#right onto the pizza.
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magistralucis · 2 years ago
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@love-and-pigeons​!
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[ID: A black cat stepping into an open pizza box. Right onto the pizza.]
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mercless · 6 months ago
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🗡 thinking of talons modern verse but theyre literally just a loser who plays video games all day, has a part-time job at a pizza chain and a very illegal knife collection along with a hobby and passion for parkour and ninja warrior-related sports who is trying so hard to not be caught up in the Huge rich family drama they were adopted into and partly the cause of.
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ilivelikeimtrying · 1 year ago
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Raph: Alright everyone stay together, Leo, protect the pizza.
Donnie: Why is Leo in charge of the pizza?
Leo, exhausted after a long day: Because I can either talk my way out of a situation, or bite my way out, and right now? I'm not above either.
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fushitoru · 4 months ago
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i can't stop looking at his d—d—d—d—FACE!
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pairings ⸺ (SEPERATE) boy next door!gojo x reader, wrestler!toji x reader, gym trainer!sukuna x reader, pizza delivery boy!choso x reader, husband's boss!nanami x reader, perv on train!geto x reader
summary ⸺ jjk men as overused p0rn/h3ntai plots! inspired by this awesome post by the talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular @/osamucide! pls check it out and the rest of his work :3
warnings ⸺ SMUT (mdni), consent is pre-established in all scenarios (but dub con just in case), everyone is of age (or older), exhibitionism, infidelity in nanami’s, pussy drunk men lol, not edited (as always), cowgirl, missionary, creampies, VERY public sex in toji’s, art by 3-aem, lmk if I’ve missed anything!
a/n lolll i'm ngl this was so fun to write. some of these scenarios are so funnny hELP. this one is also for some of the anons who are so obsessed w choso and sukuna in bridgerton au. wrote them for you 🫡 choso’s is my fav hehe
NEW: part 2 here
general masterlist
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SUKUNA RYOMEN ⸺ HOTTIE'S PERSONAL TRAINER HAS A VERY HANDS ON APPROACH!
“Brat!” Sukuna’s voice cuts through the air like a whip. “Watch your back. You’re supposed to be hinging your hips back, not whatever lazy shit you were doing.”
He steps around to your side, the heavy thud of his boots on the gym floor adding to the oppressive weight of his presence. Squatting down, he sets his hips back in one smooth motion, demonstrating with sharp precision. “Like this. Not whatever the fuck that was.”
You glance at him, your legs trembling under you. Sweat clings to your skin, a thin sheen that feels heavy after the grueling thirty minutes with your personal trainer. Sukuna definitely takes the "tiger mom" approach, every tattoo on his body echoing the sharp, uncompromising authority in his eyes. Right now, those eyes bore into you, narrowed with impatience, his hands on his hips. His scowl is practically carved into his face—stone-hard and unmoving.
Breathing hard, you slump forward, hands gripping your knees as you gasp for air. Your heartbeat drums loudly in your ears. “Sukuna, g-give me a sec. I just—fuck—” You can barely string a sentence together between gulps of air. “I just maxed out. My legs are literally shaking.”
Sukuna clicks his tongue, shaking his head in disappointment, but his voice softens—just a little. “Fine. Catch your breath. But as you do that, let’s practice proper form.”
You nod exhaustedly, not being able to think very clearly. Wiping the sweat to prevent it from getting into your eyes, you put your legs hip width apart as Sukuna gets behind you to observe your form. You bend down, trying to sit back onto your hips as best as possible, but as soon as your ass grazes Sukuna’s crotch, you lose the form in your back in surprise. “Sorry—”
“That was wrong.” Sukuna’s voice is in your ear as he puts his hands on your hips, and you are dizzy with the contact. “Here.” Both of you squat down, Sukuna’s hard body moving right behind you, and at the lowest position, Sukuna’s thumb roves over the fat of your ass, and they leave your hips to trace up your back. “Your back should be neutral, otherwise you’re going to hurt yourself.”
“O—okay,” you breathily reply, dizzy with the way he was touching you. If you listened closely, it almost sounded as if you were whimpering. Unfortunately for you, it seemed like Sukuna was more observant than you had hoped because he was looking at you in suspicion, eyes raking up and down your figure to observe your appearance. Disheveled, chest rising rapidly, sweat dripping right in the middle of your breasts—
Sukuna, out of nowhere, grabs your hand and begins walking away. “Come with me. You’re not doing them right.”
Soon, you’re led into one of the gym’s stretching rooms—the private ones, the ones meant for Sukuna to help you after the workout. 
“Sukuna, what are we—” you breathlessly ask, but you’re quickly shushed by Sukuna as he hoists himself on the massage table.
“Come here,” he motions to his lap, and you wordlessly follow his directions, sitting directly on top of his lap, gasping as you realize there’s a bulge making contact with your pussy. “We’re going to try an alternative way of doing squats, one that involves a bit more cardio.” He pulls down his sweatpants, blushing, furious cock springing out as he pulls down your yoga pants.
Soon, you’re moaning as you slowly take in his cock, sliding down as his precum and your copious amount of slick mix and drip onto his pelvis. Your feet are on either side of his legs, making you squat every time you lower yourself down on his length.
“Fuck! You’re so tight.” He slaps your ass as you bounce yourself rapidly on his cock. “Pretended to not know how to squat just for me to put this fat cock in you, isn’t that right?”
You didn’t have the capacity to answer, just moan as his cock hits your spot. Unsatisfied with your pace, Sukuna flips you both over until your back is on the table. 
“Oh fuck yea,” Sukuna pants, hips pistoning into you rapidly, effectively fucking you into the table, and his quads are bulging in sheer strength as they clench and unclench in reflection of his pleasure. “Didn’t know my client had such a sweet pussy.”
KAMO CHOSO ⸺ SHE ORDERS BIG SAUSAGE PIZZA AND GETS HER DEEP DICK CRAVINGS FILLED! (the title is so ridiculous im crying)
“Your total’s $14.93. You’re five bucks short.” The delivery boy—an emo looking guy with hair in space buns—responds to the wad of cash and coins you had just given him. He couldn’t look any less bored than he was as he stared down impassively at you, hot, steaming pizza in one hand.
"Wait, but I ordered a small?" You ask him in confusion. "I couldn't possibly finish a large one by myself!"
He pulls out your receipt from where it was tucked into the pizza box. "Your order said a large." Upon glancing on it, you look that he was indeed correct—right next to your pizza, the size LARGE glared at you through the sheen of the reciept's paper.
"Oh," You said, dumbly, blinking in confusion. "Well, I can pay the rest in card if that's okay."
You get an impassive "I don't have a card reader."
"Oh, okay," you laugh nervously, hand going up to scratch the back of your head and fiddle with the rest of your fingers. "Okay, well," you squinted at his nametag, "Choso, let me just check the remaining cash I have. You can come inside if you'd like." 
He comes inside, dropping off the pizza you ordered on your kitchen counter as he makes his way to sit on your couch. You go to your bedroom, checking your desk drawer for any loose cash you may have stored but to no avail. Heart racing and nervous, you frantically search the upper shelf of your room, on your tiptoes as you look for your money jar, praying that there was a 5 dollar piece of cash lying around. Instead, your fingers crash against some book propped on it, tumbling down onto the floor with a large thud!
You hear footsteps coming up to your bedroom door. Choso, standing near the door. "You good?"
"Yea," you strain, still reaching up high to grasp at the jar. "I'm just trying to find somethi—”
The heat of Choso's body surrounds you as he presses closer to you, reaching up effortlessly to grab at the money jar. His groin presses against your backside, acutely aware of his breaths as he passes you the jar. 
Which is empty.
"Fuck!" you curse. You turn, looking at Choso in anxiousness, as you notice he hasn't backed away at all. "I'm sorry, but is there any alternative way to pay for the pizza? Again, I'm really really sorry for the hassle."
"You have to pay for the food in some sort of way," he says with a stony face. Your mind is racing, thinking of ways you could pay but coming up short.
As a result, you end up with your face stuffed against your pillow, the hot delivery boy plowing and drilling his cock into you. 
"Fuck, so irresponsible. Couldn't even pay for the pizza she ordered without a stranger's cock inside of her." At his dirty talk, you whimper and squeeze your pussy, Choso groaning as a result.
"What was that?" He grabs your hair and pulls your face up as his tongue traces the frame of your ear. "What were you trying to say, you cockslut?"
"'M sorry!" You squealed and babbled, eliciting little ah! ah! ah!'s as he continues bumping his cockhead against the gooey spot inside your pussy.
"Yea, you better be. Wasting my fucking time. I'm going to come inside, got it?" Choso growls as he continues pistoning his hips inside.
GETO SUGURU ⸺ ANIME GIRL GETS HER PUSSY FINGERED ON PUBLIC TRAIN!
He pulls you in for a deep kiss while rutting inside you. "Aren't you my good girl? Taking this cock for me like a good girl?" You squeal, blabbering nonsense as he fucks you into next Tuesday…
You read the smut from your favorite author on Tumblr, devouring each word while remaining stony faced as the train rocked underneath your feet. In the corner facing the doors, you made sure that you were angled in such a way that no one would be able to see the filthy things you were reading on your screen. 
However, the metro was slowing down and you looked up quickly—which was painful, considering you were so invested in the story—to make sure it wasn't your stop. As the rush of foot traffic simultaneously populated and vacated the metro, you paid no attention to the people behind you. After all, other people would be too busy on their phones to see what you were reading, right?
"You're going to take this cum, right? I'm going to breed you, my sweet, sweet girl." He laughs.  You take a moment to take in his pretty features. Long hair, beautiful face, all filled with lust for you...
You scan the words, blush evident on your face as your favorite writer has done it yet again. Adjusting, you squeezed your thighs for relief and toyed with the hem of your skirt, failing to notice the soft breaths trailing down the back of your neck just because of how enthralled and taken you were with the plot.
And then, a hand trailed up your thigh, catching you by alarm. You almost drop your phone in your rush to turn and look at the creep that was touching you, ready to beat the shit out of him. 
But when you do turn, you stop and widen your eyes. The man in front of you seems even prettier than the fictional man you were reading about, and you take him in as he rubs circles on your thigh. His sultry eyes rake down your figure, his lips pulled back in a knowing smirk. "That's some filthy shit you're reading."
Looking at him, your heart starts beating faster solely because of the promise of what his hands would do as they were currently softly stroking your thighs, getting closer and closer to going under your shirt. "I—I—uh sorry—I—"
"It's okay, pretty girl." He gives you a kiss on the side of your neck. "Continue reading it. Can you do that, baby?"
You nod, not trusting your voice. Coincidentally, you're at the part where the man helps the girl masturbate, rubbing and teasing her pussy up and down. The man behind you does the same, teasing your lips while refusing to delve inside your panties, no matter how badly you want him to do.
"That feel good?"
You whimper. "Yes—ah—it feels good. Please touch me on my pussy directly. Please."
The man behind you chuckles, and your knees buckle at how rich his voice is. You would join a cult for this man. "Since you asked so nicely, I will. Call me Suguru."
His fingers pull your panties aside and enters, soon knuckle deep inside your cunt, and as quietly as you can, you moan his name as he continues fingering you in front of all the strangers on the train. His hips press closer to your ass, and you throb even more at the huge bulge he’s sporting. He’s sloppily licking on the outside of your ear, right where you’re sensitive, and you shiver and lose yourself in the pressure even more.
The pleasure was building in you steadily and Suguru groans. “That’s right, take it all.”
You almost jump when the PA sounds. "The next stop is Shinjuku."
“That’s my stop. You have to cum before then, or you won’t be able to cum,” Suguru whispers in your ear, speeding up and hitting your g-spot with precision. There are tears forming in your eyes as you make an effort to stay quiet, especially with Suguru giving seductive kisses to your sensitive neck. 
“Fuck, you got so tight,” he groans. “Gonna cum?” He uses his thumb to rub fast circles on your clit, and you see stars. 
“I will—I will,” you cry, as the throbbing and pulsing sensation grows faster and faster until finally, you cum with a muffled cry, because Suguru has his fingers in your mouth to ensure you don’t scream out on this very, very public train.  “Squeezing my fingers so much, relax,” Suguru laughs, popping his slick-coated fingers in his mouth. “You gonna do that to my dick next?”
NANAMI KENTO ⸺ BEAUTIFUL WIFE HAS TO FUCK HER HUSBAND'S BOSS! (NTR)
“Mr. Nanami,” you scrape a hand through your hair and clear your throat. “You wanted to see me?” 
For a moment, your husband’s handsome boss eyes you down, catching on the top button of your blouse currently unbuttoned. You mainly did it because of nervousness, the heat of the room escalating with Nanami Kento’s presence. After a long bout of intimidating silence, he finally speaks. “I assume you can guess why you are here?”
You bounce your knee as you sit across from the man, and you suddenly start sweating. Of course you can guess. Your bum of a husband—the one currently under your charge—neglects to do his deliverables, choosing to take comfort in the fact that you were his higher-up to trust that he would not be getting terminated for his lack of responsibility. 
But what he doesn’t know is that you’ve been begging Nanami not to fire him, despite the propelling and clear reasons to do so. And you fear the day he finally chooses to stop listening to you. 
��Team leader, I’m going to need much more convincing. Your team has been decreasing in productivity ever since your husband joined, and it’s hindering the company,” he reminds you stoically. “I’ve seen you working overtime far too frequently to cover up for your spouse’s negligence.”
You wish time would speed up just to get this difficult conversation with. “I—I’m going to be honest, Mr. Nanami. I don’t have much warrant to continue having him on the team, but it would put my family in much…emotional conflict if this were to happen.” The said emotional conflict would really only be from your husband. You’re sure he’s going to take this as an excuse to drink himself silly, blaming you for not being able to keep him employed. Your throat dries as you finally meet eyes with your boss, silently pleading him to come up with a solution.
“I see.” Nanami crosses his arms. “I suppose there is a…favor you could do for me.”
At that, you perk up and nod your head frantically. “Of course. Anything.”
Which is why you find yourself bent over Nanami’s desk, his cock drilling inside you. He’s ripped your stockings, pulled up your miniskirt, and put your panties to the side as he moans about how sweet your pussy feels. “I’ve been waiting for this forever. Tell me, is my cock better than his?”
“It is!” you squeal. “You’re so—so big!”
Nanami moans as he ruts inside you, your walls squeezing him tight. “Darling, I c—can tell he doesn’t treat you right. You are so tight around me, pussy’s been waiting for a while for a real man.” 
You moan and curse, blabbering affirmations while his dick impales you. Even though Nanami is the one who’s owed the favor here, his hands wind their way around your body to rub at your clit, simulating you even more, making you sob. “Please don’t stop!”
“I won’t ever, sweetheart,” he pants. “I’m going to finish inside her, okay? Make sure to keep it in when you go home and greet your husband.”
FUSHIGURO TOJI ⸺ BABE GETS IMMEDIATELY DESTROYED IN NAKED WRESTLING (WITH AN AUDIENCE) (find extended ver here!)
Cheers surround you as you step into the arena. You know who your opponent is—-Fushiguro Toji. Even when you looked at his pictures earlier, you knew you were doomed. No matter what angle the photographer took the photos in, his muscles seemed to be bulging, effectively spelling out the sore defeat you were about to face today.
And there he is. Him in the flesh. He’s leaning against the boxing ring’s outer borders, head tilted back lazily while his manager, Shiu, was informing him quickly (and intensely) about the rules of today.
Nothing crazy. Only fuck when all clothes are off of her.
The way his neck is tilted back, compression shirt showing off his upper physique made you weak in the knees already. Additionally, judging based off of the bulge he seemed to be sporting in his grey sweatpants, you knew you were doubly fucked.
Shiu seems to be done talking, so he steps back and takes a seat. Toji leans his head back, rolling his neck to stretch it out, and in the middle of doing so, catches your eye.
You almost drench your panties.
His eyes darken, giving you a sultry look as he cheekily winks. While his cocky demeanor was warranted (he was much stronger and bigger than you), your cheeks heated up in both arousal and irritation.
The sound of a whistle is heard as music starts to play. The stadium’s screens flashes the cocky image of Toji, who saunters in the middle of the ring, flexing his muscles to his screaming fans.
When your signature theme plays, you do the same, to no shortage of fans yourself. You can feel everyone in the stadium, especially your male fans, rove over your figure. You’re wearing a very low cut top that displays the swell of your boobs and even tighter shorts that squeeze your ass and show off the shape of your pussy. As you walk towards Toji, you can feel his heavy gaze on you as you nervously shake his hand.
“Try to last long, okay?” Toji smirks, patting your shoulder. “I’ll try to drag this out as much as I can, but it’s gonna be fuckin hard if that ass is grinding against me.”
You glare at him, but there’s not much intensity there. “Yea, yea,” you huff. “For all I know, you’ll be my personal dildo today.”
And the fucker’s smile widens. “Let the games begin.”
Soon enough, the sound of the whistle draws you towards each other, keeping each other in a lock to tackle the other down in an objective to take off layers of their clothing. Your fans cheer when you have Toji underneath you for a split second, only for female ones to become more riotous as he easily overtakes you, pins your hands down, and wrenches your shorts off of you.
“Toji is currently in the lead!” The announcer’s voice in the stadium echoes of your defeat as you flail around, now bottoms only covered by your panties. Deciding to pull out your signature move, you maneuver so your thighs surround Toji’s waist and hump your hips against his bulge. This momentarily distracts and weakens Toji, and you take full advantage of it by overtaking him and now straddling him. You quickly take off his shirt, salivating at the muscles you see. The whole stadium, in fact, can his abs and pecs glistening with sweat.
Your attention is back to Toji as he chuckles darkly. “You’re going to regret that. I was going to drag this out, princess, but I gotta fuck the brat out of you.” With that, he puts his whole body weight on you and strips you down one by one.
The arena cheers as your lace bra is uncovered, your sweat shining on the screen as your breasts are displayed. Toji then unhooks your bra, and the roars get even louder as your tits pop out. He takes a moment to grope them, your whines ignored as he pinches your nipples. “What a sensitive girl,” he coos. “Too bad she was too weak. Now she’s going through to have to take my cock.
With that, he finally unveils your glistening pussy for all eyes to see and the crowd goes wild, chanting for Toji to finish inside you. Toji flips you over so you’re on your hands and knees and pulls down his pants.
You don’t look back at the monster that’s about to enter you for the sake of your mental health, but your legs are shaking in anticipation of his cock, slick dripping down your thighs.
“Fuck.” And Toji’s slowly entering you, the humiliating plap! plap! plap! of his hips against the flesh of your ass echoing multiple strangers watch your pussy get wrecked. “The fuck this pussy’s so tight for? Thought you were a slut?”
You’re tearing up, but not fucked out enough to prevent you from snarkily replying, “You’re not turning me on, small dick.”
He did not like that very much.
Toji drills his hips into yours faster and slaps your ass multiple times consecutively. “Yea, so why is she clenching so fucking much? Why is she dripping? Just for that, I’m going to come inside of your slutty pussy.”
The crowd chants cum, cum, cum! and Toji just does that. Ropes of his cum fill you, and you drop down in exhaustion to hear Toji declared as winner.
GOJO SATORU ⸺ GIRL GETS FUCKED BY PEEPING TOM NEXT DOOR!
You sigh, extending your back and un clipping your bra, letting your tits bounce free after a long, long week of college. It was finally Friday night, and with no one in the house due to a party the rest of your family was attending, you could finally enjoy your time home on the holidays, starting with a solo session.
You clench your thighs in anticipation as you scrolled your phone, seeking an audio you could masturbate to. And you were close to finding one, until you felt eyes on you.
These eyes were nothing new. The boy next door, Gojo Satoru, has also been your crush since middle school. Even though neither of you have ever made a move, you’ve made bold moves since starting college, stripping with the blinds open to give him a show. You had kind of had a sixth sense as to when the fucker would start watching you, and it flared as you slowly dragged your hands down. Bending over and shaking your ass, you slipped your skimpy shorts down your legs, giving him a clear view of your wet pussy.
But masturbating wasn’t enough for today. None of the college frat bros could make you cum, no matter how much they boasted about their fuckin roster, and you were tired of Satoru just watching. Just seeing him work out shirtless in his lawn, sun shining his sweat to give him a golden halo, was enough to make you sick, hungry for his dick. The way he was so shy and the mannerisms he had (as a loser) let you know he had a big fucking dick.
Needless, to say, you were tired of just fantasizing and speculating about his dick. Turning around, the moonlight allowed you to see the silhouette of his wrist moving up and down his length, even if he had tried to make his best effort to darken his rooms. Putting on your best show of an angry face, you grab your phone aggressively and dial his number.
The line rings, and he picks up. “Hey,” and you can tell he’s a little breathless. “long time no see. What’s up?”
“Cut the fucking act out,” you spit. “I know you’ve been fucking watching me, perv.”
Satoru’s panic is comically obvious over the phone as he rushes his words. “Wait, wait—listen, I—I can explain.”
“On how you’re being a peeping tom?” You glare at his window. “Come over, Gojo. Then I’ll listen to your fucking explanation.”
One thing leads to another, and now you’re spread out on your childhood bed, Gojo whimpering and whining as he plows his dick into your pussy. “You feel so—so good. M’ sorry—sorry for doing that. Your pussy is too good for me to look at.”
You laugh meanly and grab his chin. “You feel sorry yet, you pervert?” And Satoru can only cry out as you yank his head. “Remember, this is the only fucking thing you’re good at. Being my glorified dildo. Got it? Now, you’re going to fill me up only after you make me cum at least two times.”
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a/n yea this was depraved….lmk what yall think tho 😭
comment and reblog I’d love to hear your thoughts! (also, requests are open heheh)
NEW: part 2 here!
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dokjaism · 1 year ago
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good god i hate the better than thou mindset some ppl who don't eat meat or any animal products have
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jupiterpilgrim · 2 months ago
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Teach 'Em a Lesson: The Bold Guide to Putting Bullies in Their Place
Gaeul x Male Reader
word count: 7.2K
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You're chilling at Gaeul's place with the crew, sprawled on her comfy couch playing Pokemon on your phone. Your friends are getting restless, talking about grabbing some pizza from that fancy joint across town.
"Yo guys, let's roll! I'm fucking starving," one of your friends says, jangling the car keys.
Everyone starts walking towards the door, but there's only room for five, and there are six of you. Well, you are very focused on your game, so without much suffering you accept the mission to be exiled from the pizza run.
But...
Gaeul waves goodbye to them, saying she'll stay behind as well.
"Someone's gotta babysit the nerd," she snickers, jerking her thumb at you.
You barely look up from your game, used to her constant teasing. At 5'5; Gaeul's a tiny thing but she makes up for it with attitude. Her boyish style - baggy jeans, oversized hoodie hiding her small tits - doesn't stop her from being hot as fuck.
Not that you'd ever admit that to her face.
The door slams shut and suddenly it's just you two. The silence feels different now. Gaeul flops down next to you, peering at your screen.
"Seriously? Pokemon? No wonder you can't get any pussy,” she taunts, poking your arm.
"Fuck off, I date plenty," you mutter, trying to focus on your battle.
She lets out a bark of laughter. "Yeah right! Name one girl you've fucked."
"None of your fucking business." Your ears burn but you keep your eyes on the screen.
"Ha! Virgin alert!" She's grinning now, enjoying getting under your skin. "Bet you've never even kissed anyone. Too busy jerking it to anime titties."
Your jaw clenches. "I said: fuck off…"
"I don't know how we have friends in common."
"Shut up, Gaeul..."
"Make me, virgin boy!" She snatches your phone, holding it just out of reach. "What're you gonna do about it?"
Something snaps inside you. In one fluid motion, you grab her wrist and pin her against the couch. She squeaks in surprise, eyes going wide. your phone falls onto the couch seat next to you.
"The fuck did you just call me? Say it again!" you growl, pressing her down. Your body covers hers completely.
"I-I... virgin boy?" Her voice wavers but there's a glint in her eye that wasn't there before.
You grip both her wrists now, holding them above her head. "Ha! Wrong answer."
Her breath hitches. You can feel her pulse racing under your fingers. That's when you notice it - the way she's squirming isn't to get away. Her thighs press together, hips shifting restlessly.
"Holy shit," you breathe. "You like this, don't you? The tough girl act is just that - an act."
"N-no!" But her face flushes red and her nipples are hard points visible through her hoodie.
You lean down, lips brushing her ear. "Lying bitch! I can feel how wet you are through your jeans." She whimpers, and that sound goes straight to your cock. "Wanna see how much of a virgin I am?" You grind against her, letting her feel how hard you are.
"What the fuck are you doing?!"
"Just proving that even an annoying brat like you can turn me on too."
"Fuck you, n-nerd…" she whispers, but there's no bite in it. Her pupils are dilated, chest rising and falling rapidly.
"I'm not fucking kidding. Bedroom. Now." You release her wrists but maintain eye contact, daring her to disobey.
For a moment she hesitates, then scrambles up and leads the way to her room.
The second you're through her door, you grab her hoodie and yank it over her head. No bra underneath - her small tits are perfect handfuls topped with hard pink nipples.
"Fucking slut, walking around braless," you growl, pinching one nipple roughly. She cries out, legs trembling. "Bet you were hoping for this, weren't you?"
"No, I... ah!" She gasps as you twist harder.
"Still lying?" You spin her around, bending her over the edge of her bed. "Let's see how wet you really are."
You pull her jeans and cotton boyshorts down to her knees. Her pussy is dripping, juice running down her thighs.
"Look at that," you laugh darkly, running two fingers through her folds. "Soaked just from being manhandled a little. What a pathetic little sub you are."
“I-I'm not pathetic…”
She tries to close her legs but you kick them apart, keeping her spread wide. Your fingers circle her clit, making her moan.
"Please..." she whimpers.
"Please what?" You slide one finger inside her tight hole. "Use your words, slut."
"Please... oh… fuck me..." Her voice is barely a whisper.
You add a second finger, pumping them slowly. "What was that? Couldn't hear you."
"Fuck me!" she practically screams. "Please, I need your cock!"
"That's better." You pull your fingers out and wipe them on her ass. "But first..."
Your hand comes down hard on her right cheek. She yelps but pushes back for more.
"Gonna spank this attitude right out of you."
You alternate cheeks, watching them bounce and jiggle. Each hit makes her pussy drip more, a puddle forming on the floor. Her ass turns a beautiful shade of pink.
"Count them," you order.
SMACK!
"One!" she gasps.
SMACK!
"Two!"
By ten, she's sobbing and rutting against nothing. Her ass is bright red and hot to the touch.
"Good girl," you purr, rubbing the beaten flesh. "Now, on your knees!"
Half nervous and half anxious, she hurriedly gets rid of the pieces of clothing still on her knees, almost tripping in the process.
You take off your shoes and unzip your jeans, taking off your pants along with your underwear, letting your rock-hard cock spring free.
The sight before you makes your cock throb with anticipation - Gaeul, the annoying little brat who's been pushing your buttons for months, completely naked and on her knees in her bedroom. Her petite body trembles slightly as she stares at your massive erection, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and unmistakable lust.
You've finally figured out her game. All those times she went out of her way to irritate you, to get under your skin - it wasn't just random bitchiness. No, this pathetic slut has been desperately trying to get your attention the only way she knew how.
"Like what you see?" you growl, slowly stroking your shaft. "This is what you've been after all along, isn't it?"
Gaeul swallows hard, her small breasts rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths. Her nipples are rock hard, betraying her arousal despite her attempts to play innocent.
"I... I don't know what you mean..." she stammers, but her eyes remain locked on your cock.
You step closer, close enough that your cockhead brushes against her flushed cheek. She gasps but doesn't pull away.
"Don't play dumb with me, you little tease. All those times you went out of your way to annoy me, to get under my skin... you were just begging to be put in your place, weren't you?"
Your hand shoots out to grab a fistful of her silky black hair, yanking her head back roughly. She yelps in surprise and pain, but you can see her thighs pressing together, trying to relieve the ache between them.
"Look at you, getting wet just from being manhandled again," you taunt, using your free hand to slap your cock against her cheek. "Such a pathetic little slut. Admit it - admit what you really are!"
"Please..." she whimpers, squirming under your grip.
You tighten your hold on her hair, making her gasp. "That's not what I want to hear. Tell me the truth - tell me why you've been such an annoying little bitch."
Tears form in the corners of her eyes, but they're not tears of fear or pain.
No.
These are tears of shameful arousal as she finally faces what she really is.
"Because... I-I'm sorry… because I wanted this," she whispers.
"Wanted what? Be specific, whore."
"I wanted you to get angry! To put me in my place!" The words burst from her like a dam breaking. "I wanted you to see what a desperate slut I am! Please... please use me..."
You smirk, satisfied with her confession. "That's better. Now open that bratty mouth of yours - time to put it to better use than talking back to me."
Gaeul parts her lips eagerly as you press your cockhead against them. Her tongue darts out to taste you, making your shaft twitch. But you're not interested in letting her take her time exploring.
Gripping both sides of her head firmly, you thrust forward, forcing your thick cock past her lips. She gags immediately as you hit the back of her throat, but you don't let up.
"Relax that throat, slut," you command. "You wanted my attention? Well, now you've got all of it."
You start fucking her face properly, each thrust going deeper than the last. Tears stream down her cheeks as she struggles to accommodate your size, but her eyes are glazed with unmistakable lust.
"Look at you, choking on cock like you were born for it," you taunt as you bottom out in her throat. Her nose presses against your pelvis as you hold yourself deep, cutting off her air. "Is this what you imagined when you were being an annoying little tease? Getting your throat used like a cheap fleshlight?"
Gaeul can only make gurgling sounds in response, drool running down her chin and coating your shaft. You hold yourself there until her face starts turning red, then pull back to let her gasp for air.
"Please..." she begs hoarsely between coughs. "I need more... need you to fuck my pussy too..."
"Oh, you'll get that tight cunt stuffed soon enough," you promise. "But first, I'm going to make sure you never forget what happens to bratty little sluts who don't know how to ask nicely for cock."
You slam back into her mouth, setting a brutal pace that has her gagging and retching around your shaft. Her throat spasms beautifully with each deep thrust, but she doesn't try to pull away. Instead, she grabs your thighs, trying to take you even deeper.
"Such a natural cocksucker," you grunt, watching your dick disappear between her stretched lips over and over. "All that attitude, and all you really needed was to be throat-fucked into submission."
After thoroughly using her mouth, you finally pull out. Gaeul gasps for air, her face a mess of tears, drool, and smeared makeup. Without giving her time to recover, you grab her arms and throw her onto the bed.
"Ass up, face down," you order. "Show me that needy pussy you've been hiding under those baggy jeans."
She scrambles to obey, getting into position and arching her back to present herself to you. Her pussy is absolutely drenched, her inner thighs glistening with her arousal. You run your cock through her soaked folds, coating it in her juices.
"Fuck, you really are desperate for it," you observe. "Your cunt's practically drooling. Beg for it, slut! Tell me how badly you need this cock."
"Please fuck me!" she cries out, pushing back against your teasing shaft. "I need it so bad... need you to fill me up and use me like the whore I am! I've been such a bad girl, teasing you all this time... please punish my pussy!"
You line up with her entrance and thrust in hard, making her scream. Her cunt is incredibly tight, gripping your cock like a vice as you force your way deeper. Each inch stretches her walls, making her whole body tremble.
"Fuck, you really are a desperate little slut," you grunt, starting to pound her roughly. "Your pussy's practically sucking me in. Is this what you've been dreaming about while playing your little games?"
Gaeul moans uncontrollably, her whole body shaking as you ravage her tight hole. Each brutal thrust makes her small tits bounce and jiggle. You reach down to pinch and twist her nipples, making her clench even tighter around your cock.
"Yes! Yes! Harder!" she begs shamelessly. "Use my slutty pussy! Make me your fucktoy! I've wanted this for so long!"
You increase your pace, slamming into her cervix with each stroke. The wet sounds of your cock plowing her needy cunt fill the room, along with her desperate moans and whimpers. Her pussy gets wetter and wetter, practically gushing around your shaft.
"You're going to cum on my cock like the whore you are," you tell her. "Then I'm going to take that virgin asshole too. Going to claim every hole you've got."
Her pussy spasms at your words.
"My... my ass? But I've never... No… it's too big..."
"That tight little hole belongs to me now," you growl, reaching around to rub her clit roughly as you continue pounding her pussy. "I'm going to stretch it out and fill it with cum. Mark you as my personal fucktoy."
Gaeul's moans rise in pitch, her body tensing up as your fingers work her sensitive clit. Combined with the relentless pounding of her pussy, it's quickly pushing her toward the edge.
"Cum for me, slut. Show me how much you love being used like this."
She screams as her orgasm hits, her pussy clamping down hard on your cock. You fuck her through it mercilessly, prolonging her pleasure until she's sobbing and shaking uncontrollably.
Without pulling out, you gather some of her abundant wetness and press a finger against her virgin asshole. She whimpers as you slowly work it inside, her tight ring of muscle resisting the intrusion.
"Please be gentle..." she begs. "I've never had anything in there..."
"You'll take what I give you," you growl, adding a second finger to stretch her tight hole. "This ass is mine now, just like the rest of you."
You finger-fuck her thoroughly, making sure she's ready for your cock. Her whimpers of discomfort gradually turn to moans of pleasure as her body adjusts to the new sensation. You can feel her pushing back against your fingers, hungry for more.
Finally, you pull out of her pussy and press your cockhead against her stretched asshole. "Deep breath, slut. Here comes your first assfucking."
You push forward slowly but steadily, watching your cock disappear into her virgin hole. Gaeul cries out, clutching the sheets as you stretch her wider than your fingers did. Her whole body trembles as you claim her last untouched hole.
"That's it, take it all," you encourage as you sink deeper. "Such a good little anal slut... taking cock in your virgin ass like you were made for it."
When you're fully buried in her ass, you pause to let her adjust. Her whole body is shaking, caught between pain and pleasure as her tight hole stretches around your thick shaft.
"Move..." she finally whispers, her voice thick with need. "Please... fuck my ass... make me completely yours..."
You start with slow, shallow thrusts, gradually building up speed and depth. Her tight hole grips your cock beautifully, sending waves of pleasure through you. Each stroke becomes easier as her body accepts the invasion.
"Look at you, taking cock in your virgin ass like a natural," you taunt, watching your shaft disappear into her stretched hole over and over. "You really are just a complete whore, aren't you? Born to take cock in all your holes."
"Yes, sir!" she moans, pushing back to meet your thrusts. "I'm your whore! Your anal slut! Please fuck me harder! Use my ass!"
You grant her wish, picking up the pace until you're properly fucking her ass. The sight of your cock plunging in and out of her stretched hole is incredible. You reach around to play with her dripping pussy, finding her clit swollen and sensitive.
"You're actually getting off on having your ass fucked," you marvel, feeling how wet she still is. "Such a perfect little fucktoy... getting your virgin ass stretched and loving every second of it!"
Gaeul can only moan in response, her body rocking with each thrust. You can feel her getting close to another orgasm, her holes clenching rhythmically around your cock and fingers.
"Cum for me again," you order, rubbing her clit faster. "Cum while I fuck this tight ass. Show me what a complete slut you've become."
Your fingers work her sensitive nub as you pound her ass, and soon she's screaming through another intense orgasm. The way her asshole spasms around your cock pushes you closer to your own climax.
"Where do you want my cum, slut?! Tell me how you want me to mark you as mine."
"In my ass!" she begs desperately. "Please cum deep in my ass! Fill me up... make me yours completely! I want to feel your hot cum inside me!"
You grab her hips with both hands and start fucking her ass with abandon, chasing your release. Her tight hole feels amazing, squeezing and milking your cock perfectly. Each thrust makes her whole body shake, her moans getting louder and more desperate.
"Take it all," you grunt as you finally explode, flooding her ass with hot cum. "Every last fucking drop... marking this tight hole as mine forever..."
You stay buried deep as you empty yourself inside her, making sure she takes every drop of your seed. When you finally pull out, cum immediately starts leaking from her gaping hole, running down her thighs in thick rivulets.
Gaeul collapses onto the bed, thoroughly used and satisfied. Her holes are red and swollen, leaking your cum and her own juices. You give her ass a hard slap, making her jump and moan weakly.
"From now on, you're mine," you tell her firmly. "No more bratty behavior - unless you want another lesson like this one. Understand?"
She looks back at you with glazed eyes, cum still dripping from her well-fucked ass. "Yes, sir... I'll be good, I… fuck… I promise..."
“Too busy catching Pikachus to catch some pussy, huh? What a shitty stereotype…”
"I thoug-"
“Shut up. Answer me: still think I'm a virgin?" you ask with a smirk.
She laughs weakly. "Definitely not. Fuck, I'm not gonna be able to sit right for days.”
"Good." You give her ass one final smack, making her yelp. "Maybe next time you'll think twice before talking shit.”
"Maybe," she grins. "Or maybe I'll just have to keep provoking you."
You grab her hair, pulling her in for a rough kiss. "Careful what you wish for, little slut. I might just have to teach you another lesson." She moans into the kiss. Your lips move down to her neck, where you leave a few bite marks, just so she remembers you when she looks in the mirror later. "The others will be back soon," you remind her. "Better clean yourself up before they see what a whore you really are."
Gaeul struggles to sit up, wincing at the soreness in her ass.
You head back to the living room, leaving her to clean up the mess you made of her. When you settle back on the couch and pick up your phone, the Pokemon game is still running.
A few minutes later, Gaeul emerges, walking down the stairs with a certain distrust in her expression, wearing fresh clothes, but walking with a slight limp. She sits gingerly on the opposite end of the couch, unable to meet your eyes.
"Something wrong?" you ask innocently. "You're usually so talkative."
She squirms uncomfortably. "Shut up..."
"That's not very nice, Gaeul." You give her a warning look. "Do we need another lesson already?"
Gaeul's eyes go wide and she quickly shakes her head. "No! Not now! I-I mean... I'll be good."
"That's what I thought." You turn back to your game with a satisfied smile, knowing you've finally found the perfect way to handle your bratty tomboy bully.
The sound of cars pulling up outside announces the return of your friends. Gaeul quickly tries to fix her messy hair and straighten her clothes, but there's no hiding the fresh bite marks on her neck or the slight tremor in her hands.
"Hey guys, we're back with pizza!" calls out one of your friends as they enter the house. "Hope you two didn't kill each other while we were gone!"
If they only knew.
Your friends pile into the living room, carrying several pizza boxes and drinks. They seem oblivious to the tension in the air or the way Gaeul can barely sit still.
"Everything okay?" one of them asks, noticing Gaeul's unusual quietness. "You seem different."
“I'm fucking fine!”
Gaeul blushes deeply. Your friends look confused but shrug it off, too focused on the food to question further.
As everyone settles in to eat, you catch Gaeul stealing glances at you when she thinks no one is looking. Each time your eyes meet, she quickly looks away, but you can see the mixture of fear and arousal in her expression.
You make sure to sit next to her on the couch, close enough that your thigh presses against hers. She tenses but doesn't move away, especially when you rest your hand on her knee under the pretense of reaching for a slice of pizza.
"So what did you guys do while we were gone?" someone asks between bites.
"Just played some games," you say casually, squeezing Gaeul's thigh. "Taught Gaeul a few new things."
She nearly chokes on her pizza, earning concerned looks from your friends. "Are you okay?" they ask as she coughs.
"Fine," she manages to say. "Just... went down the wrong way."
You smirk, knowing exactly what went down her throat earlier. Your hand slides higher up her thigh, making her squirm.
The rest of the evening passes in a blur of pizza, conversation, and subtle torment as you continue to tease Gaeul under the radar of your oblivious friends. Every touch makes her jump, every whispered comment makes her blush.
Now you understand why she teases you.
It's so fucking pleasurable.
When everyone finally starts heading home for the night, you hang back, pretending to look for your phone. As the last friend leaves, you corner Gaeul in the kitchen.
"Think you learned your lesson?" you ask, pressing her against the counter.
She nods quickly, her breath catching as you lean in close. "Yes... I won't be mean anymore."
"Good girl." You grab her ass roughly, making her gasp. "But just to make sure it sticks..."
Before she can protest, you spin her around and bend her over the kitchen counter. Your hand slides into her shorts, finding her already wet.
"Fuck, you're soaked again," you growl in her ear. "Did you get turned on sitting there in front of everyone, knowing what a whore you are?"
"Please," she whimpers. "They might come back..."
"Better be quiet then." You pull her shorts down just enough to expose her ass and pussy. "Wouldn't want them to see their tough tomboy friend being used like a fucktoy."
You unzip your pants and line up with her entrance, sliding into her still-tight pussy in one smooth thrust. Gaeul bites her lip to keep from moaning as you start fucking her against the counter.
"Such a good little slut now," you grunt, gripping her hips. "Amazing what a proper fucking can do to fix an attitude problem."
Your pace increases, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the kitchen. Gaeul's legs shake as she tries to stay quiet, small whimpers escaping despite her best efforts.
You reach around to rub her clit while you pound into her, feeling her pussy clench around your cock. Her whole body trembles as another orgasm approaches.
"Please," she whispers desperately. "I'm so close..."
"Cum for me," you command, working her clit faster. "Show me what a good girl you can be."
Gaeul buries her face in her arm to muffle her scream as she cums hard, her pussy spasming around your shaft. You fuck her through her orgasm until she's practically sobbing from overstimulation.
Just as you're about to cum, you pull out and spin her around, forcing her to her knees. "Open your mouth. Take your reward like a good slut."
She obeys immediately, looking up at you with those big eyes as you stroke your cock. With a grunt, you explode all over her face, covering her in thick ropes of cum.
"Don't move," you order as you tuck yourself away. "I want to remember you like this - on your knees, covered in my cum, finally learning your place."
Gaeul stays still, cum dripping down her face onto her chest. She looks thoroughly debauched and completely submissive.
"Clean yourself up," you say, heading for the door. "And remember - any time you start acting like a bitch again, this is what happens."
As you leave her house, you can't help but smile thinking about how different things will be now. The dynamic between you and Gaeul has shifted completely - no more will she bet the untouchable tomboy who loves to torment you. Now you know what she really needs, what she's been craving all along.
You sit in class, bored as fuck scrolling through your phone under the desk. A notification pops up - it's from Gaeul. Your heart skips a beat seeing that familiar contact name. Opening the message, you nearly drop your phone - this crazy bitch sent you a pic of her tight ass with an anal plug inserted, taken in what looks like the girls' bathroom. The caption reads "Missing your fat cock stretching me out... meet me after class? 😈"
You adjust yoursel in secret, already getting hard remembering how you bent her over your desk yesterday and fucked her tight ass until she was begging for more. It still amazes you how things changed between you two. For months she tormented you - calling you names, tarnishing your image at college, making fun of you in front of your friends…
Until that one day you finally snapped.
Now here you are three months later, sexting during class while pretending nothing's changed in public, with a phone full of filthy videos and pictures of your former bully. Videos of her fucking herself with toys, close-ups of her stretched holes, clips of her begging for your cock. On the surface she still acts tough, but you know the truth - she's just a needy anal slut who craves being dominated.
Your phone buzzes again - another pic from the bathroom, this time showing her fingers buried in her dripping pussy. "Can't wait anymore... Come fuck me NOW!!"
You raise your hand, making up some bullshit excuse about feeling sick. The professor waves you out and you practically run to the second floor bathroom where you know she's waiting. The halls are empty since class is still in session.
You slip inside the second floor bathroom and there she is - still in her typical tomboy getup of baggy jeans and oversized hoodie. Her short hair is slightly messy and her cheeks are flushed. The contrast between her tough exterior and what you know lies underneath makes your cock throb.
"Took you long enough, nerd," she smirks, but you can see the desperate hunger in her eyes. Her tough girl act doesn't work on you anymore - not since you discovered what a submissive little slut she really is.
"Shut the fuck up," you growl, grabbing her by the throat and slamming her against the cold tile wall. She gasps, her pupils dilating with lust. "Sending me pictures like that while I'm in class... you're such a desperate whore."
"Hmm, maybe I am," she taunts, grinding against your obvious bulge. "What are you gonna do about it?"
You tighten your grip on her throat, using your other hand to roughly grope her small tits through her clothes. Even through the baggy fabric you can feel her hard nipples. "I'm gonna remind you exactly who owns this body."
"Big talk from a ne-" Her words cut off in a moan as you spin her around and bend her over the sink, yanking those loose jeans down to her thighs. She's not wearing any underwear, the slut. The metal plug glints between her ass cheeks, just like in the picture she sent.
"Look at you, walking around with a plug in your ass like a proper anal whore." You give her pale ass a hard slap, leaving a red handprint. "Bet you've been thinking about my cock all morning."
"Fuck... yes..." she admits, dropping the attitude as you start playing with the plug. "Haven't stopped thinking about it since last night..."
You slowly twist and pull the plug, watching her asshole grip the metal. "Tell me what you want. I want to hear the tough tomboy beg."
"Please..." she whimpers as you pop the plug out, her hole gaping slightly. "Need your cock in my ass..."
"Not good enough." You spit on her exposed hole and start working one finger in while she squirms. "Be specific. Tell me exactly what you need."
"I need... fuck..." A second finger joins the first, stretching her wider. "Need you to fuck my ass raw... need you to remind me what a slut I am..."
"Keep going." Three fingers now, roughly fucking her loosened hole while she pants and moans. "Tell me how this nerd turned you into such a whore."
"You... ah!... you showed me what I really am..." Her pussy is literally dripping onto the floor as you finger-fuck her ass. "Showed me that I'm just a cockhungry anal slut... please, I need it so bad..."
"Need what?" You curl your fingers, making her gasp.
"Need your fat cock stretching my ass! Need you to fuck me like the worthless whore I am! Please, I'll do anything!" She's practically sobbing now, all traces of her usual attitude gone.
You pull your fingers out and quickly undo your pants, letting your rock hard cock spring free. "Look at yourself in the mirror while I fuck you. I want you to watch yourself break."
Her eyes meet yours in the reflection as you line up with her gaping hole. Without warning you thrust all the way in, making her cry out. The sound echoes off the bathroom walls but you don't care - you need to put this bratty bitch in her place.
"Fuck! So big..." she moans as you establish a brutal pace, watching your cock disappear into her tight asshole over and over. She tries to muffle herself by biting her sleeve but you grab her hair and yank her head up.
"No. I want to hear every slutty sound you make. Let everyone know what a whore you are." You reach around to roughly pinch her nipples through her hoodie. "Who would believe that the tough tomboy loves taking it up the ass?"
"Only... only for you..." she pants, her whole body shaking as you rail her. "You're the only one who gets to use me like this..."
"Damn right." You pull almost all the way out before slamming back in, making her yelp. "This ass belongs to me. I fucking own you."
Your words make her moan even louder. You can see in the mirror how completely wrecked she looks - face flushed, eyes glazed, mouth hanging open as she takes your cock. Such a different sight from her usual cocky expression.
"Touch yourself," you command. "Play with that dripping pussy while I destroy your ass."
She immediately reaches down to rub her clit, her fingers moving frantically. The extra stimulation makes her ass clench around you even tighter. "Gonna... gonna cum soon..."
"Already? Such a slutty response." You increase your pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the bathroom. "Cumming from getting your ass fucked in a public bathroom... what would your friends think if they could see you now?"
"Don't care... fuck... just don't stop!" She's openly crying now, tears of pleasure running down her face as you pound her mercilessly.
You grab her hips hard enough to bruise and really start hammering into her. Each thrust makes her whole body jerk forward, her small tits bouncing under the hoodie. "Come on then, cum for me. Show me what a buttslut you are."
Her orgasm hits hard - her ass spasms around your cock as she practically screams into her sleeve, her legs shaking so bad you have to hold her up. You don't slow down, fucking her through the intense climax.
"Good girl... but we're not done yet." You pull out suddenly, making her whine at the emptiness. "On your knees. Time to remind you what you're good for."
She drops to her knees immediately, looking up at you with those desperate eyes. Your cock is right in her face, still slick from her ass. Without being told, she opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue.
"That's right, taste yourself like the dirty slut you are." You slap your cock against her tongue a few times before shoving it down her throat. She gags but takes it like a champ, months of practice evident in how she relaxes her throat.
You grab her short hair with both hands and start properly facefucking her, using her mouth like a pussy. Tears stream down her face and drool drips from her chin but she doesn't try to pull away. If anything she moans around your cock, clearly loving the rough treatment.
"Look at me while I use your throat," you command. Her eyes lock onto yours, full of submission and need. "Such a good little fucktoy... so different from the bitch who used to bully me..."
She reaches down to play with herself again as you fuck her face, two fingers buried in her soaking pussy while her other hand works her clit. The sight of the former bully masturbating while choking on your cock pushes you closer to the edge.
"Gonna cum... gonna paint that pretty face..." You pull out of her mouth, still gripping her hair. "Stick out your tongue and beg for it."
"Please..." her voice is hoarse from the throat fucking. "Please, babe, cum on my face... mark me as your whore... I need it..."
You stroke yourself rapidly, aiming at her upturned face. "Here it comes slut... take it all..."
Your orgasm hits like a truck, shooting thick ropes of cum all over her face. Some lands on her tongue but most covers her cheeks, nose, and forehead. She moans as you mark her, still frantically fingering herself.
"Don't you dare wipe it off," you pant as the last drops fall onto her lips. "I want you to remember who owns you."
She nods, face completely glazed with your seed. "Yours... all yours..."
You tuck yourself back in while she stays on her knees, cum slowly dripping down her face. "Clean yourself up and get back to class. But leave the plug in - I want your ass ready for round two later."
"Yes sir," she says softly, finally dropping the last pretense of attitude.
As you head for the door, you turn back for one last look. She's still kneeling there, face covered in cum, jeans around her thighs, asshole gaping slightly.
Such a perfect sight.
"Oh and Gaeul?" You smirk as she looks up at you. "Try not to be such a bitch for the rest of the day. Or I'll have to teach you another lesson."
She shivers at the threat, clearly already looking forward to it. "No promises... might need another reminder later."
You leave her there to clean up, already planning how you'll use her next. Who would've thought that all it took to tame the tomboy bully was a good ass fucking?
The bell rings as you head back to class, already getting hard again thinking about round two. Maybe you take her home and fuck her in your bed, or if she can't wait that long, an empty classroom will do just as well.... The possibilities are endless when you have such an eager anal whore at your disposal.
Later that week, you're hanging out with friends at the campus coffee shop when Gaeul suggests everyone come to her place to watch something.
The movie blares on the TV screen, flickering shadows across the room. Your friends are all sprawled out, zoned in, eyes glued to the action unfolding. But you? You’re only half-paying attention because Gaeul's sitting beside you, her hand resting a little too close, fingers drumming against the couch arm. Every slight touch feels like electricity shooting through your veins.
Then she shifts, stretches out her arms with a feigned yawn. "I'm grabbing something upstairs," she mumbles to the room. No one even looks up. She rises, tossing a quick, knowing glance your way before slipping out. Your cock throbs in your pants as you watch her walk away, her ass moving in those intentionally short shorts.
You count to sixty slowly before making your own excuse.
"Just gonna grab another beer," you say casually. No one even looks up from the TV.
Perfect.
Your heart pounds as you climb the stairs, already imagining how you're going to wreck that tight ass. The door to Gaeul's bedroom is slightly ajar, warm light spilling into the hallway. You open the door slowly and there she is, sitting cross-legged on the bed, waiting for you, her ankle bouncing impatiently.
“I thought you’d never show up,” she says with a smile.
Without wasting any time, you approach and spin Gaeul around and roughly bend her over the edge of the bed, yanking her panties down in one swift motion. Your cock throbs at the sight of her tight little asshole already glistening with lube - this dirty slut came prepared, knowing she was going to get her ass destroyed tonight.
"Fucking horny little whore," you growl, giving her ass a hard slap that makes her yelp. "Already lubed up and ready for my cock. Bet you've been thinking about this all day."
"Please," she whimpers, pushing her ass back toward you. "Need it so bad..."
You unzip your pants and pull out your rock-hard cock, giving it a few slow strokes as you admire her puckered hole. Your free hand spreads her ass cheeks wider, making her squirm with anticipation.
"Beg for it," you command, rubbing your cockhead teasingly against her entrance. "Tell me exactly what you want."
"Fuck, please... need your fat cock in my tight little asshole," she pants desperately. "Want you to stretch me open and wreck my ass while everyone's downstairs. Please fuck me like the anal slut I am!"
You press your thick tip against her hole, watching it start to stretch around your girth. "Such a dirty fucking whore, begging to get ass-fucked with your friends right below us. What would they think if they knew their tough tomboy friend was really just a cock-hungry buttslut?"
Gaeul moans as you start pushing into her impossibly tight hole. The lube helps, but her ass still grips your cock like a vice as you feed more and more of your length into her. You can feel every ridge and fold of her inner walls clinging to your shaft.
"Holy fuck, you're so tight... No matter how many times I ruin your ass, it always looks like virgin territory," you grunt, gripping her hips harder. "That little asshole is squeezing my cock so good."
"More," she gasps, biting down on her pillow to muffle her sounds. "Fill me up, stretch my ass open!"
You continue pushing forward until your balls are pressed against her dripping pussy. Your entire cock is buried in her ass, making her feel completely stuffed and stretched. You hold still for a moment, savoring the incredible tightness.
"That's it, take every inch like a good little anal whore," you growl in her ear, reaching around to roughly grope her small tits. Her nipples are rock hard between your fingers. "Ready to get that ass pounded?"
"Yes! Please fuck me hard," she begs in a desperate whisper. "Wreck my tight hole!"
You pull back until just the tip remains inside, then slam forward balls-deep in one brutal thrust. Gaeul lets out a choked cry into the pillow as you establish a rough rhythm, your cock pistoning in and out of her stretched asshole.
The wet sounds of anal sex fill the room - the obscene squelching of lube, the meaty slap of your balls against her pussy, the muffled moans she can't quite contain. Her whole body rocks with the force of your thrusts as you hammer into her tight hole.
"Fuck yes, take that cock," you grunt, watching your shaft disappear over and over into her gripping asshole. "Love seeing this tight little hole stretch around my fat cock. Such a perfect anal slut."
You grab a handful of her hair and yank her head back, making her arch her spine. The new angle lets you drive even deeper into her ass, hitting spots that make her whole body tremble.
"Harder!" she gasps, pushing back to meet your thrusts. "Fucking destroy my ass, make me your buttslut!"
You respond by increasing your pace, absolutely ravaging her tight hole. Your heavy balls slap against her soaking wet pussy with each thrust. She's so turned on that her juices are running down her thighs.
"Look at you, getting your pussy all wet from taking it in the ass," you taunt, reaching down to rub her swollen clit. "Such a nasty little whore, getting off on having your asshole stretched open."
Gaeul can only whimper and moan in response, completely lost in the pleasure of being used. Her ass grips and pulses around your cock, trying to milk the cum from your balls.
The sound of footsteps in the hallway makes you both freeze. Your cock throbs inside her stretched hole as you hold perfectly still, hardly daring to breathe. The footsteps pause right outside the door.
Your hand clamps over Gaeul's mouth as you stay buried balls-deep in her ass. You can feel her heart pounding, her asshole clenching even tighter around your shaft from the fear of getting caught.
After what feels like an eternity, the footsteps continue past the door and fade away down the hall. As soon as they're gone, you resume fucking her even harder than before, driven wild by the close call.
"Dirty fucking slut, almost got us caught," you growl, punctuating each word with a brutal thrust. "Maybe I should let them catch us, let them see what a cock-hungry anal whore you really are."
She shakes her head frantically but her pussy gushes at the thought, coating your balls in her juices. The way her ass grips you tells you she's getting close to cumming.
"That's it, squeeze that cock with your tight little hole," you grunt, feeling your own orgasm building. "Gonna flood this ass with cum, mark you as my personal buttslut."
Your fingers work her clit faster as you pound her stretched asshole. Gaeul's whole body starts to shake as she approaches her peak. Her inner walls clamp down almost painfully tight around your thrusting cock.
"Cum for me," you command. "Cum with my fat cock buried in your ass like the anal slut you are!"
She explodes around you, her orgasm making her squirt all over the bed as her ass spasms around your shaft. The intense tightness pushes you over the edge and you grunt as your cock swells.
"Take it, take my fucking load," you growl as you empty your balls deep in her ass. Rope after rope of hot cum floods her stretched hole while she continues to shake and moan through her own orgasm.
You keep thrusting through both your climaxes, making obscene squelching sounds as your cum starts leaking out around your cock. Her ass is still rhythmically clenching, milking every last drop from your balls.
When you finally pull out, her gaping asshole immediately starts leaking your thick load. You watch mesmerized as white cum drips down her thighs and pools on the bedspread below.
"Holy fuck," Gaeul pants, collapsing onto the bed. Her hole is still twitching and leaking, thoroughly used and marked as yours. "That was so fucking good..."
You give her ass one slap, admiring the way it makes more cum leak out. "That's what happens to me when you keep teasing me all day long. Get your ass stretched and filled with cum while your friends are right downstairs."
She shivers at your words, reaching back to feel her gaping, cum-filled hole. "My ass is gonna be so sore tomorrow…”
"Yeah, and you love it, don't you?!"
Your cock gives an interested twitch as you watch her finger herself, scooping some of your cum out of her stretched hole. To your surprise and arousal, she brings her cum-covered fingers to her mouth and sucks them clean.
"Dirty fucking slut," you growl, feeling yourself starting to harden again already. "You really can't get enough, can you?"
She grins up at you, still tasting your cum on her tongue. "What can I say? You've turned me into such a whore for your cock. Especially in my ass."
You grab her hair and pull her up for a rough kiss, tasting yourself on her lips. Your rapidly hardening cock presses against her stomach as you devour her mouth.
"Ready for another round already?" she asks breathlessly when you break apart, feeling your erection growing. "Gonna wreck my ass again?"
"Fuck yes," you grunt, spinning her around and pushing her face-down into the mattress. "Gonna use this tight little hole until you can't walk straight tomorrow."
You spread her ass cheeks, admiring how her gaping hole is still leaking your previous load. The sight of your cum dripping from her stretched asshole has you rock hard again in seconds.
"Please," she whimpers, wiggling her hips invitingly. "Fill me up again, use me like your personal anal slut!"
You line your cock up with her cum-lubed hole and push back inside with one smooth thrust. She's still incredibly tight despite being stretched and filled with your load.
"Fuck, love how this greedy little hole just swallows my cock," you growl, starting to pound her ass again. "Such a perfect little anal whore, always ready to take it in the ass."
The mixture of cum and lube makes obscene squelching sounds as you fuck her stretched hole. Your previous load leaks out around your shaft with each thrust, running down her thighs.
"Yes! Use my ass, wreck my tight little hole!" she moans into the pillow. "Love being your anal slut!"
You grab her hips and really start hammering into her, making the bed creak dangerously. Her whole body bounces with the force of your thrusts as you ravage her sensitive hole.
Your balls slap against her dripping pussy, already coated in a mixture of her juices and your leaking cum. The dirty sounds of anal sex fill the room once again.
"Such a nasty little whore," you grunt, reaching around to pinch and twist her hard nipples. "Getting your ass fucked twice while your friends are right downstairs. Bet you love the risk of getting caught, don't you?"
"Yes!" she gasps, pushing back to meet your brutal thrusts. "Love being your secret anal slut, love taking your fat cock in my tight little ass!"
You pull her up by her hair until her back is pressed against your chest, changing the angle of penetration. Your cock drives even deeper into her stretched hole as you fuck up into her.
"That's it, ride this cock like the buttslut you are," you growl in her ear, one hand around her throat. "Show me how badly you need it in your ass."
Gaeul starts bouncing on your cock, working her hips in tight circles that make her ass grip you like a vice. Her small tits bounce with each movement as she impales herself on your shaft.
"Gonna cum again," she whimpers after a few minutes of riding you. "Please make me cum with your cock in my ass!"
You throw her back down onto the bed and really start drilling her stretched hole, pounding her g-spot through her ass wall. Your fingers find her clit again, rubbing quick circles as you ravage her.
"Cum for me, you dirty anal whore," you command. "Cum all over my cock while I wreck this tight little asshole!"
She explodes around you for the second time, her whole body convulsing as she squirts all over the already-soaked bed. Her ass clamps down painfully tight on your thrusting cock.
The incredible tightness pushes you over the edge again. You bury yourself balls-deep in her spasming hole as your cock swells and pulses.
"Take it, take another load in this slutty ass," you grunt as you empty your balls inside her again. Rope after rope of hot cum floods her already-full hole while she continues to shake through her own orgasm.
When you finally pull out, her thoroughly used asshole gapes obscenely, leaking a river of white cum onto the bed. She collapses face-down, completely fucked out and marked as yours.
"Holy fuck," she pants, reaching back to feel her destroyed hole still leaking your loads. "Fuck, I'm gonna be leaking your load all night now."
"Next time I'm gonna make you wear a plug to keep my cum inside you," you tell Gaeul as you lay down next to her, catching your breath. "Make you sit through the whole movie feeling your ass full of my load."
She shivers at the thought, clearly turned on despite being thoroughly fucked out. "Fuck, I don't think I've ever been as naughty as I am with you now...." After a moment, she rolls over to face you with an unusually serious expression. "Hey... I need to tell you something," she says quietly. "I'm getting tired of hiding this. Hiding us."
Your heart skips a beat. "What do you mean?"
"I mean... fuck, this started as just casual sex after you put me in my place that day. But somewhere along the way I actually started having deep feelings for you." She looks away, clearly uncomfortable with the vulnerability. "And I'm sick of pretending I don't."
You're quiet for a long moment, processing this. "I feel the same way," you finally admit. "Have for a while now."
Her eyes snap back to yours. "Really?"
"Really." You pull her closer. "I love how you try to act all tough, but I know what a needy little slut you really are. Love making you fall apart on my cock. But I also just... love being around you. Even when we're not fucking. I love when you laugh at my jokes now, much better than when you pretended not to like them. I always thought your laugh was cute."
A genuine smile spreads across her face - not her usual cocky smirk. "So what do we do about it?"
"Well, we could tell everyone we're dating," you suggest. "No more sneaking around."
"Mmm..." She pretends to consider it. "Or we could keep this our dirty little secret for a while longer. The sneaking around is pretty hot."
You grin and squeeze her ass. "True. Nothing like fucking you with the risk of getting caught."
"Exactly." She kisses you deeply. "Let's give it another month of secret fucking. Then we can go public."
"Deal." You slap her ass playfully. "Now get dressed before they come looking for us."
She quickly pulls her clothes back on, wincing slightly. "I don't know how I'm going to be able to sit in the chair tomorrow in class."
"Good." You zip up your pants. "Something to remember me by while you study."
You head back downstairs first, trying to act casual as you rejoin the group. A few minutes later, Gaeul returns with a bowl of chips like nothing happened.
But you catch her squirming uncomfortably on the couch, feeling your cum leak out of her ass. The secret knowledge of what you just did makes your cock start to stiffen again.
She notices and gives you that familiar smirk. You know you'll be sneaking off to fuck again before the night is over. Maybe this time you'll bend her over the bathroom sink and stuff her pussy full of cock while she tries to stay quiet.
The thought of all the secret hookups to come over the next month has your head spinning. Every stolen moment will be even hotter now that you know there are real feelings involved.
But for now, you focus on the movie and try not to make it obvious that you just railed your friend's ass upstairs.
The perfect crime - except for the cum still dripping down her thighs.
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nicholasgoodgirl · 3 months ago
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that was mean- nicholas
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summary: nicholas was having a bad week and gave you the silent treatment.
warning: argument, crying, happy ending
a/n: i couldn't stop thinking abt this no joke. so ofc i had to write it out
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from late at night till he left early this morning for work nicholas has been either quiet rude or both.
we haven't spoken to eachother or not even silents acts of love. nothing.
he cut his alarm clock off and i tried to give him a hug before he got out the bed and he pushed me off of him "not right now" he grumbled and got out of bed
when he left for work i said 'bye' to maybe break the silence shared between us, but i got no response. it was starting to get lonely. i missed my bestfriend that was also my boyfriend
i had nobody to mess with or someone to talk to about my day.
to stop these lingering thoughts i go back to bed to maybe get my mind off of things.
--
i wake up around 8 am which was later than the time i usally woke up around, but today was sorta a lazy day.
it was gloomy not much sun was shining, it rained a little here and there. it was more of a slow day for me so the extra rest was very much needed
i text my boyfriend forgetting about the whole silent treatment ordeal.
me: how's your day going so far?? :)
and to no suprise i was left on delivered and soon left on seen. i messaged him periodically throught the day; hoping that maybe he would reply
it was almost time for dinner which normally nicholas cooks cause he's just better at it, but i didn't know when he was coming home or if he would even do it, so i look up some quick easy recipes and nothing struck my fancy but the pizza recipe. cause how hard could it really be?
i put a packet of yeast into my bowl along with some flour, water, oil, and salt. i let that sit for 30 minutes then im back to cooking again.
spreading flour onto the counter and placing the dough onto it; kneading it into a circle shape. this was harder than i thought
i look around for the marinara sauce and i put it into a different bowl and add a few light seasonings.
i paste that onto the dough, then i sprinkle some alot of cheese onto the pizza and my additional toppings bell peppers, spinach, and mushrooms.
i was so proud of myself especially sense i wasnt the cook, out of me and nicholas. i was really excited for him to try what i made but again i highly doubt he would even eat the food.
i put the pizza away into the oven completely forgetting to set a timer and put on a movie while i wait.
--
a smell of burning was the first thing that woke me up. "shit shit shit" i repeat totally freaking out remembering i left the pizza in the oven.
i get a rag and ineffectivley wave smoke out the air. when i open the oven it smelled horrible. i was coughing from all the smoke that had entered my lungs.
i take the burning pizza out and throw it into the sink, and hose it down with the water.
thats when i hear the front door open and mentally face palm. "what's that smell?" he asks "i kinda burnt a pizza that i tried to make"
"of course you did" he mutters sounding unimpressed. "and the fuck you mean 'kinda' you obviously did burn a damn pizza" he gestures to the chunk of charcoal burnt pizza
"it's not like i did it on purposes or something if thats what you think" my tone sounding a bit confronting.
"It's smells fucking horrible so open a damn window first off" he took a step closer raising his voice.
"you don't pay for shit so i don't understand why you almost had this place in flames secondly. then you also wanna blow up my phone while im working for crying out loud what do you want from me!" he yelled directly in my face
and im sure he knows by now i hate being yelled at. it's something my parents did and overall doesn't solve anything
i just take it, i didn't wanna fight so i go over to the nearest window and crack it open so the smoke clears.
my eyes watered from all the harsh words he could dish out but not the equal amount of attention "well.. you are- when i was.. ugh s'not my fault" i couldn't get a full sentence out. i felt so belittled in this moment
"im going to bed i don't have time for your stupid ass shit" those words hurt more than he thinks.
he had the most patience for me, always making time for us and now he doesnt.
"that's so mean.. you're being so mean" i wipe some tears that had fallen. i turned away from him silently crying.
the peices of my hair stuck to my tear-soaked cheeks. "wait- I'm sorry please don't cry" nicholas' voice was filled with regret.
i lazily push him away from me but he doesn't budge. his arms wrap around me bringing me into his familiar embrace. "I'm so sorry for being an asshole. I've been having a long shitty week and i know thats not an excuse so you don't even have to forgive me."
"you're everything to me. i swear i didn't mean it." he adds
the unforgettable cruel words he'd said to me earlier shoved ontop of his sweet loving words made me cry more.
i let him hold my trembling body as sobs tore through my chest, each inhale was ragged and uneven.
my hands clutched the material of his shirt "im so sorry sweetheart i never wanna make you cry" he explains in such a low voice, giving my hair strokes in attempt to calm me.
my face still burried into his neck tears now starting to dry away, and my breathing starting to even out. he carried me over to the couch and placed me in his lap
i was drained from all the crying, the tense feeling in my body beginning to melt away when i really started to feel nicholas' touch. my eyes drooped again this time staying shut for longer.
i was too tired to resist the sleep that had tooken over. and being cradled in his arms didn't help.
"I'll order pizza for the both of us alright?" he took me off of his lap and placed me on our couch. then lays one of our throw blankets ontop of me. "can we talk in the mornin'?" is the last thing i remember asking before dozing off.
a/n: can yall tell idk how to make pizza
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remlionheart · 2 months ago
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⊹ ࣪ ˖☁️ daydreaming about...
𓆩♡𓆪aged up characters, MDNI𓆩♡𓆪
sweet boyfriend yuuji who is just so proud to be yours. he's standing with a group of friends, aimlessly talking and laughing when he sees you walk out of your dorm, his attention immediately stolen by the way your sundress hugs your hips. "damn, do you see her?" like he hadn't just walked you to class thirty minutes earlier in the same outfit. "she's so pretty, isn't she?" even after a year of dating, you still manage to leave him awestruck every time he sees you.
sweet boyfriend yuuji who purposefully leaves lots of extra clothes at your house. at first, he said it was just so that he didn't have to bounce between your apartment and his as much, but after stopping by late one night and seeing you curled up on the couch in nothing but his hoodie and a pair of knee-high socks, he suddenly abandoned nearly all of his clothing at your place instead, absolutely enamored by how cute you looked walking around with his t-shirts hanging off of your shoulder.
sweet boyfriend yuuji who knows all of your favorites- from snacks to pizza toppings to your longwinded coffee order that he rattles off like a pro in the drive-through, not missing a beat when asking for two extra pumps of vanilla with oatmilk and a strawberry cakepop, though the cakepop usually ends up with a bite mysteriously missing out of the side of it by the time it gets to you.
sweet boyfriend yuuji who sincerely loves listening to you yap. your coworker said what to her boyfriend? and he didn't even deny it? "oh, he's so guilty- he's not even trying to hide it at this point!" yuuji scoffs, completely enthralled by the gossip though he's never met either one of these people in his life. he's always asking you questions though, always encouraging you to keep talking. always wanting to know all the little details of your world, no matter how big or how small.
sweet boyfriend yuuji who looks up at you as he pulls your underwear to the side, light flickering through his golden stare as his fingers begin to carefully dip into you. "aw, does it feel that good, baby?" he has to bite back a smile at how pouty your nod is, your walls desperately clenching around him. "so wet already," he muses, his mouth suddenly hovering over your center. "you must've really missed me today, huh?" a cute little yelp escapes you as he finally leans in to give you want you want, flattening his tongue against you in a way that makes both of you moan. "yeah, i can tell."
sweet boyfriend yuuji who grabs onto the headboard for support as his hips meet yours, letting out the prettiest, headiest noises. "where do you want me, baby? show me." he pants, eyes glazing over as he watches you place your hand on your tummy. "right there? you sure?" you can barely get out an "mhmm" though before he's thrusting back into you- so attentively and so deeply, the two of watching together as the thick outline of his bulge begins to swell against your skin, his mouth dropping open at how overwhelmingly good it feels. "that's my - girl."
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pucksandpower · 11 months ago
Text
Theories of Relativity
Charles Leclerc x Reader
Summary: you don’t need TikTok theories to prove that your relationship is a dream come to life, but it doesn’t hurt when your boyfriend passes all of them with flying colors
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The Olive Theory
When you love someone, you have to be willing to make sacrifices and compromises for them (even if those sacrifices are something small like pretending to hate olives just so you can give them to your olive-loving partner instead)
You sit across from Charles at the long dinner table, smiling as he animatedly recounts the race from last weekend. His hands wave through the air, punctuating his story as he describes the final lap battle with Max down to the last corner. You’re only half listening though, too distracted by how handsome he looks in his dinner jacket, his tanned skin glowing in the low light of the restaurant.
As Charles pauses to take a sip of wine, you lean in and whisper, “I wasn’t really watching the race, I only had eyes for you.”
Charles chuckles, his nose crinkling adorably. “Oh really? So you missed all the action then?"
You shrug, trailing a finger down his arm. “What can I say, I find you far more interesting than the other cars going around in circles.”
Charles opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted by a mechanic sitting a little way down from you. “Oi Charles, why do you keep picking all the olives out of your salad?"
You look down, noticing the small pile of olives Charles has stacked onto the edge of his plate.
Charles glances at you, a faint blush rising on his cheeks. “Oh, um, I’m not a huge fan of olives.”
The mechanic frowns in confusion. “But I’ve seen you eat olives before. You always get them on your pizza.”
“I, uh ...” Charles stammers, clearly flustered.
Under the table, you squeeze his hand reassuringly. Charles looks at you and you give him a small nod.
“Well, the truth is,” Charles says, turning back to the mechanic. “I actually love olives. But Y/N loves them even more than I do. So I pick them out of my food to give to her.”
You smile softly at Charles, warmed by his thoughtfulness. The mechanic chuckles and shakes his head. “You two are so cute it’s almost gross.”
Charles just grins and pops an olive into your mouth. “Anything for mon amour.”
You crunch the olive happily, then lean in to give Charles a quick kiss on the lips. “People who say chivalry is dead have simply never met you.”
The conversation moves on, flowing from racing to travel and everything in between. Under the table, your fingers stay intertwined with Charles’ the whole time.
After dinner, you all head outside into the cool night air. Charles’ team members head off towards their own cars, calling out goodbyes.
You snuggle into Charles’ side as you walk towards where his Ferrari is parked. “Thank you for the olives,” you say. “But you really don’t have to deprive yourself on my account.”
Charles wraps his arm around you, pulling you close. “I want to though. I like making you happy.”
You stop next to the car, turning to face him. Running a hand down his chest you say, “You know what would really make me happy right now?"
“Hmm?" Charles murmurs, his eyes drifting down to your lips.
You grin mischievously. “A stop for gelato on the way home.”
Charles laughs and opens the car door for you. “Anything for you, mon cœur.”
The Bird Test
If you say something that could be deemed insignificant and your partner responds with genuine curiosity, that’s a really good sign that your relationship will last a long time
The Brazilian sun beats down as you wander hand-in-hand with Charles along the edges of the Interlagos circuit. It’s the day before qualifying, and Charles brought you out to the track in São Paulo to share the grid walk with you.
You stroll slowly, enjoying a rare private moment together during the hectic race weekend. Charles points out details along the track — the tricky off-camber Turn 3, the sharp left-right complex at Turns 5 and 6, the long full throttle blast down the back straight.
You love seeing him so in his element here, his passion for racing evident in his voice and gestures.
As you round Turn 12, heading down the home straight, a flash of bright blue in the trees catches your eye. Gasping in excitement, you grab Charles’ arm and point.
“Look, a hyacinth macaw!”
Charles follows your gaze to the large, vividly colored parrot perched in the branches. “Wow, that’s amazing! I’ve never seen one outside of a zoo.”
You bounce on your toes, thrilled at the sighting. “Aren’t they gorgeous? That bright blue is unreal. Macaws are pretty rare around here, I can’t believe we spotted one!”
Charles smiles at your obvious delight, then turns back to observe the macaw with curiosity. “What do they eat?" He asks. “Fruit, like other parrots?"
“Yes exactly!” You reply eagerly. “Mostly palm nuts and acai berries. And they need a huge range of territory, something like 80 square kilometers.”
As you chat more facts about the brilliant bird, Charles listens attentively, asking more questions and commenting on its beauty. His genuine interest and engagement makes your heart flutter happily.
Eventually the macaw takes flight, its bright wings flashing blue against the trees as it disappears into the forest.
“Incredible,” Charles murmurs, watching it go. “What an amazing thing to see.”
He turns back to you, eyes shining. “Thank you for pointing it out, I never would have spotted it myself. I love seeing you so excited teaching me about something you’re passionate about.”
You step closer, looping your arms around his neck. “And I love that you always listen and want to know more, even if it’s not about racing.”
Charles wraps his arms around your waist, smiling tenderly. “Of course, your passions are my passions now too. I want to know everything that sparks that beautiful light in your eyes.”
The Orange Peel Theory
A partner’s willingness to perform small acts of service is indicative of a healthy relationship
Early morning sun filters into the kitchen as you sip your coffee, still wearing the oversized Ferrari shirt you slept in. Charles stands at the counter across from you, freshly showered and humming to himself as he browses his phone.
Setting your mug down, you grab an orange from the fruit bowl and start to peel it. Or at least you try. The tough rind puts up a stubborn fight, your nails scraping uselessly against it.
“Ugh, I hate peeling oranges,” you grumble after a minute. “Whose idea was it to make the peel so impossible?"
Charles glances up with a sympathetic smile. “Here, let me.”
He takes the orange from your hands and deftly digs his thumb into the top, effortlessly tearing the peel away in one long curl.
You watch in admiration as he strips the rest of the orange until it’s completely naked and ready to eat.
“Voila,” Charles presents it with a flourish. “One perfectly peeled orange for mon ange.”
“My hero,” you grin. You go to take it from him but Charles playfully keeps it out of reach.
“Ah ah, allow me,” he says. Holding your gaze, he gently pulls apart one glistening segment and brings it to your lips.
Happiness bubbles up in you at this sweet, unexpected gesture. You let Charles pop the orange slice into your mouth, savoring the bright citrus burst.
“Delicious,” you murmur. Charles smiles and leans in to kiss you softly, his thumb brushing a drop of juice from your lower lip.
One by one he continues to peel the segments and feed them to you, interspersing each with tender kisses that taste of orange and love.
You close your eyes blissfully, letting the sensual ritual relax you. Charles takes his time, not rushing. He knows this is your favorite part of the morning, stealing these private moments together before the busy day sweeps you both up.
When the last segment is gone, Charles kisses you again, deeper this time. You loop your arms around his neck, melting against him.
“Have I mentioned how much I love you?” you whisper when you finally separate.
Charles nuzzles your nose with his. “You may have said it once or twice. But I never get tired of hearing it.”
You lean into him contentedly. As always, his thoughtfulness and care warms you from the inside out.
Peeling an orange is such a small act but the meaning behind it speaks volumes. Charles knows your quirks and preferences, and cherishes these little opportunities to make your day brighter.
The little things that mean everything.
You’re still musing dreamily about this when Charles tips your chin up. “Where’d you go just now?” He asks with a curious smile.
You shake your head, focusing back on him. “Just thinking about us. And how perfectly you peel my oranges.”
Charles laughs. “Well I’m glad to be of service. I know how you hate getting orange string stuck under your nails.”
He kisses your fingertips one by one. “Can’t have anything marring these beautiful hands.”
You scrunch your nose at him. “Oh yes, I need to keep my hands soft and dainty in case a prince comes along to propose.”
Charles squawks in protest and tackles you against the counter, fingers digging into your sides to tickle you mercilessly. You dissolve into helpless giggles, swatting him away.
“No no, stop! I take it back!” You gasp.
Charles relents, holding you close and nuzzling into your hair. “Too late, you’re stuck with me now,” he murmurs, kissing your temple.
You snuggle into him contentedly. No fantasy prince could ever compete with the reality of Charles.
The Invisible String Theory
An invisible string connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstance (the string may stretch or tangle but it will never break)
The living room is filled with laughter and happy chatter as you and Charles sit surrounded by both your families. Your wedding is only two days away, and his mother suggested gathering everyone together one night for reminiscing and quality time.
Looking through old photo albums is proving to be hilarious and heartwarming. Baby pictures, school plays, family vacations — memories preserved to embroider the story of your lives before fate brought you together.
Charles smiles wistfully as Lorenzo shows an album from their childhood. “I wish my godfather and father could have met you,” he says softly. “They would have loved you so much.”
You take his hand, leaning your head on his shoulder. His lost loved ones are always close to his heart.
Your mother passes an album to you with a smile. “Oh this one is from our trip to France when you were five! So many cute little Y/N photos.”
You roll your eyes but obligingly open the album, Charles peering over your shoulder. You flip through pictures of your younger self building sandcastles on the beach, wearing a hilariously large sun hat, beaming gappily with missing front teeth.
Charles grins down at you. “Adorable. I can’t wait for our kids to-”
He stops abruptly, staring down at the page. You follow his gaze to a photo of your family in Nice, taken in front of the Le Negresco hotel. And there in the background, almost out of frame — four familiar figures walking down the promenade.
A young Charles holds the hand of a teenage boy you immediately recognize as Jules. On Charles’ other side, his father Hervé carries a toddler Arthur.
Your breath catches sharply. The families fall silent around you. Charles’ fingers tremble slightly as they trace over the image.
“Of course we went to Nice often,” he whispers. “I had no idea ...” His voice trails off, thick with emotion.
Arthur cranes his head to see. “Is that us? With Papa and Jules?" He looks between you and Charles with wide eyes.
“Almost twenty years ago,” Lorenzo marvels. “And your paths were already crossing.”
Pascale wipes at her eyes, grasping Charles’ other hand tightly. “It was meant to be. Some invisible string tying you together even then.”
Charles’ fingers tremble as they trace over the image. For one brief, impossible moment, it feels like you’re all together — you, Charles, Jules, Hervé. Preserved in time, intersecting at the crossroads of past and future.
Though you never met in life, somehow you were all bound in that instant, tied by invisible strings of destiny. Strings that would one day guide you and Charles to each other.
It’s only a photo, yet looking at it you feel Jules and Hervé’s presence like a bittersweet embrace. As if across the years, they’re saying we know you. We love you. We’re so happy for you both.
You stare down at it, this captured moment of impossible synchronicity. A glimpse of the thread that wove itself silently through your lives until the day it finally drew you together.
Charles meets your eyes, his own shimmering with tears. Without words, you know he feels it too. The impossible link stretching back through time. Proof you were always meant to find each other.
He pulls you close, kissing the top of your head. “I believe that with all my heart, we’ve always been connected somehow.”
“Soulmates,” you whisper.
You cling to him, overwhelmed with certainty. Through accidents of time and geography, missteps and milestones, your story was always guiding you here.
Meant for each other. Destined, even then.
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xetlynn · 1 month ago
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season 2 claggor x fem reader maybe they get caught making out?? thank you for keeping the tag alive 
of courseee and thank you!!!<3
Arcane Imagines- Claggor
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Summary: in which you and claggor get caught in a lil steamy moment.
“We’ll see you guys later!” Powder and Ekko wave goodbye, leaving our home to go out on a well-needed date. Claggor, Mylo and you tell them to have fun and enjoy themselves. You bring your legs up on the couch, playing around with your necklace. “Welp, this is boring. I’m leaving.” Mylo stands up, grabbing his jacket. He doesn’t even say anything when walking out the door.
 
Claggor and you turn to one another before chuckling. “We have the house to ourselves it seems.” He smiles. The corners of your lips doing the same movement. “What should we do?” You ask, holding onto your knees. The two of you had recently started dating after being friends since you two were children. You were raised by a close friend of Vander’s and Benzo’s. You had grown close with the others, especially Powder, being best friends. Claggor was her older brother and it felt weird to go after him but then he pursued you. It was kept a secret from the others and still is. You didn’t know how to tell Powder you were dating Claggor at all. Not knowing how to bring it up. 
“Want to cook?” He proposes and you purse your lips, shrugging your shoulders as if to say “why not.” He stands up from his chair, going over to you to help you up. 
You lead the way to the kitchen. “Pizza?” You tilt your head, opening the fridge. “Sounds good.” He hums, getting the cutting board out along with the flour and oil. You grab the cold ingredients. 
“I hope it turns out better than when Mylo did it.” You comment, throwing the stuff on the counter. Claggor laughs, “I don’t think we’d have the skill to catch the pizza on fire and only burn the inside.” He shakes his head, remembering when Mylo woke everyone screaming that there was a fire. “Fun times.” You whisper. 
You leave the room momentarily to put on some music before joining back. “Alright, let’s start.” You roll your sleeves all the way up to wash your hands before actually touching anything. Claggor had already done that when you left the kitchen. 
The two of you start off together before you get distracted by the song that came on. Dancing around the room, pretending to smack your boyfriend’s butt. He didn’t mind taking care of the pizza, this usually happens when you cook. In the middle of it you’d get bored or distracted by something small. Forgetting about the ingredients on the counter. 
“Alright, did you preheat the oven?” He asks suddenly, already knowing the answer though. You forgot to do it. Your arms drop to your sides with a frightened expression. He bursts out laughing. “It’s okay, babe. I figured you wouldn’t have.” He kisses your forehead and you frown. “Rude.” You cross your arms and look away. “But true.” You mutter. He gets the oven started and you both watch it heat up, leaning on the opposite counter. 
“Sorry.” You say sadly, upset that you can’t have the pizza sooner. “It’s okay, I promise.” He snorts, pulling you into his chest, hugging you. “I’m so hungry.” You whine, tugging on the chest of his shirt. 
“Same, but it’s only going to take a couple minutes.” He says, but right as he says that the oven dings meaning that it’s done heating up. He lets me go and you  open the oven door for him as he grabs the pizza and sets it in. Shutting the oven. 
“Set the timer.” He points over to the tiny little timer next to the oven on your side. You set it to twenty-five minutes, clapping your hands after placing it down. Since you two had some time you decided to go back to the couch and cuddle for a little bit. You were snug between the cushion and partly on top of him. Legs tangled together. He pets your head as you stare at the coffee table. Only thinking about how good his fingers feel on your scalp. 
He stops after a couple minutes, staring down at you. “You’re very pretty, y’know.” He compliments, you lift your head to look at him. “Really? Say more.” You tease making him snicker. “I could compliment you all day.” His hands travel down to your waist, rubbing up and down. “I’d love to hear just a few.” You cross your arms on his chest to rest your chin on them. 
“You’re very smart even though you get easily distracted.” He begins and you pout. “Not off to a good start.” His body shakes under you with laughter. “Sorry, sorry.” He apologizes. 
“You are incredibly kind, I don’t understand why. Kind to people who don’t deserve it. Also just beautiful. Your inside matches the physicality and not a lot of people can say the same.” He tells you. “So nice on the eyes. More than nice. I love admiring you.” His hands start to get lower and lower on your back/ hips. “An amazing kisser.” He raspily says when his face gets closer to yours. 
“You think so?” You hum, eyes flickering between his lips back to his eyes. “I know so.” He pecks your lips. You slowly move your legs so that you are straddling him now. You butt right above his crotch. 
“Let’s make sure I’m truly right though.” He sits himself up a little more and kisses you. 
You moan into the kiss, lips cushioning one anothers. You press further onto him, gripping his shirt for dear life. “Mm, you drive me crazy.” He musters taking a small breather before getting right back to making out. His tongue licks your bottom lip, begging for entrance. You open your mouth allowing it. 
He takes it and battles with your own tongue. Going back and forth not even noticing the fact that the front door opened. 
You move his hand from your back down to your ass before bringing your own hand to the back of his neck. Not wanting to let him go. He grips your clothed flesh. You pull a little bit on his hairs on the back of his head on accident, getting a low groan in response, vibrating your lips. His free hand is holding you tightly by your waist. Making sure you were right against his torso. 
You do it for another time to take another breather, but really it was because you wanted to do something more. “Wow!” A voice laughs from the corner of the living room, startling you both. You jump off of Claggor. “In the family room!?” Ekko grips onto his stomach with laughter as Powder was trying to bite her own giggles. Claggor and your faces flushing tremendously. “I- sorry.” You put your head down, not believing that neither of you heard the door open or close. 
“We already knew about you two, don’t worry.” Powder puts her purse on the hook. “You guys made pizza?” Ekko excitedly asks, heading to the kitchen. 
“It’s not… done yet.” You say, not understanding why they’re home from their date not even an hour into it. “Oh can’t wait to eat it then.” He chuckles from the kitchen. Powder smacks her brothers back, plopping down on the couch. “Have fun there, didn’t ya.” She teases him. He rolls his eyes. 
“[Name], you okay? You look mortified?” She asks me and you turn to her, blinking slowly. “You knew?” 
“Of course we knew, you two are not discrete… whatsoever.” She smirks up at you. “And you just let me think you didn’t know!?” You cry out, hiding your face in your hands in embarrassment. “Mm I knew you’d tell me when you wanted to or I’d “find out” like this.” She uses finger quotations then does a hand motion to the room. 
“At least we don’t have to hide it anymore, babe.” Claggor stands up, rubbing your back. “Doesn’t stop the shame I am feeling right now.” You turn into his chest, still hiding your face. 
“Bleh, babe.” Powder mocks, playfully gagging. “Oh you can’t be talking, sweetie.” Ekko sits down beside his girlfriend and you turn to see her face turn red. “Shut up.” She looks away. 
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flickering-chandelier · 8 months ago
Text
Was Any Of It True?
Pairing: badboy!Azriel x goodgirl!Reader
Summary: Modern/College AU! Az’s on-again-off-again girlfriend gives Azriel a proposition: make the new bookworm fall in love with him, then break her heart, in exchange for anything he wants. He agrees, but things get complicated when he falls for Reader for real.
Based on this request! 🩷
✨ Part 2 ✨ Part 3 ✨
Warnings: angst, sexual language?, swearing, Azriel & friends being assholes
Word Count: 10.2k   oh lord sorry besties I couldn’t shut my little brain off
“I'm telling you, Az, she's pissing me off. The professor loves her, and I saw that she got a 100 on the exam,” Claire was seething while she and Azriel lounged in his apartment, eating the pizza he'd ordered.
“Mhmm,” he mumbled around his pizza, only half listening. Claire was always complaining about something. “And what did you get?”
“98! He took two points off because I didn't answer thoroughly enough,” she scoffed. “God, I hate her. She's going to push me right off the top of the Dean's list.”
Azriel blinked. “I mean, you'll still be very near the top of the list.”
Claire groaned, throwing her napkin onto her paper plate angrily, “That's not good enough!”
He rolled his eyes and she glared at him. “Don't be an ass! This is a big deal to me.”
“Oh, I know it is. This girl is all you talk about.”
“Because I hate her. Maybe if she got laid, she’d be distracted enough to slip up once in a while,” she grumbled.
“Yeah, maybe,” Azriel said, pulling his laptop out of his backpack and setting it on the table, a sufficient signal that he didn’t want to talk about his girlfriend’s arch nemesis anymore. 
No more than a week later, Azriel’s on-again-off-again girlfriend was off-again, and honestly, he was relieved. Claire’s obsession with being at the top of the academic food chain was bordering on insanity, and he was glad he didn’t have to hear about it anymore.
He was currently at a house party that Cassian had dragged him to, with a blonde girl that he couldn’t remember the name of sitting in his lap, one of her arms draped behind his neck, the other resting on his chest. She had been whispering in his ear all the things that she wanted to do to him, before Cassian interrupted, handing Azriel a shot with a grin. 
Blondie scowled at Cassian, who just smirked back as the girl that Cass had been talking to earlier sidled up next to him, wrapping her arms around his middle. 
Azriel knocked the shot back and handed the cup it had come in to the blonde girl. “Can you get me another one?”
She seemed annoyed, but took the cup from him anyway, striding into the kitchen. 
“Sorry for interrupting,” Cassian said, settling on the couch next to him, before pulling the girl onto his lap.
Azriel rolled his eyes. “Like I give a shit.”
Cassian snickered as the blonde girl came back, draping herself in his lap again, handing him another shot. He drank it, just as Claire appeared before him, her arms crossed over her chest, and her brow furrowed.
“What do you want?” he asked, his voice husky.
“I have a proposition for you.”
He smirked, making a show of tightening his grip on the blonde girl’s waist. “No, thanks. Been there, done that.”
“Not that kind of proposition, you idiot. Can we talk privately? I think it’ll be worth your while,” she said, her lips turning up into a sultry smile.
“I don’t know, Claire, I’m pretty busy right now,” he said, turning his gaze to the blonde girl, squeezing her thigh. She sighed dreamily, leaning further into him.
Claire groaned. “Look, Az, I really need your help. Please?” 
Azriel studied Claire, and he could see that it was true. She was wearing her most annoyed, don’t-fuck-with-me face, but her eyes were pleading. Sad.
He sighed, glancing apologetically at the girl in his lap before turning back to Claire. “Fine, we can talk.”
She led him into someone’s empty bedroom and shut the door behind her. 
“If this is about that girl you’re obsessed with, so help me,” he said. She winced, and he threw his head back. “Unbelievable. Claire, I don’t want to hear about this anymore! I don’t care about your problems.”
“Just hear me out!”
He crossed his arms over his chest, and raised an eyebrow at her, waiting.
“She actually is threatening my spot on the Dean’s list now,” she said, looking close to tears.
He looked pointedly at her. “And?”
“And I was thinking about what I said earlier… about how if a really hot guy was interested in her, maybe she would stop caring about her grades so much,” she said, smiling at him now.
“And?” Azriel just wished she would get to the point.
Claire sighed, exasperated. “I need you to seduce her.”
Azriel barked out a laugh, leaning his shoulder against the nearest wall. “You’re kidding, right? Why would I do that?”
She stepped closer to him, trailing a finger along his chest, her touch feather-light through his black t-shirt. She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, “Because I asked? Because I’ll give you anything you want,” she said, her voice dropping seductively.
He held her gaze, leaning down until their mouths were a breath away. Azriel heard her breath hitch.
Then he pulled away rapidly, and she blinked. “Sweetheart, you know I can fuck you anytime I want, right? That is not going to persuade me to help you.”
Her brow furrowed, her nose scrunching up. Oh, she was furious. Azriel's mouth turned up into his calculated half smile.
“What do you want, Az?” she huffed.
“Hmm,” he said, taking his time to think. Claire scowled. “I haven’t decided yet. But when I need to call in a favor of my own, you have to promise to do it. No matter what,” he drawled.
To her credit, she really looked like she was thinking it through, trying to think of another way to push this girl off the list. But finally, she sighed. “Deal.”
He pushed off the wall, walking towards the door. “Alright, so I just have to seduce the bookworm? Easy.”
Claire shook her head, her eyes still alight with her anger. “No, if I’m going to agree to any favor you could possibly want, you’re going to have to go further. You need to make her fall in love with you.”
Azriel bristled a bit, leaning against the door now. “I know I’m an asshole, but that seems too far, don’t you think?”
“No. If she’s going to be distracted enough that her grades will slip, you need to make it seem real,” she said, and then smiled as if she had a wicked thought.
“What?” Azriel asked.
“And then you break her heart, right before exams,” she said excitedly, her eyes burning with enthusiasm now. “You tell her, in front of everyone, that it was all fake.”
He rubbed at his bicep, a nervous tic that Claire picked up on immediately. “Jesus, Claire. I don’t want to ruin this girl’s life.”
She arched her brow. “Why not? She’s ruining mine.”
Azriel rolled his eyes and Claire pounced, “Any favor, Az. Any time, you can tell me to do whatever you want,” she smirked. 
He groaned, pinching his nose. “Fine,” he ground out. “Where do I find her?”
Claire beamed. “Where else would a nerd be? The library, of course.”
---
You shifted in your seat, starting to feel sore after poring over your notes for hours. Maybe you should go for a walk. Maybe. But, you still had so much to do…
Groaning, you crossed your arms on the table, laying your head down on top of them. Just a minute, you just needed a tiny break --
“Studying always makes me feel like that, too,” said a low, male voice. 
You lifted your head, bewildered, and nearly choked on your own spit. The guy who was for some reason deigning to talk to you was… well, what other way was there to say it? He was drop-dead gorgeous. 
His face was stoic as he sauntered up to your table, his jet black hair was just a tad unruly, his hazel eyes burning into yours. But it was his body that made the breath completely escape your lungs. He was dressed in all black, his t-shirt hugging his chest and his biceps, showing off his every muscle, and there were swirling black tattoos peeking out from under his sleeves. 
All you could do was stare as he took the seat across from you, leaning back with his arms crossed like the two of you did this every day.
“What class is that for?” he asked, nodding to the textbook open in front of you, the dozens of papers scattered around you.
“Organic Chemistry,” you said, trying to sound like you were normal and not completely surprised by this handsome stranger finding you in your favorite quiet corner of the library.
He let out a low whistle, “Damn, you are smart.”
“What, did someone tell you I was?” you asked. 
“No, I just figured when I saw all the --” he gestured to your cluttered workspace, “homework stuff.”
You arched an eyebrow. “Homework stuff?”
His mouth turned up the slightest bit, holding up his hands like he was surrendering. “You caught me. I’m not much of an academic.”
“Then what are you doing here?” you asked curiously.
“Now, that is an excellent question,” he said, and really did seem like he was questioning it. “Girls? Parties? Though I could get girls anywhere and I don't particularly enjoy parties.”
You nodded. “Ah,” you said. “Got it.”
He braced his arms on the table, leaning forward. “I take it you’re not into that kinda thing?”
A dry laugh escaped from your throat, “Definitely not. I’m really only here for the--” you mimicked his gesture from earlier, “homework stuff.”
He barked out a laugh, his stoic face completely transforming for the briefest of moments. You couldn’t help but stare. “You’re telling me all you do is study? A beautiful girl like you? Please tell me you’ve been to at least one party,” he said, looking at you incredulously. 
You blushed. “No, I haven’t been to any.”
You braced yourself for impact, for the teasing or insults to come, but he just smiled softly. “You wanna go to one with me tonight?”
Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “You don’t even know my name.”
The side of his mouth quirked up into a smile, his eyes dancing with amusement. “What's your name?”
Rolling your eyes, you told him.
“Nice to meet you. I'm Azriel.” He raised his eyebrows, “So? Party?”
“I thought you just said you don't like parties!”
“True, but I do love the thought of corrupting a sweet, innocent bookworm,” he smirked.
“No, thanks.” You couldn't imagine yourself going to a house party, especially not with a stranger.
Azriel's cool-guy demeanor seemed to drop the slightest bit. “Why not?”
You looked at him pointedly. “I don't know you. And I have no interest in being corrupted. Why do you want me to come to this party so badly anyway?”
He shrugged casually. “I like you.”
“You don't know me!”
“See, that, right there,” he snapped his fingers and pointed at you. “You're funny. Smart, beautiful. What's not to like?”
You forced yourself to hold his gaze, even as a blush rose to your cheeks. “I'm not going to a party with someone I don't know. They make true crime documentaries about that sort of thing.”
He seemed to contemplate that for a moment. “Okay, you make a fair point. What do you want to do then?”
“What do you mean?”
“You can pick our first date, since you didn't like my idea.”
“What date?” You blanched.
He arched an eyebrow. “Our first date? Weren't you listening?”
You studied him for a moment. For the life of you, you could not figure out what this guy's angle was. 
As if reading your mind, he said softly, “Look, I just saw you and thought you were really pretty, and that it looked like you could use a break from studying. That's it,” he held his hands up again. “I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. If you want me to go, I'll go.”
For a beat longer, you watched him, his body language, his ridiculously pretty face. What was the harm, really? You sighed, tore off a scrap of paper from your notebook, scribbled out your number, then handed it to him. “I need to study. If you text me later, I'll let you know where we're going on the first date.” 
His face broke out into what might have been the first genuine smile you'd seen from him. He took the paper from you, his fingers brushing against yours.
“Can't wait.”
You were half expecting to never hear from Azriel again. But just a few hours later, as you were eating dinner in your apartment, your phone chimed with a text. 
Az: Done studying yet?
It was an effort to bite down your smile. 
You: Taking a break for dinner. 
It was less than a minute before he responded. 
Az: Dinner? Is that what our first date is going to be?
You didn’t try to hide your smile this time.
You: A little cliche, don’t you think?
Az: Oh, absolutely. So… what are we doing?
You: Meet at the tennis courts at 7 tomorrow?
Az: We’re playing tennis?
You: No, but I’m not giving you my address. And I’m not giving away the surprise.
Az: So smart. So mysterious. I’m swooning.
You: Shut up.
Az: See you tomorrow ;)
You tossed your phone to the side, forcing yourself to focus back on your schoolwork.
The following day you parked your car by the empty tennis courts on campus just before 7. It was early spring; the weather finally started to warm up enough to not be too chilly in the evening. Still, you rubbed your arms nervously. You were starting to regret this. You didn’t know this guy at all. What if it went horribly wrong?
Before you could contemplate bailing, a familiar figure rode up on a jet black motorcycle. Of course this guy had a motorcycle. You couldn't see his face underneath the helmet, but you would already recognize those tattooed arms anywhere. 
He parked his bike, smoothly sliding off it and taking his helmet off before sauntering over to you. “Hey, beautiful.” 
You rolled your eyes, sure that he had said that to a million girls on a million dates before.
“What? Don’t do that,” he said softly, his smile softening and his gaze raking down your body. “You are beautiful.”
“Thank you,” you said quietly, giving in. 
“So,” he said, towering over you. “What’s the plan?”
You smiled. “How’s your mini golf game?”
He raised an eyebrow, looking a little skeptical. “Mini golf? That’s what you’re choosing?”
“Yes, it is. Do you have something to say about that?” you teased. 
His eyes sparked at the tone in your voice. “Nope. Nothing at all.” He nodded to his motorcycle. “You wanna hop on the bike?”
You looked pointedly at him and he laughed. “Didn’t think so,” he gestured to your car. “Lead the way.”
Your nerves started to dim as the two of you fell into a rhythm going through the course. The two of you were just talking and laughing like it was normal. It was… fun, actually.
“Shit,” Azriel muttered as he overshot the hole. Again.
You laughed and his eyes flicked over to you, lingering a bit. “You’re good at this, bookworm,” he said as he took another shot, sinking it into the hole this time. You watched, leaning against your putter, having finished that hole two shots ago. 
Shrugging, you said, “I used to go with my family a lot.”
He placed his hand on the small of your back as you walked to the next hole. You cleared your throat, focusing on your steps, on your breathing, on anything but how it felt to have him touch you so casually. “What about you?”
“What about me?” he asked as you dropped your ball onto the green. 
You took your shot before you answered. The ball landed just shy of the hole. “What’s your family like?”
“My family…” he trailed off, clearing his throat, setting up his shot. He paused to look at you for a moment before he swung. “It’s complicated.”
He hit the ball and it stopped right next to yours. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” you said, as the two of you walked further down the hole.
“No, you didn’t. It’s just… I don’t really talk about them with anybody.”
You nodded, not sure where to go from here.
Azriel smiled reassuringly, nudging you lightly with his shoulder. “Stop worrying.”
“I’m not worrying,” you claimed, your voice an octave too high. 
“You are. I can tell.”
You bit your lip to hide your smile as you sunk your ball into the hole.
“I think I’m going to need some pointers from you on the next hole,” he grumbled. 
“I guess I could help you out,” you laughed. 
So, when you got to the next hole, the last hole, he stepped so close that your bodies were nearly touching. You tried to control your breathing. 
“You’re gonna help me out?” he murmured, his eyes flashing down to your lips for a moment. 
“Okay,” you breathed. 
He stepped behind you, his body pressed against your back, wrapping his arms around you, his hands covering yours on the club. 
“How is this going to help you, exactly?” you asked, your voice slightly unsteady. 
His lips brushed your ear as he said, “Oh, trust me, it’s helping.”
You couldn’t say anything. Could hardly breathe.
“What do you think I’m doing wrong?” He murmured. 
You swallowed. “You’re hitting it too hard. Not exactly rocket science.”
“Mmm. That makes sense. I do tend to go… hard.”
That finally had you coming to your senses. You stepped out of his grasp, turning back to glare at him when you were a safe distance away. 
The side of his mouth turned up into a smile. “Sorry. I couldn't help myself.”
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him again. “Just take your shot.”
He smirked at you for a moment, before he swung, and the ball went right into the hole. 
He turned to you, his eyes wide. You laughed and he hugged you, picking you up and spinning you around. 
You let out an involuntary squeal of surprise, and he laughed, gazing into your eyes as he set you back on the ground. “Thanks for the help.”
“I think you’ve been playing me this whole time,” you joked. 
His smile fell a little, his eyes sobering. 
“What’s wrong?” you asked. When he just stared at you, his expression unreadable, you added, “Azriel, I was joking.”
He blinked and then his natural, stoic expression was back as he took a step closer to you. “Right. I think you’re just a good teacher.”
You just looked at him, trying to decipher the changes in his mood, who he really was underneath the gruff exterior.
He smiled faintly, stepping even closer. “What are you thinking about?”
You had to crane your neck to look him in the eye now. “I'm trying to figure out what you're thinking about.”
Azriel's smile turned into a smirk. “I'm thinking… that I really want to kiss you. But I don't want to scare you away.”
Heat flooded your face and his smile turned softer as he cupped your cheek gently with a rough hand. “Would it scare you away?” He murmured.
“I -- don't know,” you said honestly.
His hazel eyes dipped to your lips and stayed there. “I think I'm gonna have to take the risk,” he said, his voice low, husky.
“I think so, too,” you breathed.
His free hand slinked around your waist, gently pulling your body into his. Your heart thundered in your chest as he leaned down, slowly bringing his lips to yours. He seemed to give you a moment to process, and you felt him smile against your mouth when you started to kiss him back, your fingers curling around his bicep, his shoulder.
You were breathless by the time he pulled away, and as the two of you drove back to the tennis courts, you couldn't help but hope that it would happen again by the end of the night.
When you parked your car near his motorcycle in the abandoned lot, he lingered, his gaze holding yours, dropping to your mouth again.
He shot you a crooked smile. “Aren't you gonna walk me to my bike?”
Rolling your eyes playfully, you got out of the car, walking over to the motorcycle and settling against the fence near it, crossing your arms over your chest. “Happy now?” You asked.
Slowly, he sauntered over to you, his eyes twinkling under the stars. He raised his arm, twining his fingers in the chain link fence above your head, leaning his body towards you, but not quite touching. He gazed down at you, still sporting that half smile. “Very happy,” he murmured.
Your breath hitched and when his smile widened, you knew he heard it. 
He held your gaze as he leaned down, bringing his mouth to yours again. You let yourself fall deeper into the kiss this time, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into you. 
When he finally pulled away, he was grinning. “Want to go for a ride before you head home?” He said, nodding to his motorcycle.
You had stepped far enough out of your comfort zone for today. “Maybe next time.”
He raised his eyebrows in amusement. “So you're giving me a next time?”
Damn. You blushed. “I said maybe.”
“Uh huh, sure,” he said, leaning in again so his lips were barely an inch from yours. “You can't wait to see me again,” he whispered.
You shoved him away lightly and he chuckled, backing up towards his bike, but keeping his eyes on you. “Until next time, then. Have a good night, bookworm.” He winked before putting his helmet on and speeding away.
A few weeks, a few dates, and several kisses later, you couldn't deny that Azriel was on your mind quite a bit.
You had never thought that someone like him would be interested in someone like you, but he seemed to prove time and time again that he did indeed like you. He texted you flirty little things every day, making you blush in class. He asked about your day, and seemed to genuinely be listening, and he would do pretty much anything you wanted on your dates. Last week, the two of you had gone to a local bookstore and he had watched you browse, a small smile on his face. He ended up picking out a book he wanted you to read and you did the same for him. He had been sending you daily updates on his progress through the book. Slowly, you were starting to let your walls down, despite yourself.
So, when he asked you to finally go to a party with him, to meet his friends, you accepted. You still felt cautious: partying had never been something that you were remotely interested in, but you trusted him.
---
Azriel knew he had to tread this next part carefully. Things had been going well with you. He let you take control of your time together so you would be comfortable, and honestly, he was actually having a really good time getting to know you and seeing where you would take him next.
And when you kissed him… God. It was always a struggle to keep his hands on your waist, to stay PG. He wished he could explore things further with you in that regard, but he wouldn't let himself go there. Not when your broken heart was the finish line.
He rarely let himself think about it -- the deal that he had made with Claire. Being with you felt so natural that he usually forgot he was supposed to be acting. That he was supposed to be leading you to Claire’s revenge.
He had convinced you to come to a party, upon Claire's request so she could see the progress he had made with you. You had said yes, he assumed because you trusted him enough now. The thought made his stomach roll. He was really starting to hate himself for getting mixed up in this.
Azriel acted differently around you than he did around the rest of the general population. At a young age he had learned to keep quiet, to not show a single emotion on his pretty face, to be tough, or be punished. 
With you… he couldn't help but smile. Couldn't stop the laughs that he usually stomped down for the rest of the world.
So, having his two worlds collide at this party…he didn't know exactly how to navigate it. Deep down, it made his heart swell that you trusted him enough to help you navigate something so far out of your comfort zone. But if his friends saw the way he acted around you, he would never hear the end of it.
This would be a mess.
If Azriel wasn't leaning against his motorcycle when you exited your apartment building, he may have fallen over. You were wearing skintight jeans and a black tank top that showed more cleavage than he ever imagined he'd see from you. His fingers flexed on his biceps. He wanted to pull you back into your apartment and spend an hour peeling those clothes away inch by inch.
He blinked the lust away, trying to maintain his stoic expression, but failed, as he always did with you. He smiled at you and you smiled back. 
He could tell by the way you carried yourself as you neared him that you were nervous. “Hey, beautiful,” he drawled his usual greeting as you wrapped your arms around his waist in your usual greeting.
“Hi,” you said, a little sheepishly. His eyes must have lingered on your curves a little too long because your eyes widened a bit, and you bit your lip nervously as you pulled away from him. He nearly groaned. “Is it too much? Do I look stupid?”
Azriel placed his hands on your shoulders gently, dipping his head to look you in the eyes. “You look amazing. Seriously.”
You blushed and murmured, “Thank you.”
He had to turn away, to grab your helmet, so you wouldn't see how much you affected him. He fucking loved it when he made you blush like that. 
Azriel turned back to you, holding up the helmet, his eyebrows raising with amusement. “You ready to join the dark side, bookworm?”
You sighed, shifting on your feet. 
“It'll be okay,” he said softly. “I got you.”
You nodded, seeming to resolve yourself, and reached for the helmet with slightly shaking hands.
He helped you make sure it was on correctly, his fingers brushing your chin, your neck. He bit back a smile as you shivered.
Azriel held your hand as you got settled on the back of the bike, showing you where to put your feet, and how to shift your weight with him.
When you seemed at least somewhat comfortable, he slid his helmet on, smoothly setting onto the motorcycle. You wrapped your arms around his middle, pressing your chest into his back. You were already holding him like your life depended on it, and he beamed freely underneath the helmet.
“Hold on tight,” he shot back at you, before he revved the engine, taking off much more gently than he normally would.
He tried not to think about the feel of you pressed into him, how tightly you were holding on. It didn't work. He wanted to drive you everywhere.
He couldn't resist reaching back to briefly squeeze your thigh at a red light. “How are you doing?”
“Good,” you said. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard a smile in your voice.
Too soon in Azriel's opinion, they had made it to the party. He parked, offering you his hand to help you get down.
When he pulled the helmet off your head, he was pleased to see that you were indeed smiling.
“Have fun?” He smirked.
“I did, actually,” you said, sounding a little breathless. 
“Whenever you need a ride, you just let me know,” he winked.
You laughed, glancing behind him at the house. 
He took your hand in his, squeezing reassuringly. You seemed to relax a bit. “We can leave whenever you want, okay?”
Taking a deep breath, you nodded and smiled nervously up at him.
You were doing this for him, he realized. Because he had asked you to. His heart constricted, guilt churning in his gut again as he led you inside, your hand squeezing his tightly. 
His shoulders tightened as he led you through the crowd, making sure you were tucked in close to him. 
“You want a drink?” he asked, as you made your way to the kitchen.
“Sure,” you said.
He rifled through what was on the sticky counter, trying to find something not disgusting for you to drink, making sure you stayed close to him. 
Finally handing you a cup, he put your hand on the small of your back, guiding you to a corner of the living room that wasn’t yet very crowded. He took a seat on the couch and you settled in next to him, tucked closely into his side. 
You smiled, leaning your shoulder into his. “Is this really it?” You asked skeptically. “You just sit here and drink around a bunch of drunk idiots?”
He laughed before he could stop himself. “I mean, yeah, that’s pretty much it,” he said, dipping his head to say in your ear. “Or we could dance. Or make out,” he smiled against your ear. 
You blushed and he laughed again, kissing your temple. 
Azriel wrapped an arm around your shoulders as Cassian and Rhys showed up, grinning at you, their eyebrows raised. Azriel fought the urge to roll his eyes. They had seen him laughing with you, kissing you, he knew. He had nearly forgotten where he was, why he was here with you. He loved them, but he wasn’t sure what they would say to you about him. They didn’t know about his arrangement with Claire, and he had been keeping details about his relationship with you as vague as possible.
“So you’re the one Az has been spending all his time with,” Cassian grinned. 
You smiled sheepishly, leaning further into Azriel. “I guess.”
Azriel nodded to his friends. “This is Cassian and Rhysand. They’ve been my best friends since we were kids.”
He could tell you were intrigued by that. He still hadn’t told you anything about his childhood. 
Before you could ask any questions, Claire showed up next to Azriel’s friends, her expression the very picture of friendship. It unsettled him so much that he held you closer to him, so you were practically on his lap. 
“Hi Claire,” you smiled, and his heart sank. You really had no idea how Claire felt about you. 
Claire smiled back. “Hey. I never expected to see you here.”
“I’m trying new things,” you said, smiling lightly at Azriel.
He couldn’t take it, having you so close to Claire, seeing that trust you had in him when you looked at him. He cleared his throat, standing up and offering you his hand. You took it, smiling politely at Claire and his friends as he led you through the house, out to the backyard. 
“Is everything okay?” You asked, looking up at him curiously as he leaned his back against the side of the house.
“Yeah,” he said, unable to stop the smile that rose to his face as you gazed at him with your big doe eyes. He tugged you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I just wanted you to myself for a minute.”
“Oh yeah?” you flushed, and before he could stop himself, he kissed your cheeks, feeling the heat against his lips before his lips met yours in a slow, sensual kiss.
He was still kissing you when he heard Cassian snickering close by. “Oh shit, he’s whipped.”
Azriel rolled his eyes as he pulled away from you, but kept his hold on your waist. “How am I whipped?”
Cassian’s eyes gleamed with mischief and Azriel’s heart started to pound. “Sneaking out here on your own. You’re usually content to stay on the couch to make out with your girl of the week.”
Your body tensed in his arms and Azriel groaned internally, glaring at Cassian, who smirked. “Oh, she didn’t know? My bad, Az.”
Azriel’s expression was enough to send Cassian back inside. 
Your brow furrowed as you stepped back, out of his reach. “Girl of the week?”
He winced. “He’s being dramatic.”
You raised your eyebrows, glaring at him, crossing your arms over your chest. 
It was kind of adorable, but Azriel reigned in that comment. He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, look. I told you when we met that I go to parties and meet girls there. But things are different now,” he said, taking a step closer to you. And it was true. Things were different. You had been the one haunting his thoughts since that first date. He had barely looked at anyone else since.
After a moment, you sighed, and he knew you wouldn’t resist when he wrapped his arms back around you. 
“Cassian’s an idiot,” he murmured, his focus back on your lips that he was dying to kiss again.
“So I’m not the girl of the week?” you said quietly, your eyes on his lips now. 
He smiled. “We’ve been seeing each other for several weeks, haven’t we?”
You nodded, biting your lip, before you stood up on your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips. Azriel was surprised by his own relief. “Are we going back inside?” you asked. 
“Not if you don’t want to,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist again. 
Pursing your lips in thought, you said, “Mmm. Let’s go back in.”
“Yeah?” he said, surprised.
You smiled up at him, resting your chin on his chest. His heart melted. “I’m trying to be brave.”
He kissed your forehead, smiling faintly. “I’m proud of you, bookworm.”
You beamed, your whole face lighting up. 
Azriel led you inside, his hand on the small of your back, trying to manage the swell of emotions in his chest. He didn’t have the time to process them right now. 
The two of you mingled throughout the party for a few hours, and you even went so far as to dance with him for a bit, your body pressed against his, your hips swaying to the beat of the pounding music. He could hardly believe it, the way you let loose with him.
He stopped in the bathroom before the two of you left. He wasn’t gone for more than a few minutes, but when he returned, he spotted you near the kitchen, backing away from a guy who was clearly very drunk and very horny. Azriel saw red. 
Before he could take a second to think, Azriel was upon the bastard, punching him in the jaw. 
He heard you yelp. The asshole staggered back, swearing, his hand cradling his jaw. Azriel barely spared him a glance, his hands gently holding either side of your face, his gaze raking your body, searching for any sign that he had touched you. 
Your eyes were wide, your breathing labored, but you seemed physically fine. “Are you okay?” he asked. 
You nodded, your eyes still frantic. 
He wrapped his arm around your shoulders as he led you outside. Claire caught his eye on the way out, hers shining with delight. He scowled at her. 
When you made it outside, he hugged you to his chest. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” 
“I shouldn’t have left you alone.”
You snorted. “You were gone for a few minutes. It’s not your fault that men are gross.”
“Are you okay, really?” He asked, pulling back to look you in the eye.
“I’m okay,” you said quietly. 
He held you close to him, gazing at you for another moment before you smiled faintly. “You really didn’t need to punch him, you know.”
He winced slightly, remembering the yelp you let out when he threw that punch. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” you said, rising on your tiptoes to kiss him. 
Azriel held you until his heart rate slowed down, until his body was convinced that you were okay.
Later, after he had dropped you off at your apartment, Azriel stayed awake, tossing and turning, so many images from that night racing through his mind.
The way his heart constricted every time you smiled at him, the horror he felt at seeing Claire play nice, the terror and rage that flowed through his entire body when he saw that creep bothering you…
Azriel knew then, that he had real feelings for you. Shit.
---
“C’mon, baby, you’ve been studying for ages already,” Azriel murmured, standing behind you as you sat at your desk in your apartment, his arms draped around your chest, his lips trailing down your neck.
Your toes curled, heat running right through you. You wanted to give in. You really did. But…
You sighed. “I’m sorry, Az. I have this big exam on Tuesday. And finals are only a few weeks away.”
For some reason, that comment made his entire body stiffen. “Oh, yeah. Finals.”
You snorted. “Don’t tell me you forgot about finals.”
“No, I just… they’re soon.” His voice wavered a bit as he stood up fully. You twisted in your seat to look up at him. His brow was furrowed, his eyes swimming with anxiety. 
“What’s wrong?” You asked, reaching up and cupping his cheek with your hand. “Do you need me to help you study?” He had never seemed to care about his grades before.
He leaned into your touch for a moment, shooting you a forced smile. “No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. I should go, and let you study.” He stooped down to press a quick kiss to your lips. “I won’t distract you anymore today.” 
Before you could even respond, he was out the door. 
You turned back to your notes, but couldn’t digest any of the information. That was… weird.
Azriel and you had been dating for months now. Though neither of you had ever put a label on it, you both knew you were exclusive. 
In the privacy of your own mind, you secretly loved that he acted so differently around you than he did out and about on campus. You felt like you got a different version of him that was saved especially for you. It made your heart swell, all the little things he did for you each day. 
You were also willing to admit, to yourself only, that you were absolutely in love with him. You had known for weeks now, and had been debating whether or not you should tell him. 
He had been the one that made you step out of your comfort zone, to try new things, to be brave. 
So, soon. You would tell him soon.
--- 
Azriel had to get out of the deal. Now.
He remembered the exact moment that he realized he was in love with you. It was a random afternoon, the two of you were watching TV at his apartment. He was laying on the couch, you were laying on top of him, your legs intertwined with his, your head on his chest. He was absentmindedly running his fingers through your hair while you giggled about something that happened on the show. 
And he had the thought. I want my whole life to look like this. 
And he knew. He loved you.
This had scared him, obviously, on multiple levels. He had never loved anyone before, never knew what that looked like. Yet somehow, he knew without a doubt that it was true. 
And then, of course, there was the deal he had made with the devil. 
He had known early on that he would have to get out of the deal. He had just been putting it off, hoping that Claire’s insanity would die down throughout the semester. 
But now his time was up. 
He prayed to whoever might be listening that Claire would listen to reason. That she would call it off. He couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you. He wouldn’t do it. 
Claire smirked as she opened the door. “I’ve been wondering when you would show up. It’s been a long time, Az,” she purred. 
Azriel stalked into her apartment, barely sparing her a glance. “The deal’s off, Claire.”
She cocked her head to the side, amused. “Oh? Why is that?”
“Because it’s insane,” he growled. “You were insane for coming up with it, and I was insane for agreeing to it. I’m done.”
Slowly, her lips curled up into a lethal smile. “You fell for her.”
Azriel blinked. 
Claire cackled. “Oh, this is rich. You actually fell for the bookworm? I never thought I’d see the day. No wonder you haven’t been crawling into my bed.”
He scowled. “The deal’s off,” he repeated in the tone he used to scare people away.
She really looked at him then, her eyes bearing into his. After a moment, she finally said, “Okay.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Okay? Just like that?”
Claire shrugged. “You were right. It was an insane plan. And it didn’t even work,” she said bitterly. “You suck at your job. She’ll still be on the top of the Dean’s list, even after all your lovey-dovey shit.”
A swell of pride ran through him at the thought of your name at the top of that list.
“Alright,” he said, his brow furrowed, trying to figure out if there was some kind of angle here. But, there didn’t seem to be one. 
He left quickly, his heart and mind feeling lighter. The guilt of how the two of you started would always be there, he knew. But now when he looked into the future, it wasn’t a hazy blur of nothingness that he saw. It was you.
---
The week before finals, there were parties everywhere. So you heard. 
You had gone to a few more with Az over the past few months. It still wasn’t exactly your thing, but you didn’t mind going, especially with Azriel being so attentive to you every time you did. 
Azriel didn’t seem particularly interested in going to this one, but his friends had been complaining that they never saw him anymore, so he agreed to go. And you had agreed to go with him, if only to take a break from your near constant studying these days.
You followed him through the crowd, his hand clasping yours, as always. Drinks in hand, you made your way to the outskirts of a group of people who were dancing and you joined them, Azriel pulling you in close to him, moving against you.
A laugh burst from you, and Azriel grinned, leaning down to kiss you. 
You were so happy, you thought. So happy in that moment with him. You knew people watched you, as they usually did when Azriel was like this with you. You didn’t care.
When he pulled back from the kiss, he gazed down at you, his eyes swimming with affection. 
“I love you,” you said before you could stop it.
His eyes sobered, and he pulled you in even closer, so your bodies were flush together. He leaned his forehead against yours, and in a crowd of people, Azriel said, a soft smile on his face, “I love you, too.”
Your heart leaped and you grinned, threading your fingers in his hair and bringing his lips to yours. 
Suddenly, the music stopped, and from the TV came a voice. Azriel’s voice. 
Everyone turned to the sound, curiously, watching. The video was jumpy, filming the floor, like it was filmed from someone’s pocket. 
Azriel tensed, his arms still around you. “Fuck,” he said. “We need to go.”
Utterly confused, you didn’t argue as he pulled you through the crowd. But you stopped dead in your tracks when you heard video Azriel say, “Sweetheart, you know I can fuck you anytime I want, right? That is not going to persuade me to help you.”
Your blood ran cold, shock jolting from your heart down to your toes. Azriel was tugging on your arm, but you didn’t budge as you heard Claire’s voice next. 
Claire. He had been talking to Claire. What did he mean, that he could fuck her whenever he wanted? You hadn’t even known that they knew each other. When was this filmed?
“Baby, please, I’ll explain everything, but we need to go,” Azriel was saying, sounding frantic. 
You wrenched your arm from his grasp, weaving through the still crowd, moving toward the TV. You heard him swear, calling your name behind you, but you kept moving.
They were saying something about a deal, about him owing her a favor. You couldn’t make sense of it, not until you heard video Azriel say, “Alright, so I just have to seduce the bookworm? Easy.”
Video Claire responded, “No, if I’m going to agree to any favor you could possibly want, you’re going to have to go further. You need to make her fall in love with you.”
It was then that you noticed Claire, next to the TV, her eyes locked on you, smirking. 
You couldn’t breathe, your legs were going to give out -- 
It was all fake. All of it. 
Azriel caught up to you then, picking you up, slinging you over his shoulder. You didn’t protest, the shock setting in. You had to get out of there, even if it was him that carried you out. 
When he made it outside, you pounded on his back with your fists. “Put me down, you asshole!”
“Sorry,” Azriel said, wincing as he gently set you on your feet. “You looked like you were going to pass out.”
“Like you even care,” you spat, storming away from him. 
“Of course I care. Please, just give me a minute to explain,” he pleaded, following you. 
“Explain what?” You stopped abruptly, spinning around to face him. “That you played me for a fool? Made me fall in love with you as a sick joke? Well, congratulations, it worked,” you said, pouring every ounce of venom that you could muster into your voice. You turned back around and continued walking as tears started pricking your eyes. You refused to let him see you cry.
“It may have started out that way, but it’s not like that anymore. From the first date, I had feelings for you. I love you. You have to believe that,” he said, right on your heels. 
You knew he could catch up with you easily if he wanted to. He was hanging back, trying to give you your space. That pissed you off even more. “How could I possibly believe that?” 
“Because you feel it, I know you do,” he said, finally wrapping his fingers around your wrist.
You tugged your hand free, but stopped walking, needing to catch your breath. You faced him. “What was the point?” You asked quietly. “Why make the deal?”
It didn’t matter. But you had to know.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Claire and I used to date. When you transferred, you pushed her off the top spot of the Dean’s list. She hated you for it. She said she would give me any favor I wanted if I made you fall for me… to distract you from school.”
You were so surprised that the tears you had been holding in started to fall. You angrily swatted them away. 
Azriel continued, “I said no at first, but she was persistent, and…” he took a deep breath, darting his eyes away from you for a moment. They were shining with unshed tears. “I have no excuse. I agreed to it. I’m an asshole. But you made me want to be different.”
“Was any of it true?” You heard yourself saying, your voice breaking. 
He lifted his hand, like he was about to reach for yours, then let it drop, thinking better of it. “It was all true. From our first date, you were breaking down my walls, making me smile, making me laugh.” He smiled sadly. “I fell for you. I love you,” he said, and now a lone tear did slide down his cheek. “I called it off with Claire ages ago. I told her I was out, and she agreed. I… I didn’t know she filmed it.”
You wanted to believe him, that he really did love you. But… “Even if you do love me, that doesn’t change what you did,” you said in a small voice. 
Azriel sniffed, wiping the tears off his face. “I know. I am so, so sorry.”
Shaking your head, backing away from him, you choked out, “I don’t -- I can’t. I can’t do this right now.”
He took a step toward you, his eyes pleading. “Please. Please don’t go.”
Turning your back to him, you walked away, barely registering the pavement beneath your feet, the direction you were going. 
Azriel called your name, but you kept walking.
You knew he had followed you home, not letting you walk alone at night. You watched his form retreat after you locked yourself inside your apartment with trembling hands. 
You went to bed, not even bothering to change. Laying on your back, watching your ceiling fan spin around and around, you tried to identify all that you were feeling: shame, humiliation, sorrow. Fury. 
Replaying all that had happened between you, all the times he was probably laughing at you with his friends behind your back. You felt nauseous. 
How could he do this? How could he have played you for so long?
What the hell were you supposed to do now?
You woke up to several missed calls and texts from Azriel, all sent hours apart. It seemed that he didn’t get any sleep at all.
I am so sorry. I’m the worst person in the world. I know that. 
I know what you’re thinking right now. I know that you’re going over it all in your head. But, it was real, baby. It was all real. I swear it was. I love you so much.
I’m hoping you’re getting some sleep. Can I see you today?
Groaning, you tossed your phone to the side, and took a long shower. By the time you got out, someone was knocking on your door. 
You quickly dressed in some old pajamas and called through the door, “Go away, Az.”
“Well, at least you’re alive,” you heard him say. “Can I please come in? Two minutes?”
You threw the door open, furious. “No, you cannot come in. You humiliated me. You used me. You had your fun. What else could you possibly want?”
Azriel was standing on the threshold, his hands in his pockets nervously, his facial expression looked like you had just slapped him. “I want to apologize! I want to make things better, that’s what I want.”
Biting your lip to keep from crying, you said quietly, “Go away.” 
His face fell. “I love you.”
Shaking your head, you said, “You don’t.”
He took a step forward, wedging his foot on the door jam so you couldn’t close it on him. “I do,” he said, his eyes pleading, baring into yours. “You know that I do. You know I’ve never let anybody else see the real me. Nobody but you.”
Tears spilled onto your cheeks then, and he wiped them away gently. Despite everything, you couldn’t back away. “It doesn’t matter,” you croaked. “You only went out with me so you could help her ruin my life.”
Azriel opened his mouth, as if to reply, but then shut it. 
You laughed humorlessly. “See? Even you don’t have a comeback.”
His eyes softened, his rough fingers still absentmindedly stroking your cheeks. “Please,” he said again. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not enough,” you whispered, your heart breaking all over again as you looked up at him, at the pain in his eyes.
“How do I fix it?” He whispered back, tears sliding freely down his cheeks now.
“I don’t know,” you said, stepping back out of his grasp. “Please, Az. I just -- I need to be alone right now.”
He nodded, drawing his arm across his face to wipe the tears away. “Okay. Okay, I’ll umm -- I’ll see you later?”
You didn’t know how to answer that, didn’t know if you would see him again at all. He took a step back, into the hallway. 
Without another word, you shut the door.
Especially knowing where that awful bet had originated, you refused to let Azriel and Claire get in your head for finals. You buckled down, spending entire days at the library studying, writing papers, finishing projects. 
It was helpful, actually. You didn’t allow yourself to think about him, about all the memories you had that had become so tainted and confusing. 
By the end of the semester, you had maintained all your A’s, passing every final with flying colors. And thus, secured the very top spot of the Dean’s list.
Azriel had been texting and calling every day. You left them all unanswered. 
You hadn’t yet had time to think, to process through the hurt. 
A new text chimed as you were packing up your car to head home for the summer. 
Saw the list. Nicely done, bookworm. I know it doesn’t matter, but I really am proud of you. Looks like all that hard work paid off ❤️
Despite everything, there was a swell of emotion in your chest at his words. God, why did everything have to be so awful?
Later, you were hefting your last box into your trunk when you heard the distinct sound of a motorcycle slowing down behind you. Your heart raced. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to see him again or not.
Slowly, you turned around to see Azriel sliding off the bike, his helmet tucked under his arm. “Hey, beautiful,” he said, somewhat tentatively.
“Hi,” you said softly. 
He nodded to your car, his expression grave. “You’re leaving?”
“Back home for the summer,” you said, unable to take your eyes off him. He looked tired. And sad. 
A moment passed silently, the two of you just looking at each other, pain hanging in the air between you.
“I miss you,” he said quietly. 
You sighed. Willed yourself to be brave. “I miss you, too,” you admitted. 
Something like hope gleamed in his eyes. “I love you,” he murmured. 
“I --” you started, and couldn’t bear it. “I need time.”
He looked crestfallen, like you had just punched him in the gut, but he nodded. “The summer?”
You swallowed. “Okay,” you said. “Okay. I get the summer, and I’ll find you in the fall. We’ll talk then.”
“Thank you,” he said, quietly. “Thank you for… for that. For talking to me now,” he winced. “I know I don’t deserve it.”
“No, you don’t,” you said, but there was no malice in it. You were too tired. “I get the summer, Az. Don’t contact me until school starts.”
He looked like he wanted to argue, but agreed. “Okay. I’ll see you in September,” he said, backing up towards his bike. “Have a good summer, bookworm,” he added with the slightest of smiles, before he slid on his helmet and drove away.
---
You spent most of the summer moping around, reading books, and trying to sort through everything that happened, all the feelings you had. 
For three months, you sifted through every moment that Azriel and you had shared together, picking them apart, deciphering every movement. 
It may have been slightly unhealthy.
You believed that what you and Azriel had was real. You believed that he did love you. And you couldn’t deny that you loved him. That maybe you always would. 
Was it worth it to deny yourself the person who had made you so happy? Who had taught you new things, who had helped you out of your comfort zone?
As September grew closer, you still weren’t sure. 
 ---
Azriel got more and more anxious as the summer came to a close. It had been torture to not contact you at all, but he knew he was in no position to be asking you for anything, so he did as you asked. 
The hurt on your face those months ago was still a clear image in his mind that haunted his nightmares. He would never forgive himself for hurting you. 
Yet, he couldn’t stop imagining what would happen when he saw you again. Would you give him another chance? You would have to be a saint to even contemplate that. But then again, you were the best person he had ever known. If anyone would be able to forgive, it would be you.
Scowling, he stomped that shred of hope down. He couldn’t go into this having any expectations. 
Soon, he would know.
---
It was bittersweet coming back to school. Academia was where you thrived. You felt right at home in the library, stacks of papers all around you. 
And you used to feel at home with Azriel. 
You sighed at the thought. The first day of classes was tomorrow. You had told Azriel not to contact you until school started back up again, and knowing him, he would take that seriously. 
Deep down, you knew what you wanted to do. It terrified you, though. 
Sure enough, the next morning, you had a text from him:
Hey, bookworm. Hope your first day of classes goes well. 
The slightest smile spread across your lips. You knew he was probably dying to ask when he could see you, but was trying to keep it light. Leave the ball in your court.
For the first time since everything, you texted him back.
Thanks, Az. Yours, too. 
He opened it immediately. After a moment, you willed yourself to send another:
Wanna meet up at the tennis courts tonight? 
His reply came at lightning speed:
7?
Reigning in your smile, you replied:
7.
You couldn’t remember ever being this nervous as you walked to the tennis courts. There were a few people playing, so you sat underneath a tree nearby, willing your legs to stop shaking. 
Right on time, a familiar motorcycle turned into the parking lot. He spotted you immediately, striding over to you with unsure steps. 
“Hey, beautiful,” he said quietly. 
You looked up at him, your heart racing at the familiarity you felt. “Hi,” you said, and after the briefest hesitation, you patted the grass next to you. You weren’t sure you would be able to stand. 
Immediately, he plopped down across from you, his knees only inches from yours as he faced you. 
His eyes were locked on yours. “How was your summer?” he said, his voice cracking slightly. 
“Okay,” you said. “How was yours?”
“Okay,” he said quietly. 
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “Okay, here’s the thing. I did a lot of thinking. A lot of thinking. And I do love you, Az.”
You paused, not sure how to word what you were feeling. 
“But?” Azriel said, his voice dripping with trepidation, his eyes guarded.
“But it’s going to take some time before I can trust you again.”
Azriel swallowed, his eyes never wavering from yours. 
He seemed like he was waiting for you to continue before he said anything, so you added, quietly, “I am willing to try, though. To give us another chance.”
The tautness in his body released, relief flooding his features. “Really?” he croaked, tears swimming in his eyes. 
You could only nod before he launched towards you, knocking you on your back, before he threaded his fingers through your hair, kissing you deeply. 
You laughed, as his other hand came up to cup your face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I swear I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you,” he said against your lips.
Wrapping your arms around him, you sighed into his kiss. “I know, Az. I know.”
“I love you,” he murmured, moving to kiss down your neck.
“I love you, too.”
“I missed you so much,” he groaned before kissing your lips again.
You giggled. “I missed you, too.”
He finally stopped kissing you, settling his elbows on either side of your head, leaning his forehead against yours. “Thank you. For giving me another chance.”
Smiling, you kissed him swiftly on the lips. “Don’t mess it up.”
“I won’t. I swear I won’t.”
The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon in each other’s arms, going over your respective summers. 
Eventually, Azriel propped himself on an elbow, gazing at you with all the love in the world.
“What?” you asked. 
He grinned. “You wanna go mini golfing, bookworm?”
You couldn’t help but return his smile. “Only if I can help you again.”
Azriel leaned down to gently kiss your forehead. “It’s a deal.”
A/N: wanna see more of these two?? Check out part 2!
@thalia-as-blog @saltedcoffeescotch
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housecow · 6 months ago
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it’s so bad but. ruination is one of the hottest parts of feedism for me... i’ve set myself up well so far. i’ve made good decisions that’ve paid off—but i want all of that to mean nothing eventually.
does it even matter that i’m a published academic when i can’t get myself off the couch without help? unread emails from colleagues i haven’t seen in years. inquiries about a database i poured my soul into developing for grad school, unread and untouched for months because i can’t bother to reach over and pull the laptop onto my massive belly. maybe i’d figure out a way to forward them to someone else, removing any potential responsibility. why keep up with those connections when it’s so much easier to keep shoveling food into my mouth?
i can’t wait for all of my accomplishments to pale in comparison with the hundreds of pounds i’ve put on. my world will narrow—my feeder and the piles of food he supplies will be the only things that matter. his careful and strong hands, massaging the rolls and folds he so lovingly made sure were our priority. it started with a simple, “close the laptop and come sit, i got the shake ready”
one day i just won’t open it ever again. the tv remote is right there, my phone is tucked somewhere under the flab. there’s a few pizzas on the way. premade shakes are in the mini fridge next to the couch i fill up almost entirely by myself. my mind is finally blank—no one would expect i was ever more than a useless cow
the occasional trip to the fridge is the most i’d accomplish in a day, maybe even a week. my feeder figures out he can lace the shakes with thc and keep my mind numb, just like i told him i needed. no more documentaries. shitty reality tv keeps me entranced and distracted, thousands of calories devoured each hour. after work he finds me where he left me, surrounded by wrappers and working on a tub of ice cream. “babe, how many has it been?”
can i even count at that point? “i don’t know, can you get me another?” he’d pop it in the microwave first because spoons are getting hard to hold in my pudgy hands. sticky sausage fingers grasp the tub as he hands it to me and he slides onto the couch next to my massive figure.
this is the best part of the day. he rubs my belly in circles, pressing deeply into the soft and dimpled fat as i desperately gulp down the slurry of melted ice cream. he grips a roll and gives it a shake, making me groan a bit—in a good way, it freed up a bit more room. not like i would’ve stopped eating anyways. he shakes his head and tuts: “you still have room?”
i don’t say anything but i smile and lazily look at him, slow and dumb but knowing what that disapproval means. he reaches to the table and pulls the funnel mask out, slipping it over my face. “good girls can barely breathe by the time i get home.”
god, at one point in time people thought i actually had potential. i can’t wait to ruin it all
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kenobers · 3 months ago
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nsfw alphabet | Jason Todd
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what the title says ! tw; explicit sexual content, gn!reader a/n; like always, these are just my thoughts and headcanons
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Jason's gonna make sure you're comfortable afterwards. He'll wipe you down, check that he didn't go too far. If you leave afterwards, he'll make sure you get home safe. If you stay, he'll offer you a t-shirt to sleep in. For a while, he wasn't big on the physical aspect of aftercare, but eventually pulling you to his chest becomes second nature. It's like your head fits just right in the crook of his shoulder. Hey, maybe the body heat will keep with the inevitable soreness you'll feel tomorrow. He's big on eating after sex. If you have enough energy, he'll order some Chinese or throw a frozen pizza in the oven. Sometimes it's kind of astonishing how the man will fuck you until you're more than a ragdoll, then immediately demolish like three Big Macs.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
He loves hands. He loves his hands. They're big and strong, they can protect you, please you, provide for you. He adores the way you feel under them, soft and clean. He loves to feel you press against his palm while his fingers disappear inside of you. He loves your hands, the way they feel on his skin. No matter their size, they always look so small wrapped around his cock. He cherishes every mark your fingernails leave along his back, every sting they leave on his scalp when they twist his hair. He loves that your hands can go from caressing his scars to replacing them.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Jason loves the sight of you, sweaty and panting, with your stomach and thighs decorated in white. He's a little more possessive than he likes to admit, and he secretly feels like he's marking you as his whenever he finishes all over your skin.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He loves having high sex. When the weed hits just right, so the world reduces to nothing but you...that's that good shit right there. He gets so locked in that there isn't a single thought that could pull him away. He's numb in every place that isn't touching you. It adds a certain level of passion, of desperation, for each of you because your senses are so heightened to each other. However, it isn't very often that he feels both of you are to the same level of inebriated for it.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
He isn't as sexually charged as you would think and he typically waits to get to know a person before having sex with them (with a few exceptions, like for a certain crime lord's daughter). So in that regard, one of his body counts is significantly higher than the other, but he's had enough experience to know what he's doing. He knows what he likes and he knows how to figure out what you like.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
So long as your legs are hooked over his hips, he's happy. Jason particularly loves it when he's on his knees while you're on your back with your hips angled over his thick thighs. It lets him get deep inside of you while still being able to look at your pretty face. Not to mention, he loves grasping your hips, spreading your legs wide. (According to trusted resource, SexPositions.Club, this is position 5. Aquarius) He also loves having you up against things. Against a wall, on the kitchen table, the handle bars of his motorcycle. The way you hold onto him in more ways than one really adds something to the moment. And yeah, maybe it allows him to show off his strength to you.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Jason's tone depends on the time and place. For the most part, he's serious. He teases you, lets out a low chuckle when he gets a sought after reaction from you, but it isn't humorous. But sometimes...sex is just incredibly unserious. Like lazy morning sex, when neither of you can be bothered to do much more than roll on top of one another. Like you're horny, but Jason looks so goofy with his hair sticking up and you're a real beauty queen with your crusty eyes. Or the aforementioned high sex, when both of you are so lost in your pleasure and giggles.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
His autopsy scar stops where his happy trail begins. Before you were a regular in his bed, he didn't really think to groom himself much. But he figured he should show you some decorum, so he keeps the dark patch of hair reigned in.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Jason doesn't take sex lightly. It's either a tool or a declaration of love (no matter how lazy). If he's using sex as a tool, he isn't going to be very intimate. He'll praise you, sing songs about your body, but it isn't going to be very personal. However, when you're in an established relationship, he's very intimate. There's much more kissing and eye contact, lots more "that's my baby" instead of "that's it, baby".
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Oh yeah. Usually only if you're gone though. He'd rather have the real deal. But sometimes...if he thinks about you for a little too long...well, it's hard to hide all that when you're his size...it's just polite for everyone else if he just deals with it.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Jason's kinks are sort of a revolving door. He likes to go rougher and he likes to be in charge typically, but everything else is dependent on your moods. One day he'll blindfold you, the next you'll tie his hands together while he gives you orders you have to follow on your own. He'll be daddy once, then sir the next, but his favorite thing to here is Jason. He also gets a thrill out of doing it with the Red Hood mask on. He's also got a praise kink. There's nothing that gets him going more than hearing you babble about how good he's making you feel, about how much you love him. It goes the other way as well. He loves to tell you how good you feel, how beautiful you are, how well you're taking him.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Where ever the mood strikes. Generally speaking, his apartment is his favorite place. There isn't a particular room, he just likes the knowledge that this is your space to do as you please. But he does get a little thrill whenever you manage to do it somewhere risky.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
It's cliche as hell, but the sight of you in red really does work wonders for him. If he can see your nipples through your shirt, it's over. Watching you doing or say something intelligent is a huge turn on. He likes to watch you work for it. The way you oh-so-conspicuously bend over to pick something up or shiver so your chest sticks out. Make a suggestive face as you drop an innuendo only he understands and he'll see to it that your efforts don't go unrewarded.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
He's not a voyeur. If he's gonna do it in a public setting, it's gonna be in a closet or a bathroom stall; somewhere that still shields your bodies from prying eyes. That's just for the two of you. Now, of course there's exceptions - like if you're trying to piss off your mobster father by fucking on his property, then he'll get a little cheeky for the security cameras.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Jason is nothing, if not a giver. Just lay back and let him take care of it, baby. This is something he can spend hours doing. His tongue knows just where to work you, he knows just how much teeth you like, where the biting boarders on pain. And if his fingers aren't right next to his mouth, they're kneading your skin, raking his nails across your stomach with a featherlight touch, massaging the kinks in your thighs so you can open them a little more. If nothing else, his mouth and hands can cover a lot of ground.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Jason likes it fast and rough. He'll drag out foreplay to his heart's content, but once you're good and ready, he's fucking you like his life depends on it. Then he's flipping you over and doing it again. That said, he has his slow and sensual moments. After a rough night when he's feeling particularly sentimental and grateful for you, he'll take all the time in the world just to watch you underneath him.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Pro quickie, but usually if it's an appetizer for what comes later on. It's hard to take a dick that big and casually go on about your day. So, most of the time quickies look like his fingers sneaking down your pants during your lunch break, his head between your thighs in the bathroom at a charity event, or you on your knee taking care of him before patrol.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
As mentioned earlier, his kinks are a revolving door, so he would be down to experiment. He's pretty good about saying no when he needs to, and if he trusts that you can do the same, then he's open to trying new risks.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
No one recovers like this man. He can go for as many rounds as your heart desires. Unless he's already been yearning the whole damn day, Jason can last until the cows come home.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
He doesn't have any toys for himself and doesn't really like to use them on his own body. However, he likes to use the vibrator on you, especially during foreplay. He likes to watch as you curl into him and shake with pleasure while he drives the toy between your legs - especially knowing that it won't be enough to satisfy you for long.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He likes to tease up to a certain point. If you're out doing something, he'll keep sliding his hand higher and higher up your thigh, then pull away completely, or lean down to say something to you so that his breath hits your neck in that one sensitive spot... But once your clothes are off, he can only restrain himself for so long.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Low groans and swears. His mouth as a mind of its own when he really gets going as he praises you, teases, calls out to you. You're his Baby, his Pretty Thing/Girl/Boy, so so good for him, taking it all like this. Oooh. Look. At. You. You can always tell when he's close because his panting turns to grunts, his sweet nothings become more intense as they strain between his teeth.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
He's secretly a little self conscious about his body, particularly about his scars. Like, yeah, he's big and muscly and people always say they dig scars, but...some of his are, like, real nasty. Not to mention, that some of them have triggering memories attached to them. He finds his autopsy scar to be especially gross. It takes up so much of his chest and it doesn't seem to want to fade like the rest of his marks tend to do. So for a while when you first started having sex, he found ways around taking his shirt off. And if it did come off, it was in the dark. Once he works up the courage to finally show you all of him in proper light, he's surprised when you're more fascinated with it than anything. He can't suppress the shiver that runs down his spine when you press your lips to the crux of that T-shaped stamp. He probably won't ever love his scars, but he'll always adore the way you treat them.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
He's a big guy and is very proportional. He's a solid 8 inches standing tall and girthy. He's a lot to take in, which is why he's very adamant about getting an orgasm out of you before penetration.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
His libido is strong for you. As previously stated, he's not as sex charged as you would think, but he does have a strong desire for you. He initiates sex fairly regularly, but he doesn't feel the need to paw at your clothes 24/7.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He almost always waits until you fall asleep. If you manage to fall asleep quickly, then he'll follow suit typically.
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zweigsangel · 2 months ago
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it started with the faint buzz of your phone on the nightstand, vibrating so persistently it startled you out of half-sleep. you grabbed it, squinting at the screen to see chris's name flashing. it wasn’t unusual for him to call, but at nearly two in the morning? that wasn’t normal.
“what the hell do you want?” you answered, voice raspy from sleep. “yo,” he slurred, dragging the word out. his voice sounded distant, like it was fighting through static and something else.
you sat up, rubbing your face. “are you drunk?”
“nah,” he said, then paused. “well, kinda. not drunk. high. like, really fuckin’ high.” there was another pause. then he laughed softly. “sorry, is that rude? don’t know why i’m apologizin’. i just—fuck, nevermind.“
“what’s up? you woke me up, dumbass.” but your irritation was mostly for show, your tone softening.
chris and you had always been like this—banter that felt like a second language, jokes that only the two of you got. you’d been friends for years, meeting in high school when he’d transferred to your school halfway through junior year. he was scruffy, cocky, and way too confident for his own good. but beneath that? he was sweet in ways he didn’t let many people see.
you leaned back against the headboard, adjusting to the idea that you weren’t getting back to sleep anytime soon.
“just..missed your voice, i think.” he said it so simply, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
your stomach did that annoying little flip at his words, and you cursed it silently. there’d always been something unspoken between you two. maybe it was the way he sometimes looked at you like you were the only person in the room. or the way his hand would linger on your back when you hugged goodbye. but you’d both avoided it, burying it under layers of sarcasm and jokes.
“you’re so full of shit,” you said, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see you. “nah, swear to god,” he said, voice still soft but with a hint of that teasing edge he always had. “can i-can i come over?”
“chris, it’s the middle of the night—”
“i know, i know. but i just... i really wanna see you. please.”
something in his voice made your chest ache a little. “fine. but if you wake my neighbors, i’m kicking your ass.”
“promise. be there in ten.”
ten minutes later, there was a soft knock at your door. you opened it to find him standing there, hoodie pulled over his head. his hair was a mess, and his eyes were glassy, but he grinned when he saw you.
“you look cute,” he said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.
“shut up,” you said, shutting the door behind him. you were just in an oversized t-shirt and shorts, and you felt a little self-conscious under his gaze.
he flopped onto your couch, stretching out like he owned the place you grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen and tossed it at him. “drink that. you look like shit,” you said, sitting down next to him. he smelled faintly like weed and the cheap cologne he always wore, and it made your chest ache a little in a way you didn’t want to examine too closely.
“thanks, babe. love the support.” but he opened the bottle and took a long sip, sighing afterward.
“so, what’s this all about?” you asked, pulling your legs up beneath you.
he rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically unsure. “dunno. just..couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you.”
you laughed, trying to brush it off. “yeah, right. you’re high as shit. you probably couldn’t stop thinking about pizza, too.”
“nah, i’m serious.” his voice was quieter now, and when you looked at him, his eyes were on you, steady and unflinching. “i mean it. you’re all i’ve been thinkin’ about lately, and it’s been drivin’ me fuckin’ insane.”
your heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might break through your chest. “you’re just saying this because you’re high,” you said weakly, not meeting his eyes.
“bullshit,” he shot back, his voice sharper now. “this isn’t the weed talkin’, alright? this is me. i’ve been feelin’ this way for ages, but i didn’t wanna fuck shit up between us. but, god, it’s killin’ me,” he paused for a moment. “but tonight i was sittin’ at home, high as fuck, and i just couldn’t stop thinking about you. like, your stupid laugh, and the way you always steal my fries even when you say you’re not hungry, and how you—fuck, this is so embarrassing.”
you stared at him, your mouth slightly open but no words coming out.
he looked up at you, his eyes serious now. “i think i’m in love with you. no, fuck that, i know i’m in love with you. and i don’t know what to do about it, ‘cause i don’t wanna lose you, but i also can’t keep pretendin’ i don’t feel this way.”
you felt like the air had been knocked out of you. you sat there, stunned, your brain scrambling to process what he’d just said.
“say something,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “please.”
you swallowed hard, your mind spinning, and he laughed bitterly. “shit, i knew this was a bad idea,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “forget i said anything, alright? just—fuck. i’m sorry.”
he started to get up, but you grabbed his wrist before you even realized what you were doing. “wait.”
he froze, looking down at you, and you swallowed hard. “you’re not..wrong,” you admitted quietly.
his eyebrows pulled together. “what do you mean?”
you hesitated, but only because you were scared. scared of what this could mean, of how things might change. but then you thought about all the little moments over the years—his hand brushing against yours, the way his smile could light up your worst days, the way he always knew exactly how to make you laugh.
“i mean—i think about you, too,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “but i didn’t wanna ruin anything, either.”
for a moment, he just stared at you, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. then, slowly, he sat back down. “yeah?” he asked, his voice softer now.
“yeah,” you said, meeting his eyes.
his eyes widened, and for a moment, he just stared at you like he couldn’t believe what he’d heard.
then he did move, leaning in just a little, his gaze flicking to your lips. “can i kiss you?” he asked, his voice low and a little raspy. your breath caught, but you nodded. “yeah.”
and then his lips were on yours, soft and warm and a little hesitant at first, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to want this as much as he did. but when you kissed him back, threading your fingers through his hair, he deepened the kiss, his hands coming up to cup your face like he was afraid you might disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough.
it wasn’t perfect—his nose bumped yours, and you could taste the faint tang of weed on his lips—but it didn’t matter. it was warm and messy and real, and it made your heart feel like it was about to burst.
when he pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, he was smiling—this soft, almost disbelieving smile that made your chest ache in the best way.
“fuck,” he whispered. “that was..better than i imagined.” you laughed softly, your cheeks burning. “you’ve imagined this?”
“yeah,” he admitted, his smile turning sheepish. “a lot, actually.”
you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop smiling. “you’re such an idiot.”
“your idiot,” he said, grinning.
you groaned, shoving him lightly, but he just laughed, pulling you into his arms. and for the first time, it felt like everything was exactly as it should be.
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alchemistc · 2 months ago
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"I am not packing your kitchen, Buck," Maddie says with a hard set to her jaw and a hand planted on her hip, and Evan sends her a warning look over his shoulder, elbow deep in packing tape and half-folded boxes. Tommy is clearly missing something.
"You found the ring cutter in there with the ladles too, huh?" Snipes Eddie from somewhere in the vicinity of the bathroom, and before Tommy can get a firm grasp on that Eddie's tipping his head back through the open doorway. "C'mon guys, seriously, you didn't pack this shit up before you forced us all to help you pack?" There's an unopened tube of lube in his hand.
"I'm getting things off of walls and that is all, Evan Buckley," comes Maddie's quick rejoinder, and Buck levels them both with a look.
"That could be for normal stuff! Sometimes rings need cutting! Sometimes you need to - lubricate other things!"
It is, of course, the moment Bobby wanders through the unlocked door.
Tommy's still familiar with the cadence of Hen and Howie, ribbing and mocking a form of endearment for them both, so he's not exactly shocked when Bobby just rolls with it and starts listing off the last fifteen calls they've needed it for. None of those things particularly improve the red rising up Evan's cheekbones, but Tommy catches the grin Bobby's hiding while he sets boxes of pizza up at the kitchen table, cleared of the latest seasonal decor Evan had dragged him through three different department stores to find, not that he could be bothered to care when the very existence of them was all it took to shift Maddie's opinion of him from tolerantly friendly to encouragingly approving.
("This loft was a minimalists wet dream before you were in the picture," she'd told him one evening, after she'd manipulated him into admitting he was terrified this didn't mean the same thing to Evan as it did to him. "He started nesting a month after my wedding, Tommy.")
And now they're here. Watching Evan pretend to be miffed by the teasing while he fights a roll of packing tape.
He's going to miss the upstairs shower, wide enough for two grown men to fit more than comfortably; and the balcony on cooler nights when he could tempt Evan out for a slow dance set to the late-evening traffic; the kitchen island at the perfect height to lift Evan onto and tilt his head up for an angled kiss.
He won't miss the open plan that makes it impossible to do much of anything with a snoring Eddie right below them, the tuba player two doors down who only seems to practice the moment Tommy's head meets the pillow at the end of any random days-long shift, the way the elevator always smells like tuna on Thursday afternoons.
There are things he won't have to miss, of course. Evan, on nights when they just can't make their schedules align well enough to justify the drive time. The extra fluffy towel set Evan had refused to reveal the origin of ("You'll buy your own and leave me, I know you're only with me for my towels."). The pictures plastered to the fridge that Tommy's spent the last few weeks plotting out space for on his own before deciding he'd need a new fridge just to fit them all. The plant he'd bought Evan to appease the grump, the first time he'd dragged him to the farmers market at the ass crack of dawn, lovingly named Herbert. The fancy adjustable bedside lamps Evan had bought the last time he'd caught Tommy squinting down his reading glasses at the book in his hands. Evan.
Christ, he wouldn't have to miss Evan anymore. They'd synched up their schedules more or less as well as they could, but Tommy's spent months now trying to ignore how quickly a sleepless night could turn restful with Evan in his bed - how fitful a night without him there had a habit of being.
Most of the loft is already packed. Evan's wardrobe has been dwindling for weeks now, a box at a time carted from the back of the Jeep up Tommy's drive, through the mud room, down the hall and straight to the closet that had never seen such a shock of color or variety of fabric. They'd sprung for a bigger mattress, once they'd gotten over the sticker shock and remembered how much they'd be saving by paying half a mortgage each with no rent to speak of, and other than the kitchen table most of Evan's other furniture was being donated.
All that really remained were the kitchen supplies Evan hadn't been willing to move until he handed over his keys, a few toiletries, a single drawer of clothes just in case he needed them. Pictures on the walls and stacks of books on the bookshelves - half a decade of life lived in this apartment and most of it was already half unboxed and slowly integrating into the fifteen years Tommy had put into his own solitary life.
Evan finishes taping boxes and makes a beeline for his itemized list, and Tommy has to pretend it's giving him as much grief as Evan's sister and best friend to see the clipboard in action. He's not entirely sure how well he sells it, when even Bobby's shooting him aggrieved looks only to grimace at whatever he finds in Tommy's expression.
And just like that, an hour passes and the pizza disappears; the boxes are loaded into the back of his truck; the kitchen table in Eddie's; and Maddie tugs her brother in for a hug, drags Tommy in for good measure too, kisses them both on the cheek as she leaves; Bobby tucks a wooden box filled with handwritten recipes on note cards into Evan's hand and Tommy pretends not to notice either of their teary eyes; Eddie hefts a six pack out of the otherwise empty fridge and promises to meet them at the house in forty-five.
There's still one picture stuck to the fridge - a candid from the first barbeque Athena and Bobby had hosted after their move, Tommy and Evan backlit by a setting sun, tucked up against each other leaned against a porch railing, and Tommy knuckles at it while Evan does a slow introspective spin to take in the wide expanse of windows and brick. He's still staring when Evan finishes and drifts towards him, hands tucking in at Tommy's waist, chin hooking over his shoulder.
"Is this one staying?"
Evan shakes his head, nose digging into the side of Tommy's neck. "Just wanted to keep it out so it could be the first one we put up."
He remembers the night. Karen had gotten him drunk and added him to the wives group chat. May Grant had stolen half his slice of cake right off his plate and dared him to protest. Jee had spent the entire night calling him Uncle Tommy and thrown a massive fit when she realized he wasn't going home with her to read a bedtime story. Christopher and Denny had spent half an hour trying to teach him how to play Fortnite and then been mystified when he trounced them in Mario Kart. He knows exactly why it's significant to him. "Why this one?" he asks, curving into the cradle of Evan's arms.
Evan's so much better with words than Tommy is, and Tommy's just grateful Evan takes his actions for the things he means with them. "That's the night I knew what our something was gonna be," Evan murmurs, and Tommy tips his chin back and angles his head to catch Evan's lips against his own.
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captainsamuelmorrigan · 21 days ago
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Spank Bank
Steddie! NSFW! TW: Porn, Body Dysmorphia
Steve has a huge problem. He's obsessed with this magazine he found at Eddie's house. Well, one photo specifically.
He found it in Eddie's copy of Dungeons & Dragons Players Handbook that he had been trying to use to create his first character. The book was so well-loved that for a moment, Steve had thought part of the book itself had fallen out, before looking down and seeing the cover of a gay porn magazine. His entire face turning red, thinking he hadn't been meant to see this, he quickly stuck it back into the back of the book and back onto his nightstand. Falling onto his back, staring up at his popcorn ceiling, trying to get the shirtless man from burning into the back of his eyelids.
He made it 36 hours before tentatively pulling the magazine back out of the book again. There wasn't any shame in knowing what a friend was into. Right? He's one of Eddie's best friends! They can laugh about it later! 'Haha, you left your dirty magazine in the book you lent me. You pervert!'
Steve looks at the front, a lithe and handsome young guy staring straight into the camera, holding up a football. The only indication that this magazine was dirty at all was the text advertising "HOT Young Jocks, Otters, and Daddies!!" Steve shakes his head and puts the magazine face down on the bed. He feels insane. This is way over the line.
Grabbing the magazine once again, he leafs through the pages, seeing all manner of muscular young men in a variety of sporty attire. Some in baseball outfits that were a size too small, legs spread on a bench to see his package straining against his pants, next to a picture of the same guy from the behind, the same pants making his rather round butt look almost like a girl's. Turning further past a few guys making out in camo gear, Steve comes across a dog-eared page.
For a moment, Steve remembers whose porn this is. Eddie had dog-eared this page to return to. The page that was folded for easy access was a muscular, sweaty guy in a basketball uniform. The uniform was a costumey shade of red that seemed that it was made for this shoot in particular, with the top cropped right below this guy's chest, the basketball shorts hanging low on this guy's hips, showing the waistband of his underwear, and a neatly manscaped happy trail. His hair was tossed around sexily. No, teased. It was kind of like Steve's, a warm, natural brown. This guy also had a few moles like Steve. Plus, the basketball outfit is almost a little too on the nose.
The page next to it made Steve's mouth go dry. This Not-Steve was below the camera now, mouth open for someone's hand to be pressing their thumb down onto his tongue. Looking through his long brown lashes like he was receiving sacrament, a silent prayer of reception in his soft eyes.
Steve hastily shoves the magazine in his bedside drawer. He struggles to sleep with so much blood southbound.
It's two days after that that he has to meet Eddie's eyes.
He's over to watch Rocky Horror again, nothing new. But this time, he sits an extra few inches away from Eddie. He isn't worried about Eddie making a pass at him, but he is worried he'll be weird if he thinks about Eddie thinking about sporty boys, his face getting all flushed and sweaty and- Quit it, Steven.
He stuffs pizza into his mouth, willing the cheesy bread to blanket his busy mind.
"Dost the King wish to share his royal thoughts?" Eddie quips.
"Shush, Freak." Steve flicks a piece of stale couch popcorn at Eddie.
Eddie cluches his chest, leaning back dramatically. "Oh! I'm wounded, Steve! How could you bring up my troubled past?"
"Sorry, just distracted tonight."
"Anything I can help with?"
Steve sighs. "Nah, just one of those nights."
They nodded at each other. They had seen enough of vines, girls with superpowers, and demobats to fill a million nights. They looked back towards the TV to watch the glittery outfits of the Transylvanians.
Steve felt a twist of guilt deep in his stomach at the small lie.
"Mm." Eddie said, knowingly.
"Yeah."
They sat in silence for quite a while, the campy sparkly show tunes bursting forth from the wood-paneled television enough to keep the quiet from becoming too awkward.
Janet breaks the silence with her iconic line, "I don't like men with too many muscles."
"I didn't make him FOR YOU!" Eddie shouts back along with Frank, laughing.
Steve takes a breath to gather his courage. "Do you like guys with muscles?"
Eddie's fingers drum on his thigh, looking away from Steve, pulling his hair to cover his face. "Whaat? Steve, do you really want to know my taste in guys? Isn't that like... weird to you?"
"Robin and I talk about our taste in girls all the time."
"Yeah, but that's different. You both like girls." Eddie's fingers pick up their rhythm, speadily pressing out a few chords into his thigh of choice. "You don't like guys."
"I don't, but Nancy does. I've talked with her, El, Max, even Argyle about the guys they like."
Eddie is quiet for a moment. "How about we talk about this another time. I'm kind of floaty on my painkillers right now."
They turn back towards the movie.
...
"Do you think Rocky or Frank-N-Furter is hotter?"
Eddie sighs, folding his hands in his lap. "Rocky. I think I'm too much like Frank. Plus, any gay guy can't resist those smooth muscles." Eddie laughs. "Not my usual type, though."
They part ways an hour later after the movie. Eddie's eyelids had started to droop during "I'm Going Home," and Steve knew he had about 20 minutes before he had to drag Eddie's spidery form to bed.
Once he was home, he grabbed the magazine and turned to the folded page. He stared down at Mr. Basketball, or "Rory," as the mag had dubbed him. He seemed slimmer than Steve, definitely less hairy.
Eddie's line from earlier chimed in Steve's head. "Any gay guy can't resist those smooth muscles." Well, Eddie liked smooth. Steve wasn't smooth. Eddie liked slim. Maybe that's what 'wasn't Eddie's type' about Rocky. This guy in the magazine was everything Eddie wanted. All the things Steve was, and the things he wasn't.
Steve pulled up his shirt, revealing his muscular stomach. It wasn't as toned as his high school days, but he would say he was muscular. His thick brunet curls, spreading up his stomach to his chest, and swirling down towards his cock.
As he pulls his shirt up further, more to the length of the boy's in the picture, he noticed the slight tenting of his pants.
Was this guy in the picture getting him hard? He looked between his junk and the mag a few times, noticing the tenting of Rory's own shorts in the second photo. It seemed that Rory was also a little more well-endowed than Steve. Steve had plenty, sure, but this guy? Steve clenched a little at the thought of staring down the barrel of that thing.
Eddie liked big-dicked, hairless, skinny jocks. Steve was maybe one out of three.
His hand drifted from playing with his stomach hair, following the swirls lower, into his pants. His dick twitching at the notion of use. Twirling the hair around his fingers, watching the front of his pants move, giving slight bits of friction to his quickly responsive dick. He groaned softly. Was he really about to jerk it to Eddie's porn?
He slowly wrapped his fingers around his cock, tugging lightly. He thought about Eddie there. What would Eddie think of Steve like this? Maybe he'd pull out the theatrics, like he used to in high school.
He imagined Eddie looking down at him. "You really think I'd want you, Harrington? With all that beastly hair? You look like a werewolf, man."
His dick twitched at the thought of Eddie looking at him with disgust. His eyes were getting misty.
"I don't even know how I'd get to that tiny cock through that thick jungle anyways. Truly a needle in a hairy haystack. The only thing you're good for is taking my load on those muscles."
That did it. Steve came with a weak cry, tears streaming down his face, thinking about Eddie's glistening cum on his stomach, soaking his belly fur.
The shower after was full of pitiful sniffles and more shame than Steve was used to. He felt empty.
The next week was full of more shame-wanks than Steve had ever done before. Night after night, Steve opening the magazine, finding more of his shortcomings, all ending in his hand around his dick and a pitiful cry in the shower. The nights following are full of fitful tossing and turning. He barely had the energy to do his hair in the morning.
By the 8th day of this Robin had rebooted the 'You Suck' counter. Steve couldn't really blame her. He had dropped VHSs, forgotten to tidy the break room, and worst of all, had snapped at Robin. He had gotten 3 strikes for that one.
"What's your damage, Steve? You're not being a real girl's girl right now. Plus you look like shit." Robin crossed her arms for emphasis.
"It's nothing."
"Truth, now." Robin leaned in. "Or I'm assuming you have brain cancer or something! You could even be a government replacement or something! What's my middle name? Wait... that's something the government would know. Where did I tell you I was a lesbian?"
"You're a lesbian?"
Robin's eyes widen in horror.
"The Starcourt bathroom, after the Russians. I'm me, I'm just distracted." Steve looks away from her. "I found a magazine in one of Eddie's books and it's freaking me out."
Robin scoots to be next to Steve. "Is it like... a porn magazine?"
Steve nods.
Robin cringes. "Are you freaked out in a 'this sex stuff is too weird' way, or in a 'this is gay and I don't like it way'?" She looks softly into Steve's eyes, obviously trying to be delicate with him.
"One of the guys looks like me, but he's like... not me? Maybe I'm making too big of a deal out of it." He starts to turn away from her.
"No! I'm sure it's weird to see that in a magazine, but it's just one picture, right? Could be a total coincidence."
"The page was marked. He'd definitely meant to come back to it."
She covers her mouth, eyes wide. "Oh that's..." She searches for the right thing to say before speaking. "Still, could be a coincidence! There are lots of guys with brown hair."
Later, at Steve's house, Robin stares at the page, mouth agape. "Steve this is... this guy looks A LOT like you. He's got your little chin moles and the basketball uniform, and the styled hair? I get why this squicked you."
"Squicked?"
"Made you feel gross. This is kind of shocking."
Steve pulls the magazine back to himself. "Well- I- I don't care if he's doing that to me." He's shaking a bit as he tries to collect his thoughts.
"You don't?" She raises an eyebrow, reaching towards Steve. "I don't think I understand."
"This guy isn't me! He's smaller, and better looking. Plus, he's like, HAIRLESS! Obviously Eddie would never want me if he likes this guy." Steve flops back, leaning limply against the wall.
"Woah woah woah!" Robin puts a hand on Steve's arm, rubbing soothingly. "Steve pause the negative self-talk for a second. Do you WANT Eddie to want you like that?"
Steve ceases for a moment. "I don't- It's not-"
Robin pats his arm. "It's okay if you do."
"No! It's not!" Steve sits up quickly, Robin having to jump out of the way. He hides his head in his hands, stressfully rubbing his face as his voice grows small. "It's not. He wouldn't-" His voice trembles. "He wouldn't want a guy like me. He wants a guy like that."
Robin reaches over to rub his back. "Steve, I know you're sleep deprived, and it seems like you're suffering through your first gay crush, but I promise you that you and that guy are much more similar than you are different. Even though I think it's really gross that Eddie is doing things while thinking about you, you seem to want that! And that's totally and completely okay."
Steve peeks out from behind his hands. "What if Eddie doesn't want me, though?"
"Stephen Maurice Harrington, you are the biggest idiot in the entire world if you think that Edward Munson is not" she takes a breath, cringing "crazy horny for you if he was willing to find a sporty soft-core porn magazine with a guy who looks so much like you that it grossed me out to see him in the position he's in." She folds her arms again, looking down her nose at him. She raises an eyebrow expectantly.
"Do you think I should talk to him?"
"Steve, I say this as your best friend. Go do him."
Hours later, Steve is on Eddie's doorstep. The newer, nicer, double-wide trailer in front of him suddenly much more imposing than it was last week. He brings his hand to the door, lowering it and turning around before hearing it open behind him.
"Steve? Robin said you were coming. What's going on?"
Dammit, Robin. There was no way to escape now. He plastered his trademark King Steve smile on before spinning around. "Hey! Yeah, I remembered I forgot to return your book." He offers Eddie back his book, knuckles white with stress. "I didn't get around to completing the character, but maybe we can hang out next week, and you can help? Unless you're busy or something. It's totally up to you, man." He crosses his arms to put something between him and Eddie, stepping back.
Eddie raises an eyebrow. "Steve, you know I'm not doing anything. Is this about Rocky? I told you that this was going to make things weird." He hugs his book to his chest, using his other hand to lean on his cane. "If you're going to be homophobic about it, can we just forget about it?"
"I can't forget about it, Eds." Steve shakes his head.
Eddie cringes, starting to lean back to close the door, losing his balance a bit. The book slips from his grasp, falling in slow motion as Steve grabs after it. It slips through his fingers, the pages fanning open enough to allow the magazine to slip to the ground first. The book thudding to the concrete next to it. They both stare, at a loss for words.
Eddie covers his face defensively with his arm. "Steve I- I can explain. I'm so sorry that was in there. I totally forgot about it and- and- I would NEVER make a pass at you. You have to understand! I'm not like- like THAT!" Eddie looks like he wishes he could disappear into oblivion. If he still had the running power, Steve was sure he'd be down the block by now.
"You wouldn't?" Steve deflates. Of course he wouldn't.
Eddie's arm drops. "What?"
Steve bends down, stacking the mag on top of the book. "Robin said, she said the guy in the magazine looked exactly like me. That you... you probably liked me. I knew that I wasn't your type. It's okay." He offers Eddie a weak smile, he tries and fails to stop his chin from trembling. This hurt more than Nancy, more than anything.
Eddie pushes the book out of the way. "Steve." He takes a deep breath, his shaking calming down a bit. "Do you want it to be you?"
"He's thinner than me, though. I mean, I get it if that's your thing. He's thinner, way less hairy, his dick is- Well, you know, not a lot of guys are that big." Steve looks at the little bundle of dandelions in one of Wayne's mugs on the table by the door. Anything to avoid Eddie's eyes.
Eddie lets out a nervous laugh. "Steve. Steve. Look at me." He waves his hand in front of Steve's face, trying to get him to disengage from his self-hatred fixation. "I don't care about that stuff."
Steve looks into the curly-haired boy's eyes. "You don't?"
"Nah, I mean, not as much as some other people might. I like muscley guys as much as the next homo, but beggars can't be choosers in small towns."
"So you're settling for me?"
"Jesus, Harrington. Who pissed in your cheerios? No. I'm saying you're super fucking hot, like, way hotter than some guy in a magazine." He fidgets with his cane, tapping it on the floor, laughing nervously. "I've had that magazine since, like junior year. I forgot it was in that book."
"Did you have that page marked that whole time?" Steve holds his breath, his eyes sparkling as he looks at Eddie.
"Y-yeah? It's really embarrassing. I used to have this weird fantasy where you'd like, be one of those homophobic bullies who turned out to be gay and you'd do a bunch of nasty stuff with me. Again, it's very super embarrassing, actually. You totally don't have to do any of it with me if you don't want to." He tucks a curl behind his ear, looking at Steve sheepishly.
Steve laughs, leaning in to kiss Eddie. It's just an innocent peck, their lips meeting as their eyes close. Eddie's lips are softer than Steve expected. "I want to hear about it. We might try some of it out."
"Careful there, Stevie, you're gonna get my hopes up."
"And about the dick thing?"
"Steve, trust me, I am totally fine handling average."
"What about like, slightly above average?"
Eddie stumbles for a second time. "So the legends are true!!" He laughs.
(Edit: For those asking, the fic that inspired this is "Driving with the Devil" by objectlesson on AO3.)
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