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#^^^ very normal things to say to a man you just met and have already called good-looking twice
yuri-is-online · 2 days
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Okay so Trey in the Blotpocalypse timeline or where Yutu comes from also Overblotted right??
And I like to imagine he became an extreme sadist or really really evil once he overbloted, and his Yutu does NOT buy the stories of Trey being actually a very chill and “I don’t want problems, don’t involve me with whatever shenanigans you have” guy.
And when goes to the timeline of now he just.
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“Wait, this guy fr??? I saw this guy overbloted and being a sadist maniac, the FUCK you mean he is just the son of the baker”
¬‿¬ you read my mind camrastuff. Overblot Trey is a sadistic bastard, and his children are three of his favorite people to pick on... because yeah the original idea for Trey! Yutu passed peer review, and Furubatsu was kind enough to give us the names Yutres and Yushi for the other two triplets. You will regret giving me this power because I am going to use it to hurt you ψ(`∇´)ψ
notes: they/them used for Yuu, for context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here. This post is heavier on the angst than the other Yutu posts and contains references to gore, depression, and major character death. Please engage responsibly.
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They grew up associating home with violets.
Yuu would always keep a few plants on their bedroom windowsill, but the violets spilled all over the house. "They remind me of your father." They would always say, with a gentle look in their eyes that turns sad when they reach for the memories that just aren't there. As the triplets grow, they take turns caring for them so Yuu can rest and wonder about what that man was like and how Yuu came to associate him with the flowers. Yutres is the one who brings up their association with newlyweds and wonders if they were planning a wedding.
"There would be a record of it if they got married." Yushi says it like she's searched for the license already, and knowing his sister like he does Yutu is pretty sure she has. Yutres pulls her blanket around herself in embarrassment and Yutu finds himself speaking up before she can feel any worse.
"She was just saying it's romantic." Yutu doesn't like fighting with his sisters. He likes it even less when they fight with each other, everyone who isn't the two of them says it's because he's the oldest. That he has an instinctive need to protect them as their big brother, . "A lot of the things they say about dad are very romantic." Yushi rolls her eyes, but doesn't disagree. Domestic is the word Yutu would prefer to use for how Yuu talks about his father. They think about him most when they're cooking or taking care of him and his siblings. It's not enough to give him a clear picture of the man, but it's enough to feel like he might have loved him. He's willing to go with what Yushi theorized after looking far harder than he or Yutres, that Yuu ran away from home and settled down with their dad, only for him to die and ruin the good future they were trying to build with each other. It does nothing to dissuade Yutres from seeing it as romantic, or Yushi from blaming him for all their problems. Yutu refuses to take sides, forever the peacemaker destined to drown his own opinion under the weight of not wanting to make anyone mad. Deep down though, he doesn't care about what his dad was like. He just wishes someone was there to help, to make things less financially strained so he could play a sport at school and maybe make some friends.
When he meets his father he takes it all back. He wishes he never met the man at all.
Yutu per tradition is the oldest sibling, Yutres is the second born and Yushi the third. I like to think they have darker colored hair since Trey's green hair is rather dark, their eyes are "normal" for Yuu's world but turn yellow when they arrive in Twisted Wonderland. Yutres inherits Trey's height and poor eyesight, and she's deeply insecure about both due to the large amount of bullying she received growing up. Yutu is also tall, just not as tall as his sister while Yushi is at least a half foot shorter than her siblings and enjoys complaining about it. She accuses her siblings of stealing her height in the womb, but says it's ok because she got all the brains.
The kids grew up extremely poor. Three kids on a single parent's salary is no joke, Yuu was deeply stressed for a lot of their younger years. None of the fyuuture kids like Yuu's home town but the triplets especially hated it there. They felt like animals in a zoo or cast members of a freak show with how acceptable it was to point and stare at them. When they moved away once Yuu managed to secure a place with a better middle school for them to attend they were ecstatic. It was a nice change of pace to just be bullied for being poor.
They spent a lot of time as children playing made up games with each other, a lot of them revolved around cooking since Yuu seemed to really like doing that. They used to run pretend restaurants, or ice cream parlors, or cafes, anything that served food really. They always colored the menus together and asked Yuu to give them good reviews (5 stars for the babies obviously, yuu has a bunch of them in a folder somewhere they look at when things get rough)
I really like the idea of Trey being with a Yuu who has a vague interest in candy making? Because it's a similar interest to baking but still very different and I really like the idea of one of the triplets being interested in it. As the three get older, Yutu and Yutres learn as much about cooking and baking as they can, from Yuu, from the internet and the local library while Yushi applies herself more to experimenting with making things like taffy and caramel. She convinces her siblings to sell their product on the down low at school to bring in some money they can hopefully use to start a business someday. She's the most business minded of the three of them, Yutu privately thinks she has the biggest personality in an effort to make up for being the shortest.
The three of them are obviously major sweet tooths, but they disagree about what desert is best. Yutu loves custards and ice creams, Yutres thinks cake is best especially if it's fluffy, and Yushi likes things made with jams and candied fruits. It made trying to do something for their birthday a nightmare until Yuu realized they all loved hot chocolate and was able to convince them to have a "tea party" for their birthday where they got copious amounts of hot chocolate and some homemade cookies. It's a memory they all treasure and recreate when they arrive in Twisted Wonderland.
That arrival is much easier on the three of them than it is on a lot of the other Yutus. It helps having two other siblings you're deeply connected to when learning you're from another world, your parent is dying from a curse, and that magic is real but only two of you have it. NRC has ceased to be a boys only or even a mage's only school at this point, but it's still hurts for Yutres to learn that her siblings have something special about them while she's still just her. Crewel takes her aside to speak with her as the ceremony goes on without him, asking her if she thinks poorly of Yuu for just being themselves and Yutres can't fathom why she would do that. "Because that's what you're doing to yourself. Your siblings won't love you any less and you won't be of any less help. You are your parent's child after all." Something that Crewel sees as being made all the more true when two first year Heartslabyul students burst through the door and start whining for their sister to do their make up.
Yutres draws a Spade on Yutu to represent a knight's spear, because she thinks of her brother as someone who wants to protect people, and she's deeply grateful for all of the times he's stuck up for her. Yushi gets a diamond because Yutres thinks her sister is very classy and well put together, "diamonds are a girl's best friend or something" is how she words it, but that trademark Clover smirk is there to suggest there's more to it than that. She settles in to Ramshackle almost immediately after meeting the ghosts, who are overjoyed to have another Yuu in their happy haunt.
Heartslabyul suits her siblings well enough. Yutu thinks all these rules are exhausting but he tries his best to do his best so as not to rock the boat. Yushi is more or less the same, but she sort of wants to become Dorm Leader so she can throw a bunch of Unbirthday Parties because those sound fun. The lack of fresh food available to cook with is a drag sure, but she's sure she can at least find some good teas to serve... she just feels like the people around her could use some hope and she drags Yutu into figuring out how to find it.
That journey is long, at the end of it are six known phantoms wreaking havoc on their father's world and one that so few people know about they aren't sure he exists. At some point, all three triplets join a mission to the Queendom and debriefed by S.T.Y.X. about the phantom that roams there.
"Your quest is not to kill the Queen or her mini boss level minions." Idia is a strange person, Yutu can tell he's on the same page as his sisters without bothering to look. "You're just there as support for the front line mages and to get a realistic idea of what they're fighting against." He lets his hands fall to his sides and drops eye contact, chewing on his lower lip as he hesitates. Finally he takes a deep breath and turns towards the display, flicking through footage of the various monsters he had been talking about earlier. "A phantom is a husk using what's left of an overblotted mage to find and feed off of new magic sources. They can get very creative in how they do that." He focuses on a video of the Phantom Hatter, enlarging it so the triplets can get an uncomfortable look at it's facial features and know why Idia was struggling to talk to them. The monster is tall, with glasses and a top hat that would be sort of comical if he wasn't overseeing a table filled with rotting cakes and pastires for a party attended by corpses in varying states of decay. "This one talks. Don't listen to a word it says."
Trey has lines during lessons and in various other places suggesting he could never obey the Queen, and since Riddle is more Queen now than himself Trey has a degree of independence when compared to the other card soldiers. The S.T.Y.X. staff classify him as a rogue phantom and highly dangerous. He can talk, he uses his unique magic to make people confused about their surroundings, to mimic the voices of their loved ones and lure them towards packs of monsters where he'll watch silently as they die. He's picky about who he "invites" to his mad tea party, it's difficult to get a drone close enough to his base to analyze who the victims are.
Idia was vehemently against sending the Clover triplets anywhere near an area that the Hatter could be. That's beyond cruel to them and extremely dangerous, he just knows that Trey will find them and that it won't go well. Phantoms corrupt the natural instinct of the person they're feeding off of, and while Idia thinks Trey was always a sketchy bastard he knows that he was a domestic one too. If there's enough of him left to recognize his children... his worries are soothed by Ortho promising to keep an eye on them and the fact the mission isn't in Trey's usual territory.
It doesn't help. A familiar sees the strange looking children and speeds off to fetch its master. The Phantom Hatter doesn't show himself immediately, he watches, waits for everyone to relax just a little bit before he strikes, chasing everyone into one of the Queendom's many hedge mazes and isolating them from one another. The stress causes Yushi to discover her unique magic as she desperately tries to feel for her siblings, she is able to form a brief telepathic connection with someone she knows and see things as they are. She can tell that Yutu and Yutres are in danger, and decides to run for her brother first. She's sure he'll be half way to their sister by the time she finds him, he's the oldest. He always knows what to do. And while she's right she's also wrong, by the time she finds Yutu he's already found Yutres, but someone else has too. The Hatter doesn't blink. He doesn't breathe either she notices, but her sister still shrinks back, pulling an injured Yutu closer to her.
"Well that's just rude." It's not a voice they've heard before, but he's somehow so familiar. Like they heard this voice before, sometime long ago, whispered into the warmth that existed before they were torn from this world to be born in another one. "I'm just trying to say hello." Yushi doesn't think he's noticed her yet, she focuses on holding her breath and looking for a way out. Yutres maintains eye contact with the monster as she applies a potion to Yutu's wound and prays, to who or what she doesn't know, that he heals. "Have we met before? You seem awfully familiar." The monster summons bones up from the ground, closing in around the triplets and knocking Yushi out of hiding as the phantom looks over his shoulder to tip his hat and wink. It's an opening Yutres immediately takes, throwing Yutu behind her and jumping to hit at the monster's rib cage, landing a blow that causes a sickening crunch.
"RUN!" Yushi screams, she thinks she grabs her sister and brother's hands and drags them on instinct and adrenaline back to the base camp until a senior smites down the phantom the Hatter had mimic her sister and takes an unconscious Yutu to the medical tent.
Ortho tries to track down Yutres, but he's unsuccessful. It's months later when Idia finally thinks to send drones to check what's left of the Clover family bakery and finally finds her body. She's been laid in a children's bed, covered with a blanket. He can't tell if what's left of Trey couldn't bear to look at his dead daughter or if the phantom thought he was just putting her to sleep. It's too much even for Idia, he personally retrieves her and helps the surviving kids plan the funeral. It's not the first time he's felt responsible for getting someone's child killed, but it's the most personal.
Yutu's numb. Yushi is looking to him for guidance, and he doesn't know what to say to comfort her or to make it better. They're missing a part of themselves and are much too quick to agree to Idia's plan to send them back in time, their parents are the last thing on their minds they just want their sister back. When Yushi arrives in the Queendom she's able to tell where everyone is and go searching for them. When Yutu arrives at NRC he's terrified he's lost his only remaining sister, and that's before he has to deal with his dad.
Trey is a freak, but he's a domesticated freak. A domesticated freak who is deeply in denial about being in love with you or anything other than normal. He appreciates that Riddle feels comfortable enough to invite you to Heartsabyul, whether it's for a casual tea or for an Unbirthday party since it saves him the trouble of having to do it himself and you're always so eager to help... but then Yutu arrives and suddenly your attentions are a bit split. You still come around for the parties, but casual teas are becoming less and less. He tries to tease you about it, asking where else you're going to get your cakes from and that's when you mention it. "Oh Yutu bakes a lot and he's really good at it. I always feel bad for bothering you so, it's nice to not have to do it so much anymore." Oh? Well isn't that just cute, Trey isn't bothered by this at all. He might not think there's a difference between something bought from a store or something "made with love" but he certainly thinks there's a difference between him and another guy. And he wants you to choose him.
Yutu is terrified of his father. He still has nightmares of what happened to Yutres, and he's afraid he's lost Yushi now too. No one had much to say about Trey in the future, most all of his friends were either dead or phantoms and while Grandpa Crewel was enthusiastic in describing his interest in science he didn't give them much backstory. Idia never spoke poorly of him, and tried to impress on him that what killed his sister was a monster using his dad's magic and not actually his dad but when that thing kills your sister...
He doesn't know what to make of him. Trey's extremely chill so long as no one is causing trouble, he convinces himself to keep an eye on the Phantom Hatter, but he doesn't see any signs of that. The guy is really weird about teeth, and definitely in denial about his feelings for his parent but he is, weirdly enough, closer to that word Yutu would have associated with him before he came to Twisted Wonderland than he is anything that would describe that monster. He's domestic, a guy who looks like he'd be more at home in socks and sandals than surrounded by corpses. He overworks himself and takes naps on the Guest Room couch, he confesses that he was hoping to join some sort of cooking club but settled for the science one, and the way he looks at Yuu when he thinks no one is looking is so soft Yutu wants to choke. Idia's original warning, that a phantom isn't a person anymore and that the monster will do anything to convince you otherwise. But what would his sisters think if he ever thought about forgiving him?
"Is there a specific reason you wanted to grow violets?" Trey tries to keep his voice down, but Yutu still starts when he hears him. He didn't jump 10 feet in the air this time, so he likes to think he's making progress, though towards what he doesn't know. Yutu looks at the flowers, Trey can't see his eyes, but his grip on the watering can is tense. "Not judging, just curious." He tries to soothe him in the same tone of voice he would one of his younger siblings, and it does seem to work somewhat. "I really like them myself."
"My sister..." Yutu chokes on what sounds like a half sob, and Trey immediately regrets trying to help. "My sister really liked them she... she always thought they were romantic." The past tense catches Trey's attention immediately and something in him aches, he couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose one of his own siblings and he does talk about them a lot... was he being insensitive? Did he hurt Yutu by reminding him of his sister?
"Are they?" He isolates a few particularly well tended blooms and snips them to add to his basket next to Riddle's strawberries. "I'm not really good with those sorts of things." Yutu snorts, and Trey can't help but feel slighted somehow. "To me they just taste good."
"They taste good?" Yutu squeaks. He sounds indignant and Trey just shrugs.
"Yeah, candied flowers are really popular in the Queendom of Roses. I really like candied violets, ha when I was a kid I didn't realize you needed to cook them first and my parents had to stop me from eating them off the ground." There's quiet for a moment, Trey wonders if he's pushed it too far but Yutu's mouth finally lets out a small noise before he breaks into loud peels of laughter that sound like a weight is lifting off of Yutu's shoulders.
The first thing Yutu thinks when he hears about his father eating flowers is how Yushi tried to do the same thing when she was little. The second is how funny Yutres had thought that was, how she had smiled and laughed and Yutu cannot keep himself from laughing as well. How did this man become that creature? Did the loss of his home hit him that hard? Yutu doesn't know, but he's not afraid anymore. Some of his tension lifts, Yuu tells Trey during one of their hang outs that he's started speaking about his sisters more and that they now know he's a triplet (trey: wow those poor parents yuu: i know right? i could never). He starts getting into lighthearted (from his perspective anyway) spats with Trey over who can bake better. Trey says he has no complaints because he doesn't have to make as much for Unbirthday Party's now but ooooooh he'll be so upset if you say you think Yutu is better than him. If that was the case why's the little shit so interested in listening to what he has to say huh? And how did he pick up on Trey's feelings enough to reassure him he's got nothing to worry about?
The truth about Yutu is revealed during another monster attack. It happens during a science club trip to Crane Port, the sky grows eerily dark, and Yutu tenses out of instinct. Everyone else is confused, is it going to rain? And why is Yutu sprinting away from the group like a bloodhound with a scent? Rook is the one to give chase, Trey tagging along begrudgingly determined to keep the two of them from causing more trouble. But a bunch of trouble is exactly what they find, a monster that resembles an undead, overblotted version of Yuu is thrashing about as a group of... mages they don't recognize attack them. Trey and Rook prepare to help when Yuu notices them and their eyes narrow onto Trey and two of the unfamiliar looking mages absolutely lose it.
Yutu's disguise is knocked off, and Yushi was never wearing one to begin with so it's difficult to deny the similarity between the two now that Trey has a look at them. It's the eyes that he notices first, yellow just like his but bereft of glasses. Yuu's story about Yutu being a triplet rings dully in his mind as the fake Yuu fades from view, banished back to wherever it came from and Trey closes his eyes to do some math.
"There's one of you missing." It's not the statement they're expecting clearly, all justifications for their existence die on their tongues as they exchange a painful glance. Yushi was able to use her magic to see some of what Yutu's life was like at NRC, and she warmed up to what she saw of her dad much faster than Yutu did. Yutu doesn't want to be the one to tell Trey he killed their sister, but he also doesn't want to push that burden onto Yushi so he steels himself, and explains his story. Trey listens and he thinks. He's silent, arms folded as Yutu stumbles through his story before he interrupts his grief by pulling both of his children into his arms. He's a big guy, but they're big kids and he can barely get his arms around them both but he still feels empty.
Trey hates doing work he isn't responsible for, but he loves his family and doesn't see them as constant work. Three children? That Yuu was forced to raise by themselves? Unacceptable, the closer he has been getting to Yuu the more plans he's made for the future he wants with them. He knows what he wanted for these kids, and none of it is what they're describing. Trey might not want to be the best of all time, but he still wants to be the best he can be. Changing the future sounds like a big ask, something that Trey Clover should see as none of his business and easy to ignore. But it's not, it's different when it's his own family. If Idia thinks he's scary now just wait until three Clovers show up on his doorstep demanding he get in their party and stop the apocalypse. Four technically if you count yourself, something they really hope you do.
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lines from the 1897 play Cyrano de Bergerac that definitely have not invaded my brain or destroyed my sleep schedule
all quotes transcribed in alt text
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ridingthatd · 4 months
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jjk men being a sex therapist
choso, sukuna, toji, nanami, gojo, geto, megumi, yuji, etc...
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contains: fem!reader, kinks, masturbation, filthiness, he's down bad like really bad, humping, dirty talk, squirting, stomach bulge, rough sex, teasing, multiple positions, virgin reader, licking, sucking, dirty, my work is really filthy, choose your character, etc..
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you never thought you would be visiting a therapist, you have always thought for a long time that it's bullshit to pay someone to listen to you rent about your problems when you can do it for free? but clearly things change.
here you were at the work office of non other then your dear friend;he was a professional. a type of man who was very serious about his work. at first when you take a look at him. you would think he works as a "normal" therapist as your parents call them.
your parents were a very religious people. ever since you were young they pushed their mentality into you. so imagine their shock once they knew that one of your dear friends worked as a sex therapist. well- you can say they weren't really pleased by that.
your parents always liked him- since you first introduced them to him. they had favoured him among all of your other friends, and of course you knew why. it was because of his money.
you snap out of your thoughts once you hear firm footsteps making their way toward your small figure. your poster stiffen as he tower over you, even when he takes a seat in front of you- he still looks huge as he always do.
"sweetheart, you don't have to be nervous" his rough voice mutters out as his eyes slowly trails your shaky figure. you take a deep breath and fidget anxiously with your fingers, not knowing how to start the conversation.
HIS POV:
he was fucked. he was fucking fucked. his heart beats echos loudly through his chest, his voice caught in his throat- unable to breath, afraid his next breath would scare you- would give you a hint of what a nasty beast your friend is. his eyes piercing through your small shaky figure. the way he can see your cleavage peeking through your cute little dress everytime you take a shaky breath out.
he couldn't help the way his fat cock stiffen in his pants as his mind run a mile with filthy thoughts about you. he hold backs a groans as he stares at your small little hands- imaging the way they would feel on his throbbing cock, they you would struggle to fit his fat cock in your palm. the way you would stare at him with your innocent eyes while your hands are filled with his leaking cock.
it was always this way. ever since he met you- it felt like his life flipped upside down. he was never interested in sexual intercourse, he never felt any passion in it. ever since he started his studies, his goal was to be a psychologist. he found it interesting the way the human mind worked- that was until you fucked up his mind.
he was so confused, flustered as he stares at his hard cock. it was the first time he met you, at the bakery he always went to after an exhausting day. and here he was hiding in the bathroom with his leaking cock out of his pants, red and throbbing ready to fill his boiling sperms inside of a girl he just met. it only took one stroke to have him groaning, he felt like he was on fire. like he was some animal in heat.
he wants to cum- no he wants to cum inside of you. he wants to fill you. he wants to feel your heated skin on his boiling one. he wants to taste you. he wants his face to be dripping with your juice. he wants you to squirt on it. he wants to feel your warm walls around his fat cock. he wants to suckle on your tongue. he wants to fill your boobs with his milk and taste it on his tongue. he wants to squeeze your sensitive nipples till they leak of milk. he wants to-
his thick thighs shakes as he slides down the bathroom door. his cock shooting throbs of cum hitting his abdomen. he whines- he never felt like that, he never did something like that. he stares at his already hard cock. it was red, angry, hard again ready to spill his seeds.
that was the beginning of it all. after that he deep dived through a lot of filthy stuff. a lot of kinks. he wanted to experience all of them with you- but he knew you were to innocent for him, especially from your family background.
and here you were. at his office, innocently staring at him. he wants to jump at you- he wants to know why, how, what did you want? coming to a sex therapist? coming to him? his cock painfully throb, excited for the out come of this. excited of what you filthy things the little mouth of yours is gonna say.
"well... i- i really don't know where to start" you mutter out biting on your lips nervously. avoiding making eye contact with your friend that was sitting opposite of you. "i really don't have any experience in... in these stuff but-" you lower your voice face flushing wondering if it was the right decision to come here and say what you're about to say.
his heart stops beating. he stiffens at your words. "but?..." he's scared he won't be able to control himself. his fat cock is already doing to much.
you take a deep breath and look at his half lidded eyes before speaking out. "but I want to learn". you were sweating, nervous on what your friend is gonna think of you. "my parents think it's sinful to talk about sex and- i- and i really don't wanna talk about it with a stranger so you're the only one i have.." you shakily whisper out your words.
"fucking hell" he growls, staring at you with so much hunger as he adjust himself. man spreading his huge thighs, while leaning back his eyes never leaving your figure. "you want me to teach you baby? hm?" he questions darkly.
your face flush at the nickname he always calls you. "i- yes". you flinch at you hear his deep chuckle this is the first time you saw him smirk in such situations.
"hm? so my little baby wants me to teach her about sex? how filthy" he growls out his last words. not being able to hide how aroused he is from the whole thing. your eyes slowly trail down his figure. admiring the way he slowly remove his tie and starts to unbutton the half upper part of his blouse, before rolling up his sleeves giving you a full view of his vieny biceps and huge chest.
you let out a gasp as you stare at the outline of his pants. he follows your eyes and groans as he palms his hard cock through his pants, stroking it as he admire the way you stare at him. so shocked. so innocent. "have you ever touched yourself baby?" he breath out, panting from the heatness running through his whole body.
you didn't even pay attention to what he said, to lost at the way his fat cock was throbbing through his pants under his huge palm. "fucking hell baby- pay attention you're driving me crazy" he whines out, going crazy at the way you were starting at him lustfuly.
you eyes snap to his, heavy breath leaving your lips, before you lick them dry whispering out your next words. "i- yes". he moans out to the ceiling at your words, he was sure he's gonna cum through his pants from how much he was leaking.
"show me baby, show me how" he look at you with pleading eyes, his hands still working on his huge cock, stroking it painfully.
you don't know how it got there. your tits were spilling out of your bra, leaving your nipples hard. while your skirt was rolled up revealing your wet pussy as you stroke your swollen clit. your juice was dripping down on the leather chair of his office.
while he sits on the opposite side, stroking his fat cock, squeezing it, milking it. it was your first time seeing a mans cock this close- and god it made you so filthy. he was huge, his tip was red, sensitive as precum leaks out of it, while the base of his cock was surrounded with veins plusing, needing to spill his seeds.
"shit- pinch your nipples like a fucking slut" he growls out his words, his eyes never leaving your body, drool sliding down his red puffy lips.
maybe it’s wrong.
but right now, you don’t care.
all you care about is the way his entire body tenses when you bring one hand up to your breast and squeeze. he grips the chair with one hand while pumping his dick with the other. the wood groans, threatening to splinter. nobody’s ever looked at you the way he is now- like he wants to consume you.
"don’t stop" you moan, spreading your thighs and pulling up the hem of your skirt as your fingers seek out your pulsing cunt. "baby- fuck i can't" he whines, breathing hard, his hair was messy, cheeks and chin entirely flushed soaked with his drool.
his chair groans as he ruts against it, flushed cock smearing precum along the edge of his hands, “need more”. you whimper. that all it takes for him to stand up and make his way toward you.
you gasp as he picks you up and place you on his chair instead of yours, and the next thing he does had you whimpering from how filthy it was. he bends down on his knees in front of the chair you were stroking your clit on, and he starts licking and suckling the mess you made on the chair, licking the wetness you left.
his office was filled with the wet suckling noises and the groans he made while he licked your juice off the chair. "you gotta excuse me for this, i can't let anything go to waste" he groans out, while he stand up and make his way towards you. immediately picking you up and placing you on his lap.
your back to his chest. you can feel his fat cock leaking on your back causing you to clench your thighs together, you can feel his hot breath on your ear. you whine as he sticks his tongue into your ear, kissing and licking every inch of it while his hand slowly trail his cock and place it directly on your clit- making your pussy snuggle on his cock.
it felt so dirty- it was sloppy as he gently rock you on it, your wetness and his wetness mixing together, while the only thing you can hear was his tongue eating your ear up. you have never felt this pleasure in your life. this heatness- it felt like you were burning up alive, being drowned in pleasure and he must have felt the same way. “fuck, fuck, fuck,” he grunts, hips jerking into sloppily.
you suddenly feeling something building up inside of you, almost like you're gonna pee. "ah- no! i wanna- i wanna pee!" you whine out trying to move, but he beats you to it, locking you into him and moving you against his cock harder. "sh, sh it's okay bbag just let it all out". and thats exactly what you do.
your eyes roll back as your body start twitcing, you scream out before your body arch and you start squirting all over his cock- it seems like it will never end. the hot steam that was leaving you.
and that’s all it takes to send him over the edge, his body swiftly shifting upward and positioning his cock to dump rope after rope of thick, hot cum all over your pussy. you whimper, cunt clenching around nothing at the filthy sight of your juice and his dripping down both of your thighs into the ground.
and here you stay in his office. the only sound that filled it was the drops of cums landing from the chair into the ground, and both your heavy breath.
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i didn't know which character to put so feel free to imagine it with whomever you want :p
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herozdiary · 2 months
Text
Who’s the hot ass milk man?
Francis mosses x reader
This diary entry contains…Absolute down bad reader|Francis being..Francis|Suggestive in a way |Kinda modern|Reader is around the same age as Francis obviously!|Both characters are set to be 20ish 💁‍♀️|short Drabble|
A/N:My FIRST time writing about him!This fandom needed more tumblr fics as the ones on Ao3 are good besides the fact people are already making weird content about this man…ANYWAY!Enjoy!🎀
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In this day and age you wouldn’t expect people to have their milk delivered still,But some people still saw it as a nice way to make quick money.The only reason you liked milkmen still being around was because one of them was fine like hell.
Everytime you saw him it made you wanna do a cartwheel.Francis was a very quiet person who only seemed to wanna get his job done with for the day.His tired eyes always displayed had this tired look in his eyes.
When you first met him you had to stop yourself for saying the most down bad sentence to him and kindly accept the milk.The cold bottle would just sit in the fridge until you needed it for something like making pancakes or cereal.
But you were always thankful to see francis.When he did talk it was addictive to hear.His tired voice made you think things that didn't need to be thought.
Sometimes if you were lucky enough he would flash you a small smile before walking back to his truck.You always wondered if he had a lover of some sorts.He seemed to be a normal dude who was good looking so you were shocked when he revelaed he was single.
You joked about how you were always open but in the truth was that you werent really joking and that you would always be open to date him.
"do other girls try to hit on you?"You had asked while checking him out as he shook his head."Not really.Most of them don't end up even answering the door."Francis stated while handing you the bottle.You gladly took it before clearing your throat.
"Would you be interested in dating someone"You ask while swirling the container of liquid around the bottle.Francis paused before shrugging."Never crossed my mind.I'm always so busy with work i never thought about a relationship"He said before checking his watch.
"as much as i would love to listen to your ways of trying to figure out my love life so you can ask me out,I have more people to get to"He said before waving you bye and turning to head to his truck.
You stood confused on your porch before fully getting what he said.You felt your face heat up as you shuffled back into your house.Even if you wanted to deny it,You knew it was true.As you sat the bottle down on the table you realized that something was written on it.
inspecting the bottle more you smiled as you realized it was a phone number and it was signed with the letter F.You smiled as you went to write it down on a piece of paper so you dont forget to send him a text later.
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love-bitesx · 11 months
Note
I loveeeedd the last story Tysm ❤️❤️❤️ Keep up the amazing work 🌈
I have another request
Hobie x fem spider reader
Reader has a weird stalker ex-bf, and the reader tries to keep it a secret from Hobie but he finds out and deals with the ex.
: ̗̀➛ STALKER. hobie brown x fem!reader
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any criminal minds fans out there … i hope u see the parallels of my baby spencer also i'm so sorry, i didn't see until after i wrote this entire thing that you said 'fem spider reader' so it's a fem normal reader, so sorry! i hope it's still okay, tho!! thank u sm for ur support angel !! summary: hobie & y/n have been doing long distance for months, but she never told him exactly why. words: 2.8k (the words just kept coming, sorry its so long lmao) warnings: fem!reader, pronouns not really used but "my girl", "lady", etc. are, read at your own risk! weird stalker bf, creepy fella, hobie n y/n are long distance, very very soft hobie
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“when can i call you next, darlin’?” hobie’s voice was laced with longing, bass distorted by static at the other end of the phone.
“if you’re quick, we can call tomorrow after 5,” you smiled, and if you were in an 80’s romcom, you’d be twisting the phone cord between your fingers.
“5pm it is, don’t be late,” you can hear his smirk, and a bolt of guilt strikes your chest.
“look, i need to ask something, and i think i already know the answer,” hobie speaks, and you bite your lip in anticipation, “the band and i are playing at a new venue tomorrow, it’s the biggest we’ve played, we’re all dead excited, and…”
a sigh.
“well, it won’t feel the same without you there, pretty.”
if the first bolt wasn’t enough, then the second one lived up to it, striking you into the dead center of your heart. it had been well over 6 months since you met hobie. well, “met”. you’d accidentally called the wrong number one day, meaning to contact a friend of a friend, but typing the last number wrong. picking up at the other end was a deep, almost mesmerising voice, telling you; “no bother, darlin’. it happens, just make sure not to lose this number, wanna hear more from ya.”
“hobie, you know i can’t,” your voice is brimming with remorse and you look to the ground.
“i know, shit with your parents, i get it," he tried hard to hide the disappointment, but his heart twanged with neglect and it creeped through into his words.
parents. strict, all-demanding 'parents'. that's what you told hobie when you first started dating, that the reason you aren't able to see him was because your mother was overbearing and extremely protective – it was a lie. a lie that was eating you up from the inside out. the truth was slightly more grim, however.
years ago, you got involved with a guy at work. a couple brief conversations turned into dates, and dates turned into anniversaries, anniversaries turned into toxic, violent arguments and after a long time of dating, you broke up with him. to say he took it badly, was a criminal understatement. threatening phone calls, showing up at your work, sending you gifts and menacing letters – his signature move was scaring off, and even once harming, any man or potential love interest that you interacted with. it was exhausting, and terrifying.
and hobie was different. he was sweet and kind, but rough around the edges, and his voice dripped in passion no matter the topic of conversation. his promises were never empty, and most importantly – he loved you. and you loved him. the last thing you wanted, was your ex to pop up and scare him off, so you kept it from him. limiting your relationship to phone calls at arranged times incase your ex was keeping tabs.
“i’m sorry, hobie,” is all you could muster, not even scratching the tip of the catastrophic iceberg that wedged the back of your throat.
“it’s okay, darlin’, don’t worry that pretty little head over it,” and just like every phone call, you melted into his words, “i love you, yeah? i’ll call you tomorrow at 5.”
“i’ll be waiting,” you smiled, cheeks flushed at his gentle affirmations, “i love you.”
with a ruckus of movement, and what sounded like a kiss, the call ended, and you stared at the screen silently for a moment. not much longer could you avoid it, and the malten bubble of dread spilled into your gut.
sending him a quick text:
‘good luck tomorrow, handsome. what’s the venue called again? you’ll do amazing x’
you turned off your phone, discarding it on the bed as you climbed into the hole of guilt you’d dug yourself.
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“oi, you ready, blud?” hobie’s band mate yelled above the bustle and cheers from the crowd before them. large, bejewelled hands poised onto his guitar strings, he smirked.
“always.”
with a nod to the roadie, the lights went up, illuminating the stage and instruments, hobie's glowing with a harsh red tint. immediately, his sepia eyes digested the crowd. seeing the flushed, excitable faces staring back at him sent a shot of confidence to his bones, and they moved, strumming the guitar with such vigor that the stage floor shook beneath his feet. cheers erupted, and yet felt oddly empty. it was missing something, and he knew what it was immediately.
he'd truly give his all to have you there, front stage in his eyeline, screaming his songs like gospel. not that he'd ever seen you properly, only seeing teasing selfies you'd sent him over the months you'd been together. he didn't care, inherently, he'd fallen head over heels for your personality; a pretty face was only just a bonus.
however, he did yearn for your touch. to feel his hands in your hair, to kiss your cheek, your nose, your neck. he longed to have you with him, even just doing stupid little tasks, having you by his side through the domestic side of life.
his gall spurred him on, his passion surging through his fingertips, spilling out into the sound waves. the audience were lapping it up, screams and chants only barely audible under the booming power of their set. song, after song, after song his talented blood seeped out onto the strings, and his feet were almost numb from the vibration of the bass.
the final song arrived, and his chest was burning, vision blurry, heart pounding against his chest – and he loved it. it was their biggest crowd, their most excitable achievement so far, and his blood pumped with adrenaline as he finished off the set, falling to his knees as he strum his guitar with one final chord. lights falling, his chest was heaving and his eyes scanned the audience one final time – you weren’t there. he had to accept that.
“that was fuckin’ sick, blud!” his bassist yelled as they exited the stage, palm slapping hobie’s shoulder blade and elicited a wide, ecstatic grin.
“you smashed it, mate,” hobie shouted back over the booming stereo that took their place.
“nah, man, you stole the show,” his bassist shook his head, patting him again in appreciation, “good that your lady’s here to see it, too, she must be proud.”
“i wish, mate,” he sighed.
“did you not see her?” his ears perked up, and at his confused expression, his bandmate continued, “over at the back, by the bar, i didn’t know what she looked like, but she was asking after you. ‘er story adds up.”
"shit," he mutters, feet solid on the ground. his heart pounds, skeptical of your presence, but chest bursting with hope that it just might be you, "look, bro, i need to–"
"go! go, man, go see her," his bandmate pushes him in the direction of the bar, and he almost stumbles over his own feet to push the stage door open, met with the chaos of the crowded bar.
dark eyes scanning the aimless faces, he searched for anyone who could look like you; his stature brought him above everyone else, only by a little, but gave him an advantage to seek you out.
"sorry, i need to get past," he repeated, over and over to unassuming bodies, setting through the chaos to find his peace. pushing out at the back, a wave of light met him, shining through empty pint glasses and illuminating the bar.
there you were.
standing quietly, head nodding along to the blasting instrumentals, drink in hand; you were heart-stopping. and he was pretty sure his did. even if he’d never seen you face-to-face, he’d memorised the soft plump of your lips, alluring light in your eyes, even the way your hair fell against your skin from the photos he'd seen. there was no doubt it was you, and my god, you were beautiful. he couldn’t even stop his legs if he tried, as they carried him over to you.
"y/n?" his voice barely travelled through the sound waves, but it hit your ear like a familiar embrace.
turning to him, eyes wide and bright in the twinkling of the bar lights. you drunk him in, warm eyes swallowing every part of him. you'd seen pictures, again, but it could never compare to him. dark brown skin, soft to its complexion, hugged his bones in every perfect way; folding at the creases of his handsome face. he was tall, very tall, and the detail of the curves and indents of his muscles, altered by the shadows of the dim bar light, made your head fuzzy. god, he was beautiful – nothing that a digital screen could ever portray with justice.
"hobie," your voice was crisper than he was used to, and he would bottle it if he could, "hey, handsome, you got a–"
"come 'ere," he interrupted, essentially scooping you into his tense embrace, melting into your scent, the feel of you in his arms. his heart was pounding against his chest. you wrapped yourself around him, running your hands along his leather jacket, ghosting the skin below it.
"you interrupted my introduction," you pouted against his shoulder, "had a whole little joke planned and everything, you know."
"go on, hit me, love," he pulled back a tiny bit, his arms still glued around your waist, looking down through his lashes. you faltered under his intense gaze, giddy smile bursting onto your face and you buried your head in his chest.
"nuh uh, not anymore," you shook your head against him, "you ruined it."
his hand came up to touch your face whilst you spoke, following the edge of your hairline and tucking your hair around your shoulder. he was in awe, having you here, having you with him. tightening his embrace, he didn't want to let you go – ever.
"mhmm," his voice vibrated his chest, and you pulled away, "i'm sure it was hilarious, love."
"it really was," you chuckled, giddy in his presence.
the air grew thicker, your laughter dying out and left with just his strong gaze, his dark brown eyes following yours. you could barely comprehend him being here, in front of you, around you, and he was so much more than you had imagined. feeling his calloused hand caress your cheek, you leaned into his touch, inviting him into your world. cupping your face, hobie bought himself to you, leaning down until his pierced lips were ghosting your own. months he'd dreamed of this, imagined how it would feel to kiss his girl, to taste your lips and feel your love. he could feel your breath, and you were about to give in, until you pulled away.
"wait, i–" you swallowed thickly, pulling your touch from him.
"what's up, darlin'?" his eyes scanned your face for any sign of reason, "did i do somethin'?"
"no! no, you," you sighed, "you're perfect, it's not you."
he'd be lying through his teeth if he denied the pit of anxiety building deep in his stomach, bubbling up his throat.
"what is it?"
"i–" you stuttered again, and fought to get your words out of your brain and into the thick air of the bar, "i haven't been telling you the truth."
silence. just for a second. hobie's brain working over time.
"look, if you've got another fella, or somethin', just get it over with–"
"no! no, hobie, i'm yours, i promise," your words settled him for a second.
"my parents don't care about us, they aren't strict, in fact, they were happy when i told them about you," you begun, opening the dam.
"they know about me?" his voice was smaller than you were used to, and if your brain had a spare synapse to process it, you'd probably have melted.
"yes, and i'm sorry i haven't told you," you avoided his eyes, "it's my ex."
"oh, fuckin' 'ell," he sighed, dropping his arms to his side, and he's about to speak, until you interrupt.
"we broke up years ago, but he's never left me alone," you ring your wrists with your hands nervously, and hobie notices – you looked terrified, "i've tried everything; i've tried the police, i've moved countless times, i've changed jobs, made new friends, met new people – he won't leave me be."
tears welled up now, and his heart reached for you, but his arms stayed stuck by his side.
"every guy that i meet, he's, i don't know, calling them telling them i'm someone i'm not, or following them home and slashing tires, or roughing them up outside pubs," paranoia enveloped you, and your eyes darting around the crowd, "i was so scared, because you're the best i've ever had, and probably will ever have, and i don't want him to scare you off."
"y/n–"
"and i understand if this has done exactly what i'm scared of, because i get that keeping it from you was awful, but i was only trying to protect you and–"
his lips cut you off, warm against your own, capturing your words and pushing them back down your throat. hands on your cheeks, body flush against your own, you melted into him completely. it felt like heaven, like months of tension and longing unravelling like ribbon into the wind. it was safe, gentle, like a promise – a promise that it didn't scare him, and that he was yours.
"is he here?" his voice was low, lips hovering yours.
"i-i don't know," you were flustered, your brain trying to make sense of it all, but his hand on the small of your back stopped any cognitive thoughts, "i haven't seen him."
watching him, hobie's dark eyes floated around the crowd, before falling back onto you. smirk on his lips, he placed a quick peck onto your cheek.
"hmm, i hope he enjoyed the show," he chuckled lowly, and you couldn't help but mimic it, relief flooding off your shoulders, "how about we go somewhere a bit safer?"
"like where?" you questioned, intrigued by the coaxing tone of his voice.
"well, i only live around the corner," he shrugged, before offering his hand. blushing, you slipped your hand into his, the soft skin of his fingers pulling you towards him, until he threw his arm around your shoulder.
"nothing could scare me off, you know," he whispered, placing a kiss to your hair, "i'm 'ard as nails."
"oh yeah?" you giggled.
"mhmm."
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clothed eyes glued to the suspicious figure, hobie stood on a rooftop, footsteps silent as he follows the man below. tailing him through the cobbled back lanes of london, hobie's back tingled with apprehension – he'd been following him for at least a mile, waiting for a perfect opportunity.
and he'd finally found it.
pausing his heavy stroll, the man dug into his pockets and pulled out a slightly crushed pack of cigarettes, fumbling further for a lighter. a small orange glow lit up the air around him as he puffed away, smoke fluttering to meet hobie's nose.
silently, hobie swung to a platform below, pulling his guitar tighter against his back and dropped to the hard ground. the sound of his leather boots colliding with the cobble made the man turn in his direction, eyes wide at the sight.
"spiderman?" the man breathed between puffs, voice hoarse, "can i help you?"
"you know what, i think you can," hobie strutted, hands stuffed into his leather jacket, lanky stance towering him, "are you y/n's ex fella?"
"who's asking?" he questioned stupidly, and hobie let out a laugh.
"bruv, who's– are you stupid or somethin'?" hobie punched him lightly in the shoulder, "do you not see the whole get up?"
"the fuck have you got to do with y/n?" he spat, defensive stance taking over his body.
"none of your business," hobie knew that would sting, "but you're gonna leave her alone, fella."
"you don't know what you're talking about."
"i'm not askin', mate," hobie stepped closer, "and i'm not givin' you a choice."
before he could even utter a response, hobie had swung his spike-studded arm in his direction, knuckles colliding against the pathetic man's jaw, knocking him to the ground below.
"tha's my girl you're messin' with now."
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starkidmunson · 5 months
Text
damned if i do (give a damn what people say)
It seems Steve Harrington is back off the market
The latest news on the pop star’s love life comes mere weeks after word of a fallout with longtime beau, journalist Nancy Wheeler. While neither party has confirmed the rumors, many of Harrington’s closest friends have hinted at the end of the relationship in interviews and on social media.
One thing everyone failed to mention, however, is that Harrington appears to have moved on and is now dating Corroded Coffin front-man, Eddie Munson.
The two have been friends for years, tracing as far back as the early 2010s, though it’s difficult to put a pin in exactly when they met. Neither are particularly vocal about their personal lives and often change the subject when the other comes up in an interview; a diversion tactic they’ve been playing for years.
Still, the alleged new couple has been spotted around some of Harrington’s favorite Manhattan hot spots several times over the past week.
The rockstar has a bit of an edgier vibe than Harrington’s usual flings; more outspoken and unpredictable than the ‘type’ Steve has typically shown an interest in; at least publicly.
Only time will tell if “Steddie” (so dubbed by the fans in support of the relationship) is true… and if they’ll last.
_____
“I can’t believe they think I’m dating Eddie,” Steve grumbled into the pillow on the floor of his hotel room. With a huff, he turned his head and looked off to the wall on the far side of the room. “I mean, it’s crazy that I can’t go out to dinner with anyone besides you and not be on a date.”
Robin leveled her foot to the center of his back, before shifting her weight onto it, then grinned in satisfaction as Steve groaned and his back popped loudly in several places. “It’s not like it’s that surprising. The tabloids went feral over you and Nancy breaking up after they were convinced you guys were already secretly married.” She shifted her weight back off him, dropping to sit cross-legged beside Steve. “Plus, it’s not that much of a stretch.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asked, pushing himself up until he was sitting with his back against the wall, leg stretched out against Robin’s.
“It means you two have never looked at each other the way friends do. It makes sense that they’re picking that up.” Robin shrugged, brushing off her comment like it wasn’t shattering part of Steve’s bubble.
“We look at each other totally normally!”
The look Robin leveled Steve with had him pushing himself up off the floor and making his way toward the bathroom.
“I don’t have time for this right now, I need to start getting ready, but we don’t do anything normal friends wouldn’t because that’s what we are, Robin!”
“Are you trying to convince yourself of that, or me?” Robin asked and sighed heavily when Steve slammed the bathroom door closed in response.
It was only about five minutes before there was a familiar knock at the door; three in quick succession, followed by two after a short pause.
“I think we need to talk, sweetheart,” was understandable, despite being muffled by the door, before Steve was racing out of the bathroom to beat Robin to undoing the locks and letting Eddie in. “Why didn’t you tell me we’re dating?” Eddie asked through a pout, leaned against the doorframe.
Steve rolled his eyes and moved out of the way, letting Eddie follow him inside, before pointing at Robin. “See! Very much not dating!”
“Well,” Eddie started, teasingly, only to get hit in the face with a pillow from Steve’s bed. “I’m kidding, Steve. It’s not even a bad thing. I mean, they’re actually being really fucking cool about you being bisexual.”
“Being out as bi doesn’t mean that every person, regardless of their gender, is automatically my love interest just because I breathed near them.” Steve snapped, obviously frustrated despite Eddie’s attempts to ease the situation.
“Hey. Don’t get mean. You know what’s not what Eddie meant.” Robin responded. Steve looked back and forth between the two of them for a long moment, before he collapsed, face first, onto his mattress with a loud groan.
“C’mon, there’s no need to meltdown over this. If you want me to, I can post something about catching up with old friends to try to make it go away.” Eddie offered, gently, sitting down on the opposite side of the bed from Steve.
It took a long beat, but Steve eventually lifted his head from his pillows and shrugged. “I don’t want to make you do anything like that. It’s fine. It’ll all work out in the end. I'm just having a weird day, I guess.”
Eddie raised an eyebrow, and when Steve didn’t elaborate, he turned his head to Robin, who shrugged.
“Nancy texted him this morning asking to not talk about her at shows and he’s been in a sour mood about it since.”
“Robin!” Steve groaned, pressing his face back into his pillow miserably.
“Have you been, though?” Eddie asked, confused. “Talking about her, I mean? I thought I was doing a decent job at getting the highlights and I have no memory of you dropping anything profound about you and Nance on any crowds.”
“Not directly,” Steve spoke into his pillow, before turning his head and staring at the wall as he answered. “I made a few comments about my songs. How to get someone back. How to gaslight someone into thinking you love them before letting everything go at the drop of a hat for one of your best friends.”
A silence settled over the room for a moment, before Eddie burst into giggles, which set Robin off. Eventually Steve joined in, turning his attention to the two of them with a heavy sigh.
“I guess I was an asshole about it, huh?”
“I think it’s justifiable.” Eddie offered, to which Robin nodded in agreement as she started toying with Steve’s hair. “If you feel like you’re going to say something about Nancy, you could always say something to me instead. Really confuse the shit out of everyone.” He teased, but Steve beamed.
“Wait, that’s actually a great idea.”
Robin looked apprehensive, holding her hands in the air. “Steve, you remember you just freaked out about this, right? And now you’re going to play into it? Publicly?”
“It’ll be fun. I’m not gonna say anything directly about Eddie. But just. References. And then we can watch the fans lose their shit on TikTok later.” Steve reasoned with a grin, and Eddie smiled back at him.
“I promise to spend the entire show dancing my ass off and singing along. For the bit.” Eddie said, his hand over his heart.
“You do that anyway, you’re just usually backstage.” Robin pointed out, and Eddie rolled his eyes.
“Well, obviously, I have to join you and Dustin in the family tent tonight. Duh.”
“Yes!” Steve agreed with a laugh. “This is going to be so much fun!”
“You’re both psychotic.”
_____
“Indianapolis, you're making me feel awfully special tonight.” Steve bit at his lip as he looked around Lucas Oil Stadium to thousands of people screaming back at him. “This is as close to a hometown show as I really get these days, so thank you for always making sure to remind me how special of a place home is.”
The music started to pick up again, but Steve kept talking. “I kind of spent the last few years coasting by without anyone paying too much attention, but now that I’m back on the road, everyone’s suddenly deeply invested in my life, and it's strange to be back so close to somewhere I called home for so long, in the same position I was in five years ago.” He ran his fingers through his hair, before huffing out a laugh.
“But you guys, you've always been there. Unwavering in a way I will never be able to express my gratitude for.” he paused to glance around the crowd again, grinning as they cheered. “Not many people can say the same, you know?”
“Where is he going with this?” Dustin asked, leaning close to Robin, who shrugged, trying not to have a visible reaction. There were always cameras on them in public like this. Any reaction would be taken out of context and exaggerated.
“Did you see the tabloid rumors about Eddie and Steve?” She replied, and couldn’t help but smile as Dustin’s head whipped back forward to Steve.
“I mean, there’s Robbie, the kids I used to babysit. And, uh…” he trailed off, which Eddie took as his cue to move to the front of the family tent. “Maybe someone else. This one's for you.” Steve said, leaving the “you” ambiguous enough to be open for interpretation.
Eddie, hamming it up, made a heart with his hands, before immediately starting to headbang along to the love song next in the setlist.
_____
In a surprising twist, Dustin managed to wait until the security team had moved them out of the crowd and behind the stage with the crew nearly two hours later before his outburst.
“What the fuck?!” He asked as soon as the were away from the crowd. “Why are you two playing into this? It’s just going to get more headlines and attention on the two of you, which neither of you usually like!”
“But it’s different if it’s on our terms.” Eddie responded, not even looking up from his phone as he answered Dustin.
“Is it, though? Is it really on your terms if it’s not even true?” Dustin sounded exasperated, and while Robin could relate, she was planning on sitting this one out until Eddie shoved his phone into her face.
“It’s already on TikTok. 4 videos in.” He said with a grin as Robin watched Eddie make a hand heart toward the stage before his hair started flopping all over as he sang along. The clip was captioned “steddie is real!!!”
“So you’re proud you’re deceiving fans?” She asked, which made Eddie’s grin fall.
“Don't be so dramatic,” Steve called as he approached from the stage exit. He was covered in sweat and still in his performance clothes, holding a half empty water bottle. “It’s all in good fun. They never need to know if it was real or not.”
“I think you’re downplaying this by a lot. What happens the next time one of you is seen out on a date?” Dustin pressed, and continued despite the way Steve rolled his eyes. “I mean it, an honest to god date. People are going to lose their minds, trying to figure out what broke up Steve and Eddie, when you were never even together in the first place! They’ll turn you against each other, they always do. And if you weren’t dating, isn’t that just as bad of a look?”
“Woah. Henderson. Chill. It’ll be fine, man. You’re WAY overthinking this.” Eddie said, before he grinned at Steve. “Could you see my hand heart from the stage?”
“I could. Did you catch the wink I sent your way at the end of the song?”
“I did, nice touch! I patted my hand over my heart, so maybe that’ll end up on social, too.”
“I’m going to throw myself into the White River.” Dustin groans loudly, to a round of laughs and elbow nudges.
_____
Steve could pinpoint the exact moment things finally felt out of hand two weeks later.
He was getting ready for the show that will wrap up his first weekend at his “home away from home” in 5 years when Eddie texted him about being late to that night’s show.
It shouldn’t have mattered.
Eddie had missed the last two shows in Chicago
It shouldn’t matter.
Eddie’d been there, religiously, at the 4 shows before Chicago on the tour, and 6 others before that when his band wasn’t playing their own concerts. Steve even made 3 trips of his own to Corroded Coffin shows, around his own obligations.
But it still made him frown at his phone for a moment too long. Long enough Robin caught him.
“More headlines about Steddie?” She asked, slipping the phone from his hands before he could stop her. When she read over the message, though, her expression softened. “Oh, Steve, I’m sorry.”
“It’s no big deal.” Steve rushed out, snatching his phone back and shoving it into his pocket. “It’s fine. I’m not upset, there’s no reason to feel sorry. Besides, he just said he’ll be late, he didn’t say he isn’t coming.”
“Would you be upset if he wasn’t coming, then?” Robin asked. Steve glared daggers at her, and sighed when she held her hands in the air, feigning innocence.
“I don’t know.” He mumbled, honestly.
___
The intro tape was just about to start as Steve was making his usual trek toward his starting point, when he heard someone running and calling his name from behind him, rather than out in the crowd. He paused and turned, to see Eddie rushing toward him.
“I’m so sorry, I just wanted you to see that I made it before you went on!” He was out of breath, his hair more wild from running than usual, and Steve…
Well, frankly, Steve was tired of pretending like Eddie wasn’t the hottest person he’d ever seen.
So Steve met Eddie halfway, threw his arms around his neck and pressed their lips together in a move Eddie seemed to have anticipated because he wasted no time returning the favor.
It was only Steve’s cue music that had him breaking away, biting at his lip and grinning at Eddie, who grinned back at him, before using the hands he’d placed on Steve’s waist at some point in the interaction to turn Steve toward the stage.
“Go, before you miss the start of your own show, superstar. I’ll still be here after.” Eddie said.
“Promise?” Steve called over his shoulder as he made his way toward the stage’s catwalk.
“Cross my heart, big boy.” Eddie drew an x over his heart for dramatic effect, then laughed and ran his fingers through his hair as he watched Steve run to make it to his place on time.
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simpjaes · 1 year
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SIMP
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SUMMARY: men are liars. especially, jake sim, some guy you met once at a party and now only know through text messages. he makes promises he can’t keep but it’s mostly because he likes to hide that he’s more desperate than you are to get his dick wet. 
jake sim x afab reader 
MDNI!
WC: 5.6k
GENRE: smut, kinda subby!jake
TAGS: desperate jake, he’s experienced with sex just really bad at not being pussy drunk, reader has fun anyway and pokes fun at how he talked big game and couldn’t live up to it.
A/N:  i know, i know. i’m supposed to be writing a different jake fic but this happened.  this is a gift for my other monster cock loser jake lovers. not proof read
NSFW TAGS: he is packing a huge cock, nipple play, finger fucking, pussy eating, he gets compared to a dog/puppy a few times, dirty talk, jake gets desperate enough mid-way though and does fuck her really good, unprotected sex, cream pie, lots and lots and lots of cum.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Six times the man known as Jake Sim rendered you sore the next morning using nothing but pixel words on your phone screen. Six times over the span of two weeks. 
You met him at a party, and he was both the first and the last man you spoke to that night. You should have caught on back then why he didn’t bring you home with him and only offered you his number with a wink and a shit-eating grin. 
Now, as you see him in front of you again, this time in your apartment, you can see exactly why he didn’t bring you home. His facade would have been broken and you never would have been able to see the dirty little texts he’s able to send when he doesn’t have you looking him in the eye.
“Didn’t you say you were going to have me against every surface in my apartment the second you get here?” You question, twenty minutes into him being over and not once making a move on you. 
He looks much more awkward compared to the tipsy man you originally met, still his dyed blond hair looks just as messy though. His fashion is still on par with the attitude you’d seen him throw at you too but,  this version of him is throwing you for a loop. His lack of response leads you to believe that he must have lost interest in the span of time he’s been over.
“It’s not like I don’t want to,” Jake finally responds, brushing his fingers through his hair as he sits stiffly next to you on your bed, fully clothed. “Usually I don’t actually come see the girls I text.”
You shuffle next to him, turning with an eyebrow raised at him. 
“So you’re not going to, then?” 
Jake looks at you dumbfounded, shaking his head as if to pity himself before nodding quickly.
“I’d like to,” he argues, fiddling with his hands and avoiding your eyes now. “I just, um…”
You wait, allowing the silence to take hold of the room. 
“I’m a little more uh–” He fidgets and fumbles his words again. “Listen, I don’t want to disappoint you if I don’t live up to how we normally talk.”
“What do you mean by that?” You ask, feeling duped by the man sitting there. 
“I’m actually kind of like–” He lets out a deep sigh before turning toward you with honest eyes. “You’re making me shy, okay?” 
You breathe in, shocked because based on the strings upon strings of sentences he’s thrown your way via text, the last thing you’d ever consider Jake is fucking shy. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
He was right in telling you he was shy, and by now you appreciate the warning from him. It took a few minutes to get yourself back into the mood, but it happened nonetheless when he finally buckled under your gaze and kissed you.
If there was anything Jake did that he promised, it was kissing you in a way you never knew you needed. He was good at it too, so good that you nearly forgot he was supposed to have already fucked you on every surface the two of you passed to get to the very room you’re in right now. 
Kind of strange actually, that he seems so different compared to his fantasies with girls he never thinks he will actually see again. So cocky in his text messages, saying he will ruin you, asking if you’d choke on his dick, saying he would love to see you struggle under him. Now though, that very man is struggling to keep his hands to himself despite admitting that he’s shy.
You chuckle into the kiss, feeling his hands reach for you with the sound of rustling clothing against your duvet. You let him chase as you slide lower, lower, lower, until your head is against your pillow and he’s practically hovering over you to keep kissing.
This is what you wanted. Jake over you, dominating a kiss and roaming his hands up and down your body. 
“Shy?” You question between kisses, trailing your hand down to meet where his was, snaking under your shirt. “You seem to know exactly what you want.”
Jake’s eyes are empty as he looks at you, the cold feeling of his fingertips do not stop though. He continues to trail them upward until they meet the flesh of your chest, where you skipped the bra because you expected it to be a nuisance if anything tonight. 
You’re shocked by his slight groan at the feeling of your already erect nipples. His groan seemed like it came out of relief, your body showing signs of being turned on despite his reluctance that was never promised to you. 
“If you were like this over text, I still would have liked you, you know.”  You admit to him with a sigh as he trails his lips down to your jaw, and you reach for his waist to pull him further on top of you. “You’re cute still, even if you’re not about to make me cry like you said you would.”
His cock twitches at that, wishing so much that he could live up to those dirty thoughts in his head and just fucking do it. But he can’t, because his body doesn’t work like that. If he were to do all of those things to you right now, he would surely come within the span of fifteen seconds and make this the worst fuck of your life. He’s too desperate to have control, and far too timid to even pull his cock out right now. 
“It’s embarrassing,” he whispers against your earlobe, trailing kisses there too until he gets to the collar of your shirt. “I want to do those things to you, but I don’t think I’d be able to last if–”
He’s cut off by you shoving him up and pulling your shirt off in one go, trying to get to business much quicker now that he appears to at least be turned on. (Wrong, he’s been turned on since before he even got here.)
Jake trails off his sentence, forgetting what he was even going to say as the flesh of your breast sits comfortably in one of his hands and the other springs free. His cock twitches again as he stares, practically burning a hole through you as he looks, mouth slowly opening in a sigh at the image.
You see him malfunction and wonder if maybe, maybe, this could be even better than what you originally were expecting. Such a rough looking man with messy hair and even rougher fingers acting like this at the mere sight of some titties? Sign you the fuck up.
“God, look at you.” You groan with a smile, chuckling at the way he appears to blush. “You talk such big game but…”
“Yeah, yeah.” Jake shakes it off, releasing his hand from your chest and now removing his own shirt and revealing a nice, toned body for you to look at. “It’s not my fault you make me act this way.”
“Oh? Just me, or?”
Jake nods, then shakes his head. 
“Not entirely, I’m just better at fucking over text.” He explains, now settling one leg between yours and dipping his head down to your chest, nuzzling against one of your tits and grabbing the other. “Doesn’t change the fact that I still want to fuck you right now though.”
You feel those words run through you, his soft voice coming out raspy and needy when he says it. 
“You’re a weird one,” You laugh, gripping his hair and bucking your hips up to straddle his thigh. “and I still want you fuck me, even if it’s not the way you said you would.” 
He licks against your chest now, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth as he focuses on the feeling of you riding against his thigh. He’s thankful you still act desperate, at least you weren’t lying when you talked to him through texts.
“I’ll still make you feel good.” He whispers in a slight plea against your nipple, moving his head to the other and suckling against that one next. “Just let me try.”
God, you didn’t expect those four little words to hit you the way they do. A man asking you to let him try? Jake Sim at that? Sure, by now it should be expected but this is a different kind of heat flowing through you. Never have you been given control, and never have you felt the need to ride a man’s thigh like this. 
“Jake,” You start, a little out of breath as you move your hips against him to the point that clothing becomes far more annoying than not. “Can we please take our clothes off before anything else?”
He pauses against your nipple, nodding before suckling again and then finally pulling away.
“You first.” He says, not yet wanting to pull his thigh from the way you move against it. 
You look up at him, his lips glistening from his own saliva coating your chest.
“Why? Are you lying about your massive cock too?”
Jake looks down at the bulge between his legs and then back at you. Your eyes followed him to his cock, and they remained there.
“Oh.” You smile, now having the ability to pull yourself from his thigh and pull your shorts off at record speed. “Show me.”
Jake lets out a breathy and nervous chuckle, his ears flashing a darker shade of red than before as he nods to you in a timid way. You watch his hands go for the button and zipper, and you watch them further as they lower his pants to his knees before he kicks them away behind him. Now, all that’s left is looking at the already dampened spot on his briefs and the huge length stuffed beneath, clearly needing some relief. 
He still looks away from you, not yet moving to take off his briefs until you feel his hands pull at your panties. 
“Can I see now too?” He asks, already pulling them to the side and catching a glimpse of your folds. He shudders visibly at it before letting your panties snap back into place and all you can do is stare, still, between his legs.
“Take them off.” You deadpan.
He’s unsure if you’re implying he take his off, or yours, so he shoots for what he would prefer, gripping your panties and rolling them off of you. 
“Take. them. off.” You say, ignoring the fact that you’re entirely vulnerable before him, yet feel safe and comfortable because of how timid yet eager he appears to be. 
He fumbles to follow your direction, quickly kicking off his briefs and positioning himself between your legs again, sitting on his knees. 
Your eyes don’t leave his exposed cock. Thick and heavy. He truly wasn’t lying about that at least, and you can imagine that regardless of how shy he is, he definitely could make good on his word with a cock like that.
“Oh, fuck.” You comment, lifting on your elbows and sitting up. Your face is now mere inches from his, but your eyes continue to stare down. 
He puts a hand over himself shyly, wondering if maybe you’re not impressed, maybe he’s a complete fraud. 
“Are you disappointed?” He asks, leaning a bit back and away from you.
“Disappointed?” You laugh, looking back up at him and instantly grabbing his face, staring directly into his eyes. “Jake, you’re bigger than what you described it as.”
He smiles a bit, feeling all fuzzy and warm inside as you look at him. His confidence bubbles up, giving him every ability in the world at this moment, and what does he do with it? He looks between the two of you as he drops his cock and watches it land between your legs, and then he looks back at you before dipping in for a much less timid kiss.
Feeling his cock rest between your legs is one thing, but feeling how his tongue kisses into your mouth at a more eager pace than before is an entirely different thing. You’re loving it, despite the turn of events with him. 
“Not so shy now, hm?” You laugh, tilting your head before dipping back in to kiss him only to be met with a sigh of chuckles from him. 
“If you keep complimenting me, maybe someday I can live up to all those promises,” He says, putting a hand at the nape of your neck and laying you back down. “Then again, I don’t expect to last nearly as long with how wet you seem to have gotten.”
You hum against his words, hands reaching between your body and his to grab his length and hold it, just to feel the weight, just to see how much of it you can fit into one hand…just to see if–
He groans at the first touch, his body shivering against yours as he trails his lips down again, landing against your neck with a small pant when his hips buck into your palm. 
“I can’t believe that this whole time, this is how you react to having your dick touched.”
He says nothing and instead, continues to fall into the feeling of the short tugs against his cock, barely stimulating his entire length but still feeling like it’s enough to keep him pleased for the time being. 
“Wanna, maybe, I don’t know–” You playfully start, tugging his cock a bit harder this time after collecting some of the pre-cum from the head, “Touch me too?”
Say no more, Jake’s fingers are instantly at your entrance as soon as you say it, sliding in so easily that it nearly makes you forget that you even told him to do it. His fingers are slender, and each joint on the digits are felt against your aching and gripping walls. 
“I can’t believe how wet you are,” he coos, bottoming his two fingers out before gently beginning to thrust them in. “Were you like this when we texted too?”
“Wetter.” You lie, mostly because you were extremely wet from his texts but this…this is entirely different. You’re far more wet. 
“Oh?” Jake asks, looking slightly disappointed but you can feel the way he changes how he moves his fingers. He also stops rutting against your hand, as if to put all of his focus on making you as wet as possible. 
You moan for him at the feeling, his fingers tickling a spot inside of you that always has you seeing stars. Part of you wonders if he even knows he’s doing it, but you don’t press him, instead, you reward him with a tighter grip, pumping his cock until you can feel more beads of pre-cum slathering your fingertips. 
“You need to be more confident, fuck–” You call out in a half moan, unprepared for the Jake that showed up but completely prepared to praise the hell out of what he’s doing. “This alone could have anyone on their knees.”
He smiles, furrowing his brow as he looks up at you, fingers picking up pace and starting to scissor you open. 
“Can I taste you?” He asks out of fucking nowhere, and god. 
“Jesus, Yes.” You groan, feeling him pound his fingers into you three more times before sliding out and pulling away from you. 
You close your eyes, anticipating what it must be like to have him eat your pussy, and fuck, he wasn’t lying about that either. You remember that text from him, when he said “i’ll lick up every inch of your pussy babe, you wouldn’t even have to ask.”
The fact that you didn’t ask him to do it. The fact that he’s down there right now, already spreading you open on his tongue and licking every sensitive dip and corner he can reach. You’re just more and more pleased with this shy man that showed up on your doorstep. 
His tongue is warm and firm no matter where he licks, and only softens up when he goes to lick a flat stripe up your slit, essentially sucking up all of the wet you’re offering him and savoring it through whimpered groans at the way your legs attempt to squeeze around his head.
He knew you’d taste good but this is on a whole other level. He can’t help it when he grips your thighs and spreads your legs out further, and he certainly can’t help himself when he prods his tongue into you, trying to taste more of what you have to offer. 
You can feel his tongue dipping in, and the way he grips your thighs renders you nearly useless if you were to try and wiggle away, not that you’d ever want to but it almost tickles with how good it feels. Your legs begin to shake in his grasp, and he only spreads them further at that, tilting his head at an angle to lick into you even deeper.
“Holy shit,” You sigh out, reaching down frantically to hold his head in place so that you can grind your hips forward against his stiffened tongue. 
He’s nearly going insane the moment you do that, riding his tongue and gripping his hair so harshly. If he could die like this, it would only be a dream. 
Jake hums into you with his lips curling up at each drag of your hips, each taste of your walls, up until you’re grinding so aggressively that his tongue is back to hitting your clit for a split second before dipping in. He lets you do it, loving the way you use his face like a toy but, he’s starting to feel desperate for you. 
In this position with his arms hugging your thighs and back arched as he dips down to lick you, his cock is fucking aching and all he can do is fuck forward. There is nothing for him to pleasure himself with, but this suffices for him as the act of humping forward alone is enough to satiate his intense need to fuck something right now. 
Like a dog, humping just to release his intense arousal as he holds onto you. He should be embarrassed, but he knows you can’t see him do it. Especially when he flicks his eyes up and sees your tits jiggling with each move of your hips. Especially when you open your own eyes and they land only on his face. He’d like to think he’s doing a hell of a job right now, especially with how no matter how much he licks, you continue to drip for him. 
As you continue to ride yourself against his face, you suddenly feel his fingers squeezing against your thighs and his head abandon where you guide him. Wanting to taste you still, he neglects your riding hips and plants his lips at your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue until your grip in his hair grows more and more painful and you pull him back to look at him.
His eyes are dazed and his lips are glistening in a swollen and cheeky little smile. He stares back at you, licking his puffy bottom lip before letting his eyes roll at the feeling of that grip you have in your hair.
“Fuck, you’re loving this aren’t you?” You ask, now trailing your eyes down to his body and noting the way he’s desperately chasing nothing with his cock. You know he wants it, and god, are you going to let him have it. 
He grins when you ask him, and he nods proudly at how your arousal coats his mouth and chin. He can smell the entirety of you on his face and it truly does feel amazing to him. Like he’s spiraling into a world of bliss simply for getting to lick your pussy. 
You can barely contain yourself as you watch him. It’s like you’ve lost him completely from reality with the way he’s smiling, and the way his eyes remain drowsy and hooded. You could argue that the man acts cross-faded, but the fact that he acts like this over your pussy? 
“I bet if I asked you to fuck me right now, you’d beg like a little puppy, wouldn’t you?” 
His groan is long and drawn out with his slow nod, his hips fucking forward instinctively when his eyes trail down and sees that your pussy is practically pulsing. 
“Do you want me to beg?” He says in a shaky voice, his chest heaving as his grip on your thighs grow tighter and you drag him back up to your face. 
There, the two of you look at each other for a brief moment before you feel him fuck forward again, sliding his cock against your drenched core and letting out another pained whimper.
“You’re so wet, please.” He cries against your lips as he drops his face lower. 
Your arms shoot around him, feeling his back muscles tense with each intentional thrust against you. The weight of his cock is sliding consistently up and down your pussy, bumping your clit and overstimulating it to the point that all you’d need to do is tense your muscles and you’d be releasing. 
He said please, and you can argue that he’d probably do a flip if you so much as asked him to right now. As much as you wanted to choke on his dick, at this point you’d rather feel what it’s like to have him losing control inside of you. You want to know how he uses it, and you’re already well aware that he very well may make you lose grasp on reality. 
Even now, you can feel his slack lips moving up and down against your own as he continues to hump against you. You can feel his breath on your tongue when you try to see if he’s too lost to even kiss you. And that, he was.
“Go on,” You encourage him, running one hand down his arm and the other up to his hair to grip it again. There, you pull his head back, watching his neck crane and eyebrows furrow in a wince at the feeling. “Fuck me then.”
His unintentional moan comes out strained with the way you have his head pulled back, but he moves one arm to one side of your head and the other straight to his cock, where all he needs to do is press it down and hold it there. As he continues fucking against you, that small motion lets him slide in with ease. 
You can feel his arm beside your head shake at the feeling of his length spreading you open. You can see the way he swallows thickly at the feeling, moaning out and staring at your ceiling as he feels your walls slowly hug his entire length. 
He enters you slowly so that he can feel his sock squeeze your wet out of you, feeling it run down his balls. He shivers at the feeling and the sound of it, and you shiver at how deep he manages to slide in. 
It’s so deep. His thick cock aches inside of you and with the way your walls squeeze him, and even when he tightly fucks forward once again once he’s already bottomed out, he manages to fill you just just that much more. 
You groan out, releasing his hair from your shaking fingers and feeling his lips immediately kiss against your jaw and neck. 
“Fuck, fuck.” He whimpers, relieving you of an inch of him before sliding back in slowly. “Fuck, you feel so tight.” He continues, moving a hand down to your thigh and swirling his fingertips there to try and calm your shaking legs.
You can’t really comprehend anything other than the fact that this man is so fucking hot, and the way he slowly moves his hips just to feel each and every clench of your pussy has you seeing stars. You feel like he’s filled you up beyond belief, and each thrust somehow makes his cock feel heavier, bigger. 
Even as he babbles against your neck, his other hand falls to your tit and he can’t help but mindlessly play with it as he begins to actually fall into a rhythm. You’re still rendered completely speechless as you focus on every single touch he gives to you.
Those gentle, soothing circles of his fingertips on your leg, the other hand harshly pinching your nipple and sending a sharp pain down your body, his cock being driven in, somehow, deeper and deeper as he continuously manages to hit your g-spot and– god, the way his lips slowly trail down to your other tit, biting you there.
“So tight, so good.” He babbles on, slamming his cock into you once before lifting from your breast to see your reaction. 
When he looks up at you, a permanent shit-eating grin is planted on his face with the way you roll your eyes back in a silent moan. Perhaps he wasn’t so much of a liar in those texts. Seeing you react this way has his confidence skyrocketing as he continues to keep that pace. The sound of your pussy being pounded and dripping all over him. He can’t even believe how wet you are, how tight you are still.
He stays like this, staring at each reaction and silent moan as he focuses solely on fucking you as hard and deep as possible. He may not be fast, but he’s making sure you can feel every goddamn inch he has to offer, and it appears that you’re relishing in it. 
Those silent moans you try to release always end in a small hiccup each time his hips meet your inner thighs, and it’s not long before you’re losing grasp all together. You shoot your hands to his arms, gripping his biceps as your only link to reality as you feel him continuously bump the back of your pussy in an immaculate show of how well he knows how to fuck.
“Jake,” You hiccup out, gripping his biceps harder as you clench around him. 
Still, his cock drags through your attempts of speaking, and he continues to stare at you with a grin before hovering his lips over yours.
“What is it?” He whispers in a shaky breath, sucking in his bottom lip and only now picking up the pace so that he can render you speechless again. 
You can feel his lips ghosting over yours, and you really thought you had something to say but the only thing that comes out is a sobbed out moan. You throw your legs around his waist now, moving your own hips to meet his and that alone has him spiraling again.
“Yeah,” He chuckles, dipping his head to your neck and resting it there, “Fuck me,” he whimpers this time, stilling his hips to feel the way you slide him in and out of you.
Still, your strength amazes him. He thought he had control for a few minutes there and yet here he is, acting much like you are with his trembling hands and trembling thoughts. 
You continue to work your hips from under him, and you don’t even know when he stopped playing with your nipple but it doesn’t entirely matter. Not now, not when you need more of him. 
He’s thrown off when you grab his hair again, and he still loves it as much as he did the first two times you did it to him. Then, he can hear your raspy voice whisper out to him as you drag his face, once again, to yours.
“Lay back.” 
That’s all you had to say to have him immediately listening and maneuvering his body in a way that keeps his cock buried deep but still managing to throw himself back on the bed for you to take full control.
Now, he looks up at you and the way your darkened eyes devour him. He’s so fucking turned on right now that he thinks he might cry, especially with the way your knees hug his hips as you immediately start fucking yourself on him.
He’s in awe, hands reaching behind you to grab at your ass and spread it as you bounce on him. Each time you sit yourself down, it’s like you’re being impaled in the most pleasurable way possible. The way he keeps eye contact with you is intense and dangerously intimate, but you can’t bring yourself to look away either.
That smile forms back on his lips as you pick up your pace, and through that smile are moans so erotic you can feel your pussy drench him over and over again each time he does it. Never, have you had sex so fucking good in your life and it’s making you feel almost helpless as you work yourself up to an orgasm.
He still watches you though, before flicking his eyes down and taking in the image of your bouncing tits. He’s quick to remove his hands from your ass to fondle them before sitting himself up aggressively and sucking one into his mouth.
You moan out at that, stilling your bouncing as you opt now to sit with his cock entirely inside of you. You swirl your hips and plant your fingers in his hair, hugging his head as he sucks and bites a swollen spot against your chest before he holds you in an even tighter hug. 
“I’m so, so close.” He says in a broken sigh, trying to move his hips up under your weight and failing to do it.  You listen to his cries though, and resume your bouncing even through his harsh and suffocating hug. 
“Yeah?” You ask, bouncing once, swirling your hips, and then pressing your weight on him to have him falling back into his rightful spot against your bed. 
His grip around you remains, dragging you down with him as he breathes himself through the pleasure and babbles out strings of curses when you manage to still work your hips on him even though he’s gripping onto you for dear life. 
“Gonna let me feel it?” You ask again, this time more playfully as you intentionally press your clit against his pelvis each time you slide him into you. 
He nods brokenly, squeezing his eyes shut and loosening his grip on you, letting you break free and ultimately, intentionally fuck him until he’s pumping you full of everything he has to offer.
You watch as he lies there, seemingly lost again in the bliss of your pussy clenching around him. He barely notices your fingers circling your clit, and is shocked to realize that you’re releasing before him, despite how close he is.
He can feel your walls massage his aching cock as you begin to let out strained moans. He knows you’re coming the second he feels how tight you’re clenching, sucking his cock so deeply inside of you that he has no choice but to release. 
He fucks into you as best he can at this moment, only stopping when he feels the first release inside of you, and there, he tenses his muscles and allows his stiffened length to nearly tear you in half as you continue to work through your own pleasure. 
You can barely open your eyes to see his face, and the way his jaw is slack and his eyes are very nearly crossing before squeezing them shut. God, that alone could have made your orgasm last another ten seconds.
By the time you’re done, he’s still releasing somehow. The sheer amount of cum he’s spilling into you is arguably more than you’ve ever felt, and he trembles through it with whimpered apologies, begging you to stay on him, apologizing with a small “ fuck, wait, I’m still coming–”
And you do, especially through his shaking whisper of “please, take all of it.” 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
He’s back to his timid self just an hour later, lying on your bed wondering when you’re going to tell him to leave. Wondering if you like him enough to let him do this again with you, hoping you don’t erase his number. 
He’s pleased to know though that, you not only ask him to sleep over but you also make it your mission to go down on him the moment he wakes up next to you. Reminding him that even if he was different upon coming over, he still fucked you better than he ever promised. 
You’d be stupid not to choke on it for him. 
3K notes · View notes
cupcakeinat0r · 2 months
Text
A Nerdy Middle-aged loser Miguel with a dad bod who teaches your genetics class
pt. 4
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After seeing you flirt with that other student, Miguel went back home to his penthouse with a mixture of emotions.
First, he felt angry, and on multiple occasions. For starters, he was upset to see you smile for someone else. He wanted to make you smile like that.
Then he got even more mad that he's mad about that. It was so childish. There shouldn’t be anything between you guys anyway. Buying you things and hugging you and giving you pet names and head messages was already pushing it to the very edge.
Then he was confused. Miguel was starting to think maybe you liked him in that way, too. Was it all just platonic to you? Was it the way he looked? Did he do something wrong?
His heart drops at the thought that maybe he made you feel uncomfortable, or worse, unsafe. Feelings of concern cloud his mind making him toss and turn in bed.
This thought alone was more than enough proof to him that he needs to start treating you like what you are: his student.
<3
That next morning, y’all had class. You scurried in at your usual 2-5 min late mark, Miguel’s eyes reluctantly following you. You sat down and smiled at him, but you weren’t met with your usual sweet, adorable professor's smile. Instead, you just get a surly glare before he starts the lesson.
The whole lecture, Miguel is using every fiber of his being to not look over at you, because he knows that if he does, he’ll fall for you all over again.
When you ask him for help, he doesn’t get as close as he used to, keeping his manly musk away from you.
When you raise your hand to answer a question, you’re not his first pick.
When you leave little treats for him on his desk, he doesn't even touch them or acknowledge them.
And when you leave class and say “Bye, Professor O’Hara! Thank you for class today!”, there’s no more “ Thank you, Mama.” No “Sweetheart”. Not even “hun”. Just “bye”.
It would be like this for about a week, treating you the way he treats the rest of his students. Miguel’s heart was breaking, but this was for the best. For the both of you. You could get anyone you wanted, and he shouldn’t put his job on the line. Besides, you seemed to be very happy with this new guy. Miguel truly believed that he didn’t deserve you anyway.
You were so confused. It was like two different people. Like night and day. You wanted answers. Luckily, y’alls tutoring session was coming up.
You knocked on his office door to be met with an indifferent man. He opens the door with no greeting, completely dismissing you as he lets you in. No gift in sight, though you were expecting that given his drastic change in behavior.
You set your bag down and sit at your seat, Miguel giving you a paper filled with practice formulas for the final. Without even looking at you, he sits at his desk and does something he never did: tend to his own work.
“Just let me know if you have any questions. Otherwise, finish those formulas and you’re good for the day.” He doesn’t even look at you when saying this, his words slightly muffled as he spoke into his hand.
Everything felt so off, it was making you want to cry.
“Professor O’Hara… are you okay?” There’s genuine concern in your voice, but his gaze doesn’t leave his paper.
“I’m fine. The formulas, please.” This is the driest you’ve ever seen him.
“You-you sure?” All you get is a tired sigh from him before he, without lifting his gaze still, uses his pointer finger to tap on the paper before you.
Not wanting to anger him, you start the practice. It’s dead silent in the office. The air feels stale. Did the lights in here always feel this clinical?
“There. I’m Finished. May you check them, please?” You ask softly, still hopeful that he’ll somehow be normal again, only to be disappointed again.
He finally peels his eyes from his own work and onto yours, his eyes quickly skimming through your paper.
“Good. You can go now.” He mutters in a monotone voice, and back to his papers he goes.
“Professor O’Hara… are you sure you’re okay, you seem… off.” You ask one last time.
“Like I said, I’m fine. It’s none of your concern, anyway. See you tomorrow for class, and don’t be late.” The venom in his voice makes you wince. You could cry right here right now.
“Did… I do something wrong?” You feel a ball form in your throat. It's when he hears your voice crack when he finally lifts his head and looks at you for the first time in a while.
Sitting in front of him just across the desk is his one weakness. He sees worry, sadness, and confusion on your face, immediately wanting to get up from his seat to take you in his arms and tell you that you can do no wrong and that you’re perfect. All he wants to do is comfort you in this moment, but he can’t do it in the way he wants to. He promised himself he'd distance himself. Partially to save his job but more so that he would prevent heartbreak.
The welling in your eyes only makes it 10x harder.
“Mama-“ the pet name slips and he instantly catches himself. He takes it back by substituting it for something more professional: your first name.
“… of course you didn’t do anything wrong. Everything is fine.” Miguel struggles to maintain his stoic front, but nonetheless still manages to keep it up, making sure you don’t know his true desire.
“Things are not fine.” You snap back. This makes Miguel look up at you from the papers in his hands.
“You don’t say hi to me when I come to class, you don’t look at me during lectures, in fact, you never look at me even when I’m talking to you, and now you’ve started calling me by my actual name… something’s wrong, so please, tell me.” You plead, inching closer to his desk.
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m your professor. Besides,” he looks down at his paper again since looking at your pout was becoming unbearable, “I’m sure you’d prefer attention from someone else.” He adds, but this time, there’s actual emotion behind those words. Up until now, he has been incredibly bland, but that last statement was lined with something… like jealousy.
You started thinking. You began to connect the dots.
The only thing that had changed in the past few days was the new transfer in the class.
You had gotten along with him very well, even sitting next to each other every class and leaving together.
It clicked.
“Professor O’Hara… I’d say you’re jealous.” Your pout grew into a cheeky smile, seeing right through Miguel now.
His eyes widen, shooting you an appalled look.
“Well, I’d say you’re sadly mistaken. That’s a ridiculous accusation.” You knew you won when he got defensive. He tries to play it off by retreating to his paper again, but it’s pretty evident you stroke a nerve. His fist clenched around the poor ink pen in his hand.
“Oh my God… you’re totally jealous.” You’re completely smiling now, holding back a giggle since you didn’t want to ridicule Miguel to his face. But you had to admit, it was cute.
“And who could I possibly be jealous of, hm? Enlighten me.” He looks up at you through his glasses, the fine line along his brow creasing as he raises it.
“Well, the transfer, of course! How did I not realize!” You allow a chuckle to slip as you confront Miguel.
Miguel responds with silence, cowering back to ungraded papers.
“Awwwww, Professor O’Hara… he’s gay.”
You laugh as you say this. Miguel stops writing to look at you again, his gaze finally softening with small glints of hope.
“… he is?” He asks softly, his hard facade thrown away at last. There he is. There’s that big, soft, kind loser you knew.
“Yes! He’s as straight as a circle!” You chuckle some more. Miguel furrows his brows as he tries to make sense of the situation.
“But you two are always so… touchy. I just assumed that… ” You roll your eyes at Miguel’s oblivion. He’s so cute.
“Oh my goodness, that’s normal! He’s like one of the girls! We're just best friends.” Miguel’s shoulders seem to relax as he sits in relief. His lips begin to curl. He’s not sure if he’s smiling because now he knows you aren’t interested in that guy or because he’s making you smile and laugh.
“Well then, that’s- that’s good to know, mama… because, you know,” he clears his throat, “I wouldn’t want anyone to bother you, is all.” He lies. He looks back down at his paper to hide his growing smile. He shouldn’t be this happy about a student’s lack of a romantic interest.
You break into a fit of giggles at it all, shaking your head as you make your way around his desk, “oh, Professor O’Hara, you’re honestly too cute…” Miguel sees you coming in the corner of his eye, assuming you’re going in for a hug, but instead, you bend down to press a tender kiss on his sculpted cheekbone, pulling back with a soft mmmmmmmmmwah!, The small smack! Of your glossy lips making him look up at you with hooded eyes.
Miguel can feel his face warm up, a tingly sensation taking root at his cheek and spreading to the rest of his body. Miguel is in the clouds, looking up at you as if you were an angel that descended from the heavens (to him, you are). It took every bit of restraint to not pounce and absolutely smother you in sloppy kisses. Not yet.
You reveled in your successful advance, smiling down at him as you twirled one of his small curls at the back of his head. He looked absolutely adorable like this. The lipstick stain on his cheek makes you chuckle. It was a little funny; you had this man, twice your size who wore a scowl the majority of the time, absolutely hypnotized. You lean against his leather chair, your elbow resting on its shoulder. You speak sweetly, cocking your head to the side.
“So, I’ll see you tomorrow then, yeah?” He slowly nods, still in a daze with the lipstick stain on his cheek. You go to fix his glasses, pushing them back up to their respective spot on the bridge of his nose.
“Mkay, good. Have a nice evening then, Professor, and get some well-deserved sleep, kay? Thank you for helping me. You’re the best, as always.” You trail back to your bag and start to leave, practically skipping.
He can feel his dick twitch under the tight fabric of his pants with each praise and sway of your hips. It’s like you've put him in a trance. He's completely forgotten why he was mad or sad in the first place.
Of course, you wanted to kiss him on the lips, but you don’t wanna go too fast, either. You didn’t want to seem easy, but it was so damn difficult not to with those plump lips of his. Then your eyes went to other places, like his meaty thighs and the way his stomach spilled out of his khakis, his hard cock print just below his pudge leaving very little to imagination.
“Oh, and please,” Miguel shakes out of the fog, “It’s ‘Miguel’, mamita.” He smiles at you.
You smile back at him and wave goodbye, “See you later, Miguel.” His name in your mouth sounds like a siren song. You strut out of his office with the new knowledge of your professor’s infatuation with you. This whole time, you assumed he was just a really nice teacher. You didn’t think your feelings would actually be requited.
So that’s why he bought you all those clothes and gave you head messages!
And he definitely is fucking his hand in his office after that kiss! Isn't he just dreamy ?!?!?!?
< 3
The next morning, after class, you helped Professor Miguel clean up by wiping the boards for him. He was at the desk, piles upon piles of ungraded and unread papers awaiting his review.
You watched him, hunched over his desk, brows knitted, and looking stressed out of his mind.
"Miguel," he immediately perks up at your sweet voice.
"You aren't gonna do all that by yourself, are you?" You get closer to his desk.
Miguel chuckles and sighs as he looks at the comically tall pile he has to work on, "Have been for 5 years, mama. Now, you're not gonna volunteer yourself, are you?" He playfully mocks you, but he isn't really joking.
"Of course I am! There's no need to do all this by yourself. You work yourself too hard, Miguel." you start sectioning off a thick bundle of papers, but Miguel waves his hand in refusal before placing it on yours, "No, mama, thank you, but I can manage on my own-" you lightly slap off his hand.
"I am not asking. I will help you. I want to." You divide the pile into two, then pull up a chair next to him.
"Mamita, porfa, va ja. It's getting late and this takes hours. no quiero que tu camine a ete hora." He persuades softly as he lays his beefy arm across the back of your chair, making circles on your shoulder with his thumb.
"Well then, we better get started." You say with a pen already in hand and your first research paper in front of you.
Miguel responds with a deep chuckle in his throat, starting on his own pile seeing that he doesn't have a choice. He softly smiles, stealing a glance at you from time to time. He's just happy to be with his favorite person. His girl.
A/N: Yippie! A kiss! It's on the cheek, but still, it’s a step forward!! Finally! I hope you all enjoyed it!!! n tysm for all the love on this series < 3 I didn't think I'd stretch this out as much as I am pero liiiiiike he's all I think abt ur honor!!!
Want more DadBod!Miguel? Here’s my master list, bae !!
Tags < 3
@safixiovi @mukeovernetflix @mochikisses @miguels-cock-piercings @miranexx @bunnibitez @deepdiveintothedeephive @faretheeoscar @sillygardeneggperson @librababe99 @sariespi @little-lovelace @monstersimp @oharasfilipinawife @obi-mom-kenobi @pomakori @rxckstarss @mochimoqa @princesatracionera @queerponcho @froggygal @yaysposts @koko-1025 @kikaaauu @lauraolar14 @anotherprettyprincess @kaidxra @farrowroyale @pigeonmama @exactlyyoungchaos @fayeofthenightingale @s4dow @hartsucks @amberbalcom14 @ce3stvu @helen-j-magnus @tatooieve @wait2nourh @angzlo @stargirrls @hyjionie @stargirrls @walmaerts @bammzyboomy
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heartateasee · 1 month
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“Intraoffice”
ceo!harry x you
Word Count: 13k
Warnings: a handjob, some comeplay, fingering (f receiving), brief spitting and protected sex.
Plot: Your previous CEO was retiring, and Harry is taking his place. Neither of you were expecting each other to be so young, and after while, you begin to develop a flirty friendship within the workplace. One business trip causes all those feelings to come to fruition.
(I stumbled across this TikTok account the other night, and it caused me to spiral. So, this is the result of that 🤭 Big thank you to my bestie @finelinenina for giving me some ideas for this one as well 🫶🏻)
ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ
To say that you were going into work nervous today would be an understatement. Today was the day you were going to meet the new CEO of the company, and you were praying to whatever was above that he was kinder than the current CEO - your boss. It wasn’t that he was necessarily a mean man, Mr. Crawford, but he was older, and he liked for his assistant to not be seen or heard. He expected for you to get the job down silently, and while being invisible. It took you a little bit of time, but for the most part, you had your day down to where you and Mr. Crawford never crossed paths - something he very much appreciated.
His coffee was on his desk, as well as a print out of his meetings for the day before he even stepped foot into the office, and by the time he did, you were already behind your own desk working on other tasks. When lunchtime came, you had his lunch hot and ready, once again on his desk, before his late morning meeting finished. And then when it was time for his afternoon coffee, you snuck it into his office during his after lunch meeting.
The other assistants commented on how odd it was that Mr. Crawford made you arrange everything while he was out of his office, and you felt the same way, but it was just routine now. Hell, you had been doing it for the past four years since you were offered the position right after you had completed your internship. It was just normal now.
So this morning, you placed two cups of coffee on Mr. Crawford’s desk as you knew the replacement CEO would be with him, and you printed off two copies of the day's meetings since he would also be shadowing him all day. You didn’t really mind if the new CEO wanted you to be invisible as well, but you hoped that maybe you would start having a little bit of appreciation thrown your way instead of just being met with silence.
Just as you had turned on your heel, going to exit the office, you heard Mr. Crawford’s voice which caused your eyes to widen. He was earlier than usual today, and that caused your heart to race a bit. The last thing you needed was for him to scold you in front of your new boss.
“And just in here is where your office will be,” Mr. Crawford stepped into the doorway, and you stood there like a deer in headlights - fiddling with your fingers behind your back. “Oh, Y/N, I was hoping we’d catch you.”
You had to force off an expression of confusion at his words as you knew he was probably trying to make himself come off as a better boss. “Good morning, Mr. Crawford. I’ve just placed your coffees on the desk, as well as your schedules for the day.”
“Thank you,” he nodded at you before moving out of the way, and it was as if time stood still once the man behind him was revealed. “This is Mr. Harry Styles. He’s going to be your new boss as of Monday.”
He was young - way younger than you anticipated. With cropped curls and moss colored eyes, you truly found yourself in a bit of a trance looking at him. He had plush, pillowy looking lips with a nose that looked like it had been sculpted by the gods. Fuck, it was honestly as if every part of him had been sculpted by the gods.
“Mr. Styles, so nice to meet you,” you extended your hand to him. “I’m Y/N. I’m looking forward to working so closely together.”
Harry smiled at you, and once he took your hand, you immediately felt a warmth spreading all over your body. “Wonderful to meet you, Miss Y/N. Thank you for the coffee.”
You felt your face flush at his politeness before your hold dropped. “Of course, that’s what I’m here for,” you flicked your eyes between the two men before giving them a nod. “Well, Mr. Crawford, you know where to find me if you need me.”
As you went to leave the office, you could feel Harry’s eyes following you, and you peeked over your shoulder - confirming that he was indeed still staring. You subconsciously bit down on your bottom lip as you quickly looked away to avoid drawing attention from Mr. Crawford. Once you were back at your desk, you let out a deep breath as you stared at your computer screen.
Harry wasn’t at all what you were expecting, and little did you know that you weren’t what he was expecting either. 
ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ
It had been a couple of weeks now that Harry had been your boss, and he honestly hadn’t seen or heard you much. Occasionally you would have to call into his office to let him know that he had a call, or he’d approach your desk if he needed to have a meeting rearranged, but other than that, the situation was very much like the one when you worked for Mr. Crawford.
This morning, however, Harry made it a point to get to the office almost ten minutes earlier than usual. He wanted to try to catch you, to see exactly why you had been avoiding him. He wasn’t really aware of the fact that this is how you did things previously considering Mr. Crawford seemed more than elated to have caught you during your initial introduction. He thought that maybe you didn’t like him, and if that was the case, he needed to make things right.
He greeted a few people as he walked through the lobby, heading towards his office where he hoped you’d either be, or he’d be able to already be there before you came in. As he got closer to his door, he could hear slight shuffling, and he quietly poked his head in to see you organizing his meeting schedule, while placing another stack of papers down beside it. He figured those were the contracts that had been finalized for him to sign. His coffee was still in your hand as you did this, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth in concentration.
“Good morn-”
Harry couldn’t finish his greeting as a scream left your lips, and you jumped, spilling his coffee all over the front of your dress. You gasped as the hot liquid seeped through the fabric, and the paper cup was quickly dropped to the ground as you tried to pull your dress away from your chest. Thankfully you were wearing one with a high neckline so you wouldn’t be exposing yourself, but the material was a cream color, something you normally knew better than to wear given how clumsy you were.
“Oh my god!” Harry exclaimed as he walked forward, and without even thinking, he wrapped his hands around your wrists, assisting you with pulling the fabric away from your skin. “Y/N, I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s okay,” you sucked in a deep breath as the burning sensation began to fade away, and you swallowed harshly. “It’s fine. I’m a klutz anyway. I’ll make sure to get you another coffee as soon as possible. Thank god it didn’t get on your documents.”
Harry’s eyebrows narrowed as you spoke, and he shook his head. “I could care less about the documents. I’m not worried about them or another coffee. How’s your chest? Did it burn your skin?”
Your eyes darted down to where only you could see the exposed skin from you dress still being pulled, and you shook your head. “It doesn’t look like it,” you dropped your hands, causing Harry’s to leave your wrists, and the damp dress clung to your abdomen once again. 
“Please, take the morning to go home and change and to regather. I can’t tell you how sorry-”
“Oh, I won’t need to go home. I keep a spare change of clothes in my desk. Like I said,” you spoke as you lifted your hand above your head before pointing down at yourself. “Klutz.”
Harry couldn’t help but chuckle softly at your gesture, and he pursed his lips to the side. “Alright then, how about this? You go ahead and change, and then we’ll go out for some breakfast so I can make this up to you.”
“Breakfast? But you have a meeting at-”
“Reschedule it,” Harry said as he tucked his hands into his pockets. “We’re going to the diner down the street. You’re my new meeting.”
Your stomach formed a knot when you heard his words, and you finally found it within yourself to clamp your jaw shut. “Yes, Mr. Styles. I’ll just be a few minutes. I won’t keep you waiting long.”
“Y/N,” Harry stepped forward, and you looked up at him with round eyes. “You take all the time you need, okay? I’ll wait however long if it means you’ll feel comfortable again.”
Words escaped you at that point. This was your boss, and you had never had a man show this much concern over you before, not within the first couple weeks of knowing each other at least.
“Mhmm,” you hummed out a squeak before quickly leaving his office. 
You made your way over to your desk to retrieve the extra black trousers, and the maroon colored jumper stashed away in your bottom drawer before making your way into the employee bathroom.
Pulling your stained dress up, you grimaced as it stuck to you slightly since it had just barely begun to dry. You grabbed some paper towels and ran them under the water for a few seconds before beginning to wipe over your chest, and some of your abdomen until you were rid of all the sticky substance.
You pulled on your clothes quickly, not wanting to make Harry wait too much longer, and you exited the bathroom.
Once Harry saw you back at your desk, he left his office as you made the phone call to reschedule his morning meeting to tomorrow instead since you knew he had an opening. You watched as he grabbed your dress from where you had it laying over the back of your chair- eyebrows narrowing as you saw him drape it over the crease of his arm.
You hung up the phone and placed the strap of your purse over your shoulder. “What are you doing with my dress?”
Harry smirked softly before tilting his head towards the elevators. “Ready to go?”
You nodded in response, and then the two of you were down and out of the building - heading down the street.
“Which diner did you want to go to? I can call ahead and make sure a table is ready,” you stated, fumbling to get your cell out of your purse.
“That’s not necessary, Y/N. If we have to wait, we’ll wait,” Harry shrugged as he started to guide you down a side street, and you began to look around.
“Mr. Styles, I’m not trying to overstep here, but I don’t think there’s a diner down this street.”
“I’m not heading for the diner right now,” he shook his head, and you only walked a few more paces before he was opening up a door to a shop.
He lifted his eyebrows in encouragement for you to step in first as he held the door open, and you did so. Harry followed close behind, and you watched as he approached the counter.
“I’ll need this garment dry cleaned, please,” you heard him state before he was handing your dress over to the elderly woman helping him. “Do you think it could be finished by tomorrow?”
“Oh, Harry, I’ll have it done for you by this evening,” the woman cooed, reaching across the counter to pinch one of his cheeks.
You watched him smile, his deep dimples denting into his skin as he left out a soft laugh. “You’re too good to me, Muriel. We’ll be back whenever you give me a call.”
At this point, you were floored. Not only was he so apologetic about the spill that he practically begged you to join him for breakfast, now he was getting your dress dry cleaned?
Once you stepped back out onto the street, you started back in the direction you came from.
“You really didn’t need to do that,” you told him as you pursed your lips to the side. “I could’ve just taken care of it at home.”
“Nonsense,” Harry said, glancing over at you for a moment as you crossed the street. “If I hadn’t startled you, the coffee wouldn’t have been spilled, therefore, I wanted to make it right.”
“I really need you to stop blaming yourself for that,” you laughed softly as you continued down the sidewalk - not realizing where you were stepping was a bit unlevel.  
It caused your ankle to slightly roll, and you let out a yelp as you tripped. You braced yourself for impact with your lids shut tight, but instead you were met with a solid chest and an arm around your waist. You blinked your eyes open to see Harry looking down at you - his eyebrows up on his forehead.
“You weren’t joking when you said you were a klutz, were you?”
You felt your cheeks flush before shaking your head. “No, I wasn’t.”
You both shared a chuckle as you separated, and you were grateful to see that you were approaching a diner not too long after your stumble. The last thing you needed was to trip over another uneven sidewalk, or even worse, your own feet. 
Just like before at the dry cleaners, Harry held the door open for you, and you immediately walked over to the host stand - a habit of yours to just do this on your own. Any time Mr. Crawford held a dinner at a restaurant, it had always been your responsibility to make sure they knew you were checking in for their reservation.
“Hello, we’d like a table for two please,” you greeted her with a smile, and watched as she gathered a couple menus before nodding her head for you to follow.
Looking over your shoulder, you saw Harry watching you intently, and you tried to swallow down the nerves starting to bubble in your chest. You had never seen someone look at you the way he did before. You weren’t sure if it was a good or a bad thing, to be honest, but all you knew was that it made you nervous. 
The host set your menus down on the table of a booth, and you and Harry both slipped into the opposite benches. You tried your best to focus on narrowing down what you wanted, but this was an unusual circumstance. Never once were you asked by your boss to go to breakfast just the two of you, and as appreciative as you were that Harry had asked you, it was unfamiliar territory.
“Do you see something that you think you’d want?” Harry spoke up after a few minutes, and you flashed your eyes up to him over the top of your menu to see that his were already on you. “If not, we can go somewhere else.”
His need to make sure you were constantly comfortable was so foreign that you could hardly wrap your head around it. You realized it had been a few moments since he had asked his question, and you had remained silent. “Oh no,” you shook your head before clearing your throat. “This is perfect. I see a couple things that are peaking my interest actually.”
Harry smiled at you, and you felt a fluttering in your lower stomach. “Get whatever you’d like.”
It was only a few minutes later that a server came over to the table, and Harry ordered a carafe of coffee for the two of you, as well as two waters before extending his hand over to you - asking you silently to order your food first.
“I’ll take the breakfast sampler, please,” you stated, looking over everything that came on it so you didn’t miss any of the options. “I’ll take one sausage and one bacon with that, sunny side up eggs with white buttered toast and hashbrown casserole, please.”
Handing your menu off to the server, you turned your attention back to Harry. His eyes were darting over the laminated paper in his hand before he looked to the server. “You know what? I’ll do the same please, but instead of the sausage and bacon, could I have a bowl of fruit with that?”
The server nodded, taking Harry’s menu as well before walking away from the table.
“For a second I thought you were going to break your vegetarian status,” you said playfully as you leaned forward onto the table - intertwining your fingers together.
Harry mimicked your actions, and you caught sight of the cross tattoo on his hand. You knew he had another right along his wrist as you could see glimpses of the ink sometimes, but you always wanted to ask him if he had any others. 
“As much as I do miss bacon, I’ve been going strong for too many years to break it now,” he smirked, and you were slowly feeling more comfortable with the one on one time together.
You weren’t a nervous individual by nature, to be honest, however, you did tend to be particularly quiet. You’re sure a lot of that had to do with the fact that’s what was asked of you for the past four years. Once conversation struck, and you were interested, you could hold a proper interaction.
“Didn’t mean to tempt you,” you giggled before biting down on your bottom lip.
Harry noticed that was something you must do subconsciously, but he found it alluring. 
The server came back with your two waters, two mugs and the carafe of coffee - setting it all down on the table alongside sugar packets and cream. You and Harry both went to reach for the carafe, fingers brushing against each other, and you pulled your hand back quickly.
“Sorry,” you muttered, dropping your hands into your lap, but Harry held that coy half smile as he poured you each a cup of coffee.
“How do you take yours?” Harry asked, as he set the carafe towards the end of the table against the wall to have it out of the way.
“Two sugars and just a splash of cream, please.”
Your eyes were fixed on his every move as you watched him pour the contents into the mug before he pushed it over your way. He pulled his own mugs towards him - not putting anything in it, as always. 
“Thank you,” both of your hands cupped the warm mug, and you fought off a hum at just how wonderful the heat felt against your palms.
The hustle and bustle of the diner blanketed over the two of you, and for a minute your attention was caught by just how quickly all the servers were moving around to make sure everything was getting taken care of in a timely manner.
“Y/N,” Harry saying your name caught your attention, and you looked back over to him. “Can I ask you a question?”
Your eyebrows furrowed before you gave him a nod. “Yeah, of course.”
“Have I done something to make you not like me?” Harry asked, tilting his head to the side.
Your eyes widened at his question, and you quickly shook your head. “No, not at all! Why would you think that?”
“Well, I never see you.”
You were caught so off guard. Him not seeing you made him think you didn’t like him? You thought you were doing him a favor by not being an interruption. 
“Well, I just thought that maybe Mr. Crawford had talked to you before he left, and maybe you wanted me to keep doing things the way he liked,” you explained.
“Which was?”
It was then you realized that Mr. Crawford didn’t tell Harry at all about how he really didn’t want you being present around him. It was a bit shocking to you that he wouldn’t have mentioned that, considering a lot of businessmen had that preference, and it seemed to be a little hard to find assistants who would obey that rule so well. 
“He didn’t really like seeing me,” you shrugged. “Or hearing me either. That’s why I always have your coffee, schedule and any documents you may need to take care of on your desk and ready to go before you’re there. It’s also why your lunch is delivered while you’re in your late morning meeting.”
An expression you really couldn’t make out rested on Harry’s face, and since he didn’t speak, you continued.
“If I had to run things to his house after work, I’d use my key to let myself in, drop off whatever he needed, and regardless of whether or not he or his wife were home, I would be in and out. It took a little while to get used to, but once I did, it was easy.”
You watched as Harry lifted a hand to run it through the front of his curls, and you forced yourself to look away from the flex of his bicep as he did so. “God, Y/N, I’m so sorry. I had no idea that’s how you had to do things when he was around. I can promise you that’s not how you have to be with me.”
Slipping your eyes shut, you couldn’t help but let out a small sigh of relief. “Oh, thank god,” you giggled before looking at him again. “It was easier with him because I had his routine down. I was guessing every day with you.”
Harry’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of your giggle. It was hard for him to believe someone couldn’t want you to work around them and do your job properly. From the little bits of you he had been able to see, you seemed like the perfect employee. 
“So with that being said,” Harry started. “I’d like my morning cup of coffee after I’ve arrived at the office.”
You opened your mouth to speak, but Harry held up a finger to stop you. “And I’d like to prepare it myself in the kitchen with you, as you prepare your own. Then from there, we can go back to my office, and you can walk me through the meeting schedule for the day. You don’t have to worry about ordering me lunch anymore, I can take care of that myself.”
“What about your afternoon cup of coffee?” You blurted out, making Harry smile even wider than he already was.
“Can I be honest with you?” He waited for you to nod before proceeding. “I was only drinking about a quarter of it before dumping it out. Coffee that late in the day would keep me wired all night.”
“Mr. Styles,” you gasped, jaw dropping. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It seemed a bit impolite, you know? I felt bad that you had gone through the trouble of making it for me, and I didn’t want to just waste it. It also felt wrong to tell you to stop when I thought it was something you enjoyed doing for me.”
You wanted to respond again, but the server was back - placing the appropriate sampler in front of the two of you. You both thanked them as they walked off, and you shook your head as you reviewed the newfound information from him in your head.
“Mr. Styles, I-”
“Y/N.”
“Yes?” You looked at him as he sent you one of the most gentle looks you’ve ever seen.
“You can call me Harry.”
ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ
In the few months that followed your breakfast “meeting” with Harry, the two of you developed a really great work relationship. The truth was, the two of you knew that this was a full on friendship as well at this point, but keeping things professional was necessary. If you texted after hours, it was about work only, and if you saw each other outside of the office, it was at work oriented events.
Regardless of that, you each had gotten in the habit of doing little things here and there for each other. You never made a big deal about it, neither of you would tell the other it was you who did it, but you both just knew. 
The first time Harry did something unexpected for you was about a month after your new work agreement. That morning you had noticed that the pink peonies you had in your vase on your desk were on their last leg, and you frowned as you tossed them into the trash. 
“Maybe this time I can get yellow ones,” you had told Stella, the assistant who worked at the desk right next to yours. “I wanted them the first time around, but they were all out.”
That afternoon when you came back from having lunch with Stella, you saw that your vase was full of yellow peonies. Your mouth gaped as you raced over to them, running the tips of your fingers over the soft petals. It was then you caught sight of Harry leaning against the doorway of his office out of the corner of your eye, and you looked over to him. He tucked his hands into his pockets as he gave you a smile, and you stared into his eyes as you gave him a knowing one back.
A couple of weeks ago you walked into the office on a Monday after having a relaxing weekend of self-care, and as you met Harry in the kitchen for your usual cups of coffee, you watched his eyes light up as he took you in. “You got your hair done,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.
“You noticed?” You couldn’t help but laugh when you asked. You were so surprised.
“Yeah,” he nodded, the tip of his tongue running over his bottom lip. “It looks really good, Y/N.”
You had blushed furiously that day that you were surprised you didn’t combust into flames.
The vibe between the two of you had floated over into flirting territory probably more times than it should, but you both were responsible enough not to take it any further. Sometimes the flirting involved little remarks, or long glances, and even sometimes Harry would take your breath away with a small squeeze to your hip as he moved behind you to reach for something.
You both felt incredibly comfortable around each other, but regardless of that, you had turned Harry’s invitation down for dinner at his house a couple of times. He would only ever offer when you would come by his house after work to drop something off for him, or when you needed to pick something up to be delivered over the weekend. As much as you wanted to tell him yes, you knew it wasn’t a good idea. The last thing either of you needed was someone finding out that you were spending personal time outside of work. 
Of course he was the CEO, the one calling most of the shots, but he still had his own people to answer to. You didn’t want to get the two of you in trouble, and Harry didn’t either - that’s why he understood every time you would decline. No matter how many times you had rejected the offer, Harry couldn’t find it in himself to stop asking, and part of him hoped that one day would give in.
Harry had noticed so many little things about you during the time you had spent together. The way you ate crunchy cheetos with chopsticks so you didn’t get your fingers dirty while working was adorable to him, and he picked up on the way you would slightly scrunch up your nose when you were working on a spreadsheet that was proving to be troublesome. 
He noticed the way you came into work each week with a different color of polish coating your impeccably manicured nails. When you told him that you did them yourself one day when he complimented the small polka dot designs you had adorning each of your ring fingers, he was floored. He had become completely infatuated with your presence - if he was going to be completely honest. 
That’s why as he stood at the bar with a pint in his hand and his eyes set on you speaking with a man he didn’t recognize, he felt an uneasiness in his stomach. The office had gone out for drinks at the usual spot on a Friday afternoon to celebrate an easy and successful week, and most of the time you were attached to Harry’s hip, however, there seemed to be a law firm that was also occupying said bar.
You had been speaking to this same man for about fifteen minutes now, and Harry watched as he moved slightly closer to you over time. You weren’t a very big drinker, Harry knew that. You’d always have one cocktail while out with everyone, and you’d sip on it the entire time - finishing it up just a few minutes before you’d announce you were leaving.
So, when Harry saw the man gesturing to your drink, clearly asking if you’d like another, his hand tensed around his cold glass before he brought it up to take a large swig of his beer.
He saw that you politely declined, and luckily the man honored it and didn't push. If he had, there’d be a serious problem.
For the remaining hour that you both were at the bar, Harry had managed to get himself properly wasted. It made him sick to watch you openly flirt with some else when all he wanted to do was to be able to do that with you. 
It wasn’t until you walked over to the bar to stand next to Stella for a moment to pay your tab that the man walked back over to his friends. Harry watched him closely, and his stomach churned as he watched the way the man tapped each of his colleagues and pointed at you. The men surrounding him, both younger and older, eyed you up and down like a piece of meat. 
Harry quickly asked to pay his tab, scribbling a hefty tip and his signature on the receipt just in time as he saw you walking back over to the asshole who had every ounce of your attention. After what Harry had just seen him do, there was no way he was going to let you leave with him.
Just as the man was beginning to ask for just your number, Harry practically stumbled up next to you, and your eyes widened as you quickly wrapped an arm around his torso - having him fully lean into your side.
“Harry, you alright?” You asked with narrowed brows.
As you studied him, you could see that he was more drunk than you had ever seen him. Hell, you had really only seen him tipsy before. This was extremely out of the ordinary for him.
“Yeah, ‘m alright,” he slurred just slightly, but he still managed to stay poised. “Jus’ wanted to come and check on you.”
Your eyes flitted over to the man, and you sent him a weak smile. “This your boyfriend?” The man asked, and you heard Harry try to stifle a laugh in the back of his throat before you saw a look take over his eyes - as if a light switch had gone off.
“Actually, I am,” Harry nodded, and your lips parted at that response. “I am Y/N’s boyfriend, and if you’ll excuse us, I think it’s time we went home.”
The man scoffed, and Harry watched as his eyes now looked over you with disgust. “Pretty cheap of you to flirt with me for the past hour when your boyfriend’s in the same building, but I guess I kind of understand if he gets this wasted and ignores you all night.”
“Hey, that’s enough!” You snapped, speaking up before Harry had a chance to - even though his mouth was open to do so. His body was clearly working on a delayed system. “You don’t get to speak about him like you know him. You don’t know him at all.”
Shaking your head, you tightened your arm around Harry’s waist as he threw one of his around your shoulders, and as you began to walk away, Harry turned his head to look at the man with a smirk.
“Oh, and one more thing!” You spoke up as you turned around, talking a bit louder so the man could hear you over the music, causing the attention from some of the other patrons to be on you. “Your cologne fucking reeks - smells like a cat pissed all over your suit.”
Harry’s eyes widened, and he let out the loudest cackle you had heard within your time together as you pushed open the front door to the bar. As you headed down the street, you could barely walk in a straight line due to having your tall British boss clinging to your side.
“I’m gonna drive you home, okay?” You told him as you approached your car that was parallel parked on the street. Using your free hand, you fished your keys from your purse and unlocked the car before helping Harry into the passenger seat.
Once he was good and buckled, you shut the door and rounded over to your side. You slipped inside and turned on the car as you felt Harry’s eyes lingering on the side of your face. 
“Let me know if you’re going to get sick or something, alright? I’ve never seen you drink this much before,” you commented as you pulled out of your spot and started down the roads towards his house.
Harry didn’t live too far from here, probably around five minutes maximum, so you really didn’t mind taking him home.
“Yeah, but ‘m not gonna get sick. I have an iron stomach,” Harry stated as he patted his palm against his covered abdomen. “Haven’t puked from drinking in years.”
The car ride was silent except for the light music playing on the radio, and at first you thought Harry had fallen asleep, but when you glanced over, he was just staring at his hands in his lap. 
Once you pulled into his driveway, you got out and went over to his side to assist him - supporting him in almost every way as you stepped up onto his porch. You got his keys out of his suit jacket to unlock the door before the two of you were heading inside.
“Didn’t like that guy talking to you,” Harry mumbled as you tossed his keys into the bowl on the table near the door.
“Oh, really? I couldn’t tell,” you laughed sarcastically. You weren’t irritated by any means, but it was all just a little confusing to you why he was acting that way. “Called yourself my boyfriend.”
Harry hummed as he nodded, as you started up his stairs to where you knew his bedroom was. “I could be, you know?”
“What?” You looked over at him quickly, stopping the progress you were making on the stairs.
You soon realized that was a big mistake as Harry started to sway, and your eyes widened as you started leaning backwards. “Okay, hey!” You exclaimed, pulling him forward again before continuing to walk. “About sent us down the damn stairs, Harry.”
“I said, I could be your boyfriend,” Harry repeated himself, completely ignoring the almost tumble once you got him into his bedroom.
“Alright, big guy,” you couldn’t help but let out an actual giggle now as you patted him on the chest. “I’m going to lay you out some pajamas, and you’re going to change while I go downstairs and get you some medicine and some water. Then I’m gonna get you tucked in and leave.”
“I mean it,” Harry’s eyebrows narrowed, clearly offended even in his drunken state that you weren’t taking him seriously. “I like you, Y/N. You’re so beautiful, and you’re bright - you light up a whole room when you walk into it.”
Never once did you know that’s how he felt, but you obviously couldn’t be sure given his current alcohol level. “Harry,” you said softly as you guided him to sit on the end of his bed. “We can talk about this more when you’re sober, alright?”
You almost felt guilty. If this really was how he felt, you were sure this wouldn’t be the type of situation for him to tell you. You knew how Harry was just from the little things he had done for you over your time together. He was sentimental, and he treasured when things were genuine. This isn’t how he would want this to go.
“No, no,” Harry reached forward to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you into him which caused you to gasp. He rested his forehead against your stomach, but you kept your arms limp by your sides. “The thing is, ‘m too much of a coward to tell you when I’m sober. Never been so intimidated by someone in my life.”
You? Intimidating?
Yeah, he was definitely letting the pints and shots he had do the talking.
“Look, I can initiate the conversation next time we see each other that way we can ease into it, but you’re going to regret doing this right now.”
Lifting his head, Harry stared up at you with his droopy green eyes. He moved one hand to rest on your hip, while his other just barely reached to wrap around the back of your neck. “Thought about kissing you,” his lips rolled into his mouth for just a moment before continuing to speak. “Think about it all the time.”
The truth was, you had thought about kissing him too, and you’re sure if you were the one spilling your guts right now, you’d use the same phrasing - you thought about it all the time.
“Come on, H,” the nickname you rarely used slipped from your mouth as you tried to calm him down a bit more. “Let me get you some pajamas so you can change.”
You wrapped your hands around each of his wrists to break his hold on you, and you walked over to his dresser to pull out a pair of joggers and a shirt. 
By the time you turned around, Harry was on his back still fully clothed with his mouth wide open. In the twenty seconds it had taken you to get him proper pajamas, he had passed out.
“You’ve gotta be joking,” you mumbled as you walked back over to him, tossing the pajamas onto the top of the dresser before doing so.
Lowering yourself to the ground, you untied each of his shoes and slipped them off of his feet before tossing them to the side. You stood up, tugging his body around so you could at least get his suit jacket off. Unfortunately, the rest of it would be staying on. You didn’t feel comfortable changing him without his permission as this situation had never happened before.
With every bit of strength you could muster up, you pulled Harry further back onto the bed so that his head was on one of his pillows, and you tucked him underneath the sheets. 
You went downstairs to grab the glass of water that you had talked about before, as well as two Tylenol and a granola bar. Going up to his bedroom one last time, you placed all the items onto his nightstand, and retrieved his phone out of his jacket pocket to plug it in before you exited the house all together.
You weren’t sure if Harry was going to remember this evening or not. And you weren’t really sure if you wanted him to.
ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ
“Y/N, are you almost ready?” You heard Harry’s voice, followed by a tapping of knuckles against your hotel room door.
You and Harry were out of town for a work event, and you were just putting the finishing touches on your look, however, you hadn’t been able to put your dress on yet as you just finished curling your hair.
Making sure that your robe was tied securely around you, you walked over to the door and opened it - your jaw immediately dropping as you saw how delicious Harry looked in his suit.
“Oh my,” you gasped before you could stop yourself, but once your eyes met his, you cleared your throat. “You look spectacular, Harry.”
You could see a pink tint washing over his cheeks, and it was then you noticed the garment bag he had draped over the crease of one of his arms.
“Thank you,” he smiled before tilting his chin towards the bag. “I know you probably brought your own dress, but I saw this the other day when I picked up my suit, and it reminded me of you.”
You watched as he extended the garment bag to you, and you shook your head. “Harry, I don’t know if I could-”
“Please, Y/N, it would mean a lot to me if you’d wear it. If you don’t like it though, you don’t have to.”
You wanted to ask how he knew your size, but you figured he made a mental note when taking your dress to the dry cleaners that one day. 
Sucking in a deep breath, you took the bag from him. “I just need to change and then I’m ready to go.”
Harry nodded. “Take all the time you need. I’ll wait for you down in the lobby. Do you want me to order you a quick drink?”
“That’s okay,” you shook your head. “I’ll have a drink at the event.”
Harry knew that would probably be the only one you’d have for the evening given your track record. “Well, I’ll leave you to it.”
You kept your eyes on Harry’s retreating frame as he walked down the hotel hallway, and you sighed as you shut the door.
It had been a few weeks since Harry’s confession after the bar. When you saw him at work on Monday, he apologized profusely for how drunk he had gotten, but he also thanked you for getting him home. You didn’t want to just flat out ask if he remembered what happened by reciting exactly what he said, so you asked him if he remembered almost pulling the both of you down the stairs instead.
That’s when he confessed he didn’t remember a thing after approaching you at the bar. Since he didn’t remember anything, you decided that you’d leave it. It was probably for the best anyway, and you didn’t want to embarrass him.
But the truth was, Harry lied.
He remembered everything, which shocked him given how drunk he was, and he was so ashamed of himself. He couldn’t believe that he rambled to you about how he felt, how he wanted to be your boyfriend. Not to mention he spilled that he thought about kissing you all the time.
Harry knew it was wrong to lie to you, considering it wasn’t like you could forget what happened. Technically neither could he, but at least he could act like he did.
The fact that you accepted the dress made him happy. There had been a weight in his chest since everything happened because things didn’t feel like they used to between the two of you, and he had no one to blame for that by himself. He didn’t lie about how he came to find the dress though. He really did see it in the window a couple shops down from where he got his suit. He just hoped that you liked it.
Leaning against the bar in the lobby, Harry had ordered himself a short glass of tequila on the rocks - just something to ease his nerves as he waited for you. He was hoping the fact that it was just the two of you on this trip that things could go back to the way they were. You were here together for the weekend, just arriving today and then heading home Monday morning.
He missed the playful banter between the two of you, but most of all, he missed your giggles. He had only heard one or two since that night, and it was eating away at him that he was the reason they went away.
Just as he was sipping the rest of his drink, he heard the clicking of heels against the tiled floor of the lobby, and he turned to look towards the elevators.
Harry thought he was going to fall through the floor just at the sight of you in that dress. He watched as your eyes searched around before falling onto him, and you sent him a small smile as you started to make your way over. 
“Wow, Y/N,” Harry met you halfway, having finished off his drink and already paid his tab. “You're stunning.”
You knew you were blushing due to his compliment, so you tried your best to change the subject off of your appearance.
“Let’s just hope I make it through the night without breaking an ankle in these heels,” you joked, causing a soft laugh to leave Harry.
“I’ll make sure you’re steady on your feet, don’t worry.”
You each took a moment to take each other in once more before Harry was extending his arm out to you. “Shall we? The car is waiting out front for us.”
Your eyes dwelled on his arm for a moment before you closed the gap between the two of you completely, cupping the crease of his elbow as he started to lead you towards the doors of the hotel.
Once outside, the driver opened the back door of the car, and when he went to extend his hand for you to take for assistance while getting in, Harry made it a point to stand right in front of him and offer you his hand instead. You couldn’t fight the small smirk that pushed its way forward, and you took Harry’s hand before entering the back seat.
You slid all the way over, watching as Harry got in right behind you, and the driver shut the door.
“Didn’t want him holding my hand?” You asked, raising a brow.
Harry rubbed his hand along the back of his neck before shrugging. “I guess not.”
It reminded you of him saying he didn’t like that man talking to you at the bar, and for some reason, the thought of him being jealous over you caused a new feeling to ignite in your stomach.
Did it turn you on?
You were drawn out of your thoughts as you heard the driver’s side door shut, and you started off towards the event venue.
“Nervous?” You questioned, knowing this was Harry’s first big event since taking on his position.
“A little bit, yeah.”
But not because of the event. He was nervous because of you.
“Me too,” you confessed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I haven’t been to an event like this in a while. I’d come along with Mr. Crawford, but I’d stay at the hotel.”
Harry’s brows narrowed. “He didn’t allow you to accompany him?”
“No, not seen and not heard, remember?” You shrugged. “It’s okay though. I used to just order a bunch of room service, or I’d pay the hotel spa a little visit. He covered all the expenses which was the silver lining.”
“But still. That’s awful to make you travel all this way for you not to be able to participate in the main reason for coming.”
“To be honest, I probably would’ve had a terrible time. He was no fun,” you laughed softly, causing a small smile to grace Harry’s lips. “Not like you.”
“You think I’m fun?” Harry tilted his head to the side playfully.
“Definitely the most fun boss I’ve ever had. But I’ve only had one other than Mr. Crawford, and that was when I worked at a clothing store,” you joked.
“You wanna know a secret?” Harry asked.
Your stomach swirled a little bit at his question, but you nodded. “Sure.”
“I’ve never been a boss before. I wasn’t CEO at my last office even though I was practically doing the job. The other guy just got to be the face for all my hard work.”
“Oh my god, Harry, that’s awful,” you shook your head. “That’s seriously messed up.”
“It was, but I would’ve never left had I actually been the CEO, therefore, I would’ve never met you,” the words slipped from Harry’s mouth before he could process, and you watched as his eyes widened.
His slip up caused your heart to flutter, but you couldn’t allow yourself to get too giddy over it. Harry made it clear that his confession that one night was just drunk rambling, so it was clear your affection wasn’t reciprocated in the same manner.
“Very true,” you decided to finally respond after a moment. “I could’ve had another Mr. Crawford if it weren’t for you.”
The conversation came to an end as you approached the venue, and Harry got out of the car first - extending his hand out just like he had when you got in. You took it, and once you were out of the car, he offered you his arm just like he had back at the hotel, and your hand once again made its home in the crease of his elbow.
The two of you walked into the building, and when you saw just how many people there were, you subconsciously curled yourself into Harry’s side a little more.
“Lots of people, yeah?” Harry asked, and he turned his head to look down at you. Even with your heels, he still stood taller.
Biting down your bottom lip, the two of you ran your eyes over each other's faces before you answered. “Mhmm.”
You noticed the way that Harry’s eyes focused in on your mouth, and for the first time, you wished he’d actually kiss you. You wanted nothing more than to feel his lips against yours, but you knew it was wishful thinking.
“Mr. Styles!” The call of his name caused the two of you to separate, and you looked over to see the investor who had invited you to this event. “And Y/N, you look amazing.”
The man placed his hand on your hip, and leaned in to press a kiss against your cheek. Your eyes flitted over to Harry as he did so, and you could see his fists flexing by his side.
“Nice to see you again, Mr. Noble,” you said once he pulled away from you. “Thank you again for the invitation.”
“Of course, Harry here was also very insistent that you be joining him, even though it was already my intention to have you here.”
You could see Harry’s cheeks flush as Mr. Noble spoke, and you knew that wasn’t necessarily something he wanted you to know.
“Well still, I appreciate it very much.”
Mr. Noble nodded before extending his hand behind him. “Bar is all the way in the back, and there’s servers walking around with hor-d’oeuvres, so please, help yourselves.”
Once he walked away, you looked over to Harry. “Should we get ourselves some drinks?”
“Sure,” Harry placed his hand along your lower back as you made your way through the sea of people.
Just the smallest touch from him could warrant butterflies flying in your tummy, and as much as you loved it, you also hated it. You hated it because you knew those butterflies would never lead to anything. Sometimes you wondered if you’d be stuck with this stupid crush on your boss forever.
“What would you like to drink?” Harry asked you once you approached the bar, and you knew you needed something strong to ease your mind.
“I’ll take a whiskey on the rocks.”
Harry’s eyebrows raised at that, and part of him wanted to question you about it, but he decided against it.
“A tequila on the rocks, and a whiskey on the rocks, please,” he spoke to the bartender for the two of you, and you turned your attention to the floor of people conversing around you.
It wasn’t until you felt the side of Harry’s finger gliding against the outside of your arm that you looked back to him, and you saw he was extending your drink out to you.
“Thank you.”
You took it from him, taking a large sip to start which caused you to wince.
“Everything okay?” Harry’s face showed his concern.
“Just a lot of people,” you repeated his observation from earlier, and even though Harry didn’t believe you, he let it be.
“Ladies and gentlemen, dinner will be served in ten minutes!” The announcement rang overhead, and you felt Harry’s hand against your back once more.
“We should find our seats.”
ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ
You ended up having another whiskey, which Harry knew was extremely unusual for you, and it caused him to worry. Even though you still seemed just fine, he didn’t want you overdoing it. You had mentioned to him once that you didn’t like the feeling of being drunk, and that’s why you only ever stuck to one drink.
The event had wrapped up, and you and Harry found yourselves back in the lobby of your hotel.
“Feeling okay?” Harry checked in on you as he pressed the up button for the elevator, and you nodded.
“Just fine,” you answered, which was the truth.
The extra drink didn’t have you feeling very different, it was just helping you calm those nerves that had been wracking your system for the past few hours.
As you both stepped into the elevator, you ran your hands over your dress which had you realizing you hadn’t thanked Harry for buying it for you.
“This dress is so beautiful, Harry,” you told him, and he looked over at you as you did. “Thank you for buying it for me. I know it must have been expensive.”
Harry waved his hand in the air softly while the other stayed tucked into his pocket. “I didn’t even think about that when buying it for you. Just saw it and knew you had to have it.”
“It’s probably the prettiest piece of clothing I own now,” you laughed, which brought a smile to his face.
The elevator doors opened, and you both started towards your rooms which were right next to each other. After fishing your room key out of your clutch, you turned to face Harry for a moment.
“I had a really good time this evening. I hope that you did too.”
“I did,” Harry nodded. “It was nice seeing them raise all that money for charity, and I was happy to be a part of it.”
Part of you hoped he would have complimented the company he had instead of just speaking about work, but you didn’t know why you had expected that to begin with. 
He’s your boss. That’s all. 
You had thought for a moment there that it was maybe leading to something more, but with the way Harry had been acting ever since the night you took him home, you knew that was no longer the case.
“Well, goodnight,” you said softly, forcing a smile on your lips before swiping your key and entering your room. 
Your mood was officially deflated, and you hated that you felt that way. You had no right to. You indulged too far into the fantasy you had created in your head. You had no one to blame for that but yourself.
Sighing, you tossed your clutch onto the dresser with your room key before heading into the bathroom. You reached your hands behind you to pull down the zipper, but it wasn’t budging.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” you huffed as you turned and looked over your shoulder in the mirror so you could properly see the zipper, and it was then you noticed it was caught on the fabric of your dress.
You closed your eyes as you took in a deep breath as the realization that you were going to have to ask Harry for help dawned on you.
Grabbing your room key, you walked out of your room and over to his door. You had your fist raised above the wooden surface for a few seconds before you finally found the courage to knock. At first you didn’t hear anything, and you thought maybe he was in the shower and couldn’t hear you. You couldn’t bring yourself to knock again, in case he had heard it and was ignoring you, but just as you turned to walk back to your room, you heard the door open.
You looked over to see him standing in the doorway, and you couldn’t help but drop your jaw as you saw that he was just wearing a pair of joggers low on his hips. 
Your eyes ran over the ink that was etched into his skin, particularly the ones that draped over his hips, and the large butterfly on his stomach.
“I-I’m sorry,” you stammered, clearing your throat once you forced yourself to look at only his eyes. “My…my zipper. It’s caught.”
Harry’s eyebrows knitted together as he stepped to the side. “Come on in - let me have a look.”
You walked into his room, and you glanced into the bathroom to see that his toiletry bag was open.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” you stated, figuring he was just about to get in the shower.
“Nonsense, Y/N, you’re not bothering me. There’s no need to apologize. Turn around so I can see.”
Swallowing harshly, you turned around and brought all your hair over one of your shoulders so he had proper access to the zipper. You soon felt his hands on you, one cupping your ribcage while the other fiddled with the zipper.
“Oh, I see,” he mumbled, and you knew he was mostly talking to himself.
His hand gave your ribcage a small squeeze before he brought it up to meet the other one. You felt a bit of tugging for a few seconds before the sound of the zipper being pulled down filled your ears, and you felt the dress loosening against your torso.
“There you go,” Harry whispered, and you felt his fingertips dancing along the tops of your shoulders.
You kept your back to him, looking at him over your shoulder as you licked over your bottom lip. By the look in his eyes, you could tell he was pondering over something, and you couldn’t seem to stop yourself before speaking.
“Are you thinking of kissing me?”
Harry’s lips parted at your words, and you held a hand up against the top of your dress to keep it in place as you turned to face him.
“You told me you think about it all the time that night,” you told him, and you could feel your heart pounding against your ribcage. “And I should have told you that I think about it too.”
Stepping forward, Harry got rid of all the space between the two of you as he brought a hand up to cradle your chin in his palm. “Y/N, please don’t be playing with me.”
You shook your head as you let your freehand glide over the forearm of the hand connected to your face. “I’m not, Harry. I know it’s wrong, and that we’d be stepping over a line, but I can’t help it. I’m so enamored by you.”
Your breath caught in your throat as Harry moved his face forward, but you felt him tilting your head to the side - giving him full access to one of the sides of your neck. His lips grazed your skin, and as little as the contact was, you couldn’t stop the moan that left you.
“Please,” you pleaded, wrapping your hand around his wrist and giving it a squeeze. “Please, Harry.”
It was then that his lips fully connected to your neck, and he kissed his way down over the top of your shoulder. Your fingers dented his skin as he then made his way back up to your jawline. “Tell me what you want, Y/N.”
“You,” it came out as a whine unintentionally, but you couldn’t help it. You were a woman blinded by your want for him. “I need you.”
All time stood still as Harry’s mouth finally met yours - causing you to let out a small gasp. He took this as an invitation to seal his lips around your bottom one, and he lightly sucked it into his mouth. Another moan left you, and it was then you moved your hand from your chest - your dress falling to the ground around your heeled feet as you pressed your body against his.
Harry’s hands then grazed down your body until they met the rounds of your ass, kneading them softly before he dropped them lower to the back of your thighs. He was then lifting you off the ground, and you wrapped your legs around his waist - ankles crossed along his lower back as he walked you over to his bed, and you kicked your heels off your feet.
He laid you down gently right in the middle of the bed, and you finally opened your eyes to see him hovering over you. His eyes were drinking you, and you could tell he was admiring your breasts as they heaved up and down from the deep breaths you had to remind yourself to take. His cross pendant swung back and forth before resting against your chest when he leaned down to place another sweltering kiss on your mouth.
You couldn’t believe this was happening. Something that you had imagined in your mind for so long was now becoming a reality.
Your hands trembled as you brought them up to rest on his pecs, and you could feel that his heart was pounding just as hard as yours.
“Y/N, I have to tell you something,” Harry pulled away from your lips with a soft smack, and you couldn’t help but panic at his words. “I lied.”
You waited a moment before speaking. “You lied about what?”
“That night. I do remember confessing everything to you, but I was so embarrassed that it felt better for me to act like I had forgotten it. I was so nervous that I had ruined everything, and I thought lying would make things okay. I was wrong for doing that.”
“And you meant what you said?”
Harry nodded. “Meant every fucking word. I’m crazy about you.”
This time you initated the kiss as you wrapped one of your hands around the back of his neck, and you brought his mouth down against yours once more.
Your other hand journeyed down his chiseled chest to the waistband of his joggers, and you tugged at them - signaling that you wanted them off. Your eyes were closed as you felt him moving around, but they shot open when you could feel his hard length resting against your stomach. You had expected him to be wearing underwear.
Disconnecting your mouths, you looked down to see his cock - hard and leaking against your skin.
“Sorry,” he blushed furiously as you briefly looked up at him before looking back down. “I’m just so turned on right now. I’ve thought about this for so long.”
“Me too,” you nodded, running your tongue along your cheek before you reached down to wrap your hand around his shaft.
Keeping your eyes on his face, you watched as Harry’s eyes fluttered shut, and his breathing deepened once you began to work your hand over him. “Feels so good.”
“Yeah?” You let your hand leave him for just a second to spit into your palm before you started your movements right back up. “Can’t even fit my hand around you, Harry. You’re so big.”
Your dirty talk shocked him. For someone so quiet and reserved in the office, you sure did have a way of speaking in the bedroom.
“Pretty little hand just squeezing me, hm?” Harry knew he could dish it right back to you - the thought of the two of you going back and forth causing another blurt of precome to drip from his leaky slit. “I could come just from this, to be honest. Fucked my fist so many times thinking about you. Felt wrong to moan your name, but I couldn’t help it.”
“Thought about me while touching yourself?” You earned a nod from Harry in response. “Thought about you too when I’d have my toy sucking on my clit. I always pictured it was your perfect lips playing with me. I would moan your name too. I had to. I could only get off when thinking of you.”
“Who knew you were so dirty?” Harry chuckled, pressing his tongue against the inside of his bottom lip. “You’re so fucking sexy, Y/N. My little minx.”
You couldn’t help but giggle at that, but you nodded as well. “Just yours. Only want to be yours.”
Your hand began to work him faster, and you moved your free hand down to swipe your fingers along the precome that was continuously dripping onto your stomach. Harry’s eyes were glued to your every move, and you bit down on your bottom lip as you smeared his arousal over his lips before slipping your fingers between your own.
“So yummy,” you commented as you held his eyes. “I can’t wait to taste all of you.”
“Fuck,” Harry groaned before licking over his lips. “You’re going to make me come.”
“Please,” you mimicked your plea from earlier. “I want it all over my tummy.”
“Want me painting your skin with my come?”
“Again, I need you to,” you moved your legs around to where one of Harry’s toned thighs was pressed right against your covered cunt.
You began to rock your hips back and forth, a hardy moan flooding out of your throat as you did so. Your clit was throbbing - begging for attention as your hand continued to glide up and down Harry’s prick.
“Oh my god,” Harry gasped, and you looked up just in time to see his eyes shutting again with a slack jaw. “For fuck’s sake.”
It was then you felt his come shooting out, coating your stomach and even reaching up to your breasts as you rode him through his orgasm. Once you knew he was finished, you couldn’t help but tighten your hand once more, and you watched as you milked another string of come from him.
“Jesus, Y/N,” Harry dropped his forehead against you, but he kept his torso hovering yours.
Still mesmerized by his load on your stomach, you didn’t even notice his hand had slipped between your legs until you felt his fingers gliding through your drenched folds - your underwear tenting around his hand.
“Oh,” you whimpered, tossing your head back. “Feels good.”
“Barely touching you, baby,” Harry chuckled as he used his index and middle fingers to spread you apart - the pad of his thumb pressing down against your pulsing clit.
You moaned as he began to move his digit in circles, and your eyes followed him as he leaned down. Sticking out his tongue, he licked over your nipples, cleaning up his come as he sucked on them. It caused you to clench down around nothing, and you could feel yourself growing wetter by the second.
“Yes,” you gasped as his teeth grazed against the pebbled bud.
“Like having your little nipples played with, honey?” Harry asked, smirking up at you. “Pretty little things they are. I knew they would be. Pretty nipples, and a pretty pink pussy. Never seen something as pretty as you in my life.”
“And I’ve never seen something as pretty as you,” you breathed as he started giving attention to your other nipple as well.
Soon his mouth had worked to clean all of his come off of your skin, and it was then that he moved his hand around to have his middle and ring fingers slipping inside of your welcoming entrance while his other hand pulled your underwear off.
“Christ, Y/N,” Harry groaned, shaking his head. “You’re so fucking tight.”
“It’s been a while,” you confessed as you bucked your hips up against his hand - feeling the heel of his palm against your clit.
“How long?” Harry began to move his fingers with more purpose, and you choked as a moan got stuck in your throat.
“Three…three years.”
Harry’s movement stilled, evoking a whine from you as you snaked your hips around.
“You’re serious?”
“Yes,” you swallowed, using this little pause to try and catch your breath. “Haven’t had anyone since my last boyfriend. I don’t go out much, and I don’t like dating apps. I haven’t really had the opportunity to meet anyone.”
Harry leaned down to massage his lips against yours briefly before pulling back - knocking his nose against yours. “I’m about to give your the best fucking of your life, you understand?”
Another moan left you at his words, and you nodded. “Please.”
Harry’s fingers left you, and he got off the bed to walk over to his wallet on top of the dresser. You watched as he retrieved the square foil package from it before he climbed back onto the bed over you.
“You’re sure about this?” Harry asked. “This…this changes everything.”
“I’m sure,” you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Harry. I know that I want this.”
“I’ve wanted you too, Y/N. You have no idea how badly.”
You heard the sound of the package opening, and you looked down to watch Harry roll the rubber over his length - him having grown fully hard once again.
“Ready?” Harry lined himself up with your entrance, and you felt his head pressing just lightly against your fluttering hole.
“Yes, yes. Please, fuck me.”
With the angling of his hips forward, Harry’s tip entered you, and you groaned as you felt him stretching you completely.
“Gotta relax, honey,” Harry’s hands reached down to massage your hips. “Breathe in with me. I’ll count. One, two, three, four, five.”
You each let the deep breath back out, and he smiled down at you.
“Again,” he instructed you, but this time, he began sinking his length inside of you as he spoke each number. “One, two, three, four, five.”
Eventually he bottomed out completely, sheathed inside your warm cunt, and you felt yourself clench down around him.
“You’re so big,” you whimpered, nails digging into his biceps. “Never had anything this big inside me before.”
“Never? Not even a toy?” Harry asked as he drew his hips back before thrusting in again.
“No,” you shook your head. “My biggest is hardly half your size. I’m not the biggest fan of dildos or vibrators. My suction toy gets me off just fine.”
“Well, I don’t think you’ll be needing that too much anymore,” Harry laughed as his hands now cupped your breasts. “I’ll make sure you’re satisfied every damn day.”
He gave you three aggressive thrusts as he spoke those last three words, and you felt your eyes roll into the back of your head. “Yes.”
“That sound good to you, baby?” Harry started up a steady pace - his balls slapping against your rear entrance as he did so. “Have you coming on my fingers, my tongue or my cock every day? You’re never going to go without, understand?”
“Mhmm,” you mewled, arching your tits further into his palms. “I understand.”
For a few moments, only soft moans and heavy breathing filled the room, accompanied by the sound of your skin slapping together as Harry satiated your sexual hunger. You had never been fucked like this before in your life. He was taking you with such precision - each of his thrusts filled with a purpose. The purpose being to get you off by any means necessary.
“You know what else I’ve thought about?” Harry asked after capturing your lips in a brief kiss. “Thought about taking you in my office, especially on those days where you wear those tight pencil skirts, or those flowy dresses, and I think about bending you over my desk - taking you from behind.”
“Yeah?” You stared up at him. “Thought about taking you at work too. I thought about - uh - riding you as you sit in your desk chair, and I wouldn’t even care if people heard. I see the way Darlene in marketing looks at you. I’d want her to know it was me who got to have your cock.”
Your words caused Harry to give you an extra hard thrust, and you could feel his tip punching against your most sensitive spot.
“I would hope they all hear,” Harry tilted his head down, spitting against your clit before beginning to use the tips of his fingers to play with it. “Hope they all know it’s me who gets to fuck you this good.”
“Promise me,” your hands found their way to Harry’s back, and you dragged your nails down his skin. “Promise me you’ll fuck me in your office first thing Tuesday morning. I’ll wear my prettiest underwear - just for you.”
“Better be just for me,” Harry growled as he smacked your wet pearl. “I’m the only one who gets this cunt now.”
“The only one,” you agreed. “I don’t want anyone else. Just you.”
“And I only want you. God, I can’t believe this is happening right now. I’ve finally got you underneath me.”
“Want to stay underneath you,” you babbled as you felt heat pooling in your lower stomach. “Harry, I’m close.”
Harry’s fingers applied more pressure to your clit, and it was then that your orgasm washed over you. You could feel yourself gushing past Harry’s covered cock - your body trembling as your knees squeezed against his hips.
“Oh my god,” your head lulled to the side as you started to come back down. “I’ve never come so hard in my life.”
“Look so pretty when you come,” Harry shook his head, still not believing that he was seeing you like this. “It’s a fucking honor to see something as gorgeous as that.”
You started to lift your hips up to meet his movements, and you could feel yourself clenching down around him again. If he kept this up, you’d definitely be having another orgasm before you were finished.
“You feel so good around my cock, Y/N. Never had a cunt fit me so perfectly. Take a look.”
One of Harry’s hands cupped the back of your neck, and he sat up just a bit as he pulled your head up. You peered down, spreading your legs further as you watched his thick cock glide in and out of you.
“Look at that,” you bit down on your bottom lip, a whimper leaving you as you couldn’t find it in yourself to look away. “Just clinging to you, huh?”
Harry hummed in response, and you could feel his thrusts growing a bit uneven. “I’m about to come, baby.”
“Me too. I’m going to come again, Harry. I want you to come with me.”
After a few more thrusts, you felt absolute pleasure blanket over you for the second time, and you watched as your orgasm coated him completely. It was then you looked up to see Harry’s face contorting once again, and this time he looked even more glorious than before as he emptied himself inside of the condom.
Making sure that you both rode your highs out completely, Harry continued his movements for just a few more seconds before he collapsed on top of you.
Your bodies were sticky with sweat as you clung to each other, and your fingers played with the hairs at the nape of his neck. This all felt so right - that the both of you were exactly where you needed to be in each other’s arms
You opened your eyes when you felt Harry’s head tilting up, and you both smiled at each other. “Hi,” he said, fingertips dipping into the ridges of your ribs.
“Hi,” you giggled, and you saw his face brighten even more at that. 
“I missed that sound,” he told you. “It’s one of my favorite things.”
“Well, I think you’ll be hearing a lot of it now,” you smirked, pushing some of his curls off his forehead.
“I can’t wait.”
Harry gave you a quick kiss as he pulled out, and he helped you into the bathroom before giving you privacy to clean yourself up. He discarded the condom in the trash can before slipping back into his joggers.
Once you were out of the bathroom, Harry’s eyes ran over your naked form as you approached him. You threw your arms around his neck to bring him down for another kiss as Harry rested his hands against your hips.
“So, I guess now if someone at the bar asks if you’re my boyfriend, you don’t have to lie this time,” you teased.
“Oh yeah?” Harry’s smirk that you’ve come to love so much crept its way into his lips. “So, I’m your boyfriend now?”
“Mhmm,” you hummed. “If you want to be.”
“Are you kidding me? Been dying to be able to say that and actually have it be real. I wanna fucking tell everyone that I’m yours, but I’ll make sure we’re careful at the office. It’ll all work out.”
You both shared another kiss before you just hovered your lips over his.
“So…round two?”
785 notes · View notes
animekpopsimp · 9 months
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The Strawhats React to You Being Shy but Very Strong
Luffy
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Luffy first met you when you were just trying to go about your day
He was in the middle of a fight and he had accidentally bumped into you
Normally, you didn't like confrontation but you were getting annoyed
Luffy was shocked when you ended up punching one of the pirates who was trying to attack him
You sent the man flying, and he was amazed
When the fight was finally over, Luffy begged you to join his crew
Though, as soon as things calmed down, you were embarrassed that you had drawn attention to yourself
At first, you refused his offer, just wanting to live a peaceful life
Though, deep down you did want to explore what was beyond the island you called home
Luffy kept asking you to Join him, impressed by your strength
Finally, you gave in, admittedly tired of the mundane existence you had gotten used to for so long
Luffy would keep asking how you got so strong, but was surprised when you told him you were born with it
You admitted that people treated you poorly because of it, so you learned to keep to yourself
You can bet he's encouraging you to open up and always reminding you that your strength isn't a bad thing
Zoro
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He doesn't notice your strength when you first join the crew
He notices how shy you are, but he doesn't question Luffy's decision to have you be a part of their group
However, when the two of you are surrounded one day, he finds out why his captain was so impressed by you
He watched in shock as you helped him take down the men surrounding you, not even using a weapon
It didn't take long for the both of you to win the fight
He wanted to say something about your fighting skills, but decided to wait until you got back to the ship
He thanked you for helping him, and complimented you on your abilities
You were touched since most people feared you because of your strength
You found a new friend in Zoro, and he respected you
Nami
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Nami admittedly didn't think much of you at first
She didn't know what you were capable of, but that didn't matter
The two of you became fast frieds
Though, one day when the two of you were exploring the newest island the crew had found, you encountered some marines
Nami was worried since she wasn't sure how well you could handle yourself in a fight
However, she was surprised when you started beating up the marines
They could barely manage to get a hit in on you
Once the fight was over, you both ran back to the ship
She told you how cool you looked when fighting
You were honestly a little embarrassed by all the compliments she was giving you, but appreciated them none the less
Nami asked you to train her since she wanted to improve
The two of you became close and you helped her out a lot
Ussop
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He %100 looks up to you
Ussop tries to make up stories to impress you
You listen, even if you know they aren't true
He asks you to train him, hoping he can be as tough as you
Also, he will hide behind you during fights, begging you to protect him against stronger enemies
You're often the one encouraging him to be brave, even if he doesn't want to
He tries his best so you won't be disappointed in him
You're like a big sister to him in a way
For that reason, he feels really close with you, especially since he doesn't have any family he's close with
Sanji
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This man thinks you're the coolest woman in the world
He thinks you're beautiful and on top of that you're strong
He's simping hard
Compliments you all the time, he just thinks you should know how highly he thinks of you
When it comes to social situations, he's always there to back you up
When it comes to fighting, he knows you're more than capable of handling yourself
Though he will keep an eye on you during fights, just in case
If you do get injured, he always makes sure you get treated, no matter how small of an injury it is
Sanji's in love
Chopper
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Chopper already looks up to pirates
And in his opinion, you're one of the coolest ones he's met
He watches you fight with an awestruck look in his eyes
He's amazed that someone so shy can be so strong
He'll ask how you got that strong, and is surprised to hear that you were just born that way
He's upset when he learns that people treated you differently because of it
In his eyes you're just a normal person who happens to be super strong
He relates to being treated badly by people around him, so the two of you bond over that
1K notes · View notes
tomorrcwz · 2 months
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✰ TO BUILD A HOME, L. HAMILTON
[ preview ] Lewis has grown softer, more domestic and slighty more protective of you since knowing you're having a baby, and you're absolutely loving it whenever you shower together or travel to races.
[ tw ] pregnant female reader, showering together (but not sexual!!)
[ req ] hi can I request for lewis. Where y/n is pregnant and him being so protective and domestic and soft with her. No smut if possible just fluff. You may add some angst if u want thank youu
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. previous | masterlist .
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home | the domestic side of him
The day starts off fairly normal as Lewis gets up before you, gently kissing your forehead that causes you to shuffle closer into his touch, and tries to move Roscoe, who's tangled between your arms, to go out for a quick morning jog. Through the dog has other plans, lowly growling at him, a sign that he much rather spend time in your presence — you have always shared a close bond but since falling pregnant, rosc wouldn't leave your side, even before Lewis or you knew of the baby. It's endearing to your partner, seeing you with his first child, all cozy in the family bed.
So Lewis decides to go on a jog alone which doesn't take him more than half an hour. He much prefers more being home with you and he has undertake the task of making you breakfast and shower your hair, something he has never realised could be so romantic and domestic. There was a time you both showered together but it was after having sex or to have a quickie, however it was never with the pure intention of taking a shower to get clean and fresh to start the day. But he loves the change, and he likes to take care of your hair, be it massaging your scalp, de-tangeling or whatsoever. And he's quite serious about styling your hair to whichever style you prefer.
In fact he hopes to get very good at it to do his child hair's, through you say he's already unbelievable fantastic with his fingers and claim that he has the eyes for it. You'll giggle and exclaim happily of his hidden talent, and talk on and on about how he should be a hair stylist after ending his racing career. His response is without a doubt everytime the same. "Get your facts straight, pretty girl, I'll only do your and our children's hair", to which you'll react with a shy smile and an i love you. You truly mean those words. There's no one you've ever met in your life that has captured your heart like him, takes your breath away like him, touches you like him and loves you like him. He's passionate about life and your romance, never backing down when your relationship hits a rough place, is strong willed and loves deeply. Loyalty, trust and communication are the big three in your love bond, and you push each other every day to the best version, to feel confident and appreciated.
The man besides you is your equal and you're his, without a shadow of a doubt.
You can confidently speak of each other as your home because home is not a place but a person and Lewis is your person and father of your unborn child. Its the truest form of love and peace, comforting and warm, healthy and free. With him, there's no pressure, he stands throughout every problem on your path, let it be work or small silly things like a broken flower pot — he'll offer his companionship, idea and listens, doesn't matter if he actually has the time to do so with racing and media stuff going on, he makes the time.
Its funny actually which lengths you go for another without being married — something that irritates your father greatly as he believes you have to put a ring on the finger when you love someone this way. He can't understand how it's working for you and Lewis but he reluctantly respects it. Has to, he has no other choice because Lewis and you are endgame as Charles, your man's future teammate, mumbles whenever he's joining you for lunch or a small getaway. The monegasque has a soft spot in your heart.
Returning home, Lewis is still catching his breath as he steps up the stairs towards your bedroom. You sit there, Roscoe's head on your thight as you turn a page over your newest reading over, eyebrows knitted together in wonder of what's going to happen to the protagonist. A certain calmness flots the room, the lightness of the sun dips you in a glow and Lewis thinks you look like a mystical goddess. He really broke every possible imagination and desire with you, his darling pretty girl.
"Good morning, pretty girl, slept well?", he asks, moving forward to give you a kiss on the lips. You're welcoming it, hands looping around his sweaty shoulders as he sits down next to you, tilting your head to the side to get better access. "Slept very well but missed waking up next to you", you pout after breaking the kiss, "want to shower together, handsome?"
"Thought you'll never ask", he laughs,"up you go." He stretches his hand for you to grab, helping you sit up and then stand on your feet. Then, unexpectedly, one of his bulky arms wrap around your middle and the other under the back of the knees, manhandling you in his arms. You squeek like a little girl but you recover fastly, mushing your face between the space of where his shoulders meet the neck, and nip on the skin playfully. Lewis' grip only tighten, smacking a kiss on the crown of your hair.
In the bathroom, he puts you down with ease, watching you carefully while doing so. "Everything's fine baby, thank you for your service", you mutter sleepily, the corners of your mouth lifted. Wordlessly, he takes the hem of his your t-shirt, waiting for your consent to pull it over your head. It makes your heart flutter — after all this time Lewis is still a gentleman. "Please do it", you consent, arms in the air. He does and he also removes your shorts and underwear before getting nude aswell and taking your hand in his to guide you to the shower.
Said shower is large and has a small seating space, something Lewis insisted on adding when you announced your pregnancy. It's an incredibly good investment and lifts up the shower space.
Lewis takes the showerhead and turns on the water, waiting for it to hit the temperature you like (and doesn't burn him) before rinsing his body hastily and wets your body and roots of your hair. After that he puts the showerhead into the intended holder in a way it waters your head and stands right in front of you, stomachs touching. You look him in the eyes, leaning in. "Give me a kiss", you plea, lips puckering for his to meet yours.
"Only because you asked so nicely", he mumbles, breath fawning over your face, causing heat to creep up your cheeks. Without asking, Lewis takes the shampoo bottle out of your hand. "Let me do it", he says softly, gazing concentrated on the blop of clear shampoo in his hands, which he then rubs in his hands, causing it to bubble.
You peek his cheek, grabbing his body shampoo and massage it into his skin, his broad shoulders first and move on to the abs, only stopping when Lewis fingers work the product in circular movement into your hair.
"Can't wait for breakfast", you sheepishly declare as your stomach rumbles loudly, breaking of the quiet humming you have started since his hair are in your hair. "What's on the menu today, Lew?"
"I made blueberry muffins yesterday—"
"With chocolate on top?", you interrupt him, excitement glistening in your eyes as you drown in his rich brown ones.
"Yes, knew you'd want them like that."
Smile lines draw in the corner of his eyes, and dimples show, and maybe, just maybe, you fall in love with the man in front of you a little bit more — if that is even possible.
"Oh I love you", you hum, feeling the water spray on your head to wash the shampoo away. After, Lewis applies conditioner to the ends of the hair.
"I love you", he sincerely answers, and he truly means it, you can see it in his eyes and body language aswell as the feeling — the whole vibe of the room screams of love. You can't explain it but it is the truth. "And the little one", Lewis continues, hands leaving your scalp as he bends down to kiss your bump, taking away your breath with how loving he is.
Back in 2008 when you first met, Lewis wasn't delicate and even in the beginning of your relationship it lacked, resulting in you feeling not as appreciated as you should've been — the man had been too focused on his job and was wild in a sense that sometimes made you slightly uncomfortable. You in return couldn't communicate openly, scared he'd break your heart in thousand pieces, and let him get his ways. It took you a while for opening up, growing together and fall in love even more. But all the pain and stress paid off, now you can't imagine not walking those milestones of growth hand in hand.
"Might be a house-husband after 2026 and make you stay at home too. We could have more children if you want, and enjoy retirement together with our babies."
Its truly a dream, however you know that this is not going to be your future in a few years yet.
Shaking your head to the side, you signal him your answer. "No baby, you'll race your car to the top and gift our baby the eight championship trophy, alright? You can't just stop your passion, I won't allow it", you firmly share before taking on a much calmer tone . "But I'd like to not work for a while, take care of the babe and visit you whenever we're ready."
"I don't even know if I want to keep racing but you can't definitely stay home and maybe write that book you always wanted to."
"You have enough time to decide, don't pressure yourself, okay?", you hush, relaxing as he untangles the knots in your hair.
A low sigh vibrates in his chest. "Okay."
"How do you even know I write on a book?"
Lewis stiffles a snicker. "I'm your man, of course I know when you're up to something and you have said to the Lilys that you're working on a novel based on formula one. Hope it is inspired by me, pretty girl."
"And if it's inspired by the rising star Ollie Bearman?", you tease, making him laugh.
"Both of us know that the books about me or the technical stuff", he responds in confidence. "Have to say, you really do love that kid, huh?"
"He's a great kid, and so young", you stretch the 'o' of so long, "really want to pinch his cheeks whenever I see him."
"He is and you're such a mum to him."
"Ollie says I'm his grid mum which makes you his grid dad. Ain't that cute?", you tell him, closing your eyes as he rinses the conditioner off and puts body gel all over your body.
Your partner doesn't reply but you know how much he likes the brit, going as far as giving him tips for his f2 season. To you it's another confirmation that he's capable of having children.
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Australia | the protective side of him
After ranting on and on of how you are still allowed to travel by plane, Lewis gave finally, even though he was visibly not alright with it, but he shut his mouth to hinder upsetting you. The pregnancy demands enough of you already and he doesn't want to be the person, who's taking away the fun. Also he's selfish, wants to have you and your unborn child by his side as long as possible.
But in his mind roams the thought of if you would've been better off in England with your families around to keep you company as he races against time, trying to be home as much as his job let him. He despites the many races on the calender that keep him away from his family that consists of you, his lovely girlfriend, the baby inside you and his first child Roscoe. Truly devastating.
Currently you gather everything you need for the day, stuffing a pack of tissues, lip balm and whatnot in your colourful totebag, Lewis had bought you in Mexico last year because he thought it was fitting and now you carried it everywhere you could. Somehow the colours blend quiet nicely with your outfit that considers of a fan made vintage styled shirt with his name, racing number and face on, and a pair of black pants. Between the space of your collarbone rests a necklace with the number 44, something quite possessive — revisiting the memory, Lewis can't help but bite his lips.
Two days before taking you to your first ever red carpet, the fia gala, a rather stupid man had flirted with you as you were waiting for Lewis to finish up business. You had worn a lovely dress, causing his eyes to follow your ever movement as you separated from him to get a drink (he wanted to rip that dress off you later on, too) and then that man came onto you, smirk etched on his face, trying to lure you in a conversation. In that moment Lewis felt incredible jealous and promised himself to mark you somehow — to which you unknowingly agreed as he gifted you a necklace with his number on it. To you the gesture was very lovely, a promise of being each others keeper, but to Lewis the necklace bought him satisfaction and calmed his nerves.
"Don't look at me like that, Lew", you laugh, catching his gaze in the mirror as you put on your earrings.
"Don't know what you mean, pretty girl", he husks, eyes fixed on your butt. Those pants show your curves off and if it wasn't for the time pressure, he'd spend the day in bed, loving you.
"You're a horny bastard", you mutter, catching him stare. "My ass looks great it them pants, no?"
"Sure thing", he mumbles, crossing the room to give you a hug from behind, chest pressing against your back, making you all mushy. He gently lifts your bump and you hum happily. It feels unbelievable good.
"You should do this everyday, baby."
A sigh tumbles in your boyfriend's throat as he sees the time of the clock — you're already behind schedule. "I should. 'M sorry to break it to you but we have to go now, pretty girl."
You moan. "Don't want to, this is so much better."
"I know", is all Lewis says, letting go of your bump before grabbing your chin to face him. You closed your eyes when his lips crash down on yours, the scent of his perfume filling your nostrils. The scent isn't too strong and is fairly new because you can't stomach the old one. "Love this perfume so much", you share after breaking the kiss, foreheads touching.
"Better be, you've chosen it, pretty girl. Let's go, hm?"
"Okay if you insist."
Arriving at the paddock, you're quick to lose Lewis to his engineer for a quick snack, you know the paddock club makes. The walking takes you just under ten minutes, but it's long enough to make you slightly sleepy again, a regular occurrence that started back in the early stages of working full time. The pregnancy only adding a bit to it.
As you stand waiting in line, you strike up a conversation with vcarbs reserve driver liam lawson, a funny guy, and let him vlog your conversation with the promise of him paying for your snack. The talk is all silly, your chest heaving strongly as he cracks another joke.
Though the vibe breaks when a man rushes besides you, shoulder bumbing against yours forcefully and sending your body stumbling into the driver, who's quick reflexes save you from a nasty fall.
Regulating your breath and removing your hand from Liam's arm, your anger comes through. "What a fucking wanker, next time I'll see him he'll fly straight in those bushes." You point to your left where a row of yellow blooming bushes sit in pots.
Liam's booming laugh attracts the attention of a few guests but neither of you care. It takes him a minute or two to stop, however the amusement is still painted on his face.
"Understandbly, call me if it happens, yeah?", he says, moving up to order himself a coffee and your snack. "Can I put this in my vlog?"
"Yes why not", you shrug, sole focus on the vegan treat in your hands.
"Let's go back to Mercedes, y/n, don't want Lewis to rip off my balls if he gets to know this situation."
You agree and guide him to your man's garage, greeting the buzzing flow of employees and fans alike. A smile adores you face as you make your way to Lewis, grasping Liam's arm in the process, causing some people to raise an eyebrow and the kiwi to blush slightly under their stares.
Sliding under Lewis arm to shuffle closely to him, he wordlessly accepts, listening to Bono's rant. He doesn't even notice the blonde kid next to you, way to absorbed into Bono's talk.
Eventually he does greet you, kissing you till a tiny moan escapes your mouth, and looks away from you, eyes falling on the Kiwi, who's side is pressed to yours — right besides him isn't any space left, just the wall and he guesses you must have pushed him into the space. It doesn't make him less dominating, arm pressing you further into his side to create more space between them, and he grabs the necklace to correct the way it lays, so the 44 can catch the attention if anyone is stupid enough to look at your tits in his presence.
The younger man doesn't react to his attics, but he's respectfully keeping his distance.
"Hey man, all good?", greets Lewis, handshake included.
"Nah yeah, fine."
Shallowing your bite of the treat, you bring up his vlogging. "And then he promised to buy me this in turn for vlogging our conversation. Maybe I should do that too, your fans would love it, Lew", you gush.
"We could, but we shouldn't. Want to keep you all for myself, pretty girl of mine", he mutters into your ear, hot breath fawning over the sensitive skin, "won't share what's mine."
Heat creeps up your neck and you're glad your hair isn't styled up today.
"You silly man", you giggle like a school girl, loving how he calls you his.
"I don't want to interrupt you by whatever you have going on but I wanted to tell you Lewis, that some cunt, shouldered her. Nothing happened, I catched her, but you should know", Liam rants, waiting for the older man's reaction while your wide eyes hang on your man's face, which morphs into a harden expression.
"Thanks Liam for telling", he grinds his teeth," because this one", he sends you a pointed look, "wouldn't have told me."
Swallowing, the kiwi presses a no worries mate and steps away, probably going back to his garage. Meanwhile you wait for Lewis' lecture and he doesn't disappoint. "You should've called, y/n, how often do I have to tell you that? If something happens, you instantly call me and I'll answer."
Before he can get really into it, you speak up. "Liam was there, wasn't he? He helped me and I'm not hurt, see?" You move your arms to let him inspect it. There's no sign of bruising.
"He was but next time you'll call, okay? I don't care if anyone is there to help you, you will call me, okay?", he voices his demand. "Don't want anything to happen to neither of you."
"Fine", you huff, face mushing into his muscular chest.
"And don't bring any boys here."
"Not fine", you groan, "he's like a younger brother. Fucking annoying but can't wait to send gifts for the baby and us."
Lewis stays silent, angling his body to hug you fully, and peeking your head.
The loudness of the race weekend suddenly quietness and all he hears is your relaxed breathing, that comforts him like nothing else can.
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rageserenity · 2 months
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It's 2024. Are you still thinking about movieverse!Cherik? Because I am.
For the past several months, there's only been a very slow trickle of posts/fics in the xmcu cherik tag. Let's try to breathe some life back into this incredible pairing!
With one clear winner of my poll, here's thirty prompts for the thirty days of April. (This is a super chill, laid-back event---do these in any order, interpret them as loosely as you like! Create in any medium! Fic, art, gifs, meta, incoherent screaming about the otp…all winners in my book.)
The only rule here is to cherik too close to the sun. Alright. Here are the prompts.
Mutual Pining
Doesn't really even need elaboration! Write that horrifically slow slow-burn. Gif every time McAvoy made insane fuck me eyes on screen. Make a playlist of songs about impossible love.
2. Alternate Meetings
There are endless quotes about how these two complete each other in a way no one they'd met before or after ever did. How else could they have met?
3. Erik Has A Telepathy Kink
This is basically canon. Let my boy get freaky!
4. Canon Fix-It
All the times Fox fucked it up. There are endless options.
5. Hurt/Comfort
Put them in that Situation. Put them in that Blender. Break them apart and put them back together ❤️‍🩹
6. Canon Compliant
Draw that missing scene! Gif your favourite cherik moment!
7. Beach Divorce
Make it worse. Make it better. Show it to us exactly how it was. Break it down in a 3,000 word meta. Go wild!
8. Domestics
Sometimes you just want to see them doing normal couple things. Erik put the gun down.
9. Found Family
The real heart of x-men!
10. Time Travel
There are SO many possibilities here. Stick them in a time loop. Give them a chance to change their past.
11. AU
Love a good AU!
12. There Is Only One Bed
Had to get this one in here. What better way to amp up the tension?
13. Genosha
By some miracle, cherik actually did end up together at the end of 2019s trash bag disaster Dark Phoenix. We aren’t making a big enough deal about this.
14. Declaration(s) of Love
Who says it first? How do they say it and when? Have they said it…without saying it?
15. Jealousy
Need I say more.
16. Reunion
These two have absolutely no chill.
17. Soulmates
Classic prompt, had to get this in here too.
18. The DOFP Aircraft
The TENSION here. Break it down for me. How does Charles feel about his injury? How does Erik feel about his injury?
19. Gay Mutant Road Trip
You already know.
20. Body Swap
SO fun when people have superpowers.
21. First Kiss
When? How? Who initiated it?
22. The Mansion
Mansion!content is a genre of its own.
23. Conflicting Ideology
Give me your theses. Who’s right? Can they ever reconcile completely? Write a fic where it drives them apart.
24. Sebastian Shaw
A trope unto himself.
25. Team As Matchmaker
They had to have known something was going on, didn’t they?
26. Cooking
Charles deserves a good meal. Also, imagine Erik using his powers in the kitchen. The sheer domesticity…
27. Hurt No Comfort
Plenty of scope with these two 🥲
28. Growing Old Together
Giving Sirs Ian Mckellan and Patrick Stewart their props as well!
29. Making Up
*pushes chess board across the table* sorry babe
30. Charles Xavier Did More For Mutants Than You'll Ever Know
Rising to each other’s defense. Only I can insult this man.
I will be tracking #revivecherik to reblog stuff! Here’s a fic collection for the same. Let’s get this ball rolling! Please feel free to send me an ask if you’ve got anything to say! And most importantly, let’s all have fun 😁
*I know a few of you preferred something like a gift exchange because of the commitment factor—I’m super down to organise a tiny one for the handful of us! If this promptathon doesn’t flop horribly, we can hopefully do a whole bunch of stuff :)
If you read this post all the way through, please reblog for reach! Thank you! Hoping you participate come April.
Shoutout to @inmymagnetoera for reaching out and helping with this!
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allfearstofallto · 3 months
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Okie so we've had childe meeting scara's wife, but what about scara meeting childe's wife for the first time? If not can we hear more about the first one?
- 🍓
You are so right strawberry!! My dumbass really forgot that I could write the scenario going the other way!!
Scaramouche Meeting Childe's Wife
Yandere Childe! x reader x Yandere(?) Scaramouche
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After almost a year of Childe fawning over you, the look of disinterest his coworker gave you was rather refreshing. The man, only a head shorter than Childe and obviously much more frail looking, had a scowl that could kill. You wondered how long it took to get a look that aggressive, but somehow still elegant on his delicate features.
“And this is my lovely wife!” Childe said rather excitedly and the man merely rolled his eyes.
“It's very nice to meet you,” you muttered softly, he didn't have much in the way to say back. Despite the cold of Snezhnaya he was wearing a shirt that barely went down to his elbows, shorts, and sandals. The cold of Snezhnaya wasn't normal, it felt like the air was biting you. You couldn't even leave the house without a few good layers, yet here he was walking through it with ease, “You're not dressed well for the weather.”
Another glare was shot your way, his eyes colder than the snow, “Skip the pleasantries. I'm here because I have to be. Don't pretend you want to speak with me.”
You didn't even dare look at Childe after the man spoke. He was always so quick to anger, especially when it came to you. Childe had very few loyalties in his life, one of them being the Tsaritsa, the other being you. He often told you how easily he could and would turn on anyone else if needed be, and it seemed this coworker was going to be no different.
“Number six,” you could hear that he was forcing the words through gritted teeth, “Perhaps I wasn't clear when I told you that I love my wife more than anything in this world.”
“You were clear. But perhaps I didn't care,” the man was bold, you'd give him that. And despite how rude he was being he still walked further into the home, taking off the large ornate hat he was wearing and letting you finally see how beautiful his silky, indigo hair was.
Childe followed soon after and the two of them went to talk. You could already tell that he wasn't completely friendly with this coworker, out of the many you'd met. You knew more harbingers than the average person did in a lifetime, more than you wanted to as well, but this one was the first one you'd seen be blatantly disrespectful.
But as they sat and chatted amongst themselves about missions and quite honestly, things you didn't understand, your mind still thought about how underdressed the man was. There was no way Childe would let him stay overnight, not with the way he was acting and Snezhnaya only got colder when the sun was down. You didn't want to just send him out into the elements.
“Could you bring me a spare jacket, and maybe some snow pants and boots,” you asked a maid and she was quick to drop what she was doing to scurry off and find things for you. In less than thirty minutes, everything was handed to you, neatly folded.
The meeting only lasted two hours and both Childe and his co-worker were leaving the office. You wondered if he ever got sick of scowling so much. Or if he ever even showed interest in anything at all.
Childe was walking faster than usual, probably trying to quickly get the man out of the house, but you stopped him, holding up the clothes that you'd acquired. The way both men looked at you made your heart sink to your ass, your orange haired husband had so much fury in his eyes from your kindness to the other, but didn't stop you.
“It's…it’s just cold out there,” you muttered, hoping that Childe would understand your explanation. He allowed the other man to take the clothes, a gentle smirk on his face.
Throughout the whole day, you'd never seen him with anything but his usual frown, you weren't even aware that he could smile, “Such thoughtfulness. I see why number eleven is interested in you,”
The door to the home was opened and the man ushered out. He was still holding the items you'd given him, not wearing them, but you didn't want to tell him to stop. Not while Ajax was looking at you so angrily. You didn't want to cause even more misunderstandings.
“Scaramouche,” he said while still walking out the door. You must've made a noise of confusion because he elaborated, “I'm called Scaramouche. And I'll see you soon.”
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ja3yun · 3 months
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Melting Point | P.SH | CH.5
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brother's rival!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: fluff, angst, confrontation, minhee lovers i am so sorry, no smut this chapter, injury, anything else lmk ch.5 synopsis: life is good for you and sunghoon after you become official, yet, things take a drastic turn very quickly, and you're stuck between love and loyalty. wc: 12k previous | masterlist | next a/n: hi! so this is where the shit gets real icl. i loved writing this chapter honestly, it holds a place in my heart but tbh, the whole series does. not many warnings or whatever and i don't want to spoil anything here so...enjoy! likes, reblogs, feeback are all welcome as always <3 thank you so much for the support, ilyasm.
As you flip through the pages of your Successful Event Management book, your attention wavers, consumed by thoughts of your boyfriend. Despite your efforts, the words on the pages seem to blur together as your mind dances with images of him. Each time the realisation hits that he's officially yours, you find yourself involuntarily twirling a strand of your hair, unable to contain your giggles or the playful kicks of your feet. It's almost unsettling how deeply he occupies your thoughts, and now that you can call him your man, it's as if the intensity has multiplied tenfold.
Over the past week, Sunghoon has been immersed in training, preparing for Nationals, leaving little time for your usual moments together. But you understand, what with Nationals coming up, he has to be prepared for it. Your understanding doesn’t mean you don’t miss him any less though. This time apart has been the longest you’ve gone without seeing him in the past 4 months and it feels agonisingly long.
It’s just past October and you probably missed him most at Halloween, wishing you could have dressed up with him and gone to Rina’s party together, but he couldn’t cancel the trip to Japan he had. If it were any other schedule, he would have blown it off but everything had already been booked, he just couldn’t get out of it.
You loved your boyfriend's willingness to drop everything for you, even if it was often unnecessary. When you told him you nearly broke your ankle while walking down Rina's stairs in 6 inch heels and a bottle of Pinot in hand, Sunghoon instantly left his training and came to check on you. You told him about the incident so you could both laugh at how stupid you are but he didn’t find anything funny, not until he saw you were okay and giggling with Rina as if nothing had happened. 
That’s one thing that’s slightly changed since becoming official, Sunghoon is way more protective of you. Truth be told, he’s always been protective, he can just showcase it more now.
You adored him in every way a person can be adored. All his flaws, all his perfections, he was all yours.
A ping from your phone pauses your idle daydreaming.
My Hoonie ♡
9:10pm: look outside
It’s ominous but you can't resist the pull to glance out the window. Swirling out of your desk chair, you're met with the unexpected sight of Sunghoon, grinning from ear to ear and waving animatedly, as if beckoning you to join him outside.
Why the fuck is he here? He normally texts you to meet him at the corner of the street so he’s out of sight of your family.
Keeping Sunghoon a secret has been surprisingly easy these days, given how rarely you saw Minhee. You sent your brother a play-by-play of what occurred at the ceremony, along with a few pictures, but he hasn't spoken to you since his brief 'Nice' text response. You tried to initiate a few conversations with him about it, asking if anything was bothering him, but he just replied he was busy with training.
He no longer takes you to train with him, but you can't put all the blame on him; you've been telling him you're too tired for weeks to accompany him; he probably just assumed you'd keep saying the same excuse.
You missed him even though he was only across the hallway.
You quickly put on the jumper Sunghoon had given you, grab your phone, and slip on your shoes as you prepare to make a discreet getaway. With your family still inside the house, you turn the front door handle with full caution, making no sound as you sneak out to meet Sunghoon.
"What are you doing here?" you whisper urgently as you greet him.
Sunghoon brings you in for a kiss while his hand cradles the back of your head, answering your question with his actions rather than his words. He missed you, that’s all there was to it. 
"Are you free?" he murmurs against your lips, his kisses lingering, "I want to take you on a date."
You pull back slightly, taken aback, "A date? Why all of a sudden?"
"I realised I haven't properly treated you to a date," Sunghoon admits, a tinge of guilt evident in his tone. The ill-timing of officially becoming a couple and his intense training schedule for Nationals made it look like he was putting in no effort now that he had you. He never intended to spend less time with you, it’s just what happened. 
You lean back to look at him sceptically, “We’ve been on plenty of dates, Hoonie.”
"Shh, just let me take you out, please?" he playfully feigns annoyance, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes.
Looking back at your home, you consider the options available. On one hand, there's a mountain of tasks awaiting your attention now that the new school year has kicked off. On the other hand, there's the tempting prospect of spending time with your beloved.
Was it even a question?
"Do I need to change?" you ask, casting a critical eye over your attire: his hoodie, some well-worn leggings, and slightly battered shoes—hardly your typical date ensemble. Sunghoon inspects you, pinching your leggings to rub the fabric thoughtfully, “What are you doing?” you ask quizically, raising an eyebrow.
"Just checking the thickness," he replies, turning you around and lifting the hoodie slightly to inspect the material covering your butt. "They'll do," he declares, giving your ass a playful slap to signify the end of his examination. "I have a pair of your other leggings in my car. We could layer," he suggests with a grin.
You don’t have a clue what he’s planning but it can’t be good. 
Sunghoon interlocks his fingers with yours and walks you to his car up the end of the street. The air is growing cooler now that it's early November, so all you can do is sigh with happiness as you take your seat in his warm car. 
With the early November air turning crisp, you sink into the warmth of his car seat, unable to suppress a contented sigh. Over the past few weeks, Sunghoon has allowed you to personalize the interior of his car to your heart's content. 
It started with a simple addition—a plush teddy bear seatbelt cover to cushion the strap that always seemed to bite into you. But it quickly escalated, evolving into a display of your quirks and interests: stickers adorning the glove compartment, a bobblehead of Cinnamoroll dangling from the dashboard with a matching Tuxedosam counterpart on his side, and even a change in the air freshener scent from ocean breeze to peony and cherry blossoms. Each addition is a testament to your bond and the little ways you've woven your lives together.
His life was covered in you, and he has never been happier.
Since the award ceremony, Sunghoon's skating demeanour has noticeably lightened, shedding the weight of perfectionism now that he has your unwavering support echoing in his ears and he knows you mean it because when he glances over to you in the stands, he sees the pride in your eyes. Coach Lee has commented on it a couple of times, saying how his Nationals performance might be his best yet and to keep up the good work. With you by his side, Sunghoon finds joy in skating again, rediscovering the passion that initially drew him to the sport.
"So, where are we headed?" you inquire, fastening your seatbelt and tuning into the radio.
Sunghoon starts the car and pulls away, his hand resting reassuringly on your thigh, "You'll find out soon enough," he replies cryptically. Normally, surprises catch you off guard, leaving you feeling unprepared—an impromptu birthday party is one thing, but this unexpected adventure is an entirely different story.
He chuckles at your attempt to decipher his plans, giving your leg a playful squeeze, "Sweets, I promise I'm not leading you into a cornfield and abandoning you there. You'll enjoy it, I swear."
“A cornfield is so specific, now I don’t trust you at all”  you tease, your tone laced with mock suspicion, though there's a hint of genuine curiosity beneath it all.
As the drive progresses, a sense of familiarity settles in, and when the car pulls up at Belmore, you twist in your seat to face him. "Belmore?" you query, eyebrows raised in surprise. His only response is a knowing nod, a roguish smirk playing on his lips.
"Baby, no offence, but watching you train isn't exactly my idea of a romantic date. And if it ever did count, I think we've been on far too many dates for only being together a month," you point out with a playful yet pointed look.
Sunghoon parks the car and switches off the engine, turning to you with a grin, "So, you don't consider our friends-with-benefits phase as being together?" he counters, raising an eyebrow. "Because technically, we've been together for like four months."
"No, our 'fuck buddy era' definitely doesn't count," you retort, stepping out of the car.
"That's a shame," Sunghoon muses, a playful glint in his eyes. "I had grand plans to whisk you away for our six-month anniversary in January. I guess I'll just have to enjoy Jeju on my own," he shrugs nonchalantly, locking the car before striding towards the main building, gym bag slung over his shoulder.
You quickly fall into step with him, looping your arm in his, a gleam of merriment in your eyes. "Well, I suppose we could round it up to four months," you offer, hoping he was just joking about going himself.
You're not about to let the opportunity for a trip with your man slip through your fingers, even if he's just teasing. You've been dropping hints about wanting to hike Hallasan Mountain and go tangerine picking on Jeju Island so often that he's actually started a 'Jeju Jar' where you contribute money whenever you mention it.
Sunghoon graciously holds the door open for you, and Miss Barbara's cheerful wave as she recognises you only adds to the excitement bubbling within you.
Miss Barbara has been in on your little secret love affair since you made it official, her only bribery she requested to keep it a secret was a bag of Revels on top of her usual Toffee gift. 
"Hi, Miss Barbara," you greet her warmly as you approach the reception desk.
"Hello, Y/N, Sunghoon. How are my favorite forbidden lovers?" she exclaims with a twinkle in her eye, settling back in her chair.
Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head. "It's not quite as dramatic as you make it out to be, Miss Barbara," he replies with a good-natured smile, though the receptionist waves off his comment. She's fond of weaving your relationship into a romantic narrative, a tale of two star-crossed lovers defying societal norms to be together. It's a bit over the top, but it gives her something to gush over.
"We're doing well. Is anyone in there?" you inquire, grateful for Miss Barbara's discreet support. With her on your side, it's easier to gauge just how obvious your affection for each other can be. While you don't hide your love in everyday life, at the rink, you're more cautious. The last thing you need is for any of the coaches or, heaven forbid, your families to catch you in a moment of intimacy. That could set you both back to square one.
Keeping it a secret until after Nationals wasn’t just for the benefit of Minhee, but also for your own sanity. If one of your mothers found out, that would be it, you would never hear the end of it. 
“Nope, all free. Coach Kim just left and not another soul in sight.” Miss Barbara confirms.
"Thanks, Miss Barbara. This was a spur-of-the-moment thing, so we'll make sure to bring you double sweet treats tomorrow," Sunghoon promises, knowing full well she's eagerly anticipating her goodies.
"Triple and I'll let you in on a little secret," she counters, arms crossed expectantly. Sunghoon nods in agreement, intrigued, "The coaches are planning to bring you and Minhee in tomorrow for peer review and a Nationals run-through, to ensure you're both in top form for the competition in two weeks. It's a new method they want to try to strengthen your connection, especially since you're both going to be on the same Olympic team," she reveals, her tone filled with anticipation.
Your eyes widen in shock as Miss Barbara's words sink in. "Wait, Minhee and the Olympics?" you repeat, the idea sounding both fitting and surreal at the same time.
"Oh yeah, he's been putting in a ton of hours here, especially in the last three weeks. Coach Kim believes he's more than ready," she confirms with a knowing smile, leaning in conspiratorially. "But shh, it's a surprise. The coaches plan to break the news to him when he places in the top three at Nationals."
The news hits you like a wave of emotions. It's beyond perfect - your brother finally achieving his lifelong dream after years of hard work and dedication. A sense of pride and happiness swells within you, threatening to overwhelm your senses.
Suddenly, you get a strange feeling because the more you think about how excited you are for him, you realise Miss Barbara has just said he's here a lot, but you didn't know that. Although you may not have seen him recently, you should be aware that he is spending his time here. You used to know his entire schedule.
“Was my mum here with him?” you inquire, a hint of concern in your voice.
"No, he's usually by himself or with Coach Kim. Didn't he mention it to you? I was wondering why you haven't been with him like usual," Miss Barbara explains, her tone sympathetic.
Sunghoon notices the discontent written across your face, assuming it's because of the impending peer review with Minhee tomorrow morning. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he gently guides you towards the rink. "Thanks for the heads up," he acknowledges gratefully.
As he leads you into the arena, you can feel the excitement draining from your shoulders, leaving you feeling deflated. Sunghoon hates seeing you like this. He wishes he could simply pluck the negative thoughts from your mind and replace them with happiness, but all he can do is offer distraction.
"Sweets, wait here for a minute," he murmurs, planting a kiss atop your head before darting off to the back rooms to fetch some necessary tools for your impromptu date, leaving you to wonder what surprises he has in store.
A few minutes later, Sunghoon returns, his excitement palpable as he practically skips towards you, hands hidden behind his back. The mischievous glint in his eyes sends a shiver of apprehension down your spine, "Sunghoon, what's going on?" you inquire warily.
He stops in front of you, a wide grin spreading across his face. "You aren't going to watch me train," he announces, revealing a pair of pristine white ice skates and a deep blue helmet from behind his back, which he then presents to you, "I'm teaching you how to skate."
The look on your face is one of absolute shock. You have already told him how your mum had tried to get you on the ice when you were little and it wasn’t pretty, you can barely walk in the skates never mind glide on the ice. Did he forget this was the one thing you explicitly said you couldn’t and wouldn’t do?
Noticing your lack of enthusiasm, Sunghoon's arms drop to his sides, a hint of disappointment flickering across his features. "Come on, it'll be fun! I'm a great teacher," he insists, trying to persuade you. Taking the skates from his hand, you inspect them apprehensively, feeling a surge of fear at the sight of the gleaming blades.
"Look, baby," Sunghoon begins, his voice softening as he places a hand on your shoulder. "You've mentioned how you never took to the ice well, but it occurred to me today that maybe that's because your mum had all these dreams about the Kang siblings dominating the figure skating world. That's a lot of pressure for a seven-year-old. But this... this is just for fun. A simple, free lesson from South Korea's greatest skater who promises to never shout or get impatient with you," he reassures, placing a hand over his heart in a solemn pledge.
It’s true you suppose, there would be no need to feel a weight on your shoulders to be as good as Minhee or have your mum telling you how easy it was and that you just weren’t trying hard enough. 
The sparkle in Sunghoon's eyes only adds to your resolve to give this a shot. He wants to share his love for the sport with you, and you can't help but feel touched by his enthusiasm. If he's willing to keep both feet firmly on the ice, then maybe, just maybe, you can brave this adventure.
"Fine, but I'm not jumping under any circumstances," you bargain with a playful glint in your eye. The last thing you want is to end up flat on your back on the ice. If Sunghoon can promise to keep you grounded, then you'll give it a try.
Sunghoon’s face radiates with glee once you accept his date idea, which is good for him because he doesn’t have a backup. He sits you down on the bench and helps you put on the skates, fastening them tightly. He goes over the warnings every skater gets about new skates, and how they need to be broken in so they might nip at the skin. He’s already tried to stretch them out for you by making Wonyoung wear them for a little while when she warmed up. 
Once both of your skates are securely laced up, Sunghoon swiftly puts on his own, his familiarity with them evident in his speed. He's had these skates for a year now, and they've never failed him.
"Put your helmet on, babe," he instructs, handing it to you. You look at it with disdain, but he catches your expression and intervenes, "I get that it's not glamorous, but the last thing I need is for you to smash your head open," he reasons, gently placing the helmet on your head and fastening it securely.
"I don't want to fall in the first place!" you protest.
"I will always catch you, I promise," Sunghoon reassures you, leaning in to press a kiss to the top of your helmet, as if it were your head. He offers a gentle smile, "Plus, the rink just got Zambonied, and they'll be peeved if you dirty up the nice ice with your blood."
"Sunghoon!" you exclaim, a mix of exasperation and affection in your tone.
______
Seventy minutes into the lesson, and you've only stumbled twice. The first time was when you initially stepped onto the ice, resembling one of those cartoon skits where the character can't find their footing and begins flailing everywhere. The second stumble occurred when you attempted to march in place, a simple task that somehow became a challenge on ice. Despite Sunghoon's assurances that you couldn't fall, you seem determined to prove him wrong, even in moments like these.
Nonetheless, you have made progress. Sunghoon has painstakingly taught you how to forward glide and perform a snowplough stop, which seemed impossible given your previous difficulties on the ice. Granted, he's been hovering only centimetres behind you the entire time, waiting to catch you if you fall, but progress is progress.
Now, he's introducing you to forward swizzles, a manoeuvre with a deceptively cute name that you're convinced spells disaster for you. With Sunghoon's reassuring grip on your arm, he explains the technique. "You're just going to do a forward glide and then kind of push your feet outward and then bring them back in a circular motion. Like this," he demonstrates, making it look effortless.
Of course, he makes it look like it’s the easiest thing in the whole world, like using a knife and fork, but he's dealing with a girl who can't even distinguish her left from her right or drive a go-kart without crashing it. This venture into forward swizzles feels like a daunting challenge, but with Sunghoon by your side, you're determined to give it your best shot.
Sunghoon skates to face you, taking both of your hands as you attempt to master the forward swizzles. For the most part, you're actually not too bad at it. But as confidence starts to swell within you, you let go of his hands, only to teeter dangerously on the edge of a fall once more.
True to his word, Sunghoon is there to catch you, his grip firm and reassuring.
Determined to get it right, you take a deep breath, calming your racing heart, and try again. Sunghoon can't help but admire you in this moment. Most people would have thrown in the towel by now, but he knows you're doing this not just for yourself, but for him too. It's a realisation that fills him with a profound sense of affection as he watches you concentrate intently, your tongue sticking out in concentration as you execute a few more forward swizzles with his assistance.
"That's it! My girl is so good at this," he praises, but you shoot him a pointed look. It's not angry; it's more of a silent plea for him to refrain from speaking and distracting you while you're focused. Understanding the cue, Sunghoon promptly stops talking, allowing you to concentrate.
As you cheer and sway joyfully, a surge of euphoria washes over you, you're briefly swept up in the exhilaration of your performance. But the laws of physics are unwavering, and the slippery ice beneath your skates is unforgiving. Without warning you lose your footing and collapse hard onto the ice, your head creating an unnerving thud as it hits the icy surface. Maybe the helmet was a good idea.
"Shit, Y/N!" Sunghoon's voice rings out in panic as he rushes over to you, his expression etched with concern. He kneels beside you, quickly assessing your condition and helping you sit up. Despite the impact, all you can do is laugh. What was once a terrifying prospect - falling on the ice - is now a source of amusement.
"I'm okay," you assure him between fits of laughter, patting the helmet atop your head. "Thank god for this piece of shit helmet, that's all I'm saying." But Sunghoon's expression remains tense, his worry evident, "It's okay, baby, I promise I'm fine. Let's take five, hmm?" you suggest, reaching out to stroke his cheek in a comforting gesture.
Sunghoon nods silently, sitting beside you on the cold ice, both of you ignoring the chill seeping through your clothes. He removes his gloves and places them on your hands, a small but tender gesture that sends a flutter of warmth through your stomach, despite the icy surroundings.
"You're actually pretty good at this, Sweets," Sunghoon compliments, taking your helmet off.
But you brush aside his comment, a question that's been nagging at you for a while now finally bubbling to the surface. "I have a question," you begin, ignoring his compliment. "Why do you call me Sweets? Like, you've called me that since you started skating here."
Sunghoon's face flushes with a deep red blush as he gazes up at the rafters, gathering his thoughts. "I've been calling you that for a lot longer than that," he confesses quietly.
"What do you mean?" you press further, turning your body to face him, curiosity piqued. For all the time you've spent together, you've never questioned the origin of the endearing nickname.
He exhales softly, a nostalgic grin spreading across his face as he begins to reminisce. "Do you remember when you were 14, and you confessed to me with a packet of sweets and a makeshift card?" The memory floods back to you, each detail vivid and clear. "You came up to me at one of the Youth competitions and gave them to me - a packet of Love Hearts, I think.” You want to protest but the more he speaks about it, the more the memory comes back to you.
Back then, you had mustered up all your courage to ask him out after years of secretly admiring him. You knew it was a long shot, considering Sunghoon was the most sought-after skater in the Junior division, but you took the chance anyway. You had even dressed up in your best outfit and attempted makeup—a slick of lip gloss from a teen magazine and a touch of mascara you'd pilfered from your mom's makeup bag.
"You knocked me back!" you exclaim, feeling a surge of offense, "I poured my heart and soul into that card, and you didn't even spare it a glance. I remember now!"
Sunghoon shakes his head defensively, "I did look at it! And I ate the sweets too," he tries to argue back, but the realization only seems to deepen your offense, "Wait, no! I know I said no, but... I had my reasons, okay?"
"Oh yeah, what?" you challenge, shaking your head sassily, eager to hear his explanation.
"I... It doesn't matter, does it? Look who won?" Sunghoon smoothly redirects the conversation back to the present day, "You've got me whipped for you."
You raise an eyebrow, conceding that he does have a point. He is your boyfriend now, albeit five years later than you originally wanted—or eleven years, if you count all the time you spent pining over him as a kid.
"Exactly," you agree, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. "If you told fourteen-year-old Y/N Kang that Park Sunghoon would be desperately in love with her now, I think she'd pass out." 
Silence.
Deafening silence.
Sunghoon stares down at his skates, eyes wide and mouth dry. The weight of his confession hangs heavy in the air, catching both of you off guard. He hadn't anticipated the words to spill out so spontaneously, and he's never felt more vulnerable in his life.
Park Sunghoon loves you. He is in love with you.
The arena seemed to vibrate with the weight of his confession, wrapping you both in startled stillness. You can't comprehend it - Sunghoon didn't just say he loved you; he confessed to being desperately in love with you. The enormity of his admission takes your breath away, bringing back memories of your 14-year-old self, who would have had no idea how to deal with such a discovery. Even at 19, the reality of his love has you spinning.
"You love me?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, unable to tear your gaze away from the ice beneath your feet. The words hang in the air, heavy with disbelief and wonder.
Finally, Sunghoon meets your gaze, his own expression a mixture of apprehension and hope. Seeing the beginnings of a smile tug at the corners of your lips eases some of the tension in his chest. He had thought his love for you was obvious, but he had never found the courage to say it out loud before.
"I do," he affirms, his voice soft but unwavering.
“How long?” you inquire, stealing a glance at him.
Sunghoon chuckles softly, a playful gleam in his eyes as he picks up the helmet and spins it in his hands. “Ah, I can’t tell you that,” he teases, “If I do, you’ll never get your head back in this.” His laughter lightens the mood, but you're not satisfied with his evasive response.
Snatching the helmet from him, you firmly place it back on your head. “See, now you can tell me. It still fits, and there's even a little room,” you declare, shaking your head to demonstrate how loose it is.
Sunghoon reaches over to fasten the helmet again, his laughter mixing with yours. His fingers linger on the strap, tracing it until he reaches your chin, gently tilting your head to meet his gaze. “It's been a long time,” he admits, his voice soft but earnest. The more animated your expression becomes, the more the doubt that lingered in his mind fades away.
You don't hesitate to seize the moment, pouncing on him and knocking him back onto the ice. Your chest presses against his as you pin him down, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss that steals the air from his lungs. Both of you are grinning like fools, reveling in the warmth and intimacy of the moment.
But there's still one final piece missing from this perfect moment.
“I love you, too, Sunghoon,” you whisper into his mouth, your words laden with sincerity. You hope he can feel the depth of your feelings, knowing that you're not just saying it out of obligation but because you truly mean it.
“It was me, by the way,” he admits sheepishly, catching your curious gaze. You silently prompt him to continue, which he happily does “The sweets my dad gave you all the time? I asked him to give them to you. You looked so miserable one day that I gave up the packet of Haribos my dad would sneak me. After I saw your face light up, I told him to just keep giving them to you instead.”
Your heart feels like it could burst with joy. Why hadn’t he told you this before when you brought it up at the cafe? “Why did you do that?” you inquire, searching for an explanation.
Sunghoon just shrugs, playing it off, kissing you on your nose to distract you from asking any more questions he wouldn’t be able to answer. 
You look at each other and exchange sweet, short kisses on each other's lips. The moment is filled with innocence, and pure love surrounds you. But as the rink's ice starts to seep into your bodies, you both realise that, while the kisses and giggles warm you up, the frostbite on Sunghoon's ass is getting a little too much.
He stands, offering you a hand up, which you gladly accept, trying not to wobble. His lips find yours again within seconds, whispering ‘I love you’ over and over like it's a sacred mantra. Even as he picks you up and spins you around, the words never falter.
Your feet dangle in the air, suspended and untethered, a sensation that terrifies you but this whole situation is. Being in love with someone as deeply as you are with Sunghoon, anyone would find it a little scary - that’s even taking out the impending conversation you’ll need to have with Minhee. You can’t believe someone like Sunghoon is even in love with you a little bit. You counted your blessings every day that he even bothered to spend time with you or ask you to be his girlfriend, this was just surreal.
“We should go, yeah? Especially if I have to show up your brother tomorrow,” he suggests, setting you down gently.
“Sunghoon, be nice to him tomorrow, yeah? Don’t provoke him. This is important for him,” you plead with him, your voice laced with concern. All you want is for Minhee to come out of tomorrow's session feeling confident and ready. If your boyfriend starts to poke fun at him, it'll only serve to undermine Minhee's focus and now that he has a chance to go to the Olympics, he needs to feel confident, not taunted.
Sunghoon follows you as you carefully skate off the rink, back to the security of the grated mats outside. “I’m going to give him the critique he needs, brutal or not,” he says, his tone tinged with frustration. Sitting on the bench, he begins to remove his skates. He knows you don’t mean it to sound this way, but your phrasing made it seem like tomorrow wasn’t as significant for him. A whole run-through of his routine in front of everyone to determine if he's ready for Nationals? That's just as crucial for him as it is for your brother.
Ridding yourself of the devil skates you massage your feet. You have a greater respect for anyone that has to wear them for more than an hour, “And that’s fine, but don’t be a dick about it. This could be our chance to sway his opinion of you and make telling him about us easier.”
“Well, are you going to tell him the same thing? Because he isn’t exactly friendly towards me either,” Sunghoon counters. He can't argue with your logic; building a bridge with your brother would make things easier for you both. However, he isn’t willing to let Minhee berate him without standing up for himself.
You sigh, feeling deflated by the conversation already, wondering why you even brought it up. “Sunghoon, please just be the bigger man here, for me. Can you do that?” you ask, your voice pleading.
Putting his blade guards back on with a forceful gesture, he lets out an exasperated groan. “No. I will do anything for you, Sweets, but I draw the line at letting him walk over me,” he asserts firmly.
“I’m not asking you to do that,” you insist, gently pulling his face to meet yours. “If he’s rude to you, you can defend yourself, but just don’t take it too far or say anything unnecessary, especially about his skating.” The tone in your voice, combined with your touch, begins to soften the tension in his body. He grudges how much of an effect on him, “Please? Because you love me?”
He sticks his tongue into the side of his mouth and swipes it along his inner lip, “Wow, are we playing that card now?” You nod, and a satisfied smile sits smugly on your face. It was a low blow, you know that, but when push comes to shove. Inhaling deeply he agrees reluctantly, “Fine, I will be nice to him. But it’s in no way is it for his benefit, I’m doing it for us.”
You’ll take it. It’s a start and every reconciliation has to start somewhere, “Thank you, baby.” You press a smooch to his cheek and stand up, locating your shoes and putting them on.
Glancing at your phone, you notice it's past 11pm and there are a couple of messages from your mom. She's letting you know that you can't stay at Rina's tonight because Coach has requested Minhee's presence tomorrow morning, and she wants you to be there too. And you want to be there, because right now you feel a little like a shit sibling missing out on his training when it used to be the one activity you looked forward to together. 
And he’s been all alone the whole time. What was going on with your mum these days? She would rather die than miss a Minhee schedule, even if it were just practice. 
Sunghoon hugs you from behind, reading your messages, “Don’t tell me the witch is cock blocking me?” 
That’s the other thing about him being your boyfriend, you’ve started to open up to him a lot more about your relationship with your mum and how thin the bond is. You told him about her moving you out of your old room to make way for Minhee’s trophies, how she made you skip Rina’s birthday to attend a dinner with a potential sponsor when you didn’t even have to be there, and so many other unfortunate occasions.
Sunghoon was seething each time you spoke about her because you’re her daughter, you’re meant to be the joy of her life and it sounds like you’re just an inconvenience. Truthfully, you hadn’t paid much mind to it before you said all your woes with her out loud, but Sunghoon doesn’t see it as casually as you do. 
“Guess tomorrow morning is officially happening then,” You say, messaging back a quick ‘okay’ to your mum, “I’m sorry, Hoonie, I can’t come back to yours,” You rest the back of your head on his shoulder as his grip gets tighter around you.
“Sweets, it’s okay. I just wish I got to fuck you good after I proclaimed my undying love for you finally,” he kisses down your neck, “Guess I’ll just need to take you home after I wipe the floor clean of your brother.” 
Angrily, you turn around, “Any more of that and you’ll not only not be able to fuck me, you’ll also be single.” You’re not messing about and Sunghoon knows it.
“Sorry,” He winces, rubbing your arms, “Force of habit. I promise tomorrow I will be on my absolute best behaviour!” he kisses you but you don’t kiss him back, still trying to keep your annoyed demeanour. “Aw, c’mon, baby, don’t be like that! I promise skaters honour and all that.”
“You better be, Hoonie,” you warn him, finally giving in and kissing him back once, just to let him think he can’t get away with it that easily, even if he can. 
As you walk out of the arena, he follows you, stooping down to whisper, "You're kinda sexy when you're mad like that." You know he's only half-joking, so you don't play into it because if you do, he'll make you angry more often since he knows you aren't able to stay angry. Instead, you say your goodnights to Miss Barbara and make your way to his car.
He’s a piece of work, but you wouldn’t have him any other way. You love him exactly how he is.
_____________________
Applying the last finishing touches of your makeup, you check yourself out. Today was a big day, so yes it’s a little extreme to get dolled up at 5am on a Wednesday, but you’re seeing Minhee and Sunghoon skate their Nationals routines in full today, so what’s not to be excited about?
If anyone had told you that today you would feel no nervousness about the both of them being so close to one another, you would have told them to pull the next joke out of their ass. There was no way that could happen but it is and Sunghoon promised to try and be civil with your brother. So now all your worries are on them and their skates. 
You’ve seen Sunghoon’s routine countless times, so you know what to expect, but Minhee was a whole different story. It still irks your heart that you haven’t seen your brother train, you feel awful, truly. You just need to cheer for him extra loud today.
You grab your tote bag, which has some extra panties since you're spending the night with your sweetheart, and head out of your room. His roommates have joked that you’re moving in since you’ve left so much stuff at his place including a toothbrush, clothes, shampoo and conditioner, and even a spare book to read if you wake up before him in the morning. Not like you meant to, just over time it happened.
As you reach the bottom of the stairs, you hear Minhee and your mum whispering about something, but it’s hard to make out the conversation. Carefully tiptoeing towards the kitchen, you hold your breath, trying not to make a noise. They don’t normally whisper, especially not at this hour, so whatever they're discussing must be important.
“I can handle it, Mum, I told you,” Minhee's voice is heavy with sadness. Has he always sounded this despondent, or are you just overthinking?
“Good. I've invested too much for you to Cave now. When we get there, you know what you need to do, right?” What is Minhee supposed to do? Cave doing what? What does he have to do? Skate?
There are so many questions that need answers just by this snippet of conversation. You press your back to the wall of the hallway to make sure you stay hidden, hoping for any sort of clarity.
“Mum, I said I got it.” he snaps back and leaves it there, packing his bag, “Did you let Y/N know about today?”
“About the run-through? Yes, I told her.” your mum pours herself a coffee into her reusable cup.
Minhee rubs his eyes, clearly exhausted. Now that you’re getting a good glimpse of him after a few weeks, he looks a lot thinner and the circles under his eyes are a deeper shade than normal, “I told you not to tell her, she doesn’t need to be a part of this,” he zips his bag and slings it over his shoulder.
Does he not want me to be there for his skates anymore? Is that why he hasn’t invited me?
You can’t make head or tail of the conversation or what they mean, but the last thing you want is for Minhee to shut you out. 
“Oh, Y/N there you are,” your mum spots you, foiling your plan to eavesdrop.
At the sound of your name, Minhee tenses, pausing in his tracks for a beat. He was acting so strange, it made you hurt for him. Your brother was so lively and now he looks like a shell of himself. 
Putting on a cheerful facade to conceal your concern, you approach Minhee and casually swipe half of the banana from his hand, as you would normally do. If he were his usual self, Minhee would protest loudly, demanding you to get your own fruit. But instead, he simply hands you the rest without a word.
“Both of you hurry up, we need to go,” your mum whooshes past you both and heads for the front door, leaving you and Minhee on your own.
“Hey, are you okay?” you ask, quiet as a kitten. 
Minhee nods his head once and brushes by you, not even glancing at you. The relationship you have with him is now feeling like you’re strangers. You don’t know what spurred this change on but you have a high suspicion it’s because of you.
Obviously, you don’t want it to be, but you haven’t really spent time with him recently or supported him the way you should have. He probably feels neglected, something you never want him to feel.
Taking hold of his wrist you stop him before he exits for the car, “Mini, I’m sorry for not being at your training sessions. Miss Barbara said that you’ve been going to the rink a lot, I should have made it to at least one of those.”
“It’s fine, Y/N. I don’t need you there.” 
That hurt. A lot. 
He finally glances down at you and sees your eyes flash with hurt, “I’ve been going spontaneously, you’ve been busy with school and…Rina. Our schedules don’t fit anymore,”  he plays it off but you’re his sister and you know he’s hiding something deeper in his nonchalant words.
Pulling his wrist from your grip, Minhee goes to the car, leaving you a lot more concerned for him than before.
As your mum pulls up to Belmore you see Sunghoon’s car already here. He must be getting in the practice he missed last night because of your date. You would feel guilty about it if it wasn’t his idea.
When the engine stops, there is a weird tension in the air as everyone has gone into covert mode. You want to break the silence but you can’t fathom what to say right now. 
"Minhee, I'm feeling good about today, do well," your mother says. Despite her words of positivity, her expression portrays a different mindset, as if she is just saying what she knows she should.
Placing your hand on his shoulder, you grin at him, "Do your best, Mini, that's all anyone can ask," He smiles back at you, acknowledging your words. What's strange is that he takes your hand and squeezes it, his eyes fixed on yours. Sibling communication is turned on; you just can't understand what he's saying to you.
Walking into the arena is a completely different vibe from last night, no peace to be found. The coaches are happily chatting about their prodigies; it’s nice to see them getting along considering they were also pushed together through this blending of rinks. You wished the same for Minhee and Sunghoon.
Speaking of Sunghoon, he isn’t anywhere to be seen, he’s not on the ice like you thought he would be. 
“Minhee, go get changed, me and your sister will be over there,” your mum points to the same two seats you’ve both occupied for over a decade, “Don’t fuck it up, I’m serious.”
How can she be so harsh? 
Minhee simply waves you both off, shoulders slumped. While you watch him retreat to the changing room, you scowl at your mum, a toxic taste in your mouth at how rude she is being. At the end of the day, Minhee was always her favourite child, and now she can’t even be bothered with him.
Deciding he can’t go out with those being the last words he hears, you excuse yourself and walk in the same direction. You say your hellos to the usual staff as you go into the back hallway, scouting the place for your brother.
Without warning, you’re being pulled back and pinned to the wall. You almost scream until you feel those perfect lips that belong to your boyfriend, smushed against yours. 
Perplexed by his actions, you look around to see if anyone saw you. Fortunately, you were hidden enough, “Hoonie! What are you doing?” 
“I needed a good luck kiss, that’s all,” he smirks, “What do you think?” he draws back and shows you the outfit he was planning to wear at Nationals and your natural reaction is to gasp.
The royal blue silk shirt was basic, but you knew it would spring to life once he got on the ice, and his black slim trousers had crystals embroidered down the side as well as all around the bottom, the gems a mix of white and three shades of blue. He really fits the description of Ice Prince.
Spinning around on his tippy toes, he awaits your response. He felt good in it like he was one hundred percent ready.
“You look like you belong in a museum,” Gawking at him, you cover your mouth, you haven’t seen him look so handsome in any skating costume before, “Why are you wearing it just now?” 
He shrugs, “Coach thought it would be good to see how it holds up since I went with a new designer,” he smiles, rubbing up and down his torso. The material feels so good, he’s grown a habit of touching it whenever he can, “I’ll need to thank Karina when I’m done.”
“Huh? Why?” 
“You’re looking at a Yu Jimin original, I’ve been told she’s going to be famous.” Sunghoon grins at your surprised face.
Your best friend made this outfit? Her talents never failed to amaze you but she had never let anyone wear the clothes she made, not even you unless she was sampling. How on earth did he pull this off? 
Inspecting the costume more carefully, you see Rina’s signature stitching aka the first one she learnt and stuck with because she can ‘always make it work’ and to be fair, she does. It really was hers and your boyfriend was wearing it. 
But she would never do it out of the kindness of her own heart, “How much did she charge?” you ask worried, Rina could easily have bumped up the price since it was Sunghoon, milking him of the money she knew he had.
“Not a penny,” He stands proudly, but you know him, and you know your best friend, so you give him a dubious look, “Well, it didn’t cost money, I gave her a matching Tiffany ring and bracelet set.” He throws the sentence out as if the jewellery didn’t cost 4 times the wages you got this month.
“Hoonie, What the fuck?” 
"Nah, I got these for free a while back. I was planning to gift you them for your birthday." Wearing a playful smile, you tilt your head back as you absorb the unexpected information of your given-away gifts. Sunghoon instantly becomes aware of what he's just confessed. "Then I realised you're worth more than free jewellery and I swear when I gave her them, it was in the most 'I don't love you, this is just to get on Y/N's good side by winning you over' kinda way." 
Sunghoon bats his long eyelashes after he stumbles over his words, nervous you might get the wrong idea. You didn’t though, you know he’s only got eyes for you. 
It does make you laugh and think about how lucky you are, “Thank you for trying to get along with her,” you leave out the jib about it being your supposed gift because you can see how hard he is trying. 
Sunghoon wants to be a part of your life, that much is evident, and he’ll do anything he can to integrate himself peacefully, cautious to not disrupt too much. Rina was an easy win because as soon as she saw the trademark Tiffany Blue boxes she was on his side. Plus, the chance to have her first-ever design worn on a televised competition wasn’t really an opportunity she could pass up.
“I just need to win over Minhee now,” he says, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and drawing you closer. But as you remain unresponsive, lost in thought, his concern grows. "Sweets? What's wrong?"
Your mind is consumed by the events of the morning with Minhee. It gnaws at you - his lack of confidence and timid nature seems perplexing, especially given Miss Barbara's assurance that he's practically a shoo-in for the Olympic team. If there ever was a time for Minhee to exude self-assurance, it's now.
Sunghoon shakes you a little, bringing you back, “Sorry, baby, I need to see Minhee.”
“Is everything okay?” Concern is painted on his face but you can’t let him worry over something that doesn’t involve him.
“It’s fine. Good luck out there,” you pull him for an unintentionally long kiss. He melts against you, using his arms to bring you into him, hoping his touch will give you some sort of comfort. Even if you don’t tell him right now, he knows when you’re ready, you’ll let him in on what has you this way.
Stepping out of the hiding spot, you briskly walk to the changing room to find your brother. You don’t want to cast a shadow over his day, not when this performance meant so much for him, but the anxiety and concerns embedded in your body need to be aired. You need to know what’s going on.
As you approach the room, Minhee is just walking out, head hung low. 
He quickly spots you and his eyes stretch wide, “What are you doing here?” he looks around urgently before looking back at you. 
“I just wanted to talk to you. Mum was way out of line back there and I needed you to know I’m proud of you, no matter what happens. You’ve worked so hard and I know how much this skate means considering it’s basically your ticket to the Olympics, and that’s always-”
Minhee interrupts you, “Wait, pause, what do you mean Olympics?” 
Shit. You had to tell him now, you couldn’t backtrack such a monumental piece of information.
“Miss Barbara told me that Coach Kim said you’re ready for it, and if you pass this and make it to Nationals, you’ll be offered a place on the South Korean Olympic team.” You blurt it all out at once and the smile on Minhee’s face grows bigger and bigger with each word.
“You’re not fucking with me, are you?” he asks, his tone in disbelief.
Shaking your head, you mirror his vibrant smile, “No, you’re a shoo-in!” 
Suddenly, Minhee picks you up and squeezes you tight, laughing lightly. You shouldn’t have let it slip but seeing the sadness wash away from him was worth it, even if it ruined the surprise. Coach Kim is so confident in his abilities, and so are you, you just needed Minhee to believe it too.
He puts you down, running his hand through his hair, still processing the good news. Minhee whispers to himself how he can’t believe it. You’ve watched him work tirelessly for this since you were kids, and you also saw how disappointed he was when he missed out on the Youth Olympics, so seeing him now at 20 practically being offered a place on the team is a dream come true for both of you. All you’ve ever wanted was for him to succeed.
Looking behind you, Minhee’s face drops again. As you look to see what caused the sudden change, you see Sunghoon walking towards you both. For the first time in 4 months, you didn’t want to see him right now; Minhee was finally in better spirits and you can’t have Sunghoon ruining it now. But he promised to behave, to take the high road, so you trust him to do just that.
Sunghoon stands beside you, his hand goes to sit on your lower back instinctively but he catches himself, pointing to the rink instead, “Coaches asked if you’re good to go or if you need a warm-up?”
You can’t lie, you’re proud of Sunghoon for not making a snide remark about how Minhee would need the warm-up. It’s tiny, but it’s progress.
Glaring into his eyes, Minhee doesn’t say anything, biting his lips into a thin line and nodding in acknowledgement. 
What is up with him today? You know why Sunghoon is being a bit nicer, but where is Minhee’s sarcastic quip?
“Can I get in there?” Sunghoon gestures to the changing room, “Left my skates,” You move to the side but Minhee doesn’t budge, “Are you seriously going to make me walk around you?” Sunghoon scoffs.
Again, Minhee doesn’t move but you know it’s not in a defiant way, his face isn’t giving you the normal ‘I hate Sunghoon’ look, it’s giving you more of a concern concealed by a deadpan face kind of vibe. Strange. 
Sunghoon isn’t as attuned to your brother's emotions, so he takes offence to Minhee’s resistance to move and pushes him out of the way, “You’re pathetic, Kang.”
You bite your tongue down hard, trying to suppress the anger bubbling inside you. Although Sunghoon warned you already that if Minhee provoked him, he would snap back but he didn’t have to call him pathetic. 
Minhee clenches his jaw and fists, trying to calm himself down. You take the opportunity to rub his arms, soothing him a little, “Don’t listen to him, Mini. Go out there and do your best, yeah? Remember what I told you.”
“Yeah, I know, I’m basically going to the Olympics.”
“No,” you smile softly at him, “I’m proud of you, for everything you’ve achieved and everything you will,” Stepping to stand beside him, you push him towards the rink. The words might not mean anything to him, but you say every syllable with as much sincerity as you can. 
He takes off his blade protectors and skates onto the rink, doing a few laps to warm up. Seeing him glide across the ice, practising his jumps with ease. Miss Barbara was right, he has improved a lot and that’s saying something considering he was already one of the best skaters.
Sunghoon walks up beside you, his skates in one hand as the other takes yours, giving it a quick squeeze before he lets go, joining his coach on the other side. It was a quick moment no one would be able to see but Sunghoon saw the opportunity to touch you for luck just one last time before he had to pretend you meant nothing to him. The sooner you both tell Minhee, the better.
Going back to your seat next to your mother, she doesn’t spare you a look before asking where you went but you don’t bother answering her, choosing to focus your energy on Minhee. He takes his spot in the centre and shifts into his starting pose. He looked so elegant on the ice, even in his sports athleisure. You wonder how much begging and bribery it would take for Rina to make him a costume for his Olympic performance.
Coach Kim gives him a supportive thumbs-up as the music begins. From the bleachers, you see Minhee let out a nervous breath before he begins. His eyes scoot to you and your mum for a second and you use the time to smile and wave enthusiastically which seems to settle him.
As he starts his routine, you can see how his movements have been perfectly choreographed, his frame is poised and he showcases a seamless fusion of strength and elegance. You look to Sunghoon for a moment, who seems to echo your awed amazement. Minhee wove through his spins and intricate footwork with ease. It was like he was a painter and the ice was his canvas, painting the most delicate yet structured portrait. He was sensational.
Minhee looks to your mum mid-skate for approval but you already know she isn’t showing him what he needs, so he shifts to you, eyes never leaving yours as he hits his quadruple axel. The one move he’s been dying to get into his routine, the one move that burdened him forever because he could never land it, now he just achieved it with some ease.
Your hands are clasped to your chest, your face radiating a beam of joy and pride. You can’t believe he did what everyone told him was impossible for him to achieve. The expression on your face is just as elated as his.
He missed having you here to cheer him on, you can tell by the smile of appreciation on his face.
He finishes up his routine with a Biellmann Spin and ends the way he started as if he could continuously loop his performance - it’s been his signature for years.  The arena is silent as all eyes are on your brother as he relaxes from his pose and hunches over for breath. No one can quite believe the magic they just saw.
Surprisingly, Sunghoon is the first one to clap, a smirk on his face. He just witnessed a skate that might actually throw him off the top spot for Nationals, he had to respect it. You join in, standing up to jump and cheer his name. 
On cloud 9, Minhee skates over to Coach Kim who is eagerly awaiting to praise him, “Kid, you were incredible! Seriously, by far your best skate to date,” he roughly pats the skaters back and brings him in for a hug, “My kid is going to Nationals!” The moment was so sweet you naturally pouted before running down to meet him.
“Mini! Oh my god!” your voice pulls him away from his coach, the hug from him being replaced by you, “You did so good, I almost cried! Look at my eyes, I’m not lying,” you point to your face and true to your word, there are tears in the ducts of your eyes. 
Minhee ruffles your hair, “Thanks, Bubs,” he shines at the adoration he’s being soaked in, pure happiness circulating his body.
“You did well, Kang. I have nothing to fault.” Sunghoon’s voice booms behind you, his body pressing against yours as he congratulates Minhee, “Seriously, you’ve always skated well but it’s nice to see you finally bringing me some competition.”
Your brother pulls you from Sunghoon and tucks you into his side. It’s ironic how he’s protecting you from your own boyfriend. Minhee is on such a high, not even Sunghoon could ruin it for him but that doesn’t mean he has to say anything to him. He tightens the hold on your shoulder and walks you past Sunghoon. 
As he puts his guards back on, you take the chance to look at Sunghoon, mouthing him a ‘good luck’ and smile which he happily returns with a wink. He didn’t need luck, he was a pro, but now he does have to step up his game because if he doesn’t get the same reaction from the onlookers, his mum won’t let him leave the rink until he does.
Taking your seat, Minhee gives your mum a look to which she only nods. Was that all he was going to get from her? You seriously needed to find out what had turned them so cold to one another. But that’s future you’s problem, right now, you focus on Sunghoon while he puts on his skates.
He circles the ice, stretching his legs and arms, yet his expression is one of unknowingness. While he chips his skates into the surface a few times, he becomes uneasy. 
Regardless of how he feels, Sunghoon takes his starting stance, arms in the air and one leg spread out behind him.
Beginning his routine, the blare of Ocean Eyes plays through the speakers. The song, the routine, the outfit, everything was cohesive. Sunghoon has spent months preparing his Nationals skate, meticulously changing and adapting every detail to make sure it was perfect. You’ve watched him over the weeks and it’s nothing like how it is right now.
But not in the breathtaking way Minhee was, there was something wrong.
Sunghoon’s eyebrows furrow and as it’s coming up to his quad jumps, he skips them. Now you can confirm something is drastically wrong, nevertheless, he continues on, preparing for his flying camel spin. Whatever is going on, he’s doing his best to brush it off.
“What is wrong with him?” you whisper to yourself but your mother overhears it, smirking at you. 
“He’s thrown off by your brother, I imagine,” she says so casually but as you look at her, there’s a glint in her eye.
Just as Sunghoon completes the spin with a slight wobble, Coach Lee encourages him to keep going despite the apparent struggle. Determined, Sunghoon presses on, transitioning into a forward glide as he prepares for the upcoming triple loop. It's in that moment that everything seems to crumble beneath you.
As Sunghoon launches into his jump from his back foot, smoothly completing the rotations in mid-air, however, the performance takes a sudden turn upon landing – a moment of unease grips everyone watching, you included, as his ankle unexpectedly snaps at a 90-degree angle. The consequence is immediate and stark, leading to his descent to the ground. The hushed gasps of the onlookers echo at the sight of his body skimming across the ice. In the aftermath, Sunghoon holds his injured ankle, his face contorted in pain as he tries to move it.
He's badly hurt, unable to move from his spot on the ice, and the circumstances turn what should have been a flawless routine into an unexpected nightmare.
"Hoonie!" you yell, your heart pounding as you rush to the edge of the rink to assess the situation. Sunghoon is writhing in pain, tears pooling in his eyes, and you notice the blade of his skate has come off his boot - It must have come off when he landed. 
You need to be next to him, but before you can check on your lover, Minhee is quick on your heels, dragging you back. "Let me go," you're no longer concerned about how it will look if you go to check on Sunghoon; all you can think about is if he's okay. 
Minhee doesn’t listen, his grip tightening as he pulls you away. You struggle against him, feeling utterly helpless as you watch the commotion around Sunghoon unfold. Coach Kim, Mrs. Park, and others gather around him, their urgent actions heightening your anxiety. But Minhee is determined to remove you from the scene, forcefully guiding you through the doors and out of the arena.
Once in the car park, he releases you with a frustrated exclamation, his agitation evident in his gestures as he runs his hands through his hair. His eyes betray a storm of emotions, leaving you unsettled and desperate for answers.
“Minhee, what’s happening? We have to go back!” you insist, your voice tinged with desperation.
“We can’t, okay? Let’s just go home,” he responds, his tone strained, his features drawn with tension.
Sensing something amiss, you step closer to him, your heart racing with concern. “Minhee, please, tell me what’s going on. None of this makes sense,” you implore, your hands reaching out to him.
“It’s nothing, alright!” he snaps, his words too forceful to be convincing. “His skate broke, that’s all. I didn’t do anything,” he adds, his denial ringing hollow.
The straightforward solution would be for him to share what's going on, but the way he's shutting down makes it clear that direct communication is off the table. Your mind races back to the kitchen, recalling your mom's directive to Minhee to 'get it done.' Then, at the rink, she warned him not to fuck up. It dawns on you that this is more than just about the routine; something else has transpired. Yet, the connection between Minhee and a botched landing seems implausible. Skaters experience falls regularly; it's just a part of the sport. 
Unless he psyched him out but you were with each of them at different times and the only time they interacted was before Sunghoon went to get his skates from the changing room. Minhee acted super strange when Sunghoon asked to pass him like he was nervous about letting him in- 
Sunghoon’s skate…No, surely not. 
You take a cautious step back, your expression one of bewilderment. What you’re thinking couldn’t possibly have happened, your brother wouldn’t stoop so low, “Mini? You didn’t…”
"You're a liar." Minhee abruptly deters the conversation, leaving you much more puzzled than before. Tilting your head, you give him a sceptical look, but he only offers you a harsh stare, “Oh Mini, I would never do that, wasn’t that what you told me? You said that, didn’t you?” 
Okay, you've officially reached the top of your perplexity. What is he on about? “I don’t know what you mean?” you utter, awaiting any form of clarity. 
A visual cloud storms over his head, symbolic of his tone as he spits, “You’re dating Park fucking Sunghoon.”
How did he find out?
The weight of Minhee's accusation hangs in the air as you come to terms with the fact that your hidden relationship with his rival is now openly known. Your mind races, wondering who could have told him. To be honest, it could have been anyone at that point; you weren't being very secretive, merely keeping it low-key around those who knew Minhee. That was your first mistake, clearly.
The forced laugh that leaves his mouth is venomous, “You really ought to be more careful with your lies, Sis.” Retrieving his phone from his trouser pocket, he flicks through it until he finds something. As if viewing it for the first time, he gets angry again, shoving the device in your face, “You sent me it with the others.”
You’re faced with a picture, and not just any picture, the one of Sunghoon kissing your cheek at the award ceremony. The frozen moment captured in time reveals more than words ever could. Your heart sinks as the reality of your indiscretion stares back at you from the screen. The once-precious memory now serves as evidence. The tension in the air increases as you deal with the impact of your secret finally coming to light.
How could you be so stupid? You were so careful around him, always triple-checking everything and now it’s all up in flames.
“Mini-”
“Just tell me one thing, Y/N. Tell me you haven’t been seeing him since that night you got out of his car? That this started way after and you haven’t been with him for like 4 months?” his resolve has turned from one of anger to despair, desperate for you to tell him his suspicions are wrong.
But deception wasn't an option; lying to him now would only add more layers to an already tangled web. It was too complicated to tell him how you stayed away for a week, and how Sunghoon came to your rescue the night of Yeonjun’s party, and it was certainly not the right time to tell him how Sunghoon brought you back to life with his kisses and how he makes you feel like the most important person in the world. Revealing the true depth of your connection with Sunghoon would undoubtedly trigger Minhee, unleashing a storm far beyond fits of anger, something he couldn’t come back from.
The silence gave Minhee his answer, his face falling from anger to disappointment, “I fucking knew it.”
This is what you wanted to avoid the whole time, the reason you kept Sunghoon a secret in the first place. 
If he knew, he would do something rash like…
“Did you mess with Sunghoon’s skate? Did you do this because I’ve been seeing him?” It all starts to click into place but Minhee quickly shuts you down.
“It wasn’t that Y/N.” He dismisses.
“So it was you? You caused that? Minhee what the fuck?!” you shriek at his twisted confession. 
The revelation sends a shiver down your spine as your emotions mix with disbelief and confusion. This wasn’t the brother you knew, the one you grew up with and held so dear to you. 
The air thickens with unspoken words as Minhee rattles his brain for an explanation. His eyes portray the evident guilt he feels, a turbulent storm in the depths of his gaze. Any anger now dissipates with the wind as it blows cold on his face. His voice, when he finally speaks, carries the weight of regret, “Look, Y/N, it’s complicated; you have no idea what’s going on.”
“Then help me understand because right now it seems like you just tried to hurt Sunghoon because he's my boyfriend." The chill in your words reflects the icy breeze. The atmosphere is thick with tension, like a heavy curtain waiting to be dragged back to reveal the truth behind Minhee's aberrant actions.
Minhee’s anger washes his body again, muttering the word ‘boyfriend’ in disbelief before he speaks up, “The less you know the better, okay? Stay out of it.” With a swift turn, he attempts to walk away, yet his mind is unwilling to let the matter of you and Sunghoon rest. "Y’know, when you sent that picture, I was so angry I could have killed him, but as the weeks passed I was just so fucking disappointed you didn’t have the balls to tell me." 
This whole situation is so fucked up and there is nothing you can do to place everything in a perfect timeline that will help you understand his actions because he’s keeping something detrimental from you. If it wasn’t because Sunghoon and you are together, then what could it possibly be? If it was because he wanted to be at Nationals, it wasn’t Sunghoon standing in his way so it couldn’t be that. 
Before you can dwell on the situation further, your mum strides over, balancing both your belongings. "Will you two stop acting like children and fighting? You're not 5 anymore." She thrusts your jacket and bag into your arms and does the same with Minhee. "Get in the car."
“Mum, is he okay?” It’s a hopeful, albeit hesitant, question directed at your Park-hating mother. You know it's a long shot, but you chance it.
"He'll live. I doubt he'll make it to Nationals, though." She smirks, her reply tinged with dark humour that adds an unexpected dimension of tension. The revelation regarding Sunghoon's injury, delivered with that sneering twist, leaves you with a mix of anxiety for your boyfriend. 
She had something to do with this, that’s obvious. You just had to find out how and why.
taglist (closed!!): @heelee-01 @zerasari @beomgyusonlywife @iwaplant @monstanctiny21 @chiiiiiiiiis @minniejenseo @run2gyuz @jngwnlvs @haelahoops @capri-cuntz @nctislifue @jaehoonii @weyukinluv @skzenhalove @enhypenlovre @cherriruto @bambangan @who-tf-soddhi @nxzz-skz @nshmrarki @hotsforikeu @enhastolemyheart @erehkinnie30 @judeduartewannabe @neosexual @fakeuwus @positivelyinlovewithjungwon @tobiosbbyghorl @kimsunoops
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aceyogurt · 3 months
Text
Technical difficulties
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Pairing: ex Vox x reader
Content: jealous Vox, fluff, implied sexual content, SFW
Summary: You and Vox have been apart for some time now, but after hearing you might be with someone new he pulls some strings…
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You had originally broken up with Vox due to how busy he was as an overlord along with his dramatically high ego. Which as you can guess he wasn’t exactly content with your actions. Originally he swore you off saying he didn’t need you and even though you knew he was just mad, you’d be lying if it didn’t hurt. But after that break up things became incredibly awkward..
It was especially awkward because, technically you still work under him due to a contract. Which wasn’t ending anytime soon… To your surprise though he didn’t pull any strings to make your work more painful then it already it was.
Well that was until he heard rumors that you might be sleeping with another actor you met on one of your recent sets…
After that you’d been assigned to x10 more projects then you’d been used to absolutely exhausting you. And that coworker of yours was fired due to unknown reasons. And haven’t been responding to your calls.
This extra work load meant much more press conferences and interviews, and the one you had today you weren’t excited for. Why? Because it was Vox’s show, Vox was interviewing you. And boy you were praying he wouldn’t make things weird. I mean he cares a lot about image so surely he’ll be appropriate… right?
You get the recording studio and see Vox speaking to Valentino in the corner of the room, trying to ignore them you make your way to the food display, which had an assortment of treats you enjoyed.
After around your fourth strawberry tart a voice speaks from behind you causing you to jump. “You keep eating at the rate you’re going, you’re going to get sick on set.” You didn’t even need to turn around to know it was Vox. You roll your eyes and respond back to his comment.
“I’ll eat as much as I’d like, thank you very much. And if you didn’t want me to be eating you should’ve chosen different snacks” in response he just chuckles putting a hand on your shoulder. “Well I guess you’re right, we’ll start in five.” And before you could get comment in he walked off to deal with other affairs.
Your eye was already twitching you knew you were going to hate every second of those interview…
You sat across from Vox in a loft chair that was thankfully comfortable. The tape starts rolling and you hear his signature intro start playing.
‘Welcome to the show’ ♪♯
Vox had his typical smile as he starts the broadcast. He introduces you seemingly normal and began to get into the interview wasting no time. “Let’s start off easy, how have you been?”
“I’ve been well, been busy recently.” You say with a slight jab that only he would notice, and you know he does as he attempts to cover up a laugh with a cough. “So I hear, hopefully not in an exhausting way.” He says as if he’s not the one who assigned you this shit, and knowing you’re exhausted. You nod and decide to play his game back, crossing his arms. “Well it’s certainly keeping me on my toes, luckily I have a lot of good co-workers to keep me sane though.” You say purely to get a reaction out of him.
And man were you successful, he’s smile is strained and you can see him fisting his hand from what you were implying. “Well isn’t that lovely.” There was an akward silence before he spoke again. “Well how about we play a game yeah?” The rules of the game were fairly simple you guys draw a challenge card and if you fail to complete it in the given time the other person gives you a consequence of their choosing.
The first few rounds went by fairly smooth, with nothing worth noting, you both had won your challenges so…. This particular challenge you weren’t sure you were going to win though… “Well what’s the card say” Vox chimed in since you hadn’t read it aloud yet. “Eat a cherry pie in under 60 seconds” now this would probably be possible for you, if you for a fact hadn’t ate six strawberry tarts right before this. You already could feel the sickness you’d get from all these sweets. And from the grin Vox had you figured he already knew that.
Not even twenty seconds into the challenge you forfeit not wanting to throw up, you wipe your face with a napkin as Vox speaks about your punishment. “Well seeing you failed to complete your card that means I get to choose a punishment for you right?” He ask as if he hadn’t already planned out what he was going to say. You groan annoyed nodding as you just want to get this over with. “Just say what your thinking already”
He laughs “well, we all have heard the rumors about you and a certain someone getting together… mind telling the audience if what they say is true?” You should’ve known he’d ask about this, of course he would. Instead of looking at the camera you’re now looking at him. “Well normally I wouldn’t share private relations but, I suppose this case is an exception. Me and the person you’re referring to aren’t together nor have we done anything together.” You say unwillingly, see Vox had obviously been paying attention with every interaction you had with this co-worker since the rumors spread and he wasn’t able to fully get ahold of your guys relationship because, you made sure to hide as much as possible.
Now that you admitted that there was nothing between the two of you though another question rises into Voxs mind ‘why be so secretive’ this question though he didn’t want to ask publicly…
The talk show ends shortly after and you thought you were done dealing with Vox. Yeah no, around 30 minutes after the show Vox calls you into his office, which you reluctantly tend to.
“You asked to see me?” You say praying he wasn’t going to bring up what you think he was. “You know I was thinking, you say you didn’t have a relationship with him. But you took so many extra steps to hide from my view, which I can only see you doing if you’re lying about not having any kind of relationship… unless of course there was another reason?” He speaks so obviously full of himself. You bite your tongue in annoyance.
“My relationships and how I protect them are none of your concern Vox” he laughs, like genuinely laughs. “Good one, but we both know why I’d be interested to keep tabs on you guys, now tell me, why’d you do it…” he pauses being a lot closer then he should be to you, he leans down meeting your eyes. “Because if I’m being honest the only theory I have is that you wanted to get my attention”
You try your best not to react but of course your eyes avert his gaze. “Why would I even-“ his voice gets a lot more serious but still egotistical, “if I’m wrong all you have to do is say so” the room goes silent.
“Thought so” he says pleased with himself, you were pissed. And as he turns around he adds one final comment, “I’ll be free tonight”
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gilfkitty · 3 months
Note
hi! I was wondering if you can maybe do stepdad vendetta Leon? When it’s late at night and he comes home after a long day at work and he’s drinking like usual, but reader can’t sleep cause of the thunderstorm and she just wants his comfort. Could you make it fluffy at first then smutty? -Lana <3
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Seeking Shelter (18+)
ft. stepdad! (vendetta) Leon x fem! reader
WARNINGS !! - some angst (?), mentions of alcohol and marital problems, Leon is slightly intoxicated, stepcest, little bit of biting/marking, pet names, overstimulation, thigh fucking 𓃹
note. ty for being my first normal ask ! im not very confident when it comes to writing fluff but i hope this turned out to your liking :3
wc. 1.5k
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Leon absolutely hated his work, most of all he hated being away from home. He just wanted a break, at least more than weekends off.
Waking up early every day and staying out, busting his ass til nighttime was not how he wanted to live his life. He felt like he was older than he actually was, already getting severe back and body aches, always tired and struggling with migraines that only alcohol could simmer down. He didn’t want to feel like an old man at the age of fourty. But someone had to provide for you and your mother. That’s what motivated him to keep at it. Even if it was breaking him mentally.
He couldn’t deny it felt good to be needed and he knew that you needed him most.
Unlike your mother, you were appreciative of his efforts to furnish the household. You understood he had to be gone a lot and you didn’t ask for a million things. Sometimes he wondered if he married the wrong woman. It seemed your mother was only interested in his good looks and money. They argued more often than they talked. She complained he wasn’t making her happy, didn’t take care of her needs.
He tried his hardest to, but maybe he just couldn’t. Maybe he just didn’t love her like he did when they first met. Rushing into marriage after only dating a couple months prior often turned out that way. And the more he got to know her, the more he got to know you.
You were the exact opposite of your mother despite having been raised solely by her. You were a total sweetheart to him. Made him feel like he wasn’t doing all this for nothing.
——————
Just like any other night, tonight he’s returning home late, bottle being downed to get the negativity out of his head. The bitter burning of the liquid flooding his stomach was a pleasant, comforting in contrast to the flickering lightning outside.
He finishes up another glass. Just enough to calm his nerves but not enough to make him lose his thoughts completely.
He removes his leather jacket, slightly damp from the rain as he makes his way up the stairs ready to head to bed. He considered taking a shower, but he wasn’t caught up in it that long. He was too tired to stay standing anyway.
He pivots to go to your mother but comes to a halt at the sight of your bedroom light still on. You were usually always asleep by the time he got home so he couldn’t help but be curious.
“Hey, hon.” he stands in your doorway, hesitant to enter further. “What are you still doing up? Thought you had a busy day planned for tomorrow.”
You were too embarrassed to tell him the reason. Your heart was pounding heavily in your chest just from some simple rain and thunder. It was something you figured you’d eventually grow out of as you got older, but you didn’t.
“Rain botherin’ you?” he asks, as always reading you like an open book.
“Yeah, i’ll be fine though.”
“I can lay with you for a bit if that helps. If you can make some room for me.”
His offer made you feel all the more ashamed. You weren’t a child, didn’t need to be cradled to sleep. But you didn’t want to say no. His comfort was what you wanted. His presence in general made you feel safe.
So, you organize the cluster that’s taking up your bed space, scooting aside for him.
He lays on the inside, getting snug under your comforter and wrapping his arms around you in a protective embrace. He buries his face in the back of your hair, exhaling a contented sigh.
His breath was hot on your neck, alcohol mixed with that dollar store cologne was pungent, clouding your senses. That smell was just Leon. Homely somehow.
“It’s alright, baby,” he croons, “Storms bother me sometimes too. I’ll stay til’ you’re able to fall asleep.”
His voice was husky, directed straight through your ears. As much as you tried, you couldn’t ignore the fact that you were starting to feel something you shouldn’t.
“You don’t have to stay,” you counter even though you really wanted him to. “I know you have work tomorrow.”
“I don’t mind. Wouldn’t be able to sleep knowin’ you’re upset anyway.”
He presses his body further against yours. His hand rubs circles over your stomach to coax you to sleep.
It was having the opposite effect. For both of you.
This close proximity, the heat of your body, the scent of your hair, it was all making him dizzy. Dizzy in a way any hard liquor or whiskey couldn’t achieve for him.
His hands make their way underneath your shirt, testing your reaction to the advance. He trails up slowly feeling your soft skin under his rough palm, stopping at the edge of your bra before slipping back down.
You shudder when he thumbs at the waistband of your pajama pants. He was asking for permission without words. He didn’t have a way to ask that didn’t make him sound like a creep or a pervert. He didn’t want you to see him that way. But he needed you. Hoped you needed him in that way too.
His breath sped up, he was practically heaving. Blame it on the alcohol.
“I should go,” he decided, releasing you. But you stop his hand midway out.
“You can’t just tease me like that and then leave. You said you’d stay until I fell asleep.”
His dick hardens in his pants at your reciprocated touch, making him realize just how long it had been since he’d felt someone else this way. Your mom never put out, and when she did, there was no connection.
This was different. Just holding you in his arms makes him feel something he’s never felt with anyone.
“Sorry, sweetheart. You’re right. I said i’d stay.”
He wasn’t expecting those words to influence you. He was trying to push the sexual thoughts to the back of his mind. But then you move his hand where you both wanted it to be, and his brain is fried.
You don’t have to tell him twice. He gets the memo.
Your pants, along with his own, are discarded to your floor. He holds his position behind you, slipping his length between the plush of your inner thighs, right between your needy folds.
As bad as he wanted to fuck you, he couldn’t. No way in hell he was going to ruin your life and knock you up. He was your stepfather. Your mother would surely kill you if she found out.
He settles for this, slowly pumping his hips to slide his cock between your legs.
You line them up, tightening them together for his pleasure. He grinds against your clit, rubbing back and forth and making you moan. You were dripping on his cock, begging for him to take you. He wanted to so badly.
“Shhh, baby,” he hushes with a hand over your mouth. “Be quiet for me.
He wasn’t exactly playing fair. He was groaning in your ear more and more as it went on. You were a mouse in comparison.
He holds onto you bruisingly tight, wanting to be closer. It was so hard to have you right in front of him, soaked and whiny just for him. Yet he couldn’t go further.
It almost pissed him off.
His teeth sink into the flesh of your shoulder as he tries to restrain himself, marking you in the process. He speeds his movements, his pelvis meeting your ass again and again. You could feel him throbbing, hear that desperate rasp in his voice as he moaned into you.
“I need you so bad sweetheart.” He kisses over the bite mark he left, panting through his nose. “Need to be inside your sweet pussy.”
You plead for him. But it’s muffled by the cup of his hand. You felt so good just from this. You couldn’t even imagine how the real deal would be.
Your body practically spasms from cumming. He rubbed you in just the right way, just the right pace.
He loses his mind feeling the way you squirm against him. He couldn’t stop, even if you were overly sensitive. He needed your body.
He has to hold your thighs together as they moved too far apart, making you endure the friction.
Cum spurts out of him too far, and far too fast for him to catch it. It just keeps spilling out, and he just keeps thrusting into you until it starts to hurt. He’s gripping you tighter than intended as his muscles stiffen uncontrollably.
He uncovers your mouth after he falls limp against you, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.
“Sorry about the mess.” he says to break the silence. “Think you’ll be able to sleep now? Feelin’ a little sleepy myself.”
“Can you stay with me all night?” you ask. You didn’t want him to leave your side. It’d be cold without him.
He hesitates to answer, thinking over your request and considering if it would be too risky.
“Sure, sweetheart. Your mom probably won’t even notice I’m gone tonight anyway.”
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