#smutrequests

[ceoofsammonroe]

Constellations - Sam Monroe

Summary: You move in next door to Sam and the two of you quickly become friends. It doesn’t take Sam long to realize that he’s falling love with you, but he would never risk losing the only friend he has by telling you.

Warnings: unprotected sex, penetrative sex, angst, public humiliation, oral sex (Sam receiving), handjob (Sam receiving), nipple play, soft sex, mention of past drug addiction, George lived, mention of cancer, reader lives with her brother, use of cringe nicknames (sorry i’m a sucker for a cheesy nickname), inexperienced!Sam, bullying, praise, crying, Sam is insecure.

A/N: this one is more of a short story than a one shot, so be warned it is veeeeery lengthy.

Masterlist

Sam felt like a fucking stalker.

He wasn’t, really. He swore. He was just…curious.

He’d been staring at the big moving truck parked next door for the past hour, trying to work up the courage to talk to the girl moving boxes in and out of the house that had recently gone off the market.

It was rare for Sam to see a new person that was around his age — one that didn’t know about his less than stellar past. He’d given up a long time ago on trying to change the people he went to high school with’s minds about him, but someone new…that could be exactly what he needed.

If he could work up the fucking courage to actually make a move instead of creepily watching from his bedroom window.

It would be fine. He’d just go downstairs, walk outside, introduce himself, and ask if he could do anything to help. He could be totally normal and definitely knew how to talk to pretty girls…right?

In reality, what did he truly have to lose? It wasn’t like he currently had any friends. If he got rejected, he’d just be right back to where he was now — hiding out in his room that, in retrospect, he maybe should’ve made a little bigger when helping build the damn house.

No, this would be good. He needed it to be good.

You wiped the sweat from your forehead, feeling your shirt sticking to your skin as you grabbed another ridiculously heavy box out of the moving truck.

You’d spent the last hour distracting yourself by fantasizing about all of the different ways you could kill your brother when he got back for leaving you to do all of the, literal, heavy lifting by yourself. It felt like the boxes were never ending and you couldn’t fathom how you’d had this much stuff at your old apartment.

Your body groaned in protest as you set the box down inside before, begrudgingly, going back out to retrieve another. You glared at the traitorous truck — that was starting to feel more like an endless Mary Poppins bag than a moving van — and reached for the next box. As you pulled it loose, it caught on another box and sent it tumbling to the ground — scattering clothes all across the pavement.

“Shit,” you cursed, setting the other box down with a frustrated sigh.

You bent down, fighting against your burning muscles and grumbling under your breath as you began to gather the items that had fallen out.

“You need a hand?”

Startled by the sudden voice behind you, you quickly whirred around. You huffed out a breath, laughing sheepishly as you took in the sight of the stranger who’d offered his help.

He looked young, probably about your age, and he was cute. Really cute. His shy smile held a boyish charm and he had the prettiest blue eyes you’d ever seen, matching the tuft of vibrant blue hair on the top of his head. His labret piercing glinted in the sunlight as he seemed to nervously chew on his lip.

“That would be nice, thank you,” you said, a grateful smile pulling at your lips.

Sam felt his face warm at the sight of your smile, his stomach erupting with��whatever was manlier than butterflies.

“Don’t mention it,” he shrugged, extending his hand toward you. “Name’s Sam, by the way. Like ‘Sam I am’. The whole, ‘I am Sam, I am Sam, Sam I am.’ You know…Dr. Seuss…or whatever.”

Sam closed his eyes, silently cursing himself for whatever idiotic blabber had just fell from his mouth. He had one simple task. He just needed to introduce himself and he managed to bring up Dr. Seuss for fuck’s sake? It wasn’t even like Sam was a complicated name that needed explaining. He was pretty sure the name had been around for forever, like, even in the Bible.

He was about to turn around and retreat back to his room and pretend he’d never made this pathetically embarrassing attempt in the first place, but then he heard the soft sound of your laughter.

You took the hand of the awkwardly charming boy, shaking it as you said, “Nice to meet you, Sam I Am.”

You told him your name as well, save for the in depth explanation. He smiled and softly repeated it, blushing even deeper when he realized he’d been shaking your hand for far longer than socially acceptable. He pulled his hand away, brushing it on his cargo shorts as he looked at the mess of clothes scattered about.

He wordlessly started helping you pick everything up, stealing a few obvious glances at you as he did. You couldn’t help but watch him, feeling a warm endearment blooming in your chest. He was clumsy and awkward, but in a cute way.

“So, uh, did you just move here or something?” Sam asked, breaking the silence. “I mean, I know you just moved to this house because of the moving truck and all, but…”

You giggled and nodded, cutting him off and saving him from another embarrassing ramble as you said, “Yeah, my brother and I just moved here from a few states away.” You glanced over at the house he’d walked over from, admiring it for a moment. “That one yours?”

Sam looked back at the house, as if having to doublecheck that it was indeed his house before nodding.

“Yeah, it’s mine,” he said, picking up the box after setting the last piece of clothing inside of it and handing it to you. “Well, it’s my family’s. I actually helped build it. My dad and I built it together. I guess my mom technically helped, but it was mostly me and my dad.”

Your eyes widened in surprise as you whistled, lowly.

“Wow, that’s impressive,” you told him, grinning as he blushed and shrugged it off. “Really, I can’t even make a decent sandcastle. You built a whole house. So, are you going into architecture or something?”

Sam nodded, a small smile pulling at his lips as he said, “Yeah, it’s what I’m going for. I’m a student at the local community college. It’s lame, but I like building things.”

“It’s not lame,” you said, shaking your head. “I mean, how many of the other architecture students can say they’ve already built a house?”

Sam rubbed the back of his neck, looking at the ground as he laughed. “Yeah, I guess,” he muttered, his sheepish smile growing. “Are you gonna be taking any classes?”

You nodded, hoisting the box you were holding onto your hip as you said, “I’ll be starting out there next week for Summer B.”

Sam’s face seemed to light up at the confirmation that you’d be going to school with him. He cleared his throat, trying to mask his excitement as he nodded.

“Well, if you need anyone to show you around or anything, just let me know,” he shrugged, trying his best to play it cool. “I know starting in a new place can be scary.”

You smirked at him, taking the box toward your front door as you said, “Don’t worry, Sam I Am. I don’t scare easy. Thanks for the help, by the way.”

Sam felt his heart race at the stupid nickname, enjoying it way more than he probably should.

“No problem, anytime,” he waved, watching you retreat into the house. He felt a tug in his chest at the idea of your interaction being over and couldn’t stop himself from calling out after you. “If you need any help with the other boxes, I’ve got nothing better to do!”

You stopped, biting your lip to suppress a grin as you turned back around to face him. He stood there, looking ridiculously eager and hopeful. You glanced toward the other boxes still piled high in the moving truck before looking back at him.

“Yeah, alright,” you nodded. “Make yourself useful.”

Sam’s face broke out in a beaming smile as he practically ran to the moving truck to grab a box. You giggled as he hurried to join you, looking far too happy about the prospect of carrying heavy loads back and forth.

As you worked, you both chatted and got to know each other. You told Sam about where you and your brother were moving from and how you’d ended up there. Sam told you about how his parents had gotten back together and how his dad was in remission for cancer.

Talking with Sam made the grueling task of unpacking seem easy and fun. Time was flying by without you even realizing it. You were naturally drawn to him, fitting into motion like you’d known him your whole life.

Sam was over the moon. He felt like he’d finally found a friend that he could be himself around. There was an unexpected sense of hope creeping into his chest and, for the first time, he didn’t feel repulsed by it.

“Well, I think that’s officially the last box,” you sighed, placing your hands on your hips. “I’ll save all of the hard shit for my brother to do when he gets home, since he left me to do all of the moving.”

Sam brushed his hands off on his shorts, glancing around at all of the boxes now piled high in the living room.

“Well, if you need any more help or just want to get out of the house, I’m right next door,” he offered, wanting to make himself available for you.

“I know where to find you,” you said, grinning at him. “Thanks for the help, again, really. I’ll see you around, Sam I Am.”

Sam bit back the giddy laugh that threatened to escape his throat and gave you a small wave as he all but skipped back to his house. He hadn’t felt this good in years — like something was finally going in his favor.

Your brother returned a bit after Sam left and, after an annoying amount of begging and pleading from him, you spent the rest of the evening unpacking together.

“I met one of our neighbors today,” you told him, brushing some dust off of a picture frame and setting it up on a table. “He was nice.”

“He?” your brother asked, giving you a pointed look.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, “Not like that. He just helped me with the boxes. I think he could be a friend.”

You smiled at the thought of Sam as you went up to your freshly unpacked bedroom. You walked over to the window, looking at the house next door. Your smile grew as you saw Sam’s window directly across from yours. You made eye contact and gave him a small wave before shutting your blinds and getting ready for bed.

As you laid there, staring at the ceiling, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

At the start of the next week, you were getting ready to begin your first day of classes at the local community college. As you made your way outside, you noticed Sam leaving his house at the same time.

You skipped over toward him, leaning against his car with a cheeky grin.

"Howdy, neighbor," you chirped. "Think I could catch a ride to school?"

Sam's face broke out into a wide, beaming smile as he spotted you, wasting no time in opening the passenger door of his car for you.

"Hop on in," he told you, gesturing his head toward the car.

You happily climbed into the passenger seat as Sam walked around the car and got in from the driver's side. You bit back a giggle as he rushed to try and tidy up some of the trash strewn about, a light blush warming his cheeks. His car smelled faintly of smoke, but you didn't mind. As he turned the key and the car roared to life, the sound of a grungy rock song started blaring through the speakers. He sheepishly turned it down, muttering a soft apology.

As he started driving, he stole secret glances over at you. You were watching the scenery rolling by, still trying to familiarize yourself with the new area.

"So, first day, huh?" Sam said, breaking the comfortable silence. "Nervous or excited?"

You thought for a moment before you shrugged and answered, "Both? I like new beginnings. It's a fresh start."

Sam nodded, his voice sounding a bit distant as he said, "Yeah, I get that."

He seemed to disappear inside his head for a moment, but you didn’t feel like it was your place to pry. At least, not yet. Instead, you glanced toward his bag and asked, “Is that a sketchbook? Are you an artist?”

Sam blinked a few times, as if shaking himself out of it, before looking back at the black leather book sticking out from his backpack.

“Oh, uh…I wouldn’t really call myself an artist,” he shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just like to draw sometimes.”

You looked over at him with a playful grin. “Can I see some?”

When Sam saw your hand reaching for the sketchbook, he blurted out a panicked, “No!” You retracted your hand and he paused, a light blush coloring his cheeks. “Sorry…I just, um…they aren’t any good.”

Settling back in your seat, you playfully shrugged and said, “Keep your secrets, Sam I Am.”

You navigated the first half of your day at the new school with relative ease. People had been eager to help you, fascinated by the rarity of a new person in the small area. You shared one class with Sam and got to grab lunch together, with him insisting on getting pizza down the street instead of eating whatever the campus cafe was offering.

When the day ended, you walked toward the parking lot with a group of students that had been talking your ear off. You laughed along with them as your eyes scanned the area, finally landing on Sam. He was leaning against his car, trying to act like he hadn’t been watching you.

You bid your goodbyes to the others and jogged over to Sam, smiling as you said, “Thanks for waiting on me.”

“No problem,” he shrugged, trying to play it cool despite the way his heart was racing. “So, uh…any plans for tonight?”

He didn’t want you to feel obligated to hang out with him, but he also secretly hoped you would. He felt a sense of happiness around you that he hadn’t experienced in a long time. He didn’t want that to end.

“I’ll probably just stay in for the night,” you sighed, feeling the effects of the day wearing on you. “I need the night to process all of the new. I could use the company, though, if you aren’t doing anything.”

Sam’s face broke out into a dazzling grin, relief and a thrill of excitement running through him. He tried to reel it back in, to lessen the visible excitement, but it was no use.

“I’d be down for that,” he nodded, trying his best to sound nonchalant. “If that’s what you want.”

Sam parked his car in his driveway and the two of you walked over to your house. When you opened the front door, the smell of freshly baked cookies wafted beneath your noses.

Your brother, Andrew, was in the kitchen, pulling a tray out of the oven. You grinned, tossing your bag over your shoulder as you ran over and stole one off of the tray.

“Hey!” Andrew whined, reaching out to try and snatch the cookie back. His eyes locked over onto Sam, narrowing slightly. “Who’s this?”

“Andrew, this is my friend, Sam,” you said, gesturing between the two. “Sam, this is my brother, Andrew.”

Sam swallowed thickly and reached out his hand, a little unsure of himself. He didn’t often extend pleasantries with anyone, but he felt the need to in this case.

“Nice to meet you,” he said, forcing a nervous smile onto his face. “Thanks for having me over.”

Sam held his breath as Andrew stared him down for a long, tension-filled moment before shaking his hand with a grin.

“Nice to meet you, too, kid,” he nodded, stepping back to the tray of cookies. “Don’t let my sister give you a hard time.”

You batted your lashes innocently and said, “Me? Never.”

With a cheeky grin, you snatched as many cookies off of the tray as you could manage and bolted up the stairs. You heard Sam mumble an apology to your brother before following after you.

Up in your room, you shut the door behind you and handed Sam a cookie. He took a bite as he walked further in, glancing around at all of the decor.

Sam felt like he needed to drink up every little detail, knowing each small thing was giving him more information about your personality. He walked over to your bookshelf as you flopped onto your bed, taking a bite of your own cookie.

His fingers trailed over the spines of one of your collections, pulling a few out to look at the covers before placing them back.

“You have a lot of poetry,” he observed, holding a copy of Emily Dickinson publications. “You really into it or something?”

You nodded, smiling as you answered, “Yeah, I love poetry. I think it’s incredible how people can weave words and thoughts together to make such beautiful statements.”

Sam listened to you speak, happy for a furthered glimpse into your world. That’s how he found himself, an hour later, sitting beside you on your bed as you talked about anything and everything. He felt comfortable with you, like he could relax in your presence. It wasn’t a feeling he was used to.

“So, what’s your deal with this town, Sam I Am?” you asked, rolling over to prop your head in your hands as you looked at him. “I didn’t notice you talking to anyone other than me today. Are you going for the whole mysterious loner vibe?”

Your tone was lighthearted and joking, but you were genuinely curious. Sam had kept to himself the entire day, and you’d noticed people giving him odd looks. It was almost like they didn’t like him for some reason.

“Yeah, I guess I sorta keep to myself. Things haven’t been easy here, and I’ve had a bit of a rough past. I’m still dealing with the fallout, you know?” Sam replied, picking at the bottom of his jeans. He didn’t elaborate further, afraid of scaring you off and ruining his one shot at a real friend. “Things have been better lately. You’re helping with that, actually.”

You could tell there was more to it, but you didn’t press for details. Sam seemed like the kind of person who didn’t open up often and you didn’t want to ask for too much too quickly. Instead, you kept the conversation lighter, talking for a while longer.

Eventually, you ended up watching a movie. It was some shitty cable action film, but Sam seemed to be invested. The long day had caught up to you, and you started to doze off.

Sam tensed up as he felt your head rest on his shoulder, but he didn’t dare move. He released a shaky, slow breath as he tried to relax, feeling his heart pounding against his chest. All thoughts of the movie were forgotten as he focused on the feeling of you curled against him. He didn’t know how long he sat there after the credits rolled and the screen went dark, but he couldn’t bring himself to get up and end this temporary moment of bliss.

As it got later, he knew he couldn’t stay. With great reluctance, he gently lifted your head and laid it against the pillows before easing off of the bed. He took one last look at you, smiling as he felt his heart constricting in an unusual way before he turned and walked out of the door.

The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed with the vague memories of falling asleep mid-movie. Begrudgingly, you got up and ready for the day before bounding down the stairs to the kitchen. You hopped onto one of the stools in front of the island, greedily grabbing at the plate of breakfast that Andrew sat down in front of you.

“Care to tell me why the neighbor boy was leaving your room at nearly one in the morning?” Andrew asked, pretending to be stern.

You rolled your eyes, snorting as you stuffed a piece of toast into your mouth.

“We were watching a movie and I fell asleep,” you told him, jumping down and grabbing your bag. “He’s just a friend, Drew. Don’t get your panties in a wad.”

You stuck your tongue out and him as you walked out the front door and he flicked you off in response. You jogged outside, making your way over to Sam’s house where he was waiting by his car.

“Morning, neighbor,” you said, cheerfully hopping into the passenger side. “Sorry I fell asleep last night. Did the movie have a good ending?”

Sam smiled at you, starting the engine and pulling out of the driveway. You sniffed the air, noticing the smoke smell had been replaced by the scent of a new air freshener and the trash had been cleaned out.

“Yeah, it ended well. The hero got the girl and everyone lived happily ever after, blah blah blah,” he joked, giving you a playful look.

In all honesty, he couldn’t really tell you how it ended. He’d been too focused on you to pay any attention to the rest of the movie. He sure as hell wasn’t going to admit that, though.

When lunch time rolled around, you both sat together at the table under the oak tree that you’d liked the day before. You’d insisted on getting lunch from the cafe, claiming that you needed to try the campus food at least once. Now, though, you understood why Sam had protested against it.

“Any plans for tonight?” Sam asked, giving you some of his fries as he took your pickle spear.

“No, I don’t think I have any—”

“Hey, new girl!”

You turned, your words being cut off by a group of students sitting at another table. You recognized them from yesterday. They beckoned you over, giggling and whispering to themselves as one of them said, “Come here for a sec!”

You glanced back at Sam, giving him an apologetic look as you said, “I’ll be right back, okay?”

Sam nodded, giving you a brief smile that fell the moment you walked way. He kept his head down, forcing himself to keep eating his lunch as a pit of jealousy began to form in his stomach. He tried not to worry, knowing he had no right to your time.

When you finally came back to the table, he tried to be casual as he asked, “So, did they just wanna say hi or something?”

“They actually invited me out with them, tonight,” you said, grinning happily. “They’re going out to the pier and wanted me to tag along. That’s exciting, right?”

Sam saw the excitement in your eyes, but couldn’t help feeling a twinge of disappointment and dread.

“Cool. That does sound fun. I’m happy for you,” he replied, forcing a smile onto his face.

He wanted you to be happy, but he also wanted to keep spending time with you. You were the first real friend he’d had in a long time. He knew he couldn’t be possessive over you, but he hoped you wouldn’t be pushed apart by this new social circle opening up for you.

“We’ll catch up later,” I told him, nudging his shoulder softly. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, Sam I Am.”

The evening had been fun. You’d gotten along well with the group you went out with. They filled you in on the ins and outs of the town and everyone in it — including Sam.

You hadn’t really listened much to what they’d had to say about him, brushing their words off. Other than that, the night had gone by without any problems. When you finally made it back to your house, you said goodnight to your brother and went upstairs to your room.

When you walked by your window, you noticed Sam through the window of his own room. You grinned, opening it up and climbing out to sit on the roof as you waved at him.

Sam hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you all afternoon. His mind had been a whirlwind of fears and doubts and self ridicule for missing you so much when he’d only just met you. When he spotted your figure out on the roof, his heart had skipped a beat.

He quickly got out of bed, opening up his window and climbing out. “Hey,” he called out, waving back at you.

The edges of your roofs were close enough that he could jump over onto yours with little effort. He sat down beside you, feeling the cool evening breeze against his skin.

“Did you have fun?” Sam asked, wanting to hear about your night even though a part of him was still nursing jealousy about your time with the popular crowd.

“Yeah, I had a lot of fun,” you said, smiling at him as you tucked your knees up to your chest and gazed up at the stars. “It’s so beautiful out here; isn’t it? I never saws the stars like this back home.”

Sam nodded in agreement, looking up at the night sky as well as he said, “It really is. I love nights like this, when it’s quiet and all you can hear are the waves.”

He tried, he really did, not to bring up the subject again, but he just couldn’t help himself. His self-sabotaging curiosity was getting the better of him, and he asked, “So, are you going to hang out with them more often now?”

You shrugged, picking at the roof as you said, “Maybe. They want me to.” You looked back over at him, leaning closer to nudge his side. “Don’t worry, though. I’ll always make time for you.”

Sam smiled and ducked his head to hide the soft blush warming his cheeks. Your gentle reassurance sent a flicker of relief through him.

“I wouldn’t want you to stop hanging out with me,” he said, softly, “but you don’t have to choose. I just want you to know that you have a friend in me, no matter what.”

He’d been guarded for so long, and this was the first time he’d felt like someone could break through his barriers. The more time you spent together, the more he realized he never wanted to go back to the way things were before he met you.

“You see that group of stars right over there?” you asked, pointing to a small cluster. “Do you know what constellation that is?”

Sam leaned over, squinting as he tried to follow your line of sight. He stared at the spot, but eventually shook his head.

You laughed quietly and said, “That’s ‘cause it’s not one. It should be, though, right? It makes the perfect image of a bundle of flowers. So, I decided to make it one myself. I call it Wildflower. It’s my favorite constellation.”

Sam looked up where you indicated, admiring the cluster of stars you’d dubbed Wildflower. “It’s beautiful,” he said, impressed by your creativity. “It makes sense. It really does look like a bundle of flowers.”

You both sat in silence for a while, staring up at the stars and listening to the sound of the waves crashing on the beach. You thought back to the evening you’d had, hesitating to even bring it up at all. Ultimately, you decided it would be best to talk about it.

“Hey, when I was out with that group tonight, they…mentioned some things about you,” you said, softly. “Like, drugs and other things… I didn’t entertain them or anything and I shut them down immediately, but I just wanted to know if you knew what they’d been referring to.”

Sam’s heart sank, hearing that the group had spoken about his past. He knew all too well the rumors and whispers that followed him, some completely ridiculous and some…much too true. His jaw clenched as he felt the familiar dread of isolation creeping back up on him.

“Yeah, it’s true,” he said, his voice low. “I’m clean now, though,” he added, finally meeting your gaze. “I turned my life around and I plan to keep it that way.”

You took a moment, processing his words. You could see the sadness in his eyes, the pain and regret. You hated that he was still so plagued by his past.

“The way I see it,” you started, giving him a small smile, “the past is the past for a reason. All that matters to me is who you are now, and that guy seems pretty cool.”

Sam let out a soft breath, blinking quickly as the sting of tears threatened his eyes. He felt a small weight fall off of his shoulders as he smiled at you.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “That means more to me than you know.”

Over the next few weeks, your friendship with Sam continued to grow. He still took you to campus every morning and you ate lunch together every day — unless the other group drug you away. Sam spent most afternoons at your house, even bonding with your brother. Andrew had started making an extra plate of breakfast for him every morning and expecting him at dinner every night.

One Friday night, you’d been getting ready to go out with the other group that had brought you into their circle. When you heard a knock at the door, you’d thought it was one of them. Your face fell with immediate concern as you opened the door to see Sam, tears streaming down his face.

“Sam, what is it? What’s wrong?” you asked, immediately stepping aside to let him into the house.

He stumbled through the door, gasping for air through the sobs as he tried to steady himself. “I don’t know what to do,” he cried, his voice breaking.

He explained that his father, who you knew had been in remission from cancer, had taken a turn for the worst. He felt helpless, like he was having to face the thought of losing him all over again after finally feeling like they were on solid ground.

“My mom’s freaking out and I need someone to help me keep it together,” he continued, looking at you with desperate, pleading eyes. “Please.”

Sam felt utterly raw and vulnerable, but he knew he could trust you. He needed you. He needed your light to wash away the darkness that was creeping up on him again.

“Oh, Sammy,” you sighed, feeling your heart break as you reached out to him. “Come here.” You wrapped your arms around him, holding him tightly. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Sam’s body trembled as you embraced him, his arms immediately snaking around your waist as he buried his face in your hair. His tears soaked through to your skin, but you didn’t mind.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled, hiccuping slightly as he gripped you tighter.

“He could still be okay, Sam,” you reassured him, rubbing his back. “People with health issues have backslides all the time and still get better. It’s good that the doctors caught it in time. I can’t promise that it will work out, but I can promise to be here every step of the way. You won’t go through it alone.”

Sam pulled away, despite his longing to stay in your arms forever, and wiped at his eyes. He was too overwhelmed to be embarrassed by the thought of crying in front of you.

“Thank you,” he said, letting out a shaky breath. “You’ve been a good friend.”

“You’ve been a good friend, too, Sam I Am,” you smiled, reaching up to wipe the remaining tears from his cheeks. “The best friend.”

You gently grabbed his arm, leading him over to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, you looked around until you spotted the plate wrapped in foil.

“Andrew isn’t here to cook,” you told him, “but I can heat up some left overs, yeah? You need to eat.”

Sam smiled at the use of his nickname, a small comfort in the midst of the turmoil. “Best friend, huh?” he echoed, a hint of shyness creeping into his tone.

He watched with appreciation as you warmed up the food, finally taking the time to realize how hungry he was. He ate dinner with you, grateful for the small sense of familiarity after a day of such uncertainty.

“You can stay here tonight, if you want to,” you offered, washing the dishes after you’d both eaten. “You can borrow some of Andrew’s clothes to sleep in.”

Sam thought about denying the offer, insisting that he’d be fine, but he couldn’t. He needed the support and there was no use in trying to act tough.

“I’d like that,” he said, softly. “Thank you.”

He changed into the clothes you’d given him as you went up to your room and pulled back the covers. You got in the bed as he lingered in the doorway, unsure of what his next move should be.

“You can sleep in here,” you told him, patting the space next to you. “I don’t mind and I’ll punch Andrew in the stomach if he has anything to say about it.”

Sam hesitated, glancing between you and the vacant space on the bed. Cautiously, he slowly walked toward you as if he was waiting for you to change your mind. He climbed onto the bed, leaving a respectful distance between the two of you.

His body tensed as you pulled him into your arms, holding him close. He rested his head on your chest, relaxing as he listened to the steady thrum of your heartbeat. You ran your fingers through his hair and his eyes fluttered shut.

The only thing he was certain about in the current maelstrom of uncertainty was that he never wanted to be anywhere else.

Over the next month, Sam’s dad made a recovery. You’d stayed by Sam’s side throughout the entire process. You’d gone with him to visit his dad in the hospital and got to know his mother. Sam had blushed furiously as they told you stories of Sam as a child and how he’d called his pajamas his Sammy Jammies. You’d let him stay at your house on nights when he didn’t want to be alone, and Andrew hadn’t even tried to protest it.

Things were better now, more lighthearted. You were sitting at your usual table under the oak tree for lunch and you were curiously watching Sam as he doodled in his sketchbook.

“What are these grand secrets you keep in that book of yours?” you asked, tossing a fry at him with a laugh. “It doesn’t matter how many times I ask, you never let me see what you’ve been drawing.”

Sam grinned, dodging the flying fry, and closed his sketchbook as he slid it under his seat.

“They’re personal, nosy,” he teased, shaking his head.

“Fine, keep your secrets,” you sighed, huffing dramatically.

The group that you hung out with occasionally walked past your table, waving at you and glaring at Sam. One of the guys, Nathan, lingered back. He smiled at you, giving you a flirtatious wink before sauntering off after them. A warm blush tinged your cheeks as you looked down at your food.

Sam observed the interaction, keeping his expression neutral despite the familiar twinge of jealousy he always seemed to feel when it came to you. He knew he had no right to feel that way, given the nature of your relationship, but the instinct was there nonetheless.

“So, any plans for the weekend?” he asked, hoping to steer the conversation in a different direction.

“Uh…I’m not sure, actually,” you said, awkwardly picking at the food on your plate. Noticing Sam’s confused expression, you added, “Nathan sort of asked me to go on a date with him, is all. I don’t know if I’m gonna go, though.”

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed as he tried to process the information. “Oh,” he said, trying to keep his tone even.

His emotions were a whirlwind. Surprise, concern, and — he couldn’t deny it — a hint of disappointment. He reminded himself that you were free to date whoever you chose, but he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of possessiveness.

He didn’t know how to respond, unsure of whether or not he should voice any opinion on the matter. Instead, he focused on his food. Deep down, he hoped you would choose him over Nathan, but he knew it was a pipe dream.

The tension hung in the air, thick and uncomfortable, as you both sat in silence.

“Yeah, I don’t know. I might go,” you said, quietly. You glanced up at Sam, feeling a sudden sense of vulnerability. “Do you think I should?”

Sam debated whether to offer his opinion, but ultimately decided against it. “It’s up to you. If you think you’ll enjoy it, then go,” he replied, noncommittally.

“Oh, yeah, okay,” you said, a bit dejected by his answer. “I guess I’ll go, then.” You smiled at him, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. You got up and grabbed your bag, starting to walk toward your next class. “I’ll see you after school, Sam I Am.”

Sam watched as you left, your response weighing heavily on him. His thoughts were consumed by the prospect of your date for the rest of the day. The idea of you with someone else bothered him more than he cared to admit. The green-eyed monster of jealousy was rearing its head once more.

Despite his conflicting thoughts, he knew he’d have to put on a brave face. You meant too much to him to jeopardize what you had. He was grateful for your friendship and, while part of him harbored deeper feelings, he knew that it was too late to cross that line.

On Saturday night, you sat in the car with Nathan as he drove you home. The date hadn’t been horrible, but it hadn’t been what you expected either.

He pulled up to your house, parking the car as he turned toward you. A half-smirk pulled at his lips before his face resembled that of a dead fish as he leaned toward you. Your eyes widened as you realized he wanted to kiss you.

“I had a great time tonight,” he whispered, pressing his lips to yours.

There was no spark, no butterflies, no magic.

You pulled back, smiling politely at him and thanking him for the date before getting out of the car.

You climbed the stairs to your room, opening the window and crawling out onto the roof. You threw tiny stones toward Sam’s bedroom, trying to get his attention.

Sam had been lying on his bed, wallowing in self-pity as thoughts of your date ate him alive. When he heard the thud of the rocks, his heart leapt into his throat. He opened his window, smiling before climbing over to join you.

“I just had the weirdest date of my life,” you laughed, rubbing your face with your hands. “He took me to this restaurant and literally just stared at me the entire time. It was like he didn’t know how to have a conversation. I tried talking to him about all sorts of things and he just…looked at me. Then, I suggested we go for a walk on the beach and he said he didn’t like sand. Sand! We live in a beach town and he doesn’t like sand. Not to mention he kissed me when he dropped me off and there was just…nothing.”

Sam listened intently as you recounted the evening, his heart swelling with relief as you described the lackluster nature of the date.

“Sounds like it was a bit of a dud,” he commented, his tone sympathetic.

He wanted to tell you how he felt, to share the depth of his emotion and how he saw the magic in you, but he held his tongue. It wasn’t his place to make such a move.

“Want to talk about it?” he asked, draping his arm over your shoulder as you leaned into him.

Sam felt a surge of gratitude for the moment, for being the one you chose to confide in. He realized he would always gladly take the role of your friend, even if it meant sacrificing the chance of something more.

“No,” you huffed, resting against him as you looked up at the sky. “Anyone who wouldn’t watch the stars with me isn’t worth ranting about.”

A few weeks later, you and Sam were sitting in your room as you were pleading with him to come with you to a party.

“C’mon, please, Sam?” you begged, pulling at his arm. “They want me to go, but I’ll be so bored without you.”

The group you were friends with had invited you to a party at Nathan’s beach house, but you didn’t want to ditch Sam to go to it.

“It’ll be good for you to get out and socialize for once,” you told him. “Plus, it’s right down the road so we could leave anytime we wanted to.”

Sam hesitated, a mix of anxiety and curiosity warring within him. “I don’t know. I’m not really into parties,” he replied, shifting his weight from leg to leg.

He was used to keeping to himself. The only person he hung out with was you. The thought of entering a crowd of people that he barely knew was daunting, especially when they seemed to have some sort of vendetta against him.

He didn’t want to ruin the evening for you, but the thought of facing Nathan and the others made him hesitate. However, in the end, his loyalty and desire to make you happy won out.

“Alright, alright, I’ll go with you,” he conceded, offering you a small smile, “but if things get bad, I want out. Deal?”

“Deal!” you squealed, wrapping your arms around him. “Thank you, thank you!”

You buzzed around your room, continuing to get ready. You liked socializing and enjoyed going to parties, but you didn’t like sacrificing your time with Sam to do so. This would be the best of both worlds.

Sam took a moment to admire you, the way you moved and smiled with such infectious energy. He felt a surge of pride in knowing you valued his company above all else.

As you left for the party, Sam’s apprehension lingered. It was tempered a bit by the knowledge that you’d be by his side. When you approached Nathan’s beach house, Sam prepared himself for whatever was in store.

The house was already loud and crowded as you walked in, the music blaring over the chatter of people. You grabbed Sam’s arm, dragging him into the kitchen and handing him a cup of soda. You poured yourself one of whatever liquor was on the table and downed it in one go.

Sam chuckled, touched by the fact that you’d remembered he was sober. He smiled in appreciation, grateful for the small gesture.

As you mingled, Sam found himself slipping into the background and observing the party around you. He spotted Nathan across the room, whose gaze was lingering on you before snapping over to Sam with disdain. Sam could feel the animosity and tension simmering between them, an unspoken tangible weight in the air.

You, however, seemed to be enjoying yourself. You were laughing and conversing with everyone, making Sam smile. Your happiness was his priority.

Making your way back over to Sam, you grinned and said, “See? It’s not so bad, is it?”

As you said that, two of Nathan’s friends ran into us. They both apologized, one of them placing his hand on Sam’s backpack.

“Don’t mind them, they’re just drunk,” I told him, rolling my eyes.

“No, not so bad,” he said, trying to believe his own words.

He couldn’t help but feel uneasy, like something was off, but he didn’t want to take away from your fun. Instead, he decided to grin and bear it. If it made you happy, that’s all that mattered.

You were about to make Sam go dance with you when Nathan got the attention of the crowd, standing up on his couch. Everyone gathered around as he made an announcement.

“Attention, folks, I’ve got your entertainment for the evening,” he said, a sadistic smirk on his face.

You felt your blood run cold as he pulled out Sam’s sketchbook. His friends must have snatched it when they ran into him. Sam immediately moved forward, but the two guys grabbed him to hold him still.

“Nathan, what the hell are you doing?” you yelled. “Stop and give that back!”

“Not so fast, sweetheart,” Nathan chided, wagging his finger. “Don’t you want to see what your little lover boy has been keeping from you?”

You scrunched your eyebrows in confusion as Nathan grinned.

“Exhibit A, the brilliant works of the freakish stalker,” he said, beginning to flip through the sketchbook.

Your eyes widened as a soft gasp escaped your lips. They were all drawings of you. From times spent on the roof, watching the stars, to sitting at your lunch table, to watching movies together. He’d even drawn you from the first day you met.

“Looks like you’ve got a not-so-secret admirer,” Nathan joked, making the crowd laugh.

Sam’s heart plummeted, a mix of anger and embarrassment welling within him. He fought against Nathan’s friends, but their grip was firm.

As the crowd gathered, Sam could feel the weight of their scrutiny. The words freakish stalker hit him like a punch to the gut. He swallowed hard, trying to suppress the humiliation churning in his chest.

The laughter of the crowd stung like salt to an open wound, leaving Sam to wonder if you’d see him differently now that his feelings were laid bare. He clenched his fists, wanting nothing more than to snatch the sketchbook back and leave.

“Wait, we haven’t even gotten to the best part yet,” Nathan cheered, flipping to the final page.

There was another drawing of you with the Wildflower constellation. On the page, Sam had written some words.

“The freak thinks he’s a poet now. How romantic,” Nathan taunted, turning the book around to read the words out loud.

“If I am the stars, you are the sky. I can only shine in the vastness of your presence. If I am the moon, you are the sun. Your light reflects upon what was once barren. If I am the earth, you are the wildflowers. I bloom when graced by you.”

Your heart stopped as Nathan read the poem Sam had written. The laughter from the crowd was overpowering. You felt like you couldn’t move. Everything was happening to him in a blur and you felt powerless to stop the cruelty.

“I guess little lover boy wears his heart on his page, huh?” Nathan joked, smirking at Sam. “Might as well run away while you can, freak. She’s never gonna reciprocate your little crush.”

Nathan’s friends let Sam go, shoving him back with a laugh.

Sam’s ears filled with a ringing, the crowd’s laughter a cacophony that left him feeling dazed and hollow. His face burned, his chest tight as he fell to the floor.

The denial of a possibility for a mutual connection felt like a dagger to the heart. Sam’s mouth worked soundlessly, unable to form the words that begged you to see past the humiliating spectacle.

In that moment, he couldn’t fathom how to navigate the murky waters of your relationship. The fallout of the night left him unsure of where you stood. He got up on shaky limbs, feeling unsteady as he pushed through the crowd and bolted out of the front door.

You watched Sam storm out, your heart shattering as he did. Your eyes scanned the crowd, rage burning within you as you glared at Nathan. You rushed up to him and grabbed Sam’s sketchbook from his hands.

“Fuck you!” you yelled, chest heaving as you looked at all of them. “Fuck all of you! You’re all sick and pathetic and cruel.” Your gaze zeroed back in on Nathan as you seethed, “You will never be even half the man that Sam is.”

You turned on your heel and ran out of the house, trying to find Sam. You spotted him down on the beach, rushing toward his house as he furiously wiped at his face.

You hurried after him and called out, “Sam! Sam, wait! Please!”

Sam felt the sting of rejection and humiliation trailing in his wake, the knowledge that he’d exposed his heart to the scorn of others weigh heavily on his shoulders.

As he trudged along, his fingers tightened around the hem of his shirt. The fabric smelled like you and he wanted nothing more than to find comfort in your embrace, but he knew he couldn’t. Not anymore.

Sam walked until he couldn’t escape the call of your voice anymore. He paused, torn between the desire to confront the situation and the urge to escape the cruelty and mortification that had fallen on him.

With teary eyes, he turned to face you as his heart pounded in his chest. He searched for the words to convey his feelings, to explain the torrent of emotions that had laid waste to the tender, private world he had crafted for you.

You caught up to him, breathless from running, and felt your heart ache at the sight of him. He looked utterly devastated and you hated that you couldn’t save him.

“I’m so sorry, Sam,” you breathed, the guilt washing over you like the ocean waves. “I had no idea they would do that. I had no idea they were capable of such cruelty. I never would’ve hung out with them if I’d known.”

You held out his sketchbook for him, looking down. You were afraid that he’d hate you for putting him in this position.

“I got this back for you,” you said, quietly.

Sam excepted the sketchbook, cradling it to his chest. He couldn’t bring himself to look at you, too scared that it would be the last time he’d get to.

“Those drawings…the poem…” you trailed off, not knowing what to say. “They’re really good. Incredible, even. You’re very talented…but, are they…do they mean…?”

Sam nodded, a stray tear dripping from his cheek as he lowered his head and whispered, “Yes.” He shook his head, sniffling and wiping his face. “I never meant for you to see them. I’ll stop if you want me to, I won’t…”

“Stop?” you asked, feeling tears prick at your eyes. “Sam, nobody has ever seen me the way you do. Those drawings are beautiful. You drew my constellation. You wrote me a poem.”

You walked closer to him, gently cupping his face in your hands and wiping away the teardrops on his cheeks.

“I knew from that first day I met you that you were different, Sam,” you told him, gazing up into his eyes. “You had the prettiest eyes I’d ever seen…and, now, I know you have the prettiest heart. It would be an honor to get to hold it in my hands.”

Sam froze, your touch a balm to his wounds. He felt strength return to his limbs, your words like a soothing salve. He searched your eyes for any sign of dishonesty, hardly daring to hope that what he was hearing was true.

“Do you…mean that?” he stammered, unsure if he deserved such acceptance.

“I wanted you to tell me not to go,” you whispered, your eyes never leaving his. “When Nathan asked me on that date, I wanted you to tell me not to go because…I wanted to be with you.”

Sam gasped softly, his eyes flickering with disbelief. You stepped closer to him, pressing your body against his as you stood on your tiptoes and kissed him.

Sam froze in shock for a moment before melting into you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you even closer.

Kissing Sam was like nothing you’d ever felt before. His lips left you breathless. When Nathan had tried to kiss you, you’d felt nothing. With Sam, you felt everything.

Sparks, butterflies, magic.

Your eyes fluttered open to gaze at him, a grin growing on your face as you bit your lip and grabbed his hand. You pulled him through your yard and to your front door, opening it as quietly as possible. You held a finger up to his lips, giggling softly.

“My brother’s asleep,” you whispered, quietly pulling him up the stairs.

Sam followed you like a giddy puppy. He still couldn’t believe the turn of fate that had been dealt to him. His heart swelled with joy and an inexplicable rightness.

As soon as your bedroom door was shut, your lips found his again. Sam’s head was spinning as you kissed him, a yearning hunger bubbling to the surface inside of him. Your fingers ran through his hair, a feeling that was so familiar yet so new. He didn’t want to come up for air, didn’t want to spend a second apart from you.

You pulled back for a moment, gently guiding him toward your bed. You gazed at him with desire-filled eyes, softly pushing him to lie back. Slowly, you climbed on top of him to straddle his hips.

“Let me make it all go away, Sammy,” you whispered, kissing the corners of his mouth. “Let me help you forget.”

Sam felt a shudder run through him — the weight of his past, the lingering shadows of regret, and the ghosts of addiction, pressed into submission by the warmth of your presence.

He parted his lips, his chest heaving with anticipation as you leaned over him. Your words were a siren call, luring him to the safe harbor he’d sought out for so long.

Sam let out a soft, shaky breath as he nodded his head. He gently grabbed your face, pulling you back in for a slow, sensual kiss.

Your tongues danced with each other as your mouths moved in tandem. You tugged at the silky strands of his hair, slowly rocking your hips against his.

Sam moaned into the kiss, his hands tightening in the fabric of your shirt. Your kisses were now laced in a fiery desperation, his hips arching to seek more. You kissed across his jaw, brushing your lips against his ear as you breathlessly asked, “Is this okay?”

His hands gripped your hips as his head fell back, exposing his neck for your attention. His breaths were strained, his hips shifting beneath you as he nodded, “Yes. More than okay. Please, keep going.”

You grinned, taking the hint and kissing a slow trail down the side of his neck. Every time your lips brushed a sensitive spot that made him shiver, you took the time to suck a deep purple mark into the pale skin. You soothed the areas with your tongue before continuing your descent.

Sam shivered and mewled, unable to control the soft noises leaving his lips. His skin felt like it was on fire, in the best way possible. His stomach tightened with the arousing thrill of being claimed by you, his neck now a tapestry of your affection.

His hands slid under your shirt, his fingers working the fabric upward as his eyes met yours in a silent question of permission.

You pulled back and tugged your shirt over your head, tossing it to the side before discarding your bra as well. You leaned back over him, grinning at the way his eyes locked onto your chest with boyish excitement.

“Have you ever done this before?” you asked, making his eyes snap back up to yours.

“No,” he answered, his cheeks tinging a soft pink. “At least, not like this. Not when it’s mattered.”

A flicker of his haunted past flashed through his eyes, but quickly melted away when you kissed his forehead.

“We can take it slow,” you reassured him. “I’ll guide you through it. You can tell me what you like and don’t like, okay?”

Sam nodded, feeling the anxiety dissipating as he gazed up at you. He lifted his arms, letting you pull off his shirt. You grinned at the sight of the hickeys marking his skin, tracing your finger over them. He squirmed beneath you, a soft whimper sounding in his throat.

“Don’t worry, Sammy,” you murmured, kissing his chest. “You’ll get what you want. We’ve got all night. There’s no need to rush.”

Sam’s eyes fluttered shut, the reassurance that this wasn’t fleeting sedating his restlessness. His heart pounded beneath your wandering lips, his muscles tensing as you played with the button on his jeans.

“Please,” he breathed, his voice a needy whisper. “Take them off.”

You didn’t hesitate to comply, hooking your fingers beneath the waistbands of his jeans and boxers before pulling them down his legs. You gasped softly as his erection sprang free, licking your lips as you admired him.

“You’re so pretty, Sammy,” you praised, wrapping your hand around his length to slowly stroke him. “So, so pretty.”

His face warmed with a deep blush at your praise, a bead of pearly white leaking from his rosy tip. He let out a shaky moan, muttering a quiet, “Oh, fuck.”

You smiled and cooed, “That’s it, Sammy. Just relax and let me make you feel good.”

You leaned down to press your lips against his tip, flicking your tongue around it to taste his arousal. Sam gasped, arching his back as his stomach clenched.

“A-ah,” Sam whimpered, gripping the sheets beneath him. “Please…”

You took him into your mouth as far as you could, feeling him brush against the back of your throat as you bobbed your head. Pretty mewls sounded from him as his legs moved restlessly. His chest heaved with exertion, his skin flushed a debauched red.

He whispered your name, his hips bucking involuntarily as he gasped, “I think…I’m getting close. Fuck.”

You pulled your mouth off of him, giving his tip one last soft kiss before trailing your lips back up his body. He let out a whine of protest, lifting his hips to try and chase your mouth.

You sat back and undid the button on your pants, removing the last bit of clothing that separated you before straddling him again. Sam’s eyes trailed over your body, his cock twitching at the mere sight of you.

“I wanted us to finish together, with you inside of me,” you told him, feeling the arousal dripping on your thighs. “Is that what you want?”

Sam nodded eagerly, moaning at the thought of being inside of you. “Yes, please,” he panted. “That’s what I want more than anything.”

His hands wandered over the curves of your body as you lined him up with your entrance. You slowly sank down onto him until you sat flesh against his hips. A sigh of pleasure left your lips as you felt him stretch you out, the delicious burn making you clench around him.

Your lips found Sam’s again as you began to ride him, lifting your hips to drop them back down. You both moaned into each other’s mouths, the scant space between you a mix of heat and desperation. You grabbed Sam’s hands, guiding them up to your chest.

“Touch me, Sam,” you breathed. “It’s okay. I want you to.”

Sam didn’t waste a second of the permission. His hands palmed your breasts, softly kneading them as he groaned. They felt perfect in his hands, his thumbs teasing the stiff peaks of your nipples.

You bit down on your lip, letting out a soft whimper as you moved your hips. Heat pooled low in your belly with each stroke of his cock inside of you.

As you both neared your peaks, Sam sat up and held you close to him. He thrusted his hips up in time with your movements, gazing up at you with pure adoration.

“Tell me you want me,” Sam whispered through shaky breaths, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I want you,” you breathed, feeling that knot beginning to unravel. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything, Sam. Your pretty eyes, and your sweet smile, and your adorable laugh, and…and…Sam!”

With a cry of his name, you came undone above him. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you as you squeezed around his cock. Sam followed immediately after, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he moaned out your name.

You rode out your highs together, clinging to one another through the haze of pleasure. When you both came down, your skin was glistening with sweat as your hearts pounded in time.

Sam gazed up at you with a disbelieving, blissed out grin. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours in a soft kiss.

“You mean everything to me,” he whispered, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Thank you for giving me a chance to prove it to you.”

You shook your head, resting your forehead against his. “You don’t have to prove a thing, Sam I Am. My heart is already yours.”

Later that night, as Sam slept in your arms, you couldn’t help but admire him. Your fingers traced the delicate lines of his face before trailing down to his chest.

You noticed a few freckles above his heart, seemingly making out the shape of a star. You connected each dot with your finger, smiling softly.

That was your new favorite constellation.

[tlhrfanfic]

Finn has a smut blog!

You can follow my smut blog here: @smutrequests.

MINORS DNI!!!

Feel free to send in some requests! Right now, I’m only taking Sanders Sides and other popular TS character (i.e. Remy, Picani, Nate, etc).

I don’t have a lot of squicks. Mostly no vore, bathroom stuff, vomit. So send me your requests and if I find I can’t do it, I’ll let you know! Oh, and no RemRom!

Be sure to shoot me an ask letting me know you are not a minor if you decide to follow this account!

[buckybabble]

GUESS WHO IS FINALLY FREE TO WRITE.... ME!

Hello everyone!

First and foremost I am so sorry that I’ve been gone for so long I’ve been so carried away with university and life but I have a few spare moments in which I’m going to try my utmost to pump out all the requests given to me. 

What is coming you ask? (Yes, that is a poor smutty pun and no I am not ashamed of it.)

- Loki smut 

- Doctor Strange smut

So sit tight darlings, you’re in for a summer of fun. Once again, I am so sorry this has taken so long to do. 

[cryinglana]

New person here!

Hi!, I’ll be doing wattpad stories and I’ll post them both here and wattpad!

I’m currently doing a dream smp smut book so got any requests?

[smutrequests]

Please shoot me an ask if you follow!

Use the account you followed on, off anonymous or if anonymous, include your url somewhere in the ask.

I’ll be going through and blocking anyone who has not messaged me/has their age or a variation of “i’m not a minor” in their description. 

It is not my job to make sure you guys are doing as I ask, so pretty please don’t make this hard on me <3

[cantthnk]

...

Idk,hence my name I don't rlly think that often,I do write,if u wanna see any of my work,lmk..I have multiple screen shots of what I've written to my friend any the following Charecters/ppl

Michael Myers

Nathan Sharp

Sebastian Michaelis

Lord Dimitrescu

Mida/Mido Rana

Markiplier

Lord Heisenberg

Johnny Depp

Michael Afton

Melanie Martinez

If you'd like to see any of them just um..lmk ig idk..

[inagetawaycarxo]

DEMON!DEAN MASTER LIST

🌹=fluff  💔=angst 🥵= smut

REQUESTS ARE OPEN ~

IMPORTANT AUTHORS NOTE: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY STORIES TO BE REPOSTED/TWEAKED ON PLATFORMS OR SITES WITH/WITHOUT CREDIT.

HOWEVER REBLOGS, COMMENTS, LIKES ETC ARE WELCOME BUT COPYING AND PASTING MY WORK ISN’T!

Back In Black  🌹 💔 💦 - y/n and Sam are on the hunt to find dean and cure him. Little does Sam know (y/n) is addicted to demon blood. Y/n finds dean before Sam does.

Deadly Obsession {Guardian!Angel!Reader} 💔-Demon!Dean’s obsession with the Angel!Reader becomes deadly when he kills the human, she is protecting.

HEADCANONS/PREFERENCES;

NSFW ALPHABET w/ Demon!Dean 

MOODBOARDS + AESTHETICS:

Demon!Dean

[iguessweallcrazyithinktho]

My request: y/n is a virgin from a traditional family. On her wedding night with Chris Evans her family teach her everything about serving and pleasing her man in bed. But the experienced Chris has other plans. When they see her walking funny in the morning and him with a big grin they know they have mission accomplished, little did they know Chris pleased her more. #smutrequest #chrisevanssmut

Please me baby

Warning: NSFW, penetration, Cunnilingus (female receiving)

For years Your sister has been telling you how to please a man. In your family you were only able to Lose your virginity after marriage. And since your sister was married way before you she made it her mission to teach you things about sex.

She told you how to give a man a blow job, missionary, so many other things. You were confident you knew how to do it but at the same time scared.

Chris carried you into your wedding night suite, soft giggles falling from his lips same as yours.

Lightly Chris sat you down on the bed before he placed a gentle kiss on your lips. It was almost if he would have kissed you harder he would have broke you

"now Mrs. Evans let's get down to what were really here for." Chris started pushing the strap off your dress down your shoulders slowly as he brushed his lips against yours

standing up you let him pull down the dress. it pooled on the floor before you stepped out of it. Chris was quick to take off his suit as you laid back against the bed

your heart was racing and your mind was spinning. seeing his body made you so nervous. Chris know how to please a woman but will you know how to please him?

once everything was off of you both, Chris crawled up the bed to kiss you. his tongue slipped into you mouth making you moan slightly. he took your left leg wrapping it around his waist, pressing down so you can feel his cock press against your wet pussy.

when he pulled away you were quick to get up so you could please him. “baby what are you doing?” Chris asked as he kissed your neck.

“I um... I...got to please you.” you said, mumbling really. Chris quickly let out a laugh making your body heat up. Did he hate you for that action?

Chris sat scooting down the king bed down to your pussy. “Don’t worry about me baby. just relax, tonight’s all about you.”

before you had a chance to say anything your clit was in between his lips. He sucked harshly, using his tongue after the fact to enter your wet mound.

you threw your head back against the pillow. your ring covered left hand went to his hair, pushing him closer to your pussy that was greedy for him.

Chris was enjoying you like crazy. he’s been waiting for this moment for a while. It sucked not being able to please you for 2 years, and it really didn’t help when he heard you pleasuring yourself while moaning his name.

back then he just wanted to take you. Now all the pent up sexual tension was finally going to be resolved tonight.

Chris pushed his tongue into your wet cunt, lapping at the juice that was there. you moaned at the feeling, looking down to see the man eyes shut as he enjoyed you.

you can feel your lower stomach growing tighter and your breathing growing faster. you were moaning louder and you were gripping Chris’s hair tightly.

Chris groaned as he know what was coming next. with a second to spare he sucked at your clit harsher then the last time sending you over the edge.

“Fuck, Chris.” your screams filled the room. your legs began to tighten around Chris’s head. He had to pull them down before you suffocated him.

Chris lapped at your pulsing clit, only pulling away when he heard you whimpering. he sat up looking at you.

you were smirking as you closed your legs. “well that was better then I expected.” you sat up on your arm as Chris kissed you. his tongue darted in your mouth, running it over yours. you moaned as you could taste yourself on his lips.

Chris pulled away brushing his nose against yours. you can feel his hard cock against your wet sex. you couldn’t wait anymore, you need him in you.

“Chris fuck me. I’ve been wait forever for this.” Chris chuckled at your words. “don’t to ask twice baby.” 

He took a hold of manhood, pushing it in you slowly. You were tight making him hiss loudly. you whined as you felt a pain but it was quickly changed into pleasure as Chris started to thrust in you

you gripped onto his shoulder feeling how huge he is. “fucking hell Chris.” he gripped onto your waist before grounding his hip into yours. he bite his lip, grunting and groaning as feel just how tight you were. Just as he imagined.

You took a hold of blanket underneath you. sex was just as amazing and it was even more amazing because it was with Chris

from not having for so long you were so close to your orgasm. so Chris. “Chris I’m close.” you whimpered through your loud moan. Chris looked down at you, “I know baby. let go with me.” his voice was so deep, so deep it was enough to threw you over the edge.

you wrapped your legs around Chris’s body feeling yourself get sensitive. Chris wasn’t far behind you. he came deep inside. he fell on top you, careful to crush you. You could hear and fell his uneven heart and breathing.

You were in the same situation. breathing uneven, heart beating fast in your chest. lucky for you you were in for a long night of more fun.

the next morning you and chris were off to your honeymoon. you were walking funny from your night last night and your sister noticed as you passed her on the way out

She did nothing but smirk and winked at you

mission completed 

wow that was a lot lol

[ceoofsammonroe]

What We Do In The Shadows - James Kelly Smut

Summary: You meet James at a club that your friends had dragged you to and you both find what you’ve been looking for, hidden in the depth of the shadows.

Warnings: unprotected sex, penetrative sex, public sex, reader and James get freaky in a dark corner of a club, exhibitionism, handjob (James receiving), fingering (reader receiving), grinding, alcohol consumption, drink sharing, use of pet names (doll, baby, etc.), teasing, begging, mentions of smoking, as always James is a constant yapper.

Masterlist

The low thumping of a gritty bass vibrated through your body as you idly sipped on the remnants of your drink.

Your friends danced around you, laughing and jumping beneath the haze of fog and strobe lighting. You swayed along with them, trying to match their energy but not quite hitting the mark.

They had dragged you out to this club after staging a makeshift intervention about how you were supposedly turning into a hermit. They swore that you were far too young and hot to be spending every night hulled away in your home and insisted you come out with them tonight to let loose and ‘get some’.

You’d begrudgingly agreed and went with them on the pretense that you’d just be hanging out and not searching for any random hookup. However, now that you were here, you found yourself scanning the dark room for anyone that would catch your attention.

It was pointless, though. Every face you saw looked just like the repetitive boring supply that drove you to reclusiveness in the first place.

It wasn’t that you weren’t interested in having some fun. It was just that nothing seemed to spark your interest. Every guy felt the same, forcing you into a monotonous rhythm that was unfulfilling and unsatisfying.

You wanted something that would excite you, that would make you feel alive again, but that conquest was growing more and more hopeless with every passing moment.

James had a headache.

The pounding of the overly loud music was hammering against his skull and the too bright flashes of lights in the otherwise dark room were disorienting.

God, he was getting old.

He took a swig of his beer, rubbing his thumb against the drops of condensation on the glass bottle.

His coworker, Adam, had tricked him into coming out tonight — much to James’ disdain. This was not his usual scene. In fact, his usual scene was relaxing on his couch in the comfort of his own home.

“You could at least pretend to be having fun,” Adam sighed, giving him a pointed look.

“You said we were goin’ out for drinks,” James retorted, leaning against the small table they were standing beside.

“Are we not drinking?” Adam asked, gesturing to the beers they each had in their hands.

James rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he said, “I thought we were goin’ to a bar. Somewhere we could watch the game or somethin’. Not some place this…chaotic.”

“Look, man, someone had to drag you out of that cave you’re always hiding in,” Adam shrugged, taking another drink of his beer. “You need to go out, see people. You need friends.”

“I have friends…” James scoffed, though even he didn’t sound convinced. “I mean, we’re friends.”

“We’re work friends,” Adam corrected him. “That doesn’t count. Besides, dude, you gotta get laid. When was the last time you got any?”

James felt his cheeks warm at the question and he didn’t feel particularly inclined to answer. Instead, he raised his empty bottle and said, “I’m gonna go get another drink.”

He weaved through the sweaty crowd, grimacing to himself as he made his way to the bar. He rubbed his temples as he waited for another beer, thanking the bartender once he was given a fresh bottle.

His eyes scanned the crowd briefly, looking for anyone that might pique his interest before he shook his head with a sigh.

Truthfully, James really hadn’t gotten any in a long time. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be getting laid — he was a man, after all — or that women weren’t interested in him. He’d had plenty of girls show him interest, it just all seemed like too much work.

He didn’t understand why there were so many steps nowadays to gauge whether or not you even wanted to pursue something with someone. Maybe it was old fashioned, but James missed the feeling of just connecting with someone.

He let out a huff, taking a swig of his drink and turning to go back and tell Adam he was going to go home.

He stopped in his tracks when his eyes landed on someone across the room.

You felt his eyes on you before you saw him.

The ruggedly handsome man at the bar looked somewhat startled when your gaze locked with his, but he didn’t break the eye contact. Instead, he tilted his head to the side as his lips pulled up in an intrigued smile.

Something about the way he was looking at you ignited a spark in your chest that you hadn’t felt in a long time. You noticed yourself swaying to the music a little more sensually, relishing in the way his eyes slowly trailed up and down your body, appreciatively.

You looked away from him momentarily, turning to your friends as you said, “I’m gonna go grab a drink.”

You made your way through the crowd, watching his grin widen as he raised his bottle to his lips. He looked at you expectantly as you approached him, seemingly waiting for you to make the first move.

With a smirk, you turned away from him and faced the bar like you’d only walked over to order a drink. He nodded, poking his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he let out a deep chuckle.

He leaned in closer to you, his lips hovering near your ear as he said, “If the goal is to get me beggin’ for your attention…it’s workin’.”

You glanced over at him with a raised brow, making a show of giving him a scrutinizing once over.

“Oh, sorry,” you said, grinning up at him, “didn’t see you there.”

“Right, right…” he drawled, biting back an amused smile. “Well, since I’ve got you here now, I’m James.” He waited, eyebrows raised as silence passed between you. “Are you gonna tell me your name, or…?”

“You haven’t earned my name yet, James,” you told him, leaning against the bar with a tilt of your head. “Although, that begging you mentioned earlier might give you an advantage.”

James breathed out a laugh, shaking his head as his eyes sparkled with interest. He focused on your face, narrowing his gaze as if he was trying to figure you out.

“Can I at least buy you a drink?” James asked, gesturing to the bar.

You looked down at the beer in his hand, smirking as you took it from him and said, “This one will do, thanks.”

James blinked as his mouth opened and closed, caught off guard by your boldness. His attention was quickly redirected to the way your lips wrapped around the bottle as you downed the rest of the drink. He fought back a groan as you licked the remaining droplets from your lips, slamming the empty bottle on the counter and taking a step closer to him.

You trailed your fingers down his arm before grabbing his hand, pulling him with you as you said, “Dance with me, James.”

James wasn’t a dancer — never had been — but, as you asked him to dance, he couldn’t possibly refuse. He felt entranced, like you’d bewitched him somehow and trapped him under your spell. He didn’t have a single complaint about it, though.

He followed you out to the dance floor, his eyes never once leaving yours. There was a growing tension between you, a heated tether that was pulling you closer together.

As you melded in with the crowd of moving bodies, you gripped the front of James’ shirt and pulled him into you. His hands gripped your hips as he glanced around at the rest of the crowd before looking back down at you, a sheepish grin on his face.

“I don’t really know what I’m doin’ out here, doll,” he said, though he made no move to leave. His thumb rubbed the fabric of your dress as he leaned down closer and asked, “You gonna show me?”

“Yeah, I’ll show you,” you smirked, reaching up to trace your fingers over his brow. “Close your eyes.”

James’ eyes fluttered shut as he released a shaky breath, waiting eagerly for your next move.

You ran your fingers along the edges of his ears as you said, “Listen to the sound of the music. Focus on it. Block out all the other chatter.” James shivered, but did as you said. You moved your touch down the sides of his neck, placing your hands flat on his chest. “Feel the pulsing of the bass inside of you, like a heartbeat. Let it meld with your own.” James all but groaned at the feeling of your soft hands rubbing against his chest, but he focused on the task at hand. He honed in on the deep vibrations, unable to tell where his heartbeat ended and the bass began. You wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your tip-toes to whisper in his ear. “Now, feel the person in your arms. Feel how my body molds against yours. Move with it, with the music.”

James’ breath hitched as you placed a soft kiss beneath his ear. His eyes opened, blown pupils staring down at you with a mix of desire and curiosity.

Slowly, you began to move with the music. His body moved in time with yours as his hands slid around to your lower back, pressing you closer against him.

His body felt firm against your own, the faint scent of smoke and cedar swirling around you. His touch was surprisingly gentle, almost as if he was afraid he’d break you. He quickly fell into the rhythm, letting himself go as the heat built between you.

“See? You’re a natural,” you grinned, swaying your hips to the rhythm.

“It helps havin’ a hot teacher,” James smirked, leaning down until his face was a few inches from yours. “Although, it kinda makes a guy wanna misbehave.”

The friction of your bodies was tantalizing, wrapping you both in a haze that had nothing to do with the fog and smoke in the air.

James’ gaze flickered down to your lips as his tongue darted out to wet his own. He leaned in, slowly, and you could feel your body humming with anticipation. He let his lips just barely brush against yours before he gripped your hips and turned you around, pressing your back against his chest.

Your breath caught in your throat as he wrapped his arms around your waist, brushing his lips against your ear.

“Do you feel what you’re doin’ to me, doll?” James breathed, pressing his hips against your ass to let you feel the growing hardness beneath his jeans. “You’ve got me hypnotized.”

You bit your lip as he nipped at your earlobe, feeling scatters of goosebumps erupt along your skin. His breath fanned against your neck as he trailed soft kisses down to your shoulder.

“Maybe that was my plan all along,” you quipped, reaching back to tangle your fingers in his hair. It was softer than you’d expected, feeling silky to the touch. “To seduce you and lure you into my clutches.”

You danced to the music, intentionally grinding your ass back against him. James groaned in your neck, gripping your hips as he rocked into you.

“Fuck, baby,” he cursed, feeling desire burning through him like a wildfire. “You won’t hear me complainin’.”

James’ cock pulsed in time with his heart, nestled against the curve of your ass. He had to fight the urge to rip your dress off and fuck you right there — in the middle of the dance floor. He hadn’t felt this kind of raw need in a very long time and he was quickly losing his resolve.

Everywhere James touched felt electric as his hands roamed across the fabric of your dress. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had chemistry this natural with someone. It was like your bodies had known each other for a lifetime, and god did they want to reunite.

You tightened your fist in his hair as he grazed his teeth along your shoulder, using your free hand to guide one of his down your thigh.

He caught the hint, chuckling against your ear as he gripped the plush flesh. He let his hand disappear beneath the skirt of your dress, softly trailing his fingertips up and down the inside of your thigh.

Your skin felt hot beneath his teasing touch, flushed and glistening with sweat. There was a tightness growing in your lower belly, nearly making you forget where you were. Your head leaned back against his shoulder as your eyes fluttered shut, the pounding of your heart nearly drowning out the music.

James could feel the heat of your desire between your thighs and his mind was filled with thoughts of touching you, feeling you, tasting you. He noticed how your breathing quickened and the subtle way you parted your legs, and he couldn’t resist moving his hand a little higher to brush against the damp fabric of your panties.

Your eyes shot open as you gasped, tugging sharply on his hair. His touch was fleeting, teasing you before moving down your other thigh.

You turned back around to face him, your knees nearly buckling beneath the look of want in his eyes.

“That’s awfully bold,” you said, sounding as breathless as you felt. “Copping a feel of a stranger in a crowded club.”

He gripped your chin, tilting your head back and pulling your face close to his as he whispered, “Wanna see what else I can do in a crowded club?”

He trailed his thumb along your bottom lip, pulling it down as he leaned forward and took it between his teeth. You inhaled a sharp breath, peering up at him through your lashes. He raised an eyebrow, waiting on your answer.

You nodded at him, too dizzy with need to form a verbal response. His lips spread into a primal grin as he led you through the crowd. You followed him toward the dark corner where the shadows could hide your secrets. Finding an alcove, he spun you around and pressed your back against the wall.

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest as you gripped the front of his shirt, gazing up at him. His mouth turned up in a smug smirk as he leaned in to trail soft kisses along your jaw.

“Where’d that chatty personality go, hm?” James teased, his breath hot against your ear. “You were such a smooth talker, doll, what happened? Cat got your tongue?”

Your face flushed at his teasing, but you couldn’t find the words to argue your case. Instead, you grabbed his face and captured his lips in a hungry kiss.

James groaned, pressing you harder against the wall as his lips devoured yours. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as you licked into his mouth. He hummed in approval as you tugged on the strands, rocking his hips against yours.

Your eyes shot open with a gasp as you felt his hand snake beneath your dress, teasing you over your panties with his fingertips.

He stared down at you through hooded eyes, breathing heavily as he watched you squirm against his touch. He grinned, wickedly, as he felt the fabric dampen even more with his soft touch.

“What’s got you so wet, baby?” James taunted, playfully, nipping at your bottom lip. He dropped his voice to a husky whisper as he said, “Gettin’ all hot ‘n bothered hidin’ in the shadows like this?”

You released a shaky breath as he kissed down your neck, sucking softly against your pulse point. He slowly started sinking to his knees, gazing up at you as he trailed his lips down the fabric of your dress.

“James, someone might see,” you whispered, feeling your heart race as you warred between watching him and glancing around to make sure nobody was looking.

He looked up at you with a smirk as he reached under your dress, slowly peeling your panties down your legs.

“Let ‘em watch,” he shrugged, stuffing the garment in his back pocket as he stood up again.

He grabbed the back of your thigh, hooking your leg around his waist to open you up for him. He kissed you, slowly and deeply, as he pressed you back against the wall and shielded your body.

“Relax, doll,” he murmured, moving to kiss your neck. “Nobody can tell what’s happenin’, even if they do look this way. Besides, they’re all too drunk to care.”

A soft moan escaped your lips as he began to circle your clit. The callouses on his fingers made for a delicious friction, building the ache that was growing in your belly.

“Fuck,” you breathed, gripping onto his shoulders for support. You leaned your head back against the wall, giving his mouth better access. “That feels so good.”

James chuckled against your neck, his warm breath making you shiver.

“Yeah? Feels good?” James asked, lifting his head back up to look at you. “What about this?” You gasped as James eased a finger inside of you, stretching you out before adding a second one. James grinned, curling his fingers. “Does that feel good?”

A soft mewling sound resonated in your throat as you fisted the fabric of his shirt. He was watching you with rapt attention, taking in every little reaction he was pulling out of you. His thumb circled your clit as two of his fingers pumped inside of you, curling against that spot that made you see stars. He was working your body with expert precision, like he’d unraveled you time and time before.

“Yeah, feels good,” you panted, trying to get ahold of yourself. His touch was making you dizzy, filling you with an untamed desire. “I can’t let you do all the work, though.”

James raised an eyebrow as you spoke, rubbing your hands down his chest. You smirked up at him, undoing the button of his jeans. His eyes grew darker as a groan escaped his lips, his hips bucking forward instinctively. He chewed on his lip as you slowly undid the zipper, letting your finger trail down the bulge in his boxers.

“Fuck, doll,” he hissed, his cock twitching in his boxers. “You wanna touch me? Wanna wrap those soft hands around me, make me feel good?”

You nodded, dipping your hand past the waistband to wrap your fingers around his cock. You began to slowly stroke him, making a deep groan sound in his throat. He was already slick with pre-cum, his length throbbing in your hand.

“Good thing I decided not to wait any longer,” you purred, squeezing him tighter. “Feels like you were about to explode any second there.”

“Shit, baby,” he moaned, thrusting into your fist. “You have no idea. Coulda came just from touchin’ you, from feelin’ you squeezin’ my fingers all tight.”

His fingers were still pumping in and out of you, coaxing you closer to the edge. You used your free hand to push the front of his boxers down, exposing his cock to the thick air between your bodies.

Your hand looked small around it as you twisted your fist over him. You clenched around his fingers just at the sight of him, almost drooling at his size.

A cocky smirk pulled at James’ lips as he said, “Like what you see, baby? Thinkin’ about how good it would feel buried in that tight little pussy of yours?”

Your eyes fluttered as you whimpered, dripping onto his hand. He pulled his fingers out of you, earning a whine of protest as your walls clenched around the sudden emptiness. His eyes glimmered with lust as he brought his fingers up to his lips, sucking them clean.

“Mm,” he moaned, breathing deeply. “You taste so good, doll. So fuckin’ sweet. I wanna bury my face between your thighs until you’re screamin’ my name…but we can’t risk that.”

You wanted to tell him to risk it all, not caring if anyone saw, but you knew you couldn’t. Still, it didn’t stop your body from trembling at the thought.

Instead, you gripped the back of his head and pulled his lips back onto yours. You moaned into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue.

His kiss was desperate and hungry, matching the boiling heat inside of you. He replaced your hand on his cock as he kissed you, rubbing the damp tip against your swollen clit.

“Ah,” you gasped, instantly rocking your hips forward.

James tilted his head to the side, grinning as he said, “Oh, that’s what you want, huh? You want me to fuck you? Want me to fill you up so full that nobody else will ever feel as good?”

“Yes,” you moaned, gripping his shirt as you swallowed thickly. “I want you to fuck me. I’ve wanted you to since I saw you by the bar.”

“Are you sure, doll?” James asked, taunting you. He teased his tip around your entrance, nudging forward without actually pushing inside of you. “I can stop if I need to…”

“I’m sure! I’m sure, just…please, fuck me, James,” you begged, desperately tugging at his hips to try and make him move forward.

“Eager baby,” James cooed, chuckling lowly. “I’ve got you, doll, don’t worry. Gonna make you feel so good, I swear.”

He eased his hips forward, slowly sinking into you. Once he was buried to the hilt, feeling you snugly wrapped around him, he let out a shaky moan.

“Oh my god…” you breathed, letting out soft sounds of pleasure as you clung to him. He was stretching you out in a way that made your knees buckle. “Please, move. Fuck me.”

“Gladly, baby,” he said, wasting no time in setting a steady pace.

His hips snapped against yours, thrusting into you relentlessly as your eyes rolled back. Your toes curled as you clutched his shirt tightly, unable to stop the lewd strings of moans and whines spilling from your lips.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, doll,” he groaned, leaning his forehead against yours. “Nice ‘n wet, too. God, you’re fuckin’ soaked. All for me, hm?”

“James,” you mewled, digging your nails into his shoulders.

Every thrust was angled perfectly, like his cock was made to fit inside of you. He cradled the back of your head to keep it from hitting the hard wall, a gentle gesture in contrast to the way he was fucking you. He hiked your leg up higher, pushing in deeper as you let out a loud moan.

“Oh, god,” you whined, scrunching up your eyebrows. “Don’t stop. Fuck, just like that.”

“Shh, baby,” James whispered, kissing you softly as he grinned. “We can’t have you drawin’ everyone’s attention, can we?”

You bit down on your lip to keep quiet, suddenly reminded of the fact that you were still in public. A thrill coursed through you, making you clench around him as your heart pounded.

“Oh, you like that, doll?” James asked, brushing his lips against your ear. “You like knowin’ that I’m fuckin’ you right here where anyone could see us?”

You gasped, nodding your head as you whispered, “Yes.”

He nipped at your earlobe, bringing his hand down to rub fast circles against your clit as he thrust into you.

“Such a dirty girl,” he purred, licking the shell of your ear. “Gettin’ off on the risk of bein’ caught with a stranger’s cock buried deep inside you? Shoulda just bent you over the bar n’ fucked you right there like I wanted to.”

Your lips parted in a silent cry as you panted, feeling a rush of heat through your bloodstream as you lost the rest of your resolve.

“I’m gonna come,” you breathed, moving your hips to meet his thrusts. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.”

“Come for me, doll,” he groaned, snapping his hips harder against yours. “Wanna feel you squeezin’ my cock, milkin’ it dry.”

White hot pleasure washed over you in waves as you came around him. James fucked you through it, kissing you roughly to swallow down your moans. His hips stuttered as he followed after you, biting down on your lip as his release spilled inside of you.

James’ thrusts slowed to a stop as the both of you came down. He kissed your temple, breathing heavily as he tried to regain his composure.

You gazed up at him through slightly blurred vision, taking in the deep blue of his eyes and the bright flush of his cheeks. He reached a gentle hand up to brush back the hair that had clung to your forehead as he leaned in to kiss you softly.

You melted against his lips, drowning in his kiss.

He eased out of you, holding you steady as he helped you fix your dress. You could feel him dripping down your thighs, causing a heat to creep up your neck.

Glancing over his shoulder, you spotted your friends searching for you by the bar. You let out a shaky breath, looking back up at James with a sheepish smile.

“I gotta get going,” you told him, placing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Thanks for the dance.”

James begrudgingly let you go, his eyes following you with longing as you walked away from him. His heart was still racing, completely captivated by you.

When you rejoined your friends, they all gave you curious looks and immediately questioned your whereabouts. You rolled your eyes and laughed, walking toward the door as they pestered you relentlessly for answers.

As you stepped outside, the cool air felt nice against your flushed skin. The gentle breeze did, however, remind you of your current lack of underwear — thanks to a certain thief.

Before you could walk toward the car waiting for you, you felt a hand on your arm. You turned around to see James, grinning as he held out a cigarette toward you.

You quirked a brow, shaking your head as you said, “I don’t smoke.”

“It wasn’t intended for you to smoke,” he shrugged, handing it to you anyways.

You glanced down at it, seeing that he’d scrawled his number on the side of it.

He leaned in to your ear and whispered, “Call me ‘n tell me if I earned your name.”

He smirked as he pulled back, giving you a wink before disappearing back into the dark club.

You bit your lip to conceal your grin as you turned back to your friends, meeting their shocked and thrilled faces.

You spent the entire car ride back filling them in on every detail, listening to their squeals and gasps of excitement.

It was safe to say that you’d found the thing you hadn’t even realized you’d been looking for and, as you clutched the unlit cigarette in your hand, you couldn’t wait to see him again.

[pansexuallie]

Taking Requests

What a coincidence! I want to write some new smut, and you want to read some new smut! 

Yes you do, I know that look.

If you have a request, let me have it. If you don’t, maybe reblog and help me spread the word? THANKS!

[anime-trashpile-blog]

Haikyuu-smutrequests is no more!

Me and Highcross decided that it would be a good idea to add more fandom's onto the blog, aside from just haikyuu. Thus, we have now added voltron and bnha, meaning you guys can send in asks and headcanons for those fandom's too. We had to change our blog name, so we are now anime-trashpile!

I hope nobody gets rage-y about this

[tsukishhhima]

Can you give me some good tsukikagehina blogs and/or fanfics

Well theres’s my blog obviously… and then.. I actually don’t know any others that post a lot of this ship :( but @headphone-love writes headcannons for them sometimes!

As for fanfics, there are a few on AO3 if you go through the tag, but my favorite has got to be Something Bigger by @ellessey-writes 

And these two are nsfw but I have to include them bc they’re amazing: this by my friend @haikyuu-smutrequests and this by @esselley :)

[inagetawaycarxo]

Evan Buckley Master List

🌹=fluff  💔=angst 🥵= smut

REQUESTS ARE OPEN 

IMPORTANT AUTHORS NOTE: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY STORIES TO BE REPOSTED/TWEAKED ON PLATFORMS OR SITES WITH/WITHOUT CREDIT.HOWEVER REBLOGS, COMMENTS, LIKES ETC ARE WELCOME BUT COPYING AND PASTING MY WORK ISN’T!

Sex w/ Food  [KinkOctober] 🥵

Handcuff sex w/ Buck Or Eddie [KinkOctober]🥵

[themoonkilledmyshadows]

Guess who's back.?

Hi so I left tumblr, I am back now. Ill post some smut to make you happy

[ceoofsammonroe]

Wake the Dead - Sam Monroe Smut

Summary: You meet Sam during his shift at the local video store on a search for something to make you feel alive and decide to drag him to the old cemetery.

Warnings: sexual acts in an open grave, mentions of murder, talk of the dead, handjob (Sam receiving), public sex, fingering (reader receiving), defiling a gravesite, smoking, reader is kinda “manic-pixie-dreamgirl” coded my bad.

Masterlist

Sam Monroe hated his job.

Well, okay, maybe it wasn’t the worst in the world. He could’ve been made to wear a ridiculous uniform and flip burgers at the local diner down the street. Still, he wasn’t exactly thrilled to be restocking the same ten family movies all day every day.

Nobody ever came into the video store for anything interesting. It was always middle-aged moms with their whiny children, asking him where some shit Disney film was located while giving him disapproving glares.

Sure, maybe he always had vulgar music blaring through the speakers while some gory slasher played on the television, but what did they expect? He’d drive a stake through his own eye before he’d be forced to listen to some nonsensical bullshit about princesses and happily ever after.

The new Deftones record was his current pick, the music filling the silence of the vacant store as he leaned against the counter and sorted through the returns.

The excruciating sound of the bell above the door chimed through the grunge rock, making Sam cringe and curse underneath his breath. He didn’t even bother turning around as he mumbled, “We’re closing in five minutes.”

“Guess I’d better get to looking quickly, then,” you said, shrugging and smiling to yourself at the grumpy store clerk. You could only see the back of him, but he piqued your interest.

The sound of your melodic voice made Sam’s ears perk up and he finally turned around. His eyes widened a bit at the sight of you, not expecting to see someone his age. Especially not someone so pretty.

Your eyes traveled over the length of him as he turned to face you. He was cute — in that “I’m a total punk” kind of way.

Sam’s throat felt scratchy as he swallowed, his tongue fiddling with his labret piercing. He quickly turned down the music, giving you a sheepish half-smile.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably as a flush creeped up his neck and said, “Yeah, I guess so. I can help you search for something. We have a pretty big selection, though, so you might have to narrow it down a bit.”

His eyes scanned the length of you, hoping against hope that you wouldn’t ask him for the romance section or something equally as disgusting. He knew you’d never been in this store before, at least not when he’d been working. He definitely would’ve remembered you.

“I’m looking for a good scare,” you said, hooking your thumbs through your belt loops as you grinned at him. “Something to really get your pulse racing, ya know?”

Sam’s eyes lit up with excitement as he beamed at you. You were hot and into horror? He nearly came in his pants right then and there.

“Well, the horror section is right over there,” he said, pointing over to the corner. “You like found footage? I’d recommend that if you wanna get a decent scare. Unscripted, unedited, pretty terrifying.”

“Ah, so you’re a Blair Witch kinda guy, huh?” you asked, your lips quirking up in amusement. “Good to know.”

Sam’s grin grew as he nodded and said, “The Blair Witch Project was groundbreaking for its genre. It really had the entire population convinced that they were watching these kids die right in front of their eyes.” He leaned forward against the counter, trying to play it cool as he added, “I’m Sam, by the way. Sam Monroe.”

“Nice to meet you, Sam Monroe,” you grinned, repeating his full name.

You couldn’t help but notice the soft blush on his face that brought out the bright blue of his eyes. The color nearly matched the vibrant streak in his black hair. He had the whole look going for him — the eyeshadow, the painted nails, the clunky rings.

Sam felt flustered under your gaze, shifting nervously as he asked, “So, you got a favorite horror flick, or is this your first time diving into the abyss?”

You smirked and said, “Ironically, considering your whole ‘what’s your favorite scary movie’ question, I’m a sucker for a good slasher. Scream, to be exact.”

“Scream, huh? Classic. You’ve got good taste,” he said, raising an impressed brow. He pushed off the counter, walking around to stand next to you. “Let me show you some of my favorites, then.” He walked toward the horror section, gesturing for you to follow. “You’ve got your classics like Nightmare on Elm Street and Halloween. Oh, but one of my favorites would have to be Saw. There’s something about the torture and games that just gets me.”

Sam’s hands gestured wildly as he spoke, his excitement evident in his eyes. His heart raced, both from his love of horror and from being so close to you. He searched one of the shelves before deftly flicking one of the cases out and holding it up for you.

“The original Texas Chainsaw Massacre,” he said, presenting it to you. “This one’s something else. Give it a watch. It’ll make your skin crawl.”

You stuffed your hands in your back pockets, shrugging coyly as you stepped closer to him.

“I saw the 25th Anniversary in theaters,” you smirked, beaming proudly.

Sam’s eyes widened and he whistled, impressed.

“Damn, you’re a true horror fan,” he nodded.

He nervously licked his dry lips, trying to think of something to say next.

“So, what do you think? Are you gonna pick up any of these tonight, or should I recommend something else?” Sam asked, his eyes searching your face as he hoped to find interest in his suggestions.

You leaned closer toward him, glancing down at his lips before grinning and reaching around him to grab a movie from the shelf.

Sam’s breath hitched, his eyes flickering down to your lips before following your gaze to the movie you pulled.

You held up a copy of Creep, waving it back and forth.

“Found footage, right?” you winked, turning around to walk back to the counter.

“Found footage, exactly,” he croaked out, releasing a shaky breath. “Good choice.”

He quickly followed after you, going back around the counter to ring you up. His fingers fumbled clumsily on the keyboard as he said, “Your total comes out to $4.50.” He took the money and handed you the bag with the movie inside. “If, uh, if you ever need more recommendations or anything, just let me know. I’ll be around.” He licked his lips, giving you a small smile as he added, “It was nice meeting you.”

You took the bag from him, letting your fingers brush against his as you did. You nodded with a smile and said, “You, too, Sam Monroe.”

You turned around and began walking toward the door, but you stopped short. You shifted back toward him, gazing at him curiously.

You cocked your head and asked, “You wanna get out of here?”

Sam’s eyes widened as his throat went dry. He nodded, vehemently, and said, “Uh, yeah. Sure.” He glanced up at the clock, grinning sheepishly. “We’re technically closed now, anyways.” His grin grew as he stepped away from the counter. “Just give me a second to lock everything up.”

You nodded and walked outside, leaning against the hood of his car as you lit a cigarette. You took a drag and exhaled the smoke into the air, leaning your head back with a sigh.

Sam quickly locked up, the bell above the door jingling as he stepped outside. He caught the sight of you sitting on the hood of his car, cigarette in hand, and thought he must be dreaming.

He walked over, his gaze drawn to your lips as he asked, “You smoke?”

You opened your eyes, gazing up at him as you blew a puff of smoke in his direction.

“No,” you grinned, bringing the cigarette back to your lips to take another drag.

Sam’s lips curved into a grin and he raised a brow as he said, “Liar.”

He reached out, his fingers brushing your face as he took the cigarette from your lips. He brought it to his mouth, taking a long drag before exhaling and handing it back.

“So, what do you want to do?” Sam asked, moving to lean on the hood next to you. “I know a few bars that are still open.”

“Bars are boring, Sam Monroe,” you groaned, dramatically, throwing your head back. You inhaled the smoke again, releasing it in a sigh as you looked up at the full moon. “Why do you think I showed up here tonight?”

Sam chuckled, shaking his head in confusion as he answered, “Because you wanted to rent a horror movie?”

He took another drag from the cigarette, his curious gaze never leaving your face.

“That’s just the surface of it,” you told him, turning your head to face him. “I wanted something that could make me feel alive. I wanted to feel a spike of adrenaline, to get my pulse racing. A horror movie is a quick, easy fix — but a night of spontaneity with a stranger? That’s the ultimate risk to take.”

Sam’s heart thudded in his chest, his mind racing as he stammered, “Y-you want to take a risk with me?” He swallowed, the cigarette forgotten between his fingers. “Where do you want to go?”

His eyes searched yours, trying to gauge your intentions, but the excitement bubbling within him was undeniable.

You grinned, taking the cigarette back from him and drawing in one final breath before putting it out with your foot against the pavement.

“C’mon, Sam Monroe,” you said, grabbing his keys out of his hand and walking to the driver’s side of his car. “I know just the place.”

Sam blinked in a daze as he watched you get into his car. He walked, dumbfounded, to the passenger seat, climbing in as he gazed at you.

“Lead the way,” he said, shrugging as he shook his head with a small laugh.

You flicked on the radio as you pulled out of the parking lot, a low grungy melody playing through the speakers.

“Tell me, Sam Monroe,” you began, reaching over to play with the rings on his fingers, “why do you like horror movies?”

Sam’s breath hitched and he glanced down at his hand. Your fingers felt soft against his skin and he cleared his throat as he glanced back up at the road.

“Horror movies are about more than just gore and jump scares. They’re about the human condition. They’re about fear itself, a primal state, and there’s something so raw and real about that.” He looked over at you a smile tugging at his lips. “The adrenaline, the suspense, the sense of danger…it’s all just an escape for me. A way to feel something real when everything else around me feels so fake.”

“Spoken like a tried and true broody punk,” you grinned, glancing over at him. “I get it, though. Sometimes you’ll do anything just to feel something.”

“I guess so,” he shrugged. “It’s better than feeling nothing, right?” He leaned back in his seat, watching the passing streetlights. “So, what about you? What gets your heart racing?”

“Picking up random strangers from sketchy video stores, obviously,” you joked, trailing your fingers up and down his arm.

Sam smiled, looking away as a blush tinged his cheeks.

“This place you’re taking me to,” he said, glancing back at you, “is it a secret or can I know where we’re going?”

“See for yourself,” you smirked, pulling off the road and parking the car. You turned the lights off and got out, walking around to where Sam stood by the passenger side. “C’mon, this way.”

You grabbed his hand, lacing your fingers through his as you led him through a small trail in the woods. As you walked through the clearing, a grin pulled at your lips at the sight of an old, dark cemetery.

Sam followed, his heart pounding as his eyes darted around the darkness. He swallowed thickly, squeezing your hand a little tighter as he stared up at the rusted gates, warily.

“A cemetery?” Sam questioned, his voice barely above a whisper. He took a deep breath before steeling himself and nodding. “Alright. I’ve never been one to turn down a dare.”

“That’s the spirit,” you grinned, tugging him further inside. You winked at him, pulling him closer to you as you whispered, “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you from the scary ghosts.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Sam smirked, feeling his heart stutter as he was pulled into you. “So, what do we do in a place like this?”

His eyes took in the graves, the headstones, the darkness encompassing you. He couldn’t help the shiver that ran down his spine as he leaned closer to you, seeking comfort.

You pulled out a small flashlight and turned it on, shining it on the headstones. You saw one that called to you and you drug him towards it, reading the engravings.

Sam followed, his eyes drawn to the flashlight beam. When you stopped at the grave, he crouched down to get a better look.

Mary Hester

1934-1976

“What do you think her story was?” you asked Sam, nudging his shoulder.

“Who knows?” Sam shrugged. “Maybe she was a victim of murder. Or maybe she was the killer,” he mused, a grin playing at his lips. He glanced up at you and asked, “Do you believe in ghosts?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you smirked, leaning forward to dust off the stone. “There’s no way that death is just a done deal, especially if you had unresolved dealings left on earth.”

Sam nodded, listening as he picked at some moss stuck in the writing.

“Besides,” you sighed, staring at the engraving, “if my entire life was reduced to a tiny dash between dates, I’d haunt the shit out of this world, too.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” he said, standing up and brushing off his jeans. “I guess we’ll never know until we reach the other side, huh?”

You laughed and shook your head, pulling him off to venture further through the old graves.

As you walked through the cemetery, occasionally stopping to check out the headstones, you kept spouting off different theories and stories of these lives past lived.

Your eyes widened as you saw a fresh pile of dirt near an open hole, and you pulled Sam toward it.

“Holy shit,” you gaped, looking down at the six-foot rectangular hole in the ground. “It’s a freshly dug grave.”

“That’s…that’s morbid,” Sam shivered, leaning closer as his curiosity got the best of him. “Do you think it’s for a new burial?” His grip tightened on your hand and he glanced around, his eyes flickering between the trees and the graves. “We should probably get out of here.”

“What’s wrong? Scared?” you teased, inching closer toward the grave. You shined your flashlight down into it, seeing nothing but dirt. “Relax, there’s nothing in it.”

“I’m not scared,” he scoffed, though his voice shook as he spoke. “I just don’t wanna get caught trespassing.”

He stepped closer, his eyes following yours as you shined the light into the grave. When he saw it was empty, he let out a sigh of relief and loosened his grip on your hand.

“Let’s go before someone sees us,” Sam said, tugging on your arm.

“Live a little, Sam Monroe,” you laughed, squeezing his hand playfully. “We’re not gonna get caught—”

You stopped mid-sentence, seeing the lights on a police car slowly patrolling the cemetery.

“Shit,” you cursed, smiling amusedly. “Spoke too soon, I guess. Hurry, let’s hide.”

You pulled him toward the vacant grave, crouching down before jumping into the hole.

Sam’s eyes widened, his heart racing wildly as he looked between the grave and the police car. He held his breath, squeezing his eyes shut as he jumped into the grave after you. You turned off the flashlight, bathing the two of you in darkness as you pulled him close to hide.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered. “I can’t believe we just did that. Do you think they’ll search the graves?”

“Not a chance,” you laughed, breathlessly, as you felt your adrenaline pumping. You placed your hand on his chest, grinning as you said, “You feel that? Feel how your heart is racing? It’s crazy. The irony of feeling so alive while standing in an open grave.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of exhilarating,” Sam breathed, his bright eyes never leaving yours. “Now what? Do we wait for the coast to be clear, or do we climb out and hope they don’t see us?”

You gazed up at him, biting your lip as you studied his face in the pale blue moonlight. You tugged on his arm, pulling him closer until his body was pressed against yours.

“Tell me, Sam Monroe,” you said, your voice low and playful. “Have you ever kissed someone in a cemetery?”

“Uh, can’t say I have,” he said, swallowing thickly as he released a shaky breath. His gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips as he added, “I guess there’s a first time for everything, right?”

“Right you are, Sam Monroe,” you grinned, gripping the front of his shirt and pulling him down to you.

You pressed your lips against his in a steady, sure kiss, letting one hand trail up to the back of his head.

Sam’s lips met yours eagerly, his heart pounding in his chest. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer to him as the kiss deepened.

He moaned against your lips, the taste of you intoxicating him. He broke the kiss, his breath coming out in heavy pants.

“I think we should climb out of here,” he whispered. “We could get caught down here.”

“That’s half the fun,” you smirked, pushing him back against the wall of dirt and kissing him again.

You moved your hands underneath his shirt, feeling the taught skin of his abdomen as you sucked his bottom lip into your mouth.

Sam groaned, his lips parting as his mind grew hazy with lust. He didn’t protest any further, his body arching into your touch as he kissed you, hungrily.

You moved your hands up to his chest, kissing across his jaw. You nipped at his earlobe before trailing open-mouth kisses down his neck.

“What do you say, Sam Monroe?” you breathed, trailing your tongue along his pulse point. “Wanna defile a grave?”

Sam’s breath hitched and he bit his lip, gripping your hips tighter. He tilted his head back as you kissed his neck, breathing out a soft moan.

“I…I’ll defile a grave for you,” he nodded, swallowing thickly.

His body was trembling with adrenaline and desire. He wanted nothing more than for you to keep touching him, the fear of being caught a distant thought.

“Good,” you grinned, leaning forward to kiss him again.

You let your tongue push past his lips, exploring his mouth as a soft moan sounded from your throat. You pulled him away from the wall of dirt, turning the two of you around so that you were the one pressed against it.

Sam’s moan echoed your own as his hand roamed over your body, his tongue tangling with yours. He stumbled back, allowing you to turn the both of you around, his body following your lead.

“Kinda poetic, isn’t it?” you panted, breaking the kiss to look up at him. “Performing a ritual of fertilization in the place where the dead will be laid to rest?”

“I’m all for some poetic justice tonight,” he breathed, leaning in to claim your lips again.

You could feel your heart pumping as you kissed him, fueling that need for something to make you feel alive.

You bit down on his bottom lip, soothing it with your tongue as you slid your hand down over his jeans to cup his erection.

Sam gasped against your lips, a needy groan sounding from his throat as he pressed his hips into your hand.

You reached down and undid the button of his jeans, lowering the zipper and pushing the material down his thighs. You pulled him out of his boxers, slowly stroking him as you grinned at his impressive size.

Sam whimpered as he felt your soft hand wrap around him, his eyes fluttering shut as he leaned his forehead against yours.

“Oh…” he moaned, dragging his teeth over his piercing as he looked at you with hooded eyes. “I need you.”

“Yeah?” you breathed, squeezing your fist around him as you stroked him faster. You swiped your thumb across his sensitive tip to gather the precum that had beaded there, causing him to hiss.

Sam’s hips bucked into your touch, his body trembling with desire. He gripped your hair, his head spinning with pleasure as he whispered, “Fuck, yes. Please.”

You used your free hand to guide his fingers to the button of your jeans, smirking at him as you continued to touch him. You leaned forward and kissed his neck again, sucking a sensitive spot until it left a deep purple mark against his pale skin.

His fingers fumbled with your jeans as you sucked on his neck, a groan escaping his lips as he tried to undress you.

“Touch me, Sam,” you panted, squeezing him tighter as you let your tongue trail up his neck, stopping to kiss the spot just beneath his ear.

“Anything for you,” he breathed, reaching his hand inside of your underwear to touch you. He moaned as his fingers made contact with your slick folds, brushing his lips against your ear as he whispered, “You’re so wet, fuck.”

You let out a soft moan into his ear, arching into his touch as he teased you. You grabbed his face and turned him back to you, kissing him with fervor as you stroked him.

“I guess cemeteries really do it for me,” you joked, laughing into the kiss.

“Mm, definitely,” he groaned, his hips bucking into your fist.

His fingers slid inside of you as his thumb stroked your clit, his free hand grabbing your leg and hiking it around his waist.

You whimpered, quietly, against his lips — his fingers striking all of the right chords. You used one hand to tug on his hair while the other moved faster over his length.

Sam moaned loudly, his breath hitching as his hips stuttered.

“Shh,” you grinned, looking up at him with a playful glint in your eyes. “You’ll wake the dead.”

“I don’t care about the dead right now,” he breathed, leaning in to kiss your neck as he curled his fingers inside of you.

You tilted your head back, moaning as you rocked your hips against his fingers. You held his head as you stroked him, twisting your fist over his tip each time.

Sam’s eyes rolled back as he moved his fingers faster, repeatedly brushing against that perfect spot inside of you. He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he whispered, “I’m close. I’m so fucking close.”

“Me too,” you whimpered, feeling that knot tightening in the pit of your stomach. The adrenaline was coursing through your veins, your heart racing as you chased the edge together. “Come with me. Let’s make these souls roll in their graves.”

“Fuck, yes, I’m right there,” he panted, moaning against you as he neared the precipice. He flicked his thumb in fast circles against your clit, his voice breaking off into a string of whimpers as his hips bucked. “I’m gonna…fuck.”

You pulled his head back, looking into his eyes as the band finally snapped. You clenched around his fingers just as his release spurted out of him and onto your hand. He voiced a strangled moan as he came, working you through your own high as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you.

You both milked every last drop from each other, your bodies sagging together as you came down.

Sam leaned against you, panting heavily as he rested his forehead against yours. You leaned back against the wall of dirt, grinning lazily as you said, “Well, that was a much better method of getting my heart racing.”

He trailed small kisses up your neck before kissing your lips softly as he whispered, “I’m glad I could make your heart race.”

You smirked up at him, bringing your hand up to your mouth to lick his release off of it. He watched with lust-blown eyes, biting his lip. You grabbed his hand, pulling his fingers out of you and bringing them up to your lips as well. You opened your mouth, sucking around them and moaning at the taste.

You pulled him into another kiss, letting him taste your combined flavor on your tongue. He groaned into your mouth, pulling you close to him.

You broke the kiss, glancing up out of the grave.

“I think the cops are gone now,” you giggled, kissing the tip of his nose.

“Good,” he grinned, laughing softly. “Let’s get out of here.”

He gave you a boost before climbing out as well, the both of you brushing the dirt off and adjusting your clothes. You walked back through the trail in the woods hand in hand, strolling peacefully in the moonlight.

When you got back to his car, you tossed him his keys back with a grin and got into the passenger side. He laced his fingers with yours as he drove back toward the video store, occasionally bringing the back of your hand up to his lips.

“This has got to be the strangest night I’ve ever had,” he laughed, softly.

“You’ll never forget it, though, will you?” you grinned, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

Sam shook his head, smiling as he said, “Never.”

He pulled back into the parking lot of the store, dimly lit by the flickering sign. He parked the car, turning toward you with a tender look.

You leaned forward and softly whispered, “Thanks for making me feel alive, Sam Monroe.”

His eyes fluttered shut as he felt your lips press against his.

“Anytime,” he whispered. “Can I get your name—?”

He opened his eyes, but you were no longer there. He glanced around, frantically, trying to see where you could’ve gone.

It was only then that he realized that his car had been the only one in the parking lot the entire night.

[ceoofsammonroe]

Web of Lies - Stephen Glass Smut

Summary: You and Stephen are coworkers and he’s always harbored a secret crush on you. When he finally works up the courage to ask you to hang out with him, he’s elated that you agree. However, after an innocent night of company, you return to the office the next day to find your name as the hot topic of gossip. When you confront Stephen about the matter, he finds himself trapped in a web of his own lies.

Warnings: dacryphilia (he’s so pretty when he cries, i can’t help it), voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation (Stephen receiving), dub-con (kind of? not really, but tagging it just in case), sub!Stephen, nipple play, manipulation, angst, lying, teasing, edging, denial, begging, humiliation, degradation, stephen whines and whimpers a lot because obviously.

Masterlist

The soft material of Stephen’s socks padded quietly across the floor as he made his way into the break room at The New Republic.

He stood by the door, watching with a small smile as you angrily hit the drink machine. He laughed to himself as you huffed, the frustration clear on your face.

This was something he did often. He observed you from a distance. The two of you had never spoken beyond the occasional greeting when your paths would cross in the office or a brief congratulations from you when a piece of his did exceptionally well.

Those were his favorite times. Watching you react to his stories. He’d ride the elation for hours when your lips would turn up in a smile during one of his pitches. He found himself tuning in to what made you laugh, what piqued your interest, warping his tales to accommodate.

He could do an entire write up on you by now if he was ever asked to. He’d studied you, down to every little detail. He knew what made you laugh and what pissed you off. He knew how you took your coffee and what pastries you’d swipe from the bakery you passed by every morning. He knew how you’d worry your bottom lip when you were deep in thought — that was a personal favorite of his. You’d become an obsession of sorts.

He had found his rhythm, watching your life from the outside. He was content that way. Which was why he was surprised to find himself walking up to you now.

“This machine never works,” he said, startling you as he appeared behind you. He grinned, sheepishly, ducking his head. “Sorry, it’s just that this machine gets stuck more than it doesn’t. Besides, the drinks inside of it are all flat anyways. There’s a better one on the third floor of the building. Works every time, honest.”

“Oh, thanks for the tip,” you laughed, embarrassed that you’d been caught fighting with an inanimate object.

“I was actually coming in here to put a note on the machine before leaving for lunch,” he lied, scratching the back of his neck. “There’s this little cafe a few blocks over that’s just to die for.”

“Are you talking about the one on 3rd Ave?” Stephen nodded, watching your face light up. “That’s one of my favorites!”

Stephen already knew that, of course. He’d watched you accumulate new takeout menus every time you’d go there for breakfast or lunch. He was willing to bet that you had upwards of twenty by now in your desk drawer. Still, he raised his eyebrows like this was the first he’d known of this information.

“Really?” Stephen asked, shoving his hands into his pockets as he shrugged. “Well, if you wanted, I wouldn’t mind the company.”

You eyed the blond curiously. His glasses were perched high on his nose and his cheeks were illuminated with an ever present blush. He had an adorable, naive quality about him. Sure, it was clear to you that most of his stories were more fiction than fact, but who amongst you didn’t embellish every now and then?

You were intrigued by him, by the way his mind worked. He seemed to be nervously awaiting your answer, so you eased his fears with a gentle smile.

“I’d love to,” you told him, giggling at the way his eyes widened before he broke out into a breathtaking smile.

There was certainly a reason why he had the majority of the office wrapped around his finger. He was charming and incredibly easy on the eyes. He was observant, noticing things other people wouldn’t.

Maybe that was why, despite the controversy of his recent article, he didn’t seem to be catching too much heat.

“I’ll grab my things and we can walk there together,” Stephen told you, giving you a shy grin. “I’ll meet you by the front.”

You nodded, noticing the way some of your coworkers were observing your interaction. You brushed it off as typical office nosiness, waiting for Stephen to return.

As the two of you walked through the city, Stephen couldn't help but chat about mundane things: the weather, the noise of the city, your favorite books. He felt an unusual warmth in his chest, enjoying your conversation and company.

You couldn’t help but find his nervous rambling endearing, fascinated by the way he turned everything into a story.

Once you arrived at the quaint little cafe, he led you to a table by the window with a gentle smile.

“This is the best spot to sit,” you said, beaming as you looked out the large window. “You can watch all the people go by.”

He admired you, feeling his chest swell with pride that he had made a good choice.

You continued chatting about various topics, from your hobbies to your favorite TV shows. Stephen found himself opening up more than usual with you — something about you made him feel at ease and encouraged him to share pieces of himself.

By the end of the lunch hour, you had made your way back to the looming office building. You both stopped before returning inside, Stephen turning to look at you with a small smile.

“Thanks for the company,” he said, that familiar blush tinting his cheeks. “It meant more than you know.”

“Of course, Stephen,” you smiled. “Anytime.”

He watched you turn to walk back into the building, reaching out to stop you before he realized what he was doing. He felt a spike of anxiety shoot through his stomach as you turned around to look at him expectantly.

“Would you maybe wanna come over after work?” Stephen asked, breathing heavily. “I have Monopoly, if you like that sort of thing. I also have some left over danishes from that bakery down the street that I simply can’t finish all by myself.”

He watched your ears perk up at the mention of the pastries you’d stop to get before work some mornings. Hope brimmed in his chest as you contemplated his offer.

You couldn’t deny the intrigue. You’d enjoyed his company during lunch, and wouldn’t mind spending more time with him.

“Can I play as the top hat?” you smirked, laughing as his face lit up.

Stephen felt a wave of relief wash over him as he responded, “Consider it yours.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it,” you said, genuinely, before returning back to the office.

Stephen watched you walk off, his smile refusing to leave his face. As you parted ways, he couldn't shake off the feeling of butterflies in his stomach. Each step felt lighter, as if he was walking on clouds.

The upcoming game night weighed heavily on his mind throughout the day. Every time he caught himself daydreaming about it, he'd snap back to reality and focus on his work. Yet, the excitement lingered, making the hours drag by slowly.

When evening finally came, he rushed home to prepare everything for your meeting. He wanted everything to be perfect — from setting up the game board to arranging the pastries he’d stopped to pick up after work.

You followed the address Stephen had sent you, showing up to his apartment. You couldn’t deny that you were excited to spend more time with him. He fascinated you in more ways than one. There was the obvious about his stories, yes, but there was also the way he seemed to melt when he looked at you.

You knocked gently on his door, waiting for his response.

Stephen stood at the entrance of his apartment, his heart pounding loudly in his chest. He had cleaned and prepared everything meticulously, ensuring every detail was just right. As he opened the door, he found his hands trembling.

"Hey," he greeted softly, gesturing for you to enter. The sight of you took his breath away, and he couldn't help but blush under your gaze.

He showed you to the living room, where the Monopoly board lay spread out on the table. Next to it was an array of pastries and a fresh pot of coffee.

"Please, sit wherever you'd like," he said shyly, already feeling self-conscious.

“You’ve got the whole spread, huh?” you asked with an impressed smile, sitting down on his couch.

Your cheeks warmed with a blush of their own when you noticed he’d laid out the exact amount of creamer and sugar that you usually used.

Stephen chuckled softly, glancing around his apartment nervously. "Just trying to make it special," he explained, sitting across from you with the Monopoly board between you.

He poured you both a cup of coffee, watching as you observed your surroundings.

As you began playing, Stephen found himself getting lost in the fun, enjoying the sound of your laughter and the occasional touch of your hand while passing money or property cards. Every interaction sent electric shocks through him, leaving him spellbound.

You had genuinely enjoyed the game night. Both of you winning your fair share of rounds. He knew how to reel people in, that was for sure.

Eventually, you’d consumed all of the coffee and sweets that you could handle and had just bought out the last property on the board.

“There,” you said, triumphantly, winning again. “That makes three for me.”

Stephen couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment at losing once again, but instead of sulking, he smiled widely, clapping for you.

"Impressive! Congrats," he said, sincerely. He noticed the time on his wall clock, realizing how late it had become. "Want to order some pizza before calling it a night?" he proposed, hoping to extend your time together.

Despite the losses, he cherished every moment spent with you. Your presence brought him a comfort and joy that he hadn't experienced in years.

You also weren’t in any rush to end the night, enjoying the time you were spending with him.

“I like pizza,” you smiled.

Stephen grinned, elated that you’d agreed.

“Fantastic,” he said, grabbing his phone to order the pizza. “It’ll be the best pizza you’ve ever had, honest.”

While waiting for the food to arrive, he engaged you in conversation — asking about your interests and hobbies.

When the doorbell rang, he quickly answered, accepting the piping hot pizza box. As you both sat down to eat, he felt grateful for this rare glimpse of a normal evening.

You were both laughing, talking about 80s music when you finished the last of the pizza.

“Really, Stephen? Like a Virgin is your favorite 80s song?” you asked, trying to catch your breath from your fit of giggles.

Stephen chuckled, shaking his head. "Guilty as charged," he admitted, sheepishly. "What can I say? It reminds me of being a teenager."

“I don’t know whether that’s hilarious or extremely sad,” you laughed, wiping your eyes.

“Yeah, me either,” he shrugged, grinning at you.

He glanced at the clock, realizing how late it had become. "I suppose we should call it a night," he said reluctantly, standing up.

Your eyes widened as you saw the time. It was nearly midnight. You’d been so lost in the night that you hadn’t even realized how much time had passed.

“Yeah, I suppose we should,” you agreed, standing up as well. “We won’t be very useful at work if we’re walking around half asleep.”

He smiled at your comment as he walked you to the door. He found himself wanting to kiss you, willing his eyes to stay away from your lips. Instead, he extended a polite handshake.

“Thanks for coming over,” he murmured, nervously. “I had a great time.”

You liked this version of him. The sweet, shy Stephen who didn’t feel the need to rely on stories of grandeur to captivate his audience. This version, the real version, you felt yourself falling for.

“Thank you for having me, Stephen,” you said, taking his hand gently. “I had a lovely time.”

Stephen watched you leave, feeling a mix of excitement and sadness. He waved until you disappeared from view, then returned inside his apartment.

The guilt weighed heavily on his shoulders as he sat alone in silence, staring at the Monopoly board left scattered on the coffee table.

The next day, when you arrived at the office, you noticed some of your co-workers giving you odd looks. You ignored it at first, unlocking your office and going about your morning.

You had honestly expected Stephen to greet you, but he was strangely nowhere to be found. He’d been so eager to spend time together yesterday…

You tried to ignore the twist of disappointment in your stomach as you went about your morning.

Later, when you left your office to grab some papers, you noticed the strange looks again. This time, they were accompanied by hushed whispers and giggles. You looked around, skeptically, continuing on with your task.

It wasn’t until you were walking back to your office that you managed to hear a bit of what two women were saying.

“Can you believe it? He said she used handcuffs on him,” one of the women whispered, eyeing you up and down.

“She seems so reserved… I guess you never know when someone’s a freak in the sheets,” the other responded in hushed giggles.

You stopped dead in your tracks, trying to hear more of what they were saying.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say no to fucking Steve either, but I didn’t think she could be so…animalistic.”

Anger burned underneath your skin as you clutched the papers so tightly that they had all wrinkled. Your breathing was labored as you walked over to Stephen’s cubicle.

“Can I talk to you in my office, Stephen?” you asked, sharply.

Stephen looked up from his desk, startled by your sudden appearance. He swallowed hard, noting the anger simmering in your eyes. "Of course," he replied, following you to your office.

Once inside, he closed the door behind him, waiting for you to speak. "Is everything okay?" he inquired cautiously, his heart pounding in his chest.

You leaned against your desk in front of a chair where Stephen moved to sit, crossing your arms.

“No, Stephen, everything is not okay,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him.

He was nervous. Fidgeting in his seat, refusing to make direct eye contact with you for longer than a second. All signs that he was feeling anxious about something — or guilty.

He shrunk in on himself, his tongue darting out to lick his lips that had gone dry the minute you walked into his office as he asked, “Are you mad at me?”

“Mad?!” you questioned back, fuming as his eyes stayed glued to the floor. “Care to tell me why the entire office is gossiping about some story of the rough, passionate sex we supposedly had?”

"It was...a misunderstanding," he stuttered, his voice barely audible, panic etched into his features. "They thought we had an affair, which isn't true."

“Yeah, I know it’s not true Stephen,” you scoffed, “but why do they think that it is?”

“You know how office gossip spreads,” he shrugged, his right knee bouncing as he pushed up his glasses. “Someone starts a story and everyone latches onto it like a bunch of leaches until they’re so full of shit that they drop it and move on.”

Your jaw ticked as you asked, “How would they even know to start this kind of story?”

“I don’t know!” Stephen defended, furrowing his eyebrows as his nostrils flared. “People are animals. Believe me, I’m just as upset as you are by all of this.”

He was scrambling, trying to play off innocent like he always did. Normally, you’d write it off. Even finding it somewhat endearing on most occasions. This time, however, it only fueled your anger.

“Did someone make up the story as petty office gossip or did you make it up so that the office would talk about something other than you completely making up Hack Heaven?” you asked, matter-of-factly. You saw the shock in his features, the readiness to deny, so you added, “Yeah, I know you made up that article and god only knows how many more. There’s no point in lying to me.”

Stephen stared at you in disbelief, shaken by your revelation. "How...how did you…?" he stuttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Please, Stephen, you’re a tremendous writer but a terrible liar. I saw through your stories the moment I met you,” you said, a certain bite to your words. “What I didn’t expect was to become the center of one of your fictitious escapades.”

He could feel his world crumbling. All of his lies had caught up to him, and worse, he had involved you in it. "I...I didn't mean for any of this to happen," he stammered, rubbing his temples.

Stephen winced, feeling his face heat up. He stared at his shoes, unable to meet your gaze. "I'm so sorry," he muttered, genuinely remorseful. "I never meant to drag you into this mess."

He took a deep breath, mustering the courage to speak the truth. "I made up stories because I wanted to succeed. I craved recognition and believed that's what it took." His voice cracked as he continued. "Seeing how much it's hurt you...I wish I could take it all back."

The weight of his actions bore down on him, realizing the consequences. There were no more webs to spin, no more excuses to give. He’d been caught in the worst way possible.

You looked at him for a moment, studying the way he sunk in on himself and the water rising in his eyes. You didn’t know whether you could believe his regret or not, though a small piece of you wanted to.

“Tell me the story, then,” you said, uncrossing your arms. When you saw Stephen’s confusion, you continued. “You seemed to have such a riveting tale of our affair, so let me hear it. Tell me what you told them I supposedly did to you.”

“W-what?” Stephen sputtered, eyes wide as he glanced at you. “But…I…”

He waited, desperately hoping you’d back down, but he could see the fierce determination in your eyes. His face flamed as he took a shaky breath.

“I…I told them all kinds of details and descriptions,” he whispered, nervously. “I’m really sorry.”

“Tell me the details and descriptions, Stephen,” you said, sternly. “You didn’t have a problem telling them, so tell me.”

Stephen sighed, shakily, closing his eyes for a moment before recounting the fabricated encounter.

"I told them you were—”

“Look at me, Stephen,” you snapped, interrupting him.

His breath hitched as his eyes snapped up to meet yours. His skin burned hot. It was already bad enough having to tell you all of this, but it was even worse having to look at you while he did it. He released a shaky breath, beginning again.

"I told them you were aggressive and dominant in bed," he started, his voice barely audible. He winced, ashamed of his imagination. “Please, forgive me.”

“Start from the beginning,” you told him with a glare. “How did you tell them it started?”

Stephen swallowed hard, feeling nauseous as he recalled his lies. "I said we started chatting about music, after playing Monopoly," he began hesitantly. "Then, I said that you suggested we continue the night doing…something else."

He paused, unsure if he should continue. "I said you initiated it, that you wanted me in ways I'd never imagined," he murmured. "I painted a picture of desire and lust, claiming you were the one taking charge."

Stephen felt sick, realizing how much damage he'd caused — not only to his relationship with you, but also to your reputation.

You didn’t miss the brief flash of desire in his eyes as he recounted the beginning of this tale he’d spun, even if it was quickly replaced by guilt and anxiousness.

You crossed one leg over the other, leaning back onto the desk more.

“So, in this story, you made it sound like I was all over you?” you clarified, your anger ticking. “What did you say happened next?”

"Yes, I...I made it seem like you pursued me," he admitted, his voice barely audible. "I described your actions in explicit detail."

He hesitated, feeling uncomfortable talking about it. "I mentioned the way you touched me, and your voice...” He took a breath, fidgeting. “I said that you led me into my bedroom a-and that you…undressed me. I told them that you had…uh…that you had handcuffs. I made it sound like you were very aggressive."

Seeing your anger, he felt a pang of guilt. "I'm sorry. Please, understand that I never meant to hurt you."

You noticed him shifting uncomfortably, covering his lap with his hands as he spoke. Why was he trying to cover his lap? Was he getting turned on by this? Did he want to hide his arousal? Without wavering your stoic face, you said, “Put your arms by your sides, Stephen.”

Stephen's eyes widened slightly at your command but he obeyed without question. He put his arms by his sides, his face flush. "I'm sorry," he repeated, his voice barely audible.

He could feel his heart racing, partly due to the embarrassment of his reaction and partly due to the regret of his actions.

As he held his arms at his sides, you noticed the unmistakable tent forming in his pants.

“Keep going,” you said, cocking your head. “How did you tell them I used the handcuffs?”

Stephen's face turned bright red, mortified by your observation. He gulped, struggling to maintain eye contact. "I...I said you handcuffed me to the bedpost and...um…took control," he stammered, his voice breaking.

“Was this some sort of weird fantasy you’d had all along, or did it just fly off your tongue like all the other stories you tell?” you asked, harshly.

Stephen's eyes widened in surprise, but he didn't deny it.

"I...I won't deny that it was partially a fantasy," he admitted, his voice a whisper, "but I never intended for it to become reality or cause you any harm."

He could feel the weight of his words, realizing the magnitude of his actions. "I'm so sorry. I was wrong, and I will do whatever it takes to make it right."

“Is that why you’re getting hard just talking about it?” you laughed, bitterly, glancing at the growing erection.

Stephen's face was crimson, his embarrassment palpable. He couldn't look at you, averting his eyes instead. "I don't...I don't know," he mumbled.

He knew he'd crossed a line, and he was desperate to fix it. "Please, I'm so sorry. I'll do anything to make it right. Just give me a chance."

“Anything?” you asked, raising a brow at him. The sunlight from the open blinds lit up his scarlet cheeks, accentuating the blue in his eyes. “Unbutton your shirt.”

Stephen froze, his eyes wide with shock. He glanced at the open blinds, then back at you. Despite his reluctance, he slowly took off his tie and started unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his pale chest.

You didn’t move from your position as your eyes trailed down the exposed skin of his torso, stopping back at the growing erection in his pants.

“Now, undo your pants,” you instructed, crossing your arms.

Stephen gulped, sweat breaking out on his forehead as he slowly started to remove his belt and unbutton his pants. He hesitated, his hands shaking, but he knew he had to follow your instructions.

As his zipper lowered, the erection became more apparent, straining against his boxers. He tried to keep his eyes on your face, but the embarrassment was overwhelming.

The bright redness that burned his face had now also began flushing his chest. You stopped yourself from smirking at the sight.

“Well, go on…” you told him. “Push them the rest of the way down.”

Stephen hesitated, his hands trembling as he gripped his pants. He took a deep breath, knowing there was no turning back. With a shaky hand, he pushed his pants down to his ankles.

He sat there, utterly exposed and humiliated, waiting for your next command. His heart pounded in his chest, a mix of fear and shame coursing through him.

You stared at his sizable erection, straining against the boxers he wore.

“Boxers, too,” you said, cocking your head.

Stephen's face was beet red, but he complied, slowly pulling down his boxers. His erection sprang free, standing rigid and exposed.

He felt vulnerable and humiliated, but at the same time, he couldn't help but be aroused. He waited for your reaction, expecting your anger to be unbearable.

Your eyes widened slightly at the size of him, springing free from its confine. The sunlight caught him deliciously and you couldn’t deny the stir in your stomach.

“Look at you,” you laughed, “this worked up from your own imagination. You’re practically leaking everywhere.”

He felt his entire body flush at your attention, feeling the pre-cum dripping down his shaft. He felt like he was drowning in his own desire and lies.

“Yes, I'm...I'm sorry,” he murmured, his voice hoarse.

“It looks awfully painful,” you said, still studying him. “All red and aching…”

You stood up straighter, standing tall over where he was sat in the chair. If he wanted you to take control, then that’s what he was going to get.

“You’re going to finish telling me the story that you told them, recounting every twisted detail you dreamed up, and you’re going to fuck yourself in front of me while you do it.”

Stephen's eyes widened in shock, but he didn't argue. "Yes, ma'am," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart. The combination of his arousal and your command left him breathless.

He reached for his erection, feeling the heat and wetness pulsating in his veins. Hesitantly, he began to stroke himself, his mind flooded with the details of his fantasy.

He hoped this would show you his remorse, that this would be his way to beg you for forgiveness.

“What did you tell them happened after I handcuffed you, Stephen?” you asked, watching as he fisted his dick.

Stephen's grip tightened on his erection, his breathing becoming ragged. "I...I said you took control, touching me slowly...and teasing me." He groaned softly, his body responding to his thoughts. His actions mirrored his words as he absentmindedly teased himself, adding to the intensity of the current situation.

You locked eyes with him, seeing how his pupils dilated as you asked, “How did I tease you?”

Stephen's fingers danced faster, his breaths growing ragged. "I, uh, said you played with my nipples, tracing them with your fingers." He moaned softly, his eyes fluttering closed. "Then, I said you kissed me...all over." He gasped, his body arching slightly.

His mind was consumed by both your questions and his arousal, making it harder to separate fantasy from reality.

“Did I make you beg for it, Stephen?” you asked, your voice growing husky. You were relishing in the way he was falling apart, so submissive and eager.

Stephen's eyes snapped open at your question, his body trembling. "Yes," he gasped, his fist moving faster. "I said you made me beg for it, for relief and your touch."

His breathing became erratic, every thrust of his hand mirroring the intensity of his thoughts. "I begged for you, begged for everything you were doing to me."

He could barely focus on the task at hand, his arousal and fantasies clouding his mind.

“Tell me what you said I did to you after you begged for it,” you told him. You saw the way he was quickly losing himself and added, “and don’t you dare thinking about coming before I tell you to.”

Stephen's breath hitched, his grip tightening on his erection as a whimper escaped his lips. "I...I said you took me, forcefully and passionately," he panted, his body trembling.

He could feel the edge, the pleasure threatening to overtake him, but he forced himself to slow down, obeying your command.

His eyes locked on yours, desperation evident in his gaze. "Please, I need...I need to come."

“Is that what you dreamed of saying to me in this fantasy of yours?” you asked, leaning a bit closer. “Did you beg me to let you come while I was passionately taking you?”

Stephen's heart raced, his mind whirling. "Yes," he breathed. "I...I begged for release, for you to let me come."

He could feel the pressure building, the pleasure and humiliation overwhelming him. "Please,” he whined, “please let me finish this."

His eyes pleaded with you, hoping you would grant him the release he craved.

“Not yet,” you said, coldly.

His skin was flushed with arousal and embarrassment, sweat was beading on his brow, and his eyes were blown with lust. You enjoyed his desperation, deciding to push it further.

“What do you think would happen if someone looked through the window and saw you right now, Stephen?” you taunted, tilting your head towards the open blinds letting in the sunlight. “Or what if one of our coworkers walked right in to my office? What if they saw you, desperate and begging, just like your little stories?”

You glanced over at your closed office door and said, “Come to think of it, I don’t remember locking the door.”

Stephen's eyes widened, panic rising in his chest. "Oh god," he gasped, his grip tightening on his erection.

He could feel the orgasm building, the pleasure and humiliation threatening to consume him. His eyes darted to the door, the possibility of exposure sending chills down his spine.

He knew he was at your mercy, desperate for release and terrified of what might happen. "Please, I can't...I can't take this anymore."

You walked over, placing your hands on each of the armrests and leaning over him — giving him a delectable view of your cleavage beneath your shirt.

“What’s stopping me from opening that door right now and letting them all see you, hm?” you taunted. “You were so keen to describe the details of this fantasy, why not let them witness it for themselves.”

Stephen's heart pounded in his chest, his body trembling. "No," he whimpered, his gaze locked on your cleavage. "Please, don't do that. I...I can't handle it."

“What’s wrong, Stevie?” you taunted. “You made up this story in the first place to take their eyes off of your fabricated articles. I think this would certainly do the trick. Nobody would be thinking about Hack Heaven if they saw you like this — exposed, desperate, needy, fucking yourself as you beg for my mercy. I think this is a front page picture.”

Stephen's eyes widened, panic rising in his chest. He glanced at the door again, the possibility of exposure weighing heavily on him.

"Please, I can't... I can't have them see me like this," he pleaded in that whiny voice of his, tears in his eyes.

His grip tightened, his body shaking as he fought against the impending orgasm. He needed you to decide, to put an end to his torment.

“Yet you’re gripping your dick that much harder,” you noted with a smirk. “Does the thought turn you on, Stevie? Being seen like this? Being exposed?”

Stephen's breath hitched, his eyes locked on yours. He nodded, slowly, tears streaming down his face. "Still…I don't want them to see me like this. I'm begging you."

His hand didn't stop, his body betraying him as the pleasure built. He felt trapped, his desires conflicting with his fear of exposure.

“You look so pretty like this, though,” you teased, grazing your nails lightly across his nipples. “I’m sure they’d love to see their favorite coworker so compromised.”

Stephen gasped, thrusting his hips up off of the chair. "Please," he whined, stroking himself faster.

You kept teasing his sensitive nipples with your nails, loving to see how wrecked he was. The anger you had felt had morphed into desire as you watched him falling apart in front of you.

“You’re just so close,” you cooed, taunting him, “aren’t you?”

"Yes," he whimpered, his eyes locked onto yours. "I'm...I'm so close."

He could feel the orgasm building, the pleasure and humiliation overwhelming him. Your touch sent shivers down his spine, his body betraying him once again.

“Beg me to let you come, Stevie,” you told him, mercilessly circling the hardened buds on his chest.

"Please," he gasped, his voice trembling. "Let me come, please."

He could feel the climax approaching, his body tensing. He needed your permission, your approval.

You backed away from him, becoming his audience.

“Come for me, Stephen,” you commanded, watching him intently.

Stephen's eyes widened, relief washing over him. "Thank you," he whimpered, his grip tightening as he chased his peak.

When he finally let himself fall over the edge, his eyes rolled back, his body jerking as the orgasm hit him. He came hard, whimpering your name and arching off of the seat as he bit down on his bottom lip to muffle his whines.

He slumped forward, panting heavily, his emotions a chaotic mix of gratitude and humiliation.

He looked utterly disheveled. His clothes hanging off of him, his skin flushed, his hair a mess, his glasses fogged. He looked delectable.

You handed him a box of tissues and said, “Clean yourself up and put your clothes back on.”

Stephen's breaths were heavy, his body still trembling as the afterglow settled in. He took the tissues gratefully, cleaning himself up.

He quickly straightened his clothes, his movements shaky. He felt vulnerable and exposed, but also strangely liberated.

As he stood up, he met your gaze, a mix of gratitude, embarrassment, and desire in his eyes. "Thank you," he murmured.

You crossed your arms, standing in front of him after he’d somewhat composed himself.

“Never ever lie about me again,” you told him.

Stephen's heart raced, his eyes locked on yours. "I won't," he promised, his voice quiet but firm. "I'm sorry for everything."

He knew he'd made a mistake, and he wasn't going to repeat it. He wanted your forgiveness, to start anew and make things right.

Despite the harshness in your tone, he couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over him.

You nodded, sighing as you uncrossed your arms.

“Well, I didn’t have handcuffs on me, but at least now your story has some credibility,” you joked, letting up on the sternness.

Stephen managed a weak smile, the blush still tinting his cheeks. "That it does," he replied, trying to lighten the mood.

He could feel the tension easing, the weight of his lies lifting from his shoulders. He knew he still had a long way to go, but this was a step in the right direction.

He hoped you could move past this, build something stronger and more honest.

You didn’t think he was malicious, just insecure and unsure of how to create his true identity. It was somehow still endearing.

You grabbed his face, gently pressing a kiss to his lips.

Stephen's breath hitched, his heart racing as he eagerly returned the kiss, melting into you with a soft whimper.

He felt a mix of relief, gratitude, and desire. You had given him a chance, and he intended to prove himself worthy.

As you pulled away, he met your gaze, his eyes filled with sincerity. "Thank you," he whispered.

You glanced at the office door and then back at him, his adorable face flushed.

“If they ask what happened, for once in your life just keep your mouth shut,” you giggled, softly.

Stephen chuckled, his cheeks flushing even more. "I will," he promised, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

He knew he had to learn from this experience, to be honest and true to himself. He wanted to earn your trust and respect.

As he looked at you, he realized that, despite the chaos, something had changed between you. You had shared something intimate, and he felt grateful.