Tumgik
#I hope the rest of your monday goes well and that you rest like you deserve đŸ„ș💕💓💞
highhhfiveee · 5 months
Note
Mike x reader, with reader who works long hours during the daytime and Mike working at night which results in them barely having time to see eachother besides from dinner and bedtime
oh, you wanted angst fr đŸ„Č i think it could go either way, but honestly angst is what stood out to me first. i’m going to make this sadder too, just because i can 💜
to crumble (mike schmidt x reader)
tags/warnings: angst, pain, prescription drug mentions, fluff and cuteness in the beginning but not for long. mike fucks up, reader picks up his slack. things just don’t work! let me know if i missed anything! mndi.
this is long, sorry ;-; there are also probably a million errors in this, please ignore 💜
part 2 here: đŸłïž
all i can think ab is the unbearable pain that replaces the love in your hearts as time goes on.
you’ve been together for half a year. things were fun at first, but once you decide to move in to help with abby, you start to see the cracks in the foundation.
in this one, reader works two jobs (bc let’s face it, this is unfortunately realistic); teaching from 9-4 and cashiering from 5-8:30. mike doesn’t want you working two jobs and you didn’t want to, but you knew that your salaries combined wouldn’t keep you afloat. abby’s school is expensive, and so is everything else in life. the extra money you get from cashiering gives you guys flexibility.
every morning at 6:30, monday to friday, you wake up alone. even though you know it’ll probably be empty, you still reach your arm over to run it over mike’s side. it’s always cold and flat, completely untouched.
you brush this off at first; it's one of the things that comes with him working overnight and you know he needs this job so that he can keep abby. you want that for him and know that love is sacrifice.
you wake abby up and start getting her ready in between fixing yourself up; brushing her teeth while you brush yours, letting her get a few more minutes of sleep in while you throw on your clothes, guiding her through packing her bag while you make breakfast. by that time, closer to 7:30, mike is finally walking into the house.
his eyes are hooded and surrounded by dark bags and you can tell he's exhausted from the way he hangs his things up lethargically. he kisses abby, who's running around collecting things, on the head, then ambles over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing along your neck.
they're soft, gentle actions that make you forget about not being able to do things like this at night. it doesn't matter when you have mornings with him, even if it's only 30 minutes before you have to go. you giggle and reach a hand up to his cheek, kissing him on his other one.
"missed you," you whisper.
"missed you too," he mumbles back, planting a kiss on your lips before stalking away to ask abby something.
you all eat breakfast together, and then you're slipping abby's coat over her shoulders before you put on your own. you usher her to the car and give mike one last kiss before you leave, a deep one that you hope he feels all day. when you pull away, you can see the affection sparkling in his eyes, low and tired but expressive nonetheless.
"i love you," he whispers, his sleepiness masquerading as love-drunkeness.
"i love you, mike. get some rest, okay?"
you drop abby off, wishing her well, before you're alone for the next 12 hours. it often drags. at your teaching job, you feel as if it's just passing you buy in waves, everything whizzing past you at light speed. you're aware that you're in front of the kids, but then you just blackout. you're thrown into autopilot, and you do this over and over until your lunch break at 1. you text mike to pass the time.
sometimes it's something silly, like "god i do not get paid enough" or "a kid just ate glue /: send help", to which mike will respond "😂😂😂" or "lol you deserve millions (:". he makes you laugh, and it's enough to help you push through the end of the day.
he picks up abby from school, asking her all about her day and what she wants for dinner. he'll text you what she says so you know what to expect when you get home, like "meatloaf 🍖🍞 (:" or "chicken alfredo 0: fancy".
for you, transitioning from teaching to customer service was easy; all you had to do was maintain that same autopilot: smile on, eyes alert, prepared for anything. no one suspected a thing when you could keep up and answer their questions.
mike helps abby with her homework, scratching his head with the eraser of a pencil when he draws blanks on a math or history question. abby only sighs, telling him about something off-topic. "art class is much more interesting."
mike starts dinner while you're closing up at work, sweeping the front end of the store and counting down your drawer. he lets abby help sometimes, and they usually have it ready for you by the time you're home at 9.
abby meets you at the door, and you hug her tight, picking her up and waltzing her back into the house. mike is setting the dining table, greeting you with a sleepy smile and, "the queen has arrived."
you all sit down and eat, and it's another one of those moments where everything feels okay. the last 12 hours didn't matter when you were able to have this at the end of it.
you tell abby and mike about your day over spaghetti, spilling details about prideful parents and spiteful customers. abby laughs all throughout, asking questions about being a cashier. mike just listens, eyes and heart floating between the two of you.
you clear the table while mike goes to get ready for work, and a wash of dread passes over you. your brain knows what's happening next. you'll kiss him goodbye, clinging to his hoodie sleeve for a second longer than you should, and then you'll settle down with abby, bathing her and reading her to sleep. then you'll be alone. it will just be you and the screech of infomercials until midnight, and then you'll be off to sleep, snuggling into a pillow that smells like mike.
you push the feeling away, shaking your head and hands and doing just as you know. there's the kiss, the night routine with abby, and the moment you sit on the couch, surrounded by tv light and the croaking of cicadas.
mike doesn't text during his shift unless it's an emergency. it makes you sad, but you understand. security requires focus, and you require sleep.
for a while, this works. it's what you and mike have to do to make ends meet, and while you both think that it'll only get better with more time at it, it doesn't.
you still wake up alone and go through the same rhythm, but when mike comes in around 7:30, it's not 7:30 anymore. it's 7:39, then 7:45, then 7:58. the latest he's ever been, so late that you're not able to eat with him. he shrugs it off when you mention it, kissing your cheek and retreating to the bedroom to sleep.
you drop abby off as usual, and go to work. work. work. work.
mike starts missing your lunch break texts, sometimes dozing dangerously close to when abby's school lets out. while your class works, you bitterly stare at your text conversation. your unanswered "shaping america's future is kinda sick" message stares back at you until it's replaced by abby's school calling. your heart drops to your stomach as you step out of the room to take the call, answering the phone with, "is she okay?"
mike didn't pick her up. she's out at 2:30 and it's 3:30 now, and she's crying and scared because he didn't pick up the phone, and she always calls him first.
you leave work in a flurry, asking a fellow teacher to take over, and you speed to abby's school, not caring about tickets or police or anything. you only want to get her home.
mike is dashing out of the door when you pull up, wrenching a sobbing abby out of your backseat and clutching her close. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry," he breathes, smoothing her hair and looking up at you with regret etched into every feature on his face.
you try your best to hide your upset, ushering everyone inside before changing into your work clothes. you were going to be late, but you shake it off. abby was home and that was all that mattered.
"hey," mike reaches out to you when you're on your way out. his fingers graze their way down to your hand, and it makes you wish that you could stay home. "thanks for that. i've just been super tired lately and i overslept and---"
"it's okay, baby," you give him a tight lipped smile and a kiss on the knuckles. "just don't let it happen again."
it happens again. and again. and again. it happens so many times that abby starts to think mike is forgetting about her, and you don't know how to get that out of her head. she cries about it more and more with each time you have to pick her up. he stops running out to apologize, still asleep inside.
you rush into the bedroom. he's splayed out over the bed, snoring loudly with his arm hanging over the side. you find an orange pill bottle on his nightstand. an old ambien prescription.
you argue with him before work sometimes.
"what do you need ambien for?"
"i can't sleep."
"but every morning, you skip breakfast to sleep."
"i do fall asleep, but i started waking up out of it. i just take the ambien to help me fall again."
"what time do you take it?"
"i don't know, y/n."
"why are you lying to me?"
"i'm not."
"what time?" you cry, grasping at your chest. a sharp pains thud through your ribcage, and you literally sob. it feels like your heart is tearing in two. "you stare at times, mike. what time do you take the ambien?"
he doesn't answer you and he doesn't know why. it would be so easy to tell you that he takes it at 9 or 10, and that he believes he'll be able to wake himself up around 2 but he doesn't. he can’t sleep without the ambien. he needs it now because he kept himself up in the early days of this, mind toiling over their situation, the endless reassurance that this would work sending him into insomnia.
you leave when he doesn't answer, wiping at your watery eyes and runny nose.
you cashier as a shell of yourself. abby stops asking mike for homework help, and eventually he stops cooking dinner too, trading all that time in for extra sleep after picking her up. you have to explain the situation to your retail store manager, just in case mike forgets again, and start looking after abby more. mike only ever made time to spend with her on the weekends, content with awkward moments over lunch and low energy bickering.
the lunch break texts stop. the dinner texts stop.
he's dressed and ready to leave when you get home these days, prepared to exit as you enter. you don't know what to say as you face each other in the doorway, eyes focused on anything but each other. you don’t even kiss anymore.
"i think abby's asleep already."
you shake your head. "i think she's really sad. she hasn't been coming out of there like she used to. she misses you."
"i miss her too, of course. i'm just busy."
"all you do is work, mike," you deadpan, exhausted with him. you never thought you'd ever get to a point where you looked at mike, the sure love of your life, with disdain, but you felt it creep into you ever so slightly.
"yeah, i know. it fucking sucks, but it's what i have to do to keep abby."
you scoff, scooting past him to take your coat and bag off. "as if you're going to keep her by leaving her at school everyday." it's supposed to be under your breath, but the disdain creeps onto your tongue, bitter and raging, and you say it aloud, to his face.
his jaw clenches and his brown eyes burn, staring you down with an unrelenting severity. you hunch yourself over, dropping your head and sighing out, "mike, i'm sorry. i didn--"
he leaves without another word.
how it got to this, neither of you know. not even the weekends healed anymore. mike caught up on sleep, you caught up on grading, and in your downtime, you avoided each other. for him, it felt easier than being around you. you were irritable all the time, a quick fuse with any word he could think to speak.
for you, it seemed like it was what he wanted. time away from you, from abby, from everyone; time to be alone and recharge for the only thing he ever did, the only thing that was keeping his sister in his care.
you didn't even remember what his touch felt like, what he tasted like. the man that you loved had become but a memory, a ghost that passed through your plane. you’re able to imagine his fluffy hair, his perfect smile, his laugh, his rich smell, but none of it mattered. he didn’t feel like yours anymore.
you suppose it was the same for him, with you existing in the same space but only tangible to him some of the time. he would catch glimpses of your smile, laughing at something on your phone, or talking to abby, meet your eyes when you shuffled back to the bedroom from the bathroom, rimmed in red from crying for the last 30 minutes.
he starts sleeping on the couch, unable to even lay beside you.
mike does a lot of crying. a lot of screaming into his pillow, wondering why he fucks these things up so badly. you do the same, wondering why you stay in situations that hurt you.
this goes on for longer than you two would like, so long that you don't even celebrate your one-year anniversary.
the day passes without noise, mike sleeping and you working.
a prequel of sorts : x
THIS WAS SO FUCKING LONG MY BBBBBBBB OMG. i did NOT mean to go this deep in, i just felt SOOOOO MUCH! my little brain got sad ): i could go deeper into this too one day, breaking up moments into specific little blurbs or ficlets d: let me know if y'all even enjoyed this lmaooo off to write for Halloween lol
879 notes · View notes
nyxoz · 1 year
Note
I was thinking for a part 2 to the modern day Eddie x reader sexting could be she goes and hangs out with Jackson and Eddie starts sexting her knowing she's over there 👀
thank you so for your request!!! im so mind blown by the love for this fic. i hope you enjoy this part two.
Eddie Munson x Reader
Reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns
Word count: 3.5k
Warnings: Smut, Vaginal fingering, P in V sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Best Friends to Lovers, Modern AU, Sexting, Swearing, Jealousy, Semi-Public Sex, Unprotected Sex.
*
Part One
*
Eddie has been avoiding you. 
Well, at least you think he has. He hasn’t contacted you since he said goodbye the night he made you come so hard on your couch you had to lay against him to catch your breath. 
You haven’t texted or called him either but that’s not the point. He initiated it. Shouldn’t he be the one to call you? 
It’s been three days since that night, which isn’t super long but you and Eddie haven’t gone a day without talking to each other for god knows how long. It’s weird, him not being in your life. Not texting him something stupid or sending him a meme or TikTok you saw. You miss him. But you’re mad at him. 
You’re not mad about what happened. You’re mad about how he’s acting (or not acting.). You didn’t expect him to suddenly be your boyfriend or anything, but he could at least fucking text you. 
It’s Monday night when you decide to head to Benny's diner alone for dinner. 
As you enter the mostly empty diner you see none other than Jackson, sitting alone at a booth lining the window. His head pops up as the bell rings on the door and he’s smiling as he recognises you. 
You subtly sigh and smile at him. 
“Hey.” He says. 
You walk over to where he’s seated, “Hey, Jackson.” 
He looks around you like he’s expecting to see someone. 
“You eating alone?” 
You nod. 
“I’d expected Munson to be following behind you like a lost little puppy.” He laughs at his joke. You don’t laugh and he notices calming down his chuckle, “I was just kidding.” He tries to save face.  
There’s an awkward silence before he clears his throat. 
“How about you take a seat? I’ll buy you dinner.” He asks. 
You look at the empty seat across from him and then back at his smiling face. You decide, fuck it, why not? You get a free meal out of it and some okay company. 
“Suuure, but I want a milkshake too.” You bargain as you slide into the booth. 
He laughs a little, his teeth blindingly white and in full view. “Sure thing, darlin’.” 
He keeps smiling at you as you grab at the menu his fingers are fiddling with on the table. Your eyes wander over the page, trying to choose when he starts up that awkward conversation. 
“So, Friday night was, like, good.” He says. 
You snort, eyes still on the menu. “Good?” 
“Hot.” He corrects, “like so hot.” 
You finally look up at him after deciding what you want. “I’m glad.” 
He laughs, “You’re hard to read.” 
Raising a brow and tapping your fingers against the table you smirk slightly. “Am I?” 
Jackson leans back further against the booth and runs his hands through his hair. “Yeah, you really are.” 
“Alrighty! What can I get you two tonight?” A waitress interrupts your conversation. 
You look up at her and see her name tag reads Joan. You and Jackson give your orders to Joan and she grabs your menu before walking back to the counter. 
As Jackson asks how your weekend is going, headlights shine into the window as a car parks in front of the diner. You automatically turn to look at the light and as the headlights turn off you see a very familiar green van. Eddie. Of course, he’s here. 
You turn back to Jackson and pretend you’re listening to some fishing story he’s telling as you hear the bells of the front door jingle as Eddie enters. You don’t look up at the sound and keep staring head-on at Jackson. 
He says something that makes himself laugh and you don’t know quite what it was but you decide to laugh loud and reach a hand forward to touch his arm that’s resting on the tabletop. Eddie walks past just as you do and you can’t help but flick your eyes up at him. He looks at you and then down to where you’re touching Jackson. He doesn’t stop walking until he’s sitting in the booth right behind Jackson, staring directly at you. 
Jackson doesn’t seem to notice that Eddie is here, too caught up in your touch and laugh. 
“Yeah, so funny right!” He laughs with you. 
“Totally.” You smile, staring just past his shoulder into the brown eyes that are staring directly into yours. 
Eddie is smirking very subtly at you before he drops his eyes down to the menu. 
The next twenty minutes seem to go by uneventfully. You flirt shamelessly with Jackson, but manage to avoid looking at Eddie the entire time. Your food comes out and after you both finish, you decide to split the promised milkshake. 
“I gotta say, I’m more of a strawberry milkshake man myself.” Jackson says and you put two straws into the shake. 
“People are biased towards vanilla because they think it’s basic, but it’s not! It’s original and iconic. There’s nothing wrong with being vanilla.” You smile at him. 
You drop a finger in the whipped cream and bring it up to your mouth, sucking the sweetness off your finger. Your eyes meet with Eddie’s over Jackson’s shoulder. 
His eyes are dark, his pupils blown wide taking up the chocolate brown you love so much. He’s rolling his bottom lip between his teeth as he watches you intently. 
Your eyes flicker back to Jackson and he’s smiling at you softly, a sheepish look on his face. He leans down and takes a sip of the milkshake and groans as he does. 
“Okay, you’re right. This is good.” 
“See! Nothing wrong with vanilla.” You repeat before taking a sip yourself. 
Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you fish it out as Jackson takes another sip. 
Eddie 7:37pm: do that again. 
Your eyes flicker up to Eddie and he’s staring at you. You stare back for a few seconds before you look down at your phone and type out a response. 
You 7:37pm: Who’s this? 
You can be petty. 
He responds immediately. 
Eddie 7:37pm: bet it doesn’t taste as sweet as you did. 
Your cheeks warm at the thought of him licking your arousal off his own fingers and you keep your eyes down on your phone. 
You can’t think of a witty reply. So you lock your phone and keep it face up in your lap, before turning back to Jackson. 
“See any good movies lately?” You ask lamely, trying to keep the conversation flowing but too preoccupied by Eddie. 
Your phone buzzes again and you ignore it. 
“Movies?” Jackson chuckles, “Uh not really. I’ve been focusing on fixing up my truck, honestly.” 
“Oh really?” You fake interest with a smile. 
Your phone buzzes a second time and your eyes can’t help but flicker down. 
Eddie 7:38pm: have you been thinking about me? 
Eddie 7:39pm: thinking about my fingers fucking you? 
You close your eyes to compose yourself as you look back up at Jackson. He’s too interested in talking about his truck to notice you’re not paying him any attention. 
Looking down at your lap you read the flood of texts you just received. 
Eddie 7:40pm: I’ve been thinking about you.
Eddie 7:40pm: thinking about how you taste. 
Eddie 7:40pm: how you felt when you came on my fingers. 
Eddie 7:40pm: I know you’d feel fucking unbelievable coming on my cock. 
The last message has you squeezing your thighs together. The thought of Eddie’s cock inside you has been on your mind for the past three days. You’ve touched yourself thinking about it, imagining him taking you against your soft sheets, or in his trailer, van, anywhere really. 
“What’re you think?” Jackson asks. 
You look up fast and blink a few times. 
“About what colour to paint my truck? Red or black?” He clarifies. 
“Oh, uh, red?” 
“Yeah, I’m thinking that too!” He keeps rambling about the truck tyres or engine, you’re not really sure.
Eddie 7:42pm: would you let me finish inside you? I know you’re on the pill. 
Eddie 7:42pm: wanna fill you up and watch my cum drip out of you
That’s the nail in the coffin of your patience. You clear your throat and interrupt Jackson. 
“Umm, this has been fun or whatever but I actually have to go.” You say standing up. Your eyes look over quickly at Eddie who is watching you as he eats a few fries. 
“Oh? I thought we could maybe go back to mine or something.” He smiles up at you hopefully. 
You frown apologetically, “Sorry. I’ll see you later?” 
He nods, but his expression shows a tad bit of frustration like his night has now been wasted playing nice with you when he couldn’t get anything out of it. 
You ignore him and turn to walk towards the bathroom. You pass the counter, and smile at Joan as you go, pushing open the bathroom door and turning into the ladies’ room. 
As you enter the end cubicle, you pull out your phone and sit on the closed toilet, going to scroll through Eddie’s messages again. You read each one, feeling your skin warm and your stomach tighten in arousal. 
You can’t believe him. After no contact for three days, this is what you get? 
The door to the bathroom opens and shuts with a thud. You can hear heavy footsteps walking along the tiled floor, they get louder as they grow closer. You look underneath the cubicle door, seeing familiar dirty converse standing directly in front of it.
Knuckles rap against the wood in a rhythmic fashion. 
“Y/N
” Eddie drags out your name. 
You stay silent and watch his feet. 
“Little pig! Little pig! Let me in.” He sings, a soft chuckle following it. 
You stand up, your clothes rustling and echoing in the quiet bathroom. You step forward, reaching for the lock and turning it slowly. Pulling your hand back, the door opens with a creek, Eddie coming into view inch by inch. 
He stands there, looking good enough to eat. He’s wearing his usual leather jacket over a black Judas Priest shirt. His black jeans are ripped at the knees. 
He smiles brightly at you, creases forming around his mouth and his brown eyes narrowing. 
You’re both quiet for a minute, staring at each other. You feel his eyes roaming your body, goosebumps rising on your skin under his gaze. 
“Hey.” He says taking a step into the cubicle. 
You give him a look of disbelief. After three days that’s all he’s got to say to you. 
You push at his chest, “Asshole!”
He sways a little but stands tall. 
You push at him again and he grabs at your wrists as they land on his chest. 
“I know, I’m sorry.” 
“You fucking just ghosted me!” 
You struggle against his hold but give up after he shows no sign of letting go. 
“I know.” 
“Why?” You ask defeated. 
He brings your hands up to his face and presses kisses on your knuckles. “I’m sorry.” He whispers against the skin, “I got scared, I don’t know, I just freaked out.” 
“Why, though?” 
He lowers your hands so you’re holding each other down near your waists. 
“I thought maybe you didn’t want me that way.” 
You scoff, “I literally orgasmed. I wanted it!”
“Yeah, I realise that now. I thought it through.” 
“You’re still an asshole.” You smirk. 
He grins back and begins slowly stepping forward, pushing you further back into the cubicle. He lets go of your hand to reach behind him and push the door closed, twisting the lock in place.
He stands in front of you and you take one step back, your thighs hitting the edge of the toilet. 
“Maybe I can make it up to you?” He asks, titling his head slightly. 
“Maybe.” 
He crowds against you, grabbing at your waist and moving you against the wall. His face hovers above you, half an inch away, his deep chocolate eyes flickering over your face. 
“Or maybe,” you start, “maybe I can catch up with Jackson.” It’s an empty threat but Eddie’s brows frown at the thought. 
“No.” He says. His right hand comes up to grab at your chin, his thumb pulling down your bottom lip a little. “You’re mine.” 
“Yours?” You whisper. 
His thumb presses harder against your lip, pushing upwards and sliding into your mouth. 
You drop your jaw, opening your mouth a little wider. Your tongue flattens out for him to glide his thumb along it. 
“All mine.” He murmurs. 
You suck on his thumb, pressing your tongue up against it and hollowing your cheeks. 
“Fuck.” He sighs, eyes transfixed on your mouth. 
Slowly, you draw your head back, pulling your mouth off him, the squelch of the suction breaking is loud in the space between you both. 
He licks at his lips as he watches the spit glistening on his thumb. 
“Did you like my texts?” He asks. 
Your head drops back further to thud against the wall, your hair scratches against you as you nod slowly. 
“What do you think, hmm?” His hand comes up to your hair line, pushing the strands back in soft strokes. “Would you let me come inside you?” 
Your heart jumps at the question. Swallowing down the spit pooling in your mouth, you nod again. 
“Gimme your words, baby.” He says. 
“Yes.” 
“Yes, what?” 
You huff a little, “Yes, I want you to come inside me.” 
His free hand splays against your stomach, inching down to the waistline of your jeans. His skilled fingers pop your button open and push down your zipper, the pads of his fingers landing on the soft cotton of your panties. 
Slowly but surely, he works his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, trailing down the top of your cunt and pressing his middle finger in between your slit. 
You gasp as his finger circles your clit. 
He smiles at your intake of breath and slides another finger alongside the first, gliding them between your folds and lapping up your arousal. 
He circles your entrance, before pushing two fingers in. 
You squeak as he curls his fingers up, searching for the rough spot inside you that makes you clench around him. You moan out as he continues thrusting his fingers into you. 
“Eddie.” 
He leans his forehead against yours and keeps fingering you. 
“Yeah, baby?” 
“Don’t want your fingers.” 
He smiles and kisses your cheek, “No?” 
You shake your head. 
“What do you want?” 
His fingers come up to rub your clit some more and you cry out. 
“I want...” you trail off as he continues to toy with you. 
“Yes?” He asks with a smile, nosing at your cheekbone. 
“I want your cock.” 
He laughs and his warm breath hits your face. 
“Whatever you want, sweetheart.” 
He pulls his hand out from your underwear, his other hand coming down to your jeans and pushing them down your legs, along with your underwear. You toe off your shoes and slide your jeans and panties off, leaving them on the floor next to the toilet. 
You reach forward and grab at Eddie’s belt, unbuckling it and pushing his pants and boxers down over cock. It springs free, hitting his black tee and leaving a spot of precum. 
You go to grab at his cock but he grabs at your hand to stop you. 
“Wait,” he breathes out, “I wanna
” he looks over your face and then reaches up to take it in his hands, “I wanna kiss you.” 
He holds your face so softly in his calloused hands. 
You realise, in both these times you’ve been together, you’ve never kissed each other. You’ve never had your lips pressed against his or your tongue in his mouth. 
It was a line you both unknowable hadn’t tried to cross. Touching each other was one thing, but kissing felt more personal. Like it could break your friendship if it went wrong. 
You look down at his pink lips, wanting nothing more than to touch them with your own. 
“Kiss me then.” You whisper. 
He takes no time rushing forward and pressing his lips on yours. You inhale against him, breathing him in. 
His tongue licks into your mouth, massaging with yours. Your nose rubs against his cheek as you push further against him, wanting to get as close as possible. 
Eddie’s hand comes down to grab your left leg, his arm coming up underneath it to hold it up. He pulls away from your lips, pressing his forehead against yours and looking down in between you. You both catch your breath and stare down as his other hand reaches for his cock and guides it towards you. 
The head of his cock brushes against your folds, lapping your juices. Eddie’s head drops back and he groans out lowley. 
“Jesus Christ.” 
He lines up at your entrance and looks up at you quickly, watching your reaction as he slides into you. His arm holding your leg up tenses as your heat surrounds him. 
Your mouth drops open and your eyes squeeze shut as he pushes all the way in. Your breathing gets heavier as he bottoms out, his pelvis flush with yours. 
Eddie leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to your lips before pulling out slowly and pushing back in. He keeps a steady slow pace, his free hand holding your hip. 
Your leg aches from the stretch of being held up but it’s all forgotten when he starts moving faster. The echo of skin slapping each other can be heard throughout the bathroom, accompanied by your heavy breathing. 
He keeps fucking hard and fast. His hand on your waist trails down to your crotch, sliding to your clit. His fingers begin circling the nub in rhythm with his hips. 
You let out a moan, “Fuck, fuck, Eddie.” 
You feel the warmth in your core starting to unravel, getting closer to your release. 
He smiles at you and presses kisses along your jawline. 
A thud of a door can be heard in the distance and Eddie’s hips stop their movements, as he listens out for more noise. 
The door to the ladies’ bathroom opens and closes and someone walks in and enters the cubicle next to yours. The side of Eddie’s face is pressed against the side of yours, his mouth hovering over your ear. 
“Better keep quiet. Don’t wanna get caught, do ya, baby?” He whispers. 
His fingers start playing with your clit again, but his hips stay still, keeping his cock deep inside you. 
You bite your lip to prevent a moan as he keeps toying relentlessly with your swollen nub. 
You can hear the rustling in the next stall and the toilet flushes. The person very slowly makes their way out to wash their hands and it feels like forever until they finally leave the bathroom. 
You release a loud breath as the door shuts. 
“Oh my god.” 
Eddie laughs and brings a hand up to hold your hip as he starts fucking back into you. 
He continues pounding into you, his lips pressing all over your face and then landing on your lips. He licks filthily into your mouth, groaning at the taste of you. 
He pulls back slightly, breathing against your mouth. His hips show no sign of slowing down as his hand comes back down to your clit. 
“Gonna fill you up.” He says. 
You nod at his statement, your noses brushing each other. “I want it.” 
His fingers on your clit start rubbing fast and furious, his hips starting to stutter as he gets closer to his orgasm. 
Your walls tighten around him and he hisses. 
The white heat inside you grows and soon you feel it flowing over. You moan out into his mouth and he breathes it in. 
“Fuck! I’m coming, I’m coming.” You cry. 
His hips fuck you through your orgasm and he comes undone just after you. 
His come paints your insides, filling you to the brim. He moans out your name, breathing heavy against you. He keeps moving slowly inside you, milking himself dry before slumping against you, his face hiding in your neck. 
Your hand comes up to cup his head as you both try to catch your breath. 
He gently pulls out of you and you feel his come dripping out of your hole. You grimace at the loss. 
He lets down your leg, very slowly and you feel the soreness in your thigh radiate down your leg. 
You lean against the wall and watch as he pulls his jeans up. He reaches down and grabs your jeans and panties, handing them to you. 
As you slide your pants back on he kisses at your neck and face and you laugh as you awkwardly hop into your clothes. 
“Eddie.” You giggle. 
He laughs too and holds your hips. He tilts his head as he looks down at you and reaches one of his hands up to push your hair from your face. 
“You’re beautiful.” He says it almost accidentally, like he can’t keep the words from spilling out. 
You smile up at him. “So are you.” 
That makes him smile bright, his eyes creasing at the edges. 
You stand there with no shoes on in Benny’s diner’s bathroom and stare up at your best friend. 
“Back to yours?” He asks. 
You nod. “Yeah.” 
“Okay.” He says before he kisses your forehead. 
5K notes · View notes
naturesqueen23 · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
A Second Chance PT 3
Summary: After the loss of his daughter Miguel wants nothing to do with kids that is until he impulsively offers his pregnant neighbor a job at the Spider-Society.
Tags for this chapter: Grumpy x Sunshine, Double life, Secret Identity, Fluff, AGNST AGNST AGNST(I teared up while writing this), Miguel x reader, Spiderman 2099 x reader, Mentions of Domestic Violence 10.1k words (I just had a lot to say for this ch.đŸ€·đŸŸâ€â™€ïž I hope you guys enjoy it. I wanna say Thank You for the love and support that I have been receiving from each of you and we are only on ch 3 it's crazy. Enjoy loves<333)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Miguel is out of his element. Truthfully he doesn't even know why he's here. It's been a week since he's last seen you. Or rather it's been a week since Spiderman has last seen you maybe even more but truthfully he hasn't been keeping track. Since then he has seen you basically every day and still, to this day he doesn't know why he decided to walk you home. Every. Single. Night. Monday-Friday. Some days he doesn't even go up to the bar; sometimes he lingers in the shadows at the far end of the room, allowing the music to drown out his thoughts of work. He just stands there watching to see if any man tries to cause you harm.
It's insane really. He doesn't know how it has come to this. He made up his mind that he was only going to watch you go home from afar as Spiderman. But it didn't feel right. With the lack of his Spidey senses, anything could happen to you while he's leaping from roof to roof. He doesn't know why he's like this. He has no reason to do this, none whatsoever
. it just doesn't make any sense. But he narrowed it down to it being his Civic duty to watch out for you
his pregnant neighbor.
So now he stands here using an hour from his “break” after he just dropped you home at a flower shop. Searching for a flower for you. Well, he's not exactly going to give it to you Spiderman is. Surprisingly he felt
.bad after leaving your place so abruptly he didn't mean to but he doesn’t feel like explaining why he left either. Truthfully he doesn't even know how to explain it; he's not fully ready to talk about what happened. It's best to keep all those years and all those memories he made locked away. As much as he cherishes them it brings him pain, more pain than he likes to admit. It's been years and it still hurts and he doesn't know when it will stop hurting only time will tell.
He takes a deep breath as he tries to clear his mind but easier said than done. He stares at the rows of flowers in front of him as he decides what he should get. This is the best that he can do. Miguel isn't one to apologize, he knows that anyone who knows him knows that, and everyone at Spider-Society knows that. So the next best thing that he thought of that is close to apologizing is getting you a gift. He remembers your words back at the bar about getting a woman something they need or doing something nice for them. He also remembers you stating that “every woman likes flowers” Hopefully that statement rings true to you.
He decides to get you a single rose. It's easy, simple, and practical. A bouquet of roses would be too much and he doesn't want to send you the wrong message. Walking out of the flower shop with the rose in hand he looks down at the small bag that he has. It's filled with a pair of slippers that he brought for you. This is beyond weird and out of his comfort zone. Honestly, there's a small part of him that wants to forget about all of this and goes back to what he does best being Spiderman and holding everything all together.
‱°~°‱
It's Wednesday afternoon and you're sitting in your living room on the floor with your back resting on the couch with your homework sprawled out on your brand-new coffee table. You tried to sit and do your homework at the kitchen counter on one of the stools but it hurts your back. So you decided to get a coffee table high enough where you could sit comfortably on the floor and not strain your back in order to lean over it.
These past 2 weeks have been extremely weird but fun at the same. Your annoyingly rude neighbor has been walking you home from work since 2 weeks ago. There are some days that you don't even see him at the bar but he always happens to be outside waiting for you with a scowl on his face. There are times when you guys walk in silence despite the Goodnights you send his way while you're both unlocking your doors which he doesn't return. But there were nights when you ended up talking the whole walk home. Or rather it's just you talking about your day and him humming in response to certain things. Is it pathetic to say that you enjoy walking and talking with him? Even though he's showing minimal signs that he actually cares about the words that are coming out of your mouth
.it's just nice to have a person be there for you. He has to care just a smidge right since he's walking you home every day? Not once has he been late or made you wait on him. But it is weird that he hasn't given you his name. Maybe it is naive of you not to know anything about the man who lives next door and allow him to walk you home every night. However, if he wanted to kill you, you're positive that he would've done so already.
You're now 22 weeks, you'll be 23 in 2 days. Your baby girl is the size of a papaya and weighs 1 pound. Each chance you get you've been on the internet researching facts about what to expect at 22 weeks. Apparently, your baby can tell the difference between light and dark. Your baby girl can now hear everything you say. It's truly amazing how your body is creating this little human being from limb to limb you're just so excited to see and to feel her grow. But you've also noticed some changes within your body like your belly button for example. Your belly button is now sticking out and you don't know whether you should laugh or cry about it.
While you're writing your paper for class your eyes dart to your window. “I swear I just saw red and blue” You narrow your eyes. The only person who you could think of is Spider-Man but you haven't seen or heard from him in weeks since he left your place in a hurry last time.
You get up gently pushing your work over to the side to inspect the window. While walking you see Spiderman placing a bag down and something else that you can't really see from where you're standing on your fire escape. He knocks on the window and swings away. You power walk over to the window to catch him. You stick your head out twisting it as you see a flash of red and blue land on the roof. Is he running away?
“Spidey is that you?” You sit there in silence waiting for a response but when you don't get any you let out a sigh before continuing.
“I saw you, you know.
I'm not mad at you or anything so you can come in if you want?” Slowly you withdraw your head from the window and your eyes dart down to the blue bag and red rose. Oh, he got this
..for you? You slowly pick up the rose and give it a light sniff. You always love the smell of fresh flowers. Reaching over to take a peek inside the bag you gasp when you see him landing on your fire escape in a crouching position. Or more so the signature Spiderman pose.
A small smile emits on your face as you look at him. Even though things were weird when he left so abruptly, you're not mad at him.
“Hi
.it's nice to see you again” You look at the rose in your hand and the bag that's sitting in between the two of you and point to it.
“Did you get this for me?” His head turns to the side as he nods his head yes.
“It's on your window seal so
”
“Well
thank you you didn't have to get me anything, can I look inside the bag?” He says nothing as he just nods his head. Gently placing the rose on the windowsill you slowly take a peek inside immediately taking in the color. Pulling it out you realize it's a pair of bright red fuzzy slippers. A smile breaks out on your face as you run your fingers through the faux fur. Letting out an excited squeal you look up getting ready to show him your appreciation.
“This is so nice
.you know in the last 2 weeks since I've seen you my feet have gone up about two sizes” You go to put it on but realize there's a piece of string holding the two slippers together you don't want to accidentally trip so you'll have to cut it.
Stretching out your hand with the slippers you hold it out to him. “Can you maybe pull it apart so that the string can-” You're cut off when you hear an unsheathed sound. You stare at his fingers and notice how sharp they now look. Are those claws? In a swipe of a finger the string that was holding your slippers together is cut in half.
“Y-You have claws?”
“Yes”
“Have you always had them?”
“Yes”
You tilt your head at his words. You've never seen them before, where does he hide it? “How come I've never seen them before
.like ever on your hands?”
You hear him sigh before he speaks. “I've never had a reason to use them when I'm with you”
“Oh
..that makes sense” You bite down on your lip deciding on your next choice of words. “Can I see-”
“Put on your slippers” You feel your face heating up as you nod your head and drop your slippers on the floor so you can put it on. You begin to wiggle your toes, the fur and the padding of the slippers make it feel like you're walking on pillows.
“Thank you, these feel so soft” You look down at your feet to look at them placing a gentle hand on your stomach. “And they're so pretty
.you know the red kind of looks like the red on your suit” You let out a small giggle you grab the bag and the rose from the window seal and walk over to the kitchen counter. You're looking for a cup to put the rose in. While you're digging through the cabinets you look over at the window and realize that he's still outside.
“You can come in you know
I don't bite” You turn your attention back to the cabinets finally retrieving a glass tall enough to hold the rose. You fill it up with water and place the rose inside. You turn around to place it on your kitchen island but then jump back in Surprise when you see Spider-Man standing on the opposite side with his hands across his chest.
You place a hand over your chest as you exhale. “My goodness
for someone so big you make little to no noise” He says nothing as you try to place the glass in the middle.
You step back to examine whether or not it's straight. “Is it in the middle?” You watch as he lowers his head to look at the glass before nodding his head. You whisper a thank you before resting your hands on the island. Silence fills the air as you look around your apartment. Jeez, it looks almost bare there's no art on the walls no pictures no decorations nothing. It doesn't look homey. You don't want your daughter to grow up in a place like this. You need to get more decorations before she finally gets here. But she needs clothes, bottles, and shoes. You don't even know if you're going to be breastfeeding or not but you got a container of formula just in case. Let's not forget about the crib and the stroller. There's only so much you can spend every two weeks on her cause you still have rent to pay each month and let's not talk about the price for groceries. You’re already halfway through your pregnancy and yet-
“You're stuck in your head” You look up at him and sigh making your way over to the couch.
“You're right
.I am. I just have a lot going on” You go back to sitting on the floor your back resting on the couch. You lean your head back and close your eyes. When you open them he's right in front of you. He's standing on the opposite side of the couch staring directly at you. Or at least you think so.
“Would you like to sit?” He slowly drags his face down to the space next to you. He sits down looking straight ahead, his elbows resting on his knees and his head hanging low.
“You should talk about it
you're pregnant”
“Huh
what does that-”
“The baby” He points to your stomach before continuing. “.....the stress won't be good for you
and for her”
You nod your head and gently caress your stomach. “I know but it's hard I just have so much stuff to worry about before she gets here and it feels like I have nothing done and-” You turn your head away when you feel your eyes beginning to water and your bottom lip quivering. “I'm sorry I know you don't want to hear me talk about this or talk in general”
“When did I say that?”
“The first day you said I talk a lot so whenever you come over I try to dial it back a little bit”
“Oh
right
well you can go ahead”
“Are you sure? I mean It's fine I don't want to burden you with my troubles” He says nothing as he stares at the ground. You turn your attention back to your work in front of you eager to put your mind elsewhere. Tucking your curls behind your ears you pick up your pen and begin to start writing.
“No you can get whatever it is off your chest it's not best to keep things in” Slowly turning to face him you realize he's looking at you now. You exhale before turning your body to face him resting your right elbow on the couch cushion and your other hand on your stomach.
"I can't see her growing up here. It's a lovely space but it feels so bare apart from the little I've done with my bedroom and the nursery. I don't want for her to only see white walls for the first few months of her life but there's only so much that I can do. I’m already 6 months into my pregnancy soon I’m going to get even bigger cause she’s going to continue to grow and her room isn't even halfway done yet. I’m trying Spidey—I really am but it’s just so hard. T-Then I have to think about when she finally gets here and I can’t work for god knows how long. But what makes things even worse is that she feels whatever I’m feeling and she can hear now too. I know she’s not fully developed yet but I don't need her feeling like a burden already and-” You pause when you feel snot slowly coming out of your nose. This has to be one of the most embarrassing moments of your life. Yes, you're in the comfort of your home but getting a running nose in front of Spiderman
.seriously?
Quickly you cover your nose with your hand and sit up so you're no longer leaning on the couch. “Oh my goodness I probably look like a mess” You turn your head looking for any sign of the box of tissues you have. “Sorry, but have you seen-” You watch as he uses his webs to get the box of tissues from off the kitchen counter. He hands it to you without saying a word. You mutter a thank you and you watch as he stares at your coffee table. Sighing as you finish wiping your nose and eyes you lean back on the couch.
“Listen I’m sorry for dumping this all on you
if you need to leave then by all means
” Your voice trails off as you stare straight ahead. You don’t think you can look at him right now. You know he said to talk about it but did you really have to go and tell him every single thing?
“No
I don’t think I need to get back right this second” A beat passes before you see him straighten up and lean back on your couch. His head facing your direction his chest rising and falling with every breath that he takes. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course, you can”
“When you got scanned by Lyla it gave me facts about you. It says that you’re married
where is he?” Oh out of all the questions he could've asked you this would've been the last one you expected. You take a deep breath there's no reason to get worked up over this people were going to ask about the father anyway. At least it's Spider-Man.
“I don't know where he is but unfortunately legally we're still together because I couldn't get a divorce”
“What do you mean you couldn't get one?”
“He wouldn't allow it I tried to I really did but it's hard to go up against him when everyone is afraid of him”
“Are you afraid of him?” You look away, does he really expect you to answer that? You turn your attention to your nails picking at them slowly trying to remove yourself from the conversation.
“I had my moments in which I was afraid of him
.but not anymore” You sigh as you continue to pick at your nails. Silence fills the air and just when you think he's going to drop it he doesn't.
“What did he do to you to make you afraid of him?” You think about this question all the time and of course, you know the answer. You've been with him for 9 years. All four years of high school and as soon as you both graduated you got married. Not once did he show you any signs of his aggressive behavior that you would see frequently when you were married. Not once. But you should've known some of the signs were there. You were just too in love to see it.
You clear your throat trying to swallow back down your pain. The pain that you had to endure for all those years. “Oh um, nothing much
.he was just really controlling that's all. He had to know who I was talking to, he had to know when I was talking to them. My money was his and not ours. He was just very controlling” You pause for a moment before continuing. “That's all—that's all that it was” As your words echo throughout the room you're in your brain trying to figure out if you said those last words for Spiderman or for you.
For a while, he doesn't say anything and you don't either. Maybe you're both processing what you just said. You see him moving in his seat out of your peripheral and you turn to look at him. “Did he put his hands on you?”
You feel your eyes refill with tears. “Please Don't”
“Answer me did he-”
You begin to shake your head waving a hand in dismissal. “Spiderman please not today I already put her through so much earlier just not right now
please?” You watch as he lowers his head before narrowing his eyes. It isn't until you feel her moving around that you realize he's staring at your stomach. Her movements can be seen clearly through the tank top that you're wearing that's clinging to you. You place a gentle hand on your belly as a small laugh escapes your lips.
“You see she even agrees with me
.Spidey for her please don't” He opens and closes his fists multiple times before getting up.
“Wait I don't want you to leave angry”
“I'm not angry” He folds his arms across his chest and faces you. If his mask was off you're pretty sure he would've been staring deep into your soul.
“You sure sound like it
wait I want to show you something don't leave yet” You quickly wipe away your tears before you turn around on the floor bracing yourself on the couch cushions. When you're finally up you walk past him and point at him. “Don't leave yet I mean it”
He rests his hands on his hips and juts his head in the direction that you were walking in. “Hurry up before I change my mind then” You nod before patting him on the shoulder. You walk into your bedroom to retrieve a flashlight. You return back to the living room to find him leaning on the wall next to the window. Walking over to him you hand him the flashlight and rest your hands on your hips.
“Point the flashlight at my stomach and turn it on”
“What
my goodness no”
“Please? It's not hurting her” His eyes narrow and he stands there for a minute with the flashlight in hand. He sighs before finally turning it on and instantly she begins to move. All her movements are seen through your shirt. “Now turn it off” When he does she stops immediately and you smile. “Now do it again” He does and then instantly she starts moving again. He turns it off before you tell him to.
“Isn't that cool she can react to light and dark now. I found out yesterday on accident but I called my doctor to make sure she's okay and she said yeah it's normal” You pause as you feel her kick and you rub small circles on your stomach. “Isn't it amazing?” You stare at him waiting for a response but all he does is hand you back the flashlight.
“It's
okay” You roll your eyes playfully. “It's more than okay that means she's developing well I think she's going to be tall though I dunno I just think my bump is big for 22 weeks even though I'll be 23 weeks on Friday” You both stand there for a moment staring at each other it isn't until his watch starts beeping that lets you know that it's time for him to go. He begins to get off the wall and turns to the window. As he opens the window you place a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“Hey Spidey
..I just want to thank you for listening and for understanding. This was the most I told anyone and I've only seen you only a handful of times. I haven't even told the guy I've been seeing practically every day for months. I mean granted we only started having conversations for about 2 weeks but still. I trust you a lot. I really do, I just need time.” He stops dead in his tracks and slowly turns to look at you.
“You're dating right now

.seriously?”
You give him an incredulous look and your eyes almost bug out your head. “Dating what—no I'm talking about my neighbor. I saw him every time I came home from work and now he's been walking me home for some time. I've seen him more than you but I told you first because I trust you” You give him a small smile and he turns his attention back to the window.
“Oh you're neighbor
you don't trust him?”
You shrug your shoulders. “Um, it's 50/50 sometimes he doesn't talk to me at all but I know he listens. He's just a uh
very strong character but he's my friend so”
“Friend..?”
“Yeah, he's my friend” You give him a small smile and begin rocking on your feet as you both stare at each other your eyes then dart down to his watch that's now flashing red. That can't be good.
“Spidey your watch” You point to it and you hear him crushing under his breath. “I have to go”
You nod your head in understanding and watch as he crouches on your fire escape. “Be safe out there Spidey” He gives you a nod before swinging away.
‱°~°‱
“You're late
.again what's going on you're never late when it comes to dealing with a canon event or anything for that matter. You wanna tell me-”
“Stop worrying about me Jess and let's get this situation under control” Miguel swings away from Jess going to join the other spiders on the opposite side. He hates when people question him and he sure as hell isn't going to give her an answer.
By the time everything is under control Jess is once again in his ear as he's heading out on his way to the bar to see you.
“Not only have you been willingly going on your break you've changed your set time that you had for almost a year. Now you're leaving early sometimes you even show up late. I'm concerned all this change isn't like you. You like structure, you like a set plan you hate when things change. I'm not speaking to you as a comrade, I'm speaking to you as a friend
. what's going on?” Maybe if he'll ignore her she'll go away.
“Miguel I'm speaking to you”
He stops. “And I'm speaking to you as a boss to leave me alone” He continues to walk out of his office with Jess hot on his heels. Just when she begins to walk away Lyla pops in.
“He's hanging out with a girl”
“Lyla”
“You're hanging out with who?”
“A girl who happens to be his neighbor”
“She's his neighbor?”
“Lyla cállate por favor”
“Yes and guess what
she's pregnant”
“He got her p-pregnant no
.Miguel wouldn't-” Miguel puts his fingers to his temple he feels like his head is going to explode if he doesn't get out of here.
“Leave me alone I didn't get anyone pregnant and I'm not hanging out with anyone so please”
“Miguel that still-” He lets out a huff and swings away. He can't sit here and deal with all of this.
‱°~°‱
By the time he finally reaches the bar, he's late by almost an hour. He usually arrives in the last 3 hours of your shift. The minute he steps into the bar he takes in the tense atmosphere it feels like it can be cut with a knife. There are barely any seats left and it's 5 in the morning usually the crowd would start dimming out by now. Miguel waits in one of the corners of the room in order to blend in the shadows like he usually does although with his height it doesn’t do much. When his eyes land on you he slowly takes you in. You’re wearing a fitted short-sleeved black dress and your curls are pulled up into a small puff while some curls frame your face. Even in all black because of your fitted dress, your bump is extremely noticeable you look quite huge and with time he knows that you’ll get even bigger you are only six months in.
He doesn’t know what to do about the information you told him today. Your husband sounds like something he’d step on and fight to get off the bottom of his shoes. Although you didn't confirm it he knows. He would never understand what kind of man would put their hands on a woman a man who would put his hands on his wife. Any man who has to put their hands on a woman no longer holds the title of being a man. He sees them as a wimp, a useless placeholder.
If it isn’t a life or death situation, if it isn't for defense no man should raise their hand at a woman or use their strength against her.
If he ever finds him he has no control over what he may do to him. But now be realizes he's probably the reason you flinched when he raised his hand all those months ago. He is pulled out of his thoughts when he sees a free seat at the bar open up. Making a beeline for it he brushes by some of the men and women walking around before finally reaching the chair. He sits down as quietly as possible he doesn’t need to gain your attention you’ll end up seeing him eventually.
Miguel sits and watches as you do your thing. Effortlessly gliding around the bar as you hand out drinks and make them while engaging in conversation. The minute you end up in front of him your eyes widen just a little before returning back to normal.
“Hey neighbor you want the usual?” He stares at you before slowly nodding his head. You give him a small smile before making his drink and taking another order. He forces his eyes to analyze the wood in front of him. When you finally hand him his drink he slowly sips on it as he tries not to eavesdrop on your current conversation.
Finally, as the minutes pass by and the number of patrons dwindles he watches as you take a seat on a stool that’s inside of the bar resting a hand on your stomach as a small smile emits on your face. His eyes dart down to your stomach and realize that
.she’s moving. The child that is growing inside of you. Even in your all-black outfit, the movement is subtle but it’s there. He can’t help but watch as you talk to her fascinated by the sight.
“I know you’re hungry
.just 30 more minutes and we'll eat something okay?” You lean your head forward just a bit sighing as you rub your stomach. You stop when you look at him and give him a soft smile. He does nothing but stare back at you. You're weird
..you're always smiling no matter what time of the day it is, it doesn't matter if it's morning or night you always have a smile on your face. But as his eyes remain on your lips he takes in the color. Red. Once again you are wearing red lipstick. Forcing his eyes away from them he drags it up to meet your eyes and watches as you slowly get off of the stool dragging it behind you as you make your way toward him.
“You walking me home tonight neighbor?” He scoffs he isn't walking you home he never has been it just makes no sense to leave you when you're both going in the same direction.
“I don't walk you home so stop saying that” You roll your eyes at him and lean forward resting your elbows on the bar.
“You do walk me home there's no way you come to a bar drinking 3 glasses of whiskey-”
He cuts you off. “4 glasses”
“Right 4 glasses of whiskey each night Monday-Friday
..if so that means you have a serious problem buddy”
He shrugs his shoulders. “Well I have a serious problem then”
You let out a huff as you tuck some of your loose curls behind your ear before placing a hand on your stomach. “Well anyways we're hungry so can we stop by a cafe and get something to eat I don't feel like making anything right now”
“Why are you asking me? Do what you want”
“I know but we're walking home together, it's common courtesy to ask you” He rolls his eyes as he sips his drink.
“It's whatever I don't care”
“Am I any step closer to learning your name?”
“The more you keep talking the further away you become” He watches your eyes light up.
“Oh so I have a chance then”
“Unfortunately”
“Can I guess?”
“No”
“Hmm, Jamal?” He ignores you sipping on his drink.
“Okay, so that's a no um what about Christopher?” He rolls his eyes as he looks away from you.
“Please stop”
“No, can you give me a hint at least?”
“Definitely no”
“C’mon the faster I figure it out the faster I’ll stop bugging you about it”
He sighs as he places down his glass staring down at you. Even while you're both sitting he has to look down on you. “You can have my last name” You give him an incredulous look. “Just because you’re super tall that doesn’t mean I want to marry you you have to have a good personality as well”
“What are you talking about I—I don’t
.” He pauses as he analyzes you, narrowing his eyes when he sees you biting your lips as you slowly turn your head to the side.
He folds his hands across his chest as he sends a look of disapproval your way. “You’re not funny” The minute he opens his mouth you begin to laugh. “You should’ve seen your face” You rest a hand on your stomach as you lean forward resting your elbow on the bar. Miguel fights the urge to lean back
..you’re too close and just for a split second his eyes dart down to your lips. Just for a split second. His eyes slowly drag up your face to meet your eyes and when he gets there he finds you raising your eyebrows at him.
Shit.
“Were you just-”
“No” He turns his head away from you cursing himself when he feels his face heating up his ears are going to turn red like they always do if he doesn't calm himself down.
“You were
.but you know I'm just going to pretend like that didn't just happen. Jeez, I forgot you are a man” You pause as you give him a once-over leaning a little bit forward and giving him a smug look. “Just to be clear you aren’t falling in love with me, right? I mean I would understand you’ve been walking me home for the past 2 weeks and we have-”
“Congratulations your pregnancy has finally taken over your brain”
You roll your eyes. “Oh lighten up, anyone would know that I’m joking. For someone who gives Bigfoot a run for his money, I don’t think there’s a funny bone in your body. You’re just filled with seriousness and sarcasm” He could never predict the things that would come out of your mouth. Bigfoot
seriously?
“You're very close to getting left behind tonight”
“You said the same thing two nights ago and-”
“Hey woman can you maybe get off your ass and pour me a drink I feel like I’m going to die of thirst” You both slowly turn your heads to the man that is only a few stools down from Miguel. Miguel tightens his hold on his glass as he watches the playfulness drain from your face as you slowly get off your stool. He watches as you slowly drag the stool back to the far corner of the bar. Why aren’t you saying anything? There is no way you’re going to let that man talk to-
“One this woman has a name and two respect is a two-way street I’m not going to serve you if you’re going to act like this”
“Well it looks like we're going to be here all night then actually as a matter of fact
..catch”
The minute Miguel sees the man's hand drawback he springs out of his stool, the force alone knocking it backward. By the time he reaches out his hand to grab onto the man's wrist, he chucks the beer glass towards you. Miguel watches in horror as the glass hurtles through the air towards you and it feels like it’s happening in slow motion. He sees the glass hit the wall just mere inches from your head. The minute he hears your scream the minute he sees you huddle over in fear and the minute he sees your hands protectively covering your stomach and face he loses it. He grabs the man by the back of his neck and slams him face-first into the bar. Miguel can hear the sounds of chairs knocking over and scraping against the floor as people are leaving.
“SHE IS WITH CHILD YOU FUCKING IDIOT” Getting close up in his face Miguel makes sure the man can see every inch of his own there’s no doubt that his eyes are red right now but he doesn’t care. Miguel adds more pressure to the back of the man's neck; the urge to unleash his talons and allow them to sink into his flesh is growing larger and larger as he feels his pulse quicken.
“I-I didn’t know she was p-pregnant”
He scoffs. “Anyone with 2 fucking eyes would know that she’s pregnant”
“H-Hey man I r-really didn’t know” Miguel uses the hand that's on the man’s neck to lift him up till his feet are no longer touching the floor. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t know” Gaining satisfaction when the man begins trembling in his hands he squeezes even more. The blood from the man's face is slowly trickling down onto Miguel's hands and down his arm. But Miguel doesn't let that stop him if anything it adds fuel to his fire.
“LOOK ME IN THE FUCKING EYES AND TELL ME THAT YOU DIDN'T KNOW” The smell of urine hits his nose and he watches in disgust as the man's jeans darken. It isn't until he hears you sniffle that he feels his fire beginning to dimmer. Speaking loud enough so that the man can hear him Miguel focuses all of his energy in his hand to allow only one talon to emerge. He presses it into the man's neck just enough to prick his skin and draw blood.
“If she or her baby is hurt you will lose your ability to speak and that's a promise” The minute Miguel finishes the man loses consciousness and slumps in his hand and he drops him immediately. Forcing himself to take a deep breath he counts to 10 before taking careful steps towards you. He stops until he's in front of you. He hates how small and fragile you look right now curled over in fear
.he can't help but think this is how you look when your husband-
Sighing he hesitantly places a gentle hand on your shoulder. Slowly you look up at him with tear-filled eyes cradling your stomach. He narrows his eyes, assessing you to check if you have any cuts. He carefully flicks a piece of glass off your shoulder. Just as he opens his mouth to speak the front door bells chime and he watches as your boss walks in. Great, that's just what he needed.
‱°~°‱
You imagined your night ending with you locking up the bar as your neighbor rushed you out the door. You didn't however expect to have a large beer glass thrown at you in the process. It wasn't the sound of the glass hitting the wall a few feet away from your head that made you scream, it was a sudden wave of PTSD from the nights that your ex-husband would come home and sometimes throw things at you whenever things didn’t go his way.
Cradling your stomach protectively you look up at your neighbor as he places a gentle hand on your shoulder. His arm has lines of blood on it and from what you heard it isn't his. You couldn’t bear to look the minute you heard the crunching of bones you knew you had to look away. You never knew he had a violent side... Well, you suppose everyone has one but still.
You open your mouth to say something but the sound of the front door bells interrupt you. The minute you see who it is you feel panic beginning to set in. It’s your boss. You quickly brush your neighbor's hand off of you and you grab onto his forearm to get yourself from off the floor. There’s an unconscious man on the floor. There are pieces of glass everywhere and of course, this had to be the moment when your boss walked in. You pause as you feel a hand on your wrist.“Wait hold on-” You brush off your neighbor once again as you slowly and hesitantly walk over to your boss while trying to make sure you don’t step on any glass.
“Care to explain to me what the fuck is going on in my bar”
“Listen I know that this may seem like a lot but just give me a second to explain-”
“Go on then explain yourself but I can tell you right now that it's not looking so good for you”
You swallow nervously as you wipe your hands on the ends of your dress before opening your mouth to speak. “ I-I was just resting my feet when all of a sudden a c-customer was being very rude to me and he ended up throwing a glass at me and then my friend-”
“Well, you must've done somethin' to him for him to throw a glass at you” You stare at your boss in disbelief. You did nothing wrong. Nothing.
“I swear I didn’t do anything to him he was just being rude for no reason”
“So how did he end up unconscious on the floor with a bloody fucking face like you can’t be serious right? You won't have to clean up this mess I do” You try not to steal a glance at your neighbor as you're unsure of what to say next.
“Sorry that was by accident, my friend was just trying to defend me-”
“Oh, so he’s with you?”
Before you get the chance to speak you hear your neighbor taking a step closer. You can feel the heat radiating off of him on your back. You have a high feeling that whatever he says won’t be in your favor. “I am with her, is there a problem?”
Your boss ignores him and turns his attention back to you. “You’re going to pay for the damages done to the store and for his own damages”
“It was only a glass so yeah
.I’ll pay but I don’t think it’s fair that I’ll pay for-”
“I’m not asking, I'm telling you
.you know what as a matter you and your friend could leave. Just forget it. I know that you’ll clearly have trouble paying for anything. Lord knows you need the money” He points to your stomach and you take a small step back stepping on glass the sound alone makes you grimace. How could he say something like that? He doesn't even know you.
“You and your friend need to leave before I call the cops” You slowly nod as you begin to take off your apron tied around your waist. It is in your best interest not to argue with him.
“I can come in early for my next shift to help-”
“No, you won’t be coming back here at all, you're fired. I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt because you are pregnant but it seems like you are taking advantage of it. I already had to pay the security guard that walked home all those weeks ago and now I have to pay for this mess that you created. It seems like wherever you go you're bringing chaos with you. I'm done. I don't want any part of it.” You don't know if your ears are playing tricks on you. Maybe you're just having a really messed up dream and none of this is real. You stare at him in shock. You clearly remember offering to give the security guard money but he refused so then why did he lie to you? But what your boss said isn't true. You don't bring chaos wherever you go. It's never your fault, this is not your fault. This isn't your fault, right?
“W-Wait hold on I'm sure we can work something out-” He cuts you off by raising his hand.
“I said leave or else I'm calling the cops” You feel your skin grow hot as your eyes fill with tears. No no no this can't be happening you need a job now more than ever. Your baby girl will be here in just 3 months and you still have so much to get her.
“P-Please don't do this I r-really really need this job”
“I'm sure you do but that's no longer my problem. I'm sure there are people who want a pregnant woman. There's plenty of stuff for you to do maybe you can become a janitor and clean a couple of toilets before-”
“Watch your mouth” Too embarrassed to turn around and face him you keep your head forward. “Please just-”
“Oh, you just won't give it up. I don't want you anymore leave before I–”
You watch as your neighbor walks in front of you. With his height alone he stands in your line of sight of your boss so you can't see anything but his enormous back. “Before you what? I told you to watch your fucking mouth”
“And I told you to leave” You watch through blurry eyes as your neighbor opens and closes his fist. You get startled when you see him turning his body back towards you. “Go and get your stuff we're leaving”
You feel your tears fall down your face freely and land on the front of your dress. You lower your voice as you speak to him. “You don't understand I need this job I can't afford to lose it I–”
He lets out a deep breath. “I know
.but you'll only make it worse if we stay so go and get your stuff c’mon” You stay there for what feels like forever as you stare at him through your teary eyes and puffed-up face. To say you're embarrassed would be an understatement. You just got your heart and dignity shattered into a million pieces and he got a front-row seat. Feeling like you lost the most important battle of your life you slowly take off your apron taking out its contents. You get ready to walk to the bar to put your stuff down when you see your neighbor stretching out his hand. You hand your stuff to him and head to the back to get your bag.
Finally making it back you painfully haul your bag on your shoulder. You walk in with your head hanging low you don't have anything left in you to look at any of them. You stand in front of your neighbor, take the things you handed him, and put them in your bag. You both begin to head out the door without a single word. But before you get a foot out the door you turn around to face your boss.
You manage to choke back a sob as you open your mouth to speak. “C-Can you at least pay me for Monday and Tuesday?” Your boss sighs as he makes his way to the cashier. When he's done he stands a few feet away from you and does the most disrespectful thing ever. He tosses the money. You have to bite the inside of your mouth to prevent yourself from bawling out like a baby. How did it come to this? This wasn’t how this night was supposed to end at all. As you watch the bills float in the air all around you you almost stare at them in awe. This looks like a cinematic experience. Once the last few bills land on the floor, you slowly step forward and reach to pick them up. In another universe the minute you saw your boss throw the money in the air you would’ve walked out with your head held. You don't deserve this level of disrespect. But in this universe where it’s you and her you can’t. You can't afford to let your pride stand in the way, not when it comes to her. Not when this is all for her. Before your hand can connect with one of the bills on the floor feel a hand pull yours away.
“Don’t you dare” Too tired to protest you pull yourself away walk over to the front door and stand there resting your hands under your bump as you silently stare out the window.
When he's finally done you see him walk past you to the front door holding it open for you. When you walk enough distance away from the bar you watch him stop from your peripheral.
He silently hands you the money and you take it reluctantly and just shove it into your bag without bothering to count it. You try to wipe your tears but no matter how hard you wipe they just keep on falling. With a blurry vision you begin to walk but stop the minute you feel her kicking. It's subtle but you know it's her. You stand there resting your hands on your stomach waiting to see if she'll kick again. When you feel her again you begin to cry. It's still so early on but you feel like you already failed her.
“I’m sorry baby I swear mommy will figure it out I promise. W-We’ll be okay you hear me?” If you had the ability to sink to the floor you would've done so already the minute you stepped outside. This is all too much. You're just ready for this day to end. From talking about the memories you'd like to remain buried with Spiderman to now losing your job you just can't anymore just not today. You wipe your eyes with the back of your palm and your body goes rigid when you remember you're not alone.
You turn to face him and his expression is just so unreadable. He's just seen one of the lowest and most embarrassing moments of your life and yet he's still here. You're sure anyone would've walked away from 2nd hand embarrassment already.
“I'm sorry you had to witness all of that. I don't want to take up any more of your time so you can go home first. You don't have to wait for me or anything. I think I'm going to stay outside for a little while” He says nothing as he walks up towards you. You have to crane your neck to look up at him.
When he doesn't say anything you begin to grow nervous and wipe your hands on the side of your dress. You hate that your palms grow sweaty whenever you get really nervous. “Earth to neighbor is everything-”
“Are you guys okay?”
“W-What?”
“You
.and the baby is everything
.” You watch as his eyes dart down to your stomach.
“Oh yeah I think we're okay she seems fine I don't think there's any glass on us so” You shrug your shoulders as you rub your stomach you feel tears in your eyes threatening to fall all over again. You rapidly try to blink them away but of course you fail. You turn your head to the side, taking a step back as you hold a hand up to cover your face.
“I’m so sorry I'm a mess right now I don't—don’t want to be a Debbie downer and ruin your morning I'll just go. Thanks for everything have a good night.” You manage to give him a small smile before walking away. You already feel like the worst the last thing you need is to ruin your neighbor's morning but most importantly you don't want him to think that you’re blaming him. Cause you're not. That man had no right to throw that huge beer glass at you. He could've hurt your baby and if anything happened to her

You stop at the end of the street waiting for the light to change. Quickly you wipe away your tears and fold your arms across your chest. You try to push your emotions to the side to get a clear head. It's still dark out so you'll need to be on high alert-
“I thought you said you were hungry” You turn around and find your neighbor standing a few feet away from you. “I know I still am but I don't have it in me right now to go and get something to eat. I'll just make something at home” Once the light changes you both head across the street.
“It's fine you really don't have to walk with me to-”
“Stop talking I'm not leaving you” A beat passes before he speaks again. “Just focus on keeping yourself calm, the stress
..is no good” You nod along to his words and you both walk all the way home in silence.
‱°~°‱
Finally reaching back home as you both unlock your doors you stand there for a second to think about what you're going to say next. You need to say something to him.
“Thank you for today
..I know today was really weird for you to witness all of that go down had to be one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. I just have a lot going on right now as you can see so I completely understand if you don't want to be around me anymore. So uh thank you for tonight I would've been ten times worse if you weren't there” You turn around till you're facing him only to find him already looking at you.
“Well I can't exactly run away from you since we're neighbors so” He shrugs his shoulders before folding his arms over his chest. You manage to give him a small smile as you begin to rock on your feet. “Well I guess you're right
.well you're stuck with me for a little while longer then” He says nothing as your gaze locks with his. You stare at each other for a while and it sucks to not know what's going on in his head right now.
Deciding to break the staring contest you turn back around fully unlocking your door and stepping inside your apartment. “Have a good night” You close the door not bothering to wait for a response because you know you won't get one. The minute the door closes you feel your heart growing heavy in your chest as you look around your almost bare apartment. Just one problem after the next. You kick off your shoes and put on your red slippers. You take down your hair allowing your curls to cascade down your back as you go into your bedroom to grab your blanket.
You curl up to the best of your ability as you rest your head on the arm of the couch, your blanket swallowing you whole. All of the emotions that you felt throughout the day come flooding in and you can feel yourself wanting to cry all over again. You're trying, you really are
.but to lose your job in the time that you needed it the most is the worst thing that could ever happen to you. Maybe you should've just shut your mouth and ignored that customer and then maybe it wouldn't have gotten to this point. But you're tired of staying quiet and allowing men to treat you with no respect. You're so tired. You'll raise your baby girl to be stronger than you ever were. You want to raise her to walk around with her head held high and not cower in fear the minute danger comes but to face it head-on. After you spend this night
well morning wallowing in your cocoon of self pity when you wake up you'll try a little harder you'll get up and look around for any job openings. Doesn't matter if it takes you all day even if you end up with nothing at least you can say you tried.
‱°~°‱
Miguel never felt the urge to end a man's life so much in one night. It's insane how disrespectful people can be and the fact that you didn't do anything wrong makes it even worse.
He's now washing the dried blood that remains on his hands in the sink. Although he could have done more damage he's glad that he decided to hold off he doesn't want you to see that side of him. He doesn't want you to think that he's a monster. Truthfully he is surprised that you didn't look at him with disgust after seeing what he had done to the man.
Sighing he turns off the water and dries off his hands making his way over to the kitchen. Opening up his fridge he sees what he has left. Out of all the times his fridge has been fully stocked the moment he wants food now his fridge is almost bare. The only thing that's left is the extra empanadas he took from HQ. He opens the container and tries to ignore the amount of empanadas that are in there. 7 he took 7 extra empanadas from the cafeteria. Maybe he was hungry? Making sure that they are in good condition he decides on heating them up in the microwave. He's positive that you're still hungry and he's also positive that you didn't eat anything. Not after the evening you just had. Once again he has no reason to do this. His “break” is ending in approximately 5 minutes and if he doesn't want Jess to complain in his ear he needs to leave now. But for some reason he can't. Not while he knows that there's a pregnant woman just a few feet away who's hungry. That's all that this is once again it's just his Civic duty to watch out for you, his pregnant neighbor.
Miguel stands outside of your door for almost 2 minutes. What if you're sleeping and he accidentally wakes up, will you be mad at him? He knows that it can be uncomfortable to sleep when you're pregnant. Hesitantly he lifts up his hand to knock on the door just as he hears your voice from the other side.
“Neighbor, what are you
” He steps back and gives you a confused look when you open the door. How did you-
“Is everything okay? You've been standing out here for a while now”
“How did you know it was me?”
“I was on the couch when I saw the shadows of someone standing in front of the door. I was getting scared when they stood there unmoving for so long so then I checked and then yeah
..why were you having a staring contest with my door”
He rolls his eyes at your words and turns away. “There was something on your door I was taking it off”
“Oh really I didn't see-”
“It was new”
“Oh
well thank you” He watches as you nervously tuck your curls behind your ears as they frame your face. As he analyzes your face he notices that your eyes are bloodshot red and swollen. You've cried even more. He opens his mouth to speak before his brain has the time to formulate a response.
“I know a friend who's looking to hire” What the hell? He doesn't even have any friends. But he watches as your face slowly begins to light up.
“Really um do you know what it's for?”
“No
I just know he's hiring”
“Okay well is it possible that I know him or heard of him?” All he could do is nod. What in the world is he doing? The only friend he could think of is himself aka Spiderman.
“Oh well what's his name so I can-”
“Don't worry about it I'll let him know about you”
“If I had any more tears to shed I would be a sobbing mess right now. So thank you so much really” Miguel nods and for a second he just stares at you that is until he remembers what he really came here for. He stretches out his hand to give you the container.
“What's in it?”
“Food I had extras so
”
You take the container from him and open it. “Oh I love empanadas thank you
but you didn't have to do this You know”
“You said you were hungry so” He shrugs and scratches the back of his head watching as a small smile emits on your face.
“Listen I was being serious earlier
.don't go falling in love with me now-” Miguel immediately turns around and walks to his door. “I'm just saying this isn't like you” Miguel says nothing as closes his door. What in the world did he just do?
‱°~°‱
Taglist: @nxrdamp  @obsessedwithromance @kawaiibakadesign @dinuxia-bhm @mssbridgerton @timmytchalamalabingbong @brooklynscherry-z @youuuuuuuuuuu13 @botchedlove @shaldaar @serenity707 @miaasmf @v-justchilling @kittiowolf210 @thel0velykey190 @denzmallows @hyperfixationwhore @milkguzzlerr @thethundafromdownunda @megtheebimbo@beautifuleaglealpaca @promptly-mercy  @freehentai @narutofan249277 @autismsupermusicalassassin  @primrosesposts  @slipkknuttt @141sbarracksbunny @milkyardbetter @oharasfilipinawife  @amber-content @hysterical-reblogging  @barbaravicory @instanttimetravelpizza @velunis @yeletta @lililapuce @bvbdudette @sukunash0e @berry-potchy @angelaut0matec @unabashedcroissanttreefan @wordacadabra @lotus-99 @homewreckingwreck @jadeloverxd @thisistotesnotspam-heart @uhnanix @codenameredkrystalmatrix @e1f-boi @s0urw00lf  @migueloharacumslut @sleepingghoule444 @wandasupremacy @epidemic-reclus3
Since this is a new story I know some people might not want to be tagged anymore. So feel free to ask to get removed! If you would like to be removed from the tag list say "Remove" If you'd like to stay on it say "Stay" and if you'd like to be added say "Yes"
As always thanks for reading loves<333
With Much Love,
Cece❀
537 notes · View notes
jamdoughnutmagician · 1 year
Text
From Me to You.
Tumblr media
Eddie Munson x Female Reader
Summary:Eddie finds a love letter pushed through his locker, and he’s determined to find out who his secret admirer is.
Warnings: Nothing that I can think of, just tooth-rotting Valentine’s day fluff! Slight use of "y/n" sorry I couldn't escape it!!
Word Count:1,867
Authour’s Note:My life is so devoid of any kind of romance, so I though what better way to resolve that than to write some cutesy Valentine’s Day fic with everyone’s favourite metal-head? Maybe I'm posting this a little early, but I'm pretty pleased with how this turned out (since I suck at writing fluff) and I wanted to share it!
It wasn’t that you didn’t like Eddie, oh no, that couldn’t be further from the truth. However, having to admit to your crush on your best friend? Well that was a whole other story.
So, your big plan was to leave little secret admirer notes in Eddie’s locker in the week leading up to Valentine’s day on Friday. It was an easy way to confess your love to him, without the sting of rejection coming to bite you in the ass.
The Monday after your last class you waved Eddie goodbye as he made his way to the drama room where the Hellfire club would be meeting for their latest campaign. Although you didn't share his love of Dungeons and Dragons, you were still as close as friends could be, only you didn't want to be just his friend.
Waiting for him to disappear out of sight, you look around to check the coast is clear before you slip the hand-written note into his locker. Pushing the folded up piece of paper through the vented slats in his locker, you make your way out of the school. 
All you have to do now is just have to wait until tomorrow to find out if your little secret mission was successful.
_______
Eddie strolled into school that Tuesday morning, opening up his locker to put away his things, but as he did so, a small folded up piece of paper fell to the floor. Piquing his curiosity, he bent down to pick up the paper. Unfolding it carefully his eyes scanned over the nice hand-written message inside.
Your smile is my favourite thing and it brightens my day 
He glances at the swirling joined up writing and how the little hearts dot the I’s and he finds his face warming with a blush.
“What’ve you got there then, Ed?”  Gareth asks noisily, causing the rest of the members of Corroded Coffin to turn their heads to their lead guitarist.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Eddie says defensively as he stuffed the note in his pocket.
Holding his hands up in surrender, Gareth dropped the subject and they guys went about the rest of their school day.
_______
The next day, Eddie goes to open his locker and surprisingly another note falls at his feet. 
Quickly he bends to pick it up before anyone notices that he’s received another note. Unfolding the paper he reads the message.
You give me butterflies
He reasons that it must be the same person that it was from yesterday, because the handwriting is exactly the same and the I’s are still dotted adorably with the same little hearts.
As quick as his hopes get up at the thought of someone writing him little love notes,his thoughts are pulled in the direction that this must be some sort of prank. It had to be, right? Why else would anyone leave the school’s ‘freak’ sweet notes like this if not for some kind of twisted joke. 
Jason Carver and his gang probably thought the idea that someone might have a crush on Eddie, laughable. Yeah, he thinks to himself, that sounds more plausible.
Speak of the devil.
Jason and his crew make their way past him laughing loudly and obnoxiously. Right, that's it. 
Eddie stormed up to Jason, poking an accusing finger in his face.
“I bet you think this is really funny, don’t you Carver?” 
“What do you want, freak?” Jason barks out.
“You, leaving those little notes in my locker.” Eddie jabs.
Eddie looks at Jason for a moment, a look of genuine confusion gracing the features of the basketball player, his brows knitted together, before he huffs out an incredulous laugh.
“In your dreams, Munson” Jason laughs in his face as he pushes past Eddie. 
Okay
So maybe this wasn’t a joke. Well who was sending Eddie anonymous love letters?
_______
I want to hold your hands and kiss your face
Another day, another note. Eddie was still none the wiser as to who exactly was putting these love letters in his locker. Right, he thought to himself, he was going to need some help if he had any chance of finding out who this secret admirer of his was. 
Strolling through the doors of Family video, Eddie had decided to recruit the help of the only person he could think that would actually be of any help to him. Even if it did mean that he would have to show all the notes he’d received with Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.
“Wait, so let me get this straight. You’ve been getting anonymous love letters put in your locker?” Steve asks
“Well..yeah?” Eddie answers.
“...And you’re absolutely sure you have no idea who this is?” Steve presses.
“Well at one point I thought Carver was doing it, you know, for a joke..but I confronted him about it yesterday and that turned out about as well as you can imagine” Eddie explains
“Do you have some that you want it to be?” Steve quizzes, as he watches the metal-head’s expression change instantly, flushing scarlet rising from his chest to his cheeks and the tips of his nose. “Aha!” -Steve exclaims, jabbing his finger towards Eddie- “So you are thinking of someone then?”
Luckily, Eddie was saved from the embarrassment of admitting to his crush on one of his best friends by Robin interrupting his and Steve’s conversation.
“What are you two dorks gabbing about over there?” She shouts making her way from the back of Family video where she was rearranging a stack of horror films.
“Munson here has got himself a secret admirer.” Steve says, cocking his thumb towards Eddie. “Said he’s been getting these little love notes slipped in his locker” Steve continues with his teasing.
“Oooh!! Let me see ‘em!!” Robin squeals excitedly.
Scattering the piece of paper out onto the countertops, the boys watch as Robin reads through each of the messages. Her eyes scan over the words, and her eyebrows draw together, and her expression one of surprise.
“You alright over there, Rob? You look like you’ve seen a ghost, which considering what we’ve been through, is the last thing that should have you looking like that.” Steve joked.
“Shut up, Dingus.” Robin says, shushing Steve holding her pointer finger up at him. “Eddie, I think I might know who your secret admirer is.” 
The two boys look at Robin with wide eyes and bated breath.
Robin turns her back and hot-foots it to the back room of Family video.
“I thought you were going to tell us who it is?” Eddie shouts after his friend.
“Hold your horses will 'ya, Munson?!” she shouts back over her shoulder.
Robin returns with a wide grin gracing her freckled features as she slams down a sheet of A4 lined paper on the counter top.
“What the hell’s this?” Steve said, looking even more confused than before.
“These are the notes that I borrowed from y/n, for Kominski’s class yesterday. Now I don’t know about you guys, but I’d say that that swirly handwriting looks very familiar to me.” Robin says proudly, like she’s decoded the most cryptic of secret messages.
Eddie and Steve lean in closer to compare the handwriting in the love letters, to the handwriting in the classroom notes. 
 “I mean, apart from the little hearts that are dotting the I’s, I would say that is the exact same handwriting” Robin points out.
“So, y/n, huh?” Steve says, letting the thought hang in the air.
If Eddie was blushing before, his whole face must’ve looked like a tomato at this point, 
“Judging by your very red and embarrassed face, I’m going to guess that you like her too, right?” Robin asks.
Steve and Robin look at Eddie as he shyly scratches the back of his neck 
“Okay, yeah I like her..I like her a lot actually.”
“But isn’t tomorrow Valentine’s day?” Steve throws out.
“Oh this is perfect!” Robin jumps up and down excitedly. “Here’s what you’re going to do
”  she began as she brought Eddie closer to tell him her plan.
_______
Sticking to the plan that Robin (and Steve who got dragged into it by Robin) helped him with, Eddie got up early for school for once in his life. That morning he showered, and dressed in a clean Black Sabbath shirt (that he’d previously ironed that evening, earning a raised eyebrow from his uncle, and hung up ready to put on in the morning.)
Dressed and ready to leave, he picked up the bunch of red roses that he’d bought from the Valentine’s day section in town yesterday evening after leaving Family Video.
He’d called you and asked if you needed a lift on the way to school, and knowing you the way he did, you would much prefer to ride with him in his van than take the school bus.  
“Son..” Uncle Wayne called out to Eddie as he was just about to go through the door. “Good luck today, you be nice to that girl, alright?” His gruff voice huffs out.
“I will Wayne, I can promise you that.” Eddie throws over his shoulder with a wide grin as he makes his way to his van.
_______
Pulling up to your house, he parks his van and takes a moment to catch his breath before grabbing his bunch of roses and walking to your front door.
Squaring his shoulders he raises his knuckles to your door to deliver a confident knock. 
“I’m coming!!” he hears you shout from inside the house.
You unlock the door to see your best friend hiding his face behind a bouquet of beautiful red roses before handing them to you.
“These are for you. Happy Valentine’s day” he says as you kindly accept the flowers from him.
Although you had smiled when he’d given you the flowers, he could still sense your confusion at his gesture. 
“I got your notes
I thought they were really cute y’know and truth be told when I read them I kind of hoped they were from you.” he rambled, feeling that familiar heat flushing across his cheeks.
“How did you figure out it was me?” you ask.
“Well it wasn’t easy, but Robin and Steve helped me figure it out
mostly Robin, though..” he chuckles. 
There’s a moment's silence between the two of you where you’re both looking into each other’s eyes.
Feeling bold, you rise up on your tip-toes to place a quick peck to Eddie’s cheek. You feel him smile brightly under your lips.
“Thanks for the flowers, Ed. They’re beautiful” 
“You missed.” he says with a look of disappointment in his deep brown eyes.
“Huh?”
“You missed.” he says again, smirking as he points to his lips.
“Take me on a date first, and then we can see about that kiss, Ed” you giggle.
“Let me take you to the movies tomorrow? We can hold hands and do all that cute shit that you’re supposed to do on a first date” he looks to you excitedly.
“I’d love to!” 
“Great! I’ll come pick you up at seven?” 
“It’s a date” You smile back at him.
2K notes · View notes
withalittlehoney · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Never Too Tired For You
Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Strange x Fem!Reader
Warnings: SMUT! A singular glass of wine, dom/sub dynamic, rough sex turned soft sex, praise kink, size kink, Daddy kink, breeding kink-ish, subspace/subdrop, aftercare.
Word Count: 10,370
Reading time: ≈ 38 mins.
A/N: I hope you like part two of sugar daddy strange! i wanted to attempt writing subspace with my very own limited experience, and i felt like this stephen and reader were the perfect couple to try it out with! let me know if you like this or if you’d just prefer the nasty, hardcore stuff
 hehe.
18+ or i haunt you like a ghost from ur past <;3!
Tumblr media
It had become a regular thing. And despite your best efforts to convince him otherwise, Doctor Stephen Strange was intent on helping pay your way through life. Though, you couldn’t complain. You weren’t busting your ass to pay rent anymore and he’d even upgraded your living situation to a little townhome closer to campus when he’d seen your previous residence. Your student loans had been paid off and your next semester was secured with one transfer from his bank account to yours. And your only job was to take care of yourself and take the best dick of your life.
There were three rules

One, no clothes besides a robe, the lingerie he bought you, and his tees or sweatshirts when it was time to sleep or you wanted to be comfy.
Two, no wandering the sanctum without him— his room, the kitchen, and the library were fair play.
Three, no leaving before Monday morning unless for an emergency.
It felt like a dream.
You arrived at the Sanctum an hour early at four every Friday night and remained there until waking up for classes on Monday. For those three days, you were his, and he was very strict about time. He felt he never had enough time with you. He told you pretty early on that his interest in the deal was more than just the sex. He liked the companionship aspect as well and having the ability to provide for someone outside the mystical realm. And Doctor Strange was very agreeable in each of those areas. Mind-blowing, kinky sex? Check. Genuine and interesting conversation? Check. Monetary and emotional security? Check and check.
He— it— was perfect.
As soon as his bedroom door was open, you were at his side, “Well, hello there Doctor.” You smile up at him, giggling as the Cloak detaches from his shoulders and wraps you in a quick embrace before you get to Stephen, who shoves it out of the way, “How was today for the two of you?”
Stephen wraps his arms around your waist as you put yours around his neck, resting your cheek against his chest you can feel the vibrations as he replies, “Very, very long. We had a student set half of the greenhouse on fire.”
“I thought I smelled smoke
” You tease, “Then again, it always gets so hot when you walk into the room.”
A chuckle rumbles in his chest as he pulls back, grabbing your chin between his thumb and index finger and narrowing his eyes at you, “Real cute, Sweetheart.”
“Well, it’s true.” You murmur, reaching up and play with the hair at the nape of his neck, “Sexiest man I’ve ever laid eyes on, Doctor.”
“You get paid to say that.” He murmurs back, pressing his lips to your own roughly
You kiss him back happily for a moment before pulling away to remind him, “I believed that before the pay out, sir.”
“Mm, so you said.” He smiles
You preen like a happy cat as he runs his hand over the top of your head but sympathizes, “I’m sorry your student set the greenhouse on fire. Was anyone injured?”
“No, thankfully. Only the offenders ego was bruised.”
“Well, luckily I already have a nice, warm shower running for you. I’m going to run down to the kitchen and get us some snacks for when you get out, what do you think?”
He presses a kiss to your forehead, “That sounds perfect.”
“I set us up something different for our snack
” You say, placing your hands on his chest, “Just a little something special aside from the normal sandwich.”
Stephen’s face goes soft. He reaches up and runs his fingers across your cheek gently, “You didn’t have to do that, Sweetheart.”
“I know I didn’t have to.” You agree, “But I wanted to.” You stand up on your tiptoes and press a gentle kiss to his cheek, “Go hop in the shower, I’ll get everything set up out here.”
“Thank you, Baby.” He whispers, “Can you help get me undressed? I’m having a rough day with my hands.”
“Of course, Handsome.” You agree, taking his hands gently and pulling him toward the bathroom, “How about I give you an nice massage sometime tonight? Hm?”
Stephen gives a groan, “That would be amazing.”
You pull Stephen into the bathroom, the glass on the shower already fogged up, reminding you of a particularly thrilling shower scene the two of you had created once before. He’d been a big fan of it. You hadn’t realized what had him so crazy until after the fact when he murmured something about needing to get a mirror for the bedroom.
You recognized that Stephen could have easily snapped himself out of his robes, but you also recognized that as much as he loved caring for you, he loved being cared for in return. And you were perfectly happy to do little tasks like this for him. It made it feel personal— it made you feel like you were there for more than just your body. And you knew deep down you shouldn’t care either way. It was ridiculous to think of a man like Stephen Strange getting attached to anyone, much less someone who was essentially his high dollar whore. You pushed the thought away and gently pulled at his belt, letting it fall to the floor, moving slowly to slide his robe from his shoulders, running your hands over his chest and abdomen, watching him watch you. He helped you pull off his undershirt which you were far too short to get over his head of your own accord and placed a soft kiss over a healing scar from one of his latest missions— the first you’d been around for.
He’d refused your company the weekend he returned, but the next day you’d woken up to a pretty little lingerie set in a prettily wrapped box and money to go get your nails and hair done. However you wanted, he wasn’t that particular
 he’d simply requested you do whatever would make you happy.
You smiled to yourself fondly at the memory. He made plenty of sweet little gestures like that. And it was part of the arrangement, but it didn’t stop your heart from fluttering.
“You’ll have to take your briefs off yourself, Doctor.” You murmur, toying with the waistband, “I don’t know if I’ll be able to leave if I do.”
He gives a light laugh and places his hands over your own, “Don’t tempt me, Sweetheart.”
“You like to be tempted.” You argue, “You take it like a challenge.”
“And you take it like a champ when I give in.” He teases, leaning down and burying his face in the crook of your neck, “Such a good girl for me.”
You practically purr as he places light kisses along your neck, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to seduce me, Doctor.”
“You might not know as well as you think then.”
“Mm
” You push him away gently, “Shower, food, then we can have fun.” You say sternly, “Can’t have you too tired.”
“I’m never too tired for you, Baby Girl.” Stephen says, serving you a wink
“God, you’re so cheesy.” You roll your eyes
“You love it.” He insists, “Now run along and get everything prepared or I’ll have you bent over the sink in the next ten seconds.”
You quickly turn on your heel and skip out of the room like the obedient little girl you are, giggling to yourself the whole way to the kitchen.
You loved the weekends.
Tumblr media
Stephen smiled when he walked back into his room to find the little sitting area all set up for the two of you. The fire was lit, the couch pushed up closer, and a charcuterie board and two glasses of wine set up for the both of you. And then there was you, which was his favorite part of it all. You were laying all cozied up with a blanket covering your lower half, your robe hanging loosely off your shoulders exposing the lacy straps and cups of the new lingerie set he’d bought you last weekend. Bright red, because he couldn’t resist. It scram sex. And paired with your short, black, silk robe, it almost felt elegant in a way.
“Hey, Pretty Girl.” He greets, looking over the area you’d set up while he showered, “This is wonderful, thank you.”
You smile up at him, your eyes briefly dipping to his bare chest and begging to move lower. Only a pair of briefs situated on his lower half. Stephen only wore briefs as far as you’d seen, and you loved it. It was hard to hide anything with the tighter fit. His chest seemed to glow in the firelight, looking awfully warm and inviting. He wasn’t overly sculpted at first glance. It was clear he was largely composed of muscle mass, but it wasn’t in an intimidating way. But the slightest movements would send his muscles rippling— another thing you’d come to thoroughly enjoy. You held your arms up and made grabby hands for him. Stephen chuckled and walked over to the couch, sitting down and reaching over to wrap an arm around your waist. He pulled you over and rest your head against his chest, running his hands softly over your back.
“You look beautiful tonight, Baby Girl.” He murmurs, “And you prepared this little snack for us. When’d you have time for that?”
“I ran to the store straight after school.” You explain, “Just wanted to do something nice for you.” 
“Well, that’s very sweet.” He kissed the top of your head, “How’s school been?”
You give a sort of shrug and wrap your arms around his waist, “Fine. Not as stressful as it used to be having to work on top of it— thanks for that again.”
“No problem.” He chuckles
“But I’m
 I dunno’.” 
You give a deep sigh and Stephen frowns, “What’s wrong, Sweetheart?”
“I just
 I don’t wanna complain about anything. I don’t wanna sound ungrateful.”
He turns you so that you’re laying facing him, “What’s wrong? Is something wrong with
 us? Our arrangement?”
“Oh, Stephen, no!” You object, “Not at all, like I said, I’m very thankful. I just don’t get paid to lay here and complain about anything.”
His brows knit together and he brushes the hair out of your eyes carefully, “Sweetheart, I want you to talk to me. I want to listen to you vent and help if I can
 I want to take care of you.”
You hesitate a moment before admitting, “I’m just feeling
 unfulfilled at school. Bored. And I’m doing less than ever before, but I’m more exhausted than ever before. I don’t sleep like I used to and I just feel like
 like I must be doing something wrong.”
He nods and gives a sort of hum, pulling your head back to his chest and twirling a strand of your hair around his shaking finger. This was something you loved— liked— about Stephen. He always made an actual consideration before speaking. Sometimes, if you looked hard enough, you could see him working the issue through in his mind. It didn’t even need to be an issue, per say, just a conversation. His eyes would rove absently between the space as if he were reading from a book only he could see. If he truly lost himself in thought, his lips would move, and you’d sit there and stare in adoration as he spoke silently to himself.
“That happened to me once. I didn’t have responsibility after the accident— couldn’t have any responsibilities. I was restless and
 definitely felt unfulfilled.” You close your eyes and listen intently. You and Stephen never spoke much about the accident after your initial meeting, and you could tell his hands were a sore subject still. So to have him open up like this
 it meant a lot more to you than you thought it should have. “I didn’t start sleeping again until Kamar-Taj. I don’t know the exact connection between that feeling unfulfilled and unrest, but there’s certainly a correlation in my experience.
“Hm
” You hum out before suggesting, “Can I pour some wine for you, Steph?”
“That’d be great, Sweetheart.” He agrees, giving your butt a little pat, “It’s high time we enjoy our snack. Need good fuel for a conversation like this.”
You smile and sit up carefully. Stephen flicks his wrist at the wine bottle and the cork pops out. You snatch it from the air and shoot him a disapproving stare. He was supposed to refrain from using magic over the weekends as much as possible, but Stephen could hardly ever resist the chance to show off. Besides, he knew deep down you loved seeing his silly little magic tricks. You poured a healthy glass of wine for both of you, passing Stephen his own with a soft smile. 
“Okay
” You beam back at him, clapping your hands together excitedly, “For meats we have prosciutto, capicola, bresaola, soppressata, and mortadella—“
“Mm
 a fan of sausage in all forms, I see.”
You reach back and slap his shoulder lightly, “Don’t be gross, Steph.” You hear him give a light laugh at his perverseness and continue on, “Cheeses are burrata, fontina, gouda, cheddar, and asiago.”
“Wonderful.” Stephen compliments, sitting up and wrapping an arm around your waist, “What else?”
“Baguette and like
 three different types of crackers. There were so many, I didn’t know which to choose.” Stephen gives a little exhale through his nose, his breath fanning along your neck, causing you to have to force back a shiver, “Grapes and then
 that one is fig jam and the other is pepper jelly. Which I’ve never had— the pepper jelly, I mean— but I was curious. And I even got some olives because you like them
 even though they’re nasty.”
“No, they’re delicious.” He argues, taking a sip of his wine, “But that’s neither here nor there. This looks amazing. Almost as amazing as you.” He smiles against your neck and brushes his lips across your bare shoulder
“Such a flatterer, Doctor.” You chide, “Are you trying to get in my pants before you even take a bite of the little meal I prepared?”
“I can’t help it that you made yourself look more tempting than the food.” He teases
“It’s part of the job description.” You murmur, turning to look at him over your shoulder, your breath catching in your throat as his nose brushes against your own
He closed the distance and placed a soft, sweet kiss against your lips. Your eyes fluttered shut as you relaxed back into him carefully, reminding yourself to keep a good hold on your wine glass. You and Stephen exchanged a few soft kisses before he trails to your ear.
He nibbles your earlobe gently and asks, “Where should we start with the food, Baby? And then you can tell me where you think we should start to solve your problem.”
You sit back up and spread a bit of the burrata on a piece of baguette, turning around and holding it up for him. He takes the whole piece in his mouth and gives a pleased hum as he chews through the far too big bite. You giggle and reach up, wiping a crumb off the side of his lips. He swallowed and took a sip of his wine, smiling at you. He looked so sweet. You loved seeing the difference between Stephen when he first arrived to his room and the first few minutes of your time together. You could visibly see his stress melting away. You loved taking care of him as much as he loved taking care of you. And it was odd because you’d never had anyone care for you so completely.
Was that just the arrangement?
“I don’t think I like my major the way I expected to.” You admit softly, “But I don’t know what I want to do if not
” Tears prick in your eyes and you immediately turn back to the food, grabbing a grape and popping it in your mouth, “I just don’t have it figured out like I thought I did.”
Stephen sits up and grabs a couple of olives, crunching on them as he asks, “Did you really think you had it figured out beforehand?”
“I don’t think I had the privilege to stop and consider it beforehand.” You say honestly, “I didn’t
 I couldn’t have changed my major and gone through the extra years, it wasn’t feasible—“
“Do it.” Stephen says immediately, “Or be undecided and take classes to figure it out.”
“Stephen
” You sigh
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.” You huff, “Like I said, I appreciate what you’re doing for me, but I can’t just throw your money to the wind like that.”
“Most girls in your position are asking to buy designer bags worth triple your tuition and shoes and new clothes just for the hell of it—“
“But how long will this really last, Steph?” You sigh, “I’m not
 I can’t change it and then be stuck
” You trail off, dropping your head in your hands, “It’s not the reasonable thing to do.”
He’s silent for a while, making a little sandwich with two crackers, prosciutto, and gouda. He takes a small bite and offers the other half to you and you take it.
After a while he starts carefully, “I have a proposition
”
“Hm?”
“Take a year off. Come live here
 do what we do full time.”
“Stephen—“
“No, just listen, Sweetheart.” He says, placing a hand on your knee, “Take a year off, I’ll keep you, you don’t have to worry about rent or food or anything. You can fill your time doing what you want to do. Figure out what you love and we’ll go from there. Even if
 if you decide you don’t want to do us anymore, I swear you can stay in the Sanctum or I’ll put you up somewhere and give you enough to make rent through the rest of the year and the next semester of college.” He shrugs, “No risk aside from it taking another year to graduate.”
You force yourself to breathe, chewing on the inside of your cheek. Stephen watches you intently, scared that the offer might have been too much. Stephen wasn’t afraid to admit to himself that he cared for you very, very deeply. The first person he’d let himself care for in a long time and he had a sneaking suspicion it was turning into something more. But he wasn’t certain that was something you wanted.
He’d promised himself if he figured out it was something more he would tell you straight away. It would be best for the both of you if you were on the same page, and he knew if emotions were involved it may very well be that you wanted out. You hadn’t signed up for that. You’d signed up for sex and some conversation every now and again.
“Can I take a while and think on it?” You ask timidly
“Of course, Baby Girl.” Stephen agrees, leaning over and placing a kiss against your forehead, “It’s just an option. And if you think of something different, don’t be afraid to suggest it, okay? I’m here to help you, remember? And I have no problem doing so.”
You give him a soft smile and take his hand in yours, “Thank you, Stephen.”
“You’re welcome.” He agrees, “Is there anything I can help you with school-wise in the meantime?”
“Mm
 I have two chapters I need to read this weekend and take notes on.”
“I read out loud, you take notes?”
“I’d appreciate that a lot.”
“Great. We’ll get started as soon as we finish up this snack.” He smiles, “It’s great. Have I said that already?”
You give a light laugh and turn, laying your head against his shoulder, “A few times. But I wouldn’t mind if you said it again.”
“It’s great.” He repeats, placing a kiss on your forehead, “You’re amazing.”
“Mm, not half as amazing as you, but that’s sweet of you to say.”
Stephen’s heart flutters and he takes a sip from his glass to hide the smile threatening to spill over. God, he hoped you took the deal he offered. Coming home to you every day he could would be a dream. Even if it wasn’t exactly real
 it was something. Just a taste of the life he’d come to crave.
Tumblr media
“Baby
” Stephen groans, running his hands over his face and chucking the book to the end of the bed, “that was the worst two chapters of any book I’ve ever read.”
“Well, it’s not like I wrote it.” You grouch back, looking over your notes and adding the last few highlights, “If it’s any consolation it was as bad for me as it was for you.”
Stephen snorts, “Never heard that one before
 much more used to the reverse.”
You laugh and chuck your notebook at him, “Shut up, Old Man.”
Stephen scoffs and throws your notebook to the floor, “Too bad you have a kink for old men.”
“Bad for me, good for you.” You smile, rolling over on top of him
Stephen smiles back up at you, running his hands over your back and down to your ass, “Very good for me.”
“What’re we doing tonight, Doctor?”
“Eager are we?”
“For you? Always.” You say, peppering kisses across his jawline
“Mm
 such a flatterer.” He teases, groping your ass roughly, “What do you want to do?”
“Hmm, I was thinking sex.” You sass
Stephen immediately brings his hand down hard over your ass, “Great minds think alike, huh?”
“Mhm.” You hum in his ear, “Where do we start tonight sir?”
“Why don’t you sit back on your knees and show me your new outfit?”
You roll back off of Stephen and crawl to the foot of the bed. Stephen smiles and sits up, leaning against the headboard, his hands already running over his thighs. You do a little shimmy, the shoulders of the silk robe sliding down your soft skin. You reach up and toy with the tie of the robe, pulling it apart oh so slowly. Always such a tease. You let the tie fall apart but keep the robe held tight together. Stephen gives you a stern look, making you giggle, but also getting you to throw the robe off your frame.
Stephen looked you over slowly, complimenting himself on a job well done. You always looked beautiful to him, always. But there was something about this particular set
 he’d outdone himself this time. He slowly moves his hand to the start of an erection. You sit back on your legs and hike up the panties on your hips, pushing your chest out as if it weren’t prominent enough in the push-up bra. 
“So, what do you think?” You ask, pulling your hair into a ponytail— he preferred to have it up during sex
“I think you’re beautiful. As always.” Stephen says, “Do you like it?”
“I do.” You say, “I think I liked the teddy from last week more
 it was more comfortable. But beauty is pain, isn’t it?”
Stephen flirts, “You must be in constant agony.”
You throw your head back and laugh, raising a brow at him, “Now who’s the flatterer, Steph?”
“We trade-off.” He grabs his length more firmly, massaging it slowly and suggesting, “Why don’t you come help me take off what’s left of my clothes and then I’ll help you take off what’s left of yours?”
You crawl up the bed towards him, running your hands along his legs, trailing kisses across his well-toned thighs. You run one hand over his bulge, watching as Stephen tilts his head back and lets out a soft sigh. You move your lips up to his bulge, licking a long stripe over the fabric. You were practically already drooling. There were few things you could say you wanted more than Doctor Stephen Strange’s dick.
“Hungry little slut tonight, huh?” Stephen asks
You hook your fingers through the waistband of his briefs and look up to him with hooded lids, answering, “Yes, Daddy.”
You pull down the black material and Stephen lifts his hips compliantly. You throw the briefs off the side of the bed carelessly— there wouldn’t be any more clothes tonight— and you were more than happy about it. You wrap your hand around his rapidly hardening cock. You lean down and suckle lightly on his head. Stephen slinks down farther and runs a hand over your back.
“Been thinkin’ about you all week.” You whisper, placing kisses across his shaft, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
“You’ve been thinking about my cock? Did you miss me?”
“I always miss you when I leave, Steph.” You admit, “Thought about it all week. Thought about it for too long during class yesterday and had to walk around with wet panties for hours.”
Stephen gives a silent groan, “Mm, you get lost in your dirty daydreams? What were you thinking about, Baby?”
“I thought about sucking your cock.” You admit, “Thought about trying to take it down my throat. How it makes me gag and cry.” You lick a stripe up his length, “Thought about how you tell me what a good girl I am for you when I take it all the way.”
“What a dirty girl.” Stephen chides, “Gets wet thinking about choking on my cock.” He sighs as you start rolling his balls in your hand, “You gonna’ try taking it all the way tonight? You’ve been doing so good learning to take me.”
“I’m trying.” You say, “I wanna’ make you happy.”
He runs a hand over your head and smiles at you softly, “You always make me happy, Baby Girl.”
You smile at him as you stick out your tongue, tapping his head against it and watching as a string of saliva connects to it, “Thank you.”
“You wanna’ make Daddy really happy?”
“Yes sir.” You agree eagerly
“Can he fuck your throat for a while?” Stephen asks, “And then he’s gonna fuck that pussy. Make those pretty little eyes roll back in your head.”
You lean doesn’t to suck on his balls and give a small moan at the thought alone, “Yes, please.”
Stephen grabs your chin and pulls you up his body, pressing his lips to yours. You give a little whimper, melting into him. Stephen gives a groan and wraps his arms around your back, lightly grinding against your hip. He rolls the two of you over and pulls himself off the bed. He grabs your arm and pulls you over to the edge of the bed.
He explains, “I want you to hang your head off the edge of the bed and I’m gonna’ fuck your face like that. You’re going to keep one hand on my leg or hip the whole time. If you take it off, I’ll stop. If you get a head rush, choke too hard, or just feel uncomfortable, please take your hand away so I know, okay?”
“Yes sir.” You nod
Stephen presses a kiss to your forehead and demands, “Turn and lay back.”
You spin around and carefully hang your head off the edge of the bed, immediately opening your mouth wide. Stephen was incredibly pleased to find that the bed was the perfect height for this position. It briefly had him considering what other ways he could get crafty with furniture of different heights around the sanctum. He was promptly drawn back to your present romp when you grabbed his hip and pulled him forward.
He started slow for both of you. He’d become accustomed to cumming inside you and inside you only. Just the thought made him ten times harder. He still loved oral from you
 you had an insane talent for it, and after the last couple of months, you’d learned how to turn him into an absolute mess with your mouth alone. But he was obsessed with being inside you; He was obsessed with watching you come undone under his touch, watching you take everything he gave, taking his load, moaning how bad you wanted it, how you needed him to fill you up, how you needed him to get you pregnant

Stephen had learned a lot about himself because of you.
He ran a thumb gently over your cheek as you sucked on his tip, threading his fingers through your hair near your neck to help support your head. He thrust forward gently, slotting himself further into your warm, wet, welcoming mouth. You gave a little moan, blinking up at him with large eyes. You ran your tongue along the bottom of his cock, feeling the silky smooth skin and the subtle twitch of his member. Stephen watched your throat carefully, cataloging the moment he saw you take a swallow before pushing himself farther in. 
You took a deep breath through your nose and relax your throat. That was the main trick to going deep throat. Breath control and relaxation. If you panic, so does your body. But you fully trusted Stephen, you knew he wouldn’t do anything to seriously hurt you. He tested your limits, but he was always careful to check that you were okay.
“That’s a good girl.” Stephen coos, thrusting lightly, “That’s my Baby Girl. Takes my cock so well.” He runs his hand over your throat lightly, “You feel okay? Squeeze my hip if you are.” You squeeze his hip and Stephen smiles, “Good girl. You just lay there and let Daddy fuck this pretty throat, yeah?”
You give a nod the best you can and Stephen draws himself out of your mouth just to thrust back in. You reach up with your free hand and palm at your tits, the lace fabric of your lingerie stimulating your nipples. Stephen groaned at the visual, mind in overdrive. He couldn’t believe he’d scored you doing nothing aside from showing up to a Stark party he’d complained about having to attend for weeks beforehand. One silly little note, one night of mind-blowing sex turned into what he hoped would be hundreds.
“Playing with yourself while Daddy watches? You know how much he loves those tits, huh? Maybe I’ll fuck those tonight too. Almost sounds as good as fucking that tight little hole. But you don’t care how I fuck you, do you? My sweet little slut doesn’t care where Daddy’s cock is as long as it’s in or on her.” Stephen degrades, cupping a hand underneath your jaw, watching spit seep from the corners of your mouth with every thrust, tears streaming from the corners of your eyes, “Awe, Baby Girl
 you crying? Does my cock taste that good?”
You take a gasping breath as Stephen pulls out of your mouth, giving a cough and a harsh sniff to avoid snot running down your face to accompany the drool and tears. Stephen gives your cheek a few light slaps and you groan, your pussy clenching around nothing making you press your thighs together. Your back arches off the bed for no reason other than the amount of pent-up tension in your body needing somewhere to go. Once you’ve caught your breath you open your mouth and stick out your tongue again, fluttering your lashes at him. You stopped being quite so impatient after your third night with him, recognizing no matter how long it took he always gave you something in return. Usually, the more patient you were, the better your release felt in the end. Stephen gave a soft groan and slot himself back in your mouth, watching as you suckle on his head, moaning at the taste of his precum on your tongue. 
You pulled away to murmur, “You taste so good, Stephen.” You reach back and stroke him at his base, “Are you going to cum in my mouth?”
Stephen tsks at you, “No Baby Girl, not tonight. Gonna empty myself in that hungry little pussy.”
You pout up at him, “But I wanna’ taste you.”
“Hm
” Stephen muses, “Maybe we c-could
” He stutters as you tilt your head back farther and suckle on his balls, “Shit— I um
 maybe we can afford to waste one load down your throat tonight.”
You smile and tap his head against your tongue, “Yes please, Daddy.”
Stephen strokes your cheek gently, wiping away the faint trails of tears running down your temples and commands, “Open up then and let me keep fucking your face.”
You nod but ask, “Will you tell me when you’re gonna cum? Will you pull out a bit so I can actually taste you?”
“Since you’ve been so sweet and asked so nicely, of course.” He agrees, thrusting forward gently, moaning when you try to swallow around him, “Fuck Baby
 you trying to hurry it along? That desperate to taste my cum?”
“Mhmm
” You hum out, the vibrations making his legs shake
Stephen reaches forward on his next thrust and pulls down the cups of your bra, watching your tits bounce slightly with every movement. He was truly fascinated with your breasts. They were so perfect to him in every way. Then again, he felt the same about the rest of your body. He threw his head back and let out a moan, closing his eyes and focusing on the feeling of you and the feeling of you alone. He could hear you gagging, choking on his length, feel the way your throat contracted around him, the cool air rushing over his shaft every time he pulled out of the warmth of your mouth. So wet, so warm, so perfect

All his.
Stephen’s legs were starting to shake, you could feel his thrusts getting weaker and weaker. You forced your eyes open and tried to see past the tears to find his arms laced behind his back, his head thrown back with lips slightly parted, chest shining with a layer of clean sweat. The visual caused you to moan once more, which you had been fighting against as one, as Stephen had said earlier, it drove him crazy and you wanted him to take as much time enjoying it as possible. And two, any sort of vocalization made it significantly more difficult to take him at the depth he liked.
“Oh fu—ck, Sweetheart.” Stephen moans, “G-gonna’ cum.” He pulls out, stroking himself quickly, watching as you gag and take in a deep breath, tears continuing to stream down your face, “Hold on, Baby. Stick out your tongue and take my load, then you can breathe. Yeah? You still wanna’ swallow for me?”
You nod fervently and stick out your tongue once more. Stephen lines himself up and fists himself faster, groaning as his seed spurts from his head, most of it landing in your mouth and on your tongue, some of it painting your face. You give a little moan and giggle of your own, staring up at him with wide eyes as your curl your tongue back into your mouth, giving a pleased hum. You finally take in your much-needed breath, your body going limp, head hanging off the edge of the bed completely, blood rushing that way. But with the heartbeat currently residing in your clit, you could sacrifice some blood rush in the other direction.
Stephen gently cups the back of your head and helps you sit up. With a wave of his hand a rag appears, which he uses to gently wipe over your messy face. You give little whines, regrettably already feeling overstimulated. Stephen shushes you gently and crawls into the bed, laying down and holding his arms open in invitation. He had gotten good at reading you. There were very fine lines between when you were ready to go again, needed a second, and were totally done for the night. At the moment it seemed to him you only needed a little break after the abuse of your mouth, and he was more than happy to comply despite his still aching cock.
You crawled over and went to lay down. But he held up a hand and magicked a water bottle into existence, popping open the cap and nodding to it expectantly. You gave a little pout but sat up, taking slow, careful sips. When he was satisfied, he took the bottle from you and held his arms open once more. You laid down on him, wrapping your arms around his neck, hearing as he gave a little chuckle. You snuggled into the crook of his neck and inhaled the scent of his shampoo deeply. Stephen ran his hand over your head gently, the other rubbing soothing circles on your back.
“You did so good for me, Baby Girl. Being such a good girl for me tonight. My best girl.” He whispers
Your heart fluttered and you asked shyly, “Your best girl?”
“Yes, Baby, always.” You give a pleased little hum and he chuckles, “Yeah? You like being my best girl?”
“Yes, Daddy.” You agree
“Good.” He smiles into the top of your head, “Are you okay? Was I too rough with you?”
“No, sir.” You shake your head
“You sure?” He questions, “I feel like you’re feeling sleepy already.” You’re quiet for a moment too long and Stephen encourages, “That’s alright if you are, you know?”
You give a little shrug, “S’just like I said earlier. I haven’t been sleeping well. I guess I’m a little tired.” You huff, “But I’m also horny now.”
Stephen laughs and considers for a moment before offering, “Why don’t you let Daddy take care of you? Let him do all the work tonight and then we’ll go straight to sleep.” Stephen shifts hi hips a bit, “I don’t know if you can tell, but he’s still horny too.”
You let out a sweet little giggle, “But I’m supposed to—“
“Do whatever I ask.” He cuts you off, “And I am asking you to let me take care of you. Can I do that?”
You lift your head up and search his eyes, chewing on your bottom lip, “Are you sure
”
“I’m positive, Sweetheart.” Stephen agrees, running his hands over the curve of your waist, “I just wanna’ take care of my Baby. Whatever she needs. You’ve been so good to me.”
“You’re good to me too.” You return softly, reaching up and gently tracing the outline of his goatee
“I try.” He returns, leaning up and placing a gentle kiss on your lips
You return the kiss softly, letting him lead, following wherever he bids you. His tongue licks at the seam of your lips and you part them, letting him in willingly. Stephen wraps his arms around you tight, pressing your chest firmly against his own, his cock jumping against your hip. You give a needy little whimper that drives Stephen crazy. All the noises you made for him, and that soft, sweet, innocent sound is always what made him wild.
He pulls away and instructs, “Roll off me and lay on your back.” He pats the bed beside him, “Wanna’ nurse on that pretty little clit for a while, is that okay?”
As an answer you roll off of him and onto the mattress, spreading your legs wide. Stephen grins and sits up, shifting over between your legs. 
“Wait!” You stop him before he sets to work. You sit up and take a pillow from the side of the bed and lean down, situating it under your hips and explaining, “Now you don’t have to crane your neck as far.”
Stephen’s heart gives an odd little flutter and he compliments, “See, Sweetheart? You always take such good care of me. Just gonna return the favor.” He places a gentle kiss on your inner thigh and your hips give a little wiggle, “Just let me know what feels good. I’m gonna’ be nice and gentle with you, okay? You tell me when you want more.” He leans down, his breath fanning across your folds before checking, “How many times do you wanna cum tonight? I don’t want to overstimulate you.”
You mull it over before saying, “I wanna cum at the same time as you
 when you’re inside me.”
He nods, “Alright. Just lay back and enjoy this for me, Baby Girl.”
Stephen pressed his face into your right thigh, kissing your thigh, his goatee tickling your skin. He ran his hand across the other one, squeezing at the soft flesh. He loved how soft you were. You were sweet, all soft slopes and gentle curves. He would worship the ground you walked on— praise you like the goddess you are. You gave a soft sigh as Stephen’s lips wrapped around one of your lips, suckling softly. Your hips shifted beneath him and he wrapped his arms around your thighs to hold you still. He moved to the other lip and gave it the same attention before pressing kisses to your other thigh. He kept his eyes on your glistening cunt, your arousal shining, your clit swollen and needy.
“You have such a pretty cunt, Baby.” He murmurs, “Could stare at her for hours.”
You give a little giggle as he nips at your thigh and remind him, “I know. You have. It was torture.”
“It was worth it in the end.” He argues, kissing your mound, “Never seen you squirt like that before.”
“Didn’t know I could.” You hum, “It felt nice.”
“Think I’ll figure out how to do it again one day. I wanna learn how to make you do it again.”
“It was the toy. That one that hits my clit and g-spot at the same time.”
“Hm
 noted.” He hums, “Now close your eyes and relax, Baby Girl.”
Stephen waited until he saw you lay your head back before leaning down and took your clit between his lips. He was gentle, carefully suckling on the nub. You got overstimulated by too much suction on your clit, but it also tended to be what would send you over the edge. You gave a soft moan as Stephen’s lips parted and he started lapping at your clit. You loved having Stephen’s head between your legs. His skill with oral had range. Some nights he was ravenous, eating you like a man starved. Tonight, he was taking his time, doing what you loved. He was making out with your clit. It was slow and sensual and wet. His hands trailing over your legs, squeezing at your hips, groping your ass.
His tongue moved constantly, swirling over your clit before trailing downward and diving into your hole. You’d never met a man who craved being between a woman’s legs like Stephen. It was how you started most nights, actually. He would shuffle between the sheets and stick his head between your legs until your hole was dripping with juices.  No one had ever spent their time taking you apart like Stephen did. It was like his personal mission was watching you fall apart. And you always did.
You reached down and thread your fingers through his hair, pulling gently. Stephen gave a soft groan. The vibration makes you shake, little whimpers falling from your lips. Stephen sticks his tongue in you and moves it in and out slowly, stretching you softly.
“Oh, God
 that feels good, Stephen.”
He smiles to himself but doesn’t stop to reply. He was a man on a mission. He wanted to bring you right to the edge before he went inside you. He loved sliding into you and feeling your walls flutter around him. The idea alone had him grinding his hard on into the mattress looking for relief. Stephen ram his hand up your stomach to grab at your breast, toying lightly with you nipple, your hips rolling up into him.
Stephen pulls away to ask, “You feeling okay, Baby Girl?”
“Yes.” You murmur, “Please keep going, please.”
“Will you watch me Baby? Wanna see those pretty eyes roll back in your head while I nurse on your clit.”
Your face flushes, but you nod, lightly scratching at his scalp, “Yes, Daddy.”
Stephen grins and leans back down, his eyes watching yours as he runs his tongue over your clit. Your lips part to form an ‘o’ eyes fluttering closed before snapping back open to look at his. You let out a sharp gasp, turning into a moan as he works one finger slowly into your hole. He suckles gently on your clit, fireworks bursting behind your eyelids as he slides another finger easily into you.
“Holy—“ You gasp out, “Yes, yes, yes
. oh— fuck!” Your head dropped back despite your promise to watch him, but Stephen didn’t reprimand you, too busy trying to keep his perfect pace, too busy trying to make you see stars, “S-s-stephen
 I’m gonna— don’t make me—“ You choke out
He pulled his mouth away, looking down at your pretty little pearl glistening with spit, swollen and throbbing, begging for relief. He slowly pulled his fingers from your hole and watched how it fluttered, placing a little kitten lick over it at groaning at your taste. He sat back on his knees and reach up, holding his fingers out to you. You opened your lips and he slid the long, scarred digits inside, smiling to himself as you suck at them softly.
“Tell me how good that tastes
” He murmurs
“Tastes good.” You reply, pulling away from his fingers, arching your back as he trails the wet digits to your nipple, squeezing gently, “Will you fuck me to sleep, Daddy?” You ask softly
“That’s the plan.” Stephen says, running his hands down to your legs and spreading them nice and wide, “Hold your legs back for me until I get settled. Daddy wants to get nice and deep in this little pussy. Gonna fuck you nice and slow and deep
 how’s that sound?”
You nod eagerly and hook your hands behind your knees, pulling them back to your chest, trying to control the flush on your cheeks at the way his eyes snap back and forth between your cunt and tits presented perfectly between your legs. He runs his hands over your thighs, shifting his hips forward, rubbing his tip between your folds. You shift impatiently and Stephen smiles down at you, tapping his head against your clit a few times. 
You whine, “Steph
 don’t tease me, please.”
 “Okay, okay.” He agrees, “I’m sorry, you just look so pretty squirming.”
You pout up at him, “You’d think I’d look prettier with it actually in me.”
“You are such a needy little baby.” He chides, directing his tip to your entrance and pushing in only a bit before removing it, “So impatient for Daddy’s cock, when you know he’s gonnaïżœïżœ give it to you anyways.”
“Please put it in.” You plead, “Please, please, please
.”
“Fuck.” He groans, taking your face between his hand with a grin, smooshing your cheeks together, “Beg for me again.”
“Please give me your dick, Daddy. Please give it to me slow and deep like you said you would. I want it so bad.”
“Oh, I know.” Stephen pouts back, sliding in slow, watching your mouth fall open, “My Baby Girl likes it when I get nice and deep in this pretty little fuck hole. That’s all she is, isn’t it? Just my pretty little fuck doll, desperate for Daddy’s cock.”
Tears well in your eyes from the stretch. It felt magnificent. Stephen always felt amazing, but nothing beat having him slide in slow, the pleasureful torture of his cock stretching you inch by inch, rubbing against your walls, making your eyes roll back in your head. It felt like heaven. 
“All yours.” You manage to breathe out, stars bursting behind your eyelids, already feeling cock drunk
Stephen kept his hands on the backs of your thighs, watching as he slid into your heat little by little, your walls wrapping him in a warm, welcomed bliss. He gave a deep moan that reverberated around the large bedroom as he settled in you completely. He watched your eyes close, a sigh of relief escaping your lips. He looked back down and watched as he pulled out, your walls gripping his cock like a vice. He brought one hand down, resting it on your mound and fingering over your clit carefully. Your tits bounce gently with each thrust, held in the perfect frame by your legs pushed up to your shoulders. 
“Look at my beautiful girl. Such a good girl for me. You feel so good, you know it?”
You give a lazy sort of smile,  “Thank you, Daddy.”
Stephen leans down and presses his lips to yours. You accept gratefully, opening your lips, begging his tongue to tangle with your own. It does in a slow, sensual pace to match his thrusts into your weeping heat. Stephen’s head spun with every little whimper that fell from your lips. He never felt better than knowing he was making you feel good. It was the most important mission he’d had in years.
He moves his arms, wrapping them beneath your shoulders, holding you close in a hug, his face buried in your shoulder. The soft groan and the muttered, ‘fuck, that’s it Baby,’ he whispers in your ear sends your skin prickling. You wrap your legs around his back, locking your ankles, your heels digging into his ass. The simple action made Stephen feel almost feral. It was such a simple act, such a simple thing, such a small bit of intimacy that triggered something primal in him. 
“God, I just wanna be deeper.” Stephen grunts out, “Wanna make myself at home inside of you, Sweetheart. Can’t get enough of you.”
Stephen was balls deep in you, and the fact he wanted more had your heart thundering. You could feel his balls against your ass, his arms wrapped around your back, his hands gripping your shoulders, his hot breath, and his pleasured moans in your ears. He sounded so fucking pretty, he felt so damn good, it was all so intense and intimate.
“S-stephen
” You whimper, “Oh my God, you feel so good.” You tangle your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck, pulling gently at the soft locks, “Steph, kiss me, please.” You ask
Stephen replied immediately, trailing kisses from your shoulder, up to your neck, along your jaw, and ending on your lips. Kissing you softly, over and over again. He opened his eyes to find you staring up at him, dazed and beautiful looking. Stephen shifted ever so slightly and watched as your mouth popped open, a beautiful little gasp leaving your lips, your eyes rolling back in your head making him smile.
You stutter out the second you catch your breath, “R-right there, D-daddy. Right there, please. It feels— Jesus, that’s it.” 
“Oh? Did I find that good spot, Baby Girl?” Stephen smirks, placing another soft kiss on your parted lips
“Mhm.” You hum out happily, dazed and consumed with euphoria
“You gonna’ cum on my cock? Cream all over Daddy’s dick like the good little girl you are?”
“Yes, Daddy. Please let me cum. Please
” 
“Don’t worry Baby, I got you.” He soothes, “You don’t have to ask tonight, just do what feels right, okay? It’s about you, Sweetheart. Cum for me when you’re ready.” He whispers against your lips, “You know I love watching you hit that high. Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” He brushes your hair behind your ear gently, “My Baby looks so pretty wrapped around me coming undone.”
“You just make me feel so g-good.” You murmur
And it was true. It was different with Stephen. It was like floating on air. You felt so well cared for, even when it was rough, even when it was too much. And right now, it was none of that, and you were in a complete state of euphoria. You’d never done drugs, but you were certain this was better. You couldn’t fathom letting him go, you could only hold him tighter.
“You know what I think feels good?” Stephen smiles to himself, knowing just how to send you over the edge
“Hm?”
“When you let me blow my load straight into this pussy. Think about how deep it’s gonna be this time, Sweetheart. You’re gonna take it all for me, yeah? We don’t wanna waste any, wanna make sure you’re stuffed full.” He grunts, “Gonna stuff you full tonight, and tomorrow, and the next day, and one more time before you leave for class Monday morning.” He smirks, “Imagine how wet you’ll be in class then. My cum dripping out of you, horny little mess daydreaming about my cock stuffed down your throat again.” He gives a soft growl, “My nasty, perfect  little girl.”
“I’m
” You murmur, vision going blurry as the tingling feeling begins creeping up your back, your toes curling, “M’gonna
 please, with me.”
“Yeah? Go ahead. Cum, Baby Girl. Let me see you let go. I’m right there with you.”
Your nails dig into his back, your hips rolling up to meet his own as your orgasm rocks through you. You give a small cry, the noise traveling straight to his cock, his balls getting tight, his release starting as soon as your walls contract from your own release. He let out his own moan, straight into your ear, only making your pussy clench around him harder. His release felt so warm and right inside you.
“Oh, God, that’s so good.” You mutter, pulling at his hair, your emotions overwhelming you quickly “Stephen
” You sob out
Stephen ruts against you softly a few more times. He can feel you clinging harder to him, your arms wrapping around his back, your legs refusing to let go. Not that he minded— not in the least— but he knew what was happening. It had only happened twice before, both of those times after very physically demanding rounds for you. 
The first time had been during one of your early throat training sessions. He would use your mouth for hours on end. You’d been physically okay, it was simply you and Stephen neither one had been prepared for the mental toll it would take on you. And he’d been very understanding, as had you. That was the strange part about your arrangement— typically, from what Stephen had found out— at least one party had previous experience. That wasn’t true in your case. You were both learning as you went. And Stephen had gotten you in some cozy clothes, held you for the next few hours, talked you down with soft-spoken words of affirmation, and fed you well
 he’d taken the most amazing care of you. 
The second time it’d happened, he had you tied down to the bed and overstimulated you past your limit
 you’d had to use your safe word for the first time. You’d been practically incoherent for a few hours after the fact, and Stephen untied you immediately, breaking his rule of no magic on the weekends in his bedroom to get you out of the restraints as quickly as possible. He’d pulled you into his lap and covered the two of you in the comforter, rocking you back and forth softly, murmuring words of praise and reassurance.
‘That’s okay, Baby Girl.’
‘Of course I’m not upset. If you aren’t having a god time, I’m not having a good time.’
‘It’s okay to ask to stop.’
‘You did so good for me, I’m so proud of you for using the safe word.’
‘You’re okay Sweetheart. You’re such a good girl for me, you know?’
He’d looked farther into it and from what he could tell, you were experiencing subspace. Heightened emotions, incoherence, and feelings of euphoria. But that also meant it could turn around and cause the reverse of all of that. And typically, it was the dominant’s job to control the subspace and care for their sub in the aftermath of the fall, but because it was all so new, he hadn’t known at the start. So, in the last few weeks, he’d done plenty of research on the subject to prepare himself for subspace and the possible fall. He was feeling good about it this time.
Tumblr media
Stephen pulls his head away from the crook of your neck to check, “Hey, Baby Girl?” You don’t answer, looking up at him with big eyes. He smiles and runs a hand over the top of your head gently, “Can Daddy pull away? He’s not going anywhere right this second, he just doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” You give a little nod after some consideration and Stephen pulls out of you gently, rolling over on his back and asking, “You wanna come lay with me, or do you need some space for a minute?”
You blink harshly and swallow hard before saying, “I just need a second
”
“That’s okay, Baby.” Stephen agrees, “Can I go get something to clean us up? Get you some comfy clothes to put on?”
“Yes.” You say
“Perfect, thank you.” Stephen smiles softly, “Give me one minute, okay?”
You nod and Stephen rolls carefully off the bed, walking into the bathroom, and grabbing a washcloth. He lets the water run until it’s warm, checking the temperature to make sure it doesn’t get too hot. While he’s waiting, he takes the time to wash himself off and freshen up a bit for you. Just some water over his face, deodorant refresh, no new cologne in case it would overwhelm you. He wets the cloth down and wrings it out, grabbing another dry towel to pat you down. When he walks back into the bedroom he smiles seeing you cuddled up with one of his pillows, little eyes fluttering open and closed.
“Move to the edge of the bed for me, Sweetheart.” You give a little whine of protest and Stephen reasons, “I gotta’ clean you up, Baby. We have to make sure you don’t get an infection. And then I’m gonna’ put you in some comfy clothes, and I can either lay here with you, or I can go sit by the fire and read, or I can go to my office if you need some time alone. Okay?”
You give a little snort, but roll over, spreading your legs for him. He gives a little chuckle and wipes over your face first, your nose scrunching, another whine of protest. He then wiped over your chest and stomach, down and over your vulva carefully, making you squirm, a little squeak leaving your lips.
“I know, I’m sorry.” Stephen soothes patting you dry, “But all done now. Let me get you a tee and
” He pretends to consider for a moment asking, “What about a skirt? You wanna wear a skirt to sleep?” You give a little giggle and shake your head no, “How about
 some jeans?”
“No.” You smile shyly
“No? How about
 my boxers?”
“Hmm
 no thank you.”
He nods, “Sweats?”
“Yes, please.” You agree happily
“Perfect. Be right back.”
Your eyes follow Stephen as he walks over to his dresser, first pulling out a pair of briefs for himself. He then goes to the closet and pulls out a sweatshirt and a pair of sweats. As he walks back over to the bed, you sit up without having to be asked.
“Thank you for sitting up for me, Baby. That’s so good.” He compliments
“Thank you, Daddy.” You smile up at him, holding up your arms as he holds out the sweatshirt
He then pulls on the sweats carefully before walking back over to his drawers and pulling out a sweatshirt for himself. He turns around to find you sitting on the edge of the bed, arms held out to him, grabby hands in full effect. He chuckles and walks back over, your arms immediately wrapping around his waist, your chin resting on his abdomen as you stare up at him with big eyes. He runs a hand over the top of your head, smiling down at you.
“You did so well for me tonight, Baby Girl. I’m so proud of you. Thank you.”
You snuggle your face into his tummy and smile to yourself, “You’re welcome.”
“Now, what do we want to do?” You pause, little hands grabbing at the back of his sweatshirt, “Can I lay down with you? I think it’s time to go to sleep. I want you to get some rest.”
“Will you talk to me while I fall asleep?” You ask
“Of course, Baby.” He agrees, reaching over and pulling back the comforter, “Come get comfy.”
You crawl over and bury yourself under the comforter, smiling up at Stephen as he tucks you in. He crawls into the bed and lies down next to you, letting you shuffle over and curl up next to him like a little cat. Stephen wraps his arms around you and runs his hands over your back slowly. Your eyes immediately start growing heavy, exhaustion catching up with you quick.
“How are you feeling?” He asks
“I’m tired.” You murmur back
“Yeah? How about physically? Is anything hurting?” You shake your head no, “Are we just feeling tired now?”
“Tired and confused.” You admit, “Everything is just so much.”
Stephen nods and kisses the top of your head, “Life does that sometimes, huh?”
“It sucks.” You huff
“I know it.” Stephen says, “But I hope you know, I want to help you through it, okay? Whatever is best for you.”
“That’s
 sweet
” You murmur, “Thank you.”
Stephen smiles softly to himself, “Alright. Go to sleep, Sweetheart. I’ll be right here if you need anything.”
“G’night.” 
“Good night.”
Stephen waited until your breathing evened out, soft, incoherent whispers as you drifted off to sleep. He kept his arms around you holding you close. He wanted to fall asleep with you in his arms so he’d know the first thing when you woke up. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head and closed his own eyes, letting himself drift off.
tag list: @yuu-chan-is-still-a-student12 @fireworksinthesky @cemak @pinkthick @cumbrbatchbenedict @newavenger @evelyn-kingsley @aphroditesdilemma @ironstrange1991 @strangeobsessed @iamsherlocked1479 @vickie-mcmuffin @rmoonstoner @the-royal-petals @vi0letdaze
1K notes · View notes
doobea · 3 months
Text
ALWAYS BE MY MAYBE ─ MEGUMI F.
Tumblr media
synopsis: upon graduating and landing your first job outside of college, you soon realize that being in your twenties suck. outside of working nine hours everyday, setting time for the gym, and making shitty home cooked meals, you have a new stressor joining your team on monday - your ex.
MILESTONE EVENT || MILESTONE MASTERLIST
contents: gn!reader, second chances, office romance, lots of awkward tension, background satosugu, alcohol consumption, company mixers and gossip thrown around word count: 7045 (im sorry) a/n: thank you so much for requesting this @mymegumi !! this is my first time writing for megumi so i hope he isn't too ooc!! :3 this was def one of my fav ones i've received hehe also shout out to @popponn for beta reading this like a champ because wow this was a MESS and shes helped w a lot ;;
Tumblr media
Walking into the office on a Monday morning and seeing your ex first thing is something you wouldn’t wish on your enemy. 
To make matters even slightly worse, the team manager announces that he’s going to be the new software engineer on your team and that his assigned seat is, surprise surprise, next to yours. 
So this is how things are going now. 
Things have changed drastically between you and Megumi, having today being your one-year break up anniversary, and you’re still finding your ground here. And, it goes both ways, you suppose. The initial shock on your face was hard to hide and you could’ve sworn Megumi felt like putting in his two week notice the moment you walked through those doors. But you don’t blame him when he excuses himself to the nearest bathroom and you don’t blame him when he spends a suspicious amount of time in there.
“Does the new guy have IBS or something?” Your manager, Satoru Gojo, plops himself down at the corner of your desk, completely ignoring the fact that his ass is resting on the pile of documents that you’re planning to review. He’s wearing his usual black circular lenses inside despite it being not sunny on this cold, gloomy December morning. Gojo thinks he looks cool with them on, definitely not trying to gain a certain regional manager’s attention. He’s also disregarding the fact that you’re squirming uncomfortably in your seat. 
You cough loudly into your fist and manage to shimmy a packet from Gojo’s ass pile, trying to drown yourself in work and not engage in the conversation, knowing full well that Gojo can’t keep his mouth shut if he finds out about your relationship history.
“Maybe it’s just first day nerves,” you shrug back.
“I’m not paying him to take a shit at work,” Gojo huffs back, hands on hips like a mother hen. “There’s some Pepto Bismol in the first aid kit in the break room, go hand him that.”
You sigh, clicking the pen repeatedly in your hands in hopes that your manager gets the hint that you’re busy, but he just repeats it, emphasizing that ‘hey, no need to create a toxic work environment’ and that ‘everyone here is family’. 
“You can’t grab Nobara to do it?” You grumble out.
“I’m talking to you right now, aren’t I?” he replies back before hopping off your desk. Gojo adjusts his tie and smooths out his hair before sending finger guns in your direction. “Make Megumi feel at home and I’ll give everyone an extra five thousand on top of the initial holiday bonus, yeah?”
If there’s anything that Satoru Gojo is good at, outside of drunk whining about his ex, it’s bribing. You’ve been working at this company for just under a year and the amount of times he would throw money out in order to get others to do his responsibilities might be more than you can count but, in hindsight, it’s not a bad trait to have. He’s a good listener, attentive of other’s needs, and not a micromanager. And, while you desperately want to say no, you have to admit that having an extra five thousand bonus does sound incredibly nice.
“Fine,” you give in and push yourself out of the seat. “But that’s all that I’m doing for the rest of the week. I’ve got other things I have to catch up on before the end of the year.”
It’s not a lie. You’ve got meetings with clients scheduled back to back until the last week before Christmas and most of them are being indecisive about their app designs. Though, that’s the normal life of being a graphic web designer on a regular day.
“Yeah?” Gojo briefly glances over your calendar that you have pinned against the wooden cork board in your cubicle and hums in deep thought — which is usually not a good sign. “Y’know what? Megumi should join in on the meetings too.”
“H-Huh?”
“Why are you giving me that look? You give him the designs, he makes it look pretty, and then we have profit.”
“Yeah but,” you gesture your hands towards Toge’s desk behind you, who’s currently hunched over and deep into whatever line of code he’s attempting to fix for a particular picky client. “I’m already partnered up with Toge, I don’t think Megumi needs—”
Gojo enunciates your name, loud and slow, tilting his glasses down so you can see the intense blue of his eyes. “Can’t you see I’m trying to hook you up, right now?”
Oh god, so this is why he’s being so persistent.
You heave out another sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration and embarrassment. “Gojo, are you self projecting right now?” You swear he always does this.
“Am not!” Gojo quickly shoots back with crossed arms. “You look like you haven’t gotten laid in a while and I’d figure I play office cupid with you and the new guy!” Then, a small pause followed by a loud Teams’ message notification comes from his phone. You don’t need to guess who sent it judging by Gojo’s exasperated gasp. “Inumaki, please focus on your tasks instead of listening in on people’s conversations!”
Ping!
DESIGN TEAM - SUB GC [Toge Inumaki]: gojo needs to get laid lolol [Maki Zen’in]: say it louder for the ppl in the back
Gojo manages out another grumpy sound, more a whine than anything else; your grin widens and pat him on the shoulder.
“Pepto Bismol, right?” You snort.
“He’s still going to join—” Gojo starts to respond, but then gets cut off by another notification, and gives up. “Ack—whatever! Just make sure you look after him today, alright? Me and Suguru are going to plan for the holiday party for the rest of the day, so no interruptions!” He announces the last part louder than the rest, staring down at everyone else on the office floor. Gojo is met with a couple of weak ‘yeah, sure, have fun, bud’ before turning his attention back to you. He says the next part in a hush whisper, “Gonna increase it to ten thousand, you spend too much time at work anyway.”
You roll your eyes, nodding away just to agree and end the dreaded topic. “Aye, aye, captain.”
Then, Gojo has the audacity to drink some of your morning tea and sighs, content and relaxed as he’ll ever be, before strutting to the otherside of the floor and into Geto’s office. You and the others are pretty sure they have a secret room connected in there. No one’s ever been able to go inside Geto’s office without a special lock pad code. Something about protecting the company’s patented secrets or whatever. Doesn’t help the allegations that only Gojo has access to said special code.
Ping!
You look at your computer and see that Toge had sent you a private message. 
[Toge Inumaki]: u actually gonna flirt w the new guy?
You glare at Toge, who’s now flashing you a knowing smirk underneath the turtleneck that extends over his mouth. You know he’s celebrating inwardly because, yeah, you see that little glimmer in Toge’s eyes that indicates that he does know your dirty little office secret. How do you know this for a fact? Toge always looks up everyone’s personal and employment history.
It’s always the quiet ones who are freaks.
“No way,” you reply, probably with even more indignation than Gojo, if that’s even possible. “Also, keep the info on the down low and I’ll share some of my bonus with you, please?” If you’re going to survive this job, you might as well steal some of your manager’s tactics.
Without any opposition, Toge sends you a thumbs up.
This is going to be an interesting year.
Tumblr media
“You’re making it so not obvious,” Maki starts, sarcastically, as she refills her liter sized tumbler by the company’s only fancy coffee machine. It’s also the only functional one on the floor and Geto claims that it’s worth more than your entire yearly salary. What an absurd purchase but everyone abuses the shit out of it, so you guess it’s worth the price. 
You stick out your tongue in disgust as you watch her put five shots of espresso into the container and wonder how the hell is her body still functioning correctly. “You could’ve at least told me that he applied for the job, y’know?”
“And what? How was I supposed to know he was going to be on our team? Were you going to look for a new job just because he got it?” Maki shoots you an unimpressed look and totally catches the way you chew your lips as your fingers twitch at your sides. “Listen, as your friend and his cousin, I’m not really sure all the details that went down but I know that Megumi isn’t out to hurt you — you should know that too.”
“I do know that,” you angrily place down your mug underneath the machine, firmly pressing the cappuccino option on the touch screen. “We just
 didn’t really talk after he had to move, like at all.” You frown.
Maki leans against the break room counter and sips her beverage. “Mind running it back to me again?” 
“It’s long, Maki,” you try to deflect, “Trauma dumping first thing in the morning is rather—”
Ping!
[Satoru Gojo]: did ya hand him the anti poop meds yet? 
“Wait, give me a second, gotta reply to
”
Maki laughs. “All good, take your time.”
[You]: not yet, getting coffee [Satoru Gojo]: losing employee of the month status as we speak  [You]: u being deadass rn [Satoru Gojo]: you wished your ass was getting aidhwkakha 
The sudden keyboard smash and offline status change is enough to lose your interest in the conversation. A chill runs down your spine at the immediate imagination of your supervisors getting it on with each other. As a small distraction, your eyes begin shifting focus around the break room before settling on the small first aid kit in the corner. And now you’re reminded again of the side mission that somehow became a main mission in your twenties’ story line. 
Handing your ex bowel medicine was not part of your bingo card. 
“I’ll talk to you later, Maki,” you release a groan when she laughs again. It’s light hearted, you know that for sure, but it still feels humiliating. 
You round the corner down the hallway leading to the restroom with the neon pink bottle in hand, mumbling to yourself ways to avoid talking to Megumi, before crashing dead on into something, or rather someone, hard. 
“Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry—”
“No, it’s my bad, I—”
You regret ever opening your mouth. A heartbeat pause passes before you could gather your thoughts, coherently. You’re pretty sure you have this dumb, gawking, expression plastered over your face because Megumi is doing all that he can to avoid having proper eye contact with you. 
Instead of half expecting him to brush past you, he points at the neon bottle and asks, slowly, with all seriousness, “Is that for you?”
“F-For me?” You look down at the bottle and look up again, feeling warmth in your cheeks from embarrassment and
 anger? You hastily shove the bottle into his hands, strongly ignoring the fact that he smells really good for someone who just spent the last half hour in a bathroom. “It’s for you, idiot!” 
For a split second, Megumi looks wildly offended that you would even consider that he needs something like this. You watch as he’s about to give it back to you or, knowing him, throw it away, when suddenly a tuft of pink pokes out from the corner of your eyes.
Yuuji had somehow acquired a ridiculous bright strand of Christmas lights that he’s looped around his neck. He’s got a Santa hat on, also holding an extra pair too, and you want to question where he managed to get the overly festive attire from, and if there’s some sort of weird in-office holiday event that you weren’t invited to. 
“Hey, hey! I was told to bring this over to the new guy!” Yuuji chirps brightly and stops in his tracks when he sees Megumi in front of you. “You must be him!”
“Megumi,” you wince at saying his name finally, pushing aside your previous strained thoughts due to the new company, and run a feverish hand through your hair. “This is Yuuji, he works in our sales department. Yuuji, this is Megumi, he’s part of the design team.” You reply in a sickly-sweet tone. 
“ ‘Sup! How are you?” Yuuji pops the ‘p’ and whistles.
“I’m charmed,” Megumi sighs and stares him down for a moment, before he finally grips the festive hat when Yuuji presents it to him. “Do I have to?”
“Of course!” Yuuji flicks on the switch to his necklace and it nearly blinds your eyes from how bright it was. The festive colors alternate, and there’s a small jingle that plays right after. Talk about a seizure warning. “It’s part of the company’s tradition!”
Megumi breathes through his nose, rolling his eyes. “The company was founded this year.”
“Yeah, starting today, it’s a company tradition,” Yuuji corrects. 
“Starting today, I’ll write up my notice,” he grumbles, only audible to you. 
You have to admit, you appreciate the dry sarcasm. There’s no denying that Megumi looks like he’s a second away from quitting all within the first two hours of his first day. But, as you noted earlier, you don’t blame him. 
“You guys are coming to the end of the year party, right?” Yuuji snaps a quick selfie with the three of you in it, explaining something about posting on the company’s Instagram story reels and gaining clout. Though, you’re pretty sure that only Yuuji was smiling in the photo.
“I was actually planning on staying home,” you answer sheepishly, not wanting to give away the obvious reason.
Yuuji frowns and immediately pulls out his signature puppy dog eyes. “Aww, wait really? You seemed so excited for it earlier last week.”
You’re shaking your head. “No, I wasn’t—”
“Yuh huh,” Yuuji fishes out his phone to pull up the fucking group chat receipts, showing it to both you and a perplexed Megumi. “You said you went out and bought an ugly Christmas sweater the next day!”
“It was a joke!”
Yuuji pulls up a photo of you in said ugly Christmas sweater. You die a little on the inside.
“You’re wearing it right here, though!”
“Yuu—” 
“A joke, huh,” Megumi kicks the bottom of his loafers against the floor, shoving the red hat deep into his pants’ pocket, before excusing himself, again. He holds up the pink bottle and turns around, back towards the restrooms. “Turns out I’ll be needing this, thanks.” There’s a hint of malice oozing from the last word, one that you pick up quite easily while Yuuji looks around confused. 
“So Gojo wasn’t overreacting about the IBS thing
” Yuuji muses.
Tumblr media
It’s now midday and a total of less than thirty words have been exchanged so far between you and Megumi. You two have been working in silence for the past hour at the cubicles and you’re beginning to feel awfully guilty about the earlier exchange. 
It wasn’t your intention to make him feel unwelcomed. Maybe you’re thinking too deeply into this than needed?
“Are you feeling okay?” You arch a brow, pulling your eyes away from your monitor for a moment to look at Megumi. Megumi stops typing and makes a small appreciative sound, nodding quickly enough. You know better though, whenever he has a far off look on his face, that his mind’s a mess. 
“Yeah,” Megumi tries to sound casual as he goes back to coding. “This is probably not easy for you either, right?” He lets an ear bud dangle from his side.
“That noticeable?” You let out a short laugh, knowing that you both know each other still pretty fucking well. “It’s just
 been a year, you know? Haven’t seen much of you since you moved.” You’re waiting for him to take the bait as you have your suspicions, and you don’t voice them, but you swear, just for a moment, there’s a strange expression on Megumi’s face. Then, you blink, and maybe you’ve imagined it all, because his face goes back to looking as stoic as he always did.
“I’m,” he pauses his fingers, sinking back into his seat, eyes downcasted. “I’m sorry. I know I should’ve called you, at least.”
“I was worried sick like crazy,” you suddenly admit, the words seemingly flowing out at this point. “Was almost debating calling the missing person’s hotline until the mailman, of all people, told me that your family packed up and dipped.”
Megumi isn’t the most expressive person when it comes to apologies, having an already wildly unconventional childhood was enough to shell himself out from everyone else. Though, it’s hard to deny that he should’ve and could’ve done something earlier. 
Megumi chews methodically down on his lips. “Yeah, I’m sorry.”
You nod slowly, making note of the way his voice strained, and face back to your monitors. “It’s fine, I probably shouldn’t have brought it up at work,” a pause and then you continue, “Also, I’m sorry about acting like you’re the plague, too. It’s just—people don’t normally work with their ex’s, you know?” You whisper.
He sighs, there’s a finality to it, and puts back his ear bud. “Mhm, I don’t want to think about it.”
Yeah. It’s stupid. It’s stupid and somehow it really sucks, too. You’re absentmindedly nodding and maybe, you think, there’s a quick flicker of that same unnamed emotion you keep noticing from Megumi, one that somehow forces your stomach to twist up, making your insides all confused. 
“Okay, that’s fair enough,” you say, and you forget about it, at least for now.
Tumblr media
After a few days, working with Megumi is like clockwork. 
Greetings are short and brief or none at all. If he needed something, he would contact Toge or Maki since they’re the ones supposed to be in charge of him. If he ever needed to grab something from you
 well it’ll just be exchanged via email or the work group chat — nothing ever in person. Which you’re happy that you’re both on the same page. Also, thank god for Zoom Meetings having a recording option. There was no way in actual hell you were going to sit through a two hour long call with your ex sitting across from you.
It’s halfway through the work week and nearing the end of the day. You’ve successfully got off the call with a client and just sent over the finalized web design to the rest of the team. 
Yuki Tsukumo, a self-made billionaire, reached out to the company three months back regarding a new app launch she had in mind. Ironically for you, it’s a dating app specifically designed for second chances and heartbreaks. Did you mentally suffer a couple of breakdowns from this? Of course.
Are you going to suffer another one because Gojo is currently ordering a last minute meeting with you and Megumi in a conference room? Yeah.
“What the fuck,” you say, intelligently. “Are you—are you crying?”
“W-What makes you think that,” Gojo sneezes into an already damp tissue. He’s got a stupid Christmas-themed sweater on, even got a themed set of earrings in, too. A little necklace with red and white candy cane beads hangs from his neck, and he’s got a dumb temporary reindeer tattoo on his cheek. Gojo is so themed that it’s almost disgusting. “Why would I—why would I—” and he bursts into tears.
You outwardly groan and Megumi stays quiet but makes his annoyance evident with a deep furrow of his brows. You do not like where this is going. Gojo breaking down combined with Geto suddenly taking off only means that—
“You want us to take over the planning.” Megumi concludes in a flat tone.
“F-For the party—yes,” Gojo hiccups and, fuck, is he also drunk on the job right now?
“Did you and Geto have a fight again?” You deadpan. 
“No.” Gojo frowns, going cross eyed. It’s not adorable at all, completely different from how he usually depicts himself to the rest of the office, which is why both you and Megumi stealthily slip out your phones and snap a quick picture
 for blackmail purposes. “I-I was just
”
“We’ll do it,” you actually didn’t want to know the details, but you are slightly amused by how things turned out the way they did. “So, why are you drunk?”
Gojo opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again. “ ‘m not drunk enough to tell you the whole story,” he gravely replies.
Megumi scoffs as he graciously gets out of his seat. “Well, if that’s all then I’m going back to my desk.”
And, of course, in the end it comes down to Megumi fucking Fushiguro being your co-assistant to organizing the biggest end of the year dinner celebration. A ten thousand bonus is on the line and you could really use a long vacation afterwards. 
Gojo sends you to a file containing the event plans that they’ve completed so far and what’s missing. Food has already been covered, Gojo has a fancy restaurant catering information listed down, one he raves constantly about their tiramisu. Below that Geto makes a brief comment about needing an after party reservation at any local bar. Holiday decor still needs to be ordered and a DJ still needs to be booked. Not to mention setting up the office, organizing activities, creating and sending out emails to every—
“I’ll handle coordinating with the vendors, you can focus on the internal tasks.”
You blink. “What?”
He blinks in return. “What do you mean ‘what’?”
And, when you don’t say anything back, he continues.
“I’ll stay out of your way,” Megumi has his back turned to you. He’s unable to catch your slight frown. Those words should be a good sign. The less contact, the better. But hearing it makes your stomach clench uncomfortably, and you find yourself casting around for something to say back. 
You try to open your mouth to speak, but it’s a bunch of gibberish, nonsense syllables, the only recognizable word being a bleary, “together”. 
“Together?”
“We can work on it together,” you rephrased it more clearly.
Megumi tenses his shoulders and whips his head around, holding a slight sneer, though you aren’t sure if it’s meant for you or just towards the odd situation. “We are, that’s why I’m splitting the responsibilities up.”
“No, I mean like—”
“You don’t have to force anything.” Megumi says, running fingers through his unkempt hair. “I don’t want to make things more awkward than they already are.”
Of course, that sets you off a bit uneasily. You look around in the office and, once you realize that it’s just the two of you, you pull Megumi by his sleeves and find the nearest empty conference room. 
“You look upset,” you huff, completely ignoring the way he’s pouting. 
“I’m not upset,” Megumi shoots back, but his words are far too quick, a little bit heated, and he flushes instantly. He knows that he’s not fooling anyone, especially you.
You sigh, leaning your back against the wall next to the door. “Maybe not to others,” you begin, “I don’t want to sound like an ass but
” and you instinctively cringe when you think back to Gojo’s words from the beginning, “We have to work together for this project, at least.”
“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable,” Megumi confesses, and you see the weight coming off of his shoulders as he says it. It sounded like he wasn’t planning on bringing this up at all, but the words are soon tumbling out. “Just
 trying to get out of your way, you know? I still kinda need time to process everything.”
“Ah,” you’re looking down at your shoes, suddenly feeling
 shy? Confused? You're watching him out of the corner of your eye. 
Megumi breathes out a long sigh, fixes the wrinkles in his sleeves, and leans forward, brushing shoulders with you as he reaches for the handle. “I’ll cooperate,” he forces out.
“Megumi,” you say quietly, and you’re watching his knuckles turn white as he grips the knob just a bit too tightly. “Let’s just start over, okay?”
He frowns, and he masks it after a moment, you know how to get him stirring in his emotions, because the thought appears to give him a pause. Megumi’s eyes widen a bit, and he’s back to chewing his lip, a bad habit he’s always had, before smoothing out again.
“That’s complicated, you know that,” Megumi says finally. 
You have no right to judge his answer, considering that you also played along in this weird tip-toe dance that you’ve both set. But is it really that complicated? Sure, you’re still pissed about what transpired during the relationship and ‘break up’, if you even want to call it that, but how long are you going to pretend that he’s not an important figure in your life?
“Life is complicated,” you stare into his eyes. “So work with me here, Megumi.”
Tumblr media
You begin to feel better when you check off the final bullet point on Gojo’s ridiculously long event planner. Miraculously, the two of you manage to have everything prepared before the end of the month, even if it means working slight overtime together. Not that either of you had minded, it seemed after that conversation, there’s been less tension. You’re both trying to move on from the past and that’s the part of growing up, like it or not, and things don’t really fall neatly in place anymore. 
So, when you get to the restaurant, you realize something real fast.
The seating arrangements are absolutely staged. 
It’s a small izakaya, so the price to rent the whole place out wasn’t as expensive as some of the places Gojo had listed down as recs in the previous email but, because of its limited space, you knew it was going to be a tight squeeze for all twenty of you guys.
For starters, it was apparent from the moment you sat down that no one wanted to sit next to you. You were wondering if it had to do anything with your body odor before noting two very important things — one, Megumi was going to be the last one to arrive because he’s picking up the cake and two, everyone was staring intently when he entered the restaurant and had no choice but to sit next to you. You were trying so hard not to get distracted but the scent of his familiar cologne and the proximity of his body heat traveled to the forefront of your mind.
Three shots of tequila followed by five lemon drops later and both of your supervisors have disappeared from the dinner table. You vaguely make out a trail of unraveled ties and belts down the restaurant’s bathroom hallway in the corner, no surprise guessing what your bosses are doing — hint, it’s probably with each other. Aside from that, you’re currently trying not to let yourself get distracted by the obvious questions that your other coworkers are currently throwing to you and Megumi.
“We heard from a little birdie that you two are ex’s?” Todo throws the fucking rock out there. 
Everyone is either currently drunk or getting to the point of being tipsy. One look at Toge and he has the word ‘culprit’ written all over his smug, redden face. You’d imagine that he told everyone at the table about it when you and Megumi excused yourselves to the restroom separately earlier in the night. Mai is giggling up a storm and Yuuji looks like he’s one sip away from making weird hand puppets of you two kissing. Maybe it’s hypocritical on your part, but you don’t get why they’re making such a big deal out of it. It’s not like you and Megumi are actually making the work environment uncomfortable and it’s also not like you guys are getting back together by seeing each other every day
 right?
But you have to wonder, vaguely, when your body’s going to stop doing that weird, fluttering thing it does every time Megumi does look at you. You almost spill your drink everywhere when you catch his eyes again and mutter a string of curses under your breath, forcing your attention back to actually doing some damage control before it gets out of hand. 
The only way to stop them from spreading unnecessary rumors is to own up to it. The more you deny, the more relentless teasing you’ll receive. Both you and Megumi drain a shot of tequila for the sake of courage before answering Todo’s unwarranted question.
“Yes.”
“No.”
You stare at each other in disbelief before switching your answers in a panic. 
“No!”
“Yes!”
Yuuji starts nervously laughing and scratches his cheek. “Uh, guys
”
“We’re not—”
“We broke up—”
“You gonna take him out on a date?” Todo digs into his food, eyes never leaving the two of you. For some reason, you think he’s enjoying this a bit too much.
Megumi seems to pick up on this and groans. “I’m going outside for a bit,” he removes himself from his seat and pointedly avoids all the disappointed drunk mumblings from his coworkers as he makes a beeline towards the entrance with his coat in hand.
Okay, yeah, he’s smart for not falling for that. You, on the other hand, start pawing at your lap. 
“We’re not dating,” you correct Todo, and basically everyone at the table.
“What if
 he thinks you’re dating and you don’t?” Yuuji slurs his words, half of his body is basically leaning against the tabletop.
You highly doubt anything you’ve done together would be considered date worthy. You’re pretty sure Megumi feels the same way and everything is exaggerated at this point. Suddenly, you feel really out of your element here, and this burst of anxiety, one that leaves you squirming in your seat, has you itching for fresh air.
“I’ll be right back,” you quickly excuse yourself, grabbing your belongings along.
It didn’t take you long to find him. Megumi is standing off to the side underneath the building’s overhang, eyes glued to the road, silently watching the first snowfall of the month before taking notice of your presence. He flashes you a soft nod and scoots a little to the left, inviting you into his space, which you end up taking.
“When are you planning to leave?” Megumi asks. His face is flushed at this point, the first couple of buttons of his collared shirt are open, and his sleeves are rolled up. He’s got his jacket tossed across his shoulder and, you soon realize, that your ex looks stupidly mesmerizing under the shitty neon lights outside the restaurant. 
The answer had been “in about ten minutes” but somewhere between your brain and mouth, the words had taken a detour to Megumi’s long lashes, because instead you say, “Whenever you leave, I guess.”
It’s not like you actually have plans after this anyway. Your apartment might need a deep holiday cleaning after wasting the last couple of weeks working overtime, and you might need to pay the grocery store a little visit to actually start cooking yourself a healthy meal, but that can all wait. 
Megumi makes a strange straggled noise at your response and hides his surprise through a long sigh, “So
” 
You cock a brow. “So?” You echo back.
Another sigh from Megumi and he finally floods out his words. “The next train arrives in fifteen, we can both make it if you’re fine with leaving now.”
It’s a rare invitation and, despite the initial tension, there’s no way in hell that both of you are letting this opportunity go. 
You say yes in an instant, fixing your winter coat around your body and doing a quick three-second check to see if you have everything only to notice that your phone is missing.
“Oh, um—”
“I’ve got it right here,” Megumi fishes out your phone from his pocket and hands it over. “Figured that you would’ve accidentally left it behind.”
For a moment, you wonder if you’re on one of those hidden camera shows. But the look that Megumi gives you, the look that you’re all too familiar with a year ago, it’s there written all over his face. You realize that you are, fortunately, not on a reality show — the alcohol and snow might be paid actors — and your ex, tipsy and but wildly attentive towards you, is completely still infatuated.
You take it without questioning. When you check the phone battery, it doesn’t surprise you to see it almost fully charged too. He’s always been the worry wart, even if he doesn’t show it half the time. 
“Gojo recommended this new book series to me,” Megumi says with a small grin, changing the topic. You’re grateful for that, slightly. Even though you can’t quite meet his eyes, your gaze lingers on the way his hand is idly tugging at a loose thread on his shirt, or the way that he’s subtly kicking at the growing pile of snow in the corner, like he can’t stay still. It’s endearing, and you’re left wondering what’s actually going through his mind outside of all things surface level.
You find yourself mimicking his smile, already knowing what might come next. “Bet it’s either a series about friendship and adventure or the nastiest smut he could find in the romance section.” You reply, rolling your eyes. 
Megumi lets out a choked laugh, and almost drops his coat. You hide a giggle of your own. “Not anything like that, but I wouldn’t be surprised.” Megumi momentarily eyes you, but then reaches for his phone, pulling it out and thumbs the title ‘Sorcery Fight’ into the search bar. Tons of images pop up, many featuring fanart of who you assumed to be the main character — white hair, wears a blindfold, oddly charismatic in its character description — wait, this all sounds oddly fishy. 
“Another self projection?” You realize, instantly. 
“Maybe,” Megumi agrees before shifting his weight around, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Did you want to check it out tomorrow
?” He briefly makes eye contact and diverts his attention back to his phone. “If you’re free, that is.” He quickly adds.
You pretend to be in deep thought for a moment, leaving Megumi wondering if he said something he shouldn’t have, because the look on his face screams ‘oh god, have I gone too far’ under all of his aloof persona. 
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“Yeah, maybe I’ll be free.”
Almost uncharacteristically, Megumi lets out a, “Fuck you,” and that seems like the wittiest response in the world, in that moment. 
It descends you into a full on giggling fit, and Megumi can’t help it, your laughter is contagious, and now you’re both giggling, on the verge of leaning against each other helplessly as the winter air is howling rough and bitter around. It’s a damn good thing that the alcohol is still running through your veins, giving you both that hot feeling of dumb immortality. 
“Let’s go catch that train,” he looks forward but extends a hand towards you, when you firmly clasp around his fingers, the slightest shade of red coats his cheeks and you’re positive it wasn’t from the weather. 
Tumblr media
Of course, Megumi ends up at your apartment after you decided at the last minute to pick up crappy, greasy takeout food on the way back at nearly one in the morning. The buzz from the drinks have worn off, but you find yourself slowly gaining confidence scooting besides Megumi as both of you take a seat on the carpeted floor in front of your incredibly dusty coffee table. It’s covered in finger smudges and scratches from all the other previous nights of takeout meals and accidental bumps. You pray that Megumi doesn’t point them out, but a part of you is glad when he wordlessly starts cleaning some of the spots away. 
Kinda feels like the old times, you think.
“You ever think that we’re the ones who can’t see what’s going on?” You ask during an opening scene to a British comedian podcast show. It’s a news channel that Megumi likes to watch sometimes, despite not believing half of whatever that’s being reported. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could’ve sworn Megumi’s cheeks are flushing, but it’s hard to tell in the dark.
It’s the takeout food talking. The fries and milkshake combo is making your stomach do weird little flips—or maybe it was from Megumi being close? 
You tip your head back, looking out your window, because the thought of looking at Megumi is
 hard right now. It makes your heart tight, your throat dry. You’re wondering if he’s even going to show up at your door the next morning, or if you’ll see him the next work day and he’ll make a passing comment about how dumb everything was. Hell, would you even remember this tomorrow with how late it’s getting?
“I’m pretty sure we’re the ones who know what’s up,” Megumi replies, but the words sound hollow, coming from his lips.
“Maybe,” you say, quickly, and the laughter you force out carries the same empty sound that his voice did. “Next time, we should probably have a drink limit to keep them from chatting their asses off.”
“Or never letting them drink again,” Megumi agrees, somewhat, before stealing a piece of fry from your plate.
You hum before testing the waters and letting half of your body go slack against his shoulders. Everything is experimental at this point, so you’re glad when he doesn’t push you away, instead, Megumi leans into your touch, just a little.  
“How’s your family? Are they well?” He asks over a news segment. It’s about a modern urban legend, sort of like Bigfoot, but it’s just a guy cohabiting with a giant crocodile. This makes Megumi laugh. 
“They are! Parents finally retired so now it’s just me working while they’re relaxing at home.” You let the story wrap up before firing back the same question. “And you?”
“Dad’s still working overseas,” Megumi says with a slight frown. 
He’s never really talked about his father, even when you two were together, all you know is that it’s been a complicated relationship since his mother passed away when he was young. His father tried his best raising him all on his own while balancing work, though half of the time Megumi rarely saw him growing up. There’s a bit of resentment, you think, it’s understandable but you can also tell Megumi still holds him high to a certain degree. 
“You guys have been talking more though, right?” You vaguely recall a faded memory. 
To this, Megumi smiles fondly. “Yeah, we have. Once a month, if he’s not terribly caught up with whatever he’s doing.” 
Turns out neither of you have figured out his father’s occupation, which might be for the better. Megumi thinks it’s gang related, and doesn't give it too much thought as long as his father is safe. You, on the other hand, have thought of it being related to overseas construction work, something less
 imaginative and dangerous.
“I’m glad to hear that, and also glad you’re doing well for yourself.” 
“Yeah,” and Megumi shifts a bit to get a better look at you. There’s fondness in his eyes that steels you to sit up a bit straighter. “I could say the same thing for you.”
“Well, my apartment could use a bit more loving,” you laugh, “It’s a bit hard to manage everything sometimes.”
“Maybe I can help?” Megumi says this with a straight face and you’re wondering if somehow the apple juice with his takeout order is somehow spiked with hard cider. 
When somehow you didn’t pick up a hint of alcohol from his breath, from how close you’re sitting against him, you choke on your saliva. “You’re serious about that, Megumi?”
“What? Don’t believe me?”
“No,” you say the words instantly, far too quickly, and feel the immediate warmth spreading to your cheeks, even if you’re trying to look cool and collected. 
“Well,” Megumi tips his head to the side, eyes narrowed. “It’s getting late,” he points out.
You glance at your wall clock and, sure enough, it’s three in the morning. You weren’t tired before but, somehow with him pointing it out, your eyes start to grow heavy. You’re grateful for the distraction and you think you just want Megumi to go away, but you know the second he does, you’re going to be obsessing over this conversation. Over the implications, the unsaid words between the fine lines, and well
 just about everything that’s been there and been overcomplicated. And maybe Megumi is taking pity on you because he shifts his gaze to your face before settling a firm grip on both of your shoulders.
“Let’s get you to bed.” Megumi scoots a little closer, and you have a moment of panic. Then, you realize that he’s silently asking for permission to lift you up. “Are you planning to sleep out here?” 
“Are you leaving right after?” You catch yourself staring at him, a bit too longing, and jerk your head down but he catches your chin, before you can fully pull yourself away. 
“No, I’m staying,” he breathes out, his voice a low rumble in your ears. “Is that fine?”
You weren’t expecting that particular answer. You slowly lift your head away, gently freeing yourself from his touch, but staying close enough to nudge your shoulder up against his. Megumi is trying—he’s trying really hard to be open and you feel like your nerves are raging in your body again, although this time, it’s not an entirely uncomfortable feeling.
“I would like that,” Megumi smiles at that, and he lets you lean a head on his shoulder while he slips an arm around your waist, pulling your sleepy figure up, and both of you slip into a comfortable silence. 
Tumblr media
© 2023 DOOBEA. do not copy any of my writing and translate/repost.
TAGLIST: @hellothere9597 @sad-darksoul
363 notes · View notes
project-sonadow · 25 days
Text
happy hour drabble # 2
Sonic had been dragging his feet all day. It was Monday again, which meant there wasn't much to do at Speedy's. Count the change, polish his roller skates, clean the fryers. That was his routine. By the end of his shift, it felt like there were lead blocks stuffed in his socks.
One of his coworkers gave him a strange look when he hung up his hat. "What?" he asked.
"Nothing," the girl replied. For some reason, her eyes looked sad. "Get some rest tonight, won't you, Arthur? We can't have you calling out; you're our best skater!"
Sonic raised an eyebrow, but before he could ask what she meant by that, she disappeared out the back door. Though her voice was muffled now, he could still make out her last request: "And don't forget to lock up!"
Rolling his eyes, Sonic twirled the keys in between his fingers and shook his head. This wasn't his first rodeo! After switching out his skates for his regular, non-wheeled shoes, he left the restaurant with his laces still untied. The door closed behind him, and he locked it with a soft click.
Shadow was waiting for him in his usual spot. The headlights on Shadow's motorcycle illuminated the dark parking lot with warm yellow light, and its engine filled the air with a weighty hum. Sonic hopped onto the back of the bike in one swift motion, and then wrapped his arms around Shadow’s waist like he'd been waiting to do it all day.
"No detours tonight," Sonic said. "I'm bushed!"
Shadow glanced back over his shoulder and was greeted by a mess of wild brown-and-blue quills. "Fine," he said. "That disaster you call a coat would give us away in an instant. Save your strength so I can fix it before bed."
If Sonic replied, it was drowned out by the sound of the motorcycle's engine as it roared to life. Sonic rested his head against Shadow's shoulder as the dark hedgehog drove them back to their apartment. The cool air felt nice against Sonic's fur as the wind whipped through it.
Soon, they arrived. Shadow parked the motorcycle in front of their apartment building before the two of them got off. Only then, under the bright white streetlights, did Shadow see the red flush on Sonic's cheeks. Without so much as a word, Shadow stepped forward and pressed the back of his hand against Sonic's forehead.
"Uh?" Sonic blinked. "Sh-- Lance? What're you...?"
Shadow dropped his hand from Sonic's forehead. "You're burning up," he said matter-of-factly. Then, he took Sonic's hand. "Come. Let's go inside."
Sonic let Shadow lead him up the stairs as he processed what he'd just said. "Wait," Sonic said as Shadow pushed open the door to their apartment. "I'm sick? But it's Monday!"
"Correct."
After both of them were inside the apartment, Shadow shut the door. Now, Sonic's face was screwed up like he was trying to solve a difficult math problem. "That doesn't make any sense," Sonic was saying. "I wasn't sick last Monday, or last last Monday, or--"
Shadow interrupted, "It's possible our minds aren't the only things that remain intact throughout time."
Sonic frowned, "So, someone's germs from the last loop are making me sick in this one?" He paused to think about that for a second. "That's not good, dude. That means..."
"Any consequences will persist regardless of our current place in time," Shadow finished. He was frowning now, too.
"Great," Sonic said, even though nothing about this was great. "Well, there goes my Plan A."
"And what was that?"
Sonic grinned, "'Run straight at the bad guy and hope for the best'!"
Shadow pursed his lips and sighed. Loudly. With agitation. "That's always your plan."
Sonic opened his mouth to reply, but a sneeze cut off whatever snarky remark he had prepared. His grin faded as he remembered how tired he was. Talk about a buzzkill! Next time he saw Tails, he'd have to ask him to make a shrink ray, so he could fight off germs with his fists.
Shadow shook his head as he watched Sonic's ears droop. "Go. Sit," he said. "I'll take it from here."
Sonic wanted to argue, but Shadow’s stern brown eyes made him feel funny. “Whatever,” Sonic muttered as he averted his gaze. “Just don’t take too long. I can’t promise I’ll stick around if you do!”
In truth, Sonic wasn’t going anywhere. Now that he was free from the constraints of his 9 to 5, and the horrors of capitalism were held back by the immutable strength of their apartment door, he was left with nothing to distract him from his fever. He shuffled into the bathroom and plopped down on the stool, waiting for Shadow to come in with the dye.
He sniffled. His bones hurt. He scratched his head, irritated. This never would’ve happened to world famous superhero, Sonic the Hedgehog. It was only because he was disguised as some random punk that he’d gotten sick.
“I seem to remember your fox friend recounting a tale to the contrary,” Shadow suddenly said. He’d appeared in the doorway, dye in hand. “Something about you and Arabian Nights
?”
Sonic waved his hand. “That was different,” he said.
Shadow popped the lid off a bottle of brown dye. “Oh? Is that so?”
Huffing indignantly, Sonic replied, “Yeah. That time, my worst enemy was a super powerful genie. This time, it’s customers!”
Shadow lowered his head. Sonic could’ve sworn he saw him smile. “Hold still,” Shadow said, his hands freshly gloved up and covered in dye. “I’ll be quick.”
Regardless of the truth of that statement, Sonic was physically, mentally, and emotionally incapable of holding still. He tried. Of course, he didn’t want to squirm around like a worm in the rain. But he couldn’t help it! Just like he couldn’t help but tap his foot against the linoleum, his claws clack-clack-clacking against the tile as he did so. That was, until one of Shadow’s hands moved to the back of Sonic’s left ear, and Sonic froze.
Sonic felt Shadow rub the dye into his fur. He felt his claws brush gently against the softest part of his ear. And Sonic stopped thinking about how lame it was to be sick. He didn’t worry about holding still. His heart fluttered in his chest and his eyes closed, totally focused on how good it felt to have Shadow’s fingers in his fur.
Shadow paused, having noticed the strange shift in Sonic’s behavior. But there was no time for him to lean forward and investigate, because a gentle pressure was now pushing against the palm of his hand, urging him to continue. 
It was Sonic, leaning into Shadow’s touch. 
Shadow nearly choked, but he managed to keep his composure. He isn’t feeling well, Shadow reminded himself. That’s all this was.
And yet, when Shadow resumed styling Sonic’s quills, he wasn’t thinking about covering up all the blue spots anymore. Instead, he focused his attention on just that one spot behind Sonic’s ear. He didn’t know why. Maybe he pitied Sonic. As the Ultimate Lifeform, he would never know how it felt to be ill.
Sonic leaned deeper into Shadow’s touch. His tense shoulders relaxed. His job, their mission, the time loop–none of that mattered anymore. Somewhere inside his chest, next to his heart, a soft rumbling began. Purring.
Sonic was purring.
Abruptly, Shadow stood. He turned away from Sonic, so he didn’t see him blink his eyes open sleepily. 
“Shadow
?”
“That’s all for now,” Shadow said stiffly. “Count yourself lucky. If not for your
 illness
 you would’ve been sitting there for much longer.”
And then he exited the bathroom, leaving Sonic sitting there as the last of his purrs quietly faded away.
179 notes · View notes
ddejavvu · 8 months
Note
for the multiverse Monday: reader and rockstar! Sirius have been dating for some time and even though it's not something public he always leaves something out, like some part of the reader accidentally appearing in a photo or interviews with double meanings that imply that he have something with someone <3
today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)
this post is 18+, minors dni.
Sirius's livestream is still going; in fact, you've been watching for the past forty minutes. He'd offered to plant you front and center before the camera and introduce you to his fans, but in a toothpaste-stained sweatshirt and granny panties, you're not eager to show yourself off to the world. Instead you're nestled snugly in bed, blankets tucked under your chin as you burn Sirius's image into your mind.
His hair's bundled up atop his head in a sloppy bun of your own creation, held together with a bright pink scrunchie. He's known for his less-than-bland stage outfits, but you've seen a handful of comments about the hair tie already, wondering if it's really his.
"Yeah, anyways, doesn't matter what the waitress said." He drawls, finished recounting a story about a fan he'd met over breakfast, "Can't remember, really, but the guy was fantastic, and yes I did pay his bill."
He dodges a praise-filled comment, "No, no, 'm not an angel, don't exaggerate. Just bought a guy breakfast. More of a grandma, really."
Sirius is an angel, to you. Maybe a fallen one, what with his dark aesthetic and fiery eyes, but miraculous and heavenly either way. He clears his throat, somewhat overwhelmed by the attention he typically loves so much. He shifts in his seat, and the commenters catch his mistake before you do.
onceyougoblack: ARE THOSE CONDOMS???????
siriblxck: not the condoms in the back 💀
blacksangel: sorry guys i guess i forgot to tell him to put them away after last night đŸ€­
There are, in fact, condoms behind Sirius. He'd shifted on the couch cushions just enough to expose a large box of condoms behind him on the dining table, the most convenient place to store them so that he could pick one up on his way into the house. He notices the comments and lets out a sharp bark of laughter, reaching back to push them out of frame.
"Sorry, sorry," He snickers, "Jesus, m'gonna get booted off the platform for that. Listen, better safe than sorry, okay? You can make fun of me all you want but I don't have an STD and neither does- well," Your heart stutters in your chest as you see his lips begin to form your name, then stop, "Uh, anyone else. Christ, can't really come back from that one. I'm gonna-" He stammers, staring at the endless scroll of comments, "Uh, I'm gonna end the live. Wrap it before you tap it, mates, g'bye."
It's barely two seconds after your screen goes dark and informs you that Sirius has ended the live video before you hear his footsteps racing towards your door, then he bursts through, flooding the room with light.
"Did you see that?" He pants, eyes wide and grin enormous as you nod.
"Yes, I did, you're going to be hearing about that in every interview for the rest of your life, Sirius."
"Can't wait to be grilled by talk show hosts," He snorts, and you're afraid his smirk may never fade, especially not when he slides beneath the covers and his hands instantly find the curve of your ass, "Hope they saw the 'extra large' label."
644 notes · View notes
highvern · 3 months
Text
Teach Me VI
Final
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
Pairing: Lee Dokyeom (Seokmin) x fem!reader
Genre: smut, humor, college au
Warnings: angst, pining, crying, alcohol consumption, jealous pouty DK, meddling Seungkwan and Hoshi, eventual smut, dry humping, making out, face fucking, munch DK as always, unprotected sex, cream pie, they're simps for each and its disgusting!, DK wearing a chain that dangles in readers face bc im sick and twisted, kinda choking but not really?
Length: ~7.4k
Note: SURPRISE!! ITS HERE!!!! this series started in OCTOBER which is wild to think about. two months of these two plaguing my day to day and so many amazing readers interacting with the story honestly makes a little emotional for it to end. this is the first series i've ever done and now it's over so soon but there are bigger and better things on the horizon! (goes and cries in the corner) If you notice any errors or typos pls ignore.
This blog is intended for 18+ only! MDNI or you'll be blocked!
read more here
[MONDAY 11:23 AM]
YOU: Home
Mr. Boo: Thank you! Love you!
Mr. Boo: We can have a bff night when I get back
[MONDAY 4:48 PM] 
DOKYEOM: Hope you got home safe
DOKYEOM: I’m sorry, I shouldn't have spoken to you like that.
DOKYEOM: Can we talk this week?
Dokyeom doesn’t leave his room the rest of the weekend. A combination of fear of Seungkwan beating the crap out of him and absolute heartbreak keep him wrapped in the covers. Not even Soonyoung can elicit more than a half-hearted grunt when checking if his roommate is still alive.
The drive back to campus is no different. Staring longingly out the window, Dokyeom stares at his unanswered messages. When he goes to your Instagram he finds your account missing with the sinking realization you blocked him.
Seventy two of the best and subsequent worse hours of his life crumbled your fragile relationship. He thought you returned his feelings. 
After Soonyoung blabled a drunken confession on Dokyeom’s behalf, he worried you’d drive off in the night; swiftly rejecting him. But you wrapped your arms around him and held him as you slept. Kissed him awake in the early morning sun, nothing but a soft smile and presses of lips across his face. It was better than anything Dokyeom hoped for. He thought it meant you liked him back even if you didn’t say it yet.
But then you interrogated him and the hot tub and it all came crashing down. You were trying to let him down easy, buttering him up before giving him a reality check. It’d hurt of course. The tsunami of shame at thinking he had a chance and then adding insult to injury when you called him childish. 
Dokyeom knows he was wrong for his reaction but embarrassment sent him spiraling and he needed to get as far away from you as possible. 
And now that he’d succeed, he doesn't think he can find a way back.
—
Monday and Tuesday are spent suffocating under a mound of blankets, munching on a carton of ice cream, and crying till your head hurts and your throat is sore. The string of texts from Dokyeom remains thoroughly ignored; but each buzz of your phone raises your heart rate to unhealthy levels until you read the notification from some store offering a discount. 
You ignore the string of messages from Dokyeom, tempted more and more to block him as they come through; but you can’t bring yourself to do it. Just like you can’t bring yourself to delete the pictures of you two together peppered throughout your camera roll, or the most recent video that does nothing but make you sick to your stomach.
Tuesday night your roommate returns to campus, cheery and well rested from a weekend with her boyfriend back home. You hide from her friendly questions about your weekend in the bathroom, shrouded in steam and bubbles.
Looking at yourself in the mirror after you're sufficiently pruned and chilled from freeze drops, you notice the traces of Dokyeom still on your skin. 
A tiny maroon bruise is fading to a sick green right under your collar bone. Prodding it with the tip of your finger, you wince at the tenderness of the flesh. 
You hate it. 
Hate how somehow your eyes are thick with a gloss of tears at the sight of a hickey, they way you can’t catch your breath when you realize the shirt you brought in with you is another one of his you lifted over the months.
Dokyeom hadn’t been your boyfriend. You two hadn’t even been casually dating. Over and over again you remind yourself you were just friends who had sex, and you shouldn’t be this torn up over a guy. Dokyeom didn’t like you and that wasn’t something to hold against him. 
But the facts do nothing to stop the knot permanently lodged in your throat.
—
The first time you see Dokyeom post-not-breakup, he’s sitting in one of the rolling chairs at the mahogany table you two claimed for your usual study sessions. 
Blood frozen, heart clenching unbearably, you turn and walk right back out the revolving glass doors, hoping he didn’t see you.
But the echo of quick footsteps behind you say otherwise.
“Hey! Y/N!”
Faltering for a moment, you keep walking as if you hadn’t heard anything. And because the universe has a sick sense of humor, the crossing light turns red just as you approach, leaving you stranded with the one person you didn’t want to see.
You whip around at tap against your arm with such ferocity you nearly stumble.
Dokyeom has the gall to smile at you sheepishly before opening his mouth, “Hey.”
“Hi.” 
“You weren’t in lab yesterday.”
“Nope.” You respond monotonously, glancing behind you at the still red crossing light.
“Did you need notes or—”
“No, I got them already.”
“Oh, well—”
The light turns green, allowing you to race across the road before Dokyeom can finish his thought. The heat of his gaze doesn't leave your back until you turn down the next road leading you home.
—
Your second interaction with Dokyeom is in the same sterile lab your friendship started. You slip inside just before class starts, narrowly avoiding getting locked out by your grumpy instructor. 
Sliding into an open seat near the door, you stare straight ahead as he delves into the topic for this afternoon, pointedly ignoring the pair of eyes watching you from the familiar station at the back of the room.
“Finals are almost upon us people so I would like to take this opportunity to remind you that the lab is not open after hours. Meaning, you should prioritize your time in this room. Now let’s get started.”
The guy you’ve been partnered with is nice enough, willing to follow your lead as you read off the necessary equipment. He even manages to crack a few jokes, though not funny you’re thankful for the distraction.
You learn his name is San, he’s an underclassman and he doesn’t understand anything about the class despite attending every lecture and office hour available. 
When he leans over to copy the results you’ve scratched into your notebook, you hear a crack and shatter behind you. A dozen heads twist towards the source of commotion, finding a red faced Dokyeom staring at you.
“Mr. Lee! May I remind you our lab equipment isn’t cheap!”
“Sorry,” he mutters, shuffling towards the broom hanging on the wall.
You focus on ignoring him the rest of class, which is surprisingly easy with your new partner pestering you with inane questions. 
A lull hits, waiting for the digital scale to spit out a final reading. You managed to pull well ahead of schedule, calling over your instructor to verify your results before collecting your things. 
“So,” San starts, stuffing his own notebook in his bag. “Would you be down to tutor me sometime?”
“Oh, I uh—”
“No pressure! I just saw some of the old quizzes in your folder and thought maybe you could help me out.”
“Sure,” you smile, taking his phone to enter his number. 
Voices from the different stations echo off the blank walls, drowning your conversation out.
“Awesome! My boyfriend took this class last year but did about as well as I’m doing.”
Returning his phone back, you start walking to the door. “Oh, really?” 
“Yeah, he told me to take geology instead but I didn’t listen.” He laughs, stepping forward to hold the heavy wooden door open for you to pass.
You miss the sound of a second beaker breaking as you walk down the hall with your new friend.
—
“Dude, you have got to calm down.” Soonyoung pleads, head hanging off the couch as his legs extend into the air. He swears the increased blood flow makes him smarter.
Dokyeom nearly wears a rut into the carpet from his pacing across the length of their tiny living room. He’s been in a mood since that afternoon, watching his not-girlfriend-possibly-no-longer-friend giggle with some dude that wasn’t him. And then give her number to said dude. In front of him. All while she completely ignored his existence.
“He probably just asked her to study together.”
Jealousy isn’t Dokyeom’s thing. Sure he may whine and pout if he isn’t getting enough attention, but he’s never got the blood boil urge scream like he has right now. And about a girl that won’t even look at him.
Tangling both fists in his hair, Dokyeom tries to calm down. Soonyoung was probably right. You’re a genius at chemistry, you’re slated to officially tutor through the library next semester pending final grades, and the guy Dokyeom swears he’s never seen in class most likely asked you for help. It’s not his place to be jealous.
“Hate to be that guy but you need to get a grip”
It's easier said than done. There's four more weeks of class plus a four hour final and your Seungkwan’s friend. You’re not going to disappear after the semester ends and Dokyeom’s feelings surely aren’t going anywhere given he’s got a constant reminder that you’re the woman he lost his virginity to. 
If he knew inviting you to that party at the beginning of the semester would end up like this, he'd have sat somewhere else the first day of lab.
Soonyoung chokes on his own saliva when Dokyeom collapses on the floor with a reluctant, “You’re right.”
“I am?” Eyes bugging so hard they nearly pop from his head.
“I just have to move on.”
They both silently agree to pretend Dokyeom is capable of that.
—
San and his boyfriend, Jay, turn out to be horrible study partners. You are hardly able to focus from the way your abs hurt from laughter; Jay has a talent for self-deprecating humor.
“You didn’t!” You gasp, ignoring the daggers being glared into you back by other library goers. 
Typically you’d respect the needs of others, but they chose to sit on the first floor; if they needed real quiet they should have sat upstairs where it’s enforced by a graduate librarian with nothing better to do.
Jay nods solemnly, “I threw up on him during our first date. But he,” flinging an accusatory finger at his boyfriend, “insisted we go to some weird food truck so it’s his own fault.”
“You said you liked to try new things!” San defends.
“Not food poisoning!”
Descending into giggles, you feel sorry Seungkwan is missing out on two people he’d get along with. But he canceled at the last minute, leaving you at the large oak table all by your lonesome until you’d run into your classmate, looking for a seat.
From the corner of your eye, you see a familiar someone approaching. White blonde hair and trademark grin, Soonyoung stops at the edge of the table.
“Hey, Y/N” he grins.
Sending him a tightlipped smile you return the greeting.
Soonyoung introduces himself to your tablemates, both just as friendly as he. Thick palpable tension descends into the warm atmosphere and you’re about to rise and get another coffee just to escape it when Soonyoung turns back to you.
“Could I take a look at your results from the last lab? We didn’t get to finish in time.”
The unspoken half of ‘we’ is Dokyeom. 
You hate the flare of curiosity flashing in your head. When you partnered with Dokyeom you always finished on time if not early, even with his joking.
“Ugh, sure.” You agree, digging into your bag for your notebook.
Not waiting for an invitation, Soonyoung slides into the chair next to you, pulling out his own notebook to copy down your answers quickly. But even after collecting the necessary info, he lingers.
“So you’re in lab with us too, right?” He asks San.
“Yeah, but I’m probably taking it again next year even with Y/N’s help.” San smiles.
“And you?” Soonyoung asks Jay.
“No, I took it last year.”
“Glad to see someone can make it out alive! Do you guys mind if I hang out until my friend arrives?”
The friend is definitely Dokyeom but you don’t want to look like a bitch in front of your new acquaintances nor have to explain the mess of your love life to either of them. 
Soonyoung’s self satisfied grin when you flash a tight lipped smile and nod nearly tempts you into strangling him. Why is he choosing to torture you? It’s Dokyeom’s fault no matter how you look at the situation. He tricked you; had you falling for the saccharine persona and ambiguous confessions. Dokyeom rejected you at the cabin for everyone to see, humiliated you, and then had the nerve to act upset when you wouldn’t speak to him.
You try to focus on the worksheet in front of you, a proactive effort to prepare for the final exam still far away. Drowning in extra credit had been an exhaustive effort to get your mind off of your issues but Soonyoung had to ruin it. And now he’s laughing with San and Jay like best friends and it’s all too much. 
Shooting up from your seat, they all stop to stare as shaky hands pack up your materials. “Sorry, I forgot I had a thing. Somewhere else. Bye!” 
Halfway to the door before anyone thinks to question your eagerness to leave, you walk right into another person.
“Shit sorry!” The faceless stranger exclaims as your books and papers go flying.
“No, I should have been watching wher–”
And when you look up, Dokyeom is staring back. 
“Sorry, let me help you.” 
“It's fine!” You snap, scrambling to shove everything into your bag.
You will not cry in the library: not over Dokyeom, not in front of Dokyeom. But once the concrete steps out front greet you the first tear falls and they don’t stop until you fall asleep curled up in your bed.
—
Later that week, in the sanctuary of your dorm, you indulge in contraband alcohol and the hype of your best friend.
“You need to just rip the bandaid off.” Seungkwan announces, arms thrown wide to punctuate his point.
“And how do I do that? I still have class with him!”
“Okay but how much of his stuff is still here?”
“Only like a few things.” you shrug, glancing around the room.
“Oh, really?” Seungkwan asks, throwing himself from his perch on your bed, crossing to the basket full of laundry in front of your closet.  “Because this is a hoodie from his high school, this is the shirt I got him for his birthday a few years ago,” he shuffles around the collection of socks and pants to pull more of Dokyeom’s belongings out. “And I’m pretty sure you don’t wear boxers.”
Seungkwan launched the wad of clothing your way, disappearing into the bathroom in search of more evidence of your ex-friend with benefits.
“You let him keep a toothbrush here?” Seungkwan yells, head popping out with the neon green piece of plastic dangling between his fingers.
It's tossed into the growing pile at the foot of your bed, your rage-fueled focus on the smattering of objects on your desk. 
More cheap wine and outrageous laughter has Seungkwan encouraging you to race across campus and return everything as soon as possible.
Red faced, he steadies you by your arms, “Listen, the sooner you get rid of this stuff the better. You’re like subconsciously holding on to him or whatever.”
Mooney eyed, you nod at your friend’s wisdom, scrambling for a bag.
The tote of Dokyeom’s belongings you’ve accumulated over the months sits heavy on your shoulders; bulging with the assortment of clothes, a spare phone charger, and a book that was severely overdue at the library you’d found under your bed.
Each click of your shoe against the tile floor echoes in the eerie silence as you walk down the hall towards the door of his apartment. The sterile lighting and gray walls are familiar yet alien under the new circumstances you're visiting. 
You won’t be greeted with the smile you’ve grown to miss or the puppy-like excitement that once made you feel special. Both things of the past you hope to forget. No one had your heart fluttering or twisting in knots the way Dokyeom had. But those happy memories are just memories. And the sooner you cut him out, the sooner you can forget them.
Your fiery determination to get over him ignited in the walls of your bedroom had begun to smolder as the chilly wind and movement sobered you up. 
A large part of you hopes it’ll be Soonyoung answering the door, Dokyeom absent for whatever convenient reason as you dumped his belongings and walked away for the last time. Worse case scenario, neither are home and you're left feeling like an idiot, lugging the ridiculously heavy bag back across campus in the freezing wind and rain. 
Worse-er case scenario, Dokyeom is home.
The door to the boys’ apartment is like all the others, but the hot pink “please don’t do coke in our bathroom” doormat stands out. A gift from Jeonghan, if you remember correctly.
A quick rap of knocks announces your presence before you can lose your nerve, stepping back as you wait for it to crack open.
As luck would have it, Dokyeom answers the door.
“Um–” he starts, clearly confused by what he’s seeing.
Shoulders square, back pin straight, you thrust the bag at him. “Here’s your stuff.”
“Oh.” Dokyeom exclaims, still confused, but cradling the tote into his stomach.
“Well, bye.” You turn to leave but stop when he calls you back.
“I can grab your stuff real quick. Since you’re already here.”
It is a horrible idea. Alone with Dokyeom, in his apartment, where the only person to hold you accountable is yourself. But you can be done with this entire mess once you have the hodge podge of items you’ve no doubt accumulated here.
Nodding once, you follow as Dokyeom turns to head towards his bedroom.
Suffocating tension, thick as tar, fills the air. Dokyeom doesn't attempt to replace it with ill timed jokes as he digs in the black dresser in the corner of his room. The bottom left drawer had been long cleaned out of his own clothes, making room for the odds and ends left behind following your rendezvous. 
A sizable pile of clothes lands on his unmade bed, followed by some toiletries you forgot at the cabin in your haste to flee.
Your ears are ringing from the quiet at this point, unable to look at Dokyeom swapping his belongings from the canvas tote with your own. Focusing on your phone, you scroll mindlessly, as Dokyeom works slowly to prolong the torture. He unfolds and refolds all the shirts, lost pairs of pants and shorts, before cramming them into the bag. If you took a second to look at him, you’d see longing glances in your direction with each item he packs away. But you don’t chance it until he approaches you when he’s finished.
“Here,” he says, eyes downcast as he hands you back the full bag.
Lifting it from his hands, you move back to the living room, bee lining for the front door and the sobering cold air outside.
“Wait.”
The smooth metal doorknob is cold against the wrinkles of your palm. All you need to do is twist and it's over. Unlatch the lock, step outside and your relationship with Dokyeom, whatever it may have been, is done. No more crying, no more wondering. Only four more classes and you can leave the mess of the past semester behind you forever.
But you can’t do it. The smallest part of your heart, buried under the weight of anger and sadness, pleads for you to stay. To give Dokyeom one last chance.
You wait for him to say something else, not moving a muscle as you take shallow breaths. Body tense in preparation, you’re afraid you might shake out of your skin. Being alone with Dokyeom was a stupid idea. 
Realizing you're not going to leave, you hear him shuffle closer.
You jump when he speaks again, voice right over your shoulder. “Can we please talk?” 
“What’s there to talk about?” You frown. 
At his responding silence, you chance a glance over your shoulder, met with sad brown eyes. 
“I just—,” he shakes his head, chin tipping towards the floor to examine his socks.
Prompting him again, “What do you want, Dokyeom?”
“You asked me if I liked you
 and I do.”
You squash the seed of hope rooting in your chest, afraid that if he tramples it again you’ll never recover. Turning to face him, you cross your arms pensively. His confession should send your heart racing and your cheeks flushing. But why does he sound so sad about it?
Dokyeom scrubs a hand down his face in frustration. “I should have told you sooner but I— I kept waiting for the right time and then that night happened and I thought I messed everything up. But then we started fooling around so I thought ‘there’s no way she likes me.’ You know? 
From where you’re standing, Dokyeom is exactly the kind of guy anyone would go for. Warm as a ray of sunshine, contagious laughter, thoughtful. Excited by life, and brimming with affection for anyone lucky enough to be considered his friend. 
It’s a shame he can’t see himself the way you see him.
“I know all you wanted was to hook up and I was fine with that until you came to the cabin. Soonyoung had to run his mouth, and I thought you were trying to let me down easy in the hot tub so I got embarrassed.”
Biting your lip to stop the rebuttal simmering on the tip of your tongue, you feel the scowl melt off your face, morphing into a questioning gaze.
“You’re like, the coolest person I know. You’re funny and you’re smart and pretty, god you’re so pretty.” he breaths, finally looking at you. “And I feel like every time I get to see you I can’t breathe. And us hooking up made it worse because I’ve liked you since the first day of class when you sat down next to me and smiled at me. I thought I was gonna throw up.” Dokyeom raises his hands in defense as you scoff, quickly clarifying, “In a good way! You just— you make me nervous and stupid and now you hate me.”
He finishes the last part in a whisper, face vulnerable, looking at you helplessly.
“I don’t hate you.” You warble, launching yourself into his arms, tangling your limbs around him to squeeze as close as possible. It’s ungraceful, your head knocking into his chin, his feet scrambling to balance the unexpected shift of weight. But Dokyeom barely hesitates before pulling you into his chest, face buried in your neck while trying to force you into his skin by his arms around your waist.
Two puzzle pieces, carved to fit perfectly together. 
“You don’t?”
Squeezing him tighter, you calm in the thud of his heart and the pine scent of his cologne. You both simply bask in the presence of one another. At a week and a half, this is the longest you’ve gone without the other since you started your arrangement.
Dokyeom presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, sweet as sugar. His lips ghost against your hairline as he starts to speak again. “I’m sorry for the way I acted. I shouldn’t have freaked out on you.”
“I shouldn’t have called you childish.” You apologize, tipping your head back to meet his gaze.
“I mean you were right. I was being a dick.”
“But I wasn’t in any shape to call you out when I was doing the same thing.”
“The same
” Dokyeom echoes, confused.
“If we weren’t so dumb we could have been dating for weeks by now.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?” You smile.
“We really are dumb.”
Pure unadulterated joy takes flight on his face. Dokyeom cups your face in his hands, forehead meeting your own as you smile at him, his own dazzling in return.
“Yeah, but at least we have each other.”
The bark of awkward laughter and shaky words are unstoppable as you cower in his arms. 
“So you’re okay with me calling you my girlfriend?”
“You can call me whatever you want.” You sigh, biting your lip at the idea.
“Even my shmoopie poopie?”
Nose scrunching as you laugh at his ridiculousness, you shake your head vigorously in objection. “You can call me whatever you want besides that.”
“Baby cakes?” He asks, peppering a kiss on your cheek.
“No!”
“Honeybuns?” 
Another kiss on the tip of your nose.
“No.”
“What about–”
A firm press to his mouth silences Dokyeom as you hum.
— 
Soonyoung returns to his apartment after another failed date, eager to shoot the shit with his roommate over a few beers and some video games. But when he opens the door to his home, he finds a trail of clothes flung haphazardly across the furniture, leading straight to said roommate's room. 
No fucking way. Soonyoung thinks. 
Then he hears a thud from behind the door, followed by a familiar laugh he hasn’t heard in the apartment in well over two weeks.
No FUCKING way! He huffs, reaching for his phone.
—
Down the street, Seungkwan smirks as the expected ding of a new Venmo notification shrills through the silence of your dorm:
“Kwon Soonyoung paid you $50.00. – HOW DID YOU KNOW? – Your Venmo balance is now $135.00.”
Epilogue:
Finals season rushes forward rapidly. Two days before you’re set to fly back home for winter break, Chem grades are released.
Another pair of matching As to be celebrated in typical fashion but this time you’re Dokyeom’s girlfriend and he’s sweating like it’s his first time all over again. The night you both confessed had been you last night together. Dokyeom insisted you take things slow, his fear of messing up again forcing him to take caution. 
It's sweet. How he wants to take you out, wine and dine you as if a certain video didn’t still exist on both your phones. And you’d enjoyed the full experience too; walks around campus with interlaced fingers, shy glances in class, and girlish giggles as he offered his jacket on a cold night. The innocent good night kisses dropped on your lips in front of your door that have Dokyeom insisting “just one more” for an hour before he finally lets you slip inside your room.
It’d been everything you dreamed of and more.
But you're both tired of make outs that lead nowhere. Of sitting in Dokyeom’s lap at parties and not letting your hands wonder like you’re both dying too. Waking up in his bed and pretending you don’t feel him nudging the curve of your ass as before he hides in the bathroom to take care of his boner; leaving you to stare at the ceiling, fighting the urge to follow him into the shower and lend a helping hand.
Tonight, you’ve reached the boiling point and it’s spilling over.
“‘s okay?” He asks into the curve of your neck, palms gliding up your stomach underneath the soft cream sweater you’d worn to dinner.
Humming as your head lulls against the interior of his front door, the warmth of his mouth and hands making your brain fuzzy. Tonight, everything feels like more. Your nipples peak at the smallest brush of his tongue, back bowing under the swipes of his thumb against your ribs; even when he pressed a chaste kiss to the back of your intertwined fingers on the walk to his apartment ripped the air from your lungs.
Dokyeom feels the nerves of that first night, but you’re acting like the desperate virgin he’d been. Drooling to touch and be touched. For your boyfriend to string you out one last time before you both return home for a few weeks of winter break only to pick right back up in the new year.
Snaking a hand down his front, you palm the half hard length with a firm pressure that pulls his hips forward like a magnet. A strained grunts sings in your ear as Dokyeom rocks firmly in your grip, pressing you into the wall under his torturous grind.
Turning to nudge your nose into his cheek softly, hot kisses dropping across his jaw as you bid him to take off his pants; pushing them down clumsily. You don’t bother with the brass button or rough zipper, blinded by desperation and simply clawing the stiff material downwards in an effort to get beneath.
You manage to trickle to your knees, slipping through Dokyeom’s hold like water. The hard floor biting into your skin as you kneel before him to mouth at the thin fabric of his boxer. Dokyeom’s elbows land against the wall, caging you in as he watches from above; entranced by the shallow dip of your lips over the covered head of his cock and the lash of your tongue where you taste him through the fabric.
Tonight isn’t the night for teasing, so you have his boxers landing atop his jeans around his ankles in a blink. Tongue following the vein bulging on the underside of his cock as your hand returns to allow your thumb to dig into his slit.
Dokyeom whimpers a pathetic “fuck,” as you play with him, eagerly lapping up his shaft before sucking him into your mouth; hand dropping to cup his balls, the other rest on his stomach to hold his own shirt out of the way.
You missed how responsive he is to your touch, melting in the palm of your hand as he chases the warmth of your mouth with his hips. Anyone who walks by the door would undoubtedly hear what’s happening on the other side, the choked whimpers from you and guttural moans from Dokyeom combining into a lewd symphony.
Head hitting the wall behind you with a dull thud, you let Dokyeom take over; humming as each press forward leaves the taste of his cock on your tongue. There’s something degrading in letting him fuck your mouth like this, sandwiched between his hips and the wall as he uses you to get off.
You gasp for breath when he pulls away, tongue sticking out to bid him back but his slender fingers cupping your chin distract you straight into his lips.
Pulling you to your feet, Dokyeom dips his tongue between your lips as he leads you blindly to the couch. His mouth is nothing but taking; stealing your breath away, your sanity. Things you’d happily let him have if it meant he wouldn’t stop. But Dokyeom was a giver too. A slide of his tongue lit a fire under your skin, fanning the desperation bordering on depravity. 
“Fuck me,” you plead, grinding your aching cunt against his thigh. 
Dokyeom responds by pressing into you harder, teeth tearing into your bottom lip as his cock drools against your thigh, staining your jeans.
You're so turned on it hurts, pussy painfully empty and panties drenched from heavy petting. If Dokyeom doesn’t do something soon, you have half a mind to get yourself off without him.
Dokyeom is trying, fighting to not to blow his load on your leg as you whine and arch beneath him. For him. But when you manage to close your fist around his length, giving a firm tug with the twist around the head you know he goes crazy for, it’s all over. Dokyeom’s core tightens as he spills on your sweater, streaks of his cum ruining the fabric as he pants into your mouth. Your tight grip doesn’t falter as you work him through it, teeth bruising his jaw as he paints you with his seed.
When Dokyeom gains sentience again, he winces in shame.
“Shit, sorry. I didn’t— I wouldn’t,” he tries to apologize, but stops when you part your lips to lap at your stained fingers; eyes trained on the pink of your tongue dipping out to swipe against the tips for taste.
Mouth wide as he stares, Dokyeom thinks he might come again without any help as you suck your fingers. His own dip into the pool of cum dimpling across your stomach, lifting to your mouth to replace yours. Dokyeom groans as your eyes never leave his, heated and heavy lidded as lick them clean and swallow his cum.
Dropping his hand to the back of your neck, he angles your head so his tongue can delve into your mouth. It’s messy and disgusting but you like it and that’s all Dokyeom cares about as he works to free you both of your clothes. He’s stark naked easily, shirt gone over the back of the couch in no time. But your clothes require more focus than either of you are capable of when Dokyeom is on top of you.
His feet hit the ground before he rises to stand, dragging you up to roughly undress you. You don’t seem to mind if the way you fist your jeans down is an inclination. Outer layers gone, Dokyeom finally gets a peek at the early Christmas present you’d been hoping to surprise him with.
Lacy maroon panties and a match bra hug your figure, accentuating your shape in the most mouthwater ways. Eyebrows raised to his hairline, Dokyeom heaves at the masterpiece you present him with.
Drops of your flesh peek through the holes in the lace, teasing him with what’s underneath. The high cut sides of your thong dig into your hips, making your legs look impossibly long and highlighting the sway of your thighs. Straining to pull his eyes up further, Dokyeom finds the bottom hem of your bra. Tongue rolling out of his mouth as the cups push your breasts up and together, teasing Dokyeom with ideas of fucking his cock between them as you lick at the tip.
You look like a goddess and Dokyeom is happy to get on his knees to worship every inch.
Dokyeom catches you smirking at his obvious reaction when he finally looks at your face. Stepping into his space, your fingers find purchase in the short hairs at the base of his head. A cold sweat breaks on his brow as you smile like the cat who got the canary.
“Do you like my outfit, Kyeomie?” You ask, tone deceptively sweet.
If he was capable of any thought beyond cataloging the swaths of naked skin and curves, maybe he’d answer more eloquently than grunting like a caveman.
“I picked it for you.”
Dokyeom lets his hands find your hips, squeezing the plush flesh in his palms as you continue to toy with him. His fingers pluck the thin elastic while his mind wanders down the extensive list of things he’s dying to do to you.
“Do you wanna see the whole thing?”
“There’s more?”
Falling to the floor, you dig into the pocket of your jeans for whatever the last piece of your outfit, if you could call it that. Rising again you present him with a thin piece of ribbon and a silver chain, both causing Dokyeom’s face to twist in confusion.
You prompt him to take the scarlet ribbon, a perfect match to the set you’ve donned, allowing Dokyeom to spot the clasp at the ends and the small silver charm dangling in the middle.
A sun is embossed on the front of the circular piece of silver. And engraved on the back is his name.
Having his name around your throat while he fucked you isn’t a kink he knew existed. But now Dokyeom is pretty sure he’ll be haunted by the idea for the rest of his life. The silver chain still in your hands has a similar charm but with a moon. Dokyeom’s vision goes fuzzy and his brain clouds at the assumption your name is on the back to match.
“Will you help me put it on?” You ask innocently, turn around so Dokyeom can slip what he can only describe as a mock collar around your neck.
Dokyeom latches the clasp with shaky hands, the strip of silk pulled taunt around your neck with each breath. When you face him once again, the charm sits in the hollow of your throat, silver winking at him seductively. 
The icy metal of the chain bites into his skin erotically as you raise to clasp it around his neck. Your nose nudges against his jaw, a ghosting open mouth kiss landing on his jugular as the charm teases the muscles of his chest where it dangles.
You land on the couch with a squeak, taken aback by Dokyeom shredding the delicate fabric of your panties with clumsy hands as he struggles to get them off you. Bullying his way between your legs, he apologizes with a heavenly strip of his tongue through your slit.
He eats you like a man starved, nails leaving crescents in the tops of your thighs as he spreads you so wide the muscles in your hips scream in objection. Dokyeom’s tongue dips into your hole, collecting your essence on his tongue before spitting it back on your clit and digging in. The swollen nub slips against the flat of his wet muscle, and when his lips gently close around it he sucks just the way you taught him to you he’s rewarded with a wanton sob.
Whines fly from between your lips at the torturous pleasure, thrashing as Dokyeom uses all his strength to pin you and place. Spots dance along your vision, expanding as two fingers push past your folds to stretch you out. Dokyeom knows your pussy like the back of his hand and he stuffs you just right with his fingers.
All you can do is squeeze your eyes shut and hold on tightly as you fly over the edge. Racing forward under the heat of Dokyeom’s mouth and harsh thrusts of his fingers till you weep pitifully. You’re floating through space under his attention; mouth open over silent begs not to stop, eyes clenched shut. Every beat of your frantic heart carries satisfaction through tense muscles till you are pliant and boneless.
“Too much,” you whimper, thighs forcing close around his head.
Dokyeom takes it in stride. The combination of your essence and his saliva soaking chin, leaving a damp trail across your body as he kisses his way to your mouth.
His thumb finds the ribbon taunt around your throat, focusing on the piece of metal resting against your skin as you taste yourself on his tongue.
Panting into his mouth, you mewl something vaguely sounding like “want you.”
Luckily, Dokyeom is more than happy to give you whatever you want.
Nodding like a bobble head, he pulls you down into his lap as he kneels on the floor. The head of his cock proddes against your entrance, slipping in just enough for you to take the rest with ease.
The stretch is nothing short of bliss; so deep you can taste him in the back of your throat. Dokyeom fills you perfectly, the small nip of pain from not taking him in the past month only multiplying the satisfaction you feel at finally having him inside you again.
With herculean effort, you rise to allow only a few inches to exit before dropping back down. Hands searching for leverage, you balance on the cushions behind you as you grind into his lap.
Dokyeom doesn’t know where to look, overwhelmed by his options; your face twisted around gasping breaths; or your chest, still clad in your bra, tits bouncing with each movement; or where his cock disappears inside you. 
But the silver heart around your throat seems to snag his focus easily.
Dokyeom isn’t possessive but the way it not so subtly declares you as his makes his cock throb. He’s the only one that gets to have you like this, and you him. The twin pendants remind him you’re his girlfriend and everything beyond slips away as he watches it jerk around with every movement.
Before long, your legs burn from effort, ruining your already unstable motions into nothing more than stuttered ruts. Dokyeom’s hands palming your ass assist in lifting you to the couch, limbs awkwardly sprawled off the edges but he doesn’t slow while your nails scratch deep lines into his shoulders.
“Oh, don’t stop! Fuck, please don’t stop.” You beg, head thrown back into the cushions.
Stopping sounds like the worst idea he’s ever heard. Dokyeom needs this. Gloved snuggly in your heat after so long is the only cure for the constant plague of memories of pestering him day and night. He knows they won’t go away but at least he won’t feel like ripping his skin off every time you're within a fifteen foot radius.
The wet clap of your bodies grows to a crescendo, your orgasm on the horizon and tightening your muscles into a deathgrip on his length. Spots float in Dokyeom’s vision at the squeeze and he drops his mouth to yours to lap up all your high pitched whines.
When he rises again to gasp against his own pleasure, the chain you gifted him dangles right above your lips and a nuclear bomb detonates.
You cum again with Dokyeom’s thumb under the ribbon encircling your neck, a tease of choked breath as he rubs the charm like a lifeline. Voice cracking, earth shatter, mind numb pleasure from the tip of your nose to your pinky toe. 
Dokyeom is babbling over you. Rhythm abandoned as he subjected to the tight squeeze of your worn cunt until that punch to his gut hits. Each rope of cum makes his cock throb as he plows you with a deep thrust, stilling to empty himself inside you.
You're fully crushed into the itchy upholstery as his arms buckle.
“Wow,” you gasp, catching your breath.
What else can you say? A month of no touching culminating into the best sex of your life with your devastating boyfriend while he wears a chain with your name on it.
Dokyeom cackles into your collarbone, chest tickling against yours until he leans back to look at you. 
His hair resembles an electrocuted poodle, his lips are red and swollen, and sweat glosses his skin in the low light. But Dokyeom is glowing with life and happiness and all the things that make the world good.
“I love you.”
Dokyeom responds with a girlish shriek at your impromptu confession. 
“Damn, okay.” You laugh, staring at his bare ass as he runs a lap around the living room stark naked.
“You can’t just— I wanted to say it first!” He pouts before flopping down on top of you.
“Are you serious?” Breathless from his weight, you fail to push him off you as he flails like a fish. “Is that what you’re focusing on?” 
“Yes,” Dokyeom grouches into your cheek. “You’re the first girl I’ve felt this way about and I wanted to
”
He trails off, suddenly embarrassed. Your entire relationship was many of Dokyeom’s firsts. The first person he had sex with, first college girlfriend he told his mom and sister about, and now the first girl to make him truly understand loving another person. It wasn’t something you held over his head, and some of it he didn’t even tell you about but it all tallies up in his mind how unprepared he is for it all. 
“Minnie, look at me.”
You don’t speak again until he finally meets your gaze. 
“I don’t even remember what we were talking about.” You sigh.
Dokyeom doesn’t catch hint, “We were talking about–”
“Nope, can’t seem to recall.” 
Finally, he catches the playful pout and the way your eyes cut back his as you look around the room feigning ignorance. And because he’s Dokyeom and you’re a sucker for anything he does, you can’t stop the smile mirroring his own when softly traces the apple of your cheek with his thumb.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
---
© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.
312 notes · View notes
ghostiexe · 3 months
Text
Teacher!Wilbur x Teacher!Reader Part 2
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
hello friends & merry christmas to those who celebrate! my gift is chapter two of this haha. i might start doing a taglist, so please let me know if you want added!! cw: lots of awkward conversation (not uncomfortable topics wilbur is just shy), wilbur spills boiling hot coffee on his hand, i think that's it!
words: 3,831
also, welcome tommy to the stage everybody :)
part one here
On Monday, you find yourself waking up to the realization that your alarm never went off. A panicked sound slips past your lips, and you practically throw yourself out of bed. 
Okay, yes, a bit dramatic. However, you really don’t want to have to rush to get ready. You ended up having to go home before you were able to finish decorating your room, so you had been hoping to get to the school as early as possible and get it done. 
You start to root through all your clothes, still mildly panicked. You finally find something suitable to wear, shoving it on and glancing yourself up and down in your full length mirror on your closet door. You sigh softly and nod at yourself, a weak attempt to hype yourself up. Then you drag yourself to the bathroom and start to brush your teeth, staring at yourself blankly in the mirror before you lean down, spit out the toothpaste, and hurry to finish the rest of your routine. 
On your way out the front door several minutes later, you adjust your shoulder bag and sigh as you check the time on your phone. You don’t live too far away from the school, only a couple blocks, so you opt to walk. You don’t have a car, anyway– it had broken months ago, and you didn’t have the energy or money to get it looked at. 
So, walking it is. 
It only takes you about five minutes to get to the school, and when you arrive, you rush through the building to your room, shivering slightly from the walk. The school was mostly barren outside of a couple kids who were waiting outside and a few teachers you passed, though you didn’t know them. As you finally make it to your room, you reach for the door until you notice the sound of arguing a couple doors down. 
You probably shouldnt pry, but your curiosity gets the better of you and you slip down to the door, peeking inside to discover Wilbur bickering with some tall blonde kid with curly hair and bright blue eyes. Wilbur is standing with his back turned to the door, trying to hang up a map, while the (presumably) teen boy sits on his dark oak desk and chastises Wilbur on his “horrible placement skills”. You clear your throat and they both turn their attention to you.
The blonde kid just stares at you, but Wilbur smiles. “Oh, hello!” He greets you. You nod, eyes slightly furrowed as you take in his outfit. It’s quite old looking, but it goes perfectly well with his large glasses. 
“You look like you came straight out of the ‘90s.” You say instead of greeting him back, leaning on his doorframe. His face goes a bit pink and the blonde kid laughs loudly. 
“That’s what I told him!” He says gleefully, like he’s just won an argument. Maybe he has. 
Wilbur groans. “Tommy, go find your classes or something.” He grumbles, and you feel a flicker of confusion at the way the two of them interact. “Uh, and who is this, again, Wilbur?” You ask, pushing yourself upright instead of leaning and wandering further into his room. It’s a bit dark, the overhead lights are turned off. Instead, the room is lit by several lamps. You quite like it. 
“Oh.” Wilbur says, gesturing to the blonde kid. “This is my brother, Tommy. He’s 17, I’m technically his legal guardian.” He says, and you nod, not pressing for further information. Tommy chimes in. “I’m actually a very strong man.” He informs you. 
“Oh, I don’t doubt it.” You say with a laugh, starting to take in the rest of Wilbur’s classroom. “It looks nice in here, you’ve done a nice job.” You say, looking over at him. A playful grin spreads across your face. “Mr. Soot.” You add. Wilbur smiles bashfully. 
“Thank you. Tommy hates it.” He says, running a hand through his brown curls. You laugh. 
“Well, I don’t. It’s very cozy.” You say. Tommy groans. “Ugh, who cares about cozy? It needs some spice. Some danger.” Tommy insists, hopping off of Wilbur’s desk and sauntering towards the door. He salutes lazily to the two of you. “Anyway, have fun talking about boring teacher stuff, I’m going to go see if they have breakfast yet.” He says, then promptly walks away, sneakers squeaking as he goes. You and WIlbur both wince at the noise. 
“He does it just to annoy me.” Wilbur informs you as the two of you both stare at where he just walked away. Wilbur’s gaze flickers over to you, and you nod. 
“Little brothers.” You say, looking over and meeting his gaze. Wilbur cracks a small smile. 
“Little brothers.” He agrees. 
– 
Four short (or painfully long, you can’t decide) hours later, it’s finally lunch break, and you immediately slump down onto your desk, groaning as you rest your head against it. Your kids were pretty good, and it was pretty relaxed since it was only the first day, but you’ve already got an itch on which kids will be causing trouble. 
Tommy had ended up in your second period, and to your pleasant surprise, he was actually very enthusiastic about the topics you discussed teaching that year when you went through the class modules and he had very smugly told you to watch out for when he came back for your creative writing class later today. 
You actually quite like Tommy, and his friends. He told you he’s friends with everybody, but you can tell by the way that most kids avoid him that he was just saying that. He does have these two kids that he was talking to, though, a short brown-haired boy and a really (ridiculously) tall boy with a mask. You don’t remember most of the names of the kids in your class, which– yeah, you should probably work on that– but Tommy’s group seemed mostly pleasant, if a bit chaotic. 
Back to the present, you lift your head off of your desk and sigh as you reach for your tupperware with your lunch in it, dragging yourself to the teacher’s lounge to heat up your leftovers from dinner last night. When you get there, you see Wilbur hovering awkwardly by the microwave, posture a bit hunched as a small group of random teachers talk on the other side of the room. 
You walk up to Wilbur and almost tap on his shoulder, but you refrain. You don’t know much about him, after all, he might not be okay with casual touch. Instead, you stand next to him. 
“Hey.” You greet him, and he startles slightly, then his body languish shifts into something softer and less tense when he sees you. He offers you a stilted smile. 
“Oh, hello.” He says, reaching to open the microwave when it beeps. “How has your first day been so far?” He asks, pulling his food out and pushing his glasses up with his opposite hand. You hum as you think of how to word your answer. 
“Good, but exhausting.” You say after a moment, and he laughs softly, looking down at his food. 
“That’s fair. At least you’ve got the upperclassman, yeah?” He asks, stepping away from the microwave and gesturing for you to go ahead. You pop your food in and start it, then turn back to him, clearing your throat. 
“You’re right. Uh, how’s your day going?” You ask, and he cringes. 
“Uhh, I think okay? The kids certainly haven’t forgotten that I’m the boring teacher, though. Um, hopefully I’ll be able to get them interested, though.” He says, tapping his fingers against his food container. Your eyes drift down to them and you notice how calloused they are, but don’t mention it. 
“I’ll manifest it for you.” You say, smiling a little bit, and he laughs a bit breathlessly. 
“Thank you, I appreciate it.” He says, shaking his head and shuffling awkwardly. 
The microwave beeps and you pull your food out, looking up at Wilbur, who’s staring down at his shoes. 
“...Do you want to eat with me?” You ask, breaking the awkward silence. “Okay.” He agrees, looking back at you, then glancing around the teacher’s lounge. “Um, we can eat in my room.” He decides, then his gaze flickers back to you. “If that’s okay.” 
You nod, cracking a smile. “That sounds nice. Thank you.” You tell him, holding your food close to your chest. He smiles back, this time a little less awkwardly, and nods. 
“Okay, then. Um, it should be pretty quiet there. The only kid that really drops by is one of my brother’s friends, but I don’t know if he’ll be doing that a bunch this year.” He explains, and the two of you start the walk to his classroom, holding your respective tupperware containers. 
“Oh? The tall one with the mask, or the really short one? Or are there some other secret friends hiding around the school somewhere?” You ask, since it’s wholly possible that Tommy has more than just two friends. 
“Ah, the tall one.” Wilbur tells you, unlocking his door and holding it open for you. “Thank you.” You say, stepping inside and then letting him usher you over to his desk. He pulls over a comfy looking chair for you and gestures for you to sit, pulling over his own spinny chair to face you. 
The two of you sit, and you tap your fingers awkwardly on the lid of your container. He looks at you, then down to your hands, then he clears his throat and starts to tap his blunt nails against his desk. 
“Well.” He says, like he has something to say, but he doesn’t add anything after that, looking up to stare at you blankly. 
You blink slowly. “Well
” You agree, sitting back in the chair and crossing your legs. 
Wilbur takes the lid off his food and starts to poke at it with a black plastic fork. You set your food down in your lap. 
“The Front Bottoms.” You say, trying to break the silence. He looks up at you, looking mildly bewildered, then huffs out a breathless laugh. 
“What?” He asks, a bit of the tension melting away. You laugh too. 
“Sorry. I just meant
 Um, you like The Front Bottoms. What else do you listen to?” You ask, and he smiles shyly, looking down at his food. 
“Oh, well, I like a little bit of everything.” He says, sounding a bit bashful. 
“Come on, lay it on me.” You say, waving your hand as if to brush off his shyness. “Okay
” He says slowly, clearly trying to think. “Well
 My favorite band is called Los Campesinos!, they’re a seven piece Welsh band.” He explains, pushing his glasses up with one finger. You think it’s adorable. “But I also like Crywank, Arctic Monkeys, um
 The Strokes, american poetry club, Modern Baseball
” He cuts himself off. “Sorry, I’m talking a lot.” He apologizes. 
“No, no, it’s okay! I asked, after all.” You reassure him, reaching over to pat his hand before pulling away and starting to poke at your food with your fork. “I know a couple of those bands, we have similar music tastes.” You say, lifting your fork and covering your mouth with your hand as you chew. 
He smiles at that. “Oh, yay!” He says, clapping his hands lightly. You swallow and smile. “What music do you listen to?” He asks, looking genuinely intrigued. You think for a moment, genuinely drawing a blank. 
“Oh, well, um
” You say, furrowing your eyebrows. He takes a bite of his food. “I- Uh, sorry, I’m not good on the spot.” You apologize, and he shakes his head. 
“No, it’s okay. We can talk about music another time.” He says, leaning back in his chair. “You’re right.” You agree, setting your food down again in your lap. “By the way, what’s with the outfit?” You ask, immediately regretting the way you worded it when he frowns. “I love it! Seriously.” You add hurriedly, reaching over and patting his knee. “Just curious.” 
He shifts slightly when you pat his knee and he crosses his legs, scratching his jaw as he thinks. “Uh, well
 I’m not sure, I just like how it looks.” He says, gesturing to his outfit. “It reminds me of my favorite teacher from when I was in middle school. He was quite old, honestly, but he’s sort of my inspiration for becoming a teacher.” Wilbur explains, a light blush on his face. The soft ‘awww’ slips past your lips before you can stop yourself. “That’s
 actually really sweet.” You say, smiling at him gently. “I kinda just assumed you were into the vintage fashion scene.” You say with a soft giggle. 
“Well,” he says with a short laugh, “that’s also true. I mean, the glasses should make that obvious.” He says, gesturing to his face. 
“Well, it suits you!” You say, smiling. “Seriously, I think you look very handsome.” You tell him, taking another few bites of your food before closing the tupperware and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. He smiles. “Thank you. I’m glad you like it, usually the students just make fun of me and call me old.” He says with a soft laugh. “Well, clearly they have no culture.” You joke, gaze wandering from him to the bookshelf in the corner of his room. “Oh, do you mind if I take a look?” You ask, pointing at it. 
“No, of course I don’t mind.” He says, putting his hands on his knees and standing up. You follow the action, walking with him to the back of the room. “This side is all textbooks,” he explains, gesturing to the right side, “but the other is all books I’ve brought from home for students to borrow.” He says. You nod and trace your finger over the spines of some of the books, glancing across them. 
“I should do that, too.” You say, tilting your head to the side to read some of the titles. He hums. 
“Yeah, you are the English teacher after all. Don’t want to get caught lacking.” He says, and you roll your eyes fondly. 
After a few moments of comfortable silence, he speaks again. “You look nice, too, by the way.” He says. 
You’re confused for a moment. “Huh?” His face goes a bit pink. “You said I look handsome. Um, you look great too. Your style suits you well.” He explains, and it’s suddenly your turn to blush. “Thank you.” You say bashfully, brushing a bit of hair out of your face. “Yeah, of course.” He tells you, reaching to pull a book out of the shelf, but suddenly the bell is ringing. You jump slightly and huff, placing a hand on your chest as your heart races. 
“Fuck, I need to get used to the bell.” You complain under your breath, standing up straight. “Thanks for letting me eat with you, Wilbur, I seriously appreciate it.” You tell him. He nods. “No problem. I wouldn’t mind making it a habit.” He says, smiling at you. “Let me walk you to your classroom.” He tells you.
“And I wouldn’t mind that either.” You agree. “It’s only a few doors down.” You remind him. A couple kids start filing into his class. 
“I know.” He says. “Please?” He gives you his best puppydog eyes and you roll your eyes. 
“Okay, fine.” You relent, and he beams. 
The two of you walk out of his room and he walks on the left side of you as you make your way down the hallway. Once you make it to your door, he opens it for you and you shoot him a grateful smile. 
“Why, thank you, Mr. Soot.” You say, bowing clumsily at him. He giggles. 
“Yeah, yeah. See you later.” He says. 
“See you later.” You agree, nodding and stepping into your class. You sigh as you walk over to your desk, watching the student pile inside. 
Time for your first creative writing class of the semester. 
– 
By the end of the day, you’re absolutely exhausted, and you feel like a mess. You probably look the part, too, seeing as Tommy gives you a weird look when he walks past you later in the hallway on your way to the teacher’s lounge on your prep period. You’ve been in there for probably twenty minutes now, just holding a mug of herbal tea and staring blankly at the floor. The ceramic mug is hot under your hands, a pleasant burn on the pads of your fingers as you space out. 
All in all, not an awful first day, just
 wow, you need to decompress. You’re so thankful that you didn’t assign anything for the first day, God knows you can’t grade right now. You’re mostly alone there until about fifteen minutes until school ends, when Wilbur happens to walk in, bee-lining toward the coffee machine. His sudden entrance makes you snap out of it, and you look up at him, walking as he sighs and waits for the coffee, having not yet noticed you. 
After a minute of watching him in silence, he finally turns, holding his mug of coffee in his hands. Apparently he was not at all expecting anyone else to be in here, because he jolts slightly and a bit of coffee splashes out and all over his hand. He hisses in pain and sets the mug down, and you stand up. 
“Oh, shit.” You say, setting down your own mug and walking over to him, lifting his hand and examining it. You drag him over to the sink and turn on the cold water, guiding his hand under it and holding it there, your own hand also under the water. 
“This is embarrassing.” He mumbles after a moment, then laughs softly. “It’s fine. I’ve spilt boiling water on myself too many times.” You say, trying to console him. He hums in acknowledgement and you blink when you realize that you don’t need to be holding his hand anymore, pulling it away and wiping it off on your shirt. “Uh, you can take your hand out when it feels a bit better.” You tell him, walking over to the small table and grabbing some napkins. After a moment, the water turns off and you turn to hand the napkins to him. He dries off his hand and looks down, crumpling the napkins and tossing them into the trash. “Kobe!” You whisper shout, a habit ingrained into you from hearing teen boys do the exact same thing for years. He giggles and shakes his head, and you gesture for him to show you his hand. He lifts it obediently for you and you examine it before humming thoughtfully to yourself. “It doesn’t look bad, it’s only a first degree burn.” You tell him, letting go of his hand. “I have some lotion, it’ll help.” You say, looking up into his eyes. He nods, smiling shyly. 
“It’s okay, you don’t need to.” He says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Are you sure? It’ll soothe the burn.” You insist. He relents after a moment. 
“Okay. Thank you, I appreciate it.” He tells you, letting you lead him back to your classroom. You hum as you unlock the door and beckon him inside, taking his hand again as you lift your lotion from your desk and take a little bit of it, spreading it gently across his hand. He hums softly as you do so, and after a moment, you let go of his hand and spread the remaining lotion across your own hands. 
“Does that feel any better?” You ask him, and he just looks down at his hand before glancing at you again. “Um, yes, thank you.” He says, smiling shyly. “You’re too kind, really.” 
You both laugh softly and then you brush a bit of hair out of your face. “It’s no problem, Wilbur.” You assure him, smiling softly. “...we’re friends, right?” You ask, a little bit cautious now.
He seems surprised, but nods eagerly. “Yes! Yes, we’re friends.” He says, reaching a hand out to awkwardly pat your shoulder, but it is a bit comforting. You relax. “Okay, cool.” You say. “Cool.” He mimics. “Coooool.” You say, leaning forward slightly and smiling up at him. 
He giggles and tentatively pushes your face away. “No more cool.” He says, trying to sound firm, and you return his giggle. 
“Sorry.” You apologize, straightening up. “I’m glad that you’re my friend.” You say. “You’re pretty cool.” 
“I’m hardly cool.” He scoffs, but he’s smiling widely. “I’m glad you’re my friend, too.” He agrees. 
After you lock up your classroom and the two of you start going back to the teacher’s lounge to take care of both of your mugs. You both work in relative silence, only speaking again once both of you have finished. 
“I hope you don’t mind
” Wilbur says, breaking the silence and glancing over at you. “But is it okay if I could get your phone number or something? Just so we don’t have to only talk at lunch and during our prep periods.” He explains, running a hand through his messy curls. 
You ignore the way you have instant butterflies in your stomach, nodding. “Yeah! Yeah, of course, here, let me get my information pulled up.” You agree, pulling out your phone and smiling giddily to yourself before handing your phone to him. 
“Thank you.” He says, looking a bit flustered as he puts your contact in his phone, then hands your phone back. “Text me so I can save your number, too.” You instruct him, looking down at your phone expectantly. After a moment, a text comes in that simply says ‘hi :)’. 
You smile and send back an enthusiastic ‘hi!!!’ before saving his number as “Mr Soot >:)” 
He giggles when he gets your text, shutting his phone off and putting it in his pocket. The bell rings, and you both look at the door. 
“Well
” WIlbur says. “I look forward to talking to you.” He says, awkwardly extending his arm for a fist bump. You smack your fist against his and then unfurl your fingers as you 
pull your arm away, making an attempt at an exploding sound as you do so. 
“Text me whenever you want.” You tell him with a soft smile as you look up into his eyes. He nods and stuffs his hands into his pockets, smiling back at you. 
“Okay, I will. Thank you again.” He says. “You seem very nice, I’m glad that our rooms are so close.” He says, face tinged a bit pink. 
“I’m glad, too.” You say. 
You definitely don’t spend the rest of your evening at home waiting (im)patiently for him to text you, and you definitely don’t kick your feet and shove your face in a pillow when he finally does.
184 notes · View notes
petpenname · 14 days
Text
❀Red Wine Supernova❀
Tumblr media
pairing: dealer!ellie williams x introverted(f)reader cw. : smoking, drinking summary: modern college au, slow burn with some sad elements, inspired by Red Wine Supernova by Chapel Roan Parts: 1. I Just Want to Get To Know You 2. Mini Skirt and My Go-Go Boots 3. I Don't Care That You're A Stoner + Epilogue: Falling Into Me a/n: bittersweet ending to my first fic đŸ„ș
Part 3
I Don’t Care That You’re a Stoner
The following week was busy. On monday you started a class project worth 40% of your grade and the prep for it was drowning you. On top of your other classes you barely had time for yourself. Which is why you were actually looking forward to tonight. There was another party at House 09 and Sage promised to stay by your side and make tonight worth it. But a certain green eyed girl took up residence in your mind, refusing to vacate. 
On that Friday, in the late afternoon, you were sprawled across Sage’s bed, with her on the floor, passing a joint between you. 
“I don't know dude, we texted for a bit Sunday but I haven't heard from her all week. I didn't even see her in the cafe.” you sigh, pulling out your phone to check the message thread between you and Ellie again. 
“Damn, but she kissed you right?” Sage says from the floor. “That's so weird, maybe she's just busy with school?”
“Yeah maybe, I don't even know what she studies. She's kind of a nerd though, it's cute. She wanted to watch this space movie together.” 
“You should totally invite her over this weekend!” Sage says sitting up right. “Oh my god it would be so cute! And I could buy from her, I'm running low” She giggles, looking down at her close to empty stash jar. 
“You know what, ya! I'm going to text her. I kept waiting for her to text first, I just didn't want to bother her.”
“You aren't going to bother her! Send the text” Sage smiles at you, and puts out the rest of the joint before standing to stretch. 
You organize a text after a few tries: 
Hey Ellie! Want to come over Hiii, when do you want to watch that movie? My place, this weekend. You. me. Space movie y/n: hey ellie hope u r well! Want to watch that movie at my place this weekend?
“Okay I sent it!” you say chucking your phone away from you.
“Good job!” Sage says, giving you a thumbs up. “Now let's start getting ready!”
You shower and do your makeup in Sage’s room with the rest of the girls. Sage had the biggest space and the best lighting which made it the prime spot for your roommates to get ready together. 
Phoebe and Ivy are discussing recent events from a class they share and the drama that went down between a few students. You try your best to focus and be in the moment but each second that goes by without a response makes your heart sink. Memories of the previous weekend flash in your mind. The taste on your lips left by the auburn haired girl disappeared too soon, leaving you wanting more. You didn't want to come on too strong, too forward, worried you would scare Ellie off when you didn't even know what she wanted. You check your phone again, your message was delivered, but not read. Your heart falls a little lower.
“Hellooooooo, y/n” you tune into Olivia's voice calling to you. “You okay? You've been quiet, more than usual” 
“Hmm? ya , sorry, I'm good! I just haven't heard from Ellie all week.” You say with a shrug. You never liked putting your hurt onto others, choosing to brush it off and face it on the inside than over share. 
“Maybe she will be at the party tonight!” Ivy suggests. “Arent her and Dina roommates? And Dina is dating Jessie right? If you see them you could ask them about her?”
“Oh maybe.” The thought of that made your stomach flip. You had never talked to Dina or Jessie and you definitely didn't want to seem like a crazy lover girl. “We will see, can you pass me that eyeshadow Pheebs?”
“Here ya go babe!” Phoebe hands you a green shimmer shade that looks oddly familiar
 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hours later you and Sage are side by side facing down two of the H09 guys in a competitive game of beer pong. Sage and you are surprisingly winning and both are on a high -figuratively and literally. You were actually having a really fun time. You’ve been nursing a hard seltzer since you got there but had indulged with Sage in a few seshes. 
“OHH FUCK YA!” Sage exclaims, landing another shot in a red solo cup.
“Drink up guys!” You say, backing up your roommate's excitement.
“Oh don’t sound so excited! It's my turn next” Says a very confident resident, you think his name is Cole? 
And Cole was right. He ends up sinking each and every one of your remaining cups, securing the boys a win. They celebrate and you all exchange good games.
“Damn dude! You want to redeem ourselves?” Sage says, turning to you with fire in her eyes.
“I'm down in a sec! Gotta go to the bathroom.” You say. “I'll be right back!” 
You leave Sage and navigate through the house. You have to pass through the kitchen and a hallway to get to the bathroom. You move slowly, shifting around drunk bodies left and right. As you pass through the hallway your attention is drawn into the living room where people are dancing. Your eyes land on a familiar figure facing away from you. Tall and lean with her hair half tied up, for some reason you just knew it was Ellie, and it stopped you in your tracks. A rush went through you, she was here! She really was just busy! You start to move towards her until your eyes fall upon someone else. Ellie was talking to a girl in front of her, although you couldn't hear the conversation over the music. The girl had this look in her eye that you recognize all too well. She was swaying back and forth and just the nature of her demeanor told you she was flirting. You were confused, but unable to form a thought long enough before the girl moved her arms to wrap around Ellie’s neck pulling her closer. 
You turn away. Ears ringing, your vision tunneled, you could assume what happened next. Your feet moved without warning, your mind instantly dissociating. You left. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
“What the fuck get off!” Ellie says loudly, pushing off the girl's arms around her. 
“Aww come on don’t be like that El!”
“You said you wanted to buy Cat. You know we’re fucking done.”
“God, ya, my friend did. Whatever, you don't know what you're missing.” 
“Oh I know, lose my number.” 
Ellie storms away, she needs a shot, something to shed the feeling of her ex on her. She had just gotten back to Jackson a few hours ago. Having to go home for a week left many buyers dry so she had her work cut out for her at this party. She just didn’t realize her ex would be here. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Ivy! Ivy, where are you?” Sage shouts through the house, appearing in the kitchen.
“Shit Dude! right here! What?” Ivy sat on the counter, Phoebe next to her cutting limes. 
“Guys have you seen y/n? She said she was going to the bathroom but that was like twenty minutes ago!” Sage looks at her roommates worried.
“Nope, haven't seen her, maybe she just went home?” Phoebe suggests
“She usually does, I'm sure she's fine!” Ivy reassures.
“I don't know guys, she would have texted us! Oh, Ellie!” Sage catches Ellie as she comes in from a sesh in the backyard.
“Hey Sage, you want tobuy–”
“Have you seen y/n??” Sage practically yells at Ellie. 
“What? She’s here?” Ellie looks around in anticipation. You had been on her mind all week. But with other stressful matters at hand she couldn't bring herself to text you when she wasn't feeling her best. Something you two had in common. 
“I mean she was! But i can’t find her and she hasn't texted me, and-” “Wait dont you have her location?” Ivy says through a mouthful of chips
“Oh shit ya!” Sage flicks to your contact, pulling up your location which pings close by, right in

“The forest? What the fuck is she doing in there?” Sage exclaims, turning the phone to show the girls. “Oh my god what the hell i don't even know how to get over there!” 
“Oh fuck,” Ellie says. “I know where she is.” Pheobe, Ivy and Sage all look at Ellie, with equally confused ‘you do?’ looks on their faces. “Do you know why she would be out there?”
“She might have wanted some peace? I'll go get her, I showed her the way.” Ellie says, turning to leave. She felt protective over you, she had no idea why you were out there but she knew she had to get to you.
“Want us to come?” Sage says, moving with Ellie
“Nah it's okay, I need to talk to her anyway
 uh i'll text you when I find her okay?” Ellie says, reassuring Sage. 
“Okay you fucking better Williams” Sage says before letting Ellie run out the house. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cold from the concrete crept up your thighs while the liquor burned in your throat. You didn't know how long you had been out here but tears pooled stains on your jeans and a half drunk bottle of tequila kept you company. You must have grabbed it on your way out. You weren't sure, you weren’t focusing on anything right now in attempts to keep images of arms wrapped around her strong frame out of your mind. Only the sound of your sniffles and the creek beneath you rang through the forest. 
*Crack*
You instantly perked up, attention drawn. Through the buzz your mind formed a realization. You were out in these woods alone, at night, and more than under the influence. 
*crack*CRACK*
You stand up, almost tripping, straining your eyes to see in the darkness for any sign of movement. Your eyes catch light fumbling through the brush, a flashlight?
The light gets closer and you hear footsteps over the soft ground. “y/n? Are you over here?”
A voice you longed to hear, a siren in the night, it caught you off guard and you were silent for a second before speaking.
“El.. Ellie?” You say between sniffles and hiccups” 
  “Oh my god, y/n! Thank god, everyone was looking for you
 hey what's wrong?” Ellie approaches you, noticing the bottle of liquor in your hands, your unstable movements and the tears drawing mascara down your cheeks. 
Arms wrap around Ellies neck in your mind, you see her kissing another girl, your heart ignites on fire. 
“No. no i'm fine. I was just leaving.” You say trying to compose yourself. You suddenly felt embarrassed of your state, not wanting Ellie to see you like this and in no mood to talk to her. You take a step forward trying to move around Ellie but end up tripping, falling right into her.
“Hey how much have you had to drink? We should get you home.” Ellie stabilizes you, then pulls your chin up so you're looking at her. “Why are you crying baby?”
You jerk your head away from her hand, the liquor fueling a wound within you that too many have deepend. “I-donneed to tell u anythin! *hiccup* Why don’t you jus go back tothe party? Just leave me be like they all do.” You turn away from her, taking another swig of liquor. 
Ellie grabs the bottle from your lips, “i don't think you need any more of that come on you're not making any sense.”
“OH i'm not making sense? What about you!?” Your last conscious brain cells form a coherent thought as everything you wanted to say comes out at once. 
“I thought you were so sweet when you brought me here and kissed me but then you didn’t talk to me all week and when i do see you you’re kissing some other girl and i don even know why i try anymore-”
“Wait, wait what” Ellie tries to slow your ramble.
“because no one actually wants to be with me-”
“Y/N!” Ellie shouts. Not angrily, more stern, but it shuts you up.
“I haven't kissed anyone tonight, what are you talking about?” Ellie looks genuinely confused, and worried at your sudden outburst. 
“Don lie! I saw you with that girl in the living room. She had her hands all over you.” You couldn't bring yourself to look her in the eyes, as tears started flowing again. 
“Oh my.. fuck..” shes says under her breath. Ellie was pissed off at her ex for causing her more problems. “Y/N, listen to me. That was my ex, she told me she wanted to buy but I should have known better. I pushed her off of me and definitely didn't kiss her. Trust me I have no intentions on getting back with her.”
Your mind takes a second to process this information, through sniffles and tears you come to realize what Ellie is saying. “Oh my god,... im so fucking stupid” you say, bending down into a small ball. Now you really just wanted to disappear. You hadn't talked to this girl for more than three days and you were already making assumptions and being heartbroken over nothing?!
“Hey no you’re not!” Ellie crouches down next to you, rubbing your back. “I'm sorry you had to see that, I wish I knew you would have been there tonight, we could have gone together.” “You could have texted me back
” you say, collecting yourself a little more.
“I know.. I know I should have. I'm sorry, I was just dealing with a lot this week and I honestly didn't expect you to be here tonight. I just wanted to sell and go home.”
You stay silent, not really knowing how to move forward with the conversation. You were uncomfortable sharing so much emotion to someone you just met but at the same time you wanted to be close to Ellie. A shiver goes down your spine, and your teeth chatter a bit as a breeze blows by.
“You cold hun? Here take my jacket” Ellie stands, removing her hoodie and putting it around you. “Why don’t we go back to the house? We could just talk and sit for a bit? Warm up?” You nod, accepting Ellies hand to help you up and guide you out of the forest. On the walk back Ellie texts Sage that she found you, letting her know she's bringing you home and staying with you for a bit.
You walk back in silence, hand in hand, tension brewing as you and Ellie both run circles in each other's minds. You unlock the door to your house and let Ellie in. Too faded to care that much you lead her up the stairs and into your room. You toss your bag and shoes in the corner, grab your blanket and wrap yourself in it before sitting on your bed, back against the wall. Facing a very awkward Ellie, standing in one place looking everywhere but you. She didn't exactly expect to be in your room tonight. 
“Can you take your shoes off?” You ask, breaking the silence. “You can also come sit over here if you want.” you pat the space on the bed next to you. 
“Ohshitya! Sorry
” Ellie says, fumbling to take her shoes and jacket off. It takes her a sec to untie her dirty converse, she slips them off, crosses the room then settles herself down next to you. You are both a jumble of nerves and anxieties colliding together as you speak over each other. 
“So-” ellie starts
“I Invited-” you say
“Oh, shit”
“No sorry- you go ahead”
Ellie takes a breath. “I'm sorry I didn't text you this week. I had to go back home, my dad got hurt and needed someone to watch over him.”
“Oh, shit is he okay?” You say, cursing yourself for thinking worse of the poor girl.
“Yeah! Yeah he’s good now, had to go to the hospital but he's feeling a lot better.” Ellie says, a smile of relief on her face.
“That's good, I'm glad to hear Ellie.” You take a moment to formulate your thoughts before continuing. “I'm sorry for being a lot
 I didn't mean to scare anyone.  I just, well I wasn't thinking really..”
“Hey, it's okay.” Ellie moves to put a hand on your leg, “you're not a lot, and plus, i can handle it.” She winks at you, lightening the mood a little, allowing you to stifle a laugh.
“So does this mean you accept my movie invite?.” you ask.
“Well I'm already here huh babe?” Ellie says, rubbing circles on your thigh.
You look down at her hand. You loved it when she called you those names but you still didn't know where you were at with her. 
“Ellie?” 
“Yeah?”
“What are we?” 
A beat goes by and Ellie gives you a funny look before you realize how cringey you must have sounded.
“Oh fuck did i really just say that? God we do not have to have the "what are we" conversation, forget I said anything.” you cover your face in embarrassment. 
Ellie laughs, your embarrassment even cuter to her because of the context. “I dont know y/n what do you want us to be?”
You pause for a moment before peaking out from behind your hands. Ellie is looking at you with such a sweet expression, you can see the love in her eyes. Your ears get hot and your face gets red, forcing you back behind your arm-wall of protection. “Oh god,” you sigh at yourself for getting you into this. Which is exactly where you wanted to be really - Ellie Williams is in your BED!!! Why was it so hard to face what you wanted? 
“You know
” Ellie says. “I was going to wait until it was like an appropriate time but it seems you forced my hand” she teases. “y/n?”
“Hmmm?” you say from your cocoon
“Will you look at me, pretty girl?”
Your stomach flips and despite the heat rising in your body you will yourself to look at Ellie.
Eye contact that could last a lifetime. You flick back and forth between her eyes, taking in her whole appearance. Your room was lit with a few lamps and salt lamps casting an orange hue on the both of you. You were inches away from each other, the energy swirling between you, anticipating connection. 
 “y/n, would you like to be my girlfriend?” Ellie asks, holding her breath and searching for a response.
You blink, forcing your mind to make quick understanding of her ask.
“Girlfriend?” you say, half in shock, half making sure you heard her right.
“Girlfriend.” Ellie says, bringing her hand to your cheek.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Aw shit wait!” Ellie pauses the movie right before the opening credits start.
“Babeeee come on! What did you forget now?”
“Y/n, i am so sorry, but there is no way I can watch a movie about space without being in space.” You both laugh at her stupid joke.
“Ellie, I don't care that you’re a stoner. You just have to share! Girlfriend rules!” You say jumping up from the bed.
“My girl always smokes for free,” Ellie says, sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling you in between her legs to kiss you.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Epilogue
Falling Into Me
“I found the umbrella!” Ivy shouts into the house
“Okay I got sunscreen, towels, uhh food, water, weed hehe” Sage is standing by the door surveying the group's bags.
“We’ll start packing the cars” Phoebe says, Daniel next to her grabbing the cooler.
“y/n! Ellie! Let's go!” Olivia yells up the stairs. 
—--------------
“How do I look babe?”
“Holy shiit
.” Ellie turns around to look at you modeling a new bathing suit. You’re in your room, the sun illuminating your frame and dancing in Ellie's eyes. “I need you
 like right now”
You hear Olivia call up the stairs. “Well you gotta wait, you'll just have to eye fuck me all day.” you say with a giggle. The way that Ellie appreciates you in every way has made your confidence skyrocket. You had come out of your shell to her more in the past two months than you have with anyone. It wasn't surprising though. Sage had said with the way that you two look at eachother, it's like you had been searching your whole lives and finally found each other.  
“Fuck youre such a tease” Ellie says grabbing at you with needy hands and soft kisses on your neck.
“Mmm common Ellie we gotta go-AA!” You feel sharp fangs in place of her kisses. Ellie bites you a little harder than she thought, pulling away with the goofiest grin, looking so proud of herself. 
“Did you just put your canine teeth in the side of my neck!?” You ask, looking at her in shock.
“Yep!” Ellie says, still smiling, she grabs your chin and tilts your head so she can see her dirty work. “Oh shit..” Ellies face turns to shock as she tries not to laugh, amused with herself.
“Babe.. whaaat” You say, releasing from her grasp and going over to your mirror. There on the side of your neck you see small indents in your skin from where she bit you. In the same reflection you see Ellie behind you, unable to control her laughter now at the situation. 
“I marked you babe!” She laughs, standing in the sunlight, wearing a pair of swim trunks, an old t-shirt, bucket hat and crocks. Summer had come fast bringing heat and passion as your relationship with Ellie bloomed. 
You stood there half in shock, half in awe at your life now. Looking at the girl you were so happy to call yours. Memories of the past two months cycled through your mind. Your late night movie dates, studying in the cafe together, sitting at what you now consider ‘our spot’ in the woods, talking endlessly with each other. You turn back to your girl, lunging playfully at her, falling into her.
“You come here now! I have to mark you too!”
------------------------------------------------------------------------
taglist: @vqxen @bready101 @sourgummywormsss @a-little-bit-of-everybody @shewantstoknow @liasxeatt @onlinelesbo
122 notes · View notes
k-hotchoisan · 4 months
Note
heyy! congratulations on 500 đŸ©· c-could you maybe do number 6 of your list with jongho's nudes? 😳 damn I'd give my vacant womb to see him naked everyday. just the thought of him being all contained and uptight in public but being a pervert in reality makes me want to scream
Tumblr media
6. Receive nudes from Jongho everyday or Call sex with Yeosang every week?
CRAZY THING TO SAY BABE NGL IT MADE ME LAUGH A LITTLE đŸ˜­đŸ€šđŸ» OKAY OKAY HERES ONE FOR YOU
Tumblr media
Jongho loves sending his pretty selfies to you. He also likes making sure you’re flustered by his cock.
Warnings: nudes, suggestive, Jongho’s dick, perv!jongho, sexting(kind of??), mentioned breeding kink and cream pies
Tag list:
@bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies
K’s 500 this or that: Master list here!
Tumblr media
Monday
Your phone pings.
[đŸ»â€ïž] sent you a message.
You glance over, the face recognition mechanism on your phone activates, and you see a message sent from Jongho.
You are clearing up the remnants of your work as you and your idol boyfriend are adjusting with his busy schedule.
The app switches over to your messaging account, where you and Jongho’s chat takes the whole of the screen, at where the both of you left off. He sent you a zoomed in photo of his face with his adorable pout, his puffy cheeks being eventuated. You giggle at how cute he is, and you begin typing a reply, that is, until another picture that’s blurred under the spoiler function and your breath is caught in your throat.
It’s a mirror selfie of Jongho in the gym, seated on the benches of the locker room, in a tight tank top which was hiked up past his broad chest, dabbing his sweaty chin, his tits in full view, and the one that takes middle stage—the obvious erection that presses teasingly against his thin gym shorts as his legs are spread wide open.
[đŸ»â€ïž] endorphins kicked in a little too hard today~
Your thumbs are paused in mid-air trying to think of a reply to him, the only thing in your mind was the way his erection was there. You force yourself not to think about it, of course, failing miserably.
Tuesday
[đŸ»â€ïž] sent you a message.
[đŸ»â€ïž] I hope work is treating you well, honey~
You giggle at the message. Your attention right back at your partner’s message in the midst of work. You are about to reply him with another flirty message when another spoiler-covered photo pops into the chat.
[đŸ»â€ïž] here’s something sweet.
You hesitate for a moment. But it falters quickly when you remember that you’re working remotely anyway. So you think, fuck it, and press the hidden photo.
Oh gods.
Another mirror selfie. But this time, he’s only in a pair of white boxers, his thick erection clear as day imprinting onto the sheer fabric. You swear you see a small wet patch if you squinted hard enough. He’s in a black shirt this time, and it frames his biceps so well. His bangs almost hides his small, pretty eyes and his smile is half hidden by his phone as the white sheets below him are crumpled.
You’re wondering how far he’s going to go with this.
Wednesday
[đŸ»â€ïž] sent you a message.
You bite you lip. Out of all times, when you’re in a work meeting. But the static animation of the spoiler fuzzes onto your screen, tempting you. You shut your eyes to put your phone down, that is, until;
[đŸ»â€ïž] I bought a new pair of shorts today for gym. They said to wear loose shorts if your thighs are thick đŸ€”
And there goes all your self control as your thumb immediately slides over to the spoiler, and you fucking wished you didn’t—especially in the middle of a meeting.
It’s a mirror selfie, again, but it’s zoomed in to his lower abdomen. Yes, the shorts are definitely fucking loose.
The openings are loose despite his thick thighs taking up so much leg space of the opening, and you fucking see it. Jongho wasn’t wearing underwear, and his shorts are deliberately hiked up to his inner thigh.
The angle is low enough that you see his cockhead peaking out from the shorts opening, resting on his inner left thigh, leaking precum, and making another bulge against the fabric.
“Y/n? Anything else you wanna add to the work flow?” Your colleague asks, snapping you out of the trance.
“N-no. I think that’s all from my side”, you reply hastily, unintentionally pressing your thighs together.
Thursday
It was getting absolutely ridiculous at this point. Jongho has been teasing you for the past few days and it has only been escalating from there. You know he’s coming over on Saturday anyway since he finally has the time, and it’s making your heart pound.
[đŸ»â€ïž] sent you a message.
You don’t even hesitate at this point—your reaction is automatic, immediately swiping up to Jongho’s notification to check what he sent you.
Sure enough, another spoiler message. You take a quick breather, and brace yourself before you do it.
And the wind gets completely knocked out of you.
Again, a mirror selfie, but he’s fully, fuckin nude. You see the full glory of him—his broad chest and shoulders, his perky nipples, chiseled abdomen all for view for a good second before your eyes land on his fully bare, erected dick.
Jongho is posed with his knee up, propped onto the bed, the bedsheets all over the bed again. He has a towel draped over his shoulders, his biceps are flexed from holding his body up as his thigh holds his other arm up to take the selfie. His hair is messy and damp—he probably took this after a shower.
You can’t help but stare at the way his thighs look so inviting, and it naturally leads you gaze right back to his cock once more—a gorgeous shade of pink at the tip, with his pretty veins running down his shaft. You swear you see it twitch even if it was just a photo.
You could only imagine how his cock would rearrange your guts every time he fucks into you, filled up all the way until your mind breaks, over and over again.
[đŸ»â€ïž] weather’s been a little warm recently. There’s another warm place my cock definitely loves. I think you know where.
Friday
[đŸ»â€ïž] sent you a message.
The worst out of the lot. The only saving grace was that his message came after work. You don’t know what else he could have sent you now, and almost nothing prepared you for it.
[đŸ»â€ïž] shit, I got too excited thinking about you.
You swallow hard when you open the photo. You expect another mirror selfie, but it’s not.
The photo is taken from the front facing camera, and it’s positioned right at his crotch. Jongho has his fat, wet cock in his hands, and thick cum is leaking out of his tip, covering the majority of his cock and his fingers.
Okay. Two can play that perverted game. You don’t send him a photo—you send him a short video. Your camera is front facing, and it’s positioned right at the angle where he can see your pussy in clear view. You’re fully nude, your tits out in the open, so are your legs as you tug your soaked cunt open, letting the lights in your room emphasise how much slick has leaked out of your neglected pussy.
And you hit send. It’s silent for a good minute.
[đŸ»â€ïž] sent you a message.
[đŸ»â€ïž] I’m gonna fucking breed you so fucking full tomorrow, I swear.
Saturday
[đŸ»â€ïž] sent you a message.
It’s a photo of your poor abused cunt, wet with slick and his cum glistening all over your inner thighs. Jongho’s cum is leaking out of your hole, his previous loads fucked into you have evidently soiled the bedsheets beneath you.
353 notes · View notes
lilsedge · 11 months
Text
The Judgement Day’s Girl
(This chapter part is going to be a little long as I really detailed a match)
Tumblr media
Part 2
September 7, 2022
Y/N is at home well her parents home. Edge is taking it easy on his knee like the doctor said and Beth is making supper. Lyric and Ruby have managed to get Y/N to play dolls with them, so there was a lot of giggling going on.
“Guys, supper is ready,” Beth yells. The two younger girls go running to the table with Y/N walking behind. She hears her dad call for her, “Y/N, sweetie come help your old dad get up”.
She chuckles at the old dad part. The girl makes her way to the couch to help her old dad get up. Edge gets up with a groan. “Are you sure the medical team said you’re able to wrestle on Monday,” she questions as they walk to the table.
“Well they said to take it easy and there is a large chance I could get cleared for wrestling on Monday,” He replies.
They got to the table and saw Beth made stew. The younger girls were just enjoying the stew. Ruby had some dribbling down her face. Y/N giggles as she wipes her littlest sisters face. The Copeland family ate supper with lots of laughs, giggles and smiles.
“That was amazing mom thank you,” Y/N spoke up as everyone was finishes up.
“ You’re welcome,” Beth smiles, “I’m glad you liked it.”
Y/N helps her stepmom with the dishes and cleaning up. While Edge and the little girls cuddle up on the couch watching a show. The step mom and step daughter duo join them on the couch after cleaning up. It was like that for the rest of the night until everyone decided to go to sleep.
September 11, 2023
The night before raw
It was that time again the night before raw. Y/N and Edge were laying on the same bed just scrolling through their phones. Y/N spoke up, “Dad, I’m going to the gym. Do you want to come with?”
“I’m okay sweetie, you go ahead,” he replies.
Y/N nods and goes to get in some gym gear. She says a quick bye to her dad. The girl uses her room key to get into the gym. She sees lots of wrestlers there. Just her luck the judgement day is also there.
Y/N tries to be sneaky to avoid them, but Damian notices her and informs the others. They all look at her and don’t go up to her or anything. So she thinks it’s safe to start her workout.
Halfway through her workout she decides she wants to squat. Y/N sets up every thing and starts her squats. That was until she felt someone behind her, spotting her. Y/N jumped a bit. She heard familiar chuckle. It was an Australian woman with dark hair. It was Rhea Ripley.
“Why you jumping darling, It’s just me,” says Rhea
Y/N put the barbell back. Moves around the dark haired girl. Goes to take her weights off the barbell when Finn steps in-front of her. Y/N sighs growing frustrated as she just wanted to get back to her hotel room.
“You want to leave us already sweetie,” Finn smiles
Y/N shocks herself, “don’t call me that”. That was what her mom and dad call her. She doesn’t want anyone else to take that name. The judgement day, just looks at her, not saying anything. Y/N just pushes her way past Finn Bálor. Puts her stuff away and leaves the hotel gym.
She doesn’t take the elevator knowing it will slow her down and it would also give the judgement day easier access to her. Y/N runs up the stairs and quickly gets into her shared hotel room with her dad. As soon as she closes the door she slides down it.
“Sweetie, hey are you okay?” Her dad questions.
He looks at her with concern until he clues in. Edge knew about the judgement day basically torturing her ever since Finn had joined. He helps his daughter up pushes her to the bathroom. Goes to her bag and gets her some pjs. Y/N gets the memo and takes a shower. After her shower she laid in her dads bed hoping that she would be able to fall asleep without any trouble.
Monday night raw
The first part of the day consisted of getting everything you need for raw tonight into a bag so you could bring it to the performance centre. The father daughter duo made their way to the performance centre about 2 hours before the show started mainly because Edge loves to talk and people love to talk to him.Y/N just takes a while to get ready because she dawdles.
Her gear always had to match her fathers. That’s how the creative team wanted it. So the pants were white and black similar to her dad’s and she also had a black shirt to match with the pants. Y/N ran to her dad to show him her ring fit.
“Y/N sweetie,” Edge starts, “you’re missing a part of it.”
“What I’m I missing”
Edge pulls out one of his leather jackets and hands it to her, “here your missing this”
Y/N laughs as she puts it on. The two of them stretch and talk together before Edges match.
“Hey, you two are up in two,” says a crew member. Edge starts walking to the gorilla with his daughter close behind him. Y/N jumps up and down to get her energy going.
You think you know me

Edge runs out first then Y/N does. Y/N chuckles as Edge runs to each side of the crowd. Then Edge starts to walk down the ramp. Does he thing (idk what it’s called) his daughter walking close behind him. Edge runs into the ring going under the rope like he always does. Y/N decides to take the steel stairs. Her father stands on the turnbuckles and ropes.
Mysterio
.
Dominik comes out with Rhea. They slowly make their way to the ring. Dominik starts walking up the steps and Rhea doesn’t follow. So Y/N decides to hop out of the ring.
The bell rings Edge goes straight for Dominik. Pushing him making his back hit the turnbuckle. Edge then grabs Dominik’s hair and head-buts him. Edge currently has an upper hand in the match.
After a few more hits, a kick to the face and getting slammed on his back. Dominik slides out of the ring to Rhea. Y/N is looking up at her dad with a huge smile on her face. Dominik then gets back in the ring. Edge tries to slam him on his back again but Dominik manages to get out of it. Dominik then pushes Edge into the rope but Edge hangs on while Dom falls back.
After Dominik gets up Edge clothesline him. Dominik is then on his hands and knees, so Edge takes advantage of that and drop kicks him out the ring. Y/N giggles at the sight of that. Edge gets out the ring and brings Dominik to a barricade slams his head into it.
Edge then rolls back into the ring to stop the 10 count. Gets out again bringing Dominik to another barricade and doing the same thing. Edge stops at his daughter for a quick second gives her a kiss on the cheek then continues to beat Dominik up.
The boy gets his head slammed into the announcers table. Edge takes the stuff off the table excepting to get Dominik up on the table, but dom starts to fight back. After taking a few punches Edge sent Dominik into the steel steps.
Y/N chuckles as Dom pleads to her father. Her dad just mocks Dominik and kicks him in the face. Edge throws Dominik back into the ring. He gets up on the apron, but as soon as he does that Rhea takes out his knee sending him to the floor.
Y/N goes to do something to help her father, but, Rhea just sends her a kiss making Y/N freeze. Dominik then gets out of the ring as Edge tries to hobble somewhere and pushes him into the stairs. Y/N’s father is now on the ground holding his knee groaning in pain.
Y/N turned her back to them because her father would yell at her if she interfered and got hurt. She turns back around when she hears the two are back in the ring. Dominik is stomping on the injured knee. Dom grabs Edge bringing him to his knees just to hit him in the face.
Dominik got smart and started focusing more on the injured knee of Edges’. Putting more pressure on it. Y/N leans on the apron praying her father can get strength a fight back in some way. Edge kicked dominik but his fight didn’t last long as Dominik suplex’s him 3 times.
Dominik then climbs up on top of a turnbuckle, but Edge hits the top rope making Dom fall and hit his nuts. That gives Edge a little bit of dominance for a quick second giving dominik head but after head but. Edge was going to suplex dominik off the top rope, but Rhea holds on to Dominik. Y/N wants to yell at the ref. Though her father might get mad so she doesn’t do it.
Dominik jumps off the top rope preforming a frog splash on edge. Pins him. Edge kicks out at two. Dom goes to ware out Edges knee even more, but edge kicks him so he collides with the ring post. There’s a moment that basically lets everyone have a breather. That’s when Y/N starts encouraging her dad.
“You got this dad,” she yells to him. He just nods at her. Edge is taking advantage of Dominik’s hazy mind and goes for a pin. Kick out at two. Dom now pounding away on Edges knee. A kick to the face and a ddt delivered by edge who is still managing to fight in this match.
The father gets back on his feet as the crowd cheers for him. Edge was going for a spear but dominik slid under his legs getting on to the older man’s back and pulling back on Edges knee. Dominik pulling edge further from the rope does it again. All Y/N could focus on was her fathers screams of agony.
Y/N thought her father was going to tap. He doesn’t he pushes his way up. Putting Dominik in a pin. Dom kicked out at two. Edge then puts Dominik so that his arms are being held by the ropes. Edge giving the younger boy five blows to the head before the ref pushes him away. Edge goes back to dom giving him six more blows to the head. Edge was going to spear dominik.
Rey shows up. Y/N looks at her uncle with complete confusion. Why is he still protecting Dominik? Edge and Rey push each other back and forth before Priest comes grabs Rey’s ankle pulling him out of the ring. While Edge was distracted Finn comes in takes out his knee as Rhea takes Dom out of the ropes.
“No,” Y/N yells in frustration.
The bells ring signalling that the match is over. Finn starts beating on Y/N’s father. Edge fights back. It doesn’t take long before the eradicator joins in. Damian is making his way up the steel steps close to Y/N before grabbing her and forcing her up the stairs with him. She squeals and tries to fight her way out of his grip. It’s no use he is stronger than she is.
The judgement day is forcing her to watch her father get beat. There are tears threatening to leave her eyes as she could see her father in pain. They let the girl go as they set up Edge’s knee on a chair for Finn the jump on. As soon as he jumps on the leg. Y/N crawls over to her father quick in fear. He was screaming in pain. She looks up at the judgement day as they smile for the pain they’ve caused him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That was part 2 hope you enjoyed it. I certainly enjoyed writing it. It made me think how hard it was to describe matches and also how I want to go into detail. I also realized a used a word in here way to much. I have a request to do then I will work on part 3. Hope you have a great day afternoon or night.
419 notes · View notes
sugarandspisces-writes · 10 months
Text
Dating Melissa Schemmenti Pt. I
Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x reader
Summary: Just a few sweet scenarios outlining what it would be like to date Melissa.
Word Count: 1.5k
A/N: Hello! This is my first time writing for Melissa. Hopefully you enjoy. Let me know if you'd like a part 2!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Early Mornings
For Melissa, teaching at a school came with the joy of waking up bright and early. Some days she even had to be awake before the sun came up. How she dreaded those days. While she enjoyed the days she was able to sleep in, she had become accustomed to being an early riser, so it didn’t bother her too much.
You, on the other hand, were not an early bird. No one could pay you to be up and out before 10 AM. Well, someone could pay you, but the price had to be right. You only woke up early if you absolutely had to, or if it was beneficial for your well-being.
So, when Melissa's alarm goes off at 6 o’clock sharp every morning, Monday through Friday, you do not appreciate it. At all. As a result, you always tried to keep her in bed for as long as you possibly could.
Your mornings usually went a little something like this: 
She’d wake up and press little kisses to the back of your neck while wrapping her arms tight around your waist. This was her signal to you that she wasn’t fully awake, but she was getting there. Due to this, you knew you had at least a few more minutes left with her. Once her second alarm went off, or her third depending on the day, she’d attempt to untangle her limbs from yours. This would lead you to let out a groan of disapproval. You would muster the energy to hold onto her tighter, in hopes that she’d stay in bed just a little bit longer. “Mmm,” she’d hum at the feeling. “I gotta get up, hon.” She would say in her raspy morning voice. “I know, but you’re so warm.” You’d whine as you tried to nuzzle further into her. “I'm sorry,” she’d say before placing a couple of kisses on your cheek. “Can’t be late.”  She would give you one last squeeze which was followed by her getting out of bed.
You’d lay in bed for a few more minutes while listening to her move around the room as she got ready for the day. Eventually, you would get up by the time she made her way to the kitchen. You’d complete your morning routine while she made her coffee and you usually made it to the kitchen in time before she left. She’d greet you with a hug and a kiss and if you were lucky, you’d be able to sneak a couple sips of her coffee before she noticed (by the way, she definitely noticed, but she never said anything). You always gave each other another hug, a couple kisses, and an exchange of sweet words to get each other through the day before parting ways. Your little ritual always left you feeling overwhelmed with love — in the best way possible, of course. You’d wake up early for her any day of the week. She always made it worth your while.
Lots of Affection
When you first met Melissa, you didn’t suspect that she would be as affectionate as she was. Due to her tough exterior, she often came across as standoffish and impersonal to those who didn’t know her. However, if you took the time to get to know her, you’d see that she was pleasant to be around. She didn’t confide in just anyone, and you had to prove yourself if you wanted to gain her trust. If she trusted you, you were special. You considered yourself extra special because she trusted you enough to let you see her soft side. At first, you were only allowed to catch little glimpses into the sweeter side of her. You knew she wouldn’t shed the hard exterior all at once, but she could only hold out on you for so long. Absolutely nothing compared to her affection, and she surpassed every expectation that you had for her.
In the beginning, she only seemed comfortable with light touches. She would brush her hand against yours whenever you handed something to her, or she’d give you a pat on the back and let her hand rest there for a moment before retreating. To her, there was something special about the intimacy of feeling the weight of a lingering touch, even after it went away. Most of the time, she would catch you off-guard with these gestures. She enjoyed seeing the (not so) subtle ways in which you reacted. It amused her to watch your poor attempts at holding back a smile or pretending you weren’t slightly flustered.
Over time, light touches progressed to more grand gestures like hand-holding, kissing, and cuddling. Holding hands was such a simple form of affection, but you both loved it. She wasn’t a big fan of PDA, but holding hands was an exception. It was a silent way of saying “I’m here” or “I’ve got you”. If she ever got worked up over a situation, you’d reach for her hand because you knew it instantly calmed her. You would intertwine your fingers with hers and it was almost like an automatic reset would occur. She often said she felt like her hands were made to hold yours, and you thought that was the sweetest thing you’d ever heard. 
Cuddling was your personal favorite pastime. There was something truly satisfying about being wrapped up in Melissa’s arms. In your mind, nothing compared to the genuine safety you felt whenever she held you. You were known to snuggle up with her at any given moment, and she would always allow you to seek comfort from her. Initially, Melissa wasn’t too fond of cuddling. Even though she loved physical touch, she always complained that it made her way too hot. That was until she realized how much she enjoyed cuddling with you. She found that her favorite thing to do (especially after a rough day) was to come home and have you curl up in her arms. She loved having you sit with your back to her chest and her chin resting in the curve of your neck, so she could place kisses along your jawline. She would debrief you about the events of her day and no matter how good or bad things had gone, her only focus in those moments was you.
Kissing Melissa was an experience that you could only categorize, for lack of a better term, as magical. She was never hesitant to kiss you, and she didn’t have a preference. It didn’t matter to her if it was a kiss on the lips, your cheek, your neck, your nose, or your entire face. Either way, she was going to give you all the kisses. Your favorite types of kisses were the passionate ones that left you both breathless. 
“Why are you looking at me like that?” You’d ask with a nervous laugh as you glanced up at her. You could feel her intense gaze on you from all the way across the room. She’d steadily walk over to you and stand impossibly close. So close that you could feel the warmth from every breath she took. So close that you could see every line on her face and every eyelash on her eyes as she peered into yours. Your breath would catch in your throat as her hand came around to rest on the small of your back to close any gaps between the two of you. She’d lean in and brush her lips against yours, not quite touching them together. Just enough to leave you wanting more. “‘Cause I really wanna kiss you right now.” She’d say against your mouth before her lips widened into a smile. “Then kiss me.” You’d say, smiling back at her. Her pillow-soft lips would come into contact with yours, making your eyelids flutter closed. The kiss would be gentle, yet filled with so much passion that it almost made you want to cry.
Pet Names
Melissa was known for dropping the occasional “hon” in casual conversations. That word was naturally part of her dialect, but she used it a little differently when it came to you. You found that her tone was lighter and the look in her eyes was softer whenever she called you cute names. She knew what you liked to be called, and she always knew what to say, and do, to make you feel special.
“Hey, hon.” She’d say as she greeted you in the evenings after work. She would envelop you in a hug and speak the words softly into your ear.  “Thank you, sweetheart.” Was her reply when you complimented her hair and makeup or her outfit. Your words would leave her with a smile that reached her eyes and in return, she would cup her hand against your cheek and give you a kiss. “What’s the matter, gorgeous?” The question would hang in the air for a few moments as you tried to string an answer together. You’d look up to find her already gazing at you intently with her chin resting in her palms. Green eyes staring back at yours saying every emotion her mouth wasn’t. She’d bring one of her hands down and reach out to grab yours. You’d meet her halfway and once she grasped you, she would glide her thumb across the back of your hand and give you a light squeeze letting you know your feelings were safe with her.
358 notes · View notes
wazzi2ya · 1 month
Text
This was supposed to be short, and it turned into...lemme get a word counter here...2k+ words.
Managed to get something done from this post, so here we go. Let's hope I can keep the streak up but tbh I start work on monday so who knows lmao.
Anyway here goes:
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The princess had invited everyone out for dinner. One of those ritzy places only Overlords and higher ranking demons like the Deadly Sins and Ars Goetia were allowed to even approach.
Husk had been to one, exactly once, when he was in his full power. He'd been invited by the Von Eldritch patriarch to talk business. He'd been impressed by Husk's main casino and wanted to invest in a new one near his own territory.
He'd never finished closing the deal, as the high of overconfidence the proposition gave him had led him to go on a betting spree. Now, he wasn't the Gambling Demon for nothing. He'd won every game that week, big or small.
Up until Alastor showed up, and the rest was history.
"Motherfucker cheated me in my own game." Husk grumbled under his breath, finishing fixing his tie in front of the mirror. He'd chosen to forgo the usual bow-tie in favor of something half the hotel wouldn't be wearing, for once. He wasn't exactly happy with it, though. The half-Windsor knot was relatively easy, but his huge paws and claws were not cooperating. It lay a bit crooked, not enough to be glaringly noticeable, but anyone experienced could see it a mile away.
Giving up, and thinking Charlie should be glad he's wearing a shirt at all with how much trouble he went through finding something that fit his wings, he opted to grab his dark grey jacket and wait for everyone else at the lobby.
On his way down, he passed by Angel's room, the bright pink hearts adorning it hurting his sensitive eyes. He tried to hurry past to avoid getting the neon shapes burned into his retina, when he heard something crashing into the floor from inside the room, followed by loud cursing and the squealing of Fat Nuggets.
Husk usually minded his own business, but knowing Angel, this could mean anything from a particularly nasty text from Valentino, to having smashed his pinky toe--did he even have toes? Angel wasn't very keen on showing anyone his feet--on a table. Both things could potentially make everyone late if Angel got caught up stewing in his anger.
Steadying himself, Husk knocked quietly on the door. Once. Twice. And waited.
The door swung open a second later, Angel standing in front of him in only a pair of black shorts and long fuzzy pink socks. He looked mad, but his frown softened a notch after seeing it was him.
"Oh, Husky, hi." Angel leaned on the door frame, arms crossing under his chest fluff to make it look bigger. Husk rolled his eyes internally. Most likely something Angel did on instinct at this point. "Can I, uh, can I help you?"
"Yeah, you can tell me what the hell is going on in there that even your pig is screaming." Husk raised an eyebrow, noticing how Angel started to flush under the fur. It was one of the things he couldn't hide with how brightly colored his fur was; the red shone right through.
"Ah, nothing to concern yourself with, don't worry." Angel cleared his throat, trying to use his taller body to block the view of his room. Unfortunately for him, he was thin as a rake and it was very easy for Husk to use his aforementioned sensitive feline eyes to see into the dimly lit room.
A lamp was on the floor, not broken thanks to the fluffy rug covering half of the room, but the bedside table it had been on was askew as well. The vanity mirror right next to it had a few bottles knocked over both on the table and the floor right below. He could see what was most likely Angel's outfit for the night hanging on the door of his closet, something flowy and shiny that he couldn't deduce the shape of just by looking.
What he could recognize was the simple corset laying on the bed, the same lilac shade as the dress.
He was no detective, but Husk could put two and two together.
"Having trouble with anything?" He nodded his chin at the mess inside. "Maybe something getting you a bit tangled up?"
Angel batted a hand at him, clicking his tongue. "Spiders don't get 'tangled up', baby." He looked back inside slowly, biting his lip in consideration. All three pairs of arms were out and crossed, all right hands tapping different rhythms on his opposing elbows. "'Though...if you don't mind lending one of them nice hands of yours..."
Husk had to laugh. "That's gotta be the first time anyone calls them 'nice'." He wiggled his fingers, showing off the dangerous claws he sported. Angel seemed entranced, following the movement closely. "But sure, show me the problem."
Angel snapped out of it, stepping to the side to let him in. Fat Nuggets was sitting on his doggie bed by the corner, but it was clean and almost new; a good sign the piglet spend more time sleeping with Angel in his bed. Whatever had spooked him earlier--likely the falling lamp--clearly wasn't bothering him anymore. He oinked excitedly and rushed to Husk, tapping at the ground with his little hoof, asking to be picked up.
Husk conceded, hanging his jacket on the door knob and quickly lifting him to drop a kiss on his snout before setting him back down on Angel's bed. He swiped the discarded corset off the sheets and turned to Angel, who was silently staring at him with shining eyes after the brief interaction with his pet. "Alright then, get over here."
Angel got there quickly, his long strides making short work of the length of the room. He sat on the velvet stool in front of the vanity, lifting his arms to allow Husk to slide the laced up corset into place. He had to pop in the two lower pairs of arms, as this specific corset didn't have an extra opening for more than the usual.
"I see." Husk chuckled. It was easier to guess now what had happened. "Not used to the lack of extra hands for this kinda job?" He asked, expertly centering the garment in a way it would fit properly when standing, while being comfortable when sitting. He started pulling at the lace in each segment, alternating the top and bottom, slowly tightening it up towards the center.
"Couldn't find a pair in this color that would fit me like that" Angel huffed, blowing at the tuft of hair falling on his face. "The lace got all knotted up and I've spent the last ten minutes setting it back right. Pulled too hard on one and my hand slipped; ended up knocking over half my shit on the floor." He fell silent as he felt the corset cinching around his waist, perfectly in place in record time. "You're good at this. Any dark past you're hiding from me, Kitty?" He teased, standing up to check himself out in the mirror.
"Had some dancing shows in my casino a few years back. Wasn't unusual that they needed help getting ready and I just happened to be near." Husk said, falling back to sit at the edge of the bed next to Fat Nuggets.
Angel hummed as he slipped the dress off the hanger. "Lucky them." He grinned, twirling his pointy finger in circles in the air. "Now, now Husky, I can't put this on with these shorts, so if you don't mind~"
Husk rolled his eyes for real this time, but complied and turned around, sitting cross-legged on the bed as he faced the back wall. Angel hummed as he got ready, and Husk could hear the swishing of the fabric as he got dressed.
"Mind helping me with this too, baby?"
Husk looked back over his shoulder, only to freeze when he found Angel sitting on the stool again, his back to him as he finished tying up the halter top behind his neck. The zipper on the back was open, and it started low enough that Angel couldn't reach it without at least his middle arms, which were hidden away due to lack of accommodating space in the attire.
Husk stood, stumbling a bit as he tripped on his own feet. His tail was swishing as he walked up to Angel, pupils considerable dilated even for the dimness of the room. He couldn't explain why, but he had no problem seeing or even touching a near naked Angel.
But to see him almost completely dressed up, with only the small detail of an unzipped dress over his half-bared back...it twisted a knot in his throat.
Angel had a long torso, so if he didn't get his clothes made to fit, then he'd adapt what he could find. The corset was off the rack, so it was too short for him and he used it mostly to accentuate his waist. It ended below his chest, leaving his upper back exposed, which worked perfectly for this specific dress. In Husk's opinion it worked way better as an eye-catcher than the usual shorter, more revealing attires Angel would wear to work or for casual days out with Cherri.
When so little was on display, it almost made him want to reach out a hand and...
"I never really wear this one." Angel spoke suddenly, making Husk jump as he was snapped out of his haze. "It's a hassle when I'm alone, even without the damn corset."
Husk hummed, placing a hand carefully on Angel's exposed bit of back to keep him sitting straight. A shiver ran down Angel's spine and made Husk chuckle. "Pity. It's a nice dress. The color suits you well."
Angel laughed breathily, shifting a bit in his seat as Husk grabbed the delicate zipper and slowly dragged it up, the dull side of his claws running up his lower back over the shiny satin. "Aw, you sayin' there's something that don't suit me, babycakes?"
"You know that won't work on me" Husk said softly, his voice low and gravelly resonating like a beating drum within Angel's rib cage, in tandem with the quickening beating of his heart. "But no, I don't think there's anything that won't suit you." He finished fastening the small clasp right above where the zipper ended, and ran the back of his hand down Angel's back to flatten the fabric in place.
Angel gasped quietly at the feeling, holding his breath for a few seconds before releasing it slowly. He stood up, the fabric of the skirt falling like water around his legs. A slit running up his left thigh to the hip showed his leg, and Husk grinned at the sight of the fuzzy pink sock he still had on, clashing completely with the rest of the outfit.
"I'll let you finish getting ready then." He pointed at the sock with his chin, smile widening when Angel realized he still had them on. Angel puffed his cheeks and moved the skirt to cover his leg. Husk laughed and was about to turn to leave, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him in place.
"Not so fast." Angel's voice called him back, and when he turned to face him, he was standing right there, bent at the hip thanks to the corset. He brought the other hand to Husk's other shoulder, dragging both together down his chest. "Lemme help ya a bit, too."
Husk felt more than saw Angel untying his tie, making quick work of fixing it into a perfect full Windsor. Or at least that's what it seemed. He was too busy noticing the subtle makeup Angel had applied before getting dressed. It was barely there, so he hadn't seen it before, but the dark eyeliner making his eyes look sharper and the hint of clear lip gloss were all he could see now.
Angel wasn't even looking at him, eyes focused on fixing his tie and straightening up his shirt, even going as far as tucking it in better in his pants. There wasn't the slightest hint of sexual intent in the gesture; it was actually strangely domestic.
"That style goes better with your shirt. You got a jacket?" Angel asked, and Husk wordlessly turned back to the door, where he'd left it hanging from the knob once he entered the room. Angel huffed and checked it for wrinkles, brushing some fuzz off the shoulders. He was about to hand it over when he paused, and quickly draped it over his own shoulders like a cape, checking himself out in his mirror and chuckling before finally giving it back. "Well, what do you know? Looks good like this too."
Husk accepted it silently, letting it hang from his forearm as he followed Angel to the door. Angel's perfume wafting from the garment and into his nose.
"Thanks, Husk." Angel smiled at him, something small and sincere, and Husk felt his heart skip a beat at the lack of any nickname for him. "I'll see you downstairs?"
"Sure." He hesitated for a moment, an aborted step to the side as he almost went on his way before catching himself. He grabbed Angel's hand and brought it to his face, kissing his knuckles quickly before hightailing it out of there, practically flying down the flights of stairs to the lobby.
Angel's hand remained where Husk had released it, hanging in midair as he stared at the spot Husk had been a second before. He brought his hand to his chest, biting his cheek to keep the stupid grin that wanted to overtake his face.
He turned back inside and closed the door. He still had to finish getting ready.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Angel's dress is something like this but lilac, with the back starting a bit higher to cover up the corset. He's a long boy, it'd work anyway, ha.
Might post this to ao3 as well, for clout lmao.
Anyway, I'll see if I can do something more with prompts later, byeeee.
81 notes · View notes
mayipleasehavebread · 17 days
Text
I Can See You - Chapter 3
Tumblr media
Kendall Roy Masterlist
Pairing: Secret Office Romance Kendall Roy x Fem Reader
Word Count: 9k
Chapter Summary: You and Kendall (unsuccessfully) attempt to adapt to your strictly professional relationship
Warnings: Age gap (reader in her 20s, Kendall is 39), swearing, brief mention of sexual assault (waystar cruise scandal), comfort, light smut (making out, grinding)
A/N: Apologies for the long wait!!! Had a lot of ground to cover with this chapter lmao, hope you guys enjoy it! Will do my best to have chapter 4 out sooner :)
Chapter Theme Song: Fire For You by Cannons
*No use of Y/N
“Hey, looking forward to working with you as well. Enjoy England!” 
Kendall sits alone at the back of the Roy jet, baseball cap pulled low over his forehead as he stares at your text. He’s looked at it so many times over the last few days that he thinks there may be a permanent imprint of it etched behind his eyes. 
He rereads it again, wishing your exclamation point had been assigned to the first sentence rather than the second. That’s what you should be more excited about - working in close proximity with him every day, not him having a horrific few days on the other side of an ocean.
Obviously he knows you aren’t aware of what this trip was for him. No one would guess that a few days in England with his family would make for one of the most miserable weeks of his life, or that he would board this plane feeling more alone and hopeless than he ever has before. The trip coming to an end is alleviating, but only partly. The shame he carries with him about the night of his sister’s wedding, the heaving guilt that is constantly sitting in the middle of his chest, has grown exponentially since he left New York. Seeing the dead kid’s house, meeting his family, being unable to confide in anyone, not even his own mother, about it
 it’s bleak. It’s so fucking bleak and he’s now convinced that he will be living with this level of anguish for the rest of his life. It’s the loneliest feeling in the world. 
The pilot announces that they’ve begun their descent into New York. Kendall locks his phone, the bright light from your text disappearing to black. It’s still there though, right behind his eyes. 
————————————
Your week goes relatively smoothly, considering how it began. You and Jess finish your training by Tuesday afternoon, and the rest of the week is spent mostly just preparing you to fully enter the Waystar world. You meet a few other important executives, as well as their assistants, and you’re pleased to find out that you are definitely not the least qualified in the bunch. One assistant, Greg, who Jess tells you is actually a Roy cousin, stumbles awkwardly through your short interaction with him, using words he clearly doesn’t know the meanings of multiple times. He reminds you a bit of a newborn giraffe in terms of physical build, grace, and intelligence. If he can survive in this world, then you definitely can. 
When Friday rolls around, you’re surprised to realize that you actually feel pretty good about your future at Waystar. You understand your tasks, are getting used to the routine, and no longer feel overly intimidated by the workplace. All that’s left to do now is learn how to maintain a professional working relationship with a man who has seen, touched, and been inside your naked body. Ugh. You have until Monday to deal with that though, a full two days to relax and reset before the real work begins. No need to stress yourself out about it too much yet. 
It’s almost 7pm when Jess tells you you’re good to head out for the weekend. “9-5 isn’t really a thing at Waystar, especially when you’re an assistant,” she explained on Monday, so she’s been dismissing you later and later every night this week to prepare you for what’s to come. For now, you don’t mind too much. It’s not like you have any friends to make plans with or any money to do anything exciting with. The extra one or two hours are usually just spent at your desk while you and Jess exchange life stories, so you enjoy the opportunity to socialize. You can definitely see it becoming a frustrating expectation in the future, but you’ll cross that bridge when you get to it. 
You grab your jacket and bag from your desk as you prepare to head home, the knowledge that you won’t be back here tomorrow giving you a lightweight, relaxed feeling. After saying goodnight to Jess, you head toward reception and push the call button for the elevator. The office is quiet, but not as quiet as you would expect it to be at 7pm on a Friday night. 
‘This is part of why the Roys are billionaires,’ you think to yourself. ‘Running themselves and everyone around them into the ground.’ 
As if conjured by your insubordinate thoughts, the elevator doors open, and you’re suddenly face to face with Kendall and a man you’ve only seen in the many Waystar training videos you’ve watched this week - Logan Roy. 
You take an automatic step back to give them space to exit the elevator, clutching your jacket close to your chest as if to protect your core from an enemy attack. You and Kendall stare at each other for a second, both of you looking like deer in headlights. He was clearly not expecting you to be at the office this late, and you were not expecting him to be back in New York this early. The surprise appearances the two of you keep making are never ending.
Kendall clears his throat as his dad exits the elevator first. Logan doesn’t even look your way until Kendall speaks and gestures to you.
“Uh, Dad, this is one of our new hires. She’s just started working under Jess as an administrative assistant.” 
Logan stops and gives an uninterested “oh” as he turns to you and extends his hand for you to shake. You return the gesture and introduce yourself, telling him what a pleasure it is to meet him and work for Waystar. 
“Good to have you aboard,” he nods. 
You’re not sure where it comes from, maybe your lifelong need to be liked, but the urge to say nice things that you don’t actually believe suddenly takes over.
“Thank you. Really, it’s an honour to work for such a longstanding company. I’ve always admired Waystar’s consistency; how you’ve been able to maintain such a steady brand presence and image for decades is beyond impressive.”
Your praise has piqued Logan’s interest ever so slightly. “Glad you see it that way,” he remarks approvingly. “Consistency is what keeps our customers loyal, it’s crucial to our success.” 
You nod. “I completely agree, and your track record in earning the consumers’ trust and then keeping them loyal
 it’s very admirable.” 
“Well, thank you,” Logan responds. “Hopefully you'll contribute to maintaining that consistency during your time here.”
“Absolutely, any way I can. Maybe I’ll have to adopt my own Waystar uniform or something so I can get into the right mindset.” You give him a sweet smile with your joke, internally hating yourself for being such a kiss-ass.
To your surprise, Logan emits a light chuckle and gives your arm a grandfatherly pat. “Good attitude,” he smiles, “that’s what we need around here.” 
Your smile grows at his reaction. You may be a kiss-ass, but this feeling of relief, knowing you managed to not completely fuck up this interaction, makes it worth it. You suddenly remember that Kendall is also present and your eyes quickly flash to him, hoping you’ll be able to see what he thinks of your conversation with his dad. 
Though you may have forgotten he was there for a moment, but you’re painfully aware of it now. His gaze is fixated on you, and he doesn’t look impressed. He looks
 you’re not sure there’s an exact word for it, but the closest one that comes to mind is mystified. Not like he’s fascinated by you, but more like he’s looking at a math problem that he can’t seem to figure out. Intense concentration mixed with deep confusion and a sprinkle of frustration.
You’re suddenly desperate to end the conversation. “Well I won’t take up any more of your time Mr. Roy, but it was a pleasure to meet you.” 
He gives you a nod and another pat on the arm. “You too,” he says, and then he begins to walk away. Your gaze flashes back to Kendall, whose expression hasn’t changed from the last time you looked at him. He stands there for a second, watching you as you press the elevator call button again and not saying anything when you finally look up and hold his eye contact. His brows are slightly furrowed and you think he’s bound to make some type of comment, but he doesn’t. He just walks away, following his dad deeper into the office and leaving you to stare after him. 
The elevator dings behind you as it arrives, snapping you back to attention. You stumble inside, fidgeting anxiously with the buttons of your jacket as the doors close and you begin your speedy descent to the ground. You no longer feel like you have all weekend to relax, you know you’re going to spend the next two days doing nothing but replaying that short conversation over and over again in your head. What did you do to warrant that kind of reaction from Kendall?
Your commute is always cramped and tedious, but it feels 10x busier and longer today. You spend the entire subway ride with your headphones in your ears but nothing playing, which you don’t even notice until you get off at your stop - your mind has been making enough noise on its own. Eventually you reach your street and start to feel like you might be able to relax; you just need some food and TV to distract your brain. Just as you’re approaching your building’s front door though, your phone buzzes in your pocket. You pull it out and your heart stops.
Kendall Roy
2 Text Messages
You freeze in your tracks, your fingers rushing to unlock your phone. You don’t want to give yourself time to theorize what his messages might be about so you open them immediately. 
“Have to say, that was both impressive and unsettling to watch.
You didn’t fuck him too did you?”
A shocked laugh escapes your mouth. Definitely not what you were expecting to read. You begin typing a response as you push the front door of your building open with your shoulder. 
“Lol no, but you should still be worried. Clearly I’m naturally gifted at winning over members of the Roy family.” 
You hit send before you can overthink it. His second text was the furthest thing from professional, so there should be no issue with you playing into the banter that he started. 
Your phone buzzes again before you’ve even entered your apartment. 
“Oh I am, anyone who can tame a Roy needs to be taken seriously. 
Gotta keep an eye on you before you charm your way into my job next.” 
You pull your jacket off and then toss your bag onto the couch, flopping down beside it as you smile at your phone. 
“I was thinking of just taking your company shares actually. I’ll let you keep the COO title and office, it’s the least I can do.” 
You know that texting like this is dangerous. It gives you and Kendall the opportunity to continue developing a personal relationship when you should be solely focused on your professional relationship. But
 fuck, you really like him. You two click so seamlessly; talking to him, joking around with him, being intimate with him
 it all comes naturally. If you’re going to be in each other’s lives and can’t do the physical intimacy part, you should at least get to have a little bit of emotional intimacy. It wouldn’t make sense to completely deprive yourselves of your connection, right? 
That’s what you tell yourself when your Friday night texts to Kendall turn into Saturday morning ones, and then into a conversation that continues until the end of the weekend. The banter is still present, but your messages to each other also take on a more sincere tone. Kendall is almost always working in some capacity so his texts arrive irregularly, but when he does respond, he surprises you by actually seeming interested in how you’re spending your weekend. You give him little updates of your adventures around the different Manhattan neighbourhoods, and he makes jokes about you being a lame tourist, but he also wants to know your opinion of his city and what you’ve been most interested in seeing. The urge to make a “you should show me around” comment feels impossible to resist, but you manage to hold your tongue. It would be hard to pretend that your text conversations have been completely innocent after making a suggestion like that. 
When Monday arrives, you actually find yourself excited to be fully working with Kendall rather than nervous. Continuing to flirtatiously tease each other at work is obviously out of the question (especially when everyone thinks you’ve only interacted once for less than 10 minutes), but you’re just happy you get to be around him. Your text conversations this weekend have fully cemented your fondness for him. His wit, his intelligence, his perceptiveness, you love it all, and the more you learn about him, the more you want to continue learning. It’s a dangerous realization to come to, but you tell yourself that it’s not a big deal. As long as Kendall stays professional, you can too.
You get to the office early, and Jess is, of course, already there (you’ve learned that you can show up as early as you want, but Jess will still be there first). You begin the day by reviewing Kendall’s general schedule for the week together, and you’re surprised to learn that he’s going to be crossing the pond again, but this time to go to Scotland for an event being held in his Dad’s honour. God, is he ever actually here? 
Today, he is. He shows up a little after 9, wearing the stern expression that you’re still getting used to. The confident smile that crinkles his eyes, the smile that initially attracted you to him, is hard to picture when you watch him in his natural habitat. He gives you and Jess a neutral greeting as he strides into his office, and you begin to understand why one of your first impressions of him was that he belonged in any room he entered. It’s probably hard to not feel that way when you’re the prince of an empire and can see the effect your presence has on others. Everyone in the room sits up straighter when Kendall walks by, and you notice yourself do it too. The last thing you want him to think is that you aren’t taking this job seriously, so you remind yourself to always look like you’re hard at work. 
Kendall has a meeting with some of the other top executives shortly after arriving, but it’s not long until he’s back in his office and calling you and Jess in.
“So let’s uh, go over the week,” he says, looking down at the paperwork on his desk as you and Jess sit down opposite him. “And then Jess, I want to make some changes to the script for that
 recording studio bullshit I have to do for the uh, Dundee thing.” He looks up at her at this point, but his eyes haven’t travelled in your direction even once. 
“For sure,” Jess nods before turning to you. “Why don’t you take it away with the main points for the week.”
“Oh yeah, um, sure,” you say as you shuffle through your documents and then begin to summarise the central tasks Kendall has this week. Board meetings, lunches with shareholders, calls with Scottish reporters about Logan’s upcoming Dundee celebration, his expected attendance at the preview for a play that his brother Connor is financing, etc. Once you get through all the boring stuff, Jess fills him in on the more nuanced and personal information he needs to know, which includes mentioning the ridiculously long email that Connor sent about Kendall’s ‘enthusiastic presence at the preview being of the utmost importance in order to set the tone for the play’s run.’ Kendall sighs. 
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he mutters, shaking his head slightly. He looks up at Jess - he hasn’t made eye contact with you even once yet. “Could you get him off my back somehow, like, I don’t fuckin’ know
” he trails off, thinking of what it’ll take to get Connor to shut up. 
You jump in. “We already arranged for the playwright - Willa?” You look over at Jess to confirm the name, and she nods. “To receive a bouquet from you the night before the preview, but we could include the entire cast if you’d like? Make it a bigger gesture?” 
Kendall finally locks eyes with you. “Oh, yeah, that’s, uh
 that’s good, go ahead with that. Please,” he adds before looking back the pile of documents on his desk. “Is that everything?” he asks as he looks up at Jess, his eyes briefly flashing in your direction. 
“Yep,” she nods. “Do you want to start making those changes to your script now?” 
With your role in the meeting being complete, you gather your things and leave Kendall’s office, settling back in at your desk on the other side of the glass wall. 
————————————
Jess pulls out a physical copy of the script she’s workshopped for Kendall. Her draft is good, but Kendall knows it needs to be more explicitly complimentary toward his father. Gotta do whatever it takes to keep him happy. 
“So, what were you thinking of adjusting?” she asks as she scans the page, placing it on his desk between them.
“Oh um, something about him always being there for me, or
” he trails off, his mind elsewhere. “Uh, was it your idea to send flowers to Willa?” He can’t concentrate until he’s confirmed something for himself. 
Jess looks up from the page and shakes her head, explaining that you had taken the initiative to write a response to Connor saying how excited Kendall was to attend the preview, and then arranged for a bouquet to be sent to Willa. All Jess had done was given you the go-ahead to send the already-written email, and her permission to order the flowers. 
“Right,” he responds, “right, okay, thanks,” and then he directs his attention back to the script in front of him. He can feel Jess looking at him questioningly for a moment, and he knows that what he just did was suspicious as fuck. At Waystar, it really doesn’t matter who had an idea first, it only matters that bad ideas are rejected and good ideas are implemented. Confirming who suggested the (pretty basic) plan to quiet Connor’s cry for attention is not even remotely important, and Jess knows that. Kendall just couldn’t stop himself from hearing more about how you operate. How you took control of the Connor situation, the way you sweet-talked his dad, the fact that, so far, you’ve been more than capable of acting like you and Kendall never spent a night together
 it’s bizarre. 
“Let’s uh, fuck it, let’s put in something about my dad being there for my, uh
 many ups and downs or whatever,” Kendall suggests, hoping to distract Jess from his unusual behaviour. She nods and searches the page for a suitable place to make the addition, and Kendall allows himself a second to look over at your desk. Unfortunately, Jess looks up at him before his gaze leaves you. 
————————————
Your week speeds by. Kendall isn’t always in the Waystar building, but the quality of your day multiplies when he is - not just because you like being around him, but also because when you are, you can see that he’s just as aware of your presence as you are of his. You sometimes catch him sneaking glances at you from his office, and he comes out to your desks semi-regularly to make requests of Jess that definitely could’ve been done over the intercom. One day, when you’re settling back in at your desk after making a cup of tea in the kitchen, Kendall gets back to his office from a meeting and notices your drink. 
“Those aren’t cheap, you know,” he comments as he walks by your desk. “Teabags are, what, like 3 fuckin’ dollars now? If you’re gonna have multiple every day, we’re gonna have to start taking that out of your pay cheque.” He smirks at you, and you can’t believe he’s actually doing this while Jess is sitting directly across from you. You haven’t seen him ever joke around with her, is this not noticeably out of character for him?
You try to react like a new assistant would with a boss she doesn’t want to disrespect - politely engaged. You laugh lightly (very lightly, can’t have Jess thinking you’re flirting) and smile. “I think it’s more like 20 cents, but okay, I understand, gotta do what you gotta do to keep this place running.” You shrug good-naturedly (“Nothing to see here Jess! Just being agreeable with the boss!”) and turn back to your work. You think you’ve hidden your connection with Kendall pretty well until Friday night rolls around. You’re just about to head out when Jess calls you over. 
“Hey, sorry, can you hang back for a minute?” she asks.
“Uh yeah, of course. What’s up?” You settle back into your chair opposite her, resting your jacket and bag on your lap.
Jess leans forward on her desk and glances around. The office is relatively empty, and no one is seated near the two of you. Deciding that it’s safe to talk, she turns back to face you. 
“Well, you’ve been here for 2 weeks, I just wanted to see how you’re feeling about everything so far.” 
“Oh, um
” The way she asks the question catches you slightly off guard; this is definitely not a formal performance review, it feels much more like a personal check in. “Really good, actually. Everyone is pretty nice, I think I’m handling my tasks well
 yeah, I’m feeling good about it all.” You nod to indicate that you’re done speaking, but she looks skeptical.
“
 So everything’s totally okay?” she asks. Again, this doesn’t feel like official Waystar business, and she isn’t presenting the question in an accusatory manner, she seems
 concerned. 
Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Yes, everything’s totally okay,” you nod. “Why?” 
She leans forward a little further. “I’ve just
 I’ve noticed that Kendall’s been paying
 extra attention to you.” 
Your heart drops. Fuck. Does she know? Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. 
“Like I said on your first day, he’s a good guy but he can be a bit, um, unsteady at times, and you know, he’s been a billionaire pretty much his entire life so he isn’t always conscious of the kind of power he holds
” She raises her eyebrows at you as if to hint at what she’s trying to say, but you don’t want to give any indication that you know exactly what she’s been noticing. You give her your best confused expression instead. “I just mean
 you can tell me if you ever feel uncomfortable. Sometimes he just isn’t aware that he’s crossed a line that normal people wouldn’t.” 
You pretend to finally realize what she’s suggesting. “Oh! Oh no, I haven’t felt uncomfortable at all.” Thinking on your feet, you come up with a valid reason for Kendall’s heightened attention around you. “I just mentioned to him, when he was showing me the copier room on my first day, that I was a little nervous to work here, which was probably a stupid thing to mention to my new boss during our first conversation, but I think after hearing that he’s just been more conscious about me, like, fitting in and being comfortable at the company, so he’s been paying closer attention.” You realize that you’re rambling and hope she assumes it’s because you feel bad that Kendall’s being wrongly accused of harassment. “So no, I haven’t felt uncomfortable at all, but I really appreciate you looking out for me.” You give her a smile of gratitude and she smiles back, seemingly satisfied with your explanation. You breathe an internal sigh of relief. 
“Oh, okay good. You’re doing really well so far, I just wanted to make sure that everything else was okay too.” She smiles again and emits a breathy “whew” sound. “Cool, I feel better now. Sorry to keep you behind longer, please, go have a good weekend.” 
“Thanks Jess, you too. I’ll see you on Monday.” You give her a little wave and try to stay composed as you make your way to reception while your mind screams at you. Having to act like you’re not freaking out in the elevator as it stops at multiple floors on its way to the ground is a cruel test of self-control, but you eventually make it out. The fresh air that hits your face when you finally exit the Waystar building helps you settle down a little, but not enough to completely erase your sense of urgency. You don’t hesitate in pulling your phone out to message Kendall. 
Though you haven’t been texting each other as consistently as you did this past weekend, you haven’t exactly been ignoring each other either. Your conversations are generally innocent, usually just teasing jokes that you can’t make in the office without seeming too friendly (comments a little more intimate than pointing out your excessive tea consumption), but it’s now clear that you weren’t hiding your friendship as well as you thought. You rush to compose a warning text for him.
“Jess commented on you paying “extra attention” to me. We need to tone it down.”
You quickly hit send before re-reading the text. It’s not until it’s already been delivered that you realize that you didn’t mention anything about covering for him, or that she doesn’t seem to be suspicious anymore. It’s no surprise when you receive an incoming call from Kendall not even 20 seconds later. 
“It’s okay, I handled it,” you say the second you pick up. You explain your lie about ‘confessing your nerves’ to him in the copy room on your first day, and that what Jess has noticed is just him keeping an eye on you. “She seemed to believe it, so if she asks, just pretend like you’ve become an empathetic person overnight.” You can’t stop yourself from adding in that little dig at the end, it comes too naturally with Kendall. 
“Hey, I’ve got the empathy of fuckin’ Gandhi,” he quips. “I let you keep your job, didn’t I?”
You scoff. “For your ego’s sake, I’m gonna let you pretend that I didn’t have you backed into a corner. But seriously,” you add, your voice taking on a more serious tone. “Maybe we need to
 take a step back from talking for a bit? Just until we can be friendly with each other less noticeably?” 
Your heart aches for itself. Talking to Kendall, joking with Kendall, flirting with Kendall
 You’re ashamed to admit that your interactions with him, whether by text or in person, have been the clear highlights of the week. Your conversation with Jess is a rude awakening though, and you think it’s maybe time for you to focus your attention on someone other than your boss.
Kendall is silent on the other end for a few seconds. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, okay. I’ll, fuckin’, uh, I’ll just see you when I get back from Scotland then.”
You want to take it back, you want him to resist, but unfortunately, neither of you does what you want. 
“Okay, yeah, I’ll see you next week. Have a good trip and uh, enjoy the play tonight.” Kendall just responds with ‘yeah, thanks,’ and hangs up. You stare at the black screen for a moment, angry with yourself for getting into such a stupidly risky situation in the first place. You allow yourself a few seconds of self pity before you unlock your phone, open the app store, and download Hinge. 
————————————
Kendall hangs up and stares out the window of his chauffeured car’s backseat. He’s a few minutes away from the theatre where Willa is holding her play’s preview, and if he didn’t want to go before, he definitely doesn’t want to go now. 
The disappointment he feels is frustrating. You aren’t dating, you aren’t fucking, he can’t even really say you’re friends because you don’t hang out with each other outside of work. He’s not really losing much by not being able to text you anymore, so why is this so disappointing? He chalks it up to you being the one to suggest taking a step back. His marriage to Rava aside, it’s very rare that he’s not the one to end things (not that this was even a relationship to begin with, he reminds himself again). He’s just frustrated because his assistant was the one to say that they shouldn’t text anymore, that’s it. He just needs to find a new person to focus on, someone who he can feel a bit more in control with. 
The car pulls up to the theatre. He opens the door and steps out, ready to be Kendall Roy. 
***
Willa’s play is shit of course, but one aspect of it manages to hold his attention. An actress - this pretty woman with short brown hair - catches his eye and keeps it for the entire show. He practically beelines his way to her at the after party and doesn’t hesitate to turn the cockiness and charm up to 1000%. She’s cute and bubbly, he’s definitely attracted to her, and she seems to be attracted to him (or his money, name, whatever), so he takes her home that night. The sex is really good, but for some reason the entire thing feels
 off. Something about her isn’t clicking for him, but being alone isn’t really an option for him right now; he can’t just not have someone else to focus on after his call with you. He throws himself completely into this fling in hopes that eventually, he’ll start to like her more. 
He does it all. He love-bombs her, he invites her to Dundee, he holes up with her in their lavish hotel room, he shows her off to his family, but none of it works. What is he missing? He’s back in the swing of things, getting his ego stroked and his dick wet, she’s hot, and he gets to play the role of the swaggering billionaire who exists in a perpetual state of unshakable confidence; it’s all the things he usually finds some semblance of pleasure in, but not this time - this feels so much more vacant than usual. It’s infuriating, why is this being taken from him as well? 
He finds himself growing increasingly frustrated with her for not properly fulfilling her purpose of being an easy distraction, but he knows that his anger is misplaced. It’s not her that’s ruined this for him, it’s you. 
Her interaction with his dad is the nail in the coffin. Having his father’s approval is the single most important thing to him, and with her on his arm, he can kiss whatever respect Logan may still have for him goodbye. Even if, like you, she had aced her conversation with his father, he doubts it would’ve mattered. He knows why it feels empty; he hasn’t actually earned her affections like he did yours, and he doesn’t really care to. Whether she knows the real him or not doesn’t matter, because this thing with her doesn’t fucking matter. He sends her back home early and wonders how much more depressing his life can get.  
————————————
Your Monday morning starts the same way it normally does. You get to work early and Jess is already there, ready to review the day ahead with you. Her behaviour this morning is a little more serious than you’ve seen before though.
“So there’s been some developments with the Brightstar incident
” she starts, and you can tell she’s already exhausted. “A whistleblower came forward, and he’s provided concrete details about what happened in cruises, and how it was all covered up. There’s going to be a federal hearing and Kendall will be testifying, so we
” she sighs. “We’re gonna have our work cut out for us this week.” 
As you two get down to business, it becomes clear that it’s really just Jess who has her work cut out for her. She’ll be joining Kendall in Washington and working with him and the rest of the executive team to form a strategic plan for his testimony. Your week won’t be much different from the last two. You’ll be staying in New York, holding down the fort, and rescheduling every single one of Kendall’s obligations for the near future. 
For you, this couldn’t have worked out any better. You’re only in your third week, so not having to learn anything new or dive into the dirty side of the corporate world is ideal when you’re still getting comfortable in the role. It also means that Kendall will be gone for at least a few days, which will make this transition of not speaking to him slightly easier. Out of sight, out of mind, right?
For Kendall, you’re concerned. Why exactly is he being called to testify? Because he’s the son of the CEO? Or because he played some part in this? Jess doesn’t give you many details about what this means for him, and you don’t press her for any. You’re not sure you want to know how involved he was with the cover up; you want to believe the best of Kendall, and if you learn that he was complicit in this kind of shit
 the thought of it makes you feel sick. 
Kendall and Jess leave for DC the next day, and you continue on with your week as scheduled. It’s weird being the only one there. You aren’t completely alone in the giant Waystar offices obviously, but without Jess and Kendall there, you’re pretty much just working by yourself and not answering to anyone. For this reason, you don’t hesitate to pull up the livestream for the congressional hearing on the day that Kendall is set to testify. 
Tom Wambsgans is called first. You learned from Jess recently that he’s actually Kendall’s brother-in-law, and his assistant is Greg, the Roy cousin you met last week. Tom absolutely butchers his testimony in a way that gives you the worst possible second-hand embarrassment. ‘Good god,’ you think to yourself, ‘this company really is just a shitpile of nepotism.’
Kendall and Logan are next. Kendall sits next to his father with a stern look on his face. It’s the look that has completely replaced the crinkly smile you initially associated him with. You miss it. 
Logan begins his testimony by attempting to gently brush aside the accusations, but when that doesn’t work, he doesn’t hesitate to throw Kendall under the bus. Your heart rate skyrockets as it becomes clear that Kendall is now the main target. Fuck, the last thing you want to do right now is watch what happened with Tom happen to Kendall. The senator questioning him seems ready to play hardball, and though you suspect that Kendall might be capable of striking back, watching him actually do it is hypnotic. 
No stutters, no swearing, no filler words. He uses ‘sir’ and speaks respectfully while also turning every accusation back on the senator. The way he commands the room with his testimony is mesmerising, and as you watch him control the situation, you feel something change - a different type of attraction to Kendall is rooting itself inside you, and you don’t attempt to stop it. Since the day you met him, you’ve thought he was handsome, smart, funny, sexy, all that good stuff, but right now
 god, this is a side of him that you hadn’t fully seen yet and you need to see more. You want him to aggressively push you up against a wall before he has his way with you. You want him on top of you, talking you through it while he brings you over the edge. You want him to lay claim over you, to tell you that you’re his and only his. You feel your heart rate pick up again. 
His testimony ends and you close the browser. Fuck. You shouldn’t have watched this. It’s the furthest thing from ‘out of sight out of mind’ you could’ve done. Your brain is swimming with thoughts of Kendall. Kendall kissing you, Kendall touching you, Kendall fucking you. And now, you have to get ready for a date with someone else. 
This week seemed like the perfect time to do it - waste no time and put yourself out there while Kendall isn’t around. You started matching with people on Hinge and eventually connected with someone you could see yourself having some fun with. He asked you out for drinks tonight, and you were originally planning on going home after work to change and get ready, but you don’t give a shit anymore. He’s not Kendall. It doesn’t matter.
You dump the contents of your bag out onto your desk. A tube of chapstick and some blotting papers are the only beauty products you have with you. Sighing, you dab at your face with the blotting papers and apply the chapstick. You’ll quickly fix your hair in the bathroom before you leave, but unfortunately, that’s all the prep this Hinge guy is going to get from you today. 
You hang around the office relatively late. Your date is at 8pm, so it isn’t until 7:30 that you finally stop spinning from side to side in your desk chair and leave the building. When you arrive at the bar and meet your date, you immediately feel guilty. He’s good looking, he’s well dressed, he seems excited to be on this date with you, and you couldn’t care less about him. You could be on a date with the man of your dreams right now and it wouldn’t matter because he’s not Kendall. “Hit us as hard as you can, we can take it. We have nothing to hide,” in Kendall’s deep, assertive voice replays in your head over and over, and no matter how hard you try, you can’t get excited about the man sitting in front of you. 
You’re able to make it through 2 hours before you just can’t pretend to enjoy the date anymore. He offers to walk you home, but you don’t accept. He doesn’t pressure you, just tells you that he had a good time and he hopes you get home safe. You end the date with a hug before going your separate ways, and you know that you will never see that man again. 
The journey home is a daze filled with negative self talk. Your mind is stuck on the only man in the city that you can’t have, and when a perfectly good alternative is presented to you, you can’t do anything except think about Kendall. God, you’re a fucking mess. 
It gets worse when you finally return home. You begin digging through your bag for your apartment keys, ready to just crawl into bed and sleep this day away, but they’re nowhere to be seen. You check the pockets of your bag, your pants, your jacket, but they aren’t there. Your mind races, wondering where you could’ve left them when you remember dumping your bag out onto your desk. 
“Are you fucking kidding me,” you swear under your breath. It’s almost midnight on a Friday night, there’s no way in hell that your geriatric landlord is going to be around to let you into your apartment. You have to go back to work. 
You feel numb as your climb into the Uber you order and are shuttled back to work. Forgetting your keys further confirms for you what a mess you are. When you arrive at the office, you speak to the security guard in the lobby. After showing him your ID card and explaining your situation, and he lets you take the elevator up. You plan on getting out of there as quickly as possible, but that changes when you approach your desk and notice that a lamp in Kendall’s office is on. 
And then, you notice Kendall. 
He’s on the couch on the far side of his office, scrolling on his phone while he roughly rubs the back of his neck. Your task of retrieving your keys vanishes completely from your mind, and you approach his office door, knocking softly. His head snaps up at the sound, but his expression relaxes when he see’s it’s you. 
“Hey,” you say gently as you push the glass door open. “You’re back already.”
He rises from the couch. “Uh, yeah
 benefits of a private jet.” He gives a half-hearted smile and gestures for you to come in. “I uh, yeah, I didn’t want to stay in that, fuckin’, political hell hole any longer than I needed to.â€ïżœïżœ
“Understandable,” you say as you close the glass door behind you. He’s standing near the window now, arms crossed, and you stand opposite him awkwardly, unsure if it would be weird to sit and make yourself comfortable. His eyes flash over to the couch.
“Sorry, I’m fuckin’ exhausted, can we sit please?”
Though all you want right now is to be in your own bed, the expensive couch in Kendall’s office is an acceptable placeholder, especially when staying here also means you get to be in his company. You nod and sit down, and he joins you, keeping a good amount of space between the two of you.
“So
 how do you feel?” you ask after a moment, your head turning in his direction.
“Oh, um, yeah. Initially, I felt pretty good,” he says. His legs are spread apart and he’s leaning forward, elbows resting on his thighs as he clasps his hands together in the empty space. You notice his long fingers, the veins protruding across the back of his hands, the defined tendons stretched across the skin. You never paid much attention to his hands before, but now, all you can think about is how much you want to hold them, want them on you, want his fingers in you. Fuck, you really shouldn’t have watched that livestream. “You know, everyone was telling me it went well, but, uh
 someone still needs to go down for it. I just
 I have this shitty fucking feeling that it’s gonna be me.” 
There’s no trace of anxiety, or anger, or sadness in his tone. He sounds so removed from the situation, almost apathetic toward it. You’re desperate to find out if that’s for the reason you fear.
“Kendall, I have to ask,” you say slowly. “Did you
 know? Anything about it?”
You don’t dare look at him after asking something like that, your eyes stay glued to your feet. He sighs, and you feel him sit up beside you. “I know it’s hard to believe but, no. I didn’t.” He pauses for a moment before he continues. “It’s
 it’s kind of an unspoken rule that the nasty stuff shouldn’t reach my desk. The executives who report to me, they eat a lot of shit for me so that I don’t have to. Keeping upper level management out of it gives us plausible deniability
 protects the company.” 
You nod. It’s a relief that he wasn’t the one covering up the horrors that happened on those cruises, and you can now assume that his apathy toward the entire thing is a coping method - detaching himself from the feeling that he’s going to take the blame for everything is probably the only thing keeping him together. 
He’s looking over at you now, and your concerned expression must be telling him a different story. “I know, just because I wasn’t fully aware of the details doesn’t make it okay. It’s fucking awful. But, I uh, I think I’ll be the one taking the fall for it anyways, so there’s my fucking karma.” He sighs again.
You shake your head slightly. That’s not at all the impression the hearing left you with. “I don’t know Kendall
 I was watching and you
 you did really well,” you offer. “I know I’m not a corporate strategist or anything, but from the perspective of an average citizen, you um
” you pause, wondering how to properly word this. “You seemed powerful.”
Kendall gives a small, slightly bitter laugh as he leans forward on the couch again. He hangs his head down and begins to roughly run his hands up and down his face. “Yeah, that’s uh, probably not the best impression to make when they want a top executive’s head on a fucking stick.” 
You instinctively turn your body toward him and reach your hand out. It lands on his shoulder and you feel him freeze under your touch, but he doesn’t move away. “No, but not powerful in the sense that people will want to overthrow you, powerful in a way that seemed
 warranted. Like
 you controlled your responses so masterfully, no one could watch how you handled that situation and think that your power was just given to you by default or achieved through brutality.” 
There’s no need to expand on this point - he knows you’re referring to Tom and his dad, and you wouldn’t dare to make any explicitly negative comments about either of them. You can see that the Roy family has a fucked up dynamic, but they also seem close. You need to focus not on what they did wrong, but on what he did right. “You presented yourself as someone who deserves their position, and Americans love it when people earn their privilege. I really can’t see you being a main target. You just
 yeah, you came across really well,” you finish. 
You suddenly realize that as you’ve been speaking, your hand has migrated from his shoulder to his upper back, and you’ve started to rub small circles against the smooth fabric of his button up shirt. He sighs, his head still hanging low, and you feel his muscles relaxing slightly.
“Thanks,” he mumbles softly, and you aren’t sure if it’s in response to your complimentary words or your soothing touch, but it doesn’t really matter as long as you’re helping him feel a little better. You continue rubbing his back gently for a bit until he slowly sits up straight again. You take this as his way of saying you can stop, so your hand retreats to your lap. You immediately wish you had another reason to keep touching him.
He takes a deep breath. “It, uh
” he stammers before pausing for a second, like he’s figuring out how to properly word what he wants to say. He leans back against the couch. “It would have been nice to have had you there,” he says, eyes glazed over and directed at the floor. “Jess was great, of course, you just, you have a comforting presence
” He hesitates before he looks over at you. 
You hold his eye contact for a moment before your gaze drops to your lap. This conversation is heading in a risky direction - you should shut it down, say goodnight, and go home, but you can’t stop yourself from leaning into it further. The two of you can never be seen together outside of work, and right now, in his office with everyone else gone, is probably the only opportunity you’ll get to have another meaningful in-person conversation with Kendall. So, instead of being smart and leaving, you stay and say what you’re actually thinking.
“I uh, I’m actually kind of relieved that I wasn’t there,” you say lightly, fiddling with your fingers in your lap. 
In your periphery, you see Kendall nod. “I get that
 it wasn’t the most enjoyable environment to be in.”
“No, it’s not that
” you waver. Fuck, are you really gonna say this? There’s no coming back if you do, but maybe that’s what you actually want. The tension between the two of you has been built up too much and it needs to break. “Just
 watching you
 you know, do your thing, it um,” you laugh awkwardly, and Kendall sits up beside you as he waits for you complete your thought. You keep your eyes in your lap. “
 I’m not sure I would’ve been able to play it cool around you after that.” 
You keep your eyes down, but you can feel Kendall move closer to you, and when he speaks, you can hear a smile in his voice. “Oh yeah?” he says smugly. “You wanna elaborate?” 
You roll your eyes, still keeping them off his face. “Oh my god, I already said you were powerful,” you groan jokingly. “What else do you want from me Ken?” 
You’ve never shortened his name before. Jess always calls him Kendall, so using his more informal name would be suspicious. It slips out now though, but you don’t regret it. It just happened naturally, and you’re ashamed to admit it, but you love how it sounds coming out of your mouth. It feels a bit like how you would talk to him if he was your boyfriend. It’s nice to get to live in that world for a second. 
“I want a whole fuckin’ sentence,” he laughs, and he moves even closer to you. Your legs are barely an inch apart, you can practically feel the heat radiating off him. You finally look up at him. 
“It was hot, okay? You were hot, is that what you want to hear?” 
His lips are on yours before you can react, but you don’t need to. Your response is immediate, as if you knew it was coming, and you fall into him like it’s second nature. 
Kendall’s hands grip your face, his fingers knotting themselves into your hair. Your arms race to wrap around his neck, and you pull each other in. This is only the second time you’ve kissed, but it feels strangely easy, like it’s something the two of you have been doing the entire time you’ve known each other. 
His mouth moves furiously against yours, his tongue slipping past your lips, and you feel excitement begin to build in your core. You could lie to yourself and pretend that you didn’t ache for him when you were in an office surrounded by other people, but it’s impossible to do that now with with his hands exploring every inch of your body. 
Your arms loosen themselves from his around his neck and your hands slide their way down to the neckline of his dress shirt. It’s unbuttoned low enough for you to access the skin of his shoulders and upper back, and you sneak your hands underneath the fabric, desperate to feel his warmth. Your urgency to get under his clothing has him groaning against your mouth, and he pulls you onto his lap, his hands not hesitating in gripping your ass as he does. You straddle him, your core resting on his groin, and you can feel him hardening by the second. 
Your hands travel down his chest to the buttons of his shirt, which you begin to undo frantically, and you feel Kendall continue to grow beneath you. God, knowing that you might get to feel him inside you again
 it sends a rush of heat coursing through your body that settles snuggly in your lower stomach. 
His hands still on your ass, he begins to guide your hips forward and back over his own, pulling your body down onto his so you can grind as much pressure against him as possible. The way your centre hits his just right is heaven. You break apart from his lips to moan into his neck, your hands still working away at the tiny buttons lining his shirt, his hands still guiding your hips. 
“Fuck,” he husks into your ear, “god, fuck I need you,” and he begins to move your hips faster. Your fingers undo the last button of his shirt and you spread it open, pushing it off his shoulders and revealing his chest. You’re both feeling that same sense of urgency now, and Kendall’s hands leave your hips to travel to the hem of your shirt. 
RING RING RING
The phone in his pocket sounds off, startling you out of your embrace.
“Jesus fuck, sorry,” he apologises as he pulls it out, and it looks like he’s about to silence the ringer when you both see the name on the screen - ‘Dad.’ 
He looks up at you. “Yeah, fuck, I should take this,” he says, and you immediately climb off him, returning to your spot on the other side of the couch. Kendall stands up, his shirt still open, and answers the phone. 
“Yeah, Dad,” he says, and you can hear Logan’s gruff tone on the other side of the call. Kendall listens for a bit, his back to you, just nodding. “Yeah, okay, I’ll uh, I’ll make my way there. Okay. Yeah, see you soon.” He hangs up and hesitates before turning back to you.
“
 Everything alright?” you ask. His eyes are fixated on his phone screen and he’s typing furiously. 
“Um
” he says as he finishes writing his message. You hear the 'whoosh' of a text being sent before he locks his phone, stuffing it into his pants pocket. He then begins to button his shirt back up, and disappointment washes over you. “I
 yeah, I don’t know. He’s organising a vacation for everyone
 like my entire family, all the higher ups
 pretty much anyone who could possibly take the fall for the Brightstar mess.” He shakes his head as he does up the last button. “Doubt it’s gonna be a fucking team building session or whatever.” 
He finally looks over at you, pausing for a moment as his gaze turns a little softer. “It, um, it was probably good that we got interrupted before we did something stupid, right?”
Oh.
You look down and nod. As much as your entire body wants to pick up where you left off, he’s right. What were you gonna do, be the assistant who fucks their boss on company property? What a fucking cliche. Add in the embarrassment of Kendall being the one to call it off, and you can now feel anxiety starting to build in your chest. What began as something you desperately wanted is quickly shifting into the most shameful moment of your life. You have to get the fuck out of here. 
You stand. “I should go,” you say. “Um
 I hope the trip goes well, and I’ll, I’ll see you after.” You don’t wait for a response from him, you leave his office and quickly grab your keys from your desk. You don’t look back. 
The elevator doors slide open immediately for you, and you rush to enter, scrambling to press the button for the ground floor. You lean up against the wall as it starts its descent, exhaling a shaky sigh. 
Fuck. 
What now?
Tag list: @foreverasleep717 @berryfinch @ad-astra-again @18dmlk @maraschinodreamo @loveandthings11 @waystarnatco @allcheesemelts @r0semaryjane @l2theogan @fictionalmen-dilflover @thetorturedpoetssdepartment @randomnessfangirl @meowmeowyoongles @verchans @midcenturymanhattan-blog @straightedgevixen @vikingsisthenewsexy @joyfulpersonbeliever
112 notes · View notes