#like forreal he's so fucking pretty

[kkoct-ik]

rewatching a dr2 lp and i honestly never noticed how much hajime dissociates. i almost wanna make a masterpost

[unexpectedbrickattack]

Peppino being a little magician makes me go :)

[reserwrekt]

I'm being perceived x.x

[starkeyisthelastname]

Okay but forreal… how would it go down if babydoll’s dad caught trailer park!rafe defiling his precious daughter 😫 I can just imagine him getting more suspicious about the time his daughter is gone and one day he catches her walking into Rafe’s trailer and barges in their to see her getting absolutely defiled and disgraced by Rafe who would just smirk and be like “think it’s about time we tell him he’s gonna be a grandpa or what?” UGHHH HE’S SO MEAN I LUV HIM

uh oh 🤭

With you being pregnant, you had been spending nearly all your time over at Rafe’s. You weren’t very far along, your bump barely noticeable to most. You were in your own little world, happy as can be to be pregnant with Rafe’s baby and very hormonal. You were even more clingy with him, nearly had a meltdown when he left to go get beer one night and needed dick all the time.

Your father had been growing a little suspicious of you here recently as you seemed to never be home anymore. It was now the third day this week you hadn’t been at the trailer when he had gotten off work and he couldn’t get past it. So much so he got in his truck and began slowly driving down the road to see if you were around the park anywhere. Surely he had nothing to worry about and you were just finishing up handing out the cookies you liked to make for everyone.

He was about to turn around when he spotted a flash of pink at one of a familiar trailer. His eyes widened in a flash of horror as he saw you walking into the run down dump that was Rafe Cameron’s. The same man that never paid rent on time, had a major attitude problem and got drunk all day off of cheap beer. What was his innocent daughter doing anywhere around that piece of trash? Your father didn’t know what he had expected to see when he barged in Rafe’s trailer door, but it definitely wasn’t you on that filthy man’s lap doing things he never thought you would ever partake in. He didn’t even have words to process the sight he saw in front of him.

You were so incredibly needy, Rafe’s huge cock stretching your leaking hole as he whispered dirty words in your ear. His large hands gripped your waist that was barely starting to round out, reminding himself you were indeed knocked up with his baby. He smiled at the thought, facial hair tickling your neck as you threw your head back against his broad shoulder. “Such a desperate little thing for cock now that I got you pregnant, huh?” His voice rough as you had barely walked through the front door before he had your pretty little pink dress up as you were begging to be filled.

It was the door slamming open that made his blue eyes look up an instant look of gratification on his face as he saw your father standing there in shock. You were so cock drunk too, that you couldn’t do anything but sit there and continue to take it up your fluttering cunt. He let out a small laugh, staring the old man right in the face as he continued to thrust upward. He was sick for doing this, but then again really gave zero fucks. He wanted this to happen, to finally show that miserable bastard that he had ownership of your sugary sweet self now.

“Well look who it is babydoll. Takin’ a bad man’s dick up your little fuckhole for your pops to finally see. Should we tell him he’s gonna be a grandpa?” Rafe’s voice raspy as your beautiful moans still echoed off the trailer walls. Oh he had you completely ruined and he was loving every dirty second of it. Here you were taking dick up your pretty cunt that he had broken open and nutted into, now to only be a hormonal mess that couldn’t get anything out but “Fuck me..”

[haute-honey]

astro obs.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Libras are always expected to give others something. Others always seem to look to them to give them their time, energy, love, affection, hell even their life. Of course they have issues with people pleasing because people naturally want to take take take from them. When they try to establish boundaries, all hell breaks loose leading them to never try to establish them again.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Speaking of Libra, I'm seeing a lot of posts about how *gay* we are lol Which made me wonder and think back on all the times I've had other women who I thought I was in true platonic friendships with fall head over heels in love with me and admit their true feelings to me. First time it happened I was literally in 4th grade.... How do we hetero Libras turn the gayness off or are y'all going off of what is stereotypically gay?

🤸🏽‍♀️ Libra rising are indecisive because when they make a hasty decision or impulsive decision, 9 times out of 10 it blows up in their face. Let them take their time dammit!

🤸🏽‍♀️ + libra rising kids not only experience bullying/jealousy/evil eye from their peers, they'll even experience it from full grown adults.

🤸🏽‍♀️ I saw someone mention that not liking 6th house synastry is because you enjoy toxicity in relationships...and I disagree. I think 6th house synastry depends on the type of relationship and the sign that it is in. For me, the 6th house works more for friendships and professional relationships rather than romantic relationships. As a straight woman, the sign my 6h is in is not ideal for a relationship for me due to other placements in my chart.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Furthermore, what synastry works for you best or what synastry you find to be most romantic is based on you and your chart. Don't let any of these "astrology girlies" pump your head up with bs just because it works for them.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Fellow scorpio placements (esp you scorpio suns) I'm gonna hold your hand when I say this, someone making you aware when you're exhibiting toxic/bad behavior does not equate to them being unloyal or betraying you. You need people around you that'll hold you accountable for the fucked up shit you do sometimes. No, it doesn't make them a snake or mean that they don't love you but my god, get a grip girl and be so motherfuckingly forreal.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Aquarius men aren't the challenge yall think they are... they're just detached. If that is not your style of love, move along.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Lilith energy is for women/feminines. If you are looking at Lilith through a synastry chart, the one who holds that power when it comes to how Lilith is placed is the feminine in the equation (if there is one). Men/masculines are subdued by Lilith. Not the other way around. For example, if a man's Lilith conjuncts a woman's Venus, he won't be able to use that power over her because he will not connect to it and will not know how to use it.

🤸🏽‍♀️ It is SO FUNNY when I read other observations on Libra placements. Its either we are mean girls/bullies or we are fake/people pleasers lmfao As someone with a lot of prominent Libra placements and influence, I have always had to deal with the fake allegations or the bitchy/intimidating mean girl allegations. Its like if we're not kissing ass we are the meanest bitches but if we are trying to make an effort to please everyone, we are people pleasing fake ass bitches 😆 I need y'all to pick a side and stay there when addressing Libras.

🤸🏽‍♀️ To say a venusian ruled person (Libra/Taurus suns, risings, venus) is a copy cat is laughable because they are the ones getting their swag stolen or having people wanting to be their friends to siphon their aura/vibe. Ex: Cleopatra a Taurus sun (Venus) had her "friend" copy her entire style/aesthetic.

🤸🏽‍♀️ I applaud the female/feminine Libras who have given up on pleasing others and have taken on the bitch allegations with pride because fuck these people. Y'all are weirdos who expect pretty women to fit into whatever box you feel like they should to appease your own self esteem. Seek help.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Degrees absolutely have effects on the natal chart and don't let anyone tell you otherwise! You might resonate more with whatever sign rules over the degree of your sign or rising rather than the actual sign that sit in those placements.

🤸🏽‍♀️ I saw someone say that a unevolved Sagittarius man is scared of sex........... while that could be true they are more often than not sexual deviants when unevolved.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Speaking of sagittarius, Jupiter ruled people quite literally NEED Jupiter to help them out and provide them with more luck than the rest of us because these people are the ultimate self sabotagers. They love trouble, they enjoy creating chaos often then not. And Jupiter is always there to put out the fires they start.

🤸🏽‍♀️ You can't really tell anyone what synastry is best for romantic relationships vs which ones you deem worse because at the end of the day it is all about preferences. If you like a familial feel to your relationships, you'll probably like 4th house synastry. However, if you're like me and come from a veryyyy dysfunctional family, 4h synastry will repulse you. So figure out your own vibe and what you like in a relationship and go from there.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Women with prominent sagittarius placements often are seen by outsiders as the "cool" or "fun" moms when really they can be verrrrrry neglectful towards their children. Ask me how I know lol

🤸🏽‍♀️ Saw someone say that Scorpio sun and moon placements can be backhandedly bully people and this is when I have to bring up the issues of generalization when y'all are making these "observation" posts. Any placement has the potential to be a bully. Literally any of them. However, why Scorpio sun and/or moon might stand out is because they can be LETHAL with their words (ex. Tia Kemp - Scorpio sun). Like they really know how to cut somebody up with their words and they are QUICK with it. Kind of like a scorpion with their tail. So be mindful and don't take it there with them if you can't keep up because you'll need therapy after they get done with you.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Scorpio moon women are either resenting other women or being resented by other women. It can go either way.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Gemini women are the ladies that look a mess 99% of the time and I like that about them.

[madamechrissy]

=͟͟͞♡ Healing Hearts =͟͟͞♡

=͟͟͞♡ Pairings:-Doctor Gojo x Intern F!Reader

=͟͟͞♡ Contents/warnings- Medical procedures, surgery descriptions, crazy sexual tension, eventually explicit sex etc. ER setting. Reader 26, Dr. Gojo 34, small age gap, work sex, complications, lots of humor, eventual drama and angst. Grey's vibes ✨️

=͟͟͞♡ Summary- You are the top Surgical Doctor intern, along with Maki, Yuta and Toge. You all are exhausted from passing the first month, sixteen plus hour days, days you don't even go home, all to get a top spot with the star Surgeon, Dr. Gojo, your resident doctor and boss. Or as you call him, Dr. Hojo. He's takes nothing serious but his surgeries it seems, and has a reputation for being a player, but he has that top spot, so you want to prove your worth! You just have to ignore those stupid butterflies he gives you, and those pretty blue eyes, along with his interest in you, and focus!

Comment to get added to the tag list

=͟͟͞♡ Playlist =͟͟͞♡ Masterlist =͟͟͞♡

♡ Part One ♡

Fuck, you’re exhausted, the first month of your internship as a surgeon was brutal, you haven’t had but a couple hours of sleep here and there, mostly on some of the hospital beds. Your bones ache, your skincare routine is barely hanging by a thread, and your hair is a wreck in a messy bun today. You thought med school was difficult, but it was nothing like this.

“Hey, you okay babe?” Your best friend Maki Zenin asks softly, you look at her and smile, nodding, she purses her lips, tilting her glasses.  “No you’re not.”

“I’m wiped, Maki. This patient injected cocaine up his ass.” She bursts out laughing right in the middle of the hospital floor, you cover her mouth quickly, looking around. “Shh!”

“Shit, forreal? I thought my case was bad, he’s been here eight times for hits of pain meds since I have been here, he keeps bashing his hand on shit.” She sighs, handing her files to the desk then picking up several more.

You’re both in your pale blue scrubs, Maki’s pretty green hair is high up in a ponytail, now your other two best friends from your internship come up, Inumaki Toge and Yuta Okkotsu, both looking exhausted along with you. Yuta’s eye bags rival yours by far, he slicks back his dark hair as you all check the time on your watches.

“Another sixteen hours almost down.” He says through a yawn.

“Tired.” Inumaki says, and you sigh, nodding in agreement.

“Fuck that, we need to throw a party.” Maki says, somehow still so energetic, and you’re so confused how it’s possible.

“Party?” Inumaki asks, he’s certainly a man of few words, but his violet eyes explain whatever anyone needs to know.

“No way, Maki. Fuck that.” Yuta says, earning Maki sticking her tongue out at him.

“Buzz kill, ugh. Listen, this weekend, we’ll invite some of the people from our class, we can invite some of the other interns too. Ooh, maybe even those sexy resident doctors.” She wiggles her brows with a mischievous little grin.

“Maki, we're too old for that shit now.”  You grumble.

“Bitch we’re twenty six? How are we old.”

“I feel ancient.” Yuta agrees. “Coffee everyone?”

“I have to stop by Doctor Gojo’s real quick, meet you all there?” You say, and they nod, waving you off as you head to your Resident doctor’s office. Dr. Gojo was the boss of you four, one of the residents along with Dr. Nanami and Dr. Geto. All three were fawned over by all the interns, except you. 

Yes they were gorgeous, and yes Dr. Gojo was positively beautiful, with his snowy white hair, his glittery blue eyes, his big grin. But you were just too exhausted and too beat to really fawn over someone, especially someone you really could not be with, seeing as he is your resident, you’re just a little intern. Satoru also happens to be the top surgeon in the hospital.

You go to knock but see his door is cracked open, you carefully take the knob in your hand, twisting it and peeking your head in, seeing Satoru Gojo’s head fall back, as he’s gasping. You look curiously, but his hands are up on the desk, as he’s biting his lower lip, his brows together, eyes shut. You clear your throat and he jerks then, clearing his throat.

“Um… hey intern.” He says, his voice clipped. You shut the door behind you, tilting your head curiously at him, his face reddening slightly.

“Dr. Gojo, I have a question about this patient, is everything okay? It won’t take very long.” You say, and his eyes flicker over your face, an expression you can’t explain, as he sucks in a breath.

“I um… can listen… in… fuck, fuck!” He moans then, he clearly moans, and you hear a bump on his desk now. “Oh, oh that’s so much better.”

“I… what the fuck!?” He flushes then, sliding back, and one of the nurses jumps up, giggling now and wiping her mouth, she has pretty blue hair.

“Thank you Miwa, you’re a gem.” He stands, patting her head with a smile, and she giggles again, as you watch in confusion, your brows together, mouth open. “I need to talk to her about cool doctor things, I’ll see you around later?”

Cool Doctor things.

Blow jobs on the clock?

How is this your boss?

“Yes, Dr. Gojo. Hi there!” She waves at you, as if nothing has happened, as if she wasn’t just sucking Dr. Gojo off, and he’s looking bashful!?

“What the hell is this shit? Lock a door?” He comes to you, locking the big door with a click behind you. “Not now!”

“I forgot it was open, shit. I’m sorry. Stress relief, you know.” He smiles down at you, a stupid smirk you’d like to smack off his pretty face, hands in the pockets of his long white doctor jacket. “Don’t you ever need any?”

You heat up at his husky tone, as you realize just what you’d walked into. It had been a long time since you’d even thought that way, not just with Med school but now being an intern, especially since you broke up with your ex months back. “What? Yuck don’t come near me.”

“Why, ya jealous.” He brushes your hair back, earning your glare. “You’re awfully cute when you are.”

“Jealous of you? No thanks, I'm good. I sure am not part of your fan club.”

Satoru pouts. “Yeah, and you’re the only one.”

“Yep. Anyway, I’m now disturbed.” You shiver with feigned disgust, making him snort a bit in laughter. “But I only came in here to go over Mr. Lewis.” Sighing, you hand him the file with a gentle brush of your fingers against his palm. “He's been a difficult case.”

“Fuck, the cocaine dude? Ah shit, it’s that bad?”

“We have him stable, but something about it threw me off, how could it be that severe of an effect? Colitis has lasted days now and no improvement.”

“Mmm, true. But it makes sense, you can’t just inject cocaine into the anus and… have a party.” A hint of laughter escapes from his lips before he can control it, earning a stern look from you, making him study the file more carefully.

“Be serious.”

“I’m your boss, you know!”

“Yeah, somehow. Anyway, I feel there is something underlying. Perhaps exasperated by the cocaine.”

“Up the ass! Hah!” He’s smacking his long leg now, chuckling, earning your glare. “Oof you’re so serious, sorry, carry on.” He gives you a mock salute, and your eyes are so far back in your head they might stay that way.

“So I’m wondering if he has something else, untreated, the man has no history of any doctor visits since he was living with his parents.”

He taps his chin then. “Hmm, good point. It’s possible. Have we checked him for Chron’s?”

“Shit, maybe, that would make so much sense too, his white blood cell count is through the roof. I’ll leave a note to run some tests before I go.” You take the folder back then, your fingers brushing, and it brings a blush to your cheeks.

“What’s wrong, intern?”

“Just weirded out by you, Dr. Hojo.” He snorts then.

“Dr. Hojo!?”

“It’s what they call you, I guess it’s true.” You say, raising a brow, and he is leaning close, too close. You can smell that stupidly expensive cologne he wears every day, filling your senses far too much. You try to avoid those eyes, even though you look at them all the time, they still are…

Too much.

“And you don’t ever wanna just get eaten out?” You blush more now, looking down as he stands up tall, so fucking tall over you. “Don’t be shy now, we spend more time together than alone.”

“I don’t do that when not in relationships.” He pauses, and you expect some joke, since he takes nothing serious but surgery it seems. But he tilts your chin up, and studies you with those eyes, lids lowering ever so slightly.

“Aw, so you’re a good girl.” He says teasingly, causing a warm sensation to spread through your stomach at his words. You shake your head and try to ignore the fluttering feeling within you.

“Don’t say that!”

“Turn you on?”

“No! Jesus. I don’t care what people do with their bodies, I don’t care if you’re a whole manwhore-”

“Excuse me!”

“But I just need a relationship, I’m not attracted to just looks, there has to be a deeper connection.” He studies you carefully now, so serious unlike his usual goofy demeanor.

“Hmm, a challenge.”

“What now?” You glare up at him, clutching the folders to your chest tightly. “Not a challenge, you psycho. Go get all the blowjobs you want, like Thanos collecting all those infinity stones.”

He grins, sharp little fangs glinting, and you don’t like the effects it’s having on your body, or your mind. You can barely take a breath. “You’re actually so funny, holy shit.”

“You don’t really know me. Aside from work.”

“You never take me up on any of those offers of coffee, or grabbing a bite, all you do is work Missy. All work, no play, makes a sad girl.” He taps your nose, and it scrunches up, making him smile a bit. “Cute.”

“Whatever, I have to work my ass off, it’s important, I have to make sure I get to scrub in with you. That chance comes at the end of this month.”

“Well you’re the top intern I have, so don’t worry so much.” He pats your shoulder, and you blink a bit. “Surprised? How. You graduated top of the school, you bust your cute little butt, and you’re intelligent, caring for your patients. Of course I was picking you first.”

“Oh my god…”

“You’ve ruined your own surprise. Act surprised when you find out, mmkay?” You hug him then, heart racing as you think of it. “Oh so now you like me.”

“I can really scrub in to a surgery with you!?” You couldn't contain your excitement as you leaned back and looked up at Satoru Gojo. He nodded, his hands taking hold of your waist through your scrubs, and that touch?

Does things, fuck.

“I’m so sorry-”

“You’re fine, intern. Stay a little longer.” You nervously step back, his hands are still on your waist, making you tremble, as your eyes both lock.

“I can never fuck such an opportunity up. Um… thank you though, that gives me so much hope, maybe I can actually relax for two minutes!” He smiles softly, nodding, his hands falling to his sides. “I’m sorry I…”

“Interrupted? Nah. Think you made me cum quick.”

“What!?” You glare again, and his smirk makes you itch to smack him all over again. “Dr. Gojo!”

“You’re so pretty though, I think it made her job quicker. Win win.”

“I’m out of here. Ugh.” You turn away, hand on the knob, and then his comes on top of it and gently unlocks it with a twist, you feel his hard body against your back, and you get overwhelmed in his office, damn near unable to breathe, as he’s clearly…

Is Dr. Gojo inhaling your hair!?

“New shampoo?” He asks, you turn to glare up at him, putting your faces far, far too close.

“How would you know my…”

“You always wear that one that smells like strawberries, this one is more floral. Hmm I don’t know if I like it as much, but it’s still yummy.”

“I… you…”

“See you later, intern.” He says softly, then finally steps away, leaving you reeling as you hastily step out without a word, leaning your back against his door, shutting your eyes for a moment in the quiet hall his office is in. You shake yourself out of it quickly, he’s just being…

Dr. Hojo.

Notorious womanizer, but the best damn surgeon there was, a whole idiot and yet an entire genius. And not your type, not at all, even if he’s gorgeous, you did not like man whores, or men that aren’t serious, especially not your boss, anyway. Fucking your boss in this industry would essentially make everyone question every accomplishment as favoriteism.

You sure weren’t going to sacrifice all your hard work for some dick.

You bounce away, heading to the little cafe where your friends are waiting, sitting next to Yuta who hands you a coffee with a little smile. “Thank you, ugh.”

“You’re welcome, girlie.”

“So, party?”

“Maki!” You three say, and she sighs, shooting her espresso down.

“Next weekend! Come on you guys, what do you say?”

“Oh fine.” You concede. Maki, Yuta and Toge all live with you, in your town home, since you could absolutely not afford it yourself, with the shitty pay of your internship and the college bills. It was left to you, but you still had property taxes and other bills, so they helped a ton. “No one better fuck my house up, I swear.”

“Hell yeah, here’s to a party bitches.” She holds up her little styrofoam cup, and you all cheers each other then, laughing.

“Party, hmm?” Comes Dr. Gojo’s voice, he’s standing there with Dr. Geto and Dr. Nanami. You all get nervous then, but he grins. “I’m coming. What about you guys?”

“No way.” Nanami grumbles, he’s very serious, his glasses slung over his sandy blond hair, his face exhausted.

“I’ll come.” Dr. Geto chimes in, chuckling and sipping his coffee, he’s as tall as Dr. Gojo and well swoon worthy. He would be more your type you think, with that serious yet fun nature, whereas Dr. Gojo…

“C’mon Nanami. You gotta, you gotta, you-”

“Jesus you’re a child.” You say, and Gojo gasps at you, Geto and even Nanami laugh, only earning Gojo’s scowl.

“You brat, I’m a good eight years older than you!”

“You look like a twenty year old frat boy.”

"And you look like an angry little brat!” He shot back, only causing more laughter to erupt from the group.

“Okay, okay.” Dr. Geto holds up his hands now. “Let’s be nice, kids.”

“Kids! Suguru I’m older than you.” Gojo says with a glare.

“Like six months. Anyway, we’ll be there at this party, text us the details? We’d love to unwind.” Dr. Geto says, and Maki jumps up now, as you and Gojo are glaring at each other across your table. “Got it, thank you Maki.”

“Of course, we’ll invite both of your interns too. It’ll be much needed after hell month.” You just sit there, as they all talk, and Gojo is all pouty, like a baby. You peek at your phone now, seeing a text from your shitty ex, your face falls.

“Everything okay?” Maki asks softly, and you sigh, nodding.

“Just the ex.” You whisper back.

“Ex huh?” Satoru has somehow gotten behind you, leaning over, you smack at his hand then, glaring. “What, I wanna know!”

“You’re too fucking much sometimes. Ugh.” You stand up then, slinking past him. “I’m headed to get changed and then I’m leaving. See you all at home?” They all nod, eyeing you and Satoru curiously, you wave at the Doctors then head out.

Ugh, along with Satoru just being… weird and annoying, and your ex? He was a toxic, needy mess. He’d left you because you didn’t have enough time for him, and maybe you really didn’t, how could you have a relationship until your internship was finished? The first week none of you even left the hospital, sleeping in bunk beds and showering there.

But he constantly needed you, made you feel guilty, would fuck with your alarms and everything. Thank God he was long gone, even if he was annoying you currently, you delete his messages, heading to the locker room and hearing steps. You look back curiously to see Satoru holding the door open for you.

“What are you doing?”

“I am sorry, that was rude of me.”

“Yeah, well, what’s new.” You both walk into the locker room now, Satoru’s shrugging off his white lab coat, your cheeks heat up while you slip off your scrub top, it was normal to change in front of everyone, you all had co op locker rooms and showers even, all of you took years of anatomy, the human body was nothing really but parts.

But as you feel his eyes on you, when you’re down to just a black lace bra and a pair of boy shorts, you tense a bit, looking at him, shirtless, his lips parted as he looks at you. “I am sorry I know I annoy you, Miss perfect.”

“I’m no Miss perfect. I guess I have a lot to prove.” You say softly, trying not to drink in his rippling muscles, perfect well defined torso, cuts low where he’s now sliding up a pair of dark blue jeans.

His blue eyes fixate on you as he does, as you’re sliding on a pair of jeans yourself, buttoning them with trembling hands. “I had a lot to prove once too. I do understand.”

“You’re being serious?” You tease, earning a little smile, as he slides a black long sleeve shirt over his head. You get flustered as you realize your nipples are pressed against the cups of your bra, sliding your shirt and then a jacket on yourself, sitting at the bench to slide on your black boots.

“I can be serious sometimes, I just think there’s enough death, sadness, and depression in this career. Why not just try to have some fun? Otherwise, it’ll just consume you.” He says softly, in that husky voice of his, so sexy it alone could wreck someone. But his words…

“That makes sense.” You say softly now, standing as he does, grabbing your purse and locking up your locker, spinning the combination, at the same time he grabs his keys and wallet. “So you try to… brighten up things.”

“Yeah, someone has to.” He walks to you then, tapping your nose once more. “You’re too serious, you’ll have to lighten up, or this career will wreck you.”

You nod then, carefully, realizing perhaps this slutty, silly doctor had a lot more to him, than just being the perfect surgeon. “I’ll take that advice. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, also…” He leans forward as you all are stepping out of the locker room, headed toward the automatic glass doors, and you look at him curiously. “Nice panties.”

“Oh fuck you, Dr. Hojo!” You glare now, shoving at him, as he heads to his mercedes benz, and you’re in your ancient SUV that sounds like a beast.

“Night-night, intern.” He shoots you two fingers, sliding into his fancy car with blacked out windows. You roll your eyes, putting your car in gear.

What a day.

Part Two

[backwzzds]

Toji getting out jail and showing us some appreciation 🙈🙈

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ daddy’s home, toji fushiguro (nsfw)

omg bc prison bf!toji would be something interesting.

the story would be that before prison, toji was the ORIGINAL scammer. all these mfs his sons forreal. of course with being a hired professional hitman, it came with its financial perks, all of which he’d used to spoil his pretty little princess.

you lived comfortably well. you’d known toji since he was just a bum scrounging for any type of work, so you actually got to see the come up frfr. though you’ve always loved him from the start (even when he was broke), he was nearly 10 years older than you. just in your early twenties, you always told him—you did not deserve any type of struggle love. and a struggle life toji lived indeed. you assured him that if he was really about you the way he always swore he was—he’d do whatever he could to support for you.

and support for you he did!

it wasn’t anything about being a gold digger—you just had standards. toji chased after you for years and you loved it—but you knew you deserved better when he couldn’t even take care of himself. by the graces of whoever allowed him to stumble upon a secret job that could land him 1 mil cash—500 upfront as a deposit and the rest later—toji was yours the moment he proved to you he could take care of you indefinitely.

ass ironic as this sounds, he was actually arrested on false charges. the nature of the charges were true on everything—but the actual person they were accusing him of executing and murdering, he simply did not do. the courts didn’t care though, they just needed someone to hang for it and make an example out of them. that led to toji being sentenced to life in prison.

but thanks to his crooked ass lawyer, the piece of shit was out in 6 years.

you nervously tapped your acrylic nails on the pink wrap of your car as you leaned against the passenger side of the door. it seemed as if today was release day for a few other prisoners, seeing as a group of men walked out with plastic bags, all while staring you down. your arms remained crossed over your fat tits barely being able to breathe in the baby tee you wore to accompany your long flowy skirt as you awaited for your own man to re-enter the world again.

the minute another person leaves the building, your eyes meet with the familiar man’s. it was almost as if your energy was instantly drawn to his, because you immediately recognized him off the bat. toji is blown away by your beauty. you were always fine, but damn, watching you outside of a bulletproof plexi glass was top tier when he finally got to see your fuller ass and pudgy stomach in person again.

the second he’s in your vicinity again, instead of doing the normal thing like hugging him—you slapped the shit out of him.

“ow’!” toji groans. “fuck was that for?!” the old man rubs the spot you hit him in, giving you a fearful look. toji didn’t fear anyone or anything, but you had to be at the top of that list, especially when you were upset.

you give him a knowing look with your hands on your hips. toji rolls his eyes and grips your waist, “tch, i told ya i didn’t do that shit!” he groaned, referencing the one crime he was actually innocent for. “but with all the trouble that dead bastard put me through, wish it was me.”

you mirror his previous actions and do a double take in his physique. you weren’t the only one who got finer. toji’s waist got smaller—probably from starving himself like you told the fucker not to—but his build was more muscular, yet lean. he had an unimaginable number of new tattoos hidden under his normal clothes, and you couldn’t even think about what more laid hidden beneath his thick jeans.

toji fully notices your gawking eyes and gives you a cocky smirk with the scar on his lip fully rising. “miss me mama?” a smile can’t help but form on your own lips as you embrace him in a tight hug. not feeling the love enough, toji wraps his arms underneath you, fully lifting you from the ground. with your legs now around his waist, you were finally face to face with the man of your life.

toji leans into you and pecks your lip ever so lightly. with the sun in his view, he still got the best look of just how perfect you really were. “i missed ya,” he says so low, you barely catch it. “missed ya so much. went crazy dozens of times from you not being with me.”

it was strange for toji to be so vulnerable. but his time under made him realize just how ungrateful he really was for all the great things in his life. how ungrateful he really was for you. he vowed that when he did get out—if ever—he wouldn’t waste a minute without reminding you how he felt about his little girl.

with a proud smile on your face, you run your manicured thumb over the callous of his aging skin. you kiss the small scars there and then his lips. snuggling your head in his neck, you whisper, “let’s go home daddy.”

and that was how you ended up here, face down and ass up into your own mattress.

“you gonna tell daddy you missed him yet?” toji grunted while thrusting in and out of you. the ripples of your fat ass had him in a trance. “been almost seven years since i been in this pretty pussy’a yours. think i deserve at least that, baby.”

you whine into your pillow, drool pooling from the sides of your mouth. you wanted to play stubborn; let toji know that if he ever went to jail for something so stupid again, he wasn’t gonna see you or your pussy he loved so much.

your silence results in a hard slap to your ass. “ahh!” you yelp out, leaning forward into your white duvet. with another harsh smack and then the smooth rubbing of his large hand, toji smirked at the reddening imprint forming on the terrain of your pretty brown ass. “this ain’t about you!” you can’t help but seethe out to his previous statement. your voice is muffled by the fluff of your pillow, “i suffered these last seven years. not you.”

toji slows in his movements. you were so right. he knew how much you longed for him. your big hunky man that walked the streets with you 24/7 was no longer by your side to protect you like he usually did. he left you open. he left you vulnerable. though he’s had his people, geto and gojo watching over you, it wasn’t enough, you constantly slept in fear. you walked in fear. you lived in fear.

you didn’t know why, but suddenly all the emotion you felt in the past seven years came flooding to you. tears flowed from your eyes and you were crying. but from the pulsing grip your pussy had around his dick, toji knew you wanted more.

“look at me,” toji’s voice is muffled. when you made no effort to move, too ashamed to rven be crying at a time like this, toji pulls out of you and softly grabs you by the hips, turning you over so that your back was no against the mattress and you were facing him.

swiftly, the older man slides back into you, but this time moves inside you with more care. toji’s body is so close to yours, your hard nipples are brushing against his own with every thrust he makes.

“‘m sorry,” toji whispers with every rut into you. “daddy’s so sorry baby. didn’t mean to abandon you the way i did.” you could hear the genuineness in his tone as he stops fucking you, but begins to make love to you. “can’t imagine how scared you must’a been these past few years. haven’t been taking care of you the way i promised all those years ago.”

more tears flow from your eyes as toji brings you to your building orgasm slowly. “know you can’t forgive me for being so stupid ‘n careless now. ‘s gonna take some time. i know that. but jus’ lemme in again mama. let daddy back into your heart ‘n i promise i’ll take acre of you again.”

“daddy,” you sob. “‘m close,” is the only words that could leave your mouth. “don’t leave me, please. ‘m so close.” you were begging to cum, but deep down toji knew you were also begging him to stay.

toji brings his hand down to your pretty pussy and rubs at your clit as his lips engulf in yours. with just a few touches, you were creaming over his fingers and crying into his mouth.

“never gonna leave you again, mama. daddy’s home now.”

[blondieeu]

self righteous. rafe c.

rafe, who’s got an idea when he catches kelce's pretty little pouge sister sneaking back into the house in the middle of the night after a halloween party.

he sits with his arms crossed, leaning against your marble island counter as he waits for you to finish struggling through the window. the kitchen being only lit by the stove light made his figure seem a little more intimidating.

when you think the coast is clear and dust the spider webs off your tight, skimpy shirt, you start into the kitchen and are met with one of the biggest shit eating smirks you think you’ve ever seen.

“so, where’d you end up runnin’ off too?”

your heart drops into your chest as you look back at your elder brothers best friend, as well as your friend groups worst nightmare. dressed up in a plain white t-shirt, and some plaid pajama pants. why the hell was he up this late anyway?— and who was he to ask you that question!?

“or—who’d you end up runnin’ off with? oh no, let me guess, the good for fucking nothing pouges.”

rafe, was only supposed to be staying over your house for the weekend. he and your brother, just crashing here for the night since their car broke down on the way to somewhere else, that’s all! so why is he all up in ur grill?

“don’t be an asshole rafe”

"oh well I don't know," he started off, condescendingly "pretty sure your little friends acted like assholes to me when they sunk my boat." he leaned his head down like he was about to take a peak under it. "wonder what your brother would do if he knew you were back with them"

with a sigh you furrowed your eyebrows to give him the best puppy dog face you’ve ever put on for absolutely anybody. he still stood there though, uncrossing his arms and even going to make a movement to tell you to come a little closer—you oblige him.

he put his hand on his trap and rolled his neck around. rafe already looked like he was about to start spouting some bullshit, like he always does. at around this time he also started to really look at what you were wearing too, you were dressed up like a damn hoochie.

“please please rafe, be cool? just this once” you pleaded with him trying to think of any way he could just not be an asshole and be cool for once. the male chuckled and put his hands on the counter, he’s so antsy, why?

"alright-i'll make you a deal, alright?" rafe wiped his nose with his thumb and crossed his well built arms once again. he paced around the kitchen like he was trying to hype himself up to ask the question. "I won't say anything if you let me fuck you."

you laughed nervously, looking around for a couple of seconds with a awkward smile on your face before coming to terms with the fact that he's being serious. you could almost feel your heart dropped as you looked for any playfulness in his face.

“are you fucking serious?! no??-what the fuck”

"hey-hey I should be sayin' that, alright?" rafes brows pushed down as he angrily pushed his finger into his chest. "you're the one out fuckin' around at night, not me ok?! and don't act like you don't like me, I read it in sarah's diary."

you watched as rafe tried to come up with some insane explanation for why he's in the right, as per usual. "are you forreal?" he shrugged. "gonna do this or not?" you quietly weighed your options.

•••

a mean chuckle erupted from the man behind you, "you cryin' ?" he asked teasingly, just from his tone you could hear the shit eating grin on his face, he was never gonna stop holding this over your head.

sobs poured from your mouth like a facet with every thrust as the he fucked you from behind, both of your hands tightly pinned behind you from rafe getting quickly irritated with you trying to stop his movements.

the couch. thats how far he made it on the very short walk to the bedroom before getting impatient and just ripping your clothes off you right then and there; your white skirt laying on the foyer floor as proof.

he had you pushed right into the piece of nice furniture- your white leather family couch. your hands rested on the crest rail of the couch and your knees were widely spread out on top of it, from when he pushed his knee in between yours and forced them open.

"cryin' cus you know you got no business letting me fuck you" he mocked you as he pressed all his body weight into your lower back. rafe whispered into your ear while he gifted you full strokes of his cock. "what if I tell your friends you let me fuck you, what if I tell my sister hm? what's she gonna think?"

"i-" just as a breather loud yelp escaped your throat your brothers best friend wrapped a hand around your mouth, swiftly muffling all your sounds. "be-quiet"

blondieeu xx

[carolmunson]

let's go, don't wait: part II (e.m. x f!reader)

inspired by this prompt by @edsforehead - it's not exactly the same but i did my best! series masterlist summary: modern!eddie's been single since 2020 and aside from getting his dick wet after weekend shows at the hideout, he hasn't been going out of his way for love until his friends make him. cw: 18+ for adult themes. alcohol use, swearing, phone sex, smut, oral (f receiving). some sad childhood talk, all around this is a fluff piece so nothing too bad. (19K words.)

With how easy the first date had been to make, Eddie wasn’t expecting it to be so hard to pin you down for the next one. Neither of your schedules had lined up for the rest of the week, and up until next Friday neither of you had much free time. You either had to stay at work late or he had to stay late for the three extracurriculars he was running (jazz club, D&D club, and co-runner of the school’s GSA) – which he’d only be annoyed about running if he didn’t absolutely love the kids. The extra overtime didn’t hurt either, perks of working at a rich kid private arts school.

At first he was nervous you were busy going on dates with other guys until he called you one night and he could hear your boss in the background waxing poetic about the shift to lab grown sapphires. Then he’d feel bad for feeling so accusatory to start – you’d never said anything to each other about being exclusive. Hell, you’d only been on one date. But you talked every day, and fuck did that feel good for Eddie. 

g’morning pretty  ew you’re obsessed with me. good morning, boy

He’s happy he knows you’re joking because he’s certain no other guy would get it. He knows you read his text and screamed into your pillow, cheeks hot and chest thrumming. That’s why you always have to respond so mean so that he doesn’t know how much you like him back. This backfires, because he can tell that the meaner you are, the more you like his attention.

what’s your weekend look like? i know you leave for AZ on sunday but i’d really like to see you before you go. 

You were headed to a gem trade show in Tucson on Sunday for a few days. You went every year you’d been working for your boss, you told him all about it on the phone. You’re cute when you’re excited but he didn’t want to embarrass you by saying so – just let you rattle on about all the things you get to see. You promised to send him pictures of some of the cool fossils you might come across, all of the big crystal furniture.  “You were a weird dinosaurs kind of kid, right? You’d be into pictures of fossils?" “Why are you so mean? Would you go up to nine year old me and call him a weird kid that’s into dinosaurs?” “No, he’d be so sad.” “So next time you wanna say some mean shit, imagine you’re saying it to nine year old me.” “I bet you were a cute kid,” you thought out loud, “You’re a really cute adult.” 

“You think I’m cute?” “The cutest.” His face burned at every compliment you offered him, flushing dark pink at every sweet word you said. He was a mess. Embarrassment would flood him when he’d check his phone during class, the kids would never let him hear the end of it.  “Did you meet her on Tinder, Mr. E?”  “This is not appropriate class discussion guys,” his eyes would shut tight in frustration when they’d catch him texting you back and he’d reluctantly tuck his phone into his back pocket. They were way bolder than he was at their age. “No because like, you’re so happy though. Look how you’re smiling when you text her.” “Mr. Munson’s got that W rizz.”  “Is she hot?” “Be fucking forreal. He’s blushing so hard right now.” “Smash or pass, Munson?” “Guys, can you relax? You literally have a test right now." Bzz. Bzz.

i gotta run errands on saturday and go then leave sunday night :( working late friday cause we need to take gem inventory essentially He sighed, he didn’t want to wait until next Friday to see you again. 

i could run errands with you if you’ll have me. i’ll drive! you sure? it’s not super exciting stuff. you make it exciting. :) i’ll take you out to lunch. sound good? okay :) okay :)  see you saturday, cutie omg shut up 🙄 but yeah. see you saturday. :) 

He was nervous you’d notice he got his interior detailed the night before, but he was too embarrassed to let you get into the car in its original glory. He honked the horn in three short bursts, being mindful of the neighbors even though it was around 9:30 in the morning.  You inch out of the door of your place, the first floor of a quaint three family home, in your Princess Diana best. You dressed for errands and his heart swells, leggings and a big sweatshirt, little white sneakers and socks. You look cute like this, hurrying outside with your paper Old Navy bag blowing in the wind, relaxed and laid back. But you aren’t for long, you take a step outside only to feel the chill in the ‘second winter’ air of March and raise a finger to him before running back inside — reappearing with a lightweight parka haphazardly thrown on. You patter to the car and he tries to ignore his heart rate speeding up while he leans over to open it for you. “Hey you,” he smiles, “Good morning.”  “Morning,” you say with a coy smile. His chest leans forward slightly to kiss you as you settle in but he stops short. Are you there yet? You only kissed that night last week. What if you weren’t ready to kiss again? He swallows, settling back into his seat but recognizing how his car fills with your scent. You smell so fucking good he could eat you.  “So what’s the agenda, sugar?” he asks.   “Okay, agenda: Target, Old Navy for a return,” you say, raising your bag, “I have to run into Sephora to pick up some sunscreen for my boss, and um…I think that’s it? They’re all in the same shopping center over by um – by the movie theater.”  “Oh yeah,” he nods, “I know the one.”  He reaches for the sound system, turning the volume up a little, Lamb of God’s Vanishing crunching through his speakers. He watches for your reaction and can tell you don’t know it, but you don’t seem appalled or repulsed.  “Do you have a tunes preference?” he asks, voice velvety smooth, eyes catching on your parted lips, “It’s a long drive.”  “Uh…” your knee bounces faster, “I mean it’s your car. We should listen to what you wanna listen to.”  “Honey, I’m like your Uber driver today,” he offers, head tilting while he looks over at you. Eddie’s gaze lingers on your face with soft eyes, lashes a shadow over his irises, “How’m I gonna get a five star review if you don’t like the music?” 

“I do!” you assure aggressively, “I do like it.”

“Here, I have a plan,” he nods, holding his hand out, “Gimme your phone.” 

You toss him a look which triggers an eye roll from him, “Just trust me, give me your phone.” 

“Here’s the bargain, I connect your tunes to my car,” he mumbles while he disconnects his phone from the car’s Bluetooth and connects yours instead, “But I get to pick the songs. Deal?” 

A giggle bubbles out of you, shoulders shaking loosely, “That’s ridiculous.” 

“But is it a deal?” he asks again. He takes a breath that inflates his chest, while you consider it. It’s not fair that you look so cute this morning, it’s not fair that he doesn’t have the confidence to just reach over and lay one on you like they do in the movies. He wasn’t lying when he said you were so kissable. 

“It’s a deal,” you nod. He watches your knee slow down to stopping. Eddie swallows, eyes traveling from your knees to your full thighs sitting fat in his passenger's seat with a quick scan that you don’t notice. 

“Okay, so let’s see…” he mutters, going into your music and scrolling through your artists, landing pretty early on with an enthusiastic nod that makes his waves bounce around his face. 

“Blood Brothers?” he asks, “Wow, you really did hate your dad, huh? I haven’t heard this album in years.”

“I started liking them for a boy back in high school,” you shrugged while he thumbed through the tracks, “Then started liking them forreal.” “That’s okay,” he smiles over at you, “You’d be surprised to see my Spotify wrapped every year. Never as mean and scary as you’d expect.” 

“No?” your brows raise, “Not a bunch of ‘Stabby Metal Scream Crunch Stab’ in your top ten?” 

He scoffs, settling on ‘Set Fire to the Face on Fire’, the opening Fire! Fire! Fire! leaking through the speakers, “I married the head cheerleader at my high school – I’d like to think my music taste is pretty eclectic. Metal’s just, y’know, the main course. Plenty of side dishes on my roster.” 

“You a big fan of having something on the side?” you quirk a brow at him through the rear view mirror while he puts the car in drive. He scoffs again, lips twitching up into a smirk. You’re quick and it makes his blood rush, his fingers drum nervously on the wheel while he keeps the car in place.

“Why’re you so mean, huh?” he teases, “Do I look like the kind of guy that’s had a lot of side pieces?” 

“Oh,” you start, giving him a once over, “Not even close.” 

“You’re here with me, aren’t you?” he asks, putting the car in park again. He turns down the volume, turning his body completely towards you. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” you drone, turning yourself toward him in return,  “I guess I am.” Eddie clears his throat, tongue flicking over his full lips to wet them. 

“So uh…before we hit the road,” his voice cracks, heart rattling in its cage, trapped in his chest, “D’you-think-I-could-steal-a-kiss-good-morning?” It pours out of his mouth while his body goes numb – like the bandaid was ripped off but someone else did it for him. His hopeful voice when he presents the offer sounds foreign to him, but he knows what he’s asking you. Blood rushes in his ears, the steady thump of his heart pounding through his veins. Your bottom lip tucks into your teeth, eyes shutting briefly with anticipation, a tiny chuckle huffs through your nose. Your knee starts to bounce again. 

“Yeah, but it’s not stealing if I’m letting you have one,” you reply, your own voice becoming delicate and girlish, teenage nerves coasting down your throat through the back of your neck. He leans close to you, engulfed again in the scent of your perfume, head leaning to the side slightly while your movements mirror his. Eddie brings a hand up to hold your face, keeping you steady while he goes in for the kill, one he’d been hoping to make since he saw you last. Heart stuck in his throat, he almost feels a sob shoot through his chest when his lips touch yours. It’s as soft and warm as he remembers. As soft and warm as the moment he’s been replaying in his head since last Monday. 

You both break apart but he doesn’t move away from your face, hand dropping from your cheek to your bouncing knee where he gives it a gentle squeeze, “Are you nervous?” 

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I think maybe, yeah. But I’m excited, too. Y’know, to spend the day with you.” 

It’s his turn to feel giddy and embarrassed, a flush building steadily on the apples of his cheeks, “If it makes you feel any better, I’m nervous, too. But it’s  just gonna be a nice, chill day, okay?” 

“Okay,” you nod, both of you wearing matching smiles. 

“I do have a rule, though,” his brows furrow, implying he’s serious. You look very seriously back at him. 

“I gotta kiss you every time you’re startin’a look a little too good,” he gives you a shrug of one shoulder before settling back into the driver’s seat while he pulls onto the road, “Cause I don’t know if you saw, but the way you look this morning is fucking illegal.” 

You let out a soft tsss from between your teeth, shaking your head while you settle back into your seat, “You’re so stupid.” 

“I’m just a man, sugar,” he tilts his head, readjusting behind the wheel before putting the car back in drive. He restarts the song before pulling onto the road, feeling like maybe this errands date would go much, much better than he’d planned. He drums on the steering wheel again, head softly bouncing along with the beat of the song while the lyrics scream through the car. You mouth along with them, staring out the window while you do. 

‘Those cold hooks, cemetery claws raking at the infant's jaws,Set fire to the horse on fire,Set fire to the dress on fire,Set fire to the stage on fire,Set fire to the stars on fire!’

“Damn, me and the band shoulder cover this,” he nods to himself, “We’d fuckin’ crush.” 

“Can you scream like that?” you ask, turning your head to face him, “I feel like I’d blow my vocal chords.” 

“Eh, sorta kinda,” he tilts his head from side to side, “I got plenty of practice. Do plenty of screaming with our own stuff, you sorta train your voice up to do it. I might not be able to scream as high but, I could harmonize with Jeff – lead guitar if you remember –” “I remember,” you smile, “And his wife Alycia.” 

“And is wife Alycia! Damn, look at you,” he smiles, “You should write my memoirs. But yeah, surprisingly Jeff can get pretty high up there – it’s super impressive.”

“Well when you cover it, I’ll come watch,” you nod, “You still haven’t really told me about your band.” 

“Corroded Coffin?” he asks, turning into a coffee shop drive-thru and pulling up behind a short line of cars, “Not much to tell. We play shows every couple weeks, in the summer every week, at a few bars around the city that are into that scene. We have fun – still play at our old stomping grounds in Hawkins, too. Same five drunks cheering us on for the last twelve years.” 

His eyes widen at the realization, “Twelve years, Jesus. I’m so fuckin’ old.”   

“Oh, thank god I only have two years until I’m fuckin’ old,” you laugh, “You don’t look old.” 

“You don’t look old either,” he smiles, giving you a once over that you immediately feel shy under, “What can I get you?” 

“Oh no, no,” you shake your head, reaching for your wallet in your Old Navy bag, “I’ll get it, seriously. You’re driving me.” 

“No, please, I’ll get it,” he says, pushing your hand down gently while you offer your card. 

“I wanna pay for it, you’re already going out of your way to do all this boring shit,” you offer again. He plucks your card from your fingers and flicks it into the backseat. He shrinks when your smile falls, you’re very obviously not taken by his actions. 

“Look,” he shrugs, voice lowering, “I didn’t wanna say anything cause I didn’t know how you’d react. But this location actually doesn’t accept money from women. I know, crazy right? So sexist. Its so gross of me to still go here when it’s totally against all my shit. But since they don’t accept any payments from women, I’m gonna have to pay or else we can’t get coffee.” 

You roll your eyes but can’t hold back your laugh, “Fuck, why do you have to be funny about it?” 

“You think I’m funny, huh?” he grins, pulling up to the microphone box. 

“Yeah, funny lookin’,” you tease. Eddie ‘tsks’ a few times with a shake of his head, looking back at you. 

“What can I get you?” he asks again. 

“Medium, iced, caramel. Almond milk if they have it, regular if not,” you respond, crossing your arms. He orders and can feel your eyes on him, he wants to turn back around and kiss that pout right off your lips. You’re not used to having someone take care of things and he can tell, you don’t like it either. Or at least you don’t know how to let yourself like it. Two givers stuck in a car running errands with each other – he wonders if you’ve ever known how to take. 

He gets the coffees, yours with your milk and flavor, his iced and black. You say thank you when you take it, there’s something about your face when you do, a softness he feels like he’s not supposed to see. 

“Hey, you know my rule,” he says, leaning in again, “You’re startin’ to look at little too good right now.” 

Your embarrassed smile says enough when you close the gap between the two of you, lips pressing together in a soft and gentle peck. 

“Thank you,” he expresses, big brown eyes looking into yours before pulling back onto the streets. He turns the sound system up again, the opening of Cam’ron’s Hey Ma flows through the speakers, he nods enthusiastically. 

“Another banger,” he exclaims. 

“You know this song?” you ask with surprise. 

“I grew up in a trailer park, baby. You hear a lot of different music out there,” he shrugs. Eddie feels his throat choke up when he realizes he called you baby. But at least if you hated it, you weren’t showing any sign that you did. 

“Got drops. Got coupes. Got trucks. Got jeeps. Alright, 'cause we gon' take a ride tonight So ma. Wassup? Let's slide. Alright. Alright, and we gon' get it on tonight.” He likes that you’re impressed that he knows the words, of course he does. He grew up hearing this song all of summer 2002, running through the hose with the little kids, while his old baby sitters sat out in lawn chairs to work on their color. Playboy Bunny stickers on their hip bones to show off their tan lines. 

You both sing the opening verse to the windshield, windows coming down an inch as you turn onto the parkway, voices booming over Juelz Sanatana’s. 

“Now I was down town clubbin’, ladies night, Seen shorty she was crazy right, And I approached baby like, ‘Ma, what’s your age and type?’ She looked at me and said, ‘Yous a baby right?’” He hits the last red light before the long stretch of the drive, turning to you to deliver a passionate line reading of the lyrics. He’s surprisingly smooth, even impressing himself at how actually cool he’s being about it. 

“I told her, I’m eighteen and live a crazy life, Plus I’ll tell you what the 80s like, and I know what the ladies like, Need a man that’s polite, listens and takes advice. I can be all three, plus I can lay the pipe. Come with me, come stay the night.” 

He winks when he finishes the line and by the way you stop singing, he knows he’s got you flustered. You are easy. He wants to see how much easier it is. 

“You better be careful,” you warn, tongue caught between your teeth. “Yeah? I better be careful?” he grins, car pushing forward when the light changes so he can turn onto the highway. 

“You’re trouble, Munson,” you shake your head, turning your attention back to the stretch of asphalt ahead of the both of you, “You’re big trouble.” 

“She looked at me laughin’ like, ‘Boy your game is tight.’ I’m laughin’ back like, ‘Sure, you’re right.’” 

“D’you need a cart?” Eddie asks, taking a side step over to the push carts neatly pushed into each other in between the double doors of Target. 

“Nah, if I get a cart I’m just gonna use it as an excuse to buy more stuff,” you pull a face, shoulders dropping dramatically, “And while I’d love to have an excuse to buy more stuff, I just need a basket.” “Basket it is,” he grins, hand wrapping over the hard plastic of one of the handles, tugging a basket loose from where it’s encased with its brothers. You reach your hand out, taking a step closer to the entrance, our step triggers the automatic doors and he files in after you. 

He looks at your outstretched hand behind you and then up at your face, “I can hold it, Ed.” 

He gives you a small shake of his head, “Nah, I’ll carry it. You lead the way. What’s on your list?”  “I mostly just need to get travel stuff…like toiletries,” you think out loud, “I guess this wasn’t really much of a big errand now that I think about it.” 

“That’s okay,” he says, and he means it. 

You don’t go straight to the beauty section. You’re taken by the $5 and under shelves at the front of the store, full of small decor knick knacks that he recognizes from his own apartment. This is where Tati’s always picking up those little gold tchotchkes for the coffee table and bookshelves every other month. The same way Chrissy would always have new, tiny holiday themed pieces every year to sneak onto their mantle.

“So, do you want me to keep you on task?” he asks, falling in step next to you, watching your fingers toy over a felted bunny figurine for Easter, “Or do you want me to aid in you not being on task?” 

You look over at him, eyes scanning over his frame. He catches the way your eyes linger on the way his t-shirt fits him under his leather jacket and denim vest. Dark olive green, a touch too tight in the chest, collar worn out just enough so that the ends of his collar bones peeked through. 

“We have all day, right?” you smirk. 

“All day,” he nods, “You a walking through the aisles type of girl?” 

“Is that a deal breaker?” you ask, attention captivated by a lavender ceramic pencil holder in the shape of a rainbow. 

“No, not at all,” he assures, taking you by surprise when he presses a kiss to your temple, “I’m a walking through the aisles type of guy.” 

“Was I looking a little too good while perusing the five dollar shelf?” you tease while you move onward into the store, stopping to thumb through a rack of jeans.

“Well that’s the thing,” he says with a tilt of his head, “You’re always lookin’ a little too good.” 

He hums when you roll your eyes, “Hmm. How’d I know that was coming?” 

“Why’re you so nice to me all the time, huh?” you fake argue, bored with looking at clothes and taking deliberate steps towards home goods to the bath section. Eddie hurries to keep up, basket clicking and clacking in his hand. 

“I guess I can be mean to you, but I feel like that would make me a shitty date,” he jokes back, “And an even worse Uber driver.” 

“So true, actually. Zero stars,” you nod, running your hand over a towel that matches the color of his shirt, “Y’know green’s a really good color for you? Makes your eyes pop.” 

“Oh…” he can feel himself turning red when you say that. So she’s been looking at my eyes? Is she always secretly sort of checking me out the way I’m always secretly sort of checking her out? Does she think I’m cute or something? Why am I trying to propose to her right now? Is it ‘cause we’re looking at towels? 

“Um, thank you. I’ll um, I’ll wear it more often,” he runs a hand over his face while you continue to look at towels, turning the corner to look at the fancier ones. You laugh at his jittery response, not so much at him, not teasing, but – this guy covered in tattoos, stomping in combat boots, definitely has a knife in his back pocket, chains dangling down the side of his pants, is blushing bright red just because you said he looks good in green. This guy? 

“You should,” you encourage, turning to see his reddened face, “What happened to not being nervous?” 

“That’s a rule for you,” he says, walking a few steps ahead of you. His eyes catch on a soap dispenser, it’s the same one he had in the master bathroom back with Chris, “I can be as nervous as I want.” 

“Ah, I see, rules for thee, not for me,” you nod slowly. 

“See! Now you’re getting it,” he says over his shoulder. He reaches his free hand back toward you, eyes meeting yours, tossing you a smile when you look at his hand and back at him, “Yeah, I want you to hold it.” 

When your fingers slide in to lace with his he realizes his hands are a little sweaty. They weren’t last time you saw him, with your hand cradled in between his on his knee at the bar. He was a couple drinks in then, not forced to face the action fully. Not aware enough to realize he was holding a pretty girl’s hand in public on a domestic date and all he can think about is railing you in the backseat of his Honda Civic and also making a mental note of all the color choices you like so when you eventually move in together he already knows what you — Jesus fucking Christ you have soft hands. You guide him through the rest of the bathroom section, stopping briefly to consider whether or not you need more hand towels for your apartment and then shaking it off. He let’s you take him around the corner to mattress covers, you talk about your Casper mattress and how you still aren’t sure if you really like it two years later. He hears himself respond in a fog but he’s caught up on how right it feels to be here with you, to be holding your hand, holding your Target basket for you, listening to you talk about whatever. 

You get to bedding and stop at the throws, Eddie’s fog lifts when you let go of his hand to take one of them off the shelf. A dark green knitted blanket replaces his hand, folded up neat and tidy in its wrap-around casing. 

“This is so perfect for my living room,” you murmur to yourself, “It’s so cute.” 

Eddie leans against the shelf while you let your senses absorb the knit: touch, sight, smell. You peer at the other colors, unhappy with the rest, balancing the blanket on your hip while you look back at the empty spot where it once sat. Your eyes roll again, shoulders slumping for real this time.

“Not seventy five dollars cute,” you grumble, putting the blanket back on the shelf. 

“Seventy five dollars?” he asks, aghast, brown eyes rounding in surprise, “What, did they shear the sheep here or something?” 

“That’s capitalism for ya,” you click your tongue, giving the blanket one last look with a little pout, “Oh well, I’m sure I can find a dupe or something at TJ Maxx.” 

“M��sorry, sweetheart,” he consoles, taking your hand back and giving it an apologetic squeeze. 

“Sweetheart…” you repeat back, “That’s cute.” 

“That’s cute? Okay,” he smiles down at the tile under his feet, teeth showing, “I’ll keep note of that.” 

You both continue your journey through bedding, crossing through the Hearth & Hand showcase where he listens to you gripe about how you swear it’s a scam. None of this shit should be this expensive. Like, I could get all this shit at H&M Home online for twenty dollars less. What, just cause they’re on TV? Frickin’ ridiculous. He still stands by thinking that you’re cute when you’re mad. He can’t let go of your hand. He doesn’t even care that you’re both so far from travel toiletries, that you likely forgot why you were even here. He just likes this, being in Target with you, holding your hand while you yell about something. 

“Oh, hold on, I gotta look at these,” you squeeze his hand before you let go again, walking ahead of him while Matchbox Twenty’s 3AM fades into Des’ree’s You Gotta Be. 

“Decorative wicker baskets?” he asks, stepping back to look at the wall of wicker baskets of all sizes in the back of the store. 

“I need two for under my dresser,” you say, reaching up to grab one and looking at the tag for the dimensions, “S’for my socks and stuff.” 

He tosses you a look and you look back at him, “Don’t ask.” 

You get lost in the task, two stepping with a little sway to your hips, small movements. You sing along to the song while you pull one basket down and put it back, and so on. You gotta be cool, you gotta be calm, you gotta stay together. You aren’t mocking him when you sing along but the lyrics feel like they are. You’re so into it, too. He guesses this is what you’re like when no one’s around to watch you. How unfortunate that you’re so kissable even when you think no one is around to see it. 

“Hey,” he says, putting the basket down, “What did I say about looking too good?” 

“What?” you turn around, eyes rounded, almost startled, “Am I taking too long?”

“No,” he says with a furrow of his brow, approaching you gently while he crosses into your personal space. His voice drops a little lower, lips lingering close to yours, “No baby, not at all. Just looking really cute over here.” 

You can’t help but feel girlish when he’s like this, giggling while heat floods your cheeks and chest. 

“C’mere,” he whispers, pressing you back with his body so you’re flush with the shelves against the wall. His nose brushes yours, fingers finding your chin to tilt you up toward him where his mouth can taste you and you can taste him. He starts slow, just a test, shrouded in the lower light of the back decorative basket aisle, lips parting slightly to see if you’ll match it. He puffs a small breath against the ridge of your upper lip and it’s enough to send you into a frenzy. His body presses close up against you, kiss gaining fervor, hands coming up to cup around your cheek and neck to guide you with him

“Wait, wait,” you gasp, breaking away, “We’re gonna get in trouble.” 

“You think I’m scared of getting in trouble?” he clicks his tongue before grinning at you. Looks like you don’t do trouble. His lips ghost over yours, skating softly over your cheek to get to your ear, “I’ve been gettin’ kicked out of Targets since 2007, sweetheart.” 

His teeth graze your ear lobe, your hands reaching to clutch the soft leather of his jacket, a small sigh puffs out of you. He’s not sure if it’s pushing it, but the aisle is empty, and whatever he’s doing, he’s pretty sure you like it – his lips drop from your earlobe to the edge of your jaw, settling on a slow, wet open mouth kiss on your neck before meeting your mouth again. 

“Ed,” you mumble quietly, “I can’t be turned on at Target.” 

“Yes you can,” he giggles, stealing another gentle kiss from you. 

“Uh…hey folks,” a timid voice calls from the end of the aisle. You both break away, embarrassment clearly taking you over while you cover your face in your hands. A younger guy in a red t-shirt and khaki slacks waves awkwardly when he has both of your attention. 

“Sorry to uh, to interrupt but, um – y’know, this is a family friendly store and we just – yeah, I’m sorry. You’re not in trouble or anything,” he offers, stumbling over his words. 

“Thanks man,” Eddie says genuinely, giving him a wave back, “Sorry about that, just uh, caught up in the moment I guess. Baskets really do it for her, y’know?” 

The guy nods, walking away when a small thwap of the back of your hand hits his chest. 

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you laugh, changing your voice to mock him, “Baskets really do it for her. Fuck all the way off.” 

Eddie laughs with you, picking up the Target basket and placing it in your hand, “Look, I gotta pee so bad. Do you think you can man the aisles yourself while I go and take care of that?” 

You nod, “Just text me when you’re done and I’ll tell you where I am, okay?” 

“Cool,” he nods back, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek, “See you in a bit.” 

hey, where are you at? easter stuff, i got distracted  very godly of you

He bustles through the aisles, realizing now that you’re on the totally opposite side of the store than you were before. He spots you where all the candy is, your basket full of your toiletries.  “Easter candy?” he asks. 

“It’s the best holiday candy, easily,” you confess, “I know people will probably say Halloween since that’s the candy holiday, but dude, there’s something about Cadbury eggs.” 

“Yeah?” he reaches out and takes the basket out of your hand gently, you don’t protest when he does, “Isn’t it supposed to be from the UK? Don’t they have better chocolate by proxy?” 

“I think so,” you agree while Eddie strolls a little further down the aisle, “Have you ever had them?” 

“I’m sure I have,” he says, fingers tracing over a chocolate bunny in a box, “I guess I’m more of a Halloween guy.” 

“Boring,” you sing, holding two small bags of Cadbury eggs in your hands. Eddie holds the basket in front of him while you gear up to toss one in. 

“Kobe!” you shout, the candy leaving your fingers in a lay up toss, floating through the air only to fall at Eddie’s feet on the tile. 

“Too soon,” Eddie shakes his head solemnly, reaching down to grab the chocolate and put it in the red basket in his arm, “How’re you gonna call out a legend’s name and then miss?” 

“I feel like you moved it so that I’d miss,” you accuse playfully. 

“I kept it exactly where it was, I think you’re just not very good at basketball,” he says, making his way towards you. You put the other bag in with the rest of your stuff and look up at him through half lidded eyes. He matches your gaze while he looks at you. 

“You just don’t wanna see me be great,” you tease. 

“Oh, stop,” he tutts, “You’re very great.” 

Neither of you can help but kiss again. It feels natural to do it at this point. 

“You get everything you need to get?” he asks against your lips. You nod, a little ‘mhm’ squeaks out of your throat, “Good, cause they can’t yell at us for making out in the parking lot. So we should head out of here soon.” 

The remainder of the errands and lunch go by like a blur to him. Saturday meant busy restaurants so instead you opted for fast food in the parking lot, starting the drive home sharing Wendy’s waffle fries over the center console. 

Before you pull out of the lot, he flicks your music on again, opting to just leave it on shuffle because he feels like he learns you better that way. What’s going to come up next that’ll surprise him? What’s he gonna find out about you? 

‘Baby, I know you’re hurting, Right now you feel like you could never love again. Now all I ask, is for a chance, to prove, That I love you.’ 

Eddie barks out a laugh, takes a sip of his Sprite, and then laughs again, “Oh shit. I haven’t heard this song in years!”

“You know this song, too?” you ask, surprised again at his music repertoire. 

“You really don’t think I’m cultured, do you?” he jokes, “I have a deep affinity for the Backstreet Boys, though I will admit I was an NSYNC boy myself growing up.”

“Of course,” you murmur with an eye roll, “What’s your favorite NSYNC song?” 

“Ooh, let me see,” he thinks while he turns onto the highway, “Definitely Drive Myself Crazy. I’d always try to hit JC’s runs.”

“You knew their names too?” 

“I told you already, I grew up in a trailer park. I had the same babysitter from two to eleven,” he explains, “Mrs. Grandy watched me until her daughter Summer turned thirteen and then I’d go and pal around with her and her friends. I was like her little brother, I practically lived there.” 

“Were you always there?” you ask, “At your babysitter’s house?” 

“Yeah. My uh, my mom died when I was seven but she was always working and tryna stay out of the house when my dad came home so I was always at the sitters. He’s y’know – he’s in jail but he was in and out of it when I was a kid, too. Got arrested for beating on her a couple months before she died and my uncle moved up from North Carolina to take care of me. But he worked nights so – if I wasn’t at school I had to have someone watch me while he slept and then someone had to be at the trailer while I slept. It was way easier when I was in school – but anyway – wow – off topic there – yes, I spent a lot of time with my babysitter and her mom,” he finishes.  

“I’m sorry,” you offer, reaching over to give his knee a reassuring squeeze. 

“No, don’t be. It’s okay. I’m okay – I turned out pretty cool, I think,” he shrugs.

“You’re really cool,” you smile, Eddie smiles back. 

“What’s your favorite Backstreet Boys song?” he asks. 

“Hey Mr. DJ, easy,” you tell him, “It’s the most fucknasty song they’ve ever made and it still holds up. Like, I want it played at my wedding. I’m trying to make a child to that song.” 

Eddie loses it at fucknasty, head falling back on the headrest while his chest bounces, “The most fucknasty song? We’ll have to play that next.” 

“You won’t be disappointed,” you say, “AJ sings it and he was my favorite.” 

“Oh, baby, that does not surprise me at all,” he grins. Calling you baby sounds comfortable now, even after just talking for a week. He’s not sure how fast or slow these things are supposed to go, but your little smile every time he says it makes him wanna say it more. 

“I saw them in concert, when I was like, nine or ten or something,” Eddie says, “For their Millenium Tour – was when I Want It That Way was huge.” 

“You got tickets?” you ask, a teasing grin splitting your face. 

“Summer was a huge Backstreet Boys and NYSNC fan, like, posters all over her room. Had every magazine they were in that she could find, everything. So all we would do when she would watch me was listen to them and talk about them, so I liked them because she liked them and I thought she was cool,” he starts. 

“So anyway, she finds out on the radio that they’re giving away tickets to a show in Columbus – cause like, no one fucking comes to Indiana to play shows – and she calls in and wins! She literally went into shock. But we ended up going and she brought me instead of her friend because she was like ‘Mom, he’s family’. Which as an adult, makes me fucking melt y’know? But as a kid I was like ‘Damn you’re gonna drag me to Ohio to see a boy band? I wanna see Tool.’”

“Not Tool!” you laugh.  

“But it was cool cause we got to stay in a hotel for a night and all that other shit. It felt really special, her mom got us t-shirts which I’m sure cost her a fortune but – damn. I had a lot of fun.” 

“It sounds like you did.”

“The most crazy thing though – which I’ve never told anyone so, I hope you feel special – was when I saw them perform, I thought like, ‘Wow, I wanna do this when I grow up.’ So in a way, if it wasn’t for the Backstreet Boys, I would’ve never realized I wanted to be a rockstar,” he confesses, “And I mean, obviously I was really into rock, and metal, and folk-punk stuff ‘cause of Wayne, but seeing those guys on stage? Everyone screaming? I was like ‘Damn, I wanna be up there! I wanna be shredding up there!’” 

“I love that,” you reply, a warm smile spread across your face while you watch him relive the memory in his head. 

He shrugs, “It was a cool dream to have but, I don’t know. That ship has long sailed.” 

“What do you mean? Long sailed? You can still be a rockstar,” you argue, a fry crunching soft between your teeth. 

He shakes his head, slight defeat caressing his tone, “No I can’t. I’m too old now.” 

“Too old? Shut up,” you assert through a mouthful of waffle fry, “Metallica’s still out there playing. Iron Maiden is literally on tour right now. And they’re all like – in their sixties for fuck’s sake.” 

“Okay?” he huffs back, the red from the hazard lights of the car in front of you flashes against his face, “And? They all got famous when they were like, twenty or younger. I’m fucking…thirty-two.” 

“Exactly! You’re only thirty-two,” you exclaim while he rolls to a stop at a red light. Your hand reaches out to squeeze his arm, “You have so much time. You can literally be a rockstar whenever.” 

Eddie’s chest gets tight when you say that – it had been a while since he heard that type of encouragement. He’d missed the feeling of someone cheering him on from the bar while he was on stage, Chrissy’s praise when they’d get home. Wayne calling to tell him he saw a review of their set in the paper. Lately the shows felt sad to him, he felt lonely, even though he was always the happiest when he could make it on that stage. 

“You can’t be saying shit like that to me,” he says knowingly, maneuvering his arm so that he can take your hand in his. 

“Why not?” you ask, your voice holding a hint of sullenness that breaks his heart. He kisses your knuckles before resting his and your hand on your thigh, the light changing to green. 

“‘Cause you’re gonna make me fall in love with you.” Your eyes cast down at his hand on your thigh, your smile tight, stretching painfully across your cheeks, “Oh, okay. I’ll be meaner if that’s not what you’re going for.” 

“It’s definitely what I’m going for,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand softly. 

The mood in the car shifts to comfortable silence, I’ll Never Break Your Heart fading out into the opening croons of Leon Bridges’ Coming Home. You lean your head on the window, looking at the cars passing you on the highway, the light flecks of rain hitting the glass as the car keeps its speed. Eddie lets go of your hand, palm stretching over the mass of your thigh, running soothingly up and down on your leggings. His thumb rubs soft and slow over the outside of your quad, he just wants to touch you. It’s a comforting touch, no implications other than – I like being here with you right now. 

‘The world leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, girl. You're the only one that I want, Wanna be around. Wanna be around, girl, Wanna be around, girl, Ooh, wanna be around, girl...’

“I like this,” Eddie says, his voice soft, “Who is this?” 

“Leon Bridges,” you answer, “The whole album is so good. It honestly sounds even better on vinyl.” 

“I was just about to say, I bet it sounds great on vinyl,” he enthuses, “I like the old timey vibe.” 

“It’s cozy, right?” you ask. 

“Very cozy,” he nods, tossing a look over to you. Your eyes are heavy lidded, breath steady in your chest,  “You gettin’ sleepy?” 

“Kinda,” you yawn, “You’re not boring me or anything, I promise.” 

“That’s okay,” he offers you a soft pat on the thigh, returning back to the slow back and forth that was putting you to sleep, “We’ll be home soon-ish, just take a nap.” 

You frown, “You sure? Am I being lame?” 

“Nah, you’re not being lame,” he assures. Your eyes flutter closed, the warm cascade of his hand continues while they do. 

After a long stretch of highway, Eddie turns the car into your part of town, a sadness washing over him that he has to drop you off and then go home to his apartment for the remainder of this rainy evening. For a flicker of a moment he wants to be selfish and ask if you wanna just kick it at his house, but he knows you have stuff to do before this trip. Envy seeps into his sadness that your boss gets to spend so much time with you, gets to watch you laugh, gets to watch you solve problems, gets to watch you do anything all day. Is it healthy to feel like this so quickly? I don’t know her like that, he wonders, Is it that sort of thing where like, if you know you know? Or am I being kind of insane right now? 

“What’d I miss?” you ask, rising from your mini-nap in the car. You frown when you see your surroundings, so much closer to home than you hoped. 

“A few showtunes and Mariah’s Vision of Love,” he says, your sleepy voice tugging on his heart and lips, “I’m partial to My All but that’s cause I’m a professional sad boy.” 

“My All is on there, but it’s probably good I was out for Vision of Love – you didn’t have to hear me screlting it in the small confines of this car,” you laugh.

“Do you sing?” he asks. You shake your head no. 

“I did musicals in high school, as you can see by the showtunes,” you explain, “But I wouldn’t call myself much of a singer.” 

“I’m sure I’ll find out if that’s true sooner or later,” he offers. It’s part way through Good Charlotte’s Girls & Boys, volume low so he didn’t disturb you sleeping. 

“This song makes me laugh,” you say, he feels your hand find his, still sitting firm on your lap. You play with his rings, twirling them around his fingers, he swallows hard. 

“Like, so many songs that came out around this time, even a couple years after – now they just sound like women’s empowerment.” 

“Tell me more,” he says, turning onto your street, the ache creeping back up again. 

“Like, ‘Girls don’t like boys, girls like cars and money.’ Is that supposed to be a dig? Of course I like cars and money – I’m a person. ‘Paper or plastic, don’t matter, she’ll have it.’ Like it’s a bad thing! Sounds like she’s thriving, he’s paying for everything and she didn’t even ask him to, she’s just sitting there looking hot!” you continue, “Sounds like a dream to be honest!”

“Yeah!” he nods, mulling it over in his head, “Fuckin’ – good for her!” 

“I’m happy for her!” you laugh, he laughs with you. It’s nice to laugh so much with you, he likes that you’re sort of goofy in your own right. He pulls up to your house, pulling in to park in front of the walk way. Both of your laughs quiet down, you both look at the house through your window and the air in the car changes. 

“I don’t wanna go,” you frown, shoulders slumping, “I wanna keep hanging out.” 

“I know,” he says gently, “I wanna keep hanging out, too – but you got stuff you need to get ready for tomorrow.”

“I know,” you scrunch your nose, “So stupid.” 

“So stupid,” he agrees, “How dumb that you have to go to a really cool expo where the weather’s nice.” “Well when you put it like that,” you say with a tilt of your head and a smile. 

“Let me get your stuff out of the trunk,” he offers, getting out of the car into the smattering of rain. He pops the trunk and grabs your bags, coming over to your side to open your door for you. 

“Here,” he says, offering you your toiletries, Old Navy exchange (and a few other purchases), and a Sephora bag with definitely more than just your boss’s sunscreen in it. You thank him and lean in for a kiss but he grins, turning away from you to go back to the trunk, “Sorry, forgot a bag.” 

He reappears with the trunk closes, another Target bag in his hands that he passes to you. The weight reveals what it is before you look, but you peek to be sure, “Ed…”

“I didn’t really have to pee,” he confesses, “You just really liked it and you looked so sad when you put it back so, you know, I just wanted to do something nice.” 

“It’s really nice,” you smile, looking down at the green Casaluna blanket nestled in the bag, “I just don’t want to like…feel like I owe you something.” 

“No, no, no,” he hurriedly shakes his head, “Please don’t feel like that. This really was just like – it’s not like a power move or anything I’m not like that, I promise – I don’t want anything in return, seriously.” 

“Except maybe a picture when it’s all set up nice in your living room,” he grins. Your eye rolls make his heart flutter because so far, you always kiss him after you do it and this time is no exception. 

“I’ll see you when I come back,” you say, wincing as the rain starts to pick up. “You act like you’re going to war, sugar,” he teases, “Like you’re not gonna text me in five minutes.” 

“Ew, bye,” you scowl, giving him a peck before hustling up the walkway to find refuge on the covered porch. 

“Bye,” he calls out, bottom lip tucking between his teeth in the afterglow of another good date. He gets back in the car and waits for you to get in safely before driving away towards his own apartment. At a red light, his phone goes off, just five minutes since he’s pulled away. He opens his texts, a full belly laugh barking from his mouth.  it looks great in my living room. oh shit it’s only been five minutes. 😡 fuck you. 

By day two of your trip, Eddie was already homesick for you. Savoring every message you could send his way when you weren’t busy, but also trying his best not to text you back immediately so he didn’t seem needy. Or worse, desperate. He liked it the most when you’d send pictures: big pink quartz bathtubs, amethyst arm chairs, huge chunks of malachite that were the size of his hand. 

these would make cool dice for d&d, right? the coolest. you should buy that and then hand carve the dice for me. let me pull a grand out of my ass real quick so i can get to work on that. so needy.   oh, so you miss me?  of course i do :) i miss you, too :) 

“So when’re we gonna meet your mystery girlfriend?” Robin asks, swirling her rum and coke with her straw, “Or does she go to a different school in Canada that we wouldn’t know about?” 

Steve snickers with Robin, two mean girls who always mean girl together. It was a Tuesday, which meant Robin and Steve would meet up for Happy Hour at a bar near Nancy’s office for the paper and then bother everyone else to come meet them until everyone showed up. The three sat at the corner of the bar, Steve in the center in his business casual. Patagonia vest over his blue button up, hair perfectly windswept with his sunglasses tucked into his t-shirt collar. Picture perfect finance bro with his mean lesbian guard dog to bark at any woman who might hurt his feelings. Eddie was convinced that if Robin wasn’t gay, they would’ve gotten married the day that they met. 

“Well she’s not my girlfriend yet, for one,” Eddie starts, defensively, “And if you wanna know if she’s real, here’s her Instagram.” 

He passes his phone to Robin who swipes through your photos with a nod, a smile pulling across her face, “Not bad at all, Munson.” 

“Let me see,” Steve demands with a slight whine, plucking the phone from her hand. He scrolls, a touch of a salacious smirk spreading across his face, “Oh, smash. Immediately smash.” Steve passes Eddie’s phone back to him on the table, screen open to a risque picture of you on the beach, “You didn’t fuck?” 

“Not yet, Harrington,” Eddie sighs, “I’ll be sure to let you know the moment I slip it in, okay?” 

“I’m just saying,” Steve shrugs, “I would’ve fucked her already.” 

“Yeah, we know loverboy,” Robin teases. Eddie’s shoulders tense a little because if Steve wanted you, he’d definitely be able to take you. He’s hot and charismatic, he has more money than he knows what to do with, and at the end of the day – Steve loves women. All kinds of women. Eddie swore Steve would leave college with a taste for thin blondes that were in his frat’s sister sorority but every night it was someone new. And every night, Steve Harrington got what Steve Harrington wanted. 

“Tell her to follow me,” Steve winks. 

“It’s the first thing I did when I met her, actually – told her to follow you,” Eddie jokes back. 

what’re you doing? happy hour with the group. well right now just rob and steve but everyone else is on the way. fun! i bought a new bathing suit at a vendor because i have bad impulse control. also look at these cool rocks. oh, sick – what kind are they? the vendor said they’re ocean jasper do you want one? will you get a matching one with me? also linger is playing at the bar right now and it’s…making me think about you? stupid as hell. absolutely will get us matching ones. i love that song. who said you could be this cute? pretty sure i did. steve says hi by the way, he’s ‘linger’ing over my shoulder. lmao you’re so corny “Is she gonna send you a picture of her in the bathing suit or not?” he asks impatiently. “She’s still working, man,” Eddie flips his phone over so the screen can’t be seen, “And even if she does, I’m not gonna show it to you.” “Yeah, don’t be such a perv Steve,” Robin sasses, “Get me another rum and coke instead.” 

After an hour, the rest of the group has made it and Eddie’s had three beers in a short span of time. Not enough alcohol to feel drunk, but enough alcohol that he keeps getting lost in the thought of your thighs on that barstool last week. The little overflow of your tummy in your jeans, your hips, what you might look like out of those jeans. What sounds you might’ve made if he went to your house after Target and he peeled those leggings off you. You’re busy and he’s bummed out about it only because he selfishly wishes you were here at happy hour instead of looking at cool rocks. “You look so sad right now,” Tatianna says from across the table the group has gathered round, “You miss your girl?” 

Eddie pouts dramatically, nodding, “I do.” “Guys this is the one, I’ve never seen him like this before,” Tatianna grins, “He’s down bad.” 

Tati reaches next to her to hold hands with Gareth giving it a squeeze, “Hinge is the truth, I’m telling you.” 

“I mean, you sure? He thought Chris was the one and look how that turned out,” Mike says from the other end. Everyone sighs and groans, whines of ‘C’mon Wheeler,’ sound out of a few of them. 

“When you know, you know, kid,” Gareth offers softly, “And I think Ed knows.” 

“When’re we gonna meet this girl who likes your nerdy ass?” Erica giggles next to him. “Exactly what I was saying earlier,” Steve adds. 

“I don’t think you need to meet her, Steve,” Dustin laughs, “Let him have something, for God’s sake.”  “Well,” Nancy starts, “I mean, Steve’s party at Barcade is next week. Might be a good sort of low stakes way to ease her in.” 

“That’s actually such a good idea,” Tatianna agrees. 

“But I have the jazz concert for my kids that night,” Eddie sulks. 

“Yeah but that ends at like, eight thirty,” she argues, “You should tell her to come. We’ll take care of her before you show up.”  “I’ll take realgood care of her, Munson,” Steve grins.

“Steve.”

Eddie’s head is down on his forearms so he doesn’t know how many people started scolding Harrington over his head. This was overwhelming again – this part. Eddie thought maybe all the fussing over starting to date would be the worst but now it’s every day that they ask about you. At least twice a day in the group chat – Your girl coming to D&D? How was your date last weekend? Is she with you right now? Tell her we all said hi. Are you gonna bring her to Tati’s art show?

He doesn’t have all the answers yet and he doesn’t know where you’re at either. Do you want to meet his friends? Would you even like them?

Everyone yelling at Steve is satisfying, but it would be cooler if you were here to see it.  

The following night he was up late grading papers he should’ve graded a week ago but he was too caught up in his personal life to care. Conversation with you had dwindled quickly last night as he spent more time at the bar and ended up planning the next campaign. You hadn’t reached out at all today and he felt too proud to be the one to text you first, a twinge of resentment plucking at his heart strings in his chest. Hollow loneliness drumming at his ribcage. 

The papers were graded, neatly stacked and put away in his bag for tomorrow, red pen capped and put back on his desk. Eddie groans as he stands up to stretch, peeling off his t-shirt and slipping off his sweatpants, tossing them haphazardly in the corner of the room by his hamper. He kicks off his socks, finally comfortable in his boxers and silver chain, before trudging down to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He comes back to a quiet buzz on his phone, screen glowing to life while he swipes it off his dresser. 

hey, sorry i was so MIA today. things got really busy and hectic, surprise zoom meeting with bloomingdale’s and then a second surprise offer call with bergdorf goodman and then a few vendors wanted to get dinner and schmooze. it’s no excuse honestly but i should’ve messaged you to let you know i was busy. i’m sorry, handsome :( thought about you all day if that helps 

Eddie’s heart leaps in his chest, cheeks already hurting from the smile splitting his face open. You thought about him all day. You thought about him all day. The same way he thinks about you all day. He climbs into bed, snuggling in under the covers with the glow of his phone illuminating his grinning face in the dark. 

don’t apologize, sweetheart, i know you’re busy. glad that your hectic day is over at least, now you can relax! thought about you all day, too. one of my kids kept trying to play juicy by doja cat on the sax at jazz practice, so you came to mind immediately. LMAO. i’ll take that as a compliment. what’re you doing up so late?  grading papers, but i’m done now. i’d ask why you’re up so late but it’s only nine thirty there. what’re you up to? trying this bathing suit on, finally. do you wanna see it?

“Do I wanna see it?” he murmurs, exasperated with an eye roll to no one, “Of course I wanna see it.” 

yeah, show me :) 

He waits with bated breath, trying his best to swipe out of the text conversation and do something else instead of counting the minutes until you reply. His heart hammers in his chest while he waits for the familiar buzz in his hand. 

And there you are, dark red spandex hugging you tight, cinching you in all the right places. His eyes linger on the high cut of the bottom, the way some of the pudge of your hips pokes out at the seams and he bites his lip. ‘Fuck,’ he mumbles quietly. Your thighs on full display for him, thick and begging for him to grab, you’re so fucking grabbable he can’t even stand it. 

jfc you know what you’re doing  whaaaaat? what do you mean?  ‘what do you meaaaannn 🤪’ you know what i mean.  do you not like it?  i like it a little too much  you wanna see it from the back? 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters into the darkness. He feels the blood rush to his pelvis like an army command, cock partially at attention while his hand palms delicately over his boxers. 

of course i do 

He gulps when the picture comes in, you posed like that on purpose. One ass cheek propped up on the bathroom counter, the other lifted and perky from your stance. The soft rolls of your back on display from how you’re turned to still have your pretty face in frame. He’d fucking wreck you. Lovingly, of course.

do you want me to hop on a flight or?? how much are tickets to az? i’m about to come thru.  you got enough blood in your brain to make that trip rn?  lmao you know i don’t 😏 sorry i’m all the way in a different state, i’d help take care of it. 

“Yeah?” he chokes out, palming turning to full slow strokes over the fabric, “You wanna take care of it for me?” 

yeah? you’d take care of it?  only if you asked nicely :) 

“Fuck,” he whispers, tossing his phone down to reach for his side table drawer to reach for the tiny bottle of lube he kept there. He tugs down his boxers hastily, squirting some of the liquid in his palm before picking up the phone again with his clean hand. 

i’d ask very nicely. i’d even say please.  what a good boy. :) 

“M’such a good boy,” he huffs, hand wrapping tightly around the base of his cock and dragging upwards, “I’ll be so good for you.” 

would you want me to use my hands or my mouth? 

“Oh my fucking God,” he groans, brain short circuiting at the thought of you on your knees while he stands over you. Eyes looking up at him with a hand tangled up in your hair, desperately trying to not thrust deep into your throat while you go to work on him. He bites his lip while he fucks his fist, palm and fingers gliding in time with his foreskin, teasing his tip. A fire lights in his belly, cooking up thoughts in his head on how he’d want you first. 

i like the idea of keeping your mouth full  oh you wanna shut me up? is that it?  i don’t think it takes much. 

His head leans back on the wall behind his bed, eyes closing while his hips roll up to meet the speed of his hand, slower now to stave it off. 

“Yeah, suck it just like that…” he hums out, “Please more.” His brows pinch while he looks back at the picture you sent, your glossed lips gleaming back at him. They’d look so good around his cock, your eyes would look so good filled up with tears when you tried to deep throat him.

“T-take all of it,” he stammers out, unsure of his own dirty talk to himself. Would he actually say that? 

Bzz. Bzz.

oh yeah cause you’re soooo big 🙄

“Psh,” he hisses out with a roll of the eyes, hand lifting off his cock to type back. He guesses when it comes to you, he would say that. Just so you’d stop being such a brat. 

you’re gonna feel so stupid when you see it  you sound very confident  because i am  is it big? 

He looks down at himself confidently, laying fat and dense up his stomach, kicking up at the thought of you seeing it for the first time. Chrissy always gawked at it, despite how many times she’d seen it, it was always like she was seeing it for the first time. The girls he’d pull into the bathroom at The Hideout and other bars would whine at the sight. Both him and them slurring together about how they can make it fit. 

its big, sweetheart. but i think you can take it.  i know i can take it.  so sure of yourself tonight, huh? bet you wouldn’t be so cocky if you were here.  so i could watch you jerk it in your bedroom? puhlease. 🙄 i can tell by how you’re talking that you really like the idea of that.  so you are jerking it in your bedroom?  the same way i know you have your fingers between your pretty thighs

He doesn’t know that, but it was worth the shot. His mind reels, thinking of you barely changing out of your swimsuit into nothing to lay back on your hotel bed to touch yourself to him talking to you. He grunts when his hand wraps around his length again, fisting himself with more intention, thinking about your hips writhing in time with his. He wishes he knew how you sounded when you felt good, how you’ll sound when he makes you feel good. And god does he wanna make you feel good. 

🙈 stop  yeah? i can stop.  don’t actually, i’m just embarrassed 😩 how come?  cause i do have my fingers between my thighs 

“Fuuuuuck me,” he groans into a whimper. He shudders a gasp while his hips buck up to meet his hands thrusts, imagining you on top of him, under him, below him, above him. Mouth, hands, pussy, anything of yours bobbing over his cock. Wiping the images clean and starting over with you splayed out on the hotel bed again, trying to keep quiet so your boss won’t hear you through the hotel’s thin walls. 

does it feel good, sweetheart?  it would feel better if you were doing it for me.  can i call you?

“Can I call you?” he reads out loud, in a whisper, “Can I…call you…” 

absolutely. 

Your face pops up on his phone within the minute, phone buzzing rhythmically in his hands. His heart rate jerks alive, stomach dropping like he’s on a roller coaster while it continues to ring. 

He accepts, swallowing thickly as he does. 

“Hey there,” he murmurs. 

“Hi,” your voice is shaky on the other end, he holds back a moan. 

“Hi,” he says back to you, squeezing himself softly at the base again. 

“Do you wanna hear something embarrassing?” you laugh, following up with a soft needy sigh. 

“Always,” he swoons out, low and warm. 

“Your voice is so hot to me,” you giggle, “I don’t think I could finish if I didn’t hear it.” 

“Ah, there you go again, thinking your compliments to me are embarrassing,” he smirks. You sigh again and he lets out a heady breath while he strokes himself, teetering towards a climax. 

“Sorry,” you smile, and he can hear it in your voice, “You having a hot voice isn’t embarrassing. Me getting off to it is embarrassing.” 

He pauses, hearing your shallow breaths pick up, waiting for the right time to strike. His thumb trails over his tip to smear the precum oozing out of it over the head — his eyes roll back as he thinks about your tongue there instead. 

“S’not embarrassing,” his eyelids lower, settling deeper into his pillows. He groans low in his chest before speaking again, “You all wet for me, sugar?” 

“Yeah,” you whine to him. 

“Wish I could be there to take care of you,” he huffs, “I’d make you feel so good.”  

“How?” you ask breathily. 

He smirks, biting his lower lip, letting out a low laugh, “I’d take my time with you. Sounds like you get real needy.” 

“I’m not needy,” you protest. 

“Not needy, but calls me from the other side of the country to cum to my voice?” he argues playfully, “Oh yeah, not needy at all, baby.” 

You whine again, a few huffs of breath sound in the receiver. 

“You like that?” he asks lowly, “When I’m a little mean to you?” 

“Yeah…” 

“Fuck…” he whispers back, blood rushing to the tip, twitching while he works his hand up his shaft.

“Wait – are you actually jacking it right now?” you ask with a laugh. 

“Yeah,” he sighs back, “Are you surprised?” 

“How long have you been doing it?” 

“Since you sent me that picture with your whole ass out,” he confesses with a giggle, it just makes sense to him to answer honestly. 

“Is that how you wanna fuck me?” your voice is laced with depth and sex, his hips buck up at the sound, “From the back?” 

“Maybe not at first,” he starts, imagining he’s in the hotel with you, eyes locking on yours while you touch yourself. Meeting your pleading eyes with a salacious grin while he pumps his cock, climbing on top of the mattress. Climbing on top of you. 

“I’d probably want you on your back so I could see your pretty face,” he offers, “Watch you take it.” 

You sigh into the receiver again and he groans quietly while pleasure starts taking him over. 

“But if I’m being honest…” he starts again, voice lightly teasing. Your breaths pick up, and if he thinks he’s hearing right, you’re very wet. Just because of him, the way he’s talking to you. He shudders before regaining his composure, voice dropping dangerously low. 

“I can’t wait to get my mouth on that pussy,” he slurs out, drunk on the idea. 

“Mmm, fuck,” you mewl out. Okay Munson, maybe you still know how to do this shit. “Oh, you like the sound of that, huh?” he asks, a light raise to his voice, “You like thinking about me between your legs?” 

“Yes,” you huff through gritted teeth. He feels his orgasm creeping up on him quick, your little whines hitting his ear and gliding down his chest to his pelvis. Every soft puff of your breath feels like he’s the one making it punch out of you. 

“I know you’d take it so good, too. You’d get so messy for me,” he groans again when his palm grazes over the underside of his tip, cock leaking cum unceremoniously, sending shockwaves through his system, “Just like you are right now, hm?  Waiting for me to come over ‘n’ fuck you stupid?” “Please,” you whine into a growl, “Please fuck me stupid.” 

“Oh baby, I will,” he moans while he feels his balls tighten, closer and closer to the edge, hearing you pant and beg like that. Just for him. He grunts, breath huffing from his nose like a bull while his orgasm takes him over, cum shooting onto his belly in thick ropes, “F-fuck till you can’t fuckin – mmmf – can’t fuckin’ think.” “Oh! Oh my god, fuck. Fuck!” you cry out into the receiver. He grins, satisfied at that reaction, both of you taking deep breaths into your mics while you both come down. 

“Did you cum for me, sugar?” he drawls. 

“Mhm,” you squeak out. His grin doesn’t fade, it turns dirty, filthy, “Good girl.” 

“Don’t say that.” He can hear your embarrassed smile in your voice, it makes him laugh. He’s normally not like that, that’s not something he thinks he’s ever said in bed – at least not sober. 

“I won’t say it, I’m sorry. You don’t like that?” he asks thoughtfully. 

“I like it a lot and you’re too far away,” you say softly. 

“Poor thing,” he offers. 

“I am a poor thing!” you exclaim. You quiet down a little, both just listening to each other breathe on the other end, “I’m excited to see you again, when I come back.” 

“I’m excited to see you, too,” he smiles while he speaks softly into the receiver, “But lucky for me, I have these pictures of you to hold me over until then.” 

“Visual learner?” you tease. “Physical, too,” he counters. 

“You really are trouble,” you laugh, “And um – I don’t want you to think that like, the only reason I wanna see you is just to have sex or anything. I just really like spending time with you.” 

“I don’t think that at all,” he assures, “I really, really like spending time with you. I’m – and this is gonna sound super lame – but I’m excited to keep on getting to know you.” 

“Lamest thing I’ve ever heard,” you laugh, “But also, same. We can be lame together.” “Oh – uh, by the way,” Eddie’s voice reverts back to normal while a reminder jolts his body awake, “The group really wants to meet you and I know it’s gonna be the day after you get back and you might want to rest, but Steve’s birthday party is Friday if you wanna come. Totally understand if you’re gonna be too tired.” “Oh no, I’d love that!” he can hear you shifting on the mattress, likely getting ready for bed, “Steve’s the one whose Instagram request I shouldn’t accept, right?” Eddie laughs, “Right.”

You both talk for a little longer before he tells you it’s getting late and you should get some rest since you had such a long day. He doesn’t want to hang up, but you’re both too old to be doing the ‘falling asleep on the phone’ thing. Plus, he had to be up for work in five hours. 

Eddie slides into the seat on his Honda Civic and sighs – he’s tired. He doesn’t want to go to Steve’s party where everyone is gonna be loud and drunk by the time he gets there. He hates playing catch up, but you’re gonna be there so he’s doing his best to hype himself up before he starts the car. He cracks the Monster Energy sitting in his center console and chugs it, heaving a deep breath before starting the car. Mayhem’s Freezing Moon blares through his speakers and he nods to himself, Good, good, good. It would be a hype enough song to get him excited on the way there. He gives himself a once over in the rearview mirror, looking the same as he did when he freshened up in the teacher’s bathroom after the Jazz Club performed during the Spring Concert. His slim fit black slacks still kept their crease, his wallet chains still dangled from his pocket. Eddie took your advice and started wearing more green, a hunter short sleeved linen blend button up laid open and loose over a clean and expensive white t-shirt. If he didn’t know any better, he would say he looked hot. His hair was coiffed and coiled – he made sure to get a trim before you came back just to touch up the shag. His tattoos were the showiest you’d ever seen them and deeply moisturized, his silver chain and small rings were recently cleaned. 

He wants you to lose your mind when you see him, but when he walks into the bar he knows he already lost. There you are, standing at the bar with Nancy, Robin, Steve, and Dustin while they laugh with you at some story you’re telling. You’re all legs in your little black skirt with a cute cropped ‘ARIZONA’ sweatshirt cinching you in right at the waist. Your little white sneakers were shining purple in the black light of the bar, you probably wear these everywhere. 

“Eddie!” Dustin calls out, giving a big wave to call him towards the party. You whip around, beaming while he makes his way over, meeting him part way with a drink in your hand. He can smell your perfume immediately and he’s surprised he hasn’t already fallen to his knees. “Started without me, huh?” he asks, nodding to the drink in your hand. “I tried to get Steve a drink but he said it was a better gift for him to buy me one…or two,” you tell him sheepishly. Eddie catches Steve’s eyes over your shoulder when he pulls you in to say hello and shakes his head. Steve smirks, blowing him a kiss before mouthing, ‘Her ass? Insane.’ putting his hands out to show off the size of it. Eddie flips him off while he lets you go. 

“Everyone’s been really nice though,” you smile, giving him a once over, “You look really good.” 

“Thank you,” he says in your ear, kissing your cheek, “You look too good. Don’t think I can let you stick around here too long.” 

“S’kinda hot when you’re like that,” you grin sloppily, biting your lip. The tequila’s blurring the filter in your head a little, he can tell you’re just saying what comes to mind, eyes a little glassy. 

“Like what?” “A lil’ possessive,” you shrug. He tucks a knuckle under your chin, lifting your gaze toward him for a moment.  “Okay,” he smiles, leaning in to kiss you much more passionately than you expected. Your mouth is cold against his, tongue sliding in to taste the tequila on yours. He snakes one arm around your waist so that you’re chest to chest, both of you laughing against each other’s lips while Tati and the group whoop and holler over your makeout. He breaks away, looking down at you, eyes sparkling. 

“I missed you,” he says confidently. 

“I missed you,” you smile, pulling him tight against you. This was what he was waiting for. An ounce of clinginess so that he didn’t feel so insane for wanting to be close to you all the time. He leads you back over to the bar, hand on your lower back while you put yourself back in your little group. 

“What’re you having tonight, big boy?” Ed asks Steve, clapping him on the back in a brotherly hug. 

“Surprise me – you doing shots?” he asks. Eddie nods, getting the bartender’s attention when she makes his way over. 

“Can I get four shots of Jameson and then two for my buddy over here?” he asks, pointing at Steve with his thumb. The bartender nods, lining up the shot glasses and starting the pour. “I don’t really like Jameson,” you scrunch your nose. 

“Well baby, they’re all for me, so don’t worry about it,” he grins playfully, white teeth shining, “I’ll get you something else when you finish that drink.” 

You nod lazily, pulled into conversation with Robin while Steve and Eddie start taking their shots. The whiskey feels good hitting his throat, burning just enough to reinvigorate him for the rest of the night. He clicks his tongue when he downs them all, the scent of Tatianna’s vanilla perfume overtakes him before her hands cover his eyes from behind. 

“Guess who it is,” she laughs. 

“Someone who used my Warm Vanilla Sugar hand lotion today,” he answers, his fingers running over hers while he peels her hands away. He turns to her to pull her into a hug and then hugging Gareth behind her, already with their drinks in hand. 

“Look, it went with the fragrance I was wearing today. You used my curl cream again so – you can’t even be mad,” she shrugs, beckoning him over with her hand, “Come sit with us really quick.” 

Eddie turns to get your attention but Tatianna stops him, “She’s a big girl, she’s been doing fine on her own without you here, so far. Let her make friends.” Eddie pouts and Gareth pats him on the back after passing Tati’s drink to her, guiding him over to their booth close by the end of the bar. Eddie sits in the middle of the bench, looking like a kid who just got in trouble and is about to get a stern talking to by his parents. “So…” Eddie starts. 

“I really like her, dude,” Gareth grins, “Came in and immediately knew who we were, introduced herself, offered to get us a round. All around seems very much your vibe.” 

“And you, mom?” he asks, eyes lifting up through his lashes to look at Tatianna who has a smug grin on her face. 

“All I’m saying is that you should always be listening to me when I tell you to do something,” she shrugs, “‘Cause what if you had deleted the app that night? Would’ve never met the love of your life right there.” 

“Love of my life? You think?” he asks, eyes widening. “I know. Her energy is exactly what I thought it was gonna be,” Tatianna explains, gold rings in her twists flashing back the neon reflecting on them, “And you’ve been down bad for the past few weeks so I knew there had to be something about her that was really good.” 

“So you like her?” Eddie grins. 

“We love her,” Tatianna nods, “Consider her adopted.” 

“Steve loves her too, it looks like,” Eddie huffs, looking back over at the bar to see Steve showing you something on his phone, a little too close for comfort. 

“He’s behaving himself, don’t worry,” Dustin says while he slides in next to Eddie, “We all gave him a warning before she got here. Plus, he’s got two girls on his radar right now that he’s trying to take home if he doesn’t get too drunk – but y’know, we’re banking on the getting too drunk part.” 

“Always banking on the getting too drunk part,” Gareth laughs. 

The night continues on, people coming and going, getting up to dance, getting new drinks. He watches you blend in seamlessly, swaying with Tatianna at the bar while you wait for a rum and coke for you and water for him. He still has to drive home after all. 

“What do you know about this song?” Tatianna laughs while Victoria Monet’s Coastin’ booms over the speakers. You both walk back over, two stepping in time until Gareth pulls Tatianna in tight to him, rocking back and forth with each other and stealing kisses. 

Eddie watches you approach him while you lipsync the words playfully, hips swaying in in time with the beat. 

‘Think of the waaaays, The ways I wanna give you this ass, Just how you liiiiike, Feel like a Thursday how I’m throwin’ it back.’ “The ways you wanna give me this ass, huh?” he smirks, eyes flitting over you while he takes the water yor offer him. You keep up with your sway, pressing up close to him – you look up with a fake unamused quirk of your brow and he knows you’re about to say something bitchy that’ll make him fall for you even harder. “I don’t think you could handle it,” you flirt. 

“You know something?” he starts, putting his water on the table of the booth, catching you before you can sit down, “I think I can handle you just fine.” You burn at his words, a shy grin pulling at your lips when he sits down at the edge of the bench next to Nancy and across from Steve and Robin. It’s fun to flirt with you like this, right on the precipice of something a little dirty. He wants you so bad and if he knows women as well as he thinks he does, he knows you want him so bad, too.  He pats his thigh, encouraging you to sit on his lap. You hesitate at first but he nods encouragingly, a silent Please, it’s okay. You settle in, the table high enough that both sets of your thighs fit under the table. He takes a breath before letting his hands settle on your skin, imagining what it might be like when he gets to put his hands on all of it. 

Everyone banking on Steve getting too drunk to take someone home was right, him and Robin were already in their codependent best friend phase of the night where they only want to hang out with each other, hands cupped tight on the table. You’re talking to Robin about a game that’s like Sims but 8-bit – 

“It’s called Unpacking and it’s so cute, you basically unpack a house or a room and you learn more about the person’s story by unpacking their boxes – sort of like Sims but with actual feelings that you don’t have to make up,” you enthuse. 

“Is it on Steam?” she asks, “I’ll literally buy it right now.” 

“We’re partying, Rob, don’t play a dumb game,” Steve whines. 

“She’s not gonna play it right now, Steve,” Nancy chides, “She’s gonna play it later. Don’t worry, we all know tonight is about you.” 

Lucas comes over to the table looking aggravated, Max grinning next to him in a smile that Eddie knows too well. Lucas lost a bet and has to pay up, Eddie wonders what they bet on this time. 

“Why does your Dragon’s Lair score have to be so fucking high? Can you literally let anyone have anything?” Lucas huffs. 

“Don’t be so sad, Sinclair – you can always try to beat Red’s score,” Eddie shrugs, smirking smugly at the pair. 

“She’s 250 points behind you, and you’re both like, seven thousand points ahead of everyone else,” he huffs. 

“What’d’you owe her this time?” he asks. 

“I can’t even tell you out loud,” he sighs. Max cackles, offering her hand and leading him back over to the Party at the bar, fingers laced with each other while they talk. Eddie adjusts under you, groin shifting under your ass by accident but he savors how delicious it feels to have you on top of him like this. 

“Are there any other games in there that you have a high score on?” you ask, breath hitching slightly while his hands coast teasingly over your bare skin under the table. Your posture straightens when his fingers glide up your inner thigh, brushing his fingertips past the hem of your skirt. You like that, he thinks, your body language tells him all he needs to know to keep going. 

“The Dracula pinball machine,” he replies confidently. 

“I’m gonna go beat it,” you grin up at him. 

“Oh yeah?” he asks, hand sliding off your thigh when you get up to head to the arcade room,  “You even know how to play?” 

“You can show me,” you shrug. He doesn’t really have to show you, pinball is pretty self explanatory, but he doesn’t want to give up a chance to have you alone. He leads you to the machine, pointing out where you want the ball to hit for the best chance at extra points. The music on the sound system is loud and the machine’s music matches it so he has to get close to your ear to explain. 

“Do you think I don’t really know how to play or do you just wanna get close to me?” you ask, turning your head to look at him while he chin hooks over your shoulder. “You caught me,” he blushes, hand resting on your hip while he fills the gap between your back and his chest, “I’m sure you’re gonna do just fine.” 

And you do, in fact, you’re really fucking good at pinball and he’s almost mad about it. “Where did you learn to do this?” he asks after you rack up nearly three fourths of his high score in one go, the ball just narrowly missing the lever before sinking down to be propelled again. 

“Summers on the boardwalk in New Hampshire,” you grin, “My uncle lives over there so we go visit him every year. Played one pinball machine every summer – my high score still stands, like, eleven years later.” “That’s so hot to me, oh my god,” he laughs while you get the next ball rolling onto the board. You lean forward, hips jutting out against him while you really get into it, concentrating hard. Eddie’s breath hitches when you slowly move your hips against him, so slow that he’s not sure if you’re doing it on purpose or not.  Rihanna’s Work starts over the speakers and  that’s when he knows it’s on purpose. Your movement’s pick up a little, lost in the game and in the beat. You’re a good dancer and that makes his mind wander to other things you might be good at. Your fingers work quick on either side of the machine, lights flashes against both of your faces while you keep trying to win and he keeps trying to not pull your skirt up in the middle of Barcade. 

While the song continues, he stops paying attention to you playing, so caught up in how your waist winds and ass bounces against him that he doesn’t realize you aren’t even playing any more. His hips grind slowly back against you, one hand on your lower back, the other gripping your hip to keep you in position. This isn’t new territory for him, pulled into clubs by Tati and Gare, Robin and Steve, everyone else, from the moment things opened back up again in Indiana. When you look back at him he short circuits at first, but he knows you’re surprised he can dance like this. Maybe you forgot, but he does teach Music Theory – rhythm is kind of his whole thing. Of course he has it.  

Your hips roll, making your ass run painstakingly slow and firm over his hardening cock. A groan gets stuck in his throat, reaching out to your shoulder to pull you up right again with your back against his chest. 

“You like bein’ a tease?” he asks, voice deep and daunting. 

“Just getting you back for what you did under the table,” you say matter-of-factly, turning around to face him with your butt leaning against the machine, “You’re not the only one here who knows how to be a slut.” “Also, I beat you,” you grin. 

“Looks like you did,” he says, eyes passing yours to look at the new high score glowing on the outdated screen. 

“Do I win a prize?” 

“M’sure I can think of something,” he murmurs, lips pressing against yours while both of your eyes flutter closed. He takes your hand, leading you to the dark corner close by, both of you hidden by the now defunct change machine to press you up against the wall. “What do you think you deserve?” he purrs before catching your mouth in his again. His kiss is a little sloppy, a little needy, it’s the four shots of Jameson. Not too drunk to drive, but buzzed enough that he doesn’t care about his kissing technique, he just wants to taste you. “Oh, it’s like that?” you giggle mischievously, “I don’t think we can do what I think I deserve in a public place.” 

“Hmm, okay, not into exhibitionism I guess,” he huffs a laugh while his kisses trail to your neck, knee slotting between your legs where you eagerly press up against him. He feels one of your hands fall into his hair, making his assault on the crook of your neck more intense when you give it a slight pull. “Kiss me,” you whine softly. “M’sorry, sorry,” he smirks, meeting your lips again, “You just smell really good, I like being in there.” “You’re a really good –” Kiss. “Mmm--kisser.” “Thanks, sugar, you’re –” Kiss. “Not so bad your –” Kiss. “Mmm shit – yourself.”  He can barely think like this, so close to you but not close enough. Hands on your waist and hips to guide you against part of his thigh while a little whine pulls out of you. He can’t hold off much longer, feeling his pants grow unbearably tight. 

“Let’s get out of here,” he mumbles against your jaw, a satisfied smile blooms on his face when you roll your hips against his knee again. 

“You don’t wanna hear everyone drunkenly sing Steve happy – oh, mmm – happy birthday?” you pant out while he presses kisses at the curve of your jaw back to your mouth. His hand entwines with the hair at the nape of your neck, giving you a soft tug to keep your head in place. 

“The only thing I wanna hear right now,” he purrs in your ear, “Is what you sound like when I’m making you cum.” 

The ride home is quick, barely saying goodbyes while he pulled you through the crowds building at the bar and paid the tab. Gareth shot him a wink as they left, tossing you both a wave but neither of you could think of anything else except each other. 

He dropped his keys twice trying to get in the door of his first floor apartment, “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” you smile, “Just breathe. I’m still gonna be here.” 

The door opens and he takes a millisecond to rip your coat off and kick off his shoes, instructing you to kick off your sneakers or Tati would likely emerge from the walls and kill you both for walking into the house with your outside shoes on. His lips immediately attach to yours. There’s no time to waste for him, pulling you over to the couch and plopping down with an excited puff of breath. “C’mere baby,” he beckons you over with two fingers, grinning up at you while you climb over his lap to straddle him. His kiss is searing, hands exploring you with abandon, all the ways he’s been thinking about touching you were now fair play. No one here to see either of you, no one around to interrupt. You can feel how hard he is under his dress pants, the material leaves little to the imagination. The gentle curve of it, its thickness, the length, all pressing up against you with every mutual roll of your hips. 

You choke out a whimper when it hits just right up against your clothed slit. Eddie looks up at you mischievously, greedily sucking on your neck for a moment before catching your gaze a little.

“That’s all it takes? Just pushing my hips up like that?” he purrs, rolling them up again slowly, “Is that what you want?”

“Uh-huh,” you breathe. He bites at the skin on your chest, not hard enough to hurt. He grips and grabs you but not hard enough to bruise. He’s testing the waters, seeing what you like and how you like it. His hands travel down past your hips, gripping the fat of your ass.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans into your mouth, exploring you more, his palms flattening against your skirt while it rides up, the curve of your cheeks warm in his hands. 

“Finally got to grab it the way you wanted to?” you tease between breaths. 

“Mhmm,” he groans, “Now I just gotta smack it around.” 

You take his lower lip between your teeth, making his cock twitch when you let it go to click back against his gums. 

“Ooh, you wanna spank me?” you laugh into your next kiss. His hand reaches up to pull at your waist, pushing you tighter up against him. His fingers graze between your legs from behind while your head falls back in a breathy gasp. 

“Do you want me to spank you?” he asks, brows raised inquisitively.  

“Maybe not tonight,” you shrug with a smirk, hips winding over him in a way that makes him really feel you. He growls when you do it, hands guiding your hips to do it again, “Maybe only when I’ve been bad.” 

“Jus’lemme know,” he grumbles, pupils taking over the brown in his eyes, “So I can  — mmm, shit — teach ya a lesson.” 

“Next time,” you huff into his next kiss. He manhandles you so that your back is to the cushions and throw pillows, switching your positions so that he’s on top.

“Next time,” he nods, pulling your sweatshirt off and dropping it to the floor, “But since you’re so good, it only makes sense that you get a reward, right?” 

“I did beat you at pinball, so…” you grin. He grins back, kissing your neck hungrily, slotting his knee between your legs like he did at the bar. 

“You did beat me at pinball,” he nods, a soft growl brewing in his chest when he feels you start to grind against him. Insatiable, he thinks, Greedy girl. But he doesn’t know if he can say that to you yet. He doesn’t know, all the way, what you like. He feels his heart hammer in his chest at the fear of realizing it – you aren’t Chrissy. What if he was only good because Chrissy thought so? What if he wasn’t actually – 

“Oh!” you squeak out, hand reaching out to grip his bicep. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, pulling away from your neck to look at you, big brown eyes blown with nerves. 

“Y-yeah that’s just…where you’re kissing…that’s a spot for me,” you admit bashfully, unable to look at him. 

“Sweetheart,” he shakes his head with a knowing smirk, “Shouldn’t’ve told me that.” 

A kiss on the lips is his only consolation to you before he goes back to your neck, tongue trailing down to its last spot where he parks his teeth and lips. You like that. He hears you like it. And fucking God is it good to hear you like this, to hear you in person, moaning and whining in his ear just from kissing and sucking this spot on your neck. 

“Eddie…” you breathe, high pitched and desperate, hips still pressing against his knee for friction. He can’t help but go back to your lips, but before he does, he peeks to see the marks he left behind. 

Lips become neck, neck becomes chest, chest becomes stomach, stomach becomes hips, and before you know it he’s on his knees on the rug in front of you. Eddie’s eyes find yours when he’s kneeling between your legs, the center of your thighs looking him in the face. He places a kissing on the inside of your knee, gentle and soft. 

He opens his mouth to ask, but you nearly read his mind, tugging up the hem of your skirt over your thick thighs. He helps, pushing the fabric up over your hips and ass so he gets another chance to touch and feel you. Once he settles back down he takes a breath, smiling up at you while he readjusts your legs to open a little wider, mouth making contact with your skin soon after. His lips capture the fat of your inner thigh, traveling down in passionate kisses, like your skin is divinity that he’s found for the first time. 

“You’re so soft,” he whispers, lips ghosting over your underwear to reach the top of your other knee, planting a kiss there too. 

“Thank you,” you breathe out. He lets out a low, teasing giggle at the state of you, head lolling back on the couch while he kisses the inside of one thigh and runs his hand over the outside of the other. His kisses stop and he looks up at you from between your legs, big brown eyes begging you to let him in. A ringed finger teases over the gusset of your underwear, the way you bite your lip gives him the approval to keep going. His slides your panties off, run of the mill black cheeky cut cotton that he wished he could’ve stripped you down to. Just to see that ass swallowing them, to see the way they sat on the curves of your hips. 

“You nervous?” he asks with a smile while your legs close, your underwear placed on the floor next to your shirt.

“A little,” you giggle. 

“Don’t be nervous, baby,” he coos, hands cupping under your knees to spread your legs again, “Just gonna make you feel good.” 

He sighs when your legs open up for him, already wet and puffy, you’d been thinking about this all night. Eddie nips softly at your inner thigh again before he lets his lips linger over your folds. You squirm your hips closer to him, a whine leaking out of your mouth. 

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, “I won’t tease you, I’m sorry.” 

But he’s lying. Leaning in to get close, only to ghost a breath over your clit. Fingers sliding to your slick lips to separate them slightly for more access to you. He pauses, leaning back away from your pussy and looks up at you quizzically.

“Actually, should I put on Hey Mr. DJ to set the mood? Since it’s so fucknasty…” gesturing his thumb towards the sound system on the other side of the room. You let out a mix of a laugh and a groan while his kisses coast on your thighs again.

“You said you wouldn’t teaaaasssseeee-oh my God,” you moan out when his mouth meets your clit without warning, soft, slow sucks and licks. 

“You like that, sugar?” he asks, voice dropping down to a bassy gravel. 

You nod feverishly, “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” 

“Mmm, don’t stop?” he asks, tongue gliding from your entrance to your clit. 

“Please,” you gasp, hand reaching out to run through his hair, bangs pushing back to reveal the soft lines of his forehead. 

“Well you’re asking so nice, seems a little mean to keep you waiting,” he coos, fingers replacing his mouth while he talks, “But I thought you liked it when I was a little mean.” 

“Don’t be mean, Ed,” you pout. 

“Okay, I won’t be mean,” he smiles, opening your legs a little wider. He’s confident about his skills here, Chris loved getting eaten out so he dedicated a lot of time to getting it right. It helped that he loved going down, watching his partner gasp and whine while he serves her on his knees. Feeling the tug on his hair when he’s doing it right, making her feel good. The press of her hand to push him closer to her when she’s getting close, giving it to her over and over again. 

“Oh fuck, Ed — oh my god, baby,” you mewl, hips grinding up against his mouth. He smirks into the next stripe of his tongue, latching onto your clit to suck softly while his fingers press against your entrance. His eyes gaze up at you, your own going glassy while you look down at him. 

“I like when you look at me like that,” he confesses quietly, mouth returning to its actions immediately. He keeps his eyes on you while his first finger pushes in, he groans at the feeling — snug, warm, wet. He drags out slowly, a high pitched moan escaping you when he pushes back in with little resistance. His head moves with his mouth, tongue laving over your clit, lips pursing over it when he feels your pulse over his finger. 

“You’re so good — fuck — you’re so good at this,” you sigh. The praise runs down his chest and along his spine, he moans gratefully into his next kiss against you. He stripes his tongue again, using his other hand to keep your lips spread for more access. Your thighs twitch while he goes back to soft deliberate sucking, alternating between that and gentle fluttering flicks from the tip of his tongue. 

“That’s good for you?” he mumbles. 

“You’re so good for me,” you whisper back, gripping his hair hard when he pushes his second finger in, “Just…unhm, just like that.” 

He keeps a steady pace with his fingers, evidence of his skill coating them while he does. He wants to drag this out a while, take his time with you like he said he would. He breaks his mouth away for a moment to really look at you, just in your bra and skirt. His heart skips a beat, breath caught in his throat. You’re so beautiful, he thinks. Too afraid to say it outloud. What if you don’t like that while you have sex? You said you like when he was a little mean, does that mean he should be mean all the time? 

“Earth to Ed…” he hears you say, your hand waving in his face. He looks back up at you, startled, “You okay? You stopped and sort of just…stared for a second.” 

“Oh my god, I’m sorry,” he laughs to himself, taking his fingers away to massage the inside of your thighs with both hands, “Just got caught up staring at you.” 

“Ew,” you giggle with a smile, “You think I’m pretty or somethin’?” 

Eddie leans up between your legs on the couch where you come down to meet him, noses inches apart, “Well I don’t wanna be too forward…” 

“You’re literally eating me out, you can’t get any more forward,” you both laugh at the ridiculousness of it. Of both being shaky and shy even this far into the game. 

“Like I was saying — I don’t wanna be too forward, but I think you’re honestly so beautiful,” he blushes bashfully, looking down so all you can see are his full lashes, “And I didn’t wanna be corny and say it while I’m like, neck deep in your pussy.”

“That’s very sweet, baby.” You run your hand through his hair, pushing back one side when he looks up at you again. Baby. He likes when you call him that. He likes when you call him baby. He’s excited for you to call him other names like pretty boy, and babe, and honey. He wants to hear ‘em all. He wants you to spend the night so he can make you breakfast in the morning — for like…ever. You kiss him and he shudders, cock jumping in his slacks for a hint of attention — but he has a job to finish. 

“You’re very sweet,” he says, nuzzling your nose before kissing your cheek, then your jawline, your neck, your chest, down and further down until he’s between your legs again — he doesn’t tease this time. He licks at your entrance, replacing his fingers with his tongue to lap up what you have for him. Your thighs tremble he trails back up, swirling his tongue over your clit when his fingers snugly sink back inside you. 

“Eddie…” 

“You gonna cum for me?” he asks, voice smokey and deep. He lets his fingers search inside you for your g-spot, grinning when he finds it. Your moan is loud when he massages it, hips pushing down into the couch cushions, head thrown back while you grind against him. 

“M’so close,” you huff, “That feels so good, please don’t stop. Don’tstopdon’tstop.” 

He grunts, feeling your thighs jump while he keeps up his pace. His tongue gets sloppy with it, wet and filthy, pooling spit out of his mouth in droves to mix with your slick. He fills you with a third finger, legs parting further again while you huff into the stretch. 

“Ooh, you can really take it, baby,” he encourages, “Look at you takin’ all these fingers.” He glides the flat of his tongue over you once before leaning back to watch you. The pads of his fingers press in slow circles against your g-spot again, smirking when your eyes roll back. 

“M’gonna cum…oh shit  — oh fuck Ed I’m g.. — ohfuck — fuckfuckfuck — mmm-ah!” Your hips jump, lifting off the couch, writhing to pull away while you feel your orgasm rush rapidly to its peak. 

“Thaaaat’s it,” he smiles, mouth returning home to its place latched over you. He holds your hips down with his free hand, eyes fluttering closed while he continues. A slight flit of his tongue right as he pumps his fingers in puts stars in your eyes, thighs snapping closed on either side of his head — exactly what he wanted.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” you chant with strained, shaking vocal chords, tears pricking your eyes. Eddie groans when he feels your walls clench down hard over his fingers, flooding over him down his hand. You hiss while he keeps going, fingers easing out of you but tongue licking up as much as he can while you come down in shivers. 

“You okay?” he asks, when your thighs release him. You reach for his hand, still covered in your juices and pull it toward you — but he knows your game. He knows you’re gonna lick it off and give him those eyes — so he pulls his wrist away, “Oh, no baby.”  

Eddie delicately puts his fingers in his mouth, eyes on yours with a glint of satisfaction, and gently sucks them clean instead. 

“I don’t like to waste it, sugar,” he croons, “I can make you something if you’re hungry.” 

His sexy act breaks when you roll your eyes at him, clearly flustered by his antics in your post orgasm glow. He snickers when he stands up, leaning down to peck you with your arousal still smeared on his mouth and chin. 

“Don’t laugh at me,” you pout. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he pouts back. A peck turns to a kiss, a kiss to something passionate. 

“Why don’t I go get cleaned up,” he starts, before catching you in another kiss.

“You should pee since that’s the smart thing to do before and after,” he presses a kiss to your neck.

“And then I’ll take you to bed,” he murmurs huskily, “How’s that?” 

“That’s really nice,” you rasp back, turning so that you’re nose to nose, “But I am a little hungry now that you said that.” 

“You’re funny,” he smiles, another kiss, “I’ll get us a snack and then I’ll take you to bed, is that better?” 

“Much better.”  

Eddie passes you your panties and shirt, and points out where the bathroom is down the hall. While you traipse along, he opens the fridge, taking out the tiramisu he got as dessert with his takeout last night but didn’t get around to eating. He slices the generous cut in half, gently placing it on two tea plates and grabbing two forks. 

“Do you like tiramisu?” he asks when he hears your socked feet pad into the kitchen. 

“I do. My mom’s is the best actually,” you brag. He turns around to see you, your bright smile, your refreshed face. 

“Will you still eat it if it’s not your mom’s?” he asks, offering you the plate. 

“Yes, of course,” you nod, taking both plates out of his hands and placing them on the table, “But first I gotta –” 

Eddie’s taken aback by the kiss, but you don’t notice. He’s swift at the pick up, matching your pace expertly and hoisting you up onto the counter with surprising ease. He grunts when you pull him forward between your legs by the belt loops because he knows you’re trying to fuck just as much as he is. 

“Baby…” he starts, regretfully breaking away, “Are you hungry or not?” 

You don’t answer at first, you just look at him and kiss him again. When you pull away, your gaze lingers. Fear coasts icily over his chest when you almost look forlorn. 

“Shit…” you whisper, shoulders drooping. 

“Wh-what? What is it?” he asks, hands getting clammy where they rest on your thighs.

“I…” you take a deep breath, it shakes when you exhale, “I really fucking like you.” 

He smiles, but he knows why this is your response, why you look like this, why your shoulders sulk — because he’s also there, “Does that make you scared?” 

You nod, but instead of going in to kiss you again he pulls you close, smooching your cheek before leaning your head on his shoulder. 

“It’s okay that you’re scared,” he murmurs, “But if it’s any consolation…”

“I really fucking like you, too.” 

When you kiss again, he’s overwhelmed. 

“Fuck the tiramisu,” you breathe, “Let’s just —.” 

“Mhm,” he breathes back, hoisting you off the counter, balancing you on his hips, “I fucking need you.” 

Jingle. Click. Creak. 

“HONEY, WE’RE HOME!” calls the voice of a sloshed Steve Harrington, from the front door, “Put your clothes on, sluts.” 

But it’s not just Steve, it’s the whole party — the group filing into the living room while you hurriedly slide down Eddie’s form. Tatianna and Gareth follow in after everyone gets their shoes off, laughing and joking with Robin and Dustin while they stumble through the door. They halt when they catch Eddie’s expression from the other room, a stare so cold it could freeze them both. ‘I’m so sorry,’ Gareth mouths, realizing with deep regret what they’ve interrupted. Tatianna makes her way over, making a face of pure guilt when she makes it into the kitchen. 

“So here’s the thing, my phone died and Steve was using Gareth’s phone to change the music and I forgot to text you,” she explains to the both of you, “I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s seriously okay,” you laugh, “Please don’t feel bad. It’s you and Gareth’s apartment, too.” 

“Are you mad at me?” Tati pouts at Eddie, who could not stay mad at Tati for even a second. 

He puffs a dramatic sigh, crossing his arms, “No, no, I’m not mad at you. It’s okay.” 

“Okay,” she smiles, opening her arms for a hug which he obliges without question, “Gare’s sorry too, but unfortunately he’s busy babysitting Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum with Nance.”  Eddie looks down at you when he lets go of Tatianna, reaching his hand out to rub your back, “She means Robin and Steve.” 

“I figured,” you smile. Tatianna makes her exit and you’re both alone in the kitchen again. 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie offers, using the leverage of his hand on your back to pull you in close to him. 

“What, why? There’s nothing to be sorry for,” you furrow your brow, forearms leaning up the length of his chest. The opening bass of Dua Lipa’s One Kiss starts to thump from the soundsystem in the living room into the kitchen, along with Steve’s passionate This is my favorite fucking song, holy shit. 

“Everything got ruined,” he frowns, “I’m like, kind of embarrassed.” 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” you urge, pulling him a little closer to give him a reassuring kiss, “There’s always next time. I’m not goin’ anywhere.” 

“No?” he asks, leaning his forehead against yours, “You’re stayin’ right here?” 

“Well, until I have to go to home,” you shrug. The music gets a little louder and Eddie throws his disappointment to the wind. There is always next time. For now, he has you here in his kitchen, lips on yours, hands on your cheeks, the steady thump of the beat of his heart. And of course, Steve drunk crying to Robin in the living room – You’re literally my best fucking friend. You’re my best fucking friend Rob, I love you so much. 

Eddie giggles against your mouth at the sound, an ache caught in his chest. He really fucking likes you. 

[xazse]

the afab gojo x male reader is so good ! but i lowkey want gojo to get his lick back and make male reader jealous like i get it’s unrequited but i lowkey feel like mreader is attached to him a bit.

IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I REALLY WANTED TO GET THIS OUT TO YOU BOTH ON TIME SO I APOLOGIZE IF THIS IS RUSHED. SO HAPPY YOU LOVED MY AFAB<333 I HOPE YOU STILL LIKE AFAB GOJO!!

Idk about you but I feel like the best revenge is to slowly drive the other person insane.

Male!reader is a scumbag and might not align with you, like forreal scumbag!

Warnings: Fem!Satoru x Male Reader, Pussy-eating, sexting, jealous!reader, mean!reader, patheticmale!reader

Oh m!reader is most definitely in love with Satoru, that night When you were fucking Suguru he realized how much you would ramble on how much you hated Satoru’s guts and the only thing he’s good for is his body and pussy. But he seen the slight light in your eyes when you were describing him, by the end of the night Suguru just wanted to go home , he hadn’t even realized you were involved with Satoru so he felt like shit by the end as well, so ready to go home and tell Satoru to avoid you like the plague.

Satoru does eventually start to slowly distance himself from you, no longer is he blowing up your phone wondering where you are, he’s barely responding to your messages, and he most definitely stopped begging you to see him and look at him. He finds himself not entertaining your attempts to make him jealous or angry. He does work on himself, meaning he’s buying a new wardrobe and posting cute selfies, basically in your words auctioning himself off to other people.

You do notice the things he’s doing, ignoring you in favor of other people who aren’t even worth his time or yours. Two can play that game, Satoru is clearly going through something and needs a little convincing to get him back in the right mind, so you’ll give him the space he so clearly fucking needs, and it’s most definitely not gonna drive you crazy.

A week later your at a party, attempting to look for someone even as half as pretty as Satoru, he’s also present, so beautiful and a beaming smile gracing his face, he looks a little brighter, and it’s definitely not because of you. He’s with his usual group of friends, looking so dull compared to him. There’s a hand behind his back, seemingly going up and down in a soothing motion, you follow the hand and you scoff loudly from across the room.

A dude who looks plain and most definitely not Satoru’s type.

You see Satoru peek at the man and give him a kiss on the cheek whilst he whispers something in his ear, a giggle leaves his pretty pink lips before he’s departing somewhere. You’re quick to follow him outside to talk.

“What’s with you lately? Why are you avoiding me? And who’s that dude in there?” You pester Satoru with endless questions, not letting him even get a breath in.

“He’s someone I’m talking to right now, and why are you so worried?” Satoru glares, his eyebrows furrowed and yet you still find him to be so pretty when he’s frustrated.

“Not worried , just wondering why you aren’t picking up my calls.”

“Been busy, enjoy the party.” Satoru is quick to push through you and back to party, forgetting what he came in the kitchen for. He peers over his shoulder to see you standing there staring daggers at him with an expression he doesn’t recognize, oh you’re fucking pissed. It makes his body shiver and his cunt clench around nothing, he wants to see just how much he can push you.

One night while Satoru is alone in his room he does the unthinkable, he props his phone up and spreads himself wide in front of his camera, his pretty pussy on display, he grabs his favorite dildo and begins working it inside of himself, slow and steady is how he starts, he makes sure the video gets everything, every sound, every movement is captured. The dildo reaches so deep while it stretches his hole and makes him so wet, he’s heaving as he continues to abuse himself to completion. When that’s all done with he sends it to you, but he makes it look like it wasn’t for you, an accident is what he wants you to think.

A few hours later Satoru’s doorbell rings and to his amazement it’s you, looking a fucking mess, dressed like as soon as he sent the message you were out the door and on your way to his place. There’s a fiery but pathetic look in your eyes.

“Toru’ please” your voice sounds raw as you beg?

And a few minutes Satoru has you on your knees eating him out, you flatten your tongue and lick a stripe up his pussy, you’ve been wanting him for as long as he’s been torturing you, starving just to even touch him a little bit. You’re ravenous with your tongue work, licking up all his essence as it seeps out of him.

Satoru is rough with his hands, shoving your face even deeper so you can lick all the parts of him, he snaps at you to suck on his clit, and you listen like the obedient thing you’ve become, he’s moaning and mewling so cutely, you’ve missed his sweet honeyed voice, though he isn’t yelling your name you’ll take what you can get.

Your balls feel heavy when you unbuckle and pull your pants down to rest around your thighs. Fat cock already fully hard you begin stroking yourself slow and steady, precum already dripping you use that as lubricant. The burn in your body ignites, the combined sucking on Satoru’s clit and jerking your cock off feels so damn good, everything feels right, but also twisted.

[unfortunate17]

i agree with you about being frustrated with how often this fandom has top/bottom discussions but its a pretty common talking point in most fandoms so YR isn’t special for that

No I totally agree with you that it’s a common topic of discussion in a lot of fandoms, but there’s a particular way we have it in this fandom that really grinds my gears.

And don’t get me wrong, I don’t care if you hc Wilmon to be vers or if you think Wille tops or Simon tops or whatever - it’s the justification and reasoning that I’m seeing behind these headcanons that I find deeply irritating and, frankly, insulting and kind of homophobic.

This is going to get long so forgive me.

1. I’ve seen so many posts talk about how the show is “brave” and “subversive” by having Wille go down on Simon or potentially bottom, but like - what the hell are we even talking about? In what world is it subversive to show a queer character having queer sex?? What are we subverting?? This show has never shown us anything with its intimate scenes other than two guys that are deeply in love and really horny for eachother and I hate that we keep bringing this shit up!!!

2. I’ve also seen people say that it was very important for us to see Wille moving to go down on Simon in the tape in S1 because it’s “more damning evidence that he’s queer” and otherwise Wille could’ve just said he was horny and desperate but he was actually imagining he was with a girl in his denial statement. But be so fucking forreal, in what world is that a thing he could argue in an official statement to the press? He’d be the laughing stock of the world.

Wilhelm isn’t more or less gay because he went down on Simon vs the other way around. He’d still be having queer sex because he’s having sex with another guy. Arguing that the framing here is for anything other than a plot device so Wille’s face wouldn’t be visible to set up the denial is actually kind of ridiculous.

As someone very smart on here said, “I’m sorry that you apparently have a tier list of sex acts ranging from “kinda straight” to “Gaylord” 😭😭 get well soon, couldn’t be me.”

Imagine for one second Simon was the one giving Wille head? Would you have criticized the show for that?? And WHY?!

3. Next: saying that Wilmon’s relationship is “equal” because you think they’re vers is…a take and a half lmao. What the fuck does being vers have to do with a relationship being equal?? Why are we assigning arbitrary hierarchies to sexual preferences??? Why are we implying that topping and bottoming are somehow not equal and you have to carefully balance both, when, ideally, it’s just whatever the fuck everyone is into???

Wille isn’t selfish for topping. Simon isn’t sacrificing anything by bottoming. They’re fucking because they’re in love and they want to 😭

TLDR: Wille doesn’t suck Simon’s dick for class liberation. Simon riding Wille isn’t a commentary on how he’s “girl-coded.” It’s just sex, leave them alone to have a good time and stop assigning agendas to queer sex.

[dollfaceksj]

my cal 17 prediction : after the question yoongi will be like ???? and confusion + miscommunication = long awaited kiss <3 but i think im choosing to be delusional

hm… short update but some important info!!

can’t afford love | myg (m) #17

⋆ TAGLIST ⋆

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WHAT DO YOU DO?

“Is Yuna the person you slept with?” — 83,4%

SAY NOTHING — 16,6%

319 votes

you chose:

“Is Yuna the person you slept with?”

↓

“is yuna the person you slept with?”

the question catches him off guard, that much you can tell

he glances over his shoulder at you, dropping the shirt he was folding

“what?”

ouuu

the ‘what?’ sounded

hmm..

confused? annoyed? weirded out? you’re not sure

you fight the urge to roll your eyes. you know he heard you

“did you sleep with yuna?” you ask, sliding your jacket back onto your arms

he blinks a few times

drags his gaze down your body and back up to your face

“and why does that matter?”

ah..

dodging the question?

“it doesn’t. can’t a gal be curious?”

he shrugs. “you worded it weirdly.”

girl what😭

he’s so infuriating

you frown in annoyance. “what do you mean?”

he shrugs again. so fucking nonchalant. “you just worded it weirdly.”

you fight the urge to groan loudly. “when you asked me if i’d been with anyone, i said no. i asked you the same and you didn’t answer. clearly that means you have. i was wondering if the person in question was yuna.”

he stares at you for a moment longer before chuckling and shaking his head

he stares at the wall for a moment, tongue rolling against the inside of his cheek

he raises to his feet

walks up to you

puts his hands on his hips

can he STOP getting into your proximity like this omg..

you fight the urge to reach out and hold his arms

squeeze his biceps

pull him closer

STOP THINKING ABOUT IT.

he slightly shakes his head and tilts it to the side whilst he stares you down, his long black hair messy and beautiful. “what makes you think i fucked her?”

you shrug. “she was staring at us the entire time yesterday. figured she must’ve been jealous.”

he tilts his head to the side. “jealous? well, i suppose she was.”

huh??

so

?

they did fuck?

“she was?”

damn. u didn’t think he’d confirm it just like that

“hm,” he hums in confirmation. “but probably jealous of me. not you.”

at this, you frown

why would she be jealous of him?

“huh?”

he rolls his eyes as if you should know what you mean

“yuna’s gay, einstein. thought you were really pretty. said i was a bastard for letting you go or something like that.”

oh.

OH.

“oh,” you breathe out

she thought you were pretty?

oh

she was also really pretty.

:))

but

if she didn’t sleep with yoongi

that means there’s still someone else out there who has

“so then,” you start, scratching the back of your head. “you didn’t have sex with her.”

he bitterly chuckles

“no.”

you slowly nod your head

okay

OKAY.

he starts, “but why do you care? i mean–”

you cut him off. “the exact same reason that made you ask me that question in the first place, you dickhead.”

ouuuu

smack cam

like is he serious?

why did HE ask it in the first place!!

he licks his lips. crosses his arms. “i’ll be honest since you can’t be.” he takes a step forward, closing the gap between you two.

his breath fans down on your face

makes you look up at him

your eyes big and doe-like exactly how he likes them.

he says, “i asked because i can’t fucking stand the thought of anyone else touching you. happy?”

ah

there it is

it was pretty obvious to begin with but you’re satisfied to hear it now

“since you wanna be so honest,” you begin, “why don’t you go ahead and tell me who the hell you fucked?”

he squints his eyes at you

drops his eyes down to your lips

then back up to your eyes before he shrugs

“i don’t remember.”

???

does he think he’s being funny

“what?”

“i don’t remember.”

what the fuck??

oh he’s about to piss you off forreal

“what do you mean, you don’t remember?”

he sighs in exasperation. “that i don’t fucking remember who i slept with, y/n. jesus.”

you angrily frown at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “how the hell did that happen?”

his lips twitch and so do his eyebrows

he does this when he’s mad

or annoyed

or both

“you wanna know how that fucking happened?” he doesn’t let you answer as he wraps his hand around your bicep and pushes you flat against the wall

you were already close to the wall but now you’re caged

his body keeping you trapped against the wall

seems like he’s still doubting whether to tell you

seems like its on the tip of his tongue

seems like your eyes simply break his resolve.

“it happened after the divorce was finalized.”

ah fuck

he’s telling you

are you even ready to hear this?

well, you asked for it

“i cried my fucking heart out. what the hell was i supposed to do? the love of my life wanted nothing to do with me anymore. i drank for months. i drank so fucking much that i’d pass out in my own vomit.”

oh

you remember seokjin and jimin talking about how bad yoongi was taking the divorce but so were you

you were in your own world of pain

but the thought of yoongi crying, drinking until he vomits and passes out in his own puke is gut wrenching

you brows furrow together as you stare up at him

his voice sounds so angry yet delicate

like it’ll break any moment

and the look on his face

is heartbreaking

“so, when the boys told me to go out with them for the first time in years, i didn’t decline. i literally don’t even remember that night. woke up in some random lady’s bed. condom still on my dick and i didn’t even fucking cum cause there were no traces anywhere. i left immediately. that what you wanna fucking hear? i don’t know her name or what she looks like. just know that she sort of looked like you.”

oh

wow

okay

silence.

complete

and utter

silence

your nose starts heating up

eyes start tearing

fuck

your bottom lips starts to quiver as you try to swallow your sobs

he lets go of you

and you both just

stare. in silence.

his feline eyes are so intense. it’s like it’s the only thing you can see in this moment

you part your lips to say something

anything

but nothing comes out

and just on cue

there’s a sound ripping through the room

his intense eyes tear away from you when he hears the sound of his babyphone

it’s jun

he sighs and shakes his head

runs his hand through his hair

whilst you stand there trying to process this information, yoongi slides his bathrobe on and leaves to go check on jun

it’s quiet in his room

cold

lonely

you wonder how many times he was in this room and just cried over you

over losing you

but

by the time he comes back to his room

you’re nowhere to be found

to be continued.

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— enjoyed it? you can always show your appreciation by buying me some coffee if you want ☕︎♡

@pamzn @jknoah @ahgasegotarmy116 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @Teddytaee @pnkmyg @yoongallery @agustdswifey @purp13st4r @busanstarkoo @busanboykoo @kookssecret @p34rluv @xumyboo @jojowantstocry @minjenna @codeinebelle @Futuristiclovedreamland @rirushu @taegicity @namgihours @ultminyoongi @swinterr @butterymin @partyparty-yah @bettybloop @secfir @coffeedepressionsoup @keroppitae @manuosorioh @whoa-jo @etaerealboyv @kaiparkerwifes @Luvjiminandyoongi @luvbeomkai @petalsofink @paradiseyoongies @gaby-93 @MMFranklin @llallaaa @vickyyy97 @osakis-gf @luna-astro-star @shabbamadapot @rrrapmonste-rr @jjeonjennie @yoongisducky @s3l3n0phil3 @Itsmina29 @namjoonsbuspass @hoseokshobagi @laurenrodr @keshiadeija @acquiescence804 @swga-ficrecs @sato-hana02 @honsoolhour @kimseokgen @Imene1609 @joonsmagicshop @yunki-yunki-yunki @ellesalazar @casual-death @minyoongiswife0293

[boujiestpoet]

Oh...that's not

Summary: Lando starts dropping cryptic love messages in his instagram, getting fans excited until they discover who he is talking about, and he HARD luanches his new (not really new tho) girl.

Face Claim: THE ONE AND ONLY RYAN DESTINY

tw: racism (miscroagressions, taking inspiration by some types of fans when their white boy of the months starts dating a girl with a little bit of melanin)

THIS IS A REMINDER: THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION I DON'T KNOW NONE OF THESE PEOPLE, AND THIS WORK DO NOT REPRESENT WHO THEY ARE

Next Chapter

landonorris

💬❤��liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and 800,000

landonorris: Feeling butterflies in my stomach

view comments.....

username1: OMG

username25: Lando who wrote this

oscarpiastri Did you wrote that yourself mate?

↳ landonorris: you love to ruin moments?😂

↳ maxverstappen1 : obviously he didn't write it, we can read it so easily

↳ landonorris: 🙄

username809: He came to post something cute and got roasted instead

Amara_thepoet

💬❤️liked by landonorris,ayoedibiri and 700,00

Amara_thepoet: Is official, I am officially in love

view comments.....

Ayoedibiri: wow and I thought you were a raging homosexual

↳ Amara_thepoet: Point of correction I'm a raging pansexual, get it right

↳ Ayoedibiri: Sorry queen 😞

amaran1fan: So you are receiving pasta and lobsta

↳ Amara_thepoet: More like Sunday Roast and Shepard's Pie

username31: oh she's dating a British guy

sam💖: Wait....does that mean that that's her first boyfriend, she always said she was never in a relationship🤔

F1 news

liked by username31 and other 50,00

F1: Lando got spotted in London underground with an unknown face, holding hands, who is she? Are they in a relationship

View comments.......

msnorris120: Not our boy Lando

username67: She is familiar.....OH MY GOD @charlesleclercboo IS THAT

↳ charleleclercboo: Omo is that our Nigerian sis

f1stan: OH my god Lando is dating a Sista?

username200: They look like bestie

↳ mrsnorris: Yes they look like platonic soulmates

↳ IUismywife: Be fucking forreal I never saw platonic soulmates staring at each other lips

username12: She is pretty, but is not who I imagined Lando to date

↳ f1stan: who were you expecting Lando to date?

↳ charlelerclecboo: you know damn well they will not answer

Username2024: Not people showing their true colors over a damn dating rumor😮‍💨

Hello so this is my first post in this account, please tell if there are grammatical mistakes, English is not my first language. I'm always eager to learn.

Taglist: @dutifullyannoyingfox

[madamechrissy]

Dirty Little Secret

ꕥ Pairings: Toji Fushiguro x Fem Reader

ꕥ Warnings- MDNI-explicit sexual content, dirty talk, Toji calls reader 'doll, ma, slut (Toji and Doll just work lol) Age gap- reader is 21, Toji is 39. - Soft Toji!! This chapter-mostly just fluffy cuteness, some oral and pregnant sex

ꕥ Word Count- this chap- 5k

ꕥ Summary- Toji Fushiguro is your dad Shiu's best friend for years. You've known him most your life. You come home for spring break to relax, and who pops up at the fucking doorstep? Toji. He's nasty, annoying, perverted and... Sexy. Hot. Built. And makes you think, maybe your first time shouldn't be with some college boy? But with this buff dude who can tie a cherry stem with his tongue and a scar on his damn lip.

Chapter 12 - Masterlist - Playlist

Chapter 13

Three months later

About six months along

You stare at yourself in the mirror, grimacing as you touch your tummy, tracing three long silvery stretch marks, turning this way and that, you’re getting big already, just your tummy and nothing else really, aside from a fullness to your breasts. Breasts your annoying fiance constantly wants to grab, touch and suck on, you are dressed in a tank top and Toji’s sweats, your new favorite things.

“Doll, you’re taking forever, you good? Sick or anything?” Toji asks from outside the bathroom door, and you sigh, stepping out and frowning. His eyes immediately go to your tummy, his big hands on it, as he leans down and kisses you. “Fuck you look so sexy.”

“Toji I look like a fucking watermelon! A blob! And look.” You point then, feeling tears in your eyes at your stretch marks, and Toji scoffs, leaning down on his knees now, looking up at you and kissing your tummy. “No, it’s-”

“Beautiful, doll. Look at you.” He’s kissing up your stretch marks, as you brush back his hair, all sweaty from his workout, sticking to his tanned forehead.

“No, you’re an Insta Baddie and I’m a whale.” He snorts then, you watched Toji post another picture and get another 10k likes, fuck he’s bad at pictures too, imagine if these women saw him forreal?

You both had been on several dates and women were thirsty for him, but Toji only has eyes for you, and you don’t get it, because your fingers are swelling and your tummy is so big. He’s more on you than ever, if that’s possible, constantly trying to touch you, suck on your nipples, trying to get you to ride him, but you’re so insecure as you get further along.

“You’re sexy as fuck. Keep talking shit about yourself and I’ll not let you cum tonight.” You tremble a bit, because fuck you’re always horny.

“Mmm, we have Megs, Yuji and Nobara coming for dinner, you know. You need to help me find something pretty.”

He chuckles as he stands, big hands still on your tummy. “Doll, I sure ain’t picking outfits, got me soft enough like a lil bitch.”

“Oh please!” You pout, and he scowls, dark green eyes narrowing.

“Nah, ya got enough clothes, brat. Go pick em or greet em in this.” He grins, yanking on your sweatpants (his sweats!?) 

“Ugh, no! Fine, mean old man. Ow!” Toji pinches your nipples then, sensitive as fuck, making you gasp. “Dick! Let go!”

“Don’t like your attitude.”

“Don’t like yours!”

“Baby got you so angry, swear to god.”

“You wanted one!”

“Yes I do!” He’s cupping your face then, slamming his lips down, and you feel yourself get so wet, moaning as he grabs you so tight, until he feels the baby kick his torso, and he looks down, laughing so soft, a beautiful grin on his stern face. “Oh my god… well hello baby.”

You giggle then, unable to keep an attitude when your baby kicks once more, now on Toji’s big palm. “She’s angry with you, Toji.”

“She’s gonna be a brat like you.” You just grin, as she does a somersault inside you, and kicks your rib, making you wince. “See?”

“Fuck you, Toji.”

“Fuck me huh?” He scowls again, done with your attitude quite clearly, and turns you, bending you over the kitchen table, sliding down your sweats and smacking your backside.

“Ow!” You bite your lip, thighs shifting as the movement makes you so wet, and Toji smirks at you as you look back. “Gonna smack your pregnant wife!?”

“Fuck yeah I am. Look how big that ass is getting-”

“Hey fuck you! Ah!”

“I like it, lemme enjoy. Mm, these handprints.” Toji smacks you gently, it stings a bit but nothing like he’d do before you started showing more. He acts ‘rough’ but he really takes it too easy, too worried to hurt the baby. “So slutty, you like it huh Ma?”

“Mmm, shut up. Ngh!” Toji smacks your pussy, making you spread your thighs for more, praying your baby will stop kicking, and she finally does, so you can focus on how good it feels as he runs a rough finger through your folds.

“Be a good girl and I’ll fuck you. Be bad and you can just get licked everywhere but that clit.”

“Mmm, I’ll be good!” You whine, Toji has been loving to lick your pussy all over, avoiding your clit to torture you when you’re bad, until he has you a damn mess. “Toji, can’t stand like this long…”

“Oh shit, c’mon.” He slides up your sweats now, picking you up with ease still, and you’re kissing his hot, firm lips, so hungry for him. He’s got you on the bed now, sitting on the edge, kneeling between your legs. “How ya wanna do it, doll? I never know what’s good, you’re so bitchy so much.”

“Mmm… I’m sorry.” You blink back tears and he frowns.

“Don’t say sorry and shit. I knew you’d be the bitchiest pregnant girl, and I still fuckin did it.” You giggle now, and he sighs. “Fuck these mood swings.”

“Ugh I know! Don’t know if I’m sad, horny, hungry or happy.” He kisses your thighs over your sweats, hands rubbing your tummy.

“I know what ya are, doll.”

“Hmm, what’s that?” You whisper, caressing his strong jawline. He kisses your palm then kisses your belly button.

“Gorgeous as fuck. That’s what. Prettiest brat there is.” Your lips are trembling now, as you sniffle, then you yank him up by his broad shoulders.

“I fucking love you, Toji” He’s kissing you as he’s standing, bent at the waist, as you lean back and he’s caressing your breasts with his big hands.

“I love you, mean little brat. Gonna give me a heart attack.”

“Take baby aspirin, old man. Fuck!” He pinches your nipple with a scowl, and you grin up at him then. “You’re the most handsome man there is, Toji, I swear to god. I’ll never, ever want anyone but you.”

He blinks at your sincerity, moaning and slipping his hand down your sweats, rubbing your clit, soaked already, as he studies you, pulling your hair gently at the base of your neck. “I’ll never want anyone, how could I? Look at you, fuck you’re so wet f’me too ain’t ya baby?”

“Always, always.” You whisper, then you’re grinding on his hand as two fingers slide in.

“You’re so wet doll, oh my god.” He moans, playing with you, and you hear it, the sounds of that lewd squishing in the room.

“Want you, please Toji.” You plead now, and he’s letting you undress him, as you eagerly take him in your mouth, lapping up the salty precum at his tip, letting it coat your mouth now. He’s huffing, his abs flexing as his hips thrust, not fully, Toji is so careful even though his hands are shaking.

Your eyes look up at him, and he looks down with his lidded gaze, his teeth bared just so, and you suck him harder, lashes low over your dazed eyes. “You’re such a good girl f’me, for once huh?”

“Just once.” You tease, flicking your tongue and stroking him, before he’s slipping down your top, moaning at your breasts, so full and bouncy, and you pull his cock closer, nodding, letting him stroke his cock between them.

“Holy… oh my… look at ‘em. Look at em s’pretty.” He’s a mess now, as you hold your jiggly tits together for him, as he’s fucking his thick, veiny cock between them, hands sliding down the sides of them, making you shiver. “Lemme eat you, please.”

“I can’t see you though!” You pout, and he laughs, breathless.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t see your pretty pussy. Don’t deny a man his meal, damn brat.”

“Oh fine but I miss looking at you!” He pulls you by your now bare thighs, diving down as you lay back on the bed, legs dangling over the edge and on his strong shoulders, feeling his muscles tense as he lavishes you with his tongue, and fuck it feels so good, you’re screaming out. “T-Toji!”

He’s smiling against you, you can’t see his damn eyes, all you see is your huge tits and tummy, your eyes closing as you try to reach down, but he takes a hand and holds your wrist, squeezing and giving you just enough roughness. You’re whimpering as he’s drinking you up, fuck you hear him sucking your wetness, exhaling and moaning on you.

“It tastes even better.” He whispers, sliding a thick digit in your soppy little cunt, which sucks it in, as he watches it disappear so pretty between those puffy lips. He’s sucking your clit into his mouth now, lavishing the tiny pearl with his tongue as he vibrates it by groaning.

“Toji!” You scream out, thighs threatening to close, but he sucks right through it, as you cum so messy all over his face and his hand, gushing liquid, you feel it hot and wet down your ass now. “Oh my god.”

“Would think your water broke, cum so much, lil slut.” You gasp, but he’s leaned up and now you see that handsome, rugged face you love, and it’s half covered in your slick.

“Get in there, please, jerk!” He is rubbing the tip of his cock between your folds now, leaning just a bit over you, as you swipe back his inky black locks, and he pushes in  so easy. You’re whining at the stretch, and you can’t stop it, you cum again when he’s hitting that cervix, and he grins.

“So easy, brat- oh fuck, stop tightening up!” He’s tense over you, and you grin as you get him back, and you feel him so good, you moan, cumming still, getting him so wet he’s slippery, even as tight as you are. “Oh my… you better not….”

“Gonna bust fast old man?” He gently smacks your face as you giggle.

“I will beat this ass when you’re ready again. Fuck you so hard.” He says, putting just enough pressure now in your pussy, as he’s so careful to keep any weight off your tummy, and you cling to him, around his neck, biting your lip and cheeks flushing. He sighs then, pausing.

“Wh-what? I’ll loosen up. Don’t stop.” You whine, rolling your hips up, and he shakes his head, brushing your hair back gently, then his thumb brushes a rounding cheek.

“Nah, just beautiful is all.” You feel those tears back, slamming his lips to yours as he fucks into you, steady and slow and so good, until you’re both falling apart, and he’s pulsing inside of you, as you’re throbbing from your aftershocks. “Gonna fill you up s’good, doll.”

“Fill me up, please Daddy.” At that Toji cums, and he cums hard, those ribbons of that white cum soaking into your walls, coating them, as he slows, kissing your face, your breasts, hands rubbing your tummy.

“You’re so sexy, fuck, doll. Like this?” He’s eased out now, kissing your tummy, and you exhale, trembling and trying to come to, nothing about sex with Toji was anything but mind blowing.

“I love you so much.” You say softly, as he melts your insecurities away, this gruff man with his nasty ass jokes and lewd looks, he makes you feel so beautiful even when you’re so down. There is no being down when you’re with Toji Fushiguro, he will never let you be.

“I love you, lil Mama.” You smile against his lips as he eases you up, and then he’s gone for a moment, back with a washcloth, cleaning you up.

“Does it bother you, the… um hair? It annoys me.” You grumble, and he smirks, shaking his head.

“Kinda like it, doll. Do you not?”

“No I don’t. But I can’t see it or reach it!”

“Need me to shave ya?”

“Please.” He sighs.

“I think it’s cute.” He’s rubbing the hair you can't see on your mound. “But whatever ya want, brat.”

“Yay!”

******

You are sitting at dinner now, that you and Toji had cooked together, and Megumi pulls out a seat next to him for you, patting it. You sit down gratefully, leaning your head on his shoulder for a moment, and catch Toji’s soft smile as Megumi touches your tummy, and gasps when he feels it, the bump of your baby girl saying hello, his usually serious features softened.

“Oh my god… It's doing that now!?” You giggle, nodding as you take his hand, pressing it a little higher on your bump.

“You haven’t seen me in like two months, it was hard to tell then. Now she’s vicious, I swear.” Megumi smiles just a bit, dark lashes lowering as he looks at your tummy in your pretty white sundress.

You remember when he found out.

3 months ago

“You’re what!? Dad I swear to god, the fuck!” Megumi was furious as you both had told him, inviting him to Toji’s home right after leaving Shiu.

“Kid…”

“Don’t kid me. She’s my age. I wouldn’t want a brat, tch.” He pouts and looks at you seriously. “You can’t want a kid yet.”

“Megs, I do… I am really happy. I know it’s weird, but I want this.” You look at him now, and he frowns, looking at his dad again, then you, rolling his eyes.

“God, don’t do that puppy dog eye thing.”

Toji chuckles. “She gets everything that way.”

“Bet she does.” Megumi rolls those dark green eyes, and you keep pouting, eyes wide, until he sighs, touching your still flat tummy. “Do you really want a baby?”

“I do, and I promise I’ll be the best mom.” You touch his hand over yours, and he smiles just a bit finally as he looks down. “You’ll have a little sister or brother!”

“That sounds annoying. A stupid kid, ugh.”

“Hey!” You poke at him now, and he smirks. “You’re such a little shit, Megs!”

“He gets that from me.” Toji ruffles Megumi’s perfect spikes, and he smacks his hand away, grimacing in disgust, but he’s still touching your tummy, his black brows drawing together.

“Hmm. If you’re happy?”

“I am Megs.”

“The fuck, about me kid?” Toji says, standing and crossing his thick, banded biceps, and Megumi snorts.

“Again, if you’re happy.” He says to you, making you grin as Toji fumes.

“How does my kid like you better than me?” He grumbles, and you stick your tongue out, as Megumi’s long fingers slip off your tummy.

“Everyone likes me better, Old man.” Megumi grins at that, and Toji loses his shit, but Megumi is looking at you contemplatively. “What is it, Megs?”

“You look so happy. Glowing.” You blush now.

“I am happy, I really am.”

“Then… fuck it. I guess I’m gonna be a big brother.”

“Yay!” You smack a kiss on his cheek, and Toji smiles at the two of you, devious fucking smile, that makes you both look at him, wide eyed.

“And you’re gonna have a stepmom.”

“Yuck!”

Present- Toji’s POV

Things absolutely changed that day, now Megumi is so sweet, as Yuji and Nobara take turns feeling your tummy, and Toji is making everyone plates, stealing glances at his pretty fiance. One he can’t wait to make his wife, but you’re waiting until after the baby for that, you do have a pretty little diamond ring on your finger that glints in those lights now.

He watches his son laugh next to you, as you carry his daughter, and fuck if you don’t make him a sappy ‘old man’ damn brat that you are. As you’re all flushed and beautiful, glowing so bright, your eyes sparkling as you talk to your best friends. Fuck he’s a lucky man, you’re a goddess to him, you always were, but now you’ve got that tummy, those curves, in that pretty white dress?

You look like Venus herself.

He would probably just call you a sexy lil doll, but he does think you’re his goddess, damn you make him corny. If someone told Toji Fushiguro he’d be such a sap he would never believe it. Megumi feels the baby kick again, and Toji’s heart finally feels full, this void he’d had for so long since he had Megumi was filled, he was so lucky the kid wants to have him in his life.

He’s so lucky he has you three, you, Megs and the baby, even your friends who drive him insane, he just wants you happy. And as you peek at him, sipping on some sparkling water, and you look at him with such love in your pretty eyes, that brilliant smile, it’s like you’re clenching his heart with your tiny little hand.

How was Toji ever lucky enough to have you, and to have a family like this? After fucking up so much, after being just a bum for so long, how has Toji finally got his shit together, finally got a fiance. A beautiful one, a sweet one (lets be real, you’re kind of mean as fuck and bitchy, but Toji loves that) sweet when you want dick, but how’d he even get lucky enough for that?

He peeks and sees Shiu has texted him, and smiles a bit at the phone as he’s grabbing more drinks for everyone. Shiu still hates Toji, and Toji doesn't blame him, but he’s a good damn dad, better than Toji was with Megs. He hopes he can be that good of a dad to your baby, he damn well will try.

He’s picturing a pretty little daughter now, and he can’t stop the stupid smile on his face.

*****

3 months later- Labor day

“Toji Fushiguro, I hate you and your big ass head! Ow fuck!” You scream, holding his hand so tight he’s wincing, scowling right back at you.

“You got the big ass head, blame your damn dad!”

“Excuse me!?” Shiu shouts, looking up from where he has his face covered, terrified as your contractions get quicker. “You got a big ass head Toji!”

“Fuck yes he does. Ugh! You suck so bad I can’t do this!” You’re sobbing at the pain, and Megumi stands then, shaking his head.

“Can’t do it. Dad, be supportive, fuck. Shiu, c’mon… coffee?” Megumi suggests, and Shiu jumps up immediately.

“Cocaine maybe, fuck.”

“Dad!” You scowl and he grimaces.

“You’re scary kiddo. You deserve her to break your hand, Toji.” Shiu says then, and they run out, leaving you with your mean, big headed fiance.

“Brat too tiny can’t have a kid right?”

“Fuck you I can!”

“Mmm, sure you can.”

“Toji I’ll never have one again, I swear ugh!” You squeeze his hand again, screaming out, as the doctors rush in, and they take your vitals.

“She’s not dilating, we can’t keep going much longer, it's been ten hours.” The doctor says, and Toji frowns then, holding your hand tightly.

“Shit.”

“Shit, shit what!?”

“C section, Megs was one too.”

“Because your big ass head, oh fuck you!” He scowls.

“You’re a damn brat!”

“You’re a dick, old man!”

“Ahem. We can give it a little longer, but we really need to get you prepped in case. We can up the pitocin and try that if you want? What’s best for you mom?” They ask you then, and you are glaring right at him, as he is you, then his face changes, as he holds your tummy, and kisses you, right in front of blushing nurses and that doctor, sighing against your lips.

“Scared, Toji.” You admit, and he nods then, head resting on yours, as you feel your heart race.

“It’ll be fine, doll. I got you. Right here with you, yeah?”

You kiss him back, hands entangling in his hair, so messy from how much he’d been messing with it. “Right here with me.”

******

“Oh my god! I’m a grandpa!” Shiu is holding your beautiful little girl later on, as you’re a sweaty, exhausted mess, having this baby was not easy, thanks to Toji’s big ass head, you’d had a lot of trouble, but she was here, no c section thank goodness, and perfect. And you were safe and sound. Your heart aches as you see your dad smiling so big.

“She’s beautiful.” You whisper, as Toji sits next to you in the bed, holding up water for you to sip, smiling softly.

“You did so good, doll. She’s beautiful just like you.” He whispers, kissing your sweaty forehead, and you smile tremulously, as you sip the icy water, sighing.

“She has your eyes, Toji.” You say then, as now Megumi holds his little sister, and you watch the usually serious Megumi melt as he looks at her.

“She’s so beautiful. Hey little sis.” Megumi cooes softly, and you melt even more, as Toji is stroking your hair back, sighing.

“I’m so fuckin happy.” He murmurs in your ear, and you touch his face gently, smiling up at him, eyes glimmering with tears. “Ya made me so happy, doll, I don’t know how to even describe it. Heart… fucking hurts.”

“Aw, you’re such a sap, old man.” You tease, and he narrows his eyes, but you peck a weak kiss on his stubbled chin. “I’m kidding. Toji I couldn’t be happier.”

Megumi hands Toji your baby girl again, and he grins so big, as she grabs one of his big fingers with her tiny little fist. The sight of your beautiful little girl in Toji’s big arms makes you wanna have another damn baby, even after all this, even after being uncomfortable this last month and having a hard time. You’d give this man anything, when you watch him light up.

He gently hands you her, your sweet little baby Mio. She opens those dark green eyes, just like Megs and Toji, but she has your hair color, and your nose, you’re tapping her nose gently, watching her little mouth form into an O, and you smile softly as your heart swells. You have never felt this, this love, you love Toji so much but this is so different, it fills you with so much emotion you feel them spilling over through your eyes, tears falling down your cheeks.

“I love you, little Mio. So, much. I’m your mommy!” You whisper, sitting up with Toji’s help further, as she blinks those beautiful eyes, and you put her forehead to your lips, inhaling her. “She smells so good!?”

“The baby smell.” Toji and Shiu say, and you smile at them both, as your dad comes and kisses the top of your head, then bends down and kisses Mio’s downy little head.

“Do you all still remember that? In like the fifties?” Megumi says, earning your giggle and their scowl.

“Brats.” Toji grumbles.

“Brats.” Shiu agrees, then taps Mio’s nose, and yours. “Look, that’s your nose alright, isn’t it? She’s so pretty like you.”

“Aw thank you dad, she’s even more beautiful.” You all coo over her, and soon Megumi and Shiu eventually leave, after saying their goodbyes. It’s you with Toji in the quiet room, holding your baby. You’re so tired, but so happy, your heart so full as you feel this contentment and excitement, as Toji is holding you to his side.

“Hi, sweetie, it’s your dad. Welcome to the world, little one.” You’re crying again, at how sweet he is. “Kept us waiting, had to make an entrance, huh?”

“Dramatic like me.” You giggle, and he grins, and you start to feel exhaustion hit, sighing as you lean into his side.

“You’re gonna be the best dad any little baby could have, you know.” Toji blinks a bit then, looking away, you watch that Adam’s apple bob as he gulps.

“I’m gonna do everything to try.”

“I know you will, I’m so happy you’re her dad.”

“You’re her mommy. And you’ll be the best. I love you, doll, fuck you’ve made me so happy.” He whispers, and you kiss him, as your baby begins to let out a cute little cry, then it gets loud, and you laugh a bit. “She’s gonna be so bratty, I’m screwed.”

“So screwed.” You agree, grinning, as Toji helps you pull your breast out, and he exhales, as you hiss a bit when you see the milk drops. “Ugh, feel like a cow!”

“It’s beautiful, doll. Don’t.” He says gruffly, and then he helps put your baby's little mouth on your nipple. She struggles to latch, her little fists punching you practically, with sharp nails. Toji chuckles. “She’s vicious, isn’t she?”

“Jesus, guess that’s what happens with us as parents. Ow! Mio!” You’re huffing, wriggling with discomfort as her gums bite down, then finally she latches, and sucks, her puffy cheeks moving as she drinks. Finally you ease, exhaling. “She’s got it!”

“She’s a pro, too. Ya alright doll?” He asks, brow furrowing, and you nod then, letting him kiss your temple as your little girl eats.

“It feels so weird, but I’m good. It will take practice, the nurse said.”

“You’ll do great, already know it. Gonna be the best at this parenting shit, both of us, won’t we?” He nudges you with a grin, and you feel yourself getting so sleepy, feeling such warmth. You nod.

“We will do such a good job. I know it. She’s everything now.” You caress her cheek again, love bursting from every part of you.

“You’re both everything to me.” He corrects, and then sighs. “And Megs, of course, he was so happy wasn’t he?”

“He was oh my god! I knew it.”

“We’ll have him watch the kid so we can go fuck-”

“Toji!” You gasp, and he just grins shameless and lewd. “Knew you were being too nice, old perv.”

“Old, knocked you the fuck up. Should do it again.”

“Fuck no!” You stick your tongue out, as your baby now is asleep, no longer sucking, and you smile at her little face, a pretty gummy smile “Oh my god!”

“She’s milk drunk. Megs got like this.” You giggle then, looking up at him, seeing his dark green eyes, the same color as your daughter’s eyes, so lit up.

“Was Megumi a serious kid?”

“I didn’t know him well enough.” He frowns, and you sigh.

“I’m sorry-”

“Nah, doll, it’s okay. I’ll know everything about her, little Mio, I swear. I’ll never leave your side.” His words break your heart into pieces, you hear the pain in his voice as he takes his daughter in his arms.

“Toji you will do great. I know it.” You say softly, and he nods, as you wipe a tear, making him scowl.

“Ain’t crying.”

“Oh no, saw nothing.” He snorts, and you smile, as emotions run through you. “I love you, Toji.”

“I love you too, doll. So much.” He kisses your forehead, and then your baby’s head, and you lean into his side, watching him, feeling so content, as he whispers sweet nothings into her ear, and you’re so tired now you can’t keep awake.

“I’m gonna nap, okay?” You mumble, and he nods, easing off the bed.

“Yeah, sleep, I got her, doll. She’s okay.” And you doze off, feeling safe, feeling loved, feeling complete.

*****

When you wake up, you’re surprised to find it’s night, and the room is dimly lit, just the moon coming through the window, and the hospital lights are all off aside from a little one around your bed, casting a soft glow over everything. Toji’s still there, sitting in a chair beside the bed, holding your sleeping baby, looking down at her with a soft, loving smile on his face.

You sit up and he looks over at you, eyes tired but so, so happy.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just tired. Did I miss anything?” You ask nervously, and he chuckles, shaking his head.

“Nothin’. She’s just been sleeping like a rock. Like you, lazy little thing.” He smirks, and you grin at his words, watching as he adjusts her in his arms.

“Am not lazy, just had your baby!”

“Mmm, you were snoring though.”

“Was not!” He grins, and places your baby down in the little bassinet now, all swaddled up. “Come here.” You whisper, and he stands, stretching his long limbs and then he’s leaning down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, as you kiss back, feeling that warmth spread through your body.

Toji sits in the bed, laying on his side, pulling you to him, eyes drinking you in. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, doll. You’re a mommy now.” He whispers, stroking your messy hair, and you snuggle to him, his hard, warm body, where you feel so safe, as he strokes your back up and down in the little hospital bed.

“Thank you, for everything. For being here with me, for being with me. Toji I can never imagine being without you.” You say then, and he exhales, gulping, his eyes lidded and tired like yours.

“Where else would I be, doll, but right here?” He kisses you again, and you hold onto him, feeling the love in his arms, so strong and safe, as you feel this is exactly where you’re supposed to be. Toji slips a hand to your breast then, and you squeak, earning his chuckle. “What, they’re hot.”

“You perv, I just had a baby!” You whisper, and he grins then, kissing down the side of your neck. “I feel gross!”

“Nah, you’re always sexy, even now. Enjoy that break you get for what, a couple weeks?” He nips your throat, and you gasp at it. How can he be such a hornball, damn old man.

“Like a month, fuck don’t do that.” He is kissing your neck again where he’d just bit, pulling back and smirking down at you, tiling your chin up and cupping your cheeks now.

“Enjoy that break, gonna knock ya up again.” You smack at him and he’s just grinning, white teeth stark against dark stubble.

“Will not, gonna tie those tubes.”

“Better not, brat.”

“Mmhmm! Now shut up, and lemme sleep. Snuggle me?” He smiles softer now, nodding and holding you tight against him, as your arms wrap his torso, and you feel sleep tugging at you again.

“Love you, lil doll.” He whispers against your hair.

“Love you, Toji.”

Final Chap Here

Kofi Link if you wanna buy me a coffee <3

ao3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/57496135/chapters/153013882

[zeltqz]

𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 [𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐃] SEVEN

pairing. ex!ran x fem!reader

word count. 9.6k

series synopsis. bonten is forming and in the midst of it all, you find yourself caught in the sticky webs of your ex boyfriend and current bonten executive, haitani ran.

content. buckle up guys, there's a LOT. detailed drug descriptions gun play; shion puts a gun to rans head, TW FOR DRUGS!!!! reader does drugs, sanzu injects drugs like a lunatic, mentioned whorehouse, gambling, sanzu and mochi talk badly about women so tw objectification.

a/n: really decided to amp up the plot in this hope you guys enjoy forreal. some shion backstory + dona too and at the end there's a special cameo at the end HEHEHEHEHEE. oh and please pls pls read the content warning above before reading, ik some ppl arent comfortable with drug mentions or guns in stories so i dont want to make anyone uncomforable ://

Shion’s eyes kept darting towards the clock by his bedside table every five seconds to see if he was reading the time correctly or not.

 It’s almost midnight and you disappeared almost seven hours ago with his car, shrugging on your jacket and thanking him with a kiss on the cheek—not even the lips—for letting you borrow his car. 

He wanted to ask where you were going but briskly bit down on his tongue, choosing on trusting you instead. 

In all honesty he had no clue where you were going, and he doesn’t mean this to sound offensive in the slightest but you don’t have friends to run to, so the curiosity in him peaked. 

He didn’t want to appear as controlling and wanting to know your every single move, an attribute he knows fully well you hate in a partner.

 From years of knowing you, from growing up together to your teenage years, he’s seen the boys you dated and how they were clingy and wanted you all to themselves. He’s seen them slowly break any resilience you have and left you broken and crying. 

It’s a pretty sadistic thing to admit that he liked seeing you stumble over to his house, eyes thick with tears and crying on his shoulder, nodding through quiet whimpers and mumbles as he told you that he’d always be there for you. It’s something that’d been programmed into you since you first got your heart broken at fourteen, the mindset having grown with you even through adulthood.

Shion first found out he loved you when you both were thirteen and when he got arrested and sent to juvie, you were the only one in his life that cared enough to visit him and send him letters every other week. 

His mother gave up on him after he broke each one of her warnings. He could still remember her telling him firmly if he continues down this violent path and gets himself caught, he shouldn’t dare coming back home. 

Maybe he went a little too far when he was caught smuggling cocaine under his jacket by a police officer and got himself locked up in juvie. 

But if you were to ask him if he regretted it, he’d tell you fuck no. 

Those times in juvie were the best part of his life; he met Izana, a legend in his eyes, even in death he still honours and respects him. He also met his ex best friends and former gang mates, most of them now known as Bonten. 

He met Ran, someone who Shion found himself jealous of for how strong he was, how charismatic he was, how much of a smooth talker he was. 

It’s like Ran was built for this lifestyle whilst Shion had to nudge his way in through the tiny doors. He used to stutter when confronted and had to learn to smooth talk his way out of situations. 

At only thirteen, Ran was able to not only talk himself out of any situation, but do it efficiently enough without ease and not even sweating one bit. 

He loved Ran as a friend, but as a person? He was jealous. Everything that he wanted to be, Ran was. 

Shion had to teach himself how to fight and would lose most of the time and make a fool of himself. Whilst Ran would look so bored and uninterested, barely putting in the effort and still would come out on top. 

There was an incident when a fight broke out in juvie, everyone was jumping each other just because of the sake of it. Izana was the strongest, taking out over twenty boys his age, Ran was next, finding creative ways to beat them up with objects like kicking a chair till a leg fell off, then whacking them with the object until it was recoloured with their blood. 

“You can’t do that! That’s cheating!” Shion had to direct his voice up at the taller boy. 

Ran, standing at 5’10 at the age of thirteen, looked down at Shion. The first thing Ran noticed was how his fists were bloody, then he slowly trailed his eyes upwards to his face where the real brunt of the damage was. His eye was black, nose soaked with his own blood and lip on the verge of swollen. 

“Cheating?” Ran questioned, looking down at his hand. “You mean this?”

“Yeah! You can’t use weapons. That’s cheating.”

Ran cocked his head to the side. “Says who?”

Shion had to think for a moment. “...the rules?” 

“The rules of what? Who made those rules up?” 

“Delinquents! Obviously! It’s just common sense!” Shion felt like his mind was boggled. He thought back to all the delinquent manga stacked up in his room, how he aspired to be like them and saw them beating people with their bare fists. 

“What do you know about delinquents?” Ran asked back, shifting his weight onto his foot. He placed his hand on his hip, the bloody chair leg swinging backwards, almost stomaching a poor boy walking past.

Shion took a mental note of his calm, placid nature and was genuinely confused. Anyone that studied up on delinquent manga would know that you have to always use your fists, be the loudest, rudest person in the room, always looking for a fight. Yet the boy in front of him right now looked like he was on the verge of sleep yet still managed to beat up ten times more guys than Shion could. Shion seemed happy with his two bodies, then looked over and saw Ran with at least eight, underneath some of those laying on the floor groaning in pain were probably a few more bodies. 

“...from manga,” Shion admitted sheepishly, looking down at the floor. Now that he thinks about it, his answer was pretty childish. Ran’s eyebrows rose in a moment of surprise before bursting out into laughter, the sound grating Shion’s ears. “Oh shut up! You think you’re so tough huh?! Fight me without that thing!” He pointed to the chair leg.

Ran finally stopped cackling and dramatically wiped a tear from his eye. He looked down at Shion who was much shorter than him, probably standing around 5’6 and hummed in thought, the sound smooth and sweet yet the chill it sent down Shion’s spine was the total opposite. 

“Okay.” Ran shrugged and tossed the chair leg across the room. It clattered against the wall with a loud crash and Shion snapped his head over to see where it landed. In an instant, Shion was on the floor, tackled underneath Ran as he forced Shion’s hands together, pinning him down. Shion struggled and tried to wriggle out of his grip but it was like iron. No, iron is an understatement. Those strong enough could bend iron. It was like diamond. 

Shion realised how much weaker he was compared to him and almost started crying from sheer frustration and embarrassment. He’d never seen the delinquents in his manga get absolutely violated like this. Ran’s hand rose up, clenched into a fist and flew downwards to Shion’s face. Shion squeezed his eye shut, ready for the brunt of the hit, but it never came.

His arms suddenly felt a whole lot lighter and he slowly opened his eyes, watching Ran stand up and dust himself off. “You’re too weak for me. It’s not gonna be enjoyable.” He stretched those long limbs of his reaching up towards the ceiling and cracked his back with a few more stretches. 

“Wha—” Shion spluttered, shaking his head like a dog to clear his head. “Where’re you going?”

“To shower. I stink.”

“But we didn’t finish! You can’t just leave a fight half way!” he yelled at Ran’s retreating back as he walked out of the cafeteria hall, leaving Shion there alone.

After juvie, the six of them left together and formed a new generation, S-62, doing heinous activities such as drug trafficking and making connections to expand their assets. You, of course, were still waiting for him like you promised. But slowly, the more involved he got, the less and less time he saw you. The two of you didn’t go full ghost on each other, but you were focusing on your own personal life and school, he was focusing on his own thing. 

You met Ran when Shion invited you to one of his parties since he missed you and to this day he regrets ever letting you meet him. Not only did you fall for Ran’s charm, he practically brainwashed you, drew you in with his words, his voice, his everything that Shion lacked. 

Eventually Ran became the shoulder that you went to cry on instead. 

Your relationship with Ran was constantly filled with ups and downs; the ups preceding the downs by a mile. 

Ran made you feel good and you became addicted to that feeling, so much so that without, you felt like nothing. 

Literally nothing.

During your fights it became an unhealthy habit to avoid Dona and Mira whenever they asked you to hang out because you wanted to wallow by yourself in peace. 

You’d lay on your bed, curled up all day, checking your phone and going through your messages with him, sometimes catching him online and fight the urge to send him a text.

Mira and Dona were your best friends and you loved them, but they never gave you that feeling that Ran gave you. 

He was like a drug, and though you’d never done drugs, you felt like an addict. Couldn’t go a day without thinking about him and what he was doing. 

You slowly didn’t like the person you were turning into, the girl that abandoned her friends and family because she was depressed and needed that boost of serotonin that only Ran could provide. 

Perhaps Ran was that male figure you so desperately craved for in life that when he left you just spiralled.

Shion still has no clue on why you were spiralling so badly. You never told him anything, such an unhealthy habit of yours to keep your feelings bottled in, then once the pot overflowed it became too overwhelming and you exploded. 

Maybe when you get back with his car, he’ll ask you about it. 

He glanced at the clock one more time. Still midnight. 

Grabbing his phone, he decided to track his car, see where its at. Technically it’s not creepy or weird to track you. He’s tracking his car. Not you. You just happen to be inside his car. 

Besides, he needs to soothe that niggling feeling inside his mind telling him you probably got lost, kidnapped, or crashed his car and died. 

It stated the car, parked a location of what seemed to be a penthouse, had been parked for the last eight hours. He paused and zoomed into the location, cursing the Google Maps app for showing  the satellite view instead of street view. He has no clue where this house is or who it belongs to. 

Part of him wants to say Ran, but the other part rejects it, not wanting to be faced with that truth just yet. Who else do you know that lives in a penthouse? Could be Dona, he thinks, she lives in a penthouse also. But Dona hates you, and he’s sure you might hate her back. 

Shion saved the address in his mind and dialed Hiro, hoping you gave him a call. 

The first thing he heard when he answered the phone was a low grumble. “What the hell do you want?”

Shion relaxed further into his bed, his hands laced behind his head. “An attitude already huh?” 

Shion could practically picture what peeved facial expression Hiro might’ve been wearing on his face through the exasperated sigh he let out.

“It’s bad enough you put me in this damn hospital. Now you’re not even letting me get some sleep?”

“I already apologised for that. Get over it.”

“You broke my ribs, you piece of shit,” Hiro growled.

Shion yawned. “It’s fixed now isn’t it?”

“Fuck you.”

Shion fought back his eye roll and sat upright. “Have you spoken to your sister lately?”

“No. Why? Did she find out your stupid plan and now you think I told her?”

“No she didn’t find anything out and she won’t. Keep your mouth shut and I won’t break your other ribs. It’s just that she hasn’t come home yet; it’s been 8 hours.” Shion peered over towards the clock, the number moving from 00:59 to 01:00. “Never mind, 9 hours now.”

“I swear to God if something happened to my sister and its your fault Shion I’ll—”

“Guess you don’t know anything then,” Shion sighed. “This was a waste of time. G’night.”

“Wait! If you find her tell her to call m—”

Shion hung up the phone before Hiro could finish his sentence. Hiro looked down at his phone in disbelief. He wasn’t surprised, more irritated instead.  He hoped you were okay but at the same time you had a track record of disappearing for no reason and ending up fine. Maybe this was another one of your episodes.

His phone moved to your contact, looking at your messages, Big Sis offline and decided to text you for himself.

~*~

You couldn’t sleep. 

Tossing and turning in Ran’s big comfy sheets did almost nothing to help. You tried everything in the book to try get your body to shut down and sleep but nothing worked. Your brain hyper active and flipping through the memories of earlier today, the kisses you shared earlier, his lingering scent still wafting around the bedroom, his voice that you missed so much. 

He’s been gone for six hours now and yet your thoughts went back to only him and his wickedly talented mouth.

Your phone buzzed, the room lighting up as Hiro’s name flashed across your screen from the dresser. Slapping uselessly around for the device, you fumbled with it until he held the phone the right way up just in time to see another notification.

2 New Messages: Hiro 

Where are you? 

Do I need to file another missing persons report?

You hesitated, wondering briefly if you should tell the truth. Nah, it’ll cause more harm than good. You pressed your chin into the soft black pillow case as your brain thought of rapidfire excuses that would explain your disappearance.

Sent: HIRO HI! Hows hospital food? Want me to bring you something instead?

Too much. Way too much, you thought but sent the message anyway. You could practically hear the nagging voice of your therapist abroad telling you that deflecting was never the answer and you should confront your issues head on for the healthiest recovery. 

Hiro could read you like an open book, even through text and it was scary. 

Hiro:

Stop deflectingg. Where are you?

Sent: don’t worry im fine. How are your injuries? Rib healing ok?

Hiro: 

You’re with ran arent you?

You paused and stared at the text. For a solid second you were sure your heart actually sank and you hated how perceptive your younger brother could be at times.

Sent: how pathetic do u think i am? Im insulted hiro -_-

Hiro:

Im insulted you think im this stupid

Whatever man as long as youre safe

Hes taking care of you right?

Sent: yes. He is. 

Hiro: kk thats good

Sent: youre really not mad? I feel bad

Hiro: kinda relived ngl. 

Sent: why’s that??

Hiro: nothing dont worry. Dont tell shion though i doubt he wil have the same reaction i did. Stay safe

Sent: ill come see you this weekend i promise. I love you

Hiro: lyt

You sighed in relief once you turned your phone off. Knowing Hiro was happy with your decision felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. Honestly you weren’t expecting this to go so well, fully expecting some type of drama to happen, Hiro yelling at you for seeing Ran after you promised you would stay away from him. 

You lifted the blanket, pulling them over your body and closed your eyes, finally drifting off to sleep.

~*~

The next morning, Mira woke up next to an empty bed as usual. It’d been a regular occurrence by now so she wasn’t phased by it, still there was a little twinge in her heart every morning that she refused to acknowledge. 

She quickly got herself ready for the day and headed downstairs to the kitchen to prepare for the event this evening. She opened up her Macbook and gathered all the recipes. 

An hour into cooking, her doorbell rang. She quickly washed the dried dough on her hands, wiped them dry, then walked over to the door. Dona was there, rubbing her wrists and admiring the outside decór outside the Tachibana residency. 

Mira lived in the suburbs, from the looks of it in a nice neighbourhood. Probably a cliché, Dona thought. 

Dona lived in the city, the busy bustling city where you’re woken up by the loud honking horns rather than peaceful birds. 

Her dream was to get married, have kids and live in a similar area like Mira’s neighbourhood. She’s twenty six now and isn’t even close to accomplishing her dream. 

Step one + two get married was a bust, men were practically afraid of her. She likes having the reputation of being icy cold, after all it was the only way you could be taken seriously in her industry. 

If you were too soft, delicate and emotional you were considered a weak link.

Plus she’s a woman and most men she encounters already don’t take her seriously. 

She has a reputation to uphold, her cold nature spread around like wildfire, plus being close to the executives in Bonten didn’t hurt for a little extra credit to her reputation too. People take her more seriously now, men and women. 

Also being Izana’s cousin also helped with getting connections. His death brought her closer to Mikey, the two of them using each other as a coping mechanism. It was her idea to use Izana’s earring as Bonten’s logo, an idea that resonated deeply with Mikey. 

Dona could never live in a neighbourhood like this as much as he desperately wants to. Her job relies her being out all the time meaning there’s barely any free time for her to sleep in and just relax. This neighbourhood is more like a community, meaning if anything goes down, it’ll be hard to cover anything up with so many eyewitnesses peeking out of their windows.

“Dona! You came!” Mira clamped her arms around Dona’s neck, pulling her in for another hug. “Come come, you can help me prepare for the party!”

Dona was ushered inside, Mira moving past her to lock the front door. The house was modern, a big living room space and Dona envisioned kids running around the place. She briefly remembers how excited Mira was to have kids and get married, settle down with the man of her dreams. The kitchen was just as big as the living room, shiny black marble on the walls and counter tops, plenty of room for them to get everything prepared.

The time was 9 in the morning and the two of them had to get everything prepared before five pm. It was a huge party, loads of baked goods as well as home cooked meals. Mira considered herself a good cook and prided herself in her cooking. Naoto loves it and can’t wait to finish a long day of interrogating and investigating just to come home and enjoy his fiancé’s cooking. 

With an extra helping hand, Mira managed to finish an hour before the party started, giving her time to start preparing everything before Naoto and his co-workers came home. They set the food in the garden in warming trays, put a cooler outside for the alcohol and only fifteen minutes before hte aprty started did they both finally have time to themselves.

Mira flopped onto the couch exhausted, an exaggerated yawn leaving her mouth. “I’m beat. My feet are killing me!” She turns onto her back and kicks off her fluffy slipper boots. 

“You did an amazing job. They’re all gonna love it.” Dona walked over to the unlit fireplace, looking at the picture frames stacked on top. She picked up a photo of Mira and Naoto, his hand resting on the flat of her back as they both smiled into the camera. “Is this Naoto?”

Mira rolled her head to the side to look at the photo in her hands. “Yup! That’s him!”

“How’d you guys meet?”

“My roommate in college was studying criminology. Naoto was in her class so I met him through her. We spent more time together and started dating in…2012? I think. Something like that.” Mira practically had hearts in her eyes as she spoke about him. 

She really was in love.

“I really want to meet him,” Dona said, putting the photo back down. 

Unknown to Mira, Dona actually met Naoto before, but it was one sided. 

Back when Bonten was forming, Naoto had been on their tails, always causing them troubles with his investigations.

 Their warehouses got raided so much because they didn’t have the manpower to fully protect, defend and hide their tracks. Dona and Sanzu were assigned to keep an eye out to see any suspicious activity coming from the Tokyo Police Department (TPD). 

She’d never had an actual conversation with Naoto, only observing him from afar and planting fake evidence to throw his entire investigation in the bin, leaving them to start from scratch.

“I want you to meet him too!” Mira chirped. 

She sat up swiftly when she heard the front gate open. Dona blinked and Mira was gone, already zooming towards the door, opening it and launching herself towards Naoto. 

He stumbled back on impact but held her tight, putting his briefcase down to probably embrace her. He put her back on the ground and gave her a kiss on the lips, the giddiness rolling of Mira in waves as she kissed him back just as eagerly. 

Dona felt a little twitch of jealousy residing in her, wondering if she’ll ever get to experience this kind of love. Being raised in the Kurokawa household, love, care and affection was practically non-existent. 

Since a young age of five she was abandoned by her parents, forced to live with foster parents who tried their best to teach her love and empathy but she was too much of a demon child. 

She was in and out of the foster care system her whole childhood. Her parents were cold, narcissistic and manipulative people who barely cared about each other yet alone their daughter. 

When Dona was ten, she found Izana and the two found out they were cousins. Since then they’ve stuck to each other like glue. 

Izana’s death affected Dona in ways nobody could understand. It took you and Mira almost two years to melt that icy exterior she had built up as a product of her childhood and Izana’s death only brought it up back. She wasn’t herself anymore, truly feeling nothing but loneliness. 

Ran helped her through it, after all they both lost someone they truly cared about. 

Maybe it wasn’t the most appropriate thing to catch feelings for her best friend’s boyfriend but Dona was nothing but selfish, the lack of stability in her life led her to prioritise her own needs and wants in a way to regain a sense of control over her own life. 

Her feelings mattered the most above all. In her mind she started harbouring resentment towards you whenever you’d complain that Ran’s pissed you off again and the two of you are back on break, or when the two of you would get back together after going a whole month of no contact. 

It was fucking annoying seeing you take him for granted. Even now as she looks at Naoto and Mira, she feels resentment rather than joy for her friend finally finding her lifelong partner. 

Kakucho’s recommended therapy to her many times to which she shut that option down almost every time. Kakucho’s been to a couple therapists, liking talking about his feelings to someone now that he doesn’t have Izana around anymore. He knows therapy works and he feels himself becoming a better person and only hopes Dona could put her pride aside and admit she needs to get some help.

“Baby come come I want you to meet my best friend!” Mira dragged him inside, kicking the door closed behind her. “Naoto this is Dona. Dona this is Naoto.”

Naoto extended his hand out, polite and formal and shook Dona’s hand. “Wonderful to meet you.” 

“You too.” Dona smiled awkwardly, retreating her hand away almost instantaneously. 

“I finished cooking! Are your friends on their way?”

Naoto sighed and turned to face his fiancé. “Baby I’m sorry but something came up and they had to go on a mission together. So the party has to be rescheduled.” His heart nearly broke into pieces when he saw the excitement on Mira’s face slowly wash away as she came to the realisation that she wasted a whole day cooking. 

“Really? Aw, okay.” Mira’s shoulders slumped. She looked up at Dona and frowned. “I’m sorry you went through all this for nothing. I wasted your day.”

“No. No it’s fine,” Dona reassured. “I had fun today. Don’t stress.”

“Baby,” Naoto called, getting Mira’s attention. “If you want we can give the food to our neighbours. You know they love your cooking.”

Mira slowly nodded, still disappointed but at least the food won’t go to waste. “Alright, I’ll start packaging them into containers. You two stay here and talk. I want my two favourite people to get to know each other.” Mira said leaving no room for discussion and left the living room. 

Dona swung her arms awkwardly as Naoto took his blazer off and settled on the couch. “So…what do you do?” she asked, trying to make conversation. “I heard something about a promotion?”

Naoto shook his head. “My co-wokers is getting a promotion not me. I’m a detective in the Tokyo Police Department. My promotion was a year ago.”

“Oh! Congratulations. Policing and detective work must be a pretty challenging job huh?”

Naoto nodded. “It has its moments yeah. I meet some assholes on a daily basis but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

Dona moved to sit on the armchair next to the couch Naoto is sitting on and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “I heard there’s a pretty big case going on in the TPD lately. Something about that criminal group on the news every two business days haha.” Her laugh was nothing but fake, Naoto could sense it but chalked it up to her being an awkward individual. 

Something about Dona seemed off though, he couldn’t quite put a pin on it. Briefly, his eyes searched her body exposed from her clothing to see if there was any tattoos. Bonten members have tattoos to differentiate ranks. All the executives he knows of so far have a tattoo that matched Izana’s necklace on a part of their body, mostly on a recognisable body part.

Manjiro Sano has his on the back of his neck. 

Sanzu Haruchiyo has his on his arm. 

The Haitani Brothers, a more recent breakthrough, have theirs on their throat. 

Those are the only members he knows so far. Dona so far has no visible tattoos and he doesn’t want to be seen as a pervert by asking his fiancé’s best friend if she could take her clothes off for a search. So he drops it.

Dona had a feeling he was onto her with the way he was observing her and praised herself for wearing a long shirt that covers her stomach where her tattoo is. 

“Yes, that’s correct. Bonten has been a priority for the department lately,” Naoto said finally.

“Oh wow. That sounds incredibly dangerous. I hope nobody gets hurt, I know how dangerous they can be. What have they found out?” Naoto looked on guard so she quickly added on, “I’m a huge fan of true crime. Watch it every day at home. It’s really cool.”

Naoto softened a little bit more and exhaled. “I’m sorry Dona but I’m not allowed to go into too much detail about on ongoing investigation. Confidentially and all.”

Dona nodded understandingly. “Of course, I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just that it must be so intriguing, the way you police-men deal with these criminals.”

“It can be yes, but its also a lot of  hard work and long hours. I sometimes hate coming home late and entering the house to see Mira asleep. I barely spend time with her.” The constant questioning of Bonten had him feeling uncomfortable so he tested the waters and switched topics back onto Mira. If Dona wasn’t shady, she’d accept the topic had moved on and leave it alone. 

“Poor Mira.” Dona paused for a second and Naoto watched her, observing her. “Do you ever worry about the risks involved? I know Bonten doesn’t play by the rules.”

He knew it. Clearing his throat, he says, “I won’t deny that there are risks but we’re trained for a reason. Our duty is to protect the city and the people.” He stood up from the couch and dusted his clothes. “If you’ll excuse me I have to get changed. It was nice meeting you again.”

“You too!” The second Naoto’s back was turned away from her, her smile fell and she pulled out her phone. Since her evening plans was ruined, she has to find something else to do. She texted Rindou and asked where he is.

~*~

Dona has no idea how she ended up running into you on the street but after exchanging a few words the two of you expressed how you both have nothing to do, you both found yourself wandering the streets together. 

Rindou finally responded to her text, stating he was at Starlight Mirage, one of the hostess clubs owned by Bonten. The idea of Rindou being there with a bunch of pretty girls clinging to him only pissed her off, the horny fuckers but she responded I’ll be there and turned her phone off.

You were sipping on your drink when you saw Dona look up from her phone and begin walking in the other direction. “Wait! Wait hold up!” You jogged to catch up with her, holding her arm to keep her in place. “Where're you going?”

“To a club. Let go.” She shook her arm trying to rid you of it but you held tighter.

“What club? Is it far?”

“A club we own. Now let go,” she said a bit harsher. You let go and kept your hands to your side, mumbling sorry. You made it about two steps when she stopped you with an abrupt call of your name. When you faced her, she had her eyes squeezed shut, lips pressed tight as if mentally preparing herself for what she was doing. “Do you want to come with me?”

You had to scoop your jaw off the floor as wondered why she’s asking you to join her. “What?”

“Don’t make me change my mind,” she said flatly.

“I thought you hated me?”

She shrugged. “You hate me too. What’s the big deal?”

“I don’t hate you Dona. I never did,” you admitted quietly. Dona observed you for a second before sighing.

“You coming or not?” 

You weren’t one to turn down an invitation. You closed the distance and began walking beside her. She had her hands pressed up to her chest as if protecting herself from the chilly breeze. 

“Wait.” You both came to a pause on the busy street and she turned to look at you, eyebrow raised. “You said we’re going to a hostess club right?”

“Yeah? What, you’ve never been?”

You shook your head. “Is this outfit okay?” You gestured to your rather plain outfit, a simple band tee and jeans. Dona pressed her lips tightly and shook her head slowly. 

“Not in the slightest.” She pivoted her head to see if there was an appropriate store to enter and buy you something. “You got money on you?” You reached inside your pocket and pulled out a few bills, a small amount of change barely enough to buy you a meal. She slapped her forehead. “Of course.”

“Hey!”

She ignored you and continued looking around before eyeing a store across the street. It wasn’t something she’d normally go to for dresses, finding the clothes rather cheap looking but desperate times calls for desperate measures. 

The store was playing pop music when you both entered and she told you to pick a dress so she could buy it for you and the both of you could keep on moving.

It’s been fifteen minutes and you still haven’t picked something out yet. You’ve been wandering through the aisles, trying to figure out what to get, what might fit, what might look ugly. Part of you was subconsciously trying to pick something you think Ran might like. Ran likes short clothing mainly, wants to see every inch of your skin exposed, but if he were to choose something long, he’d make sure it had a thigh slit somewhere just so he has access. 

“Oh my god hurry up! You’re taking forever!” Dona exclaimed, checking her phone for the time. 

“I’m sorry! I’m just very picky when it comes to clothes!” You’d been oogling between the short dress and the long dress for the last two minutes. Out of options, you grabbed both of them and showed Dona. “Pick one.”

Dona gave you a ‘seriously?’ look and you nodded eagerly, excited to see which one she chose for you. Rolling her eyes she pointed at the shorter one and you gave the staff the long dress to hang back up and approached the counter. Dona brought out her black card and bought the dress for you. As the receipt was printing, she told you to go and change into it. 

You both exited the shop and made your way towards the club.

~*~

The room was glowing red when you entered. You instantly spotted Rindou seated at the bar with a drink in his hand, exchanging small talk with the bartender as well as another man you never seen before. He had broad shoulders and chest and a goatee. Dona left you behind at the door and walked up to Rindou, surprising him from behind. 

You felt awkward where you stood; none of the men inside the room noticing your presence. Ran was sitting on the couch, his head faced downwards as his attention was absorbed by his phone, engaging in a long text chain with a client. You slowly approached the couch from behind and covered his eyes with your hands, bending low to whisper in his ear, “Guess who?”

His lips curved into a smirk as he instantly recognised your voice despite the soft whisper and tilted his head back to meet your gaze. “Baby, what’re you doing here,” he asked, holding a hand out to guide you around the couch. 

Once you were in front of him, he tugged you to sit down next to him. Your ass hit the plush seat and he lifted your legs to swivel around his lap so you were sitting sideways on the couch.

His hand found itself on your thighs and you clenched them subconsciously at the feeling of his big hand caressing your thigh. 

Mentally, you thanked Dona for picking the short dress just so you can feel more of his touch. 

“I ran into Dona on the street and she was on her way here,” you told him, trying to ignore the way your stomach was doing backflips. He hummed in agreement and you felt the rumble travel through your body. 

Before you could fully get comfortable, a girl walked into the room, readjusting her hoop earrings. “Ran-ran are you ready…?” she coo’d. She was dressed in a lingerie dress with black heels that stopped once she saw you on his lap. “Who the hell are you?”

“I—uh—”

“Not today baby,” Ran said,tilting his head backwards to get a look at her past your body. His hand on your waist squeezed a little tighter when he felt you squirm a little, clearly uncomfortable under her stare.

“But…but you promised last time it was my turn with you,” she said with a pout, her glare not leaving your frame.

You turned to look at Ran who looked apathetic about the situation and the words left your mouth despite how hard you tried to keep them at bay. “You can go if you want to.” 

“Are you sure?” he asked. 

Trick question you thought, and you remember your own words from just the other week. No strings attached. It pained you to nod your head slowly, your neck feeling stiff but you powered through it. 

Shifting off his lap, you awkwardly sat on the couch as Ran stood up, dusting his clothes. The girl smiled deviously and latched onto Ran’s arm as the two of them left the room. You pouted and crossed your arms over your chest, feeling petty and bitter about the whole situation. 

“You lonely?” A deep voice comes from behind you. 

Tilting your head back, you see the same guy from before standing behind you. You shrugged, not in the mood for conversation right now. 

He slowly rounded the couch and plopped on the other end, giving you space since he sensed you wanted it. “I’m Mochi by the way. I don’t think we’ve met before.”

You told him your name and went back to pouting. 

“If you want me to leave, say so and I will.”

“No…it’s fine.” You sighed and turned to face him. “Sorry Mochi was it?”

He chuckled. “Forgot my name already?”

“No I’m good with names usually I swear. I’m just…I dunno.” You casted a quick glance over to the door Ran exited from and wondered what exactly they were doing right now. The answer felt obvious to you, what else does a girl wearing lingerie want,  but you were in denial. 

“Distracted? What’s on your mind? Normally when I’m distracted I take something.”

“Take something as in drugs?” You peeked at him. He slowly nodded his head. 

“You’ve never done before?”

“Few times. Not often though.”

“It’s no wonder you look stressed.” He stood from the couch. “Bare with me. I’ll need to grab something from upstairs. Stay here?”

“Okay.” You watched him leave the room and return less than five minutes later with a box in his hands, Sanzu walking in beside him. He had his hands tucked in his pockets, a sardonic smile on his face as he met your eyes. 

“Hey! It’s you!” he called out pointing at you and catching the attention of everyone else in the room. For the first time tonight, Rindou met your eyes and you instantly looked away, unsure how to handle the intensity of his stare. 

Sanzu stood in front of you on the couch and peered down at you. “Mochi said you wanted me to hook you up with something. But I don’t know how Ran would feel about me hooking his bitch up with substances,” he finished, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“First of all,” you stood up from the couch to meet his eye better. “I’m not a bitch. Don’t call me that. And I’m not his bitch. Secondly,  I don’t care how Ran feels. I don’t belong to him, I can do what I want.”

Sanzu paused for a second, his eyebrows rose with shock. “And she bites. You just got even hotter in my book baby.”

You rolled your eyes and sat back down, readjusting your dress on the way. “What drugs do you have?”

Sanzu extended his hand out for you to grab. You took it and he led you towards the table in the back corner of the room, Mochi following behind the two of you. The two men sat down on either side of you, sandwiching you between their bodies. It made you uncomfortable but at the same time excited you because for some reason, you weren’t scared of these two guys even though you should be. Their closeness calmed you, like a hot bath on a cold night. If only Ran was there too.

“So Mochi," Sanzu started as Mochi set the little box on the table, "which girl do you plan taking home tonight? I saw this one bitch earlier, she had a tongue piercing. So sexy. You barely see that shit 'round here unless they're on some freaky shit."

Mochi shook his head, a mischievous grin lighting up his face. “Nah I know who you're talking about. She's too skinny for me. Like my women big and curvy."

"Like big tits or big elsewhere?" Sanzu inquired.

You rolled your eyes, fighting back the urge to cover your ears as the two of them spoke about women like that. Your ears were burning and you huffed, watching Sanzu reach for the box and begin pulling out each item separately. First came liquid methadone in a small glass bottle, then a lighter followed by a pipe, and finally two more small bottles containing pills and strips of paper. 

Sanzu separated the pills into four piles; 1, 3, 5, and 10 milligrams and showed them to you. 

“These are different doses depending on what type of high you want to get.  Top pill is 10mg, this next one here is 5mg and so on. The black bag there contains amphetamines and opiates to treat the comedown after a good hit."

“Uh okay, sure. Whatever that means.” You replied as he began tearing off the labels. When you asked for drugs these weren't the type of drugs you were expecting. You expected marijuana or something, that's the only drug you were comfortable doing by yourself. Not this...hardcore stuff.

"Do you um have anything less intense?" You turned to your right and already saw Sanzu with his sleeve up, injecting himself in his arm with a needle.

"No." He snapped at you, turning back around. You could tell he didn't like being questioned but this was the most real answer you'd gotten so far.

The needle pierced through his skin and you flinched in spite of yourself.

"Let me guess, you haven't done any hard drugs before and are nervous about it." Sanzu eyed you carefully. You nodded and he sighed loudly, rolling his sleeve back down and passing the vial to Mochi. "You see this is why I said Ran wouldn't be pleased about this."

Mochi rolled his eyes. "Who cares." He closed the vial and put it back in the box, setting it aside.

Sanzu leaned forward in his chair and pointed the tip of his finger at you, poking you lightly in the chest. "Remember, you're a grown ass woman and you can do whatever the fuck you want to do." You could tell whatever he injected into himself started to get to him as he got that dazed look in his eyes.

"I know I'm grown. That doesn't mean I can't be nervous still though." You felt self conscious of yourself now, knowing you looked ridiculous sitting across the table from these two men as they popped bottles of pills, played with needles, and even lit a joint. "Which do you reccomened for a beginner to try?" you asked Sanzu and Mochi who began thinking deeply.

Mochi hovered his hand around the litany of drugs on the table and picked up the smallest pile of white pills. "This is Valium, It'll calm you down and make you relaxed."

Sanzu shook his head. "No you idiot. Don't give that to her." Sanzu began grabbing for the stack of pills, all stacked up neatly in a triangle shape. He grabbed for a pinkish colored pill, tossing it over to you. "This is Vicodin. It's stronger than valium and will give you a better high overall. Also, its effect lingers longer than valium so if you use it sparingly it won't leave you feeling down after a while." He takes the pill from Mochi's hands and puts it in his palm, holding both palms out towards you. "Choose babygirl."

You hesitated. Maybe you shouldn't do this...but you also really wanted to. Afterall, you were bored. "Vicodin please."

Sanzu nodded and handed Mochi the Valium pill. "Open up," he said softly at you. He gripped your chin and you opened your mouth wide for him to place the pill inside. It slipped down your throat easily. He pulled away, pushing his fingers towards the back of your head to force you to look him in the eye.

"Do you feel alright?" he asked you quietly, stroking your cheek gently.

"I don't feel any different..." you told him honestly. You just sat there and waited to see what happened next. Nothing seemed to happen at first, other than the ringing in your ears beginning to fade. "So how long until it kicks in?" you mumbled to him.

Sanzu stared at you. "Give it about thirty minutes. If not then an hour." He clapped his hands together loudly, the sound startling you and making you jump. "I feel mines kicking in already." He gave you another smile, looking almost proud.

The two of them started talking about something you didn't care about again and you zoned them out, focusing on seeing if you felt any different. Ten...fifteen minutes pass and you feel the same. Finally, thirty minutes later you started to feel like something had changed. It was subtle, but you knew it was happening. The world became clearer and things around you started to move slightly slower than before. Everything around you seemed sharper and you could sense colors vibrating on the edge of your vision. Your brain felt clearer too, your thoughts getting more straight and concise. All you could think about was the feeling of this clean, smoothness pulsing in your body.

Conversation flowed smoothly between the three of you and you began having fun, you felt more animated and extroverted. Eventually, you were a little too buzzed to carry on a normal conversation and fell asleep on the couch. You woke up around ten minutes later with a tap on your shoulder. Looking up, you saw Ran standing over you, concerned at the state of you.

He squatted down in front of you, pressing his palm on your forehead. "You don't have a fever. You tired or something?" he asked, removing his hand from your forehead to rest on his knees. You blinked slowly at him, realizing you were tired and sore, feeling rather sluggish.

Now that your eyes were fully open, you noticed the teeny tiny fading love bite on the corner of his jaw and frowned. "I'm fine," you said snappily, pushing your legs off the couch and stood upright. Your legs were tingly and felt like thousands of needles were stabbing you from the inside and vowed to never take a pill from Sanzu again.

"Ah she's awake!" Sanzu called out from his corner of the room. He was sitting at a table playing cards with a few more people that you don't recognise. A simple look around the room confirmed Dona and Rindou had left.

Sanzu waved you over and you didn't hesitate leaving Ran's side, too mad at him to stay by him and walked over to Sanzu. "This is Benkei and Wakasa." He introduced each person and you nodded politely.

"I hope we didn't wake you," Benkei said smiling at you.

You shook your head pointed at Ran with your thumb who was now standing behind you. His chest against your back so suddenly almost startled you, but you kept your composure. His arm snaked around your shoulders possessively when he caught Wakasa's lingering eyes on your form and subtly pulled you closer towards him.

"She's still high," Sanzu snickered, pointing at you and taking a swig of his beer.

"What?" Ran asked and turned you to face him. He held your face up and examined you carefully. Your eyes were puffy and red and looked a bit glassy as well, you were clearly intoxicated. "Was gone for half an hour and you already got her popping pills," he directed his statement at Sanzu who smiled widely at you.

You rolled your eyes at him and pushed his hands off your face. "What do you care anyway? And you were gone for longer than that."

"You counted or something? What difference does it make?" Ran countered.

"None," you huffed and crossed your arms. You turned back around and took the seat between Sanzu and Benkei, ignoring the way Sanzu peered back at Ran, grinning even wider than before and readjusted his seat further into the table. "How do you play this game? Cards is it?"

Wakasa picked up the deck and placed it in your lap. "Let me show you," he said softly, handing you the deck of cards and giving you a soft smile.

Rindou re-entered the room with Dona behind him, the two of them calling Ran over. He was hesitant to leave you by yourself with the three men, but decided to give you your space because he could tell you were angry at him right now.

Dona reached up and hugged Ran once he approached the two of them. "Hey, you okay?" she asked, noticing tense he looked.

Rindou looked around the room, his eyes locking in on the sight of Wakasa standing next to you, bent downwards to talk into your ear as he explained and taught you how to play cards. 

"Oh," he breathed softly before bursting into laughter. "Your girl got stolen huh?"

Ran shook his head and slouched against the wall. "We all know who she's gonna run back to at the end of the day." The funny part is that he wasn't lying. Rindou knows that, Dona knows that, Ran definitely knows that and even you do. Rindou and Dona have been far too acquainted with that fact on many occasions. 

"You're so cocky it's sick," Dona mimes gagging. "For my own entertainment I hope she runs off with Wakasa."

"Don't be like that Dona." Ran dug into his pocket, pulling out some extra notes he had laying around and held it in front of her. "Go get yourself laid and release all that stress."

"I'm not stressed!"

"Yeah right," Rindou laughed, ignoring the way Dona redirected her glare to him. "When's the last time you got laid?"

Dona crossed her arms and shrugged. "Like a few months ago. I dunno."

"Damn, no wonder you're bitchy tonight," Mochi said from the couch.

"You wanna see bitchy?" Dona strode forward and dumped her leftover glass of beer on top of his head. 

Ran and Rindou started cackling at the sight of a wet Mochi and Dona tossed the empty glass on the floor, walking back over to Ran and taking the cash from his hands. "Fuck maybe you're right. I do need to get laid."

"Have fun yeah." Ran slapped her ass as she went past him, yelping at the sting and pouting before walking out of the room.

"You think she has any luck?" Rindou asked, moving to stand opposite his brother.

"Men here are desperate. They'll pay their life savings just to see a pretty girls panties."

"Don't act like women aren't the same either. They'll strip to the floor at the sight of both you two idiots," Mochi said as he approached them, wiping the remaining beer from his face with a towel.

"As they should." Ran grinned. 

“Go take a shower man, you stink,” Rindou grumbled at Mochi.

"Speaking of strip I want my girl back now.” Ran lifted himself off the walls standing up straight “I'll be back gentleman."

By now, Waka had returned back to his seat opposite you as the four of you played cards, Sanzu currently winning three games in a row. You tried to concentrate on the game but every now and then, Benkei would rest his hand on your leg and his fingers would brush across your skin, sending tingles down your spine.

Ran strode towards you, his voice startling you by your ear. "C'mon baby lemme take you home." You leaned your head back, wanting to look him in the eye, and caught sight of his cheekbones, high forehead and nose before your eyes drifted downward to those full lips. You nodded without hesitation and he held his hand out, helping you slip out of the chair.

"Aw man you're going home already?" Waka exaggerated his disappointment as you slipped away. "You didn't even finish this game."

"I wasn't going to win anyway," you responded back before slipping your arms through Ran's blazer that he took off himself to hand to you. You mouthed a thank you to him and he pressed a kiss to your forehead, grabbing your bag and holding it close to him.

By the time you returned home, it was almost 2 in the morning. You phone had died earlier in the day, missing all of Shion's calls and texts. Ran parked his car outside Shion's apartment complex and rode the elevator up with you. You rang the doorbell, your brain too sluggish to attempt and use your keys.

Shion opened the door and almost immediately glared at Ran. If Ran was surprised to see Shion, he didn't show it; a subtle eyebrow raise that was blind to everyone's eye.

You stumbled inside the house, mumbling that you're sleepy. You beelined straight for the bedroom, collapsing on the bed. Meanwhile, Shion stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind him. "What the fuck did you do to her?"

"Me?" Ran shrugged and shook his head. "Nothing."

"She's drunk! Or high or whatever! I swear to God if you did something Ran, I'll—"

"You'll what? Kill me? With what."

Shion pulled out a gun he kept in his pants and pointed it at his forehead. The action meant to be threatening yet, the expression on Ran's face remained unphased. 

"Ooh, where'd you get that. That's illegal in Japan, ya know?" Ran noticed the safety was still on.

"I have connections you dumbass. Don't bother asking. You're not getting an answer."

"Kill me then," Ran suggested. "Just a pull on a trigger and all your problems and insecurities will be solved." Shion's brow furrowed as he contemplated it. Ran leaned forward, his voice lowering to a whisper. "Just know if you do, might as well kiss any chance you got with her away. She'll hate you forever and you know that."

"You don't know shit."

"Really?" Ran smiled, taking the opportunity to lean closer to Shion. "I'm not a theorist but..." Ran grabbed the gun easily from Shion's hands and Shion watched in confusion as he removed the safety and put the gun back in Shion's hands. Ran grabbed Shion's wrist and repositioned the gun back at his forehead. "Go on shoot me. Prove my theory wrong. It's a clean shot. Go on," he goaded.

Shion's breathing got heavier for a moment before his eyes cleared, a stern expression on his face. The anger on his face diminished as he put his arm down, letting it fall limp to his sides.

"Exactly," Ran spat, dusting down his suit. "I'll be taking this." He snatched the gun from Shion's hands, pocketing it in his own waistband before patting Shion on the head condescendingly, taking advantage of the clear height difference. "Can't be letting little boys run around here wtih one of these. They're dangerous y'know?"

"Get the fuck out before I call the police," Shion growled.

"How adorable. Relying on police to save your ass." Ran sighed, shaking his head disappointedly. "Tell her I'll see her tommorow yeah?" Shion glared at him and waited for Ran to walk towards the elevator before re-entering his house. He walked towards the bedroom where he knows you'd be. He saw you laying on the bed, half asleep, half awake and flopped down beside you.

“You awake?” he called quietly in a whisper.

You grumbled a noise in response, sounding like a yes and no. Shion took a moment before saying, “Who would you pick? Me or him?” He was met with silence. He shifted a little closer to you and called your name again, met with more silence. 

Must’ve fallen asleep, he thought, ignoring that nagging part of him thinking how weirdly coincidental that was but left the room anyway, leaving you to sleep. The second the door shut you opened your eyes and frowned. Deep down you knew the answer to that, but the question made you feel so awkward it was best to avoid. But you had a feeling he’d ask you about it again in the morning. 

Meanwhile, Shion pulled out his phone and texted Dona that the plan failed, Ran is hanging out you again. She doesn’t respond instantly like she normally does so Shion understandingly gets frustrated. He scrolled through his contacts when he found someone to text.

Shion: I need a favour

He responded back almost instantly.

Hanma Shuji: how cute of you to text me at 2am. Maybe if you beg ill be able to grant your wish

Shion: don’t make this fucking weird can we meet later or not?

Hanma Shuji: what’s in it for me? Im a busy man

Shion: You get to piss off Ran Haitani. Thats what.

Hanma Shuji: interesting…

Hanma Shuji: You got yourself a deal.

pls lmk how you found this chapter!!! i was trying a new writing style so if you could tell me if you enjoyed it or not that'll rlly help my writing and motivation thank you guyssss !!!

masterlist

taglist: @escafhwiluv @lyniana @haitanifxn @rindougf03 @mvteria @hisan-na @luvhaitani @mishueb @Dreamxies @yuma404 @sleeplessreader @shinichirolover @illusorysmut @Lxvephxbic @obsessedwreiner @ililailii @insayninthamembrayn @missgab @reihimbo @l0velikethis @lollevi @danasaan @tenjikusstuff4 @midoriapologist @alkanessa @asp7n @thebrownemo @levstar777 @sanaukii @yumidepain @jesjesboo @pink-sugar-rush @ssailorvenuss @mizukikyong @suckonlimes @xngelsau @wrldstarrr @lonnie19 @yanfei-kisser @wrldstarrr @hayeoyeon @christmassugarcookies @minimari415 @hxonieverse @rinshoe @taihjj @ezri261 @mkc-ana @secretanimesimp @https-sonshine @nil-eena @weebausarus @secretxchive @getosmybeloved @kakuchosbff @atarathegreat @erenwifey @nyanglock @illumiismyforeverhusband @tsumudrip @notdyl4n @haruchiiiyo @strawberryshorcakee3 @satoruloaf @whoreforfictionalmen18

[muddthebugg]

The feeling when the new Wild Kratts episodes drop

Spoilers under the cut!

For episodes:

"Bumblezzzz"

"Salamander Streaming"

"Chimpanzee and Me"

fucking love how the bees are animated swaying all tranquil like,, 🥺💖

Martin is a real one forreal - everything I wear should have pockets for days or it's not worth wearing,, 😤

I love how Martin was like "it'll be quick!" And then they proceed to be out like all afternoon

RIP cake, never knew ya.. 😔😭

Once again love the way this show displays different animals and their coat patterns n such. These salamanders all look stunning af!!

Did Jimmy just fall into a family guy death pose?

I think he just fell into a family guy death pose.

Fucking. Love Koki so much in this episode. "Fine, one two three go."

Also her budding frustration!! Such a mood.

Ain't this the second time some rodent or rodent-shaped animal got into the Tortuga's walls and fucked something up with its hoarding/cacheing tendencies??

Oh!!! Interesting and lovely, the way that the chimps' mandibles move/show off their teeth while open! Or, at least, the way it was animated on this show!

The way homie did not wanna let that butternut go.....CHRIS!!

Huh! Second or third time i remember Chris doing that shaking-clearing-by-head-with-a-noise move. Somewhat similar to what he'd do in a malfunctioned t-devil suit. Coincidence? Unlikely.

Damn homie really did just bust his ass on some grapes,, XDDD

Now I can't think of anything but Chris Professor Xavier cosplay,, XD thank you for that, Wild Kratts Tumblr Fandom :D👍

Also like?? I'm pretty sure the Wolverine episode ("Iron Wolverine")'s suit was notably inspired by the character Logan Howlette.

Just cuz of the shoulder pads on that suit and the yellow stripes. Looks just like Logan imo.

AYO???? ASL MENTION???????

LETS GOOOO CHRIS USING ASL!!!!!

Also also love all these older clips of the bois in their younger days, hanging out with Chimps. Chris definitely has the energy of a camera man,, XDD

I also love that it went into some of the behaviors and communication styles of chimps, not just imposing human language n such!

Gosh. I love this show sm!!!