Tumgik
#I get requested a lot I got offered a job there actual but I can’t work for my agency for 3 months before they hire me it’s in the contract
scottishstoner · 2 years
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I’ve been working all week like 7-2 or 8-3 at the Hilton hotel restaurant and I enjoy it but I must’ve been exhausted coz I passed out on my couch at 5pm and woke up at 11pm 💀 lol I have to be awake again tomorrow for my shift at 7-2, my niece has began working with me…shes 16 and her second shift there from a week or 2 ago and she’s nervous again bless. ✨ she’ll be fine I work there all the time lol and she has me, she got nervous coz last breakfast shift (afternoon wasn’t as bad mostly just setting tables for later or polishing cutlery etc) it got very very busy but it’s not always like that so she got flung in the deep end her first shift lol. Anyway I hope I can sleep soon bc I have to leave at 6:15am to get into town for just before 7 to clock in lol it’s now 12:45am 💀
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starstruckgrrl · 11 months
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♡﹒"make me behave like an animal !! " ~ tamaki amajiki
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┆︎ ☆ synopsis: tamaki was never really known for confidence, so his love life was barren compared to all the other big shot heroes. so when you come along, he's addicted. ₊˚๑ warnings: virgin fetish, smut, sub!tamaki, overstimulation, dacryphilia, loss of virginity, dom!reader, afab reader, reader is wearing a skirt, praise fetish, oral (m receiving), consent is sexy. cum swallowing, a whole lot basically a/n: pls request sum stuff!! i looveee to write for y'all >;3
tamaki is dressed up in a suit that is tailored perfectly to him, showing off the toned body he's spent years creating. he doesn't feel good though, as he just left the bi-annual ranking ceremony of the top heroes. those things always make him anxious. reporters sticking microphones in his face, expectations placed upon him... even thinking back to what he said makes him want to curl up into a ball. now, he's sitting in a little ... coffee shop? bar? he doesn't know what it actually is, but he's got privacy in his booth and that's all he needs right now. until you walk over to him, outfitted in your waitress uniform your boss required of you to work there. the hem of the dress barely covered the plush of your thighs, and tamaki caught himself gawking for a moment before he turned away, flushed. you stop in front of his table and flash him a smile, setting his green tea down. he nervously smiles back and thanks you, and you straighten up and saunter away, almost teasingly.
it takes him a moment to recover as drinks his tea and takes deep breaths to calm down from that, and the anxiety-inducing day he's had in general. he can’t focus on anything that happened earlier in his day though, still thinking about the pretty smile you gave him and the way your legs moved as you walked away from him. a whole lot of murmuring to himself and semi-perverted thoughts later, he’s ready to pay and head home to rest.
it’s just you and one other co-worker on the job tonight, so you’re working the register as he pays. you hand him his cash back, along with a napkin with some writing on it.
“thank you !” he stammers out
you smirk at him and reply, “you’re welcome, suneater.”
~
a few days later, the hero is nervously fidgeting with the napkin that had your number and name written on it back at his pent house.
he had called you the day after you had given him your number, and you had been texting each other since then. you boldly initiated most, if not all, conversations between the two of you. it’s not that tamaki was dry, he was just so nervous.
yesterday, you asked him if you could come over and check out his beautiful house his hero money could afford him. he, of course, said yes excitably.
he thinks you’re perfect. you’re confident, intelligent, and hardworking. even if you aren’t working a high-end job, you still put in effort to make the best out of it. even through texts, your personality shines and your ambitions are clear. how could he possibly say no to you?
tamaki starts to get ready, putting on a button up shirt and pants that seem a little too formal for just a friend coming over to hang out, but he wants to make a good impression. he’s excited to see you.
after he’s finished tidying up his living room, his doorbell rings. he opens his door to find you, standing there in a skirt even shorter than the one that was apart of your uniform and a cute tank top that accentuates your tits.
he noticeably gapes for a moment before welcoming you inside, blushing intensely. you giggle a little at his cute mannerisms and he offers you some tea and a little tour, which you accept.
he shows you around the house, telling you the stories of all the little heirlooms he has around, and the two of you end up bonding over similar interests. you notice the way he looks away nervously when your eyes meet, and you can’t help but think he is adorable.
tamaki is just too sweet to resist.
one minute, he’s sitting you down in his living room, on the couch, offering to watch a movie or a tv show, the next, your face is a few inches from his.
“you’re really too cute, suneater.” you tell him, looking up at him with wide eyes.
“th.. thank you, i think you’re cute too, not in like a weird way but like…” he mutters out, shocked by your sudden closeness.
you cut off his stammering and embarrassment by kissing him softly, only for a few moments. you pull back from him, and even after one kiss he's left breathless. "do you want to go further?" you ask him before you try anything else. he quickly nods, and you know you've got him in the palm of your hand. you kiss him again, but deeper and slowly. tamaki starts to breathe heavily through his nose, leaning into the kiss intensely. he's sloppy and uncoordinated, practically screaming "virgin", so you had to ask. "are you a virgin, tamaki?" his face heated up, and even though you probably knew the answer by the look on his face, he still nodded. "aww, sweet boy," you cooed, "don't be embarrassed, i can lead you through it." you pushed him to lay on his back on the leather of the couch and he looked up at you with nervous doe eyes. he watched you closely as you pulled your shirt up and over your head, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. you sat on his lap and slowly rode him, your clothed cunt becoming wet with slick that was seeping onto his pants. you gave tamaki a show as your ground on him and unhooked your bra, tossing it to the side. you were left in just your skirt and underwear, and not even that for long. tamaki's heart was pounding through his chest when you put your hand on his shoulder to encourage to sit up and put his face into your tits. "they're for you, baby" you reassured him. experimentally, he put his mouth around one of your nipples and put his hand on your free breast, toying with it. he moaned softly when you put your hand in his hair. you let him have his fun for a few moments before pulling back and assisting him with removing his shirt. he already looked flushed out. "too much?" you asked, patting him softly. "n-no, i'm okay." "okay, pretty boy." you continued and helped him remove his pants. hooking a finger in the waistband of his boxers and pulling, his cock sprung out, leaking with pre. "you have such a cute cock, tama." you preened he smiled softly and thanked you. tamaki was sitting up, while you were in between his legs as you began to give little kisses to the tip of his dick. he made small whimpering noises. you licked a long stripe from the base all the way up to the head, and he gasped. you started to play with his balls softly in one hand while jerking him off with the other hand. your hand paid attention to the base as you used your mouth to suck on the tip. "ha, hah~" he moaned out. taking his moans of satisfaction as motivation, you began to pick up the pace. he started to get louder and louder and you knew he was going to cum soon. he called out your name and said, "i-i'm gonna-" "cum for me baby, c'mon, don't be shy" with a throaty moan, he came, and you stuck out your tongue to catch every drop and swallowed it, looking into his eyes to tease him further. he shyly covered his face with his hand in attempt to avert his eyes, but you stopped him and put his arm back by his thigh. "don't hide sweetheart~" you cooed "y-you look so pretty, i can't handle it." "you can do it for me, cutie pie." you took off your remaining clothes and climbed onto his lap, your pussy sitting atop his cock. "are you ready, baby?" you asked "yes, i-i am." you sat up on your knees, slowly pushing yourself down on his cock as it pushed you open. tamaki was whimpering slightly, feeling overstimulated already.
you moaned in comfort once he was fully in, and he smiled knowing he made you feel good. you began to slowly bounce up and down, and tamaki had no problems with the pace, as it felt more sensual to him and better for his first time. "you're doing so good" you told him as you brushed back some of his hair. the two of you were chest to chest, and he nuzzled into your neck to stifle whimpers. you sped up your pace, and he was quickly becoming unable to handle the way your pussy clenched at him and hugged his cock.
tamaki groaned out, and suddenly you felt his warm cum being pushed into your cervix. his eyes got heavy and his breathing was slowing.
“you did such a good job cumming for me, sweet boy,” you praised, “but i haven’t finished yet. be a good boy and help me feel good, okay?”
his eyes were brimming with tears from the overstimulation, as you hadn’t stopped riding him. he nodded and said, “i’ll be g-good for you!”
you smiled at him, slowly getting off him. you turned around and bent yourself over and arched your back, presenting your wet pussy to him.
for a few moments, he was mesmerized. he sat up and took his finger to your slit, playing with it and massaging your clit. you praised him with your moans and “good boy, tamaki”s.
he lined up with your cunt and pushed in, relishing in the way you squeezed him. he started out very slow.
“c’mon baby, harder for me.” you asked
tamaki whispered out, “i-i don’t know if i can take it…”
“i know you can, for me.”
he sped up his pace, quickly moving to please you. his normally quiet apartment was filled with the noise of his skin colliding with yours. tamaki whined, his recently virgin cock overstimulated by the pure feeling of the way your pussy clenched on him and pulled him in. you heard sniffles behind you and craned your head around to see tamaki pouring silent tears. noticing your concern, he managed out, "feels s' good!" you smiled wide at him, "you're so pretty when you cry, tama." the sight of tamaki sent you over the edge, and you climaxed on his dick and moaned out. he fucked you through the aftershocks of your orgasm, and then pulled out slowly and gently. you turned around and nearly collapsed on him, pushing him to lay back down on his couch, arm hooked around you. you both laid there, breathing deep, for a moment. "how was your first time?" you asked, placing your hand on his chest and gliding your fingers on his skin. "it was amazing, and i had it with the perfect person." ~
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pupyuj · 3 months
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→ “ruin our friendship.” || kim gaeul x reader fic.
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— for years, gaeul has trusted your heart and tried to find whatever good you saw in your douchebag of a boyfriend, but she has had enough. and now she wants to show you that you deserve so much better...
word count: 6.9k.
dynamic: dom!kim gaeul x sub!taken!reader.
warnings: bffs-to-lovers, cheating, oral, fingering, cunnilingus, facesitting, faceriding, overstimulation, masturbation, praise kink.
requested ? : nope.
a/n: i don't even know how long this has been rotting in my drafts but SHE IS FINALLY FREE! and we have our first gaeul fic AND I HAVE OFFICIALLY WRITTEN A FIC FOR EVERY IVE MEMBER EYAYYYY 🥰💖 now i don't have to worry about possibly looking like i favor one member more than the others omg guys i can assure you i have thoughts about ive unnies all the time, the ones for yujin are just loud as FUCK. much like herself. ANYWAYS, HEHE I HAD A LOT OF FUN WRITING THIS and i hope you all love it 💕
p.s. as usual this is not proofread thoroughly so apologies in advance for any mistakes! 😭💞
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ever since entering college, you and your best friend gaeul have had to match your schedules perfectly in order to hang out and even talk regularly. those assignments couldn’t finish themselves after all, as much as you hoped they did. years before, you and her would have the time of your lives shopping and visiting the many different restaurants your vast city offered, but now, everything was different. and in gaeul’s most humble opinion, your busy lives as college students wasn’t the only problem. she could name a few actually! there was her part-time job at her mechanic father’s service shop where she spends most of her time sitting on a chair and listening to middle-aged men try to woo her as they wait for their car to get fixed, and there was your side gig as some small-time coordinator in a pretty popular live house in the downtown part of the city.
but gaeul can’t exactly be angry at your jobs for pulling the two of you away from each other! what she can be angry about was you were always distracted whenever you did go out together. here’s a clear picture: you would be sitting with her in a cute coffee shop after two weeks of not being able to see each other and there gaeul is, talking about the shenanigans that happens in her classes, her dad’s shop, and her life in general. then, she’d find you spacing out, or staring at your phone—just completely ignoring her. for the first few times it happened, gaeul just thought that perhaps you were just worried about your schoolwork!
it made sense after all. you were some kind of academic overachiever that always used to nag at gaeul to finish her geometry homework during your high school days. gaeul was going to be fine with it all; she even thought about things she could tell you to soothe your head but one little peek at your phone screen ruined it all. every ounce of patience in gaeul just disappeared into thin air once she saw that you were distressed because of your stupid boyfriend’s messages.
ugh. your boyfriend.
now, gaeul wasn’t one to shit on her best friend’s lovers just because, okay? ninety-three percent of the time she has a valid reason! here’s the breakdown: your boyfriend is manipulative, abusive, possessive, and ugly. one would say that maybe he wasn’t always that way, or that maybe he’s struggling with things! well, gaeul can confirm that he has always been horrible to you and that whatever the fuck he’s dealing with doesn’t give him the excuse to be such an asshole to someone that genuinely cares for him. gaeul can’t even count how many times you’ve showed up at her doorstep in tears because of him. 
she really can’t understand why you’re still dating him. it’s been about five years since the two of you got together and really, the only good thing you got from that relationship is a ride to the campus and if you’re lucky and he actually feels like being a decent boyfriend for once, some fancy clothes. clothes that he picks out for you, and he can’t even get that shit right! he doesn’t know your style, the kind of clothes you want to wear, the brands you’ve always wanted to get clothes from, and in general, you. gaeul knows people like him all too well. people that only want you to fill a very specific void in their miserable life.
gaeul can’t stand him. you deserve so much better, you can do so much better.
and gaeul is better.
just like that, an idea pops up in gaeul’s head as she sits in a booth in her favorite diner, but she didn’t have time to think about it because she looks out the window and there you were in a pretty, pink sundress with your hair arranged in a cute braid adorned with little butterfly clips. gaeul lets out a chuckle—rei, your roommate, must’ve helped you with that. gaeul also notices that you were wearing the sneakers that the two of you bought together so you could match, which warmed her heart. even more so when she remembers that she was wearing her own pair of those sneakers too!
gaeul watched patiently as you entered the diner and greeted the waitress behind the counter like you always do. a bright smile spreads across your face once you find gaeul in your usual booth, and gaeul feels herself flashing her very own grin as you start walking faster towards her.
“hey! sorry, i’m late. i had to change my entire outfit. i didn’t think it would be so warm today.” you said, pulling gaeul into a quick hug before sitting across from her. gosh, you looked beautiful! the baby hairs that stuck to your forehead and the sides of your face only made you look even cuter, gaeul almost wanted to reach out and pinch your cheeks.
“careful. look any prettier and someone might mistake you as my girlfriend.” gaeul quipped. she finds herself grinning proudly as you laugh.
“you look dashing yourself! they probably already think you’re my boyfriend, but you’re not neglecting me for ‘a night with the boys’ so we would get found out quickly.” you sighed. you were clearly disappointed, but you covered it up with another laugh before sipping on the glass of water gaeul kindly ordered for you.
“then today is a date. he probably hasn’t taken you in one for ages, anyway.” gaeul doesn’t know if you’ll actually buy it. she wasn’t even joking! as far as she knows, his version of dates is taking you on a boring ass car ride and spoiling you with useless shit. she knows what you want on dates. she knows what you want in general. let this work.
you giggled, “true. it’s a date then.” and she doesn’t miss the shy smile on your face afterwards.
well! it looks like this was going to be easier than gaeul predicted.
as the two of you ate your lunch, you talked about school and how life has been treating you both. you were thriving for the most part! you were up to date with your coursework, your job hasn’t been too demanding or taxing, and you were able to have enough breathing space in your life to actually meet up with gaeul, like right now! it seems like the only problem in your life was your boyfriend. he hasn’t been spending too much time with you, and one would think it might be because he’s gotten busier but nope, he’s as shitty as gaeul describes him to be. he only wants to hang out with his team and his stupid friends, and he barely talks to you even in text! that asshole.
gaeul didn’t let you dwell on it all though. she absolutely detests seeing you upset. especially over that useless fucker. she distracts you with a few funny shenanigans from working in her dad’s shop, and how she has actually been doing quite well in her classes! it was clearly your influence. hell, if it weren’t for you, gaeul wouldn’t even be in college at all! you gave her direction, and now you were giving her all the motivation she needs to make it through one school day at a time.
fuck, your boyfriend was so lucky. gaeul has to let you see that he wasn’t worth anything you’re giving him. she has to pull you away and make you see that a pretty girl like you needs to feel good!
in more ways than one.
“so, boyfriend, where are we going?” you joked as you settled yourself in the passenger seat of her car. while gaeul started the engine, that was when she put her little scheme in motion.
“bowling. or rather, sending the balls to the gutter for two hours straight.” she said. bowling happens to be your favorite stress reliever, it always has been! gaeul always liked watching you as you played. even when you didn’t hit any of the pins, you still had fun. gaeul was willing to bet that your pathetic boyfriend rarely ever takes you bowling.
“god you’re the best.”
“mhm, i know.”
from then on, gaeul knew it was going to be a breeze. especially when she did get on the road and you just allowed her to put her hand on your thigh. you didn’t even notice at first, occupied with fixing your charming but unruly hair. but then gaeul lightly squeezed your thigh, caressing slowly just to test the waters, and finally, you noticed her. she was afraid that your attitude would change, but it seemed like… you liked what she was doing. and so gaeul’s hand stays in place. she took note of how you squeezed your legs together every time she caresses your skin gently, or how you would sometimes put your hand on top of hers.
the drive to the bowling alley was quiet, save for the music you’ve put on, of course. silence was a rarity between the two of you since there was always something to catch up on, things to complain and whine about, people to talk shit about, and casual conversations that have become needed just to have some sense of normality in your chaotic lives. gaeul was afraid she had made you uncomfortable because come on, she was quite literally trying to take over your boyfriend’s place! joke or not, this was bound to make you just the least bit weirded out!
imagine gaeul’s surprise when she briefly glanced over to your direction and find you looking relaxed. not even the constant buzzing of your phone was able to break your focus on the road. just like that, gaeul doesn’t stop a smile from forming on her face. forget about him.
and it seems like as soon as gaeul parked her car near the bowling alley—you did! you took gaeul’s arm and started gingerly dragging her through the doors, giggling as you did so. it was easy to secure a spot for the two of you, the place wasn’t too busy yet after all.
“two hours of this? you ready to lose, kim?” you said with a mocking smile as you approached the lane. gaeul sat back on the couches behind you, smirking as she very shamelessly checked your backside out unbeknownst to you. there was a small table in the middle of the u-shaped couch that gaeul sat on where you laid down your phone. as you busied yourself making your cute little bowling profile on the monitor near the lane, gaeul glances down at your phone that kept lighting up at it vibrated. your boyfriend was calling you, and he has sent you a dozen or more messages that you still haven’t bothered to look at.
gaeul sneers at the picture of your boyfriend on the screen. he really didn’t deserve you! luckily for him, she will happily take you off his hands. gaeul takes your phone and declines the call, smiling happily when she leaned back on the couch and continued on staring at your beautiful form. you hooked a medium-sized ball with your hand and prepared yourself—sure, you were never the best at the sport but you were to have fun and have fun only! and so you delivered the ball and hit exactly seven pins. gaeul tilts her head a bit to see the look of pure joy on your face and finds herself grinning along with you.
for once, it was not at all a bad start for you! you grabbed the smaller ball and prepared to take down the last three pins at the other end of the lane. upon staring at your near flawless little pose that especially accentuated your ass, gaeul whistles. the sound catches you off-guard and you end up messing up your throw, sending the ball into the gutter in a fit of laughter.
“you little devil.” you said, playfully glaring at your best friend who has stood up and started stretching all of her limbs.
“this is where your short-lived lucky streak ends,” gaeul pats your butt as she approaches the lane. and of course, she didn’t lie. gaeul delivers a ball and hits her first (and certainly not last!) strike. she winked at you while you stared at her, mouth agape at how she didn’t even hesitate to not go easy on you. “cat got your tongue, baby?” your best friend teased.
you don’t even notice the nickname, what with your competitive spirit alive and well. “oh, it is so on, kim gaeul!”
and for the next two hours, you and gaeul had the best time of your life in that bowling alley. the longer the two of you were together and the more you got drunk from pure joy of being with each other, gaeul got bolder. she was touching your waist, your back, and sometimes even rested her hand on your ass for more than a few seconds! you didn’t care—in fact, you were just as bad! grabbing her and pulling her close to whisper things in her ear (partly because the music would have drowned your voice, mostly because you wanted gaeul nearer), allowing her to not-so-discreetly touch you in places a best friend should definitely not, and finally, sitting on her lap, playing with the collar of her shirt and telling her to take you to her home.
exactly zero innocent intent at all, and gaeul was seemingly more than happy to comply!
on the way to gaeul’s apartment, it was noticeably… warm. both of your hearts were beating fast and loud from anticipation. gaeul yearned to feel your skin without the hindrance of your clothes getting in the way. her fingertips itched to feel goosebumps run along your arm, shoulders, and back as she touched you in ways she always dreamed of doing. her lips longed to taste yours since she knew that peach-flavored chapstick you two liked to share would taste so much sweeter if you were the direct source. gaeul wanted you, and she was going to have you—boyfriend be fucking damned.
when gaeul flipped the lock on her door, the two of you were all over each other. bags and jackets thrown to some random corners, shoes messily removed and left all over the living room area. gaeul barely twisted open the doorknob of her bedroom door, being so focused on exploring every crevice of your mouth with her tongue until she tugs you inside her room. her lips stayed locked with yours as she sat on her bed and pulled you to her lap, hiking your dress up and squeezing your ass. your moans were much, much sweeter than she imagined. she shivers at the feeling of your fingers playing with the back of her neck, her own whimpers only encouraging you to busy your hands with unbuttoning her shirt.
when you’ve successfully taken her shirt off, your dress was next. and gaeul made sure to take her sweet time with that! her hands caressed your thighs, gently squeezed your hips and even moved you so you could grind on her thigh (the cute whine she earned from that was very much appreciated!), and then her hands stayed wrapped around your waist as she placed soft kisses along your collarbone. you could feel her smile against your skin when you squeezed at her arms, knowing damn well what you wanted but refusing to give it to you because… well, if this happens to be the only time she fucks you then she might as well make it last!
finally, when gaeul was satisfied with the little marks she had left on your collarbone, she started pulling the ribbon on your back and loosened up your dress. “you made sure to look pretty for me, huh?” she asked as she watched you undress yourself. she took note of the bright blush on your cheeks under her dark stare, and it made her think that perhaps she wasn’t the only one who was thinking of fucking her best friend for the longest time. meanwhile, in your defense, it’s been quite a while since you had to dress yourself up and what better occasion to do that than hanging out with your best friend?
plus, if it got you to get fucked by the friend in question then you’d say that the two-hour preparation was worth it!
when gaeul laid you down on the bed, she noticed how you suddenly became quite tense, looking as though your boyfriend was about to come breaking down gaeul’s doors to drag you back with him. gaeul made sure to relieve you by kissing your forehead, taking your hands with hers and then putting your knuckles to her lips. “you’re safe with me, (y/n).” she whispered, pecking your knuckles gently and smiling at you. sure, it works… but the fear that bubbled up in your stomach did not go away.
“if he finds out about this…” you pull your best friend close, letting her embrace you while you wrap your arms around her neck.
gaeul scoffed arrogantly, “he won’t—”
“—if he does, i don’t know what i’ll do,” you never told gaeul that your boyfriend has been watching out for her for the longest time. he was always suspicious of gaeul, saying that he was so sure that she wanted to fuck you and make you hers. because of his suspicions (that now proved to be true), he always made sure to be annoying and text you and call you an absurd amount of times whenever you were hanging out with gaeul. he never does that when you’re out with your other friends. no. that behavior was reserved for the one person he was threatened by. “i don’t want him to hurt you.” you said. you can’t even imagine what he would do to you, let alone the girl he absolutely detests.
“he’s as dumb as a brick. i could fuck you in his own bathroom and he’d have no idea.” gaeul makes a mental note to reserve that exact scenario in the future.
you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, “you know he can very much send you to the hospital, right? he’s like, three heads taller than you!”
“three heads yet he’s still stupid enough to treat you horribly and practically give you away to me,” gaeul sneaks her hands behind you, unclasps your bra and pulls it off of you in one swift motion. your heart beats louder every second gaeul’s eyes travel downward, soaking in more and more of your naked beauty that she longed to set her eyes on forever. “i’ll teach him a thing or two about giving a pretty girl the pleasure she deserves.”
every doubt and fear you had evaporates into nothing as soon as gaeul puts her lips against your skin once again. sucking, biting, licking—anything she can do to leave marks and make you remember this night akin to a skilled painter perfecting their masterpiece with every stroke. you feel gaeul’s hand trail down your stomach and palm your soaked panties, and you had an almost automatic reaction to grind against her, blushing wildly upon hearing her chuckle at your enthusiasm. gaeul wraps her warm mouth around your nipple, your back arching at the feeling. an embarrassingly loud moan escapes your mouth when she flicks the hardened bud and presses her palm flat against your clit at the same time.
you were losing further control of your actions. grinding restlessly on gaeul’s hand for further pleasure, taking her free hand to play with your other breast, and even pushing her head impossibly closer to your chest. she was skilled with her tongue—you shuddered at the mere thought of what else she could do to you should this night go on for longer. you feel gaeul slide her hand inside your panties, only to feel your pussy with her fingers rather than fucking you immediately.
it was adorable how impatient you were. you needed and wanted to be pleasured. it must have been quite a while since you’ve gotten some action—gaeul isn’t surprised that even in sex your boyfriend can’t deliver. every flick of your nipple, every pinch to the other one, every parting of your pussy lips, and every brush against your clit, you were mewling. you would be embarrassed if you actually heard yourself but instead, all you could focus on was the little pleasure gaeul was giving you right now.
“that feel good, hon?” gaeul asks as she presses her lower palm against your clit harder than ever. she found your little nods endearing and your inability to find the words to answer her only inflates her ego, but as much as she would love to tease you all day long, she was just as desperate for you as you are for her.
“how long has it been since he’s made you cum?” she asked, slowly pulling your panties off and letting it drop to the floor. gaeul keeps her eyes fixed on you, looking for discomfort or doubt or any sign that tells her how you could be feeling about all of this. while gaeul knows that the two of you have already crossed a point of no return, she knows that if you gave yourself the time to think about all of this, you would come to your senses. in other words, you would get the fuck out of her house and never talk to her again. it would be disheartening, yes, but gaeul unfortunately knows you well enough to know that it would be possible.
to her surprise though, you seemed to have stopped caring now. you didn’t even bother to glance at your phone that was on the floor, vibrating wildly due to the amount of times you were being called by your boyfriend. you only silently beckoned for gaeul to touch you, to taste you, to claim you. and gaeul doesn’t need to be asked twice to oblige!
“he… he has never made me cum.��� you admitted, looking away from the embarrassment.
“are you serious?” gaeul laughs, but then her jovial expression is replaced with an incredulous one. “you guys do have sex, right?”
“of course we do! just… h-he’s horrible at it… every time we’re done, i have to get myself off because he never can!” you covered your face in frustration, now just wondering how you actually survived years without being able to cum with your partner during the act.
“fuck, he really is worth nothing at all, huh?” gaeul cackles. ah, poor you… but you didn’t have to worry about not cumming tonight, because gaeul just now made a silent promise that she’ll make you cum as many times as you want. she lowers herself so she could be facing your pussy, all wet and ready just for her. just as gaeul was about to bury her face in between your legs, you take a hold of one of her hands and intertwine it with yours, making her heart swell with affection. she doesn’t look back up at you, knowing that the blush on her cheeks would be too noticeable. gaeul starts off giving your cunt gentle kisses and little licks—hearing you softly whimper and seeing you jolt every time the tip of her tongue so much as brush slightly around your clit gets her adrenaline going, and eventually, gaeul commits herself to eating you out.
within mere minutes of practically making out with your pussy, gael feels you put your free hand behind gaeul’s head and pushes her closer. “more…” you could barely say, too caught up with the euphoric feeling gaeul has instilled in you using her tongue alone. it takes everything in gaeul to let go of your hand to part your lips to have better access to your clit, and when you grabbed a fistful of her hair and let out a beautiful moan, gaeul knew she was doing something right.
something adorable gaeul notices is that you were extremely sensitive when it comes to your clit, more than any woman gaeul has ever been intimate with and even herself. she licks a stripe up your cunt, relishing in your taste and the way you whine her name, before sucking on your clit. it’s almost as if you’ve never had your pussy eaten out this good before! and truthfully, you really haven’t. gaeul’s own satisfied moans created a buzz in your head, letting you know just how much she loved and savored your taste with each lick. she brings a new kind of pleasure when she makes out with your clit at a gentle, slow pace. the kind of pleasure you would never find your boyfriend (or anyone else for that matter) to be giving you.
it almost makes you wonder what gaeul’s true intentions were. of course, you weren’t expecting her to be completely in love with you. if she was, the first thing she would do to show it was not making you cheat on your boyfriend with her. was she just looking for a quick hook-up? but if that was the case, she could have just grabbed some random girl instead of putting your friendship in an awkward spot like this. perhaps you were just another box in a list that she wants to check off, but that would be cruel and completely unlike the gaeul you have known since the two of you were young. with the way she was cautious with how she fucked you, touched you, and even handled you during all of this, you wanted to believe that she has some sort of undiscovered feelings towards you.
but why were you even thinking about that? did you even have feelings for her? that was a dangerous territory you never wanted to explore, not when you cherished your friendship too much. but the ‘idea’ of dating your own best friend was never really just an idea with you. not when gaeul had ten times the charm that makes your boyfriend look like some hopeless wimp. not when gaeul will forever be the person that knows you the best. not when every time she does something as simple as tell you you’re pretty, or open a door for you, or laugh at your jokes, or smile at you so handsomely, the tiniest of butterflies flutter around in your stomach.
it was a scary feeling, one that you always hoped to go away one day but these days, and especially today, it has been hard. maybe when this is over… you don’t have to run away from it anymore, because when you look at gaeul’s eyes that pierced right through yours even as she was eating you out, you can see something beyond the hunger, the lust, and the desperation.
whatever it was, you found yourself more willing to uncover it, even if it might ruin everything.
“you’re so perfect, (y/n)...” gaeul snaps you out of your trance and immediately after, she dips her tongue inside you. “you’re better off with someone else… someone who knows you better, inside and out… mmhn... don’t you agree, princess?”
you whine shamelessly, “y-yes..! ahh… with you…” now you didn’t even mean to let that slip past your lips, but gaeul seems beyond satisfied that you did. completely addicted to your taste, gaeul pulls you closer and further down the bed by your waist, your back arching with how well she was using her mouth. the pleasure gaeul brought was enough to make your thighs twitch, your legs slightly rise in the air, and your eyes to roll to the back of your head.
“you cumming soon, baby…?” gaeul asks, briefly lifting her head slightly from in between your legs. a sly smirk graced her features, knowing that the cause of your incoherence was her. it gives her the confidence to do a lot more to you, to do everything she has been wanting to do for years. you seem to notice how she had paused to stare at you, and you shoved her face back down to your core, earning a chuckle from her. gaeul pushes your thigh back, almost lifting your leg up, for better access and eats you out better than before as if that was even possible.
at this point both of your hands were on her head. you would be worried about the tight grip you had on her hair but you were way too busy on that tight knot in your stomach. you think you hear gaeul encouraging you to cum, and you can vaguely feel her palm resting on your stomach and it does help you relax a bit. enough for you to have the strength to look down at your best friend, whose eyes have always been on you this entire time. god, she was pretty… and she looked like she belonged right where she was. she didn’t give you any more time to admire her though, as a flick of her tongue on your clit sends you to a blissful orgasm.
your body softly falls backwards your bed as you throw your head back with only gaeul’s name filling the air. gaeul spends a good few seconds staring at your face—her doing. you were simply bewitching in her eyes. she made sure to take her time cleaning you up while you came down from your high, waiting patiently until you’ve caught your breath and calmed down. she sees you breathing normally and smiles before rising up, attacking your face with a barrage of kisses while you laugh and take her in your arms.
“don’t get comfortable. this is all we’re doing until morning.” gaeul, more than ready to please you all day and night long, places a wet kiss on your collarbone before sliding her hand in between your legs. she was well on her way down your core until her phone blares loudly—someone was calling her. she ignores the sound, opting to kiss down your neck while her fingers start ghosting over your clit. and just then, you turned your head and got a glimpse of the caller id on the gaeul’s screen. but gaeul sees it first and she swipes her phone away with a dark chuckle.
“w-who is it…?” you asked quietly, not wanting to alert whoever was on the other end. gaeul’s smile grows wider as she puts the caller on speaker. your heart drops to your stomach as soon as you hear the other person’s voice. 
a man. your man. your fucking boyfriend!
“are you there, kim?”
sheer panic courses within you. you tried grabbing gaeul’s hand, but she moves away, pressing a single finger against your lip. and then her mouth moves, but she doesn’t make a sound. trust me, she says silently. you kept still, trusting your best friend to not do anything stupid. of course she wouldn’t put you in any danger just to have fun, but you did worry that she would set your boyfriend off enough for him to do something to her. your heart beats loudly in your chest and goosebumps appear all over your skin. you were terrified beyond comprehension, but gaeul’s soft caresses and reassuring eyes comfort you, even just a little bit.
“what do you want?” gaeul asked, annoyed that he just had to interrupt the two of you. her hand once again travels downwards your body until she reaches your cunt. she traces your lips before inserting the smallest length of her two fingers, making you bite back a moan.
“where’s (y/n)? why isn’t she answering her phone?”
gaeul grins and plunges her fingers deep inside you, she couldn’t hold back a quiet laugh as she watched you choke out a moan. you immediately covered your mouth, pitifully glaring at your best friend but not being completely mad at her. her fingers felt too good inside you—staying perfectly still just to get you to get used to the feeling until she starts moving, slow and steady as if she herself was savoring the feeling of your cunt clench around her digits.
“what was that? is that her? are you fucking my girlfriend?!”
gaeul cackles, “you wouldn’t know what (y/n) sounds like when being fucked even if you’re the one fucking her.” she increases her pace, even nodding towards you to get you to relax and just keep trusting her because she could feel your fear. it made her angry. no one should claim to be your partner if they made you feel so afraid of them. you shouldn’t have to beg for them for their time and love either. if gaeul had known that this was what everything from back then would lead up to, then she would’ve intervened when you and your boyfriend were still just acquaintances. but there was no point in dwelling on that because she has the opportunity to make this all right.
and the correct ending to all of this was her freeing you from him, him ending up all alone, and the two of you figuring out what to do with each other.
“you bitch! i swear to god if that’s (y/n)—”
“—i’m not fucking my best friend, shithead. you should start worrying more about the fact that she’s refusing to call your lacking ass back.” gaeul watches you intently as you slowly lose most of yourself to her. moving your hips accordingly, meeting her little thrusts with eagerness that only got gaeul herself drenched. you tugged on gaeul’s top, silently asking her to get off the call already and just fuck you. and that you didn’t have to ask her twice, of course. while your boyfriend kept yelling at her, gaeul ends the call before blissfully dropping her phone to the ground.
you don’t know what came over you, but all of a sudden you wanted to see your best friend under you. tugging her down harder, catching her lips with yours in a searing kiss… feeling sick satisfaction in you when she stiffened at your sudden surge of passion, and using her shock to flip your positions over. gaeul pulls her fingers out, putting them on your hips instead and trying to keep up with the way you kissed her feverishly.
“you’re cute…” gaeul whispers, thoroughly entertained by you. ugh, those eyes. that nose, her perfect moles, her smile, that mouth… fuck. you have to feel her lips on your pussy again but this time… you wanted to be in control. you smile at your best friend as you swipe your thumb across her lips before getting in position.
“holy shit, (y/n)—”
“—shut up, man.” you cut her off with your face so warm you think you might explode. she didn’t look like she was turned off by the idea. in fact, gaeul places her hands on your thighs, looking more excited than she has ever been this entire time. “t-tell me if i’m hurting you… or anything.” you said. gaeul merely nods, eyes focused on your core. you were going to say a few more words, maybe tell her that you haven’t sat on anyone’s face in a while so you might be bad at this but gaeul couldn’t wait another second. she pulls you down, and the sound that escapes your lips when her nose bumps against your clit was simply criminal.
“ffuck…! oh, g-god…!” with one hand tightly gripping the headboard and the other holding onto a random pillow, you start riding gaeul’s face. and again, she was moaning. as if a better flavor has never graced her tongue until she got to taste you. gosh, the way you threw your head back and let every lewd sound fill the air as you rode her got gaeul clenching, but she couldn’t keep her hands off of you either. she squeezed your thighs, almost as if she was encouraging you to go faster and just use her.
“mmhgn… so good… more, please..” letting go of the pillow and the headboard, you put your hands on gaeul’s head. you ride her faster, focused on pleasing yourself and chasing another orgasm while gaeul does her work with her tongue. it was getting harder and harder to hold herself back from touching her own pussy; she was too drenched and you were simply too delicious. at this rate, she might just cum untouched! the idea of it was humiliating almost, but gaeul figured that if she made you cum hard enough then you wouldn’t even realize what had happened to her. but then again… why would she go through all that trouble?
with one hand, gaeul reaches down and unzips her jeans, sliding further down and massaging her clit through her panties. of course, you don’t see this. you don’t even hear gaeul over the sound of your whimpering and moaning—all you wanted was to use her mouth to get yourself off. you managed to open your eyes slightly, however, and looked down at gaeul. her eyes were shut off, eyebrows furrowed deeply as she diligently ate out and fingered herself at the same time. 
you heart swells as you allow yourself to etch every single facial feature of hers in your mind. you didn’t think you’d find a more fitting place for your best friend. it turns out she looked good underneath you, too! when you got distracted by admiring gaeul’s face, you felt a sting on your ass. you gasped loudly, and although it caught you off guard, you liked it. you moved your hips enthusiastically as gaeul squeezed your ass, now glaring at you to intimidate you to keep going. and it works! well, it’s not like you were going to stop just like that.
“p-pretty… you belong right here…” you said, gripping her hair tighter. gaeul moans at your words and she feels herself only clenching tighter around her own fingers. she didn’t expect to get so turned on by merely fucking you and hearing you talk to her in such a different way than usual. she pushes her tongue inside your cunt, making you scream in pleasure. gaeul’s ears ring at the sound of your voice—she was sure now that you wouldn’t dare go back to that pathetic boyfriend of yours.
you were hers now. and she has always been yours.
“gaeul… babe, i’m cumming—god…!” with one last thrust on your best friend’s face, you came. moaning blissfully in the air as gaeul allowed you to ride your orgasm out, and while she laps up your cum as best as she could, she hits a satisfying climax which grants you the perfect chance to hear a cute squeak from her. gaeul removes her hand from her panties and holds you down on her face, not entirely satisfied to let you go even though she can see that you can barely keep yourself sitting. that wasn’t going to be a problem anymore though as gaeul once again flipped your positions so you would be sitting on the bed and she would still be in between your legs.
“mmh… stop, i’m tired… please.” you shake your head weakly, gently tapping gaeul’s hand. fortunately enough, your best friend respected your wishes and stopped, opting to scoop you up in her arms instead and hug you. you laughed at how much of a mess you made on your best friend’s face, wiping all of it clean with your hands before giving her a quick kiss. gaeul doesn’t forget to get rid of her pants before staying completely still in bed with you, staring at nothing but your pretty face for minutes on end.
you think you fell asleep a couple of times, and you ended up always opening your eyes to gaeul smiling dumbly at you like a lovesick puppy. if you had known gaeul allowed herself to see you in such a different light, then you wouldn’t have wasted time trying to fall in love with a boy who did nothing good for you. but no matter, you were going to leave him, and finally, you and your best friend can work towards a more fulfilling relationship for the two of you.
“i always knew it’d be you in the end.” gaeul whispers as she leaves the tiniest and sweetest kisses on your knuckles.
the tiniest bits of fear settled in the pit of your stomach—you didn’t want your boyfriend to find out about this at all. you wanted to protect gaeul and dump his ass with as much as peace as you can manage, but you know he was going to bring her up somehow. at the end of the day, the blame should be put on you since you were the one who allowed gaeul to make those advances towards you anyway… but you knew all too well that that wouldn’t stop your boyfriend from coming up with an excuse to try and confront your best friend.
but every time you dwelled on those thoughts, gaeul somehow notices it and keeps your eyes on her. she knew she would be able to pull your attention to something else and that she does rather effortlessly. and you knew that you would be safe, as long as you were with her.
you laugh at her words, “i’m glad that you didn’t fuck me just because i’m hot and you hate my boyfriend.” you joked, earning a playful slap on the shoulder.
“no, stupid,” gaeul pulls you closer by your waist, kissing your nose. “i love you.”
506 notes · View notes
rhysazriel · 3 months
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Meet Me in the Copy Room [CEO!Rhysand]
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SUMMARY: Rhysand is Y/N’s boss but he likes his secretary more than he should. (10.8k)
WARNINGS: teasing, swearing, kissing, smut; dirty talk, fingering, oral (both receiving and face sitting), protected sex, multiple orgasms
A/N: this is a fic from my other account that I no longer use, I changed some bits around for it to fit Rhys' character after an anon had requested it!! Also, this is a Modern AU bc Rhys’ vibe screams CEO hehe
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Y/N has worked in many places before Velaris LTD. She was a waitress for a brief few months when she was in college at a diner near her dorm. She was also a librarian for six months and a part-time barista in the cafe down the street from her parents home. 
She’s done her share in retail and even a year working in the bank, but as of recent, the past seven months, she’s been employed by Velaris LTD, one of the worlds finest trading companies.
She’s no longer assigned a God awful uniform, nor does she have to converse with the general public and adhere to the customers' every need. No. Now, Y/N has her own little office area with a big reception desk with her own phone and separate line across her boss’ office. 
Now, she has her own computer and a little fax machine and she wears heels with pencil skirts and pretty blouses.
Given, she’s a secretary, but an important one at that. She’s not the kind of secretary that runs pointless errands and gets her boss coffee while adhering to their every beck and call. She arranges meetings in the most elite of clubs and restaurants. She files the reports she’s meant to and she handles his schedule and phone calls. 
He may be the CEO, but Y/N is the one behind closed doors that ensures everything runs as smoothly as it does.
And sure, Rhysand is the literal face and name of his damn company and he should ideally hire someone to run the damn business for him, but he’s also narcissistic and refuses whenever it’s brought up to let another man or woman run his business for him. 
Maybe that’s what she likes so much about her job. That he doesn’t trust anyone to be by his side except her.
It’s something she’s struggled to understand for the longest time. She’s three years younger than him, barely just turned twenty-six, yet he chose to hire her over all the other highly-qualified applicants. 
She hasn’t complained about it, would never. Her job is too good. As his personal secretary, her monthly wage is what four months at the diner used to get her. And don’t get her started on the other perks her position offers.
She’s thankful, and she makes that very clear in every opportunity she gets. She didn’t know Rhysand before she got the job, and if she’s completely honest, she’d never ever heard of him. 
She expected him to be some stuck up prick that didn’t respect women and only cared for his company and business. She was proven incredibly wrong at her interview when he made her a cup of tea and asked inclusive questions her previous employers didn’t care to think of.
Within three weeks of having the job, she’d learned more about him than the colleagues that have worked for him since the beginning of his firm. And she doesn’t mean things like how he takes his coffee and his favourite places to go for lunch. She means she knows what laundry detergent he can’t use because it irritates his skin. 
She knows his mother and sister are the most important women to him, that he sometimes misses his mundane life working with his brothers. She knows the meanings behind almost every single tattoo he has and that while the press made him out to be a cheating womaniser when his fiancee left him two years ago, it was actually her that did the cheating and left him heartbroken.
She’s always wondered why Rhysand trusts her so much. She’s never given him a reason not to, and she never would, but it’s always been in the back of her mind. But then, she supposes she doesn’t know why Rhys does a lot of things that regard her. 
Like how, in the mornings, he brings her coffee on his way past her desk. How he always insists he delivers paperwork to her himself and softly apologises for how much she has to file away. 
Or how he’ll send her cheeky emails from his personal about how annoying Gerione is when she tries to flirt with him. And on more than one occasion, she’s noticed him leaning in his chair to get a peek at her through the window of his office; craning his neck up to see her past the high wall of her reception-like desk.
She doesn’t say anything to him, though. She supposes he’s trying to sneakily check in on her to make sure she’s actually doing the work. Y/N knows she’s not the youngest to work for Velaris LTD, but she is the youngest to be fully employed and not as an intern. 
She’s faced ageism within the company since her first day. She’s either babied by the mothers of the company, or criticised and borderline bullied by the ones a few years older and higher up. She hasn’t much let it get to her, though. She figures she’s clearly a valuable asset if the company is still running and Rhysand still wants her by his side.
Today feels no different from any other. She gets to work at 7:45 AM, a sleepy smile on her lips as she greets Amora at the front desk. He smiles through tightly pursed lips and quickly avoids her gaze, greeting another worker with a high-pitched laugh and kissing their cheek. 
Y/N keeps walking, doesn’t let herself dwell and makes for the elevator. She’s alone until she gets up to the twelfth floor and the keycard clipped to her pencil skirt is gently patting against the left side of her lower tummy.
She doesn’t let her eyes take in her appearance as she walks past the floor-to-ceiling mirror that encompasses an entire 15-foot long wall. She knows her ponytail is tight enough and that her shirt is probably a little wonky because her bag that rests on her shoulder is tugging at the collar of it. 
She also doesn’t let herself look to her right because she doesn’t think she has the energy to pretend to ignore the snickers and grimaces from a few of the thirteenth-floor girls this morning.
Instead, Y/N rounds the corner and gets comfortable behind her desk. Her bag is tucked underneath it and her fingers make quick work of logging onto her computer and getting started for the day. Rhysand’s office is directly opposite her, thin windows either side of the tall door and from her seat, she can see his empty desk and a gorgeous view of the city.
It’s exactly 8 AM when Rhysand greets her with her morning coffee. He’s dressed in his usual slick black suit with a charming smile on those pink lips. Y/N would be lying if she said she’s never thought about her boss in more than a professional way. She’s thought about him in many different scenarios where he has her in many different positions.
“Good morning, Rhysand,” she greets him softly, a gentle smile on her plump lips. 
That was another thing that took her a while to get the hang of. Rhys doesn’t like to be referred to by his last name. The first time she greeted him as such, he waved it off and insisted she called him Rhysand or Rhys. 
It’s been months since she even thought of his last time… to the point where every time she sees it on some paperwork, she struggles to pair it with him.
Rhys takes his time every morning to admire her and her outfit of the day. He’s thoroughly pleased about the tight blouse and many open buttons at the top that offer the delicious view of the swell of her perky tits.
He averts his gaze with another charming grin, and can feel his trousers slowly begin to tighten as he places her coffee on her desk. “Morning, darling. How did you sleep?” he asks, always taking a few minutes out of his morning to make sure she feels okay and slept well the night before.
Rhysand’s never really known himself why he purposely goes out of his way to ask her these things. He doesn’t bother to do much with any other of his workers, nor his previous personal secretaries. 
He tells himself it’s because she’s young and new, so he wants to make sure she feels as comfortable and as included as he can. But she’s only three years younger than him and she’s been working for him for over a year.
He needs to stop feeding himself that same bullshit excuse.
Y/N gleams a pretty smile and leans forward with her elbows on the desk, subsequently pressing her tits together deliciously. Rhysand licks his lips, eyeing up her chest before gazing back at her pretty smile again. But it doesn’t go unnoticed and it stirs something that oozes confidence inside her.
She tilts her head a little, a hint of something mischievous in her eyes but Rhys doesn’t notice. Figures she’s too innocent to catch on to his somewhat advances, but little does he know. 
“Slept okay, it’s just really hot in my house lately… I need to speak with my landlord about getting a new AC fitted or I’ll be stuck sleeping naked until further notice,” she tells him through a seemingly innocent sigh, shrugging her shoulders and as hard as Rhysand tries to hide his bulging eyes, she catches them, along with the bulging in his pants.
He raises his brows in amusement and a lopsided grin pulls at the corners of his pink lips. He tilts his head like she did. “Do you only sleep naked when your air con is broken? Thought that’s something people living alone normally did? Freeing and all. I do it,” he shrugs his shoulders. He’s subtly prying, trying to learn if she still lives alone in that cutsey townhouse just twenty minutes away, or if she’s got a man on the scene.
He watches the apples of her cheeks twitch and he wonders if she’s imagining him sleeping naked. She is. He smirks to himself at the thought of what she must be mustering up in that pretty little head of hers. 
It’s nothing new between the two; occasional flirting and topics that definitely should not be discussed between a boss and his secretary. He likes to watch her squirm and splutter and innocently reply in a way that has blood rushing to his cock. 
He’s always observed her closely during these types of interactions, knows how to read her body language. He’s come to learn when she feels uncomfortable, and she’s never shown any signs of discomfort during said topics.
“And it would be freeing if I didn’t have a friend staying with me that often forgets to knock on my bedroom door before storming in,” she chuckles dryly, wondering if her words would rile him up or not. 
She doesn’t know why they would. 
She figures it’s all just harmless banter between the two; a little bit of flirtatious teasing to loosen them up when things get a little stressy. She’s dead certain someone as successful as him would never actually want anything romantic with his fucking assistant.
His brows raise higher than before, can feel his hand ball into tightly clenched fists and he clears his throat, gritting his teeth behind a hard smile. “Oh? You’ve got a friend staying with you?” he asks in a soft tone that doesn’t suggest he’s pissy that her friend gets to see her naked and between her sheets. 
He wonders what else she does naked between the sheets in the dead of night when she can’t sleep. 
She nods, soft hum verberating in her closed mouth as she types something quickly on her computer. “Yeah, he just broke up with his girlfriend so he’s staying at mine until he can get his stuff out and move into the new flat he’s found.” She watches him inhale a shaky breath through his flared nostrils and avert his gaze to the wall behind her.
She’s got a glimmer of a smirk on her lips, eyes light and playful but he doesn’t notice that. Rhysand’s too caught up with the newfound knowledge that it’s a male friend that’s walking in on her naked. 
She wonders if he’s imagining her naked in bed… or maybe entertaining the idea of her fucking her friend one night when he walks in on her. She thinks that might be it but it doesn’t explain why he looks royally pissed… dare she say; jealous?
She tilts her head when he looks back down at her, jaw still set and he clears his throat, seemingly trying to cool himself down. His elbows are bent as his forearms rest on the top of his desk, his back arched just slightly. 
“Not got anyone else he can stay with? What did they break up for?” he pushes further, hopes she’ll turn around and say it’s because he realised he’s gay. She doesn’t.
Instead, Y/N shrugs her shoulders and her elbow leans on the desk, her chin sitting in the palm of her hands as she gazes up at him leaning on the second level of her station. 
“Things weren’t working, he didn’t wanna be tied down just yet. Wanted to have a bit of fun before settling.” She can see the gears in his head turn and tick away as he hums absentmindedly.
She tries not to squint at him, to gauge his reaction and decipher what the meaning behind his distant gaze is. She tries not to look too closely into his blushing cheeks and set jaw. She tries not to let herself fantasise about him being jealous and wanting her to himself. She tries, but it doesn’t work.
Rhysand hums, nodding as if he gets it and maybe he does. She knows all about his one night stands and sleepless nights at the strip clubs he frequents. She also knows about the countless booty calls that tend to frequent his office, only for him to ask her to call security to escort the women out. 
And she absolutely should not find great joy in watching them huff as security links their beefy arms in their dainty ones, but she does.
Y/N thinks she keeps that secret to herself, but more times than not, Rhysand’s seen the hint of a smirk tug at the corner of her lips when he leans on the doorframe of his office. He knows she doesn’t notice him watching her, he likes knowing she thinks he doesn’t see things. He sees it all.
“Well hopefully he’ll be out of your hair soon enough,” he proposes and she has a sneaky suspicion that he’s subtly asking how long he’ll be staying with her. Which is exactly what he’s doing. Y/N hums again and shrugs her shoulders. 
“Actually, I don’t mind him being there, I quite enjoy the company. Gets a bit lonely in the evenings sometimes, to be honest,” she baits.
She watches with a small smirk as Rhys inhales a deep and hollow breath, bowing his head a little so his chin almost rests against his black tie, his jaw knocking against his shirt collar. She doesn’t know where this sudden confidence is coming from. Can she even call it confidence? She isn’t flirting, just baiting him to gauge his reactions.
“Don’t fancy going out with your girlfriends?” He tries to steer away from the topic of other men in her life, but Y/N isn’t finished just yet. 
“Sometimes, on the weekends, sure. But it gets a bit annoying when guys don’t know how to take a hint and keep trying to hit on you all night,” she sighs in fake annoyance and she’s certain she sees red flash through Rhysand’s eyes.
She lets herself think he’s jealous, protective. The thought of her boss thinking of her in a sexual manner and hating the idea of other men being in her home or hitting on her is exciting. It’s a thrilling rush of blood that causes tingles between her thighs and has her pressing them together beneath her desk.
Rhysand’s none the wiser. His fists clench at the image of another man dancing up her but his cock bloats at the thought of her dancing on a night out. No doubt in a short and tight dress. He knows tonight he’ll let himself think he can feel the swell of her ass rubbing against his crotch, let himself think he can taste her lips on his tongue.
He doesn’t say anything else and Y/N thinks he’s thoroughly fucked in his head. “Well, I’ve emailed over your schedule for the morning. Have a good day, Rhys.”
//
Through the rest of the morning, Rhysand struggles to focus on anything that isn’t her. He’s had two conference calls and for both video meetings from his office, he’s been leaned over in his chair with a strained neck, trying to catch sight of what she’s doing at her desk through the thin window in his door. 
He was more than thankful when the calls ended because when she sat on her knees on her chair and leaned over the top of the desk, her tits almost spilled out of her blouse and Rhysand spent the rest of the hour sporting a rock hard boner.
He thinks she’s doing it on purpose when she comes into him after her lunch break. She’s taken her hair out of her ponytail and it falls in loose waves down her shoulders. 
She enters his office with her hands full of paperwork that just so happen to stop beneath the swell of her breasts so they’re able to sit on the pile; all perky and swollen. She’s got a shy smirk on her lips, too. Like she knows she’s taking her end of the teasing a little further and she lets out a little huff of relief after she plops them onto his desk.
Rhys doesn’t try to hide his stare on her chest and she wonders if he catches her staring at the thick bulge in his pants. Neither parties say anything to the other but as their eyes meet, it’s like an unspoken understanding is pieced together. 
A silent acknowledgement that they both know what the other is doing and that they’re more than okay with it. Like all lines between them are completely blurred and any boundaries are ready to be pushed aside.
He watches her hips sway as she leaves his office, closing the door behind her when she leaves. His neck cranes again as he leans to his side in his swivel chair, watching her type something on her computer through the window again. 
Her brows are furrowed softly as she stands and rounds her desk, meeting his gaze through the thin glass and walking past his office completely. He tries to watch her but she disappears from his line of sight and an email pings through his laptop.
Y/N: Meet me in the copy room.
He’s leaping out of his chair before he can even push himself away from his desk. His strides are long and quick as he rips his office door open and slams it closed behind him. He clears his throat and avoids the gaze of his employees, ignores the ogling looks he earns from the women he knows touch themselves to the thought of him late at night.
Rhysand sneaks his way into the copy room, kicking the door closed behind him. She stands in front of him, leaning against the copier with a flirtatiously shy smile. He reaches blindly behind him and twists the lock, his bottom lip taut between his teeth as he ogles her shamelessly. She feels shy under his gaze, knowing he doesn’t care to hide how attracted he is to her.
She doesn’t have time to feel awkward or rake her brain for something to say because he’s rushing toward her and with both large hands caressing her cheeks, his lips are smearing against hers. 
Y/N reaches up and tangles her fingers in his messily styled hair, twisting the curls and tugging softly. His hands leave her face in desperation as they pinch at her hips before rounding her body and squeezing deliciously at her ass.
She tastes like strawberries; her tongue swirling against his. His mind is swimming and all he wants to do is taste her little honey pot, wants to know if she tastes as sweet down there as she does on her tongue. 
She’s no better. His tongue works skilfully against her, licking into her warm mouth and nibbling softly at her bottom lip. She can’t help but suckle filthily on his tongue, wishing to God she was on her knees as he fucks her mouth.
Both of their minds are hazy; like everything they feel is overwhelming and yet not enough all at once. Y/N feels the pulsing between her thighs, can feel her little lace panties soaking up her arousal and Rhysand’s cock is painfully hard in his pants—knows his tip is fucking leaking and no doubt a delicious purple shade.
“God, I‘ve been wanting to do this for so long,” he admits gruffly into her mouth, grabbing handfuls of her ass over her skirt but it’s too tight for him to spread her cheeks like he fucking needs to. 
Y/N whimpers into his mouth and he hikes her up and onto the desk, just beside the copier machine. He rolls her skirt up her thighs until it’s bunched tightly around her waist. Her clothed pussy sits against the cold wood and she shudders, tugging him between her spread legs.
“Why didn’t you?” She breathes heavily into the kiss. 
His hands are gripping at her thighs; the cool metal of his rings sending chills through her body and she’s desperately stripping him from his suit jacket. He groans, hands rushing back up to her face to cup her jaw while he struggles to fight against her to keep his jacket on. 
He kisses her lips and pulls away, mind foggy but he wants to take his time with her, not have a quick fuck in the copy room and never again after that.
“Didn’t know if you wanted it, too,” he breathes, warm breath fanning across her lips and she reaches up blindly to kiss him again. Her eyes are hooded, lips swollen, and Rhysand’s fucked at the sight of her. 
“I do want to, if it wasn’t already obvious,” she groans shyly, a heavy heat sitting on her cheeks and he chuckles, ego inflating as his cock pulses in his pants.
“I’m gonna fuck you so good, baby,” he promises and her eyes light up before she lets him finish his sentence. “But not here, not now. I want to take my time with you,” he rumbles through his chest, cupping her cheeks again and Y/N pouts breathlessly, her once confident demeanour slowly shifting and she feels a little small under his gaze.
“Fuck me now and take your time with me later,” she bargains, not even the slightest bit ashamed of how forward and desperate she’s letting herself seem. 
He’s no better. The second the words slip from her lips, he’s kissing her again; harder than before. It’s desperate; needy and raw. His fingers are tugging her shirt down and her breasts spill over and out of her bra.
Y/N’s head falls back as he tweaks a taut nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching and twisting as he continues his assault down her lean neck. She’s letting breathy whimpers slip past her lips as her head rolls against her shoulder. Y/N scratches at his back, tugging off his suit jacket and he throws it across the boxed room.
Rhys dips his head from her neck, kissing across her clavicle and nipping at her collarbones. He massages hungry open-mouthed kisses across the swell of her tits, circling her pearled nipple with his skilled tongue and she shudders as he envelopes his lips around it, suckling softly and flicking his tongue.
“Rhys,” she breathes in a wanton pant. 
He feels his cock bloat at the sound of his name slipping past her lips in a desperate whimper. Hearing her shudder his name as he latches on her nipple is something he didn’t know he needed to hear.
“Best tits I‘ve ever seen,” he mumbles as he pulls off her with a kiss to her areola, biting at her cleavage. 
Y/N’s fingers are desperately fumbling with his tie, tugging it loose and popping open a few buttons. Rhysand doesn’t give her the time or chance to open more than two before he’s shoving her tiny lace panties to the side and swirling his middle finger through her dripping folds.
Rhys groans at the feel of her; soft and warm, completely fucking drenched. The tip of his finger teases at her hole, swirling around her soaked folds but she wants more, needs it. He seems to sense her desperation because, without a second longer of anticipation, he pushes his finger in and massages at her squishy walls.
He splutters pathetically against her chest, his grip on her hip tightening as he slowly pumps his digit in and out of her dripping heat. 
“Oh shit, you’re so tight,” he groans, completely fucking mesmerised by the way her little pussy is clenching onto him. 
He wonders if his cock will even fit. She shudders breathlessly, thighs willing to clench shut but he doesn’t let them.
His fingers are much longer than hers; hitting deeper than she’s ever able to in the dead of night when she can’t sleep. Her head falls back and Rhysand latches his lips onto her neck, pulling out so his fingertip rests at her hole before he lunges back in with a second digit.
They’re twisting in a ‘come hither’ motion, pads of his fingertips massaging at her squishy spot and she’s quivering and trembling under his touch. Her clit feels like it’s on fire, angry and desperate from the neglect it’s facing so she sneaks a hand between their bodies, holding her weight on one arm as she leans back, and offers herself a pinch of relief.
It’s a filthy fucking sight for Rhys to be privy to; watching her little fingers rub deliciously at her soaked, swollen clit. He’s painfully hard but fuck, he wants to see her cum all over his hand before he releases his bloated cock. 
“Fuck, Rhysand… oh shit,” she’s gasping frantically, legs twitching and toes curling.
He can’t help but wonder how long it’s been since someone last touched her this good. He’s only had his hands on her for a couple of minutes and he can feel how close she is to her tipping point, how badly she needs to explode. He wonders if he’s about to make her cum harder than she ever has before.
She’s getting loud, too vocal for them to get away with the quick rendezvous they’re playing at. It’s when he tests the waters and scissors his fingers before picking up his pace that she falls uncontrollable with the desperate cries and filthy whines. 
He has no other choice than to shove her until her back is pressed against the desk and he’s leaning over her trembling body to press a hand over her mouth.
Y/N’s muffled moans vibrate against his palm and he watches the delicious sight with a deep hunger in his eyes. His teeth are gritted, breaths and grunts seething between them at the sight of her tits bouncing across her chest. 
“Cum, gonna cum!” he hears her muffled voice beg into his hand, a smug grin tugging helplessly at the corners of his lips and he coaxes it out of her.
“That’s it, baby. Cum for me. Gonna cum all over my fingers like a good girl? My good girl?” he spurs her on, eyes rolling at the sensation of her tiny pussy spasming around his thick fingers and fuck, he’s sure he’s about to cum in his pants over it.
Y/N thrashes against the table, chasing her high as he finger fucks her through it. The sounds are obscene; muffled pleas and filthy squelching noises that sound from her messy cunt.
He slows his pace and lets her calm from her orgasm, nosing through her chest and he smears his parted lips across her tits, his tongue sitting on his bottom lip as he does so. Rhysand suckles gently on her pearled nipple as he moves his hand from her mouth and she’s tangling her fingers in his hair, deep breaths causing her chest to ripple.
Y/N’s eyes are fluttering, dazed and overwhelmed and they both know her legs are still trembling in the after-shock. She’s still desperate, though – inhibitions out the window and she no longer wants to play coy or hard to get. She wants his cock and she wants it shoved so deep inside of her that she won’t be able to walk for weeks.
“Please,” she murmurs through half-lidded eyes. Rhys’ brows furrow gently as he pulls off her chest, licking his lips and trying to chase her wanton gaze. When he finally does, he notices just how flushed and fucked she is. He’s a little taken back, if he’s honest. He knows the effect he has on women in the bedroom, but none quite like this for a quick fingerbang in the copy room.
Rhysand reaches for her face, cupping her jaw in his palm and she finally meets his eyes. She’s blinking back rose-tinted hues of arousal to try and see him clearer, but even when her vision isn’t stained with lust, he still looks ravishing and it’s painful.
“Please, what, Miss Y/L/N?” he teases.
Rhysand’s got a sick grin on his face at the way her entire body shudders at his tone and choice of words. She’s a whimpering mess again but he’s barely got his hands on her – one on her hip and the other cupping her jaw. 
“Use your words,” he coaxes. Her lashes flutter angelically across her cheekbones and her lips blabber open and closed like a helpless fish out of water.
“Fuck, need you inside of me. Want your cock.” Y/N’s shuddering at her own choice of words. She’s always loved a bit of dirty talk but not once has it ever really come into play with past partners and if she’s honest, she feels way too shy and filthy. But she fucking loves it.
She loves the way he takes a deep breath – the way he growls to himself to try and fix his composure. She thinks he’s about to give into her, pound her raw and have her sobbing for more, baby, please, I need more! But what she gets is the complete opposite.
Rhysand’s lips hover over her ear, nosing at her neck on his way up before he’s nibbling his way across her jaw until his lips ghost hers.
“Not when you’re so fucked out, Princess. Let me come home with you tonight, back to your place. I’ll be your company,” he nips at her bottom lip, nosing at her jaw again and her head flutters back for a moment, eyes rolling. 
“My place? But my – my friend is there…” she trails off breathlessly, struggling to keep her grip on reality when Rhys begins to suck a bruise against her neck.
He pulls away with a sly grin, eyes hooded and dark and her lashes flutter as she drinks him in. He reaches forward and nips at her bottom lip again. “I know.”
//
She’s nervous as she climbs into his car. He insisted he drive them home and back to work tomorrow morning, which means he plans on staying the night and Y/N is not opposed to that in the slightest. 
But her nerves are getting the best of her when he reaches across the console and lets his hand rest on her thigh, squeezing generously and gnawing on his own bottom lip.
Her mind is working so hard on overdrive that she can’t even focus on one thing to worry about. Rhysand on the other hand, has one thing on his mind and one thing only. Her. 
Excitement is rushing through his veins and he’s sure he can hear his heartbeat in his ears. Blood is rushing to his thick cock and all he can think about is her sweet pussy and how it’ll taste when he has her sitting on his face; the only seat she’ll ever want and need.
They make it to her townhouse in no time and she’s clambering out of the car before he has the chance to switch the engine off. He knows she’s just as nervous as she is excited but he doesn’t say anything on the matter – at least, not yet. 
He follows her up the steps to the door, arms shaking around her waist and he kisses across the exposed expanse of her neck, flicking his tongue over the fresh bruise that’s darkened as the day dwindled on.
Neither of them seem to care that it’s still partly daylight and wandering eyes are no doubt watching on with sickening glances and judgemental stares. Y/N struggles to unlock the front door, too busy trying not to roll her head back in pleasure and anticipation. She loosens up a little as he licks wet stripes up her neck, nibbling on the tender skin and the second the door is open, he’s pinning her against it as it slams shut behind them.
His mouth is on her neck, suckling and licking his way up to her jaw, nipping at the curved edge before he licks across the shell of her ear. “Gonna have you dripping on my cock and screaming in my mouth, Princess,” he promises. His tone is dirty, dark and raspy and Y/N’s thinks she’s ready to submit to absolutely anything he fucking wants.
She’s pathetic, really – nodding frantically – eager to please. She doesn’t make an effort to hurry them to her bedroom. She’s too caught in the moment Rhysand thinks he wants to have her friend catch her being fucked roughly against her front door, let him know she’s already being treated as good as it fucking gets.
“Please, Rhys. Need it so bad, please,” she blabbers wetly. 
He kisses her quickly; hot and sticky. Their tongues are dancing a frantic rhythm but their lips still manage to mould and fit like puzzle pieces. Rhysand’s hands are hot on her waist, trailing up her body until he cups beneath the swell of her pretty tits.
“Please, what? What do you need, my love?” he coaxes, suckling on her bottom lip and she’s got half a mind to push him to his knees and hike her thighs over his shoulders. But she doesn’t have the will power or the guts and she’d much rather him dominate the absolute shit out of her.
His demeaning tone has her shaking – nimble fingers trying to tug and claw at the expensive blazer of his suit. She doesn’t know if it excites or frustrates him, but it does spur him on to tear her pretty blouse open and rip her bra in two. 
He ignores her shriek of shock and latches his wet mouth to her tit, sucking her hardened nipple between his lips and rolling his tongue across it.
Y/N’s head rolls back and knocks against the front door, wanton whimpers and yelps shrieking from her throat. Rhysand spares no expense – he’s grunting and moaning, coursing vibrations and shrills through her body that has her pulsing core blazing. She feels like she’s on fire and Rhysand feels like a starving man that’s finally about to eat a three course meal.
First, he’ll make her cum with his fingers. Then with his cock. And for dessert, he’ll have her on his face while he laps up everything else she has to offer. But Rhys doesn’t take into consideration that maybe she wants to taste him, too.
“Need your cock in my mouth.”
The filthy admission takes him back and for a split second, he’s stunned. Rhys halts his attack on her chest and leans back to get a proper look at her. Y/N’s eyes are blazing a fiery red, one that screams need and touch. She’s fucked, utterly. Messy hair and smeared lip gloss across the lower half of her face.
His own eyes are hooded as he watches her very slowly slide down the door. Her knees are bending and he knows what’s coming, what she’s trying to do. Rhysand has half a mind to stop her, to remind her who’s in charge and that he just wants to taste her, to make her feel good. 
The other half tells him to tear out her hair band and hold her hair and head in place with his fist, tells him to let her stuff her mouth with his length by the front door and pray and hope her friend just so happens to be home.
Her shaky hands are unbuckling his belt, tugging down his zipper. Her knees hit the entrance carpet and she reaches back behind her to tug her hair completely loose from her elastic. Rhysand watches, chin meeting his chest, as she massages out the kinks before throwing it over her shoulder.
He can’t stop staring at her as she tugs his pants down just enough to palm over the thick and hard bulge in his boxers. He makes no effort to bite back a grunt and the soft whine that follows. Rhys’ eyes are on her but she’s got her gaze focussed on his clothed cock.
Y/N leans forward, nosing at his thick length. Her mouth is parted; bottom lip dragging a wet strip across the expensive, cotton material as she makes her way up for the little strip of thin hairs that dust down to his sweet spot. When she gets to the top of the elastic, her tongue slips from her mouth and a bold, wet stripe is licked fatly up to his bellybutton.
She feels him shudder, hands on the fronts of his thighs and they creep up to the waistband of his boxers. Rhysand’s got one hand tangled in her hair, blunt nails scratching at her scalp and the other is leaning against her front door, supporting his crushing weight up.
“Are you gonna take all of me, baby?” he coaxes. 
Spit begins to well in her mouth as she tugs his boxers down and she’s finally face to face with her boss’ thick, long cock. He’s massive, that much she’s certain of and the way his tip glistens an angry pink proves he’s just as eager as she is. She wonders if he’s been as hard since the copy room earlier today.
Rhysand’s tugging at her hair, trying to get her to focus on the situation at hand rather than ogling at his cock. He usually wouldn’t mind, but right now he’s far too desperate to be lodged down her warm throat to think about anything else. His cock twitches as it slaps at his lower abdomen, leaving damp trails of precum in his tip’s wake.
It’s standing tall when Y/N leans forward on her knees. She’s got her palms bracing her weight on his thick thighs and her tongue sits on her bottom lip, licking a bold and wide strip up the entire eight inches of his thick length. Rhysand’s grunting when her tongue swirls around his head before she’s suckling the soft flesh into her mouth.
Her cheeks are softly hollowed and gentle hums of approval sound around him at the salty taste that sits heady on her tongue. Her lips are stretched around his puffy head, the actual width of him nearly choking her but fuck, if she doesn’t love it with every ounce of her dirty little soul.
She’s got those innocent doe eyes staring up at him while she suckles on his length. Relaxing her throat to take him a little deeper, Y/N pumps in a firm fist what she can’t fit; twisting her wrist. 
Rhys can’t keep his fucking eyes off her – puffy lips swollen and stretched and if he sees another dribble of saliva drip from her lips and down the valley of her tits, he’s gonna cum straight down her throat.
“Fuck, such a good mouth. So fucking good, Princess,” he goads. 
He’s gnawing hard on his bottom lip, mouth salivating at the sight of his pretty little secretary on her knees with her mouth stuffed with his cock. Rhysand can’t help his ego from inflating when she lets him guide his hips until he hits the back of her throat, choking her lightly and she splutters around his length.
It’s filthy – the noises her mouth and his cock are making – but Rhysand’s living for it. Pools and dribbles of saliva and precum are spilling and bubbling from the corners of her mouth and the swells of her tits are soaked from it alone. She’s comfy on her knees now and takes her free hand from his thigh to tug his pants and boxers down further.
She’s picked up her pace, sucking harder and fisting the few inches she can’t take. Y/N’s hand snakes further down and reaches around a little until she’s cupping and massaging his aching balls, coaxing the release she knows he’s about to give her. His taste is getting saltier on her tongue and his hips are staggering with each gentle thrust he offers into her throat.
Rhys’ grip on her hair is hard and tight, knuckles bumping at her skull as he tries to drill her head closer to him, to force more of him down her throat. As much as she tries to relax herself, she can’t take him all and she wants nothing more than to bury her nose in the short hairs that lead from his bellybutton to his shaft.
“Such a good girl for me. Sucking me so fucking well, gonna cum,” he warns and praises the young woman and she comes off him with a frantic gasp. 
Her eyes are watering and his cock is soaked, but that doesn’t stop her from spitting the rest of his arousal on his length and pumping him as quickly as she can.
She’s got that confidence about her again as she focuses on his tip, fisting both hands around his throbbing cock as she smears her swollen lips across his sensitive head. She smacks it against her tongue, offering hollow sucks to guide him over the edge.
Rhys’ got his forehead resting against the door and he’s grunting and groaning, biting back animalistic moans. He can’t wrap his head around it, the most sloppy and incredible blowjob he’s ever had. 
“Wanna taste it. Cum, Rhysand,” she whines greedily, one hand leaving his cock to tear her blouse open just enough for her tits to spill out of it. “Cum all over my tits, baby.”
His orgasm washes over him with a heady grunt and hot spurts of white ribbons that smother her tits perfectly. She’s standing on her knees, using the tip of his aching cock as a paintbrush to smear his cum across her lustful chest. He’s smashing his head against the door, trying to blink away the orgasmic-bliss he’s been thrown in and take a grip of reality again.
When he finally looks down at her, stepping back a little from the door, he’s panting and twitching and she’s licking her lips clean. Y/N’s got that innocent sparkle sitting in her eyes again. Rhysand has to shake his head and let out an exasperated laugh. He’s smoothing down her tangled and matted hair and guiding her back to her feet.
“So fucking sexy,” he groans when he takes note of her cum-smothered tits. 
His lips are smearing against hers greedily, and there’s something so exciting and erotic about tasting himself on her sweet tongue. Her hands are soaked and sticky but she still tangles them in his hair to kiss him harder.
She’s too fucking horny to feel shy or embarrassed about what she’s just done against her front door. “Gonna fuck me now? Thought you promised me you’d fuck me with your cock?” she whispers tauntingly against his lips and he grins, still completely fucked out.
Even though he’s painfully hard again, he doesn’t have it in him to sheath himself in her tight little cunt just yet. He’s got stamina, but his poor cock can’t recover from a blinding orgasm like that too quickly. He nods, hands on her ass and he’s groping like a starved man. 
“And I will, Princess. But you got a taste of me, it’s only fair I get a taste of you, don’t you think?” he teases.
She’s putty in his hands, though – nodding breathlessly as her nose bumps his. She can feel his hard cock against her middle and he gives her pert ass a spank, enticing a high whine from her raw lips. 
“Suppose you better show me to your room then, my love… unless you want your friend to come and watch?” he offers, like he wouldn’t be opposed in the slightest.
If Rhysand’s honest, maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d gladly let her friend watch him absolutely ruin her tight cunt.
“Put your cock in your pants,” she breathes, the firm order doing nothing but coaxing dribbles of precum from his dick. He shoves himself back in his boxers but makes no attempt to button up his trousers while she covers her chest again.
Y/N’s got her hand in his as she leads him up the steps of her townhouse, hips swaying more than usual and Rhysand knows, but he’s too horny to tease her for it. All he can think about is having that ass sat on his face and he’s salivating at the thought of her taste.
He doesn’t take in the decor on the walls or the frilly rug on the floor of the hall. He doesn’t even take in the style of her bedroom when she shoves him inside and kicks the door closed. Rhysand, instead, is too busy tearing her blouse open and ignoring the buttons skidding across her oak floors.
She’s no better, eager to get him naked and claw at his tattooed chest. They’re both naked in seconds, hands all over the other in a desperate attempt to get off. She’s guiding him to her bed, tits in his face and he paws at her breasts as she straddles his lap. She expects him to pin her down, to devour her little cunt but he doesn’t.
He kisses her lips and grips her thighs – laying on his back with his head on her pillow and tugging her up his body and she starts to get the hint when she stops on his chest. Rhysand’s frowning, kneading at her thighs and jutting his chin in the air a little.
“Told you I wanted a taste, now come and sit on your throne, Princess.” She’s giddy with excitement and arousal, head cloudy and she lets him guide her up the rest of his body. 
Her entire pussy is slick and swollen when her knees rest either side of his head. He loops his arms around her legs and rests his hands on her ass, squeezing and massaging her cheeks.
“Fucking look at you, baby. So wet and so soft,” he coos, craning his head up to suck bruises on her thighs. Y/N’s got her fingers tangled in his messy dark locks and when he spreads her ass apart, she falls a little and her soaked cunt sits on his face.
Rhysand’s mouth wastes no time, sucking and licking and nibbling at her hole and clit. He’s swirling wet strokes through her folds, deep and long. Her sweet scent is heavy on his tongue and he’s got his eyes squeezed shut in pure bliss. Y/N is a mess above him – head thrown back and fingers tugging at his unruly locks.
“Oh my God,” she whines, breathing erratically but Rhysand’s having the time of his life. 
She shudders as he brings a hand down on her ass, her meaty flesh jiggling before he’s grabbing it again and pulling her apart and further up his face. He’s got a knot in his brow, tongue circling at her weeping hole and he can’t get enough of her taste.
“So good, so fucking good. Don’t stop,” she begs, desperate and eager. 
Rhys lets his tongue trail up the length of her pussy until the flatness of his tongue is rubbing at her swollen clit, enticing moan after filthy moan to slip from her silky tongue. He wraps his mouth around her little nub, sucking and nibbling and she’s seeing stars.
Y/N can’t seem to catch her breath and she’s rolling her hips on his face like she fucking owns him. Rhysand comes off her clit with a little pop, open-mouthed kisses smeared over her dripping cunt and he sucks a swollen lip into his mouth, biting teasingly and she gasps into the dim room.
Her nipples have puckered in the cool air and one hand leaves his head to tweak and pinch at one of the neglected nubs. She’s trembling on his face, thighs clenching around his head as he kneads and spanks at her ass. Rhysand’s grunting deliciously into her cunt, sending vibrations through the woman’s core and egging her on.
He knows she’s close, knew he wouldn’t have to be between her thighs for too long after she came so quickly from his fingers earlier in the copy room, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t gladly spend hours devouring her. She’s sweet – sweeter than he hoped and expected – and it’s better than any feeling he’s ever had before. Sweet like watermelon with a tangy hint.
It’s fucking intoxicating and when she cums, it only tastes better. “I’m cuming, oh shit, oh God…” Y/N can’t think straight. 
Her vision is blinding by streaking light that blocks her sight and the wanton and borderline pornographic moans are music to Rhysand’s ears. She’s shaking, body jolting and when Rhys opens his eyes to watch her unravel on his tongue, all he sees is her head rolling back and the underswell of her tits bouncing before her back coils and she hunches into herself.
He’s lapping her of every single last drop she has, desperate to have her taste lingering on his tongue for as long as he possibly can. His cock is overly bloated and sticky as precum sticks to his lower abdomen but maybe his ego is even more bloated, knowing he didn’t even have to use his fingers to get her quivering and begging above him.
“Fuck,” she gasps in a slow drawl. 
Her voice is deep and raspy, like she’s seething as she tries to catch her breath and stop the shakes from taking over in her post-orgasmic state. Rhysand’s kitten licking her softly, moving his head to bite playfully at the thickness of her inner thighs and he traces over a soft, faded stretch mark with his tongue.
“Sweetest fucking pussy I‘ve ever tasted,” he groans in approval. 
Rhys maneuvers them both so she’s pressed against the mattress, and even in her fucked-out, overly-blissed state, she’s still whining and eager for his cock again. She’s insatiable and Rhysand can’t help the amused chuckle that slips from his lips.
“So fucking desperate, Princess,” he taunts.
He takes a moment to admire her, take her all in. Her pussy is swollen, soaked still and he can almost see her clit pulsing as her hole clenches. Her chest is rattling in deep breaths and her eyes are lidded heavily as she creeps her foot up his thigh, reaching for his hard cock.
He hums appreciatively, spreading her bent knees open and crawling between her legs again. He’s got a hand resting by her head to support his weight – the other gripping her chin in his hold and he forces her mouth open as he lets saliva well in his mouth.
She gets the hint, knows what he’s about to do and she’s desperate to get a taste of herself from him. Y/N’s tongue falls out flat on her bottom lip, eyes a little wider and she holds his firm gaze when he spits on her tongue and forces her mouth closed again. 
The sweetness of her arousal is heavy in her mouth and she swallows what he offered before her lips part again and her tongue is licking up at his stubbly chin, reaching for his lips.
Rhysand’s eyes are blazing, dick twitching against her thigh and he kisses her hard, teeth clashing and tongues dancing an uncoordinated rhythm, but it works. Y/N suckles on his tongue as he groans, pinching at her nipple before he reaches down to palm his cock some.
“Need to get a condom,” he breathes into her mouth but she’s shaking her head. He leaves his cock and reaches for her cunt, attending to her fiery clit that’s far too sensitive but she welcomes the touch, nonetheless. 
“Wanna feel you,” she admits, no shame in the embarrassingly desperate statement and Rhysand thinks he’s about to fucking explode on her cunt before he even gets a proper feel of it.
He wants to, needs to feel her slick and velvety walls hug and suck him in, wants to be consumed by her heat and arousal but even in his lust-filled state, his brain is still turned on. He shakes his head painfully. 
“Next time,” he offers, doesn’t miss the way Y/N’s eyes light up at the insinuation but she nods with a desperate, laboured breath.
She reaches to her side for her nightstand, retrieving a foil packet from the top drawer and she rips it open with her teeth before Rhysand can take it from her. His eyes are wide when she tugs it from the packaging and reaches down for his cock. She pinches the tip of the condom and rolls it over his thick head, sliding it slick down his shaft and he’s grunting in pleasure over the act.
“Fuck. You’re so sexy,” he mutters gruffly against her lips and she whimpers, eyes rolling back at the sheer tone of his voice. Her legs are spread wide as he reaches for his cock and rubs himself up and down her folds a few times.
Y/N’s giddy with excitement, pussy clenching in anticipation and he slowly rolls his hips forward, his fat tip nudging through the tight entrance ring of her pussy and she shudders a gentle shriek at the obvious intrusion.
“Oh, fuck!” she gasps out. 
Her chest is already heaving when he begins to sheath himself in, spreading her wide and drilling in deep. Y/N’s eyes have rolled to the back of her head and her toes have curled inwardly and just how much he’s filling her up.
Rhysand’s no better – teeth gritted and eyes clenched shut. His grip on her hips have his knuckles turning white but neither of them seem to mind the bruises that’ll be apparent in the morning. She’s tight around him, warm and slick and even with the condom, he can feel every pulse her pussy offers.
Rhys rolls his hips slowly, getting her used to his thick girth and generous length. Y/N’s clawing at his shoulders with each soft whine until his pace begins to pick up and the bed starts to rock. Her tits are bouncing on her chest, nipples hard and desperate for a good sucking.
He manoeuvres his body to lean his head down, biting on her hard nub and sucking. “Shit, you’re so fucking big, oh my God,” she praises through a strangled moan. He’s snapping his hips, grunting and smirking against her slobbery tits. 
His tongue is flicking over her nipple in quick strokes as his teeth bite softly but she’s keening at the blissful shoots of pain.
“Tight pussy, baby. Tightest fucking pussy I‘ve ever had.” He pops off her breast and smears his lips against hers. 
She can still taste him on her tongue and the feel of his lips on hers is overwhelming. His thick cock is brushing against all the good spots and she can’t wrap her head around how sex could ever feel this good.
“Faster, please, faster. Just like that,” she begs out through another broken moan. He’s seething through gritted teeth as he wills back his animalistic grunts, drills his hips in quicker thrusts and the wet squelches of his cock and her pussy is music to both of their ears.
“Hear that? Hear how fucking wet you are?” he teases, leaning back and shuffling until he’s on his knees between her quaking thighs. “Fuck, you fit me so fucking good, Princess.” He’s gnawing down on his bottom lip, likely drawing blood but he can’t bring himself to care.
Y/N’s got her head thrown back in her pillows, eyes rolled to the back of her head as her lashes flutter like angel wings. “This cunt was fucking made for me,” he growls through gritted teeth as he releases his lower lip. She’s nodding helplessly at his words, crying out in pure ecstasy at the filth he’s talking and she fucking loves it.
“All yours, Rhys. Pussy’s all yours,” she agrees quickly. 
Her voice is broken, high pitched and whiney. Rhysand thinks it’s borderline pornographic and it only makes his cock throb in her cunt. “Fuck,” he seethes, watching the way her full breasts bounce on her chest.
He lets his gaze avert to where they meet – where his thick cock is drilling into her cunt and fucking her into the mattress. He’s completely slick with every thrust that has his dick pulling out of her. His balls are slapping against her ass, slick with her wetness that leaks from her tight hole and even both their thighs are growing sticky from her arousal and their sweat.
Between them, they’re eager messes, desperate for a hot release and it’s haunting the both of them. Rhysand can feel her cunt clench tenderly around him and Y/N can feel his cock twitching between her soft walls. 
“Fuck, can feel you squeezing me baby, making you feel good, Princess?” He knows he’s making her feel fucking heavenly but the narcassist in him needs to hear that bit of praise.
She’s nodding frantically, eager to give him what he wants to hear. “Yes, fuck, yes! So good, Rhys. I love your cock, makes me feel so fucking full.” She’s moaning through every word, sentence broken by wanton cries and pornographic whines. She’s fucking filthy, dribble running down the corners of her lips as she speaks.
Rhysand’s fucked, can feel his release toppling close to the edge but he needs to feel her cum around him first. “Yeah? You like me buried in your tight little cunt, my love? Like feeling me in your fucking tummy?” He sets a firm palm across her stomach, adding just enough pressure to feel himself nudge at her lower abdomen and his head is spinning.
“More, please. I’m gonna fucking cum, Rhys. Make me cum on your cock, make me cum, please.” She’s begging through desperate tears and Rhysand’s ego is through the fucking roof. His eyes are rolling back at the sound of her broken pleads and he leans closer.
He’s got one hand holding his weight by her head, the other locking around her throat. He watches for a moment, still pounding into her, to see if she tells him to stop, tells him she doesn’t like that. But she reaches up and tightens his hold on her throat and her other hand snakes between them to rub feverishly at her swollen clit.
“Harder,” she demands, voice steady and dark and there’s a primal instinct that washes over Rhysand that tells him to fucking obliterate her. He’s choking her as his cock tears into her, weeping in the condom and Y/N’s sobbing beneath him.
Her thighs begin to tremble, eyes rolled right back and she feels like she’s floating. “I’m cuming! Rhys, I’m gonna cum!” Her body convulses under his touch and waves of bliss roll over her. She’s cumming around his cock, shaking and sobbing and whining like a dirty little girl and Rhysand’s living for it.
He fucks her through her state of bliss, grip still tight on her throat until he feels her calm down and he’s ready to explode. Even in her blissed out state, Y/N knows what she wants. She suckles on his thumb as he grips her jaw and takes her spare hand to push him back just enough to pull his cock out of her cunt.
With hooded eyes and swollen lips, she peels off the condom and tosses it to the side. Rhysand’s eyes are blown wide, brows knitted and even in her hazy state she can see how desperate his cock is for a relief.
He’s hissing when she wraps a hand around his wet length and lazily starts pumping his shaft. “If you can’t come in my pussy, I want your cum all over it.” His head falls back at the admission, cock twitching in her hand and it only takes a few futile pumps before she’s smearing his tip across her swollen clit and he’s cumming.
Hot ribbons of clear-ish cum paint her cunt, spilling across her folds and clit in desperate spurts. “Fuck, oh shit. So good, such a good fucking girl,” he’s praising in broken moans and wanton whines.
Y/N’s pussy clenches around nothing as she watches his thick cock slowly soften to one of a slightly smaller size. They’re both fucked out as Rhysand catches his breath and falls to her side, panting and heaving with a sweaty and heavy chest.
She can barely keep her eyes open, thighs still trembling from her post-orgasmic state and Rhysand’s trying to come to terms with what just happened. He’s too infatuated to scold himself for fucking a damn employee. For fucking his secretary.
He can hear her heavy breathing from beside her and he peeks a look, watching her eyes flutter as she stares up at her ceiling. He holds his breath in hopes of hearing any movement on the other side of the bedroom door but all he can hear is his heart hammering through his body.
He takes a heaving breath and looks back up at the ceiling. “You think your friend might’ve heard us?” He speaks up, breaking the silence. He hears her breath stagger and silence before she lets out an uneven sigh and he can feel her chest shaking.
Rhysand turns to her with pinched brows and she’s grinning with eyes squinted shut. “What? What are you laughing at?” She’s giggling again and Rhys sits up to get a better look at her. She’s thoroughly fucked out.
“I don’t have a friend staying with me,” she admits shyly through a broken laugh and it takes Rhysand a hot second to grasp onto what she’s just said. When he does, his eyes widen and jaw falls slack, smirk tugging on the corners of his parted lips.
Y/N turns to him, running a hand through his matted hair and she gnaws on her bottom lip, staring into his fucked out eyes. “Just wanted to try and get you in my bed,” she confesses.
They’re both grinning; Y/N letting out a squealed shriek as Rhysand pounces on top of her and pins her hands above her head, nosing and biting at her jaw and neck. His eyes are gleaming nothing but mischief as his nose knocks hers and he notices the fire in her eyes.
He nips at her lips. “You lied to me? To get me in your bed like I‘m some sort of cheap hooker?” He’s teasing her now and the banter has her stomach flipping. Y/N shrugs, feigning nonchalance, eyes blazing and she licks into his mouth. 
“Worked though, didn’t it?”
Rhysand pulls away from her lips just enough to see the look on her face. She’s shy under his gaze, innocent eyes staring up at him but there’s still that flash of filth and cheekiness that’s loitering behind them and when she gnaws on her bottom lip, Rhysand can’t help but feel completely fucked.
“You little minx.”
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pedroshotwifey · 6 months
Text
Without Words
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This can be seen as a stand-alone but I count it as a part to two this fic
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader
Word count: 2.6k
Tags/Warnings: Oral (m), cock worship, piv sex, rough sex, choking, semi-public sex, sprinkles of feelings, age gap, face fucking, degrading names (affectionate), cum eating, stuff I'm forgetting
Summary: You want to show Joel how much he means to you...but maybe in a less classy way.
A/N: Hey, babes! I hope you enjoy this part! I know a lot of people wanted to see an update, so here we are <3
*****
It’s been another long ass day. You and Joel were able to pick up the same shift, but there was enough work for four people—which is not the norm for the job you’d picked today. It took you three hours too long, but you’d gotten it done. Now that you and Joel aren’t glaring daggers at each other anymore, you’re actually able to be productive. 
You walk hand-in-hand with him now toward your shared apartment. It’s been about a year since the two of you had caved into each other, and things honestly couldn’t be better. You’d had your fair share of fights—which is only to be expected with the attitude you both possess—but things have been good. 
You moved into his apartment a couple of months ago, since he kept having to sneak out of yours too close to curfew. He practically lived at your apartment, even though his was bigger, because he didn’t want to risk you walking home late at night. It was an effortless change for you. 
There was the issue at first about your age difference, and about how people might react when they realize what the two of you had become, but neither of you wanted to let that affect you. It’s the end of the fucking world, as Joel had put it, you both deserve to spend it with whoever you want. 
You look up at him, admiring the way he walks so confidently with you on his arm. Like it’s no big deal at all. It took a little while for people to stop giving the two of you strange looks, but even from the start, he had embraced your relationship with no shame. 
You haven’t even told him you love him yet. 
It’s more of an unspoken thing, you think. Something you show with gifts and actions and physical affection, because deep down, you’re both still broken people in the apocalypse, and you don’t want to admit that you have a weakness. That’s what love is, after all. Just another thing for you to lose. 
“Joel?” 
It’s only now that you finally lose your composure. All damn day, you’ve been distracted, and you can tell he knew that much, but maybe not exactly what the problem was. Maybe it’s that thought—that you haven’t told him how you feel. But you know that you won’t even now. So you’ve been caught up in other ways to show him, to tell him. 
You’ve been thinking about it all night. Ever since the two of you got home from your shift and he shucked his pants off to change. It’s not your fault, really. Not your fault the man has a massive fucking cock that makes a sizable, mouthwatering—and extremely daydream-able—bulge in his boxers. 
You’re not usually a weak woman, but. Shit. Nobody would be blaming you for what you’re about to do if they were in the position to do it. 
“Let me suck your dick,” you whisper up at him, watching his eyes go wide as he snaps his head left and right to make sure nobody heard that. 
The two of you had gone to the last dinner offered at the hall, so it’s pretty dark out, and it’s also been raining for the last hour or so. There are only a few people out other than you since it’s so close to curfew, but Joel’s face still goes a little red at your request. You can’t help but bite your lip to contain your smile. 
It really is funny how flustered he gets about you saying something like that when he’s the one who loves to talk about railing you in public. There’s not a single person under the canopy that you stopped under, but he still lowers his voice as he speaks. 
“Yes fuckin’ please,” he says through a scoff. “But you couldn’t wait to run that filthy little mouth until we got home?” 
You shake your head, smirking at him. You swear you can feel your heart beating against your ribs as you wait for him to understand your request. Your body is going hot from the pure want coursing through your veins. 
“I want it now,” you practically whine as you pull on his arm like a petulant child. His eyes go wide again.
“Now?” he asks, obviously a bit shocked at your sudden desperation. 
You nod at him, licking your lips. 
This time, you catch a small twitch from between his legs before you give him your best doe eyes. You glance at the dark, empty alley a few feet away from you, and his eyes harden. He glances around one more time, clutches your upper arm, and drags you into the concealed space. 
“Shit, baby, just be fuckin’ quick about it,” he mutters as he shoves you down to your knees. You smile devilishly up at him as your hands immediately fly to his zipper. 
You frantically pull them down, the zip getting stuck halfway due to the massive bulge pushing against the denim. Joel hisses and you whimper as you snag it down quickly, not caring if it breaks or not. 
The first time you saw him, you’d had a hard time admitting to yourself that it was the most gorgeous cock you’ve ever laid eyes on. It took a minute for you to understand that he wasn’t a threat, and only then did you allow yourself to appreciate the appendage to the degree that you do now. Since then, you’ve been sure to let Joel know just how much you love it. 
It makes your mouth water as you pull it out from his pants. Girthy and long enough to still almost scare you even at half-mast. You know how it fits inside you though, how good it makes you feel when he’s pummeling it into your sore, stretched cunt at full force. 
You want it to feel as good as you do, to feel the way your wet, hot mouth can wrap around it and slobber on it until Joel’s thick thighs are shaking with need to spill his seed down your welcoming throat. 
The feeling of one of Joel’s hands threading your hair between his fingers and pushing you toward his crotch pulls you out of your daze. 
“You gonna suck it or fuckin’ stare at it?” 
You shoot Joel an annoyed glance and squeeze him lightly in warning. You give in anyway, however. It really doesn’t take much. 
He makes a grunting sound as you take the fat tip of him between your lips, suckling the head and tonguing at his slit as your hand pumps the rest of him. You love the taste of his salty pre-cum on your tongue as you eagerly lap him, trying to get more. 
Joel pushes harder on the back of your head and bucks his hips forward—though you’re not sure if that part is voluntary. Your hand moves back to the root of him, holding tightly and pushing him so that he can’t shove himself into your mouth. 
You pop your mouth off of him, ignoring the string of spit that keeps you connected to his soaked tip. With heavy lids, you glance up at him to find that he’s staring back at you with a look in his eyes that can only be described as fiery. 
“Be patient, old man, I’m trying to enjoy myself.” 
Joel scowls at you. “The fuck you mean enjoy yourself? You’re suckin’ my cock,” he snaps.
“Okay, well I happen to really fucking like sucking your cock, Joel, so be. patient.” 
He rolls his eyes at you and leans his head back against the brick wall behind him. Satisfied that he’s stopped arguing, you go back to his dick, grabbing it so that the underside of it is facing you. 
You lean forward to lick up the entirety of it, coming down to suck and kiss at his balls every couple of strokes. Your head is going a bit fuzzy and your core is throbbing almost painfully with need. 
You can’t stop though, you love the feel of his silky skin on your tongue, the way it moves slightly with each pass of your mouth. You moan loudly against him, enough so that it reaches Joel’s ears through the sound of the heavy raindrops pelting the ground and buildings around you. 
He pulls sharply on your hair, but is unable to pull you away with how tightly you latch on to his thighs. You squeeze your eyes shut and just about double your efforts to ensure he won’t make you stop. 
“Gotta hush, baby. Sound like a fuckin’ whore, moanin’ on my cock like that,” Joel squeezes out at you through gritted teeth. 
“Yeah, but you love it,” you pull away just enough to retort.
“Damn fuckin’ right,” Joel smirks back at you as you get back to work. “Little s-slut just for me.”
When you lean forward this time, you take him fully between your lips, swallowing as much as you can to get him as deep as possible. You know you’re drooling, but you can’t find it in you to care, you’re far too drunk on his taste, his scent, the feel of his cock inside your greedy mouth. 
Joel groans as you suck harshly, resisting the urge to gag as you hold him in your hot mouth and fondle his balls. God, you can’t fucking get enough. You pull back again once you literally can’t breathe, but not before taking his balls into your mouth once a piece. 
“Fucking love your cock, Joel,” you tell him as you stroke him lazily. 
“I know you fuckin’ do, darlin’. Why don’t you show him how much? Make him feel good, hm?” 
You nod eagerly at him and put your mouth back on him, bobbing your head and using your hand to tightly pump what you’re not able to reach. Joel makes a choked sound and grips your hair so tight that tears spring to your eyes. 
The sounds reverberating through the alley are nasty, but it only turns you on more. Between Joel’s bitten-down moans and the sound coming from his dick being slammed down your throat, it’s a fucking symphony in your ears. 
“Shit,” Joel breathes from above you. “Want to be inside you, baby.” 
You shake your head as much as you’re able. You want his cum down your throat, that’s the whole point of this. Twin tears trail down your messed cheeks with the movement, but you keep going at a quick but steady pace. 
He grunts and pulls on you again, and this time, you’re forced to let go. 
“Joooel,” you whine, hands going out to grab at him, only for him to squeeze again and hold you firmly in place. 
“You fuckin’ quit that, now,” he commands, and you do. Albeit reluctantly and with a furious pout. His cock bobs tauntingly in front of you, throbbing and glistening with your saliva. 
“C’mon, princess. Up.” 
You continue pouting but do as he says, letting him haul you up so he can pull your pants and underwear down. You yelp, not expecting that part so quickly. The cool, moist air hits your heated core and you clench your thighs, making it more difficult for Joel to spin you around and shove you against the wall. 
He’s behind you again in a heartbeat, the tip of his cock breaching your tight hole as he presses his entire front to your back. You keen as he slides into you, the stretch making your toes curl in your boots. 
“See?” Joel mutters into your ear. “Shut you up quick, didn’t it?” 
You can only nod as he starts to move inside of you, your slick making it easy for him to build up a quick pace. Your fingers spread out on the brick wall as he grips your hips and thrusts harshly up into you, a sheen of sweat starting to cover your body at the force in which he’s using you with. 
He hits your g-spot each time, making you huff out weak little moans to mingle with his grunts. His heavy balls slap against you with each thrust, making a lewd sound against your soaked seam and sending shocks atop your swollen clit. 
You mewl as your orgasm starts to build, a warmth starting to spread throughout your entire body. And when Joel brings one hand to wrap around your throat, you just about lose it. He squeezes the sides, cutting off your airflow and making your head spin. 
You close your eyes and your senses hone in only on the feeling of his cock spearing into you, the way his grip is so hard on your hip that there are sure to be bruises in the morning. Your head rolls back onto his shoulder and he uses the opportunity to nuzzle your jaw. 
“So s-soft ‘n’ wet for me, ain't ya? Like soaked fuckin’ silk.” 
You whimper as much as you’re able, your body starting to shake as you get closer to the edge. Joel lets his fingers ease up from the grip he has on your throat, allowing air to sweep back into your lungs, and you explode. 
You moan obscenely as you cream on his cock, his hand moving to your clit to thumb tight circles and prolong your pleasure. Your hands move from the wall to grip hard onto his forearms. 
“That’s a good girl,” he growls into your ear. 
“M–Please, Joel,” you whine. “Let me swallow–I–” 
Joel’s dark laugh startles you, but he moves to give you what you want. He pulls his cock out of you, and you suddenly feel empty. You whine despite yourself, but are quickly distracted again by the way he spins you around and shoves you back to your knees, your pants still pulled down around your ankles. 
You watch him dazedly as he fists his drenched cock and then guides it back to your swollen lips. You taste yourself on him as he pumps his hips and glides onto your tongue. He places a hand on the back of your head again, helping you take him. 
“There you go, you fuckin’ cum-hungry little slut.” 
You moan, and you can tell that’s his undoing as the vibrations travel through his length. He shudders and groans into the empty alley as his balls tug up and he spills into your mouth. You greedily drink him down, gripping his thighs and closing your eyes as you focus on not spilling a single drop. 
He pushes your head down until he hits the back of your throat, waiting for you to gag before he slowly pulls all the way back out. You’re both sweaty and panting but you still open your mouth and tilt your head up for approval that you swallowed every bit of his cum. Joel watches you with parted lips and nods. 
“Good job, princess,” he tells you, and you smile. 
“Alright, baby, I gotta get you home before curfew,” he says after a moment. “Let’s get you cleaned up so it doesn’t look like we just fucked in a damn alley.” 
You grin at him and lift your arms for him to help you up again. You don’t tell him that it’s pointless to clean you up since you’ll just end up in the same state once you get home. If there’s one thing that will never dwindle in your relationship, it’s the insatiable hunger that the two of you harbor for one another—and all the messes and mischief that comes with it.
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fancyfeathers · 8 months
Note
Could you do the lawyer of ADA, they deal with Dazai a lot. They managed to get taken by the Guild as a hostage, instead of freaking out they actually relax and treat it like a vacation. Some of the Guild members are confused until ADA calls them to negotiate but Dazai takes over asking about the legal ramifications of a fire he may have caused, but in his defense it was half on fire when he got involved. Fukuzawa grabs the phone off him and requests to speak to Fitzgerald. Instead of tea the lawyer asks for whiskey on rocks.
This has both platonic (children) and romantic (adults) yanderes
You could hear the irritating voice of Dazai from the other end of the the phone, he was so loud despite Fukuzawa having the phone. Fitzgerald sits on the couch across from you, and he even looked annoyed from hearing Dazai’s voice and he’s not even used to it like you. You could hear Fukuzawa’s voice, trying to negotiate with Fitzgerald dispute the chaos in the background. Fitzgerald rubbed his temples before cutting the president off.
“Listen old sport, let me think about your offer and you can call me back once you get a proper handle on your employees.” There was a brief noise on the other end of the line that sounded like yelling but it was cut off by Fitzgerald hanging up. He looked at you and shook his head with that charming smile. “I’ll be honest I don’t know how you deal with that all.”
“It takes the patience of a saint.”
“Then I must be the devil.” He waved over a maid in the room telling her to get him some tea and then he looked at you. “Would you like anything?”
“Whiskey.”
“This early?”
“After that headache I need it.”
Honestly being held captive, if you could call it that, by the Guild, was much better than the in and out of your job at the Armed Detective Agency. You have tried to quit in the past but somehow Dazai would be on the same train you took home, Kenji would run into you at the farmer’s market, or even the siblings at the convenience store by your house which was odd since you lived on the other end of the city that the Agency was on. Those were the milder cases, there were the other times where Kunikida would accidentally run into you in the middle of a job, or when you fell down the stairs in the park and Dr. Yosano just happened to be there. It felt like every misfortune in your life was tied to the agency and they were just pulling you back. Being held hostage was actually nice, sure you had to be under surveillance by some Guild member, normally this was one of two young men, John Steinbeck or Mark Twain, and they were nice enough. But honestly Fitzgerald had you treated very well, not like any other hostage situations you have been in.
“Well while they pull themselves together I have a proposal for you.” Fitzgerald said as the maid went to get your drinks. “The only real reason you’re here is because that’s the only way I could discuss this with you.”
“Smart, but the legal ramifications of it will be-“
“Extreme, I can deal with that, nothing a bit of money can’t erase.” He cut you off, chuckling under his breath. “You know the dirt of the Armed Detective Agency, if you start working for me I can get you out.”
“You want me to betray the agency?”
“I’ve seen your employment records, you have quit from there multiple times, but have always come back within two weeks. Correct me if I’m wrong but you’re trapped and want to get out.”
He was right, you couldn’t even lie about that. You wanted to get out, the detective agency was only going to be a temporary job while you discussed potential employment with law firms in Yokohama and even Tokyo. Those few weeks turned into months, and those months into years, and not one of those law firms wanted to take you, almost that they were afraid of you. You had your suspicions after Dazai was smiling a little too wide after you received another letter of rejection, but you could never confirm it. Your hands curled into fists, grabbing the fabric of the skirt you were wearing.
“…that’s correct.”
“I thought so, well if you agree to this, you will be free from the agency, I will be sure to get U.S. citizenship for you within the week if you so wish for it, and law firms lined up with jobs for you, or if you’d like you could continue work for the Guild and you could have more money than you would know what to do with.” The maid finally came, setting your drinks on the coffee table between the two of you. Fitzgerald picks up your drink and hands it to you and then his cup of tea and takes a long sip. “You’re free to reject, but if you do you’ll have to deal with the agency again, likely for the rest of your life-”
“Deal.” You never answered faster in your life, if you got away from the agency you would be free to spend your life how you wanted. Fitzgerald smiled, but his eyes had a dangerous glint to them.
“Prove it.”
He wanted dirt, so what could you give them? Kenji, Kunikida, Atsushi, Ranpo, and the Tanizaki siblings had next to nothing on them, The President had his past as an assassin, then Yosano who had a bit of a past in the war, there was Dazai with- actually you wouldn’t dare expose that out of fear for your life. Who was left?
Your stomach sank in realization…
But you couldn’t keep living like this…
“Kyoka Izumi, she used to be in the Port Mafia, she was used as an assassin due to her ability and killed a total of 35 people in 6 months.”
You heard the phone ring again, as if almost on cue with your words. You jumped slightly as if you got caught exposing your deepest darkest secret. You watched as Fitzgerald leaned over and picked up the phone and answered as you sipped on your drink in an attempt to calm your nerves. You could hear Fukuzawa say something on the other end of the line, something about an amount of money but Fitzgerald cut him off.
“There has been some changes to the deal old sport, see it seems Miss (Name) doesn’t want to work for you anymore so I have no use for her a hostage anymore.” You watched as Fitzgerald reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a gun, you felt like you were about to be sick. He did not aim it at you though, just at a wall and he shot it off… he made it seem like you died. “Goodbye.”
You could hear the yelling like last time on the other end of the line as he hung up, only now it was panicked and worried, but no matter how much you tried you couldn’t make out the voice of Dazai, that alone made you scared.
Fitzgerald picked up his tea cup again and raised it up in a toast. “Here to new beings.”
With your mind being elsewhere, both in fear, guilt, and relief, you could only manage a small. “ya.”
You did not know what would happen next but at least now you were free, you had your life back again and that was worth celebrating…
“Welcome to the Guild, Miss (Name).”
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sugrhigh · 8 months
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HOTBOX - ( m.s )
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part two
summary- matt finally decides to smoke with his best friends for the first time, and he finds that it’s impossible to keep his eyes off of you
warnings- drug use, swearing, tiny bit suggestive
bff!matt x fem!reader
a/n: WOOOO finally a real piece of writing! i hope u guys enjoy. will possibly do a part two but idk, so if you have requests just ask!
he can’t stop drumming his fingers against the wheel as he steers the car along, desperately trying to relax a little bit and focus on the music that’s blaring through the speakers.
chris sits beside him in the passenger seat, feet up on the dashboard as you guys speed toward your destination. he can hear you and nate conversing in the back, practically shouting at each other over the song.
the waterfront comes into view through his windshield a moment later, moonlight shimmering against the glassy surface. matt takes the next left, swerving across both lanes of traffic to pull into the deserted lot.
there’s nobody on the beach of course, considering it’s almost midnight in the middle of november. he throws the car into park and lowers the volume, shifting in his seat so he can actually see everyone.
“i think that’s the fastest i’ve ever seen you drive, grandpa.” you tease him, unbuckling so you can lean forward in your seat.
he rolls his eyes, though he never actually minds it when you’re the one chirping at him.
“you’re gonna wish it was me once nate gets behind the wheel, i promise.”
“wow, so i volunteer to stay sober and this is the thanks i get?” his friend asks, arms crossed over his chest defensively.
“thank you nate.” you reply in a sing-song voice.
“yeah, yeah. whatever.”
matt watches as you claw through your bag, finally digging out a small blue pouch after a few more seconds of searching.
the moment you unzip it, the all-too familiar smell of weed fills the interior of the car. chris cheers when he sees you pull out a perfectly packed joint, holding it in between your middle and pointer finger with precision.
“you know, it’s really upsetting that you can roll better than me.” nate shakes his head with a sigh.
“aw, you gonna cry about it?” you puff your bottom lip out at him.
“i swear i’ll fucking walk home and leave you guys stranded.”
“sure you will. hold this.” you pass the joint to him before retrieving the lighter.
matt tries to play down the smile that’s beginning to take over his face as you hold it in your palm. he got that one for you on your last birthday. it’s a silver zippo lighter with a big winding dragon engraved on the side.
it was kind of a gag gift just because he knows how much you smoke, but you ended up genuinely loving it way more than he had ever expected.
chris smacks him in the arm gently, and he finally tears his eyes away from you.
“you sure you want to?” his brother double checks, though he doesn’t do a very good job of containing his obvious excitement.
“yup.” matt replies simply, his gaze darting in your direction again.
he’s never once felt pressured to smoke before, but he’s always been a little curious. he’s hung out with the three of you while you’re all stoned enough times to realize that he at least wants to try it.
and sure, maybe a tiny part of him is doing this because he wants to impress you. but what’s the harm in that?
“i’ll start her off, but then it’s coming your way matty b.” you nod at him with a smile, taking the joint back from nate.
his heart is already pounding and all you did was look at him.
you put the filter between your lips and spark his lighter, holding the flame to the end. he watches it burn as you inhale, trying to figure out exactly how he’s supposed to do this when it’s his turn.
you blow the smoke over your shoulder, careful not to do it in anyone’s face. no cough. matt doesn’t even see you flinch.
you take one more quick drag, and he’s already entranced by your fluid movements.
then you stretch your hand out, offering him the next hit as you silently exhale once again. it’s impossible for him to ignore the way he fumbles with your hand before he finally pinches it between his fingers.
it feels awkward, like he’s somehow already doing it wrong.
“just put your lips on it, suck in, not for long though because that’s real shit. then hold it in your throat, inhale it, exhale it.” you instruct him, and his mouth is already dry from the way you’re talking.
there’s something about the commanding edge to your voice that’s driving him crazy. he kind of likes that you’re the know-it-all, the one in control.
“sounds dirty, but you get the point.” chris states with a shrug.
yeah, sounds fucking dirty.
“you got this, don’t even think about it too much.” nate adds encouragingly.
matt bites the bullet, curling his lips around the end and inhaling. he definitely feels the smoke fill his lungs, so he pulls the joint away quickly and practically tosses it to chris.
“exhale, exhale.” you instruct, and he does so all at once.
it fogs up the car, smoke flying back up in his face instantly. then he feels it. the burning in his throat. the desperate need to cough.
he sputters, and chris is already motioning to one of the waters in the cup holder.
“keep holding your breath and drink that.”
he tries to do as he’s told, but it’s impossible to hold it in. he lets out a loud hacking cough. then another, and another. matt tries to sip on the water in between them, though it’s hard.
you rub his arm gently as the cough attack begins to die down, and the feeling of your fingernails scratching him lightly through his sweatshirt almost makes him shiver.
“i personally like a good cough everyone once in a while. humbles me.” you joke, removing your hand and sitting back in your seat once you’re sure he’s alright.
he misses your touch immediately, and it’s embarrassing.
chris has been keeping it lit, so he passes it back to you once you’re ready. matt is left out for a moment, and he doesn’t mind the brief break.
the music stays on in the background, a curated playlist of stuff that you all like. he sees you bopping your head along to baby keem, and you turn to him with the joint still burning between your lips.
“you want more?” you say as the smoke curls around your face.
in many ways.
matt nods and reaches to grab it from you, trying to be careful where he positions his fingers. he repeats his actions from earlier, breathing out slowly this time.
he still coughs quite a bit, but it’s not nearly as bad. the high is definitely rushing straight to his head, and it makes him feel like a balloon full of helium.
his brother guides the joint out of his hand gently. even he wheezes a bit as he takes his fair share, which makes matt feel better.
“how do you feel bro?” nathan asks him through the haze that’s filled the car.
“good. i feel good.” that’s all he can think to say.
and it is nice. everything seems just a little bit lighter. his body feels…loose. matt blinks, and he swears he sees stars behind his eyelids.
you reach up to open the sunroof, letting some fresh air into the car. there’s not a cloud in the sky tonight, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore calms him.
“one more baby hit, then you’re done.” you pass it to him for the last rotation.
“so bossy.” matt smirks at you, and there’s a humorous glint in your eyes as you watch him take a drag.
he tries impossibly hard to make it look cool, despite almost hacking up a lung and choking on his water. you laugh, but matt somehow understands that you’re not making fun of him by doing so.
chris snatches it from of his hand. “gimme that, it’s almost out.”
it’s like a game of ping pong as matt watches the two of you bounce back and forth, hit after hit. the joint dwindles and finally dies a minute later. you toss the burnt remains into a dunkin bag from god knows how long ago before slipping the lighter back into the pouch.
“alright, matt. time for you to switch with me big boy.” nathan reminds him, turning to open his car door.
matt follows his lead. his body feels like it’s three feet behind his brain, like his consciousness is just a few seconds faster. his legs wobble as his feet hit the ground, but he manages to steady himself, hand against the car as he moves.
nate walks him to the door just in case, and matt stumbles into his new home in the back, laughing at himself under his breath. you help him sit upright in the middle seat, reaching across his body to get to the belt.
“lift your arm.” you tell him, and even though he doesn’t want to, he listens.
you pull the buckle around and click it into place so he’s properly strapped in, doing it for him like he’s a toddler or something.
this is an action he’d normally protest, but he’s solely focused on how close together you are. he can feel the heat radiating from your body as your shoulder presses against his, knees knocking together as he gets comfortable.
“how are you doing? everything okay?” you ask lowly, looking up at him through those long lashes.
he can see the red tinging your eyes, and his own feel droopy as he continues to stare. matt just can’t help it. you look so gorgeous, somehow even more so when you’re both faded.
“cat got your tongue?” you joke, head tilted back to rest against the seat as nate puts the car in reverse.
“you’re pretty.” it slips out before he can stop it, and yet he’s too high to care.
your eyes go a little wide, and your lips part slightly as you suck in a breath. he wants to kiss you so bad, to get rid of the centimeters of space between you and just press his mouth to yours.
“and you’re stoned.” you smile a bit and look away, trying to play it off.
“but i’m serious.” he doubles down, and you glance at him once more with those fucking bambi eyes.
you shake your head and place your hand on his thigh. “i promise you’re not.”
it ignites a fire in his stomach, one that won’t die down. he wants to move his hips, to feel some sort of friction against your palm. but he holds still, even despite how much he needs you.
“you don't know me.” matt hears his words slur together slightly as he speaks.
“i definitely do.” you argue.
“fine, but you can’t possibly guess what’s going on in my head.”
matt’s still not sure where any of this is coming from, or why he’s saying it to you now, but the word vomit won’t stop.
you shrug, squeezing his thigh lightly. he shifts a little bit, trying not to get too worked up over the pressure.
“i guess that’s true. so what are you thinking?”
matt glances up front at his brother and his best friend, and he knows neither of them are paying attention to the two of you. they’re too busy singing piña colada by yung pinch to care.
he hears you hum a little bit of the chorus under your breath as you wait for his response.
“i’m thinking about you.” he finally admits, leaning over so he can say it directly into your ear.
he can smell your rose shampoo, the fading hints of flowery perfume on your skin. it’s intoxicating, being near you like this.
you move your hand off his leg to shove his chest playfully. “shut up.”
the city blurs by as nate continues to drive, and matt admires the way the light from the street lamps dance across your face.
“why don’t you believe me?” he mumbles, barely audible over the combination of the breeze and the music.
“because you’re high as a kite, i can see it written all over your face.”
“doesn’t mean i’m lying.”
you study his face like you’re trying to find the truth in it. he can’t help but grin, because you’re so fucking clueless, and it makes you smile right back.
“touché.”
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cinnajun · 1 year
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ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: zb1 and long distance relationships
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a/n: this was a fun request :) just in general, i think these guys would be pretty good at it (save for a few of them), mostly bc they’re young and very online
notes: yujin is not included due to his age!
wc | 2.5k
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from worst to best at handling it
jiwoong
long distance with jiwoong is just point blank difficult
like i’ve said before i feel like relationships with jiwoong are long lasting so
when you receive whatever opportunity that requires your presence overseas, you’ve been dating for at least a couple of years
your routine is set and there’s a high probability you’re living together
so it’s a major disruption in the flow of your lives
and it’s not to say that jiwoong doesn’t want you to go, nor does he want things between you two to end
it’s just hard to wrap his mind around not having you around for dinner or having to sleep alone :(
so yeah safe to say this is going to be a very difficult time in your lives
depending on how far you are, jiwoong will absolutely be visiting you and staying in whatever apartment you’ve found yourself in
if you’re close enough (aka flight less than 5 hours) he’ll visit multiple times, but anything more than that he’ll probably end up only going once
it’s hard to get time off when you’re a working adult </3
it’s the most difficult for the both of you during holidays
there are days off you had in korea that you don’t have off now, so you physically hurt knowing that jiwoong is sitting at home instead of being on your celebratory day-off dates
and it’s just hard to keep him updated on your life
you fall into a routine of when to call each other and whatnot pretty quickly though
you also write things you want to tell him down in your notes app so when you’re talking you don’t miss anything
and really the main thing that gets you through this is those little sort of habits that you learn to have along the way
but man. you cannot wait to go home
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hanbin
this might be a hot take but i think hanbin would hate being in a long distance relationship
in the beginning, he’s absolutely convinced that everything will be fine and nothing will change
his mindset is “i kept my friendship with matthew up while he was in canada, so what’s stopping me from keeping up my relationship with my s/o”
and then a week passed without you and he got really depressed
i think being in a relationship with hanbin means spending a lot of time together, holding hands, and staying near him
so when you’re so far that he can’t even fly to you easily it’s just so difficult for him
but his last resort is breaking up with you
like it’s seriously his worst-case scenario
when hanbin loves someone, he loves them very, very hard
so he will do everything in his power to keep your relationship going, but relationships are a two way street
so you need to put in the work that he’s putting in, too
obviously you’re likely abroad because you’ve taken an opportunity (aka a job) so you can’t be online all the time but
call him when you’re free, tell him when you’re going to be busy, and let him know about every single little victory that you have so you can celebrate together
and, for the love of god, do NOT bring up the fact that you can tell he hates long distance
i’m so serious with this one
hanbin absolutely will not tell you that he doesn’t like it
because, if he knows you know, he’ll feel like you feel like he’s not willing to fight for your relationship (does this sentence make sense)
but just know when you get back you’ll watch him finally relax after like 50 years lol
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taerae
i’m going to keep it short: taerae’s heart shatters into a million pieces when you break the news to him lol
like obviously he tells you he’s proud of you and that he couldn’t be more excited for you it’s just that he’s actively crying as he says that
with taerae i think you actually almost reject whatever offer you’ve received, but you pretty quickly realize that doing that would make him feel worse so you decide to muscle through it
the worst part of long distance with taerae is the like week before you leave
he cries a lot and then feels bad for crying but he doesn’t want you to go you know
when he drops you off at the airport you have to take hanbin with you because he’s crying too hard to drive back to his apartment
he hugs you outside the airport doors for like 5 minutes and hanbin has to be like okay … let’s go now … okay … we need to let them get on their flight …
and then you ugly cry for half the flight … like someone reports you to the flight attendant and they’re like is everything okay ?? and you’re like no i just left my boyfriend in korea
after that i think it’s not nearly as bad as you both thought it was going to be LOL
he’s a lil bit (incredibly) clingy at first and gets rly butthurt when you don’t update him on your every move, but then he cries to hao and hao is like “here are some tips!”
then he’s very sweet
taerae will send you videos of him playing the guitar or of him just screwing around with the boys
he also sends you cringy little paragraphs about how much he loves you and how proud of you he is
obviously taerae misses you but tbh it’s like you never left
the only reason he’s not higher up is the pure agony you went through for that week before
taerae the man that you are
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gunwook
graduated from taerae school of how do i deal with my s/o going abroad for a bit
he acts all cool with it
when he drops you off at the airport he gives you the gunwook bear hug and is like “i’ll see you later! love you!”
then you get off the plane 10+ hours later and you have like 17 texts from gyuvin describing gunwook going through the 5 stages of grief
it’s actually kinda funny ngl because it’s like a picture of him hugging a pillow with a pint of ice cream in his hand while he watches your favorite movie and cries
also like taerae, everything is absolutely fine within like a week
gunwook’s really cheesy while you’re gone though and that’s how you tell he really misses you
he’s making playlists and posting old cute pics of u on his story with the caption “10,000 km away”
gyuvin also told you that he giggles and kicks his legs every time you text him when he’s not expecting it
he also just hangs out with your family while you’re abroad
he’ll text you like “damn y/n your mom made the most delicious dinner tonight” and you’re like ??? without me????
you later find out your mom invited him over so they could be sad and miss you together which is soooo embarrassing
gunwook will mail you random items from your room and with a note that says “why didn’t you take this” as if you didn’t meticulously pack every single thing you brought with you
so then you have to spend money to mail it back because you don’t want to have to buy another suitcase (you end up having to anyway, but you’re still glad you mailed the things back)
when you get back he cries in your arms for like an hour lol
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gyuvin
gyuvin acts like it’s not a big deal but lowkey it’s the biggest deal in his life
he’s like “omg congrats do u wanna get dinner”
that night he cries in hao’s arms like a little baby and then he gets over it
he’s genuinely so happy for you, and there are no strings attached to that excitement
one of his closest friends left his home to pursue his dreams so he should let you leave to pursue them too, you know?
the only reason gyuvin isn’t higher actually is because the other three are long distance from everyone they know LOL
long distance with gyuvin is remarkably similar to just being there with him
when he’s hanging out with friends you’ll be on the phone (albeit muted) just in case you need to contribute to the conversation
and he gets really excited when you have him on the phone while you chill out with your (new) friends
assuming you���re studying abroad because gyuvin’s not old enough to have an s/o with a job that has overseas opportunity, a lot of your time is spent in your dorm so you can call him </3
gyuvin is very popular with your overseas friends and they all follow him on instagram
any time someone hits on you they let him know and also let him know that they told whoever hit on you that you’re TAKEN!!
obviously he doesn’t enjoy knowing that people are hitting on you and he can’t do anything about it but he appreciates that your friends shut it down
all in all i think this is a healthy era of your relatioship and it strengthens your trust in one another a lot
but he prefers you being there with him so come home soon pretty please <3
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ricky
yeah long distance with ricky is barely an issue
like when you tell him he’s like “oh…okay” and then he’s sad for a little bit
but then he’s sending you off like nothing is wrong!!! and truly nothing is wrong
i think actually you’d be more sad than ricky is but that’s not to say he’s not going to miss you at all
of course he is
but ricky is a seasoned misser and knows how to keep up relationships from far away (even if he’s never had experience with it being a romantic relationship) so he’s mostly concerned with brainstorming the best ways to like keep things going in a way that isn’t jarring
he consults pretty much everyone he knows on what they think he should do, almost like he’s collecting data or something
so once you actually leave ricky is pretty interactive and prepared for your escapade!!!!
he texts you at specific times of day he knows you aren’t busy and you schedule daily calls at the same time once you know your every day schedule
like gyuvin i’m assuming you’re studying abroad, so your class schedule is on ricky’s home screen (it’s a picture widget) but it’s been translated into his timezone
sometimes he texts you during classes he knows you don’t like and you’re like … isn’t it 4 in the morning
he doesn’t answer that question
but to be fair you do the exact same thing so can you really talk…
like gyuvin, your overseas friends LOVE ricky
sometimes he will sponsor you doordashing dinner and by extension your friends (except you make them pay him back LOL)
and they think he’s the funniest guy ever
bonus: sometimes gyuvin will text you pictures of him scrolling through old texts </3
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hao
is this at all shocking
he’s so perfect
doesn’t even bat an eye when you tell him you want to go away for this opportunity you have
“okay! how long until you leave? are they paying for your flights? do you want to start packing now? do we need to get clothes for different weather?”
once you’re off he does get a bit sad but he promises himself that by the time you’re off the plane he’ll be feeling better
he breaks the promise but you don’t know that because he acts like everything is just fine!!!
throughout the duration of your time away, communication with hao is very steady and consistent
you’re each putting in enough energy for a perfect 50/50 split <3
when you start making friends overseas, you show them hao and they’re in awe that you managed to bag the most perfect person on earth
this makes you sad, not because you’re jealous, but because hao would say they should be more surprised he managed to bag you </3
like ricky, he will also sponsor your meals from time to time!! sometimes he doordashes stuff to your place without even telling you like its that serious
hao is the champion at curing your homesickness, mostly because he figured out how to cure it for himself first
if you ever feel like things are too much and you need to leave, he will drop everything to go out there and get you feeling back up to things
he sends little presents every time you have a big achievement or an exciting event
and he’s the number one endorser of getting yourself little treats when you’re feeling proud of yourself
he’s so proud of you
and he’s so happy you got to experience something so exciting
but he can’t lie, it is a big breath of fresh air when you get back lol
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matthew
tbh for the sake of this let’s pretend you went to canada bc
why can i see you moving in with matthew’s family idk
you tell him about the opportunity and he’s like My mom will host you
you end up living with his sister LOL
because of that it’s barely like you’re gone
i mean he can come visit you for an extended amount of time and he gets to see his family so its like 2 in 1
in all actuality it doesn’t matter where you go, long distance with matthew is EASY PEASY!!!
i can see him being really trusting in a relationship and that makes things so much easier than not
the first time you get invited out you ask him “hey i got invited to a party tonight, is it okay if i go” and he’s like “ya why wouldn’t it be?? why are you asking me??”
okay feminist
he makes you watch anime with him over like teleparty or something </3 but it’s cute bc his chat reactions are like adorable
#3 of the “your friends love him squad”
they all ask you how you managed to find him because he literally doesn’t care what you do as long as you’re not cheating on him (and you would never do this)
and he’s all happy go lucky every time you talk
when he visits they’re in love with him (PLATONICALLY)
they all ask about his friends in the “haha do you have a brother” way and he’s like “my friend hanbin!”
so now all of your overseas friends want to date hanbin which is awkward
he will also make you buy like presents and things for his friends’/family’s birthdays
obviously with his money but he’s like “can you go to (store) and pick up (item) and then wrap it up and give it to my mom”
it’s very silly
all in all matthew is the long distance relationship you DESERVE!!!!
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thank you for reading!
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causenessus · 2 months
Note
YAY CONGRATS ON 1k!! you totally deserve it and your work is phenomenal and i can’t wait to see what else you make <3
for the event.. could i get a fluff 📚 fic w/ kuroo where the reader helps him find a book as a library aid??
see you again. | kuroo t.
kuroo x f!reader
written in 3rd pov
one word prompt from 1k followers event: 📚 -> library
"my heart's on mars, kinda hard to see, but you know i'll see you again <3" from when will i see you again by shakka (DOES NOT fit the vibes at all i mean kind of in my delusional brain but i just like the song and it fits the title <3)
word count: 1.9k words
notes: lots of fluff!! kuroo being down bad for the reader upon first meeting her, reader also being down bad. kuroo being a nerd bc man could be sexy or flirt to save his life <3 bokuto being the real star of this entire follower event apparently who knows how many more fics he's gonna make it into. also this was really fun to write bc little lore drop but one year in high school i once got kicked out of a class (very convoluted thing, they thought the class was triggering me which was lowkey a fair statement) so i got to be a library aide instead <333 i'm going to say this is not edited bc i don't want to deal with my mistakes or take responsibility for them. THANK U FOR THIS REQUEST WYR!! I LOVE YOU SM <3 I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS FIC
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although she enjoyed the solace of re-shelving books on her own, she enjoyed helping others just as much. it was like getting snippets of people’s lives through the books they were in search of. sometimes students came in looking for books for classes, which allowed her to meddle a little into just how many majors her school really offered, and how niche they could be. others came in looking for books to pass the time and she was always happy to recommend one of her favorites if they were open to suggestions.
while some of the other aides were there because they saw the job as an easy, quick way to make some extra money, she took pleasure in her job. when lost students came up to the counter asking for help locating a book, most of the aides felt that they had done their job well when they gave the student some kind of cryptic number and last name to scour the shelves for in return. however, numbers revealed nothing of where a single book could be in a large room piled with books that lined and stuffed every shelf and corner they could fit into.
she often took it upon herself to go on a search with the students who came to her for help. she’d consult the system for where a book was located and then lead the student to where the book was located rather than just sending them on their way. sometimes it took a few minutes to find what they were looking for, but they always found it in the end.
asking someone to wander around a university’s library and expecting them to know where a book labeled “796.31 dearing” was located was the equivalent to asking them to find a needle in a haystack. she didn’t expect anyone to know where a book was right off the bat; that was her job, and she was happy to help.
kuroo always dreaded going to the library. he dreaded everything about it. he loathed having to be quiet, aware of every noise he made, every rustle of his pant legs brushing against each other, and he hated trying to find the single book he was looking for amongst thousands of others. sometimes he felt like he'd be better off pirating a pdf version of a book off the internet, but it never appealed to him as much as a physical book.
over lunch with bokuto one day, he had rubbed a hand down his face and groaned at the thought of even stepping foot into the library, “i have to get a book for one of my social science classes, but do you know how hard they make it to find any kind of science book?”
“you should ask for y/n!” bokuto responded with a mouth full of food, “she’s really nice, she actually walked with me to help find the book i was looking for.”
“you went to the library to get a book? i would’ve expected you to just sparknote it,” kuroo teased with a sleazy grin.
his friend huffed, crossing his arms, “you should have more faith in me! i did read the book, but... it was because my professor had already caught me using sparknotes and said she’d fail me if she caught me using it again...” he trailed off and kuroo laughed.
“i think you just proved your own point wrong, buddy,” he rested his hand in his palm, looking down at the table they were sitting at. “you said her name’s y/n? what’s she look like?”
“mm, i don’t remember,” bokuto said, after a thoughtful pause, “she’s probably wearing a nametag, though. or just ask for y/n! someone will direct you to her.”
“that’s weird, man. what am i supposed to tell her when she questions why i specifically asked for her?” he responded with a sigh.
“just tell her i sent you! she knows me pretty well now, she won’t mind,” the dual hair colored boy shrugged before shoving more food into his mouth, “it’s that or search on your own for your book, but i’d say just find y/n, she can help.”
bokuto had a way of making everything seem like it would turn out fine, but all that confidence left him the moment he walked through the library doors. all he knew was he was on the lookout for a girl; nothing about what she looked like, just her name.
he could pretend to be cool and suave from afar, but when it came to actual interactions, he was never the best at maintaining his composure. he always talked too fast, or would regrettably talk more than was acceptable by his standards.
he settled for trying to find the book himself first. it was some kind of book about behavior, by a last name he thought sounded slightly like a serial killer. if he couldn’t even remember the author’s name, he was helpless. was it even worth trying to find someone to help him? or would he just make a fool of himself trying to describe the book he was looking for?
but he needed to find this book tonight, he knew that. he’d already put off reading it for long enough, and his deadline was coming up. knowing his grade was at risk, he defeatedly dragged his feet to the foot counter. it was impossible for him to casually stand there, looking at people’s name tags, and a girl at a computer was already looking at him, waiting patiently for him to tell her what he needed.
“uh–” he started off, trying to keep his voice low, “is y/n working tonight?”
the girl’s eyebrows knitted together, and he was distracted by the way her lips pursed before he tried to focus on her eyes instead, “that’s me. did you need something?”
perhaps it was luckier that he had found her on his first try rather than walking around like an idiot looking for a mysterious girl, but he couldn’t help worrying about how this interaction was already off to a bad start. he couldn’t believe bokuto could ever forget a face like hers when he was sure it’d be stuck in his head for weeks. “yeah, i’m looking for a book…?” he cringed at his own words. what else would he be here for? she only raised her brows, waiting for him to continue. “it’s um, a book on behaviorism i think. i’m majoring in sports management and i need this book for a social sciences class but i don’t remember what it’s called.”
his honesty made the corner of her lips lift, and he found himself staring again. she had to be wearing lipstick; there was no way her lips could be that red. “behaviorism? and you don’t remember what the book is called? what about the author?”
he shook his head. did he tell her his analogy? he’d already made a stupid first impression, “i don’t remember what his name was, but it sort of sounded like…”
“like a serial killer?” she finished, eyes flicking up to his own.
his own brows raised in surprise, “yeah, how did you know?”
she laughed softly at his remark, “i took a psychology class. it’s how i remembered his name too. i called him beef skinner, but his name’s b.f. skinner.” he found his own lips turning up, and they shared a smile before she cleared her throat, turning back to her screen. he watched her fingers fly across the keyboard under her hands before she turned her monitor screen around so he could see it. “does this cover look familiar? maybe by the title?”
it was a simple cover, dark blue with a tri-colored atom at the bottom. the title was written in bold capital letters: Science and Human Behavior. it clicked with him as he read the title and he could only nod, dumbfounded as she returned the screen back to its normal position.
“that’s exactly it. you’re like a genius, i can’t believe you found it based on three basic words,” he complimented, watching as she stood up, dusting off her pencil skirt. 
he felt a puff of pride in his chest, seeing the way she smiled at his words. “it’s my job,” she laughed again, “i think i had someone else come in looking for it a few days ago. too. call it good timing. your book should be somewhere in the 300s, i’ll lead you there.”
she waved a hand, motioning for him to follow as she came around the side of the counter and he was quick to follow. they walked along the aisles, her head tilting up ever so often to look up at the number plates adorning each shelf. “if you don’t mind me asking, how did you know my name?” she asked, turning back to him.
he fell into step walking alongside her as he hummed in thought, “i had a friend that mentioned you. i always get lost coming here and i was telling him about it and he said i should try to find you because you’re really nice.”
“aw,” she commented with a small smile as they turned down an aisle, “that was sweet of him to say. i’m glad i could help.”
their conversation went silent as they continued walking, and he found himself tugging at the collar of his sweater nervously. “he was right,” he mumbled.
“what was that?” she looked at him again, and he inhaled sharply again, looking into her eyes.
“nothing. i mean—i was just saying my friend was right. you’re very nice,” he spoke quickly, averting his eyes towards the floor. this was what he’d meant when he said he always talked too much; he really needed to learn to keep his thoughts in.
but when she laughed at his compliment, he thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to make a fool of himself if he could hear her voice again. “thank you, i’m glad to hear that. what was your name, again?” she asked, a blush dusting her cheeks. she couldn’t believe she was letting a boy’s words affect her in such a way when she didn’t even know his name.
he was thinking the same thing; how had telling her his name completely slipped his mind? “kuroo,” he said, stopping when she stopped, crouching to run her fingers along the spines of a row of books close to the ground. “my name’s kuroo tetsuro.”
“well, kuroo,” she said, standing back up and looking at him with that smile of hers. paired with the sound of his name on her tongue, he felt like he was going to pass out. “it was nice to meet you. and here’s your book. maybe i’ll see you again?”
“definitely,” he said too quickly, but it was worth it to watch her nose scrunch as she laughed, “i’ll definitely come back, it what meant. um, not just to see you. well— actually— it’d be kind of nice if maybe we saw each other again. maybe over dinner? could i get your number?”
“yes,” she answered, and when she bit her lip, trying to stop the way her smile had grew, he felt like he was standing in front of angel, “to all of that. meet me back at the counter?”
"okay," he breathed, watching her walk off, her hands grabbing fists full of her skirt. maybe the library wasn't as bad as he thought, after all.
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vaaaaaiolet · 2 months
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You move to the big city in search of bigger and better, so naturally, you get your first place.
You just don't anticipate the roommate that comes along with it.
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f / m, strangers / enemies to lovers, slow burn, hijinks and shenanigans, leon is bad at feelings :( but don't worry because there will be so much fluff omg like a romcom, leon being a little shit to a sweetheart pipeline, and banter!! so much banter
inspired by the Japanese drama Good Morning Call!
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catch up on earlier chapters // read on ao3
chapter 4: legalese, chimney sweeps, and a partridge in a pear tree
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a/n: this is a REUPLOAD bc i've been told my first post didn't show up in tags 😭 thank you so much if you read the original upload, it means the world to me :,)
I KNOW I TOOK FOREVER but i was fighting to get this written omg. so many ideas. my head hurts. if you can find the spiderman scene we are now due for a spring wedding. andrew garfield peter parker >>> but as always, i love u LOTS!! enjoy <3
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There are all kinds of upsides to having friends in high places, but when your connections are limited to the four walls of Wok and Roll Ramen Noodle, the best you’ve got is Hikaru Uehara: an unlikely junior-year friend, the owner’s son, and law student extraordinaire. Apron tied with a clumsy knot behind your back, you slip inside the tiny shop only to meet his sharp eyes across the bar. Oof.
Hikaru frowns. “You’re late again.”
“I know, I know, but I’ve actually got an excuse this time,” you try for a winning smile, peeking at the book he’s currently nose deep in. 
“It’s always something with you. Still house hunting?” He slides a bowl of kitsune udon across the bartop, “Number 43, table next to the creepy painting.”
He shoots, he scores! You catch the bowl and head off to the hungry patron.
“You know, my dad finished our basement yesterday and we’ve got an empty room now. I told him I’d ask you.” 
“Because you’re offering it free of rent, right?” 
A not-at-all-subtle grin pulls at the corner of his mouth. “What about an employee discount?”
“In your dreams, Uehara.”
43 asks for an extra pair of chopsticks, which you gladly deposit before taking the barstool opposite the shopkeeper’s son. It turns out he’s reading one of his textbooks for law class. Perfect. You roll up your sleeves and bust out your CEO face again. 
Here goes nothing. “I kind of got myself into a mess.”
“I don’t want to hear about the thing with your fern and the toilet again.”
“What? No, ew,” you wave all associated memories of that away, “no, seriously. I found a place, but I’m kind of…stuck in it. I need you go all Elle Woods and help me because I got scammed.” And also broken into, but you mentally plead the fifth and avoid self-incriminating yourself. “The lease is forcing me and this other guy to share the place and neither of us know how to get out.”
That gets his attention; Hikaru puts down his textbook. “Okay, maybe you do have an excuse this time. What the hell?”
The Sparknotes version is that you and Leon both filed for the same apartment within half an hour of each other.
Number 44: cold soba.
Your landlady’s as good as fled the country. Leon can’t reach his either. Hikaru sucks his teeth.
Number 45: miso soup.
You’ve both agreed to share the apartment for the three months of the lease considering the mini fortune of money blown on the deal.
“$6000? Really?” he gasps. “You do know how much this job pays you, right?”
“Then pay me more!” you shoot back, multitasking refills while balancing a full tray. 
45 again: miso soup on the house. Hikaru hands you a mop for your spill as you glare, but pulls out his laptop all the same.
“Well, if you’re fine with sharing the apartment for two more months…” he hums, typing away and whistling in approval as he finds your apartment listing, “your place isn’t bad at all considering the price. Plus, you can’t request to move back in just like that if we lodge a complaint and you win. What if this Leon turns out to be an alright roommate?”
His question irks you a little. Why would you want the apartment back with a weirdly cagey roommate who shotguns (emphasis on gun) the master bedroom? You’ve got reason enough to want a place of your own after the shitshow that was college last year. You wonder if you should lay out all Leon’s teen boy-esque rules about not touching his things, but Hikaru shakes his head the minute you open your mouth.
“I know it’s not what you want to hear, but maybe the best course of action is to wait the storm out.” 
He sounds sincere for once, turning the laptop screen around to show you a 37-page long document with your building’s name embellishing the top. His fingers just keep scrolling, and scrolling, and scrolling, and dear God.
"That's the complaint form?" Your shriek rattles 45’s bowl worryingly.
“The first half, yes. Should I email you the second?”
Number 46 has the nerve to comment on your face looking more blanched than her bok choy.
That evening, you close the Wok and Roll with a heavy heart. Your phone pings as you double check the locks.
[Hikaru]: srsly ur best waiting out ur contract
Well damn, Hikaru. Friend of the year.
[Hikaru]: but since u asked (and rescued that last order)
[Hikaru]: i’ll still look for ways to get u out of there and on ur own
[Hikaru]: after finals tho
[Hikaru]: and once u start coming in on time!!
You pump your fist with a self-indulgent whoop outside the restaurant doors. Hikaru might be a pain to deal with sometimes, but he really did come through when he wanted to. Consider your now-thriving toilet fern that he put together a pot for, and soon with a little bit of luck, your eventual solo apartment life. 
You eagerly text back a thank you. Not even the winter air buffeting your face could put a damper on your mood as you skip back home to your apartment, and consequently, to Leon.
Or at least you thought you were. The apartment is lovely and warm and quiet when you unlock the front door. 
“Hello?” You call out for him, looping your scarf onto the wall hook.
No response. 
Leon’s bedroom door’s cracked open though, and the light looks off. It’s only 7 PM. Did he tell you he was going out? Crap, you realize how ill-prepared you’d been to not get his number or anything before you left. Rookie mistake. This roommate business is harder than you remember.
You toe off your boots and tiptoe toward the master bedroom. 
No messing in each other’s rooms, Leon’s phantom voice prods at the back of your head, but your concern for his wellbeing — okay fine, maybe you just want to peek at his stuff that’s so damn secret — takes over as you push his door open and slip into the darkness that’s making it impossible to see.
So you flick on the nearby lamp.
And then you scream. “What are you doing?”
Tucked in bed as snug as a bug and fully dressed, complete with shearling jacket, is Leon Kennedy with his face dirtied to high heaven. He blinks crossly as the lamp flickers to life. 
“Huh?” His voice is gruff with sleep.
“You’re sleeping…like that?”
He looks down as if registering himself for the first time. “I’m…yeah. Tired.”
“What happened to your face?” you ask, sounding reedy. “It’s filthy.”
“It is?”
You nod sharply.
“Oh? Oh yeah, yeah, I was cleaning the chimney.”
“We don’t have a chimney. Leon, we don’t even have a fireplace.” 
He fumbles out of his covers at your bug-eyed look. His room is absolutely freezing. “I have an explanation, I swear,” he starts as you back into the living room. Leon looks even grimier in the light: soot dusts his shoulders like powdered sugar, ages his hair salt-and-pepper, bruises the knees of his jeans. “Last night, I couldn’t sleep. There was something wrong with the heating so I went to check.”
Your room is perfectly warm. The house is perfectly warm.
He nods. “That’s cause I fixed the rest of the apartment, my room’s sti-” And then stops, narrowing his eyes. Whatever Leon did to fix the heating couldn’t have kept the temperature from dropping several degrees as he hisses, “You came into my room. We had a deal.”
“I had no idea you were even home!” 
“Doesn’t negate the fact that you broke the rule.”
Everything flips in a second; he’s glaring daggers, and the entire situation is so petulantly infuriating that you take his bait. The snow from your coat is making a melted mess on the carpet. Leon’s still in his stupid dirty jacket. The living room is half-unpacked from moving in literally the day before, and you’re already having your first argument with your roommate over stepping three feet into his bedroom.
“What is so goddamn important about the stuff in your room?” you finally explode. 
“You don’t get it.” 
“Leon,” you sound embarrassingly close to pleading now, “you wanted this – this whole sharing thing – but now you’re not giving me a chance?” You let your arms fall to your sides. 
Hikaru wanted to know if you could last three months. But as Leon stares at you, jaw working like he’s having a one-man argument inside his mouth, you wonder how you’ll tell your friend you couldn’t even last three nights. Frustrated tears prick at your eyes. You’ve never been good on the debate team back in high school. How long is it going to take for Leon to snap at you for that too?  
“It’s not you,” he says softly.
You smother a sniffle with your coat sleeve, making him sigh. 
“It’s not you,” he repeats, shaking his head to himself, “God, Hunnigan, you’re never this sloppy…” Shucking off his coat, he drops it on a box labeled Seasonal Decor #2 before heading back inside his room. He appears moments later with a box of tissues. “Take one before I get them covered in coal, yeah?” 
As you hesitatingly accept, you take in his form sans jacket. Leon is – alarmingly built, for one – covered in scratches. Bruises. Real ones. Fresh.
They’re littered along his muscled forearms, right up to the tops of his fitted black shirt sleeves. He’s so close to you that you even notice a silvery scar topping his right cheekbone.
“Are you…okay?”
Mystery swirls around your roommate like the soot he’s covered in. You ball up the tissue in your hand as his brow gradually smooths out, anger dissipating. 
“It’s my job,” Leon reveals. “Everything, this apartment, the stuff I’m keeping in my room, I…I work for the government, okay? This apartment was supposed to be home base for me. There’s stuff in there I can’t have anyone messing with. Stuff that could hurt you.” He pulls out a gleaming badge and lets you inspect it as your hand slowly flies over your mouth. “See?”
The gun in his pocket. The phone call. 
“But you’re not going to hurt me…right?” you dare to ask.
Leon’s eyes go wide, blond head shaking swiftly. “Never, I swear. Trying to do the opposite, actually, but that’s not going too great right now. I’m here to stop somebody from getting their hands on something that could hurt a lot of people.”
It’s a little surreal. Your once-burglar roommate turned government agent blinks at you like you’ll turn any moment, like you’re about to scream and run for the hills, so he can’t help but flinch as you reach for another tissue and whisper, “Can I?”
“Can you what? I can’t let you look at my things, again, I-” Leon tilts his head as you wrap the tissue around your index and middle fingers, and then rifle through the Seasonal Decor #2 box. “What are you doing?”
“Got it!”
You turn around, revealing a modest first aid kit in your hands.
“You keep that with your Christmas decorations?” He lets out a short laugh.
“I drop a lot of ornaments. Should really invest in plastic ones.” Fishing out a small bottle of ointment for Leon to see, you shoot him a redeeming grin. “So can I?”
He smiles. “You may,” Leon concedes, allowing you to settle him on the couch.
Leon’s bedroom seems to drop in temperature as the evening blends into night, falling to a bewildering 38 degrees while the rest of the apartment remains toasty. Ice might be frosting his windows, but thankfully, it only melts between you and Leon as you dab ointment into his cuts and he entertains you with sanitized anecdotes from his work around the world. The living room clock ticks to 10 o’clock as you two share the next best thing to dinner: a stash of rice crackers swiped from the back of the Wok and Roll. 
“There’s no way you’re sleeping with a jacket on.” You jut your chin towards his room, hissing in sympathy as he jerks from the alcohol sting. “It’s just as bad as sleeping outside in the snow.”
“I’ll sleep on the couch,” Leon munches. He holds out a cracker for you to bite, an oddly intimate gesture that he doesn’t seem to put as much thought into as you, “it’s plenty warm out here.”
“And have you spend the night on a lumpy sofa with a million bruises on your back? That’d be evil, Leon.”
He shrugs. “I’ve slept through worse.”
“Yeah, because you were probably halfway across the world in some random jungle!” 
“It was just the one mission, come on,” he protests, his eyes sparkling with mirth. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”
You shake your head. The tail end of his bandage tucks neatly under his arm as you finish patching him up. It’s been an eventful night, and with each genuine laugh you share with Leon, the more you feel like extending an olive branch for everything that’s happened so far. You even feel a little bad for the Lena thing.
“Sleep in my room for the night. Take the bed,” you suggest.
“It wouldn’t be very chivalrous of me.”
“And calling dibs on the master bedroom was?”
“I needed space for my equipment!”
You lift an unimpressed brow.
“Touché.” Leon gives in, chuckling.
So it’s settled. You pull out a mass of blankets from a box next to the fridge (Winter Camp Sophomore Year EMERGENCY SUPPLIES) which Leon insists on expertly fashioning into a nest beside your bed. It’s piled high with pillows from his own bed by the time you come back from brushing your teeth. 
“It makes me feel better about this whole thing,” he admits when you laugh at it. 
It’s either him or his pillows that make you feel warmer sleeping on the floor than you did in your bed last night. Leon's unexpected warmth might be your Christmas miracle to make up for this apartment fiasco. The stars twinkle outside your bedroom window as you drift off to sleep.
Deep in your dreams, you miss the twinkle of something else too. 
A ping to be specific.
[UNKNOWN NUMBER]: Hiding him from me already?
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back to the chapter masterlist...
comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!
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coneyislandbabey · 1 year
Text
she's a rainbow. -> w.rojas
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WARNINGS: profanities, pining lol
SYNOPSIS: Warren's got it bad for Camila's childhood best friend. word count: 2,008
NOTES: Written for this request!
You dragged your paintbrush across the canvas, a trail of plum purple in its wake. You were sitting on your deck, the sky a cloudless blue, the morning filled with birdsong and a soft breeze only making itself known through the occasional soft rustle of your hair and clothes. June was a ripe peach in your hands, pink, perfect, fleeting. 
“What are you painting today, Picasso?” Warren’s clear voice rang out through the morning air. He was standing on the deck of his own house next door, forearms resting lazily on the railing as he gazed over at you. You glanced up from your work to send a smile his way. 
“Shocked to see you up this early,” you called by way of greeting. “If you wanna see what I’m painting, come over and look.” 
At your words, he disappeared back into the house, and you knew that in a minute he would be opening the sliding door and stepping out onto your own deck. You did this almost every day, ever since you followed your childhood best friend Camila across the country, moving into the house next to hers and her boyfriend’s band in Laurel Canyon. 
In the months since you arrived, you’ve gotten incredibly close with all of Camila’s housemates. Whenever you weren’t doing a shift for your part-time job at a coffee shop or at your own place working on your art, you were at their house. You and Camila spent a lot of time one-on-one, getting together for wine or lunch or anything else while the band was working, but the band loved you so much that you found yourself hanging out with them almost even more than with her, especially since Warren started inviting you to their recording sessions down at the studio. 
You had become so absorbed in your painting that you didn’t realize Warren had arrived on your deck until his hands were on the back of your chair and he was leaning over your shoulder to get a good look at the canvas. 
“Oh, it’s our street at night,” he observed, taking in the deep purples and night blues that the familiar street was rendered in. “It’s beautiful. Looks like a place I’d wanna be.”
You rolled your eyes. “It already is a place you wanna be, Warren. You live there.” 
Though you couldn’t see it, Warren grinned, swooping down to press a kiss to your cheek. “I only wanna be here so much ‘cause it’s where you are, mama.” 
You scoffed, sending a rueful smile his way as he sat in the chair next to yours. He pulled a joint out of his pocket, lit it, and offered it. You took it between your lips and inhaled before sending it back his way. For a while, the two of you sat in a comfortable silence, Warren merely observing you as you painted. He had told you once, the two of you high as kites while hanging out late one night, that he loved to watch you paint. He said watching you paint was as intricate a thing as watching a musician play their instrument, that it was captivating. You had hung onto his words even through the drug-induced haze, had thought about them for weeks on end. 
“You’ll come over for dinner tonight, right?” he asked after a while. “Camila saw me leaving to come over here and made me promise to get you to come.”
“Man, I don’t even buy groceries over here anymore ‘cause I’m always just eating at yours,” you laughed. “Course I’ll come. Can’t beat the company.”
“Good,” he said, standing. “I gotta get back to the house; shockingly, I actually have responsibilities to see to today.”
“Oh, well color me impressed,” you responded, happily accepting his parting kiss on the cheek. 
Eddie watched, amused, as Warren got up for the dozenth time in the last half hour, drifting back over to the windows and peering outside, toward your house. Dinner was set for twenty minutes from now, and you were expected to come. Though some, clearly, were expecting you more than others. 
“Man, can you chill the fuck out? You’re making me antsy,” he said, after watching Warren pace the room for a few minutes while still pretending to look casual. 
“I am chill! I’m totally chill!” Warren said, having the gall to look incensed at his best friend’s words. 
Eddie leveled him with an unimpressed look. “Do you think you’ll finally just tell her how you feel so you can stop being such a fuckin’ freak every time she comes over?” 
Warren sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the wall. “Don’t you think if she was into me she would’ve said something by now? I’m not going to embarrass myself or ruin our friendship. I know when I’m gonna strike out.”
“Clearly you don’t, idiot,” Eddie retorted. “First of all, she could say the same about you because you haven’t made any moves either, man. All of what you just said means nothing.” 
“She’s definitely into you, anyway,” Graham said, joining the conversation as he walked into the room. 
“What makes you think that?” Warren asked, ignoring Eddie’s comments, which were clearly too logical for him. 
“Why else do you think she hangs around here so often? I mean, don’t get me wrong, we’re all friends, but everyone knows it's different with you two. Most of the time she’s here for you,” Graham explained. 
“Yeah, and don’t forget that she comes to our recording sessions because you asked her to,” Eddie chimed in, a smirk growing on his face as Warren’s cheeks grew redder. He didn’t have the chance to answer before someone knocked on the door. 
“You wanna go get that?” Eddie asked, raising a teasing eyebrow. 
Warren made his way to the door, shaking his head as if to physically rid himself of the conversation that had just happened. He had never felt the way he did about you before, not about any woman he had ever met. When you first met, things had been flirty between you, at least more flirty than you were with any of the other guys, and he almost plucked up the courage to ask you out in the first week of knowing you. But then the two of you got high together one night, and you got him talking about his hopes for the band, and you told him about all of your ambitions when it comes to your art, and he could feel himself falling in love a little. He had real, undeniable feelings for you, and that made it all too scary. So, he’d convinced himself that there was no way you could have feelings for him too, because thinking he had no chance with you was easier, more comfortable, than pining after you. 
He put a valiant effort into feigning nonchalance when he opened the door, all of these thoughts still a monsoon in his mind. You stood on the other side of the threshold, a bottle of wine in one hand and a covered plate of chocolate chip cookies in the other. 
“I baked ‘em!” you said proudly, holding up the plate and smiling widely at him. For a minute, his mind blanked, and all he could think about was the way your eyes sparkled in the porchlight, the way your dress fell perfectly on your figure. You knocked him dead every time he set eyes on you. Snapping out of it, he unburdened you of the bottle of wine and the cookies, widening his arms so he could take you in a hug. 
“Are they cookies? Or are they cookies,” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. 
You scoffed, rolling your eyes and smacking him playfully on the shoulder. “They’re just cookies, Rojas. This is a family dinner, not a late night recording session.” 
“Family dinner?” 
“Yeah,” you shrugged as you walked through the door. “This is a family, isn’t it?” 
“Guess it is,” he responded, because you were right and because he would agree with any statement you made ever for the rest of your lives. 
“Honey, you made it!” Camila shouted, coming over to hug you as you walked in. You greeted her warmly, and then did the same for everyone else standing around the kitchen helping to make dinner (or, really, getting in the way of Camila and Graham, who were the only ones actually cooking). 
Dinner was, as usual, the highlight of Warren’s day. After listening to Billy get grouchy and boss everyone around in the studio all day, getting to come home and actually unwind was a godsend. Plus, he got to see you, warm and pliant with wine and good food and good company. You were so effortlessly funny and charismatic, easily commanding the attention of the room with your stories and jokes without ever trying to. He could listen to you talk for the rest of his life. He could stand to do a lot of things with you for the rest of his life. 
After dinner, the group of you took the cookies you made and moved to the living room, settling in to watch a movie. You snuggled with Warren under a blanket on the loveseat, Eddie, Karen, Graham, and Camila squished into the old couch. Billy had retired to his room prior to the movie, citing that he needed to get some writing done. Graham had already fallen asleep, and Karen and Eddie were providing a running commentary of how bad the movie was. 
Warren nudged your side, and when you turned to look at him, he took a joint out of his pocket and tilted his head toward the door to the deck, a silent question. You nodded and he stood, you following close behind after wrapping the blanket around your shoulders. You didn’t see the exaggerated wink Eddie shot Warren’s way as you left the room, or the way Warren mimed slitting his throat in response, sending Eddie into a fit of laughter that he desperately tried to stifle. 
Outside, you settled into your usual chair, Warren pulling one up close to you before sitting down. You turned your body towards him, leaning your head on the back of the chair and gazing at him affectionately as he lit up the joint, and, as usual, offered it to you before himself. You took a hit before handing it back to him, settling back into your position of observing him as the joint went to his own mouth. 
“What are you lookin’ at, mama?” he asked, a mixture of curiosity and amusement gracing his face. 
You hummed, shrugging your shoulders noncommittally. “You should let me paint you sometime.” 
“Paint me? Why?” he asked, brows raising. 
“Because you’re pretty,” you said bluntly, Warren’s heart stumbled over itself. “You’d make a good muse.” 
Warren laughed, trying to steady himself. “You think I’m pretty?” 
You leaned toward him a bit more, a small, private smile on your face. “Of course I do, Warren. I’m sure dozens of other people have told you as much.”
“Not like this, no,” he said, shaking his head with a smile. “And it wouldn’t mean anything coming from any but you, anyway.” Your brows raised, mouth dropping into a small, understanding ‘o’. Then you were smiling at him again, the corners of your eyes crinkling in a way that made his heart overflow. 
“Are you finally going to kiss me now?” you asked, and Warren choked, smoke emitting from his nose and mouth. 
“I- uh, yeah. Yeah, I am,” he stammered, shaking his head as vigorously as he could in his buzzed state. 
“Good,” you said, leaning over the arm of your chair. Warren crossed the rest of the distance himself, connecting his lips to yours. You led the kiss, firm and gentle, your thumb stroking reassuringly against his cheek. 
“So, about me painting you,” you said breathlessly once you pulled away. 
“Anything for you.I’d be honored to be your muse,” he grinned.
tag list: @xleiaorgana @neptunes-curse
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ladytauria · 5 months
Note
**KNOCKS THE DOOR DOWN**
27!!!! For the WIP game thingy
hehehe
(jaytim) empty promises p. 2
a sequel to this prompt! (inspired by you, lmao; the sad animal pics won me over xD)
which, to summarize, tim & jason have a big fight… and before it’s resolved, jason gets called to do a job with roy. it’s going to be a sort of 3+1 fic, focusing on 3 phone calls they share before jason comes home. the first two calls are written and now i’m stumped lmao
there’s… a lot i’d like to share; i’m pretty proud of what i’ve got but, um… have a snippet from phone call #2
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Tim tries to ignore the way his heart softens. “How’s progress?” he asks instead. The words are sour in his mouth. Work is… easier. He wishes it wasn’t. But he doesn’t know how to talk to Jason with this thing between them—and he doesn’t want to talk about it like this. Over the phone, with hundreds of miles separating them.
Jason hums. “In a minute,” he says. “Have you eaten yet today?”
“Not recently,” Tim says. He had a granola bar like, an hour ago. And he’s been munching on trail mix while he plays. So, not entirely the truth, but he wants to know where Jason is going with this.
“I was thinking, ah. Maybe we could eat together?” Jason offers, hesitantly. “I was just about to dive into some leftovers, and I thought… maybe…” He trails off, and then laughs, self-deprecatingly. “S’kinda stupid, I guess.”
“No,” Tim says, immediately. “No, it’s— That sounds nice, actually. Do… Did you want to switch to video?” He has some leftover takeout he didn’t finish last night. He’d ordered their usual on automatic, and, well. He could eat a lot, but not quite that much.
“Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good.”
Tim warms up his food before settling at the dinner table. Through the tinny phone speaker, he can hear Jason doing the same, and it warms him, despite himself. When Jason is ready, they hang up. Tim props his phone up, accepting the video call request from Jason.
The screen is heavily pixelated at first, but soon, the graininess clears away to show Jason. Tim can’t make out any details about the room he’s in; not on such a tiny screen. But he can see the man himself—looking tired, a little worn, but… He’s smiling, too. There’s a nervous edge to it, but. It’s sincere.
He finds himself smiling back, wondering if he looks as tired and lonely as he feels. “Hey,” he says, more softly than he means.
“Hey,” Jason repeats, his tone the same.
For a minute they just sit there and look at each other.
Then Jason swallows, and says, “You—uh. You asked about the job?”
He almost takes it back—asks Jason how he’s been sleeping, instead; if he reaches for Tim in his sleep the same way Tim has been reaching for Jason. He almost tells him to forget the job, forget the argument. Just come home.
Almost.
“Yeah,” he says. “I did.”
[ wip ask game ]
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pensat-i-fet · 1 year
Text
Wrong first impression (Ferran Torres x Reader)
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Part 2
**So no one requested this but I wanted to write it and here we are 🤗😅 allow me to be that person every once in a while. And enjoy!! ❤️**
Word count: 2335
Masterlist
Wattpad
“It’s so early”, I complain on my way to Patacona Beach, where we have to do some early morning training.
“It’s the perfect time to train. The only people there will be tourists finding a spot to put their beach umbrellas”.
“I guess”.
But Jorge is actually wrong, because when we get to the area of the beach we always use for our training, there is someone else there.
"Buenos días" (Good morning), we say when we walk past them
"Buenos días".
I know that guy…
"Is that Ferran Torres?", I whisper.
"Who?"
"Right. I forgot you know nothing about football".
"Oh, a footballer player? I can see that. Very fit".
"And of course you would notice that".
"I mean fit body for his job".
"Sure, darling".
We keep placing the equipment on the sand, same as Ferran and his trainer.
"So, who does he play for?"
"Barça but he used to play for Valencia".
"That tone lets me know the break up wasn't good".
Comparing a player leaving for another team with a break-up is a pretty good analogy, actually.
"He left to go to England so whatever. But then came back and celebrated scoring against us".
"Did he take his shirt off? For the celebration, I mean".
"No".
"I can see why it bothered you then".
I just roll my eyes.
Since I don’t want to be here all day, we get on with the training. I’m still recovering from a small injury so it’s vital I make sure not to overwork certain muscles. And that also means we have to stop several times for Jorge to make sure we’re doing it right. He’s my trainer but is also studying sport medicine so no one can help me more than him.
“I need more tape. Let me run to the pharmacy quickly”.
“Ok, I’ll rest”.
He’s always forgetting things so I’m not surprised. And I can use the rest so I sit down, stretching my legs every couple of seconds so the muscles don’t get too cold.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ferran doing the same. His trainer is also gone…I wonder if he forgets things all the time as Jorge does. When he notices me looking, he smiles and I just give him a small smile in return and look away.
“Are you an athlete too?”
“Yeah”.
“I don’t know if you know me. I’m…”.
“I know you”.
“Was that a good I know you or a bad I know you?”, he laughs and some past thoughts flood my mind again. I might have had a crush on him before he left for City.
“Let’s say neutral”.
“I’ll take it. My trainer had to go talk to another client. Where’s yours?”
I didn’t expect him to make small talk but I guess it’s better than sitting here alone.
“He forgot to bring more tape. He’s lucky I can’t fire him because he always forgets something”.
“You can’t fire him…because he’s your boyfriend?”
“What?”, I try not to look disgusted but can’t help it.
“I mean. I get trainers might have to be a bit touchy but he was a lot touchy and you smiled at each other a lot, so I assumed…”.
Was he staring at us the whole time or something? “He’s my brother”.
“Now I get why you looked so disgusted. Sorry”.
But instead of looking sorry, he just starts to laugh.
“You’re so weird”.
“I’ve been called worse”, he shrugs, standing up and walking to where I am.
When we got here, it was still pretty dark but now the sun is rising there is a gorgeous orange hue around us. One that makes him look even more handsome. And the fact that he's not wearing a shirt doesn't help. Damn it! I'll go back to thinking about his celebration.
“Do you want to train with me?”, he asks, offering his hand. “They might take a while and we don’t want to get cold”.
I hesitate for a second before taking his hand and letting him help me get up. “I’m recovering from an injury, I can’t do much”.
“That’s ok. What sport do you practice?”
“Athletics. I participate in as many categories as I can qualify for”.
“Impressive. I just run and kick a ball”.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Torres. You score sometimes too”.
My comment brings his laughter back. “Valencia or Madrid then?”
“What?”
“The team you support. Because you don’t seem to like me much”.
“If you insinuate again I support Madrid, I’d like you even less”.
“So Valencia…”.
He walks to where his equipment is and I follow. Why? I don't know.
"Do you ever do boxing to train?", he asks me, picking up the gloves.
"Yeah, kickboxing too but I probably shouldn't force my legs too much. Not without Jorge supervising. Jorge is my brother, by the way. Not my boyfriend".
"A lot of athletes have affairs with their trainers. It wouldn't be that strange".
"Have you had any with yours?"
"Not with my trainers. But with some of my training partners…well, it happens".
I know it happens because that's how I met my ex but I'm not going to tell him. Also, I can tell he's flirting and I'm not interested. So agreeing with him would only give him the wrong impression.
"Who does the punching first?"
"You need the practice more", I say and he raises an eyebrow. "Because of your fight with Savic. He clearly won so you know, you need to practice for next time".
"Do you think he won that fight?", I nod. "You might have to watch it again. Or we could recreate it so you see I was in control the whole time".
When I look up to meet his eyes, I realise how close to me he is. And how nervous he's making me feel.
"So, do you want to start or not? I'm happy to punch you".
My words make him smirk but he moves back a little. "Show me what you got, then".
I take the gloves he's offering me and look down at them, trying to take deep breaths that aren't too obvious. It's just the crush I used to have. I'm sure of that. Nothing else.
I didn't lie when I said we do kickboxing for practice. And that's why the punches aren't enough. I'm itching to kick too. My legs are a lot stronger and I want to show Ferran how strong I am.
"Move back so I can kick you".
"Wow, I heard about that flirting technique but I thought it only involved insulting. Kicking me too…well, it could be worth it".
I bit my lip, trying to resist his teasing. "You might want to move one of your hands lower".
"Why?"
"Because you're making me want to kick you somewhere else that's not protected like your hands".
But he just laughs and puts his arms up so I can kick.
I try both legs slowly and when I feel more confident, I kick with my right leg. Hard.
"Jesus! You're strong".
"Regretting your teasing now?"
"Kinda…".
I just smile before the next kick and then I feel it, a little discomfort on my thigh. I put my head down and groan, frustrated.
"What's wrong?"
"I'm feeling something on my thigh. It's the same whenever I exercise too much. I can't wait to fully recover because I hate being only 50% fit".
"I get how you feel".
His voice sounds softer and I look up at him and see understanding in his eyes. He's obviously had injuries too.
"We can switch now. So I have a little rest…", but before I have time to finish talking, I see Jorge coming back.
I might have forgotten about him for a second.
He looks at me and then at Ferran, curious.
"I was trying not to get cold but I hurt myself a little".
"You what?"
Hearing about that takes all the weird ideas off his head. Just what I wanted.
"I stopped before I fully hurt myself. It's just the same discomfort I've been having".
"What did you make her do?"
Something people don't get is how protective of me my brother is. Too much sometimes.
"It was my idea, Jorge. Let's just go back and finish our training", I tell him, grabbing his arm. "Thanks for keeping me company, Torres".
"No problem. Maybe I'll see you tomorrow?"
"I've got gym tomorrow".
"Ok. Another day maybe".
"Maybe".
Jorge makes me sit immediately so he can touch the area that hurts and make sure it's not something worse than overworked muscles. And once he's happy, we finish the exercise routine we always do at the beach.
By the time we are done packing our things, I see Ferran stretching after finishing his own workout. We have to walk past him on the way out of the beach and when he looks our way, I wave at him. That gets a smile from him before he waves back.
"How did you end up training with the footballer? I can't leave you alone".
"He asked me and I thought it could be a good way to keep moving while you were away".
"Right", Jorge's tone is already annoying me before he keeps talking. "What was his name again?"
"Ferran Torres".
"Didn't you used to have his shirt?"
Of course, he remembers. "He was supposed to be our next star so I guess a lot of fans did too".
"Was that the only reason…".
"Stop talking", I say, glaring at him.
"Got it. But if you want a new one, he might be happy to get one for you".
Ugh, siblings!
                                      **
The next day, we start the day at the gym and once I'm back home, I shower and put on a nice summer dress to go grab something to drink with some friends.
We’re meeting at a bar we only go to in the summer, since it’s closer to the beach. But when I get there, I check my phone and realise how early it is. Typical. I’m early and they’ll be super late.
I make my way to the terrace anyways. I can have a drink while I wait for them. And then I hear voices coming closer and assume it’s the owners who saw me get here, coming to see what I want to order. But…it isn’t just them.
"Let's go outside to take a photo. Maybe there is someone around who can take it for us", says the lady I recognize as the owner. “This lovely girl can help us maybe. And I’ll take your order in a second”.
She notices Ferran looking at me and I say a very shy hi to him which he returns.
"Oh, you know each other?"
"Sort of”, he says.
"Can you take the photo, darling?"
"Of course".
I get up and pick up the phone she’s offering so I can take the photos. “Done”.
She checks the photos, showing them to Ferran.
"Look at you. I've known him since he was a baby, you know?", she says looking at me. "And now look at him. So grown up and handsome".
Yeah, I can agree with her on that second part.
“Since you know each other, you keep her company for a second and I’ll be right back to get her order, ok?”
I sit down and Ferran stands next to my table.
"Done with training for today?"
"Yes, we did gym in the morning and now time to relax".
"Cool. Are you meeting someone?"
"Some friends but knowing them, they won't be here for another half an hour".
"If you want a drink while you wait, I can ask for it. They never allow me to pay so you’ll get it for free".
"It's ok. I can wait …".
"What do you usually drink?"
"Nestea?"
"Be right back".
"You don't have to…".
But he doesn’t listen to me and a couple of minutes later, he is back with my drink and a little tapa.
“Do they make you work for them?”
He chuckles. “Sometimes. You know, I’m glad we meet again. I got the feeling that your brother, not your boyfriend, was a bit mad at me. I’ve been thinking about it”.
He had? “He’s ok. Just worried about my injuries”.
“Still. I don’t like giving such a bad first impression. Unless he hates me too and it wasn’t really the first”.
“He doesn’t care about football. You’re safe”.
“What about you? Do you hate me?”
I shake my head. “Just got the wrong impression when you celebrated that goal against us. But I guess you’re not that bad”.
We stay in silence for a second and I eat some of the olives to keep myself occupied.
“I’m going on holiday tomorrow”, he says, surprising me.
“Ok?”
“And then I’ll go back to Barcelona”.
“Are you trying to get somewhere with this information? I don’t think I need your schedule”, I say, chuckling slightly.
“Do you ever go to Barcelona for competitions?”
“Pretty often, actually”.
“Can we meet when you do?”
“To go to the beach for a morning training?”, I tease.
“I was thinking about going on a date but I guess there is time for that too”.
We both just look at each other, our faces getting closer slowly. I guess that crush never really left.
“Hi! Have you been waiting here for long? And who is this?”
I move back and turn to see my friends. “Hi, this is Ferran. He was just keeping me company while you got here. And you’re early…for once”. How inconvenient.
“I’ll go now”, says Ferran and I panic a little because if he leaves now, I won’t see him again. “Nice seeing you again”.
He moves closer to me again to kiss my cheek as a goodbye. But before moving away, he whispers in my ear. “Send me your number in a DM on Instagram. You know my account”.
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junosmindpalace · 2 years
Note
I honestly can’t remember if i asked this recently so feel free to ignore if i have… but what if there was an alternate ending to the dr. stone hanahaki disease where senku reciprocates y/n’s feelings?
thank you for your request and patience! brandon mcinnis kept popping up in other animes i was watching and inspired me to actually start writing my requests. Thanks brandon. The series continues…
--- ! warnings: brief mentions of death
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The Hanahaki disease was a mysterious and controversial illness learned about through the 100 tales. A woman, whose romantic feelings for a loved one were unrequited, had died from the disease that involved choking to death on flowers. The ailment was so obscure to Ishigami Village that you hardly believed in it growing up. 
That was until you coughed up petals of your own. You had been reflecting on your relationship with your friend Senku, a strange man from the past who brought an extraordinary amount of knowledge to the village, when scarce known symptoms of the illness first arose. You admired him greatly and overtime realized you had developed romantic feelings for him. 
But you knew how Senku felt about romance. It was completely off the table, and the thought of your feelings being unrequited accepted immediately as fact, despite not knowing for certain, sent you into a panic and triggered the beginning stages of the Hanahaki disease.
After you started coughing up more petals more frequently, you would disappear in order to sort yourself out without having to worry about a villager’s watchful gaze. As time went on, you knew that your unexplainable and sudden absences would start to become more prominent, even worse that a pattern would start to take form in them, but you thought you did a decent job excusing yourself from the start. 
And you were right. Most of the villagers, even if initially confused or suspicious, bought off any and all excuses you offered, not thinking it anymore than a reaction to the weather or the intensive labor. You managed to convince most of the village, except for the leader himself.
Senku’s eye and mind were especially sharp after becoming chief of Ishigami Village. He had a lot of people to manage, and every contribution mattered to the projects they were attempting to pull off. The scientist took notice of your random absences around him, and though he thought they were suspicious, they also affected Senku in ways he didn’t expect. Somehow, they made the time the two of you spent together more valuable in Senku’s subconscious, as you seemed to always be preoccupied with something else.
Upon taking notice of the eagerness he felt when he was around you, Senku was forced to reflect. Working on science projects absolutely made Senku excited, but there was something that made the experience all the more thrilling when you were beside him helping. Whether it was a helpful hand or a listening ear, his love of working with you differed a little to how he felt about working with the others. And he realized through the lengthy periods of time that you were away from him and or the group that he missed your presence. That his thoughts would wander almost anxiously off to think about who you may be spending your time with, realizing that he preferred it if you spent it with him. And through these realizations he came to a startling conclusion- that he had developed feelings for you. 
But obviously you didn’t know this, and obviously one of Senku’s first attempts at trying to get rid of these feelings was ignoring you a little more than usual like you had been doing, and during this period your Hanahaki only got worse, as it fueled your thought of Senku not returning your feelings. 
The distance Senku attempted to put between the two of you didn’t work out like he wished it would’ve, and he slowly went back to being himself around you, something that both of you silently preferred. Your feelings for each other grew with each passing day, and it was killing you both, in your case literally. The ironic thing was that neither of you knew it.
At some point, Senku got sick of not saying anything. You kept leaving the group unexpectedly and he had no idea where, and for a while he thought maybe you had found out about his feelings and started avoiding him. The whole situation was a mess that somehow nobody caught on to, not even the two people involved in the situation. 
So Senku confronted you the evening after first reconnecting with Taiju and Yuzuriha and gaining Nikki as an ally. It was the first time in a while the two of you were working together comfortably, and to Senku’s embarrassment, the victories he obtained along with a feeling of peace encouraged him to speak up about his feelings, because he really wanted more moments like those. 
But at the same time, he was scared his feelings would just scare you off even more. Still, Senku felt the need to clear the air. He didn’t want anything coming in between your work, and he certainly didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.
So as everyone settled down for the night, he pulled you into the lab and asked if the two of you could talk. 
Both of you were unbelievably nervous, and the situation is almost hilarious. You were worried that Senku had found out about the disease and about your feelings for him, and Senku was worried that you’d be disgusted with him and that his feelings will get in the way of any work the two of you needed to do together. He started off with some small talk, confused as you watched him pace around nervously and avoid eye contact with you. 
A brief moment of tense silence fell over the two of you before Senku spoke up and confessed. You were stunned. You almost didn’t believe him. No, not almost; you didn’t believe him at all. But even you know that there was no reason for him to lie about it, because Senku was always sincere when it came to you, and you swore you felt the heaviness of your lungs lift from your chest and the scratchiness of your throat clear away. It was incredible how light you felt after Senku’s confession.
You put a hand to your throat, which confused Senku. Were you seriously so disgusted with him that you felt physically ill? But then you quickly looked up at him, catching him off guard, and hurriedly sputtered out a confession of your own. 
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You and Senku didn’t immediately label yourselves, nor did you share your confession with anyone but Gen, who was more than happy (and more than taken aback) that your feelings for Senku were mutual and that you weren’t both burdened with the Hanahaki disease.
It wasn’t until a little while later that the two of you actually talked about the disease. Even though you were cured, you still felt horribly for letting your feelings become so strong that they manifested in the form of an illness. Senku gazed at you with a grim look as you told him the timeline of your experience with the disease, from his celebration party, to Gen connecting the dots and helping cover for you, to the immediate lightness you felt when you realized Senku reciprocated your feelings. All the while you couldn’t look him in the eye. 
“That was a close one you know. You could’ve left me feeling responsible for your death.” And you held your breath, enormous guilt overwhelming you because that’s exactly what you didn’t want. But then suddenly, you felt a sharp pain shoot through your head. “Ow!”
Senku leaned over with his hand in the air. “But you didn’t, so stop looking so gloomy.” 
“I could say the same for you!” 
To think that a misunderstanding could’ve been the reasoning for your death.
Senku chuckled. Yeah, things could’ve turned out a whole lot differently were it not for his confession. But you were here, you were safe, and you liked him back. And for once, Senku decided to focus on the present and be thankful to have you by his side instead of hyper fixating on the ‘what ifs’ of the past and future. 
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blues824 · 1 year
Note
Hello there! Not sure if you're open or not but for my request can I have the obey me brothers with a Diablo from that time I got reincarnated as a slime
Black hair with streaks of red and gold, as well as golden eyes with black sclerae, Noir was finely dressed in garments like that of a prince. Other than that, he looked like a normal human, though he was able to unfold wings as well.
Diablo's change in appearance is possibly the least drastic after any evolution, with only his princely garments being replaced by a Butler outfit, reflecting his wish to serve Rimuru. Despite that, however, his dignity did not decrease, but rather increased instead.
The greatest show of Diablo's loyalty to Rimuru was recruiting hundreds of other daemons, including the last three Primordials, to serve his master; the creation of the Black Numbers, who became the de facto strongest fighting force in Tempest.
Diablo also despises owing a debt, even to someone who has already passed on. Shizu's replacement, Tiss attempted a desperate summon to save Shizu's Students from a Phantom, only for the unnamed Diablo to offer his aid for what was practically a pittance of a price by forbidding her from mentioning his involvement, and proceeded to slaughter the aggressor in a truly horrific fashion, thus fulfilling his debt.
I tend to stray away from describing the reader.
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Lucifer
Mans likes you so much, you don’t even know
You were competent, you were level-headed, you were dedicated to Diavolo
He also liked how you hated owing someone something
You were nothing like his younger brothers, and you reminded him a lot of Barbatos, actually
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Mammon
He thought you had a stick up your ass half the time
Only to find out that you were just loyal to Diavolo
Mammon is in massive debt, and you hated it. So before you got together, you said that he needed to pay off his debt so that you could be with him
When you both got together, he would cling to your ankle and beg you to give him more attention before you go off to work
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Leviathan
Holy shit you’re Barbatos but different!
ANYWAYS, he has probably idolizing you because you reminded him of a character he has seen in an anime
He definitely gets jealous when your job takes your time and attention away from him
Will sit and sulk until you cave in and stay home for the day so that you can be with him (rarely works, but is kind of effective)
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Satan
He appreciated you because of your competence
But he hated how your dedication to Diavolo knew no bounds
Your relationship contains him helping you with your chores around the castle as well as you listening to him rant about how Lucifer sucks
Like a lot of the other brothers, he craves your love and affection, but unlike a lot of the other brothers, he respects your time
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Asmodeus
Tries to seduce you the minute he is introduced to you
Upon seeing that it didn’t work, he was very surprised.
He is doing mathematical equations that he has never seen before. 
However, like we originally do in the game, we see him for him and not for his beauty, and that’s what he appreciates about you
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Beelzebub
He just wishes you wouldn’t push yourself so hard for Diavolo
Like, he understands your loyalty, but still
I don’t think he likes owing anybody anything, so he’s on board with you there
That aside, he shows you all due respect and love and understanding
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Belphegor
This guy hates Diavolo, and he hates him even more when he sees how you spend 99.9% of your time working for the prince
Plus, that bastard is stealing your attention away from him
He can’t sleep without you
On a completely unrelated note, he hates owing debts as well.
142 notes · View notes
capnmachete · 23 days
Text
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Johnny Davis x plus-size fem!OC (Period piece -- mid-1960s, Bikeriders universe but canon-divergent)
PART 4: A Brand-New Fool Gettin' ahead of yourself; the problem with an active imagination.
By-request tags: @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler; @zablife; @lou1333 If anybody else wants to be tagged, just LMK.
(Part 1, Part 2. and Part 3)
Part 4: A Brand-New Fool You always hate it when Gus is right.  Partly because he gloats like nobody’s business and gets damn near insufferable, and partly because you don’t like being wrong.  And partly also because he runs his mouth when he’s gloating, and pretty soon everybody, including prissy Tiffany, knows your business.
You especially hate it when he’s right about somethin’ that matters to you.  And – to your own little-bit-embarrassed surprise – Johnny Davis matters to you. 
And the fact that he’s married after all? That matters to you, too.  Prolly a whole lot more than it ought to, given as how y’all have only spent a few hours together, here and there, each one a month or two apart.
But that damn night with the pie and the silly flirtin’ has done stuck in your mind something terrible.  So has that boyish smile and those big hands, them dark blue-gray eyes and the way they twinkle.  The way he calls you Miss Corrina even after you tell him not to bother, like you’re somethin’ special. 
All of that has done set up shop up there in between your ears, fillin’ your head with all kinds of silly romantic what-if notions.  Daydreams of ridin’ around in the cab of that big ol’ red Peterbilt, seein’ what the world outside pokey little LaGrange has to offer.  Maybe kissin’ those soft-pink out-of-place lips, feelin’ those big hands set on your hips where they look like they’d fit just right. The very idea makes you tingle in a way it prolly shouldn't, makes you feel like maybe you ain't really the good girl you think you are, at least not altogether.
Even Momma’s caught you woolgatherin’ – standin’ at the counter while the sink damn near overflows, a faint little hundred-miles-away smile on your lips, eyes all hazy.  “What in the devil’s got into you lately, ‘Reena?” she asks you, mouth all pursed up, leanin’ past you to shut off the water before you flood the kitchen.  “I swear it’s like you’ve done lost your mind, walkin’ around with your head in the clouds.”   She tut-tuts, and then cuts her eyes at you, suspicious.  “You and Melvin Hoskins ain’t – “
She don’t say anything else. But she don’t have to – gives you that look like maybe she thinks you’re out bein’ the Whore of Babylon when you’re not pourin’ coffee and dishin’ out eggs and tidyin’ up around the house.  “Jeezum Petes, Momma!”  you snap at her.  "Really?"
Does she really think you wanna be stuck in some little crackerbox house with a gas-station boy, ironin' greasy uniforms and poppin’ out little Hoskinses for the rest of your days?  No thank you, not on your life.  The thought makes you shudder a little bit. “Melvin Hoskins?  Please.  Psssh.”  You elbow her out of the way and get to washin’ dishes.  Gus’ job at the diner; yours at home.  
“Well, y’all been passin’ the time together, a little,” Momma reminds you, all prim, and hands you a plate.  You dunk it in the hot water and hold it under there for a minute, pretendin’ it’s Melvin and his haw-haw laugh and his grabby hands.  “He ain’t a bad lookin’ boy, not really, ‘cept for the teeth,” she points out.  “And you can’t afford to be too picky,” she says, with a not-so-subtle look at your backside.
And that dish in your hands under the water? For just a minute it turns from Melvin to Momma – from grabby hands and teeth already a lil’ brown from Skoal to a head full of curlers and a prissy little disapprovin’ mouth, a housecoat with flowers in colors you ain’t never seen in actual nature.  “Passin’ time is the onliest thing we’ve been doin,” you say, voice all icy. You give the dish a good scrub, maybe a little harder than you really need to, and clink it into the dryin' rack near hard enough to chip it. “And I’ll be as picky as I please, thank you very much.”
“I’m just sayin,” Momma continues, a little chastened but not givin’ up.  “Thirty’s just around the corner; most of the girls you went to school with are married now, raisin’ babies.  Givin’ their mommas grandkids to fuss over.”
“Well, most of the girls I went to school with are stupid,” you grumble.  Not that you really mean it. You went to school with Sharlette, after all, and she ain’t stupid, just unlucky.   And with Tonya down at the Krazy Kurl, and she’s pretty damn smart – runnin’ her own salon and everything.  A success story.  And there’s plenty of others that are nice.  And not stupid at all, even if they’re content to stay in LaGrange and do nothin’ but clean up after husbands and raise babies and look at the same damn corn and laundrymat and gas station every day.
You’re just feelin’ grouchy and snappish because you got busted daydreamin’ about Johnny Davis.  Again.  ---
Who you find out before too long that you got no business daydreamin’ about.
It don’t happen right away – you see him once more, twice more.  Both times that nice smile and that “Miss Corinna”, coffee and pie. Both times visitin’ and flirtin’ a little in between customers.
By the third time it’s kinda become your routine, the thing the two of you do.  Gus don’t even look twice anymore when Johnny comes behind the counter to fetch out pie and coffee.  It’s lemon meringue this time. The after-Friday-night-football crowd had done come through a few hours earlier and cleaned you out of chocolate cream and coconut cream, tore right through those pies like a swarm of locusts.
Lemon meringue’s not your favorite – not by a long stretch – but it tastes a little better tonight. Sweeter, when you’re eatin’ it with a handsome trucker who smiles at you and treats you like a lady.  And looks at you like you might be the prettiest thing he ever saw, like that extra twenty or so pounds and that big backside Momma’s always pointin’ out don’t matter at all.
And the two of you talk, like you always do, in little dribs and drabs between customers, from the time the big red semi rolls into the lot right up until Johnny’s gotta go again.  Like usual tonight, it’s mostly you doin’ the talkin, but he chimes in a little too – not a big talker, just a few words here and there. 
And you start findin' out things -- a little at a time He's from Illinois.  Long-haul trucker; used to just drive a route in town but started drivin' over the road a few years ago. Likes lemon meringue pie, somethin' you file away for future reference. Rides a motorbike back home, races' em sometimes. That makes you laugh because it's hard to imagine; onliest bikers you ever met are scruffy and dirty and wild-lookin, nothin' like the clean-cut truckdriver in front of you with his tucked-in flannel shirt and good manners and neat slicked-back hair.
He laughs too. Grins, like maybe it ain't the first time he's gotten that reaction. "Yeah, I know," he says, with a shrug. "Prolly gettin' a little too old for all that. Silly, right? But I like it." No sillier than readin' romance novels, you decide, and tell him so.
You find out he's thirty-eight. It might be rude to ask a lady her age, but you ain't ever heard anybody say it was rude to ask a man. And you're feelin' fine and bold, so you just right up and ask. And he tells you that, and then some. Lives in Chicago, a great big city, the kind of place you might like to see one day.
And got two kids – girls, cute little blond things a couple years apart.  He takes out his wallet, shows you their pictures, touchin' the plastic over each photo like he misses 'em. "Deborah. And Patsy," he tells you, gray-blue eyes goin' all soft. 
He don’t say anything about a wife, but he doesn’t have to – you see the little-bit-lighter spot on one finger where a wedding ring most probably ought to be. Maybe oughta have noticed it before. Might actually have noticed it if you hadn't been tryin' so hard not to. Between that, and the two little stairstep girls, and the fact that he flirts with you and talks to you but never tries to get fresh?   Well, you don’t have to be a genius to figure out he’s got a wife at home.  Prolly just as pretty and blond as the two little princesses in the pictures, maybe just as petite as Tiffany.
Your heart sinks a little bit.  Okay, maybe it don’t just sink, maybe it kinda breaks, but that’s your own damn fault.  Momma always says you got an overactive imagination, and she’s right – you’ve done talked yourself into a big fat crush on Johnny Davis.  Into thinkin’ he’is some kinda Prince Charming in a Peterbilt, fixin’ to fall in love with you and swoop you up and carry you off like one of those too-handsome-to-be-real fellas on the covers of the novels from the library.
And all without slowin’ down to find out for sure if he’s taken or not.  And whether he even thinks about you that way, or is just a good-lookin’ man with nice manners and pretty eyes, who’s just passin’ the time.  You are, in short, a doggone fool, and have done gone and broken your own heart.
It ain’t like you expected any different.  Shouldn’t have expected anything different, anyways.  All the nice guys, the good ones? They're taken, so far as you’ve seen.  Only the odds and ends left over, idiots like Melvin, or old grumpy guys like Gus.  Sure, there’s some single truck jockeys that pass through, but mostly they’re only lookin’ for a friendly face and a little chitchat over coffee.  Or a one-nighter at a motel, and you aren’t that kinda girl.  And they’ve mostly got their eyes on the size-twos like Tiffany anyway, all blond hair and sparkly eyeshadow and big boobs on display, pink uniform unbuttoned low enough to show off the goods.
You do your damndest not to let the disappointment show on your face. But you must look at least a little deflated, because Johnny stops halfway through tuckin’ his wallet back away and gives you a look.  Soft-eyed again, and careful like, studyin’ your face.  “You alright, sweetheart?” he asks you, brow all furrowed up.  And while it mighta lit up you like a Christmas tree bein’ called sweetheart before, now you just wish he wouldn’t.  Because he don’t mean it like you wish he meant it.
“Oh, I’m fine,” you fib, hopin’ you’re a better liar than everybody says you are.  “Just achy feet,” you toss in, although it ain’t your feet that are achin’. 
Maybe Johnny buys it, maybe he doesn’t.  He looks at you for an extra-long second, and you wonder if he knows more than he’s lettin’ on.  But he lets it pass.  “Glad you’re gettin’ to sit for a minute then,” he tells you. "Rest up."   And things stay a little stiff and awkward for a few minutes, but soon you’re back to yappin’ again, although maybe not with as much verve as usual.
And after he leaves – over to Lincoln, Nebraska this time, to drop off a load of sewin’ machines and pick up a trailerful of dry goods – Gus takes one good look at you, mouth open and ready to smart off.   And then he closes it again, and don’t say nothin’.  Except “Whyn’t ya get yourself a Coke and set a spell, Corinna?  Ain’t all that busy right now, not really.”  
And you wonder just exactly how pitiful you must look. Wonder what-all must be showin’ on your face, if even crochety old Gus feels sorry for you. ___ Song inspo: Fools Fall in Love, the Drifters
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