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#i’m not doing it right now. i’m too frazzled
x0xomady · 1 day
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broken cd (pt.1)
˖⁺‧₊⟡₊˚⊹
summary: you’re an assistant for a designer at prada, and you run into a mucisian on the streets of manhattan which leads to a long night of music, pizza, and fuzzy blankets. (rockstar!harry x fashiondesigner!reader)
warnings: smut in part 2! (they just makeout in part 1)
playlist to listen to while reading: 🎧
a/n: was this based on a cheesy "sex in the city" or “the devil wears prada” reference? yeah 100%. is this a corny romcom plotline? yes absolutely, don’t be a hater. this is just cliché after cliché after cliché. i honestly like the second half more, but enjoy!
˖⁺‧₊⟡₊˚⊹
‧˚⊹ October 15, 2003 ⊹˚‧
you LOATHED your job.
no, scratch that, you didn’t hate it, you just heavily disliked the work that you had to do. when breaking into the fashion industry, everyone knows you have to start from the bottom. you know that to, that doesn’t mean it’s fun.
your boss, an executive designer for prada, was currently making you run through the streets of manhattan with three bags of clothes, dry cleaning, and two cups of coffee.
of course, it was an opportunity of a life time to be able to work for someone with so much power, but still. it didn’t make it any better that it was 40 degrees and raining.
“shitshitshit” you try to run as quickly as you can in your heels to catch the cab, but some business man in a suit gets there before you. “asshole.” you mumble to yourself and groan in frustration as you try to find another taxi.
the streets are filled with rain and mist, making the cars drive slower, and taxis less available.
you huff in frustration and turn around, desperately trying to keep a grip on the drink holder and clothes. THUD
“ah!” you gasp in surprise as your body meets another, effectively knocking all of the coffee out of your hands and onto the floor. you stumble back, stepping on something on the ground.
“shit-” you hear a voice come from the person you just hit.
you look up, blinking raindrops out of your eyes. in front of you is a man, roughly your age, with a leather jacket and messy brown hair. he's looking down at the mess of spilled coffee on the sidewalk, then back up at you.
“ah fucking hell-" he mutters, noticing the cd of his that you stepped on.
there’s a pang of guilt as you look at the ruined cd. "i'm so sorry," you say, trying to keep your balance on your heels. "i wasn't looking where i was going."
you pick up the broken cd and it’s case and hold it out for the man apologetically, also grabbing the coffee cups that had dumped all over the ground.
the man looks at you for a moment, then takes the cd from you.
"thanks," he says, "but i think it's a little too late.” he holds up the broken cd, which is in two jagged pieces.
a horrible rush of guilt and also panic that you had just lost all the coffee for your boss runs through you.
“oh god- i’m SO sorry, i- here take this” you quickly pull out your wallet and hand him a twenty dollar bill.
the man looks at the bill and then back at you with a small smile as he helps you pick up the spilled coffee cups and put them in a trash can.
"uh, no it’s alright, love. i’m afraid that was a cd i made, so money won’t do much."
you look at the cd in his hand, now realizing that it’s a homemade music cd, not something you can buy at a store, and feel your guilt double.
“oh- i’m so sorry, i didn’t realize.” you say, feeling even worse now.
he shakes his head and pushes his damp hair out of his eyes.
“it’s fine, it happens,” he helps you adjust the clothes and bags in your arms so that you’re not dropping everything. “are you alright? you seem a bit frazzled.”
you nod, trying to keep your emotions in check. there was an overwhelming since of anxiety and guilt
“i’m fine, just in a hurry.” you glance down at your watch. “i need to get these things to my boss, like, right now. i’m so sorry about your cd-”
the man smiles and shakes his head again. "really, it's no problem. it was nothing important."
you feel a little relief at his nonchalant attitude, but you're still feeling guilty for ruining something of his.
"are you sure? i feel terrible. is there anything i can do to make it up to you?" you ask, shifting your weight awkwardly on your heels. you had to leave, but you didn’t want to just break this man’s cd and then run away.
the man looks at you, a hint of amusement in his eyes, the rain was picking up, leaving some drops to fall from his curls.
"i'll tell you what, you make it up to me by helping me out. i’m supposed to bring a pretty girl to my concert tonight, and i don’t have anyone yet."
you blink, surprised by his proposition.
"your… concert?" you say, your mind quickly racing back to your boss and the bags of clothes in your arms. you were a bit nervous to be around this very attractive man, so you spit out the first lame excuse that comes to mind “i, um, i have work…”
he grins, clearly enjoying the look on your face. "oh, come on, it’s not until 9. just pop by and hang out with me for a bit. it’s just a gig at webster hall, nothing too fancy."
you think for a minute. was it really a good idea to agree if you didn’t know this guy? probably not, but, how often do you meet a hot british guy in new york?
“uh… alright, sure."
his smile widens, and he looks genuinely pleased that you agreed.
"great, i’ll give you my number so i can let you in."
he pulls out a sharpie from his pocket, takes the cd case that was broken and writes his phone number on one of the broken shards before handing it to you.
you stare at the broken cd in your hand for a moment, then look back at the man.
“so… i just need to go to the venue, and call you?" you ask, checking the time again.
he nods, shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. "that would do it, darling. can i have your name so i can tell them to let you in?”
you nod and smile a little bit, feeling less anxious and upset than you did five minutes ago. “yeah i’m y/n”
he grins “y/n, lovely name. i’m harry. i have to get to soundcheck, but i’ll see you later, yeah?”
he starts walking down the street but turns around and smiles. “be sure to look extra pretty tonight, gotta impress my friends!”
you nod and watch as he walks away, feeling a bit flustered at his comment. you look down at the broken cd shard in your hands, with his messy handwriting scribbled on it.
“okay then…” you mutter to yourself suddenly the realization that you were late to work and needed four new coffees hits you. “OH SHIT-”
⋆。˚⁺。 at the office 。⁺˚。⋆
after successfully running two blocks to get more coffee, running two more blocks back to get to the office, you made it. your boss wasn't angry, just neutral and stern as usual.
“thank you, y/n, phoebe should have your assignment on her desk.” your boss takes a sip of her coffee without looking up from the sheets she was looking through, waving for you to leave.
(a/n: i 1000% thought about gisele bündchen in the devil wears prada when i was writing phoebe. this is so cliché im sorry)
you nod and walk back out to your desk. your friend and co-worker, phoebe, is sitting at her desk. she immediately sits up and looks at you as you approach your desk.
“you’re late. i was beginning to get worried.” she says, putting the papers for the new design on your desk. “what happened?”
you sigh and sit down in your chair, putting your head in your hands.
“ugh, don’t even ask. i stepped on music that some hot english guy made and had to run around manhattan looking for more coffee because i destroyed the first three cups on the sidewalk.”
phoebe's eyes widen at the mention of the hot english guy.
“wait, wait, wait.” she says, leaning forward in her chair. “hold on, rewind. who is this hot guy?”
you roll your eyes a little, amused by her excitement.
"his name is harry. he said he's a musician performing at webster hall tonight. he's the guy who owned the cd i destroyed.”
you reach into your pocket and pull out the shard of the broken cd that had his name and phone number on it.
phoebe's eyes seem on the verge of popping out of her head as she grabs the shard from your hand and reads the messy handwriting.
"he gave you his phone number? and you’re going to his gig tonight? this is the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen!"
you smile and take the shard back from her. "i'm not even sure why i agreed. i've got work and i don't really know anything about him or his music”
phoebe's grins and leans back her chair, looking smug. "oh, please, you know exactly why you agreed. it’s because he’s hot and british."
you roll your eyes again, but your face flushes for a moment.
"okay, fine, but there’s still a chance his music sucks, then what?" you ask, picking up the papers and starting to look through your work.
she shrugs, looking unconvinced. "i suppose. but let's be real, there's no way a good-looking guy who's british and a musician is going to suck. that's just against the rules."
you scoff a little and shake your head, although you had to admit, phoebe had a point. most british rockstars are hot...
"alright, alright. but he could be a jerk, or crazy, or-"
"or you guys could fall madly in love and get married and live happily ever after and you show your kids this cute little cd" interrupts phoebe.
you laugh and roll your eyes. "yeah, or that. in reality, i'll probably end up going home after the gig and never hear from him again."
phoebe frowns at your negativity. "oh come on, have some optimism. maybe he's 'the one' and this is your meet cute."
you smile and shakes your head at her response, going through the new designs for your boss. "yeah, we’ll see.”
phoebe grins and turns back to her computer, typing as she speaks up again. “…. you’re gonna wear that mini skirt aren’t you?"
you smile and shrug, writing down notes for the designs.
“maybe"
phoebe hums in response and continues typing for a few seconds before responding
“someone’s trying to get lock him down-”
"shut up!"
⋆。˚⁺。 that night 。⁺˚。⋆
you did, in fact, wear the mini skirt. obviously.
how often did a sexy british musician come up to a girl in new york? never! this is a once in a life time opportunity, and you needed all the leather mini skirts you could find.
it only took about one mental breakdown, four calls with your friends, and a shot to convince you to leave the apartment.
there was a HIGH chance this guy was like every other up-and-coming mucisian in new york, annoying and pretentious. however, you were getting hope that maybe he wasn't as bad, he was pretty sweet this morning afterall.
(a/n: THIS is the outfit i imagined, but it's up to you! imagine whatever you would feel most comfortable in!)
you hail a cab and give the address for webster hall, looking at yourself in the mirror for the tenth time. you made sure to do a little heavier makeup than usual, and your leather mini skirt matched with your black sleeveless top and boots.
the cab pulls up in front of the building and you pay the driver. you look up at the building, it was already crowded with people lined outside the venue. you pull the cd shard out of your pocket and dial in the number written on it, holding the phone to your ear.
it rings a couple times before he picks up.
"hello? is this the pretty girl i ordered?” he asks, teasingly.
you smile and roll your eyes, even though he can’t see it. “yeah it’s her. she's waiting outside in the cold so you better hurry up, rockstar.”
he laughs, the sound of people chatting and music playing faintly in the background.
"rockstar, huh? i like that. gimme a minute, love, i just have to let security know you're here." you hear him talking to someone as the phone hangs up.
you put the phone back in your pocket and lean against the front of the building, waiting patiently as a few drops of rain fall from the sky. after a couple minutes of waiting a security guard appears in front of you, looking you up and down.
“are you y/n?”
you nod, adjusting your jacket. “yeah.”
the guard looks you over again before nodding and gesturing for you to follow him inside, going back through a door that lead into the venue.
you walk into room, which seemed to lead to backstage. people were either standing around chatting or sitting on the couch, some of them were holding instruments. you looked around, wondering where this man disappeared to.
you turn around and look at the man with the irish accent. he had a big smile on his face and was holding a guitar so he must be part of their band.
“hello, love! what are you doing here?” you practically jump out of your skin as a blonde man pops up behind you.
“oh- hi. i’m y/n, i’m looking for harry…”
the blonde man's smile widens and he nods, throwing an arm around your shoulders and leading you into the room.
“oh, yeah, he’s over by the couch. c’mon i’ll take you to him” he says, and you allow yourself to be led across the room to a couch in the corner where a group of three men were sitting.
one of the men sitting on the couch was the one you were looking for. harry was wearing a loose faded t-shirt and jeans, and he was laughing at something one of his friends said. he notices you and his eyes widen in surprise, and his smile widens.
“there you are!” he says, standing up and walking towards you, playfully shoving the blonde guy away. “niall will you back off? i don’t need you scaring the pretty girl before i have a chance”
niall laughs and puts his hands up in the air. “just showing her around. not trying to steal your girl.” he pats harry on the back before walking back over to the other guys.
harry turns back to you and grins, looking you over. “wow” he says, raising an eyebrow. “you look fantastic”
you smile and roll your eyes a little, he looked hot as well, but you weren’t going to say that out loud. “yeah, yeah, well i had to make sure i didn’t embarrass you while i made up for breaking your cd.
harry grins, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans, still looking you over approvingly.
“oh darling, i don’t think you could embarrass me even if you tried. now, the concert is about to start, but you can watch from the side stage or go sit down in the booth, whatever you want”
you nod, looking out at the growing crowd just outside the side stage. “side stage if that’s okay”
he grins excitedly and nods, grabbing your hand and leading you with him. “perfect. get a better view that way” he leads you around the side and down a narrow hallway to one side of the stage.
you followed him back, walking through the halls until you were out near the side stage. the music had already started and he turned back to you, still smiling.
“i have to go on now, but we’ll meet up after the show alright?” he asked, starting to hurry back towards the stage
you nod and smile as he runs off to go get his guitar and microphone. there were about 2,000 people in attendance, so needless to say it was cramped down below. you could see the hoards of people moving towards the stage as the lights dim and the music starts.
"who are you?"
you hear a voice behind you, and you turn around, met with a pretty brunette girl. she looks at you curiously as she walks over and stands next to you.
you look up and the girl who walked over next to you, returning the curious look.
“i’m y/n…” you say, wondering who this girl was and why she was talking to you.
“ohhh” she smiles in realization and stands next to you, looking at the crowd as well. “i’m amelia, niall’s girlfriend. harry was bragging earlier that he found a hot girl on the street and we didn’t believe him.”
you nod and smile at the mention of their disbelief. “yeah, he ran into me on the street this morning- well, actually, i ran into him, quite literally”
amelia nods and grins as she watches the guys on stage. “yeah, that sounds about right.”
she turns to look at you again, still smiling. “i heard you broke the infamous cd…”
you nod, a little embarrassed at the mention of the broken cd.
"yeah…. that happened. it didn’t happen to be important or anything… did it? harry didn’t tell me, but i felt really guilty about it.”
amelia smiles at your question and shrugs. “all the guys call it “the infamous cd” because they’re dorks. it’s just a lucky charm that harry carries around with him everywhere."
you sigh in relief and nod, a little glad you didn't actually ruin anything important. "lucky cd, huh? does it work?"
amelia laughs and shakes her head. “that’s what niall says - apparently it’s what got them their first record deal”
“really?” you ask, looking out at harry who was about to go on stage. “he didn’t tell me that. i feel even worse now…”
amelia shrugs and smiles again, looking amused. “don’t worry about it. harry’s a little dramatic, he just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”
there was a certain air of excitement in the crowded room, and the buzz of people talking around you slowly started to disappear as the music got louder. you leaned against the side of the the wall, peering into the crowded room as harry and his band stepped on stage.
the concert starts, people singing and screaming along to the lyrics. each song had deep bass, guitar solos, and of course harry singing. did you feel a little bit stupid for not recognizing a guy that was apparently famous on the street? yeah.
the concert continued like that for about an hour, harry’s voice filling up the whole room. he had a certain stage presence to him, something about his charisma that drew you in and captured your attention.
"She worked her way through a cheap pack of cigarettes Hard liquor mixed with a bit of intellect And all the boys, they were saying they were into it Such a pretty face on a pretty neck”
as harry sings the lyrics to his next song, your eyes widen in realization. oh… you DID know their songs.
you watch the rest of the concert dumbfounded by the fact that you didn't realize that harry was in one the most popular bands in the modern century. you were joking before, but, he really was a rockstar.
amelia notices your look and smiles a little, leaning over. “they’re good right?”
you nod in agreement, your eyes glued to the stage. “yeah, they’re amazing… i didn’t…i didn’t think he was famous when we met…”
amelia smirked a little as she watched your eyes follow Harry around the stage. “yeah, he’s really humble. you’ll never find him flaunting it. he’s a pretty good guy”
as the concert comes to a close, the crowd starts to cheer and scream for a final song.
harry, who was now glistening with sweat and grinning like an idiot, looked straight into the side stage where you were standing and nodded for you to follow him backstage.
amelia smiles and looks at you before you walk away. “well it was nice to meet you, i’m sure i’ll see you around sometime.”
“yeah, you too” you smile back and walk away from amelia, following him behind the side stage into the messy back rooms. you could still hear the crowd of people screaming and cheering just outside of the door.
harry was standing there, panting as security guards were directing people around, still grinning and high on adrenaline from the performance.
he turns to look at you and grins again. “so, love, what did ya think?”
you smile and nod, walking over to him. “you should’ve told me you were famous, i feel like a dumbass.”
harry shakes his head and smiles, wiping his face with a towel. “nah i’m not that famous yet, maybe one day.”
he smiles and looks down at you for a second before speaking again. “did you want to go get pizza? i’m starving and i would die for a greasy slice.”
you nod and return the smile, leaning against the wall next to him. pizza sounded good after sitting under those bright lights in a crowded room for an hour.
"sure. lead the way, rockstar"
harry hums and smiles, he slips a hoodie over his head and yells something out to the other guys before turning back to you.
“alright, let’s go pretty girl.”
he nods for you to follow him, walking out of the back door of the venue and onto the lightly rainy streets of new york.
you follow him out and shiver as the cold air hits you. you weren’t sure if it was from the weather or the fact that harry called you “pretty girl”.
harry pulled the hood up on his hoodie and started walking down the sidewalk. he was still grinning like an idiot. “so…. talk to me… what do you do? i could tell by all the clothes from this morning it had something to do with fashion.”
you nod as you walk with him and shiver again. harry seems to notice and moves closer to you, your shoulders brushing as the two of you walk.
"yeah, i'm in fashion design." you say with a smile. "it's a pain in the ass, but it gives me some sort of purpose. hopefully after i finish this internship i can get an actual job for prada, at least i hope."
harry grins and nods as he looks over at you. “no kidding? i guess it fits. you’re like… really good at dressin’, and all that.”
he looks up at the sky as the rain starts to come down harder. he leads you down the street towards a pizza shop. the streets are dark other than a few people leaving clubs or taxis driving around.
you smile a little as harry compliments you, kind of embarrassed.
the two of you reach the pizza shop and harry holds the door open for you, still smiling. inside the small shop the air is warm and smells like bread and grease.
harry walks up to the counter and looks at the menu on the wall. “alright, love. what do you want?”
you look up at the menu before walking to the counter and standing next to harry."hmm… i'll just have a pepperoni slice and a coke"
the man behind the counter nods and looks up at harry, as he also orders him a few slices of pizza and a drink. harry pays for the food before walking over to a table in the corner of the small shop and sitting down, still looking cheerful.
"so prada, huh? so they've got you runnin' coffees and doin' menial work then?" he sighs as he stretches in the chair before looking at you again.
you sigh and smile a little, sitting down as well. “yeah but everyone’s gotta start somewhere.”
harry nods and smiles. “yeah, i know what ya mean. i was broke for years until someone finally picked us up.” he takes a big bite of his pizza as you also start eating.
you smile and takes a bite of your pizza. “so you’re british? are you in new york just for a show or did you move here?”
harry nods as he finishes chewing, he picks up his drink and takes a sip as he replies.
“i just moved here last year."
you look at him curiously as you take a sip of your own drink. "how do you like it? do you get homesick at all?"
harry shrugs as he swallows another bite of his pizza.
“it’s alright. new york is way bigger than where i’m from. there’s no getting homesick when i constantly talk to my mum and sister back at home, i don’t have time to miss it.”
he grins playfully and takes another bite of pizza before speaking again. “i like it here. there’s a lot to do. the pizza is good, there’s pretty girls everywhere running into me on the streets…”
you smile and shake your head, holding up the shard of cd from your pocket. amelia had told you that it held some signifigance for their band, and you didn’t want to take that away, even if it was broken.
“yeah about that, you should take this back.”
harry smiles and shakes his head, taking a bite of his second slice. he leans back against the chair, looking at you with an amused expression. “nah it’s alright, i still have the other chunk.”
you look at him hesitantly for a minute before nodding and putting the broken cd back in your pocket. “okay…”
harry swallows the pizza and watches as you finish before speaking again. “so how did you like the show?”
you look up at him and smile. in truth, you loved the show. they sounded good, harry had a great stage presence, and you recognized a few of their songs. “i really liked it, you did a good job. i recognized that one song… um… what is it called? the one about having babies?”
harry laughs and takes a drink of his soda, nodding. he runs his hand through his slightly wet curls from the rain and smiles. “ah yeah… that would be “kiwi” you like it?”
you nod, smiling at harry with your chin resting in your hand. "yeah, it was good." you take a bite of pizza, looking down at the table for a moment, then looking back up at him. "i didn’t think i would like it as much as i did. i’m not usually much of a rock girl, but i had fun."
you think for a moment, then smile sheepishly. "it's mostly pop stuff, like beyonce or christina aguilera. i told you i'm not much of a rock girl, but you sounded good."
it was embarrassing, he was a rockstar and you were casually admitting to listening to pop music, but at the same time it wasn’t. harry was very easy going, and very easy to talk to. he always had a smile and always knew what to say. it's comforting.
harry grins at you, finding it cute that you listen to pop music. "nothing wrong with that, they're both pretty damn talented, not just in their songs but their styles as well. if i could pull of low waisted jeans i would totally wear them"
you can't help but giggle a little as harry mentions low waisted jeans. you can picture him in those kind of jeans, the tattoos along his stomach showing slightly above the low waist… yeah… you wouldn’t mind that at all. (ew shut up shut up)
"well, it's mainly pop, but sometimes i listen to rap. it all depends on what mood i'm in"
harry smiles at your giggles and looks you over. he finishes the last bite of his pizza and wipes his face and hands with a napkin.
"yeah? okay… so i know you like pop music, you work in fashion, you're very sweet, we’re practically best friends now."
you smile and roll your eyes at his remark. "best friends? really? i don't know anything about you other than you’re british and you sing. cmon, tell me something."
harry’s eyes widen a little, he pretends to be offended by your statement and places his hand over his heart as he speaks. he is just so cute.
“woah woah woah, we’ve only known eachother for a couple of hours, don’t rush me love” he grins jokingly before continuing. “alright, let’s see… what do you wanna know?”
harry grins and looks at you, leaning an elbow on the table and resting his head in his hand, his other hand placed on the table.
“favorite album of all time huh? that’s an easy one. it’s probably… abbey road by the beatles. i know it’s the basic answer but i can’t help it, i grew up on the beatles. for favorite color… i guess black. i wear a lot of black, in case you hadn’t noticed…”
he grins as he says he last part jokingly.
you smile and nod, taking a sip of your drink. other than the owners, you two were the only people in the pizza shop left. even though you’ve only known him for about 10 hours, and it’s midnight, you felt oddly comfortable with him. you pretend to think for a minute before speaking again.
“okay… since we’re basically playing 20 questions now… do you collect anything?”
harry smiles and leans back in his chair, stretching, looking up, and thinking. “hmmm..”
he grins and looks at you. “yeah i do actually, i’ve collected vinyl ever since i was a teenager. it’s kind of my thing. i have a whole room full of them back at my house and i’m still collecting them.”
you raise your eyebrows, slightly surprised, and smile again. “really? that’s cool. i didn’t think anyone collected vinyls anymore, besides hipsters who listen to the doors.”
harry grins and shakes his head. “it’s the best way to listen to music, it’s got an authentic tone. you can tell a record comes a lot more from the heart than a song on the radio. you should come over sometime. i’ve got a lot of really old, rare ones i can show you”
you smile a little and look down at the table. you had only met him a couple of hours ago and he was already inviting you over to his house, to see his vinyl collection. it wasn’t weird though, he was a very friendly person and you didn’t think he was asking you over for any other reason than to show you his collection.
“yeah… i can come over to see your vinyl collection sometime, that would be cool”
harry grins at you and nods. “great”
he glances up at a clock on the wall, noticing the time. “damn, you don’t have work tomorrow do you?”
you look over at the clock on the wall. 4 am. damn. “yeah i do actually. i’m supposed to be there at 8am”
you would get around two hours of sleep if you went home right now, not enough to function as a normal human the next day, but that’s prada for you.
harry looks at you suprised. “damn, 8am? they make you come in at 8am? i thought you fashion girls didn’t wake up until noon.” he jokes
“yeah maybe if i was a model, but i’m not,” you roll your eyes at his remark but you can’t hide a smile. “they don’t care that the only thing keeping you going at 8am is coffee and cigarettes.”
harry laughs and looks at you. “coffee and cigarettes… you have the same diet as me.”
you smile at his remark, leaning on the table with your head in your hand, mirroring his position. “coffee, cigarettes, and ramen noodles… the breakfast of champions.”
harry smiles and nods. “it’s a healthy lifestyle for sure”
he checks the time again, noting how late it is before speaking again. “so… tell me, on a scale of 1-10 how reckless are you?”
you look at him and smile. “uh… i don’t know. it really depends. i’d say i’m kind of reckless. if this is your way of asking me if i’ll ditch work and come over to your house i don’t think so, even for a cute british rockstar.”
harry laughs and leans a little closer to you. “aw that’s a shame, i was hoping you’d ditch work to listen to my music and see my collection”
he smiles at you and speaks again, getting a devious look in his eye. “cmon… just stop by?”
you roll your eyes playfully at his remark. “cmon rock star, you’ve only known me for a few hours, don’t go being too hopeful now”
despite your reply, you were actually very much considering going over to his house to see his collection. he was hot, nice, and you were tired as hell.
harry grins at your response and leans closer to you, looking into your eyes. “cmon… i promise i won’t keep you long, i just want to show you my vinyls”
his eyes darted toward the clock and then back to you. “please? one hour, tops.”
you look into his big green eyes, you were already tempted. then you look down at the clock. 3:53am.
“ugh…” then back up at him. “an hour, tops?”
harry grins, already sensing that he had convinced you, and nods. “one hour, pinkie promise.”
he smiles and intertwines your pinkies which makes you smile. you were either going to go home and get 2 hours of very little sleep… or you could go with the attractive British rockstar and at least have fun for a little while. who needed sleep anyways?
you look down at your pinkies, smiling as he intertwines them together. you couldn’t believe you were about to do this with a guy you had only met this morning. but yet, here you were.
“okay fine… one hour, that’s it”
harry grins widely and laughs a little, knowing he had won and you were coming with him. he lets go of your pinkie and looks at your expression, watching you think to yourself, probably thinking about if this was a good idea.
“perfect, cmon” he stands up and tosses your trash away, thanking the restaurant owner, before helping you up and walking out the door. there is still some rain, and the air is damp, making it misty.
you walk outside with harry into the cool, misty air. the city was oddly quiet for it being new york, but it was 3:55am so it wasn’t surprising.
you weren’t sure how you felt about this. you’d just met this guy and here you were ditching sleep to go to his house and see his vinyl collection, it definitely seemed crazy. but at the same time… he was cute, and nice and you really did want to see his collection.
harry is smiling at you, seeming to read your facial expressions and your body language, like he was trying to guess what you were thinking. he could see that you were excited yet at the same time nervous about this whole thing.
he looks at you and smiles. “come on, my apartment is just down the block”
he motions for you to follow him and starts walking, sticking with his usual fast pace for his long legs.
you nod and start walking next to him. the rain wasn’t heavy, but it was a slight drizzle and got you slightly wet as you walked.
it was weird. this whole thing was weird. you had only known harry for a few hours and already you were going back to his place to look at his vinyl collection, when in reality you should’ve been at home asleep, preparing for work tomorrow. but you weren’t, you were following a rockstar through the rain.
you smile and look over at him as you walk down the street. “be honest with me… how often do you do this with girls?”
harry glances over at you and smiles, noticing the quizzical look on your face. he grins a little as he responds. “you’re joking, right? i do this with girls all the time. i take them home to my apartment to see my vinyl collection after they go to my concerts.”
he grins jokingly and glances over at you, seeing you roll your eyes. “alright, alright… not that often. i’m assuming you’re asking me about my hookup habits, and honestly, i don’t take people to my house if i’m going to hook up with them. i just do it in the bathroom or wherever we are.”
you raise your eyebrows, and smile. “oh wow, so tell me, are groupies real? do you really have girls following your band around, or is that an 80s myth?”
you were honestly slightly suprised he didn’t take people home to his house. in the short amount of time you’ve known each other, that doesn’t seem like something he would do.
harry laughs a little and shakes his head as he walks, still having to slow down a bit so you can keep up with his long legs.
“that’s like… one part myth and one part real. yeah of course girls like us, but we don’t just have them following us around everywhere, that's a bit extreme”
he smiles and runs his hand through his wet curls as you walk down the street together. “i’ve had girls follow me home a few times after shows and stuff, but they aren’t really what they’re cracked up to be in the movies”
“oh really?”
“mhm you’re much prettier.”
“yeah sure…”
⋆。˚⁺。 30 minutes later 。⁺˚。⋆
you and harry are laying on the floor of his music room, listening to a pink floyd album he put on. the needle scratched back and forth on the vinyl, the music filling the room as the two of you lay on the floor. harry had a fuzzy carpet on the floor that was fun to run your fingers through as you lay there listening.
the two of you are, both of you laying on your backs, staring up at his ceiling and listening to the music. you had expected him to be more hyper and excited, but he was actually very calm and… sweet?
harry was laying with his hands behind his head, his hair fanned out around his head as he stared at the ceiling. a small smile was on his lips as he listened to the music, he seemed to be genuinely enjoying this.
he glances over at you, seeing you looking at the ceiling, smiling lightly as the music plays. “what do you think of this album? it’s one of my favorites”
you look over at him and look into his green eyes. god he was attractive.
you listen to the music for a moment before replying. “it’s good… like i said… i’m a pop girl, but this album is…. pretty? if that makes sense, the sounds are pretty.”
he laughs a little, finding it cute that you called the music pretty. he looks back up at the ceiling, his smile getting wider as he responded. “yeah, pink floyd’s music is pretty…”
he glances over at you again, speaking teasingly. “you’re kind of pretty too.”
your cheeks turn pink and you can feel your heart rate slightly increase when he said you were pretty. why were you getting flustered? you had barely known this guy for 12 hours and already he was calling you pretty.
you roll over onto your side, laying on your stomach, looking at him, still blushing a little. “kind of?”
harry smirks at you as you turn over on your stomach to look at him, your hair hanging down.
he rolls over on his stomach, mimicking your position to look at you, his smirk still on his face as he replies. his head propped up on his hand so he can be face-to-face with you. “yeah very pretty”
you feel your cheeks get pinker as he compliments you, but you try to remain casual and not get flustered. it was hard though, he was laying facing you right now, and the look in his eyes as he looked at you made it hard to focus.
you shake your head as he says you’re pretty, jokingly rolling your eyes at him. “yeah, yeah you’re pretty too.”
harry gasps dramatically and looks at you with a grin. “oh i’m flattered, darling.”
you smile and nod, looking into his pretty green eyes. “yeah you should be.”
he grins again with the smile that makes his eyes crinkle. please kill me he’s adorable- the album stops as the record meets the end, and harry stands up. he walks over to the record stand and changes the record out. “are you flirting with me?”
you sit up, still sitting on the floor of the music room, watching him change the record, then processing what he just said. you smile and shrug, bringing your knees to your chest as you sit on his shaggy carpet. this room was so comfortable, like the rest of his apartment. he had little trinkets everywhere, pillows and bankets in every corner, and warm lighting from his string lights filled each dark area.
“oh… so you invite me to your concert, take me to get pizza, invite me to your house, and I’M the one that’s flirting?”
harry laughs a little, turning back around after placing a Jeff Buckley record on the machine. he walks back over to the carpet and sits down right next to you. he looks at you with his bright green eyes, smiling as he speaks. “mmm, you have a point”
he reaches behind him and grabs multiple pillows and blankets. “alright settle in, love, this is the prettiest album yet.”
you smile as he grabs pillows and blankets from behind him and starts handing them to you. so he was going to get comfortable too.
you take the pillows and blankets from him and start situating them on the ground next to harry so you can lay down. “alright, if this album isn’t pretty, this is the first and last time we’re hanging out.”
harry laughs and smiles again, loving the way you banter with him. he grabs his own blankets and pillows and gets comfortable next to you on the floor.
he smiles and lays down, getting comfortable under his blankets. “trust me, jeff buckley’s album is absolutely beautiful. it’s gonna break you, make you cry, throw up, all that good stuff.”
you smile as he jokingly describes the album, trying to imagine what about it would cause you to throw up. you lay down in your own little nest of blankets and pillows, getting comfy in the dimly lit room, the only light coming from string lights hanging across the ceiling and the moon shining in from the window.
you look over at a comfy looking harry who’s smiling at you, seemingly more relaxed and sleepy laid out on the floor.
it only takes three minutes for the two of you to completely pass out on the floor of his music room.
⋆。˚⁺。 8 hours later 。⁺˚。⋆
you slowly wake up, confused for a moment and wondering where you were. but then you remember that you had fallen asleep in harry’s music room, and now the morning sun was shining through the window, illuminating the room and waking you up.
when you open your eyes, you see harry still sound asleep next to you, curled up under his many blankets and pillows, looking adorable as he breathed softly. it also reminds you that you’re a complete idiot for letting yourself fall asleep to a complete stranger.
you lay there for a moment, admiring the way harry peacefully slept next to you. he looked like an actual rock star, his hair fanned out on the pillows, his tattoos peaking out through through the sleeves and collar of his shirt. you were still baffled at the fact that less than 24 hours ago you didn’t even know he existed, and now here you were.
you look over at him again, studying his sleeping face.
the room is still and quiet as you look at his calm sleeping face, your eyes roaming over his long lashes, his sharp jawline, his plump lips. what is wrong with you. you’re laying there watching a sleeping man, a man you had only known for a day.
you look away from him, trying to remind yourself that this is just a man you met on the street and not a dreamy love interest in a romantic movie. you sigh in frustration as you remember that you had slept through work. hopefully phoebe would cover for you….
you sit, up rolling your shoulders, they were sore from laying on the floor all night. you grab your phone from your pocket to check the time. great. you had slept through work, it was already 10AM. you also had several missed texts from phoebe and your boss wondering where the hell you were. this is gonna be hard to explain.
whatever. that’s for another time when you’re more awake and less infatuated with a British man you hardly know.
you rub your face sleepily, yawning softly as harry starts to wakeup.
harry starts to shift around beside you, making noise and groaning softly as he starts waking up. he sits up slowly, looking around the room, taking in his surroundings. he runs a hand through his messy hair, then glances over at you.
“morning, pretty girl” he says in a groggy morning voice, grinning at you as he stretches his arms over his head.
your heart does a little jump as you hear his morning voice, which you’re starting to decide is a million times sexier than his normal voice.
”morning, pretty boy” you respond, stretching your own arms over your head and letting out a yawn.
you look down and notice you’re still wearing the uncomfortable mini skirt and tanktop from last night. “do you have something i can change into? i do NOT want to do the walk of shame back to my apartment in this.”
harry smiles as he sees you sit up and stretch, he also notices you’re still wearing the clothes from last night… and that the tiny skirt and tiny tank are a sight to see first thing in the morning.
he shakes his head, trying to bring himself back to earth, and responds. “yeah ‘course. i’m sure i’ve got some clothes that will fit you” he glances down at your clothes again before standing up.
“although i’m not sure it can be considered the walk of shame if we didn’t do anything shameful, yet.” he smirks and walks out of the music room and down the hall towards his bedroom.
you roll your eyes, but smile a little at his last comment, knowing it was true. sure, you’d slept in the same room, but you hadn’t done anything shameful… yet. hopefully you wouldn’t end up doing anything shameful, this guy was turning your brain into mush.
you crawl out of your pile of blankets and pillows, then get up and follow him out the room and down the hall to his bedroom.
you both walk into his bedroom, which has a similar look to his music room. it’s not a huge bedroom, it has a queen sized bed, a large dresser, and a door that leads to the bathroom.
he goes over to the dresser and starts rifling through the drawers, looking for something you can change into. he looks over his shoulder and looks at your outfit again. “can’t lie, i like the outfit, but you’re probably not very comfortable in it.”
he smiles and tosses you light washed jeans and a band tee. “you’re a fashion girl, i’m sure you can make anything look good.”
you caught the pants and tshirt he threw at you, holding them up to look at them. he was right, you might be able to make this look good, these jeans were cute and the band tee looked vintage.
you smile. “i’ll attempt to look good in your clothes.” you glance toward the bathroom. “do you mind if i change in there?”
he nods. “yeah, ‘course love. bathroom’s right in there” he motions to a door across the room.
after about 30 minutes of getting ready, arguing with harry about needing to go to work, and eventually caving because… well beacause he’s hot…. you and harry were walking down the street towards a coffee shop.
⋆。˚⁺。 30 minutes earlier 。⁺˚。⋆
“no harry! i had fun, but i need to go to work and apologize for sleeping in.” you shake your head as you stand in the bathroom, washing your face of the makeup from the night before.
“uh no you don’t”
you roll your eyes and look back at the mucisian. “uh yes i do.”
“why? you’re already six hours late, might as well just tell them you’re sick.” he smiles like a teenager, standing behind you in the bathroom as you got ready. it’s weird, being this comfortable around someone after you’ve only known them for 24 hours.
“yeah but-”
“no buts”
“yes buts! i have responsibilities.”
“i’ll buy you donuts and we can hang out more! that sounds like way more fun whatever fashion bs they would have you doing.”
“…”
“…”
“fine.”
“… :)”
“stop smiling, dumbass.”
⋆。˚⁺。 present 。⁺˚。⋆
harry is walking down the sidewalk next to you, taking a bite of his donut and sipping his black coffee, watching you as you both walk. you look cute in the clothes he gave you, cute and relaxed. he loves the way the jeans are cuffed at the bottom and the faded band tee fits you perfectly.
he glances at you, smiling as he speaks. “see? ditching work was so much better. you can have more fun with me, instead of working in a boring old office”
you roll your eyes as he smiles and speaks. “yeah, because hanging out with the random man i met yesterday is so much more fun than the job that pays my rent and feeds me”
you try to hide the smile that creeps up on your face, you have no idea why you’re falling so effortlessly into this banter with him, but it just felt natural.
harry grins as you respond, loving the way you banter with him. he can’t stop smiling whenever he sees that pretty smile appear on your face.
he nods jokingly as you mention the job that feeds you and pays your rent. “yeah exactly! who cares if you don’t get paid this month, im sure being unemployed is a completely valid excuse for missing work!”
he takes another sip of his coffee, looking at you. “i mean we’re basically having a date, which is way more entertaining than whatever you were doing at work”
you roll your eyes again, smiling as he teases you about having a “date”. it isn’t a date, its just the two of you hanging out, like friends. yeah…
“sure, this is a date” you sarcastically respond, taking a bite of your donut. “a date consisting of two people ditching work and eating breakfast food. don’t you have a concert later? you should be practicing.”
he grins a little as you sarcastically agree that this is a “date”, that means you’ve acknowledged it. “yeah, i should be, but i’d rather hang out with you.”
harry stops and grabs a cigarette out of his pocket, lighting it and taking a long drag. “besides, i can practice later. today is our day. i’m marking it in my calender, october 16th, 2003, the day we became best friends.”
you try to suppress your smile as you hear him say “our day”. he’s way too charming for his own good, you think to yourself.
you watch as he lights his cigarette and puffs on it, the smoke billowing from his pouty lips. a little part of you hates how you think he looks hot as he stands there smoking, but you try to ignore it.
you roll your eyes a little, trying to pretend this isn’t affecting you. “yeah, us ditching work and eating donuts is sure the start of a great friendship”
he smiles again as he sees you roll your eyes. cute. he thinks to himself as he watches you eat your donut in small bites.
he lets out a puff of smoke as he brings the cigarette to his lips again, looking at you. “you say that like ditching work and hanging out isn’t the best bonding activity for the start of a friendship.”
he grins as he starts walking again, glancing over at you. “we’ve had a jam session, we’ve shared sleeping quarters, and now a proper meal. what more could we possibly bond over?”
you shake your head and smile a little as he responds.
“well you’re wrong,” you say. “i’ll do anything for donuts.”
you take another bite of the donut and glance over at him as he walks next to you, watching his curls bounce as he moves. it really was a good day, you would never say it out loud, but a ditch day with him was the most therapeutic thing you’d done in months,
the two of you walk through central park for a few more minutes before reaching a bench. you sit down and sip your coffee quietly, warming up a little bit.
he laughs and shakes his head as you mention you would do anything for a donut. “yeah yeah, admit that i’m right.”
he follows you over and sits on the bench, letting out a tiny cough as he flicks his cigarette into the trash. he glances over at you as you drink your coffee, you look cute sitting there sipping coffee in his clothes.
he plops down on the bench next to you as he leans back, letting his body rest comfortably. “you know, you’re very relaxing, it’s nice.”
you glance over at him as you sit down, raising your eyebrows. “i’m relaxing?”
you look at him incredulously. “i’m pretty sure you’re the one with the relaxing british accent”
he grins a little as you say he’s the one who’s relaxing. he smirks a little. “just because i’ve got an english accent doesn’t mean im relaxing. i could be annoying, ya know”
you laugh and roll your eyes. “oh please, everyone likes an english accent. they’re soothing” you say this with a small smile, knowing damn well you love his accent.
he smiles and looks over at you through his sunglasses, he just felt so comfortable at the moment. “well i’m glad you like my accent.”
you roll your eyes and laugh a little at his comment. his accent was nice. no, it was more than that; it was sexy, especially when he sang or spoke softly.
he looks relaxed as he sits there on the bench next to you. you watch as he closes his eyes behind his glasses, taking in the cool breeze.
you sit back against the bench, watching people walk around the park, kids playing, dogs running, adults working out. it was all very peaceful.
“thanks for not being creepy last night or anything…”
he opens his eyes and glances over at you as you lean back against the bench as well. “course love. i wasn’t gonna try anything, you just looked like you needed a good sleep. but of course, i’m happy to do anything when you’re awake.”
he smiles teasingly and leans back against the bench with his eyes closed.
the next hour is spent with the two of you walking around the park mindlessly, talking about random things. harry told you about england, you told him about your job and your friends. he told you about his bandmates, you told him about your cat. it was the most relaxing day you could remember having for a long time.
“but yeah my cat is the most an-”
suddenly harry stops walking and looks at you. without any warning or hesitation, he gently grabs your face and pulls you towards him, planting a kiss against your lips.
your eyes widen in surprise as he kisses you. you’re in shock, freezing up for a second as you feel his lips against yours.
the kiss is gentle, but there’s a firmness from harry’s part that makes it feel like he’s been wanting to do this for hours. he brushes his fingers through your hair as he kisses you, bringing you closer to him as he does.
you’re still shocked, but you instinctively begin to kiss him back. the feeling of his fingers brushing through your hair, the feeling of his lips moving against yours, all of it makes you lose your senses. you bring your hands up and grip onto his arms, holding on tightly as you kiss him back.
“this is stupid and you can laugh at me, but i think i’m more comfortable with you after a day together, then some people i’ve known my entire life.”
you feel your stomach flutter with butterflies as you look up at him.
“yeah i,” you start before hesitating, “i feel the same way.” that’s an understatement
he smiles gently as you say you feel the same way, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss against your forehead. he scoops you up, pulling you so you’re legs are wrapped around his waist and he’s holding his arms under your bottom to support you.
“yeah?”
you wrap your arms around his neck as he holds you up, looking at him. “yeah, it’s,” stupid, crazy, insane, “cool.”
harry grins and kisses you again before he starts walking down the street, running a bit to make you laugh, until he finds an empty ally. he pushes you against the wall with your legs wrapped around his as he presses his lips to yours.
as he presses his lips to yours, the world around you melts away, leaving only the two of you, suspended in this moment. the cool brick wall behind you is a gentle pressure against your back, a reminder of the physical world that's still spinning, even as your senses are consumed by harry's kiss. his tongue brushes against yours, and you feel your legs tighten around his waist, pulling him closer.
the sound of the city fades into the background, replaced by the gentle hum of harry's contented sigh as he deepens the kiss. his fingers dig gently into the flesh of your bottom, holding you up, supporting you as you wrap yourself around him.
as harry's lips move against yours, he mutters "so. fucking. pretty." in between kisses, desperate to get closer to you. his body presses against yours, the heat of his chest radiating through your clothes.
his hands roam over your body, gripping your waist, running up your back, and threading through your hair. the feeling of his fingers in your hair feels amazing, and you can't help but moan softly into the kiss.
harry pulls away and looks down at you with a flushed expression.
“back to my place?”
“yes. now.”
˖⁺‧₊⟡₊˚⊹
oops that was really long, i got caught up. this isn’t really proofread so sorry if there were mistakes. this is literally my favorite story i’ve ever written, so i hope you guys liked it too! (requests are open)
-💋
186 notes · View notes
fingertipsmp3 · 2 years
Text
Survived my first day of my new job :)
2 notes · View notes
vipgyu · 18 days
Text
nice boys don’t kiss like that.
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summary — when your former rival chances upon your diary and reads all the unpleasant things you’ve written about him, he takes it upon himself to change your mind.
pairing — kim mingyu x fem!reader genres — fluff, suggestive; rivals to lovers, developing relationship word count — 3.3k
warnings — profanity, making out, suggestive innuendos & jokes, i would probably rate this 16+ author’s note — this fic is inspired by this scene from bridget jones’s diary. thanks for reading!
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It is on a twilit Saturday evening, at precisely 7:01 P.M, that Kim Mingyu is accosted by a notebook for the first time in his life.
He lets out a startled grunt and finds himself with an armful of things—a denim jacket, a crumpled grocery shopping list, an empty box of Tic Tacs, a woollen beanie with a questionable brown stain he thinks is ketchup; all presumably from whatever depths of your drawer he can see you hunched over, searching for something that remains stubbornly elusive. The offensive projectile whizzes past his shoulder and lands on the polished wooden floor with a thud.
Mingyu stands at the doorway to your bedroom, having bypassed the living room and hallway that leads to the kitchen in favour of pressing heated kisses to your cheeks and collarbones. He watches you, bemused. A few weeks ago, he might’ve laughed at your frazzled state with derision. Now, he still wants to laugh, but more in an affectionate way.
You turn around swiftly, nearly tripping on a stray stocking on the floor, and he bites back a smile when you mumble a string of curse words under your breath. 
“Hi,” you say, chest heaving. “I’m really sorry.”
Then you slam the door shut on his face.
Well, Mingyu thinks. This is the first time a girl’s closed the door when I’m in her apartment.
Faced with nothing else to do except wait for your arrival, he drops the Tic Tac box on the floor, hangs your jacket and beanie on the back of the sofa, and almost stubs his toe on the corner of the notebook.
Wincing at the close call, Mingyu glares at the book like it’s the cause of all his troubles. DIARY, it reads, embossed in ornate gold letters. The cover is a rich shade of red, rough and leather-bound. He picks it up; it’s rather heavy, and judging by the frayed corners and the random bits of paper poking out of the sides, it seems to be quite old too. Regardless, it is well-cherished—he knows this because he knows you, and you’re the kind of person who wears your heart on your sleeve.
Which is why he knows opening it is a bad idea. 
Mingyu shrugs and places the book on the coffee table, taking a seat on the plush, olive green sofa opposite it. He leans his elbows on his knees and interlaces his fingers under his chin. From the inside of your room, he can hear muffled screaming—should he be worried? The screaming stops. Mingyu lets his tense shoulders relax.
His eyes zero in on your diary once more. He shouldn’t open it—he really, really shouldn’t. It would be a horrible breach of your privacy. Your trust in him would be broken forever, and even if he somehow manages to win it back, it will always be a stain in the fabric of your still-developing relationship.
But.
One tiny peek can’t hurt, right? He’s only waiting for you to come out of your room, after all. Just one little look, and then he’ll close the book immediately. It can’t possibly hurt. Curiosity is both a blessing and a vice, he figures, and since he’s already stacked up on vices, there is no harm in adding to his karmic points.
So he picks up your diary and flips to a random page, freezing momentarily when he hears an irritated grunt and the sound of something hitting the floor from inside your room. Your handwriting is a lot messier than it usually is; you probably save your best penmanship for official things, and your personal diary is not one of them. That, or you were just frustrated.
12th June
I fucking hate Kim Mingyu. I hope I never have to see him and his stupid handsome obnoxious face EVER AGAIN. I’m so DONE with him.
Mingyu’s cheeks prickle with heat. He’s thoroughly invested now. He turns to another page.
14th June
Ran into KMG again today. He spilled coffee all over me what else is new but. he actually apologised!!! Crazy. Maybe he was just in a good mood. Either way, my new blouse is ruined so fuck him.
The strangest thing is that Mingyu actually remembers that day vividly. You were wearing a gorgeous cream-coloured blouse, and he was so caught up in staring at you talking animatedly with your supervisor that he zoned out completely and accidentally spilled his coffee on you because he tripped over his shoelaces. Now, knowing that your blouse was new at the time brings up a slight twinge of guilt. He’ll ask you about it later.
22nd June
KMG is actually…… kinda nice? He supported me in the meeting today with the clients when they were being so tiresome. He has a nice smile I guess.
Mingyu smiles widely. 
23rd June
Nevermind. I take back everything I said. Kim Mingyu is a prat with zero social skills. I mean, would it kill him to say hello back??? I get that he’s busy but i thought we’d made progress. One thing is for sure. Kim Mingyu is NOT nice. Not even a little bit.
His smile falters.
The next page contains a similar anecdote—something about how he always vehemently disagrees with everything you say, and how despite his good looks he was a complete and utter asshole. Further investigation reveals the same thing: you hate Kim Mingyu with a burning passion.
And… Well, he couldn’t lie and say the feeling wasn’t mutual at one point in time—but it has mellowed down since then, gently and slowly, like a fallen leaf being carried by a soft wind. There came a day where Mingyu found himself glaring at you, not with disdain in his eyes, but with a steady thrum in his chest where his heart lay. Later, he would realise that he didn’t hate you—not even a little bit.
He assumed you felt the same way. Why else would your smirks, so full of malice, melt into grins that could light up a whole town? Why else would you agree to go on a date with him when he asked you out, one day, after work, tripping over his words like an elementary schoolboy? Why else would you invite him home and ask him to spend the night?
Of course, it doesn’t explain why you’ve locked yourself up in your bedroom currently (frankly, he’s a bit befuddled about that). But the sentiment must still be there.
It’s a diary, he reasons. 
It’s your diary, his brain screams back, and that’s the real issue here, isn’t it?
Diaries are full of crap, anyway, he thinks to himself.
Diaries contain the Real Thoughts And Emotions of a human being, his brain hollers back.
Mind swirling, Mingyu closes the book and places it back on the coffee table, barely aware of his movements. Have you been lying to him? No, there’s absolutely no way—he trusts you far more than that, and besides, what would you even lie to him about? There are no benefits to stringing him along, and you’re not the kind of person who would do something like that, anyway.
You must have had a change of heart, then. That’s the only conclusion he can think of. Your diary entries come to a standstill after 27th June, which means you haven’t opened it in a while. It’s also around the same time you stopped picking fights with each other. Something must have changed by then; Mingyu is glad it did.
Satisfied with his deduction, Mingyu stuffs his hands in his pockets and crosses his ankles together. Behind your bedroom door, you remain suspiciously silent. He considers knocking on the door once to make sure you’re okay—or if you need any help, because staying put inside your room for over twenty minutes is certainly not normal when you have a guest and potential boyfriend over. 
Almost as if you’ve heard his thoughts, the door to your room swings open. You stand at the doorway, breathing heavily.
“Hey,” Mingyu says, quickly standing up. “Everything good?”
You beam at him. “Perfect. Sorry to have kept you waiting, I—”
Your gaze drops to the coffee table, landing on your diary. Mingyu keeps his gaze fixed on you. You look back at him, lips parted. 
“Um,” you begin. “It’s— It’s just a diary.”
“Clearly.” Mingyu fights back a smile.
You chew your bottom lip nervously. “Did you read it?”
“I did,” he confirms, nodding. “I’m sorry. I was just curious—”
You groan, lifting your hands and covering your face with your palms. “Fuck.”
Mingyu reaches out and encircles your wrists with his fingers, gently tugging your hands away from your face. He finds it oddly endearing. “It’s only a diary. I’m sorry I read it. I shouldn’t have.”
“I don’t care about that. You… you probably read all the horrible, mean things I wrote about you.”
“Well,” he says, shrugging a little, “some of the entries were definitely… interesting.”
You blink. Unable to help himself, Mingyu drops a light kiss to the tip of your nose.
“I don’t hate you, you know,” you tell him.
“Mhm.”
“I’m serious.”
“Mhm.”
“Mingyu.”
“I’ll tell you what I think about your diary later, ‘kay?” he says, hooking his pinkie finger with yours. “Come with me.”
“What? Where?” Confusion paints your features.
Mingyu huffs out a laugh. “Just trust me.”
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Mingyu places the brand-new diary he’d bought for you on the dining table with a flourish. “D’you have a pen?”
You eye him suspiciously, gaze darting between him and the new, dark green notebook on the table. He grins, carefree and indulgent. Still wary, you hand him a blue ballpoint pen from the pen stand placed above the drawers to the left. He hums and uncaps it.
Flipping open the book to the first page, he bends down and writes slowly.
This book belongs to Kim Mingyu and
Mingyu stops writing and holds the pen out expectantly to you. “Here. Write your name.”
Confused, but curious, you oblige. Your name, written in your handwriting, next to his own semi-legible scrawl, makes a warm, affectionate feeling bubble up inside his chest. He wonders what it would look like when both your names are signed next to each other on a marriage certificate. Then, he wonders when and where your wedding would take place. A summer wedding sounds nice, but the sweltering heat might be a bit of a problem. Winter weddings are beautiful for sure, but neither of you is a big fan of the cold.
He’s in the process of thinking of names for your children and pet dog when you break him out of his daze. 
“Hey. What’s all this about, hm?” You nudge his shoulder lightly with yours.
Mingyu says, “It’s a diary, but for both of us.”
You glance at him, eyebrows raised questioningly. He swings an arm over your shoulder and draws you closer to him, smiling when flyaway strands of your hair tickle his cheek. 
“In your old diary, it was pretty obvious you, uh, didn’t like me much,” he explains, holding up his free hand when you open your mouth to protest. “I don’t blame you. We were assholes to each other most of the time. But we’ve moved past that. At least, I hope we have.”
Your reply is instantaneous. “Of course. Of course, we have.”
Mingyu trails his fingers absent-mindedly over your arm. “Right. And… It’s kind of silly, I guess—I don’t know—but I thought—if we kept a new diary together, one that we could use to document our journey, with both our perspectives in the same place—I thought it would be nice.”
Your mouth parts and you look at him, an indiscernible expression on your face. He shifts from one foot to the other, feeling suddenly nervous. You don’t betray any hint of emotion on your face, but Mingyu’s heart hammers inside his chest. What if you think he’s being silly and overly sentimental? What if you find the idea ridiculous?
“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he quickly backtracks. “I know we’ve only just moved past the idea of being more than friends, but—” He stops himself.
“But…?” you gently prompt him, twisting around to see him better.
Mingyu swallows. “But I can’t imagine not being with you.”
He hears your sharp intake of breath, and in the next moment, the breath is knocked out of his lungs when you throw your arms around his neck and pull him in for a tight, rib-squeezing hug.  Automatically, his arms circle your waist, and he presses a light, barely-there kiss to the junction of your neck and jaw. 
Eyes shining happily, you pull back slightly with a wide grin on your face. “You’re so hopelessly romantic, it makes my chest hurt.”
“Consider this your trial run. If you don’t like it, I��ll stop.”
“Don’t you dare.”
He sighs, content. “Okay, I won’t.”
“What should our first diary entry be about?” you ask, loosening your hold on him.
“About how you ditched me inside your house for almost half an hour after you invited me over.” He’s only half-joking.
You look away, embarrassed and sheepish. “I can explain.”
“I’m sure you can.”
“I’m being serious, Mingyu.”
“So you’ve said,” he agrees breezily.
“Actually,” you begin, a tad shy, “I was thinking it could be about this—about how you bought us a diary and then kissed me in front of the dining table after we christened the book.”
Mingyu’s eyes widen, but before he can get a word in edgewise, your lips are already centimetres away from his. “May I?” you whisper.
“Yeah. ‘Course,” he murmurs back.
The kiss makes him feel dizzy, like he’s had one too many bottles of soda—fizzy and light-headed. Your lips are soft, mouth warm; you taste like chocolate, and he licks into your mouth desperately. His fingers dig into your waist, bunching up the material of your t-shirt, and you run your hand through his hair, tugging gently. He’s kissed you before, of course, but something about this time feels important, a core memory sort of thing. Later that night, he’ll sit beside you on your bed and watch as you write in your shared diary, and he’ll make fun of the way you chew on your pen cap when you’re thinking of what to write next and you’ll shut him up with a kiss.
But for now, he indulges himself whole-heartedly. You let out little gasps which he swallows with his mouth. He tilts his head and kisses you deeper. Only when his lungs are burning does he pull away, and even then, not without a parting peck to the space in between your eyebrows.
“Mingyu,” you say, breathless. 
“Yeah?” he responds, unable to tear his gaze off of your kiss-bitten lips.
“I really am sorry about what I wrote about you,” you apologise, looking down once and then back at him. “It’s only a diary—everyone knows diaries are full of crap.”
“I know.” Mingyu smiles tenderly. “I’m not mad.”
“You should be. I would be, if I was in your place.”
His eyes dart back to meet yours, and he grimaces. “If you really think about it, I’m the one who should be apologising, not you. I shouldn’t have read your diary, no matter how curious I was.”
“I… don’t really care about that, weirdly enough,” you say thoughtfully. “I was more worried about the fact that you thought I hated you and you were gonna leave me. Not so much about you reading the diary itself.”
“Pfft,” Mingyu says, affectionately condescending. “If I left you, where would I go?”
Your mouth parts as you stare at him, dumbfounded. “Jesus. How do you say things like that unironically?”
“I could compose whole sonnets about you and it wouldn’t be enough.”
“That’s ironic, I hope.”
He tilts his head and pulls you close. “Only one way to find out.”
When he captures your lips with his this time, it’s with colliding bodies and biting teeth. He runs his tongue across your bottom lip, and you shudder in his arms, moaning. Somehow, you stumble back into the living room, a mess of tangled limbs.
Briefly pulling away, Mingyu sits down on the same sofa he’d occupied earlier and clumsily pulls you onto his lap. You brace your hands on his shoulders for support, lifting your head up when he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your jaw.
“Fuck, Mingyu,” you gasp, eyes falling shut.
He hums against your skin. “Tell me what you were doing in your room for so long.”
“I was—ah—it’s embarrassing.”
Mingyu stops his movements. “I won’t judge you.”
“I know,” you say, teeth worrying your lower lip. “I’ll tell you someday.”
When you purse your lips, ready for him to kiss you again, Mingyu lets out a soft laugh. “Sweetheart.”
“What?” 
“I think I need to correct some of your… perceptions of me,” he murmurs, rubbing his hands up and down your back.
You furrow your eyebrows. “What?”
“I’m sorry about your blouse,” he whispers. “You looked really pretty wearing it, you know. Got distracted. Couldn’t take my eyes off you.”
“Mingyu, I don’t know what you’re talking—” You gasp when he kisses the column of your throat.
“I’m sorry for being obnoxious,” he continues, lowering his head and pressing his lips to the pulse point on your neck. “But I’m not sorry you think I’m handsome.”
“Only your face,” you mutter, but you tug on his hair to get him to tilt his head up. When he does, you kiss him again, your hands warm and placed on the junctions where his neck meets his shoulders. 
“I’ll support you in more than just meetings,” he says, pulling back. His breath ghosts over your lips, prompting a shiver to pass through your body. Your eyes widen when you finally, finally realise what he’s talking about. “I’ll tell those stupid clients to shut up and take it.”
You laugh, bright and happy, and Mingyu wants to bottle the sound up greedily. “That sounds kinda wrong,” you say.
He shrugs, his smile turning lopsided. “I’m sorry for ignoring you when you said hi to me. I won’t do it ever again.”
You laugh again, teeth flashing in the warm glow of the living room lights.
There’s an odd feeling in Mingyu’s chest—something warm and golden—something he can only describe as being terribly, hopelessly lovesick for you.
He whispers your name again, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Tell me what you were doing in your room for so long.”
You groan again, your previous amusement turning into embarrassment. Your next words are muffled by his shoulder, your lips warm against his clavicle as you mumble something only you can understand.
“What’s that? I couldn’t hear you,” Mingyu says mischievously.
 Another sound of mortification.
“I won’t laugh,” he says. “Promise.”
“Underwear,” you mumble, just loud enough for him to hear. “I was searching for a better pair of underwear than the one I had on.”
To his credit, Mingyu really doesn’t laugh. It takes a lot of effort, though, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent his giggles from escaping. 
You lean back and narrow your eyes at him. “Oh, go on. I know you’re dying to laugh.”
He shakes his head, cheeks blown out like a pufferfish. You stare at him quietly.
Minutes later, he exhales shakily. “See? I didn’t laugh. I’m a nice guy.”
His lips find yours again, slower and more languorous this time. After all, he has all the time in the world now—to hold you like this, kiss you gently—and he plans to cherish each second. Your tongue swipes his lower lip, and he parts his mouth willingly. He feels like putty underneath you, as he uses one of his hands to cup your face and deepen the kiss. Your lips move against his, already familiar, but he could never stop craving it.
When you pull back to breathe, your eyes are wide and your lips are swollen—a fact that Mingyu notes with pride.
“Nice boys don’t kiss like that,” you breathe out.
“Oh, yes, they fucking do.”
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rebelspykatie · 4 months
Text
Part 2
Part 1
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eddie stands and follows Steve to the door as he’s pulling on his shoes. He wants to stop him, pull the shoe out of his hand and drag Steve back to the couch, but he doesn’t have any right. He’s not entirely sure Steve won’t push him away if he tries to touch him right now, anyways.
“You think I’m straight and I was convinced you were into me,” Steve leans against the door frame to pull his other shoe on. He mutters under his breath, “I should’ve never listened to Robin an-”
“Robin was in on this?” He interrupts that thought. It throws Eddie. They’re such a tight knit group, he doesn’t know how they were so far off track with him.
“We spent hours going through every stupid interaction we had. Thought we had it all figured out.” He huffs and walks back over to the coffee table to pick up his wallet and keys. “I guess we’re both idiots.”
“No, Steve,” he tries to reach out and grab Steve’s arm, but he moves too quickly and Eddie’s left grasping air, “you’re not.”
“It’s fine, I’m used to it, anyways.” Steve scrambles to pull his sweater back on, the cold just starting to seep into the night air outside.
“Can you just slow down for a second?” Eddie stops trying to catch Steve and plants himself in front of the door. “What do you mean, you’re used to it?”
“Are you going to trap me here?”
“Answer the question.”
“This part, Eddie,” he sighs and gestures between them like that means anything to Eddie. “Everyone I’ve ever confessed to or made a move on has had the same reaction.” He looks off to the side, unable to look Eddie in the eye. “I’m pretty sure I’m the problem. Good ole Steve Harrington, too stupid to notice no one is interested in him.”
“Steve, you’re not stupid.”
“Feels like it most of the time.” He pinches his nose again, still not looking at Eddie, more like through him, gaze pinned to somewhere in the middle of Eddie’s chest. “Can you please move? We can pretend like this never happened and I promise I won’t make any weird moves on you ever again. I’m still friends with Nancy and Robin after everything, I can do it with you, too.”
Eddie skips over the whole Robin part of that in his head because he doesn’t have the brain power to analyze anything beyond Steve’s feelings for him. He never saw this coming. No one, boy or girl or anything in between, has ever made a move on Eddie before. He’s the local freak. There’s no way he could have predicted the town’s golden boy hero would make the moves on him.
He takes in how disheveled Steve’s become in the last few minutes. How hastily he’s thrown on his sweater. The mess of Steve’s hair from the hand that’s run through it several times since he got up from the couch. Barely laced up shoes so he could get out the door faster. He’s normally so put together and this, the sight of him so frazzled, frightens Eddie.
They were fast friends after everything happened with Vecna, leaning on each other for support. Becoming inseparable with King Steve wasn’t something Eddie ever imagined, but it was so easy. Neither of them were what each other had built up in their heads from the rumor mill around Hawkins. Eddie’s never had a guy friend as close as Steve. Sure, he had Hellfire and Corroded Coffin, but Eddie’s always been a bit of a loner.
It was impossible to feel alone with Steve as a friend. He had a way of knowing when you needed support, always just there when Eddie felt alone or needed a physical presence when the weight of the upside down was dragging him down. There wasn’t a day in the past six months that Eddie didn’t see Steve, even if it was only in passing or a quick little jaunt down to Family Video, he’s a constant presence in Eddie’s life.
To lose that? Would be like losing a part of himself. Like losing a limb. Losing his home.
And he’s scared. He doesn’t want to let Steve walk out that door, the weight of losing him forever lingering in the air. But he can’t trap him here. That wouldn’t be fair to Steve.
He moves out of the way, taking a step towards Steve, but he sidesteps Eddie and reaches for the door.
“Steve-”
“Don’t worry about me, Eddie,” he doesn’t turn around, but hesitates halfway out the door. “I’ll be fine.”
With the soft click of the door closing, he’s gone.
And that should be the end of it. Closed book. Eddie doesn’t like Steve and Steve needs to move on. There’s not much Eddie can do about that.
But it haunts him.
If you didn’t know Steve, you wouldn’t realize that anything was wrong. He’s acting normal, smile on his face when he jokes with Robin, complaining about the kids being terrors, going to his job.
But there’s something in the set of his shoulders, in the way his smile droops when he thinks no one’s paying attention to him, in the way Robin protectively hovers around him when Eddie is nearby. It’s clearly a facade he’s putting on to get by.
And Eddie aches. There’s a pit in his stomach that opened up that day and it hasn’t closed. Steve avoids his touch and the chasm grows larger, dragging Eddie further into the darkness. Casual hangouts halted. No more divulging of nightmares or fears late at night. A piece of Eddie is with Steve and he’s bereft of comfort. Unsettled.
He lies awake replaying that kiss over and over in his head. Thinking about what Steve said after. There’s no comfort in the way he handled the situation. It feels like he miscalculated, like pushing Steve away was the wrong move and now his life will never be the same again.
Maybe it won’t. Maybe there’s no way for them to move forward and for him to not break Steve’s heart every day. Steve said he was an idiot, but Eddie’s positive he’s got it all backwards. Eddie’s the idiot.
And he can’t stop thinking about kissing Steve.
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bpmiranda · 14 days
Note
Hugh body worshipping his insecure younger gf? Maybe even talking her virginity I know he would be so sweet 🤭
Nobody Compares (Hugh Jackman) nsfw
A/N: purely fictional, 18+ f!reader, soft!hugh, shy!reader, oral f!receiving, unprotected sex, pulling out
It’s hard for you not to feel jealous when Hugh shares a stage or a carpet with a female co-star, especially the older women that you know he has always had a certain affinity for before you and him got together. That wasn’t very long ago either, it has been about six months since you’ve started seeing each other, and you sometimes wonder if he truly loves you or if he still has his sights set on older women.
“Y’alright, darlin’?” Hugh asks you suddenly as he has rejoined you backstage of the talk show. You give him a small nod and you know he knows from that action alone that you are not all right. “Okay,” He chuckles, kissing your forehead softly, his hand around your waist. “You’ll tell me later, yes?” He asks and you give him another nod.
It’s silly, you know that, and you can’t bring yourself to say the words as Hugh is kneeling in front of you as you sit on the edge of the hotel bed. “I’m over it, I promise.” You insist and he shakes his head, again, refusing to get up or out of your face until you tell him what it was that upset you during the talk show. With a small sigh, your face turns warm as you say, “It just seemed that you were getting on well with, you know, her.” You murmured and Hugh chuckled.
“My co-star?” He asks, his hands softly caressing your thighs as you nod. “Because of my past interest in older women?” There’s a little smirk on his face and you feel embarrassed.
“I know it’s ridiculous. I know you wouldn’t be with me if you wanted an older woman, I just-” You are suddenly cut off by Hugh’s lips, his gentle touch on your cheek calming your frazzled nerves. Your hands rest softly on his chest as he leans into you and scoot up on the bed slowly so as to not break the kiss while Hugh crawls up over you.
Hugh’s hand slides into your blouse as you make out, his palm kneads your breasts softly which makes you whine. He has touched you before, his hands have roamed your body, his lips have left marks on your skin for you to cover up, but never like this. “You’re all I want, Y/N.” He whispered against your lips and you feel like you could cry from how sweet and affectionate he is with you. “You are absolutely beautiful, you know that?” You give a shy nod and he tsks softly at you. “I don’t believe you do, or you wouldn’t feel so threatened by another woman. I don’t think I’ve done my duty as your man to show you how much I adore you.” His lips moved down your jaw and your neck as both his hands are now underneath your blouse and he gently removes your top. “I want to show every part of you just how much love I have for you.” His lips press chaste kisses to your chest and you wrap your arms around his shoulders and sigh as his hands caress your waist, squeezing your sides lovingly.
His lips are pressed to your belly, softly kissing your hips as he tentatively hooks his fingers into the waistband of your skirt. “Keep going.” You whisper as he gives you a look that asks for permission. Hugh pulls your skirt down slowly, kissing your thighs as they are being exposed, and you bite your bottom lip hard from the anticipation. “Oh!” You gasp as his lips kiss on the inside of your thighs, it’s a new sensation, intimate and telling of his intentions tonight.
“Want me to stop?” He asks as he’s holding onto the band of your lace panties and when you shake your head no he pulls them off too. His tongue peaks out to moisten his lips as he’s spreading your legs open for him and his tongue is swiping long, slow stripes against your slit. Your body shudders from the feeling and you remove your bra before lying back and moaning his name. “You taste so good, darlin’.” He groans against your clit as one of his hands slides up your torso to palm your exposed breasts.
“Hugh, please,” You whine, your body writhes as he’s so desperately tonguing at you, swallowing your arousal, his hands firmly keeping your thighs open for himself. “I want more.”
“Yeah?” He asks, gently running his thick fingers against clit and through your folds, the feeling makes you tremble as you nod eagerly. “Oh, baby,” He sighs, kissing your cunt one last time before he undoes his belt buckle while you unbutton his white dress shirt. Hugh shrugs the linen material off and rids himself of his pants before crawling back on top of you. He gingerly latches his mouth to one of your soft mounds and his tongue swirls around your hardened nipple, moaning against your chest. “You let me know if I need to stop, okay?” You nod as his head is rubbing against your slit and bite your lip hard, your fingernails digging into his shoulders as he slowly pushes the tip in. Hugh growls softly, his head dipped down to look between your bodies as you take him in inch by inch. “Baby, you feel so good.” He says, kissing your chest and your neck as you’re softly whimpering and gasping his name.
“H-Hugh, it’s-uh-tight!” You choke out and he stops pushing into you. You let out a small sigh as he sits inside you, pulsing and giving you time to adjust. Your eyes meet and you feel your cheeks warm up at the way he staring so lovingly at you.
“Can’t believe you’d ever think I don’t want you.” He says, kissing you gently and you return the gesture, your hands smooth over the indentations you left in his shoulders and then you caress his face softly. “Nobody compares to you, darlin’.” Your core aches at his words and he feels it, it makes him groan, and he lets himself sink in a little more as you moan. “Almost there,” He whispers, pushing in more until your bodies are pressed together and he’s sitting completely sheathed inside you. “Fuck.”
The sensation is unlike any other. You’re so full and you’re connected to him in a way you’ve never bonded before. It makes you wonder why you waited so long, but it was all the more special doing this with him. “I love you, Hugh.” You say, tears prickling the corners of your eyes and he gives you loving look.
“I love you more, Y/N.” He said, slowly pulling out, just an inch because he couldn’t bear leaving your warm, wet core, and he pumps into you that way. His eyes search your face for any sign of pain as he makes you his own, so aware of how new this all is to you. Hugh takes precautions to make it enjoyable for you, he tells you what he is about to do before he does it, slows down to a stop when you whimper only for you to shake your head at him in protest because there’s a tightness in you that only seems to be satisfied when he’s fucking you.
“Don’t-don’t stop, please, I-I think-ah-think I’m close.” You stammer, kissing him hard as he picks up his pace and you whine into his mouth as the tension in your belly suddenly unravels. Your body shakes from the pleasure, the waves rocking through your limbs as you feel less in control than ever, but you like it. You like not having control, being at his mercy.
Logan groans as your arousal coats his cock, the warmth encourages him to continue, making it all too easy to glide into your pussy where he chases his own release. His back spasms as he suddenly sits back and jerks himself off onto your belly, you gasp softly at the sight of him, his eyes screwed shut as he strokes himself quickly. His panting is strained as he hovers over you, grunting and swearing as his droplets of semen fall onto your skin. “You okay, darlin’?” He asks, kissing your forehead gently as you nod and he leaves to grab a hand towel from the bathroom. “I hope you don’t really think I’m still looking at other women.” He says as he gently cleans off his spend with the damp, warm rag and you shake your head. “I’ve got more than I can handle with you, sweet girl.” He smirks as he kisses you.
“I know, I was just a little jealous, I suppose.” You whisper as he gets back into bed with you and pulls you into him so you lay your head on his chest. “I really do love you, Hugh. I think you’re the only man I’ll ever love.”
Hugh smiles and he kisses you softly, holding your jaw in his hand as he hums against your lips. “I really love you too, Y/N, more than I’ve ever loved anyone.”
🏷️: @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @peterparkernotfound @httpsells @evasmlp @ayatotiddies @thatlittlered @seasonofthenerd @littlemisscantloveyouback @scorpiosaintt @simpingfor-wakasa @spencerswh0r3 @thatweirdtheaternerd12 @unspeakable-imagination
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runnning-outof-time · 8 months
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Hi! For the celebration, how about… “Do you know you’re bleeding?” with Tommy.
Maybe a more light hearted protective Tommy situation <3
Hi there, anon! Thanks for sending this in! I’m sorry it took a little bit for me to get to. I love me some protective Tommy! I hope you like what I did with the prompt. Enjoy! :)
I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!
Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!
An Unfortunate Accident
Tommy Shelby x Reader
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Warnings: language, blood
Word Count: 601
Summary: When Tommy finds (Y/N) injured after something silly happened to her, he immediately thinks the worst.
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“Shit,” (Y/N) hissed as she quickly cradled her hand against her chest. She gritted her teeth as a surge of pain quickly shot down her arm. “Shit, shit, shit!”
She looked around the kitchen. There has to be something I can use to cover this, she thought to herself as the pain grew stronger. Footsteps sounded off the hardwood just as she managed to grab one of the dish towels sitting on the counter. A quick spin to face the archway told her that Tommy had entered the room. Shit.
“Hi, Tommy,” she tried to sound as nonchalant as possible as she greeted her husband. Her both hands were now hdiden behind her back, and she was placing as much pressure on her injury as possible. “You’re home early,” she commented sheepishly.
“Not really,” he answered, his brows furrowing slightly as he took in the sight of her. “What’s happened?” he asked her then, closing the gap between them as worry seeped into his features. Between her frazzled state and how things looked, his mind was starting to create several scenarios.
“What?” her question came out like a breath, her heart hammering in her chest.
“Do you know you’re bleeding?” he asked.
“I’m not,” she dismissed him, speaking a little too quickly for her liking.
“You are. It’s all over your dress, love,” he answered, motioning to the article of clothing. (Y/N) quickly looked down to see that the front of her dress was indeed stained crimson. A sigh left her lips. “So tell me the truth. What happened?” he asked again, his voice level, his tone one that she couldn’t argue with.
“You’re going to laugh,” she sighed, her sheepishness returning.
“I’m not,” he assured her with a slight shake of his head, his eyes still focused on her.
(Y/N) held his gaze for a few moments, still weighing it all out in her mind. Tommy kept his eyes on her, his eyebrows raising after a few seconds of silence had passed - his nonverbal way of saying ‘I’m waiting’.
One more sigh escaped her lips before she finally brought her (now blood-stained) cloth-covered hand back into view. “I, uh…I was chopping some of the vegetables, and a bird flew into the window. The bang it made scared me and my hand slipped. I sliced my finger pretty good.”
“A bird?” Tommy questioned, incredulousness seeping into his words. His eyes left hers, albeit for a moment, to glance out the window…as if said bird was still going to be hovering there.
“Yes, a bloody bird,” (Y/N) answered, a dire earnestness present in her voice. She watched her husband’s face carefully, waiting for what she knew would becoming. The second she saw his lips twitch, she jumped on him. “You said you weren’t going to laugh!” she exclaimed.
“I’m not laughing!” he defended himself, although he couldn’t help but let a few chuckles out. This made (Y/N) glare at him, and she smacked him on the chest without thinking.
“Ow! Fuck. Tommy!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide with pain.
“Didn’t quite think that one through, eh?” he questioned with a chuckle. (Y/N) couldn’t even be mad at him…he was right. “Lemme see it,” he said then, coaxing her to show him her injured hand.
It took a few moments, but she showed it to him. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” she asked, cringing at the sight of it.
“I’ve seen worse,” he answered, glancing up at her to send a smile before focusing on her hand again, “let’s get it cleaned up.”
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*tags in reblog so that hopefully they get sent out.
MASTERLIST
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Text
Yandere Cheerleaders + Football Team
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The thing about cheerleaders and the infamous football team is that they’re quite accurate to their stereotypes
Now not every cheerleader team is run by a head girl who’s a massive bully 
Or that the football team is filled with dumb jocks that are just as violent if not worse
But they’re nothing to scoff at 
They’re beautiful
They’re athletic
And they're disciplined with confidence that comes with successful games and competitions
Such perks might give them quite a bit of power
Power that’s doubled when they’re working together
If you’d like to be happy you’re better off not figuring out just yet 
Since your arrival to the University, you’ve noticed more of your things have gone missing
Maybe this move made you more frazzled than you thought
Because you’ve found that you haven’t been able to keep friends like you used to
At least not without some help
“So you’re the new student, huh? Welcome to Energi University. As cheer captain, I’m really happy to welcome you finally!”
As she drags you along throughout your schedule, you’re waiting for the punch line
The moment she switches to embarrass you or smile coyly as she says something underhanded about your appearance
But she doesn’t 
Only twirling her hair as she asks you where you learned to glow like you do
You find it odd but you’re not complaining
Movies taught you that she and her team were top of the food chain 
so if they liked you enough maybe it’d trickle to some friends eventually
“Looking for a partner? Me too. How about we uh work together, freshie. If we finish before class ends you can have my varsity jacket and I can have yours.”
It seems it works as the beefy but beautiful captain of the football team partners up during chemistry
Between the two captains, you think you’re making progress
Finally beginning to make friends
But you couldn’t be farther from the truth
Already you were skipping right into the pitfall that was their playground—Energi University
It started with the cheerleader’s captain, gorgeous, rich, and with a serious attitude problem
She was making her daily rounds with her two main girls
‘Putting the worms in their place’ as she’d report to her team
Until she found something interesting 
a glasses-wearing nerd had been holding a file, scrolling through someone’s social page with such dedication they didn’t even realize they were being cornered
And its not just someone—you
while her girls were exploring the use of pins on the human body, she was going through this fairly thick file
A file all about you
Filled with hundreds of pictures of you some with consent some not
Extensive organized lists of your likes and dislikes
And a neat report on your current whereabouts and social circle
By the end of it, she was intrigued
She’s never been one for reading but she just can’t put it down
Having to be brought back into the real world when her girls are done playing 
“Already? Ugh, let’s go find the next one this little report of his might be worth selling to those stupid jocks.”
That’s just an excuse 
she’s combing over your photos again as she re-reads about the mundane drama in your life
“Babe, I thought you said you wanted to spend time with me? Not lose braincells studying!” 
Her boyfriend–captain of the football team is trying to draw her attention with kisses and inviting touches
But she’s just too focused
Eventually, he’s going to snatch it all away, taking a look at it
“Who’s this? Your latest victim?”
“Puhlease they don’t even know me…yet.”
The nights they spend together is searching you on socials as they filter through these words about your world
There’s just something about you that has them enraptured
For them it’s like when they first started dating, running off from their teams to gush about their latest finds about you
Texting all through the night about schemes to meet you
Whispering on the bus on their way to seasonal competitions
It isn’t long before the nosey teams start poking around
All it takes is a whispered mention of your name and they’re stalking your socials 
Some hire private investigators to tell all they can get their hands on
It’s like a virus how the whole team is eventually letting your distant lovely little life take up all of theirs 
At some point words and posts just aren’t enough
“Yo Cap, why don’t we just get them to come here?”
“Yeah! I know I can get my dad to extend a scholarship and dormitory if something happens at their old school.”
“Hmm, I do still have those lighter fluid canisters.”
“Oooh and I can get them out of the dorms for awhile!”
“Then  we can swoop in and be the knight’s of shining armor they’ll need!”
“C’mon, captain! Let’s bring them home, aren’t you tired of looking at them through the screen?”
“Don’t you think it’d boost our morale for the championship?”
“Yeah!!” Pleaassee!?”
What terrible captains they’d be if they let their teams down now
So the plan is set, you conveniently are stood up on a date when your dorm and campus is burnt down killing so many friends you made+
The mysterious fire destroying their security footage and all your belongings too 
Its natural you start looking for a new college, a safer option
“Hey (Y/n) why don’t you come to our next game? Forget about that horrible fire and cheer us on!”
“Wait how did you know–”
“Grapevine cutie! Now what do you say to a sleepover!?”
“Not after we do our victory party!”
“Oh, you’ll have to try our captain’s famous jello shot! It’s going to knock your clothes+ socks off.”
Both Captains will watch happily as the group swarms you 
Your questions about the slug you made plans with prior were drowned out in their shouting and giggling
Their goal wasn’t to make you worry 
After all, they had the power to dissolve all of that 
The Captains and their teams
“Now that we have them I don’t see any reason, why our teams won’t be planned for an all-around victory in the nationals.”
“Of course, though we could do it without them. Money and pure talent are a given for people like us.”
“Still there’s nothing wrong with sharing a good luck charm.”
“You are absolutely right..”
“Aren’t I always? That being said we’ll have to talk about the…hoarding issue.”
“Oh yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that. The next time one of your cheerleaders interrupts me, they’ll be dealing with more than broken legs.”
“And your players should know the next time they take my time with (Y/n) away they won’t just become paralyzed.”
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caitlinsclark · 2 months
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RECKLESS REVELATIONS caitlin clark 𝘤𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘹 influencer!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 | summary: though you made an agreement to keep your relationship private from the media, caitlin seems to be changing her mind. based on this request! word count: 2.1k masterlist and tag list
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With the fan bases you and your girlfriend possessed, a serious conversation was required early on. With hesitance, you posed the topic of being public when you and Caitlin were lounging on her couch.
Your legs laid over hers, held in place by her hand that gently caressed the skin left exposed by the pair of shorts you had on. Your head rested on the arm of the couch, gaze fixed on the brunette as her other hand reached for yours.
“I want this to just be ours right now,” She toyed with your fingers, and you couldn’t help but read into it until she continued, “though even if I’m an all star athlete, I don’t think even I have the will power to hide a babe like you for very long.” Her lips lifted into a cocky smirk that had your eyes rolling. But when her hand on your leg lifted to poke you in the side, you broke and smiled at her.
Caitlin’s questionable maturity on the matter somewhat shocked you, but you knew it was only a matter of time until one of you slipped up. And by one of you, that meant her.
As two public figures, her platform clearly on a much larger scale, you had to carefully navigate this very glamorous road together. That’s why she remained just out of view of your camera as you streamed to your followers like you did every week. 
“Right now I’m getting ready to go out with Kate and Jada while they’re visiting!” Your smile could both be heard and seen as you explained your routine.
Caitlin, resting on the corner of your bed, was watching you intently as you brushed over your skin with products carefully. Her eyes glistened in awe, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth at your side profile.
You eyed the chat as if it was a conversation, seeing a similar question continue to pop up, “No, Caitlin’s not coming along with us today.” In attempt to play it off, you denied it.
CaitlinClark22: I heard my name
You tried not to let your eyes slide over to where the brunette laid on your bed, but failed. She stared intensely at her phone but you could still see her lips were curled up in a smug smile, dimples making their dazzling debut as you attempted not to smile back at her. She was ridiculous.
You turned back to your phone where your viewers had turned to freaking out over Caitlin’s presence the same way you had internally.
You rolled your eyes and opened your mouth to reply but stopped in your tracks when another verified comment came up.
CaitlinClark22: You call my name, I come. I’m easy like that.
You bit your lip, leaning your chin on your folded up knees so you could ignore the growing smile on your face. She was playing a dangerous game but it was doing exactly what she planned for it to. You’re left a frazzled mess at the double meaning behind her words and she’s smirking knowingly from her spot on the bed.
CaitlinClark22: See you at lunch 
She blew you an air kiss from her position, slowly rising to start getting ready as well. Caitlin walked backwards toward the bathroom all while maintaining an intense eye contact with you.��
You glanced down at her toned stomach peaking out from the shirt she was beginning to change out of. She broke the obvious tension by making a goofy face and sticking her tongue out. You couldn’t help but giggle and a smug look formed on her face before she winked at you.
She disappeared into the bathroom and you desperately attempted to cover the warmth in your face with powder.
Some of your fans managed to catch the mysterious shadow when it rose from your bed in the background and others noted the way you glanced to the side a little too longingly. But those realizations were buried by the rapid comments all concerning Caitlin and her star power.
It had gotten increasingly more difficult to play off Caitlin’s very loud, but loved nonetheless, presence in your life. You were more entertained than anything at the defiance of her own rules. She was never one to follow those, though.
As you began another live, she quietly beckoned you over with two fingers. You were about to deny, considering the track record of your previous lives, until a small pout came onto her face. What damage could be done by a quick detour?
And it all seemed worth it as you basked in her warm touch, running over your back, your hips, anywhere she could get. Caitlin was greedy when it came to you and she made it seem painful to sacrifice you for a ten minute live stream.
She simply leaned in and pressed her lips softly against your cheek, refusing to move for seconds that did not feel long enough. A strawberry lip gloss was left in her path, shining proudly on your cheek like a trophy.
Her movements back were slow as her lips brushed over your nose in another kiss, sadly just missing your lips. The mere intimacy made your body ignite in warmth.
She released you, still hesitantly, as that was the only thing she wanted to do. The giddiness spread throughout your body, unable to be ignored as you took a step back.
You moved to wipe the product off your cheek as you were aware of your viewers, stopping your movements when your girlfriend began to pout again. Instead, you used your hand to gently tilt up her chin affectionately which left her grinning with her dimples on full display.
How many other girls could say Caitlin Clark left her lip gloss on their cheek? You sat back at your desk and continued to converse with your fans. Even going as far as gazing at your girlfriend to the side, proudly presenting the outline her lip gloss had left behind.
You weren’t able to deflect the suspicions your fans had the next time, and you didn’t care to. The more days passed, you had slowly begun to realize that perhaps Caitlin was leaning toward wanting a more public display for her love.
In the middle of a story about how you and Kate almost got run over by a British man, you got interrupted by a little piece of paper landing in your lap. You ignored it the first time, knowing Caitlin loved being a little instigator and despite that, you adored her.
But the second time, it was a bigger piece of paper. A little note was written on top that said ‘open me <3’. When you looked at her, your adorable girlfriend pretended to whistle nonchalantly, looking anywhere but at you.
You carelessly forgot to open it under your desk, but what else did you really have to hide anymore? Upon opening the note, you find a simple ‘hi, you’re pretty :)’ in her crooked but endearing handwriting. Clutching the note to your chest, you let your head fall to rest on the back of your desk chair, lulling to the side to look at her. The lovestruck expression on your face radiated through the screen as you admired the girl in front of you.
Edits titled ‘Y/N being whipped for 5 minutes straight’ littered your for you page that night.
By this point, secrecy was not a term you nor Caitlin could say you were well versed in. You still tried to remain somewhat strong, being mindful of stepping out of frame to see what your girlfriend beckoned you over for this time. Caitlin had intricate plans as she swept you up, off your feet and right into her arms.
You muffled a squeal into her shoulder, worriedly glancing over to where your phone rested. Comments continued to pour in but Caitlin’s strong hand settled on your neck, forcing your attention back onto her. 
“You’re trouble.” You tried to scold her quietly, but the lovesick smile interrupting your words might’ve cancelled out any threatening factor in the words, “People are watching.” 
Though the reminder did little to deter either of you as your hands curled around the collar of her shirt. Your hold tightened on the fabric as your resolve faded as you registered how close she was.
“I guess you’re right,” Caitlin heaved a dramatic sigh, basically deflating as she let go of you. You should’ve known better than to think she would give up so easy. As you were heading back, her hand reached out to smack your ass and a loud clap echoed through the room. 
The framing could not have been worse, or better, depending on how you looked at it. The viewers got a perfect view her wrist and hand before she had backed out of frame and only your shocked expression remained under observation. 
It seemed safe to say there was going to be no possibility of avoiding speculation after that. But at the satisfied expression your girlfriend wore, you weren’t sure if that was such a bad thing.
“Are you going to tell us who’s been in the background of your lives?” You read out the most asked question, prepared to deflect with a sarcastic comment like the media trained person you were. 
“That remains to be seen,” Caitlin’s voice could unexpectedly be heard by viewers, though her face still remained out of frame. You turned in a panic, viewers could see your jaw drop slightly at the identifiable voice. In your peripherals, the chat began to triple in speed once the familiar voice and recently used catch phrase had been pinpointed.
Despite your visible panic, Caitlin wore a proud smirk as she picked up your phone. She sent a small, flirty wave to the camera before simply pressing ‘end’ on the live. When she placed your phone back on the table, she was met with your unimpressed gaze and crossed arms.
“You just love to cause chaos,” You tsked, as if you could ever truly be disappointed in her rather entertaining antics. You’d never tell her that last part though. A soft smile grazed your lips, a weight lifting off your chest at the (non)secret being out officially.
Her smirk only widened as the two of you were finally alone, using the tie of your robe to pull you up and into her. With a squeal you allowed yourself to be roped in, though you didn’t have much of a choice. You would’ve gone even if you didn’t
“Was it okay that I did that?” Her cocky demeanor subsided for a second,  her genuine care shining through once she got scared she’d truly upset you. The brunette used her thumb to gently push a piece of your hair back, not satisfied until she had a clear view of your face.
The time you took to answer had her more on edge by the second, her hand slipping down to rest on the side of your neck. 
You loosely wrapped your arms around the brunette’s waist, “I would’ve been willing to give them a show for proof if you didn’t end it.” Your hands rested on the small of her back and you basked in her warmth as your bodies gravitated closer naturally.
Caitlin’s giddy grin took your breath away, but the ferocity she kissed you with a few seconds later rivaled it. Your stomach fluttered at the way her hands slid down to your hips, guiding you back until your legs hit the bed.
You pulled away to trail your lips down her jaw line, gripping the bottom of her t-shirt and lifting it subtly.
An overly exaggerated gasp suddenly rang out, her hands shifting to grip your waist with a much more firm grasp. You pulled away abruptly and waited eagerly to hear what had invoked that reaction, “What was that for?” Your thumbs lovingly caressing the skin of her jaw.
Her face is covered by excitement now, instinctively making you smile until you hear her next words, “I can do this in public now!” She makes grabby hands toward your ass and you smacked her hand away, halting her advances.
“Caitlin!” You tried to reprimand but ended up giggling along with her anyway despite running to push her away, “You’re worse than a fifteen year old boy!”
“Sucks, you can’t get rid of me now,” She tosses you on the bed and traps you underneath her weight, not deterred by your playful struggle, “my fans know and they’ll just get you back for me. You know what you agreed to.” Caitlin spoke through repetitive kisses along your face, making an almost obnoxious ‘mwah’ sound that had you laughing a little louder.
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hoshifighting · 4 months
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hey I’m the anon that just requested the mingyu fics, they were so freaking good! I usually hesitate to send in requests but you were so fast , I totally didn’t expect it 😭 loved every bit of it!
if it’s not a bother could I request for mingyu overstimualting reader so much to the point she goes into subspace for the very first time, she’s so clingy and a crying mess but mingyu tries to help her out of it?
Reader going to the subspace for the first time, after overstimulating, with Mingyu
a/n: I'm glad you liked it my love, I always try to respond to all requests when I have free time! xoxo, Lyla. <3
warnings: overstimulation, fingering, subspace, sumbmissive!reader, dom!mingyu, aftercare, overwhelm
Mingyu's fingers moved in and out of you relentlessly, his touch expertly hitting all the right spots. you were a trembling mess beneath him, your body already pushed to its limits from multiple orgasms. your thighs quivered, your breath came in ragged gasps, and tears of overwhelming pleasure leaked from the corners of your eyes.
"Gyu, please," you whimpered, your voice barely audible over the wet sounds of his fingers thrusting into you. "i can't... i can't take anymore..."
but he didn't stop. instead, he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "one more for me, baby," he murmured, his voice filled with both command and reassurance. "you can do it. just one more."
you shook your head, sobbing softly. "it's too much... i can't..."
Mingyu's fingers curled inside you, brushing against your g-spot with precision, while his thumb found your clit, rubbing it in tight, fast circles. the combination was too intense, and your body arched off the bed, your cries escalating.
"yes, you can," he insisted, his voice firm yet gentle. "you're my good girl, and you can take it. just let go."
your mind was a haze of pleasure and pain, the line between the two blurring until you couldn't distinguish one from the other. you felt another orgasm building, more intense than any before it, and you screamed Mingyu's name as it crashed over you, your body convulsing uncontrollably.
tears streamed down your face as the orgasm wracked your body, and you found yourself slipping into a strange, detached state. the world around you faded, leaving only Mingyu's touch and voice grounding you. you were in sub space, a place you'd never been before, and it was both terrifying and comforting at the same time.
Mingyu slowed his movements, sensing the change in you. he gently withdrew his fingers and pulled you into his arms, cradling you against his chest. "shh, it's okay," he whispered, stroking your hair soothingly. "i've got you. you're safe."
you clung to him, your body trembling as you tried to process the overwhelming sensations. "Gyu... i feel... i feel so..."
"shh," he cooed, pressing soft kisses to your forehead. "you're okay, baby. just breathe. i'm right here with you."
you buried your face in his chest, seeking the warmth and comfort of his embrace. his strong arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly as you slowly came back to yourself. the tears continued to flow, but they were no longer just from overstimulation—they were from the sheer intensity of the experience and the deep connection you felt with Mingyu.
"you're so good," he murmured, his voice a calming balm to your frazzled nerves. "you did so well. i'm so proud of you."
you sniffled, nuzzling closer to him. "i... i didn't know it could feel like that."
Mingyu chuckled softly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. "it's a lot, isn't it? but you did amazing. you're so strong."
"Gyu... it was so much," you mumbled, your voice small and broken.
"i know, baby. i'm sorry," he said softly, kissing the top of your head. "i got carried away. but you're safe now. i'm here."
he held you like that for a while, his touch and voice slowly bringing you back to reality. when you finally felt steady enough, he gently lifted you and carried you to the bathroom. he sat you on the edge of the tub and started running a warm bath, making sure the water was just right.
"let's get you cleaned up, okay?" he said, his voice still soft and comforting.
you nodded, still feeling a bit dazed but grateful for his care. he helped you into the tub, holding your hand as you lowered yourself into the warm water. the heat soothed your aching muscles, and you let out a sigh of relief.
Mingyu knelt beside the tub, gently washing your body with a soft cloth. his touch was tender and careful, his eyes filled with concern as he looked at you. "how are you feeling now?" he asked quietly.
"better," you whispered, your voice still shaky. "thank you, Gyu."
he smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "anything for you, baby," he said. "i'm here to take care of you."
after the bath, he helped you dry off and dressed you in one of his oversized shirts, the fabric soft and comforting against your skin. he led you back to the bedroom, tucking you into the freshly changed sheets.
"just rest, okay?" he said, climbing in beside you and pulling you into his arms. "i'll be right here."
you nestled into his chest, feeling safe and loved. "I love you, Gyu," you murmured, your eyes fluttering shut as exhaustion washed over you.
"i love you too, baby," he whispered, kissing your forehead. "just rest now. i've got you."
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discotenny · 11 months
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Take me back!
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Why is he at your door after he broke up with you just a week ago?
Chifuyu x gn!reader <Christmas showdown aftermath, fluff, 700+ W.C>
Had a strong feminine urge to write sm fuyu fic sorry guys LOLOL. Not beta read, but then again, is it ever? Mentions of the nickname 'angel' if that's important.
———
Your ex boyfriend is at your door, with messy hair and frazzled eyes. His bangs stick to his forehead with sweat and his sweater is stained unflatteringly at the pits. Bleeding cuts and mud splotches splatter across him, and there are bruises on his (beautiful) face. But when are there ever not? 
He’s panting, holding up a hand through breaths and gasps, trying to speak but nothing more than coughs come out.
“Rough night?” You say, amused. Knowing him for as long as you had, his heavily winded state and beaten up form could be due to a myriad of different things. 
“Shut up-“ he wheezes out, managing little else. Chifuyu’s hands fall to his knees as he collapses to the foot of your doorstep.
You bend down to meet him, putting a patting hand on his back. Ex-boyfriend or not, he was still your friend. Chifuyu breathes in gasps and gasps of cold, painful air. "Fighting on Christmas? Tsk tsk Matsuno-"
"Don't call me that-" He says, not looking you in the eyes.  
You sigh under your breath, "Huh?" 
"It's Chifuyu- Why is it suddenly Matsuno- h-huh?!" His voice is still shaky as his throat burns with cold. "Even before- I- w-we-" 
"What's this about, Matsuno?" You push away his bangs from his eyes with a frown. 
“Takemitchy’s gotten back with Hina…” He says with a whisper. 
“Oh? Congratulations to them I guess. But I don’t really see what that has to do-” Chifuyu grabs your face suddenly, squishing your cheeks together and bringing your forehead to his. “Wait- Ow- Matsu-” 
His body heat is so warm compared to the snowy weather outside. His breath fans against your nose as you shakily mumble out confusion and questions. Chifuyu’s eyes close tightly as he holds you close, basking in your touch and presence. His breathing settles to a calm pace, meanwhile you grow all the more flustered at his surprise actions. 
“Take me back, please,” Chifuyu's voice is smooth, quiet, and if all of your attention wasn’t on him right now you wouldn’t have heard what he just said.
“Huh?! Matsu-” 
He kneads your cheeks with his thumbs, “I told you- it’s Chifuyu.”
“Still- you can’t expect me to just accept this so easily! In case you forgot,” you take one of his hands into your own, “You broke up with me.” 
“I know- I know I did…” His voice waves with hesitation, lined with regret and guilt from actions past. “But I was stupid. And seeing Takemitchy admit it too made me realize how dumb I was for wanting to break up just to keep you out of all this shit…”
“That’s the reason you broke up with me?!” Your voice rises in anger, and you hold his hand tighter. “You-” 
“Please, angel?” The nickname that slips past his lips makes you stop your words. “I’m sorry. I love you. I’ll never do that to you again.” 
“You…” Your voice wavers, and you can’t tell if the shakiness comes from overwhelming happiness or underlying hesitation.
"Please?" A hopeful tone laces his words.
Lifting back your head from his, Chifuyu’s eyes widen as he braces for the worst. “You’re so stupid!” Your foreheads collide as he lets out a loud whine. 
“Ow! y/n you see I’m injured- what the hell…” He hisses at the contact yet leans into you more, chin falling onto your shoulder with little fanfare. 
“Here’s what’s gonna happen, alright?” You point a finger at his chest and he lets out a questioning hm at the action. “You’re gonna take me out tomorrow to make up for all of this. No fights, no Takemichi, just us.”  
A grin spreads on Chifuyu's face and he tackles you in a hug. Laughter echoes through the air as the two of you fall backwards into your home. “That was always the plan, angel,” he says as he hovers above you. A hand goes to caress your face, brushing a finger just below your eye. “Does this mean I’m Chifuyu again?” 
You laugh in reply, a wonderful sound that spreads throughout the room. “You always were,” somehow, his smile grows wider and he leans down, placing a kiss on your forehead with a chuckle.
———
Originally wrote this to be a Mishima fic but changed my mind remembering there's a new ep today FDSKFKA. I love my boy he's so heuewhfwnnffnawfw eaifwajijewfawaeewmef
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fingertipsmp3 · 1 year
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Someone talk me out of quitting my job lol
#i won’t actually do it i’m just so annoyed with people today#like tell me why there’s 6 of us in and i’m the only one fucking doing anything#like what type of sense does it make to have one person on hot food (read: twiddling his thumbs); one person (me) doing the till and drinks#and cakes; and three people standing at the end chatting#liiiiiiiiiike#and i happened to raise this and now everyone is making jokes about me being a fucking superhuman#and i’m like. i raised a valid point. i even said it in a joking way and now i am NEVER going to live this down am i#like i can go home if you want and see how well you can run this without me lmao#i will happily just not come back. believe me#ugh i don’t know if i’m being too sensitive but i really feel like handing my notice in today and just going home#it’s really sinking in that i don’t like working here and i usually like the people but if they’re going to laugh at me i’m going to go#nuclear and there’s not a single thing i can do about it#like that’s not my choice. i’d rather not do that. but i can. i will#maybe i’m just hangry. i’m seething and eating mini cheddars right now lmao#you know what it is. i didn’t sleep well enough last night. i went to bed too early because i felt sick and i wasn’t actually sick but i#fell asleep and woke up in the middle of the night and then i couldn’t get back to sleep again#and then when i finally did (probably around 3am or something) i had really bad dreams#literally woke up with the world’s worst headache and i still feel absolutely frazzled#i wish the till was working properly because i can’t add up in my head and i’m having to anyway#we’re definitely out at least a quid already because i gave someone too much change#so. that.#i’ve just decided what i’ll do. i’ll finish my lunch break and then i’ll use the bathroom and then get back to work#and just do whatever. and if anyone makes any stupid jokes i’ll do a really loud fake laugh for so long that they start to get concerned#tl;dr i don’t want to work here lol#anyone got any vacancies? asking for a friend#personal
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lurvly-malice · 5 months
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"What are you doing to me?"
Pairing: Harvey x GN!Farmer
Summary: Just Harvey being smitten for the farmer whose always occupying his clinic, and mind
A/N: just a fluffly drabble, because Harvey's been dominating my mind lately and I'm bored lol
With each reckless adventure you pursued, you returned to his clinics doorstep with a collection of scratches, bruises, and cuts, and of course, the innocent smile that adorned your face - the sight would be the death of him.
 And each time, he would usher you into the clinic in alarm, he was beginning to suspect you did this on purpose, with the proud look in your eyes that suggested you had him right where you wanted as he doted on you.
'It’s only been a week, really, you would think you’d take more care of yourself by now' he often said under his breath, his voice trembling with nervousness.
You would chuckle, laughter so infectious, brushing off your injuries as normal relics of your adventures. 'Just a few bumps and bruises…nothing you haven't seen before.' you retort, alluding to your countless visits for this sort of thing. 
Harvey's lips would twitch into a wry smile as he guided you to the examination table. Your adventurous spirit both fascinated and alarmed him. It was foreign to him, and couldn't fathom how willingly you’d over exert yourself in those darn mines, stirring within him a whirlwind of emotions.
As he applied bandages and ointments, his hands couldn't help but tremble. The sight of your injuries, no matter how trivial, sent his heart into a frenzy. As a doctor, he'd seen such it all, and yet even the sight of a purple bruise on your soft skin made him want to faint. Each touch of your skin ignited a spark he could neither ignore nor deny, no matter how much practice he’d had treating patients every day. He'd learnt his lesson by now - you weren't a regular patient.
‘I really do wish you’d be more careful,' he would murmur, his fingers tracing over a shallow cut on your arm. 'You... you're hurt too often.'
And then you would respond with a comment like ‘but you’ll take good care of me, right?’, casually sending the poor man’s heart into a tailspin, because of course he would, always.
‘I-I’m serious, you know-’ he sighed, trying so hard to sound annoyed, but he wasn't, his concern evident in his shaky words, ‘I care about you’ he managed, avoiding eye contact with you under the pretence of focusing on your present injury.
But of course, like always, you didn't take him very seriously, and just leaned in a little, eyes twinkling.  ‘I care about you too, Harvey’ which had his head snapping up, wide eyes meeting your amused ones, unable to mask his flustered expression - what was he going to do with you?
Harvey's breath caught in his throat. Your words had always elicited such a potent reaction, but this time, it felt different. The weight of his own unspoken feelings pressed down on him.
Your visits had become a sweet torment for Harvey. How sweet you looked, scratched up arm extended offering him a gift - always his favourites, which you somehow had memorised to a tee, ignoring the pain you felt just to see him flustered as he accepted them.
Harvey's constant worry over your well-being extended to himself. The mere thought of seeing you sent his temperature soaring and his pulse racing. The symptoms he experienced—sweaty palms, flushed cheeks, and a pounding heart—often led him to question his own health.
'Oh dear, I must be coming down with something,' he would mutter to himself, his stethoscope barely grazing his chest in a futile attempt to make sense of his frazzled state.
What were you doing to him?
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teapartyprincess4two · 7 months
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can you write another Matt story? I'm obsessed with your writing!! <3
Manage- M. Sturniolo
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pairing: Secretary!reader x Boss!Matt
classification: smut w/ a plot
warnings: 18+, MDNI, use of y/n, power dynamic, sexual content, suggestive content, slight cursing, mentions of alcohol use, mentions of jealousy, literal sex
summary: You’re Matt’s secretary, in charge of overseeing everything related to his schedule. Everyday when you come into the office he suppresses the urge to take you then and there. When on a work business trip, he can’t hold back anymore.
You loved your job, not because it was your dream job, but because it was easy. You went into work, did what you had to do, and at the end of the day you could go home and disconnect from it entirely. There were some odd days when your boss, Matthew, would call you in your days off or call you from home to ask about something. But, for the most part, you could completely forget about the job once you clocked out.
Just because the job was easy doesn’t mean that there wasn’t rules to be followed. As the boss of a world renowned magazine company, Matt always made sure to enforce them. For example, deadlines had to be met, sales were critical, and the workplace environment was meant to remain professional. He was a strict, straightforward boss and didn’t play when it came to the rules. Another one of his big rules was time management, he hated when people were late.
You were running a little late today, and as the boss’s secretary that was completely unacceptable. You stayed up late last night with an old friend, catching up on life and drinking one too many glasses of wine. Before you knew it, it was midnight and you still weren’t home. By the time you fell asleep it was already 3 in the morning. As a result, this morning you woke up late, you had to force yourself out of bed and rush to get ready.
So, now you’re walking into the office an hour late wearing an outfit you would’ve never picked out if you were in your right state of mind. You avoid eye contact with your coworkers as you make your way to your desk that’s situated in yours and Matt’s shared office. That was the worst part, out of all your coworkers you were the only one who had to be with the boss throughout the entire work day. There was no room for mistakes, especially on your part.
“You’re late,” Matt grumbles as he watches you dump your things onto your desk. You looked frazzled, but he wasn’t going to make an exception for you just because you were his secretary. Sure he’d built a rapport with you from working alongside you all these years, but if he made an exception for you then he’d have to do it for everyone.
“I know, I’m so sorry Mr. Sturniolo,” you reply meekly, avoiding eye contact out of embarrassment. You hated this, you felt like a school girl getting reprimanded for missing homework. If he wasn’t such a strict boss, maybe you’d take the time to explain why you were late, but you knew better than that. He would just see it as an excuse and write you off as a lazy employee.
Matt takes a long look at you, you were wearing a skirt that was definitely not workplace appropriate. He hated how easily he got riled up at the sight of your legs. He looks away immediately, training his gaze on the computer in his desk. “I’ve got a lot of meetings today, Y/n. I need you performing at your best potential, so get it together,” he says sternly, trying to think about anything other than you in that tiny skirt. You finally situate yourself at your desk, adjusting your skirt so it won’t ride up. It’s no use, this skirt was definitely not meant for the office.
“Yes, sir,” you reply, turning on your computer and preparing yourself for the long work day ahead.
For the rest of the day you sit in business meetings taking notes and writing down important dates and deadlines. For the most part, you’re really bored, but you were already late today and can’t afford another mistake, so you try your best to pay attention so you don’t miss anything.
Matt sits next to you, watching as you mindlessly take notes on what the presenter is saying. These meetings were very important and it was imperative that he paid attention too, but he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander down to your legs. They’re crossed under the table, your ankle swaying back and forth rhythmically. If he could, he’d crawl under the table and spread your leg-
“Okay, Mr. Sturniolo, you’re up,” the presenter suddenly says, breaking him from his thoughts. Matt coughs awkwardly, adjusting his pants slightly to hide his growing erection. He stands from his seat, taking the remote clicker from the man and continuing the presentation.
Matt knows this information like the back of his hand, it’s all numbers and statistics that he’s memorized over the course of managing such a large company, but as you sit there with your legs on full display he can’t think straight. He stutters throughout the entire presentation and at one point completely zones out with thoughts of you bent over the desk, pushed up against the wall, or even squirming in your seat.
“Sir?” you ask timidly, he’s been quiet for a while and is just staring down at you. His eyes pierce into you, lighting your skin on fire. The other men were looking around confused as to why the presentation stopped.
Your voice breaks him from his thoughts yet again and he coughs awkwardly for the second time. “Would you like me to get you a water?” you ask politely, standing from your seat. As you do this, your legs uncross and Matt catches a glimpse of your lacy underwear. His brain is on fire with thoughts of you.
He forces himself to look away with a clenched jaw as you quickly adjust your skirt. “Yes that would be nice. Thank you, Y/n,” he finally manages to say. You nod your head and excuse yourself from the group of men briefly.
All of the men allow their eyes to wander on your body, taking you in like a tall drink of water. They were all silently wishing they had a secretary like you.
“Pretty girl you got there,” one man comments as he leans forward in his seat to watch you walk down the hall. The skirt ended right above the edge of your ass, lifting slightly with each sway of your hips.
Matt sends him a warning glare before returning back to the presentation.
“Don’t forget to book the flights for the company trip. You and I will be leaving two days early to make sure everything is in order. Make sure you account for that, okay?” Matt says as he rapidly walks from the conference room to your shared office. You walk behind him, holding your skirt down with your left hand as your right arm is holding the papers from the previous meeting. Matt needed to walk in front of you or he’d be staring at your ass and legs, unable to concentrate on anything else.
“Are you catching all of this?” He asks, waving his hand in the air to catch your attention.
“Yes sir, I’m just um- I’m struggling with these papers,” you admit, adjusting the stack of papers again so they won’t fall to the floor. He stop his rapid walking and looks back at you, feeling bad for leaving you with the brunt of the work all the time. If he was honest, he was very harsh with you and would often overwork you, but it was because he always found himself staring and admiring at you. If he wasn’t so harsh with you then he’d certainly cross the line of professionalism in your relationship and entire uncharted territory.
Matt takes the stack of papers from you, mumbling a small sorry as he does it. He’s careful not to graze your skin, knowing that your simple touch would send him into a frenzy. He couldn’t trust himself yet, especially not with the skirt you’re wearing. He needs an excuse to get as far away from you as possible right now.
“You can go to lunch.”
“Are you sure? It’s only 11 and I still have to book the fli-”
“Yes. Bring me a sandwich from the deli I like. You can finish that later.”
You’re confused, he never sends you to lunch this early, especially not after business meetings. He’d usually have you type up a report or schedule the next meeting, sometimes he’d even assign you busy work like reorganizing the files or shredding letters. You don’t question it though, you knew better than that. Instead you send him a nod and head out to grab lunch.
As soon as you’re gone he’s relieved, he makes his way into the office, dumping the stack of papers on your desk before slumping down on his chair. He sighs, it’s a sigh of relief, but also of frustration. Everytime he closes his eyes his mind is overtaken with thoughts of you.
The thought of you sitting so close to him everyday, those lacy underwear mere inches from him. Your legs on full display for him, ready to be spread open at any moment. That tiny skirt riding up every time you took a singular step. Even your hands as they expertly typed away on your computer. The thought of you was driving him crazy, he doesn’t know how he survives entire workdays with you so close. If he could have it his way, you would’ve been bent over your desk the second you arrived late to work, for the simple fact that you arrived late. Then he would’ve eaten you out until you were begging him to stop as punishment for wearing a skirt so short. But he’s your boss and he needs to control himself and his thoughts.
His eyes are squeezed shut and his jaw clenched as he tried to think of anything other than you, but no matter how hard he tried his mind always came back to you. His dick twitches at the thought of you pressed up against the wall, your skirt halfway up your abdomen as he fucks into you relentlessly. He thinks about how he’d pick you up and guide you towards his chair where he’d let you do all the work, bouncing up and down on him for hours. Your hair would fall onto your face and he’d have to push it back, creating a make-shift ponytail to use as leverage to fuck into you harder.
His hand starts subconsciously wandering onto his hard, clothed dick at the thought. No one is here to watch him, the door is closed and you’re off on your lunch break, if he’s quick enough he can get in a quick, satisfying release. The idea floats around his head as he imagines you on your knees, face covered in his cum. Your lips would wrap perfectly around him, just like they wrapped around the straws he’s watched you drink from. Then he’d lay you on the desk on top of all the paperwork as he fucked you until the desk broke.
One time won’t hurt, right?
Briefly he looks around the room, making sure no one walks in as he begins unbuckling his pants. This is the first and only time he’s allowing himself to go this far at the thought of you. An adrenaline rush surges through him as he pulls his zipper down, becoming anxious to touch himself. His dick is twitching, precum leaking out as if it’s crying and begging to be set free.
As he’s about to let his throbbing penis free of its constraints, the door opens abruptly, causing him to look up in shock and immediately scoot himself closer into the desk. He tries his best to hide himself under the desk, using the ledge to serve as a shield.
You walk in with a big, kind smile, a bag of food in one hand and two drinks in the other. “Here’s your sandwich, Mr. Sturniolo,” you say, as you place the bag and one of the drinks onto his desk. “They didn’t have the soda you like so I brought this instead, I hope that’s okay. If not I brought another option,” you ramble on, plopping an alternate drink on the table.
His face is red hot and he won’t meet your gaze, “That’s fine, y/n. Thank you.”
“If you don’t like it I can get something else, I just didn’t know which one you’d like-”
“Y/n. You can go,” he interrupts you sternly, embarrassed that he was almost caught. You stand in silence, taking the hint that your boss wanted to be alone. You grab the paperwork from earlier and a pen before dismissing yourself quickly, deciding to work through the rest of your lunch break in the break room.
When you’re gone, Matt lets out another sigh of relief before looking down at his pants. They’re unbuckled, exposing the hem of his underwear. He quickly readjusts himself before looking at the bag of food.
He wasn’t even hungry anymore. All he could think about was you.
You’re currently preparing to board the plane for the long awaited company-wide business trip. The trip is to a resort where other major magazine companies will be hosting a week long conference. You and Matt are leaving two days early to ensure that everything is in order. This means that it’s your responsibility to make sure that all the company presentations, spreadsheets, paperwork, informational brochures, documents, and other records are in order. The thought of it stresses you out, you can’t even begin to imagine what Matt would do if even a single thing went wrong.
Even if you’d have some time to yourself in the resort, the thought of actually working made you dread the trip. But you put on your best performance as you walk behind Matt in the large airport in search of your boarding gate. Your suitcase is heavy, filled with all your personal necessities, some casual clothes, and a plethora of work clothes.
“Mr. Sturniolo? I think you might be heading the wrong way. I wanna say that the boarding gate is over here,” you speak shyly, afraid to overstep when speaking with your boss.
“Matt.” he replies, he hates that you call him ‘Mr. Sturniolo,’ it was a constant reminder that he was your superior, your boss. A reminder that you’d never be able to be his unless he fired you or risked a workplace scandal. “I’m sorry?” you ask, unsure of what he meant by that. You knew his name was Matthew, but you’d never called him anything but his last name.
“Please just call me Matt,” he reiterates. After years of working by your side, he’s determined to finally make an impression on you that doesn’t scream ‘I’m your boss!’ You hum in response, finally realizing that he wants you to refer to him by his first name. The thought of being on first name basis with your boss was a little weird, but it humanized him a bit and made him seem less intimidating.
“Okay. Well, Matt I think you’re heading towards the wrong gate.”
He looks around the airport, then down again at his ticket, realizing that he is in fact heading the wrong way. “You’d be right, Y/n,” he replies with a playful grin.
He’s dressed very casually, it’s an outfit that you’d be able to wear to a grocery store, but still lounge around your house in. The look contrasted his everyday attire drastically, he almost looked… normal? He didn’t look like a man who manages one of the largest magazine companies in the world, a man who drives a sports car, a man who has a secretary ready to do what he says when he says it. No, he looks like a man who walks his dog in the afternoon, a man who reads books before going to bed, a man who washes the dishes after every meal. He just looked normal and that made him easier to talk to.
The two of you begin walking to your designated gate, Matt trails behind you and takes in your attire too. You’re wearing a pair of leggings, a fitted top, sneakers, and a cropped sweater. You look great, but the change of style opens his imagination to the thought of you being fucked in a domestic setting. He could imagine you on the couch, by the sink, or even in the shower. He hated how easily his mind wandered into sexual territory, but he loved thinking about it.
You two board the plane quickly. You take the window seat, letting Matt situate himself in the aisle seat. The flight isn’t too long, but you’ve prepared yourself with some activities in case you become bored or restless.
Throughout the entire flight Matt is still thinking about you. All he can do is hope you don’t look down at his lap and see how excited he truly is. Fortunately for him, you’re deeply immersed in a game of sudoku. You’re biting the end of your pen in concentration, your eyes wandering across the page as you try and figure the puzzle out. He wishes you were biting across his skin, or that your lips were occupied with something else…
He takes a look at your lips, then at the page in front of you, “6 goes here.” His finger points to a specific square on the puzzle, breaking you from your concentration. You pause your chewing, processing the information Matt just said. You write in the 6, that singular move solving the entire puzzle for you as you quickly fill in the rest of the boxes.
A big smile is planted on your face, “wanna try?” You extend the book and pen out for him. He doesn’t have anything else to do, so he shrugs and takes the items from you, “sure.” In the process his hands graze against yours, goosebumps raising along his arms immediately. “Okay, well while you do that I’m gonna go to the restroom,” you comment, getting up from your seat so you can head to the back of the airplane.
You shuffle out of your seat, pressing your stomach to the seat in front of you as you try to wiggle out onto the aisle. Your butt briefly grazes Matt’s knee, your thigh touching his inner leg as you weave your way through his legs. “Sorry,” you whisper to him, finally making your way into the aisle. He wishes he could grab a hold of your hips, rip off your leggings, and pull you down onto his lap then and there. Even with all these people occupying the rest of the airplane, he’d fuck you so hard you’d forget how to walk.
His eyes do a once over on your whole body as you walk down the aisle, your tight leggings leaving little to the imagination. A small groan escapes his lips, if this is how he was feeling during the flight how was he going to survive the entire trip?
Matt shakes his head, beating himself up for being such a pervert. He stares down at the sudoku puzzle in front of him, suddenly forgetting all the rules.
The resort is huge, much bigger than the resort used for last year’s conference. Every year a different company hosts the conference, this year your company’s top rival was hosting. They were known to show off and pamper their guests, which would explain the grandious size of the resort.
You and Matt walk up to the front desk with your suitcases trailing behind you, ready to check in. The clerk at the front desk offers you both a warm smile as he asks for the name of the reservation.
“Matthew Sturniolo, we’re here for a weeklong event,” Matt replies, taking his ID out for further proof of identification. As you admire the luxurious look of the lobby the clerk looks for the reservation on the computer. When he finds it he immediately pulls out his rehearsed speech before handing Matt a singular key card, “Awesome! Looks like you two will be in a master suite on the top floor. Here’s the keycard, if you have any questions feel free to use your room phone to ring the front desk. We do offer room service which can also be accessed through the room phone. Enjoy your stay!”
Matt waits for another key card, because there should be two rooms, but the clerk becomes preoccupied with the computer once again. “I’m sorry. I reserved two rooms,” he says politely, trying not to lose his temper. If there was one thing he hated it was incompetent workers, and if this worker wasn’t so incompetent he would’ve known that Matt had two rooms. The clerk looks up from the computer briefly before checking again on the reservation status, “Right! Well it looks like the rooms you previously booked were given to two other guests. A lot of people will be visiting us for this conference so they had to move a couple of people around to make room for everyone. That’s why you’ll be sharing a room now.”
You watch as the situation unfolds, ready to step in if Matt became too abrasive. As a secretary, you were used to dealing with mistakes like this and have become an expert at deescalating situations, especially with Matt as your boss. He has a tendency to lose his temper or make snarky remarks and then leave you to deal with the aftermath.
Matt’s about to lose his temper and the clerk can tell so he quickly interjects again, “Don’t worry, sir. The room is very large and is equipped with a Queen sized bed. If you have any issues, we will work with you.”
Matt’s about to say something he shouldn’t, but is stopped by your gentle hand on his shoulder as you speak, “Thank you! We will call if there are any issues.” You grab the key card from the desk and pull Matt away and towards the elevator as you offer the clerk an apologetic smile.
He’s tense at your touch, because it elicits something feral in him, but also because he’s still on edge from the previous conversation. “I’m sure the room is big enough,” you comment once you two are inside the elevator. You can tell he’s bothered, his jaw is clenched and his fists are balled up so tight it causes his arms to flex. Even though he’s clearly angry, he looks extremely handsome right now. If he wasn’t your boss you’d even go as far as to say he looked hot.
“Doesn’t matter. I reserved two rooms, we should’ve gotten two rooms.”
“Yeah, but we’ll make it work,” you say with a smile, trying to remain positive.
“That’s not the point,” he grumbles. The elevator dings with each floor, and each ding reminds him that he’s closer to having to share a room with you for an entire week. If he wasn’t able to contain himself at the office, or even on the airplane, how was he ever meant to survive an entire week with you?
The elevator dings one last time as you reach the top floor, the doors opening slowly to reveal a long hallway. You exit the elevator, Matt following suit behind you as you read the keycard. The keycard reads room #505, it’s all the way at the end of the hall, perfectly secluded in a corner.
This only sends Matt’s imagination more wild, he didn’t know how he was going to keep his hands off of you for an entire week.
After getting settled, Matt informs you that there’s a brief introductory meeting that you need to attend. He tells you to dress up professionally because a lot of important people were going to be there and to be prepared to take notes. You know this is a business trip, but a part of you was hoping to relax the first night. With Matt as your boss, you should’ve known better.
The living situation wasn’t that bad, the room was very large, complete with a queen size bed, two closets, and a restroom that had a his and hers sink. Before doing anything else you two got situated, Matt insisted on sleeping on the floor, but after further deliberation you insisted he join you in the bed. You were adults after all, it didn’t have to be weird. He protested at first, but the thought of sleeping in the same bed as you was exciting.
After that, you decided to take a shower. You needed to wash off the jet lag from the flight. While you were in the shower Matt’s brain was going wild with thoughts of you. The water slowly running down your body, being able to see your silhouette through the foggy glass, pressing you up against the glass as he fucked you from behind. He was itching to get up from the bed, barge into the restroom and finally make you his. But he had to remind himself that this was a purely professional trip, that you were only in the same room due to circumstance.
You’re currently lining your lips, adding all the finishing touches to your makeup. You decided on a black dress, it was simple and classy, but still fun. Your hair was perfectly styled to show off a silver necklace and matching earrings, they were actually a gift from Matt. He gave them to you one Christmas, mumbling something about how they were from the company, but in reality he chose them himself specifically for you.
Matt’s been dressed for a while now, waiting for you to get out of the restroom so he can make any last adjustments to his outfit. You’re taking forever though and he still needs to put on is his tie, so he decides to walk into the restroom and use the mirror adjacent to yours.
As soon as he walks into the restroom his eyes are all over you, admiring everything about your face, body, and outfit. He notices you’re wearing the jewelry he gifted you and he makes a mental note to gift you another set.
“You look nice,” he comments nonchalantly, his fingers working expertly to tie his tie around his neck. You smile at him through the mirror, popping on a thick layer of lipgloss before returning the sentiment, “you clean up nice yourself.” Matt sends you a smile of his own, flattening the tie against his button up shirt. His outfit matched yours, it was all black from head to toe. It was a nice coincidence that made you two look almost like a couple.
You reach out your hands to fix his collar, it was popping out slightly. “Lemme fix this,” you whisper, your fingertips grazed against his neck. His breath hitches in his throat as he tried not to look down, he had the perfect view of your chest from where he was standing. He’s in the perfect position to pick you up and fuck you on the bathroom counter. If he wanted to he could smudge your lipstick, and fuck you so hard you cry, ruining your makeup.
“Thanks,” he whispers back, placing his hands on your hips to move you away from the mirror. His touch sends a shiver down your spine, he’s never touched you like that before. Matt tries to focus his attention on his reflection, ignoring his once again growing erection.
You look him up and down, noticing the tent in his pants for the first time. He looks so sexy right now that you want to get on your knees and worship him, servicing his cock until it has nothing left to offer. Then you’d let him pleasure you as you sit on the countertop, his head between your thighs.
You shock yourself with your dirty thoughts, turning abruptly towards the mirror as you try ignoring the sexual tension.
The meeting was more of a cocktail party, it was the perfect setting to get to know everyone before the real work started. Most of the people here were men in power, followed around by their assistants, secretaries, and interns. There wasn’t much for you to do but follow Matt around as he introduced you to a few of his colleagues. You remembered most of them from previous business trips, but still did your rounds around the event.
After getting comfortable and introducing you to everyone, the drinks started. You dismissed yourself and wandered off to find a drink for yourself. Matt wasn’t a big drinker, especially not at events like this, but he let himself fall victim to peer pressure. He found himself drinking scotch, whiskey, and vodka with a group of extremely powerful and wealthy men. They were hooting and hollering, engaging in conversation about all the females in their field that they’d fucked. Matt didn’t have any stories to share on the subject, so after a while he bid the men goodbye to look for you.
He was kind of drunk at this point, stumbling slightly as he searched for you. You were at the bar drinking a martini while talking to a man. He, much like you, was an assistant to a very powerful man. The conversation between you two was casual and innocent, but as Matt watched he couldn’t help but feel jealous.
“Does your boss drag you along to boring events like this too?” the man asked, taking a sip of his own drink. You weren’t drunk, but you were getting there. You take a sip of your drink and look around the room, catching a glimpse of Matt in a far corner. He looked upset and drunk. “Mmm yeah, but the job is easy so I don’t complain,” you reply, your eyes trained on Matt’s approaching figure. His nostrils were flared, jaw clenched, and the fabric of his shirt strained against his flexed arms.
“Umm that’s actually my boss there. I better go,” you say, hopping off the barstool. Your dress rides up slightly, exposing more of your thigh than necessary. The man watches as you walk towards Matt without a word, before turning to the bartender and asking for another drink.
“Are you drunk?” You immediately ask Matt once you meet. He doesn’t say anything, instead grabbing your arm and looping it around his. This is his attempt at leaving the event while looking put together and professional. He dismisses himself from the few colleagues you run into on the way out as he leads you towards the elevator. You play along, but once the elevator doors close you pull your arm away.
“What was that about?”
“Didn’t like the way that guy was looking at you,” Matt replies in a gruff tone. He presses the button to your floor aggressively. “Okay, but why did we have to leave?” you’re feeling feisty, the martinis giving you the daring push you needed to express yourself.
“I wasn’t planning on leaving, I was just looking for you. But when I saw how that guy was looking at you, I decided it’d be better for us to go back to our room.”
You roll your eyes and scoff, crossing your arms, causing your boobs to pop out slightly from your dress. You didn’t need a protector, especially not when the man you were talking to was just being nice. Matt looks at you when you scoff, groaning at the sight of your boobs spilling out of your dress. “Don’t do that,” he instructs drunkenly, pointing towards your arms. You look down at your chest, noticing how exposed you are, but you’re too drunk to care.
“Don’t do this?” you tease, pushing your chest out further. Matt inches closer to you, his face dangerously close to yours. “Stop” he whispers sternly, allowing his arms to rest on your hips as his nose grazes yours. “Or what?” you’re taunting him at this point, trying to see how far he’d go with you. But you’re drunk and so is he, if you two were sober you’d never be this bold.
The elevator rings, signaling that you’ve reached your floor. The sudden sound is sobering, it pulls you both from your trance, causing you to pull away immediately.
The walk to your room is awkward, the sexual tension lingering as you adjust your dress. Were you really about to kiss your boss? You try convincing yourself that that only happened because of the alcohol, you’re too inebriated to act against your natural, feral instincts. You fumble for the keycard in your purse, opening the door nervously before walking in. How were you supposed to sleep next to Matt after that?
“I’ll sleep on the floor, Mr. Sturniolo,” you comment quickly as you sit on the edge of the bed, unstrapping your heels. The use of his last name catches his off guard, “I thought I told you to call me Matt.” You didn’t even realize you reverted back to using his last name, but there must be something telling you to remain professional. For the sake of this trip and for your job.
He’s standing over you, looking down at you with an intimidating look. You look up at him, leaning back into the bed slightly to get a better look at him, “Right. Sorry, Matt.” Whatever awkwardness you felt was quickly dissipating as the wetness between your legs grew. He used his knee to separate your legs, standing in between them as he took ahold of your face.
Matt leans down closer to you, his lips inches from yours as he says, “Make it up to me.” Without another word, he takes your lips in his. It’s a slow and sensual kiss, and your arms fold so that you’re now resting on your elbows. Matt’s now on top of you, his body fitting against yourself perfectly.
“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this,” he whispers against your lips, holding himself up with one hand as he allows the other to trace from your face to your chest. He’s admiring everything about you, his fingers toying with the silver necklace around your neck. You’re watching him in awe, you’ve never known a man as sexy as him.
“Matt-“
“Shhh, pretty girl. You can moan my name all night long, but first I need you to do me a favor,” he says, pushing himself off the bed, you prop yourself up eagerly in the process. You watch as he unbuckles his belt and undoes his pants swiftly, pulling them down to reveal his underwear. Your mouth waters at the sight, his dick struggling against the cloth. You know exactly what he wants and you’re ready to comply.
“Open up, pretty girl,” he instructs, whipping his cock out and pumping himself briefly. You do as you’re told, kneeling between him and the bed as you open your mouth for him. His dick is big, but you’re so hungry for him that you don’t question how it’ll all fit.
Matt lets you take control from here, moving his hands to the sides of your face to caress a few strands of hair out of your face. He watches as you take his cock into your hand, pumping it slowly as you kiss from the base all the way to the tip. A groan escapes his lips when you finally wrap your lips around the tip, swirling your tongue around the slit in the process.
He moves his hand to the back of your head, moving his hips closer to you as he pushes himself into your mouth fully. Matt thrusts into your face slowly, using his hand to keep your head in place. Your eyes begin to water, small gag noises following each time he hits the back of your throat. “So good,” he moans, throwing his head back in pleasure as you hollow your cheeks around his cock.
He fucks your face faster, causing tears to brim at your waterline. You look so beautiful under him, taking him without a complaint. This is better than everything he’s imagined, you look so innocent under him with tour hands on your knees, pushing your boobs out for him. The sight alone is enough to make him cum, he pulls out of your mouth completely letting you catch your breath as he feverishly strokes himself.
You don’t miss a beat, moving your face closer to him so you can kiss the base of his cock and suck his balls as he continues stroking himself. He groans at your eagerness to please, pushing your face back and instructing you to open your mouth again. You do as your told, Matt laying his heavy dick in your mouth as his cum decorates your tongue. His moans fill the room as he praises you for taking him so well.
You take him in your mouth again, swallowing the cum in the process, bobbing your head up and down his cock a few times. You kiss his tip, a small whimper coming from Matt. You’re drenched at this point, the only thing you can think about is his dick inside you, your spongy walls clenching around him.
He watches attentively as you stand up seductively from your spot on the floor, your knees are red and your makeup is ruined. You look so sexy, he’s ready to go again. You kiss him, moaning into his mouth as one of his arms wraps around your waist and the other massages the skin right under the hem of your dress.
“Fuck me, please,” you whisper into the kiss. You asked so nicely that it makes his dick twitch.
He doesn’t have to be told twice, instead he guides your make-out session to the restroom where he turns you around so your ass is flush against him. You moan as he pulls your dress down, accidentally tearing the straps in the process to free your boobs. He’s watching you from the mirror, taking in how your boobs bounce with every movement.
Matt’s fingers trace along your chest, slowly reaching your nipples. He pinches your nipples between his cold fingers, eliciting another moan from you. “So beautiful,” he mumbles, trailing kisses from your neck to your shoulder. Your hands hold you up against the counter and your head is thrown back in pleasure, resting against his shoulder as you await his neck move.
One of his hands cups your breast as the other works towards moving your lace underwear to the side. He groans at the feeling of your wet folds against his fingers, you were all worked up and it was just for him. “So wet. Is this all for me?” he asks, locking eyes with you in the mirror. You bite your lip, nodding your head feverishly. All you want is for him to fuck you already.
“Use your words, baby.”
“It’s all for you Matt.”
He seems satisfied with your response because he finally lines himself up with your entrance, letting his tip sit there for a while before fully pushing himself in. You are immediately sent to a state of euphoria at the feeling of him inside of you, breathless pants and moans escaping your lips. Matt moans out your name as every fantasy he’s had about you flashes through his mind, none of them comparing to the sight in front of him right now.
One of his arms is wrapped around your waist while the other snakes around your chest so he can hold one of your boobs. Your head is thrown onto his shoulder as you try to anchor yourself to the counter with your hands. His hips snap back and forth as he pumps in and out of you, causing your body to rock against the counter top.
“You feel so good,” he moans, holding you tighter against him. You’re clenching around him, one of your hands reaching behind you to grab his neck. You turn your face towards him and capture his lips in a heated kiss as he continues fucking into you, his fingers pinching your nipples and massages your breast. You’re moaning his name into his mouth, a string of curse words following as you feel your climax approaching.
He picks up on your queues and doesn’t slow down, kissing you harder as he pushes you past your breaking point. Matt feels you clench around him one last time, a loud, high pitched moan following as you come undone on his cock. He pulls away from the kiss so he can see your fucked out expression through the mirror. You look so sexy, taking him entirely like a good, obedient girl.
He grins at the sight in front of him, pecking your shoulder before grabbing a fistful of your hair and fucking you harder than before. His orgasm is close, and he’s chasing it faster and faster with each thrust. One hand is gripping your hair as the other rests on the small of your back, he watches as your ass jiggles against him with each thrust. You’re whimpering at this point, still very sensitive from your previous orgasm.
“So perfect,” he mumbles. The room is filled with the sound of your whimpers, Matt’s groans, and your skin slapping against each other as he drops his warm, sticky load inside of you. This time it’s your turn to watch him from the mirror, his eyebrows are furrowed and his jaw is slack as his hips stutter inside of you, breathy moans tickling your back.
“Fuck,” he groans, snapping his hips into you one last time before pulling out of you completely.
Matt’s grip around you is still firm, holding you up so you can balance yourself properly. The two of you catch your breath before you turn to face him, a fucked out look on your face as you smile at him. He smiles too, snaking his arms around your waist and pulling you in for a genuine kiss. Not a ‘let’s fuck again kiss,’ but a genuine kiss.
“How am I supposed to work with you after that?” you joke, placing your arms on his chest.
“You’ll manage,” he says with a smirk, pecking your lips again.
MASTERLIST
A/n:
Happy Valentine’s Day enjoy this boss Matt story😋Kk byeeeeee
- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗
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agendabymooner · 10 months
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SOMETHING MISSED !!! ALEX A. X FEM!READER (18+)
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summary: she missed him, that was why they got into an argument that led him to make it up after walking out on her.
content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), hurt/comfort-ish, argument + alex walking out, use of explicit language, p in v penetration, unprotected sex (a big no no to me but i can’t help it), cockwarming, mentions of aftercare, not proofread
song rec: 13 by lany
note: i said i was going to nap before pulling an all nighter. i’m also a bitchass liar and wrote this in the span of 40 minutes looooool! i pitched this idea to @daaiissyyyyy few days ago sooooo uh enjoy xx
something sinful (smut) masterlist
a - n masterlist
o - z masterlist
if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out!
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they’ve never fought like that before and they couldn’t lie to themselves about that. 
they were so used to being around each other for so long that “being busy for the other” was just a foreign concept for the two. and having an argument until one of them would walk out? 
yeah. they hadn’t expected that either. she certainly hadn’t expected alex to walk out, of all people. he was usually calm and collected as much as she was, but everyone knew that he wouldn’t be the first to head straight to his friends so he wouldn’t lose it on her. 
she blamed herself for how things had turned out. she knew all too well that he was busy, yet she continued to pester him and had given up and voiced her frustration. she hadn’t seen him for weeks— thanks to his triple header and her busy schedule at the university.
and when she finally expressed her concern, he didn’t hesitate to say how upset he was for the fact that she wasn't able to be there for his races— how going back to university had affected their relationship.
“you’re a dickhead for that,” george told alex after the thai driver arrived in front of his front porch and they spoke over a bottle of wine. george only scoffed at him, “she loves you despite your constant travelling for your career— and you’re unhappy for her decision to pursue hers? absolute rubbish, alex.”
and to be fair, george was right; alex shouldn’t be acting like she hadn’t been there for him since they were young. it was her time to choose her own path to success— and he shouldn’t be acting like a right asshole because she had a dream too. instead, he should be there to love her. 
and that was how he found himself shutting the door of their flat quietly, trying not to wake her up despite being a heavy sleeper. he hoped to hop out of his clothes and into his pajama so he could get up tomorrow and speak to her. 
but it seemed liked their conversation would have to happen now as a head popped up from the couch, frazzled hair and puzzled look on the woman’s face as she squinted lightly and called, “alex?” 
“he- hi,” alex said softly, his brow raising as he wondered what she was doing on the couch. 
now reading the expression on his face, she sat up and smiled sadly, “i- uh, i didn’t know if you were coming back tonight or staying at george’s so… i waited.”
alex nodded in understanding before he made his way around the couch. his eyes immediately trailed down the blue lace nightgown that she wore, her legs propped to the side as he realized that she’d been sleeping on the couch. 
she immediately scooted and allowed him to sit next to her. alex pulled her legs and rested them on his lap. 
he sighed, “i’m really sorry for walking out like that.” 
“no, if anything i should say sorry,” she smiled apologetically, “i- i know the season’s been rough. the points are weighing down on you and i shouldn’t have been complaining.”
“you’re entitled to voice out your worries, baby,” alex’s fingers innocently traced over her legs as he murmured, “i was just being a dickhead about it.”
“i just— i missed you so much,” she said quietly, alex’s ears perking up in curiosity and worries as she continued to speak, “school work is draining and- i don’t know. i just miss you— i miss your cuddles and just… your touch.”
“i’m here now, my love,” alex pulled her on his lap as his fingers lightly gripped on her hips. 
out of desperation, she immediately grounded herself against his lap as alex moaned lightly as the friction in his jeans. “fuck…” alex said almost breathlessly, “i’ve got to make it up to you, baby.”
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“o— hah~ fuck alex~ ‘m so full,” she cried quietly, her legs growing tired as she continued to bounce up and down his cock. the sensitive spot inside of her overstimulated as alex groaned in pleasure, his hands were sure to leave a mark as he continued to grip on her hips. 
“did you miss that, baby?” he said breathlessly, his hands now guiding her as his hips began to thrust up and his cock began pistoning inside her cunt. she only let out a whine as alex chuckled, “you miss my cock inside of your cunt, sweetheart?”
“fuck, baby, yes,” she nodded eagerly, her tits bouncing in front of him as she babbled, “missed your cock— miss your cock inside my pussy- i missed this— fuck! please~”
“what do you want, baby?” alex let out a low moan, “tell me what you want. god, princess, you feel so good around me.” he growled quietly as he felt her clenching around his girth. 
he really had missed this. 
“i’m gonna- ah! fuck, baby,” she sobbed, tears of pleasure falling down her cheeks as she babbled, “‘m gonna cum. want you so bad- please, please, fuck me harder alex i- hah! fuck!” 
alex didn’t spend that much time considering her request, his hips were now off the mattress as he began to thrust rapidly and roughly. the tone of their moans and rhythms of skin slapping were making music, producing a sound of love to make up for. 
she let out a high pitched chant of, ‘yes’ and ‘fuck’ as her walls clenched around his cock. alex’s groans tuned down to a lower octave as they both chased their highs. 
“fuck, baby,” alex groaned as he finally slowed down, filling her cunt full with his cum as she let out a strangled whine. her cunt throbbed around him as they slumped down on the bed. 
or rather, alex slumped down on the mattress while her body limped on top of him. she sighed, exhausted like he was. 
he tried to pull her away from his cock as he whispered, “baby, we gotta clean you up—“
“no,” she murmured and pleaded, “just… just hold me.”
“are you sure? baby, ‘m still inside of you,” it wasn’t anything that alex would be against, but he was more worried for her at the moment.
“‘s okay, i- uh,” she looked up at him with a flushed face and a tired smile, “it’s warm— keeps me warm… i like it.”
“are you sure?” with another nod from her, alex finally accepted his newfound love for this closeness as he sighed and kissed her head. “okay. let’s… stay like this then.”
yeah… he could get used to holding her like this. 
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♡   moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan
♡   moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1
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Text
Adventures of the Batfamily- Tim has been kidnapped, Batman is fighting an imposter in same suit as him, and now Jason and Nightwing have to choose who is the real batman... this isn't going to end well.
Red hood: Why is the suit exactly the same as his?
Batman: Good costume store I imagine.
Imposter: Yeah, yours is! Faker! Shoot him!
Jason aims the gun at the real Batman, although he's figured it out already. He's just playing around.
Batman: Don’t shoot me.
Red Hood shrugs and moves the gun to the imposter.
Imposter: Kill him! He’s the fake!
Red Hood moves the gun back over as Nightwing facepalms.
Batman: You can’t seriously think that the imposter might be me! I wouldn't say kill him! Shoot him in the leg or something, yes, but not kill him.
Red Hood waves his gun at both men.
Red Hood: This is quite the conundrum. Which is which? Man, it is mighty difficult to figure this out. Whatever shall I do?
Nightwing: Don’t do this right now.
Red Hood, feigning confusion: It’s tough to… decipher which one is the real Batman. It’s so uncanny, I'm so frazzled!
Nightwing: What is wrong with you?
Red Hood, smirking: Holy stupid phrase you used to say, this is tough.
Nightwing, offended: That... that was uncalled for!
Red Robin tied on a hook hanging from the ceiling.
Red Robin: Oh God hurry up, my body is getting numb!
Red Hood: Hm... I could quiz them!
Batman: You’re enjoying this a little too much. I’ll get you later.
Imposter: Threats! I’d never threaten you! I'm the real Batman!
Red Hood cackles, knowing that's a big lie.
Red Hood: I am enjoying this a little.
Red Robin, kicking his legs: Would you hurry up! I have to go to the bathroom!
Red Hood: Hm… question, who do you care about the most? Me or this loser?
Red Hood points to an angry Nightwing.
Nightwing: You actually are an asshole right now. You know he's going to pick me! Why are you wasting his time?!
Batman, shaking his head: Oh we are not doing this... I'm not answering that because I don't have a favorite! I've said this numerous times!
Red Robin: You sure?!
Batman: Really Red Robin?
Red Robin: I'm trying to distract my bladder! It's me though, right?!
Batman, groaning: Shoot me, just to get me out of this conversation.
Imposter: He's tricking you again! Shoot him!
Red Hood, being so unserious: This is so hard for me… I got it! I’ll just shoot both.
Red Hood moves the gun to both men.
Batman, not mad: Well... this was to be expected.
Imposter: Wait, no, no, no! Shoot him not me! I am Batman! The creeper... of the night... the one who howls.
Batman: That is not my speech!
Nightwing, pointing to the imposter: Oh, it's that guy! He's the fake.
Red Hood slowly turns to Nightwing amazed it took him this long.
Red Hood: Nope still can't decide! Tsk tsk tsk… hmm… who should I hit first?
Nightwing: Stop it.
Red Hood: I’ll shoot both of them in the arm and see what happens.
Batman: Oh my God. Would you stop assuming that’s not a kill shot!
Red Hood: Shush, possibly fake Batman. I got this, I read a lot of textbooks!
Nightwing: Okay I’m taking the gun.
Red Hood: Don’t touch my gun!
Nightwing grabbing hold of the gun: You’re not shooting Batman!
Red Hood and Nightwing fight over the gun as the real Batman just stands there annoyed.
Red Robin, feet dangling: I shouldn't have had tea today. I'm sticking to coffee from here on out.
Batman, sighs: See what you've done? Now I have to deal with these two idiots.
Imposter: Hey I don't care, I'll just use you as a shield when the gun goes off.
Batman chuckles, wincing: Oh God, not used to laughing.
Red Hood: I got this!
Nightwing: Stop waving the gun around!
Red Hood: Then let go of… my arm!
The gun goes off, the imposter Batman attempts to grab the real Batman to get hit, but Batman side steps away and the bullet hits the imposter.
Red Robin: You morons!
Red Hood: Shit I forgot the safety was off.
Nightwing: What?!
Red Hood: Don't snap at me, the gun probably had the safety on and then you turned it... off! Your fault!
Nightwing: You mean!
Tim, distracting his bladder to grammar correct his brother: It's you're, not you!
Imposter falls to the floor with a stomach wound. The real Batman walks to the imposter and unmasks him.
Batman: Great job, kids. You clearly did that on purpose to distract him and weren’t acting like belligerent children.
Nightwing and Red Hood: Yup, planned.
Red Robin: I am begging somebody please let me down!
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dilemmaontwolegs · 8 months
Note
Idk if you watched the movie Were the Millers?? But can you do imagine where reader never had a first kiss and charles and lando give her her first kiss ?? Like the scene with Jenn Anniston, will poulter, and Emma roberts ???
Grounded || LN4 & CL16
AN: Been a while since I watched it but this was fun to write ☺️ virgin!fem!reader
The backseat to Lando’s Range Rover was spacious and you stretched your legs out to settle in for the drive. A snow storm had grounded the planes in London and Lando had offered to put you both up for the night. As Charles assistant you had tried your best to find a hotel but with Christmas right around the corner everything decent was booked out.
Lando had said to call him if you ever needed anything, but you hadn’t been brave enough to use it until now.
“Are you sure it’s okay to drive in the snow?”
“It’s 4 wheel drive,” Lando replied as he looked at you in the rear view mirror and reassured you with a smile. “We’ll be fine, but if we get stuck at least we can huddle for warmth.”
Your eyes widened at the departing wink in the mirror and your cheeks could have melted all the snow within the greater London area. It would have been a service to the city worth a damehood by the King himself.
“Stop teasing my assistant, Lando,” Charles said with a laugh. “She accidentally deleted my calendar the last time you flirted with her.”
You wanted to argue but he had left you so frazzled you hit the wrong buttons on your iPad. It had been mortifying and the fact your boss was bringing it up again only made you slink lower in the leather seat. It was hard enough to work with such a handsome man, but the fact that his friends that he competed against were just as handsome made your life much harder. At least Charles paid you so there was a line of employee/employer relationship that kept things professional, but there was still the occasional comment that crossed that line - and you never knew how to handle it. Mostly, your brain just shut down.
Shoving your AirPods in, you started to open Spotify to find a distraction from your embarrassment and they both noticed it.
“I can’t help it, you cannot tell me that you don’t find the innocent vibe hot?”
Your fingers froze over the song you were about to play and realised they thought you were already listening to something.
“She’s my assistant.”
“That’s not a denial.” Lando was grinning from ear to ear. “I bet she’s still a virgin.”
You spluttered indignantly and both men looked at you, Charles over his shoulder and Lando in the mirror. Tugging the AirPods out you narrowed your eyes and lied, “I am not a vir-” you couldn’t even bring yourself to say it but you swallowed and took another attempt, “virgin.”
The weak lie caused a crack in the press of lips, until both men laughed outright. Huffing, you crossed your arms and looked out the window. “Does it really even matter?”
“Aren’t you even curious?” Lando shot back.
“I know all about sex, for Christ’s sake, I do read.”
“I’m not sure reading is quite the same as doing in this case,” Charles said, remembering the many times he caught you slamming a book closed at his entrance. He was even more intrigued about those thick volumes now.
“Reading doesn’t threaten to leave me disappointed as I have heard men tend to do.”
Lando scoffed and shook his head. “I haven’t had that complaint. Charles?”
“No, no complaints either.”
“I’m sure it’s less romantic than the books describe too, like kissing. What is so good about possibly chipping a tooth, or sharing saliva?”
The SUV screeched to a halt into a rest stop and Lando turned in his seat. “Wait. You’re telling me you’ve never been kissed?”
“Don’t be stupid,” Charles asked, before he turned and saw the telltales signs of your discomfort. “No, really? How? You are beautiful.”
Your mind went to that place of thoughtlessness, where every neurotransmitter misfired and your heart seemed to find itself beating in two places. “Uh…” you scrambled for an answer that they patiently waited for. “I don’t have any time to date so it just hasn’t come about.”
Charles certainly utilised your availability to be on call 24/7 but he hadn’t thought about the personal cost that took on you. He assumed you didn’t have or want a social life, not that he was the cause for it. Maybe that was why he next words slipped out without censoring, or so he told himself. “I will kiss you, right now.”
“Or I can, and I’m not your boss so there wouldn’t be anything wrong with it,” Lando countered, already unbuckling his seatbelt. “Everyone deserves a perfect first kiss.”
You gripped the seatbelt across your chest as you tried to understand why they were both unbuckled and opening their doors. Cold air rushed in as both backdoors opened and they slipped in beside you, mist billowing from their breath before the warmth was sealed inside once more.
Your lips felt dry and they watched as the tip of your tongue peeked out between to wet them. Your fingers were gently pried off the belt until each hand was laced with theirs but you still stared ahead at the unhappy quiet road. “What if I don’t want to be kissed?”
Lando scoffed but Charles turned you to face him with one curled finger under your chin and a look that made breathing impossible. “Then tell me you don’t want to be kissed,” he whispered as his lips drew nearer, his breath fanning your cheek. The touch of his lips were chaste at best, a caress on cheek before trailing closer to the place where words failed. Your toes clenched in your boots and you trembled with anticipation until the air burst back into your burning lungs. Your lips parted with the intake and he struck.
Your stomach that had been knotted suddenly erupted in the explicable feeling you had only read about. Butterflies, chaotic and energetic, fluttered joyously around your insides and a foreign sound escaped your lips that danced with his.
“I think she likes that, Charles.” A hand on your throat stole you from the taste that you certainly wanted more of and when you opened your eyes you found the pair change from green to blue. “My turn, gorgeous.”
Lando didn’t tease. His hand squeezed and you gasped in response, a sound so similar to what Charles had drawn from you. He took the opening you gave him and devoured you with the hunger of a starving man. His tongue dominated yours as he tipped your head back and deepened the kiss further until you were certain you were going to be consumed by him.
You welcomed it.
You weren’t adept enough after two kisses to know whose was better, both left you yearning for more. But they were parked on the side of the road and you were all too well aware that losing your virginity in the back seat of a Ranger was not what you wanted. Even if your body screamed yes.
“How do you feel?” Charles asked as he eyed your swollen lips and your dilated pupils between your flustered blinks with pride.
“Uh…” You told yourself to think but it was nearly impossible, and the men chuckled with the knowledge they had kissed you stupid.
“Just think of what other ‘firsts’ we could be,” Lando offered as he ran a thumb along your bottom lip, wanting another taste. “We could be snowed in for a while.”
“Wait, what?” They cut through your mental haze with clarity and you sat up straighter. “No, the airport said tomorrow…”
Charles shrugged and your brows pinched. “The storm’s worsening, it might be a few days until the planes can take off.”
“It’s okay,” Lando assured you with a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll look after you.”
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