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madamechrissy · 4 days ago

Text

you found me

art in the banner by @ayushnz_on X

pairings - nanny nanami x single mom reader

summary - you are exhausted, a single mother and running a huge marketing company, and your sweet little daughter Yuuka is honestly a menace. She's chased away every single Nanny you've tried to hire! All alone with her, you just decide to start bringing her to work, when a man walks in who might as well be Mary fucking Poppins - Nanami Kento. Sweet, patient, and Yuuka just loves him on sight, you pay his very high salary and promise no overtime. But Nanami grows to love what is becoming a family too much, and you grow to crave more and more of his time. The lines blur - what's professional and what's real?

contents/warnings - so fluffy I'm surprised at myself aha, hurt/comfort, reader is a mom, past abuse from her ex (only briefly mentioned) eventual smut, sexual tension humor, Nanami being a sweetheart, Yuuka being adorable, found family vibesss

gonna be a little mini series based on the drabble here! Tags are open <3

part one

You’re exhausted, juggling being a single mom and running a company was not easy, especially when your little daughter Yuuka loved to torment every single babysitter you got her. You found the highest quality Nannies, and not one of them could handle your little girl, she was an angel for you honestly, you couldn’t believe half of the stories they came up with.

She’s sitting over with a bunch of barbies, smiling up at you so pretty, your heart melts while your fingers pause on typing on the keyboard. “Are you okay honey, do you need another snack?”

“M’good mama!” She’s running up to you, letting a barbie kiss your cheek now, you laugh softly.

With Yuuka, you’re not a stern business woman like you have to be in the world, to be taken seriously as it’s run by nothing but men. You can be yourself. You get a call then, and it’s your secretary on the line. Yuuka runs back over to the corner with her tablet, sitting on the soft blankets you brought with you.

“Yes?”

“I have a Mr. Nanami here to see you, are you available?” You blink a bit at that, curiously checking your schedule.

“Hmm, I don’t have a meeting scheduled. Does he want me to do marketing for him?”

“I’m not sure, but he’s hot.”

“Oh god,” your secretary whispers it on the phone, she loves to try to get you with someone, all worried that you’re alone since you split with your ex. “You’re such an instigator. Send him in, then.”

She practically maniacally laughs, buzzing him into your office, lit by the wide open floor to ceiling windows, you’re up in a high rise in the city, a beautiful view. When he walks in, he takes in the surroundings for the briefest of moments, a perfectly immaculate office, paintings on the walls, your desk is organized and a cherry wood, but one thing stands out.

Well, two things.

The adorable kid in the corner, full of colorful blankets, books and toys, smiling at him, and she looks just like a miniature version of the girl sitting at the desk – you. You’re standing up, fingers pressed against the desk, wearing a sleek business suit just tailored to your body. Your hair is pinned up perfectly, not a strand loose, red lipstick standing out and matching the color of your blazer.

He falters, he’s here for an interview, and the last thing he needs to do is be rude or disrespectful, hitting on you or flirting with you would be out of the question, and unlike him. He hardly can remember why he came here for a second, stunned by you when you walk up to him and shake your hand, imposing presence despite the fact that you have to look up at him.

“How can I help you, Mr. Nanami?” His eyes drift over to the girl again, he waves to her and she waves back. “She’s a good kid, don’t worry, we can still talk business. Have a seat.”

Nanami sits right in front of you, your eyes try not to linger on his strong chest in that pale blue dress shirt, he’s wearing a suit just a little baggy, as if he’s so big he needed to size up. Or maybe, comfort you imagine, curiously sitting now and eyeing the bright print tie, stark contrast to his black pinstripe, before flitting over to his face.

He is handsome, your secretary was completely accurate, so handsome you get nervous - you - usually immune to any man’s charms, one to make grown men cry actually. After your ex decided to be the shitty person he was, you had no issue kicking him out of your penthouse once you got the strength, the last thing Yuuka needed was to see a terrible, toxic relationship.

But your tummy flutters as he adjusts his tie, as if he’s a little nervous too, he’s so broad he just takes over your chair altogether, yet he seems sweet, his hazel eyes crinkling at the corners when Yuuka runs up. “Here!”

She’s handed him a barbie now, his lips quirk up a bit, and you giggle. The sound is not normal around anyone but your daughter, but it catches his attention immediately, looking over at the sweet little noise. You cover your mouth now, while she explains the story between the barbie dolls, they’ve apparently had a fight.

“Yuuka honey, mommy has to work. We can play later.” She pouts now.

“Wanna play!”

“Don’t give me that look,” she knows how to play it already, cute little pout and her pretty eyes. “Yuuka…”

“She’s perfectly fine,” he murmurs with ease, before tugging out a packet of papers, handing it over. “I’m actually here regarding the position you offered.”

“Oh? Oh! The nanny position!” You peer at his resume, raising your eyebrows at his recommendations, he even had certification.

“A ‘manny’ I guess.” His humor surprises you, glint in his gaze that makes you laugh again.

“Mommy’s laughing! That’s good!” Yuuka is bouncing up and down, Nanami ruffles her hair and chuckles.

“Does mommy need to laugh more often?” You heat up a bit when Yuuka nods, and he looks at you carefully.

“Mommy is just very busy, and a little stressed.” You answer, and he sees it then, the tension in your shoulders, he can’t imagine running a company could be easy for you.

The thought of rubbing said tense shoulders catches him off guard, he instantly shoves that thought back, while playing with Yuuka now. “Is the position still open?”

“It absolutely is, um… Nanami, what got you into childcare?”

“I had to grow up really quick,” your heart hurts then at that, you blink back tears for a man you barely know, who’s just getting along perfectly with your daughter, who tortures people for fun. “I don’t want any kid to have to do that, so I thought I’d try to keep the kid spirit alive.”

“Oh…” You damn near fight crying at how sweet that is, peering further at his resume, you recognize some of the names as fellow colleagues. “You’re a regular Mary Poppins, huh?”

“Mary Poppins?” He laughs with you, you pull him up on your computer and scroll to see he has gushing reviews.

“Super Nanny, gosh look at all this.” You’re reading more of his reviews, Nanami’s cheeks are decorated red at your praise.

“I just have a way with kids I guess.”

“Clearly, she’s a menace.”

“Am not!” You stick your tongue out, and so does she, he can’t help but shake his head, hiding another smile behind his hand.

“You look just like your mama you know.”

“She really does.” You mention, checking his background information he’d included for you.

“Mommy’s pretty.” Yuuka is sweet sometimes, you gotta admit, you look at her and thank her, until she turns to Nanami. “Isn’t she pretty?”

“Oh, Yuuka don’t ask that!”

“She is very lovely,” Nanami’s words do something to your heart, fluttering in your chest faster now.

“See!” She’s mischievously giggling.

Lovely who even says lovely.

Why’s it so sweet!?

His salary request is very high, but you don’t mind at all, in fact you’d pay him more than that if he could help out and not run away from your daughter. Her pranks are ridiculous, you’ve gotta hope she’ll behave. “If you can handle her, I’ll hire you - and give you a hefty bonus if you make it a month. Your monthly salary doubled.”

“You really think I won’t make it a month?” He’s raising a brow, you shake your head and sigh when he looks at Yuuka. “Are you that scary, Yuuka?”

“I am sweet, they were mean!”

“They were so not mean.”

“Mhmm!”

“Well, I’m not mean.” She’s clinging to his arm, far too cute, making you melt into a damn puddle at work.

“You’re hired!”

“Yuuka, I do that,” you cross your arms, your daughter is about as bossy as you, to a fault. “Nanami, you’re hired.”

“Perfect, I’m always up for a challenge. When do I start?”

“Like, now.”

“Now!?”

*****

Nanami is such a miracle worker, truly. In one week with Yuuka, she’s been completely sweet, no pranks or fits! In fact, when she does decide to get a little bratty with you, Nanami gently chides her. You find yourself working from home more often, wanting to be near them both, enjoying the presence far, far too much.

You enjoy Nanami, sure, but mostly you love seeing how he is with her, how she brightens and opens up more and more every day. He’s worth all that expensive salary and then some, with the amount of work you’re able to get done - right down to him helping cook you dinner. That’s not what you asked at all, but you typically order out or heat up something with your schedule.

Exhausted, you came home Friday to him cooking, wearing a little white apron you’ve never tried on, it barely fit him. You thought maybe you were in some day dream, imagine anyone cooking for you, let alone him. Yuuka was helping him stir eggs up, standing on a little pink step stool next to him. When they hear you walk in they both turn your direction.

“I’m hallucinating, a home cooked meal for me?” You’re slipping off your heels, Nanami tells Yuuka to keep stirring, walking toward you then, looking far too attractive in that damn apron over his dress shirt and slacks.

“You need to be taken care of too,” his words are soft, he notices then what he’s said, clearing his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s too much.”

“No, it’s… really sweet, um…” Again, confident and never afraid, Nanami turns your brain to mush standing in front of you. “I want to cook more, I want to be able to do that with her. And you there will just… make it better.”

“Then come on, I’ll show you some things. You can’t live on coffee.” He takes your hand, just a little coated in flour, the warmth spreading. Your eyes lock for a moment, neither of you speak, before you follow him over.

“I also drink wine you know,” you tie an apron on, winking at him. He shakes his head and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You can’t live on just that, either. Yuuka that’s really good, you’re a pro.”

“Yay! Mommy come here!” You soon are helping the two of them in the kitchen - it’s too easy, too comfortable. Something about it instead of just being fun, was touching you deeply, the more you fall into the easy rhythm.

That’s something you never had.

You try to remember, it’s just his career, something he loves to do, and not think that much into it, but having someone care for you? Worry about you? Even if it was mere kindness, it felt good, so good it was hard to focus on cooking, and Nanami is in front of you, a hand gently touching the small of your back. You gasp, realizing the bottom is sticking, stirring it around now.

“Oh! Sorry, I was spaced out,” he takes your hand, moving the spatula slowly. “Ah, I was doing too much.”

“You’re doing just fine, you’re so tired I’m surprised you’re standing.” You hear his concern, while he’s standing too close to you, you inhale that expensive cologne, enjoying his nearness.

“You think I’m that tired?” You turn your chin, looking up at him, he leans over and turns the burner down, before studying you intensely, like no one has ever looked at you before.

Like he knows you more than you do.

“You may look beautiful with dark circles, but that’s a sign you’re doing too much, not sleeping enough.”

Beautiful.

You blink a bit, turning your body to where you all are too close, Yuuka is in the living room on the other side of the wall, watching her show. Your heart pounds in your chest when he runs a thumb under your eyes, the coolness feeling far too good, you sigh at the sensation.

“I worked myself to death before,” he murmurs, swiping underneath your eyes gently, they flutter shut at how good it feels, listening to him. “I never will again, no amount of money is worth it.”

“I have so many responsibilities, you’re helping so much, truly.”

“Instead of working more because of me, maybe you can try to enjoy your life a little? I know it’s not my place, I know she’s who I’m here to care for. But you’re her mom, you know? She loves you so much.” You step back, hands on his wrists while they sit just an inch from your skin, and the two of you freeze there.

He’s said too much, he worries now – that he should’ve kept quiet, but how does he not see how much you’re suffering with the amount of work you do? Doing the job of ten people, barely able to walk when you come through that door, yawning constantly and downing ten espressos a day.

In a week he’s already grown to care for both of you, and it’s scary just how much he enjoys this. He doesn’t want it to end because he’s put too much out there.

“I shouldn’t-”

“You’re right.”

“I am?” You sigh, nodding, and he exhales in relief. “Then let me help you, we’ll cook together, and you’ll eat a good dinner every night I’m here.”

“Yes, sir.” You’re teasing but that fucks him up, to the point it takes a lot not to kiss you, press you against that counter, kiss the red lipstick off your mouth.

He doesn’t say it of course, quickly going back to cooking, quiet for a moment. “Come here, I’m going to show you how to properly make noodles, yours are awful.”

“Hey now!”

“You overcook them to mush.”

“Rude!” You’re so fucking happy though, cooking next to him, thankful he exists.

*****

Soon you do enjoy cooking more, and you can’t help but show off your skills, but many times Nanami would have to go home quickly after eating. He did not like overtime, even if he enjoyed you all very much, he’d always peer at his rolex at the exact same time every day. You couldn’t help but enjoy those little quirks about him more and more as the time passed.

“Nanami, stay and watch a movie with us,” you mention one night, when he’s already about to slip on his jacket. “Need me to pay you overtime?”

“Nonsense,” he falters then, however, the more time he spends, the more he feels, and being closer to you is difficult. He doesn’t want to cross that line with you, blur them, whatsoever, but it’s almost impossible the more time he spends. “I just don’t want to impose.”

“Not at all, we’d love to have you watch a movie,” you pat the couch and smile at him. “Maybe a glass of wine?”

“One.” He agrees, his cheekbones jutting out as he tenses his face at your grin, far too pretty, making his heart race when you jump up, Yuuka is bouncing up and down.

“Nanami is staying!”

“He is, let’s make snacks!”

Soon he’s got Yuuka curled up on his lap, you on the other side of him, a bowl of half full popcorn sitting right in front of you all on the table. “She likes you more than me, no fair.”

“She does not,” he’s chuckling, a hand on your thigh now, you feel your body react to the easy touch, it’s nothing inappropriate, it’s casual. But it’s too much, especially when you look down at his hand. “She loves you.”

“I know,” you put your hand over his, seeing the crazy difference in size, if the man doesn’t have the biggest hands. You peer and see Yuuka is snoring, her little arms around his neck. “Oh, I should put her to bed.”

“I’ve got it.” He stands with her, cradling her to his chest now, she blinks the sleep from her eyes and yawns. “Say good night to mommy.”

“Night mommy.” She mumbles, you stand and kiss her cheek.

“Night sweet girl.” You pick up the remote, pausing the movie, grabbing the bowl of popcorn on the table and the glasses, taking them to the kitchen.

You’re rinsing the dishes when Nanami walks by, seeing you still in your business skirt and blouse, a little untucked from the waistband. He tries to avoid the natural feeling of wanting to tug your waist to him, to press little kisses along your neck, this was a reason he usually left. You thought it was overtime, and he let you think just that, but it wasn’t even close.

The more time he spends, the more it feels like a family, the thought terrifies him. Nanami was a professional, always, the entirety of his career, he prided himself on just that. Yet something clicked that never has, leading to the worst thoughts, imagining taking you right there, slipping your skirt up, wondering just how badly you needed the release he could give you.

“You just gonna burn holes in my back, Kento?” You’ve never said his first name, and the way it sounds on your lips?

Fuck.

“You have eyes in the back of your head?” He teases, you look over your shoulder while you rinse a cup. “Want help?”

“You do enough around here.”

“I don’t mind any of it at all.” You relax a bit hearing it, he comes over and rolls up his sleeves – and you damn near drop what you’re washing, when you see those veiny, strong forearms up close. “Here, I’ll dry them.”

“Thank you,” he stands so tall next to you, his scent fucking up any good sense you have left. “Would you like to make this a thing? A movie night?”

“Would you like that?” His tone is husky, the desire is hot in your tummy when his gaze flits over to you.

“We both would. I’m sure you have a life, um… maybe you date? But if you wouldn’t mind once a week. I really liked it.”

“I am not seeing anyone.”

“Oh.”

“Do you? See anyone?” He tries to make it sound casual, easy, but he is furious for some reason about picturing you with anyone. It’s terrible, everything he’s thinking of doing to you – a man so composed.

“Ah, no, my ex has put me off dating forever maybe.”

“He never comes around, does he?” You suck in a breath, shaking your head, he finishes putting the dishes up, leaning a hip on the counter, you do the same. “Why not? Is he an idiot?”

“He is an idiot,” you laugh softly, but he’s very serious. “Um, he was… not nice to me… mentally, physically.”

“Fuck I’m so sorry,” he cups your face carefully, you blink back tears but fail, crying about it for maybe the first time since he left. “Come here.”

He’s tugged you against his hard chest, warm and inviting, big arms wrapping your body now, a hand affectionately on your head as you let it go. The pain of thinking about back then, thinking how you let him run you over, so different from who you are now, it’s too much. It’s too perfect in his arms, like you never want to leave, crying against his fancy shirt.

“Sorry, shit…”

“Don’t be,” he’s stroking your hair, a mix of emotions making his throat tighten. He wants to hold you, comfort you – but also anger at whoever would lay a hand on you, or not give a fuck about his own kid. “I’m sorry someone hurt you. I promise if I saw him, he sure the fuck wouldn’t be able to say a word.”

“Kento!” You giggle through your tears, surprised by him. “I thought you were a gentle giant, what’s this?”

“Gentle with you two, sure, he wouldn’t want to fight me though.” You see it now, a little fiery personality under those layers of calm, he can’t help but smile with you, brushing your hair back. “If you ever feel unsafe and he’s trying to come around, you can always call me or tell me.”

“You don’t have to do half of the things you do,” you look up under lashes dripping with tears, sniffling just a bit. Nanami exhales, just a breath away from your lips, you can almost taste him. “I really appreciate you. I’m not sure I can explain just how much.”

Your hand rests on his chest, where his heart is pounding steadily against your palm. It’s quiet, no sounds but the whirling of the fan over your heads, the sounds of your breaths intermingling. He’s got his lips close, too close, hands slipping down the sides of your waist.

You’re scared to let anyone in, especially someone that seems so perfect – you’re not at all, despite how you come across at times, you don’t have it all together really. Nanami sees that messier side of you, the exhausted mom running on nothing, and for once you can really let that side show in his presence, not hide it.

“I appreciate you,” he whispers, far, far too close now, you lower your gaze to his lips, thin upper lip but the poutiest lower one, just a little glossy when he runs his tongue along them. “I’m loving being here, I don’t want anything to ruin it.”

“I don’t either,” you realize you’re leaning in, just as he is, tilting your chin up with two fingers. “You really think I’m beautiful with dark circles, huh?”

He scoffs a bit, smiling down at you. “You’re just beautiful, dark circles or not. They’ve gotten a little better.”

“That’s because of you,” he shuts his eyes for a moment, fighting it, the instinct to kiss you, to kiss every part of you, but you’re looking too prettily up at him, ending his resolve, he grabs your hips and tugs you to him, making you gasp. “Kento…”

“You’re calling me by my first name,” he whispers, his straight nose just barely nuzzling yours, it’s hard to breathe suddenly, suffocating on the energy, the desire. “Do you like to call me that, darling?”

“Darling…” You’re blushing, so prettily then, he rubs your overheated cheeks, his hazel eyes lidded, those blond lashes lowered, casting shadows on the hard planes of his cheekbones. “I might like that too much.”

“Oh?” You nod, leaning up, when you hear it – Yuuka rushing down the stairs. You two quickly part, both blushing messes, and she’s running to Nanami, hugging his pant leg now.

“Nanami, forgot to say bye!” He smiles, brushing her hair gently and smiling, a tired little smile directed at you.

“Don’t go yet, I have something,” you shake it off – the tension, the desire – remembering who he is, why he’s here. And how much you appreciate him. You grab the envelope, handing it to him, Yuuka comes to hug your waist now, you pull her to your side. “Just a thank you.”

“This is too much…” He frowns now, you already pay his truly high salary, but the bonus is ridiculous. “It’s just been a couple weeks…”

“It’s been plenty of time. I just want you to know how much it means to me,” you trail off, blinking rapidly. “Um, having you here with us.”

“Of course,” he shakes his head, trying to hand it back to you. “It’s really too generous, ridiculous even.”

“Please, just keep it. We’ll have another movie night, right?” He smiles, nodding to Yuuka’s delight, before coming up and kissing her head tenderly, then pressing a little kiss on your temple before he can think better of it. Your heart aches, the gesture so precious while you hold your daughter in your arms.

“I’ll see you beauties tomorrow morning.” He’s off quickly now, Yuuka snuggles against your neck, her little hands gripping your blouse.

“Mama, I love him.” She says, you barely hold it back, the longing for more, the emotions of your daughter loving someone, to have a man that truly cares.

You can hardly stand to think it’ll end one day.

“I’m so glad, baby. Let’s go to sleep.”

When you are in bed, you toss and turn, remembering the heat of his body against yours, the sweet breath on your lips, so worked up for the first time in years truly. Your ex really did a number on you, and these thoughts weren’t in your head at all – it was business, and your daughter – there was no room for anything else, until Nanami.

Little do you know, he’s picturing you in his bed at the same time, yet he’s not as composed as you, he’s lost his composed nature in fact, trying to feel terribly guilty for jerking off to the thought of you.

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unicornsandpugs · 11 days ago

Text

A New Perspective

Pairing: Reed Richards x Journalist f!reader

Summary: You interview Reed. He teaches you about his stress management techniques.

Warnings: MDNI, NSFW, smut, unprotected PinV (wrap it up kids), oral female receiving, hand stuff, the whole shebang really, PWP

I have never and will never use AI for my writing. Please do not put my work into AI, thank you!

- - - -

The brief your boss had given you was to expose. To dig deep. Get personal.

It was your biggest assignment yet, a chance to make a name for yourself. The responsibility of interviewing one of, if not the most famous person in the world didn’t come lightly.

You sat in the front seat of your beat up coupe car, taking deep breaths in… and out. You had this.

They’d picked you for a reason. Your way with words. Your journalistic prowess. That’s what you kept telling yourself anyway.

You grabbed your worn burgundy leather handbag from the passenger seat and with one final grounding exhale, exited the car.

As you stood, you adjusted your dark grey pinstripe pencil skirt, pulling it down so the slit running up the back sat at a respectable height. Your hands gently re-tucked the bottom of your black silk blouse which had slipped out of your waistband.

That was enough procrastinating. It was time.

You looked up the vast shaft of the Baxter Building, making your way to the entrance. The intimidating height and impeccable modern design made you feel small and insignificant.

The sound of your stilettos clicked along the marble floor as you approached the receptionist, a kind looking lady in her 50s. The sound ceased as you stilled and smiled over the futuristic desk at her.

“Good morning, I’m here to interview Dr Richards, I believe he is expecting me.”

“Certainly miss, he is ready for you now. I’ll contact his assistant to take you up to him. Please feel free to take a seat,” she replied in a professional tone as she started dialling a number on the desk phone.

You lowered yourself into a modern white high-back chair, taking the opportunity to review your notes.

You removed your scuffed leather-bound notebook from your handbag. It had accompanied you to every interview you’d conducted, it was as much a lucky charm as it was a writing utensil. As you placed it gently on your lap, the notebook fell open at the ribbon marked page.

Reed Richards - “Mister Fantastic”

> Family man

> Hero

> Protector

> Role model

> Symbol of hope

> Leader

A recent focus group’s words to describe the man you would be meeting imminently. They taunted you, building him into a legend, an idea.

You glanced over the questions you had drafted below, rehearsing them in your head.

The sound of footsteps broke your concentration, as a skinny, tall brunette man approached you with a welcoming smile and an open palm. Your name fell from his lips in greeting as he introduced himself as Dr Richards’ assistant. “It’s lovely to meet you in person finally, Dr Richards is ready for you now. I’ll bring you up to his office.”

“Likewise, and thank you. How is he today?” you asked sweetly with a smile, as you both started to walk towards the elevator.

How is he today? It was a simple question which you found could tell you more than an hour-long interview could. It was your party trick. It gave context to your subject’s answers, and helped you to read between lines.

“He’s very well thank you, though it’s a particularly stressful time for him given the importance of his research at the moment,” the assistant answered, his voice lowering slightly as he offered the information to you like a secret.

“Of course, saving the world sounds like a stressful responsibility,” you answered with a casual laugh, aiming to disarm him.

“And a responsibility is exactly how he sees it. The weight of it is immense, it’s a level of stress I don’t think we could comprehend,” his assistant continued, sounding equal parts worried for, and in awe of his boss. “That kind of stress can seep into all areas of your life,” he added cryptically as the elevator dinged and the glass doors opened onto the 20th floor.

You followed as his assistant directed you towards a heavy wooden door. He knocked sharply twice, immediately met with a deep “Come in.”

He turned to you with a small smile, “This is where I leave you, good luck.” You thanked him and rested your hand on the brass handle, gently pushing down. The door opened to reveal the vast, lived-in, intimate office of the smartest man in the universe.

Despite the complex mathematical equations scribbled over the chalkboard walls, and the high-tech equipment scattered across the space, it felt warm and welcoming.

You’d been so distracted observing your environment, you hadn’t noticed your interviewee’s gaze taking you in. His eyes danced over your form, from your profile to your heels.

You turned and focused your attention on the man in question, who was rounding his desk, taking wide strides towards you. His focus didn’t waver from your face, a kind smile graced his classically-handsome face and he extended his hand (and arm) towards you, showing off his incredible power as if it was a party trick.

You shook his hand gently with a chuckle, his calloused hand felt warm in yours. Your gaze held his for a beat too long.

“It’s so lovely to meet you Dr Richards,” you said trying to sound confident. He was even more gorgeous in person than you were expecting. “Our readers are highly anticipating this article on you.”

“Please, call me Reed. And it’s lovely to meet you too, please take a seat,” he said in his smooth, deep voice, pointing to a chair across from his desk.

You positioned yourself across from the broad-shouldered genius, as he lowered himself back into this desk chair.

“I’m sure you’re used to interviews by now, you probably don’t need the pointers?” Your tone was light and jovial, hoping to skip past the formalities.

“Indeed, and just a warning, there aren’t many questions I haven’t been asked already,” he replied with humour laced in his voice.

“Noted. I’ll bring my A-game then,” you rebutted with a smirk.

You pulled a travel recorder from your bag and placed it on the large mahogany desk, clicking the start button.

“We’ll start with an easy one… as the smartest being in the universe you’re best placed to answer this. What is the meaning of life?”

The wrinkles around Reed’s eyes deepened as he let out a genuine laugh. “I haven’t been asked that question before actually.”

He took a moment to think, the refreshing question actually making his brain work hard, he was used to having all the answers.

His eyes met yours, something deep and introspective swirling in them. “Love,” he said seriously. “Without it, what’s the point?”

You smiled at the answer, a cliche, but a sweet one. “That’s a beautiful answer.”

“It’s an honest one.”

“What kind of love? Romantic?”

“Not necessarily, love can mean many things.”

“Give me an example.”

“Love to me is family.”

“Sue?”

“Of course, among others.”

The conversation ping-ponged, like a game, a challenge. He was closed off. You need to redirect.

“If there’s one job that could turn your hair grey, it’s saving the world… how do you deal with the stress?”

“Distraction,” he answered quickly, without missing a beat.

“Can you elaborate on that?”

“Clearing the mind and then refocusing. The new perspective can be a game-changer.”

“And how do you distract yourself?” you asked evenly, the questions and answers were still short. You needed to find an in.

Reed coughed, his cheeks acquired a slight pink dusting. “Many ways… exercise, art to name a few.”

You needed to dig deeper. The shift in his tone interested you. The cracks were starting to show.

“Interesting… when’s the last time you successfully distracted yourself? In a way that resulted in a game-changing new perspective?”

Reeds eyes avoided yours. His gaze lowered, for a second you thought he looking over your body, but you were convinced you must have imagined it. He quickly snapped his gaze away, towards the equations which littered the walls.

“That’s difficult to say.”

“I think you’re avoiding the question.” You were bullish, you hadn’t got to where you are today without stepping a little too close to the line.

Reeds eyes snapped to yours, his eyebrow raised slightly in surprise.

“It’s private.”

“Sexual?” You said the word on instinct, lost in the game of it all. You also wondered if that particular word was on your mind because of the handsome man sat only 3 feet away.

Reed spluttered a cough. He sat up straighter in his chair, leaning over his desk slightly as he spoke to you in a low voice.

“That is incredibly inappropriate.”

You faltered slightly. Shit. You had taken it too far. You’d gotten swept up in the back and forth, your competitive side wanting to ‘win’.

In a smaller voice you whispered out your apologies. “Sorry Dr Richards, I’m not sure what came over me.”

He shook his head “It’s fine, I um… can I speak off the record?”

You nodded quickly and paused the recorder “Of course, I’m so sorry Dr Richards, I hope we can continue the interview. I will wipe this from the recording.”

“Of course we can continue, sorry I’m not used to things getting that personal. You have a talent for finding the truth, I can tell.”

Your eyebrows drew together slightly at his ambiguous comment. Did he mean you were right? You were still talking off the record, for your own selfish reasons you wanted to push.

“So it was?”

“Was what?”

“Sexual.”

Reed looked at you, really looked at you. You could see he was fighting an internal battle, was he really going to confirm your theory?

“Off the record?”

“Of course,” you answered as you made a point to show the recorder which displayed a pause symbol.

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Warmth bubbled in your abdomen. “With Sue?”

“Jesus, do you have an off button?”

“Sorry.”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

“People tell me things, I think I have a face people trust,” you offered with a chuckle, “that’s my superpower”.

“Yes, your face is… trustworthy.” The words sounded heavy.

“So not Sue…”

“I need distractions… often. We have an agreement.”

“I see.” Your thighs squeezed together.

He noticed. It sent his blood rushing south, he shifted in his seat.

“How do you distract yourself?” He asked, wanting to confirm if his suspicions were correct.

“I don’t like to distract myself, I like to experience everything I think. The good and the bad,” you said honestly. “I like to be present”.

“When did you last distract yourself?”

“I don’t— oh.” You gulped in realisation at what his question actually meant. “Quite a while ago”.

“That’s a shame,” Reed said, his voice was lower now, carrying a gravelly tone that wasn’t present before. “I’m sure you know about my research at the moment.”

“Of course, it’s incredibly important.” You gulped, unsure where the conversation was going, the depth and cadence of his voice had shifted significantly.

“Yes it is. It’s incredibly stressful.”

Oh.

“I can only imagine.” You couldn’t believe this was happening. “I suppose a new perspective could be beneficial?”

Reeds pupils dilated, his cock twitched at the insinuation. His arm began to stretch, discretely travelling around the grand desk, unnoticed by you. As his hand reached the hem of your skirt, you let out a sharp gasp of shock and excitement.

“A new perspective would be very beneficial,” he whispered as his fingers travelled up your thigh.

You sucked in a breath as his long fingers gently stroked over your wetness, which was thinly concealed by a pair of black lace panties.

“Is this ok?” Reed asked gently, his desperate eyes holding contact with yours.

You nodded eagerly “Yes,” you breathed out, wanting him to apply more pressure to the increasingly damp patch.

His elongated fingers gently moved the lace aside, finally making contact with where you wanted him the most.

“Fuck… you’re so wet already.”

“Oh…” you breathed out shakily as his extended fingers started to stroke through your silky folds. They found your bud of nerves easily and with small, circular motions applied pressure. Your hips bucked upwards, begging for more.

Reed stood and rounded the desk, without halting his movements. He easily used his other arm, elongated, to lift you and place you onto his sturdy wooden desk.

He crowded you, slotting his thighs between yours. Your face was now inches away from his, giving you the chance to map every line and freckle.

“I’ve wanted to touch you ever since you walked through my door in this tight skirt.”

You whimpered in response.

“I’ve wanted to taste you ever since you sat across from me.”

“Taste me then,” you encouraged.

His lips met yours in a crushing, electric kiss, his lips massaging your own skilfully.

You pulled apart from each other panting and flushed. His fingers finally halted their ministrations and returned to their normal size.

“Take your skirt off,” he instructed, his voice desperate and begging “there’s somewhere else I’ve wanted to taste.”

You shimmied your skirt and panties down your legs, letting them fall in a heap at your feet.

Reed lowered himself between your open legs, leaving small kisses up the curve of your thigh teasingly. Finally, his mouth met your core, eliciting a deep moan from you.

His tongue dragged a firm, hot, wet stripe from your entrance to your clit. “Fuck.” He groaned out and he started to lap you up “You taste so sweet, just how I imagined,” he continued and hummed contently, the vibrations causing you to shiver and whimper.

His lips closed over your pink bundle of nerves, sucking and licking artfully. Electric shot through you, your hands flying to his hair on instinct.

Then, you felt his warm tongue breach your entrance, licking into you. The sensation was intense, as his tongue stretched into you, fitting itself into your most intimate area.

His large elongated tongue then started to curve rhythmically against your silky warm walls. The sensation was indescribable, pure pleasure spreading throughout your entire body. Moans and curses fell from your flushed lips as the feeling built steadily, thick.

“Reed… oh fuck… don’t stop… that feels…” You cried out with a deep moan as your abdomen clenched, your body felt light and fuzzy as your orgasm overtook you. Reed drank everything you gave him.

As you came down from your daze, you saw Reed unzipping his trousers and dragging them down his legs, along with his underwear.

“Take your top off, I need to see you,” he said in a breathy but demanding tone.

You fumbled with your buttons hurriedly, the silky material of your blouse floating down your arms. You leaned back onto your elbows, staring up at him now in only a black lace bra.

“Beautiful,” Reed said, his voice filled with adoration and need.

Only then did you notice his cock. It was big, thick, corded with veins. You couldn’t tell if he had elongated it, or if the size was all him. It was stood to attention, the tip reddened and glistening with pre-cum.

His fist pumped his shaft slowly as he took in the sight of you laid before him.

One of his arms extended, travelling behind you and undoing your bra clasp. You lowered the cups and pulled it down your arms, baring yourself to him fully. Naked bar your heeled pumps.

Reed let out an animalistic groan as his gaze locked in on your tits, immediately ceasing his actions and bringing both of his hands up to explore them.

“You’re so perfect,” he murmured lowly.

As he took one of your hardened peaks between his fingers, squeezing and rolling it delicately, you moaned loudly.

He left kisses all over the curve of your breasts, finally reaching your unattended nipple, sucking it into his mouth. His teeth dragged over the bud tenderly, the sensation sending shocks of pleasure to your core. You were dripping.

Reed gently removed himself from you, taking one last look up and down your body as he held his large cock in his hand. He guided it towards your entrance, stroking the silken tip through your folds a few times, catching your clit and spreading your wetness.

He lined-up his tip with your entrance. As he started to slowly push in, your hands grabbed onto his forearms, grounding yourself.

When he reached the hilt, you felt so full, however the feeling was abruptly interrupted as you started to feel an ineffable sensation, something entirely new. He was expanding.

“You’re doing so well for me, you’ll adjust.” You looked up at him with scared but pleading eyes. You felt tears gathering along your lash line at the sensation. You felt like you were being split in two.

After a few moments, the pain morphed into a dull ache and you nodded up at him. He gently started thrusting in and out of you, the ache transforming into pleasure quickly.

As he felt you relax he sped up gradually, eventually pounding into you hard and fast, finding that spongy spot inside you with every snap of his hips.

His hands found yours, and he pinned your arms above your head. Your chests met with sweaty, hot contact. His lips met yours in messy passion and desperation, and his rhythm started to falter.

The fire that had been building low in you began to burn white hot. Curses left your mouth as you panted and your eyes rolled backwards as the feeling of pure ecstasy began to wash over you. Your second orgasm hit you harder and you cried out, clenching around him.

Reed whimpered at the added pressure and through sharp breaths whispered “fuck, fuck, fuck…” like a mantra.

He quickly pulled out and you held his gaze as he pumped ropes and ropes of warm white cum across your abdomen and tits with a loud, husky groan.

He took a step back and inhaled deeply as you stared up at him still in a daze.

“That was incredible. Are you ok?” he asked gently, as he moved to pick up your bra and blouse for you, also grabbing you some tissues from his desk.

You let out a light laugh, your mind still cloudy with pleasure. “I’m fantastic.”

Reed laughed softly and handed you your clothing as you both started to re-dress.

As you were buttoning up your blouse you turned to him “So… are you feeling less stressed? Did you get your new perspective?”

You met his gaze as he pulled his shirt back on, it hung open, baring his toned golden chest.

“Definitely, you might have just helped save the world,” he said, humour dancing in his words.

“I am feeling quite heroic,” you continued, glad things hadn’t turned awkward. “I’d be willing to help you de-stress again in the future, you know, for the sake of the planet.”

One side of his mouth lifted “I’d like that,” he replied, something deeper swimming in his tone.

When both of you were fully dressed, Reed moved to sit back into his desk chair.

“Right… I believe we have an interview to finish,” he said, as he reached across the desk and clicked the start button of your recorder.

- - - -

If you’ve made it this far… thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it, this was my first attempt at writing smut arghhh but those reed magazine covers had me inspired

Any comments or feedback are appreciated!

574 notes · View notes

vividseoultales · 2 months ago

Text

Next Applicant ( Winter x Male Reader )

tags : fluff smut

"Next applicant, please come in" you said, glancing up from your desk as the door to the office swung open. You were surprised to see her, the girl from your past, standing there with a tentative smile.

Her name was Winter, and she looked nothing like the shy, bookish girl you had once known. Gone were the oversized sweaters and messy buns; in their place was a sharp, tailored blazer and hair that fell in soft waves around her shoulders.

The moment your eyes met, time seemed to slow down. Memories of stolen glances in crowded hallways and awkward conversations at the school library rushed through your mind, leaving you momentarily speechless. "Hi," she said, her voice unchanged by the years, "I'm here for the interview."

You swallowed hard, trying to compose yourself. "Winter," you managed to say, your voice sounding foreign in your ears. "It's been a long time." She nodded, her smile widening slightly. "Too long," she replied. You felt a strange mix of excitement and dread, unsure of how to navigate this unexpected encounter.

As she took a seat across from you, you couldn't help but notice the confidence that radiated from her. Her posture was straight, her eyes clear and focused. The girl who used to blend into the background was now someone who commanded attention without saying a word.

"I-I-I'm sorry," you stuttered, trying to recover from the shock. "Let's start again, shall we?" You cleared your throat and shuffled through the papers on your desk, searching for her application. "Winter, let's get started."

Winter sat with poise, her hands folded neatly in her lap. You quickly scanned her resume, noticing her impressive list of qualifications and work experiences. "So, tell me about yourself," you began, attempting to sound professional.

She spoke with an eloquence that surprised you, detailing her academic achievements and work history with ease. As she talked, you found yourself drawn in by her words, the sound of her voice, and the way she carried herself. It was clear that she had grown into a woman of substance, someone who knew what she wanted and how to get it.

With each question you asked, she responded thoughtfully and articulately, showcasing a depth of knowledge and experience that impressed you. You couldn't help but feel a little intimidated by her poise, so unlike the girl who had once shared your awkwardness. Yet, beneath her professional veneer, you caught glimpses of the person you had long ago crushed on.

As the interview was about to end, you blurted out, "You're hired," before you could even think to ask the standard final questions. You felt your face heat up as you realized what you'd just said. Clearly still flustered, you stumbled over your words, trying to recover. "I-I mean, I'll have to discuss it with the team, but I can't imagine they'd have any reservations."

Winter's smile grew slightly, and she nodded in understanding. "I appreciate that, thank you," she said graciously, rising from her seat. "It's been nice seeing you again." With a brief wave, she left the room, leaving you to wonder if you had just made the most significant hiring mistake of your career.

The door clicked shut behind her, and you slumped back in your chair, feeling both elated and overwhelmed. The first love of your life had shown up again, in the most unexpected way, and she was now going to be working alongside you. Memories of the times you would steal glances at her too shy and nervous to ever approach resurface.

You quickly gathered yourself, knowing that you needed to inform your team about the decision you'd made on a whim. As you walked into the conference room, the team looked at you expectantly, waiting for an update on the interviews. You took a deep breath, trying to maintain a semblance of professionalism, and announced that you had found the perfect candidate for the position.

"It's Winter," you said, trying to sound as neutral as possible. "Her background in marketing and management is excellent, and she's a great fit for our team dynamics." Your colleagues nodded, scribbling notes and discussing the decision among themselves.

The team had questions about her qualifications, which you fumbled through, but they were mostly satisfied. As the meeting concluded, you couldn't shake the feeling that you had just signed up for a tumultuous work life.

The first few days with Winter in the office were a blur of professionalism and awkwardness. You found yourself stealing glances at her, just as you had done in high school. She was a whirlwind of efficiency and creativity, always the first to arrive and the last to leave. The way she moved through the office, with a grace that seemed almost effortless, was captivating.

During team meetings, you sat across the table from her, feeling both thrilled and intimidated by her sharp intellect and poised demeanor. You noticed how she interacted with everyone with ease, her laughter ringing out occasionally, and how the team quickly grew to respect her. It was clear that she was going to be an asset to the company, and your attraction to her grew stronger with every passing moment.

Yet, deep down, you knew it was wrong to harbor these feelings for your employee. You were her supervisor, and there were boundaries to maintain. Plus, you had no idea if she even remembered you from those high school days, let alone felt anything for you now. You told yourself that you had to keep it professional, to not let your personal feelings interfere with her career trajectory or the dynamics of the workplace.

But on that particular night, when the office was emptier than usual and the fluorescent lights buzzed with a quiet intensity, you found yourself unable to resist. You had been working late together on a critical marketing project, both of you hunched over laptops and stacks of reports, trying to devise the perfect strategy. The clock had ticked past dinner time, and your stomach had started to protest.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed away from your desk and approached her cubicle. "Winter," you called out, trying to keep your voice steady. "Do you want to order dinner together? My treat." You hoped the offer didn't sound too forward, that she wouldn't read into it beyond two colleagues grabbing a bite to eat.

She looked up from her computer screen, the glow illuminating her face. "That sounds great," she said, a hint of surprise in her voice. "I was just about to order something anyway." You felt a small victory, a spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, she didn't see you as just her boss.

When the food arrived, you both made your way to the break area, the smell of Chinese takeout filling the small space. The office was almost deserted, the only sound the distant hum of the air conditioning. You set the containers down on the table and sat opposite her, awkwardly avoiding eye contact as the both of you began to unpack the food.

Winter broke the silence. "Thank you for this," she said, her voice warm. "It's nice to have some company." She glanced up and caught you staring. Your cheeks flushed, and you quickly looked away, trying to think of something to say. "So, how's the transition been?" you asked, hoping to steer the conversation to safer waters.

"It's been good," she replied, her eyes lighting up as she talked about her career path. "I've learned so much and met amazing people along the way." She paused, looking at you intently. "What about you? Did you always know you'd end up in this line of work?"

You took a bite of your lo mein, buying time to think. "Honestly, no," you admitted. "But I've grown to love it. It's challenging, but there's something about seeing a project come together that makes it all worth it."

Winter nodded, her eyes sparkling with understanding. "I know what you mean," she said. "I never thought I'd end up here either, but sometimes life has a way of leading you to the right place." She paused, her gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary before returning to her food.

As the evening progressed, the conversation flowed more naturally, and you found yourself sharing stories from your college days and early career mishaps. There was something about the way she listened, really listened, that made you feel like you could tell her anything. Her laugh was infectious, and the way she leaned in slightly when you talked made your heart race.

But you had to remind yourself that this was still your employee, and you had to maintain a professional distance. So, you steered the conversation back to work, discussing the project and the upcoming deadlines. Winter's insights and suggestions were invaluable, and you were reminded once again why you had been so impressed by her during the interview.

As the night grew later, you both found yourselves finishing up the last of the paperwork. You glanced at the clock on the wall, surprised to see that it was already nearing midnight. "Wow," you said, rubbing your eyes. "We've been at it for hours."

Winter looked up from her laptop and laughed, a little wearily. "Time flies when you're busy," she said, closing her computer with a satisfied click. She stretched her arms above her head, arching her back slightly. You felt your heart flutter at the sight.

"So, are you catching a cab home?" you asked, trying to sound casual. "It's pretty late."

Winter nodded, rubbing her eyes. "Yeah, I was planning on it."

You couldn't help but feel a surge of relief. "Well, I'm heading out too," you said, trying to sound nonchalant. "If it's okay with you, I can give you a ride home."

Winter's eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, you wondered if you had crossed a line. But then she smiled, a genuine smile that seemed to light up the room. "That would be great, thank you," she said, gathering her things. "I'd appreciate that."

The drive to her apartment was filled with the awkward pauses and forced small talk. You tried to keep the conversation focused on the present, asking her about her life in the city, but you couldn't help but steer it back to high school every few minutes. "Remember Mr. Thompson's English class?" you asked, hoping to spark a shared memory.

Winter's smile grew a little softer at the mention of the past. "I do," she said. "You were always sleep and he would hit you on the head for it."

You chuckled nervously, the tension in the car thickening. "I was never really smart like you, though," you admitted. "I used to sit there, watching you, thinking how amazing it was that you could understand all that literature stuff."

The words hung in the air, and you realized with a jolt that you had practically confessed to having feelings for her all those years ago. Panic set in, your heart racing. You waited for her reaction, expecting her to laugh it off or change the subject, but instead, she grew quiet, looking out the window.

The silence stretched out, taut as a wire, until she finally spoke. "I knew," she said softly. "I knew you had a crush on me, but I never knew what to do about it." Her voice was so low you had to strain to hear it over the sound of the engine.

You felt a rush of heat to your cheeks. "How?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. "How did you know?"

Winter turned to you, her gaze thoughtful. "It was the way you'd always look at me," she said. "Those quick glances when you thought I wasn't watching. And the way you'd stumble over your words whenever you talked to me. It was sweet, really." She paused, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "But it wasn't until Rachel, remember her? She told me that she heard you talking to Mike about me in the hallway one day. That's when I realized it might be more than just me being paranoid."

You felt your heart drop into your stomach. Rachel had been the school gossip, and now the secret you had held so tightly was out in the open. "I didn't know she knew," you murmured, feeling the weight of the past settle heavily on your shoulders. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable back then."

Winter turned to face you fully, her eyes searching yours. "Don't be," she said, her voice gentle. "It was a long time ago. Besides, I had my own crushes too." She paused for a moment, and you could see the wheels turning in her head. "But tell me, why didn't you ever say anything?"

You gripped the steering wheel tightly, trying to keep your hands from shaking. "I was too scared," you confessed. "You were so out of my league, and I didn't know how to approach you. Plus, I figured you had better things to do than hang out with someone like me."

Winter's smile grew sad. "Everyone felt that way in high school," she said. "But that's all in the past." Her words hung in the air, filled with a sense of finality that made your stomach drop.

You pulled up to her apartment building, the car idling at the curb. She unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to you. "Thank you for the ride, and for the dinner," she said, her voice sincere. "It's nice to catch up."

"Yeah," you agreed, your voice a little too high-pitched. "It's been a long time." You watched as she reached for the door handle, and your heart started to race. You didn't want the night to end, not with this unresolved tension between you. "Winter," you began, "I know this is weird, but would you maybe want to grab a drink sometime?"

Her eyes searched yours for a moment before she nodded. "Sure," she said, a smile playing on her lips. "It doesn't have to be anything formal. Just two friends catching up, right?"

You felt a rush of relief. "Exactly," you said, trying to keep your voice even. "Just friends."

Winter stepped out of the car, and you walked her to the entrance of her apartment building. The cool night air was a stark contrast to the warmth of the office, and you wished you could linger outside with her a little longer. But you knew you had to tread carefully. "How about this Friday?" you suggested. "After work?"

Her smile grew a little warmer. "That sounds perfect," she said, and with a wave, she disappeared into the building, leaving you feeling both hopeful and anxious.

Friday arrived with a mix of anticipation and dread. You had spent the week trying to keep things professional, but every interaction with Winter had felt charged with an underlying current of something more. You had chosen a casual bar a few blocks from the office, hoping the relaxed atmosphere would make the conversation flow easier.

When she walked into the dimly lit space, you couldn't help but feel your heart skip a beat. She was dressed in a simple black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, and her hair was swept back in a way that emphasized the sharpness of her cheekbones. She saw you and made her way over, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor.

You stood up to greet her, your palms sweaty despite the cool air conditioning. "You look amazing," you said, your voice betraying the nerves you felt.

Winter blushed slightly, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Thanks," she said, taking a seat across from you. "So, what's good here?"

You rattled off a few drink recommendations, trying to sound more suave than you felt. As the waiter took her order and left to fetch the drinks, you took a moment to study her. She had changed so much, yet there was something undeniably familiar about her. It was like looking at a photograph of your past that had come to life.

The conversation flowed more easily now that you were out of the office, the alcohol helping to loosen your inhibitions. You talked about movies, music, and the people you had lost touch with since high school. With every laugh and shared memory, the tension between you eased, and you found yourself falling for her all over again.

As the night grew darker outside the bar's windows, you both leaned in closer, your knees brushing against each other under the table. You felt a warmth spread through you, a feeling you hadn't experienced since those long-ago days of secret crushes and unrequited love.

Winter spoke animatedly about her travels post-college, her eyes lighting up as she recounted tales of exotic places and the people she had met. You listened intently, feeling the years melt away, as if you had been friends all along. Her stories were filled with humor and insight, and you found yourself hanging onto every word.

The drinks had loosened your tongue and eased the knots in your stomach, allowing you to finally relax in her presence. But as the hours passed, the alcohol began to take its toll. You realized with a start that you had had one too many and that driving home was out of the question. The weight of your decision to leave your car behind was a sudden sobering thought.

"Winter," you slurred slightly, "I don't think I should drive tonight."

She looked at you with a knowing smile, the same smile she had given you countless times in high school when you had stumbled over your words. "It's okay," she said, placing a gentle hand on your arm. "Why don't we both just grab an Uber?"

You nodded gratefully, relieved that she wasn't judging you for your mistake. You pulled out your phone and requested the ride, trying not to let your hand shake too much. While you waited, you talked about the weather, the office, and anything else that came to mind to fill the space between you.

When the Uber finally arrived, you opened the door for her, the cool night air hitting your face like a slap of reality. Before she could get in, you paused. "Winter," you said, the question you had been building up to all night finally escaping your lips. "Do you… do you want to come back to my apartment?" You held your breath, the words hanging in the air like a dare.

Her eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you thought she might say no. But then she nodded, a hint of excitement flashing across her face. "Okay," she said, closing the door to her uber.

You quickly told the driver that you'd pay for the ride, even if she didn't get in. As the Uber pulled away, the two of you were left standing on the sidewalk, the sound of its tires fading into the night. The realization of what you had just done washed over you, and you felt a mix of exhilaration and fear.

"Are you sure you don't mind?" she asked, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

You nodded, trying to hide your excitement. "Of course not," you replied, your voice a little too eager. "It's the least I can do."

Your Uber pulls up, and you both climbed in, the leather seats cool against your skin. You gave the driver your address, and the car pulled away from the curb, the city lights blurring into streaks outside the windows. You couldn't believe it was happening. You and Winter, alone together after all these years.

The ride to your apartment was quick, the silence between you filled with the hum of the car's engine and the occasional laugh at the driver's terrible attempts at small talk. When you arrived at your building, the gleaming glass and steel façade seemed to shimmer under the street lamps. Winter looked around with a raised eyebrow.

"Wow, fancy digs," she said, her voice teasing. "You trying to impress me or something?"

You couldn't help but chuckle at her playful jab. "Maybe just a little," you admitted as you led her to the elevator. The ride up to your apartment was filled with more awkward silence, the kind that was thick with unspoken words and hopeful glances. The elevator dinged, and you stepped out into the hallway, the plush carpet muffling your footsteps.

As you unlocked the door and ushered her inside, you felt a mix of pride and anxiety. Your place wasn't a penthouse, but it was a nice, clean space that you had worked hard to make your own. You hoped she'd like it. She stepped in, looking around with an approving nod. "Nice," she said, her eyes scanning the bookshelves and the modern art on the walls.

You offered her a seat on the couch, trying to play it cool while you grabbed another round of drinks from the kitchen. The silence in the room was palpable, and you found yourself fumbling with the bottles and glasses. When you returned, she had kicked off her shoes and was curled up on the cushions, her legs tucked underneath her. You handed her a glass of wine, your hand shaking slightly.

Winter took a sip, her eyes never leaving yours. "Thanks," she murmured, setting the glass down on the coffee table. The air between you crackled with tension, and you knew you couldn't ignore the feelings that had been building for much longer.

You sat down next to her, the couch dipping slightly under your weight. The scent of her perfume filled your senses, and you found yourself leaning in closer, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. "Winter," you whispered, your voice hoarse. "Can I tell you something?"

Her eyes searched yours, and she nodded, setting her glass aside. "What is it?"

You took a deep breath, feeling the warmth of the alcohol and the warmth of her presence mingling in your chest. "I never stopped liking you," you confessed, the words tumbling out in a rush. "Even after high school, even when we went our separate ways, I always had a thing for you."

Winter's expression was a mix of surprise and amusement. "Really?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. "It seemed like it."

You felt your cheeks redden. "What do you mean?" you stumbled out.

Winter's smile grew a little knowing. "The way you'd watch me during meetings," she said, her voice low and intimate. "It was just like the way you used to stare at me in class, like you were trying to burn a hole through the back of my head."

You felt your cheeks flush with heat, but instead of pulling away, you leaned in closer, your heart racing. "I just couldn't help it," you murmured. "You're so… captivating."

Winter's eyes searched yours, and she leaned in just as close. "And what do you want to do about it?" she whispered, her breath warm against your face.

You swallowed hard, the words catching in your throat. "I want…" You trailed off, unable to articulate the tumult of emotions you felt. You had dreamt of this moment for so long, but now that it was here, you were at a loss for what to say.

Winter's gaze never wavered. "I know this is weird," she said, her voice softer now. "And I know we shouldn't. But…" She took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling with the effort.

And before you could say anything, she leaned in, closing the gap between you. Her lips met yours, and the world around you seemed to dissolve into a haze of heat and desire. The kiss was gentle at first, almost tentative, as if she was afraid you would pull away. But when you didn't, she deepened it, her arms sliding around your neck.

You felt her body shift, and before you knew it, she was straddling you on the couch, her legs on either side of your hips. Your hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss grew more urgent. The fabric of her dress was smooth under your fingertips, and you couldn't help but wonder what she felt like underneath.

Her hands roamed over your shoulders and chest, sending shivers down your spine. You could feel the heat of her through the fabric, and the way she moved against you was driving you wild. You slid your hands up her back, feeling the softness of her skin, and she moaned into your mouth, her body responding to your touch.

Breaking the kiss, she leaned back, her eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. But all she saw was want, raw and unfiltered. "Winter," you murmured, your voice thick with desire. "I've wanted this for so long."

Her smile was soft, the corners of her eyes crinkling with amusement. "Then show me," she said, her voice a challenge. She leaned in again, her lips brushing against yours before she stood up, taking your hand and leading you to your bedroom.

The room was bathed in the soft glow of a single lamp, casting shadows across the bed and the floor. You felt a mix of excitement and nerves as you followed her, the reality of what was happening sinking in. She turned to face you, her eyes searching yours for any last-minute doubts. You didn't find any in yourself, only the burning need to be closer to her.

As you reached the bed, she turned to face you fully, her hands reaching up to gently cup your face. "Are you sure?" she asked, her voice a soft whisper that seemed to resonate in the quiet room.

You couldn't help the words that spilled out, fueled by the wine and the years of longing. "If you'd have me," you said, trying to sound more casual than you felt, "I'd marry you right now."

Winter's eyes widened, a spark of surprise flitting across her features before she burst into laughter. "Oh, really?" she teased, her voice light and airy. "And what would we do for a wedding, hmm?"

You couldn't help but grin, feeling the weight of the moment lighten. "We can plan it later," you said, stepping closer. "But right now, all I want is you."

Winter's laughter died down, and she looked into your eyes, searching for any hint of doubt or insincerity. But all she found was a fierce, unbridled attraction that mirrored her own. Without another word, she leaned in, and your lips met again, the kiss deepening as you both felt the gravity of the situation. You wrapped your arms around her waist, pulling her closer, feeling the heat of her body against yours.

Gently, you guided her backward, and she allowed herself to be pushed down onto the bed, her legs still wrapped around your waist. The mattress gave way beneath you, enveloping you in a cloud of comfort and desire. Your hands roamed her body, feeling the curves and contours that you had only ever dreamed of touching. She moaned into your mouth as you kissed her neck, your teeth grazing her skin.

With trembling hands, you began to undo the buttons of her dress, one by one. Each reveal was like a gift, each inch of exposed skin a treasure that you hadn't dared to hope for. Her breath hitched as you slid the dress off her shoulders, revealing a black lace bra that matched the panties you had caught a glimpse of earlier. You felt your heart thump in your chest as you took in the sight of her, beautiful and vulnerable before you.

Winter's own hands were busy, working on your shirt. She tugged it over your head, her fingernails scraping lightly against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. Your chest was bare now, and she leaned in, her soft breath ghosting over your skin as she placed a series of delicate kisses along your collarbone.

You couldn't take it anymore. You had to have her. You leaned down and kissed her again, your hands moving to her back to unclasp her bra. She gasped into your mouth as it fell away, her breasts spilling into your waiting hands. You cupped them gently, feeling their softness, and she arched into your touch, her hands gripping your biceps tightly.

Winter's skin was hot to the touch, and you could feel the tension in her body as you traced your thumbs over her nipples. They hardened instantly, and she moaned, her back arching off the bed. You felt a jolt of desire shoot through you, making you even harder than you already were. You kissed down her neck, across her collarbone, and finally took one of her nipples into your mouth.

The sensation was like nothing you had ever experienced. The way she tasted, the way she felt—it was all so much better than you had ever imagined. Her hips began to move in a slow, rhythmic dance against yours, and you knew she was just as lost in the moment as you were. You felt her hands move to the waistband of your pants, her fingers fumbling with the button and zipper.

You shifted your weight, allowing her to pull your pants down, revealing the boxers that struggled to contain your growing arousal. She looked down, her eyes widening slightly before she looked back up at you with a wicked smile. "Someone's happy to see me," she murmured, her voice thick with desire.

You couldn't help but chuckle, feeling your cheeks heat up. "It's been a long time," you admitted, your voice a gruff whisper.

Winter's eyes danced with amusement as she reached down to trace the outline of your erection. "Mm, I can tell," she said, her voice a low purr. She leaned in and placed a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth, her hand continuing to tease you through the fabric.

You groaned, the pressure building in your lower body as she touched you. You reached down to cup her cheek, guiding her face back to yours for another deep, hungry kiss. Her tongue danced with yours, the taste of wine and mint mingling as your bodies moved in a silent dance of need.

Breaking away, you managed to shed the last of your clothes, leaving you both bare before each other. You took in the sight of her, her pale skin glowing in the soft lamplight, and felt your heart stutter in your chest. She was so much more than you had ever allowed yourself to imagine.

Winter reached out, her hand brushing over your chest before trailing down to wrap around your length. You hissed through gritted teeth as she began to stroke you, her touch feather-light but firm. You could feel yourself growing even harder, the ache in your groin becoming almost unbearable.

You leaned down, your mouth finding her breast again. She gasped, her hand tightening around you as you sucked and teased the sensitive peak. Her hips rocked against you, and you knew she was as eager as you were to take this further. With a growl of pure need, you pushed her back onto the bed, your body covering hers.

The feeling of her skin against yours was electric, and you couldn't help but groan as you felt her warmth envelop you. Your hand slid between her legs, finding her wet and ready. You stroked her gently, feeling her quiver beneath your touch. Her legs parted wider, giving you better access, and she whispered your name like a prayer.

As you were about to enter her, she lightly stopped you, her hand pressing against your chest. "Wait," she said, her voice breathy. "Do you have…?"

You knew what she was asking. "A condom?" You searched her eyes, the realization of your oversight washing over you. "I'm sorry, Winter, I don't have one. I didn't expect…" You trailed off, feeling the weight of your words.

Winter's breath hitched, and she bit her lower lip, contemplating. Her eyes searched yours, the desire in them unmistakable. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Just… just promise me you'll pull out, okay?"

You nodded, understanding the gravity of her words. "I promise," you assured her, feeling a mix of relief and excitement. She leaned back into the pillows, her legs now wrapped around you, and you felt her hand guide you to her entrance. You paused for a moment, savoring the feeling of her heat against your skin. Then, with a deep breath, you pushed inside.

The sensation was overwhelming, the years of built-up tension and desire culminating in this single moment. She gasped, her eyes squeezing shut as she adjusted to your size. You watched her face, reading every line and curve as she felt you fill her completely.

Winter's breath caught in her throat. "It's…" she began, her voice trailing off. "It's a lot different when you're not wearing one."

You grinned, feeling a thrill at the idea that this could be a new experience for her. "Is it your first time without?" you teased gently, the tip of your nose brushing against hers.

Winter's smile grew wider, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Don't let it go to your head," she warned playfully, but the way her nails dug into your back as you began to move told a different story. You took her words to heart, though, focusing on her reactions, her breaths, and the way she moved with you. Each moan, each sigh, was a map to her pleasure, and you navigated it with a fierce determination to make this moment unforgettable.

Her legs tightened around you as you picked up the pace, and you could feel her body start to quiver. The tension grew with each stroke, and you knew she was close. You leaned down, capturing her mouth in a kiss as you felt her climax approaching. Her nails raked down your back, and she bucked her hips up to meet you, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

With a muffled cry, Winter shuddered beneath you, her body spasming as she reached her peak. The feeling of her inner walls clenching around you was almost too much to handle, and you had to grit your teeth to keep from coming. You pulled back slightly, watching her face contort in pleasure, feeling a sense of triumph and awe at the power you had over her.

As she came down from her high, her eyes fluttered open, meeting yours with a look of pure satisfaction. "Wow," she breathed, her voice still shaky. "That was…"

But before she could finish her sentence, you were already moving again, your hips thrusting into her with a gentle yet firm rhythm. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she gasped, her body still overly sensitive from the intense orgasm. "Wait," she started to protest, but the words died on her lips as she felt your length sliding in and out of her, teasing every nerve ending that was already on fire.

Her hands gripped the bed sheets tighter, her knuckles turning white as she tried to get a handle on the sensations. You leaned down, capturing her gaze as you whispered, "Let's see if I can make you say more than just 'wow.'"

With that, you began to thrust harder, her eyes rolling back into her head as she took in the intensity of the moment. Winter's legs wrapped around your waist, her ankles locking together to keep you as close as possible. Despite her initial protest, she was clearly enjoying herself, her breath coming in shallow pants that matched the rhythm of your movements.

Her grip on the bedsheets tightened, her knuckles white with the effort of holding on. You could feel her body responding to every thrust, her inner walls contracting around you as she grew closer to another climax. You reached down, your thumb finding her clit, and began to circle it gently, feeling her hips jerk in response.

Winter's eyes rolled back again, and a soft moan escaped her lips. You watched as she reached the precipice, her body taut with anticipation. Then, with a sharp intake of breath, she shattered, her body convulsing in pleasure. You didn't miss a beat, your movements unrelenting as you pushed her through the wave of ecstasy.

Her legs tightened around your waist, urging you closer, her hips grinding against yours. The sensation was overwhelming, and you knew you were close too. The thought of being inside her without a barrier, of feeling her warmth and wetness completely, was more than you could handle. "Winter," you managed to gasp, "Sorry"

And with that, you thrust deep, feeling yourself release with a groan that echoed through the room. She stared up at you, eyes wide with a mix of shock and pleasure as you filled her completely. Her walls tightened around you, and you watched in amazement as she rode out the waves of your climax, her own orgasm mixing with yours.

You collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily, feeling the weight of your promise to pull out and the reality of what you had just done. "Winter," you murmured against her neck, your voice filled with regret. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

Winter's smile was soft, a gentle curve of her lips that didn't quite meet her eyes. "You haven't even asked me out," she said, her voice filled with a mix of amusement and disbelief. "And here you are, stealing my first raw experience and my first creampie."

You couldn't help but laugh, feeling the tension in your chest ease at her light-hearted response. "Well," you said, pushing yourself up onto your elbows and looking down at her, "We were gonna plan our wedding after this."

Winter rolled her eyes playfully, a small smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, right," she said, her voice still thick with passion. "But for real, you better get me the plan b pill tomorrow."

You couldn't help but chuckle, the gravity of the situation not lost on you. "No gambling tonight, then?" You teased, raising an eyebrow.

Winter's laughter was light and airy, a sound that filled the room and your heart. "Definitely not," she agreed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She leaned in and kissed you softly, the taste of wine and mint still lingering on her lips.

You felt your body respond to her, despite the exhaustion that threatened to pull you under. You were still deep inside her, and the feeling of her walls contracting around you was like nothing you had ever felt before. As she kissed you, you could feel yourself growing hard again, the desire for her not yet sated.

Winter's eyes searched yours, a playful smirk playing on her lips as she felt you swell within her. She pulled away slightly, her eyes locked on yours as she whispered, "Looks like you're not quite done with me yet."

You couldn't help but grin at her audacity, your hips already starting to move again. "I told you," you murmured, "I've wanted you for so long." You began to thrust into her once more, the feeling of her tight warmth around you driving away any lingering doubts or fears.

Winter's eyes widened slightly, a mix of surprise and arousal flitting across her features. "You're insatiable," she murmured, her voice a mix of amusement and awe.

You grinned, feeling the power of your desire for her. "Since I'm buying you the plan b pill tomorrow," you began, your voice a low growl, "I'm going to make sure that your pussy knows exactly whose cock it belongs to."

Winter's eyes widened slightly, the color in her cheeks deepening as your words sank in. She didn't protest, instead her hips rose to meet your next thrust, inviting you deeper. You took that as a challenge, your movements growing more forceful, more possessive. Each stroke was a declaration, a claim on her body that she seemed to welcome.

#kpop fanfic #smut #gg smut #kpop smut #aespa smut #winter smut #male reader smut

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pucksandpower · 8 months ago

Text

The Interview

Max Verstappen x journalism student!Reader

Summary: when you are given an assignment to interview someone, you can’t resist asking your boyfriend to be the subject … it’s just a shame that your professor doesn’t believe the interview actually happened

The classroom smells faintly of old books and freshly printed handouts as you sit in your usual spot, third row from the front, slightly to the left. The room is slowly emptying out, the hum of post-class chatter gradually fading as students make their way out into the hallway. You’re gathering your things, sliding your notebook into your bag, when you hear Professor Carter clear his throat.

“Y/N,” he says, his tone firm but not loud. “Could you stay behind for a moment?”

You pause, your hand gripping the strap of your bag. His voice isn’t one that invites argument, and you’re already running through the possibilities of what this could be about. Your mind flickers to your most recent assignment — the interview with Max. The nerves you’ve been trying to suppress all week twist in your stomach.

You watch as the last few students shuffle out, closing the door behind them. Professor Carter leans back in his chair, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he flips through a stack of papers. His desk is a mess, as usual — books stacked haphazardly, coffee stains on nearly every surface, but his eyes are sharp when they finally meet yours.

“So,” he begins, tapping a finger on the paper in front of him. “Your latest assignment. The interview.”

You nod slowly, trying to gauge his mood. “Yes, sir.”

He holds up the paper, and you can see your neat handwriting sprawled across the page. “You interviewed Max Verstappen.”

It’s not a question, but you nod again anyway. “Yes.”

His eyes narrow slightly. “Tell me, Y/N, how exactly did you manage that?”

Your heart skips a beat. You knew this might happen — knew that choosing Max, of all people, might raise some eyebrows. But you hadn’t expected it to be this ... confrontational. You take a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Well, I’ve known Max for a while,” you say, carefully choosing your words. “I asked him if he’d be willing to help me with the assignment, and he agreed.”

Professor Carter leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Known him for a while, you say?”

“Yes,” you reply, trying not to sound defensive. “We’ve been ... friends.”

He arches an eyebrow. “Friends.”

There’s something in his tone that makes you stiffen. You know what he’s implying — he doesn’t believe you. You fight the urge to fidget under his gaze, forcing yourself to stay calm.

“Professor,” you start, choosing your words carefully, “I understand that it might seem unlikely, but I assure you, the interview was real. I can-”

He holds up a hand, cutting you off. “Y/N, let’s be honest here. You’re a student at the University of Sheffield. Not exactly the kind of place where one casually befriends a Formula 1 driver.”

Your stomach twists tighter. “I’m not lying,” you say, a little more forcefully than you intended. “Max and I-”

“Enough,” he says, his voice rising slightly. He sets your paper down on the desk, his fingers drumming against the wood. “If you’re going to fabricate an interview, at least make it believable. I’ve seen this kind of thing before, you know. Students who get desperate, who think that stretching the truth — or outright inventing it — will get them the grade they want.”

You stare at him, disbelief coursing through you. “I didn’t fabricate anything,” you insist. “I really interviewed him.”

Professor Carter’s expression doesn’t change. “Then prove it.”

You blink. “Prove it?”

“Yes,” he says simply. “Show me some kind of proof that this interview actually happened. Otherwise, I’m going to have to give you a zero for academic dishonesty.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. A zero. That would tank your grade — maybe even your entire semester. But the worst part is that he’s asking for proof you can’t provide, not without exposing the relationship you’ve been so careful to keep private.

You hesitate, your mind racing. What do you do? Do you tell him the truth? Risk everything to save your grade? But the thought of Max — his need for privacy, the way you’ve both agreed to keep things quiet for now — weighs heavily on you. You can’t just throw that away. Not for this.

You swallow hard. “I ... I can’t.”

Professor Carter’s eyes narrow. “You can’t?”

“I mean, I can’t give you proof,” you clarify, your voice wavering slightly. “But that doesn’t mean I’m lying.”

He sighs, shaking his head. “Y/N, you’re a smart student. You should know that in journalism, credibility is everything. Without proof, your story doesn’t hold up.”

You bite your lip, frustration bubbling up inside you. “I’m telling you the truth. I did interview him. Just because I can’t show you proof doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”

“And just because you say it did happen doesn’t mean it did,” he counters, his tone cool. He taps the paper again, a final, dismissive gesture. “I’m sorry, but unless you can provide evidence, I have no choice but to give you a zero.”

You’re stunned into silence, your mind reeling. You can’t believe this is happening. It feels unfair, like you’re being backed into a corner with no way out.

“Professor Carter,” you try again, your voice quieter now, almost pleading. “Please. I’m not lying. I wouldn’t risk my grade like this if it wasn’t true.”

He regards you for a moment, and for a split second, you think he might relent. But then he shakes his head, resolute. “I’m sorry, Y/N. My decision stands.”

The weight of his words presses down on you, and you feel a sharp sting behind your eyes. You blink rapidly, determined not to let him see you cry. This is supposed to be a professional conversation, and you won’t let your emotions get the better of you.

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. “I understand,” you say, though your voice is tight. “Thank you for your time.”

He nods curtly, already turning his attention back to the stack of papers on his desk, dismissing you without another word. You force yourself to walk out of the classroom with your head held high, even though every step feels heavier than the last.

When you finally make it out into the hallway, the reality of the situation hits you full force. You lean against the wall, your bag slipping off your shoulder as you press the heels of your hands to your eyes, willing yourself to keep it together. You can’t believe this is happening. A zero. All because you refused to betray Max’s trust.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you pull it out with trembling fingers. It’s a message from Max.

Hey, just finished training. Want to grab dinner later?

You stare at the screen, a lump forming in your throat. How do you even begin to explain this to him? Do you tell him everything? Or do you keep it to yourself, like you’ve been doing for the past year?

Your fingers hover over the keyboard, the words you want to say tangled up in your mind. Finally, you type a simple response.

Yeah. Let’s meet at our usual spot.

As you hit send, you take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. You’ll figure this out. Somehow. You have to.

***

The restaurant is quieter than usual, the low hum of conversation and clinking silverware blending into a muted backdrop. You sit across from Max in your usual booth by the window, the warm glow of candlelight casting soft shadows on his face.

He’s already ordered for both of you, the way he always does when he gets here before you. It’s a small thing, but it makes you smile — a reminder of how well he knows you, your likes and dislikes, the little details that make up your routine.

But tonight, the smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You can feel the weight of what happened earlier pressing down on you, a knot of tension in your chest that you can’t seem to shake. Max is talking about his day — something about the latest adjustments they’ve made to the car — but the words are barely registering. You nod along, trying to focus, but your mind keeps drifting back to the conversation with Professor Carter, the way he looked at you, the disbelief in his voice.

“Hey,” Max’s voice cuts through your thoughts, gentle but insistent. “You okay?”

You blink, realizing you’ve been staring at your untouched glass of water for the past minute. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you say quickly, forcing a smile. “Just ... tired.”

Max studies you for a moment, his blue eyes narrowing slightly. He’s not convinced, you can tell. But he doesn’t push, not yet. Instead, he leans back in his seat, taking a sip of his drink. “Long day, huh?”

“Something like that,” you murmur, picking up your fork and poking at the salad in front of you. You’re not really hungry, but you force yourself to take a bite, if only to keep your hands busy. The last thing you want is for Max to start asking questions. You know him too well — he’ll find a way to make this his fault, even though it’s not. And you can’t handle that right now, not on top of everything else.

Max is still watching you, though, and you can feel the weight of his gaze. He’s always been able to read you like a book, and tonight is no different. After a few more moments of silence, he sets his glass down with a soft clink.

“You’re doing that thing,” he says, his voice carefully neutral.

You glance up at him, confused. “What thing?”

“That thing where you say you’re fine, but you’re not.” His tone is gentle, but there’s a firmness underneath it. He’s not going to let this go. “Come on, what’s going on? Did something happen today?”

Your heart skips a beat, and you quickly drop your gaze back to your plate. “No, nothing happened,” you lie, trying to sound casual. “It’s just been a long week, that’s all.”

“Right.” He doesn’t sound convinced, and you can feel his eyes on you, searching for cracks in the facade. “Because you’re always this quiet when nothing’s wrong.”

You sigh, pushing the lettuce around your plate. “Max, I’m fine. Really.”

There’s a pause, and then you hear him exhale softly, like he’s trying to be patient. “You know, you’re a terrible liar.”

Your stomach twists at his words, but you keep your eyes on your plate. You know he’s right — you’ve never been good at hiding things from him. But this ... this is different. You can’t just blurt it out, can’t just tell him what happened without worrying about how he’ll react. He’ll get upset, maybe even angry, and he’ll blame himself for something that isn’t his fault.

“Just ... drop it, okay?” You say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Max’s expression softens, but the concern doesn’t leave his eyes. “Y/N,” he says gently, leaning forward. “If something’s bothering you, I want to help. You don’t have to deal with it on your own.”

You shake your head, still not meeting his gaze. “It’s nothing you can help with.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Max’s hand is on yours, warm and solid, grounding you in the moment. “Let me decide that,” he says quietly. “Please.”

The sincerity in his voice almost breaks you, but you bite down on the words that are clawing at the back of your throat. You can’t do this, not here, not now. So instead, you pull your hand away gently, offering him a small smile.

“Really, Max, it’s fine,” you say, trying to sound reassuring. “Let’s just enjoy dinner, okay?”

He hesitates, clearly torn between wanting to respect your wishes and wanting to press for answers. But eventually, he nods, though the worry doesn’t leave his eyes. “Okay. But if you change your mind ...”

“I know,” you say softly. “Thank you.”

You both lapse into silence after that, the conversation stilted and awkward. You try to focus on the food, on the comfortable routine you’ve built together, but the knot in your chest only tightens with every passing minute. You hate this — hate that you’re keeping something from him, hate that you’re letting it affect your time together. But you don’t know what else to do.

It’s Max who finally breaks the silence, setting his fork down with a sigh. “You know, I’m not very good at this.”

You look up at him, frowning. “At what?”

He gestures between the two of you. “At ... whatever this is. The whole ‘let’s pretend nothing’s wrong’ thing. It’s not really my style.”

You can’t help but smile at that, despite everything. “I know.”

“So why are we doing it?” He asks, his tone gentle but probing. “Why are you pretending that everything’s fine when it’s clearly not?”

You hesitate, chewing on your bottom lip. “Because ... I don’t want to ruin dinner?”

Max’s lips quirk into a half-smile, but there’s no humor in his eyes. “Dinner’s already ruined if you’re not happy.”

The words hang between you, heavy and honest, and you feel the walls you’ve been trying to keep up start to crumble. You take a deep breath, feeling the tightness in your chest loosen just a fraction. Maybe ... maybe it’s time to tell him. Maybe he deserves to know.

“Okay,” you say quietly, setting your fork down. “But ... promise me you won’t get mad.”

Max raises an eyebrow. “Mad? Why would I get mad?”

“Just promise.”

He sighs, nodding. “Okay. I promise.”

You take another deep breath, steeling yourself. “It’s about my journalism assignment. The one where I interviewed you.”

Max nods slowly, waiting for you to continue.

“So ... my professor — Professor Carter — he, um ... he thinks I faked it.”

Max’s expression darkens immediately, his brows knitting together in confusion. “What? Why would he think that?”

You shrug, trying to keep your voice steady. “Because ... well, because he doesn’t believe that I actually know you. He thinks I made the whole thing up to get a good grade.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Max says, his voice rising slightly in disbelief. “Why would he assume that?”

“Because I’m just a student at Sheffield,” you explain, your words tumbling out faster now. “And you’re ... well, you. He doesn’t think someone like me could actually know someone like you.”

Max’s jaw clenches, and you can see the anger simmering beneath the surface. “That’s-” He cuts himself off, taking a deep breath. “What did he say?”

“He said ... he said he’s giving me a zero for academic dishonesty unless I can prove that the interview was real.”

Max’s eyes widen in shock. “A zero?”

You nod, swallowing hard. “Yeah.”

Max sits back in his seat, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “That’s insane. You shouldn’t be penalized for telling the truth. Did you explain to him that we’re ... you know ...”

You shake your head quickly. “No, I didn’t tell him about us. I didn’t want to ... I mean, we’ve been keeping things private for a reason, right? I didn’t want to drag you into this.”

Max frowns, his frustration evident. “Y/N, you shouldn’t have to choose between protecting our privacy and your education. That’s not fair.”

“I know,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I didn’t want you to feel guilty. I know you would have found a way to blame yourself for this.”

Max looks at you, his expression softening. “I don’t want you to suffer because of me,” he says quietly. “I’d rather the whole world knew about us than have you lose out on your grades.”

You shake your head. “It’s not your fault, Max. I made the decision to keep things quiet, too. I don’t regret it.”

“But now you’re paying the price,” he mutters, frustration lacing his tone.

You reach across the table, taking his hand in yours. “We both knew there would be challenges. We’ll figure this out.”

He squeezes your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I just hate that this is happening to you. If I could talk to your professor-”

“No,” you cut in firmly. “I don’t want you getting involved. That would just make things worse.”

Max frowns, clearly unhappy with your decision, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he looks down at your joined hands, his thumb still tracing soft circles over your skin. “But what are you going to do?” He asks quietly.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. “I’ll figure it out. Maybe I can talk to him again, try to convince him without bringing you into it.”

Max shakes his head, clearly frustrated. “It’s not right, Y/N. You shouldn’t have to prove yourself like this.”

“I know,” you say, your voice soft but resolute. “But I don’t want to drag you into it. We’ve worked so hard to keep our relationship private, and I don’t want this to be the thing that changes that.”

Max looks at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours. Finally, he sighs, squeezing your hand one last time before letting go. “Okay. I’ll respect your decision. But if it gets worse, if he keeps pushing ...”

“I’ll let you know,” you promise, trying to offer him a reassuring smile. “But for now, let’s just try to enjoy dinner, okay?”

Max nods, though the tension in his shoulders doesn’t quite ease. “Okay,” he agrees, though there’s a note of reluctance in his voice.

You both lapse into a more comfortable silence after that, the conversation slowly returning to more familiar, lighter topics. But even as you talk about other things, you can feel the weight of the situation lingering between you. Max’s concern is palpable, and you know he’s still thinking about it, even if he’s trying not to show it.

But for now, you’re both doing your best to push it aside, to focus on the time you have together. You know you’ll have to deal with the situation with Professor Carter eventually, but for tonight, you’re content to just be here with Max, to enjoy the quiet moments that are yours alone.

No matter what happens, you’ll figure it out together.

***

Professor Carter’s classroom is as stifling as ever, the air thick with the scent of old books and the faint smell of chalk dust. You’re sitting in your usual spot near the back, trying to focus on the lecture. But it’s impossible to concentrate. Every time Professor Carter glances in your direction, your stomach twists with anxiety. The weight of his accusation still hangs over you, and you can’t shake the feeling that everyone in the room knows what happened, that they’re all silently judging you.

Your notebook lies open in front of you, but the words on the page blur together. You can barely pay attention to the lecture, your mind constantly drifting back to the conversation with Max. You told him you’d handle this on your own, but now, sitting here under Professor Carter’s scrutinizing gaze, you’re starting to doubt yourself. What if you can’t convince him? What if you really do end up with a zero on the assignment?

As if sensing your distress, Professor Carter pauses mid-sentence, his eyes narrowing as he looks in your direction. “Miss Y/L/N, is there something you’d like to share with the class?” He asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You snap out of your thoughts, your heart racing. “No, sir,” you mumble, trying to shrink into your seat.

He arches an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with your response. “Then I suggest you pay attention. This material will be on the final exam, and I’d hate for you to miss out on any more important details.”

There’s a smattering of laughter from your classmates, and you feel your face flush with embarrassment. You nod quickly, your fingers tightening around your pen. “Yes, sir,” you say quietly.

Professor Carter smirks, clearly pleased with himself, and turns back to the board. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. But just as you’re about to refocus on the lecture, the door to the classroom swings open.

Every head in the room turns to look at the sudden interruption, and you feel your heart stop when you see who’s standing in the doorway.

Max.

He’s dressed casually, in a black T-shirt and jeans, but there’s no mistaking who he is. The entire room goes silent, the air thick with shock and disbelief. You can see the recognition in your classmates’ eyes, the way they start whispering to each other, nudging each other and pointing in his direction.

Max strides into the room with the kind of confidence that only he possesses, his gaze scanning the room until it lands on you. His expression softens for a moment when he sees you, but then he turns his attention to Professor Carter, who is staring at him with a mixture of surprise and confusion.

“Can I help you?” Professor Carter asks, his voice sharp, though there’s a note of uncertainty beneath it.

Max doesn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, actually, you can,” he says, his tone polite but firm. “I’m here about Y/N’s assignment.”

Professor Carter’s eyes widen slightly, and you can see the wheels turning in his head as he tries to piece together what’s happening. “I’m sorry, but this is a private class,” he says, his tone regaining its usual authority. “If you have concerns about a student’s work, you can schedule a meeting during my office hours.”

Max crosses his arms over his chest, unfazed. “I think we can sort this out right here.”

You feel a mix of panic and gratitude welling up inside you. You didn’t want Max to get involved, but now that he’s here, you can’t deny the relief that floods through you. He’s taking a stand for you, and you can see that he’s not going to back down.

Professor Carter, on the other hand, looks like he’s trying to maintain his composure, but there’s a flicker of irritation in his eyes. “Max Verstappen, I presume?” He says, his tone clipped.

Max nods. “That’s right. And I’m here to prove that Y/N didn’t fake her interview with me.”

There’s a collective gasp from the students, and you can feel the tension in the room spike. All eyes are on Max now, and you can see the shock on your classmates’ faces as they realize what’s happening. Professor Carter, however, doesn’t seem impressed.

“I see,” he says slowly, his gaze flicking to you for a moment before returning to Max. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?”

Max’s expression hardens, and you can see the determination in his eyes. “Simple. I’m here, aren’t I? She couldn’t have faked an interview with me if I’m standing right here.”

The room falls silent again, and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest. Professor Carter opens his mouth to respond, but for a moment, no words come out. It’s clear that he wasn’t expecting this. He was so sure of himself, so confident that you couldn’t possibly know someone like Max Verstappen. And now, here Max is, standing in front of him, making him eat his words.

“I ... appreciate your enthusiasm,” Professor Carter finally says, though his voice lacks its usual bite. “But this doesn’t prove anything. For all I know, you could be here out of some misguided attempt to protect her.”

Max’s jaw clenches, and you can see the frustration building in his eyes. “You think I would waste my time lying for someone? If she didn’t do the interview, I wouldn’t be here.”

Professor Carter’s gaze shifts to you, and you can see the doubt still lingering in his eyes. “Miss Y/L/N, I told you that if you could provide proof, I would reconsider your grade. But this ...” He gestures to Max. “This isn’t exactly the kind of proof I had in mind.”

You feel a surge of anger rising within you, and before you can stop yourself, you’re standing up, your voice trembling but firm. “What more proof do you need? He’s here, in front of the entire class. He’s telling you the interview was real. What else do I have to do to make you believe me?”

The room falls silent again, and you can see the shock on your classmates’ faces as they watch you stand up to Professor Carter. He looks taken aback, his usual smug expression faltering as he stares at you.

For a moment, no one speaks. Then, Max steps forward, his voice calm but filled with conviction. “Look, Professor, I get that this might be hard to believe. But Y/N isn’t lying. She interviewed me, and she did a damn good job, too. If you don’t believe me, you can check with my team. They’ll confirm it.”

Professor Carter hesitates, clearly torn between maintaining his authority and acknowledging the reality in front of him. He glances around the room, seeing the way his students are hanging on every word, waiting to see what he’ll do next.

Finally, he exhales sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine. I’ll take your word for it, Mr. Verstappen. But I expect Miss Y/L/N to submit any additional documentation that can verify this interview. Understood?”

You nod quickly, relief flooding through you. “Yes, sir. Thank you.”

Professor Carter waves his hand dismissively, clearly eager to move on. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we need to continue with the lesson.”

Max glances at you, a small, reassuring smile playing on his lips. “I’ll wait outside,” he murmurs, and with one last look at Professor Carter, he turns and walks out of the classroom.

As the door closes behind him, you sink back into your seat, your heart still racing. The tension in the room starts to dissipate, and you can feel the curious stares of your classmates on you, but for the first time since this whole ordeal began, you feel a sense of calm. Max believed in you enough to do this, to stand up for you, and that’s all that matters.

Professor Carter clears his throat, trying to regain control of the room. “Alright, everyone, back to the lesson. We’ve wasted enough time as it is.”

You open your notebook again, but this time, the words on the page seem clearer, more focused. You can do this. You’ve got this. And no matter what happens next, you know you’re not alone.

***

When you step out of the building, the late afternoon sun is warm on your face, but you barely notice it. The adrenaline from the confrontation in class is still coursing through your veins, and all you can think about is getting out of here, away from the stares and whispers that followed you as you left the room.

You spot him immediately.

Max is leaning against his car, casually checking his phone like he doesn’t have a care in the world. But you can see the way his shoulders tense when he catches sight of you, the way his eyes soften when they meet yours.

The sleek black car gleams in the sunlight, and you can’t help but notice the way people are staring, some pointing, others whispering to each other. Max Verstappen waiting outside a university lecture hall is not something anyone expected to see today.

You make your way over to him, trying to ignore the attention and the pounding of your heart. You had told him not to do this, told him you’d handle it on your own. And yet, here he is, right in the middle of everything, like he promised he wouldn’t be.

“Hey,” Max says casually, slipping his phone into his pocket as you approach. There’s a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, like he’s waiting for your reaction.

You stop in front of him, crossing your arms over your chest. “You promised me you wouldn’t get involved,” you say, your voice tight.

Max raises an eyebrow, looking entirely too calm for your liking. “I said I’d respect your decision. And I did — until I realized your professor is a jerk who needed to be put in his place.”

You narrow your eyes at him, trying to maintain your anger, but it’s difficult when he’s standing there looking so smug, so unbothered by the situation. “That’s not the point, Max. You went behind my back.”

He tilts his head, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Did I, though? Because I seem to remember you didn’t explicitly tell me not to.”

You huff in frustration, knowing he’s right but refusing to give him the satisfaction. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Max shrugs, unbothered by your accusation. “Maybe. But I’m also right.”

You want to stay mad. You really do. But the way he’s looking at you, with that infuriating mix of confidence and affection, makes it impossible. You try to hold on to your irritation, try to keep the scowl on your face, but you can feel it slipping away.

Max must see it, too, because he steps closer, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. “You’re not really mad at me, are you?”

You hesitate, biting your lip. “Maybe a little.”

He chuckles, the sound warm and familiar. “No, you’re not.”

You look away, trying to maintain your resolve, but Max reaches out, gently turning your face back to him. His thumb brushes over your cheek, and you can’t help but lean into his touch, your anger melting away as quickly as it came.

“Stop trying to be cute,” you mumble, though your voice lacks any real bite.

Max grins, clearly enjoying this. “I can’t help it. It’s just who I am.”

You roll your eyes, but the smile that tugs at your lips betrays you. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, you still love me,” Max counters, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

You open your mouth to argue, but before you can say anything, Max leans down and presses his lips to yours, effectively cutting off any protest you might have had. The kiss is soft, gentle, but there’s an undeniable intensity behind it, a promise that he’ll always be there, even when you tell him not to be.

For a moment, you forget where you are, forget about the stares and the whispers, the anxiety that had been gnawing at you all day. All that matters is the feel of Max’s lips on yours, the way his hand cradles the back of your head, anchoring you to him.

When he finally pulls back, you’re breathless, your heart racing for a completely different reason now. Max looks down at you, his eyes dark with affection, and you can’t help but smile up at him, any remnants of anger long gone.

“Okay, fine,” you admit, still slightly dazed from the kiss. “Maybe I’m not that mad.”

Max chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before pulling back completely. “I knew it.”

You shake your head, but there’s no real frustration behind it anymore. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

He grins, clearly pleased with himself. “I know.”

You glance around, noticing the continued stares from the students passing by. You sigh, knowing this moment of privacy is short-lived. “We should probably get out of here before someone decides to take a picture.”

Max follows your gaze, nodding in agreement. “Good idea. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

He opens the passenger door for you, and you slide into the car, trying to ignore the curious eyes still on you. Max walks around to the driver’s side, getting in and starting the engine. As the car purrs to life, he reaches over, taking your hand in his again.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asks, his tone more serious now, the teasing edge gone.

You nod, squeezing his hand. “Yeah. I’m okay. Thanks for being there, even if I didn’t ask for it.”

Max smiles softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You don’t have to ask. I’ll always be there for you.”

And just like that, the tension that had been weighing on you all day finally eases. You know things aren’t completely resolved with Professor Carter, but right now, with Max beside you, it doesn’t seem as daunting. You’ll figure it out — together.

***

The classroom buzzes with the usual energy as students shuffle into their seats, chatting with friends or tapping away on their phones. It’s a typical day, but there’s a different kind of tension in the air. Today, Professor Carter is returning the results of the investigative journalism assignments, and no one is quite sure what to expect.

You settle into your usual spot near the back, trying to shake off the nerves. It’s been a few months since the whole incident with Max interrupting your class, and while things have calmed down somewhat, Professor Carter’s stern demeanor hasn’t wavered. You still catch him eyeing you from time to time, as if he’s waiting for you to slip up.

The door slams shut as Professor Carter strides in, a stack of papers in hand. The chatter in the room dies down instantly. He’s never been one for small talk or pleasantries, and today is no different. He doesn’t bother with a greeting, just dives straight into it.

“Good afternoon,” he says curtly, his voice slicing through the silence. “As you know, today I’ll be discussing the assignments you all turned in. Some of you excelled, others … less so.”

You swallow hard, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your notebook. You did everything you could to make your article stand out, but now that the moment of judgment is here, doubt begins to creep in.

Professor Carter begins pacing the front of the room, flipping through the stack of papers as he speaks. “Several of you chose topics that were predictable but handled them with enough depth to warrant commendation. For example, Miss Klein tackled the opioid crisis in rural England — an important and underreported subject.” He glances up at a blonde girl in the front row, who nods in acknowledgment, her cheeks flushing slightly at the attention.

“Then we have Mr. Patel,” Professor Carter continues, stopping briefly to peer down at a lanky guy two rows in front of you. “Your examination of government surveillance policies in urban areas was thorough, albeit a bit heavy on the technical jargon. But it’s clear you put in the work.”

You watch as Professor Carter moves on to the next paper, calling out names and offering critiques with the same detached professionalism. The topics range from environmental justice issues to the economic implications of Brexit — serious, weighty subjects that demand rigorous analysis. The longer he speaks, the more you feel the sinking sensation in your stomach. Your topic, in comparison, feels like a joke. An entertaining joke, sure, but still …

And then he pauses.

Professor Carter reaches the last paper in the stack, and his expression falters for a moment before he collects himself. He clears his throat and addresses the room, his voice taking on a more formal tone.

“And then we come to one particular assignment,” he begins, his gaze sweeping across the room before landing squarely on you. You freeze, every nerve ending on high alert. “An assignment that, while unconventional in its subject matter, demonstrated an impressive level of dedication and — dare I say — ingenuity.”

A ripple of whispers spreads through the room. You feel the heat of a dozen eyes on you but keep your gaze firmly on Professor Carter. His words are oddly measured, as if he’s trying to make sense of them himself.

He raises the paper in his hand slightly, glancing at it before looking back at the class. “Miss Y/L/N,” he addresses you directly, causing all the whispers to stop. “Your decision to investigate whether or not Toto Wolff, the team principal of Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula 1 Team, dyes his hair … was certainly unexpected.”

You hear a few muffled snickers, but you keep your face neutral, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“However,” Professor Carter continues, raising his voice slightly to silence the snickers, “the lengths you went to in pursuit of the truth were nothing short of remarkable. Going through Mercedes' trash? That shows initiative. Questionable ethics, perhaps, but initiative nonetheless.”

There’s a stunned silence in the room. You feel the urge to either laugh or shrink under your desk. You aren’t sure which. Instead, you nod slightly, acknowledging his words without letting the grin you’re fighting show.

Professor Carter takes a deep breath, as if bracing himself for what he’s about to say next. “In a field where skepticism is necessary, and where finding the truth often requires unorthodox methods, your work stood out. So much so that I found myself contemplating the absurdity of the situation. Here I am, reading about a billionaire’s grooming habits as though it were a matter of national importance.”

This time, the laughter from the class isn’t stifled. It rings out freely, and you feel your own lips twitch despite yourself.

“But,” Professor Carter interjects, silencing the room once more, “that is precisely the point of investigative journalism, isn’t it? To find the story others overlook, to dig deeper, even when the subject seems trivial. Miss Y/L/N, your article was, in its own way, insightful. You followed the evidence, and you made your case with conviction.”

He pauses, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looks at you. “Though I must say, I’m not entirely convinced that your methods were ... strictly ethical. Dumpster diving isn’t exactly taught in this classroom.”

You finally allow yourself a small, nervous laugh, shrugging lightly in response. “All in the name of journalism, right?”

Professor Carter lets out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. “I suppose so. Regardless, your paper has made an impact — certainly more than I anticipated.”

He drops your paper onto his desk and addresses the class one last time. “Let this be a lesson to all of you. Journalism isn’t always about the grand topics. Sometimes, the most interesting stories come from the strangest places. I encourage you all to think outside the box.”

With that, he begins handing back the assignments, and the classroom slowly returns to its usual rhythm. Conversations pick up again, but this time, they’re punctuated by curious glances and nods in your direction. You try to focus on the papers being passed down your row, but your thoughts are still stuck on Professor Carter’s words.

When your paper finally lands in front of you, you can’t resist flipping through it. There, scrawled in red ink at the top of the page, is your grade — a solid A. Next to it, Professor Carter has written a brief note: Keep pushing boundaries, but remember — ethics matter.

You smile to yourself, feeling a mix of relief and pride. The assignment had been a gamble, but it paid off in the end. And while the ethical considerations may have been a little murky, you can’t deny that the thrill of the chase had been worth it.

As class ends and students begin to file out, a few stop by your desk, offering congratulations or asking for details about how you managed to pull it off. You answer their questions with a grin, reliving the absurdity of your investigative methods. And though it feels surreal, you can’t help but feel a sense of validation.

As you gather your things and prepare to leave, Professor Carter catches your eye and nods in your direction, a rare hint of approval in his usually stern expression. You nod back, acknowledging the unspoken understanding between the two of you.

Stepping out of the classroom, you feel lighter than you have in weeks. The whispers and glances no longer bother you. Instead, they serve as a reminder that you’ve proven yourself, in your own way.

And as you walk through the corridors of the university, you can’t help but think about what Max will say when you tell him about today. Knowing him, he’ll probably tease you about your methods, but you also know he’ll be proud — just as you are.

Because sometimes, in journalism and in life, it’s the unconventional stories that make the biggest impact.

3K notes · View notes

hellfire--cult · 9 months ago

Text

MafiaBoss!Alpha!Eddie Munson x Omega!Fem!Reader

wc: 17k

+18, omegaverse, boss and secretary, possessive behaviour, jealousy, blood mentions, biting, rough, smut, p in v (unprotected), oral (both ways), slight dubcon at a point, mentions of nancy x reader, fingering, heat and rutting behaviour, breeding kink, spit, marking, degradation

Plot: Being the secretary of a Mafia boss was not easy, much less when you believed your boss was your scent mate and you knew he made your omega coworkers stay after hours to fuck them, yet he never called you to stay. It was time to move on, but your boss smelled the scent of another Alpha on you and decided to make sure you knew who you belonged to.

A/N: it was intended to be just a smut thing, never to be this long. Oh well, enjoy 9k words of pure filth out of that count. this isn't the header i intended, but it'll do

Don't be lazy and reblog.

AFTER HOURS

You didn’t want to pay it much attention.

You absolutely didn’t.

But you couldn’t help yourself as you smelled him, walking through the doors a room away. That scent was filled with ash and iron, yet it was intoxicating in the most addicting of ways. You didn’t want to be loving his scent, but you just couldn't avoid it. The omega inside of you always craved to go closer for a deeper smell, but you couldn’t.

He is your boss and you can’t want him this way. You can’t. You’re his secretary, well, one of them. There are four of you in total, always sitting outside of his office at your respective desks. Your coworkers are Omegas, just like yourself, and you have known them for over six months since you started working here.

You found the job offer through a friend of yours, Robin. Your beta best friend that told you her girlfriend was looking for a new secretary at her workplace. You were desperate to leave your old job, being dragged around by a misogynistic Alpha, telling you you were too dumb to be more than a mere assistant, even if you were great at your work and did it all so he would not have anything to do during the day.

You were shoving your resume in Robin’s hands the second she said that. You wanted out, you needed out, and Robin gladly passed it on to her girlfriend. You were called for an interview a week later, but you didn’t expect the job offer to come from one of the highest social buildings in the city.

You never knew what was inside but you could only guess it was a big company of some sort. When walking through the building, you could smell iron all around you, not blood to be exact, but just a strong smell. It smelled… powerful. A scent that intensified the more you walked through the office.

Then you finally saw Chrissy, going into a glassed room for your interview. You had met Chrissy before, but just a wave from afar. Robin told you Chrissy preferred to stay away from social events, or from meeting new people because of her work. That threw you off but your friend smiled apologetically and you didn’t press on the subject.

As the interview went on, the iron smell got stronger, sharper, only for you to turn around and for your eyes to clash against deep brown ones with dilated pupils. The smell was coming from him. From the man dressed in black outside of the room, his face almost touching the glass, his breath fogging it from how hard he was inhaling and exhaling.

You remember how awe-struck you were with him, and you remember how badly you wanted to get up from your chair to rush after him. But you saw him take a step back, giving Chrissy a nod and then walking away. You were confused and looked at Chrissy with a questioning look and that’s when you found out.

This was the Komodo mafia gang. They owned many businesses, residences, buildings… You were being interviewed to be Eddie Munson’s secretary. Eddie Munson is an alpha, and the boss of this gang. The owner. The leader.

Your thoughts were cut off when you saw the doors open, your head whipping to the side to see your boss walking in, ripping his blazer off, the smell of actual blood rushing into the room. All the omegas winced at the smell, as well as the other betas that were walking around with paperwork in their hands.

Your worry raised, unlike the other Omegas who were aroused or scared in the room, you were worried. Did something happen to him? Is the blood splattered on his shirt his own? Someone else’s? Your nose twitched as a sweet note of vanilla invaded you, and you saw Eddie walking by your desk, giving you a pointed look.

“I’m fine. Anything I need to catch up on?” His voice was low as he stood in front of your desk and you stood up as you tried to go back into your professional stance, shaking your head.

“No sir. I already knew that Kromstar’s dealership had to be sealed in the morning, so I took care of that.” You stood proudly, chin tilted up as you looked at your boss’s reaction. A small smirk was sent your way, followed by a single nod. You grabbed the paperwork from your desk and raised it towards him.

“Perfect. Good job my Rose.” He leaned forward, his hands reaching to hold the paperwork, but the tip of his index finger ran over yours and your breath left your lungs for a second as an electric shock ran down your spine. Your eyes locked with his as you saw his nose flare up slightly and then he took a step back from you.

“Do you– need me to get you some fresh clothes, Mr. Munson?” You kept your voice to a normal level, steady, professional. He shook his head as his eyes scanned your face, only to then look away and start walking towards his office.

“No, Chrissy already prepared stuff for me.” And like that, the scent slowly went away as he closed the doors to his office behind him. You turned your head to see the other omegas and betas looking at you and then returned to their business.

You sighed as you sat down again. Rose. His Rose. Eddie named his workers with flowers, but the only one that he called by her name was Chrissy. Steve, the male omega, he called Sunflower. Heather, the other female omega, he called Cosmo, and then Carol he called Carnation.

When you were named Rose you were surprised. You wondered what color of rose he pictured when naming you it. Was it pink? Red? White? A rosebud? A single rose? What colors were the other Omegas? Either way, your name caused a string of rumors that didn’t cease until a month later from your first day at your new job.

But he never referred to them as… his. You were the only one. You always wondered why.

You looked up to see Steve and Heather gossiping, and you wondered why you were never close to them. It was fairly civil, but you can’t say you shared a single lunch with them, nor with Carol. You guessed you were not part of their group because–

“Sunflower.” Chrissy’s voice made your head snap towards the big black office doors, her head peeking out. She sent a small greeting smile your way, which you reciprocated before she turned her head back to Steve, who was standing up from his desk so the Alpha knew she had his attention. “Stay after hours tonight.”

You heard a chirp coming from Steve’s way, the scent of lust filling the room as well as happiness. Heather’s scent soured as she received a shoulder wiggle from Steve, showing himself off. Your stomach twirled, moved all around, and you looked down at your paperwork, knowing your scent might be bitter.

You felt your body burn with anger, sadness, and jealousy, the omega inside of you wanting to let out a whine of distress. It was not fair. You were pretty sure you were the one who wanted him the most, you were sure of it… Six months you worked here, six months you’ve seen the other three omegas being called in for after hours, knowing damn well the Alpha was fucking them behind his office doors, and…

You were never called.

Not once. You came to the conclusion he did it to keep it professional with at least one of his secretaries, but– why did it have to be you? Why? His scent drives you crazy, so much so that after that first interview you went into a triggered heat, and you weren’t even near your heat date.

But you felt his stare. You felt it many times. You saw how his nose flared every time he came close to you, smelling you, taking in your scent just like you did with him. Your omega wanted to jump on the Alpha, and much more knowing he is a good man. He donates to schools and helps with the medical bills of many elderly people in the hospitals. Elderly people that have no one or very little. Not to mention how safe you knew you would be with someone like him. You and your pups would be cared for exceptionally.

Your Omega yearns to be submissive to this Alpha, to be bred by him, mated, protected… But Eddie can’t even see you as a random fuck. He sees you as just what you are. His secretary. You are nothing else but his dutiful, professional secretary. Nothing more, nothing less. You were the only secretary he didn’t fuck so that the job gets done, unlike the other three.

But later on, when you were already out of the office doors, you noticed you left your jacket behind. You would have not cared for it and just retrieved it the next day if it weren't for the fact that it was a friday, and it was your favorite jacket. So you went back up, all the way to the 23rd floor.

And god you wish you hadn’t.

The smell of sex filled your nostrils as you walked out of the elevator doors. His scent, spiked, aroused, strong, and fierce. You walked by the cubicles where a few betas were still typing away stuff, only caring for the job to be done. Guards stood by the door where your desk was, your office.

You were let in and you felt your knees weaken and tremble the closer you got to the desk, which was the closest to Eddie’s door. His office. You could hear the purring, the moaning, Steve calling Eddie’s name, and–

“Alpha– Knot me– Knot me, please–”

You felt like vomiting. You needed to get out of there. You needed to run. You needed to leave this place. Your hand snatched the jacket off the back of your chair and you rushed out of the doors and past all the cubicles. You didn’t want to think about it. You couldn’t bear to think about Eddie knotting someone.

As soon as the doors of the elevators closed, you let yourself whine and sob a couple of times as tears filled your eyes. Why do you feel so rejected? Nothing ever happened between the two of you. Nothing. The words were very little, and the most physical contact you had with him was the brushing of fingertips when he reached for something that was on your hand.

It didn’t make sense, but it might mean you found your scent mate… only that it’s one-sided. If it is that, you would have to leave the city. Leaving the job only won’t do the trick, you need to leave the city, fuck, even the state.

You felt your belly cramp less and less the more floors you went down and the less you could smell the aroused Omega and the feral Alpha. You can’t keep doing this. Maybe you need the distraction. You need someone else.

These six months you’ve been working here, there was this pull or this sense of respect that didn’t allow you to properly agree to dates or encounters with other people. Not even betas. You didn’t know why but you just felt like you needed to reject these advances. Your hands gripped your purse and zipped it open, taking out your cell phone and opening your Instagram.

Maybe this will help you feel better.

It did, yet it didn’t.

It did because Nancy was very sweet. The Alpha met you through Robin at a party once, and you chatted all night long, exchanging usernames on Instagram with one another. She messaged you a couple of times but soon after you started your new job and you didn’t feel the need to engage with her in such a manner any longer.

And when meeting with her she was kind, and respectful, and you were the one that had to initiate the flirting stance of the night out. Nancy was a good alpha. She looked like she could take care of you, so you didn’t mind when she asked if you wanted to go back to her place.

That’s when your mind couldn’t help but think of someone else when having sex with Nancy.

It wasn’t fair. You didn’t want to imagine him, but you felt like if you didn’t you wouldn’t have been able to even suck her cock. You don’t know what to make out of it, but you wanted her to knot you. You wanted it so you could confirm if you had an unrequited scent mate situation, and by the looks of it, it seems you did… You didn’t let Nancy knot you. You backed out at the last minute.

Her knot bumped into your entrance a couple of times, but you couldn’t let it in. You just let out warning growls at her everytime it did and Nancy respected it. But, even amidst all of that, you at least had your thirst quenched. Even if a bit and with someone you didn’t truly want.

Now monday, back in the forsaken office you want to burn down to start a whole new torturous week. You were at your desk, putting your paperwork away as Carol talked to you from hers, steps away from yours.

“Someone had fun.” She snickers as she chews on her gum and you glance once at her and back down, Steve’s voice filling your ears.

“Carol, knock it off.” Out of the three omegas, Steve was the most tolerable one. You looked up at him and he gave you a nod and then looked back down at his papers. Carol scrunched her nose and then started writing down on her contracts.

You wondered if the three showers you took were not enough. You were sure it was enough. You didn’t have any marks on you, you told Nancy not to leave any. You sighed at how unprofessional this might make you seem in front of everyone. You tried taking the scent off but it seems it didn’t work and now everyone knows.

The iron scent filled your nostrils and you knew your boss got off the elevator. All of you got up from your desks to receive your boss, but your nose scrunched when you started smelling something bitter or pungent. The doors opened with Eddie, followed by Chrissy right on his heels. His hands were in his pockets as the four secretary omegas gave a nod and a greeting to their boss.

He was about to pass by you but he suddenly stopped. You tilted your head as you saw his nose flaring slightly. The scent in the room became a little suffocating, your knees feeling like they wanted to give up on you and it seemed that it was taking an effect on the other omegas because you could hear Heather whining in fear in the corner of the room.

You didn’t know what was going on, but then another scent joined in, spicy, alarmed. Chrissy was inspecting Eddie’s back and then she slowly turned to face you. Her eyes widened slightly as she took a deep breath in.

Your eyes were wide, eyebrows meeting in the middle as you saw Eddie slowly turning to face you. His eyes were black, pure black. You could feel your omega wanting to submit, to ask for forgiveness, but for what? You didn’t do anything wrong, so why is his anger directed towards you?

“Mr. Munson?” Your voice was small and worried, but you needed to know why he was looking at you like he wanted to… kill you?

“Mr. Munson, I think we should head inside.” Chrissy’s hand pressed on his shoulder as Eddie’s eyes kept scanning you, from head to toe. Did you do something? Did you forget to do paperwork on friday? Did you miss a client? No, it’s not like you… but who knows? You are human.

Eddie’s face got closer to yours as you stood there, looking at him as he towered over you, his presence bigger than this room, and you felt like you were being suffocated. You felt your heart hammering in your chest, his breath hitting your face as it came out of his nostrils in harsh puffs.

His face was tense, his jaw clenched, and a vein was popping out on his forehead. Then you heard a low rumble, a vibration and you realized that he was growling. Your boss was growling at you. You whined slightly now, knowing you had done something wrong. You didn’t know what but he was displeased with you, no, he was angry, furious with you.

“Sir–” Chrissy tried again, this time more alarmed, more pressure in her tone, but keeping her Alpha rank below Eddie’s. She sounded worried as she looked at you and then back at Eddie, and– was he going to fire you? What did you do?

Eddie growled loudly as a rough hand made your pen holder fly across the room and hit the wall with force. You gasped and jumped one step back at the sudden aggressiveness, never having seen your boss like this. You were scared, worried, alarmed, but you wanted to apologize, for whatever you did.

The male Alpha huffed once and marched into his office. Chrissy was breathing heavily and then looked at you, shaking her head to calm you down. You didn’t notice the whine that was leaving your throat until Chrissy tried to shush you.

“What– Did I forget to do something on friday?” You were trembling, and Chrissy shook her head and was about to press a hand on your shoulder, trying to comfort you, only to retreat before doing so.

“N-No… he– had a rough weekend. Please, don’t be alarmed omegas, just– Please, have a twenty-minute break and come back.” Chrissy gave you one last glance before she turned and rushed into the Alpha’s office. You looked at the other Omegas in the room and they were as confused as you but more scared. The guard nodded to you all towards the other door, and you wanted to barge into his office and ask if he was okay. Ask for forgiveness, or do something to make him feel better.

But as you were escorted out for your break, you started hearing things breaking inside his office as well as muffled yelling. You held a whine in as your body trembled and then you walked out of your office. You looked at the other three omegas who only crossed their arms at you with frowns on their faces.

“What the fuck did you do?” Heather asked and you shook your head, not knowing what to say.

“I– I swear I don’t know, I– I did all my work on friday and I rechecked today and everything is fine?” Your heart wanted to explode and your stomach twisted with nerves and you needed to pace. You needed to let go of the energy that was consuming you. The omegas followed you as you walked towards the balcony to get some air, the murmurs of your other coworkers making your head throb. You didn’t need the speculations or people making more rumors about you. Not right now.

“You did something! Did you check properly?” Steve asked this time and you growled at them, taking them aback. Omegas hardly growled, only when purely distressed or displeased.

“I didn’t! Maybe it was one of you that lacked on their job to get their pussy wet with the boss and since I’m the only one that actually works, I get the fucking blame!” Your voice was loud, high-pitched, angry, and fed up. Carol cleared her throat and scoffed as she squinted at you.

“Don’t blame it on us. It’s not our fault he doesn’t want to touch a single strand of your head.” Your heart plummeted to the ground at that and Steve pressed a hand on Carol’s shoulder only for her to rip it out of his grasp and walk away.

You were looking down at the floor, and you felt your eyes fill with tears. You heard Steve and Heather mumble something to one another before walking away, and then all you could hear was the beating of your heart in your ears. What did you do? What have you done so badly, so wrongly, for him to get angry like this?

Will you get fired? Maybe… Fuck, what if you do get fired? But didn’t you want to? Wasn’t that one of the best decisions for you? You didn’t want to feel this anymore, this rejection, this pain in your gut. You don’t want to be near him any longer, not if you have to watch him be with others all the time. Watch him choose others before you. You can’t keep doing that to yourself.

So maybe if he fires you it is for the best. Whatever the reason might be. You would be able to move on at one point, leaving the city, away from him and his scent. Yes, it will hurt leaving Robin behind, but you can’t bear it. You can’t. Seeing him this angry at you, not only makes you feel little and useless, but also it adds up to the rejection. You feel unwanted, undesired.

You take your time, taking deep breaths before walking back. The other three already returned to their desks, but you took one more minute to yourself. You took a deep breath in before you walked through your office doors and you could hear your coworkers typing away, in silence.

The air was tense, the scent around you all was covered by sprays and blockers, yet you could still smell the bitterness, the sourness, the musk. You just wanted to head home. You needed to head home. Maybe you can call Chrissy and tell her you don’t feel well. Yeah, you’ll do that.

You walked towards your desk and slowly sat down on your chair. As soon as you did, Eddie’s door opened and Chrissy walked out, closing the door behind her. All the omegas snapped their heads to look at her, expectantly, except for you. You knew that when Chrissy walked out of Eddie’s office it meant–

“You’ll stay after hours tonight.” That. She always says that. Wait–

“Huh?” Your head snapped upwards to see Chrissy looking down at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read.

“You’ll stay after hours tonight. No questions asked, you cannot reject it. You must stay.”

Your eyes were wide as you looked at how she turned and walked back into the black doors, the guard moving away for her to enter. You looked at the door, and stared at it as if what just happened was a fantasy that happened in your head. There’s–

Your breathing accelerated as you looked down at the desk. This wasn’t like when he asked for Steve or Heather or Carol to stay, wasn’t it? You couldn’t smell anything, fuck, you couldn’t smell what he was feeling at all. You can still smell the bitterness despite the blockers in the room, but you don’t know if it is remnants of before or–

“Hey, hey, you need to calm down.” You didn’t notice Steve was in front of you with worry in his eyes as he rested his palms on your desk. You looked at him, frowning, lip trembling, and you didn’t notice the whines coming from your throat. Your eyes filled with tears as the anxiety consumed you, and you were in clear distress.

“I mean, Steve, she has every right to be like this, it’s not like he is calling her to do what he does to us.” Heather snickered on the corner, disguising her displeasure of you being called tonight, but also calm because the boss was not in a good mood at all. That comment didn’t make you feel any better, if anything, it made you feel worse.

The first time you are asked to stay after hours, and it’s because you might get fired or– killed? It looked like that. He looked like he was going to eat you or rip you to shreds, not sexually. It didn’t look like that for you at all, and the scent he was leaving was a clear giveaway.

“Heather, shut the fuck up, you’re not helping.” Steve bared his teeth slightly at the coworker and all you could do was stare down at your desk. You started frowning as you looked down at your papers. Everything is fine… You know it. You know everything you did was right and on time. Work wise? You were impeccable.

Your posture changed as you straightened up and took a deep breath in. You cleared your throat and gathered your papers and looked at your computer. You will recheck but, you know everything was fine. You looked at Steve and directed a soft smile his way.

“I’m fine. It was nice working with you Steve, I say this just in case we don’t see eachother after today.” Your voice became low, calm as your thoughts settled. Whatever you did, it wasn’t of your knowledge, or whatever someone else did and blamed it on you. You know you did everything right, so even if you’re scared… terrified, you will stand your ground.

Steve only cleared his throat and walked back to his desk as Heather and Carol looked back down to their computers as they shared one look. It wasn’t nice working with them, you weren’t going to lie to them, but Steve was the only one that helped you with stuff, despite him fucking your possible scent mate.

Now it was a matter of waiting, looking at your watch as the hours went by, and your nerves started eating away your intestines, your stomach, just everything. You felt like you were being consumed slowly but you had to keep your head straight. You were not going to be chewed for something you didn’t do, or a misunderstanding, or a rumor.

You might not return to your office tomorrow, so you started putting some of your stuff all together in your drawer, maybe someone will bring you a cardboard box for later on. Steve was looking at you from the corner of his eye, eyebrows frowned as he typed away.

And then, 6 PM arrived. Chrissy walked out from the black doors and looked at the other three Omegas with a sharp look.

“Leave immediately.” Your breath was taken out of your lungs as you heard her authoritative tone, her Alpha voice vibrating against the walls of your office. Steve gave you one last look before he got up from his chair and ducked his head as a goodbye. You stayed in your chair as you saw how the other omegas left the office giving you final glances.

Your heart was accelerated, wanting to break out from your chest and you felt the blood rushing through your ears like a waterfall. You looked at Chrissy and she turned to face the guard. Without a word, the guard that was on Eddie’s door walked out of your office, surprising you because the guards never left.

“Um… why is Geoffrey–”

“You must stay on this floor. The boss doesn’t want…” Chrissy bit her tongue as she looked at you with a frown. You didn’t know if it was stern, or worried, or a mixture of both. “Get inside his office once you do not hear anyone else. Good luck Rose.”

And then you saw Chrissy walking out of the door of your office. You sucked in a breath as you saw from the open door how all the betas were being commanded to leave, which never happened. There were always a few who stayed or did night shifts. Your breath was heavy as you realized Chrissy was clearing out the floor, leaving you and Eddie as the only people on it.

You heard the elevator ding many times as people left. You still couldn’t smell anything, and you didn’t notice you were scratching the wood of your desk from your anxiety. You sharpened your ear until no more dings came from outside. You gulped as you shakily stood up from your chair and looked at the big black double doors.

You stepped away and fixed yourself, wanting to appear unaffected or as professional as possible, not wanting him to know how anxious you were. You took a few steps towards his office, your heels clicking on the floor. You took a sharp deep breath in as your hand trembled, grabbing the door handle. You then opened it and– oh god–

The scent was strong, pungent, making your nose burn. It was a mixture of so many smells, including wood, lemon, ash, and leather? Musk? But you also noticed the hint of bitterness, of sourness. Strong and sharp. It was suffocating, yet– you could feel your belly turning, strongly, pulling you to him. You felt your body growing hot, just like it always did when you caught his scent but this time it was ten times worse.

You held your breath in order to concentrate on your task of walking inside, seeing his back turned to you, behind his desk, and looking out his big windows, going all the way to the very tall ceiling. His hair was tied up in a bun, wearing a black buttoned-up shirt with a loosened burgundy tie around his neck, with the sleeves rolled up just under his elbows and his black pants. He had a cigarette in his hand and you could see the smoke leaving him as it went over his head.

“Lock the door after you walk in.” His voice was demanding, not yet authoritative. You wanted to run away from this confrontation but you knew he would come in contact with you one way or another.

You slowly stepped inside, feeling like every step was one step closer to your doom, or to something unknown. You closed the door and took a deep breath in as you locked the door just as he ordered. Were you… going to die? Did you read something you shouldn’t have? You don’t remember anything that would have made you think you shouldn’t have, so–

“Come closer Rose.” His voice was strained, angry still. You gulped and followed his instructions, slowly taking steps closer to him until you were ten steps away from his desk. The scent was stronger and you felt like kneeling before him as you felt wetness start to pool inside your underwear. You were embarrassed, but maybe he won't notice if you don’t show it. Fuck his scent for making you this way, you might die right now, and all you can feel is being horny?

“Sir… What do you… need me for?” You asked, slowly and mostly submissive, to show him that whatever he says will go, at least for now. You heard a rumble, and you didn’t know if it was a groan or a growl. He took a puff out of his cigarette before speaking again.

“Do you know why you’re here?”

“Not really… Did I do something to make you this displeased?” It was a risky question, but someone had to break the ice for it.

“You did.” You felt your breath being knocked out of your lungs. Fuck, what did you do? What could you have possibly done? Whatever you did was no small thing, remembering how he threw your pen holder across the room.

“I– I checked everything I did on friday and I didn’t notice anything– Was it something my colleagues had to do that–”

“Did she knot you?”

Your mouth fell open as you looked at his back, your heart stopping completely at the question. How did he–?

“What?”

“I asked you a question, Rose, so you answer it accordingly.” And then your boss slowly started turning around, and you felt your blood leaving your body as his eyes, now all black, not a single speck of brown anywhere looked into your soul. You couldn’t see his irises from how dilated his pupils were. His features were clenched, eyebrows tense, and when he fully turned to you, you saw how his chest was moving quicker than normal because of his breathing. “Did. She. Knot. You.”

Your eyes looked into his again, noticing the anger, the rage, the desperation that lingers there. Your scent probably spiked right now because irritation coursed through you. How dare he? Why? You need confirmation that he has the information of your personal life, because, why the fuck would he need it?

“I’m sorry Sir, she?”

“Nancy Wheeler. 27. Journalist. Presented at the age of 15 as an Alpha, moved to the city of Chicago three years ago to pursue her career. She has two siblings, her father, and mother still alive, no Omega mated to her, so this is your last chance to answer. Did she knot you?” His voice was low, commanding, not yet authoritative in his Alpha tone, but it was coming to it. Your lip twitched at this man's audacity, not understanding the reason for the interrogation.

“With due respect, I don’t think my personal affairs are important at all.” And then Eddie’s hands slammed against the desk and your eyes widened when the Alpha’s teeth were suddenly bared, growling at you, the noise sending a wave of daggers across your entire skin.

“I CAN SMELL HER ON YOU!” His voice was loud enough that you felt like the walls shook from its vibration. Your heart was about to explode as you took a step backwards, your belly turning in fear as well as– arousal? Nerves? You couldn’t pinpoint it, but his scent was becoming stronger and stronger and it was making your mind turn hazy and your belly cramp slightly.

How dare he? How dare he ask something like that? Why does he care or why does he acknowledge it? Is it because Nancy’s Alpha scent was stronger than his? Was his ego crushed? You stepped back to the place you were standing, your face stern as you defied your boss, your senses on alert and sharp as you looked at him, trying not to glare to not create more discourse.

“I repeat, I do not believe my personal business has anything to do with you, sir. I do not meddle in yours, except work-related. All professional business.” Your voice was firm and assertive, yet there was a hint of shakiness behind it. Of course there was, Eddie was still baring his teeth at you, the air around you clenching your lungs, tightly, wanting to rip them apart.

He put out the cigarette on the ashtray, or one would say he smashed it into it from the force he sent his hand down. His nose scrunched up in distaste as he clenched his eyes tightly as if trying to contain himself from something. You were overwhelmed with all the Alpha pheromones that were around you, and you couldn’t understand the reason behind the question. You opened your mouth to speak again but he interrupted you with a rough tone.

“Why the fuck did you let another alpha touch you?” He asked but you didn’t know if he was asking it to you or if he was talking to himself because he was still not looking at you. He was clenching his eyes as his hands gripped the edge of the desk. You noticed the veins popping on his forearms, underneath the ink, you could still see the bumps thanks to the reflection of the soft lamps around you.

“Sir–”

“And you didn’t even take her scent off of you. You didn’t wash her fucking scent off your skin.” His eyes looked into yours again, his top lip twitching into showing off his teeth again but he was containing himself so it seemed. You gulped and looked down at your feet, trying to control your breathing as you felt yourself becoming smaller each second he stared at you.

“I– I tried. I thought I managed but– I’m sorry if it is unprofessional–” and you heard him let out a sarcastic chuckle, making you look back up at him.

“Unprofessional? Yes. You can call it that… so I’ll take that stench off of you.” Your eyebrows knitted together in the center of your forehead, not understanding the meaning of his words.

“You’ll– I don’t understand?” And the room became silent. You made a displeased sound when you felt some slick soaking your panties and it started being a little uncomfortable. You wanted to bolt out of here, you wanted to go away but you felt– you felt like you were being preyed on. You felt like fucking prey.

“I will take that putrid smell away. I will replace it with my scent.”

And you froze. You felt as if all the blood had drained from your body in just one instant. You couldn’t feel the tip of your fingers as you watched him as he rounded the desk, steps slowly taken, the sound muffled by the single large carpet against the wooden floor. You were breathing as best as you could as your mind processed his words.

His scent? Why? You two–

“We– Why?”

“Because you are mine.” And that made your blood come back to your veins, but it was burning now. His? You’re his? You saw how his eyebrow twitched at the change of attitude inside of you once again.

“Yours? I’m not yours, sir. I am free to do as I please… just like you are.” You saw his jaw clenching at your defiance as he stood in front of you, two steps away, towering over you. He smelled so good, but so strong, so dangerously strong. He squinted his eyes slightly at you as he scanned your body, and then back at your face.

“Time to change that. Strip.” You couldn’t process his words correctly in your brain. What did he say? Why–

“What–?” His eyes were staring into your soul as his hands clenched at his sides.

“Strip.” And you didn’t want to comply, you wanted answers first, or at least for him to realize how hypocritical he was being. Your body trembled with the need of submission but you prevailed, not wanting to fall for it.

“I don’t see the need to.” And that’s when you heard it, the growl, and his teeth were bared once more.

“I said, strip, Omega.” His voice, now authoritative in his Alpha command. You felt yourself become limp, your mind shutting off slightly from rationality and control. You could only tear up as your hands went towards the buttons of your blouse against your will. You wanted answers, you needed them, not do this.

His eyes watched you as you slowly undressed, and every try of you gaining control of your hands once again was useless. If it were another Alpha, you could have probably fought the command, but Eddie was your kryptonite. Now you are sure he is your scent mate, though you are not his. This is enough proof. Not being able to stop at all, even if there might be danger, that’s when your omega is in complete submission to THEIR alpha.

Your hands removed your blouse first, then you unzipped, and dropped your tube skirt, then got out of your shoes. You were not looking at him as you felt your eyes burning, your hands moving towards your back to unclasp your bra, letting it fall down. The last piece of clothing were your black lace panties.

You didn’t realize you were trembling as your hand got under the elastic of your underwear, but a hand stopped you. A ringed, tattooed hand gently grasped yours and you felt yourself breathing again, for some reason feeling safe. You shortly realized it was him releasing calming pheromones towards you. His feelings were being a whiplash for you, not understanding the brutal change, not understanding if he wanted to intimidate you or rather calm you.

“You– You have your fun with the other omegas… why can’t I have my own?” Your voice came out small, but then you raised your head to look at him. His eyes were black, pitch black. His nose was flaring as he looked at you and his mouth was slightly open, and you took notice of his fangs being enlarged somewhat. You frowned at the display, at how– desperate he looked.

“I will ask… one more time…” His voice low, strained, and there was a hint of begging behind it. “Did she knot you?”

And your face twisted, your scent soured making his nose scrunch up, his eyebrow twitch as he scanned your features.

“Did you knot them? Sunflower? Carnation? All?” You hissed through your teeth, your displeasure known for once and for all, and then, the room felt as if it spun around you, oxygen was exchanged for his smell.

A loud snarl was heard from him, vibrating within himself and you swore you could feel it inside you as well from how intense it was. How alarming. How threatening. How empowering. How… possessive. It made you shiver, whimper, and look at him with eyes filled with uncertainty, fear, excitement, arousal, and nervousness– just a mix of many emotions.

And you knew he could smell you. You knew he could smell the slick, your juices just making a mess out of your thin thong, coming out from the sides and already dampening your inner thighs. You couldn’t help yourself, you couldn’t help how your limbs were trembling for his touch, and you didn’t have to wait long for it, just not how you expected.

Tattooed hands went towards the loosened tie around his neck and undid it in one single tug. Your heart skipped a beat as he put the tie in his mouth, biting onto it, while he grabbed your wrists, making you gasp at the sudden touch, but then– fear mixed with arousal. He held your wrists together in front of you with just one hand, while he used the other to wrap the tie around them, expertly, and then tying them up together.

It was tight, a small whimper getting stuck in your throat.

His right hand flew to the back of your head, clenching your hair in a warning and threatening grip, a hiss falling from your lips as he pulled your face closer to his. His hot breath falling on your lips like molten lava, his eyes long gone from rationality, and you know, you just know, you cannot defy him. Not now.

“On your knees.” He didn’t use his Alpha tone. He didn’t have to. Despite your fear, the twist in your gut, your dignity yelling at you at the back of your head to not do this, to not become one of his many toys just because his alpha pride was hurt, you still got on your knees. It was slow, and your eyes never left his as you sunk lower.

His hand left your head and went to undo his pants, and the zipper noise made your eyes move to the bulge that was in front of you. You couldn’t help the feeling of wanting to nuzzle your face against it, but you weren’t going to indulge in that feeling. You weren’t going to become putty, even if your omega was jumping happily, making you want to purr in delight and chirp because your scent mate was finally looking your way.

His tattooed hands, scarred even, pulled the zipper down and then his pants went downwards with a push. Your eyes were fixated on the wet stain that was over the dark blue hue of the fabric of his boxers. Your tongue tingled with the need of darting it out to lick on it, needing to taste it, to finally have his flavor in your mouth.

He could probably see it, how your eyes teared up, or clouded, pupils starting to dilate slowly, and how your own wetness was gushing out even more. You wanted to rip the tie off with your teeth, let your hands free to touch him, but– No. You cannot do this. It’s not fair. But it is what you have wanted all along, isn’t it? You closed your eyes to try to keep your brain to yourself, trying to control your body, at least regain a bit of it.

“Mr. Munson– I will not be one more for the collection.” You didn’t expect a low chuckle to escape him, but you could hear the angered growl behind it, expressing how disgusting that comment of yours was. Your eyes opened, looking up at him, only to see enraged eyes and bared teeth directed your way, which only made you tremble in fear, in anticipation, and in eagerness.

“You have no idea what the fuck you are talking about, My Rose.” His. Why is there so much anger coming from the Alpha that is now towering you? You cannot comprehend it. You cannot really understand it. His hands moved, you noticed, and then when your eyes went back to your front, your breath caught in your throat.

His cock sprung out and hit his pelvis as he pulled his boxers down enough to release it. It was thick. The tip was bright red, and it looked like it hurt. You couldn’t help yourself when your mouth started watering, seeing the drop of precum leaking out of the tip. You felt your saliva pooling on your tongue, your eyes fixated on it, and your body was suddenly set ablaze as your wrists tried pulling against the tie with no chance of success of untying yourself.

“Taste it.” Eddie’s voice was low, and commanding, and you didn’t really know if he was using his Alpha tone or not, but your body reacted instantly. Your tongue darted out, and the tip of it scooped up that drop of precum escaping him. You tasted it, mouth closed and if your mind was hazy before, it was now gone. Out of the window who you were before tasting him. Dead was the woman who could probably live without the need to know this taste.

Your eyes were closed as you moaned at how delicious he was. Everything made sense, puzzles were put together, that little earring you thought you lost was found again, you discovered the secret ingredient to a recipe you never got right. And then–

Your eyes opened, revealing that tears had filled them, slick dripping furiously down your inner thighs, body trembling, lip wobbling as you stared up at him. The Alpha that made you simply lose yourself.

“Please… Please…” You begged. You didn’t even need to probably, but you still begged. His hand went towards your head again, his fingertips softly digging into your scalp. His jaw was clenched, strained.

“Open, Omega.” Electricity rushed through your body at the command, at his voice calling you omega. He called you it. And how can you ever defy him? Not now. Not ever. Not after this.

Your eyes looked at the red tip in front of you, and you saw how his dick twitched, bobbing a little, as if anticipating your touch, your warmth. His hand was still on the back of your head, but was not pushing you. Not that it needed to.

Your mouth opened, tongue lolling out just slightly as you leaned forward. The tip touched your tongue first and then you kept going, finally taking him inside your mouth. A pleased growl vibrated through the room, and Eddie could only throw his head back in delight as your warmth finally started to engulf him.

Moaning is the only thing that could be heard from you the more you took him inside. Once you knew you couldn’t go further without choking, you moved your hands to help yourself only to whine at feeling them tied. You could only use your mouth on him, but it was no time to complain. There wasn’t any.

His grip tightened as you started bobbing your head, coating his dick in saliva, all over, slobbering it so much that it started running down the side of your mouth. You didn’t know it, but the Alpha before you was losing his mind, fighting against the animal that was inside of him.

Your moans helped with the vibrations around him, and you felt your entire body just burning inside out. You pulled away to be able to dip the tip of your tongue onto the slit of the head of his cock. He groaned loudly as he looked down at you and then you felt him guide you, which you obliged.

His cock went inside your mouth again, and you started moving faster, but not by choice. If it were your call, you would take your time to taste him properly, try to trace every ridge of his veins so that it burns into your memory because, you don’t know if you will ever have this opportunity again.

Even if your mind was knocked out of the park, you still remember how he has never called on you for months. How he slept with others and not you. How when the slight bit of his ego got damaged, he commanded you to be on your knees for him. So yes, you do not know if this will ever happen again.

So you’ll take this chance.

His hand guided you to move faster on him, your tongue slurping against the shaft, allowing him to slide in easily over and over into your mouth. Your pussy clenched with need around absolutely nothing. The scent of him filling you, sweaty, and with the distinctive little hints of cackling wood in the fire.

Your belly turned at hearing his grunts, willing your eyes to open and look up at him, still moving your head, swallowing him in. He was looking down at you with his eyebrows meeting in the middle, groaning, growling, grunting under his breath. He looked in pain, or was it desperation? You couldn’t figure it out, but it can wait, right now you just want to keep tasting him.

You closed your eyes again, and his hips started moving against your movements, making him go a little deeper, beginning to touch the back of your throat. You started feeling the beginnings of your gags, but you focused on breathing through your nose. His grip tightened at the back of your head and then out of nowhere, he pushed you into his thrust. You yelped, or rather choked a yelp in surprise, feeling the tip of his cock pushing further into your throat.

Your eyes started burning, raising your hands to grab onto his right knee, a silent plea to pull away before you start gagging. But at the same time you didn’t want him away, because your nose was now into his pubic hair, his scent stronger than ever and the omega inside of you was elated.

“Taking me so good in that little mouth of yours. Such a good omega for me.” His voice was strained but you could only purr at his praise, but that action made you lose concentration and you gagged on him, coughing, and his grip loosened for you to pull away. You gasped for air as he got out of your mouth with a pop. You breathed heavily as you felt tears running down your cheeks, looking up at him with a lost look in your eyes.

“Did you say that to them as well?” The words were out of your mouth before you could think. Even in your delight, it seems the rejection you suffered these past months was not easy to forget. Not even if you were in the one thing you have wanted to experience all this time.

He was looking down at you in disbelief. He thought he was clear enough, but he was never good with words, and his actions could be better. He snarled down at you, his fangs showing in displeasure, but you didn’t back down and you hissed at him. Your omega wanted answers, defying the Alpha towering over you, and Eddie was taken aback by it.

You felt possessive, needing to know if he had knotted your coworkers, if he had called them omegas, if he had called them sweet yet nasty names. You felt this was your Alpha, and you were angry, saddened, disappointed. He wasn’t yours, but you certainly felt he was, and this is your excuse for the way you’re reacting.

“Dense as fuck. Cute, but aren’t you a dumb little thing?” You were stunned at his insult but you winced when he dug his fingertips into your scalp, pulling you up on your feet once more, and then he continued talking “-- let me do to you things I didn’t do with the rest.”

His lips were on yours in a frenzy, making you gasp in surprise, not expecting him to kiss you at all. He didn’t seem like the man to be keen on kissing, because most of the time people thought of it as intimate, or caring. Maybe he was not one of those people and you were completely wrong about him, because the fact is– You don’t know him at all.

But how could you complain when he didn’t care that you just had him in your mouth? His lips were hungrily devouring yours, tasting himself, and you. He groaned into the kiss, his chest rumbling in delight, resembling a purr that only made you whimper in need, your hands reaching up to grab onto his shirt. Your wrists started to hurt as you kept tugging at them to be able to touch, to feel more, but it seemed that he didn’t intend to take the tie off.

His teeth bit onto your bottom lip, and you winced as he tugged on it before pulling away. Your eyes fixated on him as he licked his teeth with his tongue and you could see the red tint on them. You were bleeding and he was moaning at the taste of it, which only made the slick overflow and run down your legs more than before.

You whined in need as you felt a cramp punching you in your belly. The need of his knot resembled that of a heat, but you knew you were not due yet. The last one you had, you asked for a week off, and it was a month ago. You had to wait for another month for your next heat, so you didn’t understand why you were cramping.

Was it because of him? Was it just his mere scent and touch enough to induce you into a placebo of a heat? Into the feel of it? He was clearly your scent mate, there was no question now. There were no doubts. To make you feel like a bitch in heat at any time of the month, that is only something scent mates are able to do.

His eyes found yours as you licked your bottom lip, tasting the iron of your own blood. It wasn’t a deep or long cut, but it was still a small one. His chest rumbled as he took a sharp intake of breath in, smelling you, your arousal, your slick. His eyes closed for a second as you stared at his features, wanting to grab onto his face and kiss him again, but– you were not able to.

“I need to fucking taste you.” You gasped at his words and then you were guided towards his desk. You saw him just throw everything on the floor, including important paperwork. You knew it was important because it was the same thing you have been working on the last week. Once the desk was cleared and he turned to face you again, you opened your mouth to complain, only to be interrupted by his hand gripping your bicep, tightly and pushing you against the desk, your hip hitting the edge of it.

You whimpered in pain, knowing very well that it would leave a bruise on your skin. Your breath got caught in your throat when his hands pressed on your waist and lifted you off the ground in order to place you on the desk. His breaths were heavy, looking at you with intensity and purpose. A shiver ran down your spine when his digits dug into the skin of your waist, fingernails seemingly sharper as it scratched your flesh.

A yelp escaped your lips as his hands pushed on your shoulders, making you fall back, laying down on the desk and quickly, his hands moved to your knees in order to spread your legs for him. You whimpered as you could tell there was a string of your slick connecting both your inner thighs, the cold air making it obvious. Tears of embarrassment filled your eyes as you turned your head to the side, hiding your face behind your tied hands.

“Don’t you dare fucking hide your face from me.” You didn’t listen, not caring for the warning growl he directed your way. Suddenly your hands were engulfed by a singular larger one and pushed upwards, over your head, your knuckles slamming against the hardwood of the desk. Your breathing hitched as your head looked back at him, a piercing and threatening gaze as he bared his teeth for your submission.

His eyes went towards your breasts, and without a second to waste, he dove downwards, taking your right nipple into his mouth. Your body jerked at the touch, and you bit your bottom lip to hold back a moan, only to whimper in pain as you remembered you had a cut. You realized he did it on purpose so you wouldn’t be able to bite onto anything to hold back your noises.

His tongue swirled on your perked nipple, making your stomach jump at the attention, his scent spiking up with a hint of sweetness, delight. An appreciative growl, a low purr vibrated in his throat at your taste, at your reaction to him. His free hand went to rub your left nipple, his calloused fingertips rough to the touch, and then he nipped on your right one, making you gasp as your back arched, his hand holding your wrists tightening.

He pinched and bit and sucked on your nipples like a man starved, like this was the one thing he had been dreaming about for an eternity. Your eyes widened in the haze of your lust as you saw him rubbing his neck against your breasts, passing his scent gland all over. He was marking you, putting a claim on you that you didn’t think he deserved even if you wanted it and wanted to chirp in contentment.

“Sir–”

“Alpha.” He demanded and your eyes clashed with his again. He was right on your face, eyes dark as he asked you to call him the one thing you have been wanting to call him the moment you smelled him six months ago. Why now? Should you comply? Should you call him what he wants, needs?

“A–A–” You tried, but you knew that the moment you called him that way, you were going to enter in a mild state of a hivemind. Your rationality will fade slowly, only caring for the knot of the Alpha that was towering over you right now. His knot, his scent, his bite. You felt his hand leave your wrists but before you could lower them, his hand grabbed your chin roughly, making you pucker your lips as you felt the rumble in his chest.

“I’m your Alpha, Omega, and you will call me as such.” He spat through his teeth and you could only whine, which got cut short when a moan replaced it. His hips pressed against yours and you could feel his cock pressing against your clothed, wet and throbbing cunt. You felt yourself clench at nothing. Absolutely nothing. You were fucking desperate.

“Y–You… are not mine… and I’m not yours.” Your voice was muffled by your puckered lips and he only hissed at you in complete displeasure, in disgust towards your words.

“We’ll change that tonight. Once and for all.” He removed his hand from your breast and held onto the elastic of your thong. You gasped in pain as he pulled, the lace digging into your skin the more he stretched it until you heard a rip. You hissed at the burn the pull left on your hip, and then his hand left your face, letting you move your jaw freely once more.

Your mind raced at his words, not knowing what he meant, looking at the ceiling as if it would whisper the answer to you, whisper the meaning of this whole act towards you, but your body jerked out of its trance when you felt his tongue running from the middle of your chest and downwards, tasting your sweat.

Your back arched as you held a moan in, trying not to bite onto your bottom lip when he pressed the tip of his tongue onto your belly. He was closer to where you had been wanting him the most for so long. You should stop this, but can you? Do you even have the willpower to do that? The answer was simple when you felt like puking at the idea of stopping him at all.

You felt his breath hit your pussy, your ripped thong still dangling on your right inner thigh. You shivered since the air made the wetness become cold, and you put your hands on your chest, not knowing where to place them. You heard him inhale deeply, a low rumble being heard from him.

“You smell so delicious… so fucking good My Rose.” You whined at the name, wanting to tell him to call you Omega, just like he demanded you to call him Alpha. You needed to hear it again, for your own sanity before you became someone that does not know the word ‘dignity’.

“I–” You couldn’t even start talking that his hot tongue licked your slick off your inner right thigh first, and he moaned in pleasure. Your eyes widened at the feeling of it, but mostly at the sound that came out of him, and it prompted your pussy to clench and more slick to come out on a string and down towards the table below you, at the edge of it.

He licked your left inner thigh now, slurped on it and then sucked on your skin, taking your cold juices into his mouth. Your breath was stuttering at the feeling as your pussy clenched and clenched, and you wanted to yell at him, to please touch you, lick you, eat you, just anything–

And your eyes widened when he flattened his tongue all over your slit to take a long lick from it. It felt divine, you were finally in bliss as your body felt like it was in flames. It felt as if someone threw a bucket of cold water on you, but it was a temporary relief. Unbeknownst to you, your boss was trembling at the taste of you as his dick twitched in absolute need.

The resemblance of a purr could be heard in the room, not coming from you, but from him. His hands dug into your inner thighs, fingertips marking you as he stared at your pussy, his breathing becoming slightly erratic the more he looked at it. And then, he didn’t hold back.

He went in, starved, desperate, his lips circling around your aching clit and sucking on it as he kept your legs spread for him. You gasped at the feeling and finally let a moan escape your lips, but Eddie was not even listening. You could smell his scent becoming stronger than before, and you couldn’t help but purr at the notice of high arousal, of pleasure, and it was all because of one lick on your pussy.

His tongue started lapping in between your folds, running all over and slurping all the slick that just kept coming out of you. He was moaning into you as you arched your back at every flick to your clit. He was making the most obscene sounds against you and you were loving it. You felt him pull away from you, a growl of pleasure escaping him and you wanted to look down but you couldn’t use your elbows to push yourself up to do so.

“You taste so good. So fucking good. I’m addicted, I knew I would be, but jesus fuck–” His tongue went back on you, a moan leaving you as he licked your clit and sucked on it to create that amazing friction you ached for. What does he mean? What does he mean by ‘he knew’? Did he want to do this to you before?

“Why– Why didn’t you ever–” You gasped when you felt his tongue sliding inside of you, your back arching towards the ceiling and the small of your back aching at the hardness of the desk below you. Your body was lit on absolute fire, burning you from inside out, not caring if you died in the process of it. It was almost unbearable.

He moaned loudly into you, his dick leaking precum each second that passed, twitching in need at the feel he has around his tongue. He wants to feel the fluttering of your walls that are on his tongue, around his cock. His nose rubbed against your clit as he shook his head a bit at you. He pulled away to run a finger over your slit, covering it in your juices.

“Look at it… So pretty for me. So ready to receive her Alpha.” Your pussy clenched on nothing at his praise, a purr vibrating in your throat as your hips moved against him, making the Alpha smirk in victory. “You want that, My rose? Want me to be your Alpha?”

You didn’t know if he was messing with you or not. How many times did he use this as his dirty talk when fucking Steve? Carol? Heather? How many times did he say these things to them? How many times have they fallen for this trick?

“Don’t– Don’t play with me.” A warning snarl was sent your way and your back arched as he roughly introduced his middle finger inside of you, a gasp escaping your lips.

“I’m going to make you beg for my knot. I’m going to hear you screaming for me. I’ll make sure of this.” His finger twirled upwards as he started thrusting in and out of you in short yet striking movements. Your soft spot was rubbed on, over and over again, and the moans were coming out of your mouth without any self control.

Your mind started becoming fuzzy the more pleasure you felt, the more slick that came out of you, and the more he moaned against you at each flick of his tongue on your clit. You didn’t want to comply with his orders, but you couldn’t fight your omegan instinct much longer.

“Oh– fuck!” You yelled out as you felt his ring finger join his middle one, his tempo increasing as he sucked on your clit, and the gushing sounds of your juices could be heard around the room, mixing with your moans, with his groans, and the smell of pure arousal was intoxicating and just making the both of you feel as if you were high.

The coil in your belly started turning, wildly, and you knew you were going to have a strong one. The one person you consider ‘Your Alpha’ was touching you the way you’ve always wanted, and by him and him only. How could you not purr? Chirp? Moan loudly?

Your hands went down to grab onto his hair, who had the bun already a bit messy from his movements, and even with your wrists tied, you managed to cling to him. He moaned into your pussy and your walls started clenching all around his fingers and that’s when you felt him add his index finger, your eyes widening at the stretch, but you felt a certain relief, like a wave of cold air washing over you.

“You need to be ready for my knot. C’mon Omega, cum around your Alpha’s fingers.” You moaned when he called himself your Alpha. As if it were true. As if he truly was just yours and for a moment you believed him as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, the loud squelching of juices even more depraved than before.

“Ed–Ed–” You stuttered out in between moans only to receive a growl in response and then you yelped as pain and pleasure mixed as he bit your clit, and even if it was gentle, it was still a sensible area. It was a warning, a threat to comply with his previous order.

“Say it.” And he twisted his fingers upwards as he made short thrusts yet quick and you felt your belly about to explode, your fingers digging into his hair as you pushed his head into you. Your knees were now bent, and you saw them tremble on the sides of his head. Your body started to shake as your mouth fell open and your eyes started going to the back of your head.

“A–Alpha!” Your orgasm crashed on you like a train, shaking you all over, short circuiting your brain and leaving you gasping for air as stars filled your vision. Eddie only cursed under his breath as his mouth latched onto your clit to help you ride your orgasm out, your pussy clenching around his fingers like a vice, and your slick was just running down, dripping from you.

He moaned at the taste of your orgasm, different to your normal slick. It was sweeter, tastier, and more intoxicating. Your grip loosened once you felt yourself stop trembling wildly, your walls unclenching from around his fingers as you slowly came down from your climax. Your breathing was heavy, feeling drained from how hard your orgasm was just now. You called him Alpha. You gave in.

Your eyes were closed as you felt him leave your clit, and slowly pulled his fingers out from you, making an involuntary whine escape your throat at the loss of him. You felt defeated. You gave him what you didn’t want to give to someone who only sees you as one more notch in his belt. Another Omega he knotted.

Your nose scrunched up as the air around you smelled way too intense, so much that you felt it prickle your nose. You couldn’t quite identify what it could be, but you felt like the appropriate word would be, desperation. Your eyes opened and you saw Eddie looking down at you, your slick all over his mouth, his fangs enlarged, his pupils blown out, and–

Your eyes widened as realization hit you. You were in the presence of an Alpha that had a triggered semi-rut. Your eyes went down to his still exposed pelvis, and his dick was larger, and just purely red and pulsing with need. Precum just oozed out from the tip and dripped down the shaft, and it was all for you.

And your mind was gone.

“A– Alpha…” You whimpered as your hivemind took over. Your irises were gone from how wide your pupils were, and your slick was overflowing the edge of the desk and falling onto the floor. Drip. Drip. Drip. You raised your knees towards your chest, letting you show off your pussy to him, presenting yourself in a semi mating press.

He licked his lips as he looked down at you, his chest moving up and down as he hissed through his teeth. Your Alpha, for some reason, you felt like he was fighting against something. It felt as if he was trying to fight off the rut. But you didn’t want him to. Maybe he knots you, and breeds you, hopefully. You want a pup with him, a pup from your scent mate, yes.

“Please, Alpha, my Alpha…” You begged and that was enough for Eddie to come out of his trance, his hands moving to the back of your knees for support as he moved his hips forward, and his cock ran over your slicked folds, making you moan desperately as you salivated in your mouth. “More, more, more–”

“Yes my Omega. My beautiful Omega… My Rose, your Alpha will give you more. Always.” His tip caught on your entrance and you gasped and you showed your Alpha your wrists, begging for him to take them off so your hands could touch him properly.

“I need to touch you, please, I’ll be good, I promise!” He immediately worked on the tie, yanking it off, probably ripping it apart in the process, and your hands shot up, trying to unbutton his shirt, whining with need to see, touch, feel his skin. His hands grabbed onto the collar of his shirt and he pulled, the buttons snapping and the shirt was ripped open, a breath of relief leaving his lips.

Your eyes scanned the tattooed chest, just a few tattoos here and there, scars that littered all over his stomach as well. You could hear your heartbeat into your ears, your body setting on fire at the sight of the layer of sweat covering his skin. Your hands, now with painful markings around their wrists but you could care less about that now, went forward to touch his stomach.

Fingernails scratched onto the flesh as another thrust of his hips made the tip enter you for just a second, a desperate whimper leaving your lips as you looked up at him with a pleading look. Why isn’t your Alpha taking you? Does he not want you? Are you not as pretty as the others? Your belly cramped, making you clench your eyes as pain shot towards your entire body.

“She didn’t knot you, didn’t she?” Your eyes shot open at the question and you looked at the man towering over you as his grip tightened underneath your knees. You wanted to tell him the truth, comply, but you were also feeling betrayed, used, and played with.

“D-Did you knot them?” Your voice was small and shaky, knowing you weren’t in the position to question the Alpha. You were in a vulnerable state, completely open for the kill.

And with a loud growl, the biggest one you heard him give yet, he seethed himself inside of you in one powerful thrust.

You threw your head back as you shrieked at the sudden stretch, at the sudden pressure and the pain. It wasn’t great, but it was still painful, yet, your cramps stopped, just a little bit. They stopped stinging like knives, leaving a pain that can only be calmed by a knot. His knot. Tears ran down your cheeks as you gasped for air, your mouth open while you stared at the ceiling, and he bottomed inside of you, inch by inch.

He was big, the biggest you’ve ever had and it felt good, yet painful even with the foreplay. You pissed him off with your response, and you knew it because you could still hear him growling inside of his chest, groaning at the feel of you around him.

His pelvis clashed against yours and you guided one of your hands towards your belly and you could swear you could feel him when you pressed. He was too deep inside of you and– and– you needed him to move. He needs to move. Your cramps are coming back as well as the cloudiness of your mind.

“P-Please Alpha, move–”

“I won’t move until you tell me.” His voice came out through his teeth as he looked down at you. More tears ran down your eyes as you tried to move your hips against him and he snarled at you in warning. “Tell me!”

“She didn’t! I couldn’t! The only– The only knot I want is–” And a sob ripped out of you as you looked at the man above you. It wasn’t fair, to be in this state and having no control, and knowing that after this, it would be forgotten, a fling of the moment because his ego got smashed.

“Is mine. The only knot you want is mine… And it’s the only one you’ll ever get from now on.” And his hips reeled back, only to slam themselves against you once again, making you choke up on a moan, your breath being knocked out of you instantly, the tip of his cock hitting the deepest part inside of you.

He felt divine, the burning of the first thrust slowly dissipating the more he moved his hips, going in and out of you as you adjusted to his size. The cramps were obscured by the waves of pleasure that your body started to feel, your limbs becoming limp for him to maneuver however he liked.

His fingertips were bruising your skin and his eyes were fixed where the two of you were connecting over and over again, and he grunted in pleasure at the sight, seeing himself disappear inside you, filling you up and feeling your cunt squeezing him, friction burning him from head to toes.

“Ah–” You gasped into your moan as he straightened up to pick up the pace, pulling his cock all the way out, leaving the tip inside, only to then go back in at a steady pace. Your hands flew to the edges on each side of the desk, trying to ground yourself as your mind reeled, your Omegan pheromones only making the Alpha in the room even more feral.

“So good, fuck, you feel so good baby. So, so, so fucking good.” He hissed out, his eyebrows meeting in the middle, a strained look on his face as his jaw clenched, still looking down at his cock going into your pussy, and he could see how your slick overflowed all around him.

You chirped at the praise as you bounced on the desk at each hit of his hips against yours, moans coming out of both your mouths and your rationality shut off once more as another cramp suddenly hit your belly. You weren’t being satisfied. Your needs were not being met and you were becoming restless.

“M-More…” You whimpered and he only tsked as he kept the same pace, not relenting to your begging.

“More what?” He knew exactly what you wanted, and he was playing with you. Tears of exasperation filled your eyes as you moved your hips in retaliation, making him hiss at you from the sudden action.

“More please? Please Alpha… I need– Faster, rougher– It hurts, it hurts–” And you were referring to that in so many ways. How your cramps hurt right now because your body needs and requires his knot, or how your whole soul hurt these past months knowing he never chose you for this before. He chose others, right in your face.

“Anything for my dumb little omega.” You didn’t know why he was insulting you, but you had no time to think. Your eyes widened as you gasped, followed by pleased mewls and loud moans as his hips started snapping against yours, the slapping on skin bouncing on every wall and bookcase, echoing thanks to the tall ceiling above you.

You now realize why he made everyone leave the entire floor.

His pace was rough, deep and fast, fucking into you desperately and your fingernails dug into the wood of the edge’s of the desk as you felt your insides being basically rearranged by him. Your cramps were still there but getting his cock inside of you helped somewhat, the pleasure overpowering it at times. You were loud, crying your moans out, your breaths, your huffs, and the yelling of his name.

His eyes were fixated now on your body, how it moved up and down thanks to his movements, your tear stained face, your open mouth that only let out filthy sounds, mumbling his name on the low in the haze of it all. You felt yourself start to flutter around his dick, the abuse against your g-spot making it an easy climax from the overstimulation. New tears prickled your eyes as your body jerked at every thrust, your belly coiling up, causing another cramp to happen. You whined loudly as your hips started meeting with his thrusts, desperately.

“Please, please, Eddie, my Alpha, more–” You were begging, pleading, imploring him to help you, because you were feeling good, but you weren’t at the same time because you needed more, your body still unsatisfied. You knew what it wanted, and it wasn’t just his knot. You wanted his bite.

“Tell me what you want.” You mewled as his thrusts turned deep, his hips coming to a slower pace and he circled them against you. You didn’t want to tell him, it is too embarrassing, knowing he is only doing this just for lust, and that he has done it with the rest, many times. Suddenly, a cry tore out from your mouth and you looked at Eddie with his teeth biting into your right calf. Your body jerked at the sudden bite, and your hands flew in reflex to try to grab him, but you weren’t strong enough to push yourself up and towards him.

“It hurts– Stop–” He growled as he pulled away from your skin, blood at the corner of his mouth, teeth glistening with a crimson hue. You looked at the bite, at his mark in your flesh and you chirped at the sight, wanting the same mark around your mating gland. It looked so pretty, so perfect, and it felt like you were owned. He hissed at you and his hips came to a halt, bottoming out inside of you.

“Tell me what you want. I won’t continue until you tell me.” His jaw was clenched, the vein on his neck popping out from how much he was holding himself back from continuing your very destruction. You whined once more as you felt the burning of his bite on your calf, a drop of blood oozing out.

“I– I can’t– Not when you knotted… the others– embarrassing, Alpha, it’s embarrassing–” You were sobbing now, the pain from the past six months rushing back to you in a wave, clashing against the happiness you feel now, making you a bit dizzy from the mix of emotions.

You heard him sigh and you dared to look at him through your tears, and he was looking down at you with a pained look. Why is he looking at you like that? Maybe it’s pity? Or maybe he feels sorry for how dumb you are? How naive? Or maybe–

“Oh my Omega… I have never knotted any of them.”

Your eyes fully opened at that, your heart thrumming in your chest as your body shook with excitement against your own will. What did he say? You saw his tongue darting out, his hand caressing your calf gently and pushing it towards his mouth so he can lick the wound clean. He side eyed you as he did this action, making your pussy clench around him, making the both of you hiss, remembering the position you are in.

“But– But I heard–”

“And I never complied.” He took his hands off your calf and the back of your left knee to lean forward. Your breathing was erratic, your hands immediately flying to hold onto his shoulders to pull him closer. His hands caged you in, one on each side of your head as he looked down at you. “-- I couldn’t comply.”

You blinked with confusion and doubt in your eyes. You wanted to believe him, you really wanted to, but–

“Why?” Was the question flying out of your mouth and he leaned down towards you, his lips finding purchase on yours and you could only purr out of instinct, your heart exploding with happiness and joy inside your chest, trying to take the spotlight off of the thunder raging in your head.

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, and your legs around his waist, pushing him into you. You both groaned at the action, making him pull away from the soft peck, his pupils back to being completely dilated and you moaned as his cock twitched inside of you. A growl escaped him as he quickly wrapped his arms around your frame and lifted you off the desk, a gasp leaving your lips and your grip tightened all around him.

You knew his instincts kicked in again, his mind clouded once more, but the knowledge that he never knotted the others was starting to settle in your head, and it was slowly making you go back to that state of mind where the only thing that mattered was being bred and knotted by the Alpha that was holding you tightly in his arms.

You felt yourself being lowered and the carpet hit your back, your eyes finding the ceiling once again. His hands grabbed onto your knees and he pulled them away from himself, making you untangle your legs from his waist. He bared his teeth at you as you didn’t let go of his shoulders, and you quickly complied, submitting yourself to him.

“Good Omega. My Omega.” He suddenly pulled out from you as he kneeled back and you whined with a sob, lifting yourself with help of your elbows to look at him.

“NO! Alpha, please, I need your knot, please– Why are you doing this? I–” His hand pressed against your chest and pushed you back down, snarling at you to let him work. You gasped when he grabbed onto your knees, keeping them apart, but then roughly pushing them up towards your chest, and you felt your hips rising from the ground, bending your body slightly.

His knees were now on each side of your hips as he leaned forward, towering over your frame, his cock twitching and your eyes could see the base of his cock pulsating, ready for his knot to pop. You purred and salivated at it, wanting it, desiring it, needing it and then you realized–

You were put in a mating press.

His cock went in with one harsh thrust, and you swear you could feel him at the back of your throat as you threw your head back. Your hands grabbed onto the carpet below you for some grounding, but you only let yourself smile in pleasure, in bliss, as you felt him burn inside of you.

His knuckles were white from how hard his grip was on your knees to keep you in that position. A position that helps with fecundation. He groaned loudly when you clenched around him, your climax coming back to you as if it had never left moments ago. Your belly ached, cramped, turned, but most of all, it burned. It was burning you with the need of release, the need to be filled, the need of him.

His thrusts started quick and powerful, knocking the breath out of you at each jerk, the carpet burning your back as you rubbed it back and forth. You couldn’t care less. Not the burn of the back or the pain of your wrists or the bite on your calf. He could hurt you, bend you, break you, and you would be fine with all of that. At least, you mean something to him that way. Something different than the rest.

“Mine. Mine. Mine. You’re fucking mine.” He growled, over and over again while he fucked into you like a madman, like an animal. He was sweating, your eyes following every drop, his hair clinging to the sides of his face, and he was the most beautiful person in this whole wide world. He is calling you his, maybe thanks to his small triggered rut, but you had no time to feel the pain of that realization yet.

“Alpha, it feels so good. Fill me up, please, pretty please–” You didn’t recognize your voice. Needy, dripping with lust and pleasure, and you don’t remember a single time you talked like this. Not even when you shared your heats with your ex. You never begged like this. This is what a scent mate does to someone. It turns you fucking stupid.

The slapping of skin was filthy, wet sounds following them because your slick was being produced at each thrust of his. It was probably a mess, and you know it because you turned your head to see the edge of the desk you laid on moments ago, and the side had your slick dripping down in a single streak towards the floor, and a small pool of it formed at the foot of the desk.

His thighs were drenched in you, and you moaned loudly at the thought, your eyes returning to meet his. He moaned your name under his breath and you trembled at the sound of it. He called you by your name, not rose, not omega. Your name. It made your belly come closer and closer to the edge, pussy fluttering and clenching all around him as he continued his powerful thrusts.

Your vision became blurry as tears mixed with how cockdrunk you became, but you could see a thin silver necklace dangling from his neck, back and forth. Your nails dug into the carpet underneath you as your breath picked up a pace, feeling the coil in your stomach and belly turn wildly, your orgasm threatening you to explode at any second.

“Alpha– Alpha– I’m–” And he grunted as your eyes widened with a surprised gasp when you felt the beginning of his knot start to hit your entrance. You could feel it popping in and then back out, his teeth bared and he finally looked at you, a yellow glint flashing in his eyes as he stared down at you.

“I’m going to knot you. I’m going to knot you and breed you, over and over and over again… And I’m going to mate you.” You didn’t know if you were making it up, you didn’t know anymore. It sounded way too good to be true– “Oh, you don’t believe me?”

Your eyes widened, shock washing over you as you tried to talk, only for loud cries to escape your lips when his thrusts became hard, rough, and the knot started swelling more and more, making it a little painful when it started popping in and out of you. Your mind was a haze, the only need being his knot. His knot. His knot.

“Alph–” You couldn’t talk because of this position, which was a bit straining, and the air was just simply knocked out of you at each thrust. You couldn’t breathe properly, feeling as if you were going to pass out. His teeth were now bared, fangs just slightly enlarged, snarling as he huffed in pleasure.

“You’re mine. All mine. Forever mine, my omega.” Your pussy clenched at the words, your mind no longer your own, and you cried out as your climax finally hit you, tightening all around his cock and now, his knot swelling instantly, impossible to pull out without hurting you, so he braced himself on his knees to push deep into you, and then he moaned loudly as his breath trembled when he locked himself inside of you, his cum filling your belly.

Your pussy milked him as your cramps finally stopped, leaving you in the stars. Your trembling was intense as you felt him spill inside of you and the more you clenched, the more cum he let out. It was never ending, the both of you moaning, groaning, and purring. He moved his hips once, a whimper leaving your lips and a growl rumbling in his chest.

He let go of your knees, his breathing heavy, his nostrils flaring as he leaned forward, his upper body bending as one hand cradles the back of your head, while the other holds your left bicep. His eyes clashed with yours, breaths intertwining between the two of you, chests heaving as the scents inside the room made your head spin.

He leaned down and you felt him lick the scent gland on your neck, his cock twitching inside of you and you swore you could feel more cum leaking out from him. You groaned, your eyes closing as he tasted you. His chest rumbled as he pressed his own scent gland against yours, true to his word. He cleansed the other alpha’s smell from you, replacing it with his own. He then proceeded to scent your mating gland, which only broke you.

He marked you in ways he probably doesn’t understand. After this, the two of you will go back to boss and secretary. You will have to leave, leaving this, leaving him behind you. Turn him into your past. You will probably have to go to an omegan therapist after this, and you would also leave Robin–

And the world stopped.

Everything. The universe. The stars. Your own breath. Your heart. Time itself. What…?

And then, fire. Fire spreading all over you coming from your mating gland. Your mating gland that was suddenly bitten into by the alpha that had his knot deep inside of you. You were bitten. He bit you. He claimed you. You were now his.

A scream ripped out from your chest as another orgasm came crashing out of nowhere, clenching around him like a vice, milking him even more. He moaned into your skin, the hand on the back of your head holding you tightly as you shook underneath him. You didn’t understand anything. He was telling the truth. Eddie… Your– Your Alpha. He was your alpha now. For real.

He pulled away from you with a gasp for air, your blood all over his lips and teeth. You could feel his pleasure. His joy. His desire. His fear. His nervousness. His ecstasy. His delightfulness. Everything. He pressed a soft kiss on your lips, your shock still apparent, even if the kiss sent a million jolts of electricity through your body.

He pulled away with a chuckle and he proceeded to lean down again, pushing your head into his own mating gland this time. Your eyes were lost as you wondered what he wanted, his smell slowly bringing you down to earth once more, time moving again, the stars and the universe continuing their course.

“Bite me. Bite me back Omega.” Surprise was displayed on your features as soon as he said those words. It wasn’t common for omegas to bite their alphas back to seal the bond, the mating process, but people say it’s for the bond to be permanent, for eternity, for the mates to find eachother in this time and the next.

Your hands went towards his back, your nails dragging across his shirt, he never took it off. You could feel how damp it was thanks to the sweat, clinging to his body, and now– your eyes filled with tears, knowing now that he also knew you were his scent mate. This was never one sided. You have a lot of questions to ask him, but now… right now–

Your small fangs pierced through his mating gland.

He gave a small whimper as you felt iron filling your mouth. His blood. His scent. He was now all over you, and inside of you, in every sense and way possible. You moaned at his taste when you felt him twitch inside of you once more, his knot pulsing. You couldn’t believe it. As you retreated your mouth from him and laid your head back down on the carpet, you finally smiled.

He looked down at you, and you knew he was hoping you weren’t mad at him. He took your liberty and freedom in a single night thanks to his jealousy. To his possessiveness. To his fear of losing you. Your right hand moved towards his face, caressing his cheek gently, and he gave you a reassuring smile, closing his eyes, leaning towards your touch.

This is the first time you saw him like this. Vulnerable. A true smile of happiness on his lips, and it was all because of you. How could you be mad at him when he gave you what you’ve been wanting for the past six months you’ve known him? Something you didn’t think was possible, or that it was just in your head, or it was simply one sided? No… You could never be mad at him for it.

“My Alpha…” You whispered, your breaths starting to slow down as exhaustion started to wash over you, knowing your body will ache the following day, but you couldn’t care less. His eyes opened again, and he leaned down to press a soft kiss on your lips, a huff escaping his nose in pure delight. He pulled away a second later, his right hand caressing the side of your face, wiping your tears away. Tears you didn’t notice had fallen down your eyes.

“My Omega… Mine only… so dumb for not realizing what I was trying to say…” Your eyes closed as a satisfied sigh escaped your lips, relief washing over you. His hand kept caressing your face, his soft lips pressing on your forehead, your cheek, tender and caring. Keeping you safe in his arms, his embrace being your safest nest, at least for tonight.

“Eddie…” You mumbled as your consciousness started to slip away as slumber started to overtake you. You heard your name being called out by him after a soft kiss was pressed against your forehead. Your heart now filled with joy, your mating gland ablaze, but you could not feel the pain.

“Rest darling… I’ll keep you safe.”

And then, darkness.

His back was against the headboard of the bed hidden inside his office. He just had to press a button and a bookcase would fall down to reveal itself as a king sized mattress. He held his cellphone on his left hand, calling on Chrissy while his right arm was around your sleeping frame, completely knocked out as you laid on your side, your head on his chest and right hand over his heart.

Once he knew his knot had deflated, he got you both in a more comfortable position. He will have to explain himself to you but now, he had to–

“Tell me you didn’t boss.” Chrissy’s voice blasted in his ear, making him hiss and pull the phone away from him. His fingers were softly brushing your back, keeping you asleep.

“It is done.” His voice was low as he looked down at you, your breaths coming out from your mouth evenly and calm. A soft smile appeared on his lips, feeling the wound of your bite pulsing and burning on his shoulder, but it only made him happier. He heard Chrissy letting out an exasperated sigh on the other side of the phone, making his smile fall and look out the window.

“We haven’t solved the issue with the Hagans. You had to wait until that was finished! They will now know about your mate and target her!” His jaw clenched as his arm tightened around your frame, making you whimper slightly at the tightness but not in pain, just a sound in your sleep.

“I won’t let them touch her, you know that.” Chrissy sighed once more. He knew his right hand was right, but he couldn’t– “Chris, I couldn’t let her slip away from me. She is my scent mate. It was going to happen sooner or later, and the other omegas were not a useful distraction any longer.”

“I know Eddie…” There was a moment of silence before Chrissy continued talking, “but it doesn’t take away the fact that she will be targeted from now on. Something you were trying to avoid all this while by keeping your distance… So, what now?”

And Eddie pondered. He looked out the window as his mind worked, the need to protect you now ten times bigger, may he say twenty thanks to the bond. You two are mated for life now. In this life and the next, and the next, and he has to protect you with everything that he is, even if his own life is at risk.

“Then I guess I have to kill Tommy once and for all and take the clan for myself.” Chrissy remained silent on the other side. It wasn’t how it was supposed to go at all. He was going to do it peacefully, but Tommy was not a bright or reasonable leader. He was never happy about Eddie’s negotiations, always threatening him and his group, and Eddie knows he will threaten your life in order to get what he wants.

So he prefers to have Tommy’s head in his hands than wait for him to do something stupid.

“Alright… It’s settled.” He hears a rustling of papers, knowing she is taking down notes. He feels you stir slightly, but you just fixed your head on his chest, letting out a soft sigh as you kept sleeping. “And then?”

Eddie frowned in thought and looked down at your frame. A smirk spread on his face as he looked all over your body, his eyes resting over your waist, seeing your belly from the side.

“Get me a house. Somewhere residential, private, secure.” His voice was imperative, and he knew Chrissy was going to comply with no questions asked.

“Alright. How many rooms?” And his lips pressed on the top of your head as a smile spread on them, almost wickedly so.

“Let’s start… with four.”

End

a/n: time to get bred ig, hope u enjoyed, don't forget to leave a reblog, a comment on the reblog doesn't hurt either pretty pls

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fics #fanfiction #stranger things #alpha!eddie munson #alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader #omegaverse #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #mafia!eddie munson #smut #omega!reader

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messylxve · 13 days ago

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SPILLED COFFEE ──CLARK KENT!

2025!clark kent x reader 1.3k fluff-ish rivals to lovers

!spoil-free for superman (2025)!

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Clark Kent wasn’t Superman.

Sure physically he was. Behind the glasses, terrible posture, and clumsiness he was the daring, charming, yet humble man of justice the public adored. But when the glasses and tousled hair came back on and he slipped into his desk in front of yours, any trace of that quick-witted, charming superhero persona faded away.

The worst part was, you clearly liked Superman more than you liked Clark Kent and for that, he had absolutely no clue why. It wasn’t like you talked to him long enough to tell him in detail why you smiled less around him compared to everyone else.

Even now, from across the room, he saw as you held a genuine conversation with Cat over the printer. She was doing most of the talking, her movements rather animated as she told you all about her weekend. But it was your reactions that held Clark’s attention. You held a rare smile—at least one that was rarely pointed at Clark—as you laughed at Cat’s story.

He recognized your laugh, it wasn’t like your “customer service laugh”, nor the laugh you gave Steve that implied his joke wasn’t really funny. It was open and genuine, the laugh he only got to see when he was Superman.

Clark's lips dipped down into a frown, his eyes flickering back to his computer where he was looking at the article that published in place of yours.

At the very least, he knew you were upset about that. After all it was your pitch that pushed the story, your groundwork giving it its spine. All he did was get a few more “interview” questions than you did. It was presented to Perry as something to aid you, make the article more complete. When Perry requested it be a collaborative piece, Clark certainly did imagine that meant him accidentally hijacking the whole work.

If you weren’t snippy around him before, you definitely were now.

With a final sigh, Clark closed the page and swiveled his chair to face Jimmy who looked to be getting done as much work as him.

“Jimmy,” Clark coughed. “I need advice on something.”

With a grin, the boy wheeled over to Clark’s desk, excited for any excuse to pull him away from his screen. “How can I be of assistance?”

Clark readjusted in his chair, fiddling with his thumbs absentmindedly. “I get this feeling that y/n doesn’t like me much an–,”

“That’s a bit of an understatement,” he coughed in an attempt—a terrible attempt— to cover a laugh, only making Clark’s face fall.

“It’s that bad?”

Jimmy paused, narrowing his eyes like he wasn’t sure if Clark was serious or setting him up for a joke.

Clark waited, eyebrows raised, but then watched as Jimmy’s skepticism slowly morphed into a smile, then a grin before bursting into a fit of laughter, this time trying—and failing—to stifle it.

“I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t be laughing but,” he took a moment to catch his breath. “I thought you were meant to be the smart one.”

“What’s that supposed to mean,” the man exclaimed, his voice going up the octave much to his distaste.

“It means,” Jimmy finally sighed, a trace of a laugh still left on his face, “if I had a choice to be trapped in a room between you two, or them and Steve, I’d choose Steve.”

Clark frowned, running a hand down his face. “You’re really not helping Jimmy. Is it because of the article last week? Cause I tried to apologize, they just kinda brushed me off.”

“I’d say it’s less of the article and more of all the articles.”

Clark blinked, confusion now taking his face once more. “What do you mean?”

“It’s not the first time you’ve overshadowed them for a Superman related project. They tend to keep count,” the boy paused, leaning towards Clark. “Are you telling me you really didn’t notice?”

Clark squeezed his shoulders in a shrug, recounting the few conversations you had with him Superman. “I did, I just assumed it was something bigger I’d done. Like maybe insult their ma.”

Jimmy tossed a quick glance over to you, still talking to Cat by the printer. “Look, if you’re trying to get in good graces with them, do something small. Surprise them with coffee, pass one of your ideas off as theirs. Doesn’t have to be a grand show, just show them that you’re not trying to be some sort of rival.”

Clark thought about it, letting the idea run through in his mind before he wrinkled his nose. “Rival is a heavy word.”

“But accurate.”

Clark took Jimmy’s advice to heart, waking up early and going straight to a nearby coffee shop, this time picking up two cups instead of his usual one.

Mornings in the Daily Planet were busy and crowded, half of the population wrapping up loose ends from the day before and the other half getting in new intel and story opportunities.

When he arrived to your shared area, you were nowhere to be seen, much to Clark’s disappointment.

“Uh Lois,” he called to the passing woman. “Is y/n in today?”

“They’re in Perry’s office running a rough draft on a recent update with the Boravian conflict.”

Clark pursed his lips together, his plan already not going to plan. He hesitated for just a moment, debating whether or not to hand it to you in person or to just leave it.

After a moment of thought, he placed it down gently before reaching a sticky note on your desk, scribbling something on it.

“Hey loser,” a sudden, loud voice exclaimed. “Didn’t see you come in this morning.”

“Hey Steve,” Clark sighed, still hunched over the note that was getting longer than it was initially going to be.

Clark felt as Steve went to pat him on the back, as aggressively as usual. However, between being hunched over the desk and the hot cup of coffee dangerously close to his moving hand, he bumped right into the cup and like a domino, the contents on your desk became soaked in the hot drink.

“Shoot,” Clark exclaimed, reaching for the papers on your desk with hope to save them. Holding one page up hopelessly, he could see the soggy paper and washed away the ink of your handwriting.

“What. Did you do?”

Clark stilled like a deer in headlights, turning around to see you with wide eyes, your left one visibly twitching.

“I thought I could be nice, surprise you but–,”

But his words went bypassed when your eyes settled on your voice recording device in the middle of the hot brown puddle.

“Dammit,” you exclaimed, springing forward to fish it out, but the damage was done. It dripped with coffee when you picked it up and the screen was long from turning on again.

“I had a whole hour of a Superman interview on here,” you said, your voice cracking to a whisper as you shut your eyes and pressed a hand to your forehead.

“I’m so sorry,” Clark breathed. “I was only trying to hel–,”

“It’s fine Kent just–,” you paused, taking a deep breath and pressing your lips into a thin line, a dozen unspoken thoughts evaporating behind your silence. “It’s fine.”

He could only step aside as you brushed past him, cradling the recorder in your hands.

“That went…” Jimmy trailed off as took a step next to Clark, observing the mess. “Well it went.”

Clark cringed, turning to the shorter boy. “How did I mess up that bad?”

Jimmy only shook his head, a semi-reassuring pat left on Clark’s shoulders. “Forgiveness is an uphill battle some days. Trust me, I know.”

Clark pushed a half-hearted smile on his face. “Try try again, right?”

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teliphone · 9 months ago

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Corrupt Desire

Summary: You’re an FBI agent who successfully captured the deadliest hitman, Rio Vidal. You hate to admit you have fallen in love with the criminal. Rio's psychotic games rope you back into her life. Just as she calculated, you can’t help but fall to your knees for her. Her beauty and sinister mind make her too irresistible.

Warning(s): Smut, Oral, Fingering, Manipulation.

Word Count: 5.9k

“Put your bag in the bin please,” The security guard orders from the side. You take your large bag off your shoulders and place it into the bin. The guard slides it past the metal scanner and gestures to you to step forward. Before you can grab your bag, a female guard stops you. She snaps on light-blue latex gloves as she looks at your figure up and down with a stern face.

“I have to search your body for any weapons or illegal substances,” She explains. You shyly smile and nod your head. A body search is a requirement when entering through this specific prison. She walks over til she is face to face with you. Her blue eyes stare briefly into yours, causing you to glance at the ceiling. She starts to run her fingers along your arms. Then you feel her slide down your hips to your thighs. Her fingers tug around the inside of your waistband. Lastly, she quickly slides along your core area. You feel a small blush appear out of embarrassment.

“You’re clear,” She reports. You quietly thank her and straighten yourself to grab your bag. She nods her head and tosses the gloves into the trash. She disappears behind the security door. You reach into the bag and shuffle around to find your ID card. You press the card against the glass and the front desk security writes your information down. The gates buzz and unlock. You tighten your grip on your bag and hesitate to step ahead. Before you can proceed, gates swing open and a man with a gray beard walks out. Judging by his badge you could tell he is the head warden of the prison. His button-up shirt is wrinkled with an obvious coffee stain around the stomach area. You avert your eyes up to his face to avoid staring.

“You must be the FBI agent coming to interview Rio Vidal,” He assumes while rubbing his belly. You feel your stomach turn at the mention of her.

“Yes, it’s nice to meet you,” You greet with a smile. You bring out a hand to shake, but he looks away too soon. You stare at your awkward hand with an embarrassing blush before placing it back on your side. He starts walking down the halls while explaining to you about the interview you were about to conduct. You quicken your steps to catch up with him. You glance around the hall, examining how everything is locked up and secured. It is also eerie quiet.

“-Rio refuses to speak with anyone but you,” He informs, bringing your attention back to him. You furrow your eyebrows.

“Why?” You question. He lets out a dry chuckle as if you just asked a silly obvious question. He doesn’t respond which makes you want the world to swallow you full. He leads you to another gate, a step closer to where the prisoners are stationed. He stops walking and presses his key card on a scanner. The gate buzzes and clicks open again. He opens the gate for you and gestures to you through. As you walk in, you take a peek through a random room and accidentally make eye contact with an inmate. Tattoos coated his whole skin and his dark eyes are calculated. He is getting checked up by a police officer. The inmate tilts his head slowly and smirks. He looks at you hungrily and jerks his hand up and down in a provocative gesture. The officer snaps his finger in front of the inmate and yells at him to focus. You quickly look away and grimace in disgust.

“Sorry about that. Most inmates here have been locked up for ages… they tend to get hot pants,’ He laughs, ‘We get the most dangerous criminals in our facility. Our security is more uptight. It’s hard to do anything around here… if you know what I mean.”

He lets out another chuckle, proud of his humor. You give him a nervous forced laugh. Thankfully he buys it and continues showing you the way.

“About Rio… you mentioned she refuses to talk to anyone?” You bring her back into the topic. The reason why you’re here in the first place.

“Correct. Many officers and detectives have been trying to get her to speak. All she says is to bring you,” He answers. You nibble your bottom lip and feel anxiety creeping up. It was one simple reason: you were the one who got her caught and arrested.

“How… has she been?” You ask.

“She’s quiet and lonely. No one dares to talk to ‘lady of death’.” He chuckles at the nickname that has spread throughout the prison. You look down at the floor. You clench your hands around the strap of your bag and shake your head. No, you shouldn’t feel bad. She’s a criminal.

Before you know it, you have finally reached a room with a gate. It’s guarded by two guards with a rifle attached to their bodies. They stand with their heads lifted high. Their faces lack emotion. You have never seen someone guarding a door with guns that big. You wonder if that was necessary. The Warden notices your staring.

“We need to take great precautions with Rio,” He explains. He unlocks the gate and you peek inside. There is a simple table with two chairs placed on opposite sides. There is nothing much else in the room, to limit any harm that could be done. You tug your bag closer to your body.

“You don’t need to worry. There will be a guard inside the room with you. We will be watching in a room next door with the cameras we placed,” He assures. You weren’t necessarily nervous about getting harmed. You were anxious about seeing her. Nevertheless, you squeeze a smile at him and start walking into the room. You notice the installed camera in the top left corner. A camera that doesn’t voice record and only visually records. You take a seat furthest from the door. You place your bag down and pull out a file, notepad, and a pen. You place your hands on top of the notepad and start playing with your fingers. The waiting game is eating you up, making you more nervous than ever. You self-cautiously brush your hair to make yourself look decent and press your lips together to try and get some color in it. It has been a long time since you have last seen her. You stop your movement and drop your shoulders. You feel guilty thinking about the past. Guilty about the things you did to her.

You were placed on a top-secret case by your FBI team. Rio Vidal is the deadliest hitman. The mission was simple: Get close to Rio and get her to let her guard down so she can be captured. The only reason why you were chosen is because Rio has a history of being with younger women. You didn’t realize how much she trusted you until the doors of her apartment were getting kicked down. She quickly rushed to shield you. You feel your heart crack in guilt. Officers full of gear rushed in and pulled you away from her while the other half grabbed her. She thrashed against their hold. You yell at the officers to be more gentle on her as she is being shoved onto the ground to be handcuffed. Your FBI partner walked over and gave you a pat on the back. Usually, you would be happy, but in this case, you couldn’t. When Rio looked at you, you could see the realization sink in. It was a slight movement, but you saw it. Her eyebrows furrowed, and her eyes expressed hurt. Just as quickly as you saw it, as fast it disappeared. She replaced it with a cold-hearted smile. You tense up and freeze. That’s the last sight you saw of her.

You see a body appear behind the gate. The bright color orange catches your eyes first. You feel your heart stop pounding. There is Rio Vidal in the orange prison uniform. She stares at you with an unexplainable expression. You nervously gulp. The gate swings open and the guards push her to take a step. She stumbles a little. Her hands are cuffed with loose chains around her ankle. The metal chain sounds loud in the quiet room. The guards shove her into the seat and she lets out a soft grunt. You flinch at their actions. You believe they didn’t have to be that aggressive with her. They turn around and start to leave.

“Excuse me,” Rio speaks up. Her voice sounds deeper and raspier than you remembered. The guards stop in their tracks and look over. She brings her handcuffed hands up and waves them.

“How can I have a pleasant time with my date if I’m cuffed?” She smiles. You feel your cheeks warm up. They look at you for permission in which you nod your head. You trust she won’t do anything. Rio smirks and brings her hand to the guards. She watches closely as they take out a key and start unlocking her handcuffs and chains. She slowly rolls her free wrists and hums in delight. The deep sound from her throat makes you gulp. Finally, one guard leaves while one remains in the room near the door. Rio turns her body fully to face you. You take note of her features. Prison hasn’t been gentle to her. Her eyes look tired and wrinkles are starting to form. But even with that, you couldn’t deny the attractiveness that she holds. She tilts her head up as she examines you as well. She bites her lower lip to try and conceal her excitement.

“I missed you,” She confesses. You avert your eyes to the guard and back to her. You feel embarrassed to have someone else hear a criminal flirting with you. She narrows her eyes and shakes her head.

“If you can’t keep your attention on me. I want him out of the room,” She demands. You widen your eyes.

“That is unnecessary,” You explain.

“If you don’t get him out of the room. I refuse to talk,” She says. You furrow your eyebrows at her. She shrugs her shoulders and leans back onto the chair. She playfully looks around the room to keep herself entertained.

“Rio…” You try getting her attention. She ignores you. You let out a sigh. This is no good. You need to get the job done. You look at the guard and gesture at him to leave. He hesitates at first but decides to listen. Rio’s lips curl into a smile when she hears the gate behind her close. She places her hands on the table and leans forward. An attempt to close the distance. You lean back, but the chair limits you.

“Finally. Just you and me,” She grins. You let out a shaky breath. Your eyes flicker down to her lips in a second, but she catches it. Your hand slides to grab a pen. You click it and place it against the notepad.

“I am here to talk to you about the victims you killed-“

“Did you miss me?” She cuts. She smiles innocently. Her eyes are wide like a doe, except you know she is far from innocent. The woman in front of you is sinister and well-calculated.

“Rio, that is inappropriate to ask,” You warn, fidgeting with the pen. She ignores you and continues talking while playfully tapping her fingertips against the table surface.

“You came sooner than I expected. Couldn’t resist seeing me?” She teases. You accidentally grip the pen harder til your knuckles turn white.

“I am here for my job. Not for you,” You snap. She widens her eyes as she smiles, trying to act offended.

“Will you look at that? You seem to have grown into your big boy pants,” She snickers. You were about to snap back til you narrowed your eyes at her. Her lips start to twitch.

You know what she was doing. She was trying to rail you up and observe if she can still control your emotions. You knew she was secretly obsessed with dominance. You’ve seen it sparkle in her eyes when you fall into her schemes. She had made you go against your morals and unknowingly act like a puppet on a string.

“I am not going to play your games this time,” You grumble.

“Oh sweetie… you’ve already stepped into my playground,” She whispers. Chills run down your spine, but you try your best to ignore her. You slide a photo of one of her victims in front of her. You point your finger at it.

“Tell me why you decided to kill this man,” You order. She tilts her chin down to look at the victim. She fakes a yawn and shrugs her shoulders.

“He deserved it,” She sighs in boredom. You slide another photo to be side by side.

“How about him?”

“Same thing,”

“Him?” You add another photo. She gives the photo a quick glance, not even trying to fully look.

“I didn’t kill him,” She addresses. She brings up her short fingernails to inspect. She notices a little dirt and focuses on digging it out. You let out a disbelief sigh, feeling your frustration building.

“Yes, you did,” You remind her slowly. She lifts her head in amused shock. She leans her head to take a good look at the photo. Her eyes scan the face and then light up.

“Oh! Yes, yes I remember him now. I must have forgotten,’ she giggles, ‘Men look and act too alike.’ You quickly jot it down. You already knew this about her, but it is a small start.

“So all these men have the same characteristic,” You repeat. She groans and rests her chin on her hand.

“Yes, isn’t it obvious?” She mumbles.

“I just need a clarification-“ She cuts you off by saying your name. The way your name rolls off her tongue sends a chill down your spine. It’s the dominating tone she loves to use. You immediately stop talking. You peek up at her between your lashes. She licks her bottom lip and dramatically waves her hand.

“I’ve been waiting for so long to see you and all you’re talking about is some foolish men?!” She fake cries. She pauses between her amusement to think. You furrow your eyebrows at her random action. Suddenly she brings her hand out to touch yours. Her rough fingertips rub the softness of your skin. Your mind storms with thoughts. You fight against yourself from enjoying her touch. Your breathing shakes. The corner of her lips curl into a smile when she realizes your inner struggle. Reality kicks in and you jerk your hand away. Your eyes dart to the camera. There are people on the other side watching. You didn't want them to see. She narrows her eyes and smiles daringly. She can tell you’re worried about the camera. You glare at her, ignoring the pounding of your heart. She pouts and returns her hand to her side. Your tense body starts to relax as you see her lean away. You thought it was the end of her playfulness, but it was just the beginning.

“They can’t hear us,” She whispers. Suddenly you feel her foot dragging up your calves slowly. You widen your eyes at her to try and stop her. But that was pointless. You self cautiously nibble your bottom lip to ignore the build-up in your lower stomach. You dry swallow and force yourself to look normal. Her eyes darken when she realizes you’re not pulling away. She figures that underneath the table away from view is where she can mess around.

“I’ve been lonely here,” She sighs, drawing small circles with her fingers on the table. You couldn’t speak as if she cast a spell on you. She drags her foot higher, touching the inner side of your knee. You let out a soft hick in your breath. Your cheeks start to feel warm.

“Rio,” You warn vocally. She points a finger at you in a taunting way.

“Let me ask you questions,” She glares. You couldn’t believe how easy it was for her to switch roles. You feel your jaw clench. Why are you so weak around her? It was as if you were the one in handcuffs.

“Did someone touch you while I’m in here?” She challenges. She asks in a joking tone, but you know better. You keep your face stone cold and refuse to talk. Her smile slowly drops.

She misread you.

She starts laughing like a maniac with her head tilted back which exposes her bare neck. Within a second she slams her fist onto the table. Your heart skips a beat in fear. Her face darkens and she clenches her jaw. The guard pounds onto the gate as a warning.

“Who was it?” She commands. How dare she accuse you of such action. You lean close to her face. Her eyes waver at your presence, secretly enjoying your closeness. She nearly leans in, but she composes herself.

“I am nothing like you,” You grimace. Your expression was laced with disgust.

“Oh, but you are… admit it,” She taunts. You break eye contact to look down. The room is starting to get stuffy. You shift in your seat uncomfortable.

Rio knew this little part of you the moment she laid eyes on you. You were too infatuated with her crimes. You were never scared around her. You wanted to understand, but the lines between investigation and interest started to blur. You enjoy the chaos that Rio brings… and you hate that. You wanted to just be a normal FBI agent, but everyone else around you is too simple-minded. You needed a spark in which Rio satisfies.

A nudge of her foot brings you back. Before you can react, she leans her body across the table to invade your space. She inhales your scent and sighs in pleasure. She misses you so much she couldn’t believe how long she was able to last without you. She tilts her head til her lips reach your ears.

“You feel sick that you love me,” She whispers. Your heart slams against your chest.

She caught you. The real truth.

You shove yourself away from the table. The chair squeaks awfully against the floor. Photos and papers flutter around and drop. Rio lets out a sickening cackle during the chaos. The guards barge through the gate and rush in. She puts her hand up in surrender. They roughly pull her arms back to handcuff her. She grunts in pain as they manhandle her. The warden rushes to your side to check up on you.

“Are you alright?” He worries. You place a hand on your racing heart and dry swallow. You glance over to see Rio being dragged out of the room. She tries to give you one last look, but the guards tug her.

“I am fine,” You reply, brushing your clothes in an attempt to collect yourself. You shakingly grab your bag. You give him a forceful smile before walking out. As you walk down the long hallway you place a hand on your forehead as a headache kicks in.

You slam your hands against the metal table. The tight handcuffs around your wrist are starting to hurt. The detective in front of you rarely budges. Her gray suit hugs her curves well. She points at the bank blueprint.

“Tell me how you planned the heist,” She orders.

“I didn’t do it!” You argue. She narrows her eyes and leans back into the chair. She tries to read you deeper. You didn’t understand how you got into this position. The detectives are accusing you of a bank heist on which you truly had no time to do. You’ve asked for your FBI team, but the police station refuses to allow you to talk to others.

“Then explain to me why the robbers knew your name and address. They told us that you were the one who hired them,” She argues. She slams more photos onto the table. Evidence that shows purchasing receipts under your name and many more. You shake your head in shock and confusion. All of this does not make sense. You look up at her with pleading eyes.

“Please let my FBI team handle this case. It wasn’t me,” You cry. It was a setup, but from who? There are plenty of people who are against you due to your label. The detective shakes her head and starts collecting the papers. She stands up and tugs her suit.

“If you’re not going to cooperate with me. We’ll find another day to discuss. Have fun being locked up for the time being,” She states as she struts away. You tug on the handcuffs and cry out to her. Begging her to let you go and that all of this was a setup. You didn’t care how the metal was digging into your skin. You were innocent. The door shuts, leaving you behind to sob alone in the empty room.

You watch outside the window of the large van carrying other prisoners. Each woman has a different background and crime. You squeeze yourself the furthest away from everyone. You didn’t belong here. The van slows down in front of the prison you were at not long ago. An officer slides the van door open and orders everyone to get out. You helplessly follow along with everyone else. Getting out was a little hard due to the limitations of the handcuffs. The new set of inmates walk in a line to the first room. Everyone is ordered to strip to shower, do a full body search, and then given an orange suit. An officer starts directing everyone to a specific section of the prison when another officer stops you.

“You. Come with me,” He orders. The other inmates look at you curiously but don’t dare to speak. They start taking a step away from you. You shake your head no, anxiety creeping up.

“Why?” You squeak.

He clenches your shoulders and drags you away from the inmates you came in with. You thrash against him til you eventually stop. He tugs you along without saying anything else. You anxiously look around to try and understand where he was bringing you. You notice he was bringing you deeper into the prison. The area begins to be more dark and eerie. You pass by many prison cells. Each is filled with women gawking at you like predators. A few of them whistled and laughed. You’re starting to realize this section of the prison is different from the one you were previously assigned to.

“W-where are you taking me,” You ask. You try to stop walking, but he continues to push you along. After a few more minutes he stops in front of a prison cell.

“This is your cell from now on,” He finally speaks up. He removes his hand from your shoulders. You immediately start rubbing the side of your shoulder to ease the gripping pain. He takes out a chain of keys and starts to unlock the cell. The gate swings open and you notice a woman with her back facing you already in it. Your cell partner. You take a step forward to go in, but then quickly stop. The woman in the cell turns around with a sinister smile.

“Hello, my love,” Rio purrs. Your blood runs cold. You turn and attempt to run, but the officer grabs your body. You fight against him as much as you can. He grunts at the amount of force you're putting out.

“You can’t put me in here!” You cry out. He pushes you into the cell and slams the gate shut before you can escape. You put your hands out to try and grab him. He quickly slips away and walks down the hallway, ignoring your begging. He disappears and your sobbing quiets down. You clench onto the cold metal gate. It was no use. Shaking, you turn around to face her. She stands at a good distance with a calm expression.

“Are you done?” She asks. You glare at her venomously. She chuckles, her eyes twinkling. She brings her fingers up to her lips and rubs her bottom.

“Just you and me again,” She smiles.

“Don’t touch me,” You warn. She looks at you offended and points at herself. She shakes her head no slowly.

“You have no authority to order me around anymore. We are both here wearing orange suits-“

“I don’t belong here. It was a mistake,” You huff. She starts laughing a little hard while holding her stomach. She collects herself by letting out one small chuckle. She immediately stops and playfully narrows her eyes at you. She takes a teasing step towards you. You try taking a step back, but the gate traps you.

“I know it was a mistake,” She starts. Your fearful face starts to drop. Your mind racing with the words she just spoke.

“I mean… look at you. You wouldn’t even hurt a fly,” She whispers. Once she is in front of you she brings her hands up to your chin, slightly gripping it. She looks lovingly into your eyes.

“I did this to you,” She whispers a confession. You try to shove her back, but she resists. You’ve lost all your strength from earlier. She grabs your wrist and pulls you away from the gate. She gently pulls you deeper into the room and wraps your hand around her shoulders. She then places her hands around your waist and pulls you close.

“It was easy really. Planning and planting your name in the heist. It was like playing chess,” She whispers. Her breath tickles your ears. She starts swaying her body, forcing you to follow along. A slow dance as she inhales your hair.

“You manipulating freak,” You choke out. She lets out a soft hum. Her fingers draw slow circles around your hip.

“You caused this,” She claims. You close your eyes and clench your jaw.

“I only have a few more days with you till your silly team takes you away from me,” She sighs, pulling away from the hug. She cups the side of your face with her hands. Her eyes are dilated with need. She leans her face to kiss you, but you turn your head to the side. Your heart has a mind of its own. It is pounding loudly.

“Don’t do that,” She frowns. She takes your hand to place it on her chest. You can feel the fast beats of her heart underneath your fingers. A blush appears on your cheeks. She truly does feel for you.

“I’ve been good. I waited for you,” She begs for approval. You turn your face to glare at her again. You were not willing to let your walls down.

“It was my job to seduce you, what do you not understand?” You snap. She shakes her head in denial. Her pupils are black like the void. You could get lost in them.

“But you fell in love during the act,” She argues. She wants you to admit the truth. She wants you to stop lying to yourself. Your eyes start to water in anger, confusion, and denial.

“That’s… not true,” You try to sound truthful.

“Do you really not feel anything when I do this?” She asks before softly pressing her plump lips against yours. You clench your fist as she barely deepens the kiss. She gently pulls away to examine your reaction. You let out a shaky breath, chest pumping up and down. She’s a genius body reader. You knew you couldn’t lie anymore.

“You’re a criminal… I shouldn’t think this way,” You reject her. You feel your eyes starting to tear up. Your inner struggle is resurfacing. She rubs her thumb against your bottom lip. Her eyes fill with love.

“Don’t think… feel,” She whispers before kissing you again. Your mind threatens to come up with lies until you decide to feel. Just like what she said. She’s a psychopath, her moves are always calculated.. but god you love that so much. Even if this is part of her plan to get you to break, you will give in. You love her sick mind. No one else can think the way she does.

You kiss back with caution. You shamefully believe a small kiss wouldn’t mean anything. She hums between the shared kiss and it stirs something in you. You wanted to hear it again. You press into the kiss with more passion. Your mouth opens to slide your tongue into her mouth. The feeling of need bursts through your body after being kept hidden. Her tongue touches against yours. She smiles between the kisses as she moans again. She knew she successfully broke you again. You were hers and she never felt happier. She never felt this amount of satisfaction when killing men. No, only you were the one to evoke this feeling in her.

“Kneel,” She demands as she pulls away from the kiss. Your lips are wet, red, and slightly swollen. You try to kiss her again, but she places her hand on your head. She chuckles a little as she pats your head to go down. You look at her with worried eyes, but she gently assures you. You eventually obey her and start to kneel on the cement floor. The ground is rough on your knees. You rub your hands on her thighs before looping your fingers at her waistline. You tug and help her get her pants and panties off. You lick your lips as you stare at her core. She spreads her legs and gently tugs your head to come closer. Her scent clouds your thoughts.

“Reward me. I’ve been waiting so long,” She begs. You have never heard her this needy before. You give her inner thighs kisses before you split her folds with your fingers. You stick out your wet tongue and slowly lick her clit. She sighs and rubs her fingers through your hair. Your tongue continues to circle her clit so that you can get her more wet. You give her clit a few sucks which causes her to groan softly. She licks her lips and grips your head harder. Your tongue drags along her slit and back up to her clit. Her juice is starting to leak out more. You hum in satisfaction as your saliva mixes in with her silky juice. Your tongue pushes into her core to collect more. You go back to her clit to lick and suck harder and faster. She rolls her hips into your mouth. You look up to see her cheeks red. Her mouth slightly opens and her lower exposed stomach flexes. You roll your tongue harshly against her clit and she moans.

“Fuck… I miss this,” She breathes. She puts two hands on your head and pushes you into her. She uses your head to please herself at the pace she wants. You close your eyes and stick out your tongue to make yourself a use for her. Her hips thrusting into your mouth becomes more harsh. Her liquid starts to spread all over your lips and chin. She moans a little louder, causing you to tap her thighs to warn her to stay more quiet.

“Your mouth feels too good,” She grunts. You grip her thighs to keep her still as you suck and lick hard. She rolls her head back and moans. Her face expresses ecstasy and pleasure. Her eyebrows are furrowed and her mouth opens to whimper and moan. She looks so good like this. Your cunt clenches painfully at nothing.

“Keep going, I'm close,” She hums. She grabs your hair hard, almost making you cry out. Her juice is rolling down your chin. Her moan starts becoming high-pitched, indicating how much closer she is. You bring your middle and ring finger up. You easily push it into her wet pulsing core. You pull your fingers in and out quickly, before curling and pressing into her walls. You don’t lose focus of your pace. She brings one hand up to cover her mouth from moaning too loud. Her thighs start to shake uncontrollably. She reaches her high and eases herself out by jerking her hips into your mouth. She cusses and moans while gently patting your head. Once she finishes, she tugs your head away from her wet core. Your lower face is covered in her sweet juice. Her chest moves up and down as she catches her breath. She smiles sweetly at you, still kneeling, waiting for her orders.

“Come here,” She says. You stumble a little getting up from the hard ground. You take off the orange suit. The cold prison air prickles your skin. She pulls you into another passionate kiss. Her finger starts playing with your core, causing you to moan into her mouth. Your cunt is already wet from pleasing her. She easily collects your silk with her middle finger to mess with your clit. You were louder than her, causing her to shut you up with kisses. She doesn’t go slow, she rubs quickly and ruthlessly. You gasp and grip onto her shoulders.

“You wanted this,” She chuckles.

“Y-yes,” You pant. She shoves her long middle finger into you. She finds it coming in and out too easily. She decided to add in her ring finger. She wants to feel your walls squeeze around her digits. You feel the air in your lungs getting shut off for a moment. The stretch feels so good. You jerk your hips into her hands.

“Stay still,” She orders, spreading your legs more. She leans her face back to kiss you as she thrusts her hands into you harder causing your legs to shake. You let out a loud moan which makes her stop. She leans back and glares at you. You were too loud. She takes her other hand to grip your face. Her face is stern.

“Keep quiet or else the guards will remove you,” She warns. You quickly nod your head while licking your lips. It might be a hard task, but you’re not willing to risk it.

She releases her grip from your face. She places her hand over your mouth to shut it. She returns to adding a third finger in without warning. You sob into her hands. Your stomach clenches in pain and pleasure. The wet sounds of her fingers thrusting into your core are embarrassingly loud. She loves it so much. If she couldn’t hear your screams at least she can hear this. Your silk is running down her knuckles, making a mess. She leans her lips to your ears and whispers praises.

“You’re such a good dirty girl for me,” She purrs. You clench around her digits and shut your eyes. You cuss into her hands. Your legs start to shake and you feel yourself getting close. She hungrily craves your orgasm. She keeps her fast and harsh pace, causing you to hold onto her or else you will fall. You moan and whimper into her palm. She can feel you getting close. She knows your body too well.

“Come for me baby,” She licks the shell of your ears. With a few more harsh thrusts, your breathing stops as you release yourself to her. She continues fingering you through your orgasm. Your liquid rolls down your thighs. She removes her other hand from your lips and you gasp for air. She gently pulls her three fingers out of you. Your core is still pulsing. She shushes you and kisses your forehead, then your cheeks, then to your lips. You try your best to kiss her back as you still feel lightheaded. You pull away, holding her face close to yours.

“I love you,” You weakly confess. You allow yourself to feel. You didn’t care if everyone was going to judge you. She pauses in awe. She couldn’t believe it at first, but your words finally reached into her heart. She engulfs you in a hug. You can feel the vibration from her laughter. The sound echoes down the hallway. The guards and inmates furrow their eyebrows. The first time they hear the ‘lady of death’ in pure happiness.

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g0dlyunsub · 1 year ago

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don't pretend.

spencer can see through all of your lies, including the bruises you’re hiding behind makeup.

pairing :: spencer x fem bau!reader

warnings :: mentions of prisons, physical violence, bruises, reader gets injured, patching up, fluff

word count :: 1.6k

author’s note :: oh, looks like i’ve spawned another hurt/comfort fic yet again…

accompanying song :: who hurt you by role model

you’re an ambitious profiler.

you’re such an ambitious profiler that you interview offenders with the most extensive list of records whenever you have time. you want to understand more than just the simple question of why they did it. you want to explore the how’s and what if’s.

and you’re soft-hearted, so much so that you jeopardize your own safety.

things should’ve gone smoothly with your fifth and last inmate of the week, had you been a little more aware of your surroundings.

but you placed too much faith on your ability to make peace with the man who unyieldingly worshiped violence.

that was your only mistake, but it was a costly one.

you had kindly asked the guard to release the handcuffs, even though he insisted that they stay on.

it’s alright, you told him with the wave of your hand.

but you should’ve noticed the look of challenge on the inmate’s face. it was like he was taunting you, almost as if to say, do you really feel safe being in the same room as me?

it was your soft-heartedness that almost got you severely injured.

he managed to land punches to your left cheek and scratched his nails into the flesh of your leg as he fell, right as he was tackled to the ground.

he laughed when he saw you holding your hand against your throbbing cheek.

you arrive at the office as early as you can, a layer of makeup thicker than usual coating the bruise swelling your left cheek.

you pretend to bury your head in the case file that you retrieved from your desk when the rest of the team started to flood into the room.

when spencer arrives, he gives you a nod and gleefully chirps good morning as he takes his seat beside you.

spencer knows your routine like the back of his palm – he knows you’re busy with interviews at the federal prison on saturdays and sundays, and he knows you always need a caffeine boost the next morning. you gladly accept the cup of coffee that he sets in front of your hands with a small smile.

as hotch is debriefing the case with garcia, however, you can’t help but feel his eyes drilling into the side of your face, as if he can see through your cover.

your makeup can’t be that obvious, right?

your thoughts are interrupted when hotch closes the cover of his case file, stands, and announces wheels up in 20.

you lift yourself with the support of the table and wait for everyone else to exit before you follow, doing your best to disguise the limp in your walk.

---

“alright. jj and prentiss, go to the morgue. morgan and reid, go to the crime scene. dave, you and l/n can set up with the local p.d. i’ll go talk to the victims’ families.”

as hotch assigns roles to the team, everyone nods when their names are called out. but spencer raises his hand slightly and clears his throat.

“actually, hotch, do you mind if i switch with rossi and set up with l/n and the locals instead?”

hotch hesitates for a second, but nods slowly.

“sure. dave, you okay with that?”

the italian agent cocks up a questioning eyebrow but gives a warm smile. “i don’t see why not.”

you’ve never heard spencer contest hotch’s orders before, so you’re stumped as to why he’s suggesting an alternative role this time. but you soon brush off the thought, and decide to occupy your time re-reading the case files before the jet lands.

you sink into your seat with a heavy sigh, forcing your eyes shut as pain travels down your legs. you’re thankful that hotch assigned you to set up at the local p.d., since it doesn’t require much locomotion and spares you the struggle of getting up constantly. you watch as spencer spreads the corners of the map and sticks push pins into the corkboard.

“how did your interviews go yesterday?” spencer breaks the silence first and moves to grab a red marker. with his practiced hand, he quickly circles the areas of the crime scenes on the map.

you gulp.

“they went pretty well, you know, nothing out of the ordinary.”

spencer caps the tip, and a click sounds as the plastic edges meet. he nods, wets his lips with his tongue, and turns to look at you. you meet his gaze for a brief second before you look away, pretending to busy yourself with the m.e. reports that jj sent over.

“green neutralizes red.”

his sudden remark startles you. you drop the papers in your hands and look up. “i’m sorry?”

“green contains the wavelengths that are missing in red light, so when they mix, the colors neutralize each other. that’s why concealers with a green base are better at covering up more reddish bruising,” spencer elaborates, and starts to match up the photos of the crime scenes to the locations marked on the map.

you blink. oh.

there’s no way he’s talking about you, right?

“um, yeah, green’s a common color corrector,” you mutter as you nervously tap your fingers against the wooden table. “but there weren’t any bruises or marks of assault on the victims.”

spencer scoffs as you finish your sentence.

“it’s not about the victims. you. i’m talking about you.”

you swallow slowly.

“i-i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you try, a fake smile plastered over your face as you shake your head left and right.

spencer studies you with a scrutinizing stare, eyes boring into yours like he’s counting the number of times you blink.

“could you grab that for me?” he asks at last, pointing to the book that’s two tables away, the one titled florida’s topography and bathymetry. without thinking, you nod and stand.

fuck.

what a clever way to set you up. now you have to somehow mask the limp in your steps and pretend like the pain coursing through your legs is nonexistent.

you do your best to walk normally, but it’s hard to tell if you’re doing a good job from his unreadable stare. you hold the book out with a bemused smile, hoping it’s enough to cover your pained expression.

he doesn’t look convinced.

“that,” spencer points to your leg with an accusatory gaze, “why are you walking like that?”

he swiftly takes the book from you, and your hand instinctively grips the side of the table for support.

“like what?”

you’re going to make him pry the confession out of you.

“like you’re hurting,” spencer utters quietly. his last word catches your breath completely.

“is that why you asked rossi to switch with you? so you could interrogate me?”

“who hurt you?” spencer ignores your question, setting the book aside and leaning over the table to get a closer look at your face.

instinctively, you retreat and look down, but he walks around the table and kneels in front of you. your brain buzzes with the words he’s just declared. it’s not what did you do, or what happened to you. instead, it’s who hurt you.

“i… it’s nothing.” you shift in your chair, but he stops the seat from turning completely by laying a hand on the headrest.

“tell me. please.”

you can’t fake it anymore, especially when he’s already hammered the nail into the hole perfectly.

you rub your sweaty palms on your lap. “one of them tried to hurt me during the interview. i-it was my fault, i asked the guards to take off the cuffs. i thought they’d be more willing to cooperate that way.”

spencer’s expression mellows as you speak, but he doesn’t return a comment. somehow, this makes you even more nervous.

a second after, he lifts his hand and slides a finger along the slightly swollen area of your cheek. he hesitates when you start to wince in pain.

tapping his knee with his index finger, he instructs, “let me take a look at your leg.”

you comply.

when you lift your leg, spencer’s hand slips between the wedge of your platform's heel, and gracefully sets your foot on his knee.

you observe him gently push the thin fabric of your trousers upwards. you hold your breath when he leans in to inspect closely, and you almost shudder when the vapor of his warm breath tickles the gash on your flared shin.

spencer steps back to retrieve a first-aid kit lying nearby and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. without saying a single word, he pulls a cotton pad and a gauze roll from the bag.

as he wraps your leg with the gauze, he looks up to meet your lowered gaze.

“tell me his name.”

you bite your lip.

“it’s fine. you should focus on the geo-profile instead.” you exhale as spencer unfolds the rolls on the hem of your trousers to cover your leg again.

“you do know that it won’t take me long to go through every incident report,” he retorts back with a challenging glint in his eye. your cheeks heat up with a hot flush of red.

goddamnit, spencer reid.

you hastily brush yourself away from him.

“what are you going to do?”

he pauses, every second of silence only feeding your suspicions. you watch the corner of his lips tug into a smirk.

“you know, nothing out of the ordinary.”

you huff.

“don’t use my words against me.”

he shrugs with an indifferent expression, but chuckles before standing back up.

“his name. or do we want to do this the hard way?”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #dr spencer reid

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katsukistofu · 1 year ago

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it took me by soap-rise

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ k. bakugo x fem reader. 4k words — fluff. cursing. slightly suggestive. ⭑ of course your public nuisance no. 1 has to hog your favorite shower stall the day you forget your body wash in it.

Katsuki was honestly starting to suspect he wasn’t your type.

Which one, was something he’d never even bother to consider. He’s ripped up more confession letters than he can count after three years. Graduation was just around the corner and he still hates social media, but even he knows how popular he is on it because of his classmates whining about it all the damn time. He knows he’s well-liked, and it’s not just his ego talking.

Genuinely it's a thought that would never occur to him, if only Eyebags wasn’t lounging around you all the time, casting annoyingly cocky glances at him as he taps your shoulder and leans in to whisper whatever the fuck it is in your ear whenever he passes by the two of you.

Not that he cared.

Two, when Dunce Face dared you to say who you thought was the most attractive guy during a game of truth or dare in the common room last year, while he pretended to be disinterested when he very much in fact was not, you had offhandedly answered with that half-n’-half bastard’s name, who could not be more polar opposite to him.

Again, he really couldn’t give less of a fuck.

Not like he’s been thinking about it since then. Totally. Not.

Katsuki also hasn’t been thinking about how it should be him whispering in your ear instead of that purple haired extra, the endless list of things he could say to make you squirm and blush in your seat.

Of course, that doesn’t happen because you’re too busy arguing with him, like usual, about the new group project Aizawa just assigned. Something about reconnecting with their roots before graduating. With you two as partners, much to the amusement of your classmates.

“We should work on the script first!” You insist while he leans back in his chair, observing you get more and more worked up.

It should be irritating as hell, your hand gestures, your matter of fact tone, but what’s really bothering him is that it’s not. He’s not sure when that started happening.

“It’s better to prepare the interview questions we’re going to ask our parents when we visit each other's homes.”

He snorts. “What are we, some ditzy news report crew? We’re not gonna waste time doing that, we should just visit your place first, then mine and get it over with.”

You spin away from him before he can open his mouth again, and raise your hand.

Aizawa slowly turns to you with a sigh, already knowing what you’re about to ask.

“No.”

“But Mr. Aizawa!”

Eyebags casts an amused glance in both of your directions, and Katsuki scoffs.

No way in hell was he letting you switch and downgrade to an extra like him.

“What, you’re chickening out?”

You ignore him. “Can I please switch partners?”

“No,” Aizawa deadpans.

“But—“

“No. One more word from either of you and you’re getting zeroes.”

The both of your mouths snap shut, and you glare at each other.

“When you’re a pro, you don’t always get to choose who you team up with.”

Aizawa rubs his temples.

“And you’re supposed to be my top ranking students. You’re not first years anymore, so act like it.”

You hang your head. Like a scolded puppy, Katsuki notes.

“Yes Mr. Aizawa.”

From the corner of his eye, you flip him off under your desk and his lips can’t help but twitch. Does he really still piss you off that much after all this time?

Without hesitation, Katsuki flips you off back.

‘Fucking teacher’s pet.’ He mouths with a smirk.

‘Asshole.’ You mouth back.

Aizawa sighs again, throwing a pointed look at Sero and Denki who are struggling, and failing, to hold back their giggles behind you.

This was going to be a long week.

It’s the day after the group project was assigned, and you’re still reeling from the fact that out of everybody you had to get paired up with, of course it had to be your crush.

Hey Siri, does it make you a masochist if for the past three years you've been in love with a guy that’s laser-focused on his personal development and has zero interest in dating anyone other than his career, ever?

Are you a masochist if you kind of find that kind of hot?

Just when you were starting to make a pros and cons list with Mina the night before to try and ick yourself out, too. But even that was getting increasingly hard to do.

His growth was undeniable, and you curse at him for being almost as mature as he was attractive now.

Well, towards everybody except you.

Three steps away from the door to your room, you freeze in place as your brain stops your usual ramblings of the blond boy to register two alarming facts.

One, the bottle of body wash you usually use was not in your hand like you thought it was.

Two, it was in fact, still in the shower stall you left it in.

Pink house slippers slap against the floor’s carpeting as you race back to the showers with a death-like grip on your towel.

You’re slightly out of breath as you clutch the doorway of the showers, and just as quickly as you enter you find yourself exiting lightning fast at double the speed, nearly launching yourself against the wall of the hall outside.

With your heart racing uncontrollably, tips of too familiar blond hair disappear into the stall you were in moments ago.

Too familiar, for your liking.

But that strong jawline you caught a glimpse of was unmistakable.

Your irritating classmate slash crush you were trying to get rid of was taking up your shower stall.

Okay technically it wasn’t yours but it was the one you used everyday, each morning and night. You’d claimed it when you first stepped foot in it at the beginning of your first year.

So basically, it was yours.

And you definitely don’t remember that bastard ever using it until today.

A screech jolts you from your thoughts. He must have turned the water on, which you can hear, but strangely there was no steam wafting out at all.

The realization creeps up on you like the sound of running water that trickles down and echoes throughout the room.

Hold on.

What was this idiot doing taking a cold shower at four in the morning?

The all too familiar soothing scent of cherry blossom fills the chilly air, and your eyebrows furrow even more in confusion.

And was that your fucking body wash he’s using?

You take a deep breath. Okay, calm down. He’s bigger than you, probably stronger too, that stupid gym freak, not to mention taller than you.

But your fingers were still itching to whip out your quirk and shoot a moonbeam at his crotch.

Because why the fuck was he using your L’Occitane Cherry Blossom Bath and Shower Gel?

Trying to sneak a glance to confirm your suspicions, the obvious shadow of Bakugo is visible through the glass, and you duck back into the hallway.

Oh my god, it is him.

Taking a cold shower in the morning like a crazy person. Although you hate to admit it, that would explain his perfect skin. Everyday you wake up and see his flawless face, you go to bed praying that he gets a blemish.

The shower turns off, and you let out the breath you were holding. Confrontation wasn’t your strong suit, but when it came to your possessions, you weren’t about to be a doormat.

You cross your fingers and pray that he’s wearing clothes.

“Bakugo! Come out here, we need to talk.”

He snorts, already recognizing the chiding voice about to round the corner, and turns. “Picking a fight with me outside of class? Thought you had more self-respect than tha–”

Bakugo is then sharply cut off.

By you hurling into his very naked, very bare chest.

He forces his eyes to not linger on the dip of your collarbone, and as he looks down on you he sees you struggling to do the same in his direction.

You accidentally make contact with his eyes.

The rare, amused look on his face sends something strange and hot down your spine, and you force yourself to turn away so sharply you think you dislocated your neck.

Bakugo smirks. “Wasn’t nearly this focused when we were working on our project.”

An embarrassing noise escapes from your mouth, and his lips curve ever so slightly on his handsome face at the sound.

He’s never seen you this flustered before.

It’s kind of cute, he admits this time.

Despite your clearly humiliated state, you point an impressively steady finger at the object in his hands.

“That’s um, that’s mine.” You awkwardly clutch your towel tighter, suddenly feeling very naked in his presence. Seriously, why didn’t you put a shirt on before coming back?

His eyebrow raises and he lifts the bottle slightly. “This?”

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh,” he says disbelievingly. “Don’t see your name on it.”

You sigh in exasperation, did he always have to be so uncooperative with you? “It’s mine, okay? Just give it back.”

Bakugo's eyes narrow as he studies you. Like you’re a puzzle piece he’s trying to make sense of.

And as much as you hate to admit it, the focused look on his face was annoyingly attractive.

“That’s funny.”

You open your mouth, your patience is on the last straw and you’re about to yell back ‘what is?’ and snatch the bottle out of his hands when he smirks, holding it high out of your reach above his head with his bicep, still gleaming with water from his shower.

“Because this is mine.”

You blink at the water falls from his raised arm onto your nose, not registering what you’re hearing. Looking away from the pink translucent bottle above your head, your eyes meet his again.

“What?”

“You heard me the first time.”

You can’t help but stare at him incredulously.

“I don’t think I did.” Confusion could not be clearer than glass in your voice.

“You—You use L’Occitane?”

He averts his eyes from the droplet that falls from your still wet hair and rolls down what skin you have exposed, disappearing into your thankfully tightly wrapped towel.

“Dude. You are so not cherry blossom bath and shower gel material.”

He snorts. “Fuck is that supposed to mean.”

“I don’t know! I thought you’d use like, Dove MenCare or five in one.”

“Five in one? Are you stupid?”

“Apparently! But—Oh my god can you stop flexing your biceps for one fucking second.” You groan. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you.”

“Why were you looking?”

“I can’t help it! They’re distracting me and—“ You clap your hands over your mouth, glancing at his slightly amused expression with horrified eyes.

“Distracting you?” His voice is low, and you curse at the way your stomach flip-flops.

“Um.” Fuck. Where did that even come from? “I meant, uh.”

“Trying to take it back now?” He smirks. “Coward.”

“I am not a coward!” You glare at him. “And I’m not feeding into your ego.”

“You just admitted you were staring at my biceps and thinking about what body wash I would use.”

Okay, so you’re just digging yourself a deeper grave. Your cheeks are warmer than the shower you took earlier, and you can’t even deny it.

“Creep.”

You huff. “Okay fine, I’m a creep. Just give me my body wash back.”

“Told you,” he starts walking away, towel still wrapped around his waist. You pointedly look away towards the wall. “It’s mine, dipshit.”

“Wha–” You whip your head around just as he disappears behind the corner, too tired and irritated to even chase after him, and with a sigh you walk into the shower room, heading for the stall you used earlier.

Your eyes widen as you stare at it in embarrassment.

There your bottle of cherry blossom body wash sits, untouched in the shower caddy.

As you head back to your dorm room, the body wash safely clutched in your hand, you wonder.

Was it too late to call in sick for today?

Aizawa did not in fact let you call in sick, and you're painfully reminded of everything that happened in the morning as you complain to Hitoshi about it. Your best friend snickers as students file into the cafeteria behind his seat.

“You’re so stupid.”

You take the opportunity to shove a sweet roll into his open mouth. “Shut up! I’m going to pretend like it never happened.”

Hitoshi snorts, taking the bread out of his mouth. “Good luck with that. But hey,” He leans in with a mischievous grin, and you glare daggers at him. “Isn’t this the most progress you’ve made since you started liking him since, what, first year entrance exams?”

Your jaw drops. “Excuse me?”

He takes his sweet time eating the roll in his hand instead of elaborating, like the petty asshole he's always been. Your fingers tap impatiently on the table of the cafeteria as you wait while he chews.

After what seems like an eternity, Hitoshi finally swallows.

“I mean, you’ve never really made a move on him this whole time. Kind of just been a spectator, like a creep.”

Warmth rushes up your neck as you’re reminded of what Bakugo called you yesterday. Creep.

“I can’t help it! The only time we ever speak is during class projects, and even then we’re always arguing. I just don’t know what to say to him.”

“I know.” Hitoshi raises an eyebrow. “Woop woop. 3A’s own live little romcom.”

“I’m gonna kill you.”

“Okay, but after I finish this soup.” He blows on his steaming spoon, and pauses as a thought occurs to him.

”If he didn’t like it though, he would’ve told you by now.”

You can’t help but perk up at that. “You really think so?”

“Yeah.” He spoons the soup into his mouth. “Oh. This is good, why didn’t you get any when we were in line?”

“...The red color reminded me of his eyes too much.”

Hitoshi sighs.

“For your birthday, I’m going to admit you to a mental hospital.”

“It’s not that bad!” You insist and he snorts derisively.

The both of you know you’re lying.

The ride to Katsuki’s house after class is awkwardly silent.

Your folks conveniently went out of town to visit some relatives you’ve never even heard of yesterday, so the both of you were left with no choice but to interview his parents only.

The train is almost full, and every seat in the car is taken except one.

“I’m standing.”

Katsuki grabs onto the handle above his head, a silent signal for you to take the only seat left and watches with barely concealed amusement in his eyes as you hurry to sit in front of him without a word other than a small ‘thanks.’ So skittish today.

He’s not sure if he likes it though. You being quiet around him.

You’ve said less than two sentences to him since this morning, and he almost misses your snappy quips.

Almost.

He hides a sly grin. It’s all his fault you’re acting like this, and he's going to enjoy it while it lasts.

You’re putting your earbuds on, and just before you put the left one in, he snatches it out of your hands and puts it in his ear.

Your eyes widen cutely, too stunned to speak.

"Just don't play anything shitty." He turns his attention back to his phone, ignoring all the smoochy faces the group chat's sent him about you as he sends his mom a quick text to tell her you two are on the way.

With a shy nod, which he can't help but note is so unlike you, you scroll down on your own phone and click on a playlist.

Katsuki's eyes widen in surprise not even five seconds in.

The instrumentals, those vocals. He knows this song.

He loves this song.

"You listen to Pierce the Veil?"

You blink up at him. "Yeah. I do."

He can't help it. The edge of his lips twitch as he recalls what you said to him yesterday, and he mimics your exact tone.

"Dude. You are so not post-hardcore alt rock material."

The expression on your face is priceless.

Katsuki never uses his damn phone camera but he almost wants to snap a picture right there and then.

Except of course, you do the unexpected.

You giggle at him.

He can't help but feel a little proud. Take that, stupid fucking Eyebags.

"I guess you're right," you laugh behind your hand. "Jirou recommended me some songs last year and I've been a fan ever since."

"Then what's your favorite lyric by them?"

"Oh my god." The grin on your lips spreads a warm, sweet feeling across his chest, like strawberry jam on hot toast. "You're one of those people that see someone wearing a band shirt and go 'Oh you like them? Name five of their songs.'"

He scoffs. "I do not."

"You totally do."

Katsuki rolls his eyes. "You trying to distract me from the fact you're a fake fan?"

You fake a little gasp. "Me? Never." There's a thoughtful hum that comes from your lips, and he observes you as you take a moment to think.

"My favorite lyric has to be 'been counting the stars and scars, how I’m becoming a work of art.'"

The Divine Zero. Fuck, he loved that song too.

"Huh. Guess you know your shit."

You huff proudly, so similar to a dog happily wagging its tail that he resists the urge to pat your head. "Of course! What's your favorite lyric?"

He smirks, staring directly into your eyes.

"I’m gonna tear out the thread one by one from your skin till your bones feel embarrassed by all the attention."

Your lips fall into a flustered 'o' shape and you turn away when he finishes, nodding. "That's, uh, that's a good one too."

He bites back a laugh as you hurriedly switch playlists, and a familiar R&B tune starts singing in his ear instead.

Mitsuki’s face greets the two of you as she opens the door.

“Katsuki! You're here early—oh!"

She spots you.

“You’re one of those cute maid girls from last year’s cultural festival!"

Your cheeks flush as you remember. That stupid day when Denki’s suggestion finally won the class vote. She was visiting for Bakugo’s role as an oni in the haunted house, and happened to stop by the maid cafe in the class where you and the rest of the girls were working. “Yes ma’am.”

“I didn’t know you were Katsuki’s girlfriend.”

“What?” Your mouth drops. “Oh, I’m not—“

“You brat! You never told me you were going out with a sweet, pretty girl like this.” Mitsuki scolds in her son’s direction. Your cheeks grow warm as your curious eyes can’t resist trailing over to see his reaction.

"She's not my girlfriend, Ma."

Oh my god, was he blushing?

Mitsuki sighs in disappointment. His crimson eyes meet your widened ones for a split second, then he's brushing past the both of you and heading inside the house.

His mother smiles at you apologetically. "Sorry about him, his puberty came late."

You can't help but snort. "It's okay Mrs. Bakugo, I'm used to it."

"I heard that!" A yell comes from down the stairs.

Mitsuki and you share a mischievous glance, and she ushers you inside. You take off your shoes and look around.

So this is where Bakugo grew up.

There's the smell of green tea in the air, and was that a vanilla candle burning somewhere? Framed photos of Bakugo with his parents are on the wall as you walk into the living room, and you can't help but coo at the one where his chubby baby cheeks are smeared in frosting while he blows out a candle shaped like the number three.

The interview flies by in a breeze. You do most of the asking.

Okay, you’re the one asking all of the interview questions. A warm mug of steaming green tea is placed next to you on the coffee table from your cross-legged position on a cushion.

Bakugo sits next to you, unnervingly silent ever since his mom's outburst from before, as he types up his mother’s and occasionally his father’s responses on his laptop.

It’s funny, the way you think he doesn’t notice your shivers.

"Ma." He glances up from the keyboard. "Do you need to turn the AC up so damn high all the time?"

Mitsuki rolls her eyes, taking a sip of her tea. "It's warm in here!"

He sighs, eyes flicking over to you, and starts getting up from his spot on the floor.

You stare at the hand he holds out to you. And with great interest, so do Masaru and Mitsuki, who mutters something to him that you better be her daughter-in-law within the next three years.

"Come on," Bakugo says gruffly, tugging you to stand.

You stumble a bit as you walk through the hallway with him and up the first few stairs. "Where are we going...?"

"My room. To get you a fucking jacket."

“No, I don’t need it—!” You're cut off with a sneeze.

He groans, and shrugs off the black fleece-lined one he's wearing and bringing you into him by tightly wrapping it around your shoulders.

“Why don’t you ever listen to me?” He grumbles. He's so close you can see how unfairly long his lashes are, and you're not sure if it's the sheer nervous adrenaline from him being so near or the scowl in his voice but you giggle, feeling bold.

“It’s sexy to see you prove me wrong.”

His eyes widen, and he quickly recovers.

“You’re so fucking weird.” There’s an unmistakable fondness you catch in his voice as he says that, and you shiver this time for a different reason.

"Your jacket's too big on me." You flop your newly acquired sweater paws in his face.

“Shut up.” Bakugo snorts as he zips it up for you in one smooth motion. “Fucking baby.”

“You're the baby!" You retort. "I saw your pictures on the wall."

There's a groan from him. "No you didn’t.”

"What, they're cute! I'm gonna send one to the class group chat."

Bakugo shoots a glare at you, and you teasingly wiggle your phone screen in his face. "Don't you dare."

"Hmm, okay I won't. Only if you do something for me first."

He smirks. "Fine, what do you want?" Bakugo leans closer to you, and your cheeks burn hot. "A kiss?"

You were not expecting that.

The way your eyes linger hopefully on his mouth looks like he's right. "Um."

"Um?" He huffs a laugh with his face hovering in front of yours. Bakugo's hot breath teases your lips, and you can't think.

Fuck it, you don't even care if he's just joking anymore. If this is your only chance, you're going to take it.

"Yes."

Bakugo cocks his head to the side, irritating to the very end even when you're on the brink of giving in. "Yes what?"

Your eyes squeeze shut as you blurt out, and you can almost hear Hitoshi cheering in the distance.

"YesIwantyoutokissme!"

"Fucking finally." Your eyes flutter open at his murmur, what did he mean by that? But you don't get to spend another second thinking about it because suddenly his soft lips are on yours and your heart skips a beat as you realize Bakugo is kissing you.

It's feels almost scarily natural to lean into his touch, like a gravitational pull getting stronger and stronger the longer you're near him, and you wonder why you didn't sooner. You numbly acknowledge the growing sweatiness of your palms as your nose bumps against his gently.

His comforting hands cup the back of your head, tangling his calloused fingers in your hair as he guides your mouth against his. A delicious little sound escapes from you the moment you break away from him and it only makes him want to close the gap between you again with more hunger, and he nips at your bottom lip like a starved man.

"Knew you always liked me, by the way." Bakugo gives you a wolfish grin, as the both of you pull back for air, leaving a trail of saliva still connected to your lips in your wake. He slyly glances at your dazed self sideways, flashing you a rare sight of his canines.

"Was just waiting for you to stop being such a damn pussy about it."

#it took me by surpriseee the hatred in his eyess #y’all fw l’occitane cherry blossom bath and shower gel #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #mha x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugo oneshot #bnha x reader #mha oneshot #not this being the first mouth to mouth kiss i’ve ever written here lmfaoooo #idk ig physical intimacy means sm more to me than just kissing #but it seems fitting here so #enjoy <3 #it might be bc i’m asian and pda seems weird to me LMFAO

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