#I wonder if I should start calling him by his actual name instead of 'Bill'

[chestharrington]

For A Good Time Call! || Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Word Count: 14.6k

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Phone Sex Hotline Operator!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (phone sex, m & f masturbation (including pillow humping & sex toys), f!receiving oral sex, p in v sex), language, idiots in love, mutual pining, porn WITH plot

Summary: In the Summer of 1985, Steve's social standing is at an all time low. In an act of sheer, pathetic desperation, he calls a phone sex hotline. Little does he know, his dream girl from the hotline is just an escalator away.

Steve Harrington wasn’t the kind of guy who did this. He repeated it in his head as he scribbled down the phone number— fed straight to him from a local late-night advertisement. For a good time call!

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what that meant. And he wasn’t exactly able to ignore the way his dick twitched in his boxers as the commercial showed pretty girls twirling phone lines around manicured fingers, pretty smiles on their faces, eyes sultry and staring right through him. 

Plus, he wasn’t actually going to call. He was just… keeping the number for his records. He’d just put it in his Rolodex and forget about it. 

A week later, and he decidedly hadn’t forgotten about it. In fact, with the house empty and playboys not cutting it, it’s all he could think about. 

For a good time call. He wanted to have a good time. It had been a while since he had a good time— his stupid Scoops Ahoy uniform wasn’t exactly bolstering his natural charm. Robin could say what she wanted, but he was charming and fun and everything people usually want in a boyfriend. He was just… going through a rough patch. 

He retrieved his Rolodex and hurriedly flipped through, trying to remember where he’d hidden the number. Definitely not around his boss. And not around Nancy either. Tucked between Tommy and a past hookup, he found it. 

He set up his pillows behind his back and got comfortable before dialing the number with uncharacteristically sweaty hands. He was cooler than this was all making him seem. He was the playboy of Hawkins High— of Hawkins in general. Phone sex was nothing. 

As he dialed the number, he prepared to turn on his charm. Instead, he was led to a generic call-center script, which, after being carefully followed based on his wants and desires, took him to billing. 

“It’s a flat rate of twenty for your first ten minutes. If you finish before then, it’s still twenty, alright?”

He swallowed hard. “Okay.”

“After that, it’s fifty cents per minute. An hour session will run you about $55.” Oh. It certainly wasn’t cheap. He’d spent less on dates before. “Is that alright with you?”

“Yeah,” he said after a brief pause, his mind taking a while to catch up. “Do you need my credit card?”

By the time billing was over, his anticipation had tangled his stomach into knots. He glanced at the clock, wondering if those ten minutes would fly past him as fast as he thought they would. The line trilled as he waited to be connected to his partner for the night. Jenny. Like the song.

That song was gross, anyway. But how could he say anything about it now?

The ringing stopped, and he could hear the crackle of a quiet line on the other side, the rustle of movement. Did he need to say hi first? Was trying to start a conversation weird?

“Hi,” he said, and he wondered how he could make one word sound so utterly stupid. “Jenny, right?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed. He could picture you so clearly, despite knowing nothing— one of those pretty girls in the commercials, laying on your belly on a frilly pink bed, fingernails and toenails painted a shiny red, twirling the phone cord around your finger. “What should I call you?”

He swallowed. “Do people usually give you fake names?”

“Sometimes,” you replied. “It’s not about what other people do, baby. It’s about what you want. Do you want me to call you by a fake name?”

He wrinkled his nose. What was the worst thing that could come from a stranger knowing his first name? “No, that sounds awful. No offense.” You laughed, and he felt himself relax. “I’m Steve H—“ He cleared his throat. “Just Steve.”

“Well, I’m glad that I get to talk to you tonight Steve,” you said, and just the sultry timbre of your voice made his stomach do flips. “I’m guessing this is your first time?”

He furrowed his brows. “I’m not a virgin.”

“No, baby. I mean it seems like it’s your first time calling a hotline like this.” His face burned hot as he fumbled his way through answering, oh, yeah, I guess that’s right. “So, sweetheart, why don’t you tell me what you want?”

“Uh…” he paused, trying to think of a more polite way of saying to cum while a pretty girl talks to me. “I guess I’ve just been lonely.”

“Poor baby,” you said, and he was shocked that you didn’t have even a hint of amusement or mirth when you said it. “You want me to take care of you? Help you forget?”

His breath caught in his throat, stealing his response. His dick twitched, already half-hard and sensitive. All he could manage was a tiny whimper of, “Mhmm.”

“What do you usually think about when you’re touching yourself?” You asked, and the lack of shame in your voice made heat flare in his cheeks. He’d had some shameless hookups, but most of the girls he slept with didn’t like to talk about it. “Like, what’s your favorite fantasy, Steve?”

It was embarrassing. Mortifying, actually. It was basically the plot of a bad porno or a letter to Penthouse. 

Usually, it started by his pool. And a girl was there, wearing a cute, but ultimately tiny, bikini. The girl didn’t really matter. Well, she did, but it wasn’t about who she was. She could have been a Playmate of the Month, or a movie star, or a girl he was crushing on and wanted to ask out. All that mattered for the sake of the fantasy, was that she was pretty, had nice tits, and wanted him. 

“Does that make me awful?” He asked, pausing mid-description to gauge your perception of him. You laughed on the other end of the line. 

“God, Steve,” you said with thinly veiled amusement. “You think I give a personality and backstory to all of the people I fantasize about fucking?”

It made him feel a little better.

Anyways, there was something about summertime that just made sense to him. Skin all but steaming in the heat, the oiled up glow that came from sweaty skin. Wearing as few clothes as possible so you didn’t overheat. 

You gave a nervous laugh— breathy and sweet— on the other end of the line. “You’re really good at setting the scene, Steve.” He liked to be specific. He wanted to think about tiny details like the salty taste of skin or hair that smelled like chlorine and salt. “What’s next?”

She always started by laying on her stomach, the ties of her bikini undone so she didn’t get unsightly tan lines. She would peer at him over her shoulder with wide, innocent eyes while she asked if he could apply a bit more sunscreen on her back where she couldn’t reach. 

So he straddled her thighs, her skin burning up under his hands as he rubbed in the freezing cold sunscreen. Goosebumps would break out along her arms, and she’d have to arch away from the sensation, pushing her ass against him. 

“Are you hard already?” You asked, and his cheeks burned hot. 

“Like…” He glanced at his lap, where his cock was already straining against the fabric of his boxers. “In the fantasy or right now?”

“Is the answer the same for both?”

He let out a shaky breath. “Yeah.”

“Keep going.”

He was already impatient. Skipped right to the kissing and cut out the context and actions that led to it. Did it matter? The bikini top fell onto the ground, and she was on top of him, tits pressed into his sun-warmed chest, tongue licking into his mouth. 

God, he fucking loved kissing. He’d missed it so much since he’d graduated and his social clout had depleted to fuck all. There had been dates, and messy, slow makeouts in the back of his car since walking the stage, but not one since his first shift at Scoops Ahoy. It was killing him.

She felt so good in his lap— so warm and heavy. He could have stayed like that forever— trapped beneath a pretty girl with her tongue down his throat. But he wanted more— he always wanted more. 

He wanted more then. As he relayed his fantasy to this stranger in painstaking detail, he ached for more. His hand was flat on his tummy, and he shivered as he slipped it beneath the band of his boxers to take his cock into his hand. He groaned, the back of his head knocking against the wall.

“God, you’re cute,” your voice was so pretty. He throbbed in his grip, making him exhale a shuddering breath. “It’s okay, Steve. You can keep touching yourself while you talk to me. I want you to.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, his voice broken by a tiny whimper. “I don’t have to.”

“I’m sure, baby,” you insisted. “What do you do next, hm? I’m on top of you, kissing you nice and slow, grinding my hips against yours because I just can’t help myself. Tell me what you’re going to do to me.”

“I’d—“ He swallows hard, eyes shut tight. “I’d want to taste you.”

In the fantasy, his hands gripped the back of your thighs, moving you up his body so you were just above his mouth. He was suave and sexy. He’d pull the bow at your hip with his teeth so your swim bottoms fell off like they were nothing. 

And it would feel so comfortable beneath you— so natural for him. He’d just barely have to lean forward to have his mouth on you, already wet so he could taste you on his tongue. He’d moan at your taste— he fucking loved the way pussy tasted, even if he got shit for it in the locker room when he admitted it— and pull you down onto his mouth so he could get impossibly closer. 

It would be messy— a mix of spit and slick on his mouth and chin, making the tip of his nose shine. He’d spend as long as he wanted beneath you, pulling every noise he could from your lips, trapped between your thighs. He wouldn’t stop until you came— once at a minimum, more if he was feeling greedy.

“All this attention on little old me,” you teased. “Would you let me take care of you? I could slip off those swim trunks of yours and make you feel good.”

He had set a steady pace— hand gliding up and down his length as his fantasy continued to evolve. “Yeah,” he managed, but his voice came out strangled and desperate. “You’d put your hand down my shorts and tease me. Your hand would feel so good. Warm and soft. You’d, uh, tell me how big I am, how you wanted to feel me stretch your uh— your—.”

“My what, baby?” Your voice dripped with amusement and mirth. “My pussy?”

“Fuck.” It came out with an exhale, his heart hammering.

“You like it when girls say dirty things to you, Steve?” You asked, and he could hear your smirk. “You want me to beg for your cock so deep inside of me that I feel you in my stomach? Or tell you how warm and wet and tight I feel around my fingers?”

Steve groaned, throbbing in his grip as he worked himself faster. “Fuck, are you really?”

“Mhmm,” you replied. “Think about how good I’d feel when you finally let yourself fuck me. You were such a gentleman first, but you don’t have to be with me. I want to make this all about you.”

But he was a gentleman. Of course he wanted to get his dick wet and et cetera, but that wasn’t really why he liked sex. He liked making people feel good all because of him— hearing the pretty noises they made, watching their initial shyness melt away into unabashed desire. 

A lot of the time (most of the time), he felt like a huge fuck-up. Abysmal grades (well, more around average), not good enough for sports scholarships, basically every bit the son that his parents didn’t want to have. Who could really blame him for relishing in the times when he could be good and impressive to someone other than himself?

Whatever. If he thought about that train of thought for more than, like, ten seconds, he’d lose his hard-on and probably start crying into the receiver and spilling all of his life’s worst moments. He really couldn’t imagine anything more pathetic than that. 

So he thought about something else. 

He thought about how he’d lay you down on a beach towel, warmed in the sun, cradled by plush grass beneath it. He’d feel awkward about shucking off his swim trunks— he always hated undressing because it felt so awkward. But you’d look at him like he was the most attractive guy in the whole world. 

He was a sap, what could he say? He would hold your hand too, squeezing it with his as he lined up with your entrance. You’d be so wet that it felt slick and he’d feel proud just knowing he did that to you.

When he finally pushed into you, your eyes would be locked on his, warm with emotion, like the entire world just melted away. And how could he not kiss you? When everything felt so good and your legs were wrapped around his waist and each breath was punctuated by soft, desperate sounds? 

It would feel special. With your foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air. He just wants to be as close to you as possible— needs to feel every inch of your skin, sweaty and sun-warmed, against his. He’d just… bury himself deep inside of you and grind into you. It felt more intimate that way.

He could feel himself getting close. A furrow formed between his brows as he chased his high. Moans broke up his words as he brought himself closer and closer. 

“I’d— fuck— I’d rub your clit. Make you cum before I got there. It’d feel so— so fucking good too. It always feels so good. Oh god. Fuck, I’m close.”

“Go ahead, baby. I want to hear you.”

His entire body shuddered as he came, spilling messily onto his belly and chest. It felt like it lasted forever— that warm, perfect feeling of reaching his peak. He was panting as he came down, stroking himself until overstimulation made him whimper. 

“Fuck… maybe I should pay you for that,” you said after a beat. “Did it feel good, Steve?  Feel a little less lonely?”

“Mhmm,” he replied. He was spent— already feeling languid and heavy. “That was… Really perfect.”

“I’m glad.” You paused again,  and he spent that time trying to catch his breath. “I’m on every night around this time. Like, from around ten to two. I’d like to hear more of your fantasies, maybe even act one out with you, if you’d want that?”

His heart hammered, and he felt incredibly stupid as a blush crept up his neck and cheeks. “Yeah, I’ll call you again soon.”

When you said your good nights, he laid back against his pillows. The dial tone played over the speakers as he stared up at his ceiling, spend cooling on his tummy. Leave it to King Steve to fall for someone he had to pay to talk to.

Your eyelids drooped as you manned the checkout counter at Waldenbooks, one of few stores at the mall that could actually be found vacant during a busy summer day. Last night had been a late one— it didn’t help that you couldn’t stop thinking about Steve, your mystery caller. 

It felt stupid to get hung up on the type of guy who had to call a hotline to get his rocks off, especially when you knew precious little about him. You had his name, his general location, that he had a pool, and he had a nice voice. 

Your bangs lifted as you blew a puff of air out the side of your lips, slowly going insane to the sound of Muzak playing softly through the speakers. 

Steve… Did you know any Steve’s? Steve Crandall got into a motorcycle wreck the year after graduation and died. Then there was Steve Odell who moved off to California on some crazy tech idea he swore was going to change the world. Steven Ferris? He seemed like the type, but there was no way he owned a pool since you were pretty sure he lived in the basement of some old couple’s house. That wiped out your graduating class, at least. 

From your perspective on the second floor, you had a perfect view of the fine piece of ass working the ice cream parlor. He was cute— definitely younger than you by a couple of years— and the stupid costume they had him in surprisingly did it for you. You could watch him mop up spilled sorbet all day and it’d be jerk-off material for the next week. 

  He had nice biceps. And thighs. Fucking hell, the things you’d do to get between those and —

“New releases?” You snap your gaze to the other side of the counter, where a woman with pink lipstick on her teeth looks at you impatiently. 

You plastered on a winning smile and pointed a manicured finger to the other side of the store. “That big shelf on the left-hand wall over there,” you said with saccharine sweetness. “Anything else that I can help you with, ma’am?” 

She frowned and you fought a grin. There was nothing that women pushing forty hated more than being called ma’am. You might as well have been telling them they had a foot in the grave. 

The day passed by with minimal hiccups. You convinced someone to buy your favorite book, so that was a win. And you’d gotten to restock the fun pencils. You clocked out and shrugged off the vest you wore on top of your normal clothes and took your hair down from its ponytail to hang loose on your shoulders. Your perm was kind of killing you. It never sat just how you wanted, almost like it had a mind of its own. 

You made your way out of the mall with a brief glance towards Scoops Ahoy, which was notably missing the hot guy you’d been lusting after since your first day on the job. With a dejected sigh, you escaped the crowded, piercingly loud mall and stepped into the hot summer air. 

Most people (or, more accurately, children) were heading for the busses that would shuttle people back into the town square or their respective neighborhoods, but your car waited for you in the exclusive Employees Only lot in the shade. As you turned to head that way, you bumped straight into a tall, firm figure. 

Huh, you thought. He smells like hot fudge and maraschino cherries. I like those things.

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “I thought you were headed for the bus like everyone else.”

You looked up, squinting against the sun, and felt heat flood your cheeks when you realized that it was the hot ice cream scooper. “Oh, it’s, uh—“ you stammered nervously. It was never as easy as the phone line. “I was too.” You wanted to hit yourself. What the hell were you even talking about?

His brows furrowed. “You were what?“

Fuck. “I… uh— don’t know,” you finally said, ready for the conversation to end forever. “I’ll see you around.” And you were gone. You almost missed him calling after you.

You will?

But you pretended you’d never heard it. 

——

Steve called at midnight, just as you brewed your second cup of coffee of the night. You took a quick sip as the call was directed your way, already feeling much more awake in anticipation of what lay ahead. 

“Hey, Steve,” you greeted, adjusting your voice to that casual, sexy cadence that you had perfected. “I was thinking about you all day today.”

Steve responded with a dismissive psh. “I’m going to pretend that’s true, because I was thinking of you too,” he said, and you could hear his grin. “I kept screwing up at work because I’d get distracted thinking about you.”

You felt heat creep into your cheeks. “Baby, you’ll make me blush.” You paused, chewing on your lip briefly. “So… what’s in the cards for tonight, Steve? What do you want to do with me?”

He paused so long that you almost thought the call had dropped, but eventually he worked up the nerve to continue. “Well, you heard my fantasy last time. This time I want to hear yours.”

You snorted a laugh. “Steve, baby, that’s so incredibly sweet, but you could hate it, or think it’s boring, and then I’ll feel guilty for wasting your money.”

“I won’t,” he insisted. “C’mon, it’ll help us get to know each other better.”

You exhaled slowly through your nose, your tummy already fluttering with thoughts of the hot sailor shelling out dollar ice cream cones with extra sprinkles on top. 

Fuck. 

“Alright, but if you hate it, you’ve gotta promise me that you’ll tell me to shut up and we’ll do something else.” He hummed in affirmation and you laid back against your pillows, sighing as you closed your eyes and fell into your newfound, perfect little fantasy. 

“So… when I’m not doing sexy phone calls, I work a menial job,” you begin. “And normally, I’d be, like, wearing an ugly polo or vest or something with our logo on it, but for the sake of sexiness, let’s say that I’m wearing a cute little dress and my hair looks, like, perfect.”

“What does your hair look like normally?” Steve asked, hung up on the one detail that was specifically for your sake. God, you wanted to burn your local salon to the ground. 

“Uh,” you paused, wondering if you should tell the truth. “So I told my hairstylist to go for Kelly LeBrock and she… you know… tried. It looks so cute sometimes, and then other times it has a total mind of its own.”

“Oh, Kelly LeBrock! She’s such a babe. I saw the trailer for that movie she’s gonna be in. Total fox. Great hair.”

You tried to fight a smile, but couldn’t. “Do you wanna talk hair routines, or do you want me to keep going?”

Steve paused like he was genuinely considering it. “We’ll come back to the hair. I could probably help you figure it out, you know. I’ve got great hair.”

You smirked. “Oh, yeah? Where?”

“Use your imagination.”

You grinned. Oh, I am.

You were stocking shelves, as usual— except this time you couldn’t reach the top shelf. Standing on your tiptoes, the hemline of your skirt inching up and up and up. And suddenly there was a presence behind you, reaching up to stock the shelf for you. He smelled really nice, felt warm pressed up against your back.

“Am I the handsome stranger in this scenario?”

You said yes, even though you were mostly thinking about your mystery sailor from the mall. God, even the stupid uniform did it for you. Maybe it was the short shorts.

In the fantasy, the two of you didn’t even talk— really, your fantasies were typically pretty straight to the point, unlike Steve’s. The plot and dialogue would get skipped, and then suddenly, your back was pressed against the ridges of the shelves and the handsome stranger was on his knees in front of you, kissing sloppily up your thighs. 

Usually, you’d have some sense of control— keep your hands above the belt. It was better for you that way. It gave you a sense of separation from what was real and what was happening on the phone. And, really, you never really had a particular need to touch yourself while you were handling the calls anyway. 

And yet… Your hand slipped past the elastic hand of your panties, between your thighs where you were already wet and needy from just your own imagination. You gasped into the phone, bucking your hips into your own touch. 

Steve made a choked sound, crackly through the phone’s speakers. He knew exactly what you were doing. 

“Getting all worked up thinking about it, huh?” He asked, and you could hear a slight rustling and movement as he got himself undressed. It was honestly puzzling that it took that long, or that he didn’t call already ready to go. “Sound so pretty.”

You weren’t even aware that you were making a significant amount of noise, but Steve had keyed into it easily, hanging onto every sigh and whimper. 

In your fantasy, his mouth was absolutely fucking sinful. He would moan against your cunt, nuzzling against your clit with his nose as he lapped up your slick. It was sloppy, and the sounds he made could have made the devil himself blush a burning red. His chin and mouth would drip with the combination of your juices and his spit— his fingernails leaving crescents in your thighs from where he held you tight. 

When he looked up at you from between your thighs, his gaze would be equal parts hungry and sweet. He wanted it to feel good for you because the more you get off, the better it felt for him too. When he felt you getting closer and closer, he moved his fingertip to your entrance, teasing you with featherlight grazes that gathered your essence. He pressed in, just to his first knuckle, and relished in the way you would clench around him at the smallest intrusion before he gave it to you entirely.

Despite the shitty quality of the phone, which was probably your fault, since you had owned it since at least ‘78, you could hear the slick sounds of him stroking himself to your words. And, for once, you relished in that noise across the line. 

You pushed a finger inside of yourself, then a second. Most guys you’d been with got that far then jammed them in and out at a wrist-killing speed until you faked it. Your thing was always just keeping them still, pressing against the sweet spot just barely a few inches inside. Paired with the dizzying pleasure of attention to your clit, the sensation was electric and all-consuming. 

It felt too good to stop, and yet you knew you needed to make it through your fantasy before you came and that precious euphoria rushed over you. Because after the euphoria came that strange sense of disgust, and you couldn’t really afford to spend the rest of the call grossed out by what you were doing. 

“Fuck, anyways,” you began, your breath coming in short pants. “He— you— would take off your shorts.” Stupid, tiny, tight shorts. “And, fuck, you’d already be so hard and needy. You just wanted me so bad. You would press me against the shelf and when you push into me it’d be so easy and slick and I’d feel so full.”

Your cunt pulsed around your fingers, so close to the edge that you could almost swear you were already over it. The precipice was so nice you almost didn’t mind waiting for it. You would hear Steve fucking his hand, pretty moans and grunts passing his lips as he brought himself closer. It wasn’t really fair to leave either one of you hanging much longer. 

“You’d kiss me. And it would be a little messy, but we wouldn’t care. You’d taste good, and you’d feel good. Fuck, Steve. I need to cum so bad.”

He panted into the phone and you practically mewled. God, he sounded so much better than the gross old men you usually had to deal with. “Fuck, I’m right here with you,” he managed, his voice breathy and desperate. “Let me hear you.”

Your ears rang as you came, making the world go a bit fuzzy. Distantly, you could hear how pretty Steve sounded as he came. Honestly, you’d never been one to relish in that type of thing— most guys you’d hooked up with kind of grossed you out. But, god, you’d give anything to watch him get off. Your chest heaved, rising and falling with a shiny sheen of sweat.

“So…” Steve began, sounding a little more languid and a lot more blissed out. There was a sweet, carefree quality to his voice. “Your fantasy is having sex at work?”

You rolled your eyes and fought a grin. “Hey, I didn’t judge your hot, sweaty poolside fuck session.”

”That was about making love,” He insisted. Your heart stuttered a bit. You had to admit that was sweet. “And I’m not knocking your fantasy— I just can’t even imagine someone wanting to have sex with me in my uniform.”

You grinned. “Aw, you have a uniform? I bet you look really sexy in it.”

He huffed, an annoyed groan escaping his lips. “No, I hate my uniform and I’m counting the days until I can rip it off and throw it in, like, a bonfire.”

“I can help with the ripping it off part, y’know,” you teased. 

“No,” he said firmly. “No, we’re not going there, because, one, I came so much I can’t even think about getting hard again or my dick will hurt, and two, if I start having workplace fantasies about you and my uniform I’ll get hard on the job and end up on a registry somewhere.”

“Alright, alright,” you said with a laugh. “I had fun tonight, Steve. I, uh, don’t really get a lot of people asking what I like. I don’t get anyone asking what I like, actually.”

“Well, what can I say? I’m just a pleaser, I guess.” 

He said his goodnights just before hanging up, promising to call again soon. You didn’t have a clear idea of when soon was. You’d had long-term customers promise a call soon that just dropped off the face of the earth. You laid there listening to the dial tone until it started to hurt your ears, then put the phone back on the receiver.

The bed creaked on its ancient springs as you got up, padding out into the hallway. Outside the big window at the end of the hall, you saw a lamp switch off across the street, making the house go dark. It felt a little comforting to know that boring old Hawkins was awake just like you were. 

In the bathroom, you washed your hands with cotton candy-scented soap and tugged at your misbehaving curls. Maybe you would take up Steve on his hair tips. Before you could think about Steve any longer, your phone rang again. And though part of you wished it would be Steve, you knew that there was such a thing as too soon to be ‘soon.’

There wasn’t really a point in pouting. It was decent money. You answered the phone, put on your fake voice, and got to work. 

Steve called nearly nightly for the next month. If having a backyard school wasn’t proof enough he was loaded, his ability to pay your rates nightly sealed the deal. 

It wasn’t always sexual. Well, to be fair, it was mostly sexual. No matter how much you looked forward to phone sex with Steve, you enjoyed talking to him just as much. You learned about his childhood dog, Walter, and his allegedly prodigy-like swimming skills. He was CPR certified, could say his ABCs in French (and nothing else), and loved the colors red, yellow, and blue.

You told him what you could without giving too much away. That Jenny, obviously, wasn’t your real name. Your favorite color, favorite book, favorite flower. You told him that you were in college, going back in the fall. That you only started doing this gig because textbooks were expensive and you wanted to be able to feed yourself while at school. 

Without meaning to, you started to care about Steve. It was probably stupid, and definitely against everything you thought you stood for. But somehow, he managed to squeeze into the recesses of your brain and set up camp there. Try as you might, you couldn’t get him out of your mind. 

“Alright, little Stevie, that’s your fifth wistful sigh of the day,” Robin said, marking a tally on her palm. It struck him as weird that she was counting, but it wasn’t exactly anything new. “You’ve gotta stop or I might actually start feeling bad for you.”

His chin rested in his hand, and he looked over at her with wide puppy dog eyes. “Can you love someone you’ve never met?”

Robin shrugged. “I dunno. Probably not, why?”

He sighed again, his shoulders sagging. “What if my dream girl isn’t exactly accessible? Like… she’s impossible to find and might not even live in Hawkins. She might live in, like, Indianapolis.”

Robin’s expression— the slight squint of her eyes and downturn to her lips— told him she didn’t particularly care. But the store was dead on a boring Tuesday, so digging into Steve’s life was about the only interesting thing to do on the job. 

“That sucks,” she said slowly. “How do you know this mystery soulmate?”

Steve blanched, picking at his nails as he tried to consider a reasonable excuse. “Uh… Blind setup. Very blind setup.” Robin raised an eyebrow. “I only know her number, nothing else.”

“Name?” Steve shook his head glumly. “Damn. But you think you love this girl?” Steve nodded again, but felt a little dumb. He never did things in half-measures. Never felt things that way either, so it made sense to him, but maybe it was a little crazy. 

He just couldn’t stop thinking about you. He wanted to help you with your bad perm and give you advice about how to take care of it. He wanted to surprise you at your boring job with lunch and flowers. It had been a long time since he’d been this excited about someone. 

A tinny beeping sound made him jolt, nearly slipping on the freshly mopped floor. Finally. He didn’t hesitate to tear off his work shirt, leaving him in the shorts and the white tee shirt he kept beneath it for this very reason— not having to walk out in public in full uniform.

He offered a quick bye to Robin and clocked out as quickly as he could. It had been only a week since Jenny had told him her favorite book, and he’d been saving up tips to pay for a copy at Waldenbooks. 

There was a girl behind the counter with a messy ponytail that had half-fallen-out, music blaring from her headphones. It must’ve been a mixtape because it went from some Hall and Oates song to an older Queen one. A little disjointed, but not in bad taste. She was completely immersed in the novel in her hand, so much so that she didn’t notice his presence.

“Excuse me?” He asked, putting on a winning smile. 

“What?” The girl in front of him blinked in surprise and tugged the headphones down around her neck. The music continued— saxophone and a dance beat. Staying Power. He liked that one. Once she’d paused it abruptly, she looked at him again, and he saw a glint of something in her eyes, like she recognized him.

“I’m looking for this book—“ He withdrew a piece of paper from his pocket, where he had scribbled the title down as Jenny told him about it. “Do you know if it’s in stock?”

She looked at the note, then chewed on her lip anxiously. “Mhmm.” She watched him again, like she was expecting something. It took a moment, but it clicked. 

She’s the girl who bumped into him outside a month ago and said weird stuff! “Oh! You were right, I guess. About seeing me around.” He squinted, reading her name tag aloud. 

“Hm?” She blinked a few times, like she was taken out of a daydream. “Oh. Yeah, sorry about all of that. I just had a long day and my brain was fried.”

He nodded. “I get that,” he replied. “Next thing I know I’ll wake up from scooping ice cream in my sleep.” She laughed at that, a smile splitting across her features. “I’m Steve, by the way.”

Her expression faltered, just the tiniest bit. Almost enough that he wouldn’t notice, especially since she corrected it just as quickly. “I’ll go grab that book for you, ‘Kay? Just… stay here.”

She disappeared into the shelves, leaving him standing awkwardly at the counter. The store was oddly empty— he would’ve at least expected some nerdy kids like Dustin to be rooting around. When she returned, she seemed more nervous than before.

“Here, just take it—“ She said, shoving a beat-up-looking copy at him. His brows furrowed as he looked down at the copy in his hands. The cover was bent and torn in places. Corners of pages were dog eared, sticky note tabs stuck out from pages, and he could see glimpses of pen and highlighter. Noticing his confusion, she elaborated. “We’re out, but I had an old copy in my bag. I’ve already read it, so you can borrow it.”

He furrowed his brows. “Is that, like… allowed?”

“Probably!” She said with a startling lack of confidence. She swallowed, giving him an awkward smile. “Just bring it back when you’re done.”

He hesitated. “Uh… okay. Thanks.” He turned to walk away when she called out after him. 

 “Bye, Steve.” 

He wondered why that sounded so familiar. 

Fuck. 

“I mean… what are the odds?” You spoke aloud as you paced your room. When your reflection caught your attention, you felt, and looked, like a madwoman. “It’s not him. It’s not him, and I’m not going to worry about it.”

Five minutes later, you sat up in bed, unable to focus on the book you were reading. It was going to keep bothering you unless you did at least a little digging. But, Jesus, where did you even start with something like this?

“Hey, Rhonda?” You called, popping your head out of your room. “Do you remember any hot underclassmen named Steve from high school?”

Rhonda Finley was the prettiest girl from the class of ‘83. And it wasn’t an exaggeration either, seeing as she was voted Most Beautiful and Miss Hawkins within the same school year. The fact that you were even friends felt like a strange coincidence, but there you both were regardless. 

She carried all of her yearbooks into your room, settling onto the fluffy rug beside your bed. 

“You said his name is Steve?” She asked from her spot on the floor. She flipped through the old yearbook with reverence— pausing to look at photos of herself on other pages. “Steve… stevestevesteve. What about Stephen Cranston? He did the morning announcements, he was decent.”

You glanced at his picture briefly and shook your head. “No, not him,” you replied. “He’s cuter. Uh… boyish is a good word to describe him. Sharp nose and warm eyes.”

Rhonda snorted, flipping another page. “Okay, Shakespeare.” 

You chewed on your lip, watching her tab through until you made a squeak of recognition. The faintest glimpse of a younger Steve in a picture of a home economics class. “Ronnie, flip back,” you said, tapping her shoulder insistently. She did as you said and you pointed. “That’s him. Younger, but it’s him.”

She squinted, reading the small caption. “Sophomore Steve Harrington cooks up trouble in Mrs. Destefano’s Home Ec class!’” She laughed and flipped until she found the sophomore class portraits. “Yep. Steven Harrington.”

You sat back on your heels. “Huh.”

She closed the yearbook and glanced back at you. “I think I went to a pool party of his once,” Ronnie said, brows furrowed as she tried to find the memory. “He was friends with that freckle-y kid that my asshole ex was friends with. God, that was the night when we got into that screaming match and we broke up for like a month before he was begging for another chance.”

Pool party? You felt a knot in your stomach that you weren’t even sure you could have untangled at that point. Was it even possible that your mystery cute phone guy was the unbelievably attractive ice cream scooper at the mall?

No chance. You weren’t that lucky. And yet… maybe a seed of hope took root in your chest. And maybe… maybe you could get him to spill enough details to prove it. 

——

Steve called you around midnight. Your heart leapt into your throat as you answered, thrumming and threatening to burst from nerves. 

“Hey.” His voice was soft, a little tired. “I, uh, thought about you today.”

You could picture him so clearly— his soft hair, long legs, boyish charm. “Hope I wasn’t too distracting. Were you working today? What do you do?” You dug a little deeper with the question, trying to suss out any information you could. 

“Yeah,” he replied with a sigh. “I work in food service at a mall I live near. It’s nothing to write home about, I guess, but it’s temporary until I start applying for the spring semester.”

Okay, so there’s no doubt about it anymore. It was Steve Harrington, the hot ice cream scooper in the sailor suit, who was calling your line every night. The same Steve Harrington who you’d bumped into twice after your shift. 

You tried to push that aside and focus on the reason for the call. 

“So I was a welcome distraction, then?”

He laughed. “I can’t imagine a world where you aren’t.” He paused. “Did you, uh… think about me?”

The hope in his voice made your heart swell. “Of course I thought about you, baby. You’re my favorite caller.” You paused, debating your next move. “I’ve been thinking about getting you all needy and desperate for me all day. About hearing your pretty sounds.”

He fucking whimpered. “I’ve spent the entire night hard just waiting to call you.” You could hear him shuffle around on the other end of the call, presumably stripping off his remaining layers. “Didn’t want to be too desperate and call too fast.”

“Poor baby,” you cooed. “Can you do something for me? It’ll feel so good, I promise.”

“Mhmm.”

“Grab a pillow and lay on your stomach for me,” you instructed. Without hesitation, you could hear the staticky sound of movement on his end as he shifted. “This might sound weird, but—“

“You want me to… to like—“ he stammered nervously. “Hump it?”

You blanched, wondering if your perverse fantasies of the hot mall guy getting off had perhaps pushed him a bit too far. “I mean…. Only if you’re into it. We can do something else.”

“No,” he said quickly. “No, I’ve… I mean— I’ve done it before.”

Oh. Butterflies buzzed around your tummy as you let yourself indulge in the mental image. “Yeah? Did it feel good?”

“Mhmm,” he hummed. You could hear rustling on the phone, like he was trying to situate himself comfortably. “Just made a mess is all.”

Fucking hell. “You gonna make a mess for me tonight, then?” You asked, twirling the phone cord around your finger. He moaned in response, and you grinned. “Aw, did you already get started, sweetheart?”

He moaned out a confirmation and you grinned, letting your free hand trail down your belly and beneath the waistband of your panties. “You already sound so pretty, Steve. So good for me, doing exactly what I say.”

The breathy sounds of his pants and moans made slickness gather between your thighs. Sounded like he hadn’t been lying about being hard and desperate all night just anticipating the call. “We’re not gonna talk tonight, we’re just gonna listen to each other,” you told him. 

Maybe it was unfair to him that you had the perfect mental image of him in your head since you already knew what he looked like. You relished in that knowledge as you coated your fingers in your wetness and rubbed small circles around your clit. 

Steve was loud, which made you wonder if his neighbors hated him. If you had to live next door to Steve Harrington and his pornstar moans, you’d probably go crazy. You were going crazy just from being on the other end of the phone. You were louder than usual too— it was a miracle that Rhonda worked nights.

It wasn’t long before you both finished— gasping and moaning into the phone’s receiver. You sighed as you laid back against your pillows, completely sated and content as you listened to Steve’s shaky breaths. 

“How’re you feeling?” You asked, fighting the desire to twirl your hair around your fingers. 

“Good,” he said finally. “Gonna have to do laundry, wash my sheets. I probably needed to anyway.” He paused. “I picked up a copy of that book you were talking about. It’s actually funny, ‘cause they were out of copies apparently, but the girl behind the counter let me have hers. Like it was meant to be, or something.”

Your heart hammered. “That’s really sweet, Steve,” you said softly. “I’m sorry in advance if you hate it.”

“I won’t!” He insisted. “I read the first couple of pages while I waited to call. I’m not the best reader, though. Might take me a while to finish it, but I do like it so far.”

You were partially convinced that you were in love with Steve Harrington, despite the fact that he wouldn’t even recognize you on the street. “This might be… I mean, maybe it’s crossing a line, and I could totally get fired for even suggesting… but—“ You hesitated. Fuck it. “I want to give you my personal line. So you don’t have to pay to talk to me. It’s not fair if we’re both enjoying the conversations but only one of us is paying, you know?”

He was quiet, almost too quiet. Nerves stirred in your belly. “Is that… you know, okay?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” he said quickly. “Let me just grab a pen.”

You couldn’t help but stare longingly down into the atrium of the mall, where Steve Harrington was sweeping crumbs off of one of the booths inside Scoops Ahoy.

“Hello?” A kid snapped his fingers a few times and you swallowed down your annoyance as you turned. “We called earlier about Ender’s Game. The guy on the phone said he’d hold three copies. It’s under Mike.”

You glanced behind you, where the books clearly weren’t. Fuck Greg for making your menial job even worse. “It must’ve slipped his mind. I can grab those for you.” The kid made a bitchy face as you stepped away from the counter and you bit your tongue to keep from saying something rude. Fucking latchkey kids.

When you returned with three copies of the book, you looked at the kids skeptically. “By the way, if you stole any of the pencils or bookmarks, my boss is going to take it out of my paycheck and I won’t be able to feed my kids.”

“It costs thirty cents to feed your kids?”

You sighed and rang them up, but they continued to loiter in the shelves while you pretended to be busy. 

“There’s nothing to do,” one of them said after picking up a copy of Sports Illustrated briefly. “We should just go back to my house and play Atari.”

A red-haired girl rolled her eyes. “Lucas, we’re not playing Pong again.” She paused and glanced down towards the food court. “We could go see Steve.”

It took all your willpower not to react. 

“Why do you always want to go see Steve?” Lucas asked. “It’s not like you have a boyfriend or anything.”

“She just wants to see him because she’s got some weird crush on him,” the bitchy one said. Mike? The red-haired girl blushed nearly as fiery as her hair and shoved Mike hard. “What? We all know it. You and El are always drooling over him. It’s weird.”

“He’s nice, okay? Way nicer than you are, asshole.” She shoved past the group and left on her own, leaving the other two guys to scramble after her. One kid was left behind, the one with the unfortunate bowl cut. He offered a wave before he followed after them. 

When they got downstairs, you watched him greet the redhead with a smile and a ruffle of her hair. Lucas and the bowl-cut kid got a slap on the back, and the bitchy one got a half-smile that wasn’t returned. 

Then he shelled out free ice cream, which was evident because none of them made a move to pay. 

After they left, you watched him reach into his own wallet and cover the cost, placing the bills carefully into the cash register. 

The rest of your shift was spent fawning over Steve and flipping through issues of the magazines you had on display. You felt idiotic gazing at Steve Harrington with puppy dog eyes while reading Top Ten Ways to Know if He’s Really Into You! Of course he wasn’t into you— he didn’t even know who you were, not really. 

Around two in the afternoon, you were snapped out of your reverie by the sight of Steve walking through the threshold of the shop, looking around the shop before his gaze settled on you and lit up in recognition. 

“Hi!” He said, nearly knocking over a carefully displayed unofficial biography of Reagan on his way over. You smiled, straightening your posture as he approached. “I wanted to thank you for the book.”

Your heart thumped. “Oh, you don’t need to thank me,” you insisted. “I just wanted to help.”

He reached into the pocket of his uniform and pulled out two coupons to Scoops Ahoy with a flourish. They advertised free ice cream in the nautical scrawl. “Does this change your mind?” He raised his brows and smiled smugly. 

You rolled your eyes and grabbed them, reading the fine print. Valid only at the Starcourt Mall location on weekdays between 8am and 11am. Offer not valid in conjunction with any other deals. Offer excludes banana splits, sundaes, and the U.S.S. Butterscotch.

“Maybe,” you replied. “Is free ice cream your thing or something? I saw you give that group of kids free sundaes earlier.”

He furrowed his brows, considering it, then grinned. “Are you watching me?”

Fuck. You spluttered, shaking your head as you fumbled through a response. “No. They were here first, then talked about going to see you, and then I just…” He laughed and leaned over the desk slightly, as if testing the view. 

“Oh, yeah. Perfect view from here.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the heat burning in your cheeks. “So you come here to thank me with shitty coupons, and then you accuse me of spying on you?”

He shook his head as he leaned back. “Hey, it’s not accusing you if it’s true.” He was so smug. “Anyway, I’ll get out of your hair. See you around?” He looked at you expectantly until you nodded, face burning hot. He smiled, shoved his hands into his pockets, and walked out casually like he hadn’t just totally caught you creeping on him. 

God, you were going to make him pay for that later. 

——

Steve paced around his room as he tried to gain the courage to call you. He would have liked to say that he needed to get your number from his Rolodex, but he’d memorized it nearly the moment he put it down on paper. 

He was thinking of you, but he was also thinking about the girl from the mall who seemed to keep popping up. There was something about her, the way he was drawn to her, the way she spoke, the way she looked at him. It was all so familiar and easy, like they’d known each other forever. 

He didn’t know how to feel about that. 

Finally, he settled on his bed, dressed only in a thin white tank top and boxers that were a size too big since he stopped working out as much. With nerves buzzing in his ears, he dialed your number and waited. 

And waited. And waited. He swallowed hard, wondering if you’d given him a fake number just to be rid of him. The number went to the answering machine, and his mouth went dry. 

“Hi! You’ve reached Y/N Y/L/N. I’m out right now, but leave your name and number at the beep and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can!” A beep sounded and Steve hung up suddenly. His stomach sank. 

He wasn’t supposed to know your real name like that. It felt like some gross intrusion. And yet, he repeated it over and over again in his mind. Why did it seem so familiar?

On his nightstand, the beat up paperback he had borrowed stood out like a sore thumb. Oh. The book, the same book you, Jenny, had told him about. And the girl who worked there… Y/N. 

It was too much, far too much to be a coincidence. He grabbed the book and opened it to look at the inside cover, where your name, Jenny’s name was scrawled inside. Because you and Jenny were the same person. 

Every single conversation leading up to that point played over in his mind. The messy perm, the shitty job with the ugly polo, the fantasy about being pushed against the shelves and fucked. Oh, God. And you were totally spying on him. 

It should’ve been an absolute win for him, but his stomach turned as he glanced over at the phone on the receiver. You were gorgeous and funny and smart and so sexy. Why would you want to be with someone who needed to call a sex hotline?

He could just picture the look on your face when you discovered that the guy who worked in the stupid uniform at Scoops was so pathetic that he needed to call someone to get attention. 

He swallowed hard, guilt and doubt settling icy in his stomach. He put the book down, and didn’t call back.

——

Steve was sulking during his shift. Probably biting the heads off of a few too many kids who asked for a few too many samples. 

“Jesus, how many times do you need to try cotton candy?” He snapped as he dug out a tiny spoonful of the pink and blue ice cream. The kid furrowed his brows up at him, puzzled by the sudden outburst. 

“Uh, can I try Cherries Jubilee next?” He asked hesitantly. 

Steve exhaled slowly through his nose. “No, you’re done. Out.”

The kid rolled his eyes, swore under his breath, and stomped out of Scoops Ahoy. 

Robin was staring at him funny when he turned around, a mix of curiosity and amusement. “You’re totally PMSing today.”

He couldn’t manage more than a scowl in response. “Shut up.”

Robin laughed and tossed a cherry at him, which he managed to catch before it splattered against the glass of the ice cream case. He hated maraschino cherries— the artificial sweetness and unnatural color. But, hey, he could tie a cherry stem into a knot with his tongue.

He hadn’t called you for three days, which felt like the longest stretch of time in his life. And he hadn’t even seen you around Starcourt, which was both a good thing and absolutely unbearable. 

Part of him wanted to just jump on the escalator and see if you were sitting behind the counter at Waldenbooks, but he knew it was better to just have a clean break. Maybe in a few months, you’d forget about that Steve guy who’d called you and he could make his move then.

The shift change hit around lunchtime, and Steve prepared for the influx of people who were getting off work on empty stomachs. As he suspected, the line stretched out the door and he was practically up to his elbows in ice cream, mindlessly scooping flavor combinations that should’ve been illegal. Until—

“Hey, Steve,” you said, standing in front of him in your ugly work polo with messy hair half-fallen out of your ponytail. “Staying busy?”

He stammered nervously and mumbled out an unintelligible response. “Ice cream?” Was all that he could manage to ask, which made him want to throw himself into the fountain right in the middle of the food court. 

But you just smiled. “A shake, actually. Chocolate banana if that’s possible.” He nodded and got to work, thankful for the distraction. Your eyes followed his every movement as he made your shake, but he couldn’t let himself look at you.

Because if he did really look at you, all he’d be able to think about were the phone calls you’d had— the calls where he’d heard you cum with breathy gasps and pants and soft whimpers. And— Jesus Christ— he was thinking about it and it made him feel dizzy. 

He used a little bit too much whipped cream and put rainbow sprinkles on top for God knows why, but he handed it to you with a weak smile. 

“Three bucks, right?” You asked, nodding to the menu.

“Uh, you can just have it,” he said without even thinking. “On the house.”

You furrowed your brows for a moment,  but smiled brightly. “Really? Thanks, Steve. I appreciate it.” You took a sip and gave a soft moan at the flavor that made a full-body chill run through him. “See you around?”

“Yeah. See you.” You gave a small wave before you disappeared into the food court. He watched you the whole way, like you were the only person in the room.

Fuck. He was hard. Like, rock hard and the stupid apron on the uniform only made it more obvious. He’d fucking pavloved himself to get turned on just by your voice. 

“Robin, I’m taking my fifteen,” he said, darting into the back before she could protest. He stepped inside the walk-in freezer and propped the door with a crate of waffle cones. After about five minutes, he felt like he could actually think again.

“Fuck,” He muttered under his breath. He had to call you again.

You were sincerely considering quitting the hotline. After Steve, just listening to the other guys panting and blowing their loads on the phone was nauseating. They didn’t care to learn more about you, not the way he did. They just wanted to get their rocks off to an anonymous, sexy voice. 

Then again, Steve had disappeared too. Maybe giving him your real number had crossed a line. Maybe it freaked him out that you were taking it beyond a transaction. You sighed and wrapped yourself tighter in your house coat. Rhonda always kept the AC on overdrive in the summer, which meant you needed at least two blankets to be comfortable. 

When the phone rang, you picked it up without thinking, half expecting it to be Rhonda calling you to check in during her break. 

“Hey,” you said absentmindedly, leaning back against your pillows. 

“This is, uh— this is the right number, right? It’s Steve.”

Your heart nearly burst out of your chest at the sound of his voice. “Hey, yeah, it’s the right number,” you assured. You wriggled out of your housecoat and tossed it to the side so you could get more comfortable. “How are you? It’s been a few days.”

He sighed. “Yeah, I, uh,” he paused. “I think I psyched myself out of calling you.”

“Oh,” you said softly. “Well, I’m glad you did call. I really missed you.”

“You did?”

You laughed, letting yourself get more comfortable. “Mhmm,” you replied. “I mean, we’ve been talking everyday for a while, you know?”

“I missed you too, couldn’t stop thinking about you, even at work.” You smiled, remembering how absentminded he had seemed when you showed up in the ice cream parlor. And he was thinking about you. Not you, but still you. “I— uh— had to walk into our deep freezer to cool myself off.”

“How long has it been for you?” You asked suddenly. “Like, since you’ve had sex.”

Steve chuckled nervously. “I dunno… two months?” He paused. “Is that lame?”

“Nuh-uh, baby,” you assured. “Think it’s sweet. No wonder you’re all needy all the time. You need a nice, tight, wet pussy to sink into, hm?”

A low moan escaped his lips. “God—“

“Better than your hand, isn’t it?” You teased. “I bet you’re so desperate that you’ve been touching yourself this whole time, even before you called me. Isn’t that right?”

The closest thing you got in response was another pretty moan. “You’re big too, aren’t you?” You mused aloud, not even waiting for a response. “I know you are, you’ve basically told me in not so many words. Most girls can’t handle that, baby. It’s not your fault. That’s okay, we could take it slow, you could get me all nice and stretched for you, take your time like the gentleman you are.”

“Fuck— fuck—“ His words came out choked and desperate. You could almost picture it— the way he’d be fucking up into his hand, needing more and more.

“I bet you always have to take it real slow, huh? Gotta be careful so you don’t hurt someone. But that just means you can feel everything better, doesn’t it? Inch by inch by inch, every flutter and squeeze. And you can see on their faces how good it feels, can’t you? You can watch their eyes roll back and their mouths fall open while they cry out for you. I mean, Jesus, Steve, I bet most girls come before you’re even all the way inside.”

His hand sped up, desperate and needy, just as you’d said. You could hear it with each wet slap of skin against skin. His moans were constant, a stream of yesahgodfuckohshitahyesahfuckfuckfuck— until the prettiest moan escaped his lips, all low and deep, and you knew he’d made a pretty mess of himself. 

“Bet that felt really nice,” you said while he panted on the other end of the line. 

He made a weak noise, then finally managed a, “Uh-huh. Fuck.”

You laughed softly. “That’s gotta be the fastest I’ve gotten you off,” you said finally. “I like having that much power over you. It turns me on so much.”

He groaned. “Fuck, give me five— no— ten minutes. I can barely breathe right now.”

You grinned, relishing in your ability to torture him a bit after he’d teased you at work. Unknowingly, of course, but still. “I dunno if I can wait that long, Steve… I’m so wet that my thighs are all sticky.”

“God, you’re killing me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatics. “Why don’t you lay there and listen to me? Be good and keep your hands off, alright? You already came, so don’t get greedy.”

He made a nearly pained noise. “Fine. Fine.”

A smirk spread across your lips as you let your hand move between your thighs. Really, you weren’t exaggerating that much— you found yourself slick and needy when you finally slid your panties down your thighs. Actually, you thought you’d probably have to be a statue to hear Steve Harrington panting and cumming over the phone and stay unaffected.

You could hear his breath catch with every soft moan and whimper, and maybe you got mean and held the phone near your tummy, so he could hear just how wet and messy you’d gotten as you steadily fucked yourself with your fingers. When you got desperate enough, you held the phone against your ear once more. 

“I dunno, Steve… I don’t think my fingers can cut it,” you said, exaggerating the pouty tone of your voice. “I wish you were here to take care of me.”

He groaned, low and muffled. You had a feeling he’d thrown an arm over his face. “You’re so unfair.”

A smile spread across your lips at his words. “No, baby. What’s unfair is that I’m laying here all alone, feeling so empty and needy, and you’re not here to make it all better.” You reached into your nightstand, pulling out the dildo you’d bought for your twentieth birthday. “‘S okay, I can take care of myself just fine. You ever been to a sex shop?”

It got quiet on the line, and you could nearly hear the gears turning. 

“N-no.”

You raised a brow. “Really? But you know what they sell, don’t you?” You paused until he hummed a soft uh-huh. “It’s only fair that I get to use a toy to fill myself up since you can’t do it for me, right?”

“Y-yeah, wanna hear you do it.”

You grinned. “Patience, baby. Gotta get it wet first so it glides in nice and easy.”

Blowing a rubber dick wasn’t how you’d envisioned ending your day, but— what can you say?— spontaneity is the spice of life. You made sure he heard every wet pass of it between your lips, every exaggerated gag as you took it into your throat, the messy smack of your lips. It tasted like a tire and dish soap, but the desperate, restrained sounds he was making made it all worth it. 

Your eyes were watery when you finally pulled the toy from your mouth, certain you’d adequately worked him up for the time being. Plus, you were worked up just as much, if not more— you wanted to just fuck yourself into oblivion already. 

Instinctively, your thighs fell farther apart as you moved the toy between your legs. You let the tip tease your entrance, only a little, before you began to push it inside. A soft moan fell from your lips as you finally got the nice, full feeling you’d been dreaming of. 

You laid there for a moment, letting your body adjust to it, reveling in it. With your free hand, you slowly circled your clit until your cunt fluttered around the intrusion. 

“Feels so nice,” you sighed, lips brushing against the mouthpiece of the phone. You felt drunk and hazy with desire. “Like I’m so close already that I can taste it.”

“Make yourself come for me,” he practically begged. “Wanna hear it.”

You moaned at his words, but shook your head. “Can’t yet. I wanna make this last.”

Time felt a little hazy as you kept working the toy in and out, slow and deep. Occasionally, you’d brush against your clit just right, or the toy would find a nice spot inside of you, and your entire body would tremble with need. 

Steve’s breath came in pants over the phone, but you couldn’t tell if he had broken and actually started to touch himself. You kind of hoped he did, even if you wouldn’t say it. 

Eventually, you came without warning— the build-up of it all made it impossible to avoid. Once you started over that edge, you couldn’t crawl back even if you’d wanted to. Moans fell from your lips as you succumbed to your orgasm; every nerve was like a live wire. When it finally came to be too much, you slipped the toy out and relaxed onto your bed with a contented sigh. 

“Are you still alive?” You asked, quiet crackling over the phone. 

“Uh… yeah,” he replied, a little distracted. “Have you ever come without having to touch yourself?”

You laughed softly. “Once. I read in Cosmo that some girls can get off just from playing with their tits. Took a while, but I eventually got there. Why?”

“I just, uh… listening to you, all the noises and hearing how wet you were… I guess that was all it took.” He sounded so embarrassed, but it was the cutest fucking thing you’d ever heard. You could imagine it so clearly, his cock pulsing against his twitching stomach, cum making puddles around his navel. 

“That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard,” you said with a smile. “You’re probably exhausted, huh?”

He laughed a bit. “A little, but I can stay up and talk, if you’re free.”

Ever the gentleman, Steve stayed up another hour to talk about whatever you could think of to keep the conversation running. The new collection at The Gap, whether or not he planned to see Back to the Future, his favorite music got him talking for half an hour at least. Finally, you were yawning and beat. 

“Steve, baby, I should go to sleep,” you said, almost apologetically. 

“That’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You froze, brows furrowing. “What?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he repeated, sleepily. “At the mall.”

“Um… night,” you said quickly, panicking slightly as you hung up the phone.

Steve had mopped the same spot on the floor five times during his shift, all while sparing fleeting glances towards Waldenbooks, where you were immersed in a magazine or a book. Always doing anything but looking down at him. 

Which was good… maybe? He couldn’t quite decide.

He hadn’t been thinking when he said that on the phone. But he was sleepy, and his brain was a little foggy, and then he’d gone and doubled down. 

As soon as he hung up the phone, he remembered that he had given his real name, and you knew he worked in food service, and you knew he wore a stupid uniform. That narrowed it down really easily. 

So he spent his shift in a constant state of dread and panic, waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

By the time the mall was closing, he had occupied himself with wiping down tables. He let Robin head home and pulled out his Walkman to keep him company. Since working at Starcourt, he made a pretty sick collection of tapes that wound up in the lost and found. This one was a metal mix, which typically wasn’t his thing, but was growing on him. 

He didn’t realize you were standing over him until you rapped twice on the table, drawing his eyes up, up, up until they were locked with yours. He scrambled to pause the tape and stand up, adjusting his stupid uniform as an embarrassed blush grew on his cheeks. 

“Hi,” you greeted. Your Waldenbooks vest hung loosely on your form, right on top of a pink polo. 

“Hi,” he echoed. It was quiet for a second, as he tried to think of what to say, and as you scrambled for the words you’d been practicing all day. “I’ve known it was you for a while.” The words escaped him before he could stop himself, and then he just stared at you, completely mortified. 

You laughed, covering your face for a moment as heat flooded your cheeks. “You knew? I didn’t even— I mean, I didn’t realize. Because I knew it was you calling. For a while, actually. 

He grinned, leaning forward. “So… the guy you said you wanted to… against the shelves…?” When you ducked your head and looked away, he smiled like the cat who got the cream. “No way. You were totally perving on me, even before!”

“You had to walk into a deep freezer to cool off because you were thinking about me, perv.” He laughed, and you wanted to kiss him so badly it freaked you out a little. “So… What do we do now? I mean, now that you know who I am, and I know who you are, and we’re going to keep running into each other.”

Your poor cuticles were going through the wringer— red and stinging where you picked at them due to nerves. There was nothing you wanted more than for him to just sweep you into his arms like some kind of fairytale and promise his undying devotion. Or just say he wanted to date you. Whichever.

“I could take you on a date,” he said sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck. “I mean, if your type is total pervs who spend most of the week in sailor uniforms.”

Oh, you had plans for that sailor uniform. You stepped forward and planted a kiss on his cheek. “I think you just might be in luck.” He turned his head, just slightly, so he could capture your mouth with his. 

The kiss was sweet, at first. Slow brushes of his lips against yours. They tasted sweet, like he’d been wearing lip smackers or something. Or maybe he’d been sneaking samples of the ice cream. He pulled you closer and you gasped, offering him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You moaned softly at the feeling of your tongue licking against his. 

He picked you up easily, sitting you down on the table he should’ve been cleaning. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your arms around his neck. It was easy to lose yourself in the hungry, desperate way Steve kissed. You could’ve stayed right there in the middle of Scoops making out with him until the mall opened in the morning, and still not have found the motivation to stop. 

A bright light startled you back into reality, shining directly in your faces. You and Steve squinted in the general direction, as Starcourt security stomped your way. 

“Hey! Get the fuck home,” He shouted, with equal amounts of exasperation and annoyance. He clicked off the flashlight and walked away with a huff and an eye roll, leaving you and Steve alone.

Steve’s cheeks were flushed pink with embarrassment as he stepped back, but he still wore a dopey grin on his lips. You hopped off the table and adjusted your skirt with a light laugh. 

“That was nice,” You said as you tucked a loose curl behind your ear. “I should leave you to it, I guess. Before we both end up in mall jail.” 

He shook his head quickly. “No! I mean, you could hang out here until I’m done. I just have a few more tables to clean and chairs to stack, if you want to—” He trailed off, looking at you expectantly. 

A sly grin spread across your features. “What? Are you trying to go home with me or something?” He stammered nervously, that same, cute blush growing on his cheeks. Before he could say anything, you took a step closer and peered up at him. “Because if you are, I might tell you that my roommate works nights at Hawkins General, and we’d have it conveniently all to ourselves.”

He swallowed, then nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I’m trying to do.”

You sat in the booth nearest to the entrance of the parlor, flipping through a magazine you’d grabbed from work. Occasionally, you’d sneak tiny peeks of Steve bent over a table to wipe it down, uniform stretched tight over his ass, and grin behind the pages. 

He got everything locked up in what he claimed was record time, flashing a smile as he closed up shop behind the two of you.

”Do you work tomorrow?” You asked, as casually as possible as the two of you approached your cars in the employee lot. 

“Yep. Afternoon shift,” he explained.

“I’ll drive you. We’ll carpool tonight.”

The car ride was relatively tame, a few stolen glances at stoplights at most. When you brought him inside the house, your phone was ringing off the hook. You apologized and ushered him into your room, where, true enough, the spare phone you used for the hotline was ringing nonstop. 

“Sorry, let me just…” You grabbed the phone and hung it up once, before taking it off the receiver completely. “There. No interruptions.”

Steve grinned, surveying your room carefully. The set of pom-poms from high school on a shelf, a stack of Cosmopolitan magazines, the chair full of your laundry— fuck, you should’ve definitely taken a moment to speed clean before letting him inside. 

“So… what do you say we pick up where we left off?” You stood on your tiptoes and pecked his lips chastely before guiding him towards your bed. As soon as he sat down, you wasted no time in crawling into his lap and kissing him with all of the pent-up frustration of weeks of phone calls. 

You kissed him for so long you’d have to come up panting for air, before diving right back in. His hands— Jesus, you’d never noticed how big his hands were— were splayed out over your hips at first, but had moved down to grab your ass, encouraging each movement as you rocked against him. 

Without breaking the kiss, you shrugged off your work vest, so it fell into a heap over the side of your bed. He pulled back, chest heaving slightly as he caught his breath. His lips were swollen from use and spit-slick. His eyes moved from the vest on the ground, then back to your eyes. A tiny laugh escaped you before you pulled off your top, then your bra. 

“This still okay?” You asked, as you stood briefly and tugged down your denim skirt. The sound of your voice felt almost foreign in the quiet room, while he took in the sight of you in nothing but a pair of panties.

“God, more than okay,” he assured, before pulling you onto his lap for another heated kiss. This kiss was needier— you could feel it in the hungry way he licked into your mouth, and the feel of him hard beneath you. Tiny gasps pushed past your lips as you rocked against him just right. 

He moved his hands from you only to pull off his work shirt, and the white shirt he wore beneath it. Your hands immediately went to his chest, running through the chest hair he’d hidden beneath the uniform. How the fuck did he manage to walk out of his house without being immediately pounced on by every woman in a five-mile radius?

 He placed one final kiss on your lips before pulling back and meeting your gaze. As earnestly as you’d ever, he asked, “Can I go down on you?”

Yes. Fuck, yes. Oh my god, yes. “Sure, if you want to.”

He smiled wide. “Yeah? Just relax for me, alright?” He shifted the two of you, so you were lying on the bed and he was on top of you. He planted a chaste peck on your nose, and you wrinkled it in reaction. 

You kissed him one, fleetingly, before letting him kiss down your chest and tummy. He parted your thighs and carefully positioned himself between them. You met his gaze and felt your stomach somersault. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to the damp fabric of your panties.,

“Fuck,” he mumbled against you. “You’re soaking for me, huh?” And there was that cocky grin you’d seen at the mall before. You had to lie back and put a hand over your eyes, because if you thought about that fucking smug expression for too long, you’d cum untouched. 

He ran his tongue over the fabric of your panties, tasting you through the saturated satin once, twice before he pulled them down your legs. And he fucking moaned like a man starved at the sight of you. 

Heat burned in your cheeks as you felt him spreading you open, and at the slick, wet sounds of your own arousal. “You’re so pretty.” And then his tongue was on you, lapping up your juices, savoring all of you. 

“O-oh, fuck—“ Your moan came out like a sob as his nose brushed against your clit, making your thighs tremble. He moaned against your cunt, nuzzling deeper like he couldn’t get enough. 

In retrospect, he had brought up how much he loved eating pussy a lot on that first call. Your hips bucked slightly, torn between chasing the feeling and overstimulation. His lips would wrap around your clit and suck softly before he would go back to lapping at you, his tongue parting your folds and teasing your entrance. 

“St-Steve!” You cried out, fingers tangling in his hair. The slightest tug on his locks made him moan against you, which made your toes curl. 

Your moans became pitchy and breathless as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. All of your muscles were wound up tight, itching for release. 

All it took was a little bit of eye contact and you were done for. You sobbed out a moan as he lapped up your release— each lap of his tongue sending electricity up your nerves. When he finally relented, you were shaking with aftershocks and giggling. 

“Something funny?” He asked with a grin as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

You sighed and spared a glance over at him. “I’ve been dreaming of that happening since our first call.” He grinned as you pushed him onto his back and straddled his hips. 

“Did it meet your expectations?” He asked, swallowing nervously as you shifted to accommodate your hand between the two of you. His eyes fluttered shut as your hand slipped beneath his work shorts and boxers to grasp his cock in your hand. 

You gave a slow, experimental stroke of your hand and nodded. “Two thumbs up.”

He swallowed hard as you removed your hand to completely undress him, leaving you both completely naked. You spit into your hand and wrapped it back around his length, holding eye contact as you jerked him off.

There was something so surreal about the entire situation— having him beneath you, warm and pulsing and slick in your hand. Each time your thumb brushed along the head of his cock, he cried out with the prettiest moan.

“W-wait—“ he said quickly, a look of panic in his eyes. You stilled your hand as he looked at you, a pretty blush painting his cheeks. “I’m not gonna last.”

You bit your to keep from grinning like an idiot. “That’s okay,” you said with a smile. You reached into your bedside table and retrieved a condom. “Do you want to, uh, go all the way?” 

He nodded quickly. “Yes. Yes, please.”

You tore open the packet and rolled the condom on. “How’s that feel? Alright?” He gave a dorky thumbs up, which made you laugh. You leaned down to kiss him once more and wondered if you’d ever get tired of that feeling. 

You reached between the two of you and guided his tip through your folds, coating it in your arousal until you grew too needy and lined him up with your entrance. It was a stretch, even though he’d gotten you plenty worked up with his mouth. You sank down slowly, one hand splayed against his chest to keep you steady as you took in inch after inch. 

The sounds that escaped him as you lowered yourself onto him were so pornographic you thought he should be the one working the hotline instead. Desperate panting moans slipped past his full lips as his hands clawed at your hips.

“Fuck,” he moaned, eyes half-lidded as he watched you. “That’s it. You can take it.”

The mouth on him. You moaned softly as you finally settled onto his lap and he was fully sheathed within you. You stayed still, letting your body adjust to and relish in how full you felt. 

“You look so pretty right now,” he said, reaching up to brush a messy hair from your face. You laughed softly as your cheeks warmed, and a funny fluttering in your chest nearly stole your breath.

“Says you,” was all you could manage to say back. You were hyper-aware of the feeling of him within you, of each flutter of your walls around him.

You gave an experimental roll of your hips and his head fell back, against the pillows, exposing the column of his throat. You relished in the way he looked beneath you— debauched and needy. 

It was easy and slow at first. Each time you moved, you would lower yourself back down slowly, letting him savor the feeling of you, warm and wet and needy. He groaned each time you settled back on his lap, eyes hooded with lust as he looked up at you.

You gave a lazy smile as you looked down at him, moaning each time his cock brushed against your sweet spot. “Can I go a little faster?”

He nodded, eager for whatever you could give him. Your nails raked against his chest as you began to ride him in earnest, the back of your thighs slapping against his as you bounced on his cock. 

Your head fell back as you rubbed at your clit with your free hand. Soft moans spilled from your lips as you relished in the culmination of all of your fantasies. Because he was there, splayed out beneath you like a fucking pornstar, and you had him all to yourself. 

His fingers dug into the plush of your hips as he began meeting your thrusts halfway, fucking into the heaven between your thighs. 

Your eyes rolled back as he fucked himself deeper and deeper, stealing your breath with each thrust. “Close,” you practically squeaked out. Red marks stood out against the freckles skin of his chest where you searched desperately for purchase. 

Steve’s hair was stuck to his forehead, tacky from exertion. “Need you to cum for me,” he managed between pretty moans. “Wanna feel you cumming around me.”

You whimpered at his words, riding him harder as your orgasm hit like a tidal wave. A fucked-out moan escaped you as you collapsed against his chest, hips weakly stuttering as Steve continued fucking up into you. With your pussy gripping him like a vise, he could only manage a few good thrusts before he came with a groan. 

You laid there on top of him as you caught your breath, wearing a stupid, giddy smile as he traced mindless shapes onto your back. His face was buried in your neck, where he left sweet, wet kisses. After a while, you slid off of him and sighed, missing the way it felt when he was still buried inside of you. You did your best to clean yourself off with the towel hanging from your bedpost as Steve tied off the condom and tossed it in the bin. 

“We’re not just…” Steve began once you were both comfortable in your bed. He let the words linger for a moment before he shook his head. “Never mind.”

You turned on your side to face him, adjusting your blankets for a bit of modesty. “We’re not just fucking? That’s what you’re asking, right?” He nodded quietly. “It was nice, but no, that’s not all I want.”

He grinned. “Yeah? You wanna be my girlfriend? I totally pulled a cougar.” His stupid grin made you roll your eyes, but you couldn’t keep a matching smile off of yours. 

“You’re so annoying,” you said, not giving him a second to react before your lips were on his again. You pulled back and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. 

In the morning, you woke up in his arms as sunlight crept through the window. You squinted at the sun, then back at him. “Still want me to drive you to work?”

“No way,” he said, muffled against the column of your throat. Soft kisses peppered against your skin, making you giggle and arch into him. “I’m calling in.”

[writing-house-of-m]

Welcome to the Team

Wanda Maximoff x Reader x Jeff the landshark

Summary: Jeff meets the team

A/N: Here is part 2 of my Jeff AU. In celebration of today being a year since I first posted a fic there will be a double bill of Jeff! The final 1 year celebration request includes Jeff too so you can expect that later on. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this part, it's practically a crack!fic 😂

It is unusual for everyone to be sitting in the lounge area on a random Friday afternoon. But you have put it off for long enough so it is time to finally rip off the band-aid.

You are standing facing the group of heroes who are all looking at you expectedly with Wanda standing right behind you. You look over your shoulder and see her give you an encouraging smile, waiting for you to start talking.

Taking a breath, you begin. "Okay. I know you're all wondering why we've asked you here today." And before you can get anywhere the Avengers must think this is the cue to start a guessing game.

"Wanda's pregnant!" Tony exclaims.

Some of the quicker thinkers widen their eyes and reflexively look at you.

You point at him to quickly shut down the thought, "No."

"Really? There have been some weird noises coming from your room lately," Sam thinks aloud.

Once again you are stopped before you can comment.

"You're moving out together?" Bucky asks.

You're about to decline the accusation but then they all come flooding in.

"You finally proposed?" Natasha questions.

"Wanda proposed?" Steve opposes.

"Oh wow, I really thought it would be you to pop the question, Y/n. What a twist," Carol, who you don't even know why she is here, says.

"You got a dog?" Peter speaks with a hopeful look in his eye.

"A cat maybe?" Bucky decides to add his own input. Along with Bruce who follows with, "Perhaps a rabbit?"

You turn to see Wanda amused by the whole thing. Turning back around, you have to raise your voice to be heard, "QUIET!" This manages to restore some order to the meeting you called.

"Thank you," you relax. "None of you are right. Actually I guess Peter, Bucky and Bruce were close."

You see Peter raise his hand for a fist bump but Bruce mistakes it for a high five so it turns into an awkward closed hand around a fist situation. Bucky is too far from either of them to celebrate the small victory.

"There is a new addition to the compound, his name is Jeff," you announce.

"Who names a hamster 'Jeff'?" Peter asks.

"No way, it's going to be a parrot. Or some kind of bird right?" Clint 'The Hawkeye' Barton guesses.

Once again this starts off a new guessing game - What animal could it be?

"Monkey," "Raccoon," "Fox," "Guinea pig," "Chameleon," "Duck!"

You begin to question your life choices, how did you ever end up in this situation? Maybe you should have set this gathering up like a game show at least then it might have been fun for you too.

Instead of stopping them this time you take a seat until they hopefully tire themselves out.

"No, no. From the noises I heard it's definitely a goat," Sam remarks.

You decide it's hopeless when the discussion doesn't look like it will cease. Giving up the waiting game you nod your head to Wanda rolling your eyes, you can tell she is holding in her laughter for your sake.

She leaves the area and after a few moments she returns with Jeff. It is only when the pitter patter sound of footsteps close in do they realise you are no longer standing directly in front of them. Instead you are next to Wanda with a new being between you.

You could hear a pin drop now that everyone's gazes are fixed to the little guy.

"Everybody, this is Jeff," you introduce your new roommate.

The attention seems to make Jeff nervous, you don't know if he has ever had this many eyes on him. Possibly when he was captive in the lab. You realise this could be traumatic for him so you guide him to step behind you.

His two front feet grip your leg as he peers round to see everyone still looking at him.

Wanda sits on the floor close to him with a hand resting on the fin on his back. "It's okay Jeff, they're all friendly," she reassures him.

"Is that a fish with legs?" Clint asks, "Oh man, I was way off."

"He's a shark," you say matter-of-factly. When you see everyone's expression change to a worried or frightened one you clarify further in hopes to calm their nerves. "A landshark!"

It doesn't work.

"Y/n, what the hell is a landshark? You better start explaining and fast," Natasha all but threatens you. You can see one of her hands has disappeared behind her back meaning she is defensively readying a knife behind her.

"He's not harmful, he's really friendly," you say. Then you remember some things you have read about sharks so are quick to add, "Also sharks are misconstrued as being vicious when they're actually not. They get a bad rep even though they're basically puppies of the ocean. Did you know, more people are killed each year by coconu-"

"Y/n!" Natasha interrupts.

"Right," you say, gathering your thoughts and glancing down at him. "He's nice and friendly and really playful. A bit of a clutz too. We've had him hidden in our room for about two weeks now."

This seems to bring Tony's attention away from the shark to you, "Oh really? And you didn't think to mention this to the person who pays for everything around here?"

"We were going to tell you after the first night he stayed but didn't bother because we didn't think he would be here for this long. Dr Cho was trying to get a specialist in to take a look at him but there were delays," Wanda momentarily takes over for you.

"Oh, so Cho knows. That's great," Tony comments sarcastically, "as well as the specialist, right?"

"Yes. Plus two others who work with the specialist," you add much to Tony's dismay.

Jeff seems to be a bit more comfortable because he has come out from behind you. He tugs on your pant leg wanting to be picked up by you so you oblige and feedback to the group what you have found out so far.

"They finally looked him over a couple of days ago. No one knows where he has come from or why he looks the way he does. The working theory is that he was experimented on which fits with what Wanda saw in a flash the first time she came in contact with him."

Jeff starts squirming in your arms so you nod to Wanda to continue while you try to settle Jeff by whispering words of affirmation to him. Telling him none of these people will hurt him as you rub up and down his back.

"From the tests and interacting with him so far he seems to be able to understand us and in addition to being able to breathe air he can breathe underwater too. The more time we spend with him the easier it has been to communicate," Wanda finishes, while she scratches under Jeff's chin which helps calm his nerves.

Everyone looks on in silence as Jeff pulls away from you slightly. You speak in a low tone asking if he wants to say hi to the team. Which, reluctantly, he agrees to.

There is a strong bond between you, even if it hasn't been too long since you found him, so he knows he can trust anyone you want to introduce him to.

You go to place him on the ground but he whines a little while clutching your shirt. Instead, you stand back up and he turns in your arms facing the expecting crowd.

He raises his little hand in a wave speaking in a small voice, "Mrr."

In a second everybody's eyes soften and you hear a collective 'aww' sound out.

Maybe you should have started with this.

They are all about to rush over but you stop them from doing so with a hand out in front of you while taking a step back. Wanda moves swiftly standing between the incoming horde and Jeff.

"One at a time," she requests.

Peter makes his way over first and greets Jeff introducing himself.

It definitely must be a sight, all of this.

A young couple holding a shark as if he is a baby. It is only inevitable that someone asks, "So, is Jeff like your child then?"

And of course that person has to be Natasha.

…

The Jeff you are looking at now is unrecognisable to the Jeff from half an hour ago. He has lossened right up.

After everyone introduced themselves Peter decided to show Jeff his web slingers and, against yours and Wanda's wishes, hung Jeff upside down from the ceiling. The excited noise and wide smile was enough to make you step back. But not too far back just enough, in case you needed to catch him.

After that he spent some time with Carol who showed him a glowing fist. Natasha smirked at Wanda and you as she twirled a knife around her fingers, Bucky doing the same which turned into a contest.

When they weren't looking you picked him up and moved him away from the crazy movements.

As the only member with kids Clint simply spoke to him like he was a baby, Steve said he didn't have any tricks for him but maybe one day he would show Jeff his shield. Sam asked Jeff if he wanted to pet Redwing which he happily did.

Even now Tony has been playing tricks with him, making a coin disappear then reappear from behind Jeff's ear. He had to borrow a coin from someone first, it would have been more surprising if Tony had any small change on his person to begin with.

Next is Bruce who tells Jeff there is someone else he should meet then transforms into the Hulk. Jeff looks at the green giant in wonder then puts his arms up to be picked up so he can be the tallest in the room. When Hulk sees Jeff he crouches down so he is eye level with Jeff, sniffing and surveying him. He chuckles, calls Jeff 'a puny baby' then picks him up and places the landshark on his head.

Shortly after everyone takes their leave. Clint is on his way home to his family, Natasha goes to train with Bucky following behind her. A Hulk-less Bruce returns to the lab with Tony. Steve, Sam and Carol are discussing a mission they are assigned to lead and Peter says he has some homework he needs to finish.

"What a day huh Jeff?" You breathe out, exhausted. Jeff looks at you like a small child while trotting around, jumping on the couches and back onto the floor excited about all the new friends he has made.

"I think Jeff is going to be just fine here," Wanda says to you as you both watch him, side by side.

"Hello good people of Earth!" You hear a familiar loud voice sound from the entrance disturbing your peace. And when he makes it in front of you, he is his usual happy self.

"Hi Thor... What are you doing here?" You ask, confused.

"I'm here for the meeting, of course," Thor says in his cheery voice.

"I didn't know you were on the mailing list," you say a little tiredly trying to think back to the email you sent out.

"I didn't know he knew how to check his email," you hear Wanda's side comment next to you.

"Well, I am the strongest Avenger after all," Thor boasts, "I should be here for all the little talks and what nots."

"Right," you say a little unsurely. "Err, the meeting is over now but it was to introduce a new resident to the compound."

You see him spot Jeff who peeks his head over the backrest between you and Wanda. He is looking at Thor in awe with his mouth agape much like he did when he saw Hulk.

As he climbs over the back rest you stand and Jeff stands next to you in front of Thor his head tilting back as he trails his eyes upwards from the hammer Thor is holding to his face.

"This is Jeff," Wanda says.

"Jeff the landshark," you add.

Thor has seen plenty of creatures in his lifetime so it's no surprise he doesn't react in a negative way. "Oh, how wonderful! Welcome to the team, little landshark!" Thor's voice booms excitedly.

You don't get a chance to tell Thor that Jeff is not a part of the team, only that he is staying with you in the compound because, before you know it, he lifts Jeff onto his shoulder and walks away with him.

Sighing heavily you place your hands on your hips when you hear Thor talking about a battle, going into excruciating details about how he killed a group of enemies. You are a little wary of how Jeff is going to respond to the gory details of war.

Wanda stands and moves behind you. She wraps her arms around your waist, kissing your shoulder. "He-" Wanda was about to say something but is cut off short when you both hear an excited squeal from Jeff in the distance so she rests her chin and giggles against you instead.

"I was going to say he's going to love whatever story Thor brings up, but that's kind of obvious now," she says, smiling into your shoulder.

You sigh again, "I know. But now he's going to want us to talk about all the fights we've endured and I don't think it's good for him."

Next, you hear some scuffling making you cringe because it sounds as though some equipment has fallen and crashed to the ground. Not long later you hear the sound of fast little footsteps making their way in your direction.

Then you hear Thor shout, "JEFF! GIVE THAT BACK."

Well this can't be good.

Before you can move from your spot Jeff runs past you with Mjolnir clutched in his mouth. Wanda has stepped beside you and when you glance at each other you see she holds the same shocked expression as you.

You both then turn to see Jeff's figure running out of the entrance doors. Wanda is clearly amused but you speak aloud the question on your mind, "How is he worthy and I'm not?" You ask, insulted.

Wanda wraps her arms around your neck, her fingers playing with your hair, "It's okay honey, you don't need a hammer telling you anything I don't already know."

She is leaning in to kiss you but a new voice enters your ears.

"Sestra! Come look! There's a dog in a shark costume out here!" Pietro exclaims, "And he's holding a fake hammer too!"

It is official.

Jeff has met the whole team.

[pollen-blogs]

Rants from a tired writer 2: "killing *insert name of irredeemable villain here* actually makes us worse than them :("

In the year of our lord 2024, there is not a single reason why I should have to keep seeing this bs without the character who said those words getting some common sense bitch slapped into them. For the last time dearest writers, no, your MC killing the irredeemable villain does not make them worse or just as bad; remember, they are irredeemable for a reason!!

The only show that did this properly (that I can think off the top of my head) is Avatar the Last Airbender, because of course they did, this show never misses. There is such beauty in Ozai being forced to kneel before the last airbender, the only one he failed to kill, as he neutralises him in a way that honours the pacifist way of life of the air nomads. Aang didn't take Ozai's bending instead of taking his life because it was "the right thing to do"; another Avatar would have but that does not make them or Aang any less of a good Avatar for it. It made sense for Aang to choose not to murder Ozai, it was the most in-character thing he ever did and a lot of us could see a conclusion like this coming from a few thousand miles away.

Point is, if you're gonna go down that route, at least make it make sense, because, no, committing regicide on a tyrant that oppressed millions for ages does NOT make your MC as bad as them. Do you think Stanley Pines is as evil as Bill Cipher for burning him alive?

Can we call Luz Emperor Belos 2.0 for letting him rot in the boiling rain?

No! I heavily suggest that instead of recycling this moral dilemma every time the MC has to face the main villain, you should have them focus on rebuilding the "evil empire". Something like "okay, we need to overthrow the tyrant... Then what?" Which is something that the Owl House did really well. The Coven System was successfully abolished and long since forgotten, allowing magic to be explored freely like in the savage ages, and everyone has a role to play in the rebuilding of the isles which makes witches and demons more united than ever before. Nothing is perfect after Belos' death; some of the old Coven Heads were seen trying to go back to the old ways, Luz was pretty much left without magic for a few years and will have to wait for King to grow stronger in order to start using glyphs again, and that's fine.

If you really want your characters to explore the morals of overthrowing a tyrant and taking over, how about this: Let them wonder if they are fit to run a country or to change the system so radically, if it's fair to its people to change their lives so suddenly. I'm once again taking ATLA as an example, but in the comics, Aang and Zuko got into a fight because Zuko did not want to drive firebenders out of earthbender colonies because many people lived there their whole lives and shared both cultures, which the local earthbenders from those colonies did not mind in the slightest. TL;DR: be creative

[evening-rose-309]

I'M GLAD YOU AGREE WITH BILL. I LITERALLY SHIP HIM AND RYAN LIKE CRAZY

I mean, like,

Okay. So we know how Ryan is kinda some way about relationships. He's like "I like you but you're too much work but I'm not gonna tell you that because then you'll leave me and sometimes I want to leave you but I'm not gonna because then I'd be lonely and a loser so I'm not gonna tell you anything so you'll stay and I'll pretend to like you always in the best way I can even" about people and ends up an asshole most occasions. He's genuine multiple times but not enough and to not enough people in his self imposed rolodex and you can see that in the games and the book, and it's not just Diane or Cohen. He's like that with Sullivan, who I think he cares for, but because he can't understand Sullivan all of the time and wishes he would stop being Sullivan on some occasions, he ends up undermining and underestimating his judgement. And it hurts him when Sully dies, you know, or at least that's what I gather from the book; whether that's a blow to his pride that the rolodex is thinning out or because of actual genuine emotional attachment is up in the air, but the blow is a blow.

Bill is the same. Bill, maybe Greavy too before he died. Ryan likes Bill a hell of a lot more than almost everyone else. Bill's death is the same clinical detachment as all other deaths in the games with Ryan, but in the book, well. Karlosky says it best:

He didn't see Bill die, like he didn't with Sullivan, but this time it was voluntary. This is more than a blow to pride. Bill was like his safe space, in some instances. Like in the dinner scene at Kashmir at the start, when he isn't thinking about going off to Jasmine, he's wishing Bill were there at the table and is even elated when he gets called away, presuming Bill is already on top of the situation.

(also in this scene is the tidbit where Ryan laments on having already been married and "Never again," is his end to that narration, and nobody talks about that I am chewing through drywall—)

Bill is the closest thing Ryan has to a friend, which is still a long ass stretch. Ryan likes Bill, but Ryan is Ryan, and that is the entire tragedy on the matter. No matter how much he's gone and loved, gotten himself attached, genuinely feels for a person, pride comes first. Pride, not even Rapture, not even the ghosts he was running from from the outside world, he doesn't even care when he becomes the very monster that killed his aunt and uncle on that train platform and forced him and his father into hiding, if only under a different name, which is entirely too fitting. Bill, Diane, Greavy, Sullivan, Jasmine, and even Cohen, presumably, end up dying because Andrew Ryan is a man who does not buckle, does not compromise even when he should.

You would wonder if he were a different man, maybe the sort who would build a city under the ocean not to run from taxes, but from the biased and alienist regimes of the government above, who didn't value capitalism over humanity, who actually lived up to the whole "no gods, no kings" bit, if we could have had him and Bill in that office where Bill quietly admits to himself that Ryan is lovely when he's just sitting at his desk with his glasses lost in work, if he would have let go of Diane and didn't hang her on a string, if he listened to Sullivan about the plasmids and Fontaine and Culpeper.

But that is the tragedy of Rapture, and I'm a sucker for tragedies and alternate timelines where things are different and Ryan reads fairytales to Jack in his native tongue and tells him about the things he will never have to face ever so long as Ryan is alive as he falls asleep, whilst Bill watches from the door, reminiscing on how far they've come.

Or alternatively where he meets a stranded Robert House in 1933 and gets his ass handed to him by an apocalypse approved civil engineer and Rapture looks like an art deco reef instead of just New York on green filter.

Or he's a vessel for some kind of Cthulu and Bill has to handle that and Fontaine is freaking out because the feds didn't tell him this op has eldritch monsters peeking in from the windows and half of everyone is stuck here under Ryan's dead eyes being slowly fattened up to feed to some kind of monster lurking just under Persephone and who's like "alright yes you can have the plumber and all these others for yourselves pet, but remember you have to feed the slugs." and the little sisters once turned become his children. you know. usual shenanigans.

TLDR; yes, I love the lion and plumber ship because the lion is just a big awkward nervous housecat when the plumber walks in the room and the plumber is surprisingly territorial like wow Bill, chill, Cohen's like this with everyone, hold your wrenches—

[anthonybialy]

Running Out of Character on Twitter

Elon Musk shows how perception changes without doing anything.  Now, that’s a timeline change.  The CEO of tweeting didn’t set out to teach that lesson, which sums up his legacy.  You’re free to tweet your thoughts about it, or X about it if you’re really into believing branding.

Prince’s name change caught on more naturally.  Malibu Stacy’s new hat hasn’t changed the product.  The only difference beside the ‘90s-style sobriquet for the site I bet even Elon privately calls Twitter is how few erstwhile users have stuck around to see the aftermath.

Elbow room isn’t necessarily a virtue.  Holdout diehards enjoy impression rates that rival what used to be retweet counts.  It’s much easier to keep up with one’s feed now in the same sense there aren’t long lines in North Korean fast food restaurants. 

One of the richest humans ever presently toils as caretaker of a yip-yap app.  Tweeters voluntarily fritter away their precious hours on this plane of existence rattling off a queue of grievances.  All he needs to do is enable personal publishing of bitching.

Overseeing arguing about reality television is far more respectable than his previous career as a welfare queen.  Private spending is a nice change of pace from someone with an established pattern of pimping projects that get involuntary investors.  Taxpayer funding is ideal for someone who’s about 85 percent shyster.

Big ideas that don’t translate are perfect for the Twitter owner.  The difference between most people with unworkable thoughts is finding funding.

Seducing investors of funds seized from others allowed him to buy a time-wasting app that many use for journalism.  That doesn’t mean actual journalists, who resent social media for showing how easy the job is.  Amateur sleuths can and do fact-check every claim, including those by allegedly professional fact-checkers.  Granting themselves the title doesn’t make it true, so that’s another one to verify easily.

History started this morning, which is why so many forget that he has a long history as a plug-in car-pimping liberal superhero.  You may recognize Obama’s erstwhile BFF as the guy who got a rather giant loan from the Energy Department, which means taxpayers since liberals are confused about where money comes from.  That’s surely the only science that flummoxes them.

Former admirers loathe him because he believes in open forums, if not open markets.  The aforementioned name X will never spread like brokenness connected to all-time scam Buffalo Billions.  Vacancy in every sense increased after East German throwback New York threw money at the problem of companies refusing to do business in a people’s republic.

Consistent financial ruin following fantastic political promises should be a sign for everyone who thinks prosperity is just 10 figures taken from the economy away.  Investment takes the form of seizing funds to spend on monorails.

Aside from results, results were good.  Why did nobody think to spend money before?  The trifling bit about how life doesn’t turn out like all-time serial killer Andrew Cuomo promised doesn’t deter voters in certain decrepit states.  Acting like futuristic manufacturing was destined to happen embodies Democratic scheming in a nutshell.  The solution to government spending not helping was more government spending.  That’ll be the next step, too.  Keep wondering why there are so many Bills fans in Florida.

The only consolation is lack of surprise.  Turning on their dreamboats is part of believing in cult leaders instead of sound ideologies.  Betrayed liberals throw out their New Kids on the Block dolls.  Their taste outside of music is similarly sophisticated.  The lates is the most predictable.  Nobody else is surprised by despising anyone who allows dissent.  The Democratic platform features scientific truth, which means opposing it destroys reality.  Luckily for the most malicious, there’s a place where they can post without fear of getting kicked off for sharing their true emotions.

Waiting for algorithm mending is like anticipating good tweets from AOC.  The site not fixing itself as a sign of self-awareness is good news, but it’d still be nice if some human wouldn’t mess up search results.  Seeing content from followed accounts in chronological order is apparently as unreasonable a request as obtaining eggs during Joe Biden’s presidency.  The lack of meddling inherent in an open forum is intolerable for someone smarter than you.  Some parts of Twitter haven’t changed.

You can be your own editor.  At least, you once could.  The couple months between Twitter’s founding and its overlords realizing how much they enjoyed meddling were a fun freewheeling time like when new cable networks show whatever random wonderful programming they can find.  I miss Rawhide on FX.

Please accept things you don’t want in lieu of fixing what you requested.  This is one less-than-super superintendent.  Blocking the option to block would be like like Ronald McDonald announcing you shouldn’t order McNuggets.  Denying dastards the option to see your awesome tweets is a satisfying final sendoff.  Personally curating one’s feed is part of that whole free speech thing.  Shadow-banning remaining is one lousy consolation prize.

Messing up verification embodies big ideas going nowhere.  Sitting at the top of the Twitter caste was one of the ways the site got things correct, as it meant users could be sure the prominent name they saw was not an impostor.  Now, it means giving one of the wealthiest people ever eight bucks per month as if seeing ads weren’t enough of a cost.  One might not think a little blue checkmark could be even less of a status symbol.  One might be wrong.

Ideas on how to fix the wrong things fit a little too perfectly.  All Elon has to do is undo lame woke meddling.  Like coaching the Dream Team, you just roll out the ball.  Instead in reality, warping Twitter alienates both anyone who hates anyone daring to hint at the existence of natural rights and right-leaning people who just want to see tweets from who they choose.  That’s everyone.  Let’s just get back to welcoming all while blocking the annoying.

[gas-stxtion-a]

Spencer doesn’t like the tone that this stranger is taking with him, and this conversation has very rapidly reached the point where he can’t even find much, if any, entertainment value in it anymore. It’s very clear by now that they can’t stand each other and both would like this interaction to end sooner rather than later. Though, he supposes he can’t exactly fault the stranger for being rude, when he’s been plenty rude back. Not that he would ever be so gracious as to admit that.

“Oh, so you’ve seen it happen?” Spencer says. “Sure you don’t need to get your eyes checked?” At this point, he’s mainly being a dick just to be a dick--even if he finds it hard to believe a book alone could kill him, he knows better than to assume that there’s nothing supernatural happening here. Because, really, if his client wants the book, then there’s something special about it.

Though he still doubts that the ‘something special’ is the ability to magically kill people.

He can tell the goth is pissed, visibly bristling as Spencer casually talks down to him at every turn. Sure, calling him ‘kid’ isn’t exactly accurate, all things considered--Spencer may not know this guy, but they’re clearly around the same age, and Spencer is actually slightly shorter than him. That’s part of the point, though, if Spencer’s honest, and now that he can tell the insult landed, he has no problem digging his claws in just a little further.

“Got me there, kid,” he drawls with a sneer when the other points out that he doesn’t sound particularly grateful. “What an astute observation.” Part of him wants to keep going, to see if the stranger will get fed up and leave, but the rest of him does want the additional pay. So, he accepts the offered cash.

As the goth pulls out a thick wad of cash and starts counting bills, Spencer watches him, taking stock of his appearance. Something about him has caught Spencer’s attention, and though it takes him a moment to fully register what it is, his eyes widen ever so slightly once it does. Across the stranger’s throat is a tattoo of a plain black eye, staring blankly into space. On its own, it’s not particularly noteworthy and could very likely be just an unusual aesthetic choice, but something about it still catches his attention.

Spencer doesn’t know how to explain why, but for a long moment he finds himself staring at the tattoo, wondering what about it is standing out to him. It isn’t long, though, before the moment passes, and Spencer shakes his head slightly as if to clear it. The goth kid is speaking again, and Spencer looks back up at his face rather than his neck.

“That’s nice of you,” he says in a tone that makes it clear he doesn’t actually think that. Really, Spencer has no intention of stopping his hunt for the books. His client has entrusted him with this mission, and he takes that very, very seriously. If his clients can’t trust him to get the job done, then they have no reason to hire him. He has to keep their trust above all else.

Although… if the goth kid is really willing to pay him if he finds more books and hands them over, even more than what his client is paying, then maybe that’s something he should consider instead.

“So you want me to stop hunting for the books, but if I happen to find any more, you’d pay for those too?” he asks, just to clarify. A sharp-toothed smile slowly spreads across his face, and he accepts the offered money. “That’s quite the offer there, kid. You must really want these fucking books for yourself, huh?” The follow-up question about who his client is makes him pause, his smile turning ever so slightly sharper.

“Yeah, no can do, kid,” he says with another shake of his head. “If I just went around giving out the names and details of my clients, they’d have no reason to trust me to get them what they need. I’ll let you have the book, but I’m not giving you their name.”

gas-stxtion​:

The goth’s freaking out doesn’t do much to dissuade Spencer, but he does find the interaction irritating and makes no effort to hide this fact. As the man keeps talking, Spencer just stares at him, his brow furrowed and mouth downturned. Perhaps at any other time, he might find the other man’s desperation to get him to relinquish the book entertaining, but now he’s just pissed off at the interruption.

As the man keeps talking, Spencer glances down at the bag containing the book that started this whole thing. Though he’s not going to admit it easily, he had noticed something a bit… off about the book. Spencer’s seen enough at this point to know that the book having supernatural qualities is likely. At the very least, he knows that if his client wants it, there has to be something special about it.

That being said, he finds it hard to believe that a fucking book could kill him, let alone do something worse like this guy’s suggesting.

Spencer looks back up at the goth and snorts, forcing himself to smile, though he’s sure his irritation is plainly obvious. “Okay,” he says, “let’s pretend for a second I believe you. So if I take this book, it’s going to kill me?” The idea is enough to make him laugh, though instead he just shakes his head in disbelief. “The book. The book is going to kill me. And you’re trying to help me by taking it off my hands.”

At that, Spencer can’t help the way his lip curls slightly in distaste, showing his sharp teeth in a not-so-subtle threat. “Yeah, no can do, buddy. I appreciate the concern, I really do, but this ain’t for me. I’ve got a client waiting on this book, and I’ve already had a fucking bitch of a time trying to find it, so I’m not gonna give it up just because some paranoid goth kid thinks it’s going to get me killed.” It’s obvious he wants nothing more than for this conversation to end, but he still doesn’t move to walk away or just stab the stranger and be done with it.

“Appreciate the concern, kid,” he says in a voice dripping with sarcastic disdain, “but I think I’ll be fine. And if the book does somehow have the power to magically kill people all on its own, then that’s my client’s problem, not mine.”

It’s at that point that the man blurts out an offer to buy the book from Spencer, and that catches his attention. Keeping his expression in the same distasteful snarl, Spencer mulls over the offer, silently comparing it to the money his client is offering. His client is offering double what the goth blurted out, and as a result, Spencer’s immediate impulse is to turn the offer down.

However, Spencer hasn’t gotten this far in life by following every impulse presented to him. So, he thinks this through a bit more.

He’s not quite sure if this particular book is the one his client wants, but the way the goth kid’s talking, it’s clear there have to be others out there just like this one. If he hands over this particular book, he can take the five grand, then find another one later for his client and collect the money from them, too.

If Spencer plays his cards right, he’ll emerge from this situation a very happy man.

After a moment, he comes to a decision. He can only hope his abrupt change of heart doesn’t make his motives too obvious.

His demeanor shifts suddenly as he relaxes his posture and offers the man a sharp-toothed grin. “Well,” he says, his voice a low growl, almost a purr, “that’s a generous offer. You really want this book, huh? Well, I guess I can leave it in your capable hands to dispose of, if that’s the case.”

The two of them are annoying each other, and Gerry does not make an effort to hide his distaste, either.  “Yes, the book could potentially fucking kill you.  What part of that was unclear?” he asks, knowing that his rude tone isn’t going to win him favors, but he doesn’t have time to think about people’s sentiments.  He really wishes that people would be less concerned about their own feelings when he is trying to save their lives.  He can’t blame them for being suspicious, he supposes, but it still sucks.

“I’ve seen it happen multiple times.”  And heard and read about it even more times than that, but he is not going to say that part.  If he implies in any way that the books killing people is just some story, then he will never convince the guy to hand it over.

He especially dislikes the way the guy is talking down to him.  It makes his skin bristle, the way he says ‘kid,’ even though the two of them appear to be very similar in age and Gerry is the larger of the two.  Granted, Gerry was pretty tall, even when he was actually a kid, but he is very clearly not that young anymore.  A lot of people actually take him as slightly older than he really is—not by much, but by a little bit, perhaps because his soul seems old or whatever.  In any case, the ‘kid’ comment really bothers him, especially since he hasn’t been that outright insulting back.

“Doesn’t sound like you do appreciate it,” he remarks.  He does still want to save the other’s life; a few unkind comments are not going to sway him from that goal.  But he is not going to let himself get walked all over in the process, either.  He thinks that he can stand up for himself while helping.  It is possible that the guy gets fed up and decides to walk away, but Gerry can be pretty relentless himself and plans on chasing him down if that happens.

Thankfully, it doesn’t have to come to that because the other is financially motivated as it turns out, and Gerry breathes a small sigh of relief when the offer is accepted.  He does not find it very suspicious that the guy’s tune changed so quickly at the prospect of a financial reward because he knows that a lot of people are in need of money.  He assumes that his own offer is higher than whatever the mentioned client is paying him, in order for him to switch so readily.

And Leitners, as ubiquitous as they seem to him, actually do take some hunting in order to find, unless you get profoundly unlucky.  Most people who do happen across them will only come across one or two. It is just the hunters, like his mother, who amass a great number of them.  So, he believes that the other is unlikely to stumble across another one anytime soon.  It does seem as if he has put the work in to find this one, though.  Maybe Gerry can convince him not to go looking for others.

He pulls out a wad of cash and starts counting out bills, five thousand, as discussed.  Walking around with this much cash on him is a stupid move, he knows that, but he also needs to.  People don’t trust big checks not to bounce.  Plus, there is less of a paper trail this way. The authorities don’t need to know what’s going on in this book trade.

“I do really want it,” he says.  “I want to keep you safe.  I want you to stop looking for them, too.  I know you have a client you’re finding them for, so… whatever they’re paying you, if you bring the books to me instead, I’ll double it.”  He hands over the money.  “Actually, I’ll give you a bonus right now if I can get the name of your client as well.  I’d like to have this discussion with them.”  It’s a bold ask, but it is a risk that he feels obligated to take.

[yoursatanboyfriend]

a summary of Bill’s social life

[samesanegirl]

Rating Ron and Hermione Moments from The Books

1. Their First Kiss: I mean......no other moment in this list can beat this right? Ron made fun of S.P.E.W. for majority of the series but this all changes when Dobby saved their lives, at the expense of his own. It is also adorable considering that he is the first one to suggest the safety of the house elves instead of Hermione. Also, if Harry wasn’t with them, they would have not stopped kissing. Damn him for interrupting their moment.♾ ♾ ♾/10

2. Ron Getting 12 Fail Safe Ways to Charm Witches Book to Date Hermione: OMG! This is actually such a small scene in DH but its so damn adorable!!! I love that Ron took Fred and George’s gift seriously and started to read it to woo Hermione. I love that Hermione is “pleased and confused” at his politeness. This man really is putting in the effort to get the girl he loves. 307487482042/10

3. Hermione Confunding Cormac: Considering Hermione’s character and her hating breaking the rules, it is a big deal. She gets mad at Cormac for insulting Ron and therefore makes sure his arrogant ass does not make the Quidditch team so Ron does. She breaks the rules for her MAN. 150/10

4. The Malfoy Manor Scene: Honestly this scene was so damn tragic, all Romione fans were crying their eyes out in this scene. I hated seeing Hermione being hurt and hated seeing Ron stressing. However, because I am an emo bitch, I put it on the list. Ron who is calm under stressful situations was screaming her name over and over again and even offered himself to be tortured in Hermione’s stead. I am literally sobbing. the most infinite number in the world/10

5. Ron Pushing Hermione out of the way in the Cafeteria Fight: *sobbing* If you want a good partner, make sure you get one that will push you out of the way when spells are being thrown at you (if you happen to be a witch, too). Ron’s first instinct is to push her out of harm’s way instead of protecting himself. That’s called ‘actions are louder than words’ 100000000000000/10

6. Falling Asleep While Holding Hands: I honestly wish to know what led up to them holding hands in their sleep. Such a simple gesture but romantic nonetheless. It is even cuter considering that they weren’t actually dating when this happened. They are the best ship to ever grace the planet. 789/10

7. Ron Telling Snape to Fuck off after he Insulted Hermione: Ron has always made fun of Hermione for knowing everything but he also admired her intelligence and work ethic. However, once he sees how Snape’s insult affected Hermione, he roasts him (as he should). And earns detention for speaking against Mopey Snippy Snape. We love an overprotective king. 1000000000/10

8. Dancing at Bill and Fleur’s Wedding: Imagine Ron and Hermione dancing, him twirling her and having their happy moments before everything goes to shit.  I just know that they embraced and enjoyed every single second of their dance!! It is so damn romantic! Also can we appreciate Ron’s character development here???? He went from asking Hermione to the Yule Ball at the last minute to asking her to dance with him immediately???? ♾/10

9. Hermione kissing Ron’s Cheek: Its so adorable considering Ron was dazzled by her kiss and his mind was in another dimension when it happened. I  also love that Hermione puts effort into wishing him luck with the kiss and doesn’t bother even wishing the rest luck. She merely just says good luck to Harry. 90/10

10. Ron telling Hermione he loves her: Yes, they weren't dating. Yes, Ron was still dating Lavender. But this doesn't make it any less romantic. It’s so cute because you know that when he tells her he loves her, he means it. Hermione believes its a joke but blushes anyways. (Let’s also acknowledge that he told her she’s the most wonderful person he's ever met in fifth book when she helps him with his work) 10/10

[starryhyuck]

pride. (m)

pairing: sugardaddy!xiaojun x reader

words: 4.7k+

summary: stacked with two jobs, tuition bills and rent payments, an opportunity falls into your lap that leaves you wanting more.

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: creampie, breeding kink, semi-public sex, oral sex, degradation, overstimulation

It all started before you hit rock bottom.

When you enrolled in college and decided to study music, your parents refused to pay for your tuition as they had hoped you would pursue law instead. You’ve been passionate about music since you were younger, and financial burdens were not going to hold you back from pursuing your dreams.

You spend most school nights working a low wage job, and switch to a different low wage job on the weekends. You hardly had time to balance studies and work, but in order to make ends meet, you fill your body with caffeine and call it a day.

You’re in the middle of wiping down the counter of the campus’s local ice cream parlor, ignoring the email you received from your landlord minutes ago. It was yet another warning notice to pay last month’s rent, a task you’ve been putting off for weeks.

There’s barely anyone who comes into the shop this late at night on a weekday, only a few who have a midnight craving they have to fulfill. You’re surprised when Doyeon comes barging into the shop at half past midnight, dressed to the nines in her custom Versace gown.

She sighs and throws herself down on one of the parlor chairs. “I feel sick to my stomach. Is it possible for your intestines to hurt so much from champagne?”

You laugh at her. Doyeon was your first friend when you came to campus, and you were blissfully unaware of how wealthy she was until three months into your friendship. Her mother recently remarried and Doyeon despised her stepdad, but she never had any complaints about the money he carried with him. Doyeon’s offered to pay off some of your loans so that you wouldn’t have to work two jobs, but you always turned down her offer. You couldn’t take money from her — you had to have a little bit of pride.

“What happened now? More sleazy old men hitting on you?” You question, leaning over the counter to ask her.

“You know me so well,” she sighs, her curled hair styled perfectly down her shoulders. She removes her heels for a bit so she can breathe. “And Doyoung was complaining the entire time, pissing off my mom. You know how my brother is.”

You’ve met Doyoung once or twice, and he was very similar to Doyeon — confident, smart and not afraid to speak what’s on his mind. Doyoung had a very difficult time adjusting to their mother’s new beau.

“You know what would be nice?” Doyeon asks, eyelashes fluttering at you. “If you come with me next time.”

“You know I can’t,” you decline, moving to check on the tubs of ice cream. “I’m too busy with work and school. Can’t leave for a night of luxury.”

“But you can,” she whines loudly. “Just let me pay your rent for last month and we’ll call it even!”

You roll your eyes. “I hardly call that even, Doyeon.”

She huffs. “Please? I can’t stand to go to another one of these things and listen to those snotty people tell me how lucky I am that my mom found that douchebag. You would make it so much more fun, and save me from a night of torture.”

For the first time, you’re contemplating Doyeon’s offer. You’ve known for a long time now that you’re running low on funds, and you’re scared that if you don’t find a way to pay your landlord, he’ll end up evicting you. Your eyes glance up to meet Doyeon’s, who has her puppy dog gaze turned on.

You sigh. “Just one event. That’s it.”

She squeals, and almost jumps over the counter to hug you.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you, thank you!”

You awkwardly pat her back. “Yeah, yeah.”

—

Doyeon failed to tell you that the event she was dragging you to would actually take place within a week.

You scrambled to find a dress and how to style your hair, knowing that if you showed up in an off-brand name, you would immediately look like an outcast. Doyeon saved you from the humiliation, shoving you into a Valentino dress that had your eyes rolling out of your head at the price tag. She also hired a hairstylist on the day of to come over and fix you up, which you clearly disagreed on until Doyeon told you it wasn’t up for debate.

And now, here you were, standing in the middle of the most luxurious place you’ve ever stepped foot in. Doyeon leans over to whisper to you while you’re eyeing the waiters and waitresses walking around with trays of champagne.

“Just smile and act like you only care about money.”

She tugs you forward and you try your best to match her pace. A girl approaches you two first, nails wrapped around the stem of her glass. She’s wearing one of the most beautiful gowns you’ve ever seen, a Chanel piece her mother imported for the event.

“Hyojung, you’re way too young to be drinking anything,” Doyeon scolds.

“Calm down, mom. No one’s snitching except you. Who have you brought?”

Doyeon beams and loops her arm through yours. “This is my friend from college.” She gives Hyojung your name and you offer your best smile.

Hyojung returns your grin. “Nice to meet you. Where do your parents work?”

Doyeon opens her mouth to tell Hyojung the truth, but you stop her.

“They own a few chain businesses in our hometown. Nothing too grand,” you inform. Hyojung nods in agreement, eyes darting somewhere else.

“Well, Chanwoo is here. I’m going to get the gossip that he owes me from last time.”

When Hyojung leaves, Doyeon frowns at you. “Why did you lie?” She questions.

You shrug. “I would rather not be a fish out of water here more than I already am. It’s better if people think I’m at least middle class.”

“Okay,” she says slowly. “You know I’m not ashamed of you, right?”

You giggle and pat her cheek. “Of course I know.”

“Finally!” You hear someone exclaim, and you turn to see Doyoung rushing over to the two of you. “Where the hell have you been? Mom’s going to murder you for showing up so late.”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Relax. We took a long time getting ready.”

Doyoung smiles gently at you before tugging his sister away. You feel even more awkward, hands folding together as you sway in the middle of the room. The people around you are talking animatedly and you can faintly hear the sound of the violin in the back of the room. You wonder if you should pretend to go to the bathroom or find somewhere to sit-

“Never seen you here before.”

You turn to see a guy your age, dressed in a full Armani suit and Rolex watch shining under the sparkling chandelier. You awkwardly clear your throat.

“Uh, yeah. My friend brought me. Do I look that weird?”

He chuckles, running a hand through his chestnut locks. “You look beautiful. I’ve just been to plenty of these galas before and I’ve pretty much memorized the guest list.”

Your heart lingers on his compliment and you avert your gaze.

“My first one. Are they always like this?”

“Boring, you mean?”

You laugh and he joins in. You swear you feel butterflies frantically flying in your stomach.

“So, what’s your story? Also have rich parents?” You ask.

He nods. “My mother owns half of the city’s major businesses. I’m Xiaojun, by the way.” You give him your name and he smiles, motioning to the back of the room. “Want to talk where it’s a little less loud?”

You agree, smiling and taking his arm as he leads you to the less chatty part of the room. You both sit on a luxurious velvet couch, a piece of furniture that most likely costs more than your entire apartment. Xiaojun hands you a glass of champagne, his smile taking your breath away.

“Tell me a little bit about yourself,” he muses, eyeing you carefully.

You laugh. “Is this a job interview?”

He shrugs. “Could be.”

Your eyebrows furrow at his answer, but you figure rich people were always weird and vague like that. “I go to the same college as Doyeon, and I’m studying music. Not really much to say, I spend most of my time working.”

He nods, and you can’t place what the look in his eye is for.

“Music, that’s interesting. What made you decide to take on such a daunting major?”

“Daunting as in it’s not law or business?” You counter, giving him a look.

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Hey, no judgment here. In my world, I haven’t met anyone who isn’t a law or business major. It’s nice to have a change of scenery.”

He challenges your gaze, and you feel a warmth in your stomach you haven’t felt in months. You jump when you hear the shriek of your name and Doyeon comes charging towards the two of you.

“There you are! Jesus, I had to hear Doyoung fight with my stepdad for almost ten minutes.” Her exasperation turns into surprise when she sees Xiaojun seated next to you. “Oh! Hey, Dejun. Didn’t see you there.”

He offers a smile. “Hi, Doyeon.”

“Do you mind if I pull her away for a bit?” Doyeon asks, but she’s already looped your arm through hers. You slightly protest when she tugs you away from Xiaojun, but you’re immediately distracted by her next question. “What the hell were you doing talking to him? You know what Xiaojun is famous for, right?”

You frown, looking over your shoulder again to see him, watching as his line of sight carefully follows you and Doyeon.

“No, I don’t. He seemed nice. What’s the issue?”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “He’s a sugar daddy. Always looking for new sugar babies to satisfy him. He’s been blowing through girls like the wind for the past year. He’s not good, and I don’t want you in his company without me.”

You try to process that the man you were just talking to was, in fact, scoping you out to get a potential new sugar baby. You can’t wrap your mind around it, even when Doyeon drags you to the corner of the room, where Doyoung and her stepdad are still fighting.

Your eyes linger on Xiaojun’s table, but he’s already long gone.

—

“Nice shop you got here.”

You practically jump out of your shoes at the sound of the familiar voice, almost spilling a cup of ice cream down your front. You nearly get whiplash with how fast you spin around, eyes widening at the sight of Xiaojun standing in the middle of the ice cream shop. Your manager, Seojeong, raises an eyebrow at your skittish nature.

“Is there a problem here?” She questions, but you immediately brush her off.

“No, no problem!” You squeak. You immediately rush over the counter and push Xiaojun out of the shop. “Seojeong, I’m taking my 15!”

“Um, okay?”

Once you’ve got Xiaojun on the street, you take notice of what he’s wearing - another dark Armani suit, same Rolex watch, and hair styled in a way that’s meant to make your panties drop. You push back your thoughts and whisper harshly to him.

“I know why you’re here.”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Do you now?”

“Yes, I do,” you state confidently, tilting your chin up. “Doyeon told me about your little sugar daddy scheme.”

He laughs. “Ah, is that what they’re calling it now? Didn’t realize I was such a bad guy for wanting to help out girls in bad situations.”

You scoff. “Do you get off on this? Lowering yourself to the underprivileged lives of the poor? Pretending to be the hero that saves the damsel in distress?”

He snickers at your line of questioning, shoving his hands in his pockets and eyeing you. He leans down so that you’re face to face, and you falter as he becomes closer to you.

“And if I do? What if I like giving you money so you don’t have to work two jobs?”

“How do you know I have two jobs?” You inquire.

“You looked so lost at that gala. I told you I’ve memorized the guest list — you’ve never been on it. It became relatively easy to discover the rest of the details. It must be exhausting doing this everyday, haven’t you ever wanted a break?”

You fold your arms across your chest and take a step away from him. “What’s in it for you?”

He grins. “The pleasure of your company.”

“What kind of company?” You ask, doubting him. You won’t lie and say the offer isn’t intriguing to you. You still have pride, definitely, but the weight of two jobs has really taken a toll on you lately. Plus, Doyeon said Xiaojun breezes through girls anyways. You could get a break from paying your rent for a few months and before you know it, he’ll move onto the next charity case he wants to help out.

There’s no harm in that, right?

Your thoughts are blown through the window, however, when his smirk grows wider. You’re sure there’s a large damp spot in your underwear right now.

“Whatever company you like, little one.”

You’re fucked.

—

You keep the relationship with Xiaojun quiet and under wraps. You know Doyeon would have many thoughts about your choice, and she would probably convince you to let her pay your bills instead of Xiaojun. You couldn’t place that burden on her shoulders.

Surprisingly, Xiaojun doesn’t ask for much. He swings by the ice cream parlor once a week, drops off a $1000 check, stays to chat for a little, and leaves. Seojeong doesn’t raise any questions, albeit you’ve seen her glance at the envelope you leave in the back room. You would’ve thought that Xiaojun is the type of guy who invites you over to his penthouse apartment to get to know him, but he’s been quite reserved. He never crosses the line with you, and his questioning stays on the topic of your classes and work. You continuously wonder how to captivate his attention and if the other girls before you failed to do so.

About a month into the deal, your patience wears thin. You’re not even really sure why you’re frustrated in the first place. Anyone would love a no strings attached deal like this, getting $1000 every week with barely any commitment. You quit your other job because you don’t need both paychecks now and you’ve been able to keep up on rent. However, a part of you expected to be close with Xiaojun in some way at this point, especially considering the way he was flirting with you when he first propositioned this.

You’re fully prepared to confront him on Friday night, the same day he usually drops off the check and chats with you for a bit. You practically throw yourself over the counter when he takes a step inside the shop, yelling over your shoulder to Seojeong that you’re taking your break.

Xiaojun laughs at your eagerness, allowing you to tug on his suit as you pull him outside.

“Someone’s excited today. Need the check that badly?”

You frown at the accusation and exhale. “No, as a matter of fact, the money you’ve given me so far could probably cover me for a year.”

“Then what’s with the frowny face?”

“There’s a catch here, Xiaojun, I know there is. You’ve been too nice,” you say, waving a finger at him.

He smirks. “Have I been? I told you, little one, all I need is your company. You’ve given that to me every week, haven’t you?”

You scoff. “Barely. We talk for a few minutes while I’m making orders for other customers and then you leave. I would hardly call that company.”

He gets even cockier, if that was humanly possible. Xiaojun has to know what he’s doing to you — the mystery of his true personality starting to make you curious.

Similar to your first meeting, he leans down until he’s a few inches from your face, eyebrow raised. “Didn’t mean to neglect you, little one. Did you want more from me?”

You shift awkwardly, tension building in your stomach from his words. He was clearly teasing you and his patience was stronger than you previously believed. He waited a month just to have you desperate like this, wanting something more than a few minutes of his time. You’re so wet at this point that you’re definitive Xiaojun knows.

To prove your point, his smirk grows wider. “What are you doing after your shift?”

“U-Um, I have some homework to finish-“

“Great, I’ll pick you up after work and you can finish it at my apartment.” He doesn’t give you any time to protest, moving closer to you, his breath hitting the shell of your ear. “Next time, little one, just tell me you need more attention. Daddy will gladly give it to you.”

—

You’re a nervous wreck when Xiaojun’s expensive Rolls-Royce pulls up to the curb after your shift has ended. His car looks terribly out of place on the streets of your dirty campus, but he doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. You quickly get in and ask him to go before anyone can recognize you.

The ride to his apartment in the upper part of town is filled with silence, making you even more jittery. Xiaojun, on the other hand, is calm and collected with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the console. You try to swallow your nerves and reason with yourself.

This is just Xiaojun — son of a multimillionaire, heir to many respective companies within the city. This is just Xiaojun — the man who’s been giving you $1000 every week with no strings attached, the man who’s clouded your dreams for the past month on more than one occasion.

Unfortunately, you don’t have any more time to dwell on your thoughts when Xiaojun pulls up to the parking garage of his complex. The both of you exit the car and he hands the keys to one of the valet drivers. His fingers fall to the small of your back as he guides you inside.

You try to avoid the blatant stares from other residents. You’re still dressed in your work clothes, a simple t-shirt and pair of jeans, but you couldn’t look more like a fish out of water. Xiaojun doesn’t seem to mind, walking into the elevator and pressing the top floor button. You ride the elevator in silence, and your eyes nearly fall out of your head when you reach the penthouse.

The apartment is straight out of the movies. The decor is extravagant, and you’re afraid if you touch anything, you’ll have to pay a fine. Xiaojun leads you to the dining room, pulling out a chair for you, despite your confusion.

“You can finish your homework here. I’ll be in the study upstairs.”

“Wait wait wait,” you stop him, placing a hand on his chest. “You’re leaving?”

He grins. “Did you want me to stay?”

He was really going to make you beg for it. Your eyes narrow and you feel a burst of confidence run through you. You tilt your head up until you’re a few centimeters from his mouth.

“You said Daddy would give me more attention if I asked for it.”

He growls, eyes darkening. Before you know it, he has you pinned to the grand table, staring at you as if you’re his last meal. It’s your turn to smirk as his control snaps, fingers digging into your hips roughly.

“Think it’s fun to test me? The other girls before you were more behaved,” he hisses, eyes wandering to the valley of your breasts.

“But you don’t like that, do you? You like it when they disobey,” you murmur, pulling him closer to you. “You like giving them their punishment.”

Xiaojun’s lips are pressed to yours before you can even fully register what’s going on, his body locking you against the wood. You whimper, hands gripping his forearm to keep steady. It’s messy and frantic, and you can see all of the built up tension starting to show.

“What would Doyeon think of you whoring yourself out for money?” He snickers, making you feel small under his gaze. “I bet she would be so ashamed. Little one gave up her pride for a few thousand dollars?”

You whine. “It’s not like that.”

“But isn’t it?” He questions you, fingers unbuttoning your jeans and sliding them down your legs. You wish you had worn a sexier pair of panties today but Xiaojun seems satisfied nonetheless, snapping the elastic against your skin. “Can’t wait to get a taste of this cunt. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it, little one?”

You probably look pathetic like this — half of your body sprawled across Xiaojun’s dining table, pants around your ankles, and a large wet spot ruining the fabric of your underwear. You pitifully nod in response to his question, eyes locked on the bulge straining against his expensive trousers. He chuckles when he follows your line of sight.

“Hungry?”

You fall into the role so easily. “Yes, Daddy.”

He directs you on your knees, the cold marble floor sending a shiver up your spine. You eagerly watch him unbuckle his belt and exposing his leaking cock for you. The tip is red and angry, demanding to be touched.

“Go ahead, little one. Make Daddy feel good.”

You wrap your mouth around the tip, nearly moaning at the taste of him. You haven’t been intimate with someone in so long and his cock has your mouth watering.

“Good girl,” he soothes, pushing his cock further down your throat. Tears immediately spring into your eyes when he ignores your gag reflex, hands gripping the back of your head as he guided you. “Shh, doing so well for me, little one.”

You allow him to fuck your mouth, trying to brush aside the tears falling down your face and saliva pooling at the sides of your mouth. It’s filthy and you love it — you haven’t been used like this in months and you never realized how much you missed it.

“Your mouth is so perfect, fuck,” he groans. “I’ll pay for anything you want if you stay on your knees like this, all pretty for me.”

You gasp when he lets you breathe, pulling his cock away. He chuckles at you, fingers returning to stroke himself as he watches you regain yourself. He tugs you back on your feet, overlooking your wobbly legs and pushing you into the living room. You’re about to question him on what he’s doing until he’s shoving you up against his glass window. You gaze downwards, seeing a plethora of people passing by on the street and cars honking to one another. It’s a view you only see in the movies, and you know Xiaojun’s eager to fuck you into the fantasy.

His fingers slide into your underwear, breath hot against your neck. “Look at all of them down there, little one. Bet they want to be just like you, fucked so good for everyone to see. Even better when I cum inside you, hm?”

You freeze. “D-Daddy,” you whisper frantically. “I’m not on the pill.”

He’s silent behind your figure before you feel him playing with your folds, your wetness coating his hand.

“Isn’t that nice? What do you think of getting knocked up, little one? This entire place could be yours, you would never have to step foot in that ice cream shop again. All the wealth you never imagined, you could spend all day in bed with me while I stuff you full. You would look so pretty on Daddy’s arm. I wonder how many times we could sneak away from the crowd so I could fuck my cock into you. Wouldn’t that be a dream?”

You gasp, growing wetter by the second. He easily slides a finger into your heat and all common sense is thrown out of the window.

“Please fuck me, Daddy,” you beg. “Please please please. I’ll be good for you, I promise.”

He laughs at your desperation, pushing another digit inside. “Even though you’re not on the pill? How filthy of you, little one.”

It’s sick. You barely know this man but all you want is his cum inside you. You can imagine the headlines now — Millionaire’s Son Gets Poor Girl Pregnant. But you want it. You want it so badly.

You hear the tearing of your panties but you couldn’t give a fuck what happens to them, pushing yourself further into him. He laughs again at you, tip lining up to your entrance.

“Beg for it.”

You cry. “Please, Daddy! I want it, I’ve been so good for you! I’ll let you cum inside me and everyone can watch. I want them to see who I belong to.”

“Fuck,” he growls at your submission. You nearly scream when he pushes into you, his girth bigger and thicker than you’ve ever taken before. On top of that, you haven’t had sex in months and the stretch is almost unbearable. Your head rolls back but Xiaojun grips your chin and forces you to look outside the window. “Look at all those people, little one. They’re about to get a nice show.”

He gives you no time to adjust, thrusting into you like he wants to break you. His fingers tangle into your hair and he pulls roughly, causing you to yelp at the pain. You’re past the point of coherent thinking, Xiaojun’s cock fucking you so good you can barely talk.

“Good, little one?”

“Mmf,” you gurgle, gasping at the force of his movements. You can feel him in your throat, and it’s as if he’s waited all these weeks just to spill his seed into you.

You tumble over the edge when he pinches your clit, whispering the dirtiest confessions into your ear. “Needy whore,” he laughed sinisterly. “Probably can’t go a day without my cock after this. Going to be begging me for it, wanting me all the time now. I can’t wait to take you everywhere and anywhere I please. I’ll buy you so many cute outfits, little one. So many skirts that make it easy for me to slide right inside and fuck you until you’re crying for me.”

You clench around his cock and fall over the edge, your wetness spilling down your thighs.

“Daddy,” you breathlessly hiss, body going limp in his arms.

“You came so much for me, little one. Your slutty cunt is so good for me, isn’t it?”

“Please, Daddy,” you plead. “Please, Daddy. I want to feel your cum.”

“Yeah?” He grunts, the sound of his balls repeatedly slapping against your pussy echoes around the room. “You wanna get pregnant? All baby wants is a big fat cock to stuff her full of cum, hm?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you cry out, not even caring how pitiful you look at this point. “Want it so badly.”

Your desperation snaps the cord inside of him and he spills every last drop into you. You whimper at the warm feeling, some of his cum starting to drip out and coat the inside of your thighs. You both attempt to catch your breaths, your legs feeling like jelly.

You’re about to move away from him until Xiaojun keeps you pinned to the window, stopping you from leaving.

“W-What are y-you doing?” You ask, still out of breath from the fucking you just received.

“I don’t think that was the one,” he muses, eyes locked on where you two are intertwined. He offers an experimental thrust that has you scrambling.

“No, no,” you sniffle, trying to move away from him again. “I can’t, I can’t.”

“I think you can,” he chuckles, enjoying the way your cunt wraps so nicely around his cock. “And you will. Haven’t gotten you pregnant yet, little one.”

You spend hours fucking like bunnies with Xiaojun taking you on almost every surface of his apartment. You don’t even care that you’re impregnated, allowing him to use you in any way he pleases while the sun falls under the skyline.

Your pride didn’t matter that much anyways.

[ttuesday]

Hi Tuesday!! Can I please request some HCs of the gang members secretly having a crush on you, and at a party one night you find out about it when Sean drunkingly yells “hey everybody! <characters name> is in love with y/n!!” Hope this made sense!! Xx

Arthur

There is no way this is happening, this can’t be happening. That’s what is going through Arthur’s head. This must be a nightmare, there’s no way Sean seriously just shouted that, announcing Arthur loves you in front of everyone. 

Arthur tries to speak, opening his mouth but stumbling over his words. Feeling heat rise to his cheeks, he calls Sean an ass before quickly storming off. Arthur has no idea how he's supposed to recover your friendship after this, certain you won’t want anything to do with him. 

Arthur jumps when you gently say his name, asking if you could sit down beside him. He didn't expect anyone to follow him, least of all you. As you make yourself comfortable next to him, Arthur looks at you with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. 

When you confess your feelings to him, he feels absolutely relieved, mumbling that he should probably thank Sean once he’s sobered up. Holding his hand out to, Arthur smiles shyly and asks if you’d like to dance with him.

Charles

You and Charles always got along. It didn’t take long before you became his most trusted friend in the gang, going on jobs together and spending hours talking with one another. That’s why he didn’t want to tell you about his feelings, he was scared it could jeopardize your friendship.

But when Charles no longer had a say in whether you found out or not and Sean announces it to everyone, Charles mutters a curse to himself and practically chugs the rest of his drink. He quickly brings you away from the group, apologizing for Sean and telling you how much he wishes you found out a better way. 

Scratching the back of his neck, Charles admits that what Sean said is true but he doesn’t want to lose your friendship, hoping that whether you return his feelings or not you’ll still be friends with him. 

You laugh lightly, mentioning how you actually thought Sean was going to yell about your crush on Charles, not the other way around. Charles smiles, thankful you feel the same way but makes sure you know he doesn’t want to pressure you into a relationship and wants to take things nice and slow.

Dutch

Dutch freezes in place, a mixed look on his face that's hard to read. Dutch likes being in control so he hates that Sean did this. You can't quite tell if Dutch is about to laugh or if he's wondering how suspicious it would look if he coincidentally left Sean for dead on the next robbery. 

Putting a tight smile on his face, Dutch sarcastically thanks Sean for his wise choice of words before insisting everyone carries on with the party.

Dutch wastes no time approaching you and apologizing for Sean’s announcement. He bashfully admits that yes, he finds you very attractive but that the last thing he wants is for this to come in between your friendship with him.

When you tell him you feel the same way, Dutch plays it cool. He keeps his cards close to his chest, his eyes lingering over you as a smirk forms on his face. Lowering his voice, Dutch asks “Then could I perhaps, ask for a kiss?”.

Micah

For a few seconds, Micah says nothing, trying his absolute best to resist the urge to shoot Sean. Because this is Micah, he goes on the attack and airs everyone's dirty laundry in the hopes that'll turn people's attention away from what Sean said.

He tells everyone about Sean and Karen getting it on in John's tent (thanks to a drunken Bill mentioning it to him) causing an argument between Sean and John. Then Micah starts going on about Hosea doubting Dutch and Abigail asking Arthur to take Jack fishing instead of asking John. When everyone starts arguing with one another, Micah sneaks off and disappears for the rest of the night. 

It’s the next morning when you see Micah and he actively avoids you, presuming there's no way you reciprocate the feelings. Whenever you’re near him, he gets defensive and won't mention what Sean says unless you do.

When you finally confess your feelings to him, you do it in the heat of the moment, getting pissed off at how much Micah’s avoiding you. Glancing around to make sure no one else is listening in, Micah suggests you both go discuss these feeling in the saloon *wink wink*.

John

John turns his attention to Sean first, yelling if he really thinks this is the best time to say that in front of everyone. He’s not necessarily mad but definitely annoyed and embarrassed.

John then turns his attention to you, asking Sean if he thinks you want this revelation dropped on you out of nowhere and that he should have considered how you would feel in all of this. When Sean just laughs in response, too drunk to care, John gives you an apologetic look before walking away from the crowd.

He’s sulking but if you say that then John will completely deny sulking, no matter how obvious it is. Quietly, you tell him you feel the same way. John just stares at you for a few seconds, eyes wide and it’s kinda like he’s frozen. 

Coming to his senses, John asks you to repeat yourself, not believing he heard you right the first time. As your words sink in, he laughs in disbelief before quickly apologising for laughing.

Javier

Javier was busy playing his guitar when Sean decided to yell about how much Javier loves you. As soon as he hears this, Javier accidentally messed up the chord, making everyone turn to him.

He feels wrong if he were to walk away and leave you to everyone’s questions and opinions. Javier stands up and embraces the moment.

Javier tells you how he wishes he had more control over the situation but that he does love you and he’s loved for a long time now. Scared of making things worse, he says how you don’t need to tell him (and everyone else who’s listening) how you feel right now.

When you speak up and say you feel the same, Javier feels like he might faint he’s so happy. He hugs you, softly asking if you’d like to talk somewhere more private. Javier wants to make sure you know he likes you for you and that he doesn’t want you to feel pressured or anything like that.

Sean

Sean really thought this would be a good idea. He remembered Mary-Beth mentioning how the romantic interest in one of the books she was reading stood up in front of everyone and professed his love for the main character. He thought it was a great idea and decided he’d recreate it for you.

Sean nearly falls off the crate as he stands up on it and sways from side to side. Making sure he has everyone's attention, he gestures to you and tells you how he truly feels about you. 

Sean is a man who wears his heart on his sleeve so he doesn't hold back, mentioning how you make him feel and how he promises to treat you like royalty if you give him the chance.

After confessing his love for you, Sean awkwardly stands there and smiles. He was very confident while he telling everyone how he feels but waiting for your reaction is nerve-wracking for him. Swallowing a lump in his throat he says, "So?".

Trelawny

The one goddamn time Trelawny's around camp for a party, this happens. He didn't realize his love for you was so obvious, feeling somewhat embarrassed that even Sean could tell he was pining after you.

He awkwardly thanks Sean for providing such dramatic entertainment for everyone before asking if you would like to talk somewhere private. Josiah starts rambling when he's alone with you, trying his best to control the damage of Sean's statement. 

In between his ramblings, he mentions how excited he would be if you felt the same way but that he wouldn't dream of putting you under any pressure nor would he expect you to give him an answer tonight. 

He keeps talking, barely catching his breath in between each sentence. Deciding you’ve heard enough, you grab Josiah by the collar and pull him in for a kiss, finally making him stop talking.

Hosea

Hosea sighs, running his hand over his face before ordering Sean off the crate he stood on especially to give this announcement. Instead of facing you, Hosea prefers to waste some time scolding Sean. He knows he should just talk to you about this but he's scared of your reaction.

Once Hosea lectures Sean and makes sure he won't cause anymore trouble, Hosea tries to sneak off to the outskirts of camp. If someone else was in this situation and asked Hosea for advice, he would say the worst thing to do would be avoid you yet here he is, doing exactly that.

When you finally find him, Hosea apologizes and says that it was completely inappropriate for Sean to do that not only to Hosea but to you too. 

The last thing Hosea wants is for you to feel embarrassed in all of this too. Telling him you love him too, Hosea’s jaw drops. Your words sinking in, he smiles warmly and rests his hand on top of yours.

Kieran

“Christ…” Kieran mutters, feeling everyone’s eyes on him. Sean’s teased him in the past about how much he likes you but he didn’t think Sean would do this. 

Bill “playfully” shoves Kieran, saying some comment he doesn’t hear properly. Looking over at you, Kieran can’t find the right words and opts to leave the situation.

When the party dies down, Kieran approaches you and says sorry for leaving so quickly. He’s open and honest with you, letting you know he is in love with you but that he doesn’t want you to feel obliged to reciprocate the feelings. And Kieran assures you that if you need some space then he’s fine with distancing himself for a while, willing to do whatever you see best.

You stop him as he rambles on about giving you space, confessing that you like him too. Kieran’s gobsmacked, smiling from ear to ear and suggests he takes you on a proper date tomorrow to hopefully make up for everything being revealed this way.

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

Hearth

(dabi) t.todoroki / reader

genre: prohero!touya, fluff

warning(s)!!: cursing ofc, dabi's atittude/snark, he's still dabi- just not a villain lol, he doesn't have his burns just his piercings, bloody piercings/lip

synposis: touya comes home with a bloody lip and three missing nose piercings, you get the honor of cleaning him up and getting him to bed for a well-deserved rest

w.count: 2.4k (probably the shortest thing i've written in years and no that's not a joke)

-x-x-x-

“Shit, that stings,” Touya hissed to himself as he felt around the bloody and bruised right nostril of his nose where three small piercings should have been. He hissed as he quickly took his fingers away from the small holes missing their jewelry. “I can’t wear nothing around here, damn.”

The commotion around him was hardly his focus when his nose stung so much, not even his split lip bothered him when he licked over it- too focused on his poor nose. It was pitiful really, getting into a scrap with a low-level thug trying to run off with a duffel full of loose bills from some random convenient store. He was fine overall, not being too unfamiliar with fistfights without having to use his quirk, but the thug sure did a number on him when he grabbed at his face- probably aiming to yank on his hair, but falling short- and somehow ripping all three of his studs from his nose.

Blood dripped in small drops off the side of his nostril and from inside his nose, creating a slow stream to his top lip which entered his mouth- filling it with the metallic taste of his blood. His pierced tongue’s metal bar tasted nothing like the iron of blood and he shook his head in distaste.

He sniffed and palmed gently at his minor wound before the cops showed up and wrapped up the situation. They offered to have his injuries cleaned up at the station- but he was so close to being finished with patrol and heading back home he didn’t bother. It wasn’t like he was in any sort of critical pain, he just wanted to rip his nose off.

His patrolling went smoothly after that, the small scuffle being the highlight of his evening and as he walked, bored back to the agency he was working at with his father (begrudgingly), he changed and slung his duffel with his gear and suit inside over his shoulder. He’d leave all this stuff in the changing room locker with his name on it and a secure lock- but you had insisted he bring it home tonight so it all could be tuned up and cleaned properly. You were a stickler about that.

Touya damn near broke into a run, mad-dashing it to the door, when he heard his father behind him call out his name when he was so, so close to the agency doors. As far as he was concerned, he was done for the day.

D o n e.

Endeavor could suck it.

He wasn’t sure how far he ran before he deemed it safe enough to slow his strides, but then the chills set it. He wasn’t cold- even if it was the middle of winter- all thanks to the cold resistance he inherited from his mother winter wasn't really ever that cold to him. If anything the sweater and joggers he wore were almost too warm with his swift escape from work.

He stopped at the corner of the sidewalk, waiting for the traffic lights to signal he could safely cross the road and have the right to sue if someone were to hit him, and looked up at the grey clouds. It looked like it was due to snow again and he chuckled to himself at mentally picturing you shiver just at the mere thought of more snow. Lowing his chin back down to look ahead, his pace quickened, already more than ready to be home.

“Hey, babe! I’m back!” Touya called into the house. The difference in temperature made him shiver- even if again, he wasn’t truly cold in the first place. Heeling off his shoes and setting them on the shoe rack, he walked inside.

“I’m in the kitchen!” You called back. He chuckled to himself as he walked into the living room first, dropping off his hero-filled duffle on the couch, and then swiveled on his heel to head into the kitchen. As he passed under the doorway, he grabbed the bottom of his sweater, pulling it up over his head and completely off as it rested on his forearms- shaking out his white hair.

You looked over your shoulder at the movement and immediately went back to whatever it was you were doing. Shaking your head in small shakes with a quiet sigh.

“Do you really need to undress in the kitchen?”

“What?” He smirked, tossing the sweater on a barstool as he basically pranced his way to your side, slinging one arm around your waist loosely with the other coming to mess with the soapy water you were currently washing dishes in. He picked up a finger-load of suds and flicked them at you, making you try and crush his toes under your heels- to which you failed. “It’s hot in here.”

“That is probably the lamest excuse you've ever used to strip,” you teased as you kept doing your thing. Looking around the counter, he saw take-out containers. Before he could question them, you started talking again. “I really didn’t want to cook today, so I ordered in. I hope that's fine.” Touya shrugged.

He wouldn't want to come home after a day of work and cook either, so it worked for him.

Detaching from you, he danced over to the containers he knew were his and took them to the island where he slid into the barstool his sweater was on and sat down on it. As you finished up, you turned to finally take a proper look at your boyfriend after his day. Your eyebrows furrowed as your eyes narrowed.

Was that dried blood under his nose? And was his lip split?

“Touya?”

“Whuat,” he muttered with a trail of noodles hanging from his lips between chopsticks, muffling his voice. Ever the mannerless fool.

“Do we wanna talk about the blood on your face?”

He swallowed his bite as he started scrapping around for more noodles and fewer vegetables in his container. “No, not really.”

You rolled your eyes as you left the kitchen and him to his food. Digging around in the bathroom, you tossed a few things in a small basket and went back to the kitchen where he had successfully separated all his greens from his food and set them aside. You sat on the stool next to him as he finished.

“You know it’s not good for you if you don’t eat your vegetables.”

“Oh, boo-hoo. I ain’t eatin’ ‘em.” You spun to face him as you grabbed his knee and spun his stool to face you in turn. In your basket of bathroom items were things to clean up his face.

You took his chin in your hand and twisted his jaw back and forth to look for any other injuries. “I ain’t all that banged up. Just this,” he told you with a huff. Looking at his chest and shoulders and stomach- it seemed he was telling the truth. There were no other injuries.

You would hate to see the poor guy he got into it with if all Touya had was a split lip and... all three missing piercings? You hadn't actually noticed his piercings were completely gone.

“How in the world did you lose your piercings?”

“Some prick tore them out. Got pretty into it with ‘em over it.”

“Of course you did,” you rolled your eyes again as you emptied your basket and grabbed a cotton ball between the prongs of a pair of tweezers, and coated it in saline. “Look down,” you told him as his chin dipped to your instruction and you began to clean his piercing holes. You saw his lips twitch in a silent hiss as you cleaned them as gently as possible.

Touya didn’t move from your touch at all aside from a wince here or there. When you pulled back to clean the blood on his lip and skin, he kept as still as he could as he just looked down at you. Watching you work with your eyes focused and brows pulled in concentration always made him want to laugh at how cute you looked. You were a wonder to him.

A wonder on how he managed to snag you as his own.

When you finished, you were throwing your stuff back into the basket to take back into the bathroom when you felt a weight on your shoulder. Glancing without moving your head, you caught in the corner of your vision Touya’s nest of white hair brushing your cheek and chin. His forehead rested on your shoulder as you relaxed, your boney shoulder couldn’t be comfortable to lay on.

“You’ll want to leave any new piercing out of your nose for a bit.”

“Hmm,” he gave you a small hum, but you weren’t sure if he actually heard you or was just responding to respond. He had a bad habit of hearing but not exactly listening.

Moving your head as slowly as possible to not disturb whatever moment he was trying to create with you, you saw the digital numbers on the stove showing close to midnight. While it was rare to get a quiet and soft moment with Touya, you knew he couldn’t sit with his ass on a barstool and his head on your shoulder all night. He had to shower and get changed for bed where he can sleep on a comfortable mattress.

You rotated your arm causing his forehead to push further into you, sliding to where it rested against your neck, and his cheek pushed into your shoulder instead. You reached around and rubbed his back to which he hummed at- pleased with the touch. His skin was always so warm, it almost made you envious with each shiver you would get from the chilled winter air.

“Touya,” you softly called to not drill a nail into the peace of the kitchen. He said nothing. He didn’t even hum at you, but you knew he was listening. “We have to get up. You need a shower and sleep.”

“Can’t we stay like this a while longer?” You almost gave in but looked at the clock again. As far as you knew, he had to go back to work tomorrow so he needed to get into bed asap. It pulled at your heart, but you couldn't let him stay up any later than necessary.

“No, we can’t,” you let him down easily with a soft voice and with your hand still trailing up and down along his spine. “Come on,” you shrug, “up.”

He groaned as he sat up and slid from his stool, you doing the same as you grabbed your basket of things to put back in the bathroom. Touya followed you as he rubbed at his neck and silently let out a yawn he tried hiding from you just so he couldn’t avoid admitting you were right and that he needed to go to sleep.

As you were putting things back where they belonged, Dabi had opened the door of the wide, standing, glass shower and turned the water on- waiting for the temperature to be perfect. He looked over his shoulder, seeing you putting back the saline behind the mirror in the medicine cabinet. He took the chance when the mirror was away from him and you to sneak up behind you, the running shower water masking his footsteps.

He slowly reached around your head, shutting the cabinet as the mirror swung back to face you, Touya behind you. He dropped his arm over your shoulder and lowered his head to kiss the back of yours, his other arm wrapping lazily over your chest.

“Shower with me,” he cooed, dying his voice in honey to get you to join him without a fight. When you agreed, the shit-eating grin he had on his stupid face made you want to pull on his bottom lip and reopen the split in it or maybe force open his mouth and rip out the bar in his tongue.

He always got what he wanted and it was so not fair.

After promising no funny business in the shower, getting out, drying off, and getting ready for bed, Touya was insistent that the thermostat be turned down to 68F which was absolutely not going to happen. That was way too cold for the middle of the night in the middle of winter! He may be a walking space heater, but you weren’t.

Except, when you crawled into bed, you puffed and pouted because of course he always got his way. The temperature in the dark house was a chilly 68F and you were bundled in blankets- sulking.

“Oh, don’t be such a baby,” he laughed as he yanked the blanket that was tucked around you away to slither his way beside you instead. As he tangled his legs with yours he was immediately pulling you closer to him by the back of your knees. One of his arms under your head to curl his wrist inward to scratch the back of your head and the other around your side to rub your back. You suddenly understood.

He just wanted to lay as close as possible to you and not verbally say it. You tried containing your small laughter at his attempt at being coy.

“What?” He groaned as he shut his eyes, trying to get sleep to come to him. You dug your face into his neck, which he happily accepted as he pushed his cheek against your forehead in return.

“Nothing,” you told him.

“Just go to sleep.”

When the next morning rolled around and Touya’s phone had begun to ring for the fourth time, you had pried his arm off you and looked over his shoulder. The screen was showing his father calling him and as you rubbed your eyes and reached over to answer it for him- since he slept like a log- your wrist was caught and you were shoved back down into his chest.

Touya, who had been awake for some time now, was well aware he was exceptionally late to the agency and no he was in no rush to get there any time soon. The old man can call all he wants- he wasn’t going in just yet. There was a reason the old man was the only member of his family to not know his address.

Endeavor can still suck it.

-x-x-x-

a/n: for some reason the image of prohero touya coming home to just coze with his partner after another day just popped in my brain and has been relentlessly curb-stomping me into an early grave

[poisonedapples]

Patton’s Home For Traumatized Kids - Chapter Five

Bad Memories Don’t Erase

Chapter Summary: Roman tags along with Logan and Virgil to hang out at their friend’s house.

First Chapter Previous Chapter Story Masterlist

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of past abuse, stealing, and one inappropriate joke

Word Count: 4,008

Taglist: @shade-romeo, @grayson-22, @pixelated-pineapple, @acrobaticcatfeline, @astrozei, @edupunkn00b, @princey-7258, @eternalmoonlight19, @remy-the-lemon-berry, @look-ma-im-on-tv, @mariniacipher, @bigwendymonster, @nonbinary-octopus

Notes: This chapter’s a little short, but the next one is gonna be really long, so hopefully that makes up for it

On Sunday the next day, Patton finally took Roman to buy his gym clothes. Roman was trying to hide a goofy smile while sitting in the back seat, desperate to not get his hopes up while also ecstatic his plan was working so far. He was going to have Patton stay in the car while Roman shopped for clothes! This had never worked on his dad before!

By the time Patton finally parked the car in the parking lot of the store, Roman’s chest felt weighted from his anxiety, waiting to see Patton’s final verdict. So long as he didn’t change his mind now, then Roman was in the clear. He hoped to be in the clear.

“Alright, kiddo,” Roman’s heart stopped as Patton pulled out his wallet and gave him some money. “Forty dollars should be more than enough for some pairs of gym pants and shirts. Give me back all the change when you come back, okay?”

“I will! Promise!” Roman wanted to jump for joy. It was working!

“Text me when you’re checking out so you don’t surprise me, and if you see something else you might want, just text me before you buy it so I know. Tell me if you have any issues, okay?”

“Okay!”

Patton smiled. “Go on then, kiddo.”

Roman practically leaped out the door to skip his way to the front entrance of the clothing store, two twenty dollar bills crumbled in his pocket. He got away with it! No parents staring him down while he changed outfits!

Roman walked into the store and tried to hide the skip in his step. With no parents to watch him, he could buy what he actually wanted to wear, no tight pants and scoop neck shirts. No, Roman wanted to look like his real goal. His goal of being a blob of cloth that vaguely resembled a human.

Granted, he’d mostly gotten there. His aunt replaced all of his wardrobe, so his current clothes were a lot more comfortable to wear even if they weren’t very fashionable. Mostly bright colored t-shirts and pants, maybe some shorts if they were able to reach down far enough. Maybe once he was more comfortable with himself he could actually test out more styles, but for now, oversized clothes were all he could handle.

Roman’s walk sped up slightly when his eyes landed on the men’s athletic section. He had to be quick with this, he didn’t want Patton getting impatient and coming in to check on him. Roman looked through the shorts and shirt sizes, easily finding a size up for a couple shirts while heavily struggling on the shorts. Roman groaned. It was always the shorts that caused the issue, they were always too high up. What if he was sitting down and the pant leg rode up too far? No, Roman refused to get something like that willingly.

Roman took all the athletic shorts that could fit him and held them up in front of his legs. Most of them only made it to his lower thigh, but he managed to find two shorts that made it to right below his knee. Roman smiled and bounced on his toes, grabbed his items and rushed to find a dressing room. Once he did, he rushed into the first empty area he saw and locked the door. The mirrors on the walls and gaps in the door made it hard for him to change comfortably, so instead Roman tried to press himself against the very corner of the room when he was changing.

Between the six shirts and two pants Roman found, he was pretty happy with most of his choices. Thankfully, the long shorts looked fine, so Roman hung them up on a hook with a sign over it saying I’m buying this! and considered it a success. However, when it got time to look at the shirts, only three of them were good enough for purchase. The white one he grabbed was practically see-through, and the other two had a scratchy inside material that Roman couldn’t stand, so they got put on the reject hook while the other three passed the test. 

For a rushed shopping visit, Roman was pretty pleased with his choices. Two shorts might not be enough for five days worth of classes, but maybe Roman could keep one pair in his locker until it started to stink. Which might be a little gross, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Roman exited the dressing room and put his rejected shirts on a rack outside, carrying his other items to the checkout area. Before he got in line, he looked at all the price tags and added them up in his head best he could. The shirts were about six dollars each, and the shorts were a little over five after tax. Which means, adding up the extra cents, he’d have to pay twenty nine dollars for the clothes in total. Considering Patton gave him forty dollars, this was plenty.

Roman hesitated for a second. He stuffed his hand into his pocket to feel the money in the palm of his hand while he thought about his options. If he told Patton the truth, Roman would give him eleven dollars and there would be no issues. Patton might let him do this again next time they go shopping, too. But also…Roman had no backup plan. He was stuck with Patton with nowhere to go if things went wrong.

His aunt told him that Roman could always go back to her house if a guardian was abusing him, and he had every intention to take her up on that offer the second the opportunity arose. But even if Roman walked to her house on foot, he had no money for food during that trip. She lived so far away from him now, there was no way to get to safety without a dollar to his name. But if he stole some from Patton, then Roman could have a serious issue on his hands.

Roman slowly walked up to the check out area and handed the teenage worker the clothes. As she scanned all the items with a satisfying beep, Roman felt himself getting antsy. There’s no guarantee Patton will let me do this again. I’ve already gotten away with so much, and the more time I spend around him, the more danger I’m in. But if Patton notices I stole from him, he could be furious. Is there even a right answer here?

“Twenty nine dollars and thirty two cents.” The cashier said cheerfully. Roman handed her the money and she put it in the register, then handed Roman a bunch of coins, two five dollar bills, and a one dollar. She smiled. “Would you like a receipt?”

“Uh, no thank you.”

When the receipt printed, the cashier tore it out and threw it in the trash behind her. “Have a nice day.”

“You too.” Roman squeaked, rushing away from the register to stare at the money. Apparently they ran out of ten dollar bills, because the money was split perfectly for taking without it being obvious. Roman considered this a sign to take his chance. He put a five dollar bill and a quarter in his left pocket and shoved the rest in his right. It wasn’t much, but he could build it up. This was only the beginning.

Roman walked out of the store and tried to act normal instead of anxious. Worst case scenario, he’d say he forgot to bring out the rest and give Patton the other bills. Giving away the quarter also would be too obvious, but he could get away with stealing that at least. When he made it to Patton's car, Roman opened the back seat and tossed his clothes next to him.

“Hey, kiddo!” Patton greeted, “Got any extra cash to give me?”

“Uh, yeah, here.” Roman dug into his right pocket to grab half the money and handed it to him. Patton put the coins in his pocket and put the two bills in his wallet. He didn’t seem to consider how much Roman gave him, instead he started backing out of the driveway and got distracted while reversing. Roman let out a quiet sigh of relief.

He felt the five dollars still stored in his pocket. He got away with it. For now.

***

“We’re home!” Patton announced as he and Roman stepped inside. Logan and Virgil were both lying on the couch, and Logan perked up from his spot.

“Wonderful. We wanted to ask both of you a question.” Logan said.

Patton seemed intrigued. “What question?”

“Can we go to Janus’ house, Pat?” Virgil asked.

“Oh, of course, kiddos! Do you know when you might be back?”

Virgil thought about it. “Probably at six before dinner.”

“Perfect! Just text me if that changes so I don’t worry, okay?”

“We will.” Logan reassured, “And Roman, would you like to come with us?”

Roman tilted his head to the side. “Me? I don’t even know who Janice is.”

Virgil sunk into the couch more. “Friend of ours. Has a snake, talks a lot about philosophy and books. Acts like a tired underaged wine aunt.”

“Right, well, still. Isn’t it a little strange for me to tag along to a stranger's house?” Roman pointed out.

“Janus wouldn’t mind, I’m sure.” Logan said. “Of course, you don’t have to, we simply figured you would like the invitation so you’re not the only one left out.”

Roman’s eyes widened when Logan said that. Wait, shit, if Logan and Virgil are going to this girl’s house, then Roman will be here. Alone. With Patton. Until six in the afternoon.

Roman’s mood change was almost instant. “Well then, perhaps I should go! Make new friends and establish bonds, or whatever!”

Virgil smirked. “Sweet. It’s a short walk, just a block away. Just let us grab our shoes and we can head out.”

“I’ll tell Janus we’ll be bringing a third party.”

Roman let out a breath of relief. As Virgil and Logan grabbed whatever they needed, Roman set his new bag of clothes in his room next to his backpack. He’d have to remember to put some boxers in there before tomorrow morning, too.

Roman felt the five dollars in his pocket again. He took the money and hid it deep in his backpack in a hidden pocket he hoped wasn’t too easy to find. Satisfied with that for now, Roman stepped back outside of his room and waited for the others.

Once everyone was situated, Virgil called out to let Patton know they were leaving the house and then closed the door. Logan and Virgil did most of the talking as they walked while Roman just listened, following behind them and letting the two lead the way.

“Oh, and Roman,” Logan suddenly said during a point of silence, “Another one of our friends may also show up later at Janus’ house. He said he might be coming, so we’ll see.”

Roman shrugged. “Sounds fine to me.”

“Alright.”

No one said anything else after that on the walk. After a while, Virgil and Logan stopped in front of a house and started walking up the driveway to the front door. As Virgil knocked on the door, Roman stood awkwardly off to the side until someone answered.

It wasn’t long before the door swung open, showing a teenage kid with a large birthmark under his left eye. He rested his elbow on the top of the black and yellow cane next to him and smirked. Was he the brother, perhaps?

“I’ve been expecting you.” He said menacingly.

“‘Sup, fucker.” Virgil greeted.

“Hello, Janus.”

Wait, what? Against his better judgment, Roman forced himself to stand in front of Logan to face Janus. “Wait, your name is Janice?” He asked.

Janus put his hand on his face. “Janus. It’s Janus. J-a-n-u-s, not the old lady name Janice.”

Roman felt his face grow hot. “…Oh. Well, uh…”

Janus rolled his eyes and held the door open wider. “Just come inside.”

Virgil was the first to step in, with Logan following after while Roman hesitated. He made an awful first impression, maybe he should just walk around the block for a while instead-

“Come on, my arm is tired.” Janus coaxed. Roman felt too awkward to walk away, so he instead sucked it up and stepped inside the house with everyone else.

The house was quite nice. The walls were painted dark and the carpet was red, but it looked nice in a Victorian era kind of way. On the living room coffee table were piles of fabric and a sewing machine, seemingly making something that looked like a suit. Janus took the cane he was holding and threw it onto the couch. Well, apparently it was just a part of the outfit.

Virgil motioned to all the fabric on the table. “Fuck are you making now, dude?”

“I’m making the refined villain look of my dreams.”

“Nice. When do you think you’ll finish it?”

“Possibly tomorrow. I’ll start on it again after school.”

“Do you make your own clothes?” Roman asked, hoping to distract himself from his previous embarrassment.

Janus smiled slightly. “Less clothes, more costumes. Mostly for myself, but sometimes I make them for the high school’s theater when I’m feeling generous.”

“Oh, that sounds fun!”

“Wanna see Janus’ costume closet?” Virgil asked.

Roman shrugged. “If he wants me to.”

“Oh yeah, just talk about me like I’m not here.” Janus rolled his eyes and motioned for everyone to follow him. He had a downstairs family room with a closet off to the side. Once everyone was downstairs, Janus opened it and let Roman look inside.

“…Woah.” Roman looked at all the costumes, astonished and full of wonder. A lot of them were very extravagant, like they were specifically designed for a dramatic person, so Roman felt a calling toward them. He took a few of them off their hangers to look at; roaring twenties inspired suits and a black dresses with fancy gold finishes. Roman ran his hand on the fabric like they were fancy relics.

“They are quite high-quality.” Logan said, “Costume design is certainly one of Janus’ greatest skills.”

“I can see that.” Roman whispered.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Don’t make his ego bigger than it already is.”

“Oh no, please do continue, I’m designed to be the center of attention.” Janus smirked.

Roman laughed and put the costumes back on the rack. It seemed like him and Janus were pretty similar in personality, just on opposite ends of the spectrum. Both dramatic artists, except one likes to add that with tons of sarcasm. He could see them getting along quite easily.

“Also, Janus,” Virgil said while looking at his phone, “Rat bastard says he’s coming over. He’ll be here in ten.”

“Ugh, fine. I was getting used to the silence.” Janus sighed.

“…Who’s rat bastard?” Roman asked.

“Friend of ours.” Virgil replied, “You’ll meet him in a bit. He’s a rat bastard. Smells vaguely of cheese.”

“…Attractive.”

“You get used to it.” Janus shrugged. He then smirked at Roman like he got an idea. “Would you like to see my snake?”

Roman’s eyes lit up. “Yes!”

Janus led them all upstairs to his bedroom, Roman following last in the line so he could keep Janus’ door cracked open. As he stepped inside, he noticed a very large cage on the wall to his right. It was very long with lots of wood decorations spread across the container, with a fluorescent lightbulb above it. Roman looked around in the enclosure to try and spot the snake.

Before he could find it, Janus opened the top and stuck his hand in the cage. The snake climbed up his hand onto his arm, and as Janus stuck him out for Roman to see, Roman jumped back.

Janus rolled his eyes. “He’s a corn snake, he’s not known for hurting people.”

Roman still looked at it from a distance. The snake was large enough that Janus had to hold him with both hands, as well as being a mesmerizing yellow color. Roman never had a friend with a pet snake before. “…What’s his name?”

“Lawrence.”

“Nerd.” Virgil called out.

Logan smiled. “I think it is a wonderful name. Lawrence Kohlberg developed the theory on moral development, the very basis for ethical behavior.”

“Nerds.”

“You’re very mature, Virgil.”

Roman ignored them. “I think he’s cool. How old is he?”

“About five. I’ve had him for a while now.”

A buzz came from Virgil’s phone, making him check it and read the message. “Rat bastard says he’s outside your door.” He announced.

Janus didn’t seem rushed. “He can get in on his own.”

Roman laughed, and Janus set Lawrence back in his enclosure so he could bask underneath the heat lamp. Roman still watched his movements from inside the cage. “I wish I had a pet.”

“Patton would get you a dog in seconds if you asked.” Logan suggested.

Roman shook his head. “It’s fine, I won’t ask.” He didn’t really know what kind of pet he even wanted, and besides, it’s not like he’d be able to keep it once he leaves Patton’s house. There was no point.

Suddenly, a loud stomping came from the stairs outside Janus’ bedroom. Roman yelped and ran to hide behind Janus in the corner of the room, but the others didn’t react. 

Roman sputtered. “What the-”

Before Roman could finish, a large bang came as someone kicked open the door and let it smack into the wall.

“I’m back by unpopular demand!”

“Hello, Remus.”

Roman completely froze up at the sound of that name. He turned around to look at the person that just busted down Janus’ bedroom door, a kid with messy hair and peach fuzz for a mustache, ripped jeans in the summer with a cast boot on his right foot.

Roman felt himself choke on air as he processed what was in front of him.

“Slugs are goopy like jello! So jello is made of slugs, duh!”

“Remus, that’s gross! No one would make food out of slugs!”

“What’s up, fuckers!” Remus announced. “I’m back from the pits of hell! Also known as the emergency room.”

Roman didn’t say anything, only stared at him in disbelief. Remus’ voice was a lot different now. He’d hit puberty, so the pitch had dropped a lot from what Roman was used to. A tuft of his hair was white, also. Roman couldn’t tell if it was dye or a condition.

That piece of hair and Remus’ mustache were the only things that made them both look apart now.

“What actually happened?” Logan asked. “You never told us specifics.”

“I broke my foot sucking too much-”

“Remus.” Janus warned.

“Fine, fine. I tripped trying to run up some steps and my fall didn’t look badass at all. Don’t tell people that though. If anyone asks, I broke it running from the cops.”

Janus nodded and smirked. “Noted.”

“We brought a third foster brother, also.” Virgil noted. Roman stopped breathing.

“Oh, really? Shit, I fuckin missed everything!” Roman looked in the corner trying to avoid Remus noticing him, but it was never that easy. “Why hello, welcome to our humble- …Oh, fuck.”

Remus tilted his head to make eye contact with Roman, and the surprise on Remus’ face was something Roman would never forget. He seemed genuinely baffled, like nothing in the world would have prepared him for what he saw. Roman wanted to cry.

I wanted to leave behind these people.

“…Roman?” Remus finally said, “Dude, holy fuck, I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“Wait,” Virgil staggered, “You know each other already?”

“He’s my fucking cousin!” Remus exclaimed. “Come on, look at us, we’re only a little related but we look like twins!”

Logan turned to Roman. “Is this true?”

Roman could feel the tears ready to burst. His throat was scratchy, but he tried to talk anyway. “…I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Come on, Princey, don’t be shy!” Remus teased. “We used to be best friends, let everyone believe we were twins until our moms called our shit out. Absolute bastard children- …wait. Wait a fucking second.”

“What is it?” Janus asked.

Remus turned to Virgil and Logan with a shocked and confused face. “…You said he’s your foster brother?”

Logan nodded. “That is correct.”

Remus turned to Roman, seemingly at a loss for words. “…Dude, the fuck? What happened?”

Roman looked at the floor, gripping onto his arm so hard it’d be a miracle if there weren’t marks later. “I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I mean, I know I haven’t seen you since your mom fucked off to Neverland, but what happened to your dad? He’s still alive and shit isn’t he? The hell happened?”

“I said I don’t want to fucking talk about it!” Roman seethed, grinding his teeth together as he practically growled out that sentence.

Virgil flinched violently. “Roman-”

“Whatever!” Roman pushed Remus off to the side and kicked the door fully open, storming his way down the stairs despite the sounds of people yelling for him to come back. Roman stomped out the front door and took a sprint for it down the block, not caring if he had to be alone with Patton, so long as he wasn’t here.

“I bet you would eat a slug!”

“No I wouldn’t! Liar!”

“Boys, boys!” Roman’s mother laughed, crouching down to meet their eye level from their place sitting in the grass. “No eating slugs. Be nice to the bugs or we’ll go back inside.”

“Yeah, Remus!”

Remus huffed. “I’m not doing anything!”

“Not yet!”

Roman’s mother laughed again. “I’m going to help Uncle André with dinner. But I better not hear a fight, okay?”

“Okay!” Roman promised, watching as his mom went back inside his uncle’s house into the kitchen. Roman and Remus continued to play in the grass by looking at bugs and telling stories to each other, making Roman smile more than he has in a long time. He always loved going to Remus’ house. His dad never came with them, so he and his mom were always happier.

“How come we never go to your house?” Remus eventually asked after a few minutes of playing. Roman stuck his tongue out.

“‘Cause our house is tiny and the backyard isn’t as cool.”

“Still! When you come over, you never bring Uncle Theo!”

“Good!” Roman defended, “Dad’s boring so he doesn't getta come!”

“I like him! He’s fun and nice and always brings chocolate!”

“He’s awful!” Roman covered his mouth after he blurted that out. Remus gave him a look.

“He’s not awful!”

Roman looked over to the glass sliding door. His mom was in there, he could see her, but she couldn’t hear him. Maybe he could get away with it. He could tell Remus a secret and his mom would never find out.

Roman hesitantly took his hands away from his mouth. His tone grew to be a lot softer. “…He is, though.”

Remus tilted his head to the side like a dog. “What makes him awful?”

“…Promise not to tell anyone?”

Remus leaned in closer. “Uh huh!”

“No one at all, ever?”

“Triple quadruple promise!”

Roman looked back at his mom. She wasn’t paying attention to him, seemingly talking to his uncle and pouring juice into cups. Roman hesitated for a moment. “…My dad-”

“Boys! Dinner’s ready!” Roman’s mom called out, making Roman jump almost a foot in the air. Both of them got off of the grass to walk inside, but before they did, Remus turned to Roman again.

“Your dad what?”

“…Nevermind.” He missed his chance. Remus would never find out, and Roman never told anyone for another five years.

Roman ran faster down the street at the memory, fighting back the tears in his eyes. It was fine. Roman was fine.

He never wanted to talk to Remus again.

[withoneheadlight]

Towards the limits of maps

~~

Hopper offers him a job, afterwards.

“It’s not much, but It’ll help you get by, pay the bills, ‘till you find something better”

It’s at the station. No less. Consists basically of tidying up the office and replacing the tank from the water machine and keeping the bathrooms clean and generally “Getting some heavy lifting out of our dear Flo’s shoulders” and. The old Billy Hargrove. The one that used to swagger his way around and was all charm and purposeful winks and still hadn’t been permanently scarred from the inside out would’ve gag at the mere thought of it. Accepting a job from the Chief of Police. The Hawkins, Indiana , Chief of Police. But this Billy has trouble keeping his spine from crumbling down on his best days and feels stupidly, shamefully thankful for the way Jim Hopper knows without asking. Understands, without Billy having to say a word so,

He takes the job.

Vacuums the cars. Mops the floors. Buys yellow-bright rubber gloves so he doesn’t actually gag as he scrubs off the toilets. Does his best to get that weight off Flo’s shoulders and Flo―

Flo.

Smiles at him radiant . A warm “ Good morning, dear!” every day ( every , single, day). Asks him how he likes coffee once and then remembers . Insists on still brewing it herself because “I’m kind of an egoist, you see. Love to see people’s faces when I bring it to them. It’s like liquid happiness. Makes people beam . Probably because it’s, you know, technically a drug but― ’guess everybody needs their some” grinning and nudging at Billy’s ribs with a strength that makes him wince like she’s seventeen instead of sixty “But I also kinda like to water it a bit and forget to warm it up if they get me real pissed”.

Flo.

Teaches Billy how to use the squeegee so washing the windows takes him two hours instead like, two days. Makes him type whatever notes have to be typed because “It’s a good skill, boy. And you’ve to start thinking about your future”. Makes him laugh until he goes breathless and has to brace his ribs from the shock of laughter but also from the timid, feather-like feeling of actual, genuine happiness and from yeah, some little more elbowing that kind of makes his chest bloom with warmth. Flo asks him how his day’s going. If he’s feeling well. Brings the back of her hand to his forehead if his eyes look “A little too bright, sugar. Think you should go home early today”. Calls him―calls him sugar. Like Billy’s sweet . Worth having around. Worth “Making my wrinkles even deeper, hon. I swear” Has this effect on Billy, makes him want to take care of her. To be nice . Polite. Better . Earn that sugar she keeps on putting on his coffee and right after his name.

Flo.

Smiles at  him sad and wish you could have it, kid. The day she notices. Two months into the job. Steve Harrington showing up for the fourth time that week. Something about a ‘Plan’, about being ready ‘Just in case’ and a wholla lot more of somethings neither him or Hopper share with him because Billy’s too fragile or maybe too potentially dangerous or maybe just― too blurred into his periphery. Steve Harrington. With his movie-star hair and his movie-star stance and his flashy-white smile and his flashy-white nikes Billy shouldn’t like this much. Leaning on the reception counter to flirt with Flo, tease Billy about how much more cute he looks with his now longer hair. Making it feel like he’s also flirting. With him. Pretending to check him out with a slow, deliberate up-and-down-and-down-and-up stare. Making Billy both want to punch him straight into the nose and let his eyes wander, wander, wonder. Up the unbuttoned collar of his preppy-in-pink lapels-raised polo. Up the trail of dark fuzz coming out and those dots ascending in twos. Trace their route with the tips of his fingers. Two on the hollow of Steve’s throat. Two over the beat of his pulse. Two on the apple of his cheek and then just― fall. Pads on his lower lip and tugging. A wordless question. ‘Can I? Can I? Open your mouth with my mouth. Find out what lies beyond the limit of maps?’.

But Steve. He’s a daydream. An illusion. Will never become real, for someone like him. So he keeps on doing the job. One day at a time. One foot after the other. And the money pays for staying out of Neil’s. Pays for having Max and her flock of nerds over on Saturday nights and those dead hours of Sundays. Pays for having something resembling a life enough for Billy to keep on going. Think about that future Flo keeps insisting on from time to time. Pays for some peace of mind.

Pays for the possibility that, after all, Billy is gonna survive all of this.

So winter passes, and then spring , over this supposedly “Just for a few weeks” ―job and now Billy’s attending the calls, some days, kinda playing the secretary, kinda “ Not much ‘till I retire, kid . So you might as well learn how it’s done. In case you’d consider to―you know. Take it”. Feeling good, and maybe, perhaps. Happy. Feeling like life’s not a burden anymore, at least, when Flo feeds him homemade donuts and drags him into a shopping rampage to get a few things so she can help him to “Make that apartment you live in look more like a home and less like an abandoned mausoleum” and it does , in the end, look more like a home, like ‘A Billy Hargrove lives here’ instead of a ‘Here lies a Billy Hargrove’ and Flo says “I told you” , success making her bold enough to make him buy some new clothes, buy him some more, assault the black hole of Billy’s wardrobe and dig out his old leather jacket, saying “ You look gorgeous, sugar. You should wear this again” making  Billy get a little too emotional, a little too trying not to drop his feelings so they don’t go scattering all over the place, when he asks her,

“How could I― repay you. For all of this”

Truly meaning all, meaning me, when he says this. But all Flo does is snort, shake her head, pat his cheek and tell him,

“Billy, sugar. You repay me every day”

But then her face lights up, all old-lady mischief behind impossibly big glasses. She looks down at the jacket, up at Billy, and then,

“But I’ve heard it’s been a while since you went on a date”

So Billy snickers, ceremoniously puts his old dangling earring on. Invites Flo to popcorn and to that Cobra movie with Stallone. Laughs his ass off for the whole theater to hear from the second row, where he and Flo had to sit because “Can you believe it, sweetie? I can barely see the screen from here but he’s gonna arrest those men wearing his goddam sunglasses”.

It’s only after all the credits have rolled off, the room nearly empty, that Billy spots him. Walking down the steps from the top row, side by side with Robin Buckley. Smile growing and growing and blooming something wild as their eyes lock. Movie-star pretty and as unreachable as if he shared their same sky. And he’s― saying something. To Billy. Something including a “Hey” and a “Glad to see you too, Flo” and then a “Really?” when Flo explains to him that no, she didn’t trip , that’s not the reason why’s she leaning on Billy’s arm “But thank you for caring, hun” . Then she’s explaining the real reason. At length. Going on and on and on about how “This sweetheart here. He’s so caring. Keeps on spoiling me to no end” while Billy feels blood rushing to his face and thinks that they must be there all the time, waiting for when the light is right, just like now: that golden crown and that royal smile. And the seats of The Hawk are red and velvet and the projector’s still running behind him, bathing his body in a sunshine glow and Billy might be feeling a bit dazed, a bit shot through the heart.

It was love at first sight, then. Now. Every single time.

That’s why he’s not fully functioning, not fully at the reigns of himself when Steve glances back at him. Grins. Says.

“Gosh, Hargrove. Makes me wish you’d treat me that well”

And. You see. Billy’s been in Flo-mode for months on end. And Flo-mode means getting the calls with a “Helloooooo!”. Adding dear or hun or sugar at the end of every phrase. Bringing Hooper his coffee and stir his half a spoon of sugar for him with a smile so big his six-am temper goes crashing into it. Hiding Powell’s nicotine menthols and putting the blame on Callahan while trying not to choke-chuckle as they bicker about it all day. Means joking about the daily crossword in the newspaper during lunch breaks. Means being around someone with whom billy can be light.

Means that, against all odds, the paper-thin skin of his scars might hold up, after all. Keep him alive inside. Means Billy’s become sweeter, indeed. Taken down his guard.

Means that, when Steve Harrington tilts his head to the side, all honey-coated eyes and waiting, Billy trips on what’s left of his swagger and falls hard on his knees and mumbles.

“I would. If you’d let me. I’d treat you like nobody else has”

And Steve. It’s minuscule. A work of art. The way those eyes widen just so. The way breath catches on his windpipe. The way that, apparently, it was this what it took, all along, Billy in front of him without his army. Not a conquer but,

A surrender.

His whole heart for the King of Hearts.

And then, Robin Buckley cackles.

Steve breathes out, says “Oh” and then “Wow” and the here and now seems to shake out of its stillness with him. And the damage must be serious because Flo’s hand is tightening around his forearm and she’s got that voice on, the one she uses when Randolph Ferguson calls drunk-as-a-skunk every Sunday morning at seven a.m “You should go to bed and sleep it off, honey” . Conciliatory. But what she’s sayings is “We maybe should get going, sweetheart” tugging slightly at him while Buckley’s laughter sets into a maniac grin even if she’s― not looking at him, but at Steve, drawling something in between her teeth, something with a ‘Told’ and a ‘You’ , but Flo’s very politely tugging harder, waving them away, damaging control at its best, because she knows , and she knows , that billy doesn’t need more breaking, so they’re almost at the door, running away, not unscathed but, almost when Steve,

Calls,

Calls him.

“Billy!” and he hasn’t moved an inch but he sounds out of breath, rasps a “Hey” and at first, Billy thought all he wanted was something shiny. A King. A Crown. A conquer. But then Steve Harrington looked at him with those eyes and Billy knew all he really wanted was to know how love looked written all over them.

So he turns. Sets his jaw. Squares himself to take the blow.

“Yeah?”

How he would look. Close enough to be reflected on them.

“Tomorrow. When you―. Want me to pick you up, when you get out?”

And Buckley’s eyes jump into Billy’s, now. Teeth biting at her grin through the inside of her cheeks. And Flo’s sighing her relief right by his ear. And they’re holding. These scars. They’re holding but also― he can feel it now, where skin used to be worn-out leather and now’s paper-thin, the way Steve might be, too. Wanting. Longing.

To let Billy part his lips with his.

And Billy’s― Static. Thunderstruck. But Flo says,

“At five. Sharp” and her fingers dig deeper on Billy’s forearm but now they’re not tugging away “I’ll make sure of it”

And then Steve smiles and it’s lovelovelove , at every fucking sight. Dimples deep and those two dots right by his check, one last step and then―

“It’s a date” he nods, and he’s what Princes Charming grows into, and Billy wants to ask him once and then remember , make him coffee every morning just so he can see that smile “Can’t wait to see if you meant those words”

(And he does. 

Black. One spoon of sugar. Takes it to their bed. Two years later. Wakes him up with a kiss, makes him smile, falls in love a little more.

In a few hours, they’ll be eating homemade donuts and making toasts at Flo’s retirement party. Billy’s planned on taking her on a date, afterwards.

“Hop’s offered me the job” he says, getting back under the covers and–

That smile .

 “And are you ― gonna take it?”

One of Billy’s favorite things, is that Steve can’t really contain it.

“ Well, I still mean what I said so. I guess I have to”

And then there’s lovelovelove , when Steve brings him to where the limits of maps are waiting, lovelovelove , where Billy’s reflected into his eyes)

[seita]

— don’t ask | hitoshi shinsou (m.)

pairing: hitoshi shinsou/f!reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut

wordcount: 𝟷𝟹𝟻𝟿𝟶

cw: roommate!au, sugar baby!au

tags: heavy pining, arguments, briefly ft.kaminari, rejection, possessiveness, jealousy, crying, dirty talk, pet names, dom!shinsou, fingering, riding, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, praise (?), marking, creampie, angst with a happy ending.

note: this is a thank you for 5k followers! i can’t believe i hit such a milestone in only like a month and a half! i appreciate the love and support everyone has given me and i promise to put out more quality content going forwarad!

— you thought it was strange a guy your age made such good money by seemingly doing nothing. whenever you would question him about his income, he’d grow defensive. once a month, a left the house for a few days; leaving to perform a mysterious job he didn’t want you to know about.

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© all content belongs to seita 2020. do not modify or repost.  

When you saw the flier for someone looking for a new roommate, you honestly thought it was one big scam. You assumed that the second you set up a meeting, you would be kidnapped and never seen again. 

Being a lowly college kid meant you didn’t have your sea legs in the adult world quite yet. Swamped with studies, horrible at managing your time and your stress levels, you were left a constant mess. So, your solution was to stick to studying for the most part and work part-time so the job didn’t take up too much of your time. 

Another genius idea you had was the age-old roommate situation. You started out looking for listings online for preferably Musutafu or Tokyo. Alas, you came up with nothing after a handful of weeks and were intending to give up. 

However, a stop by the grocery store changed everything. It was a flyer for someone looking for a roommate in an area of Tokyo that you knew to be pretty pricey. 

It was close enough to your college campus so you wouldn’t have to worry about a stupid commute. You thought it was too good to be true as you looked at the information stating you wouldn’t even need to pay rent. You’d simply have to split some bills and buy your own groceries. 

The idea of not having to shell out hundreds of dollars a month was appealing on its own; you’d definitely be able to save with a living situation like that. 

The logical side of you was weary, however. The entire thing could be a ploy to trick some unsuspecting victim, like yourself, into who knows what. 

Still, it probably wouldn’t hurt to contact the person just in case it wasn’t a trick. No harm in checking, you supposed. 

Tugging the flyer down from where it was pinned up on the bulletin board, you folded it up and tucked it away in the front pocket of your purse to take care of when you got home from classes. 

All of that led you to meeting one Hitoshi Shinsou. He was a tall, tired looking guy around your age. His most prominent feature was the fluffy mess of purple hair that was atop his head. When you first met him, he fixed you with a cold gaze ― his purple irises burning holes into you. And for a second you were sure that you were right on your hunch and you were never going to return home. 

Nothing of consequence happened, naturally, and instead he showed you the bedroom you would be using and handed you a key before sitting down on the couch to watch TV. The whole exchange was unlike anything you expected. When you questioned him he simply told you he’d get everything straight for you and that you could begin to move in whenever. 

So you did.

As expected of such an expensive apartment, the room you were given was great. It was roomy and nothing like you assumed you would wind up with. Most college students wind up with a shitty roommate, a one-bedroom apartment, and instant ramen for dinner every night. 

Instead you got the chillest roommate known to mankind. Shinsou barely even made a peep. Most of the time you found him relaxing in front of the TV watching murder documentaries. You did learn that the poor guy had insomnia and as a result was up almost every night. Sometimes you would catch him snoozing on the couch but that rarely lasted more than 2 or 3 hours before he was up and about once again. 

You did learn that the man was a lousy cook so he mostly lived on instant ramen before you moved in. Luckily for him, you enjoyed cooking and decided to be the one to make meals for the two of you. To say Shinsou was appreciative was an understatement. 

Simply put, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. 

And so bloomed an easy friendship with him. Shinsou made it easy to befriend, although he was a quiet guy he was funny and charismatic; the type of guy who probably had a lot of friends. 

You lived there for about a month when you noticed the first weird disappearance. 

You had been laying in bed, eyes closed as you slowly began to drift off to the white noise of your overhead fan. 

What lulled you from your daze was the beep of the alarm at the front door. Sitting up, you listened carefully only to hear a couple beeps and the click of the door shutting. 

Frowning, you got out of the bed and wrapped your blanket around your shoulders to shield yourself from the chilled apartment air. Your footsteps were silent as you padded your way to the entryway. You immediately noticed that Shinsou’s shoes were gone from where they should have been sitting beside the front door. 

You checked his bedroom to find that he was, indeed, not there. You simply assumed he had gone for a walk or to a convenience store or something since he couldn’t sleep and went back to bed. That was certainly not something uncommon for the insomniac you called a roommate. 

When you got up in the morning, however, you noticed he was still gone. 

You wandered into the kitchen, intending to open the fridge to start something for breakfast only to find a cute cat-themed sticky note plastered to the front of it. Written in your roommates sloppy handwriting was “I won’t be home for a few days.”

Short and to the point but still causing questions to arise in response. 

You had no choice but to carry on. You could text him and question him but you had a feeling you wouldn’t actually get any information. 

Two days was how long he was gone for. He turned on the second night, looking as tired as usual. 

“I’m home,” he called with a heavy sigh, kicking his shoes off before dropping the heavy duffle bag he carried to the floor. 

“Hey,” you greeted over the back of the couch, “I uh...made dinner but I didn’t make any for you. I didn’t know when you’d be home.”

“It’s fine, I already ate anyway,” he hummed, dropping his full weight onto the empty cushion beside you. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. 

You eyed him and decided to simply not ask about the hickey on his pale skin. 

The time ticked past midnight and you stood up, yawning as you stretched, “I’m heading to bed.”

“Alright,” he mumbled, finally stealing the remote from you, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Hey…” you paused at the entrance to the hallway, deciding to chance it, “Where did you go anyway?”

“...To work,” he replied, simply. 

His tone held a sense of finality to it, leaving no room for you to inquire exactly what that meant. So, with a final bid, you went to your bedroom. 

It was almost like deja vu, laying in bed as you fell asleep only to hear the beeping of that alarm. You sat up and climbed out of bed, intending to catch Shinsou before he was gone but as you reached the living room, you heard the front door click shut and he was gone. 

Sighing, you wandered to the kitchen to find another note like you’d seen last time stuck to the fridge. 

As you glanced at the calendar on the wall, you realized it was almost exactly a month since the last time he did this ― you remembered because he left on the 23rd and it was currently the 22nd. You could practically feel the dots forming but you had absolutely no way of connecting them. 

Deciding to retire to bed, you attempted to sleep but found yourself thinking of Shinsou. 

Two months in a row he vanished around the same time, in the middle of the night leaving only a note. Now that you thought about it, he didn’t seem to have a job ― he only said his disappearance was part of his job. But he came back with a hickey. 

Sighing, you rolled over and attempted to fall asleep. 

Two days later, he came home. 

“I’m back,” he grumbled. 

Immediately, you noted the aggravated tone to his voice. Sitting up from where you were sprawled out on the couch, you eyed him. Instead of just dropping his duffle bag like he had last time, he took it straight to the laundry room. 

As he disappeared into the kitchen, you got up and followed him. He was squatting on the floor, rummaging through the bag as he tossed out pieces of clothing. You leaned on the door jam with your arms folded on your chest. Whether or not he knew you were there, you didn’t know. 

“There’s some dinner left for you,” you said softly, watching him pause and look over his shoulder at you.

“I already ate,” he replied, voice cold. 

You frowned, standing up straight, “Alright, well…” you sighed, “I’ll wrap it up and put it in the fridge in case you get hungry tonight.”

He didn’t reply but you kept watching him. He moved to fully sit on the floor, stretching his legs out in front of him with a grunt. You noticed that he was separating the clothes into two piles. Closer inspection brought your attention to the price tags attached to the clothes in one pile. 

You found yourself wondering where he got those clothes from but you decided not to ask. He seemed to be in a rather sour mood. 

He left the new clothes on the floor and dumped the others into the washing machine. With quick efficiency, he started the cycle and stuffed the remaining clothes back into his bag. 

You backed up to allow him to leave the laundry room. His shoulders were stiff and his posture was tense. It was a complete 180 from how you usually saw him. 

“You um...you alright?”  you finally asked when he sat down on the couch. 

He barely spared you a glance before propping his feet up on the coffee table, turning the TV on. Realizing you weren’t getting a response, you attempted to brush off the brief anger that flashed through you and instead went to the kitchen to clean everything up. 

You didn’t know why he was being so rude to you ― it’s not like you did anything to him. Deciding to just head to your bedroom to study, you shut off the kitchen light and skirted behind the couch to avoid getting in his way of the TV. 

He didn’t say a word as you disappeared down the hallway. 

As opposed to last time, his ‘work’ seemed to have not gone too well this time around. At least the last time, he was just tired and feeling lazy. 

You could still hear the TV going when you put all your stuff away and crawled into bed. 

The next morning, you awoke with a sigh. Sitting up, you stretched until you felt your joints pop.

As you wandered out of your bedroom, you heard the shower going, indicating Shinsou was still around. Not that you were expecting any different. 

You fixed a quick, simple breakfast for you and Shinsou, hearing the shower turn off as you finished. Wiping your washed hands on your pants, you made your way to the bathroom.

You only got to knock on the door once before it was yanked open. Suddenly, your mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. 

He stood there, his usual fluffy hair flattened and hanging haphazardly around his face. He wore his usual bored expression despite the fact he was standing there, dripping wet with only a towel around his waist. Immediately, you got a whiff of his body wash and shampoo, making you swallow thickly. 

Fuck, he smelled really good. You always thought so, when he sat on the couch beside you, you could always smell that delicious, musky scent of his body wash mixed with the spice of his cologne. But freshly washed with it, you were nearly salivating at the smell. 

“Um…” you swallowed thickly, tearing your gaze away from the well built muscles under those baggy clothes he always wore, “B-Breakfast is ready…”

“Okay,” he mumbled, moving to skirt around you. 

You sighed, assuming he was still in a shit mood again. Running a hand through your hair, you shook the delectable sight of him fresh out of the shower from your mind. As you went to go back to the kitchen, a large hand grappled around your wrist. 

“Hey,” he mumbled. You looked over your shoulder to see him nervously rubbing the back of his neck, a habit you’d seen numerous times before, “I’m sorry...about yesterday.”

“Huh?” you raised a brow, trying to ignore how big his hand was around your wrist. 

“I was in a shit mood and I took it out on you,” he explained, “So I’m sorry about that.”

“Oh,” you relaxed slightly and smiled, realizing he was actually in a decent mood today, “It’s okay.”

He gave you his own relieved smile, making your heart lurch in your chest at the sight. It was rare to see any other expression beyond that tired, bored look he always wore. Finally releasing his hold on your wrist, he spoke again, “Let me get dressed and I’ll come eat.”

“Alright,” you nodded, biting your lip as he turned his back to you. As he walked you could see the way the muscles flexed under the skin. 

When he finally vanished through his bedroom door, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Shaking your head you moved back to the kitchen intending to stuff your face to forget about how hot Hitoshi Shinsou really was. 

Before, you thought he was good looking. Usually dark circles were unbecoming but they looked almost at home on his face. His skin was nearly flawless and looked soft to the touch ― you’d seen the skincare products housed in his cabinet. It was expensive shit too. Seriously, what was the guy's job?

That thought had your mind wandering back to the monthly disappearances. 

The chair scraped against the floor as he came back ― wearing a baggy t-shirt and black sweats. He immediately dug in and began to eat. 

“So...I have to ask,” he paused, brows coming together in a scowl as you uttered those words.

“Don’t ask,” he mumbled, shaking his head.

“I just wanted to ask...if this is a monthly thing. I’ve only been here for 2 so...I just wanted to make sure,” you clarified, watching his shoulder relax. He seemed extremely defensive over any questions related to his ‘job’, you noted. 

“Yeah. Once at the end of the month I leave for two days to work,” he answered simply, obviously avoiding giving any more information that you could feed off of. 

He was smart at least. 

The sun finally dipped below the horizon and the two of you were sitting on the couch watching TV. He had some documentary on but truthfully you weren’t paying a whole lot of attention to it. 

For some reason, your mind kept bringing you back to the sight that morning of Shinsou. As you looked at him sitting beside you, arm tossed casually over the back of the couch as he slouched with his legs spread, you found yourself admiring him. 

He had a sharp jaw and pretty lips. A look lower, your eyes landed on his hands ― long, pretty fingers with prominent veins beneath the pale skin. 

Suddenly, his sharp gaze cut from the TV to you and you found yourself locked in a gaze with him for a split second before you broke away to look at the TV once more. In your peripheral, you swear you saw a smirk crossing his face. 

But he didn’t comment and for that, you were thankful. 

You bid him goodnight and as usual, he stayed up. You began to wonder if the man even tried to sleep anymore. 

You stepped into the bathroom, warning your roommate that you were taking a shower. He shouted back a simple ‘okay’ before you shut the door. 

You stepped under the stream of water after stripping, the steam of the hot water filling the bathroom and relaxing your muscles. You tipped your head back to wet your hair, humming to yourself. 

You eyed Shinsou’s body wash sitting in the purple caddy handing on a hook on the wall. It brought you back to how nice he smelled when he was close to you. When you could feel his body warmth radiating off of him. You would look at him, his shoulders broad and his body warm and inviting. It was nearly impossible to resist the urge to cuddle yourself into his chest. 

You wondered what it would be like to lay against him, his arms wrapped around you as he softly stroked your skin. Maybe he would press a soft kiss to your forehead ― the idea alone made you melt. 

Realizing you had lost yourself in thought, you hurried to finish your shower and get to bed. 

You fell asleep with Shinsou on your mind that night. 

Shinsou’s third monthly work time finally rolled around once again. This time, you stayed up late so Shinsou had no choice but the interact before he left. You were hoping to maybe get more hints about what it is he did. 

He shut his bedroom door, hoisting his duffle bag over his shoulder with a grunt. You were surprised to see him in actual clothes ― rather nice ones as well. 

His jeans fit him perfectly and the button down shirt he wore was tucked in, showing off his lean figure. The belt buckle on his jeans indicated it was name brand and you found yourself wondering how much his job even paid. 

“I’ll be home same as usual,” he mumbled, bending down to slide his shoes on at the door. He looked so good doing just a simple task and you found your heart racing in your chest. His shoulders were accented so well by his shirt. The sleeves were rolled up halfway on his forearms and there was an expensive looking watch on one of his wrists. 

Butterflies erupted in your stomach as he opened the door ― suddenly finding that you didn’t want him to leave. 

“Um…” you called, making him pause in the open door, looking over his shoulder with a brow raised in question, “You...uh…” you struggled to find something to say but he waited patiently for you to form your next words, “Have a nice time...come home soon.”

Your heart thudded painfully as you watched his gaze soften, a smile forming on his lips as he nodded, “I’ll see you later, ______.”

Your ears were ringing as he shut the door, the sound of your name coming from his lips echoing in your head. You sunk down onto the couch, hand on your chest as you came to a startling realization. 

You had a crush on your roommate. 

Living with Shinsou after coming to terms that you had a crush on him was...difficult to say the least. Simple things he did that you used to pay no mind to, you now found yourself getting jittery at the sight. 

Like the way he rubbed his eyes with a fist when he woke up from a nap on the couch, a sound you could only describe as a whine coming from his throat as he sat up. 

The day your kitchen sink stopped working and he had to fix it was one you wouldn’t ever forget. He was leaning beneath the sink, in the cabinet on his back as he fiddled with some tools on the pipes. His white t-shirt became see-through as he sweat from the hard work, his biceps flexing with every movement he made. His shirt rode up a bit over his stomach, exposing his abs that moved and rippled with every movement. His sweats were riding low on his hips, exposing that delicious v-line and happy trail that vanished beneath the band.

The worst part was the way you could see everything in those gray sweatpants he wore. You were pretty sure he wasn’t wearing any underwear. 

You had to leave the room and hide in your bedroom with the window open until he finally finished fixing it. 

You definitely didn’t let your hand slide down your panties to the mental image of him that night. 

Despite living together for nearly four months, you knew close to nothing personal about Shinsou. Putting aside his weird, shady two-day job once a month, you didn’t have anything else to go off of on who he was. 

He was a quiet guy who liked documentaries, video games, and had insomnia. He really loved to eat breakfast foods and cats. Although you hadn’t been in his room even once, only had a couple peeks inside, you knew he owned some cat-themed stationary at the very least. 

Despite his cold appearance, he was actually quite kindhearted and gentle but seemed to have no desire to show it unless necessary. One time, you cut your finger while cooking and you swear you’d never seen him run faster to get a bandaid from the bathroom ― one with a cat on it, no less. 

You still remember the feeling of his hand holding yours and how close his face was as he inspected the cut. You could have leaned in and kissed him so easily then. 

And god was that tempting. 

So lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize the glass you were holding in your hand slipped free until it shattered in a million pieces across the linoleum floor. You gasped, startled as you looked around for a way to escape but a single step in an area you thought was clear brought a cry from your lips as you stepped on the tiny shards. 

You heard a loud thump from the living room where he had been playing a video game before the thundering footsteps raced into the kitchen. Shinsou’s eyes were wide, like he was terrified of what he would find. 

“Don’t move,” he snapped, noting the way you leaned against the counter to take your injured foot off of the ground. He opened the storage cabinet and pulled out the broom and dust pan. 

It took only a few minutes for him to clean it up enough to get to you safely on his own bare feet. Instead of you limping your way to the living room however, you found yourself swept off your feet. 

Your heart raced so hard, you could hear it pounding in your ears. You were cradled against his chest, so warm and firm with his strong arms beneath your knees and shoulders. His heavenly scent surrounded you ― more intense than you’d even smelt it before. As you finally got a close look, you took notice of how his long lashes framed his pretty eyes. 

All too soon, you were placed on the couch and he was disappearing down the hall with quick efficiency. You were still stunned from being in his arms that you barely noticed he had returned until he was on his knees in front of you. 

Immediately, your cheeks bloomed hot with a blush. The image of him on his knees like that immediately sent your mind to a wicked place. 

Luckily your dirty mind was stopped in its tracks when he began pulling glass from your foot.

You gasped in pain, attempting to pull away on reflex but he held strong, sharp gaze burning holes into you.

“Sit still,” he growled, sending a shiver down your spine. 

His voice was so low, so commanding that you found yourself immediately doing what he said. You always were weak to a dominant man. 

Soon enough, your foot was cleaned and he deemed that the bleeding had stopped.

“It’ll probably hurt like hell for a little while when you walk on it,” he warned, packing the first aid away. 

“Thanks Hitoshi,” you smiled, earning a soft nod of acknowledgement from the man. 

The memory of being in his arms, even for that brief moment, was imprinted in your mind. As you laid in bed, you thought about it. It made your stomach flutter in excitement as you fell asleep. 

The fourth monthly job for Shinsou came and unfortunately, you missed him leaving. You had stayed up studying and as a result fell asleep earlier than usual. When you woke up he was already gone and you were left with a painful throb in your heart. 

You missed him. 

As you lazed on the couch, you found your mind wandering to him again. Like always. It was like your mind was cursed. 

You wondered if he thought about you at all. The idea made you feel giddy and you had to bite back a smile. You felt like a silly schoolgirl with your crush ― the way he made your stomach flutter, your heart race, and your cheeks burn was getting ridiculous. It wasn’t like you could confess, he hadn’t given much of a hint that he even thought of you as a friend. Plus, you weren’t sure if you were willing to give up the killer apartment and perfect roommate gig you currently had with a foolish confession. 

You heaved a sigh, sitting up with a new idea in mind. 

A way that you could learn more about him.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t the...most noble means. 

Standing outside his bedroom door, you bit your lip. It felt wrong to go into his room without permission. It wasn’t like he went into your room ― as far as you knew, who knows what he did while you were at school or working. 

The metal doorknob was cold in your palm as you turned it and pushed it open with a soft click.

You’d seen his room in quick glances before when he opened it but you’d never gotten to fully inspect it. He had a large bed that took up the most space in his room. Situated on a dresser at the end of the bed was a TV, a Playstation set up beside it. Against the opposite wall was a desk with a gaming computer setup and a red and black gaming chair pushed in neatly. 

There were a few articles of clothing littering the floor around his laundry basket and his closet was partly open to reveal his primarily monochromatic wardrobe choices. 

Walking into the bedroom, you immediately got a whiff of his cologne, making you smile at the addictive scent. You took a seat on the edge of his bed, the black comforter incredibly soft beneath your hands. 

You leaned forward and opened his nightstand drawer, finding nothing too interesting ― a picture of him standing with a smiling boy with crazy green hair, a pink-skinned girl, and a beaming red-haired guy. 

You hadn’t really given it much thought ― that he had friends. He didn’t really talk about anyone, in fact you never heard him mention anyone in his life besides his mom a few times. You did note that he texted on his phone quite a lot and sometimes you could hear him laughing and cursing from his bedroom as he played a video game. You wondered what his friends' names were, what they were like ― what it was like to be friends with Shinsou. 

What you wouldn’t give to be someone...important in his life. 

Sighing, you closed the drawer and moved to his dresser. Your own thoughts caused your heart to ache and you tried to brush it off by looking through the drawers for something interesting. 

Fortunately, you got what you wished for. 

The last drawer to the right contained a little black metal box buried beneath some clothes. You pulled it out and took a seat on the floor, pressing the button to open it. It popped open and you gaped at what you saw. 

It was filled with money. More money than you’d probably ever seen in your whole life. The bills were wrapped together with rubber bands ― there had to be thousands of dollars in even a single stack. As you pulled out the bundles, you found that there were things located beneath them. 

Jewels; all types. Diamond rings, necklaces, bracelets, ruby and emerald gems decorating them. You pulled out a ring and held it up, watching as he gleamed under the light. 

You tucked everything back inside the box and hid it back the way you found it, shutting the drawer before standing up. 

You had no idea what to think as you shut his door once again, moving to your own room. How could he have all that money hidden away like that? It was certainly shady. 

Perhaps it was counterfeit? Or maybe he stole it! 

And what about those jewels? Did he steal those too? Why were they hidden instead of sold off somewhere?

You had so many questions and absolutely no answers. 

Suddenly you were regretting going snooping in his room. 

The fifth month of living with him would have to be where things started to go downhill. 

He came home from his weekend away, tired and grumpy, just wanting a relaxing shower. However, you hadn’t realized he was home so in your tired, sleep-filled daze you stumbled to the bathroom with the urgent need to pee. 

You pushed the bathroom door open and halted in your tracks, heart stopping in your chest at the sight of shirtless Shinsou. 

He had his back to you, displaying the angry red scratch marks that raked down the pale skin of his back, making them stand out even more. He realized you were there and spun around, eyes narrowed in a glare. With his chest in view, you could see all the hickeys and bites that trailed down  his body, disappearing in the hem of his jeans that he had yet to shed.

“Get the hell out,” he snapped, ripping the door from your hand before slamming in shut in your face. 

You stared at the wood for several, long seconds, stunned. You heard the shower start and snapped out of your daze. Forgetting your once desperate need to pee, you trudged back to your  bedroom and quietly shut the door. 

You weren’t a fool ― you knew exactly what those marks meant. You crawled under the covers and found yourself wondering what kind of woman got Hitoshi Shinsou’s attention enough to get him into bed. 

And what did she have that you didn’t?

Truth be told, you couldn’t even imagine him as the type to sleep around. He wasn’t exactly sociable and he rarely seemed to go out of his way to interact even with his friends.

You could hear the shower turn off and you were suddenly reminded of the way he slammed the door in your face ― the ache from realizing he’d been with someone else only exacerbated by the knife of his shouting at you. 

You closed your eyes and attempted to sleep, ignoring the sting behind your eyes. 

The next morning, you found yourself not wanting to get out of bed. You could hear Shinsou shuffling around the house, doing god knows what. You heard him walk down the hallway, heart freezing as he stopped in front of your bedroom door. 

You closed your eyes, willing him to go away. 

Luck was not on your side, however, as he knocked thrice on your door. It was loud enough that you knew you wouldn’t be able to feign sleeping through it. 

You sighed and crawled out of bed and trudged over to the door, pulling it open just a bit to get a look at him. 

He had his head down, hand clasped around the nape of his neck with his other hand shoved in his pocket. He looked up when he heard the door open, brows drawn together as he gazed at you partially hiding behind the door. 

“I uh…” he cleared his throat, “I went out and picked us up some breakfast.”

“Oh…” you shifted on your feet awkwardly, nodding your head, “Thanks...I’ll eat later.”

You were about to close the door, desperate to escape the burning in your eyes as you remembered last night. Before it could close, however, he shoved his hand in the crack. You paused, not wanting to crush his hand in the door. You let him push it open to show more of you ― clad in shorts and an oversized t-shirt that you loved to sleep in. Thankfully the shirt was big enough that he wouldn’t be able to tell you weren’t wearing a bra. 

“I have to apologize,” he grunted, meeting your gaze, “I shouldn’t have shouted at you like that last night. I was just ticked off…” he trailed off.

You bit your lip, “I uh...I didn’t know you were home...so that’s why I just...walked in…” 

He shook his head, “No I understand, really. Y-You just surprised me and I reacted. I really need to stop taking my shit out on you, I’ll work on that, really. I shouldn’t have slammed the door like that either. It was a shit night but it wasn’t your fault you didn’t know I came home.”

“I-It’s alright, Hitoshi, really,” you smiled, though it faltered a bit at the memory of those scratches and hickeys.

“I...hope you’re not hiding away in here because I upset you,” he muttered, making you frown once more.

“What do you mean?” you questioned.

He bit his lip, looking away awkwardly, “you’re usually up around 10 and it’s...getting close to noon. You don’t do that normally so...I can only think you were trying to avoid me and that’s the last thing I want. This is your home too and I never want you to feel like you can’t be comfortable here.”

You gaped at him, processing what he was telling you. First, he paid close enough attention to you that he knew what time you got up ― that thought made happiness bloom in your chest and second, that was probably the most you’d heard him say in one sitting.

“It’s okay now, Hitoshi,” you smiled, “let me get dressed and I’ll be out to eat, okay?”

He smiled, making your cheeks burn at the sight as he nodded, turning away from you to move back to the living room. You closed your door and sighed. 

It was crazy how just a simple smile from him had your heart fluttering. However, it was quickly halted by the memory that he had someone ― maybe it was a girlfriend. That made your chest ache and you bit your lip to halt those negative feelings as you stripped and changed out of your pajamas. 

You had no idea how you were going to get past the painful clench in your chest every time you looked at him now. 

Month six rolled around and nothing very interesting happened. Shinsou moved his playstation into the living room so the two of you could play some games together. It was a fun bonding experience and you got to watch the way his eyes would light up whenever he beat you. The sound of his laugh still rang in your ears and you couldn’t help but smile every time you thought back to that pretty smile of his. 

It became a weekly thing for the two of you, every Friday night you would sit down on the couch together and play into the early hours of the morning. You got to know more about Shinsou than you had ever before. 

Sometimes he would jerk his body and brush against yours, sending goosebumps across your skin. He was always so warm and inviting ― just having him near you sent your poor heart into palpitations. 

You almost forgot about what happened the previous month when he came back ― those hickeys and scratches on his back finally having been cast out of your mind. 

Your heart did ache when you bid him goodbye the night he left again, wondering if he was going to see her or not. 

The seventh month was when that already precariously balanced life came crumbling down all at once. 

Shinsou was in the shower as you played on his Playstation, sitting in front of the TV with a frown on your face. You could hear the shower running and in the back of your mind you pictured what he might look like ― water running down his flawless skin, his hands caressing. You felt an almost pitiful clench in your core at the mental image. 

Your perversions were cut short by the sharp ring of the doorbell. You paused your game and groaned as you stood up, your knees popping from being sat in the same position for too long. Unlocking the door, you pulled it open and paused. 

A woman stood on the other side of the door, a well-fitting black dress and fur coat wrapped around her shoulders. Her ears, neck, and wrists were adorned with sparkling jewelry and you could see the red bottoms of her expensive heels. She wore vibrant red lipstick across pretty, smiling lips as she acknowledged you. However, you could see the cold gleam in her eyes that made the smile all too fake. 

“Can I help you?” you asked, leaning against the door jam. 

She hummed, tucking some hair behind her ear with perfectly manicured nails, “Is Toshi here?”

“Toshi?” you raised a brow at the nickname, “He’s in the shower. What do you need?”

“Just to talk,” she replied, stepping forward like she wanted to come in. When you didn’t budge she raised a brow, “You don’t mind if I come in, right? I’m sure Toshi would love to see me.”

“Uh…” you didn’t get a chance to reply as she brushed past you, her shoes clicking on the hardwood floor as she made her way towards the living room, “Sure...come on in…” you whispered sarcastically, rolling your eyes as you shut the door. 

You could hear the shower was turned off, indicating Shinsou would be returning in a minute. You looked at the woman as she glanced around the apartment, feeling a sting of jealousy burning within you. 

Was she the girl he was dating?

“So...how do you know Hitoshi?” you asked, making her smile. 

“I’m his girlfriend, of course!” she beamed, voice far too peppy for your liking.

The words sent an arrow through your heart and you looked away with a hum, ignoring the need to flee to your room and cry into the pillow like a stupid middle schooler. 

As if on cue, the bathroom door opened and Shinsou strolled down the hall, towling his hair as he moved. 

Any other time you would have drooled over the sight of a shirtless Shinsou, gym shorts hanging loose on his hips as he walked.

“Uh...Hitoshi…” you mumbled, getting his attention. 

He looked up from beneath his towel, meeting your gaze before his eyes moved to the woman beside you. Immediately his eyes went wide and he stood up straight. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he snapped, startling you with how aggressive those words came out. 

The girl didn’t seem too affected, merely pouting as she spoke, “I wanted to talk to you.”

“You have no business being here,” he growled, jerking his head to the door, “Get out.”

“No!” she argued, walking right up to him, “I deserve answers before you throw me away like trash, Hitoshi!”

“I don’t owe you anything,” he replied coldly, breezing past both you and her to go to the kitchen. She followed him but you remained in the kitchen, listening as they argued.

“Why won’t you see me anymore?!” she cried, petulantly stomping her heeled foot. 

“Because you got too damn attached,” he spat, opening the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water before walking into the living room again. 

“Attached?!” she gasped, grabbing his arm to force him to look at her, “I have given you so much. How can you just break it off without a real reason! Come on, Toshi, just...be with me, you won’t have to work anymore.”

He tensed, glancing over at you at the mention of her job, jaw set, “Just get out, Kana.”

She looked over at you, a sly smile forming on her lips, “She doesn’t know what you do, does she? Is that why you’re avoiding this?”

He didn’t reply, simply glared at her. Kana scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest, “After all I spent on you, you have no right to just run away. You know I can treat you better than anyone else can, Hitoshi. You’re making a mistake.”

“I have plenty of other clients lined up, Kana,” he shot back, making her frown. He chuckled at the sign of weakness she showed, “What? Did you think you were the only one? No, sweetheart, I have plenty of girls waiting to spend even just one night with me. You’re not special. You’re certainly not the highest paying one either. There’s nothing of importance tying me to you. You have nothing special to offer. You got too attached, starting having feelings for me...you know it would never work with my job. So just leave before you get your feelings hurt.”

Both of you were stunned silent. You because you had never heard him speak so coldly and harshly to someone before ― even when he was having a bad day and accidentally took it out on you. Her because the words he spat out with such venom wrecked her pride and made her burn with anger. 

She clenched her fists and snapped her head towards you, “Best not to get close to this prick,” she warned, her voice watery with unshed tears, “A man who makes money being a sugar baby isn’t one you want to get attached too.”

With those last words, she stormed out. The slam of the door made both you and Shinsou flinch. The silence that followed was even more deafening, however. 

Shinsou cursed under his breath, running a hand through his half-dry hair.

“So...she wasn’t your girlfriend?” you asked, making him look over at you. 

He was quiet for a second before chuckling under his breath, “You learn what my job is and that's the first thing you wonder?”

“Well!” you defended yourself quickly, “She introduced herself as your girlfriend!”

He shook his head, moving around the couch to take a seat, “No, she was just...a client I spent time with for a while. She started catching feelings so I cut it off and referred her to a friend of mine. Apparently...she didn’t like that.”

“How’d she know you lived here?” you asked, sitting beside him.

He shrugged, “She could have looked through my shit at some point, I suppose.”

You hummed, not wanting to push him to reveal more than he wanted to. After all, it wasn’t even his choice to expose his line of work anyway. 

Well, at least you had answers on why he had all those expensive clothes, cash, and jewelry. It was good to know he wasn’t some type of shady thief in the end. 

“It’s...just a really bad idea to get involved with clients,” he explained suddenly, “It’s not a relationship that’s built up on anything real. Having to pay for the company of someone is not a good foundation,” he sighed, running his hand through his hair again before looking at you, “I hope you...don’t think differently of me because of my job.”

You shrugged your shoulders and shook your head, “It’s not really my place to judge you, you know?”

“Thanks,” he smiled, “It’s not really something that’s as bad as people think. It gets a bad rep for having sex for money and shit but...truthfully majority of my job is just...being company to rich women. Sometimes they want to take me around to some fancy parties to show me off or go on dates because they’re lonely. Sex isn’t the majority of what I do. I mean...I will but...it’s not the most common occurrence.”

Once again, the vision of those hickeys and sex-scratches crossed your mind and you found yourself wondering what kind of woman gave him those. At least you could be assured he wasn’t going out to see his girlfriend when he went to work ― they were strictly clients.

Which meant...he was probably single. 

Your heart stuttered in your chest at the hopeful idea. 

“How about I order some take out?” you asked, standing up to retrieve your phone. 

“Get some pizza,” he called as you disappeared down the hall. 

After his occupation was revealed to you, things began to look up. He became more open and carefree around you ― as he no longer had a big secret to hide. He didn’t really talk about his work but he wasn’t hiding it from you either. 

You decided not to ask too many questions, knowing you’d only burn up in jealousy at the idea. You knew you didn’t really have a right to be jealous since you weren’t his girlfriend or anything but you couldn’t help it either. 

The peaceful feeling didn’t last long, however. Once the fire started burning, it had no other choice but to rage. 

“You should really just tell him, _____!” your friend, Uraraka whined, head against the table.

“It’s seriously painful,” Momo agreed, “All this pining is making me sick.”

“Oh real nice,” you rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your coffee. 

It felt nice to hang around with your friends for once ― it wasn’t something you frequently got the opportunity to do. 

Just as Uraraka was about to open her mouth and reply, a looming shadow dropped over the table. You all looked over to find the familiar blonde hair and wide grin.

“Kaminari,” you greeted with a smile.

“Hey _____,” he waved before tucking his hands in his pockets, “Listen, I’ve been wanting to ask for a while but...would you like to go out with me sometime?”

The question left you stunned. 

You weren’t super close to Denki Kaminari, you shared a few general studies classes. He was a goofy, excitable guy who always seemed to know how to light up a room. Everyone around him was always in a good mood, in general he was just a very positive person. 

Not just that but he wasn’t too bad to look at either; with his pretty, wide eyes and sharp jawline. The black lightning bolt streak through his hair just made him look even more charming. 

But you hesitated, your mind drifting to Shinsou. 

Sighing, you bit your lip, “Can I get back to you on that?”

He smiled, nodding his head, obviously relieved you didn’t tell him a flat out no, “No problem. I’ll see you later!”

Once he was gone, a sharp smack landed on your back making you cry out.

“Why didn’t you give him an answer?!” Momo cried.

“Denki’s a great guy, _____! You should do it!” Uraraka added.

You shrugged, “It’s just…”

“If you’re holding out hoping something will miraculously happen with stupid Shinsou, it’s a stupid idea,” Momo said, making you pout that she had read you so easily.

“Just tell him how you feel, _____,” Uraraka sighed, “If he rejects you, you can accept Denki’s date!”

You sighed but didn’t reply. Your two friends shared a look before changing the topic, drawing the attention away from your hopeless crush on your roommate. 

When you got home, you were filled with a sense of urgency. Shinsou wasn’t in the living room so you went to his bedroom, knocking a few times on the door before he opened it. 

“Hey,” he greeted, a tired smile on his face, “Welcome home.”

“Hitoshi,” you swallowed thickly, steeling yourself.

He frowned, “What is it?”

“I need to talk to you,” you breathed.

“Okay,” he stepped aside, waving you into his room.

You hesitated for a second, realizing that there would be no turning back once you walked inside. The door shutting behind you echoed in your head. He moved past you to take a seat on his computer chair. The screen was lit up behind him, indicating he had probably been playing something before you interrupted. 

“I’m all ears,” he said softly, relaxing back in his seat.

“I…” you shifted on your feet, biting your lip, “I got asked out on a date.”

He raised his brow, cocking his head to the side. Part of you had hoped you would see some hint of jealousy from him at your words but his face remained as steely as ever.

“And...you want advice or something?” he chuckled.

You shook your head, “I want to know if…” you took in a deep breath, “If you like me before I accept him.”

He was silent for what felt like an eternity, just staring at you. Shinsou was always the type of man to think before he spoke, running through all possibilities before opening his mouth. His throat moved as he swallowed, a soft sigh coming from his nose.

“You...have a crush on me, or something?” he asked, making you deflate slightly.

“Yes,” you admitted, “And...if you don’t like me back then I’ll accept this boy’s date. There’s no reason for me to wait around and hope you’ll like me back when I could be out meeting someone new.”

He nodded his head, quieting once more. You watched as he stood up, taking a few steps towards you, “_____…” you heart clenched at his tone, knowing what was coming, “My job...it doesn’t leave me room for personal relationships.”

Despite how much you prepared yourself for it, hearing him reject you hurt. You nodded, forcing yourself not to cry as you backed up towards the door.

“Alright then,” you gave him a tight-lipped smile, turning your back to him, “I guess I’ll accept Kaminari’s date then.”

As you walked out his door, you didn’t see the pained look in his eyes. Your name lingered on the tip of his tongue but he didn’t dare speak out. The click of his door was deafening in his ears and when you were gone he sighed, hanging his head as he sat on the edge of his bed, feeling like an idiot. 

The next day, you hunted down Kaminari, telling him you’d love to go out on a date with him. He was thrilled, going off excitedly about how he couldn’t believe you actually accepted him and that he would make it the best date ever. 

And truth be told, the date was a blast. You had told him you’d never been to laser tag before and immediately he said that was exactly what you do then. The sound of Denki’s laughter still echoed in your ears as he lost to you, accusing you of cheating in a lighthearted tone. 

You didn’t see much of Shinsou after you started seeing Kaminari. Although it was casual, you spent a good bit of time hanging out with him ― he began eating with you, Uraraka, and Momo on campus and the two of you texted often. 

It seemed that Shinsou wasn’t making a big effort to hang out with you anyway. As much as that hurt, you knew it was for the best. It spared you a lot of hurt and him of the awkwardness of living with a girl who had a crush on him. 

It was fair enough, you mused. 

But when you laid in bed at night, your phone on silent and the faint sound of Shinsou’s voice floating through the walls as he gamed with his friends, you felt the now familiar tug on your heart. You longed to be with him. 

But you knew it was pointless now. 

You’d been seeing Kaminari for a month when he showed up on your doorstep to pick you up. Usually you would leave and meet him but due to the rain, he opted to pick you up and save you both from the hassle. 

You were in your room, putting the final touches on your makeup when the doorbell rang. Before you could react, you heard Shinsou open the door. 

You quickly grabbed your purse, tossing the strap over your shoulder as you opened your door. You could hear their voices carrying down the hallway.

“Holy shit!” Kaminari laughed, “What a small world ― it’s been a while Hitoshi!”

“Denki,” Shinsou greeted curtly. 

“You ______’s roommate?” Kaminari asked, tucking his hands in his pockets as he waited for you, “She’s talked about you a bit. Didn’t know it was you, though, man!”

“Denki―” Shinsou was about to say something more but was cut off by your entrance.

“Hey there babydoll!” Kaminari greeted with a grin, holding his hand out for you to take, “See you later, Hitoshi!”

Shinsou didn’t respond as he watched the two of you leave, his jaw set tight as he held himself back from calling out. 

-

You felt like you’d never been more angry in your life as you stormed home. Things had been going so well between you and Kaminari, you felt like you could genuinely start to like him. You enjoyed his company and began to think less and less about one purple haired roommate of yours. 

You slammed the front door, startling poor Shinsou on the couch. He turned around, eyes wide at the blazing anger visible on your face.

“What the hell is your problem, Shinsou?!” you cried, kicking your shoes off and tossing your backpack to the floor.

“Huh?” he raised a brow dumbly, only fanning the flames of your rage. 

“You…” you heaved, fists clenched, “Who do you think you are?! Telling Denki to break it off with me?!”

Realization quickly flashed over his face and he groaned, standing up, “I didn’t tell him to break up with you!” he argued. You opened your mouth to retort but he put his hand up to stop you, “I just told him to think it over. Do you know how we know each other, ____?”

“No,” you shook your head, tossing your hands up, “What does it matter? You still have no right to interfere in my relationship!”

“He’s in the same line of work I am!” he snapped, rounding the couch, “He does the same exact thing I do.”

You paused, letting the information sink in, “Why does that matter?”

He shook his head, “Do you really want to be with a guy who spends his nights in bed with women, _____? That’s not exactly the easiest job to trust a man with.”

You didn’t have a retort, “I thought...the majority of the job was just being a companion.”

Shinsou sighed, taking a seat once more, “It really depends on the guy. Denki is pretty popular because he loves to get his dick wet.”

You thought those words would make you feel jealous. The idea of the guy you were seeing fucking other women should make you feel something but instead...you felt almost relieved. Still, it didn’t simmer the anger you felt towards Shinsou at putting his nose in your business.

“You should have come to me and told me your concerns, Shinsou,” you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him, “Instead of going behind my back for me to be dumped.”

“You’re right,” he admitted, biting his lip, “I just...wanted to see if Denki was still the same as he was when I last knew him. It’s just how it happened. I am sorry.”

Sensing his apology was sincere, you relaxed and nodded, “I’ve got to study.”

With that, you hid away in your room. 

You couldn’t deny you still felt a bit ticked off with him but at least you were able to move past it. You realized you weren’t truly attached to Kaminari, you were just using him to shove your feelings for Shinsou away ― a pretty dick move on your part. So you were relieved to be out of the relationship.

Unfortunately, this left you with Shinsou once more. Where he once was pushed from your mind for the most part, he now resumed plaguing your thoughts. 

You couldn’t deny how tired you were. 

It was emotionally exhausting feeling your heart race at the mere sight of him only for it to ache when you remembered there was no chance in hell he’d even give you the time of day. 

Things reached a head when he returned from work. Eleven months in and all the negative feelings and tension finally culminated. 

“Hey Shinsou,” you called, finding him leaning against the kitchen island with a cereal bar in his hands. 

He looked over his shoulder, an unusually cold look in his eyes as he regarded you, “What?”

You tried not to flinch at the tone, frowning, “Is everything okay?”

“Fine,” he snapped and you sighed, realizing he was in one of his moods, “What do you want?”

“I...nevermind,” you shrugged, “We’ll talk when you’re in a better mood.”

You hadn’t meant for it to be something to piss him off further. You truly meant that you would wait until he felt better to talk. For some reason, however, he took it wrong.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” he growled, pushing himself off of the counter to storm up to you.

“Nothing!” you defended, “I don’t want to get into anything with you, okay?”

“If you have something to say then just say it!” he snapped, making you shake your head.

“No!” you argued, turning on your heel to storm into your bedroom. 

Before you could get very far, however, a tight hand was wrapped around your elbow, pulling you back.

“Don’t fucking run from me!” his tone sent shivers down your spine, the angry fire burning in his eyes finally snapping something inside you.

“I am so fucking tired of this!” you tore your arm from his grip, not missing the frustrated grunt he gave in response, “This shit isn’t working anymore, Shinsou! You clearly don’t know what the hell to do with yourself; you come home from working and you’re in a shit mood and you take it out on me. Then you act like everything is perfectly fine. You know how I feel about you, so you can’t even pretend that doesn’t have anything to do with your behavior. In fact, I know it affects you because why else would you have convinced the only guy I’ve seen in the past like two years to dump me like trash! All over this stupid fucking job of yours. I don’t want to deal with the shitty way you make me feel, Shinsou!”

“So?” he snapped, teeth bared.

“So I’m gonna fucking move out!” you threatened, standing nose to nose with him.

His eyes narrowed and he let out a humourless laugh, “Fine! The sooner the better!”

With those last words he stormed past you, slamming his bedroom door with deafening finality. 

You were left alone in the living room, fists clenched as tears you’d held back so long finally broke free. 

A stupid purple haired idiot was not worth being hurt so much over. That you were sure of. 

It’s not like he even cared, apparently. 

With that thought finally pushing you into action, you returned to your own room to begin looking for new housing. 

In all your time living with him, the longest you went without seeing him was two days. Once a month when he went to work ― that was the only length of time you didn’t see him every day. 

Now, however, the two of you were avoiding each other like the plague. You had been busting your ass finding a new apartment, going to school, and working as usual. Shinsou had been hiding in his room the majority of the time. 

You even stopped cooking. 

Part of you wondered if he even noticed. Deep down, however, you knew he probably didn’t care. 

He would just get a new roommate and go on like usual. Like you had never existed. 

At least you’d be able to get over him then. 

It took a month before you found a decent place. It was nowhere near as nice as your current one but there was nothing you could do about that. Your situation with Shinsou was unique and you knew you were never gonna have an opportunity like this again. 

You came to terms with that. 

Wandering out of your room, you were surprised to find him sitting on the couch. His nose was buried in his phone but the TV played his usual shows. 

“Hey,” you greeted, keeping your voice even. He grunted in response, not looking up, “I found a place. I’ll be out by the end of the week.”

He didn’t say anything and you sighed, feeling your eyes burn. 

How you wished he would say something to stop you ― to show you that the past year wasn’t a huge waste of time and that you really meant nothing to him. You felt you could have at least called yourselves friends but...apparently that was one sided. 

The thought hurt so you escaped to your room once again to hide. 

The night before your move, you were laying in bed playing a game on your phone. Laying on your back, you held the screen up and tapped your thumbs aggressive against the screen. Your momentum was lost by three sharp knocks on your door. You cried out as your phone fell from your hand and dropped on your face. 

“Shit,” you groaned, tossing it away and getting up from bed. 

Opening the door, your words caught in your throat at the sight of Hitoshi Shinsou’s sleepy gaze fixated on you. His hand was clasped around the nape of his neck and he was looking away nervously. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” his head snapped towards you, eyes wide before you realized how that sounded, “I-I mean I thought you were supposed to be gone! You know...to work.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly and he shrugged, “I cancelled. I...wanted...no, I needed to talk to you. Can I come in?”

You stood there for a few seconds, thinking it over before stepping aside to let him in. He gave you a tight lipped smile before you shut the door behind him. Turning to face him, you took note of the way his free hand was shoved into his sweats pocket. The tension was so thick you could have cut it with a knife. 

“What...what did you need?” you asked, sitting on the edge of your bed. 

He remained standing, obviously thinking over his words carefully. His back was to you, his figure hunched slightly in his usual posture. But you couldn’t miss the tension his form held. 

“I never intended this to become a long-term thing,” for a moment you thought he was talking about your living arrangement but before you could refute, he was turning to you, “This sugar baby thing, that is. I had a friend who did it and made some good money from it and eventually I got into the scene and realized just how good it could pay. It’s been like 2 or 3 years now since I’ve been at it.”

He dropped his hand from around his neck, beginning to pace around your room to gaze at your various knick-knacks. He paused at the few boxes you had packed up already, a frown marring his face.

“I make even more money by selling the presents I get. Sometimes the clients will give me jewelry or clothes, I always sell them,” he sighed, picking up a snow globe that sat atop your dresser, shaking it mindlessly to watch the fake snow float around the glass. 

“Why are you telling me this?” you asked softly.

“The truth is, I hate the majority of my job,” he confessed, ignoring your question, “Most of the people are pretentious assholes who think they’re better than me because they pay me. I don’t mind being arm candy, it doesn’t really bother me. And not gonna lie sometimes the sex is bomb,” he chuckled almost lifelessly and you ignored the pang in your chest at his words, “But the position I’m in forces me to basically do whatever they want me to. Naturally, I have limits and shit but if they want to dominate me I let them and that sucks.”

“Hitoshi,” you grumbled, making him look at you, “Why are you telling me about your sexual preferences?”

“Oh right…” he shook his head, “I hate doing it because I don’t have much control in my life because of it,” he looked at you with fierce eyes, “That’s why...I want to say fuck it.”

Before you could respond, he was walking up to you, cupping your cheek in a warm hand. Your eyes were wide, staring up at him as he moved close to you, his lips brushing yours. 

“It’s been so fucking painful letting you go,” he whispered, “Having to reject you and let you go out with fucking Denki nearly broke me down, not gonna lie. I didn’t want him to hurt you, that’s why I interfered...but I also...didn’t want to let him have you when I wanted you so damn bad myself.”

Your heartbeat stuttered as you stared up at him, wide eyed, “D-Does that mean you…”

He nodded, “Shit, I’ve liked you for so long, _____. It’s been so hard not telling you how I feel every single day.”

“Hitoshi,” you likced your lips, reaching up to fist the front of his shirt. He hummed before you spoke again, “Please kiss me.”

There was a quick flash of his smile before his lips met yours ― every bit as soft as you expected them to be. You could faintly taste toothpaste on his lips but you didn’t mind one bit, he probably tasted the same from you. 

His hand moved from your cheek to your jaw, angling your head to deepen the kiss. Your own hands moved around his shoulders, pulling him closer. 

You quickly found yourself on your back, his hand wandering up the hem of your shirt, touching the bare skin of your stomach. You whimpered, fisting his hair as you kept him locked in a kiss. He didn’t seem to mind, simply sighing against your lips. 

You still had questions but you couldn’t bear the thought of stopping this so you tucked them into the back of your mind, devoting yourself to what was right in front of you. 

Shinsou sat up just slightly, breaking the kiss. You almost whined but the feeling of his hand creeping upwards towards your bare breast stopped you.

“Is this okay?” he asked for your consent, pausing before he actually touched you.

“Very,” you breathed, tugging him back down for another kiss. 

Immediately, he cupped your breast, thumbing your already erected nipple. You gasped into his mouth, earning an amused chuckle from him.

“Sensitive?” he asked, pecking your lips before suddenly sitting back. 

This time you did whine at the loss. He flashed you a fond smile before pushing the hem of your shirt up to your neck, revealing your chest to his greedy eyes. 

“D-Don’t just stare,” you complained, feeling your cheeks burn as he admired your body. 

“Sorry,” he replied insincerely, cupping your breast once more, “You have such pretty tits, you know? I couldn’t help it.”

You scoffed but it turned into a choked gasp as he enveloped your pert bud in his hot mouth, wet tongue lashing against it before he pulled away with a firm suck. You wrapped your hands in those soft, purple tresses and whined. His other hand came up to pinch your other nipple, making sure to give it just as much attention. 

“Toshi…” you whined, tugging his hair until he pulled away, his lips swollen. 

“What is it, baby?” he hummed, nosing at your neck to press soft kisses there.

“T-Take your shirt off,” you breathed, tugging at the hem until you were able to pull it over his head with a bit of assistance. 

Once he was as shirtless as you, your hands began to wander to touch every bit of skin you had long to for so long. He let you explore, letting out a soft sigh when you brushed over one of his hardened nipples. You didn’t linger in one place for long, quickly growing too curious at the sight of his member straining against those damn sweatpants he always wore. 

His head tipped back as you palmed him through the fabric, quickly noticing that he wasn’t wearing any underwear. Eagerly, you dipped your fingers beneath the hem and pulled his cock free, your fingers not even able to touch once wrapped around. 

He was thick, a curve to his length that you just knew would hit a certain spot inside of you that would make you lose your mind. The head was a flushed red color, leaking precum that you used to give him a couple easy strokes. 

He reached down, grabbing your wrist to stop you before slipping his own hand down the hem of your shorts and panties. 

Your hips bucked the second his fingers made contact with your folds ― already dripping wet and coating his digits generously. He gave a few soft circles to your clit, testing your sensitivity before finding the pressure that had you cunt clenching around nothing. 

You whined, grinding your hips against his touch in hopes he’d slip at least one of those long fingers into you. Thankfully, you were granted your wish and more as he easily slid his middle and ring fingers in. 

He groaned as you walls tightly clenched around him, trying to desperately pull him back in whenever he pulled them out slightly. 

“Feel good?” he breathed, already knowing the answer but craving your praise.

“So good,” you whimpered, biting your lip. He curled his fingers suddenly, nailing that sweet, spongy spot on your upper wall, “Right there!” you gasped. 

He grinned, massaging that one pleasure-point with vigor, “Yeah? Right there, kitten?”

You keened at the name, walls clenching. He groaned at the feeling, suddenly pulling his hand free from your shorts. You didn’t have time to complain before he was tugging the remaining articles down your legs to toss away. 

He moved with practice expertise, grabbing you beneath the thighs to pin them open. Your wet cunt was exposed to his all too greedy eyes. He licked his lips at the sight, making your cheeks burn. 

Before you knew it, he was kneeling on the floor beside the bed, tugging you down just a bit so your ass was almost hanging off the edge. The position left you completely at his mercy. He knew it too. 

You watched with bated breath as he spread your folds open ― revealing the shiny, pink hole that continuously dripped your arousal. It clenched beneath his leering gaze and he groaned. 

“Fuck!” you squealed when he dove forward to wrap his lips around your hardened clit. 

He hummed at your taste, sending vibrations through the little bud. He quickly abandoned that in favor of getting a full taste of your juices. Tonguing your entrance, he reveled in how tight you were around his tongue. 

You reached down, tanging your fingers in his hair as he ate you with all he had. His tongue worked expertly to circle your clit before dipping back down to your hole once again. 

“Please, put your fingers in,” you begged, desperate to be filled. 

He quickly obliged, slipping two long digits into your clenched pussy before mouthing over your clit eagerly. He could already feel you clenching sporadically around him and he couldn’t resist setting a quick pace, hammering against your sweet spot with every movement. 

Your muscles were taught as you felt that glorious high building up. Soft pleas left your lips as your back arched. 

“Gonna cum, kitten?” he tasted, flicking his tongue against your clit.

“Y-Yeah!” you sobbed, abandoning your hold on his hair to tear at your blankets ― not wanting to hurt him in your throes of pleasure. 

“Cum then,” the casual way he said those words flicked a switch and you were cumming. 

He groaned through your high, feeling your cunt spasm around him. He felt your cum gush from around his digits, soaking them as you clit throbbed beneath the pad of his tongue. Once your body began to relax, he pulled away. 

Your thighs slammed shut once he was out of the way, your muscles trembling through the intense aftershocks. While you were coming down, he stripped himself of his sweats, popping his cum-soaked fingers into his mouth with a groan as he fisted his cock to the sight of you trembling. 

The fact he made you cum so hard was a boost to his ego and he didn’t bother fighting the prideful grin on his face. Sweat coated your skin and made your hair stick to your neck. 

After several seconds, he climbed onto the bed and maneuvered you so your head was in the pillows. You bit your lip and grinned slyly at him as he climbed onto the bed. 

“Shit uh…” he looked around your room quickly, a frown on his lips. You looked up at him curiously before he explained, “Condom?”

You bit your lip and shook your head, “D-Don’t worry about it.”

“Huh?” he gaped down at you.

You shrugged, “I’m on the pill and well...I’m sure you use condoms with you...job, right?”

“Always,” he blinked.

“Then…” you wiggled your hips at him with a cheeky grin. 

He chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. Reaching between the two of you, he gripped his cock and tapped the head of it against your folds. Your thighs jumped as he slapped lightly against your sensitive clit. 

Finally, he began to press into you and your mouth fell open at the delicious stretch his cock gave you. He clenched his teeth, letting you soft groans as he sunk more of his length into you. Your walls gripped him so tightly, spasming and clenching as he was fully seated within you. 

The two of you had to pause before continuing, the feeling of him filling you up too much. His cock was thick, making you feel like he was stuffing you full. 

“Please,” you begged, fisting the pillows on either side of your head as he sat back on his heels. 

Gazing between your thighs, he nearly lost it at the sight of your cunt stretched tight to accommodate him. He thumbed over your clit, receiving a sharp cry from your lips. 

“Fuck...you’re so fucking tight,” he growled, circling his hips against yours with a groan, “I can feel you clenching so tight around me. Bet you wanna cum again, huh?”

“Yes!” you cried quickly, mouth agape as he gave a sudden thrust, “Please make me cum!”

He shushed you, rubbing his thumbs over your hips, “Don’t worry, kitten, I got you...I’ll get you there.”

Before you could respond, he was setting an almost brutal pace. You always imagined what Shinsou would be like in bed ― you pictured it too many times at night. Sometimes you imagined he would take it slow with deep, intense thrusts. Other times you’d picture exactly this; rough, harsh thrusts that you were sure were going to leave you sore when the morning came. 

You had no complaints though. 

Hitoshi gripped you beneath your knees, pinning your legs to your chest as he fucked you. Your cunt gushed around him, making lewd, wet noises reverberate around the room and mingle with your mixed moans. He let out groans of pleasure, strands of purple hair sticking to his forehead. 

You couldn’t help but admire the sight of him ― muscles rippling and moving with the force of his thrusts. Reaching up, you pulled him closer against you, dragging your nails across his shoulder blades. 

He winced but you felt his cock twitch at the pinch of pain inflicted as a result. You thought back to what you saw that one night ― the marks some random woman left on his body. Suddenly, you were overcome with the need to mark him as yours. 

Catching him by surprise, you managed to flip him over, straddling his waist, using his strong chest as leverage to fuck yourself on his thick cock. The new angle allowed him to reach even deeper, almost hitting your cervix every time you sunk down on him. He gripped your hips, assisting your movements as he tossed his head back into the pillows. 

“Shit, that’s it, kitten,” he praised, reaching up to pinch one of your nipples.

You keened at the praise, leaning down to deliver a sharp bite against his shoulder, sucking at the skin until a bright red mark bloomed. You eyed it proudly, biting your lip as you ground against his cock, making sure your clit got the attention it needed. 

Shinsou bucked into you, making you whine as he started a steady pace of bouncing. Your thighs burned but it was worth the sight of having him beneath you. The way he stared up at you, as if you were a goddess made your heart race. 

“Toshi…” you whined, leaning back to steady yourself on his thighs as he started to thrust up into you. 

“What is it, babygirl?” he grunted, gripping your hips tightly as he fucked his thick cock into your gushing cunt. 

“Make me cum, please!” you begged, biting your lip. 

He grinned, bringing his thumb to his lips to lick the pad of it, “I got you, baby.”

Before you could think of a response, he was circling his thumb around your clit, the bud desperate for attention. Your body tensed with just a few quick circles of his thumb, his cock angled against your g-spot so perfectly that you immediately reached your high. 

Through your own cries of pleasure, you heard him moaning alongside you before he froze, his cock buried deep inside you as he came. His cock throbbed and pulsed with every jet of hot cum he released into your clenching walls. 

All at once, things stilled. You both relaxed against each other. His cock was still stuffed inside you, softening as his cum leaked out around him to make a mess between the two of you. You laid your head against his chest, his large hand cupping the back of it, pressing soft kisses against your forehead until your heartbeats finally slowed to a reasonable pace. 

“Let’s take a bath, baby,” he groaned as he sat up, keeping you secure in his lap.

You were surprised he could carry you so easily after he nearly fucked the very life out of you. 

Soon enough, you found yourself surrounded by sweet-smelling water with a fucked-out Shinsou cuddling against your back.

“Not to...ruin this afterglow bliss,” you hummed, leaning back against him as the warm water ripped around you, “But what brought this confession on suddenly? I thought you said your job doesn’t allow room for relationships.”

He was quiet for several, long seconds before he leaned forward to press a kiss to your shoulder, “I didn’t think it was fair to let myself be with you when I was going out once a month to hang around with a bunch of women. It isn’t something I want to put you through.”

“So you’re going to quit?” you asked. 

He nodded, “I probably won’t be able to make enough money to keep this place but...if it means I can have you without feeling like shit about hurting you, then yeah. It’ll be worth it, I’m sure.”

“Why don’t you just…” you bit your lip, pausing.

“What?” you questioned, gripping your chin to make you look at him, “Talk to me.”

You hummed, “Just stop with the sex and kissing stuff...just be arm candy, like you said. Hang out with them. They’ll still pay for that, right?”

He raised a brow, shifting so he could look better at your face, “You’d be okay with me going to hang out with a bunch of women who want nothing more than to sit on my dick?”

“Well…” you cleared your throat, your cheeks burning, “As long as only I get to sit on your dick then it’ll be fine. I trust you, Hitoshi.”

He was quiet once again before a smile fell across his lips, leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips, “We’ll talk more about it later. Let’s just relax.”

He tucked you against his chest, leaning back against the porcelain of the tub. With his fingers caressing across your skin, you allowed yourself to drift off ― finally wrapped up in those damn arms you dreamed of.

[goth-girlfriend]

Just wondering and no pressure here! Are you ever gonna finish the Endeavor fic? Love ur works bby and stay safe out there! <3

Yes yes yes 😤😭 Anything for you sweetheart and especially anything for Enji. Take care of yourself ❤️❤️

✨✨✨

“What?” I yawned out loud to myself pushing myself up. My arm was sore from sleeping on it, I looked around and blinked at the light that had made itself known. I tried to push to sit up being held down by a familiar weight. I yawned again, before rolling over under Enji’s arm. I pressed my back against his warm side resting on my arm that wasn’t sore. I pulled his arm around my waist to feel like I was being held in place.

“Ah, security.” I sighed using his shoulder and bicep as a pillow, “Not soft at all.” I snuggled against the firm muscle until I heard a throaty chuckle. His chest shook lightly and I looked up at him he was awake. His eyes lidded from sleep still fighting against consciousness, I watched a faint smile pull at the corners of his lips, I couldn’t fight the most likely idiotic looking grin that surfaced. I laughed and shook my head as quietly as I could. I turned in his arm and hugged his chest. I watched as he moved his free arm behind his head, his bicep bulged at the unintentional flexing.

“Good morning.” I smiled and let my head fall against his shoulder while I looked up at him. It felt perfect, this moment. The morning sun filtered by the beige curtains lighting the room in gold with a few thin slits of white sunlight breaking through. The white duvet stopping at waist, open sleeping shirt, messy hair, pressed into his side sighing content. The rumble of the AC filling the silence, soft breathing, its perfect. In this moment, in this place, there is no history, there is no future, its us in this moment. With nothing to ruin the moment I sighed and closed my eyes feeling the faint heat of his rising chest.

“Good morning.” He finally answered, voice deeper than usual, I felt him shuffle, before I felt his lips pressed onto the top of my head. I felt my eyes flutter involuntary, and my heart swelling. I smiled closing my eyes enjoying the closeness, perfect, this is perfect.

“DDAAAAAAADD!!” I blinked a few times remembering where we were, I watched as he groaned rubbing his face with his hand and sitting up leaving me behind.

“Yes, Fuyumi?” He called starting to stand up doing a few basic stretches.

”Y/N IS GONE DID YOU HEAR ANYTHING THIS MORNING MAYBE SHE LEFT TO GET BREAKFAST?!” She screamed through the door, I watched the door handle jiggle, thanking God I locked it last night.

“Yes, I heard someone moving this morning. It could have been (L/N), why don’t you go look around down stairs, I need to shower and get ready.” He yawned before he stood popping his back.

“Mmm...” there was a pause and some shuffling.

I heard Sho’s faint voice “Fuyumi, look y/n sent me message this morning saying she was going to a nearby convinience store to buy some things she had forgotten. She’ll be back soon.” I sighed thanking God once again that I had told Shoto my password all those weeks ago.

“Alright, DON’T MIND DAD!” She screamed before I heard them walk away, Great, now how am I supposed to leave? I looked around, “Does that window open?” I asked pointing to the window in the room. “It‘s a balcony.” Enji pulled back the curtains revealing an pretty good sized balcony with fancy railing. I was wearing sleeping shorts and a long sleeve shirt with some socks, I‘ll fly down, and just walk back in... but I went to the store.... so I need to come back with something. “Can I have ten dollars?” I smiled sheepishly looking at Enji.“

He sighed before turning to the dresser and pulled out a bill out of his wallet. I grinned and thanked him, “I’ll be back in, five or ten minutes.” I shrugged and opened the Balcony window. Taking eagle form, I dived down into an alley way barrel rolling and lading back on human feet. I walked out and stopped outside a tourist shop. The shop owner was placing out a box of mini hero figures, the same figures from that night we patrolled. These were a new release with the change to get Gold or Silver All Might, Endeavour or Hawks. I got excited and rushed in, I “went to the store”, but I never said what for. the packs were on sale, 2 for $5.00. And lucky for me, I had managed to get a $50. Each box comes with 12 lucky bags each bag has 3 mini figures, there are only 10 Pro hero’s currently released in this line. I have a ten percent chance of getting Endeavour, All Might or Hawks, if you add the 6 new figures to the line thats 16 characters in total. Meaning there are three possible Endeavor, All Might and Hawks,,, But, the chances of getting a special edition, would be 2 of 16 which should be 12.5 out of 100. If I multiply by three that raises the chance 37.5 of 100. So out of all 36 Figures that means I have to at least get 1 limited edition Per box, bu counting in these are the first boxes to pull in customers, they overload the limited ones to make it look easy so people will be convinced to buy them because it’s “easy” to find a limited figure... meaning... “ill give you $50 even for both boxes.”

I turned to look at the cashier guy who seemed unimpressed but nodded, “I usually sell boxes for $30 dollars each but  I feel generous 25 each plus taxes.”

“How about $20 plus taxes.” I counter offered. He squinted at me before he made another offer, we went at this until we were back at my original offer. “Alright, this is my last offer,” he huffed and stared at me hard, “$50 dollars cash, no taxes, and IF you become a Pro Hero you do advertising free for my shop.”

I laughed and nodded, “Deal.” He packed the boxes and I paid him before we parted ways. By the time I made it back to the hotel Fuyumi rushed to me with a look of worry. “Where were yOU I WAS WORRIED?!” 

I smiled, “I was in the middle of a very serious conversation about some very serious things.” 

“A toy store, that bag says you were at a toy store.” Shoto said sounding very unimpressed.

I smiled and let out a sheepish laugh, “well...” I looked down and hid the bag behind me, “I never said I went to buy anything important.” 

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“Ow......ow.......nooooo stop.” I whined feeling one more tug at my hair and finally it fell down.

“There, we’re done.” Fuyumi fluffed my hair a bit before smoothing it out again, “Now lets go, before Natsuo starts causing a fuss.” She ushered me to move and I did leading our way to the elevator.

“Alright,“ I sighed slouching a little... “....Wanna see something cool?” I asked standing back up, Fuyumi cocked a brow by smiled a little, “Alright, I do actually.”

I dug into my pocket and pulled out a gold endeavor figure, “Boom, its your dad.“ I took her hand and placed it in her palm, “You can have that, I have another one.” I smiled when she let out a slight laugh. “Thank you, I’ll keep him with my keys.” We stood in a comfortable silence until the doors opened and we started to move out I asked, “Soooo, what are we doing after this award ceremony?” I asked tilting my head in curiosity.”

“I don’t know, she said he lips pulling to the side in a displeased way, “They didn’t let me plan out this trip so its a surprise for the both of us.” My only answer was to nod while I smiled down at the ground, “Sounds Fun.”

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”Aren’t those kids from UA?” The voices of photographers were loud with there questions as flashes went of left and right, “Why are they with Pro Hero Endeavor?” “I don’t know but these kids could pull in the views!”

“Todoroki! A question if you Will!” “Hey Midoriya Over here!” “L/N! Can you pose for a few photos!” “Todoroki look over here!” Midoriya whats it like to learn from Pro Hero All Might??” “L/N! L/N! Are you affiliated with Todoroki or Midoriya?”

As much as I love getting my photo taken, I knew sticking around for pictures and questions in this scenario is probably the last thing I should do. So instead I stayed close to Natsuo almost sandwiched between him and Fuyumi. I stayed betwen them as we kept moving, Sho and Deku were behind us not rushing, Sho seemed unaffected and Deku was looking down red faced and embarrassed. It was kinda cute. I looked back ahead watching Enji ignore everyone moving forward with purpose and carrying himself with pride. I smiled watching him I know not everyone can see him or respect him as the number one hero but, to me, He can be so much more if only people would give him a chance. I know he’s not the most kind person in public, but with the right sidekick or partner that could change easy. When Hawks was with him those brief days, his like ability actually raised. So I know all it takes is someone pushing him to be more interactive with his fans, he knows now there are some that like him, bit i also understand why it’s so hard for him to accept it...

“Alright, were in, lets go find some seats.”

The ceremony went by slowly, I was bored listening to a bunch of speeches but at least made it look like I was paying attention. I couldn’t even sit by Enji because Fuyumi took my place, and then I managed to get stuck between Natsuo and Sho and they kept talking and we had to refrain from laughing to loud at a few things. Midoriya was so interested in everything that was happening and i started to pay attention when they actually started calling name, Sho and Natsuo stopped after Fuyumi told them to shut up. Which I appreciated now that things were getting interesting. I listened to the awards leaning forward more and more as more hero’s showed up collecting awards and moving on with speeches each with their own rounds of applause. I got this twisted feeling about Eniji going so I whispered to Sho who voiced the idea of us cheering for their dad and Fuyumi praised him for caring about their dad and he took the praise. So when Enji was called for an award of Achievement and a few other things the crowd applauded but how it normaly had so I stood up pulling Sho and Natsuo with me which caused Fuyumi and Midoriya to stand we clapped louder and cheered “For the new Number one Hero!” I screamed and then the five of us cheered more as others started to stand and clap louder. I looked at Fuyumi who smiled back and nodded. After the crowd calmed down and sat he gave a short speech, almost another thirty minutes of closing speech we finally got to leave.

“Finally! I’m free!” I cheered running straigh into Natsuo’s back as he stopped out of nowhere. “My face.” I groaned pushing away from him, it was in that moment I realized how big he actually was, “Wow, you’re actually tall.” I leaned to use his head to block the sun.

He looked back over his shoulder at me, “huh? Did you say something down there?” He... he just... he just bullied me for my height... “I-...” I look esta him and swallowed, “IM TELLING FUYUMI YOURE BULLYING ME!”

I watched his eyes widen and turned to rush to Fuyumi and he screamed, “wait...NO”

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“Natsuuoooooo?” I poked his cheek as he sat pouting arms crossed, “Nat...Suo? Nat... pssst hey Nat, you still mad?” I poked his cheek again and smiled watching him force back a smile. “Come one, you cant be mad.” I poked his cheek causing him to smile briefly before he forced it back again, so I quickly summoned a feather and poked his cheek distracting him before using it to tickle his other side causing him to laugh.

“Alright fine fine, I’m not mad anymore.” He wheezed as I pulled my feather away, plucking it from the air. “A hero’s work is never done.” I gave an exaggerated sigh and he a single laugh kinda like a scoff, “Some hero you are, you get innocent pedestrians hurt to save them.” he crossed his arms and snapped his head the other way, unamused I felt me brows go up, “Innocent? Pedestrian? You?” I paused when he gave me an offended look. “I don’t think so.”

“Natsuo-“ We turned to look at Shoto, the two of having been sitting outside on a stone bench after Fuyumi scolded him strongly and I pulled into it.

“Yes?” He asked standing up and popping his back.

“Our father, asked if you could head back with Fuyumi to the hotel to pick up her bag of clothes. She left it when she was rushing out. Well meet for lunch before we do anything else.” Shoto said leaning his head to the side slightly.

“Oh,” he looked at me and then over his shoulder at the doors we had both just sulked out of, “yeah, well take a Taxi. I’ll get Fuyumi and we’ll leave.” He nodded and turned to leave.

I moved to stand by Sho, “So?” I asked elbowing him slightly, “how was last night?” “Well, I could ask you the same.” He side eyed me, “Take your phone with you next time you jump out a window.” I didn’t miss the amusement in his eyes, “Right,” I nodded and he closed his eyes a small smile on his lips. “Now, where are we going for lunch?”

“Oh! I read about this American style fondue place! It’s supposed to be really good! So I kinda wanted to try it and I was going to suggest it but, it’s pricey so, eheh, ya know.” I shrugged and Shoto’s brief look of amusement came back, you want what Kaminari told me is a Glucose Guardian, someone who pays for what you want.” I choked, “Sugar daddy.”

“What?”

“What. Nothing, so, lunch? I’m hungry? Also I’m riding in front move.” I rushed past him jumping into the passenger seat before he followed after Deku had met him. I was buzzing in my seat and the took Enji’s hand the moment he was sat and started driving, I squeezed his hand staring out the window, watching the building and cars pass. It felt so nostalgic, but how could it be nostalgic?

“Where are we eating?” I turned to Enji at his question, before looking at Sho through the mirror, “There’s this place Y/n was talking about.” I felt a squeeze to my hand meeting Enji’s stare as he looked at me briefly before looking at the road, “Where is it?”

I smiled and used my free hand to grab my phone, “it’s not to far from here, we should be able to make it in ten minutes if traffic is good.” I clicked away typing the address, “Yup, go straight, take a right at the light, and it should be a large glass building on the corner! It’s a fondue place, more American style!” I tried to talk and explain while squeezing Enji’s hand at the excitement I was feeling. Upon getting to the restaurant we waited a while, having sent Fuyumi and Natsuo the address we waited at least half an hour until we got a call.

“Dad, I don’t think we’ll be able to do lunch today, a really bad wreck caused a traffic jam on this side of the city, it’s an estimated two hour wait until we can move, well find a place to eat once we get closer if you all want to go ahead and eat we’ll be fine.” Before he could answer Shoto spoke “Thank you for your sacrifice.”

“We should go then?” I questioned looking around the car.

“Yes.” Enji said turning the key and opening his door to get out.

After we all got out the car, we started our way towards the restaurant. I awed at it, we made it in met with a nice man, “Welcome to The Melting Hot Pot! How many will be in your party?”

We all looked up at Enji, “Four.” We all nodded, it felt as if we were judging him.

“Would you like a private room or to be seated in our public seating area.”

“Private.” He nodded and the host nodded, “You can follow me this way.”

“Will this be you’re first time dining with us?” We all slid into seats in the large luxurious looking booth, it’s was in a room with a sliding screen door for privacy.

“Yes it will.”

“Great! I’ll give you the crash course before you’re waiter comes to attend to your table.”

After about seven minutes and looking at a menu the Host left and we started to talk about what sounded good.

“Wisconsin cheddar cheese?” Shoto asked.

“Flaming turtle... sounds painful...” Midoriya was staring at the opposite side of the menu.

“Maybe... we should start with a salad? Before we start looking at the fondue, there’s.. Wisconsin Wedge... California... Caesar... and a house, so, what sounds good?”

We tried to talk it out but no luck, we ended up right where we started, until Midoriya looked at Enji, “Mr.Endeavor sir,” I held back a laugh.

He hummed staring at Deku, his face didn’t change making him seem angry or annoyed, “What?”

Midoriya flinched.

“Maybe you.... you have more experience with this than we do, do you have a-any... advice?”

Enji nodded, “Get a California Salad, you’re allowed two cheeses, well get the Wisconsin Cheddar and Quattro Formaggio, for entree you’ll get a classic plate that comes with Pork, shrimp, chicken and steak cooked in a Mojo style broth, and for two desserts you’ll get a flaming turtle and Yin & Yang mix.”

We all stared at him, “Have you been here before?” I asked interested.

“No,” he held up a rectangular piece of plastic lined paper, “It’s a recommended course.”

“That’s very convenient.” I mumbled and we all looked as our waiter slid the door open finally entering.

“Hello, sorry for being late, what can I bring you to drink.”

“A tea, please.” Shoto and Midoriya spoke at the same time.

“Alright, two sweet iced teas,” and for you, she turned to me, “A spirit free watermelon cooler.”

“Good choice, and for you sir?” She turned to Enji who was looking at the menu, “A Billionaire’s Coffee.” He didn’t even look at her.

“Alright,” she looked at us, “I’ll get your drinks and be right back to take your order.”

She left and we casually just sat there looking around at the decor.

“I like the low lights, it’s nice kinda cosy.” I talked out loud to no one, before I looked at Midoriya locking eyes contact, “perfect place for a date.”

He chocked on air and brought his arm to his face blushing stuttering out things I didn’t understand. I laughed a bit, enjoying the show before he calmed down when the waiter appeared.

“Alright, what are we getting?” She looked at us and all I did was look up at Enji, he sighed, “We’d like to try the Complete Fondue experience for four.” He tapped the plastic with his finger and she noted it, “in that exact order.”

She nodded again, “An exact copy of the full experience, now before I head out, does anyone want to add a lobster tail or any extra meats to their plates?”

“No,”

“No thank you.”

“No, I’m good.”

“No.”

“Alright then, I’ll be turning on the burners, they will get hot, please do not touch them.” She pulled out a small metal stand with a promotional flyer and placed it on the burners before she left.

“I’m excited.” I reached over under the table and took Enji’s hand and brought it back to my lap squeezing his bigger hand between mine.

His hand squeezed mine, I smiled up at him before looking down at his hand, callused, warm. Scars were present but hardly noticeable, I ran my thumb over his knuckles, losing myself in the patterns I began to draw, feeling myself fall into a feeling of nostalgia.

“Y/n,” I looked up at the sound, “Hm?” I hummed in response looking around.

“Are you fine?” Shoto asked his voice soft but his brows were furrowed.

“Yeah, just thinking about school and the internships.” I shrugged, “We’ve been through a lot with everything that’s happened, it’s hard to believe we’re just first year.”

“Hm.” Shoto nodded and I pulled a hand up and lates it palm up on the table.

“Honestly, the more I think about it, the more I see and the more we do, it kinda scares me,” I looked at a scar it ran from the side of my wrist to the back of my hand, it was a deep wound from my Internship, “But seeing everything also makes me realize,” I balled my fist up smiling, “There’s so much space for new hero’s to rise and it excites me knowing one day I’ll be out there fighting for a chance to be number one.”

“Ambitious.” I flinched at the waiters voice who slid the door closed as she entered, “You must be in a hero school then.”

“I, yes, I am.” I nodded and looked away.

“I’ve never heard of you, you must not be that well known. Everyone however would be able to notice our lovely new number one hero Endeavor.” She smiled and patted Enji who just gave her a side eye and she quickly pulled her hand away.

I let out a mix of a scoff and a laugh, “You must live under a rock, or be uncultured, I’m from UA, were our sports festival is streamed publicly almost everywhere throughout the prefecture and surrounding cities, not to mention I was in the news quite a few times with Endeavor and Pro Hero Hawks, I was on headlines and on front page covers of newspapers and magazines, if you can’t recognize me it really goes to show what kind of woman you are.” I made a face and she made a face back.

Before we started a stare down another person walked in, “Alright, here comes a hot pot, everyone be careful.”

As the second waiter was setting up the meal I couldn’t help but mumble to myself, “Bite me, it’s what rabid dogs do anyways.”

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After eating and Midoriya and I burning ourselves multiple times on hot cheese fondue we finished our desserts and started to head out.

We stepped out into the dark, the afternoon sun had set and the cities night life was crawling out into the streets, lights lit up outside patios, rooftops had flames lit lighting tables, tinted windows were lit up showing the chandeliers that hide during the day. Ladies in fancy dresses and men in suits and flashy attire. It was in that moment I realized how wrong our relationship is, I’m in UA, I’m only 16, sure the consent age is lower then that but, I, this is morally wrong in some eyes... I could ruin Enji’s career if anyone ever found out... I felt a sense of worry fill me. No one knew, I didn’t care before. So what scares me now?

“So! What are we doing tomorrow?” I looked at Enji and Shoto as we walked, Midoriya was unintentionally hidden by Shoto.

“It’s a surprise.” Shoto answered very bluntly and I squinted at him, “Very helpful.”

“How are Fuyumi and....” I paused the name leaving me and looked down, embarrassed, thinking, his name just couldn’t be Naruto because it’s pretty close to that anyways, “Natsuo! Heh! I remembered.”

“Fuyumi messaged me, they tried a curry at an Indian restaurant near the hotel, Natsuo also now holds the title for eating a plate of the spiciest curry in under an hour.” Shoto said flashing us his phone which had a very red smiling Natsuo holding a certificate and a $200 dollar check.

“That’s... impressive.” I was impressed, but it seemed like a painful thing.

I felt my phone buzz, I answered if, “Hello?”

“Hey y/n! It’s Fuyumi, I’d you don’t mind when you get to the hotel can you stop by the hotel shop and pick up something for indigestion or upset stomach, maybe heart burn?”

“Oh,” I smiled, “Yeah, I can do that, we’re on the way back about to get in the car, the streets are empty so we should be there soon, so, I’ll get it for you.”

“Thank you, sorry for the burden but I feel bad for leaving Natsuo while his stomach is hurting this much.”

“Don’t worry! I’m a hero, it’s what I do.” I smiled getting into the car as we reached it.

“Still, thank you y/n.” She sounds like she was smiling, I could feel it, in that moment how much she really cared for her family. It kinda warmed my heart in a way I can’t describe.

“Alright, see you then.” I ended the call and explained everything on the way over, Enji sighed and rubbed his forehead before pinching the bridge of his knows shaking his head. I smiled, noticing the edge of his lips twitch upwards a bit before he forced it down mumbling out Natsuo’s name and something I couldn’t hear.

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Tag list

@waffleees-world @daedaep69 @gabrielislovegabrielislife @sabrinakishi @mae3solo

[tyongxnct]

𝑤𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑘 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 - 𝐿𝑒𝑒 𝐽𝑒𝑛𝑜

pairing: Jeno x reader

special guest: Jaemin

summary: Jeno and you used to be deeply in love. Your relationship was almost too good to be true. But after a while, the perfect relationship was anything but perfect. No more talking about your problems, just yelling and shouting until you had enough. The lack of communication destroyed your relationship and moving on was harder than you two thought.

song: we don’t talk anymore - Selena Gomez

genre: angst, breakup!au

warnings: swearing

word count: 3.7k

A/N: can’t believe that i’m almost done with the series, omg. I hope you enjoy this 💖 

taglist: @alex-chann​, @aesthetichrj​

© tyongxnct on all platforms

We don't talk anymore We don't talk anymore We don't talk anymore Like we used to do We don't love anymore What was all of it for? Oh, we don't talk anymore Like we used to do

Your relationship with Jeno was almost perfect, a love just like the ones written in fairytales. You were snow white and he was prince charming, he saved you when you were at your lowest. He held your hand and never let go. You were Arielle and he was prince Eric. You would give up anything for him just like Arielle gave up her voice to be with Eric. Your love was so strong, so real, and so simple. The key was communication. You always talked to each other no matter what was going on. Whether it was about jealousy, decisions about the future, family problems or difficulties with friends. You talked about everything and anything and you always found a solution. Whenever you had a disagreement you talked about it and all the problems were solved like that.

But your relationship didn’t end with a happy ending like all the fairytales did.

The communication stopped and your relationship slowly fell apart.

“How was your day?” you asked him. Jeno was busy with his phone and you tried to get his attention.

“Good.”

Next try.

“I talked to my mother this morning. She missed us and I told her we would visit her this weekend I hope that’s okay for you.”

Jeno’s face lit up with anger. “I told you I was busy. You can’t just tell her that we’ll visit. A no is a no, Y/n. I don’t have time to visit your family what’s so hard to understand?”

“I know that you’re busy, but I thought that you should relax a little and stop worrying about work-“

“You want me to relax and stop worry about work? Who’s gonna pay the bills If I just relax?” he hissed. He had a long day, and he wasn’t in the mood to talk to you.

“It’s just for one weekend-“

“Cancel it. Or you know what? Just go without me. Go visit your mother and let me relax at home without you nagging about everything for once.” Jeno left the living room and entered the kitchen. A bottle of beer would help him calm down, he thought.

“We’re not done, Jeno. Can you just consider it without being an ass?”

“I’m not going to discuss this with you. I’m exhausted. Let me be, for god’s sake.”

You left him alone in the kitchen just like he wanted to be, you entered your bedroom and got changed to go to sleep. You weren’t sure If you changed, but Jeno changed for sure. He’s cold and always so moody. You couldn’t even have a simple conversation with him.

You left the apartment without saying anything to Jeno. He was at work and whenever you called or texted, he got mad. You decided to visit your family, maybe a three-day break would help your relationship get back to normal, you really hoped it would.

Jeno entered the apartment and instead of smelling the delicious food you always made, he was welcomed by silence and an empty apartment. Jeno looked around but you were nowhere to be seen. Some of your clothes were also gone and he started to panic.

He called you immediately and he was furious. How could you leave without telling him anything?

“Hello?”

“Where the fuck are you?” he asked angrily.

“Jeno I told you that I was going to visit my parents why are you acting like this?” you hissed back.

“I-I forgot- but you could’ve told me this morning! Or last night, do you really think I can remember everything you tell me?!”

He kept yelling even though he knew that you didn’t do anything wrong.

“Are you being serious right now? You can’t even remember one thing I tell you and you get angry at me? Maybe you should listen to me the first time instead of acting like I did something wrong. I’m going to turn my phone off until Monday. Don’t try to contact me.” And you hung up without letting him speak again.

Jeno angrily threw his phone on the bed and took off his clothes to take a shower. He knew that you were right, but he would never admit that. He should be happy, he could finally relax and have fun without you being there 24/7.

You thought that he would change when you come back, but he didn’t.

He was still the same. Not listening but always complaining and ignoring your feelings. Three days with your family made you happier than the last three months with Jeno.

After another week with him, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“This, whatever this is, is not good for us! There’s not a moment you’re not complaining or yelling at me! Not a single I love you left your mouth since I don’t even know, two months! You’re always telling me that everything I do is wrong and that you’re sick of me! T-This isn’t the relationship we once had. There’s no love- just pain. All I feel when I look at you is pain a-and I don’t want that… I-I just want you to love me, but this is going nowhere. So I’m going to say it now,” you inhaled deeply, “L-Let’s just break up and stop our suffering.”

Tears streamed down your face and you couldn’t even remember the last time you had cried like this. Your heart was breaking, and it hurt so much, but you knew that he’d never do the first step and just break up with you because he hated being confronted. The communication died just like your relationship.

“Fine. Then leave. If you want to break up, let’s do it. Let’s end it here.” Jeno’s blood was boiling with anger, he thought, but it was actually pain and the fear of losing you. But just like always, he didn’t talk to you about your problems and just agreed on breaking up.

I just heard you found the one you've been looking You've been looking for I wish I would have known that wasn't me 'Cause even after all this time, I still wonder Why I can't move on Just the way you did so easily

Don't wanna know Kind of dress you're wearing tonight If he's holding onto you so tight The way I did before I overdosed Should've known your love was a game Now I can't get you out of my brain Oh, it's such a shame

It’s been almost eight months since your breakup with Jeno. With every passing second, your memories slowly faded. You moved out and moved into a small apartment on the other side of the city, far, far away from place you once called home. It took you a little time to finally get used to the fact that you and Jeno weren’t together anymore.

You weren’t actually looking for someone new, the empty spot in your heart wasn’t 100% ready to be filled again, but when you met Na Jaemin, a literal angel, you couldn’t help but slowly fall for him. You met him in a bookstore, while you were looking for a new book to read, he was working there and helped you find the perfect book and after you finished the book, you spend all of your time in the little bookstore with him. Your relationship with Jaemin started as friends but your heart skipped a beat whenever you were with him and you knew that you wanted to be more than friends. Jaemin could swear that it was love at first sight, when he saw you while you looked through the bookstore and after he got to know you, he fell even harder.

He knew about your relationship with Jeno and he agreed on taking it slow. He showered you with so much love and he was always there for you.

It was one of your friends birthdays when you met Jeno again. She was a mutual friend, and you didn’t want to go at first, but Jaemin encouraged you to face him.

You changed your outfit, even though you weren’t really in the mood to wear a dress but you still wore one. You wanted to show your sexy side to Jaemin. The poor guy always saw you wearing oversized hoodies and sweatpants, but he always told you that you looked hot and sexy, no matter what you were wearing.

“I didn’t know that Y/n has a new boyfriend.” Jeno heard someone say.

“Oh yeah, his name is Jaemin. I’ve met him a couple weeks ago and I’ve never seen her happier.”

Jeno looked at the girl talking. How would she know how happy you were before? How would she know that you weren’t happier when you were with him? You were always happy with him, he thought. Well, you were always happy until he decided to hurt you.

He still remembers how hard you tried and how he pushed you away. You gave your everything to save your relationship but Jeno didn’t care and when you broke up with him, he just let you.

But he was sure, that nobody could make you happier than he could. Right?

You have a new boyfriend, so what?

It’s been months, but you were still the only thing on Jeno’s mind. He was nervous, maybe coming to the club was a stupid decision. He didn’t know why you were still on his mind after months of pushing you away. Why is he thinking about you? Why is he always dreaming of you?

You weren’t thinking about him anymore, you moved on. You moved on and found someone new, someone who made you happier.

Why couldn’t he stop seeing you everywhere?

Why couldn’t he stop missing you?

Jeno started to panic.

He didn’t want to see you. He didn’t want to see you with someone else. He didn’t want to see you happy without him.

You were playing with his heart and his brain. You were the one who left and when you left you took a part of his heart with you and after you left, everything fell apart and he hated you. Jeno hated you because you played with him, you made him think that it was his fault and after you left, everything reminded you of him and he was broken.

But he knew that it was his fault.

No matter how hard he tried to push the thought away, that he destroyed the best thing he had, deep inside, he knew that he destroyed it with his own two hands.

While Jeno was deep in thoughts, he didn’t even notice that he was drinking and drinking and when he saw you walk to your friend with a stranger holding your hand, he finished his fifth glass of whiskey in one go. Jeno was actually drinking a simple cocktail, he can’t remember when he changed his drink to something stronger. You looked, well, you looked as beautiful as always, but the big smile on your face was almost foreign to him, he thought.

When was the last time you smiled like that when you were with him?

He couldn’t remember.

Jeno’s grip around his glass tightened as he watched that guy put his hand on your waist, pulling you closer.

You greeted all of your friends and Jeno watched you from the bar.

Jeno was jealous, not only because Jaemin could hold you, but also because of all of the other guys who looked at you. He hated it, he always hated it. Jeno hated the fact that someone looked at his girlfriend. Whenever you talked about his jealousy you assured him that there was no reason to get jealous and with time, his jealousy wasn’t as bad as it was before.

But right now, he felt like he was going to explode.

Jaemin held you tightly, he knew that Jeno was there but he wasn’t worried. After everything you told him, he knew that there was absolutely no reason to be worried. He trusted you and you trusted him.

You introduced Jaemin to a couple friends, he was nice to everyone and when you were so into the conversation with your friend, Jaemin kissed your cheek and told you that he’s going to get you and himself something to drink.

He knew what you liked, he didn’t have to ask you.

When Jaemin walked to the bar, Jeno watched him with anger in his eyes. Jaemin didn’t notice and when he leaned against the bar, right next to Jeno, he ordered two drinks. Jaemin thanked the bartender and walked back to you.

His hands and lips were all over you, Jeno’s blood was boiling.

You danced with Jaemin and Jeno was ready to leave the club, he couldn’t watch you have fun with someone else. It hurt too much. But when he was about to leave, your eyes met his.

Time stood still.

Jeno couldn’t hear the loud crowd of the club and the loud music anymore, all he could hear was your voice, your broken voice telling him that you wanted to break up.

Let’s just break up and stop our suffering.

Let’s just break up and stop our suffering.

Let’s just break up and stop our suffering.

You were suffering when you were with Jeno and Jeno realized how much of a fool he was. How he took you for granted and how he ignored your feelings.

Jeno hurt you.

You just wanted to feel loved and Jeno couldn’t give you that. You talked to him, you told him how hurt you were, how much you missed him. You were in pain and it was his fault.

Jeno realized, that he always loved you.

He shouldn’t have let you go. He shouldn’t have agreed to break up. He should’ve tried to change, to be better for you, to show you how much he actually loved you. But it was over now, you were not his anymore and it was all his fault.

You softly smiled at Jeno, even after everything he put you through, you were still too nice to him.

Jeno’s eyes were empty, just like your side of his bed, just like his heart. You filled his life with joy, love, and happiness. His heart was full of love for you, but now it was just pain and longing.

Jeno tried to smile back at you, he wanted to tell you so many things, but he couldn’t.

His eyes filled with tears, his fist clenched, his gaze left you and he tried not to cry in the middle of a club. He was so drunk and he couldn’t let his drunk self take over and hurt you further, that’s how he looked one last time at you and left the club without thinking twice.

Jeno wanted to go home and drink until he couldn’t feel that arche in his heart anymore.

I just hope you're lying next to somebody Who knows how to love you like me There must be a good reason that you're gone Every now and then I think you might want me to Come show up at your door But I'm just too afraid that I'll be wrong

Don't wanna know If you're looking into her eyes If she's holding onto you so tight The way I did before I overdosed Should've known your love was a game Now I can't get you out of my brain Oh, it's such a shame

six months ago

It’s been two months since your breakup with Jeno. You missed him. You missed Jeno so much, it hurt. Being apart from Jeno hurt you even more.

You didn’t know what you were supposed to do.

It was almost midnight and your heart fought against your brain.

What if Jeno missed you too?

What if Jeno thought about you?

What if he regrets how he acted and was sorry?

You couldn’t take it anymore.

You didn’t know how you ended up in front of his apartment, but you found yourself in your car. You heart won against your brain.

What if he laughs at you?

What if he kicks you out?

What if he was over you?

But, what if he wants you back?

You were afraid, you were so afraid and the second you unclasped your belt you saw Jeno with a girl in his arms.

He was holding her hand.

He was smiling brightly.

He was done with you.

The sight in front of you broke your heart once again. You didn’t think he’d move on that fast, but then again you didn’t know if he started seeing her after your breakup. What if he cheated on you with her?

You closed your eyes and inhaled deeply.  

Seeing Jeno with someone else hurt, but you realized that moment that you had to move on too. You didn’t want to suffer anymore, you didn’t want to be sad anymore. You couldn’t hold onto something that was breaking you apart. It was over and there was no going back.

Present

When your eyes met Jeno’s, you smiled genuinely. You held eye contact for a second and you realized that he looked… broken? He didn’t look like the Jeno you once knew. Dark bags under his eyes and his eyes were red, he couldn’t even walk properly, he was too drunk and you knew how Jeno was when he drank too much.

You weren’t going to talk to him, not because you were still angry and hurt, no. There was no reason to talk to your ex-boyfriend. You moved on and you were happier than ever. You loved Jaemin so much and you felt loved, Jaemin is all you need.

You hoped that Jeno was also happy just like you were. No matter what happened between you two, Jeno was always someone kindhearted and you wanted him to be happy. You hoped that he was with someone who loved him as much as you did.

You saw that he tried to smile at you, but when he blinked you saw how glossy his eyes were and right after, he left the club.

“Baby, are you alright?” Jaemin asked you.

“Yes, I’m fine. I love you.” You once again realized that you needed to lose Jeno to find your true love, Jaemin.

That we don't talk anymore We don't talk anymore We don't talk anymore Like we used to do We don't love anymore What was all of it for? Oh, we don't talk anymore Like we used to do

The ringing of your phone woke you up in the middle of the night. An unknown number called you.

“Hello?” you mumbled.

There was no answer.

“Who’s there?”

“H-Hi, Y/n.”

“Jeno?” you sat up in your bed, your back resting against the bedframe.

“Yes… it’s me. I’m sorry that I called you this late but-“ he stopped talking.

“But?”

“I- I just wanted to hear you voice.” He whispered.

“Jeno-“

“N-No please, just listen to me? Okay? Please.” He begged.

“Fine.

“E-Ever since I saw you at the club… I-I can’t get you out of my head- wait, no that’s not true, I couldn’t get you out my head for the last months now. A-And when I saw you again, I just… I just didn’t know what to do, so I called you and I want to tell you, that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for how I treated you. I’m sorry for hurting you, I-I’m so fucking sorry that I let you go that easily. I should’ve tried to keep you- there are so many things I regret.” He sobbed.

“Jeno-“

“I’m not done. I hate myself so much. I feel so lonely and I miss you. I miss you so much- I miss what we had before I destroyed everything- I miss holding you, kissing you and loving you.”

“What about your girlfriend? I thought you were happy with her?” you asked, there was no emotion in your voice.

“Girlfriend? What girlfriend?” he asked confused.

“Two months after our breakup I, uhm, I drove to your house and I saw you holding hands with a girl. You looked happy. I thought you were happy.” You admitted.

“N-No no, there’s no one. S-she was just someone I hooked up with, she didn’t mean anything to me. I promise you that she was just distraction.” Jeno rambled, “But what were you doing there?”

“I,” you breathed in and out, “I wanted to try again. I thought we could start over or something. I don’t know. I had missed you.”

“Y-You wanted to try again? You mean there was a chance for us to get back together?” he couldn’t stop his tears, “You mean I destroyed another chance with you?”

“It’s better this way.”

“No! I can’t believe this, I could be with you right now, I could be holding you right now. I could-“ his voice broke, “I fuck up everything. I let you suffer and I don’t know what to do. I-I love you, I never stopped loving you.”

“Jeno, I’m sorry, but I’m in a happy relationship. It’s over, I’m really sorry but-“

“No, please give me another chance, I��ll show you how much I love you, please Y/n, I love you I can make you happy, give me one last chance to make everything right-“

“I love Jaemin. I really love him. I don’t think we should be talking right now, I’m sorry but please don’t call me ever again.” You didn’t want to hurt him further but this conversation was going nowhere.

“Please, don’t do this to us, please, I love you I-I really do. I missed you voice so much, don’t hang up please. Y/n, I love you. Please tell me that you love me too, please.”

“I’m sorry.”

You could hear his whimpers and cries and you would be lying if you said that it didn’t hurt you hearing him cry like that. But you moved on and there was no way that you go back to Jeno.

“N-No, I’m sorry, so sorry for everything- I-I hope he k-knows how rare you are. I didn’t know that and then I lost you. I love you.”

“Goodbye Jeno.”

“Goodbye, Y/n…I love you.”

SEQUEL: the way I loved you