomorrow.” She offers, tossing you a warm smile.

“Uhm,” You look at Joel for a split second. “I don’t want to intrude, really.”

“Nonsense! You’re not intruding at all, sweetheart. I wanna get to know the woman Joel’s been gushing about to me all week.” Tess teases, and Joel’s face immediately turns crimson.

“Okay, Tess. Enough.” Joel pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head.

You quietly chuckle as you lightly pat his back.

“Didn’t know you were so fond of me, Professor.” You tease, and he looks at you with an amused expression.

Tess laughs lightheartedly at the interaction between you two, telling you both that she’ll see you both tomorrow before her and Misty bid you two goodbye.

You sipped on the rest of your drink, avoiding trying to talk. The air between you and Joel shifted, and you could feel the tension radiating between both of you.

“Let’s go get you another drink, yeah?” Joel offered, smiling softly down at you. You eyed your empty Mai Tai and nodded, making your way over to the bar with him.

“Another Mai Tai for her. I’ll take a whiskey, neat please.” He told the bartender, and he got started on your drinks.

“Lotta fellas lookin’ at you tonight, darlin’. Y’sure are stealin’ the show.” Joel looks down at you, then to the many eyes staring at you before glancing back to you. The amused expression on his face told you that he wasn’t jealous, but you saw the way his jaw clenched and the muscle ticked in annoyance.

Before you could say anything, the bartender handed you both your drinks. You thanked him and turned back to Joel, who was gripping his whiskey glass rather tightly.

“Are you jealous, Professor?” You quirk your eyebrow at him, taking the drink out of his hand before he could react. You sipped it once, leaving a red lipstick stain to coat the top of the glass. You smirked and slid the drink back into his hand, and his eyes widened as he wearily looked around the room to see if anyone was watching your flirtatious endeavor.

It’s not like you two would particularly get into trouble, because after all, you two were very much legal, consenting adults. However, professors sleeping with their students was a bit… well, frowned upon. Plus, the last thing Joel wanted was for anyone to think that you didn’t get into this expo due to hard work—which was the truth—but rather, by sleeping with him to weasel your way into the one student slot.

“Not here, darlin’.”

“Still didn’t answer my question, Mr. Miller.” Your voice was thick with lust, the idea of Joel getting jealous over you extremely gratifying.

You felt the stickiness of your arousal coat the thin pair of panties you had on, and you started to squirm in your seat.

Joel noticed this too, but he remained collected. “Yes, alright? I don’t like when others look at what’s mine.”

“Yours.” You repeat slowly, a small scoff behind your words. It came off as if you were unimpressed by his wording, but in reality, your stomach erupted with butterflies.

Joel leaned closer to you, not liking your response to his words. “Yes,” He hissed, “Mine. That delicious, tight little pussy is all mine, n’ I mean it when I say I don’t like sharin’.”

You swallowed thickly as he pulled back, studying your face. He took a nonchalant sip of his whiskey, smirk hidden behind the glass.

The smart ass in you wanted to tell him that it was modern times and you weren’t his fucking property, but you refrained. If that’s what it took for this man to fuck you again, then so be it.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Mr. Miller.” You crossed one leg over the other as you sipped on your drink. The bartender had a heavy pour, so you were quickly feeling the affects of the alcohol now.

“Not dangerous when I know how to finish it.” He grits, downing the rest of his whiskey. You sip the rest of your drink nervously, all remembrance of being a lightweight being thrown out the window.

Joel could sense the nervousness that overtook you. You hated yourself for making it so clear that he affected you so much this way, but who could blame you with the way he looked at you?

He nods his head toward the exit. “C’mon, let me walk you to your room.”

Your heart sank in disappointment. Surely his words were just teasing words, and you almost pouted at him. How were you supposed to tell him you wanted him to fuck you until you saw stars?

You silently planted your heels to the ground once more, and with the convergence still in full swing, you doubt you two would be missed. Joel followed you into the elevator, and you let your body sink against the wall. You closed your eyes briefly, exhaustion slowly creeping over your body.

“What floor?” Joel asked.

“Fifteenth.”

He pushed the fifteenth floor button, and only about three floors up, you felt Joel’s hand on your waist. You peeled your eyes open and gasped softly at the new proximity between you two.

“You know how crazy you’ve been drivin’ me all night lookin’ like this, baby?” His whisper is hoarse, dangerously low. A glint of arousal flashes across the dark pools of his brown eyes, and your body instinctively moves closer to his. You’re flush up against him now, breathing uneven as you try to balance yourself.

“Joel.” You whine softly, clutching onto the collar of his shirt.

“I know, baby, I know.” He leans down to kiss you softly, and you completely melt into him. It’s like your body instinctively morphed into his as soon as he got close enough. You couldn’t help it. You craved his touch, his kiss, his expert tongue like nothing you’ve ever craved before.

He was intoxicating, and intoxicated off of him you were.

He took a free hand to slowly slide in between your thighs, already feeling how wet you were between your legs.

“Fuck, sweet girl.” Joel groaned, and you whimpered when he rubbed your clit over the fabric of your panties. He moved them to the side, knuckles teasing your slick folds as you clung onto him for dear life.

You started to grind your hips onto his knuckles, desperate for any kind of friction you could get. Joel chuckled at you, kissing your temple as you used his fingers to pleasure yourself.

“Such a needy pussy, baby.”

“Need you, Joel.”

“You’ll get me, baby. Patience.”

You groaned as he pushed a finger into you, pumping it at an expert pace. You felt the tight coil of release building up so much quicker than you anticipated, and right before you were about to cum, the elevator stopped with a ‘ding’.

Joel pulled his slick-soaked finger out of you, slipping it into his mouth as he sucked your arousal off of his digit. He pulled down your dress quickly before the doors opened, and you were practically trying to drag him to your room.

You made sure the coast was clear before unlocking your door with the keycard, tossing your clutch onto the table beside the door. As soon as the door closed, Joel pushed you up against it.

You had a moment of déjà vu, feeling like you were back in Joel’s office with you up against the door as he hungrily kissed you.

Your hands tangled into his styled hair, greedily tugging at it. You moaned against him, pushing yourself off of the door to lead Joel back to the king sized bed in the middle of the room. The back of his knees hit the bed, and you gently pushed him down so he’d sit.

“Take this dress off, baby. I wanna see you.” You turned around so he could help you with the zipper, and he happily obliged. He kissed the middle of your back once it became bare, and you turned around to face him again as you peeled the straps off of your shoulders. You were moving slowly on purpose, giving Joel a bit of a sensual show before you wanted to make him feel good.

Once the dress was completely off, you got down on your knees in front of him and began undoing his belt buckle. He ran a hand through your hair, cupping your jaw as you fiddled with the button of his slacks next.

“Y’don’t have to, baby.” Joel whispered, searching your eyes for apprehension. You shook your head at him.

“I want to. Wanted to since the day I laid eyes on you.” You confess, and he groans softly as you tap his hips, signaling him to lift them so you could take the clothing off of him. You palmed him through his boxers, giving his cock a slight tug over the cotton material.

If it’s one thing you were determined about, it was giving Joel the best head he’s ever had in his life. You slowly peeled off his boxers as well, tossing them somewhere in the room.

His erection sprang free, head swollen and leaking pre cum. You whined at the sight, biting your faded cherry red lips in anticipation. You looked up at Joel who looked at you expectantly, and you smiled up at him shyly before taking his cock into your hand, giving the silky flesh a few tugs. You kept doing that as you leaned down to trail kisses up his tan thighs, free hand rubbing circles into his skin before using your tongue to lick your way up to the base of his cock.

You moved your mouth away from him so you could finally give the tip a kiss, kitten licking it softly for a few seconds. The salty taste of pre cum melted onto your tongue, and you hummed up at him. You took the tip into your mouth, tongue swirling over it before moving further down his girthy shaft.

“Mmph– fuck, your mouth feels so goddamn good, baby.” Joel groaned, cradling the back of your head with his hand. You moved your mouth all the way down, being met with the coarse, unruly hairs at the bottom of his cock.

You moaned around him as you felt him twitch in your mouth, and you moved your mouth back up while squeezing your lips around him. You continued this motion for the next couple of minutes, bringing your free hand to gently fondle his balls.

His hips bucked up, causing you to gag around him. “Fuck, darlin’, ‘m sorry.”

You hummed against him again as you looked up into his eyes, brow furrowed and jaw clenched.

“Look so pretty with your mouth wrapped around my cock like that, baby.” He was panting now, and you stuck your tongue out of your lips so you could lick the underside of his cock with ease.

Joel gripped the bed sheets with such sheer force that you thought the threading was going to rip. His uneven breathing was apparent now, and his head tossed back as he held onto the back of your head, moving it up and down faster.

“Fuck baby, ‘m gonna– shit.” He cursed, and you swallowed every last drop of cum that spilled onto your tongue. You let go of his cock from your mouth with a small pop, leaning back on your heels to look up at him. His eyes met yours after a brief minute and he hummed, chuckling while he shook his head.

“Christ, babydoll.” Was all he said before gently tugging your arm so you’d stand up. You looked so divine like this in front of him—all lace and heels and curves and a sex appeal he just couldn’t fulfill himself enough with. He needed you in every way all the time. He couldn’t get enough of you.

“You sound so hot when you moan for me, Joel.” You say, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah?” He pulled you closer to him by your hips. You nod, biting your lip. He smirks as you as your hands trail down to the buttons of his shirt. You undo them one by one before slipping the aqua material off of his body, leaving him completely bare for you.

“You’re so handsome.” You whisper, and he smiled shyly up at you. Joel Miller? Shy? That’s a new one. You concluded that he didn’t get told that often, so you made a mental note to tell him as much as possible from now on.

Joel moves back on the bed to lay his head down where the pillows were. “C’mere.”

You moved to sit on your heels on the bed next to him, and he tugged at your wrist. He brought you down for a kiss before mumbling against your lips. “I want you to sit on my face, sweet girl.”

You pulled apart from him quickly, puzzled and completely mortified. “What?”

“I want you,” He repeated, tugging you back down to him, “To sit. On. My. Face.” He emphasized each word, and you felt yourself clench around nothing at his request.

“Joel, are you sure? I’m– what if you can’t breathe? What if I’m too heavy?” Insecurity started to flood your mind quickly, and Joel shook his head.

“You’re not too heavy, baby. You’ll be fine. I’ll be fine. Just, please, sit that pretty pussy onto my goddamn face.” He begged, and your brows furrowed at him in disbelief.

You trusted him, though, so you sighed as you straddled Joel’s chest carefully. You shuffled forward before stopping right below where he wanted you most in that moment. He grabbed your thighs and forced you to move upward so you were hovering over his face.

“Sit.” Was all he said, but you hesitated for a second. His hands slid up to your hips, forcing them down so his breath fanned over your slick-coated pussy. He kissed your soft flesh over the lace of your panties, moaning at how your hips bucked at the slightest touch.

He brought one hand up before moving the lace of your panties aside, kissing your bare pussy this time. You moaned softly, grabbing onto the headboard before Joel licked a long stripe up your folds. You moaned louder this time, relishing in the heat of his skilled tongue as he lapped up your arousal. He started to eat you out like a man starved, dipping his tongue into you before moving it up and circling around your clit. His hands moved down to grip the soft flesh of your thighs once more, moving them back and forth to encourage you to ride his face.

“Use my face, sweet girl. C’mon.” His voice was muffled, but you got the message loud and clear. You decided to let go of your fears and started to grind your soaked cunt into his face, clit catching onto the hook of his strong nose.

“Fuck, Joel.” You cried, mouth falling agape as you used his mouth for your pleasure. He brought a hand down to your ass and squeezed it, moving his hand back to give your soft flesh a smack. You moaned at the feeling of your stinging flesh, moving your hips in circles.

Joel moaned from underneath you, shooting vibrations up and through your body. You felt that tight coil rapidly approaching again as Joel settled on sucking your clit once more, and you couldn’t hold it anymore.

It was like a dam bursting and the floodwaters came rushing in, unstoppable and forceful.

Your hips rutted against his face as you rode out your intense orgasm, crying his name like a prayer. All that was on your mind was exactly what was coming out of your mouth: Joel Joel Joel.

“Did so well f’me, honey. So fucking good.” He praised, bringing your body down to be leveled with his on the mattress.

Joel looked at you in your already blissfully fucked-out state, brushing your hair out of your face. Your eyes were glossed over as they stared at him, body still convulsing at certain points as you rode out the last of your orgasm.

“Think y’got one more in you, sweet girl?” He asked, and you were confused at his initial question before it quickly dawned on you that he meant another orgasm. The exhausted part of you wanted to say no, but the insatiable part of you wanted to be filled and stretched by his intoxicating cock.

You nodded your head, and he smiled down at you with mischief. “Good. Wanna see those pretty eyes of yours roll back when I make you feel good.”

Fuck, he was really going to be the death of you.

He moved to unhook your bra from you in one easy motion, tossing the lace item somewhere in the room along with the rest of the clothes already in disarray. He maneuvered himself on top of you, and you looked up at him with such adoration. He smiled down at you as he moved down to press a sweet kiss to your lips, a hand cupping your jaw gently as you two just simply kissed for awhile.

It was nice that Joel brought the balance of sweet and sensual to the rough and sexy parts of having sex with him. Though you’ve only fucked once before this, you knew he was a tender lover when he really wanted to be.

Your felt Joel’s hardened cock against your inner thigh, so you took it upon yourself to gently grab it and start gliding his shaft against your folds. He moaned into your mouth as your thumb swiped over the tip, bucking your hips against him to get him soaked with your sticky sweetness.

“You ready, sweetheart?” He asked, taking his own cock into his hand before lining the tip up with your entrance. You nodded, and he gently pushed inside you until he reached the hilt.

The stretch was just as delicious as you remembered. So fucking full that it nearly knocked the breath out of you. You grabbed onto his biceps, jaw slack and brows furrowed.

“Look at me, sweet girl.” He murmured, and your eyes snapped open to find his. He smiled down at you before he started to move his hips, thrusting slowly at first before he started to pick up the pace.

“Feel so good, Joel.” You mumbled, intertwining your hands into his hair.

“So do you, angel.” He moaned as you clenched around him, savoring the feeling of you so warm and wet. He continued the tortured pace of his hips for a couple of more minutes before you decided you wanted, no, needed more. You wanted to see aforementioned stars.

“Faster Joel, please. Need you to fuck me faster.”

“Needy little cunt.” Joel chuckled, and you nodded in agreement.

“Please.” You whisper, and his hips doubled in pace.

“This what you want, angel?” He asks through gritted teeth, knowing he probably wouldn’t last long if he kept fucking you at this pace.

“God, fuck, yes!” You cried, gripping onto the bedsheets as your eyes started to roll into the back of your head. The tip of his cock was kissing that oh so sweet spot inside of you, and you got what you wanted: you were seeing stars.

You clamped your eyes shut as the sound of skin slapping on skin and lewd moans from the both of you filled the cozy hotel room. Joel brought his middle finger to your mouth, and he didn’t even have to ask you to suck on it. You just did.

With Joel, it was this invisible push and pull that drove you crazy. It truly bewildered you how well your body listened to him without him having to say a single goddamn word.

He popped his finger out of your mouth before moving it down to your clit, rubbing fast, tight circles around it. Your body felt like it was on fire as your orgasm built up inside of you. The pit in the depth of your core was licking flames up your spine, ready to burst at the seams at any given time.

“Joel, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” You choked out, and he groaned in response.

“Cum with me, baby.” His voice sounded pleading, and you nodded quickly. You felt yourself come undone in the blink of an eye, Joel following suit.

You brought down Joel’s face to smash your lips with his, swallowing each other’s moans as you both rode out your earth-shattering orgasms.

Joel pulled apart from you and dropped his head onto your shoulder as he pumped into you twice more before pulling out. Joel immediately brought you into his side, stroking your bare back with his hand. Goosebumps raised onto your skin, and Joel smiled.

You both laid there for a couple of minutes trying to catch your breaths, enjoying the peaceful aftermath of it all. You turned your head to press a kiss to his chest, heart beating slightly faster at your subtle movement.

“I think this is the best exposition I’ve ever been to.” You teased, tracing patterns on Joel’s chest. It rumbled when he laughed, grabbing your hand to press his lips to the back of it.

“Gotta say, it’s definitely mine too.” He agreed, and you softly giggled as you buried your face into the crook of his neck.

You had so much to tell Adrienne when you got back home from California, and you knew she’d lose her mind–just like you’re losing yours as you slowly realized you’re falling for the man that lay beside you.

tag list: @cool-iguana ; @beskarandblasters ; @nostalxgic @pamasaur ; @untamedheart81 ; @joelslegalwhre ; @ilovepedro ; @sarap-77

#joel miller imagines #joel miller au #joel miller x plus size reader #professor!joel #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #pedro pascal imagines #joel miller #pedro pascal imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller story #joel miller fluff #joel miller x reader #joel miller x afab!reader

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1800jjbarnes · 7 months

Text

◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟕: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 ◇

A Gift To You

【Synopsis】 : Your sweet boyfriend wanted to share a soft moment with you. But your neediness had other plans. So he decided to take matters into his own hands.

『W.C』 : 915

-> Genre: Ceo Au. Suggestive. Fluff.

Pairing: CEO!Steve x F.Reader

[Warnings] : Teasing. Clit stimulation. Clit play. Thigh riding. Humping. Some use of fingers. Pet names. Vibrating panties.

Masterlist | Kinktober List

There were two simple rules you had to obey whenever you were in the office with Steve. One, always sit on his lap or couch, wherever he could have contact with your body. And two stay quiet unless told otherwise. You see, your lover boy was a very busy man, and normally, if you came over to his work space, it was to drop off food or simply be in his company. But this time, you had headed over to his dimly lit office for another reason. A reason you would normally wait until he was home to ask for. But tonight was different. Tonight, you needed him so badly that you felt like you were going to combust.

So here you sit, perched so quietly on his lap while his fingers click on a keyboard behind you on the desk, and his other hand rakes the mouse at a vigorous pace. You tried to be still and not disturb him, but you couldn’t help but just re-adjust yourself every so often. Wiggling your hips side to side, raking your hands along his shoulders. You were losing willpower fast, and Steve seemed to take notice.

But he wanted to tease you a bit, or in this case, torture you a little. He loved seeing you squirm and become all shy when asking for what you wanted. And in this situation, he, too, was craving for the perfect attention. He quickly went back to touching up the emails he made before closing down everything.

He paused for a moment, thinking back at the way you stomped into the room in your cute little outfit he had bought for not long ago, huffing for cuddles―even though he knew you wanted more than a simple hug―. He thought of a new idea, one that would get you begging for him. So as he finished up his work, after what felt like an eternity. He could finally give his attention to you. “I wanna show you something.” His deep voice suddenly caught your attention, leaning up to see what he wanted.

He leant over to his draw on his desk to pull out a remote.

His smirk never fell from his face as he adjusted himself on the chair so you would only sit on one of his thighs. you didn’t notice the sudden position, thinking it was nothing more than him trying to be comfortable. But when he pressed a button on the little pink remote, you knew the filth he had done.

He had asked you to wear this new lingerie set for him, and you thought nothing about it. But little did you know, the panties we vibrating ones.

His hands dance around your hips as you close your eyes to bask in the music around you. He took this moment to lift up your skirt seeing your pink panties wet against his dark jeans. You didn’t even notice him pull your skirt up until his thumb made contact with your clit making the vibrationhit you harsher. “Like the gift huh?”

Your eyes snap open, locking with his in a second. Your brows scrunched, gulping slightly at the sensation. His free hand gripped your hips tightly, pulling you back, then forth, in a way that sends pleasure through your system. “Show me how much you like them.”

You start grinding your hips without the need of Steve, bracing yourself on his shoulders. Your little pants started to fill the room alongside the low-based song. You could feel your pussy clench around nothing as your humps got quicker. His thumb didn’t move off it’s spot, letting you use not only his thick thigh but his large thumb for stimulation alongside the low vibration. Eyes rolling back, you found the perfect pace, losing yourself trying to reach your climax. Steve could tell you were going to come any second so without another moment his lips latched onto your neck, sucking a hard purple mark along your jugular that you are going to have to explain to your friends tomorrow.

“S-stev—, Fuck…” Your brain was in scrambles, and you couldn't get even a single sentence out before moaning or whimpering soon after. You were so close just a little further, your grinding so harsher and harsh, needing the blissful release, and when Steve clenched his thigh, you lost it. Coming so hard, you saw stars. He finally moved his hand away from your clit, letting you exhale a shaky breath. He wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you close into a tight embrace. He switched the vibration off shortly afterwards, now bringing silence into the room, with slightly panting and heavy heartbeats.

“So I’m assuming you liked the gift.” He asked, making you giggle sightly before leaning up to kiss his cheek with a goof smile painting both your and his features.

“Yes, I love it…”

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honey-words · 11 months

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spider boy — spider-man!midoriya izuku x reader

synopsis: you’ve talked to your neighbor a few times before and have waved at him on campus. But you’ve noticed he keeps really weird hours, sometimes hearing him go into his apartment at ungodly hours of the night. So when spider-man enters your apartment one night, it’s easy for you to connect the dots from there.

content warnings: mentions of blood/injuries, hints of angst, hurt/comfort

wc: 3.1k

author’s note: I believe in spider-man!deku supremacy :)

part 1 of the spider boy series

“Spider-man does it again! Only three blocks from the UA university campus, the masked hero—”

“You’re a spider-man fan?”

You jumped, almost dropping your phone and falling off of the bench in the process.

“Midoriya! You scared me.”

He laughed and you paused the video you were watching, a news clip from this morning. He settled down beside you on the bench, taking a sip of his iced coffee as he did.

“Yeah, I guess I am a fan,” you said. “Campus PD sucks and I think it’s funny a spider guy is more reliant than all of them put together.”

You both shared a laugh.

“I have to get to class,” Midoriya sighed, not making any movements to get up from the bench. “How’s Moony?”

“She’s great, thanks for asking,” you said, smiling back at him. Because Midoriya was the definition of a perfect neighbor. He had introduced himself when you first moved in and he saw the small cat carrier with a little black kitten, Moony, inside of it. From there it had been a pleasant acquaintanceship between the two of you.

“I’ll see you later, then,” he said, really standing up this time. “Bye!”

You waved goodbye as he left, then turned back to the video.

A thief had been running loose on campus for the last week, snatching cell phones and wallets from unsuspecting students on their way to class. Campus PD had found the thief this morning, literally on their doorstep with a sticky note that had a spider sketch stuck on his face.

A smaller feat of Spider-Man’s, but a good one nonetheless.

During your first lecture of the day you could see other people were watching the same video and reading the accompanying article. It was the first time Spider-Man had acted so close to campus, practically on the grounds of it considering where he had turned in the thief.

The person in front of you had a Reddit post pulled up, and you had to bite your cheek to refrain from laughing as you read the title. Spider boy or whatever is totally a UA student. Here’s my proof!!!!

Finding the professor’s lecture increasingly dry and dull, you decided to pull up the Reddit tab on your own laptop so you could read it, too.

By the time the lecture was over you had read the entire post (it was surprisingly long) and all of the comments underneath it, half-convinced of the theory yourself. It made some reasonable arguments—Spider-Man stuck to the surrounding city, usually went around at night, rarely seen throughout the day—keeping with the schedule of a college student. Sticking to the surrounding city pointed to the fact that he lived near campus. And the latest crime he’d solved was the cherry on top, because the alerts about it had gone out to all campus members since the incidents were contained to the campus.

The dull lecture came with dull readings, which you idly flipped through later that night. It was nearing 1 am, but sleep had not yet found you, and even the reading was not putting you to sleep.

You must’ve dozed off on your tiny kitchen table, Moony curled up on the chair next to you, because her surprised meow and the sound of a door closing close by woke you up a few hours later. Your phone lit up with an email notification (professors were truly unhinged with their work hours) and you were able to see the time without lifting your head up from the table. 4 am.

The door that had closed and woken you and Moony up had been Midoriya’s, you realized even in your half-asleep state. Occasionally the sound would wake you up, but you never minded it much and usually rolled over and fell back asleep.

This time you had to drag yourself over to your bed, and you could vaguely hear Midoriya moving around next door. What business he had this early in the morning you never knew. He seemed pretty normal, and you always assumed he was fond of late library study sessions. Even if it was not exactly exam season. But then again, he was a biochem major, you mused.

You fell asleep wondering about this and woke up five hours later to the sound of your blaring alarm. It snapped you awake, enough to hear a thud from next door. Did Midoriya fall out of bed?

The day passed as usual. You went to class, took half-hearted notes (it was hard to focus at this point in the semester—everyone was already burnt out) came home and ate dinner with Moony, and cuddled up on the couch together to do your readings.

This time you were ready to pass out outside of the warm embrace of your bed, so you’d done your nightly routine and brought over blankets to the couch, ready for sleep to come whenever it was ready.

The sound that woke you up this time was much louder. And Moony hissed.

She never hissed.

You froze from your curled-up position on the couch, eyes still heavy with sleep and senses scrambling to catch up with your brain and racing heart. The coffee table was right across from you, and by some miracle, you’d been sipping on a lemonade earlier—one in a glass bottle.

As swiftly as you could, you untangled yourself from the blankets and grabbed the lemonade bottle, wielding it in front of you like a sword.

It slipped from your grasp when you saw who was standing in front of you, next to your open window you always kept closed, scared Moony would climb out.

As if on reflex, as if he expected you to drop your weapon, Spider-Man shot a web just as it slipped from your fingers, catching it in his hands before you could even register you had dropped it.

Moony, who had been very annoyed at being woken up just a minute ago, was now rubbing her head on his shins affectionately.

“Moony,” you whispered. “Get away from him.”

“It’s okay!” Spider-Man said, mirroring your whisper. “I’m not here to hurt anyone.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Then why did you break into my apartment?” You looked around for your phone, or another potential weapon. Instead, your gaze found the small digital clock you kept on a shelf near the door, the bright green numbers clearing away the fogginess of sleep.

It was 4am.

You could not help the gasp that escaped you.

“Midoriya?”

The effect was instantaneous. Spider-Man’s entire body language changed, that much you could tell, even in the dark. He took a step away from you, back toward the window, shoulders tense.

“What?” he said. Trying hard to keep his voice steady, even deepening it a little. But you knew it was him.

“Did you think this was your apartment?” You were connecting the dots now. “This is why you always come back so late.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, inching towards the window. “I just got a little lost. Thought this place was empty.”

“You’re bleeding,” you said, pointing at the gash in his arm as though he had not noticed it himself. “Why’re you bleeding?”

Moony meowed, as though echoing your question. She was still close to him, and leaned forward to rub her head against his shin again.

This seemed to break him—his shoulders drooped and he let out a long exhale. He reached up and pulled the mask off, and you gasped again.

The left side of his face was covered in bruises, his eye starting to swell a bit. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, glancing down at Moony.

“Smart cat. She recognized me.” You winced and instinctively moved toward him when he tried to smile and grimaced at the action.

“Sit down, please,” you said, remembering to speak quietly. “You can’t die in my apartment. You can’t.”

“I won’t,” he said, letting you manhandle him into sitting on the couch. “Promise.”

“If you thought this was your apartment you’re definitely concussed,” you said, reaching up to move his curls aside, careful not to touch his face. The bruises covered his entire left side, also the side his arm was bleeding. “What happened to you?”

You snatched your hand away when he realized he was frozen, eyes to the side where your hand was.

“I got thrown into a wall,” he said, smiling again. A smaller grimace this time. “I’m really sorry.”

“You’re sorry for being thrown into a wall?” You shuffled to the kitchen to grab the tiny first aid kit you kept there. It was dusty and unused and consisted mainly of bandaids, something you started laughing at a little hysterically as you opened it on the couch, in between you and Midoriya. He’d leaned back onto the couch, breathing evened out. He was lying so still you thought he was sleeping, until he turned his head to see what you were laughing at.

“I only have bandaids,” you said, still laughing a little. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” he said. “Oh, I didn’t mean…” he started laughing. Quietly, then a little louder until you were both giggling and suppressing loud laughs.

“It’s okay,” he said, catching his breath again. “Can you help me get to my place? I’m used to patching myself up.”

It took five minutes, but eventually, you both managed to get out your front door, coaxing Moony to stay inside. Midoriya had one of his arms draped around your shoulder, keeping him upright. He had reassured you plenty of times as you both shuffled out the door that he was fine, he had been through worse. Which only made you feel worse.

His apartment was the exact same layout as yours, though a little messier, which he apologized for. There were notes all over his kitchen table, his couch was covered in blankets. You had a feeling he was prone to falling asleep all over his apartment like you did.

“Thank you,” he said once he had settled down on his couch. “I’m really sorry, again.”

“I know,” you said, sitting down beside him. You stared at the clock directly across from you, above his small TV. “I’m sorry for figuring out who you are.”

Another small laugh from him. “S’okay.” he shifted to look at you, and you mirrored him. It would have felt awkward being this close to someone you knew more in passing a day ago, but you felt as though this entire experience had automatically made the two of you friends. A trauma bond, of sorts. “You won’t tell anyone?”

You smiled back at him. “Promise.”

You didn’t remember getting back to your apartment, only that it took a lot of convincing on Midoriya’s part. The second you woke up (on your couch) you rushed to get out the door and knock on Midoriya’s until he opened, if anything to confirm you had not dreamed anything that had happened. But before you could get your slippers on, you saw a small note on the floor in front of the door.

Two spiders drawn holding hands, with “friends?” written underneath.

You slid it back under his door with your own addition — a drawing of a cat and “friends” written underneath his question.

——— * * * ———

“Trauma bond?”

“Yeah,” you said, shoving at his shoulder and ignoring his fake wince. “Am I wrong?”

“No,” he agreed, petting a meowing Moony in his lap. He was frowning down at her, and you had been around him long enough to know something was wrong.

It had been over a month since the break-in incident (which Midoriya was still apologizing for) and you had grown used to each other’s company. It had started off small—seeing him in the library during the day, studying quietly next to him. Stifling your laughter when he slid a spider doodle across the table to you.

After that, you noticed him around campus more often. You had always greeted him when he crossed your path, stopping to make small talk. But now you actually talked about things of substance. Setting up study sessions, inviting him over to play with Moony, exchanging recipes and even starting to cook at each other’s apartments.

“Is my pasta not good?” you said. Moony meowed, echoing your question from his lap.

“It could use some pepper,” he said, smiling teasingly at you. “No, it’s good. Just a rough night.”

“Wanna talk about it?” you said.

“S’okay,” he said. “We’re trauma bonded enough.” You felt a pang of guilt at the sadness in his tone.

“Midoriya—”

“Thank you for the pasta,” he said. “I can help with the dishes.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “You know we’re friends friends, right?”

He nodded. “I’m messing with you.”

“You little shit!” he laughed as you set your dishes down in the sink, shoving him slightly. He smiled slyly at you. He seemed like the perfect boy next door, but he was really a little shit. And he was the perfect boy next door.

“I haven’t heard you come back late in a while,” you said. He turned to look at you from his place at the sink, eyebrows raised.

“You wait up for me?”

“No!” you said indiginantly. “It just used to wake us up.”

“Really? I’m sorry.”

“S’okay,” you said. “But you have to wake me up if you’re hurt really bad, okay? Even if it’s just to sit with you.”

A small noise of acknowledgement from Midoriya.

“What was that?”

“Promise.”

Satisfied, you got up from your place at the table, letting him finish up the dishes. “Are you going out tonight?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Sorry in advance about the early morning wake up call.”

He still would not tell you where he went. But the news reports the next day served as the answers to your questions. A crime solved here, a criminal turned in there. The Spider-Man news page, ran by dedicated fans, was bookmarked on your computer and one of your most visited tabs. On nights when you couldn’t sleep and didn’t know where he was, you would refresh it every few minutes, waiting for an update.

Sometimes he would go during the day, and when you would get back from class he would be there on your couch with Moony, napping. You would sit on the opposite end and wait for him to wake up, then decide on what to make for lunch together. Not talking about the new bruise on his arm or the new cut on his leg. If he brought it up you knew it was okay to talk about it, but usually you both talked about normal topics. Avoiding the giant spider in the room.

“All done!” he said, falling down on the couch beside you. Reaching to pet Moony, who was cuddled up on your lap. Arm muscles flexing, hands softly running through Moony’s fur. It was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore how jacked he was. Especially when he was literally always stripping in your apartment, changing from his suit into his regular clothes. Letting you sneak glances at his back, his chest.

“Take a nap,” you blurted. “If you’re going to be out tonight. You need to rest.”

“I will,” he said, smiling up at you. “Don’t worry.”

“I’m not!” you said, huffing. “You better not visit me tonight. I expect you to kick ass and come back with no injuries.”

“‘Kay,” he said. “See you tomorrow?” You nodded and watched him dramatically sigh, throwing his head back on the couch before getting up and shuffling to the door.

The rest of your evening was spent anxiously trying to distract yourself. There was a nagging feeling in the back of your head, in the pit of your stomach. After finishing your homework and realizing it was hours before your usual bedtime, you cleaned your apartment. Reorganized, moved things around.

You decided to settle on the couch for the night. Better place to hear Midoriya come back.

The sound that jolted you awake a couple hours later was louder than usual, and it woke you up quicker. A quick glance at your clock let you know it was only 1am.

“Midoriya?” you said quietly, sitting up. “You okay?”

He was standing near your window, at almost the exact same spot as a month before, when he had first broken in.

“No,” he said. Voice hoarse and almost too quiet for you to hear.

You were up and leading him over to the couch in an instant. His mask was already off, clutched in between his fingers

“Are you hurt?” you said, patting down his arms and running your fingers over his face softly, scared to touch a bruise or aggravate a cut. A shake of his head.

You gently took the mask from him, setting it down on the coffee table with one hand, the other gripping his hands tightly. “Want to talk about it?”

He nodded, squeezing your hands back. “Later.”

“Okay,” you said, scooting closer to him on the couch so your shoulders pressed together. “I’m here, okay? It’s okay.”

You were ready when his shoulders started shaking and he slid into your hug, staining your shirt with his tears. You ran your hands through his hair, rubbing your fingers along the nape of his neck. Repeating the phrase over and over until it felt like you were trying to convince yourself of the same thing.

The bruises were on his side this time—no cuts deep enough to warrant him going back to his apartment to patch himself up. You helped him get his suit off slowly. The tears hadn’t stopped, and yours had started fifteen minutes after his. It hurt to see him like this and not know how to help. Knowing all you could do was help him get back to his apartment and keep his secret.

“Can I stay?” he said. He was holding the top half of his suit to his chest, hugging it.

“Yeah, course you can,” you said. “I’ll get you some clothes.”

Moony walked out of your room with an annoyed meow. She had been sleeping, but once she spotted Midoriya she happily sauntered over, already purring.

Once he had changed into the clothes his eyes started to droop, and you started convincing him to sleep in your room. He kept shaking his head, until he finally told you, “Don’t want to be alone.”

“Okay, I’ll stay with you,” you said. Slipped out so easily you had no time to realize you had said it until he nodded and you were walking into your room and settling under the covers, Midoriya turning to face you, lashes wet with tears.

“I’m not leaving,” you said, reaching to intertwine your fingers with his. “You’re okay. We’re okay.”

He blinked slowly at you, sleep making his eyes heavy. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

masterlist

#midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x you #mha x reader #bnha x you #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x you #deku x reader #midoriya izuku x oc #spiderman deku #bnha fanfiction #spiderdeku

854 notes · View notes

pensoterios · 2 months

Text

was thinking about Hazel soooo

enemies to lovers with Hazel Callahan, I guess. 2.7k words :)

Of course, you weren’t really enemies. How could you be? She was so nice, for no reason, always willing to help, which was disgustingly endearing, and she hadn't seemed to realize that you didn't want to be friends. You were a solitary person, an introvert, who rarely ever sought out other people. People often told you that you were intimidating, but you didn’t really understand why. That may have been part of why you hadn’t made many friends.

Of course, Hazel Callahan just could not have this, apparently. You rolled your eyes at the thought as you sat at your desk, paying no attention to Mr G’s very short class. You were very aware of Hazel in the desk behind you, trying to get your attention.

“Hey.” She whispered in your ear for the third time. You ignored her and the chill that ran down your body. When you didn’t respond, she tapped your shoulder. You rolled your eyes and finally turned around. “What?”`

Surprise dawned on her face at your tone, but she smiled and, voice low, asked, “Um, do you wanna join our club for female solidarity? It’s after school’s over, starts at 3:15 in the gym. I-I could email you about it, we’re learning about self-defense.” Your eyes were absolutely not watching her lips as she talked, and you huffed a sigh.

It actually didn’t sound terrible, but if Hazel was gonna be there, you weren’t planning on going. “I’m good.”

You turned back around in your seat before you could see her reaction, effectively ending the conversation.

After class, you overheard Hazel talking to her friends. “She said no, and I think she doesn’t like me. I guess it’s never gonna happen.” You heard Josie tell Hazel that you might warm up to her, and you scoffed to yourself. For once, Hazel was right, it was never going to happen. After what had happened during freshman year, you had ruled out ever being friends with her.

That day, you, a solitary, intimidated freshman, had heard some girls talking loudly about you right next to your locker, calling you a sad loser, and you looked around to see if anyone else had heard. Hazel, a few lockers down, was frowning at you, clearly having heard the girls. You looked away, embarrassed that a cute girl had heard them talking about you like that. The next day, Hazel came up to you and handed you a letter. You were surprised to see that Hazel had written you a note saying that those girls were completely wrong and you actually seemed cool. You began to smile for the first time in a while, but when you looked up, your heart dropped. Hazel was giggling, and it grew into laughter. Of course. It was a joke, there was no way someone like her would have any interest in you. You turned around to slam your locker, walking away with tears in your eyes. You rarely talked to Hazel after that, and anytime you did, you gave her the shortest, most contempt filled answers you could.

You had come a long way since then, joining the cheer team and even having a few girlfriends outside of school, but still remaining mostly solitary.

When the end of the day came, you found yourself lingering at school, wondering if you should go to that club. It had actually sounded interesting, though you didn’t really need self defense lessons as you had been taking them for years. However, female solidarity sounded interesting to you, even if you didn’t want to see Hazel more than you had to. Eventually, you decided to go, and that you would ignore Hazel as much as possible. You walked to the gym with just a few minutes to spare.You hated the way your eyes immediately found Hazel, and you ignored the way her face lit up when you walked in. You leaned against a wall, observing everything but her. The girls were standing in a circle that you decided to join. You were surprised to see Isabel and Brittany there, and as they waved at you, you smiled back. PJ stepped forward to start the session.

“Okay, losers!” Your eyebrows raised at her words. She continued, “today we’re continuing our self defense lessons.” Her eyes zeroed in on you. “Why don’t you go first? Let’s get that out of the way. Go against…” PJ smirked. “Hazel.”

What did she mean ‘go against Hazel’?

Hazel stepped into the circle, and you began to realize what was going on. Hazel only confirmed it when she smiled but put up her hands in fists. A wave of relief washed over you; you were good at this. You waited as Hazel stepped closer, throwing the first punch towards your face. You ducked and threw one back. It caught, landing just below her ribs. She stumbled backwards, the breath knocked out of her. The girls around you cheered. Not one to kick someone when they were down, unlike her, you kept your hands up, waiting for her to recover. She didn’t take long and scrambled towards you. This time you didn’t wait and went for her face. She dodged and threw a punch to your chest before you had retracted your arms. You clutched your chest where she had hit your sternum. It hurt like a bitch and you knew you’d have a bruise. You knew you had to get over it though so you put your hands back up and focused. Hazel stepped towards you and you anticipated her punch, grabbing her arm to use her momentum and knee her stomach. She grabbed onto you as she went down, pulling you down on top of her.

Nope. She was a terrible person and she was not hot. You looked down at her under you, with a weird smile on her face as you drew your hand back to hit her again. You faltered slightly at her expression and she caught your arm before it hit her. Damn it. With your concentration broken, she pushed up and pinned you to the floor, and why did she have to be so pretty? Sweaty and out of breath, she looked downright indecent while sitting on top of you, but you had to focus. You pushed at her shoulders, but she held your arms down. You decided to pull out the dirty tricks, waiting till she was close enough from holding you down to headbutt her as hard as you could, which you thought wasn’t that hard. Unfortunately for Hazel, it was pretty hard. “Fuck!” she yelled, scrambling off you while clutching her head. Everyone around you gasped. Your eyes widened as you witnessed her sit back, eyes squeezed shut and muttering curses under her breath.

Nope. No No. No. Her body absolutely did not feel nice under yours, and you were not enjoying this. Not at all. And still, a little voice in your head went, yes you are. You like it and you like her. Even after what she did.

Shit.

“Fuck, I- are you okay?”

Her eyes snapped open, finding you immediately. “Um, yeah- ah shit. Yeah I’m fine.” You frowned, “it doesn’t seem like it.” Hazel shook her head.

“I’m fine just a little- ow- just a little dizzy.” This was bad, you thought to yourself. You hadn’t meant to give her a concussion, and you held out two fingers. “Shit, Hazel how many fingers am I holding up?” you asked.

“I don’t know, like, 4?” Yup. Definite concussion. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry,” you gasped. PJ called from the circle, “is she good?”

You shook your head, finally taking your eyes off Hazel. “She has a concussion. I have to take her to the nurse, or something.” PJ shrugged, “fine, whatever.” You rolled your eyes and turned back to Hazel. “Come on, let’s go.”

Hazel shook her head again. “I’m fine, just- ah- gimme a second.” You sighed. “You have a concussion. You should not be here. You should be somewhere where you can rest your head.” You pulled her up, keeping her steady as she leaned on you. “Alright, alright,” she conceded. “Don’t be mean to me.” You rolled your eyes at her childish remark. “I’m not being mean,” you insisted as you led her out of the gym. “You’re just stubborn, so excuse me if I’m like… concerned for your health.”

Hazel hummed but didn’t say anything as you walked towards the nurse’s office. There was a silence, not uncomfortable, as you walked and eventually reached the nurse’s office. The school nurse had already gone home, but of course, being in self defense classes meant you knew your fair share of first-aid. As Hazel watched, seated in a chair, you went to the freezer, grabbing ice cubes and putting them in a plastic bag. You handed the bag to Hazel. “Put this on your ribs, and lay down on one of the beds.” You gestured to the two medical beds in the office. Hazel listened, surprisingly, and laid down on the closest one. You sat in the chair next to it, watching quietly.

“What about your, um… your chest?” asked Hazel, blushing through talking about your chest.. You had forgotten all about your injuries for a moment, but as soon as Hazel mentioned it, your sternum began to throb. “Yeah. Right.” You nodded and got up again to get more ice, holding it to your chest and sitting heavily in the chair. You could feel Hazel’s eyes on you, watching as you slumped in the chair.

“What?” You turned suddenly, catching her staring. Her cheeks started warming and she looked away. “Nothing, I just- you’re really pretty.”

You rolled your eyes. “I look like shit, Hazel.” Hazel shrugged. “So?” You shook your head. “So. how could I be pretty if I look like shit?”

Hazel frowned. “Well, it’s not like a right-now thing, I mean, you’re always pretty, whether you look like shit or not.”

You looked at her out of the corner of your eye. You’d blame it on the concussion, you decided. She wasn’t thinking properly. “Yeah, okay. Whatever you say.”

Hazel was not having that. “No, actually. Like, you are actually really beautiful.” You hated the way your heart fluttered at the earnesty in her compliment. You knew you were pretty, but it was always nice to hear. Hazel looked away. “Sometimes I just look at you and go: ‘wow, I wish I could tell her how pretty she is every day. Maybe after a kiss on the cheek.’”

She what?

The shock from her comment got to you. “You what? So what was that in freshman year? You don’t get to just say that after what you did.” Hazel frowned again. You didn’t like that face, in fact, you much preferred her smile. “What do you mean?”

“Oh come on, you’re telling me you don’t remember when you wrote that fake note and then laughed in my face about it?”

Her eyebrows pinched further together in obvious confusion. “Fake note? What fake-” Realization dawned on her face, her eyes wide, which quickly turned into hurt. Her voice was quiet. “You thought it was fake?”

You looked at her like she was crazy. “Are you trying to tell me it was real? Hazel, you laughed in my face about it. Why wouldn’t I think that?” Hazel shook her head. “No, no, I didn’t. I just got nervous and when I get nervous I do this like, giggle thing.” Her eyes widen. “Oh my god, that’s why you walked away? You thought I was laughing at you. Holy shit, I feel terrible now. That explains so much- no, I meant every word I wrote on that paper.” Your eyes went wide as hope surged in your chest.

“Hazel, you… you meant it?”

She nodded. “Of course I did, I’d never not mean it. That would be horrible. Do you.. Still hate me?” You grimaced. “I don’t think I ever did.. I was just hurt cause I thought I’d been absolutely rejected by the girl of my dreams.” At her frown, you clarify. “You, Hazel.”

Hazel’s jaw drops, and she sits up, ignoring the way the room spins for a second. “I’m the girl of your dreams? Really?” Her wide eyes draw you in closer, leaning in as your eyes drop to her pretty pink lips. “Yeah, you are. Is this okay?” You ask as you lean even closer.

She nods her head, but before you can even move, the door to the nurse’s office swings open. You both lean back quickly as PJ appears in the door, but too late as her eyes flick from you to Hazel and back. “What are you losers doing in here? Making out?”

Both you and Hazel blush and PJ finally realizes that she’s right. “Oh, you were actually about to make out? Well don’t stop on my account-”

“Shut up, PJ,” you say, rolling your eyes. She rolls her eyes back at you. “Whatever. Club’s over anyway.” She shrugs, but both you and Hazel frown. “PJ, that’s really short. What happened?” Hazel asks. PJ shrugs again. “We had like, two more fights after you guys left, but the mood was totally killed so it got boring. Plus, Brittany had to leave.”

You and Hazel shared a look. You were both friends with PJ, so you both knew she was only in it for Brittany. “Okay, well, I gotta go. Hazel, if you want a ride, me and Josie are leaving, like, now.” Hazel swung her legs off the bed, standing a little shakily.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You ask, reaching out to steady her as you all walk out of the nurse’s office. She opens her mouth but PJ interrupts. “She’s fine, chill. Come on, let’s go.” You all walk back to the gym to get your stuff, then you part ways.

Hazel smiles sheepishly at you before they leave. “Thanks for taking care of me. See you tomorrow.”

“See you,” you respond, and you can’t help the disappointment in your voice. You wish PJ hadn’t interrupted, seeing as you’d definitely be kissing Hazel right now if she hadn’t, instead of watching her leave. You would see her tomorrow, but who knew if you’d have a moment like that again?

There wasn’t anything you could do about it now, but as you walked to your car, you made a promise to pull Hazel aside after school tomorrow and kiss the life out of her.

That self-promise proved to be challenging, since you had to see her all day before you’d talk to her privately. Sitting in Mr. G’s class was torture since you were hyper aware of Hazel sitting behind you, just out of reach.

Finally when the end of the day arrived and the bell rang, you rushed to your locker to find Hazel. You found her leaning against her own locker, and she looked up when you approached, her face brightening. “Hi,” she breathed out, a smile taking over her face to mirror the one on yours.

Your brain nearly shut off at her smile, but you quickly shook it off. The plan you had formulated in your mind rearranged itself as she leaned against the locker. You came closer and closer, putting a hand on the lockers next to her head to support yourself as you leaned in, your lips inches from hers. “Hi gorgeous. Can I kiss you?” You didn’t care about the other people in the hallway. All that mattered was Hazel’s little nervous swallow and the nod she gave you. Immediately, your lips were on hers, slotting together as you kissed her sweetly. You felt her hand go up and touch your cheek, holding you in place as you continued to kiss her.

When you finally pulled away, you were both slightly out of breath, your lips and cheeks flushed. You smiled at each other.

“It’s fitting,” you say, smiling now. “What is?” she asks.

“We kind of just corrected what happened here last time,” you laughed softly, leaning in for another kiss. Hazel smiled against your lips, kissing you back with passion. She pulled back to speak, her lips brushing against yours. “You want to get out of here?”

You smiled. “Hell yeah.”

#hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan #bottoms 2023 #what even is this #i tried

189 notes · View notes

ichorai · 3 months

Text

hell, yeah ; roman roy ; part six.

pairing ; roman roy x f!reader

synopsis ; pain was an old friend for the both of you.

words ; 13.8k

themes ; angst, fluff, drama, slowburn, childhood friends to lovers

warnings / includes ; depictions of mental and physical abuse, major character death, heavy angsty shit, sexual jokes and general foul language, business talk, roman is so in love, connor gets a bit of spotlight for this chapter </3

a/n ; sorry i'm taking so so so long w this series! uni keeps getting in the way of my writing HAHA but i hope you guys enjoy :)

series masterlist. main masterlist.

Bidding wars had never really been fun for you. It was always emails upon emails, calls after calls, Logan yelling, Gerri scrambling, negotiations, bargains, deals—it was all too much.

But this… even you had to admit, this was fun.

Maybe because it was the first time you were working against Logan and not for him. And being around the Roy siblings reminded you of your childhood—a time where the four of you got along for the most part, even with the bloody noses and scraped knees and the yankings of hair.

Buying Pierce had been something you were starkly against while you were working in Waystar, but with this new thing that the Roy siblings were crafting, you had complete faith that Shiv, Kendall—hell, even Roman, would keep the news station’s values in check.

And, though you weren’t entirely proud of it, there was a thrill, a rush of adrenaline, when the four of you raised your bidding price to a healthy ten billion as a closing offer, knowing there was no way Logan could ever consider outbidding that.

Nan Pierce accepted with little pushback, much to Logan’s fury.

Your godfather yelled at the four of you through the phone later that day, but there was no fear sitting within your stomach, like there usually was when he got angry. No, you were laughing. Kendall and Shiv and Roman—they were stifling their own smiles down at the screen, too.

That night, you stood on your balcony, a lit cigarette loosely balanced between your fingers. You weren’t at all a smoker—in fact, you hadn’t had one ever since you joined Waystar. It was an unprofessional look, in a sense. Not something you wanted to be associated with.

The goddaughter that smelled of cheap cigarettes. Wasn’t that an unattractive thought?

But you didn’t have to worry about that anymore, did you? Honestly, you weren’t quite sure yourself. You’d just assumed you were no longer part of the company, but knowing Logan…

He always had something up his sleeve. Maybe he’d wait until the siblings lowered their guards to snipe you in the back of the head. Or lure you back with meaty bait.

You took a short drag, faint grey wisps falling past your lips as you breathed out.

“You smoking now? Doing a little smokey smokes?” came Roman’s voice from behind you, making you turn your head with a slight grin. “Since when?”

“First one since I was a little baby teenager, I think,” you replied. Roman leaned onto the balcony railing beside you, shoulder pressing flush against yours. “They taste disgusting. Here—”

You took a drag—a longer one, this time—leaned forward until your lips were just a whisker away from his, and blew the smoke into him. He inhaled deep before jerking forward to kiss you, nose nudging yours in his fervor.

“Yeah. Fucking disgusting,” he mumbled against your lips, as if wanting to propel you into something more than just kisses.

Your eyes lit up with amusement, but you pulled away, leaving a lingering kiss on the side of Roman’s nose. The cigarette wasn’t at all used up, but you put it out on a small ashtray you had taken with you.

“I just wanted to try,” you said. “Was wondering if I’d like it after all this time, now that I have the freedom to.”

There was a curious glint to Roman’s molten eyes. “And do you?”

“Nah. Like I said—they taste disgusting.”

“Some people like disgusting,” he off-handedly said, and you shot him a pointed look.

A breezy laugh, lost to the wind. “Yeah. I might know someone.”

“You’re a goody two-shoes, you know that?” he commented snidely, but his eyes were far too soft for his words to strike harsh. “But it’s good. We need someone like that. The company, I mean.”

“I know,” you whispered back. “I’m glad we’re doing this.”

“Yeah,” Roman said, his hand lacing with yours. He began tugging you back inside. “Me too.”

Connor wanted the four of you to come to his wedding rehearsal at a fancy restaurant downtown—he texted you multiple different addresses, each text telling you to disregard the last one. Then, he called you (called Shiv first, but she was on the phone, passive-aggressively bickering with Tom), and told you exactly where he was. Apparently Willa wasn’t very happy with the venues they’d booked. He sounded sad—it was always easy to tell when he was sad.

And so the four of you set off for him, though not without Roman’s constant complaints. Spending some quality time with their eldest brother was the last thing the Roy siblings wanted to do—they had far more pressing matters at hand.

Sandi and Stewy, for one. They wanted to veto the acquisition for more dollars squeezed from Matsson’s hand. Roman was starkly against the idea, not wanting to blow more bullets into his father. Shiv and Kendall were far more willing to listen, though Kendall eventually backed down. It was appealing, you had to admit, especially because you hated Matsson’s guts, but you wanted to put business aside for the moment. Spend some time with Connor—after all, he was going to get married soon. If that ever ended up happening, that is.

Once inside the restaurant’s halls, you caught sight of Willa hurrying down the wide staircase by the entrance, looking a bit frazzled.

“Oh, hi!” she said, slightly breathless. “So you’re here now, huh?”

“Hi, Willa,” you greeted, embracing her with a loose hug before stepping back. “Are you… going somewhere?”

“You standing up my big bro?” Roman quipped from right behind you. He was joking, but Willa only frowned. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

There was a nervous laugh from both parties.

“Oh, yeah! Yeah, yeah, I’m just—I’m having a little drink. Away.”

Both you and Roman spared each other confused glances.

“Is the dinner rehearsal thing over? He still up there?” Roman asked.

The blonde fiddled with her phone, nearly dropping it. “Oh, uh, the rehearsal isn’t—it’s not done, no.”

“You’re leaving your own wedding rehearsal?” you gently questioned.

She smiled, though it came off only sad and tired. “I think they can manage. I’m not vital from here.”

Roman squinted at her. “Yeah, well… I mean, normally the bride is generally considered—correct me if I’m wrong—I think the bride is pretty vital in a wedding. Don’t you think?”

“Well! Yeah, but… I should go, though. Have a think about it all. I’m in a bit of a fuzz.” She laughed again, though it looked like she wanted to cry.

Nodding, you said, “Take care of yourself, Willa. Let us know if you need anything.”

She pursed her lips, eyes soft with appreciation. The two of you had never been quite close, but there was a mutual understanding between you. To be the pedestals of Roy men, the unnamed crutch, the woman on the arm.

With that, she hurried away.

“Fairy tale wedding, huh?” Shiv said, eyebrows raised. “Should we even go up? Seems like the rehearsal is over.”

“She said it wasn’t,” you replied, shrugging. “We should go see Con.”

Roman crossed his arms. “Yeah, Shiv, we really should. Why? You got something better to do than see your own brother before his wedding?”

“No, it’s just—we’ve got quite a lot to discuss, that’s all.”

It was Kendall’s turn to query, “What? Sandi and Stewy? They’re baiting us. Just let it go, Shiv.”

“I think they could really help us! We overpromised on Pierce!” she hotly defended.

“It’s a mind game,” Roman agreed with Kendall. “Just—fuck ‘em, okay?”

The redhead looked at you, but you shook your head. “Let’s just go see Connor, okay? We can hash it out after making sure he hasn’t got a gun barrel in his mouth.”

“Sure. Fine,” Shiv said, though it didn’t seem all that fine to her, judging from her pinched expression.

The four of you traipsed up the stairs, spotting Connor instantly—alone, surrounded by near-untouched platters of expensive food.

“Found him,” Roman sarcastically commented, pointing a finger at his oldest brother, who cracked a fond smile.

“Finally,” Connor said. “Took you guys long enough.”

Roman gave him an embrace from the side, saying, “Hey, bro. Hugsy.”

To the other side, Kendall patted his shoulder, another hand thumping on his chest. Shiv only barely leaned down to hug him, telling him, “Dad screwed us.”

“Yeah,” the eldest said. “I heard. But look at you guys—the Rebel Alliance.”

You were last to give Connor a hug, squeezing him tight, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. “How’s the rehearsal been?”

A non-committal noise slipped past his lips. “Been good. It’s been okay.”

Roman made a strange, wincing sound, sucking air through his teeth. “Sure. Yeah, I believe you.”

Keen to change the subject, Connor surveyed his siblings—and you—with narrowed eyes. “So this is how it is, huh? Battle royale. Me and Dad on one side, you guys on the other?”

Strange, you hadn’t quite recalled Connor being so in with his father’s business plans. And… the fact that Logan hadn’t shown up to the wedding rehearsal at all.

“You okay, man?” Roman queried, genuine concern slipping over his features. He was always one to wear his heart on his sleeve. “We bumped into Willa on the way in. She seemed all…” He drew up his hands to his face and shook his fingers about.

Pointedly, Connor dropped his gaze down to the table. Untouched food left and right. “Yeah. It’s alright. I think it’s fine.”

“You sure, Con?” you asked, slipping into the seat beside him, Roman on your other side.

“Yeah, well, I guess she just—she stood up to do her speech, and then she froze. Said that she couldn’t do it.” There was a laugh, dry and unpleasant and somber. “Then she went to the bathroom for forty minutes with her so-called friends.”

Roman wrinkled his nose and squinted his eyes at nothing in particular. “Oh, no, no, that’s—that’s totally fine. Don’t you worry about that. Just toss her another ten grand—or a snowmobile. Teeth-whitening vouchers.”

Unhappy with the meaning behind his brother’s words, Connor pushed himself away from the table, heading off to speak to Willa’s mom.

Tossing a glare in Roman’s direction, you sighed out, “Was that really necessary?”

“What? It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

Slumping into the chair across from you, Kendall huffed out, “This is so fucking weird.”

“Do we regroup at my place?” Shiv asked, still standing, impatient to leave even though they’d just gotten there.

Tilting his head, Roman incredulously said, “Shiv. Come on. He’s… he’s looking a little rough. Don’t you think?”

“Well, sure. I’m sorry that Dad fucked us and I’m sorry that we’re late. But we do need to decide fast.”

“The Sandi and Stewy deal?” you queried.

Shiv let out a frustrated exhale. “Yeah.”

“Well, I think we’re already decided, no?” Kendall said, lifting a shoulder in half a shrug. Roman nodded in agreement.

“Are we, though? They made some pretty compelling arguments.” Shiv tapped her foot against the hardwood floors impatiently.

Glancing over at Connor, who was trying his best to console Willa’s mother, you bobbed your head, hesitant. “It could potentially ruin Matsson. The deal. I’d like to see it.”

Groaning a little too loudly, Roman said, “Sandy’s just a greedy little bitch. She’s got her hand up the ass of the carcass of her dad, and Stewy’s just coming along for the ride. Can we not do this right now? It’s a fucking—it’s a packet of horseshit.”

Trying her best to stay calm, Shiv perched herself on the edge of the seat next to Kendall. “Okay. And what if I want to talk it through? This would help us.”

Kendall arched a brow. “I think we should just rise above it.”

“Yeah, okay, but maybe Dad is not on it like he used to be—and maybe he’s underplayed his hand, and the board are all just hand-fucking-picked Japanese plastic cats just waving it through,” Shiv argued.

“It doesn’t hurt to try,” you added, trying your best to sway Roman by nudging him gently. He merely rolled his eyes and prodded you back, but said nothing more.

It was then that Connor came hurrying back, carding a hand through his hair. He tiredly sank back down into his seat. “No luck. Still incommunicado. I just really hope she’s okay.”

“I’m sure she is,” you told him, rubbing a hand over his shoulder. “She just needs space, is all.”

“Yeah.” As if he’d flipped a switch, Connor straightened and plastered on a smile. “So, what do you guys say? A little bit of karaoke?”

All three siblings grimaced.

“Or would it be possible,” Roman began, scratching at his jaw, “to do anything other than that, in the entire universe?”

“I think karaoke sounds nice,” you offered. Honestly, you weren’t too keen on doing karaoke when your mind was abuzz with a million other things at the moment, but it was Connor, and he seemed so down about Willa at his own wedding rehearsal, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to say no to him. It was like kicking at an already-wounded puppy.

Connor grinned. “Nice! One in the bag. Come on, you guys. Don’t leave us hanging.”

Shiv looked near ready to bash her head against the table. Kendall was glancing down at his phone—texting someone.

Roman rolled his eyes and groaned again, even louder than before. “Ugh. Fine! We can drink, though, right? I’m not listening to you sing sober.”

Clearing her throat, Shiv said, “Well, I just, we kind of have—other engagements right now—”

“Oh, sure. Everybody’s busy,” Connor crooned. Though, if you looked close enough, you’d see the unmistakable hurt in his eyes. Why didn’t his baby sister want to spend time with him?

“Come on,” Kendall said with an urgent hand slanting over Shiv’s shoulder, phone gone for now. “Let’s give him a drink.”

Clapping his hands, Connor stood up again. “Great! But—not any of your stupid places. Somewhere fun and real and—away from all the fancy dance. A real bar with, uh, with chicks, and guys who work with their hands in grease—sweat dripping down their backs and blood all over their hair.”

“I don’t like these guys. They sound like a medical experiment gone wrong,” Roman piped up, slinging an arm over your shoulder.

“Sounds hot,” you said with a genuine laugh. “Let’s go.”

The bar itself was atmospherically ambient, the lights warm and unharsh, the chatter light and friendly, the television playing a football match at a soft volume. You smiled—it’d been a while since you stepped foot into an actual bar full of people who weren’t aristocratic assholes.

Normal people doing normal things. What was that like?

Roman, on the other hand, looked particularly uncomfortable, shoulders stiff and expression taut. He was only here for his big brother, but his saint-like kindness only wore so thin.

Kendall ordered drinks for the lot of you—whiskey on the rocks for himself, a sealed soda for Shiv since she didn’t trust anything from the bar’s “tainted” nozzles, a fancy beer for Connor, a vodka tonic for Roman, and a strawberry margarita for you. He snorted when you asked for it, rolling his eyes to the side.

“You and your strawberries,” Kendall said, before heading off to call the bartender. You weren’t quite sure if his expression was fond or derisive. Perhaps both.

You sat beside Connor, peering over his shoulder, where he was staring at the screen with heavily knitted brows.

“Is that—is that Willa?” you asked, eyes widening upon seeing him zoomed onto a map with a tiny blue dot. “Are you tracking her?”

“Jesus, Con,” said Roman, laughing his high-pitched laugh. “That’s low, even for you.”

“What? I have her location shared,” the older brother said, earning quizzical looks from the three of you. “It’s a factory setting.”

Shiv made a noise of amusement. “It’s not.”

“Well…” Connor’s eyes darted back down to his screen, zooming in impossibly closer. “I’m reassured she’s definitely not on her way to Cuba.”

From his other side, Kendall appeared, hands shoved deep into his pockets. “Well, her phone isn’t.”

Connor decided to ignore the comment. “She stopped moving, so… I guess she found a spot she likes.”

“Sure!” crooned Roman. “On another man’s dick.”

The rest of you sighed, and you shook your head.

“On a much bigger, nicer, harder, younger dick, is all I’m saying,” Roman reassured his eldest brother, patting his shoulders.

“Can we not?” Connor softly said, though he was smiling down at Rome. Even though his words hurt, just the fact that he was there for him cheered him up just a little bit. “Okay? I’m feeling—I’m having certain anxieties, alright? I want to have a good time!”

Once Roman muttered a quick apology, you bumped him off to the side so you can press up next to Connor again, staring down at the blue dot, still unmoving. “I’m sure she just needs a breather. It’s a big deal, y’know. Marriage.”

“I know,” said Con, sucking in a deep breath. There was a profound sort of loneliness to his eyes. “I just thought—I thought it was enough. All of it. It was enough for her.”

“It will be,” you said, nudging him. “Eventually. Just give her time.”

The drinks came then, and you hummed contentedly after taking your first sip. “Fuck. Why don’t they ever have shit like this at the fancy events we go to?”

“Because it’s diabetes in a cup,” Roman replied, but he plucked the glass from your fingers to snag a sip for himself. “It’s literal sugar water. Barely any alcohol in here.”

“Well, I’m not looking to get wasted,” you said, before snatching it back, shooting him a half-hearted glare. “You drank so much!”

“Nuh-uh, there was barely anything in there to begin with!”

“Roman, it was filled to the brim two seconds ago, what are you talking about?”

Before the two of you could divulge into a round of childish bickering, Connor abruptly straightened in his seat. “Her dot is at an aquarium supply retailer. That doesn’t make sense—is that a drug thing?”

Kendall cleared his throat. “No, I don’t think so.”

“You sure?”

Roman snickered. “It is. It’s a drug thing.”

“Maybe she’s getting a pet fish,” you unhelpfully supplied. “A little pre-wedding gift for the two of you?”

Frowning, Connor said, “Now she’s at a dry cleaner’s.”

“Probably getting her panties cleaned from the new dick’s cum,” quipped Roman. The absurdity of the statement made you laugh unexpectedly, but you quickly quietened when Connor stared at the two of you in horror.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked, as if he were a parent scolding a naughty toddler.

“I’m not saying it’s your cum! Your cum, I’m sure, is very washable.” Roman droned on to an incredulous Connor some more, but your attention was drawn to Kendall, whose phone began to ring, and he quietly excused himself from the bar to take the call, face twisted into unmistakeable dread. You briefly wondered who he looked so anxious to talk to, but the thought was quick to banish from your mind entirely when Connor prodded Roman in the shoulder and said your name.

“Okay, that’s enough from you. Y/N, can you tell him to stop? Tell him to stop.”

“Stop it, Roman. Don’t talk about your brother’s cum, you weirdo.”

Rubbing his palms together, Roman shrugged the matter away entirely. “I’m starving. Anything to eat in this shit shack, or what?”

By the time Kendall came back, the rest of you were crowded into a small booth with a dingy little light hanging a little too low over the table. There was a platter of cheesy nachos in the center, which Shiv eyed with distaste. Roman was still looking over the menus, sarcastically wondering aloud from which creature they’d clipped the wings off of.

“Who were you talking to, Ken?” you asked. “It wasn’t Frank again, was it?”

Kendall’s eyes darted from your face down to the floor. “Uh… no. No, it was—it was Stewy.”

Something about his demeanor screamed that he wasn’t telling the entire truth, but you kept quiet, watching him with just barely narrowed eyes.

“Oh, great. What the fuck does he want now?” Roman hissed, peering over the crinkled lamination of the menu he was holding.

Kendall leaned forward slightly, regarding Shiv with a pointed stare. “Actually, guys, can I… can I show you something? On the comparables. It’s actually pretty fucking intriguing.”

Your eyebrows rose a fraction. Just a few moments ago, Kendall wasn’t at all interested in Sandi and Stewy’s pitching. What changed his mind?

Nodding in satisfaction, Shiv added, “Yeah, see? It makes you think. Maybe Dad isn’t on it like he used to be. You know, he’s being pushed around by Matsson—hell, even by Kerry. Giving shows to his girlfriend? That’s just—it’s an embarrassment!”

Loudly, Connor exclaimed, “Fuck, she’s in the East River now! She’s in the—oh. Wait, no, she’s just on the bridge.” You popped a nacho in your mouth and glanced over at Connor, who was squinting down at his phone.

“Looks like she’s going on a little trip,” you hummed. “She’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, okay, not to be dicks, Con, but is it okay if we do a little breakout chat, just the four of us? We won’t be long, like—two minutes max,” Shiv said, expression serious and unyielding.

Rolling his eyes, Roman gestured to his oldest brother. “Hey, just—fuck it. Why don’t we fold Con in?”

“Well, he’s not on the board, so—”

“Yeah, but he has a share. If the deal falls, he loses his payout.”

An incredulous frown pulled at his lips. “Excuse me?” Connor said.

“Oh, okay, so Shiv wants to get us mixed up in some drug deal that will fuck the vote tomorrow,” Roman told him, pursing his lips in an exaggerated fashion.

Holding her hands out, Shiv shook her head. “Uh, no. All we’re aiming for is a small delay. We all want the deal to go through.”

“Right,” you said with an amused snort. “Sure.”

“I, uh… I think I agree,” said Kendall.

Roman’s eyes widened. “Oh, what the fuck? Seriously?”

“It’s just—looking at the numbers… it’s compelling.”

With a grand scoff, Roman shook his head. “It’s compelling? Wow. You’d find a bag of peanuts more compelling, Kendall.”

You placed a hand over Roman’s jolting knee. “Rome, why don’t we just hear them out?” His eyes met yours, hesitant and conflicted. “And think—wouldn’t it be fun? Fucking Matsson in the ass?”

“Yeah, I bet you’d like that, you freak,” he scoffed, crossing his arms.

“So you guys are just gonna force Dad to grovel?” Connor asked, mouth parted in surprise. “Oh, man. How long will a renegotiation take?”

Shiv’s lips twisted downwards, though it was more of a smile than a frown. “It’s a play. More money is more money, and that’s all there is to it.”

It was then that Roman’s phone, facing upwards on the chipped table, vibrated thrice. The screen lit up with a text notification.

Dad.

All the siblings had seen it, and Shiv rushed to angle the phone towards her. Roman slapped her hand away, yanking his phone towards his chest. Hiding it.

“What the fuck?” Shiv asked, wary. “The fuck is Dad messaging you for?”

Roman stood frozen, reminiscent of a deer in headlights. “Uh, I don’t know. Why don’t you ask him? Stupid question, Shivvy.”

Kendall stared at his younger brother blankly. “You’re not gonna read it?”

There was a brief pause. “Yeah, I’ll—I’ll read the damn thing. Sure.” A swipe of his phone, a kink to his brows. “It’s just a check-in.”

“Oh, yeah?” Shiv said, skeptical. “A check-in? Oh, yeah. Classic Dad. He just loves to check in on us, see how we’re doing.”

Backing down, Roman fessed up, “Okay, fine, I sent him a text on his birthday. Just saying, you know, happy birthday, sorry we missed it—”

“I’m sorry, wait a minute!” Shiv exclaimed. “You texted him first?”

Roman frowned. “It was his birthday, yeah.”

“We said no contact until he apologizes!” she angrily pointed out.

“Okay, so then never?” Roman shot back, scowling.

With a tilt of your head, you said, “It was just a simple happy birthday, right? That’s harmless. Right, Roman?” You pressed your foot over his, enough so he could feel the pressure, but not enough to hurt him.

“Yeah. That was it.”

“Nuh-uh. I want to see your phone,” said the red-head.

A flicker of panic flashed across Roman’s eyes. “Oh, really? Show me yours, then! World’s biggest WhatsApp group of people sharing pictures of your snatch. No, thank you. Fuck off, fuck you.”

“Roman, come on,” Kendall said. “We have to trust each other.”

Memories of Kendall forcefully taking Roman’s phone from you in Hungary briefly crossed your mind. You pursed your lips. He’d been hiding things from you then, who was to say he wasn’t hiding things from you now?

Relenting, Roman tossed his phone onto the table, almost hitting the platter of nachos. He was growing angrier by the second, frustrated by his siblings' shoes pressing against his spine. “Fine, take a good look. I don’t give a shit. It’s just dick pics, anyway. He’s got a real taste for ‘em now.”

You leaned over to read along with Shiv and Kendall. It looked fine to you—since it was just a simple birthday wish, but they seemed much more harsh in their critique.

“This is more than one text, Roman.” There was a crease between Shiv’s brows.

“Okay. What is it? Two, three?”

Kendall rubbed the faint stubble over his jaw. “It’s a bit warm.”

“Warm? Why, what did I say?”

“Take care.”

Scoffing, Roman’s eyes rolled up to the dingy, low-hanging light. “What was I supposed to say? Happy birthday, hope you fall down a flight of stairs, shithead!”

“I feel a little bit weird about this betrayal, if I’m being honest,” Shiv said in a steely tone.

“Betrayal?” Roman parroted, almost offensively. “The betrayal of happy birthday, Dad. Take care!”

“You know what?” Kendall chimed in. “I’m feeling a bit betrayed, too.”

Upset, Roman just about slammed his phone back down on the tabletop. “Wow. Great. Fucking family guilt-trip fest.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” you said, pinching the space between your brows. “It’s not illegal to say happy birthday, guys. Relax, okay?”

Connor nodded. “It’s hard. It’s been hard on everybody.”

The five of you sat in silence for a bit longer. Has it been hard? Or did it just feel like it because all of you had been so accustomed to getting everything handed over on a silver platter?

Finally, Shiv swallowed heavily and said, “You know that he advised Tom on the divorce? Gave him a Dad trick—went and spoke to every pit bull in Manhattan and tied them up. I got Mommed.”

You frowned. So much had happened in the past few months, you’d sort of even forgotten Shiv and Tom were heading for divorce. “Tom did that? Jeez… I’m sorry, Shiv.”

Roman blew out a breath, mildly relieved that the heat was taken off of him for a moment. “I mean, there’s probably one more horrible motherfucker lawyer around somewhere, but, uhm… that sucks. I’m sorry.”

Shiv refused to meet either of your gazes. She didn’t want to be reduced to… Tom’s ex-wife. A shadow of her mother.

“Guys, I just feel like we need to stick together,” Kendall said, firm. We should push back, and we should all be on board. We squeeze them.”

Equally level, Roman placed his hands on the table. “Okay, but, we want to do Pierce, right? We want an out?”

“Yes. But just with a bit more money,” Kendall agreed.

“Yeah, that’s the thing—I don’t think Matsson will go up in price,” Roman argued. “He won’t! I know this, because I’ve spoken to him. I really think he might walk.”

Good, you wanted to say, but you bit down on your tongue.

Both Shiv and Kendall began poking fun at him for not calling Matsson’s bluff.

Exasperated, Roman rubbed his knuckles along his hairline. “Okay, it just sounded like he meant it.” He didn’t look happy with the prospect of blocking the deal. He wanted to be a traitor to his Dad without being a traitor. To have his cake and eat it, too.

Shiv and Roman fell into another argument about whether or not Roman cared over conflict—that he was scared of his own Dad and wanted to back down like a coward.

Quelling his riled-up siblings, Kendall motioned for them to quiet down. “Honestly, though, guys. I think going with Sandi and Stewy is the best thing for us to do. As a team.”

Shiv nodded in agreement. “It’s a play. Buys us a couple weeks and more money.”

“He’ll get it,” Kendall said, trying to sway Rome. “It’s what Dad would do in his prime.”

And was that the goal? To try and imitate the beast to scare him off? A moth with false eyes to ward away predators?

Roman squinted at nothing in particular. Then, he angled his face to look at you. You hadn’t at all realized that your features were immobilized in uncertainty.

“What?” Roman asked, knee knocking against yours.

“Your Dad’s going to hate us if we pull this.”

Roman laughed, high and nervous. The idea made him nauseous. “Seems like he already does.”

“No, he… he loves you. All of you. But this is… he’ll hate that he loves you, sure, that’s always been the case. But this time… he’ll hate you if you’re the reason he can’t win.”

Something sick twisted within Roman’s gut. He seemed to go all pale and wide-eyed.

“It’s just a play, though,” Shiv said.

“Just a play,” Roman echoed, sounding unsure. “It isn’t real?”

Kendall nodded. Shiv, too.

“Fine. Yeah, fuck it. I’m in.” Roman caved, and the two smiled at him. You squeezed his knee.

With a sharp exhale, Connor huffed, “God damn it. God fucking damn it! You ruined it. You ruined it all.”

Roman apologized, but it seemed to fall upon deaf ears. Kendall tried to calm him down by asking his brother what he wanted to do. After all… it was supposed to be his big night before the big day.

“I wanted to get married tomorrow,” he said, cross. “I wanted to spend tonight with my family and tomorrow with Dad. I wanted to get my fucking money out. But you guys fucked it!”

Feeling mildly guilty, your other hand came up to rub Connor’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, really. You’re an innocent bystander caught in the crossfire. What can we do to make you feel better, Con?”

Several moments passed by in silence as Connor thought about it. What did he want? A giant bowl of ice cream so large you couldn’t see around it? A perfectly-tailored suit from the most expensive store he could find? A vintage bottle of whiskey and a nice book to sit with? They all sounded appealing to him.

“I would…” he finally started, “I’d like to sing one fucking song at karaoke because I’ve seen it in the movies, and nobody ever wants to go.”

Roman just about banged his head on the table. You flicked at his ear, before turning back to Connor. “Karaoke. Yeah, we can do that, Con.”

The room was illuminated with hazy shades of purples and blues, the lights hidden behind indents in the wall. It looked modern and sleek—an upscale to what was typically seen in the movies. Connor didn’t hesitate to make a beeline for the karaoke machine, fiddling with buttons and remotes and smiling to himself when he managed to get it up and working without asking for help. Shiv and Kendall wandered around cautiously. Roman was quick to toss himself onto the long, spacious couch, hanging off of the seats as if he were melting. You curled up beside him with a pleased hum, nose brushing over his lower cheek, scratchy with barely-there stubble.

There was a bit more dilly-dallying—Connor was concerned about Willa’s blue dot disappearing completely. The siblings were quick to brush him off, reassure him, tell him he wasn’t going to ever do better than Willa. The usual.

You sipped on a glass of champagne that Kendall handed you. There was more chatter—amicable and light and teasing. You poked fun at Kendall’s lame hat whilst Shiv plainly told Roman that his shoes were a size too large for his feet. That his feet were small and dainty and he would fall over if they were any smaller. More drinks, more giggling, more stories. You learned that fresh-faced college Kendall once puked on Stewy’s bed and cried at the foot of it after drinking too much. You told the siblings that you once slept with Angelina from accounting during your first year at the company, to which they responded with shocked snorts. There was a point where Roman grabbed your face and kissed you and kissed you until the rest of the siblings began faux-gagging, and Connor complained that it was like watching his siblings make out. Goddaughter-and-son incest, he’d said.

It was fun, maybe. The closest to fun you could have with Roy siblings.

And it was gone in a second, like a candle snuffed in a hurricane.

Logan was coming. Connor invited him because he loved him and he loved all of you and—

It hurt. Simple as that. It hurt to see the people he loved so… so torn.

The smiles melted away, and the laughter buzzed down. It was tense again. Family turned business once more. Connor finally put on a song to sing while he waited for his father to come, but your ears rang with white noise, so you didn’t quite register which song he was brokenly following along.

You were scared, you realized. Scared to face the man with the knife in his back. Roman worked his jaw and he complained some more. Not that you really heard what he said.

At some point, his phone began to ring, vibrating in his pants, pressed up against your leg. You raised a brow and scooched back so he could take it out to check.

Logan. Dad. Of course. Roman’s hands shook, but only a little bit. Enough for you to see. Shiv grabbed it and hung up for him, not liking how long he hesitated. You stared at the black screen for a bit longer, your own fingers twitching.

Connor continued to sing. He finished three songs—maybe four—until the door creaked open. No knocks.

Colin came in first, then your godfather, then Kerry. He nodded, almost polite, with a casual greeting hanging in the air. It was eternally strange, the way Logan smiled at you. Warm, maybe. You didn’t know.

“Shit,” Roman said, almost amused, mostly… unprepared.

Chancing a glance to Shiv and Kendall, you noticed their stiff upper lips, their frozen postures.

“Can we go somewhere else?” Logan asked, glancing around the large room. “These lights, er…”

Shiv shook her head in exasperation. A roll of her eyes. “We’re not going anywhere.”

There was little resistance to Logan. “Fine,” he easily acquiesced. With that, he took a seat in a velvet black chair, across all the siblings and you. Kerry jerked to sit next to him, which made Shiv recoil with a sneer.

“We won’t be needing you, Kerry. Thanks.”

Roman nodded. “Yeah, this here is a family fuck-fuck.”

There were a few glances around, Logan and Kerry looked at each other but neither moved.

“Let’s get this figured out, and I can let you get back to your fun,” said Logan, ignoring them.

“Might be a wasted trip,” Kendall sardonically replied, tongue sharp. “Wanna give us a blast of New York, New York and fuck off?”

“I wanted to say something,” their father said.

Shiv retorted something else, and Kendall snickered under his breath. The buzzing in your ears grew louder.

“I guess I just wanted you there, a bit,” Logan said. “At my party.”

It was a play. Was it? Yes, of course. But if it wasn’t…

But it was.

“Holy shit,” Kendall crooned. “Did Dad just say a feeling?”

“Well, you know. I thought maybe it would be nice,” said Logan.

With exaggerated motions of his hands, Kendall exclaimed, “Oh, fuck! Now it’s all coming out! Oh, my God, Mr. Melodrama here! It’s like a fucking telenovela!”

Connor gestured between Kendall and his dad. “Come on, guys. He’s trying.”

Logan smiled, calm. “Y/N, dear,” he began. Your eyes snapped up to meet his and your spine seemed to grow rigid. “I had a lovely chat with your father. He was… surprised that you’re no longer holding Waystar together. Wouldn’t it be a shame, considering all the money he’s invested into the company? You’re setting millions on fire.”

The siblings all looked at you, curious. You swallowed, finding your throat painfully dry, despite all the champagne you’d been sipping prior to Logan’s arrival.

“If they expected me to stay at Waystar my entire life, they were always bound to be disappointed,” you responded, careful. “I won’t be tied down.”

A twitch of the old man’s mouth. Down or up or perhaps it hadn’t moved at all. “A shame. You worked so hard to compose acquisition branch details on Pierce just under a year ago. So much paperwork.” He shook his head. “And all of you—you knew I wanted Pierce ever since then. When I lost out, it wasn’t a good feeling.”

Fed up, Shiv finally leaned forward and hissed out, “I’m sorry, can we just cut the shit? It’s obvious why you’re here, Dad!”

Unsuspectingly, Kerry chimed, “Your father wanted to address the personal stuff and not just launch into business.”

Shiv’s jaw clicked. “Well, see, this isn’t personal, Dad. This is a business decision. This is about the money.”

Logan bobbed his head. “Look, you’re smart to ask about the money. You are. But Matsson—he won’t go there. You haven’t been around this, but I’ve got done a good deal and you’ll get enough to do whatever you want. I do ATN, you do Pierce. It’ll be a fresh start for all of us. It’ll make things better, and it starts there. All you have to do is… vote yes and support the deal.”

There was an uneasy shift next to you—Roman looked torn.

“You can separate the personal from the business,” Kerry offered. “Reset your dynamic as a family.”

Shiv snorted. “Oh, super! It’s gonna be just like how it used to—summer vacay and road trip musicals!”

Hesitant, Roman supplied, “It just… it may be more complicated than that, dad.”

“I guess you’re still in the honeymoon phase,” Shiv told Kerry, cold and sarcastic. “Getting your own show on TV… amazing.”

The dark-haired woman glanced around, seeming to shrink further into her seat.

“No?” Roman asked, his attention piqued. Anything to latch onto to make everything feel less—tortuous. “You’re not going to be on TV now?”

Shiv laughed. “Has he fucked you on that?”

Kendall nodded. “That’ll happen. The fucking. But congrats on losing your betrayal cherry—”

“Enough!” Logan said. It wasn’t loud, but heavy with finality. Your pulse skipped a beat, scratching down your ribcage almost painfully. Logan looked tired. “I though you’d be interested in an apology, but that’s enough.”

Incredulous, Shiv held a hand out. “Wait, what? An apology? We missed that, I think.”

Logan fixed an intense stare over all his children. “Look, I don’t do apologies. But if it means so much to you, then… sorry.”

In all your years of living, you’re not sure you’ve ever heard Logan apologize before. Was it genuine? Was it real? There was a long, terse silence. Roman stared at his father with his mouth slightly agape. You wrapped your arms around your stomach and stared at the door. Connor was looking down at his shoes. Kendall aimlessly observed Logan, finding that the apology he’d yearned for so many years of his life seemed to fall incredibly flat.

Shiv just about glared at her father in a challenging fashion, lips pursing tight. “There is nothing you could say to me now that I would ever believe.”

“This deal push could be worth a hundred mil to us, Dad,” said Kendall. “How many sorrys do we get for that?”

Kerry was starting to say something, but Roman butted in, looking incredibly troubled. “What are you actually sorry for, Dad? Are we actually doing this? Because I think, you know… seriously, what fucked all of this was when… it all happened with Mom in Italy.”

Logan averted his gaze to the carpeted ground. “Yeah, okay. I’ve had certain thoughts about that. With the best of intentions, I got the structure of the holding company, and the ownership structure of the family trust. There is a lack of clarity, and maybe you got a—”

“Amazing,” Shiv deadpanned, cutting her father off. “You sure you’re not having a seizure?”

For the first time in a very long time, Connor raised his voice at his baby sister. “He’s trying, Shiv! You said you were interested in an apology!”

Shiv glared at her father again. In a less harsh tone, she asked, “Anything else, Dad?”

There was a long pause. You wondered if Logan was haggling for words.

“Come on, Dad,” Kendall goaded. “What are you sorry for?”

It felt like bullying, almost. In a severely twisted way.

Kendall continued on, “Are you sorry for fucking ignoring Connor his whole life?”

“Bit strong,” protested Connor.

“Hitting Rome when he was a kid?” Kendall pointed at Roman, who shrugged.

“Oh, no—I mean, everyone hit me. I’m fucking annoying.”

You frowned at Roman’s words, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Having Connor’s mom locked up?” Kendall continued on.

Something twisted in the eldest Roy sibling’s expression. “Can we not do a whole show trial here?”

Finally, Shiv hissed out, “Okay, what about advising Tom on my divorce? Yeah? I mean, that took effort. That was above and beyond.”

“Tom asked me for advice,” said Logan. It didn’t go past everyone’s notice how he ignored all the rest of the hurtled accusations. “I recommended someone he could speak to. You weren’t around. If you’d been around, I would’ve offered you the same advice. But I can’t help you if you don’t see me.”

Shiv was hurt. It was clear as day, even if she refused to show it. She built up a wall, a front, brick by brick, and spun her hurt feelings into a low-flamed fury.

“Bottom line is, if we ask for more money, Matsson walks. I know that.”

“No!” Shiv asserted. There was something firmer in her tone this time. Angrier. “You don’t know that! You don’t know him! You don’t fucking know everything! Just because you say it doesn’t make it true! Everyone just fucking agrees with you and believes you so it becomes true—and then you can turn around and say oh! You see? I was right! But that’s just—that’s not how it is. You’re a human fucking gaslight!”

The silence that stretched across the room was thin. You were afraid to breathe, and so you bit down on your tongue.

Logan nodded and nodded. The brothers were quiet.

And so you felt compelled to say something. Sick with nerves, but compelled nonetheless. “Matsson has been fucking the company since the very start of negotiations. It’s only fair if you… bite him back.”

Logan watched you. There was something in his eyes that seemed to soften, but it was near imperceptible. Maybe you were simply seeing what you wanted to see. “I can’t take that risk,” he finally said. “Look, I just wanted to get us all together. What you kids don’t realize… this is a good deal. The world likes it. It makes sense. But deals have a habit of disappearing because pricks like Matsson get pissed off or snubbed. This… this is fucking real.”

You turned your head away and stared at the door once more. You wanted to leave. Crawl into bed and stop thinking about it all. Beside you, Roman was biting down on his thumb. A nervous habit.

“Okay, I think I can speak for everyone when I say this… go ask him for more money, Dad.” Shiv narrowed her eyes at her father.

“Why?” Logan asked. Are you not satisfied with what you already have? was the unsaid, lingering question hanging in the air.

Kendall tilted his head up. “Just good business sense. Gotta make our own pile. Right, Dad?”

“Yeah, I just have to listen to my gut. I just gotta go with what my gut says,” Shiv piled on.

“Oh, come on. Jesus.” Logan pulled at his face, tired. In a span of five, maybe ten minutes… he seemed to age a decade. Finally, finally, the nice mask slipped. He leaned back in the velvet seat and spat out, “You’re such fucking dopes.”

Roman’s nose twitched and he shifted so he could lean further into you. You let him.

“You are not serious figures,” Logan went on. “I love you… but you are not serious people.”

His eyes were glassy for a second, but you weren’t exactly sure, because he stood up and hurriedly strode out of the karaoke room the very next second. No goodbyes. Kerry followed close behind him.

The hazy purple lights were beginning to make you nauseous.

Everybody sat in silence for a little while longer. Let the conversation marinate. Shiv poured herself a drink and smiled into the rim, expression victorious.

“How was it for you guys?” she asked the group. “Fucking Dad, that is.”

“Amazing. Just over too soon. I could’ve kept going,” Kendall admitted.

Roman abruptly stood up, scratching the back of his head uncomfortably. He made a noise of disgust.

“Rome, we’re kidding, man,” Kendall said.

He began to pace around, like a caged animal. “No, I know. It’s fine. It’s cool.”

Connor also stood up, shrugging on his jacket. “Well… I’m going home. ‘M tired.”

“G’night, Con,” you said. He reached over the couch to give you a one-armed hug from behind. “She’ll come home. Willa.”

“It’s fine,” Connor said.

Kendall arched a brow. “Really?”

“Yeah.” There was a nod and a tap of his shoe. “The good thing about having a family that doesn’t love you is that you learn to live without it.”

Shiv’s face crumpled. “What? Con, that’s not—”

With a shake of his head, Connor scoffed. “You’re all chasing after Dad saying, “Oh, please, love me, love me, I need love, I need attention!””

“I think that’s the opposite of what just happened,” Shiv argued.

“You’re needy love sponges,” Connor pressed. “And I’m a plant that grows on rocks and lives off insects that die inside of me.”

Shiv laughed, Roman huffed, and Kendall stayed silent.

“If Willa doesn’t come back, that’s fine. ‘Cause I don’t need love. It’s like a superpower,” he said. “And if she comes back and doesn’t love me, that’s okay too. I don’t need it. Thanks for the party.” With that, he stepped out of the karaoke room.

You jolted out of your seat, ignoring Roman’s questions as to where you were going. You rushed out the door after Connor, nearly tripping over your own feet in your haste.

“Connor!” you called out. The older man halted in the middle of the dimly lit hallway.

“What? I’m not looking for pity, Y/N—”

You shuffled forward the last few steps and put your hand on his elbow. “Con, I just… I wanted to say—” You shook your head and wrapped your arms around him. “You’re my brother. I know you are. And… even if you don’t need love or whatever you were on about in there… I’ll still love you anyway. Okay? I don’t need you to need my love. You’ll have it.”

There was a momentary pause before Connor jerkily moved to pat your back and hug you back. Loose, but solid.

“You’re just a kid. A kid with my kid brother,” he said once he pulled away, rubbing his palms up and down your forearms. His eyes seemed to be watery and tired, but he laughed right from his belly. “I love you, too, kid.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course.”

The two of you grinned at each other.

“G’night, Con.” He let you go when you stepped back. “Big day tomorrow.”

“Yeah…” Connor nodded. “Big day.”

He walked off, and you watched him go. When you heard the door open, you turned to see Roman peeking his head out.

“Hey, Rome,” you greeted. “I love you, you know that?”

His eyes roamed over your face, and he smiled back. It was lopsided and slight. “Mmkay. Yeah, me too, fuckface. You feeling okay?”

“Yeah. Should get home.” You craned your neck to lean forward, affectionately pecking his cheek. “You coming with?”

He shifted his weight from foot to foot. Eyes to the ground, then to the walls. Not on you.

“Not… not yet. I’ll come in a bit. Just need to grab something from my place first.”

His place was barren. Everything in his place, you had in yours. You probably had more of his clothes in your closet than his own. You regarded him with a curious look, but decided not to press further.

“Okay, Rome. You have the key. Just don’t jostle me awake when you climb into bed.”

He guffawed. “I’ll sleep on the floor then, your royal majesty.”

“Thank you.”

“I was joking. Just so you know. You prick.”

“I know. I wouldn’t want you to sleep on the floor, anyway. A waste of body heat.”

He kissed you then, surging forward to chase after your lips. You hummed in pleasant surprise, but kissed him back with just as much vigor. His lips were a darker shade of pink when he pulled away.

“See you at home, Roman.” After a final pat on his cheek, it was your turn to walk off.

Roman wrung his hands nervously. There’d been a text to his phone while you were out talking to Connor—from his Dad. He glanced back at the door, where Shiv and Kendall were still speaking to each other inside. He rolled his shoulders and began to slowly walk out of the building, careful not to bump into you.

He was going to go pay his father a visit.

The top spot at ATN. Was it a tempting offer in it of itself or was it just tempting because his father was goading him to lick off the silver platter?

When he told you, and of course he told you, you just about blew up—in the most professional, stick-in-ass way possible—warning him not to take the offer with a strained voice and wide eyes. Not even consider it. ATN wasn’t where he wanted to be. His father was offering him a cyanide pill, obscured by a layer of fucking strawberries and cream.

The next morning, he numbly got dressed for Connor’s wedding. Got into the car after you, pinching your thigh once he clambered in next to you. His father called him on the way there, much to your dismay, telling him to come with him to meet Matsson, despite Connor’s wedding being literal hours away.

Roman turned him down. But he didn’t turn Logan away when he told Roman to fire Gerri since, apparently, he was beginning to lose faith in her.

You were pretending not to listen to their conversation, but he knew you were. He could tell by the way your jaw seemed to twitch at the prospect of cutting Gerri loose.

“Shit,” he breathed out once Logan hung up on him. “That’s fucking… bullshit.”

You drew your eyes away from the window, regarding him with narrowed eyes. “Don’t do it, Rome.”

Everything felt crowded and tense all of a sudden. Roman squared his shoulders defensively. There was a stinging quip on the tip of his tongue, but nothing seemed to come out other than a rather passive, “Mmh.”

The rest of the drive to the wedding venue was silent. But your hand came to lace with his, and that made him feel just a bit better.

Once there, about half a dozen cameras swarmed the two of you coming out of the car, taking several candid shots, much to your irritation. It was only expected, what with Connor being in the run for president and the whole wedding being a PR move, anyway. But you gave them a smile nonetheless, made a show of kissing Roman’s cheek and walked off to greet other work acquaintances and wedding guests. From the corner of your eye, you could see Roman trying to talk to Gerri with a rather terse look on his face. You tried not to pay him any mind. He was digging his own grave.

Half an hour later, the wedding planner announced for family and friends to start boarding the boat. The few businesswomen you were chatting to kissed you on the cheek and told you they’d see you soon. You waved them goodbye and made your way onto the boat. Kissed and hugged and congratulated Willa. She looked beautiful in her wedding dress, even if she didn’t appear all too happy wearing it. After a short conversation, you moved on into the boat.

It was lavishly decorated, screaming luxury and American patriotism. There was a concerning amount of blue and red strewn everywhere. They weren’t being very subtle, were they?

You made your way onto the second floor, greeted by Kendall in a pair of sunglasses.

“Hey, loser,” he said, nudging you in the side. “You look nice.”

“Thanks,” you replied, giving him a quick once over. “You look shitty. Hiding your terrible eyebags behind those shades, are you? Not doing a very good job, by the way.”

He seemed unfazed by your jab. “You excited for the wedding?”

“Neither Connor nor Willa seem too hot about it,” you told him with a mild grimace. On your way to the boat, you heard Connor yelling at his wedding planner about the cake being inadequate.

Kendall shrugged and pulled a nonchalant expression. “It’ll blow over. They’ll be fine.”

“I know. It just feels so… fake. All of it.” You jerked your head toward a frilly blue, red, and white banner.

“Yeah, well, yours won’t be,” he said, scrutinizing you behind those ridiculous shades of his. “With Rome, I mean.”

“Wow! Yeah, well, we aren’t quite there yet, I think.” You laughed and rolled your eyes to the ceiling. “Besides, I can’t guarantee that you’re even invited to this hypothetical wedding. Who knows? I can never tell with you guys. You’re always five minutes away from ruining each other’s lives or being best friends.”

“I’ll crash your wedding if I’m not invited. It’s my baby brother, dude. I have to be there,” he said. You couldn’t tell if it was a joke or not.

“Good to know,” came your lighthearted retort. “I’ll be sure to save a slice of cake for you.”

With that, you bumped your fist into his bicep and walked off. Then, you spotted Roman out on deck, phone in his hand. You stepped out just in time to hear him bark out, “Don’t listen to this if you don’t want to—but I’m not… I’m not, uh, totally okay with… are you kinda just being shitty with me, Dad? ‘Cause… your son is getting married, and you can’t fucking just keep expecting me to bend over for you and being cunty, so I’m just asking. Yeah—that’s the question, actually. Are you a cunt? Okay. Give me a buzz.”

There were a few seconds of silence after he hung up. You approached him from behind and slung both your arms around his waist, resting your chin on his shoulder.

“Hey, fuckface,” he said. He sounded tired. Distressed.

“Hey,” you quietly said in reply. “I’m proud of you.”

“For calling Dad a cunt?”

“Yeah.” You huffed out a laugh. “I really am proud of you.”

Roman leaned back against you and hummed. “I just got on this boat and I already want to fucking leave.”

“That’ll break Connor’s heart.”

“I know. I’m his favorite brother.”

“I think Shiv is his favorite brother, actually.”

The two of you laughed, and he didn’t bother arguing back.

“Come on. I think Kendall and Shiv are looking for you,” you said, tugging him inside.

The two of you greeted the three other Roy siblings, where Connor was giving a rundown of his plan for Logan.

“Okay, so the idea is that Dad will pop by, be dockside, and you guys will just be up here. I think that’s cleanest,” Connor told all of you.

Shiv pursed her lips and tilted her head. “Oh… okay. You really think he’s going to pop by?”

“I spoke with Kerry,” Connor said with a smile, crossing his fingers. “He’s hoping.”

With a nod of thanks, he gave you and Roman both a quick hug, before rushing back downstairs to be with his wife-to-be.

“Well, someone’s gotta tell him,” said Shiv. “We should tell him.”

“We should,” Kendall agreed. Both you and Roman nodded.

“Well, Shiv, you are his favorite,” you offered.

The woman’s face regarded you as if you’d just stabbed her in the back. “No, come on—really?”

“He likes you,” Kendall insisted.

“Fine,” she sighed with slitted eyes. “I’ll be the wedding Grinch. Fuck you.”

The three of you watched her go with muted snickers.

Then, Roman’s phone began to buzz. He fished it out of his pocket and let out an annoyed groan upon seeing Tom’s caller ID.

“Oh my—ugh,” Roman hastily pressed on the green answer button, “Hello? Fucky-sucky brigade, how can I help you? Yeah?”

You leaned onto the fancy leather couches next to Kendall, who was staring out the window, watching the gentle waves roil over the surface of the harbor. “Hey, Ken?”

“Mmh?”

“I’d invite you, you know.”

Kendall’s eyes left the waters to look at you. “What?”

“To my wedding. Before I said I couldn’t guarantee you a spot—but I’d want you there.”

Something akin to gratitude flashed across his face. Before he could say anything, Roman’s panicked voice echoed over, and the both of you snapped your heads towards him.

“What?” he said into the phone. “Tom, what are you—?”

“What?” Kendall asked, immediately on his feet. “What’s happening?”

You followed suit, the two of you hovering over Roman’s sides.

His palms grew white over the phone. “It’s—uh, Tom. Apparently Dad’s sick. Uh, what do you mean he’s sick? Sick, like—Tom? What’s going on? Are you still there?”

“Where is he now?” you asked, brows furrowed. Roman could only shake his head, equally clueless, pulling the phone away so he could put it on speaker.

“Is he okay?” Kendall immediately asked. “Who’s with him?”

There was a lot of rustling and rummaging. It felt as if your heart had crawled its way into your throat.

“It—it seems bad. Very, very bad. I’m so sorry to call you like this,” Tom’s voice crackled through.

“What?” you croaked. “What is it, though? Like, a fever?”

“Can you put him on the phone?” Roman asked. His voice shook and his brows were pulled tightly together.

Again, Kendall asked the same questions, “Who’s there? Tom, what’s going on? What happened?”

“Ah—” You could practically see Tom scratching at his head. “He was short of breath and he went into the bathroom. And, well, uh, someone heard something and we were concerned, and they went in there.”

Kendall used his hands to gesticulate to nobody in particular. “They broke in?”

“They broke in, yeah. They had the key and they got in, but he’s not responsive.”

“Not responsive?” you parroted, eyes widening. This was far worse than just… sick. “Like—is he conscious?”

The brothers started to blurt out a multitude of questions, concerns exponentially heightened.

“Is he talking? Can he talk?” Kendall asked.

“Is he breathing?” Roman’s shoulders were hunched over, as if he was trying to shrink in on himself.

There was a brief pause. Uncomfortable and festered with fear.

“They’re doing chest compressions,” Tom’s voice pierced through.

Your lungs seemed to contract in panic at his words. The room felt all the smaller.

“Oh!” Roman exclaimed in a mixture of both shock and anguish. “Fuck.”

Kendall only pressed on with his queries. “Has his heart stopped?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you guys have the machine on board? The heart thing?” Roman asked.

“The defibrillator,” you said, clutching both your anxious, wringing hands to your chest.

How had the day turned on its head so quickly?

“Is Siobhan there?” Tom’s voice was patchy and unclear. It was hard to hear over Kendall’s barrage of frustration.

“No, she’s not,” said Roman.

“Karl said that maybe he’s breathing,” Tom claimed.

Leaning forward, you hissed out, “Karl isn’t a medical professional, Tom. Who’s trained in there?”

“The, uh, the people. The attendant. I’ll put you on speaker—here’s, uh, Karl, here—”

The older man’s voice buzzed through, “That captain has been informed. The cabin staff are receiving medical advice from their service.”

Both Kendall and Roman barked questions over each other. Faintly, you heard an additional third voice in the back of the call.

“Is that Frank?” you asked.

Tom cleared his throat. “Yeah, so—Frank thinks you guys should speak to him. And I can—I can hold the phone near him if you’d like.”

Roman bit down on his tongue, angry. “Why does Frank think that, Tom?”

“I guess if it’s a last chance, you know. I think it’s the last chance.”

A shudder and a glare from Roman to the phone. “What the fuck do you mean, Tom?”

“You think he’s gonna die?” you whispered, eyes stinging as you stared down at the screen, watching the seconds of the call tick by.

“He’s… he’s not in good shape. They’re doing chest compressions.”

“Well, should they be doing that?” Roman just about yelled at the phone. You placed a hand on his hunched shoulder.

Frank began talking again, “They’re getting advice, they know what they’re doing. But I think you should talk to him. I’m not sure he’s breathing.”

The two both spluttered angrily. In denial, in frustration, in utter devastation.

“We just heard that he was breathing two seconds ago, Frank. You shouldn’t be doing CPR on someone who’s heart is still going! What the fuck is going on, Frank?” Kendall gritted out.

“I’ll put you by his ear,” Tom said. “I’ll put you right by him. He’ll be able to hear you if—if he can.”

If you hadn’t been so hyperfocused on the call, you would’ve realized that your entire body began to simultaneously tremble and tense, like a plank of wood caught in a hurricane.

“Uh, you might wanna get Shiv, so she can—”

“Yeah, we’ll—we’ll get her,” said Roman.

“Okay, I’ll put you by him now.”

“Is he okay?”

“No, Rome, he’s not okay.”

“You can speak now. Go ahead.”

There was a blistering silence. Roman gestured for Kendall to take the phone first, but he shook his head. He turned to you, but you weren’t even looking in his direction, clamoring for your own phone to try and contact Karolina. Your hands seemed not to work in coordination with your mind, because you struggled getting your phone to unlock, and then struggled even more to open up the right app to get to your contacts list.

This left Roman to speak to his maybe-dead dad on his own. He hurried around the room, as if there was going to be a corner on this wretched yacht that would make this somewhat easier to say. He ended up crouching by the end of the leather couch.

“Hey, Dad. I, uh, hope you’re okay. You’re okay. You’re going to be okay.” Was he reassuring himself or his father? “Because you’re a—you’re a monster, and you’re going to win. ‘Cause you just—you just win. That’s what you do. And you’re, uh… you’re a good man. You’re a good dad. A very good dad. Uh… you did a good job. No—no. I’m sorry, I don’t know how to do that.”

With that, Roman unceremoniously stood up and shoved his phone right into your palms, tugging away your own. “It’s your turn.”

Your shaking grew all the worse, but you put on a brave face and held it up to your face.

“Oh, uhm—hi, Uncle Logan. You, uhm… oh—I wasn’t prepared or this, you know, I would’ve… I would’ve, if I’d known, I wouldn’t have…”

It occurred to you that you managed to say absolutely nothing in the precious few seconds he had left. This sent you spiraling into another bout of anxious trembling. You only barely registered Roman’s own shaking hand on your side.

“You were so—such a big role in my life. So important. And—and, and, I really couldn’t have done anything without your help. Thank you. For everything. I… I love you, Uncle Lo. Really, I do. And I love your kids like my own siblings, and—and Rome, I’m—I love him. I promise I’ll, uh, I’ll take care of him. I just—uhm, I can’t really, there are just so many things you…”

Your nails scratched over your chest as you heaved out a shuddering breath. Realizing you couldn’t finish, you made your way over to Kendall and handed the phone to him with teary eyes.

“Okay,” Kendall said with the phone by his nose, blinking helplessly at the ground. “Hang in there. Yeah? Uhm…”

“It’ll be okay,” Roman softly whispered to him.

“It’ll be okay,” Kendall repeated into the phone. “We love you, Dad. Okay? We love you. I love you, Dad. I do. I love you, okay? Uh—and… it’s okay. Even though you fucking… I don’t know. I can’t—I can’t forgive you.”

You sniffled and wiped a stray tear with the sleeve of your dress.

After a few final words, Kendall handed the phone back to Roman. Tom’s voice crackled through again, asking for Shiv.

“Ken’s gonna get Shiv,” Roman said, voice small and child-like. Kendall nodded and staggered his way out of the room.

There was more commotion on the other end of the line.

“What’s going on now?” Roman asked.

“I, uhm—there’s, I’m not so sure—” Tom’s glitchy voice replied. “I think he’s gone, Roman.”

“What?” you asked.

“I think—I don’t know, I think there might not be a pulse, they’re not—”

A few seconds passed, with only scuffling noises on the other end. Shiv and Kendall appeared through the doorway just a minute later.

“They think he’s gone,” Roman told his sister as he handed the phone to her. “They think he’s dead.”

“What?” Shiv asked, her eyes welling up almost instantaneously. “No! I… I can’t have that.”

Tom spoke a few words to his wife, telling her that he was putting the phone back by Logan’s ear. Shiv strode away to ramble to her father in a semi-panicked fashion. She called him Dad at first, which spiraled into whisper-cries of Daddy, and angry curses intermingled with a multitude of I love yous.

You tugged at your face, aching with all the tension you were carrying. Roman’s hand was on your arm, but he left your side half a minute later to take the phone away from Shiv, who seized up with incoherent noises through blurred tears. He hugged her, but she didn’t return it, frozen on the spot.

The siblings all asked him more questions.

“Is he okay at all?” Kendall asked.

“He’s not okay, no,” replied Tom. “He’s not.”

Shiv sucked in a shaky breath. “Is he gone? Tom?”

A brief pause.

“They say his heart stopped and his breathing stopped, too. For a while, maybe.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t mean he’s dead, medically!” Roman asserted. “Right?”

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that it did mean exactly that.

“I don’t know,” came Tom’s calm voice. “They’re still doing chest compressions.”

Kendall began to order Tom around, then Frank, then Jess. Something about getting the best doctor in the world. The best airplane medicine expert, whatever that meant. He disappeared out of the room to go up to the deck. You took a seat on the couch and sank your face into your palms.

When Kendall returned, his face was solemn and set in stone. “Frank thinks he’s gone,” he said.

Roman sank down on the ground, right by your feet. Shiv took a seat next to you.

“Why didn’t you come and get me?” Shiv sniffled, looking up at her big brother.

“I—Shiv, I did. We did,” Kendall said.

“No, but I was right out there. How long was it happening before?”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m—I wasn’t thinking—” Kendall shook his head.

Roman drew in a sharp breath. “There was no time. I promise you, there was no time at all.”

Kendall took his little sister’s hand and repeated his apologies. The sight made more tears spill over your cheeks.

“I’m sorry, guys,” you hoarsely said. “He’s not even my dad.”

“No, it’s…” Roman patted your knee. “He was. He is. Kind of.”

“It’s just—on the phone Tom said that Kerry spoke to him. Quite a bit,” Shiv said, voice bitter.

“I don’t know,” said Kendall. “I don’t—we don’t know if he could hear us.”

Another sniffle. Shiv nodded a bit. “Yeah. I’m just sad, I guess.”

Roman shifted uncomfortably, looking up at his siblings and you with large, worried eyes. “Uh—do we know if he was on his phone at all? Like, if he checked his messages or anything?”

Faintly, you recalled Roman leaving a voice message for him. Right. Roman had called his father a cunt. And you’d said you were proud of him for it. Nausea pressed fervently against the inside of your stomach. Roman drew in a sharp, stressful breath.

“Rome, it’s okay,” Kendall assured him. “We’re okay. You did good.”

The words didn’t sit with you well. You did good—as if it were one last performance before the curtains closed. The circus monkey and the ringleader.

“Yeah, I know,” he quickly replied. Roman’s expression crumpled. “I don’t know if—I just don’t know. Like, if I said… I just feel like I didn’t—did I even say I loved him?”

Kendall nodded. “I think so, yeah.”

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t,” Roman asserted. The grip he had on your knee tightened. “Do you know?”

“Ro, hon, I’m—” The words lodged in your throat as you reached out to brush your knuckles over his cheekbone. “He knows.”

“No, but I really don’t think I did—” Roman jerked away to lean closer to the phone Tom was calling through. “Tom, could you put me back to his ear for—ergh, fuck it. Never mind. I don’t know. Maybe just keep the line open.”

If Tom replied, you didn’t hear.

Instead, you glanced out the doorway, where you saw Connor speaking to some other wedding guests. He didn’t know.

“Oh, fuck. We need to get Connor. We need to tell him,” Roman said, following your gaze. “Can you do it, Ken? I don’t think I can. I mean, I could, I definitely could, I just—”

Kendall nodded solemnly, and stood up. Shiv offered to go with him, rising to her feet and drawing in a deep breath in a fruitless attempt to maintain her long-gone composure.

“Thank you,” Roman said from the ground. He crossed his legs and leaned against the side of your shins. In turn, you placed your hands on his shoulders and squeezed reassuringly.

“I don’t remember the last thing I said to him,” you mumbled, voice filled with irritating tremors and warbles. “In that karaoke room. I don’t remember any of it, and I wasn’t even drunk or anything, I just—”

Roman pressed his cheek against your thigh, shutting his eyes. “I think you were okay. I don’t know. Maybe he heard us. And you have such a nice voice, y’know? Maybe it was good for him. If he heard it.”

The two of you sat in stuffy silence for a few minutes more.

The three other siblings came to fetch the two of you sooner than you would’ve liked—whisking all of you upstairs to a more secluded room. Connor had tears in his eyes when all of you filed in, face wrought with anguish. “What happened?” he asked, sounding utterly devastated.

Roman apologized over and over again, but made no attempts to explain to him. Instead, he reached forward to grab at his oldest brother’s arm in a strange sort of semi-hug as Kendall filled Connor in on what happened.

“Well, actually, we don’t really know that he’s gone,” Roman asserted to the rest of you, drawing away from them.

Both Kendall and Shiv began to clamor over the likelihood of Logan’s death. They seemed surprised that Roman was clinging onto such hope that he was alive. You watched Roman with such sad eyes that when he looked at you, he found himself growing even more upset.

“What?” he asked you crossly, brows drawing together. “Why are you looking at me like that? He—he could still fucking be alive! We don’t know! Are you going to trust, what, like, fucking Frank and Karl’s word on it? Don’t look at me like I’m crazy!”

“Right, well, you sound delusional, Rome,” Shiv tried telling him. You could tell she was trying to lay it easy on him and be nice, but it didn’t quite sound that way.

The siblings argued some more. Roman kept denying that Logan was dead, while Shiv gritted out that he’s gone.

“All I’m saying is that we don’t know for sure. And—and until we do know, it’s just not a very nice thing to say, is it? So just fucking stop!” Roman yelled the last word out, and it ricocheted across the room like a bullet would.

They all fell silent for a moment.

“Okay,” Shiv said. She looked to be on the verge of crying again. With quiet, reassuring words, Connor wrapped an arm around his little sister and let her lean against him.

“Roman,” you said, making his eyes snap to you. They were red and looked so tired. You were sure yours looked just the same. When you spread your arms as a non-verbal invite, he surged forward and buried himself into your embrace. The two of you held onto each other as if you were both lifeboats for one another in this vast sea of fucking nothing.

Kendall, disillusioned, went back to staring out the window.

“He didn’t want us together,” Roman choked out, forehead drooped onto your sternum. “He fucking—he told me to end it, and I didn’t listen, and I just never listened to him…”

Both your hands rubbed up and down his back. “I know. I know, Rome. I love you even if he didn’t want me to.”

Your words made Roman’s shoulders curl closer to his chest. Closer to you. “Fuck. Me, too, okay? Me, too.”

Half an hour later, the boat began moving away from the dock, much to all of your chagrin.

Hugo had also come into the room, acting as a liaison. He told the lot of you that the plane-folk were starting to draft a statement to release to the news. The siblings angrily called them to ask what was going on—which did little to sway them.

Not too long after, Gerri came in to offer her condolences. Her presence made Roman all the more turbulent, and he lashed out at her, telling her to fuck off.

Shiv asked her godmother if maybe they could stay up in the air a bit longer to give everyone some more time to think—and Roman told her to fuck off, too. At that point, you stepped in to say that it’s probably best not to delay the inevitable. Thankfully, Roman didn’t tell you to fuck off at that.

“Just to say,” Kendall said once both Hugo and Gerri hurried off to answer calls and get more information, “every single thing we say and do today… it’s all going in the memoirs, going in the fucking congressional record, it’s coming up at board meetings, it’s going in SEC filings.”

“God, Kendall,” you said, pinching the space between your brows. “Your grief is not a fucking spectacle, okay? It’s not—none of this is meant to be a performance. You can… you can be a fucking human being for once, okay?”

“No, but, listen, I’m agreeing with you,” he said, holding out a hand. “If we tell them to circle the plane around to buy us time, then some fucking rumors start up, and we get crucified for being cold-hearted, or—I don’t even know. We’re highly liable to misinterpretation right now. What we do today will always be what we did the day our father died. So I’m agreeing with you, Y/N. We shouldn’t delay the inevitable.”

Nose flaring, Shiv shook her head in a frustrated manner.

“So, you know, let’s grieve and whatever,” Kendall continued on, “but not do anything that restricts our future freedom of movement.”

“Okay,” you whispered, nodding in agreement. “Okay, Kendall. We’ll be careful.”

The siblings stepped out to discuss drafting statements themself, and you told them you’d arrange transport off the boat to the airport, where they’d be landing.

Before you reconvened with them, however, you dropped by to see Connor one last time.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered with a frown that felt strangely childish, enveloping him in a hug. “I’m sorry your dad died, and I’m sorry I won’t be here to see you get married. Everything’s gone to shit and I hate that I can’t do anything about it.”

“It’s okay,” Connor said, rubbing your back comfortingly, not unsimilar to what you did with Roman. “It’s okay, kiddo. I appreciate you coming here to tell me.”

You pulled away, using the back of your palm to brush away your tears. “I got you, uhm—as a wedding present, I got you an oil painting kit. It’s not much, but I thought it’d be fun to try it out with you one day. I guess I just didn’t think—I thought I’d be able to give it to you after the ceremony, but… I don’t think I’ll be around. I’m sorry.”

Connor nodded, and smiled at you sadly. “It’s like you haven’t changed at all in twenty years, you know that? I feel so fuckin’ old.”

“Have a happy wedding, Con,” you told him. With that, you turned on your heel and headed off, breathing out a sigh of relief upon seeing a smaller boat right by the one you were on, ready to take you back to land.

One boat ride, one helicopter flight, and one private car later, you arrived at Teterboro Airport, where their plane touched down. Logan was announced dead at arrival. Roman balked and nearly puked up what little he’d eaten on the boat—you rubbed his back and told him everything was okay as he dry-retched nothing in the airport bathroom. There were already dozens of news reporters and journalists flooding the entrance-way for the impromptu press conference the Roy siblings were holding.

Before the sun was down, the news was spilled at the hands of Shiv. It was short and concise, over in no more than a minute. Questions, questions, and more questions—none of which were answered.

“Are we going to go see him?” Roman asked once it was all over. The plane was in view.

“Do we have to?” Kendall replied.

“I mean, he’s not going to be angry if we don’t,” Shiv replied. The rest of you smiled in silence.

Then, Kendall opened his arms, and the four of you leaned into a brief group hug. You kissed Shiv’s cheek and told her to get home safe. She nodded and took her leave.

Roman jutted his head in the direction of the plane. “I’m gonna go see him. You coming, Kendall?”

The oldest scuffed his shoe into the concrete pathway. “I’m gonna—I’ll watch him come down from here.”

“Okay,” said Roman. There was no surprise in his tone, but it lacked any sort of harsh judgment.

“I’ll come with you,” you told Roman, taking his hand. “If you’re going to go see him, I’ll come with you.”

“Didn’t expect anything less,” he replied, eyes soft and sad.

With a nod of goodbye at Kendall, the two of you left him to stand by the airport exit.

“Do you think he would’ve been okay with us being together eventually, though?” Roman asked after a while, growing increasingly nervous as you neared the plane. Even now that his father was dead, he was still grasping for his approval.

There was a moment of contemplative silence. You wondered if you truly knew the answer to that, or if you were simply feeding into the kind-hearted caricature of a man Logan often didn’t live up to.

“I think so,” you replied. Roman squeezed your hand. “I think he would’ve been proud of us for sticking together, even if he didn’t want us to at first. He would’ve respected you for it, eventually, because you didn’t take his shit.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” You beckoned to the stairs leading up into the plane’s cabin. “You ready?”

“No.” Roman’s jaw squared. “I’m scared, I think. But I have to go see him. You don’t have to come, you know. You don't have to be so fucking good all the time. You can just leave if you want to.”

With a contemplative hum, you nodded once after barely giving his words any thought. “I know I don’t have to be here. I know it all, Rome. But I’ll come with you anyway. Anywhere you go.”

Roman raised your conjoined hands, kissed your knuckles in an appreciative manner, and led the way inside.

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moonchildstyles · 2 years

Text

neglect

harrys in an unhappy marriage and didn't realize he was missing so much sunlight until y/n came in

cw: toxic relationship? idk harry's wife isn't nice:(

wordcount: 13.5k+

—————

"Bye, honey. Love you."

Harry didn't realize he had his hopes up for a reciprocated response until nothing came. Minerva left though the door with nothing more than a wave tossed over her shoulder, eyes glued to her phone with a smile that wasn't for him on her lips. He didn't know the last time she said I love you back.

Heaving a sigh that lifted his shoulders before deflating into a slump, Harry locked the front door after his wife as the start of his day alone.

It'd been two weeks since he lost his job in the third round of layoffs his office (ex-office?) was going through. It had been heartbreaking for Harry, having given almost a decade of his life—he was just months short of his ten year anniversary, actually—to this job; having given up on his dreams, and sacrificing time with his family all throughout those years. It all had been thrown away after one bad investor's meeting, leaving him with a measly severance package and a generic goodbye card left on his desk on his last day. As if that day couldn't get any lower, when Minerva finally came home and Harry sat her down to tell her the news, she barely looked up from the ping that lit up her phone screen.

"That's what happens when you stay with a failing company, Harry. You should have been paying more attention."

With that, she had left him to sit alone at the dining room table, his head in his hands as he tried not to let tears fall from his eyes. She always said he was too sensitive, crying would only serve to make her more annoyed with him.

Since then, he had all day long to shop around his resume online and through networking channels, only to field rejection emails by the end of the day. Minerva offered no support, only giving small hums or "I told you so" when she bothered to answer at all when he told her about his day over dinner. It broke his heart.

While their marriage hadn't been anything close to perfect for a very long time (Harry didn't think it really ever had been, the more he thought about it), this was the worst it'd ever been. Minerva was always the harder one out of the two of them, which worked for a long time. It was all about balance, Harry remembered thinking back when they first moved in together after getting engaged. He was the soft one that cried watching romantic movies, and she was the one that would scoff at the logistics and talk about how unrealistic the stories were. She preferred horror with unhappy endings.

It worked, until it didn't.

Something changed after those first months of living together. Since then, Harry had been trying to play catch-up to get on the same page as her, but she seemed to be chapters ahead by the time he was even going in the right direction. His degree was never good enough, his dreams of being a songwriter or music producer were too silly to even entertain, and his family didn't support them enough. By the time he realized Minerva didn't even like him much anymore, let alone love him, he was left with a broken heart.

But, even when he suggested counseling or even one of those couple's retreats that offered hands-on help, she shut him down immediately. That was all hippie shit he should have grown out of after they graduated college, she told him. It was her that brought up divorce, the word that had all but split Harry in half when it hung in the air between them, only for her to shut it down and tell him it wasn't an option as far as she was concerned—it would look bad for her to be a divorcee while she was still trying to climb the corporate ladder. Maybe after she made it to the executive level, she mused, if he still felt this way anyway.

Harry did the only thing he felt he could: pretend everything was normal. If he wanted any chance of not losing his mind, sinking into a depression that he feared he would be unable to climb out of, he had to fall into the motions of loving her. He woke her up with breakfast ready before they'd leave for work—before he lost his job, of course—, telling her goodbye with a kiss to the cheek and hollow declaration of love that he still felt hurt by every time he didn't hear her say it back. When he made it home before her, he'd clean up the house, sorting through bills and mail, and get dinner ready, giving himself just enough time to slip back into his steeled character by the time she came through the front door and ignored him.

But, Harry had always told himself it could be much worse—he was still lucky in some senses of the word, even if some nights he had to search hard for those moments—, and right he was about that. He was currently living through the worst it had ever been, moping around the house and feeling more down on himself than he knew was healthy for the fragile grip he had on his composure.

As anxiety inducing as it all was (was finding a job always this hard or was he really as unimpressive as Minerva said he was?), the free time did allow him to work on projects he'd pushed to the side in favor of his nine-to-five. The attic had been successfully cleaned out and reorganized for the first time since moving in, the walls in the basement finally painted the eggshell blue Minerva picked out years ago, and the garage was spic-and-span. The last couple of days, he'd dedicated his time to maintaining the garden out front as well as the backyard, something he'd found himself enjoying more than any of the previous items on the honey-do list he was working through. His mom had always loved gardening, so he felt a lot closer to home when he plodded through the soil with fresh sprouts.

After spending the first hour of the morning sending out his resume to a fleet of job postings and rifling through his email in hopes of getting anything back about a possible interview, he got changed for his day in the sun. He picked a white tank top with red stitching on the side declaring him as loved (though he didn't always feel that way) to adorn his torso with a pair of black shorts covering his thighs though his knee tattoos were left on display. Pulling his hair back with a tiny clip that left a sprout of hair fluffed on the top of his head, Harry slipped on a pair of large burgundy sunglasses before heading out the front door.

Headphones plugged in his ears, he grabbed his supplies he'd left on the porch, fitting his hands into the pair of sturdy gloves he'd dug out when he cleaned the garage. Along the porch railing was the row of flowers he planned on shoveling into the soil, their planters barely containing the rich blooms rooted inside. The furling petals brought a smile to his face as he got to his knees near the plot of yard that had previously been nothing other than mulch and dandelions. Maybe having a garden out front might sweeten Minerva's sour mood if he did it just right.

Tucking into the soil with the tools he had to reach out to his mom to verify were the right ones for the job, Harry started planting his rose garden. Green bushes with barely there blooms began to line the porch, making the tiny, white picket railing seem that might brighter against the rich hues of the buds. He was lost in his head, humming along to the music playing through his headphones as he built his garden, lavender and candy floss pinks joining his roses as the perfect growing companions.

He didn't know how long he'd been out under the sun until he heard the faint sound of a car running behind him, the thrumming earning a glance over his shoulder. For a split second, he'd worried it was Minerva, home early. He had a feeling she wouldn't be happy to see him tending to the garden, tending to something they could have just hired someone to take care of if he'd been smarter about his career path. Instead, it was the car of the not-so-new neighbor that had moved in next door less than a year ago.

A smile stretched across his face as he peered at her concentrated face through the tint of her window, a furrow to her brow as she navigated parking in the driveway. A breath of relief slumped her shoulders when she did so without incident; Harry understood, he'd seen her patching dings on her car too many times to count since she'd moved in. A clumsy driver, she was.

Harry plucked out his earbud as he sat back on his heels while she rifled through her car for a moment longer before stepping out onto the driveway. A bright smile covered her features as soon as she matched Harry's gaze, lifting his spirits higher than they'd been all day. A bubbly wave tinkled her fingers.

"Hi, Harry!" she chattered out, hiking her bag up her shoulder as she lingered on the concrete.

"Hi, (Y/N)," he reciprocated, his voice coming out a lot dreamier than he anticipated.

"Your garden looks really nice," she beamed at him, toeing the ground with her teeth sinking into the plush of her bottom lip.

"Yeah?" Harry asked, knowing his entire face lit up at the praise, "'M not done yet, but 'm really liking how it's turning out."

"I'm excited to see what it looks like when you have it all together, then," she offered, edging towards the open garage to head inside, "I'll see you around, Harry."

"Bye," he told her, his voice carrying along with her as she went out of view.

His gaze lingered in the spot he swore he saw a phantom of her form still. Even at the sound of the garage door closing signaling he was well and truly alone, Harry could still feel the effects of her presence, no matter how minute the interaction was. Plugging his headphone back in his ear, he went back to his work though he barely made note of anything he was doing.

He liked (Y/N). Probably more than he should.

She was just so sweet, enough so that her attention could make Harry blush. Even the first time they met, he remembered wishing he could have spent more time with her as she flitted about the neighborhood block party. She was a wonderful neighbor, always so considerate even though her roommate was very partial to a late night party now that they'd finally moved into an actual house after a spread of dodgy apartments through their college and some post-grad years (he'd overheard that during the block party). Minerva never seemed to like her much, though. She called her nosy, always talking to their neighbors, and attention-seeking with the way she supposedly paraded around the subdivision in her workout gear while taking her roommate's dog for a walk.

Harry couldn't disagree more when his wife went off on her dislike for their neighbor, but it was something he had to keep to himself. Minerva would have his head if he defended (Y/N) the way he wanted to—with more than a shrug and "she's not like that, honey". Besides, he worried that if he truthfully spoke about how good he felt she was, that his little crush on her would turn into something more troublesome. He already had too many things going on inside his house, he didn't need to add the guilt of something more than a small crush on a nice girl worming it's way into his head.

And, he cared for Minerva, still. Right? If he didn't, he would have insisted on getting a divorce and wouldn't worry so hard about what would make her happy with him. (Y/N) was a constant, happy presence in his life, even if their interactions were spread apart and only lasting some minutes here and there. Of course, he would get attached to the pretty girl who spared him attention and gave him praise without a second-thought. That didn't mean anything, though.

Even with the way his heart skipped a beat at the thought of his neighbor, Harry reminded himself of his reality. He was a married man, someone who cared for his wife and would continue to be a good husband to her until he signed his name on the dotted line. (Y/N) would always be nothing more than a nice friend. That's all.

—————

Harry sighed as he sank to his knees in his garden. Looking at all of his hardwork, he felt his heart break when he recalled Minerva's attitude the night before.

She hated it.

A waste of his time, she'd said. How was he supposed to find a respectable job when he was too busy with dirt up to his elbows doing a job fit for 'the help'? He had been floored when he heard her, but snapped his mouth shut as soon as she rolled her eyes and stomped upstairs, disregarding the dinner he had set out on the table.

Looking at the bushel of lavender that still needed to be planted as well as the border that needed to be filled with his candy floss pinks, Harry didn't feel the same joy he had the day before. He probably could be a lot more useful browsing the job sites, checking in on his network connections again. If he tried hard enough, dedicated himself enough, he would get a response, right?

His only saving grace was the music playing through his headphones, pushing him out of his head and into whatever the writer was urging him to feel with every beat and sprawled lyric. Music was everything to Harry. Way back when, he even had dreams of becoming a songwriter, or producing tracks and working in a studio—anything to put him in the industry. But that was years ago, before he was married and had to stop being so selfish with his dreams. Minerva wanted something better for him, so he had to let that go.

Concentrating on the notes that filtered through his headphones, Harry was finally pushed out of his head and back into the moment. He would finish the garden, then go inside and job hunt some more, he decided.

The sun was especially warm on his back today, soaking into the black fabric of his t-shirt (a bad choice in hindsight, he realized as soon as he checked the high temperature on his phone). Sweat dripped from his hairline as he dug into the soft soil lining his front porch, following the line of his nose before dropping into the dirt. If he was lucky, he would beat out a sunburn and leave with a tan coloring his skin, but the more he soaked in the heat, Harry didn't feel good about his chances.

By the time only a half of the candy floss had been planted along the border, the neckline of his top was drenched in sweat and Harry was running out of the motivation to finish his project. It wasn't until he felt a soft hand nudge at his shoulder did he look up from the flowers he was plotting in the ground. That definitely wasn't Minerva, he knew that much before looking over his shoulder. She never touched him that gently anymore.

Sitting back on his heels, pushing his sunglasses into the mass of hair on the top of his head, Harry turned onto only to see (Y/N) clad in her workout gear with her arms cradling snacks.

He was quick to pull his earbud from his ear, looking to her with a shaky smile he hoped didn't embarrass him any more than the sweaty state she'd caught him in. "H-Hi, (Y/N)."

"Hey," she greeted him with a bubbly smile, warmer than the heat clouding the air, "Looking really good, Harry."

His mouth went dry as he processed her words. "Wh-What?"

"Your garden," she clarified, nudging her chin in the direction behind him, "It's looking really good. Almost done?"

"Oh, yeah. Thank you," he blinked, rolling his lips between his teeth as he granted himself a reprieve of following her line of sight to his blooms. She made him so nervous it was hard to look at her. "Only a little more to go, so I should be finishing up today."

"You've been at it all morning, I'm surprised you haven't passed out with how hot it is," (Y/N) continued, huffing out a laugh through a soft smile, "I just came back from walking my roommate's dog and made some snacks and lemonade, so I thought I'd come over and share, if you wanted any?"

Dropping his gaze to her hands, he found a paper plate with a bagel covered in cream cheese, and a handful of dried cranberries. In the crook of her elbow, a small, chilled water bottle was cradled.

A smile crooked his lips as he gazed at her.

Cute.

"Thank you, (Y/N)," he said, twisting in his spot so he could properly face her, "Y'didn't have to."

"It's alright," she beamed, offering him the refreshments with an outstretched hand, "I was already making my own, so I thought I'd make some for you, too."

It was simple, what she brought out for him, but even just a single sip of the sugary lemonade was enough to have Harry's heart bloating. He couldn't remember the last time someone thought about him so considerately.

"No, this is really kind of you, (Y/N)," he cemented, looking up at her from where he sat in his yard, trying his best to keep his gaze from going too soft, "Please, let me know if there's anything I can do for you, ever. You've been so nice to me ever since y'moved in, I want to pay y'back somehow."

"Harry, really, it's alri—"

"Humor me? Please?" She was giving him undeserved kindness, and he didn't want to take advantage of her.

The way her features softened as she looked down at him, hair messy on the top of her head and face glowing with the dew of a fresh workout, had Harry's heart clawing at his chest. She was looking at him like that. How lucky was he?

"Alright, I'll let you know, okay? I'm sure something will come up soon enough; I don't know if you've noticed with the amount of times I've accidentally backed into my garage door, but I'm not great about not breaking things. Be prepared with the amount of help I'll be needing now that you've offered, Harry." Faux seriousness covered her features as she pointed an accusing finger at him, thought her facade was cracking with the curl of her lips and the soft set of her eyes.

"I'll be ready, promise," he beamed up at her, pleased with the way she bit back her smile like she was afraid of how big it would grow if she didn't.

She lingered for a moment longer, her tender gaze dropping for her feet before she matched his gaze again. "I should probably get back to the dog—he doesn't like to be alone for long—, but, I'll come by if I need anything, Harry."

"O-okay," he breathed out, catching a flutter in his heart at the sound of his name wrapped in her voice, "I'll be here."

Her grin widened at his small joke as she edged back towards her home. With a little wave, she was on her way, Harry watching her the entire time.

When he saw her twist to look over her shoulder, he felt silly for a moment to have been caught staring, but then she spoke: "Tell Minerva I said hi, too, please! I haven't seen her in so long!"

It was the genuine smile on her face that had his heart dropping to his stomach. He kept quiet as he gave a confirming nod, waiting for her to disappear back inside her home before he dropped his gaze.

She was a sweet, sweet, sweet girl who wanted him to say hello to his wife for her—the same woman that would smear mud across (Y/N)'s name at any given chance. She saw the best in everyone, even people who didn't deserve that rose-tinted view. She was much too good for him, he knew that much. Much too good to have a married man become infatuated with the idea of her.

—————

Clicking out of his email, Harry ran a heavy hand through his hair.

Nothing. Not a single response to all of his cover letters, tailored resumes, and followups.

He knew in the grand scheme of things that four weeks really wasn't that long to be unemployed, but sitting in this house all day long, waiting for his wife to come home with whatever jeering remarks she stewed over all day, felt like years of torture. There wasn't anything else to fix up in the house that could distract him for hours on end; the gardens in both the front and back were planted and well maintained now, the garage still tidy, attic still clean and clear, and he'd even fixed that leaky faucet in the guest bathroom Minerva had been complaining about since they moved in. What else was there to do but marinate in his own short-comings and make himself go mad until it was time to make dinner?

Slumping into the couch cushions, Harry tried to distract himself by flicking on the television, hoping to find something to take his mind off of the replay of last night's silent dinner with Minerva. Sometimes he couldn't figure out what hurt more: her silence or her deprecating words that broke him down?

Just as he found a daytime soap he remembered his mother tuning into, a quiet knock rang at the front door. He didn't make a move to answer it, assuming it was some delivery service dropping off something Minerva had ordered or a door-to-door solicitor that would be smart to get out of this neighborhood before one of the more haughty neighbors reamed him for doing his job. But, when another round of the soft rapping came, he dared to peek his head through the gauzy curtains and glimpse at the visitor.

It was (Y/N).

From the limited view he had, he could see the way she was glancing back and forth from his front door and to her house, toeing anxiously at the ground with her phone clutched in her hand. Today was her day off, he remembered that (don't ask him how, he knew it wasn't something he needed to remember but he couldn't help his memory), only emphasized by the comfy shorts she had on her legs and the large t-shirt that was much too cold to be wearing so early in the morning without a sweater.

It was that one peek at her that had him rising from his spot on the couch and rushing towards the front door. By the time he twisted the locks and pulled the door open, (Y/N) was reluctantly stepping off the porch with her phone pressed to her ear. As soon as she saw Harry in the threshold, she ended her call with a sigh of relief.

"Harry," she breathed, hands falling to her sides, "I was so worried you were at work, or something."

"Is everything alright? Are y'okay?" He didn't even realize he was scanning over her form for injuries until he met her gaze from where it had drawn down to her feet.

"Yeah, yeah," she nodded, toeing at the ground as she glanced towards her house, "I just... You said you would be willing to help me if I needed anything, right?"

"Yes, of course," he affirmed, a furrow pinching at his brows.

"So," she started, looking guilty already, "I was about to go take a shower, but I think I broke it."

"Broke what?"

"The shower."

Harry blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Its..." she started again, scrunching her nose as she tried to find the words, "I don't know, it's just not working and I don't know what happened."

"Okay," Harry said slowly, passing a hand through his hair as he stepped onto the porch, shutting the door behind him, "I'll take a look and see if I can help."

"Thank you so much, Harry," (Y/N) babbled, relief touching at her features, "My roommate is going to kill me if I break one more thing in the house."

"Yeah?" he pressed, a lopsided smile tugging at his lips with a dimple pressing into his cheek, "Have y'been breaking a lot of stuff then?"

(Y/N) rolled her eyes as she started across the lawn with Harry following after. "I don't think so, but Mitch swears that I broke the panini press, the wifi-thing, the ice maker, and I somehow, apparently, fucked up the coffee table, or something. I think he's just dramatic and doesn't pay attention when he's using things, but whatever."

A smile bloomed across his features as he listened to her list off every appliance and piece of furniture that could be in a house. Now, including a shower (whatever that exactly meant) on that list.

Humming, he nodded his head, "Do y'think he breaks it and tries to blame it on you, or something?" Harry wouldn't like that. (Y/N) didn't deserve a roommate like that.

"No," she waved off, pushing open the unlocked front door before letting Harry in ahead of her, "he's not like that. I just think some of the things we have are old, so of course they stop working or break, and he knows he didn't do it so he thinks it's me. But, I think it's just the universe."

"I see," Harry smiled, stepping into her home.

While it was a shared space, he could still spot the (Y/N)-esque touches littered throughout the living room; a soft knitted blanket in creamy tones thrown across the back of the deep green couch, a bookcase spotted with novels he'd heard her reference to her friends in the neighborhood along with little crystals and delicate trinkets, and photos framed on the wall with her beaming smile lighting up the setting. Everything looked worn and loved, handed down from relatives or second-hand shops—nothing at all like the stiff decor and furniture that Minerva had picked out from a catalogue exactly as it was. It looked like a home.

"It's the upstairs bathroom, if you wanted to follow me," (Y/N) explained, stopping him from wandering out into the space to see what it would feel like to wrap himself in things that were (Y/N).

"Right, the shower," he murmured under his breath, trailing behind her, "What exactly happened?"

An exasperated shrug of (Y/N)'s shoulders was the view he was granted a couple of steps behind, "I don't know. I got all my stuff ready to take my shower, and I was waiting for the water to warm up and when I pulled the thing to make it come out of the shower head and not the faucet, it just... didn't work."

She took him to the bathroom in question, opening the door to the brightly lit and femininely decorated bathroom (her own personal one, he'd assume) with the remnants of steam still touching the top of the mirror.

"Watch this." She beckoned to him, settling on her knees on the tiled floor. Twisting the knob on the temperature control, water started streaming through the faucet and splashing across the tub. She paused for a moment as if to ensure Harry was properly watching before she reached across and pulled the pin at the top of the faucet, the same one that should redirect the water flow up to the shower head. The second it was pulled, there was a sputtering of water flowing for a moment longer before only a single bead fell from the shower head. The faucet stopped leaking, leaving the water to go down the drain before the shower was dry, none of the outlets dispensing.

"Huh," Harry breathed, gaze drifting back and forth between the faucet and the shower head as if either one would explode at a moment's notice with all the water pent up.

"Right?"

"It just started acting weird today?" he asked, reaching into the bathtub and pulling on the pin again. The same result: silence and dryness.

"Yeah, it was perfectly fine last night. And everything else like the sink, and the kitchen, and Mitch's bathroom are all working. It's just the shower."

Harry tested it out for a few minutes, (Y/N)'s eyes following him as he tinkered with the knob controlling the pressure and temperature, the pin, and the shower head itself. Nothing changed as he poked and prodded, a furrow pinching his brow.

"Do you know where your water heater is?" he asked, looking over his shoulder to her as he twisted the knob to off.

Pausing when he saw the way she was sat so prettily behind him, Harry suddenly felt flush under her attention. He had felt the warmth of her gaze the whole time as he worked and messed around with the appliance, but it was different seeing her with wide eyes looking up at him with her legs tucked carefully under her body. Even with her messy hair and ill-fitting clothes, Harry swore for a moment she was surrounded by starlight and puffs of cotton candy clouds—a dream on earth.

His heart skipped a beat with butterflies filling his tummy. Since when was he this far gone?

A loud thud sounded from the floors below, the only thing that shook Harry from whatever was running through his head that only jumbled the second he remembered this was (Y/N) who was gazing up at him like that.

"(Y/N)?" he stuttered over her name, his arms dropping limply at his sides.

The call of her name brought focus to her eyes. "Hm?" she hummed, with with a flutter of her lashes.

"D-Do you know where your water heater is?" he tried again, running a nervous finger under the tip of his nose.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry," she breathed out on a laugh, rising to her shaky legs, "It's in the basement."

They were quiet as Harry followed her on an impromptu tour of the house, down the two floors to the chilled basement. It was when she reached the landing did she stop in her tracks with a gasp. It took him only a second to peer around her shoulder and find the cause of her widened eyes and fists clutched to her chest.

The concrete floor of the space was covered in a shallow pool of water. Some spaces the level was lower than others, but there was definitely enough water covering the floor to account for what hadn't been streaming through the shower upstairs.

"Shit," Harry whispered, spotting the pack of boxes pushed into the very corner of the basement, the bottom row slowly taking on water.

"Those are Mitch's things," she rushed out, following his line of sight, "I need to get them upstairs before anything gets messed up."

(Y/N) didn't falter after that, splashing through the water with her bare feet. Harry went to follow her, only to have to step out of the way as she was on her way back with a box stacked in her arms.

"D-Do y'want help?" The question felt a little dumb leaving Harry's mouth, but he didn't want to start rummaging around if she would prefer he stand back.

"Would you, please?" (Y/N) asked from halfway up the stairs, "Thank you so much, Harry."

Hearing that strain in her voice was all he needed before he was setting off to help her pick up the boxes, trudge through the water and up the steep stairs. By the time there was nothing more than the last few boxes, the bottoms all soaked in the leaked water, he was out of breath but (Y/N) looked a little less stressed. Only a little.

"Thanks," she panted out again once all of her roommates things were safely tucked away on dry land. Her eyes fluttered closed before she ran a heavy hand over her features, the heels of her palms pressing into her eyes. "I think Mitch is really going to kill me for this one. I don't even know what happened."

Hands on his hips, Harry remembered the shimmering lake that had taken over the level below. "I don't either, love, but you're going to need to call someone to fix it. 'M sure something is blocked."

"Probably," she sighed, eyes focusing on a random spot by her feet as she pinched at her lips, "H-How do I get the water out of the basement, though?"

"Jus' gonna have to mop it up, and use some towels, I think. 'S not a lot, so it shouldn't be too bad."

"Yeah," she breathed out again, focus coming back to her gaze as it flitted up to return Harry's. "I'm so sorry to ask, but would you be able to help? Even just for a lit—"

"Yeah, of course I can help." A heat touched at his cheeks as he realized just how eagerly he had offered up his help. But, with the way (Y/N) lit up at his agreement to help, he didn't really mind how silly he sounded.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you. So much, Harry," she beamed at him, already seeming to have more life in her as she toed towards the stairs leading her up a level, "I'll go grab some towels, but the mop is in the kitchen, over there, if you can get that. I'll be right back. Thank you so much!"

It was with a scuttle of her feet and a twist of her hair fluttering behind her that she disappeared up the staircase. Harry's gaze followed after her for a moment longer, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he felt a smile coming on.

—————

"Did you always want to do accounting?"

(Y/N)'s question echoed in the empty basement, sounding over the slopping sound of the mop in Harry's hands sopping up the water that didn't seem to have an end. He shrugged, having expected this question when they started talking about their career-paths (apparently, (Y/N) wanted to be a writer, but she was currently working retail so she could pay the bills in the meantime).

"Not really," he answered honestly, wringing out the mop into the accompanying bucket that was just under half full at this point, "I actually wanted to get into music, but this seemed more practical."

"Music?" (Y/N) perked up, wringing out a soaked towel before opting for the slightly drier ones as she worked on her hands and knees, "Like as a singer?"

A smile plucked at Harry's features at the enthusiasm in her voice. He couldn't remember the last time someone sounded genuinely excited at the idea of learning more about him.

"Maybe if I felt right, but mostly songwriting and producing. I liked the idea of being in one of those big studios, you know?" The images he'd had of his life when he was young flashed through his head. His heart almost broke at how easily it was to conjure up those pictures despite how long it'd been since he allowed himself to indulge in those what-ifs.

"Did you write a lot of songs then? Anything I might have heard?" (Y/N) wasn't even working anymore, that much Harry could tell when he peeked at her through his lashes. She was sitting back on her heels listening to him, attention rapt and unwavering.

"No, I never really made music. Everything I've ever written is packed away in some journal in m'attic. I haven't seen it since university, I think." That was a little bit of a lie, if he was being honest. He'd seen it when he was reorganizing the attic space and moving things around. He just didn't have the guts to open it.

He could hear the pout in her voice as she humphed. "That's a bummer. I would have loved to read what you wanted to put to music," she mused, "If you ever find it, would you let me read some of it?"

Against his will, a memory of him shoving his book into Minerva's hands, asking her to read his latest work—one that was inspired by her—before she refused, not wanting to read any of what his silly hobby spawned. It was a waste, she had told him in her own way; music wasn't a stable job and he needed to wake up before it was too late and he'd sung them into living in a cardboard box.

Harry made quick work of shoving that thought to the side, inserting himself into the moment with (Y/N) once more. It was the glimmer in her eyes, the smile on her lips, and the fact she asked to read his art that had him answering in a heartbeat. "Of course. You'll be the first person I call."

The creases that lined her face as her smile grew was enough to wipe those awful moments with Minerva away like the water he was sopping off the floor. Speaking around her smile, she dropped her gaze to the towel in her hands, "So—um—if you wanted to be a songwriter, why did you end up going into accounting? That's a huge field change."

"Yeah," he sighed, plucking at his bottom lip for a moment of comfort, "Um, she—sorry, Minerva, she thought it would be a better idea to go into something like finance. More stable and real than music."

"Oh," (Y/N) sounded, voice neutral though he could see her features scrunch up some, "I can see that a little, I guess. Did she ever help you write or anything like that?"

"Not really. It wasn't something she thought was..." Harry floundered as he remembered all the things she called his songwriting (not worth her time, stupid, an excuse to not find a real job, ect.). Those probably weren't the kind of things to dump on his neighbor. "It was jus' hard for her to get into it the way I did. I usually did all of it alone."

"Well," she started, a slight pinch lingering in her brows as she crawled to the next section of floor, "I'm sure if she could have helped, she would have."

Harry didn't have the heart to tell her otherwise.

"Yeah, but what about you, hm?" he switched, wringing out the mop once more, "What kind best-seller are y'drafting?"

It seemed that was the perfect question to ask her as she shot into an explantation of the creative writing class she had taken in college and the idea of a narrative that never quite left her (of course only after she rolled her eyes at his best-seller comment. I haven't even finished a single chapter, Harry, she told him though the smile she was biting back still bled into her features). He was wrapped up solidly in the world she was painting for him, even when she shyly brought up the romantic aspects as she was most excited about adding.

Despite the water seeping through his Vans and chilling him from his toes up, Harry swore he could have stayed in that basement all day long hearing her talk about the things she loved.

What a privilege that would be.

—————

Minerva didn't even bother to wake Harry up before she was off to work this morning, only leaving a note tacked to the fridge about the shopping that needed to be done today and that she would be home late due to after-work drinks with some of her colleagues. He wasn't all that surprised at that. She seemed to prefer to spend any time she could away from him, no matter where it was.

At least, he had a task that would take up some of the morning and direct his mind off of the sourness that was filling his lungs every time he thought about Minerva.

Taking his time to clean up after the breakfast his wife made for herself before her day at work, Harry didn't leave for grocery shopping until late in the morning. Armed with Minerva's list as well as the mental one he'd developed after spending so much time at home and in charge of meals, he plucked a trolley and started off through the shelves.

The store was luckily fairly empty given the time of day he was waltzing through the aisles, and Harry couldn't be more grateful for the chance to move at his own pace. He was feeling particularly slothly today, sluggish limbs and tired eyes, so at least he wasn't being pushed around and feeling rushed to get out of there as soon as he could. He marked off every item he grabbed from the shelves as he went, putting together a menu for the rest of the week.

It wasn't until he was armed with the ingredients to Minerva's favorite pad Thai recipe—one she probably wasn't even going to eat, he pessimistically decided—that he ran into another's cart.

"Oh gosh—"

"I'm sorry—"

The second he saw who he had accidentally bumped into, every bit of exhaustion evaporated from his limbs.

(Y/N)'s expression cleared up just the same, the apology on her lips falling away in favor of wrapping her voice around his name. "Hi," she greeted him, "Fancy seeing you here."

"Yeah, sorry about that," he told her, sounding much too chipper for an apology, "Wasn't watching where I was going."

"It's alright, I'm happy it was you," she cemented, parking her cart on the other side of the aisle from him, settling in, "How are you?"

"'M good, thank you," he smiled, "How's your shower and everything? Did that guy end up making it out there?"

"Yeah, he came a little after you left," she sighed, shaking her head as if recalling the memory made her just as exasperated as she was in real time, "It was so stupid. I don't even know what it was that was blocking my shower, but something was blocking that specific channel so every time I turned it on and tried to get water to come out, I was breaking something else and flooding the basement. I feel like he was being a jerk, but Mitch says that I was probably just in a bad mood."

Harry shrugged, biting back a smile though he was sure his dimple still poked through. Maybe she was in a bad mood—he wouldn't blame her—, but she hadn't been in one by the time he left. If he really let his heart run away from him, he'd let himself imagine he had been the one to keep her happy.

"At least he got it fixed, right?" he tried, leaning his forearms into the seat of the trolley, chin resting on his fist.

"Yeah," she smiled, apparently forgetting the supposed attitude she was given, "I got to wash my hair afterwards, so that was nice." He watched as her gaze dropped to the contents of his cart, eyes lighting up when she caught sight of something to pique her interest. "Where did you find that pizza dough? Mitch and I keep ordering out for pizza so I was trying to get stuff to make it ourselves instead."

An apologetic smile curled his lips before she even finished speaking. "It's over by the cheese counter, but I did grab the last couple. 'M sorry, (Y/N)."

The second he watched her deflate, the makings of a pout itching at her lips, Harry couldn't help himself. He just wanted to see her smile again.

"I was planning on using them for lunch today, but, if y'want, y'can come over and-and try it with me? I haven't tried this one before either, so if y'like it, y'can take some home."

He could barely hear his own voice over the sound of his heartbeat as he allowed his mouth to run ahead of him.

(Y/N) hesitated from where she stood in front of him, the blunt edges of her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. With a flutter of her lashes, she returned his gaze. "Are you sure? I can just get some next time, it's alright."

Swallowing, he saw the way out she was giving him, but he found himself wanting to stay just where he'd put himself.

"'M sure," he cemented, surprised by how lightweight the words felt, "I was going to eat by myself anyway, so at least we could talk a little."

A beat passed before she offered him a sweet smile and a nod of her head. "Alright. I still have some more shopping to do, but when I'm home, I could come by? As long as you're alright with waiting for me."

Harry didn't need to think before he was nodding his head.

Of course he would wait for her.

—————

Was this cheating?

Harry's chest constricted at the thought.

He wasn't a cheater, was he?

All he'd done was invite a friend over for lunch and to talk, just as they'd done before. He'd ran into her at the supermarket and asked if she wanted to share some of the food he was planning on making anyway, especially as she was only a door down. That's not cheating, right?

No, he told himself. They hadn't even touched outside of passing each other when they were lugging up her roommate's belongings upstairs, let alone kiss or go further. And nothing they'd talked about had verged into romantic territory, not even for a second. He talked to her like he would talk to a friend. He'd had female friends before—before Minerva, of course—and this was how he would treat any of them. He would even argue he's held her at a larger distance away, especially since he was married.

Just because he thought his friend was pretty, didn't mean he was cheating.

Minerva even knew about he extra time here and there he was spending with (Y/N), though she definitely scoffed and made faces whenever he spoke her name. If he was doing something wrong, he wouldn't have told Minerva anything, right?

Harry couldn't calm his spinning mind as he put away his groceries, spiraling out of control as he contemplated turning (Y/N) away when she came to the door—with all the ingredients for a pizza to make at her own home. But, as much as he was worried about the blurry line he was approaching, he didn't want to say no to her and make her leave. He didn't want the sunshine that was leaking into his life courtesy of his neighbor to become shrouded by clouds once again.

It was an innocent friendship, and if Harry couldn't handle himself, he would stop it. He vowed to himself that if he came to a point where he was worried he wouldn't be able to not cross into the shades of grey safely, then he would end it. Because he was someone's husband before he was someone's friend.

It wasn't until he heard a knock on the front door that Harry's frantic hands came to a sputtering halt. Bracing his hands on the edge of the counter where he stood in front of the ingredients for his pizza project, he took a steadying breath. He centered himself for one more moment before going to the door to let his friend in.

(Y/N) greeted him with a bright smile when he swung the door open. "Hi, stranger," she bubbled, hands folded in front of her dressed in the same comfy set he'd found her in at the grocery.

"Hi," he greeted her, feeling the stretch of his grin as he took her in.

Even as he widened the berth of the door, clearing way for her to pass through, (Y/N) nervously toed the porch, eyes giving way to a tinge of anxiety he'd never seen there before. A pinch drew his brows together as he watched her.

"You're still hungry, right?" he prodded, giving her an out if she decided she would rather be at home.

His question seemed to shake her from wherever she had crawled to in her head. "Y-Yeah, sorry," she brushed off with a smile, stepping over the threshold and into his home, "I just realized I've never been inside your house before."

"That's right, huh," he said, smile going lopsided with only a single dimple in his cheek, "Busy couple of weeks for us, then, right? Packing a whole lot of basic friendship things into a few days."

Harry knew he uttered the word friendship for his benefit only, feeling stiff as it passed his lips. Because this was what this all was. Friends went to each other's houses, and got to know each other through quality time. Nothing nefarious or wrong about that.

"We've been neighbors for almost a year, and I think I just learned your last name," (Y/N) laughed, waiting for him as he locked the front door before starting off towards the kitchen with her behind him.

"That's what happens when y'wait to break your shower so y'can invite me over," Harry shrugged, looking over his shoulder with a smug smile on his lips.

(Y/N) only rolled her eyes, and shook her head as they entered the kitchen. Harry's set up was just as he'd left it: dough rolled out and floured, his favorite pizza sauce set off to the side with every fix-in delegated to different bowls and packages for easing picking. She followed after him with a light to her eyes, taking in the station he'd set up for them.

"I didn't know what y'might want to put on it, so I jus' got everything out," he explained, starting to feel a little sheepish over the amount of effort he put into his friend's meal.

"Thank you, Harry," she smiled at him, standing in front of one of the two slabs of rolled out dough, "This is perfect. You're so nice."

He had to pretend that his heart didn't flutter some at the gentle compliment she gave him.

Smiling down at his hands, Harry turned towards the sink to wash up before starting to assemble the food so she didn't see the flush he was sure was pricking the tip of his nose.

Once she'd followed the same procedure before returning to her station, Harry finally chanced a look at her where she stood with expecting eyes. Yeah, she was still pretty.

"Ready?" he murmured, swallowing around the word.

"Ready."

—————

"So, you didn't even actually work in the bakery? You did that on purpose, didn't you? So I would be lulled into a sense of trust even though you were only winging it on the bake time for the pizza."

Harry shrugged his shoulders as he listened to (Y/N)'s very true accusations. There had been something of a squabble over the bake time and temperature, as (Y/N) had supposedly googled the best combination of how long to let them sit under the heat and just how high the dial needed to be twisted while Harry swore by his own method. A wicked smile had curled his lips when he brought out the best end to the argument: his so-called experience.

"You're the worst," she challenged, shaking her head when she saw the quirking of his lips, "You just didn't want me to be right."

"They turned out jus' fine, didn't they?" Harry countered, jutting his chin out in playful defiance.

(Y/N) muttered out a muted whatever, though the flutter of her lashes and sparkle in her eyes didn't diminish to go along with her faux-attitude.

A warm silence settled within the dining room as they each took bites of their food, Harry unable to stop himself from looking at her through his lashes. He swore he even caught her drawing her eyes away at the last second during one of his peeks.

"I hope this doesn't come out wrong," (Y/N) broke the silence, wiping her mouth of the pizza sauce that had collected on the corner, "but, I'm kind of happy you're not working right now. We've actually gotten to get to know each other now that you've been home."

Looking at her, moony eyes with fluttery lashes and dewy skin glimmering in the sunlight leaking through the windows, Harry wanted to kiss her. That scared him.

While it might not have been the first time he thought about what it would be like to kiss (Y/N), it had previously always been in the abstract, someone in his place before the fleeting thought was out of his head in a blink. But, this time... this time was it's own beast that has Harry's heart rattling against his ribcage like a criminal in a jail cell.

This time, he had a solid vision of himself, reaching across the dining table he had dinner with his wife at, fitting his hand around the back of (Y/N)'s neck—wedding band and all—before slotting his lips against hers. She was happy she'd had a chance to get to know him, and that was something he hadn't realized he'd ever wanted to hear.

And, that scared him. This was cheating, wasn't it? Married men don't think about kissing other women like that. They don't look across the table and try to pick out the glimmers in their neighbor's eyes, or wonder how soft her lips would be, or wish they could tuck their face into her neck and see if she really smelled like strawberry poundcake like the lotion on her bathroom counter suggested. Married men shouldn't do that.

Harry swallowed thickly, dropping his gaze to his unfinished slice of misshapen pizza.

"Is everything okay?" (Y/N) broached, speaking to him as if he were an injured animal, "I didn't mean to make you upset about work. I shouldn't have said it lik—"

"No, no," Harry shook his head, a stray curl landing across his forehead, "'S not that, don't worry. I know what y'were trying to say."

"Okay," (Y/N) sounded, the syllables coming out quietly as she placed her pizza down, "Is something else wrong then?"

How was he supposed to explain to her that he crossed into territory that was too blurry to be safe for him—the one with the wedding band on his finger? She had no idea of what was running through his head as she spoke, the way his heart skipped a beat when she gave him attention he hadn't even known he'd been craving since she approached him in the garden weeks ago. At this pace, he was ruining two relationships at once: his marriage to Minerva and his friendship with (Y/N).

"(Y/N), I..." he started, unable to think clearly with the way his heart crawled up into his throat. Was there an eloquent way to tell someone you can't see them anymore because you fear you might cheat on your spouse if you became any closer? Was there ever a good time to confess to having feelings for another woman while also cutting them off?

"Harry," (Y/N) murmured, "you're worrying me. Can you at least tell me if you're alright?"

"I d-don't know, (Y/N)," he sighed, dropping his head into his hands that were propped up on elbows pinned to the table, "I don't—It might—... I think I might need to take a step back from you."

Silence fell over the room once more, this time lacking the warmth that it had been filled with less than ten minutes prior.

"I... don't think I understand," she responded, sounding stiff.

Harry shook his head in his hands, his hair fluffing around his face. "I don't think it's a good idea for us to see each other anymore, es-especially alone like this."

Heat crawled up his features, starting at the base of his neck as he choked out the words. He couldn't even look at her, but he could fantasize about cheating on his wife with her?

"Um, okay," (Y/N) said after a beat, words stilted, "I understand. May I ask why, though? Because if it was something I did, I want to apologize at least."

He shook his head as she spoke. None of this was her fault. Never was an apology from her lips needed over this situation. He dared to peek up at her through the cage of his fingers, finding her with her gaze downcast and shoulders deflated.

His tongue felt thick as he tried to speak around it, dry throat not helping any. He floundered over the honesty he knew he owed her. "It's jus'... 'M married and all, you know?"

The pieces seemingly clicked together for (Y/N) without any extra explanation. She gave a slow nod of her head. "Right. I'm sorry if I crossed any boundaries, or anything. I didn't mean to."

Before he could offer any consolation, tell her that the fault was all his own and she'd been nothing more than the sunshine he'd been aching for since he found himself on a clouded shore, but she was quick to pushed away from the dining table. She offered a polite thank you for lunch, before she was out of the house in record time; the sound of the door shutting behind her lingered longer than she did.

Scrunching his eyes tightly, Harry couldn't help but dig the pads of his fingers into the soft skin of his eyelids. "Fuck," he whispered to himself in the empty house. In a burst of frustration at the feeling of tears filling his eyes as if he had earned the right to be upset over the entire situation, he slammed his fists onto the table. The china rattled on the surface, only joining in with the ruckus of the loud Fuck! he screamed into the void of his home.

Slumping back into his chair, Harry stared up at the ceiling for who knows how long until he felt a nerve in the muscles pinch over the position. A labored breath was all he managed to pull into his lungs as he looked over the state of his home.

He needed to clean up before Minerva came home.

—————

Harry pushed the pad Thai around in his bowl, chopsticks making a dull scraping sound against the porcelain. Minerva—surprisingly home for dinner, which he hadn't been anticipating—had her eyes glued to her phone with a curl to her lips. The house was filled with silence just the way it had been for the last week and a half since Harry brought on his own heartache.

Since (Y/N) walked out, Harry hadn't been able to get her off his mind.

Nothing had been the same since the sound of the door slamming after her reverberated through the house. He swore that a part of his heart walked right out after her, trailing behind the home it had been trying to make in the warmth of her. He lied awake that night, wallowing in the mistake he'd made on two women in his life he was supposed to care about and protect. He'd failed on both fronts.

But, even after he cut himself off from the wallowing—he determined he didn't deserve more than a couple of days since this was all his doing—he found an ache lingering in his bones and a fog clouding his brain. He didn't want to eat, barely made sure he drank some water each day, and wanted nothing more than to hole himself up in the master bedroom though he never managed to actually sleep. If he wasn't distracted enough, his mind would wander too far away, waking up things he'd rather stay asleep.

He could only recall feeling like this once before: when Minerva had changed, making it very clear she was no longer invested in him or their relationship.

He was broken-hearted. Over losing (Y/N).

Maybe he had more than a silly crush on her like he had thought. He found himself wondering in the aftermath if she was alright. Was she blaming herself? Was she keeping busy with her roommate? Was she taking care of herself? It only worried him when he saw her roommate walking the dog around the neighborhood, something that seemed to be (Y/N) job exclusively before this. When he told Minerva that (Y/N) wouldn't be hanging around much anymore, he remembered how angry he became when she laughed, the noise cruel, and said something about how it was about time she'd run off.

How dare she? he recalled thinking. (Y/N) had never once said a single bad word about her, and yet Minerva couldn't even spare a question on why she wouldn't be over anymore or if something had happened. He'd shared the fact he'd made a real friend for the first time in years, and she didn't bother to ask what would be the cause of the separation, even going so far as to rub it in his face with an I-told-you-so-esque comment? Who was this person he had married?

But, in the end, (Y/N) sat at the forefront of his mind, stealing any selfish thought and reminding him of the real innocent in this situation. She deserved better.

His feelings for her had been a lot more real than he even realized. If he had known, he liked to think things would have turned out differently for them.

Holding back a sigh, Harry pinched a bean sprout between his chopsticks as he slumped over the table with his chin in his hands.

"I heard back from that auto-body place I told you about," Harry offered, filling the silence with his raw voice. Minerva didn't even look up.

"Hm?"

"That job I applied for—bookkeeping at that auto-body place just out of town. They emailed me back; I have a phone interview with them tomorrow," he shared, hoping the good news would at least make her happy. Maybe, that would be enough to get him out of his head, the static of the house surely not helping him feel normal.

"Oh," Minerva sounded, a sour expression pinching her features, "You actually applied there? I thought I told you it sounded gross."

Rolling his neck, he swallowed. "I know, but work is work and that's what I need right now. I can keep looking even if they hire me, I jus' need something right now."

A roll of her hazel eyes was granted in response to his words. "It's like you don't even listen to me. Sure, you're unemployed, but do you not think it would look worse for you to work at some greasy mechanic? Harry, it's gross, and you would know that if you ever actually listened to me."

Her biting words touched a nerve Harry didn't even know had been exposed.

"I listen to you all the time, Minerva," he grumbled, voice low and controlled. His heart pounded in his ears, the sound rising from his chest.

She scoffed at his retort, her phone finally dropping from her hand as she sat up straight in her seat. "Excuse me?"

"I said," he breathed, tempering himself before he raised his voice, "I always listen to you. Jus' like how I listened to you when y'said I wasn't trying hard enough and thinking too much of myself and not applying to jobs on my level. So, I broadened my search—like you asked—and found this place that would pay nicely and might appreciate what I could bring."

"Oh, now you're just blaming me, like it's my fault you couldn't find anything other than some slum to hire you. Stop being a dick, and just listen to wh—"

"I am listening! I have listened for the last seven years! And, I don't want to listen anymore, Minerva!"

It was like the universe knew about the changing tide, a sudden clash of thunder echoing outside that ramped up the storm that had been brewing in the clouds. The second the sky settled, Harry realized the tone and volume of his words and the fact Minerva hadn't said a single thing back, already feeling guilt in his system.

"I shouldn't have shouted at you, 'm sorry, M—"

"This is about her, isn't it?

Harry was taken aback at the accusing tone of voice she used on him. Flicking his gaze between her eyes, he found the anger that had been brewing in her silence. She hadn't been scared or upset that he'd raised his voice—no, she was trying to find the best way to one-up him.

"Who?"

"The fucking neighbor you're so obsessed with. This is about her, isn't it? She's been telling you I'm the bad guy for wanting you to get a good job, is that it?"

Stinging offense touched at Harry's chest. "This has nothing to do with (Y/N), leave her out of this, Minerva. She's never said a bad thing about you, you know that? When all you do is shit on her for no other reason than the fact she exists."

"I have reason, Harry," she spat, leaning over the table as he voice grew, "Like the fact that my husband eye-fucks her every time she's around! Did you really think I didn't fucking notice?!"

"'S not like that, Minerva, and you know it." Harry slid his hands into his hair, tugging at the roots in frustration. "Why would you even care, anyway? 'S not like you even like me anymore."

"Because you're my husband. You are mine, until I decide otherwise. Then you can sleep around with every girl you see—but until then, you have to listen to me."

Harry didn't even realize a sheen had collected over his eyes, tears in his waterline as he just realized just how trapped he was in that moment, not until Minerva pointed it out to him.

"Are you really about to cry, right now?"

"I know you're cheating on me."

The words slipped past his lips before he even realized they were on the tip of his tongue. He'd barely let himself think about what Minerva was really up to those nights she was getting drinks, or staying late to finish a project, let alone speak them aloud. But now, there they were. In the static silence of the dining room, he was tired of pretending and listening and hoping.

Minerva seemed to be floored for a second, floundering over her words. "Don't try to turn this on me, Harry—"

"I do your laundry, you know" he sighed, exhausted now that the biggest weight had left his chest, "I've seen what you wear those nights you're supposedly at the office until one in the morning."

"Oh, so now I can't wear sexy underwear without your permission—"

"And, remember when you insisted I share my location with you? Even went through my phone and did it all when I was in the bathroom." Harry swallowed at the memory, but he felt numb to the panic that began to rise in Minerva's eyes. "But, I can see your location, too. I know you're not at the office or whatever bar you pretend to get drinks at when you don't come home."

She was stock still for a moment before Minerva crossed her arms heavily over her chest, slumping back into her chair. "Okay, and?" she spat, rolling her eyes as if this were another petty argument, "It's not like we haven't been over for years—sorry I wanted to feel loved for once."

Harry didn't even pay her jabs any mind. None of this mattered anymore to his battered heart.

"I want a divorce."

"Harry, we've talked about this. It's no—"

"I don't care about your job. I want a divorce."

Venom filled her eyes as she locked her gaze on him.

"You only want this now that you have your little whore next door, isn't it? Yo—"

"Minerva, please," he heaved, exasperated as his hands fell limp into his lap his neck rolling back to pin his gaze to the ceiling, "Why can't we just be happy? That's all I want. We get a divorce, and you can feel loved by whoever you want and I can get the fuck out of this house."

Harry didn't look at her even as he heard the sound of her chair scraping against the hardwood floor. "Fucking fine, Harry," she spat his name out like bile, "Get the papers and I'll sign them—no contest, or whatever makes this fastest. But if you want to get out of this fucking house so bad, you can start tonight. Find somewhere else to sleep, asshole."

With that, his soon-to-be ex-wife stomped upstairs, slamming the master bedroom door hard enough he was sure that his wedding photos would have fallen from the walls had this been a movie. The sickly silent house was filled with the sound of the pelting rain from outside, the interior lit up by lightning strikes and shook by the pounds of thunder.

He needed to get out of here.

It was as if he was on autopilot as he moved through the kitchen and out the front door with nothing more than his phone and keys. He didn't even realize where he was going until he was dripping wet with rain soaking him to the bone on (Y/N)'s door step.

He must have missed knocking on her door because he was surprised when he saw the door open wide with (Y/N) standing in her pajamas, concerned etched all over her face with his name forming on her lips.

"I'm getting a divorce."

(Y/N)'s eyes widened as he cut her off, taking in the rain-sodden man. The water dripping from his hair onto the stained wood of her porch mimicked the watery gaze he stared at her with.

"Harry, you didn't because of m—"

"No, no," he swallowed, his mouth working faster than his brain, "No, it's not-not because of you. I should have done this a long time ago, I just let her decide everything for me even if I hated it. You-You made me re-real again. I couldn't stay with her knowing I could be happy again somewhere—somewhere that wasn't with her."

He watched through bleary eyes as her shoulders raised with a deep breath before she reached out to him.

"Come inside, you're going to get sick," she murmured, a sad smile on her features that shouldn't have tugged at his heartstrings.

Taking wooden steps, the cold finally registering on his skin now that the option of warmth was presented in her home as he crossed the threshold. Water dripped onto the hardwood that was identical to what was next door, but felt completely different in a space that actually knew happiness. A man was sat on the couch, long dark hair falling over his shoulder with a pinched mouth and wide eyes taking in the new visitor.

"Harry," (Y/N) said, stepping around him once the door was locked and closed, "this is my roommate, Mitch. Mitch, this is Harry... our neighbor."

Mitch nodded his head, rolling his lips between his teeth before he straightened up from his slumped position. "Nice to meet you," he smiled politely before his eyes slid to (Y/N), "I'm gonna go to my room, so if you need anything, just let me know."

Harry stood with his arms crossed over his chest as they stood, seemingly waiting for the click of Mitch's bedroom door before (Y/N) unfroze. "Um," she mumbled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she met Harry's gaze, "I'm gonna go grab you some clothes to wear while we wash your stuff. Just... wait right here, but I'll be right back."

(Y/N) lingered for a moment longer, placing a gentle hand on his arm to go along with her softened features before she was padding up the stairs. It could have been two minutes or two years that it took (Y/N) to return from her search, but Harry had no idea about the difference. He only took note of her soft hands urging him towards the bathroom, a set of oversized clothing tucked into his arms she told him was her brother's. He wouldn't mind if Harry borrowed them, she assured him.

Maybe it was the cold or the shock that lingered in his system that kept his joints stiff as he dressed. Once his wet clothes were nothing more than a puddle on the titled floor, heavy and thick with the new set cozied to his form, a hair too big, Harry stopped. With his hands braced on the lip of the counter, he spared himself a glance in the mirror.

Bloodshot, glistening eyes. Wet, dark hair that lost its curl to the weight of the water. Ruddy cheeks. Swollen lips. He looked a mess.

But, Harry couldn't remember himself ever looking so relieved.

He carefully gathered his clothes into his arms, ensuring he didn't dampen his borrowed clothing as he exited the bathroom. (Y/N) was there in an instant, having been waiting just outside the door with a softened smile on her features as she offered to take his clothes, already grabbing for them before he'd even relinquished them.

It wasn't until she returned from the laundry room, telling him something about the detergent, that Harry realized he was crying. Only because (Y/N) had pointed it out with a short gasp, hands instinctively reaching for him before she bundled them together at her chest.

"Oh, Harry," she cooed, "I'm so sorry. I can't even imagine what you're going through—"

"C-Can I hug you?"

(Y/N) didn't even hesitate before she was gathering him into her arms, Harry's head dropping to her neck with his body pressed flush against hers for no other reason than he hadn't been hugged like this in years. His breathing came in pants against her neck, fanning across her skin while his tears dripped over the curve. (Y/N) settled him as best she could, running a gentle hand over his back while the other swirled through his curls as best she could with their dampened state.

"'M so relieved," Harry whispered to her when he found his voice, "'M so relieved. Thank you."

Harry didn't know what he was thanking her for, and he was sure (Y/N) didn't either, but that didn't stop her from holding him tighter.

—————

"Bye, Harry!"

The delighted shouts that were called through the parking lot at the end of his work day brought a smile to Harry's face. He twisted on his heels, walking backwards for a moment as he waved for all the guys at the mechanic's yard to see.

"See you all on Monday!"

Harry couldn't remember ever loving his job the way he loved this one.

The mechanic was full of some of the nicest people he'd ever met in his life; some grumpy and a bit rambunctious—something he was sure they played up around their quiet accountant, as they called him—but none of them were anything less than welcoming since the day he was brought onto the team. He was excited on the days he worked in office solely because he got to see his friends. There were even nights they went out for drinks or went to a local venue to watch live music, something to relax into the weekend they always told him, and Harry was invited each time. How he worked in an office for almost ten years when this was out there waiting for him, he'd never understand.

But, Harry didn't like to think about the before years. Thinking about all he missed out on wasn't going to bring back the wasted time, that's what his therapist had told him.

It had only taken one night at (Y/N)'s and another week and a half at a hotel before Harry had another place lined up—how he was able to manage that, he wasn't sure, but he wasn't going to say no. It took him one weekend to get his things out of Minerva's house, have her sign the divorce papers he filed the days before, and it was over. His wasted time was up.

As difficult as Minerva liked to be, when she was done with something, she wiped her hands clean. Just as she did with Harry. She was quick to come to agreements about their assets and belongings, staying true to her word about wanting to take whatever route would be the fastest out of the marriage.

He didn't mind that she got the house and a sizable chunk of their savings. He could get all of that back, and nothing could compare to the relief and freedom he felt now that he was out of that oppressive house.

Plus, it was cheaper to go grocery shopping for one.

(Y/N) had been so encouraging through the first few weeks that Harry was trying to make sense of the new world he had called upon for himself. Never interfering or pushing him to do anything he didn't want to. Everything she told him was about his happiness—putting his happiness first. It was her idea that he reach out to someone to talk to about what happened during his marriage, and how to navigate making his own choices without heavy amounts of doubt pushing him back.

He hadn't seen her much since the night he crashed at her place, knowing that he needed to spend some time with himself, clear headed and heart in his own hands, before he could be in her distracting presence again. He needed to be the best version of himself first before he could be anyone else's. But, she never backed away from him, always there when he needed her, even if just to talk to someone.

Harry didn't worry about the dirt on his feet as he opened up the door to his apartment, only shucking off his shoes messily by the threshold. He'd get to them later.

It'd been three months since he moved in, so the place was a little sparse, but it was perfect in Harry's eyes. He'd never lived by himself before. Everywhere he looked, it was him—his things, his family photos, his memories. He loved his little apartment, no matter if it was a downgrade from a two-story, three bedroom house. This was his first home.

His clothes were left in the hamper as he changed into a comfy set of clothing. He could do laundry tomorrow, no worries, he reminded himself. He had more important things to do.

Reaching under his bed, Harry grabbed the final unpacked box he had taken from the attic of the old house. Nothing more was written on the cardboard than Harry's Stuff in Minerva's handwriting. Flipping open the top, he found his university gear (really just a pair of sweatpants he swore got him through exams seasons without any complete failures), a set of messily colored pictures gifted to him from when his niece was only a baby, random items from his childhood, and a leather bound journal.

The journal was wrapped tightly closed with a matching length of string. The cover was doodled upon with stars and quotes, Harry's name scrawled across the front of the book. It mimicked him, he realized; covered in sketchbook like drawings, but it was all him.

Inside, he knew there were songs from years ago he probably didn't even remember writing. A smile touched at his features as he untied the string holding the journal together.

But, before he could flip through the pages again, he knew he had to make a call.

With his phone to his ear, the ringing echoed in his ears until he heard the telltale click.

"Harry!" (Y/N) happily chirped on the other side, "How are you?

Hearing her voice, he swore it was easier to breathe. "Hi, 'm doing good," he greeted her, voice dreamy and mellow, "Are y'doing anything tonight?"

A beat passed before she spoke again, the smile he could hear in her voice easy to imagine. "I don't think so, why?"

He promised (Y/N) she would be the first he called when he found his music again.

"I want to show y'something."

He was happy to wait for her.

—————

this is....very different for me ngl HUSHFUSHF I had a very different direction I was thinking about when I started this and then completely went off the rails and turned into something sadder than anything else ive written so...thanks for sticking through it I guess shfushfush thank you sm for reading and sorry for any mistakes (and the fact they don't even kiss ???)! if you have any ideas or requests of your own please send them in!

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lo-vearchive · 10 months

Text

Forgive Me (Pt. 2)

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x female reader

Summary: After reconciling in your bedroom, Miguel disappears on you for a week. Giving up on any hopes of romance, your friends plan a night out for you to cheer up. Too bad your boss makes an appearance and catches you with an attractive stranger on a stormy night. Read Part One: here

Word Count: 4463 words

Content: Miguel being a rude bastard, Miguel asking for forgiveness (again), arguments, possessiveness, alcohol consumption, tobacco consumption, 18+ (minors DNI), no p in v but things get spicy at the end, female fingering, finger sucking, misogyny, insecurity, swearing, hurt and comfort, office sex (no p in v), questionable Spanish

Note: ANGST! Got carried away once again. Lowkey not proofread. I love angst and Miguel being vulnerable. If you are into angst, you will enjoy this. Feel free to correct my Spanish and ask for any other cw to be added. Thank you for the 1K+ notes on Pt. 1. Have fun, horndogs ;)

It has been seven days since you last saw Miguel O’Hara.

After spending a full 48 hours by your side, he had gone back to work. You decided to join him at Alchemax the next day but found his office empty. At first, you thought he was occupied with Spider-Man business, so you kept yourself busy with answering his overflowing email box. Slowly the sun set behind the skyline of Nueva York and the messages ran out, leaving behind a feeling of uneasiness in your stomach.

You [sent Friday, 6 pm]: Hey, are you coming to work today?

You [sent Friday, 10 pm]: I’m going home for the night. Call me when you are home. I miss you :)

You [sent Saturday, 5 am]: Are you okay?

You [sent Saturday, 1 pm]: I’m getting really worried. Where are you?

You [sent Saturday, 5 pm]: I emailed you in case you lost your phone. Call me asap.

You [sent Sunday, 7 pm]: I’ll see you at work tomorrow.

You [sent Monday, 9 am]: Lyla said you’re okay but won’t tell me what’s going on. Says I don’t have clearance. Please call me.

You [sent Monday 10 am]: Are you actually ignoring me?

You [sent Tuesday, 1 am]: My best friend you’re an asshole and I should never let you near my pussy ever again.

You [sent Tuesday 1:23 am] Are you ghosting me? You know we work together, right?

You [sent Tuesday, 3:30 am]: I hate you Miguel O’Hara.

Friday rolled around and your best friend had enough of your drunk late-night facetime calls. She gathered a group of your high school girlfriends and decided a night out in the town would be the perfect remedy. “Fuck him, babe,” Katy states, sliding a shot glass across the table. “You should report him to HR for being an ass.”

You laughed and tipped the glass into your mouth. The tequila burnt its way down your throat. “I’m just going to find a new job. I can’t be dealing with this shit right now.”

Your friend Soo let out a burp. “Did you let him hit it?”

You shake your head. “No,” you cough. “We came close to it, like above the pants stuff— do you think that’s why he’s ignoring me? Because I didn’t put out right away?”

“Bitch,” Katy chides, slapping the tabletop, “be fucking for real. You look like a busty, hot secretary from some comic book. He should be lucky you let him touch your tits!”

Your friends nodded along in agreement. Katy grabs the sides of your chair and spins it around, facing you to the restaurant bar. “You see that guy there?” she points at a man with messy blond hair in an open-collar white shirt. “He’s been eyeing you all night. Go talk to him right now.”

The tequila must have heightened your bravery as you found yourself walking across the dimly lit restaurant and to the wall. Stealing a glance at him from the corner of your eye, you ask the bartender for, “a rum and coke please.”

“You can add her drink to my tab,” the man says just like you hoped he would. “I hope you don’t mind. I saw your friends fussing over you earlier and you looked like you needed a drink.”

“Is it that obvious?” You ask, letting out a laugh. “You’re right, I do need a little pick-me-upper tonight.”

“My name is John,” he says.

You introduced yourself and slide in the empty seat next to him. “So, what’s going on with you?” he questions, sipping his beer.

You carefully lift your drink from the bar top and circled the rim with your index finger. “I’m not sure if I wanna’ trauma dump on a stranger.”

“Sometimes talking to strangers helps.”

You contemplate his words and sigh. Your friends would kick you if you said the name Miguel O’Hara again in their general vicinity. You chose to divulge a little to the mystery man. “Things got a bit complicated with someone I really cared about. Everything was going well and then he disappeared suddenly, and I don’t know why.”

John listens to you carefully, nodding to himself. “You know what I do when I’m confused?”

“What?”

“I take a smoke break to chill out,” he answers, standing up. “Care to join me?”

You downed the contents of your glass and follow him out a door that open to a back alley behind the restaurant. Rain pours down heavily, and you both huddle under a dingy metal shed. The cold air bites your arms sharply as John lights the end of his cigarette and brings it to his mouth. “It can be frustrating when you’re left without answers but a girl like you has nothing to worry about.”

You smile at his words. You take the cigarette off his hand and take a drag. The smoke fills your lungs, making your head spin a little. The light-headedness reminds you of how you felt last time when Miguel was in your arms. Airy, free, and light. No matter what you do, all your thoughts lead back to him. You shake away the memories and pass the cigarette back to John.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” a stern voice asks.

A man melts out of the shadows in the alley and into the light shining from a streetlamp above. You recognize him. “Miguel?”

He doesn’t look at you and keeps his eyes focused on John. “Who is he?” he asks with a deep frown.

“Listen, I’m off work right now,” you clear your throat, sticking your nose up in the air. “I don’t have to explain—”

“Look, man,” John interrupts, “no need to get all worked about this. We are just talking.”

Miguel lets out a harsh laugh. “Yeah, right,” he spits and gets in his face. “You could have done that at the bar. Why the fuck are you out here alone with her? What were you planning on doing?”

“Mr. O’Hara!” you exclaim, stepping in between them. “You are out of line!”

He raises his eyebrows at your formality but keeps his attention on John over your shoulder. “Buddy,” John says, wrapping an arm around your waist and moving you to the side. “She is allowed to talk to whoever she wants. I suggest you leave us alone now.”

The touch doesn’t go unnoticed by Miguel. His nostrils flare and his eyes turned red with anger. He steps closer to John until he is looming over the poor man. You often forget how big your boss is compared to everyone around him. The scene looks almost comical with how John tries to puff out his chest. “Te calmas o te calmo,” (Calm yourself, or I’ll calm you down) Miguel snarls.

Whatever John sees in his face is enough to make him reconsider. He holds his hands up in surrender and backs away slowly. Stopping in front of you he pushes the half-burnt cigarette into your hand and whispers, “If this is the guy you were talking about, then maybe it’s a good thing he disappears. I’ll be inside if you still want to talk.”

He walks away from the alley and into the restaurant, leaving you with Miguel alone in the alley. You watch in silence as his body trembles, and you can’t tell if it’s from anger or the rain hammering away at his back.

He breaks the silence. “So, you’re letting strangers into our private business?”

You snort loudly. “You don’t get to speak to me like that,” you tell him, taking another drag. “Especially after disappearing on me. You can’t just strut back into my life and tell me who I can confide in.”

“I was tending to some urgent matters,” he says, brushing his wet hair away from his forehead. “So I took the time to handle them. I can’t be around you every second of the day acting as your lap dog.”

The heat from the cigarette burns your skin. “What the hell is wrong with you?” you raise your voice, throwing your hands in the air. “You’re acting like I want you on a leash! I just wanted to know you were okay.”

“Clearly I’m okay,” he replies, rolling his eyes.

Your lips tug into a deep scowl at his tone. “Did you ever stop to consider how your actions affected me? How lost and confused I felt waiting by the phone every day?”

“It wasn’t intentional,” Miguel matches your tone. “You know I am a busy man, and that I have responsibilities. But you’d rather live in some fantasy land where I’m just some monster out to hurt you! You can’t begin to understand the weight I carry on my shoulders.”

Anger surges through your body. “How am I supposed to understand when you don’t tell me anything? Hell, your AI knows more about you than I do. It’s like you only care about missions or work and nothing else—”

“Sometimes in life, personal matters have to take a backseat,” he cuts you off, harshly. “Not everyone can put on a short skirt and high heels, waltz into work, type a few memos and then call it a night.”

“You misogynist fuck!” You scream back at him, resisting the urge to slap him silly. “I hate you!”

“I hate you too!” he yells back in your face with bloodshot eyes.

You spin on your heels and begin walking towards the main road. Rage begins to bubble inside you and reaches your throat. You turn around just as you reach the sidewalk and call out, “You know what? It doesn’t matter if you disappear again because I have hated you since the moment I met you. I hated you when everyone at work warned me about you. I hated you all those times you dismissed me like an afterthought. And I hated you when you came to my room that night begging for a second chance. So, I don’t care if you hate me, or think I’m useless or unimportant cause have hated you longer and harder and for better fucking reasons!”

You take another drag from the cigarette and then crush it underneath your pretty high heels. You make a right at the end of the alley and begin walking up the street. Warm tears spill down your face as you shiver in the rain. Katy was right, he was an asshole. An asshole that made you feel dumb for having a normal job or human emotions. But maybe you were just an idiot for falling in love with a man who didn’t respect you. Love wasn’t supposed to be this hard, but here you were feeling small and crying at the side of the road.

The sound of screeching tires brings you out of your self-pity. A sleek black car pulls up on the other side of the road and the passenger window rolls down. Miguel’s face emerges from behind the glass. “Ven aquí!” (come here) he calls out.

You ignore him and keep walking ahead. You have no idea where you are going, but you would rather eat rocks than speak to him.

From the corner of your eyes, you see Miguel make a sharp left, almost hitting oncoming traffic and pulling up beside you. “Get in the car!”

Your feet don’t stop moving so he slowly inches his car to match your speed. “Estoy harto. (I’m sick of this) Let’s talk!”

Honks and yells filled the night as people grew frustrated with his speed. “Stop,” you hiss, bending down to the window. “You are embarrassing me!”

“Get in the car then,” he says, with a clenched jaw. “You’re gonna’ catch a cold in the rain.”

“Stop pretending like you care,” you snarl, kicking the side of his car.

“A-YO LADY!” a man yells out of his yellow cab. “Get in the damn car! Your boyfriend is holding up traffic!”

A pleased smirk spread across Miguel’s face at the man’s remarks. You let out a frustrated grunt and yanked the door open, slipping into the passenger seat. “Put your seatbelt on,” he says, picking up speed.

You begrudgingly obey but wished that his car would get rear-ended so hard that his fat head would go through the windshield. “You look like you want me dead, babe,” he commented with a nervous laugh.

“Don’t call me that,” you snap, adjusting the belt over your soaking dress. “Where are we going?”

“Back to Alchemax,” he points at the GPS screen. “The freeway flooded, and it will be a while until it clears up. I have a spare set of clothes I keep in the office for overnighters. You can change while we wait for the storm to blow over.”

“I don’t want your charity,” you grumble, crossing my hand over my chest.

“I know,” he says. “I just want to take care of you.”

You disliked how your stomach felt at his words. “I left my bag behind at the restaurant.”

“I picked it up, it’s in the back seat.”

“I didn’t pay my tab.”

“It’s taken care of. Your friends know you’re fine, too. Just relax.”

Miguel leans over to turn your seat warmer on and warmth spreads across your chest and down your limbs. He drives in silence with only the soft white noise of radio static playing in the background. Occasionally you tear your gaze away from the furiously working windshield wipers and steal glances at his face. The headlights from other cars make the slopes of his cheek and the plumpness of his lips visible even on a stormy night. His warm complexion has turned pale, and you ponder if it was because of your interaction earlier.

You both pull up into the Alchemax parking lot and get out of the car. The security team must be watching through the cameras, wondering why one of their lead engineers was coming into work late at night with his drenched secretary. You quickly follow him into the elevator and up to the floor with his office. He opens the office door, and you slide inside into the dark space.

“Lyla,” he calls out and the room illuminates on command. “Lights.”

Miguel walks up to a storage cupboard and retrieves a towel in one hand and fresh clothes in the other. He passes them to you, and you quietly enter the adjacent washroom to change. You peel your damp dress off your skin and shiver as the chilly air hits you all over. Rubbing the towel quickly over your cold skin, you slip into an oversized t-shirt and shorts. It takes two knots of the drawstring, but you manage to keep the waistband tied around your naval.

You find Miguel waiting for you outside. He had changed into a shirt that hugged his slender waist and pants that hung dangerously low under his taut stomach. He pulls the towel out of your hand and drapes it over your head. His hands gently rub the threads against your wet hair in soft, circular motions. You lean into his touch involuntarily. “I can do it myself,” you complain but made no move to reach for the fabric.

“I know,” he replies. “I want to do it for you.”

“Please don’t.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re doing that thing again,” you said, “and it’s messing with my head.”

“What thing?”

“The thing where you start acting kind after being mean,” you explain in a small voice. “I don’t like it. It’s confusing”

He tugs the towel back so you can look into each other’s eyes. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad,” he speaks, gently. “I just lost my shit when I saw you with him.”

“You cut off all contact when all I wanted was to know if you were okay,” your voice shakes as you stare at your feet. “You left me all alone, what was I supposed to do? Wait for you to change your mind?”

“I know I messed up, baby. I was wrong” he sighs, inching down his forehead to meet yours. “I should have communicated with you, but sometimes on missions, things get complicated. I don’t always like the things I have to do, and recently I’m having a difficult time making peace with it. It’s like the harder I try to do the right thing, the more damage I do. So sometimes, it’s just better to be alone rather than pretend I’m okay around other people.”

His words hurt your heart. You knew that his missions take a toll on him. In the past whenever you tried to inquire about its contents he wouldn’t answer. You wouldn’t push, afraid that he’d pull away, but it seems that he was pulling away regardless.

“When you’re gone,” you clear your throat, trying to speak through your narrowing trachea, “I worry that you might be laying dead in some universe, and I’d be none the wiser. I know that being Spider-Man is a sacrifice, but I don’t care about the world. I only care about you. So, when you treat me this way, it’s like I can’t breathe.”

He cups your face and places a soft kiss right on your cheekbone “Forgive me.”

“You say that a lot,” you remind him with a frown.

“I know,” he nods, “and I still mean it. I’m just an idiot who doesn’t know how to find the balance in life. I love that you care about me, and I want you to continue caring about me.”

“I don’t know, Mr. O’Hara,” you said. “I can’t ignore the way you speak to me at times. It feels as if you think we’re not equals. I am not some idiot. I am not beneath you just because I work under you.”

He groaned at the sound of his last name. Every time you called him that, it made the space between feel bigger. “I have seen a million universes, nena, (babe) and you are not beneath me in any of them,” he curls a damp strand behind your ear, “Unless we are in bed, then you’re definitely under me.”

“Miguel!” you chide, punching him in the stomach. “No es broma! (It’s not a joke) I’m being serious!”

He lets out an oof and backs away. His fangs poke out from underneath his curled lips and in that moment, he looks as carefree. He wraps his large hands around your arms and holds your attention. “I know broken trust isn’t easily mendable, but I’m going to try my hardest. I won’t leave you out in the dark or make you feel small. I’ll think twice before I open my stupid mouth. I’ll even ask Lyla to give you full access to my missions. Wh-when you see what I have to do- what I must do, please don’t hate me.”

“Miggy,” you pout, reaching for his face. “I was really, really angry when I said those things to you. I can never hate you. My heart won’t let me.”

His toothy grin appears again, and Miguel draws you into him. His smooth lips find yours and he cranes your head back to find the angle that leaves you breathless. You run the pads of your thumb gently across the slopes of his cheeks. It never ceased to surprise you that his skin was so soft under his stubble. Without breaking your kiss, your shuffle back and walk him to his desk chair. You smile into his lips as he shakes his head when you move him back and down to sit. His hands wrap around your wrists. “D-don’t leave,” he cries out.

You shake your head and take a seat on his lap with your legs dangling off the side. Miguel’s hands find your jaw and he turns your mouth to his. You wrap your fingers in his hair and tug him closer. You let out a content hum as his fangs softly dig into your lips, breaking the skin. The taste of metal fills your mouth, and you pull away to look at him. He sits in your embrace, with red-stained lips and is just as breathless. “Sorry,” he sheepishly says. “I usually have them under control. It’s just you’re in my office and in my clothes. It’s making my head spin a little.”

You laugh at his words and gently pull his hair back. Pressing a wet kiss to his exposed throat you ask, “Miggy, how come we haven’t had sex yet?”

“Honestly?” he lets out a choked moan.

“Honestly,” you hum, licking his jaw.

His hands suddenly grab you by the elbows and spin you around on his lap, so his chest is facing your back. His warm breath hits the nape of your neck. A shiver runs down your spine. “I haven’t fucked you yet because once I’m inside you,” he whispers into your ear, “I’ll never want to be anywhere else. I wouldn’t want to eat, sleep, work, or be Spider-Man. I think I’ll just want to stay buried in you all the time.”

“Miguel,” you moan, clutching your thighs together.

“Tsk-tsk,” he clicks his tongue. “Don’t hide from me.”

His large hand slips between your thighs and pushes your legs apart. He turns the chair around until you’re both facing his work desk. “Up,” he commands, slapping the side of your thighs.

You gingerly obey and place your bare feet on the edge of his desk. His hands slip under your shirt, and he fumbles with the knot. Impatient with the knots, he uses a sharp claw to cut through the drawstring. Your breath hitches as he pushes the loose shorts down your legs and off your feet. He wraps his fingers behind your knees and draws your legs apart. He puts his chin over your shoulder and bunches your shirt up to get a good look at your pink underwear. “Baby,” he coos. “You gotta’ let me have this once we are done. A little souvenir for when I’m away.”

Your stomach tightens at his suggestion. You glance at him and then the office door,. “Someone will see us,” you nervously gulp.

“You let me worry about that,” he says and presses a kiss to the side of your forehead, “and just relax. I’m not gonna’ let anyone else see my girl spread out like this.”

He runs his knuckles down your bare stomach and across the clothed cunt. Electricity shoots up your body and you almost curl up in his arms. Miguel’s fingertips find a quickly dampening spot on the fabric. “Huh,” he huffs. “Is this me or rainwater?”

You cry, arching into his touch.

“I guess it’s just me,” he grins against your shoulder.

He slides your underwear off your legs and tosses it on the table. It lands on a pile of paperwork you had put aside from him earlier in the week. Miguel stops breathing at the sight of your glistening, swollen pussy. A loud moan escapes your throat as his fingers part your folds and glide back and forth. You were sure that the security guards patrolling this floor would have heard you down the hallway. You almost miss his question over the sensations of pleasure spreading through your body.

“Do you want my finger inside you?”

You nod against his cheek and reach behind to clutch a fistful of his hair to brace for impact. He lowers his down until his thick, middle digit is nudging your opening. You must have been soaking his thighs with how easily his digit sinks inside. You bit your lip harshly to contain the sounds threatening to escape your mouth. It’s your turn to hold your breath when Miguel’s other hand begins to stroke your clit. Once, twice, thrice.

When he speaks, his voice is hoarse. “You clench around my finger every time I flick your clit.”

Not that you needed proof, but Miguel does it again and you shake with pleasure. “See?” he gasps, and captures your lips in a sloppy kiss.

He he pulls back to hold your eyes and you breathe his shaky breaths in. You close your eyes and imagine how it would look to hold his hard cock in your hands while he played with your pussy. He tears you away from your fantasy by hooking his fingers inside on an angle. You almost arch completely off his lap. He moves his free hand away from your clit and presses you back into him. His hard bulge pressed into your ass.

“Here?” Miguel moans and licks your lips. “Tell me where? Right here? Ah, here.”

His fingers find that spot again and he massages his fingers against it. You nod furiously and my hands move to claw forearms. He softly bites your shoulder in retaliation and his free hand resumes working against your clit, picking up rhythm. “Can I put another finger inside?” he asks, breathing hard. “I promise it will feel good.”

“Oh-kay,” you gasp, rocking your hips on his hand.

His index finger slithers into your pussy, and you forget how to speak. You begin to twist and turn in his lap. He pulls away from your clit to press down hard against your stomach so he can keep you in place. You slide your ass over his crotch with every movement of his fingers.

“Mig-Mig-Mig,” you pant, moving your hips to his set rhythm.

“Good? I bet that feels so good.”

“Gah—”

He presses soft kisses onto your cheek as you sink into his arms. You begin to tighten further around him. You realize that this is exactly how you always want to be—full of Miguel’s fingers, touch, and love. His tongue slips into your mouth as his fingers begin curling into you faster. Your moans and groans echo through the office. His left hand leaves your stomach and reaches for your clit again. It takes seven swipes, one for each day he left you alone, for you to seize around his finger. His mouth never leaves yours as he drinks all of your pleasurable cries.

Slowly, the current leaves your body and you’re able to take in your surround. Your cheeks burn with realization. Miguel had just fingered you open on his desk at your workplace. The very same desk you set up for him every morning. Your fingers slide up to his hair and you hide your face in the crook of his neck. “Don’t be shy now,” he chuckles, “One day I’ll fuck you all over this office, nena.”

You shriek and lightly slap his arm. Miguel gently slides his fingers out of your cunt, eliciting a soft groan, and brings his to his mouth.

He hums with eyes closed at the taste. “You taste so good,” he mumbles around his fingers.

“Ugh,” Lyla gags at a distance. “Be glad I activated noise cancellation.”

A/N: Thoughts?

781 notes · View notes

atiny-moon · 9 months

Text

i need you

18+ FANFIC. MINORS DNI

Genre: smut with a dash of angst, or atleast some heavy feels

Pairing: established!bf!san x fem!reader

Tags: angsty thoughts, fingering (f receiving), choking, unprotected sex (dont do it), kitchen sex, wall sex, bedroom sex

Word Count: 4.6K

18+ FANFIC. MINORS DNI

You and San met during his trainee days. You were on your way to study classes when you came across a little lost boy with a darling little bowl haircut. You asked him if he needed help and he asked you for directions to the KQ building. You let him know it was on your way and you didn’t mind showing him how to get there. Every day after that, the two of you walked with each other on your way to your respective after school activities - his training and your studying.

Even after you graduated and got into the school of your dreams, you made the time to walk San to his training. It was important for you to be there to support him. He was chasing something so far out of your reality, there really was no other way for you to be there for him. It wasn’t like you could dance for him, or sing for him, or do anything for him other than show up and be his rock. His shining star in the night sky.

There were days where you didn’t get to see him due to your schedule or his, but during those days you messaged back and forth as often as you could. Because, to San, you were also chasing something he could never truly wrap his mind around. He didn’t understand why you wanted to do what you wanted to do, he just knew he needed to support you. He wanted to be the person you turned to when things were going terribly. He wanted you to lean on him as much as he leaned on you.

And so the two of you pushed each other. Pushed each other to try to become the best version you could possibly become - how could you not? You had an amazing partner who had your back every step of the way and there was no foreseeable future in which either of you failed. You could do absolutely anything as long as you had each other.

That’s why when you found yourself slumped in your desk chair, staring at the blinking cursor on the blank email, you wondered what San would do if he had to reply to emails? Would he just type a one word response to everything? Or would he reply with one of his many idioms? The thought of San scrunching up his nose at a screen while composing the perfect email made you laugh.

Then, realizing how long it had been since you’d actually seen your boyfriend, you pouted and slumped further down your chair. You glanced at the time and saw it was near 7:30 PM… you hadn’t eaten anything since lunch and you still had a handful of emails left before you could call it a day. Still slumped in your chair, you rolled your eyes and contemplated leaving the emails for the morning - what would a few hours delay really mean? Surely they could wait.

You were about to sink further in your chair in an attempt to hide from the responsibilities of work when your phone screen lit up. Ah, yes. Distraction. You picked up your phone and read the message on the screen, “Just finished practice. Wanna have dinner?” It was from San! Sanni! Your Sanni!

You quickly responded with, “Still at work, finishing up some emails. I can meet you in thirty minutes?”

There was a bit of a pause as you watched San start and stop typing at least three times before replying, “Come to my apartment.”

The amount of pure excitement at the prospect of seeing your boyfriend perked you up faster than your favorite cup of coffee. You finished up the remainder of your emails and hurriedly said goodbye to your coworkers. Before heading out, you made sure to freshen up just a smidge by throwing on a fresh coat of lip gloss and adjusting your black-and-white wrap dress. And just like that, you were standing outside of San’s apartment a little after 8 o’clock.

You knocked on the door and were greeted with a chorus of “Come in!” You let yourself in and were met with such a warm, familial sight - Mingi relaxing on the couch, an anime playing on the television screen in front of him; Seongwha puttering about, muttering about how dirty everything was; Wooyoung could not be seen, but could be heard whipping something up in the kitchen; and the best sight of all was San standing in front of the doorway in his comfy loungewear.

Seeing him like this was like seeing him for the first time. His skin was still damp from a shower and his hair was still mussed. His white tank top looked too big and too small for him all at the same time and his gray sweatpants were sitting dangerously low on his tiny waist. Your breath caught in your stomach - did he get bigger?

“Hi,” San breathed out.

“Hi,” You breathed in.

San stepped aside and let you enter the apartment. You went in for a hug and a kiss but were instead met with the briefest side hug you’ve ever experienced. Hm, that was weird. You watched San’s face for any change of expression but his gaze was fixed forward, and his lips set in a stern line of concentration. Why wouldn’t he give you a hug? You wanted to press him further on it but he slipped out of your grasp and off towards the kitchen.

As you took off your coat and slipped off your shoes you couldn’t help but wonder what was going on? San normally couldn’t keep his hands off you. Was it because the members were here? Was it because you just got off work? Oh, no! What if you smelled bad? Did you step in something?! You quickly checked your shoes and saw nothing of the sort. You tried to ease the insecurities out of your mind and focus on the fact that you were here with San. Maybe he was just tired. You yourself had just gotten off work and could be reading into something that wasn’t really there.

You shrugged it off and slipped into your comfy white cat guest slippers. The slippers were a couple’s set - San had a pair of black cat slippers and you had the white ones. His idea.

You walked further into the apartment and greeted those that looked up at you. Mingi and Seongwha both said hello but Wooyoung was too focused in the kitchen to really glance up. He did manage to shriek his greetings over his shoulder.

“Mm, that smells amazing Wooyoung. What is it?!” You asked cheerily as you walked into the kitchen.

San was standing off to the side, not really saying anything, and just watching Wooyoung work. You walked up behind San and casually wrapped your arms around his waist but just like before, he stepped out of your grasp before you could truly hug him. Wooyoung had his back turned and did not notice this.

You were again puzzled but snapped back to reality when Wooyoung responded, “It’s your favorite!” His smile was so big and bright as he looked over his shoulder at you.

“I told the guys you were still at work and Wooyoung insisted he make you dinner..” San spoke up from the opposite end of the kitchen. The sentiment was incredibly sweet and it made your heart melt but when you looked at San to catch his gaze, he avoided it. He kept his eyes firmly on Wooyoung and what Wooyoung was doing. His distance was making you a little sad and not really sure what to do, you turned away from the kitchen and started setting the table.

Seongwha immediately stopped his puttering to come over and help you set the table, “You’re a guest - you shouldn’t be setting the table.” His voice was low and quiet and had the softness of a laugh hiding at the corners. You wanted to say something to keep the energy light and playful but all you could think about was how cold San was being. What if you really did smell bad?

“Seongwha…” you whispered, “..do I smell?”

Seongwha, unphased and unbothered, replied with a simple, “You smell like you always do.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion. What the hell did that mean?! Just as you were about to question him further, you heard Wooyoung call out from the kitchen, “Dinner’s ready!!” at the absolute top of his lungs. You were grateful for his windpipes and their ability to ground you in that moment. Wooyoung definitely had his charms.

Everyone took their seats at the dinner table, taking care to leave an open spot next to you. But while San was usually one of the firsts at the dinner table, tonight he was extra slow - even slower than Mingi. Did he not want to sit with you? Did he not like you anymore? That was a silly idea! He literally invited you over for dinner with him and his members an hour ago. What in the world could change in one hour? You were so lost in thought, you were late to thank Wooyoung for making and serving you dinner.

“Thank you so much, Wooyoung. My favorite meal by my favorite chef has made my heart and tummy so happy.” The warm smile that touched Wooyoung’s lips melted his entire face and you could swear his cheeks were getting a little pink. At least someone liked you.

You risked a glance at San and saw that his gaze was still fixed forward and he was still actively avoiding your line of sight. You opened your mouth to call him out on his weird behavior when all of a sudden San grabbed your hand and turned to you, “I’m so happy you enjoyed dinner.”

The sudden compliment caused your brain to restart. His words were genuine so you knew he wasn’t being sarcastic - not like San was that type of guy, anyway. But his hot and cold attitude was starting to throw you off. What in the world was going on?! As you wrestled with these thoughts, San interlaced his fingers with yours and turned away from you once more.

You were still confused as to why San was acting the way that he was but at least you were holding hands. And then the thought of you two breaking up popped into your head again. Maybe that was why he was acting so strange? But, he couldn’t break up with you in front of his members while holding your hand, right? That would be preposterous. But! What if he was just getting the courage to do it? Kind of like one last hurrah before he ends things for good.

The thought of things ending between you and San made your heart skip a beat in the worst way. You didn’t want that. Reflexively, you brought up your free hand and held onto San’s bicep. Luckily, he didn’t pull away from you. If anything, he relaxed into your touch and let you hold his arm as if he hadn’t been acting so weird the entire night.

The conversations danced around you but you couldn’t quite join in. You wanted to make jokes at Seongwha’s expense, to quip with Wooyoung, to tease Mingi - but all you could do was hold onto San’s arm. Slowly the night carried on and both you and San found yourselves sitting silent amongst your friends. Wooyoung was the first to notice the shift in atmosphere, followed by Seongwha, and lastly Mingi.

“I heard Yunho and Yeosang got a new game,” Wooyoung said to no one in particular.

“Do you wanna take them some leftovers?” Seongwha inquired.

“Let’s bring them ice cream!” Mingi suggested.

One by one, the three boys got up from their seats and shuffled out of the apartment. Their voices carried in the hallway as they laid siege to another apartment.

You were slow to peel yourself up from the dinner table, San still sitting in silence. You absolutely had no idea what was going on with him but somewhere in the pit of your stomach you had braced yourself for the inevitable - the break up.

Out of habit, you cleared the table and began washing dishes. You managed to find solace in between the suds and foam of dirty dishes. There was something therapeutic about the repetitive behavior of washing dishes - the scrubbing and the rinsing of dishes scrubbed and rinsed the thoughts from your mind. With your mind finally clear of racing thoughts you settled on the fact that San was going to break up with you. That was the only sane and logical conclusion you could come to. It was just a matter of time.

As you were drying and putting away the dishes, you felt a familiar hand on your waist. After the strange behavior all night and the danger of breaking up looming overhead, you did not risk taking a step into San’s body. Instead, you stayed firmly planted in front of the dish rack, continuing your task. But, seeing as how you didn’t respond to his touch, San bridged the small gap between the both of you.

He wrapped his big arms around your small waist and brought you in for a deep, deep hug. You felt his cheek rest on top of your head and his breathing on your back. The embrace was home personified. You instinctually melted into his body, forgetting at once the thoughts that were swirling around your head. You opened your mouth to say something but instead felt San’s warm breath on your ear, “I need you.”

Your eyelids fluttered closed as the sentiment dripping in his words coated the area between your thighs. You dropped the dish you were drying back into the sink as your body reeled from that singular sentence. Finally, when you remembered how to breathe and there was sufficient oxygen in your brain you replied, “I thought you were going to break up with me.” The tears that you had been holding back all night started to form at the corners of your eyes.

San whipped you around faster than you could imagine, pure terror and concern in his eyes. His silent curiosity prompted you to continue, “You were so distant so I thought you were mad at me.. And then I thought you were g-” San cut your words off with a kiss. It wasn’t one of those passionate kisses he usually loves, but a softer, slower one. As if he was trying to kiss away your stress, hoping against hope that his lips could melt the worries in your heart.

You were slow to respond at first, it was a little difficult to bounce back from the verge of tears but San’s kisses made the journey a lot easier. He only pulled away from the kiss to pull you into a hug. His cheek finding purchase on the top of your head while he wrapped you up into his favorite hugging position. You reluctantly wrapped your arms around his waist and buried your face into his chest.This close you could feel his heartbeat against your face and the warmth of his skin warming your cheek.

“I’m sorry I made you worry,” San mumbled into your hair. “Tonight was the first time I’ve seen you in so long.” His hands started rubbing small comforting circles on your back. And here he stayed quiet for a long while, humming to himself while trying to formulate the perfect sentence. “It was like waking up on Christmas morning and realizing I got the present I wanted.”

If possible, you buried your face further into his chest while your cheeks turned a bright pink. “That doesn’t explain why you ignored me!” You yelled from the safety of his pecs.

San brought you in even closer to his body, there was nothing separating you save for the fabric of your clothing. The silence on San’s part made you brace yourself for the worst again. And as he breathed out you could feel the reason why San was ignoring you - there was a warmth and a firmness between his legs that made you blush all over again.

“I want you.” San’s voice was quiet - barely above a whisper. You looked up at him and found his eyes studying your face. The intensity in his gaze made your knees weak and your breath catch in your throat. “If I had allowed myself to touch you more..or even think about you.. I wouldn’t be able to control myself.” Here, his hands stopped rubbing small comforting circles and came to rest on your lower back.

It was tough to maintain eye contact with San when you stared at you like that - like you were the only light in his life. You watched as the intensity in his eyes shifted from caring to something darker and more primal. His hands on your lower back continued down your body until both of his palms were firmly on your ass. “I need you.”

“I’m right here,” you breathed out as you leaned in for a kiss. San eagerly returned the kiss with the same passion and intensity you were used to. It was the way he liked to kiss you - with absolutely everything in his body. His grip on your ass tightened, pushing you further into his body. You draped your arms across his broad shoulders and deepened the kiss. Eventually, San let go of your ass to wrap his arms around your waist, holding you in place while he kissed you as if it was the first time.

The fiery intensity of the kiss sent your body aflame - every feel of his tongue on yours made you want him more and more, like he was the only thing on the planet that could satisfy you. You had to pull away first, taking a deep breath that sounded something between the lines of a moan and a sigh. San leaned into your ear and whispered, “I missed the way you sound” as he rolled his hips into yours.

You breathed out another moan into the curve of his San’s neck and it sent him over the edge. He picked you up with absolutely no effort and placed you ever so gently onto the counter, wrapping your legs around his waist in the process. You pulled your body closer to his, eager to feel him and his hardening dick on your body but he pinned your hips in place.

San pulled away from the kiss and pressed his forehead against yours, “Not yet.”

You pouted as a surge of defiance pumped through your veins. While maintaining eye contact, you reached your hands out to his sweatpants and even managed to get your fingertips on the waistband before San had his hands around your throat, squeezing in all the right places. The pleasure was immediate. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you immediately forgot what to do with your hands and focused all of your attention on San’s sweet grip on your sensitive neck.

“Not yet,” he whispered again. This time more hoarse and strained, almost as if it were a plea and not a command. You fluttered your eyes open and nodded your head as best as you could. San’s grip immediately loosened.

His left hand reaches behind your head and takes a fistful of your hair as his right thumb trails along your bottom lip. You open your mouth just enough to let his thumb in and start sucking on it. You watch as San becomes transfixed on your mouth, unknowingly licking his own lips in his approval. He pulled his thumb out and traced his index and middle finger along your lips until you happily obliged and sucked on those fingers too.

He watched you suck on his fingers until he couldn’t take it anymore and replaced his fingers with his own lips. His kiss was so hungry it made you yearn even more for his body. San quickly pushed up your work dress and slid your panties to the side so he could press his two fingers into your soaking wet pussy. The first time he touched you sent such an intense wave of pleasure through your body.

You wrapped your legs tighter around his body and bring him in closer for another kiss. Your two bodies were almost touching if it weren’t for San’s hand in-between your legs, expertly teasing your clit. You tried to maintain the kiss but San’s fingers felt so good on your pussy, all you could do was brace yourself against San and moan into his neck. He gave you sweet words of encouragement - he wanted to hear how good you were feeling.

As San worked your clit, you could feel your orgasm mounting. Your breathing was getting shallow and irregular and just as you were about to cum, San slipped two fingers into your tight pussy. The sensation of two fingers suddenly inside you while riding your high prolonged your orgasm even more. As you started to come down from your orgasm, San slowly started to pump his fingers inside of you while his thumb played with your clit.

Your pussy was so fucking sensitive but San’s fingers felt so fucking good. You buried your head into his neck and wrapped your arms around him, completely surrendering to his touch. San’s touch was so gentle - he wanted to ease you back into pleasure. His thumb rubbed your clit so very softly while his fingers worked themselves in and out of you at a comfortable pace. Eventually, you could feel your hips rocking forward, eager for more of his touch on your body.

San then started to move his fingers a bit faster and rub your clit a but harder. Soon, you could feel your juices dripping down his hands, completely covering his fingers. San absolutely loved the way your body responded to his touch - his own dick completely rock hard and leaking with precum at the very sight of your ravished body.

Your grip on San tightened as you could feel another orgasm mounting in-between your thighs. You announced how close you were and San only increased his pace and his encouragement, “Don’t hold back. Let me hear you.” His breathy words into your neck sent you over the edge as you came once more all over his fingers. Satisfied, San brought his fingers up to his lips and licked every bit off.

San wrapped your arms and legs around him once more before picking you up and making his way toward his bedroom. On the way there, you couldn’t stop yourself from kissing and biting his neck. The sudden feel of your teeth on his skin caused San’s knees to buckle. He had to pin you up against the wall for support. This only encouraged you to continue your actions - kissing and biting all along his neck and shoulder, though very careful not to leave marks.

San’s grip on your body shifted slightly and you could suddenly feel his completely hard cock press against your throbbing pussy. The contact immediately made you cry out in pleasure and eagerly push your hips into his. San intuitively reciprocated the movement, rubbing his fully hardened dick onto you. San then carefully maneuvered his hand so he could simultaneously free his dick from his sweatpants and not drop you.

He securely pinned you against the wall before sliding your panties out of the way and sliding his cock into you. The way San stretched you out was pure heaven. You moaned into his neck while wrapping your arms and legs around him even tighter. Then, you could feel the slow and deliberate push of San’s cock into your tight pussy. You kissed him as he carefully slid all the way into you before pulling out just as slow - his tip dragging along your g-spot like it was always meant to. He pumped his dick back into you and you swear you could see stars.

He continued this slow pace until you were rocking your hips into his, begging with your body to fuck you faster. In response, San grunted and picked you up. He carried you all the way to his room and placed you on the bed. The both of you watched the other strip, your eyes devouring every curve of your partner’s form. Once you were both naked, San wrapped you up in another embrace - your arms and legs naturally wrapping around his body. He buried his face into your neck and repaid all the kisses and bites from before.

You moaned after every nibble and kiss, your hips rocking into his, yearning for his dick inside you once more. Slowly, San pushed his throbbing cock into your pussy. Overwhelmed with pleasure, all you can do is hold onto San and breathe as he pumps his dick in and out of your pussy.

You and San have been together for more than five years - he knows how to fuck you. He knows what to do to your body and how to do it. There were paces he used when he wanted to fuck the shit out of you all day and there were paces he used when he wanted to make you cum. This pace is the latter. The slow and deliberate push of his cock in and out of your pussy with his head hitting your g-spot every single time soon made your breathing grow irregular and shallow.

Slowly, you can feel your orgasm building in-between your legs. The warmth spreads over your body as the first wave of orgasms roll through your body. San continues to pump into your pussy over and over and soon rips a second series of orgasms from you, your pussy convulsing around his thick cock.

But he’s still rock hard. San allows you to come back down from your high with his dick still inside of you. And slowly, he starts pumping his dick into your abused pussy. He just feels so good, you can’t help how wet your pussy gets for him.

At this point, you’ve lost count of how many times he’s made you cum but your body has not forgotten. So tired from the waves of orgasms, all you can do is let your limbs fall to the side and let him fuck your absolutely ravaged body. San throws one of your legs over his shoulder and grips onto your thigh so he could fuck you better. He gently cups the side of your face moments before moving his thumb over your bottom lip. His eyes widen slightly as he watches you take his thumb into your mouth once more.

With his thumb in your mouth and his dick so fucking deep in your pussy, San can not control it much longer. His grip on your thigh tightens as he throws his head back, deep grunts replacing his breathing. You watch as his body convulses as the orgasm tears through it, him pulling out just in time to make a mess on your stomach. San collapses on top of your body shortly thereafter, maneuvering his body so he can lay with your head tucked under his chin. In-between San’s deep breathing he whispered,

“I love you.”

#ateez smut #ateez san #san x reader #smut #established relationship #x reader #x you #ateez imagines #x y/n smut #ateez fanfic

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majimatime · 1 year

Text

Do What You Want (Roman Roy x Reader)

A/N: I had the idea for this at like 2am right after the newest episode came out, and I finally put it into writing!! This is my first ever Succession fanfiction and of course it had to be about Roman, I adore him this season. (Also, a warning for weird business/power dynamics.)

You sit at a small desk in a poorly lit office in Waystar’s LA office building. There’s an email displayed on your laptop from Joy Palmer, an executive at Waystar’s film production company, and you’ve read it about fifty times now. One more scan won’t hurt.

‘Your CEO terminated my employment over lunch this afternoon. You will be hearing from my legal team shortly.’

As the head of entertainment coverage at ATN, you’ve worked pretty closely with Joy Palmer over the past couple years. Your department reviews all the films that flow through her production company, and you cover (and sometimes attend) the premieres of all their atrocious superhero movies. It’s a fruitful business relationship—that’s just been totally shattered.

You ball your hands into fists and rest your head against them, squeezing your eyes shut. Why the fuck hadn’t anyone told you that Roman was meeting with her? Why hadn’t Roman told you? This is just…dumb. It’s so, so dumb.

It’s not like Roman hasn’t come to you about business stuff before—you’re actually pretty close. When you were promoted to the head of entertainment coverage, you were sort of initiated into the inner circle—with the old guard, Tom, the kids, and Logan Roy himself. You were completely and utterly out of your element, attending board meetings, cross-country business deliberations, and all the other fancy shit that comes with the territory. Roman almost instantly latched himself onto you when you entered his sphere, making weird jokes at your expense and then watching attentively for your reaction with those big, expressive eyes. You found all his stupid comments pretty funny, and you liked the way he lit up when you laughed at them, and so a bond was created. Right now, though… He’s taken the stupid thing a bit too far.

Just as you’re about to look back up at your laptop and start drafting an extremely apologetic response, there’s a knock at the door. “Yeah?” you call.

“It’s your boss—open up,” comes a reply from one Roman Roy.

You exhale heavily as an exasperated, slightly amused grin stretches across your face. What exactly is he looking for, coming to you after he royally fucked your job? “Yeah, come in.”

Roman opens the door and steps inside, and Christ, does he look upset. You’re a little taken aback by this; you sort of expected him to be in good spirits, high off the power trip of firing a crucial member of the Waystar machine. In true Roman fashion, he forgoes the chair in front of your desk and sits on the small table across the room, swinging his legs lightly back and forth. “Ken told me where you were holed up,” he explains. His tone is casual enough, but he looks nauseous. “What the hell are you doing in this weird little shitty office anyways?”

You laugh a little, shutting your laptop and folding your hands across the desk. “It’s a pretty normal office, Roman,” you reply, “and it’s one of the furthest points in the building from where your brother’s set up shop. I was working near him for like an hour, but all I could hear was blocking and dialogue planning and set designing…” Roman rolls his eyes, and you grin. “It was like sitting backstage at a community theater rehearsal.”

Roman laughs shortly at that. “Ew. That sounds horrific.”

“Yeah, it was.” Your voice trails off, and the two of you fall into silence. Your eyes are fixed on Roman, but his are bouncing all over the place—from you, to the corner of the room, to his hands that he’s been wringing nonstop since he walked through the door. He’s obviously thinking about the monumental fucking mistake he made earlier, and you certainly are too. “…So. Joy Palmer, huh?”

His demeanor changes instantly, and he snaps his head back like he’s been poised to move this whole time, just waiting for you to bring her up. “Yeah, that was—it’s sad,” he says loudly, uncomfortably, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s not cool. But really, it was necessary. She’s not a good fit with what Kendall and I—what we’re trying to do.”

“Huh.” You lean forward a little, ducking your head so he can’t see the scowl that flashes across your face. “…Not a good fit. Okay.” She has everything, really: experience, connections, a willingness to produce shitty movies just to make Waystar more money. Sure, she had been a little shaky recently about Waystar’s politics, but that issue could’ve easily been resolved with a bit more money offered in the right way. But that’s all thrown out the window now, and you hope Roman realizes how bad that is.

You’re not sure he does, so you emphasize it. “I mean, I’ve been kind of working her for the past few months,” you offer, looking up to meet Roman’s gaze. “I know her big issue is dealing with the political side of ATN, which I mean—sure, no one wants to work with the Jeryd Mencken Fan Club. But…in the last week I was actually making some progress with her. There was potential there—“

”There was potential?” You freeze when Roman interrupts you; his voice is low but his tone is venomous. “Okay…” He sucks in air sharply through his gritted teeth, and he glues his gaze to the floor. “I guess—I guess I’m just wondering, what fucking good is potential when she’s sitting there complaining to me across the table about this thing that you’ve apparently worked out already?”

You bite your bottom lip hard and breathe deeply through your nose. “…I don’t know, Roman. So you fire her? That’s the move? You fire her so that we have to get someone else who has less connections, less experience, who is fucking lesser in every way—just because you got mad?”

“Oh my God,” he breathes, jerkily running a hand through his hair, “fuck off. Why are you doing this?” You frown; did he think you were just going to let him off the hook? Congratulate him on his first big independent move as CEO? But then his head sinks into his open palms, and he takes a deep, shuddering breath, and you realize suddenly that that is exactly what he’d expected. Or hoped for. He’s still for just long enough that you get nervous; when you’re about to ask him if he’s alright, though, he raises his head and locks eyes with you.

Your phone dings, and you break eye contact to quickly check the notification. It’s one of your writers; she’s sent you a text about the Joy news, and by the tone of her message, she’s extremely freaked out. When you look back to Roman, he’s still staring at you with that same angry disappointment—disappointment that you won’t just lay down and tell him he did the right thing. “Listen, Roman,” you begin, holding his gaze, “it’s my job too. I mean you’re the new CEO, you’re fuckin’ stretching your legs—good for you. But if we lose the movie side of our operation for a while because of this… That’s abysmal for me.”

His eyes widen a little, and you’re shocked to see, for just a second, an apology forming at his lips—but before he can finish mouthing “sorry” he stops, pressing his mouth into a hard line. He stares down with furrowed eyebrows at his hands, lightly clasped together in his lap, and he’s silent for a long time. As you watch him, he takes a deep, labored breath. “Well, in that case…” He’s barely audible. “Why don’t I just fire you too? Since you failed to convince a chief executive to stick with the company and tanked your department.”

The shocked grin that pops onto your face is completely involuntary, and you breathe an exasperated, “Oh my God.” You turn away and shake your head, taking a steady breath. What the fuck’s gotten into him? You’ve already seen that he’s not afraid to make horrific business decisions; firing you would come as easily to him as breathing right now. But you’re not going to beg Roman Roy, your only friend in this morally bankrupt circus, for your job. You refuse to. So, you fold your hands across your desk, and you reply as evenly as you can. “Technically, Roman, you don’t fire me. Tom Wambsgans does.”

He raises his eyebrows, and you can practically hear the “um, actually” before he even opens his mouth. “Yeah, I know,” you continue, smiling ruefully, “you can just fire Tom, and fucking—eat him alive and become him, and then… You can do whatever you want with me, right?” This has almost become amusing; you feel a weird compulsion to laugh.

That feeling vanishes when you see the look on Roman’s face. It’s like you flipped a switch; his gaze instantly disconnects from yours and he looks straight down like he’s trying to stare a hole through his shoe. You frown a little as you peer over at him, trying to figure out what the hell he’s thinking, when you fully realize what you just said. It’s an invitation, a statement more intimate than anything you’ve ever said to each other before, and he knows it. Roman slowly stands up from his seat and you watch him, look closely at the expression on his face—and the darkness in his eyes confirms your thoughts. It’s not like you’ve never thought about him in that way; frankly, he’s the only human connection you’ve made since you started at Waystar. You’ve often wondered (or perhaps hoped) if he was ever going to make a move on you, and a long time ago, you decided that if he ever did, you’d reciprocate it. You’re going to do just that. He wants a win, and you want him—everyone gets what they need.

He takes a few measured steps towards you and you feel yourself lean just a bit closer to him; just as you’re about to stand, he bends down, snakes his arms around your waist, and practically yanks you up to meet him. With a forcefulness that you’ve never, ever seen him display, he kisses you, disregarding gentleness and letting everything run on pure, unfiltered instinct. Your hands quickly find him, and you place one firmly against his cheek while the other slides through his hair. He holds on for a bit longer, trying to put as much as possible into that first, fantastic kiss, and then he has to pull away.

As you part, both reeling, he whispers, “Say that again.” When you don’t respond—you’re still catching your breath—he mumbles, “Please. Please say it.”

You’re more than happy to oblige him, and you stare right into his dark eyes as you speak. “You can do whatever you want with me, Roman.” Your words coax a full body shudder from him, and his lips are right back on yours, hands running over every part of your body they can access. His fingers skirt under the hem of your shirt and there’s a loud fucking knock at the door—and you both freeze exactly where you are.

It’s Kendall. Great. “Hey Rome, I saw you come in here, buddy. Uh—we’re, uh, crunching some big ass numbers out here, and I would love to have your eyes on these maximizations to the user-facing stock plane.”

“What the fuck does that mean…?” you breathe, and a short, high-pitched laugh escapes Roman.

As you both try to suppress your laughter beneath wide grins, Kendall calls, “What was that, bro?”

Roman quickly clears his throat. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a sec, Ken.”

“Cool. Fantastic.” And you and Roman both stand there, listening to his footsteps as they grow fainter and more distant.

The rush of the moment has faded severely, and even though you acknowledge how fucking amazing that felt and would like nothing more than to continue, you know it’s not the most practical thing to do. “…You should probably head out there, right? Make sure he doesn’t just start making up figures?”

Roman snorts as he untangles himself from you. “Yeah, he would do that, wouldn’t he?” He stands before you, looking wonderfully disheveled, and you reach out to fix his collar and smooth his hair.

He practically melts under your touch as you comb through his hair with your fingers. You half expect him to kiss you again, but it seems the tension was sucked out of the room by Kendall and his corporate bullshit speak. You wish he would kiss you again. After one last sweep of his hair, you propel yourself forward and kiss him gently, sweetly; he kisses back, but he makes no attempt to move closer to you, so you take a step forward and close the gap.

“…I’m fucking this up,” he mutters, quiet and dejected, after you part. “I’m doing it all wrong and I’m being stupid.”

He’s not necessarily wrong; you try to ignore that thought as he turns and walks to the door. “Just take care of your brother,” you say with a little smile, and he gives a muted grin and a thumbs up back.

He’s so bad at this and he’s so sad. You sit back down and crack open your laptop, and within seconds about thirty emails flood into your inbox—it’s Joy’s legal team, just like she promised. You groan, and lean back, and try to get your mind off the feeling of Roman’s lips on yours so you can draft a decent apology.

#roman roy x reader #roman roy imagines #roman roy imagine #succession x reader #succession imagine #my writing

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bunnypeew · 2 months

Text

Under star lit skies -Moon/sun x reader part 2

WARNINGS: kind of depictions of violence

They are just lil guys

it was finally the saturday where you started your job at the pizzaplex, as you were getting ready you got another email from Fazbear, it said what you needed to do:

-clean up the daycare toy containers

-organise said toys

-put the kids to sleep

it was a short todo list but it seemed pretty normal until the last one. Wasn’t there moon putting the children to sleep? why did you need to do it? A lot of question flooded your mind but you tried to sho them away and continue getting ready.

you didn’t have a car, so you’d have to take the bus there, fortunately for you there was a bus specifically for getting to the pizzaplex, some sort of tourist trap you thought, but it was convenient for you so it’s a win.

As you arrived at the pizzaplex you noticed how many people actually came to this place on a whim, there were a bunch of families and teenagers alone as well, it was kinda nice to see everyone having fun in a way. It was a little crowded at the entrance so it took you a while to get inside but when you did you were hit by warmth and a smell of pizza in the air and the slight sound of music playing from the speakers on the roof. People were walking around the lobby either in group or alone, you were making your way though these people when you get grabbed by a cold metal hand and pulled out the crowd. You gather your surroundings turning around you see who pulled you, tall white animatronic, it was who you knew as Chica.

“hello sweets, you must be the new daycare attendant! welcome in hun!,,

she spoke in a eager voice, and with even an eager expression, she then gives to you a little freddy theme sack.

“here is your uniform! there is also a daycare themed jacket in there as a plus, have a good first day sugar,,

and with that she waved at you and runs towards a group of people that was waiting for her, you open the sack to see your uniform being really colourful and not at all what you expected but you didn’t complain (it probably had to do with the fact you were actually working in the daycare)

You still had the map from the last time you were here so you knew how to navigate yourself more or less. Fuck that it actually took you forever to get to the fucking daycare so when you actually arrived at the door you groaned out loud scaring a family that was probably leaving their kid there, you recomposed yourself tried then to find a changing room of some sorts. Not finding one you decided to just go to the bathroom and just change yourself in a stall, the uniform was rather colourful, it was divided in a blue and yellow way and full of stars and stripes, it also had the jacket that you decided to put on since it was pretty cool.

You then entered the Daycare finally, pushing your way through families and kids, you finally made your way towards the security desk, moving your belongings on top of it, you then look around: The place was full of kids running around and having fun and in all that chaos you finally saw Sun. He was doing arts&crafts with some kids on top of a playmat in the corner of the daycare, it was full of colours all around with toys and other things all displays in containers and shelves. You also noticed that the walls were full of kid-made drawings all around the daycare, you thought it was sweet.

You started approaching Sun and the kids, looking around the drawings that were already displayed and then stopped when you reached the playmat. Sun craned his head up from where he was sitting, sensing that someone had come closer to them.

“Oh my stars! You must be the new helper they sent our way! Golly it is truly a pleasure to meet you new friend! But I do advise you to take off your shoes, it gets yucky when you walk around on the playmats!,,

he says eagerly waging his tail around like a happy puppy at the same time he was moving around the pen he was holding. You looked shamefully at your shoes remembering that this morning you put on mismatched socks cuz you couldn’t find any pair (you were a real mess) but alas you had to take them off, so that you did putting them with the kids shoes on the specific shelves made for it.

You then got to work, spilling the toy containers to clean them and then putting the toys back in accordingly. To be honest it was a pretty easy job you weren’t complaining, the only thing that bothered you was you last task, getting the kids to sleep. Full disclosure you weren’t the best with kids so the thought that had to put each one of them to sleep was terrifying, you thought Moon was supposed to do that, thinking about it made you even more curious about what the fuck was going on so went to ask Sun about it

“hey Sun! can I ask you something?,,

“anything go ahead!,,

he said while wrestling some kids out the jungle gym, tail waging with some kids attached to it, seemed like they were having fun

“why did I get tasked with putting the kids to sleep isn’t Moon supposed to do that?,,

you ask very nonchalantly, smiling, waiting for a response. Sun tho stops smiling and his tail stops waging sending the kids in a sadden state, you got confused at this and tried to reach for him, but then he snapped back, tail waging again and smile back on his face

“oh don’t worry about that Sunshine! Moon is just currently out of service for no specific reason! not to worry, not to worry!,,

“okay…,,

you were very confused at this sudden change of emotions, but you didn’t wanna snoop in even more than you had to.

Hours had passed since you had finished your first tasks and since then you just hang out at the security desk, napping really, it wasn’t until Sun came to wake you up gently.

“hey, I know this is your first day and some stuff is hard, so i decided to help you out in putting the children to sleep! It’s not really in my programming but I could always try!,,

he spoke with a soft but still eager voice, you could tell he was trying his best to being quiet since so far he had been extremely loud. You smiled at that thinking it was sweet and then got up and stretched, you had some work to do.

You and Sun started to clean up some toys and colouring stuff that the kids had left around so you had space to put down the mattresses and blankets, when you were done with that the lights turned off all of a sudden making you gasp and making Sun stop what he was doing midway, he put the blanket down tucking in one of the kids and then started fidgeting with his hands looking away from you

“I’m sorry friend, i can’t help you further than this, be carful and have a nice nap time!,,

he mutters fatally under his breath and then starts running away, tripping over something and almost falling, he then gets hooked by a rope and pulled up to what you assumed was his room. He was quite a strange animatronic, he acted very human to you but you didn’t really mind it, it was cute. You tried to understand what he meant with be careful, you weren’t that bad to the point were you could lose the children (you probably were actually) so what did he mean by that?

You finished tucking in all the kids after half an hour of work, some kids were still in the jungle gym so you had to crumble yourself in two to get in and find them.

It was dark so you couldn’t see much but you started moving forward, calling for them in a low voice as not to wake the others.

clang

you started hearing like something was crawling outside the jungle gym, right on top of it too, you thought it was impossible for a kid to get there so you just assumed it was the natural sound it’d make (or something like that)

clang

BOOM

You were startled by the loud noise and stumbled back, something was on top of the tube you were in, you got scared looking up trying to understand what it could be, until you felt something grab your leg forcefully and pull you out of the jungle gym all in one. You felt pain in all your body, it wasn’t until you were you pulled up in the air that you opened your eyes.

“WHAT THE FUCK,,

“language,,

you screamed and then heard someone in a low voice say that next to you, you tried to turn around but were only spinned around the other way

“why are you snooping around in things that don’t concern you, brat,,

the low voice said again, it was until then that it clicked in your head that the only other thing that was were here with you it was either Sun or Moon, and Sun definitely didn’t sound like that.

“COULD YOU PUT ME DOWN PLEASE,,

you say all in one breath and surprisingly he did lower you down only to then flip you and take you by your throat slamming you against the security desk.

“no one asked for your help, leave,,

he started squeezing harder, making you lose breath you put your hands on his hand trying to get it off, it wasn’t until Sun appeared out of no where to stop his counterpart

“MOON! STOP they are a friend!! Please don’t hurt them,,

he shouted taking moon by the shoulder making his hand looser on your neck, making you fall on the ground coughing.

“Sun you are not supposed to be here,,

Moon says in a growl and looks at you then looks at Sun

He starts fidgeting and looks at you with sorry eyes, you started gathering your stuff ready to leave

what the fuck just happened.

#moondrop #sundrop #fnaf moondrop #fnaf security breach #sun and moon fnaf #fnaf fandom #fnaf sunrise #fnaf sun #fnaf sb #fnaf moon #fnaf #fnaf au #moon x y/n #moon x reader #sun x y/n #sun x reader

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weemssapphic · 7 months

Note

What about Larissa taking the reader to a pumpkin patch and they just have fun all day and get apple cider and pumpkin spice donuts!! And then they get home and put on a horror flic, and the reader swears they aren’t scared but they can’t fool Larissa at all, so she puts something else on? 😋😋I thought it was such a good idea and I would have done something like this myself but you are such a talented writer, I would love to see something like this from you!

A/N: Hello hello! Thank you so so much 🥺 that is very sweet. I thought this would be appropriate for October so I tried to get it done in a timely fashion. I really hope you enjoy 🥺 also... happy Friday the 13th! 👻

we fell in love in october

Larissa Weems x f!reader

Larissa takes you on a sweet autumn date to a pumpkin patch - fluff ensues.

Words: ~2.9k | ao3 link in title

Leaves fell from the tree outside the window, hues of brown, deep red, muted orange coloring the evening sky in their descent. Blown away by a crisp breeze that carried the sounds of students laughing and chatting on their way inside for dinner as the sky slowly turned darker, dusk settling over Nevermore Academy.

The crackling of the fireplace and the clacking of Larissa’s keyboard served as background noise as you lounged on the couch in your girlfriend’s office, engrossed in your copy of Frankenstein by Mary Shelley. You and Larissa had been together for a few months now, and it had turned into an unspoken ritual that you would pop by after work more afternoons than not to keep Larissa company as she finished up her emails, before sharing a glass of wine and some takeout and basking in each other’s company.

Today was no different. Your ears perked up when you heard the tell-tale sound of Larissa’s laptop shutting, and you set your book aside as you heard her footsteps approach. Within moments she came into view, rounding the couch and placing two fingers under your chin to gently lift your head towards hers. Soft, warm lips pressed against your own, and you could feel her smile into the kiss as she soothed her tongue along the seam of your lips. You parted them to allow her to lick gently into your mouth, sighing as her tongue began to dance with yours, every movement languid and loving.

“Hello, darling. Thank you for waiting for me,” she whispered against your lips as the two of you parted for air - you would never tire of her dulcet tones, her voice like music to your ears.

“Hi,” you said with a grin, patting the space next to you. Larissa sat down and you immediately snuggled into her, allowing her to wrap her arms around your waist and rest her chin on your head. “You’re done with work?”

“I’m all yours,” Larissa replied with a chuckle, pressing her lips to your temple - it made you shiver.

“Mmh… Do you think you could be all mine on Friday as well?” You bit your lip, watching Larissa carefully - in spite of her constant reassurance that she enjoyed spending time with you, you still sometimes felt like you were asking a lot. You knew how seriously the principal took her work, but you’d come up with the best date idea and it would be a shame to let the opportunity pass you by.

To your relief, Larissa’s face lit up with a teasing smirk. “I think I could be,” she purred. “Did you have something planned for Friday?”

“Well… This Friday is Friday the 13th… And it’s October! That’s kind of a special occasion. So I was thinking we could maybe go to a pumpkin patch together and have a date-day?” You looked up at Larissa through your lashes with your best pleading pout, watching her lips curl slowly into a soft smile.

“Hmmm,” Larissa hummed, tapping a manicured finger against her chin in thought. “What do you say I work a half-day on Friday and pick you up around noon?”

“Really?” You could feel your limbs start to tingle with excitement. “Can we?”

“Of course,” Larissa said with a chuckle, cupping your cheek. “There’s a little farm near Jericho that has a pumpkin patch around this time of year. I haven’t been but I have heard quite a few students rave about it.”

“Deal,” you said, your words turning into a squeal as Larissa began to pepper your face with kisses, before pressing her lips to yours. You melted into the kiss, as you always did, feeling her warm breath against your lips as she let out a contented sigh.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Friday morning was spent choosing an outfit - you settled on an orange knit sweater, jeans, and loafers, and took to lounging around as you waited for Larissa to pick you up.

She was, of course, punctual as always - the doorbell rang at 12 on the dot, and you shot up from the couch to answer the door.

Larissa greeted you with a soft, gentle kiss, one hand settling on your hip. “You look beautiful. Are you ready to go, my love?”

Blushing at the compliment, you nodded. “Yep, I just need my keys.” You turned to grab your keys and your bag from the little table next to the door, and allowed Larissa to lead you out to her car with her hand on the small of your back.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Nothing in your life thus far could compare to the feeling of holding Larissa’s hand in public. Her fingers curled around your own, her warm palm fitting perfectly against yours like a puzzle piece. Today was no different as the two of you ambled hand in hand towards the little farm, only briefly letting go so you could pay for your entry.

“I don’t think I’ve done something like this since I was a teenager.” Larissa sighed wistfully as she looked around, her lips curled up into a soft smile.

“It’s beautiful here,” you breathed, taking in your surroundings.

The highlight of the festival was, of course, the farm’s pumpkin patch - massive orange, white, even green pumpkins nestled amongst bales of hay - resting against the backdrop of a picturesque forest, with leaves turned brown and orange. Across from the pumpkin patch was a corn maze - you could hear the giggles and screams of children flitting between the corn stalks.

“Are we gonna carve pumpkins for Halloween this year?” you asked suddenly.

Larissa’s face broke out into a splitting grin. “I would love that,” she admitted. “Would you like to pick some?”

You nodded eagerly, spending the better part of the next half hour roaming through the pumpkin patch, picking up various pumpkins and handing them off to Larissa for inspection. She watched the entire time with an amused grin on her face, finally helping you settle on not two but four medium-sized, orange pumpkins (one for each of you, and then extras in case you messed up).

After helping you carry the pumpkins to her car, Larissa nudged you and pointed to a small, fenced in area in the distance. “I think they have a petting zoo.”

You could hardly contain the squeal of delight that left your throat at the mere thought, and you dragged Larissa over to the petting zoo.

“Oh, look, you can feed them!” You pointed to the little machines with animal feed, making your way over and purchasing a cupful. The alpacas situated nearest you began to flock around the fence, sticking their head over the top and eyeing you eagerly.

“You wanna try?” you asked, offering the cup to Larissa - she removed her glove and reached out her hand for you to pour a bit of the food in her waiting palm. She stepped up to the fence, glancing nervously in your direction as she stuck out her hand. Her face contorted in surprise as one of the alpacas began to nuzzle her palm, inhaling the feed within seconds.

“It tickles,” she said, quickly retracting her palm as you began to laugh.

“Here, let me try.” You poured some feed in your hand and offered it to a different alpaca, gasping and jumping back a bit. “Shit, you’re right, it does tickle,” you said with a giggle, shaking your hand to get rid of the funny feeling.

“How about we see the goats instead?” you suggested. With a reproachful glance at the alpacas, still gathered around the fence and staring the two of you down, Larissa agreed and followed you to the goat’s pen. There was a little latched door in the fence and you let yourself in, Larissa following behind you - albeit somewhat reluctantly.

The goats could smell the food in your cup and some ambled over immediately. You leant down towards a small goat with a black head and white legs, offering it a handful of feed. It felt much less ticklish than feeding the alpacas, and you handed Larissa the cup so that you could use your other hand to gently pet the goats.

Larissa watched you fondly, holding the cup of feed just out of reach of the eager animals.

“You’re cute, you know that?” she murmured. You looked up, blushing profusely and smiling shyly.

“Give me your hand.” You reached out and Larissa placed her hand in yours, cocking her head and watching with wide, curious eyes as you rested her hand on the goat’s back, holding it as you guided her to stroke its fur.

Larissa’s gaze never left your face, her eyes sparkling with admiration, watching you delight in being able to pet the animals. It wasn’t her favorite pastime in the world, but getting to see you so joyful was more than enough for her to be having a good time.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

“Let’s go sit down for a bit,” Larissa suggested, giving your hand a squeeze before gently tugging you in the direction of a couple of wooden stands in the distance.

You agreed, and the two of you came to a stop in front of a stand selling apple cider.

“Would you like some?” Larissa asked, already reaching for her purse.

“Is that even a question?” you teased.

Larissa paid for your drinks and the two of you took a seat at a wooden picnic table nearby. You took a sip of the warm apple cider, moaning as the taste exploded on your tongue, and Larissa raised an eyebrow at you.

“What? Does that turn you on?” you purred, taking another sip and moaning even louder this time. Larissa laughed and shook her head, a blush creeping up her cheeks.

“Hush and drink up,” she murmured.

Your eyes scanned the area you were sitting in, lighting up as they landed on a donut stand. “Riss, do you want a donut?”

Larissa nodded between sips of apple cider.

“What kind?”

“You pick.”

You ambled over to the donut stand, returning a few minutes later with two pumpkin spice donuts and handing one to your girlfriend, before settling on the bench across from her.

“Of course you would get pumpkin spice,” Larissa teased, chuckling as she accepted the donut from you.

“I don’t appreciate your tone,” you said with a laugh.

Larissa huffed, taking a bite of the donut regardless and letting out a moan of her own - you began to laugh harder and Larissa joined in, her eyes crinkling at the outer edges and her face scrunching up in glee.

The two of you ate in amicable silence, savoring the donuts and each other’s presence and basking in a surprisingly warm fall day.

“Maybe we could go on the hayride before we go home?” you suggested shyly as Larissa placed the last piece of her donut into her mouth. Her eyes went wide and she nodded, her cheeks puffed out with food. You laughed and Larissa’s face turned pink as she swallowed.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, you’re just very adorable,” you said with a grin, earning you an eye roll and a light, playful slap from your girlfriend. She always said she hated when you called her adorable, but she would blush and smile every single time, so you would keep doing it.

“Call me adorable again and we aren’t going on that hayride,” she mumbled with a soft smile, her eyes sparkling in the low light of the afternoon sun.

Ten minutes later, you were sitting in a wagon with Larissa to your left, the sun slowly beginning its descent in the sky and casting a golden glow over the blonde. Your surroundings were picturesque, but all you could focus on was the stunning woman next to you. It seemed your sentiments were returned, for Larissa’s eyes - flooded with warmth and affection - never left your own. Her right arm was wrapped snugly around your shoulders as her left hand rested on your thigh, her thumb rubbing absentminded circles over your jeans.

“Rissa?”

“Yes, darling?”

“I love you.”

A beaming smile spread across the blonde’s face and she ducked her head, leaning in until her lips were inches away from yours. “I love you, too,” she whispered against your lips, before closing the gap to kiss you. The kiss was soft, and tender - it made your heart flutter and your stomach flip as the last rays of the sun enveloped the two of you in a warm glow.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

“Can we watch a horror movie?” you asked as you stepped through the threshold of Larissa’s apartment after the short drive back from the pumpkin patch. The two of you left the pumpkins outside the door for later.

The blonde raised an eyebrow at you, her expression nothing short of skeptical as she slipped out of her heels and removed her coat. “Are you sure? Don’t you remember what happened the last time we watched a horror movie together?”

“I haven’t the faintest clue what you’re talking about,” you replied airily, kicking off your shoes and tossing your bag on the floor. Of course you knew what she was talking about - you’d gotten so panicked that, during one particularly gruesome jump-scare, you’d thrown the popcorn bowl at the tv. Larissa had found stray pieces of popcorn underneath her couch for weeks after.

“Whatever you want, my dear,” Larissa said with a teasing grin, pressing a kiss to your forehead, before ushering you in the direction of her bedroom. “Let’s get changed first, hmm?”

Being that you spent so much time at Larissa’s, you had a few spare changes of clothes for when you’d spontaneously decide to stay the night - but you still preferred to wear your girlfriend’s clothes whenever possible. They smelled like her, and they were big and soft and somehow just way comfier than your own.

Tonight, you opted for a pair of leggings and an old t-shirt of Larissa’s, while she went for a sage green, silk camisole top and a white cardigan, paired with matching sweatpants. Larissa stepped behind you as you got changed, helping you pull the t-shirt over your head - you shivered as her fingers brushed teasingly down your abdomen, before splaying out over your stomach and pulling you flush against her.

“You’re beautiful,” she whispered softly into your hair, pressing her lips to the crown of your head. You could feel yourself blush and you spun around in her arms, wrapping your own arms around her neck and pulling her in for a languid kiss.

Larissa reached around you, flicking off the light in her bedroom and guiding you back out into the living room, her lips still pressed against yours until the backs of your knees hit the couch.

“Hot chocolate?” she breathed against your lips.

You nodded gratefully, curling up on the couch as Larissa disappeared into the kitchen - returning shortly after with two mugs of hot chocolate.

“Would you like anything else?”

“Nope, thanks.” You accepted one of the mugs - it warmed your hands, and the huge pile of marshmallows on top made you giggle.

Larissa settled beside you, wrapping an arm securely around your shoulders and pulling you into her. “Is The Conjuring alright?” she asked as she began to flick through Netflix.

“Yes! I love Vera Farmiga!”

Larissa chuckled and pressed play, wiggling her hips a bit to get comfy.

You tried to be brave, you really did. But every slight change in the music made your muscles tense, your entire body flinching so bad that you had to place your mug on the coffee table.

“Are you alright, dove?” Larissa whispered, directly into your ear - you hadn’t expected it and you jumped in surprise, your heart pounding viciously. When you turned your head to look at your girlfriend, she was smirking, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

“I’m fine,” you squeaked.

Larissa knew you like she knew the back of her own hand - somehow, she’d been able to read you like a book from day one. She snorted and set her own mug down, pausing the movie and wrapping both arms around your waist. You melted into her touch immediately - warm, comforting, safe. Your heartbeat began to slow and you let out a nervous giggle. “Okay, I’m not fine. But we can keep watching it if you want!”

“Hmm… I think I’d rather you feel comfortable with what we watch.” Larissa pressed her lips to yours, her hands stroking up and down your sides. “How about we put something else on?”

Biting your lip, you nodded and accepted the remote from Larissa. Some dumb, silly comedy like The Heat would be good, you thought.

“Come here,” Larissa murmured, patting her lap. You curled up on the couch, resting your head on her thighs. Her hand immediately settled on your head and began to stroke your hair, her nails lightly scratching at your scalp and making you shiver.

“Sorry,” you whispered timidly, peeking up at Larissa through your lashes.

Larissa looked down at you with a confused smile, brushing a strand of hair off your forehead. “Sorry for what, darling?”

“Suggesting we watch a scary movie and not being able to finish it.” You felt your cheeks flush and hid your face in her lap - then you felt Larissa’s lips on your head. “That’s not something you need to apologize for. I promise.”

You peeked up again to see Larissa beaming lovingly down at you, and you sighed in relief, snuggling closer and allowing her to continue stroking your hair as the two of you watched the movie. The perfect ending to a perfect day.

-> some activities (HELLO, PETTING ZOO, ANYONE?) based super loosely on a fall festival/pumpkin patch I visited in 2019 with my best friend, near Nashville, TN - one of my fondest memories! hmu if you want to see a picture of me with a goat <3

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