#so i tell him ‘quit with all the extra shit i’m not expecting perfection you’re a goddamn human being. just tell me you’ll try.’

[keeksandgigz]

roll for initiative (part two of lessons in alchemy)

barista!eddie munson x fem!barista!reader AU

summary: You venture into your new position at Eddie's cafe, but you seem to be having a hard time. Eddie gives you hell for refusing to be trained. The confrontation comes to a head after you say something you shouldn't have. A heated game of DnD leaves you wondering about the purpose of this place. Things heat up after you and Eddie close the store alone.

cw: 6.8k words, swearing, modern setting, Eddie and reader being mean to each other, shitty description of a DnD game, teeny bit of angst (sorry), horny sexual tension, smut, spanking, choking, not quite piv yet, fingering, denial this is 18+ minors dni!!

a/n: Surprise! One day early because I'm an impatient little shit. i dunno how to play DnD i'm going off whatever my boyfriend tells me. also kill em all IS the best metallica album, argue with the wall. Debated on making it a two- parter but i wanted to get to the smut <3 pls like and reblog! feedback always appreciated and my ask box is always open if u wanna talk!!!

baby taglist: @corrodedcoffincumslut, @sleepy-bunnie,, @crybabyddl (let me know if you want to be added!)

Eddie's right.

You're indeed crashing and burning as you make those stupidly named lattes, but the rest of the crew is nice enough to help you along the way. Virginia really is coming into her own, quickly mastering every drink that is thrown her way.

Yet you can't shake off the feeling of Eddie stalking towards you, his hot breath on your face. How it didn’t scare you, rather, it excited you. You enjoy picking fights with him, ripping him apart and him doing the same to you. It's not healthy, but it helps with your anger.

“Those were three pumps of elderflower. I believe you need four for a large, sweetheart. Crashing and burning so soon?” he comes up behind you, startling you. 

“Get the fuck off of me before I throw this scalding hot drink at you” not when you're working. You cannot take his taunts while working. 

“Just checking up on you” he shrugs “maybe you might have changed your mind about me training you. I know these are not the dumb little detox drinks you do at your cafe. Which is really what makes the store much more interesting and attractive, doesn’t it?” 

“Eddie I swear to God” it becomes more than taunts. He seriously wants to fuck with your brain. 

“Jeff” he snaps his fingers towards the guy “I’m gonna go take my lunch, you’re in charge ‘til I’m back” his attention diverts away from you for a second, then back to you. “Could you be a dear and make me an extra hot flat white with almond milk? Add a couple pumps of Irish cream syrup in there. I’m expecting a white dot, after all if you’re so perfect you don’t need training that’s gonna be a walk in the park for ya, huh?” he leans against the counter and he’s so condescending it makes your knees tremble. 

“Yeah, duh. I’ll spit in it for ya too. Sounds good?” you panic a bit. Flat whites are not your forte. 

“I knew you’ve been spitting in my drinks, sweetheart. Kinda hot, to be honest. But that’s a violation, wouldn’t wanna get Jim involved, do we?” he raises his eyebrows at you, looking down at you, making you feel like a coffee bean on the ground. Kinda hot. 

“I was just joking, dickhead” 

“Hm. Better be. Another filthy word from you and I’m sending you home.” he whispers. “Alright, going on my lunch. Virginia, you’re off you can go home, Chrissy, take your last break in thirty minutes” and with that, he disappears to one of the tables, watching you make his drink.

That should be a form of cruel and unusual punishment. Just him staring at you, making sure you get his drink right. Pull two ristretto shots.

You aren't buzzing anymore, rather, your brain begins shutting off, drained by all the tension that has been building between you and Eddie. Two pumps of Irish cream. Maybe you actually aren't good enough to be here. Froth the almond milk. Maybe he's right, maybe you are meant to work in a mediocre cafe, making shitty drinks. Espresso first, then milk. You aren't good enough for this level of mastery. 

Fuck. No white dot. 

You tremble as you walk towards Eddie, sitting at his table, watching you bring him a cup of mediocre coffee. 

“No white dot” he says, looking at you with displeasure. 

“I’m sorry, I-”he interrupts you.

“You wanna get trained or are you gonna be a little know-it-all and then deliver me this?” he sips on his flat white. 

“Ok, fine. Train me, whatever.”Embarrassment overtakes you, wanting a hole to form under your feet and engulf you. 

He's right, he has been right all along. Tears begin to prick at your eyes.

“You okay there? Y’know I was joking, right? It doesn’t matter I just-” a spark of guilt lights itself in his throat, you look like you're about to cry. 

“Can I take a second?” you say, the knot in your throat threatening to snap any second. 

“Yeah, um go- go take your break” he breathes. Fuck, he's made you cry. 

You run off towards the back, wanting to disappear. Everything that has happened within those past two days begin to wash over you.

Your cafe is gone, the project you had worked on with your dad before he got sick, gone for the next year. And he’d likely not see it reopen.

Eddie being an asshole, holding a grudge on you because you took his customers, making your life a living hell. 

You sit in the back as you wipe some tears that fell from your eyes. Across the room, there's a door that you have not seen before, and it's ajar.

Curiosity gets the best of you, as you walk into a small, secluded room. It's full of beakers and jars of ingredients, really selling the whole alchemist thing. You look through the ingredients elderflower, rose, peppermint, honey, basil. Basil syrup sounds disgusting. 

You turn towards the work bench, noticing a bottle full of clear liquid labeled lavender syrup. You open it and immediately smell the astringent flavor coming from the bottle. You pour some on your finger and take a taste. Ew.

He needs a better lavender syrup recipe.

“The fuck are you doing in here?” Eddie’s voice makes you drop the bottle to the floor, shattering and spilling the astringent liquid on the floor. 

“Oh- shit sorry! I was just- i just got curious” 

“You can’t just come in here and act like you own the place. Curious my ass, you were trying to steal” he accuses, and that hurts you.

“You know I won’t fucking do that, I take my work seriously. Also your lavender syrup tastes like ass, and basil syrup? That sounds foul” you wince, stepping over the broken glass, to make your way back to the front.

He grabs your arm and stops you. “Aren’t you gonna clean that up? Broom’s in the closet” he says, offering you a smug smile. 

“Get the fuck away from me, asshole” you reply, jerking away from his grip. 

“Alright that’s it” is all he says before he slams you against the wall.

He's close. He's so fucking close. 

Your back slams against the brick, hitting a random canvas panel. You can feel his breath on your face, the smell of coffee and cologne inundating your senses. 

“You have been a fucking pain in my ass since you opened your dumb little cafe. You’ve been rude, unruly, untidy and down right mean towards me, and I’m fucking over it” he seethes, he has you caged in between his tattooed arms and all you can think of is tracing every line of his tattoos with the tips of your fingers.

“It’s been four fucking hours, y’hear me? Four hours and I’m sick of you. Y’think you’re cute? You’re a fucking brat, sweetheart, and I don’t like dealing with brats like you.” Your stomach feels funny, like you're taking on a challenge rather than a scolding.

“Clean your shit up and go home, I don’t wanna see your fucking face today. Come back when you have gained some common sense in that empty fucking head” he lowers his arms, but you aren't done. 

“Or what? You think you’re so scary, Eddie, with your stupid tattoos, your fucking stupid hair and your stupid satanic shirts. I don’t give a shit who you are, I’m employed to work here and you can’t fucking send me home because you don’t like me. I’ll fucking report you, freak” 

Freak. His breath hitches at that, years of high school bullying getting under his skin again, making him swallow hard at the unwelcome memory of being slammed against a locker on Monday mornings before class. He stiffens up.

“Alright” he swallows “clean this up and get back to work, I don’t wanna see you right now” you notice that his demeanor has changed, you visibly hit a nerve. Guilt pools at your chest.

“But what about- about the training?” you ask, voice hitching.

“I’ll get Gareth to train you, Virginia should have gone home already. That way we’re both happy. Take tomorrow off, I’ll see you Tuesday” and with that he leaves.

He keeps himself buried in his office until the end of your shift. He can't bear to stand the sight of you, not after you had called him a freak. That stung more than whatever stupid insult you could have flung his way. 

When you turn up on Tuesday, Eddie is nowhere to be found. 

“He took the day off,” Steve says. And you feel real fucking bad. You're scheduled for a mid- shift from three to seven.

“Hey” Jeff says “we’re closing early today ‘cause we’re doing a DnD campaign after. Since Eddie’s not here, would you mind taking over for me so I can start setting up? We close at six-thirty, so after that you can, like, sweep, do dishes and then you can go home” 

You aren't in the mood for a snide remark or a witty comment, so you just agree. “Is Eddie gonna be here tonight?” you ask. You’ve been trying to hound him to apologize for whatever happened the day before, it's clear he's avoiding you. 

He was supposed to be on the schedule. 

“Yeah uh” he replies “he’s our DM, so we kinda need him” he shrugs. 

“DM?” you froth a cup of oatmilk, turning towards him while he's making his drinks.

“Yeah. Dungeon Master?” he gives you a Isn’t that obvious? expression and goes back to his iced hazelnut macchiato. 

“Kinky” you retort, he laughs a bit. 

At six-thirty you lock up the store and you confine yourself to the back for dishes. Keeping an ear out for Eddie’s voice, hoping he’d show up before 7. 

Colette left with Steve to work on the Halloween menu and “I don’t fuck with that nerd stuff” said Steve, fixing his glasses after putting his coat on. 

“…no Henderson you don’t get it “Kill ‘Em All” is definitely Metallica’s best album, are you shitting me? …No don’t come at me with that “Enter Sandman” bullshit you’re so basic for that, you fucking poser” your ears perk up at that. It's definitely Eddie. 

You peek your head out of the back door to see him set up a big table, followed by a bunch of what look like  high school students as they sit down, with their spiral notebooks and pens.

A bunch of small figurines scattered on the cardboard mat as Eddie sits at the head of the table, pulling out a leather bound folder covered in stickers and a cardboard screen. 

They're serious about this.

You're too busy staring at the crowded table to notice Eddie running towards you.

"Daddy didn't teach you it's rude to stare?"

You press yourself against the green tile wall to let him pass, words caught in your throat as you follow him into his office.

"Apparently daddy didn't teach you that stalking is bad either. What is it? Need somethin'?" he spits out and you can feel the venom in his words.

"Yeah, I just" you clear your throat. Talking was hard. He cocks an eyebrow at you as he begins rummaging through his desk drawers.

"Well?"

"I just wanted to apologize for-"

"For being a bitch the other day? Took you long enough" he scoffs as he retrieves a small tin box containing what you assume are dice.

"Um- yeah. I guess that" you shrug and turn your feet to leave the door.

"I need to hear you say it, sweetheart. It's not a real apology otherwise, is it?" he has this ability to make you feel so incredibly small with only the power of his words. Like he's talking to a toddler.

"I don't think that's necessary, Eddie, I mean um- I have to get back to work" you protest.

"You can go back to work when you give me a full apology" he's ticking you off, gloating in his victory of you admitting defeat. The white banner you're waving slowly turning red.

"You're being a cunt, take the apology and go play your stupid nerd game" you snap, and you can see his lips curling in a wicked grin. Challenge accepted.

"All this talk of me kicking you to the curb for your filthy mouth really isn't sticking huh? Sorry sweetheart, can't accept an apology you don't mean" he shrugs, heading out of his office, you follow him suit.

"Eddie what the fuck?! Are you actually mental?" you want to strangle him, shove those dice so far down his throat he chokes and dies.

"I'd recommend you scrub those dishes really hard, I can still see the grime on the blenders. If you'll excuse me, I gotta lead my party through the rivers of Bagodan" he winks and then he walks over to his table, leaving you mortified.

You do a once- over with the dishes, while hearing Eddie's shrill voice screech and laugh every time one of his players miss. What's so fucking funny about a couple kids rolling dice?

"Looks like you've made it to the last river" he narrates in a solemn voice, deeper, hotter "Oh, but what is that? You hear shrieking from a distance. It's a sphynx. To cross the river you have to behead the sphynx and bring it to the king of Bagodan. Only then he will grant you access to the wings of Saurion the Elder, and you... will be... free" he says in a whispered tone.

"What do you do, my brave adventurers?"

"Shit" you hear one of the kids swear, he's tall with black hair. "We don't have enough hit points to kill the sphynx AND get through the king's palace guards"

"You’re astute dipshit, congrats!" says another, a girl, looking much younger than the rest.

"We would have had enough points if Dustin here, hadn't fucking sold his to the market for a stupid cloak" says Gareth, shoving the kid who you assume is Dustin

"it was aN INVISIBILITY CLOAK" Dustin yells. The room booms in laughter at the kid's tantrum.

It makes you think. About how you've never had a group of friends like that. Someone to share a common interest with. Sure, you have Colette, but you've moved to town just fairly recently, and you have lived and breathed work for the first two years. No friends to make when you're cooped up home buried in projects among projects. No friends to make when your dad is sick and you have to take him to the hospital on Saturdays for his treatment. You sigh a bit at that. Maybe your cafe exploding is the catalyst that is gonna bring you a new life, a new perspective.

Coming to a store that has unity as a top value really makes you reflect on how lonely your life has been so far.

"Alright children, let's take a break and you can talk strategy. Anyone want a drink?" He stands up from his chair and walks towards the bar. Startled, you go back to the sink and begin scrubbing.

"Y'know you can join us, right?" he leans against the green tile wall, looking at you.

"Join in on that nerd shit? No, thanks. My shift is over" you say putting the last blender on the drying rack and heading to the back.

He follows you "Okay, whatever. I just wanted to tell you it's gonna be me and you tomorrow. Chrissy said she can't make it. Something about midterms" and you roll your eyes.

"Fucking perfect. Tell me in what world does this shit always happen to me" you say exasperated, taking off your apron, which allows your shirt to rise just enough that it gives Eddie a peek of your tummy. Enough to make him gulp a little. Enough to distract him for ten seconds.

He shakes his head. "Listen, I'm not happy about it either, but let's keep it civil, okay? I do my thing, you do yours, we're outta here by 9 pm" he offers, leaning over the metal lockers.

You're not sure if it was the Dungeon Master demeanor he keeps on for the sake of his game or what, but he feels so tall. The thought of it makes you shiver. You put on your jacket.

"How you gettin' home?" he asks.

"Driving" you lie, your car broke down the day before, but you don't want him offering you a ride.

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow for closing, then" he says, giving you a tight smile.

"Yeah, bye" you respond hastily, heading out towards the bus stop. Eddie keeps an eye on you through the store window the whole time.

Wednesday night at the "Mad Alchemist" is busier than you expected. Steve left for the evening, leaving you and Eddie to man the fort by yourselves.

Meaning you have to watch him flirt with every fucking customer. Young, old, boy, girl. His self assured demeanor is like a magnet to those coffee- hungry teens, the older women just blush and deliver him a meek "aw, stop it, Eddie" swatting the air and giggling.

Because you both have been so busy, it has not given you time to run your mouth and deliver him some snarky comment.

By 8pm, the store is closed. You have an hour to sweep, clean the counters, mop and do the dishes while Eddie counts the money at the register.

There is a tense quietness in the cafe. Almost as if you know that if one opened their mouths the world would explode. Or you’d start fucking, whichever one comes first. There is no noise aside from the register opening, the broom dragging across the floor and Eddie whistling.

After a day of talking, listening, screaming, shouting, the last thing you want to do is hear Eddie whistle. You let him do it, one minute, two minutes, five minutes in hopes he would get tired.

“Eddie, please” you whine.

“Helps me count money better,” he shrugs, beginning his atrocious whistling again.

You wait one, two, five minutes again. The noise of the sweep and the whistling and the money become too much for you, so in an exasperated rage, you kick the chair in front of you.

“Eddie shUT THE FUCK UP!”

The noise of the chair is the only sound in the building. Eddie stops counting, and stops whistling.

He's just staring at you. At the fallen chair. At the broom next to your feet. You find the floor to be really interesting.

“Pick it up.” Eddie’s voice is distant. A few seconds go by, and your eyes are still on the floor.

The sound of paper being put down and the stomping of heavy boots follow, until his boots arrive in your line of sight. You can't help but raise your head.

“What part of ‘pick it up’ does not register in that head? Hm? Do you kick chairs at home?”

Defeated, you shake your head.

“Do you call your daddy names?”

Another head shake.

“Do you spit in your daddy’s coffee in the morning?” his voice becomes a whisper, so, so close to your face. So close to your lips.

“I didn’t-” he cuts you off.

“I don’t appreciate liars, sweetheart. Did you spit in my drink?” he's cornering you, making you feel small.

You nod. “Only once, though” you defend yourself.

“Only once” he mocks, chuckling to himself “sixteen.” he mutters.

“Sixteen is the number of times, from the first time i stepped foot in your goddamn cafe, I’ve seen you spit in my fuckin’ drink” he seethes, no, growls.

“Now you’re fucking lying” you interject, finding a small crumb of courage within you.

“Don’t act cute, I’ve seen you. Pick the chair up” he says, his chin tilting towards the chair on the floor.

“I can’t pick it up if your stupid arm’s in the way, can I?” he grunts and moves his arm. You bend over and picked the chair up, breathing through your teeth. You're furious.

“Watch your attitude, here we don’t-”

You snap your neck around “You’re a fucking control freak, that’s what you are” you mutter. There's that word again. Freak.

“Don’t you fucking dare call me that word again” he's furious.

You turn around to face him. It's your turn to be close “Or what? You gonna spank me?” it's barely a whisper, looking at him through your lashes. A challenge.

He exhales, crossing his arms “You know what? That’s the best idea you’ve had since you’ve stepped foot in this place. Bend over the table” He whispers, and you freeze.

If there is a definition to fuck around and find out, you're it.

“Seems you might be a bit hard of hearing, sweetheart. I said bend over.” he says, more gently, yet keeping that domineering aura to him. He nudges your arm.

You quietly follow through.

“Now you’re following orders. Before I start I need to know you’re okay with this” he whispers, caressing your back in an almost soothing manner.

You nod.

He tuts “None of that shit. I’m not doing anything until I have your green light. With words”

“I-” words suddenly become hard. You swallow and breathe through your nose “I’m- I’m okay with this”

There is no denying you're extremely turned on, in addition to being revved up by your previous fight. It feels like wildfire spreading itself from every tip of your body, finding a home right between your legs.

“Alright, good. If you want me to stop we can stop at any time, just say ‘chainmail’” he says, looking around to check if the blinds had been lowered. He has a safeword. He knows what he's doing.

“O-okay” you say with all the power you can muster.

“You wanna act like a toddler, sweetheart? I’ll treat ya like a fuckin’ toddler” he says, before delivering the first smack right on the meat of your left butt cheek.

You’ve tried spanking before, with previous partners, but this is different. The smacks are calculated, like he knows where to hit. A yelp escapes you.

“Need ya to count” he says, caressing the area he just hit.

“‘Kay, fuck. One” you exhale, still feeling his handprint on your ass. The red hot sting from the impact leaving tiny pinpricks through the fabric of your jeans. 

Smack. Two.

“How ‘bout this?” he stops, speaking to no one, really. “How ‘bout I give you one spank for every time you’ve spit in my coffee, hm?”

That makes you tremble a bit. Sixteen slaps. 

“I dunno if I can, I mean I-” 

“Then you know what to say if it gets too much, right? Say ‘Yes, Eddie, I do’” his voice makes your knees give out as his other hand, the one that isn't squeezing and groping your ass, makes its way into your hair and pulls. 

“Ow- Fuck, Jesus Christ Eddie!” you yell, but the pull at your scalp makes you wish he’d drop the antics, pull your pants down and fuck you immediately. 

“Not what I wanna hear, sweetheart. Try that again” He smacks your ass again, pulling his hand out of your hair to hold your back down from the waist. 

“Three, fuck. Yes, Eddie, I-I do” you exhale and prop yourself up on your elbows. 

“Good girl,” he says. Good girl. He could easily smack you in the face and that is would shock you less. Where the fuck did he learn all this shit?

By the time you’ve reached spank number ten you think you're ready to tap out. Tears welling in your eyes, making your vision go blurry. You're turned on, but Eddie’s heavy hand is becoming too painful.

He notices you trying to squirm away from him with every hit of his hand, all he says is “You know what to say, don’t you, sweetheart?” 

But you let him keep going. Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen.

The last slap feels like the roughest, leaving in its wake the phantom of a heavy hand. His hand rubbing circles on your ass, almost like he doesn't feel ready to stop touching you.

You turn your head around, so you're able to see his face.

“Mmmm, so what now?” you ask, still hazy “Gonna take me home, Eddie? Finish the job?”it's like your brain has forgotten who you are talking to.

“C’mere” he says, sitting you down on the table, your ass rough and sore under the fabric of your pants.

You can feel the slick feeling between your legs through the seam of your black jeans, hoping he’d move you to keep going, take you home, his office, his van, anywhere. 

His body settles between your legs as his hands run through the expanse of your stomach, your back. Your hands make their way to the buckle of his belt, trying to quickly undo his jeans. Eddie inhales as if to convince himself to stop you as he grabs your wrists and pushes them to your chest, his belt left unbuckled “Not tonight,” he murmurs.

You pout in protest.

“Aww, you’re pouting” he mocks, a dry laugh escapes his lips. It brings a twang of embarrassment "pouting 'cause I'm not letting you take my dick in your mouth, sweetheart?" he taunts. 

“I‘m not pouting” you mutter, looking at the floor. His hands grab your chin, lifting your eyes to make you look up at him. He looks so tall standing over you like that, eyes still glossed over, pupils blown from the spanking he’s just given you. 

“You look at me when I speak to you, yeah?” Oh fuck. You know better this time. 

“Yeah” you croak out, nodding your head in case he doesn't get the message. 

“Yeah? You liked getting spanked? Being put in your place?” his demeanor never fails in making you feel impossibly small.

The hand that holds your chin travels down your neck and you lean into his touch, in the way his hand wraps itself around your throat, warm and rough. Who are you to say he isn't gonna strangle you and kill you? 

But the feeling of his hand around the column of your neck, covering its whole surface area feels too intoxicating, like you want him to make you stop thinking. Your breath hitches. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t have my rings on. With the way you’ve been running your mouth you would’ve more than deserved it” his grip on your neck going from resting to actually applying pressure to the sides of your throat. You gasp. 

He just watches you, eyes glossy and desperate while you try to press your thighs together to relieve some pressure. Poor thing. He almost feels bad for you. The way he sees you keen into his touch, labored breath, watching your chest rise and fall slowly. 

“We can’t do this here, Eddie. The health violations” you say,  barely a whisper, mustering whatever breath and thought you can. Your brain feels foggy and fuzzy with the slight pressure of air being constricted. He chuckles. 

“Didn’t you go to UCLA or something? Aren’t you supposed to be really smart?” his tone is mocking, you swallow at the embarrassment, hand letting up on your throat to grab your hand. He isn't here to be soft with you. He is here to make a point.

“Me choking you got you actin’ all dumb already?’M impressed. C’mon get off the table, we can’t be here” he says, making you stand up. 

“Where- where are we going?” you feel winded, and you haven't even done anything. He leads you through the cafe, the bar, the back of house, where the drying dishes sit abandoned on the rack. Right at the threshold to his back office, the cold green tile arch pressing against your back.

“I don’t know, but I really wanna kiss you right now.” and you feel like your breath has just gotten knocked out of you. He wants to kiss you?

"You wanna- huh?" he slams you against the wall, just t prove a point "Shut the fuck up" he says as he puts his lips on yours. Famished, animalistic.

There is no room for gentleness. No room for sweet caresses and soft praises. His hands groping and feeling your hips, grinding into him. The friction against his tattered jeans make a whine escape you. Too much and not enough.

His teeth clash with yours as you both open your mouths, the way he tastes made you dizzy. His mint gum and cigarettes inundate your senses as you pull at the hair tie that is keeping Eddie's unruly hair in place.

Reaching under the mane of hair, you pull at his nape, where his curls are smaller, more defined. He groans.

His nose skims your jaw and licks at the hinge between the bone and your neck, making you yelp. A small oh escapes you when his hands work to untuck your shirt out of your jeans, his cold hands sneaking past the barrier of clothing to touch at the skin of your stomach, the sides of your breasts.

His mouth is warm against your neck, tracing every ridge, every line, every mole, 'til he reaches the juncture between your neck and your shoulder and he bites.

"Eddie, you fucking freak don't bite me" you hiss, head thrown back as he lifts your shirt up, leaving it completely abandoned on the floor.

He moves you off the wall and into his office, mouth not stopping his assault on your neck, stumbling towards his cluttered desk. With one move, a space big enough for you to sit is created. His shirt comes off in the process. His pale chest, skinny, but toned and littered with tattoos, is the only thing you are able to pay attention to.

"I hear that fucking word come outta your mouth again I'll-" he begins.

"You what? More spanking? Consider me terrified" you interrupt, all an evil plan to egg him on. Blinking your eyes up at him. He is seething.

"God, do you ever shut up?" he asks, a groan leaving his lips continuing to kiss you, teeth and tongue and spit, his hands coming out from under your shirt to grab your chin.

You look up at him, hair wild and unruly, eyes blown out, a wicked glint in his eye, almost like he's plotting something.

“Open your mouth” he says, and you looked at him, a puzzled look on your face. He squeezes your cheeks in response, forcing your mouth open. “You fucking brat” he mutters.

You keep your mouth open, expecting his finger, something. Instead, a glob of spit makes its way onto your tongue. He spit in your mouth. You throb.

“Eddie what the fuck-” you begin, but he interrupts you.

“You didn’t seem to mind spitting in my coffee, did you? Consider this a payback. Swallow it.” he smirks against your lips, lightly tapping his fingers on your cheek, not quite a slap. You obey immediately for the first time that night.

His hand travels down to the seam of your jeans, your breath becoming more labored with all the building tension from the night.

“Eddie…please” you whine, arching into his hand, not wanting to pull back anymore. You want release, brain hazy with the feeling of being under him, the way his rough hands are touching you, exploring you, grabbing and groping at the curves of your body as you arch into him.

His hand begins moving back and forth, the heel of his palm making direct contact with the seam of your pants, forcing a strangled whine out of you.

You grind your hips in sync with his hand, as the other sits on your cheek, cupping it, moaning in his mouth at the small amount of friction he's giving you. “Can I take your pants off?” he asks, soft against your mouth. You’ve never nodded so fast in your life.

He quickly makes work of taking your shoes and jeans off, pooled at his feet while his hands caress and grope their way up your thighs.

“You’re cute when you’re not being a cunt, you know that?” he whispers against your mouth, hand ghosting over your panties, practically feeling the heat radiating off of you.

“Fuck you, Eddie,” you say through gritted teeth, motioning to hit him in the chest. He stops you, grabbing your wrists with his hands.

“I suggest keeping that filthy mouth at bay if you really want me to do something about that big, wet patch on your panties, hm?” he whispers, licking your bottom lip, his hand still keeping an iron grip on your wrists.

“How ‘bout you stop being a cunt and fuck me?” you’ve had enough of his teasing and taunting.

“Who said anything about fucking?” he chuckles, his hand moving down to grope at your ass. “No, see, that would be improper, don’t you think? Fucking your boss in his office. You kinky bitch” he delivers a sharp smack down to your ass, reviving the dull sting from the spanking earlier.

“You’re not my fucking boss, Eddie. Stop talking and- ohmygod”

His other hand begins massaging over the crotch of your panties, making direct contact with your clit over the fabric. “Made you this wet from spanking you? Think you might have actually been the freak this whole time, sweetheart.” He hooks his fingers on the sides of your panties “Lift.” He taps your thigh, you immediately lift your hips to let him take your panties off.

He laughs when he sees the mess that he’s made of your pussy.

“Fuck stop- stop laughing” you whisper out while his hands begin to spread your legs further.

“I think you secretly love me laughing at you. You think you’re so tough, bein’ all mean, callin’ me a freak like it doesn’t turn you on just imagining how much of a fucking freak I really am, huh sweetheart?” he skims your jaw with his nose, his words making you shiver as you clench around nothing.

His free hand sneaking its way around your neck, squeezing just enough to make you squeak.

Your hips lift off the desk, looking to find some kind of stimulation aside from Eddie’s cruel teasing touches.

He looks at you through his dark lashes “What is it, baby?” baby. baby. baby. The nickname makes your head spin.

“Eddie, I- fuck- please! I need-” your hips arch off the wooden surface as you feel his fingers prod your entrance.

“You need my fingers? Can you ask me nicely?” you want to kill him. He's reveling in the torture that he's putting you through.

“I f-ucking ah hate you” but you aren't really sure if you believe that yourself.

“You hate me sweetheart? I’m hurt. You won’t mind then if I just leave you here, do you?” he caresses over your inner thigh, the tips of his fingers coated in slick, clear arousal.

“No!” your hips lift once again ��your fingers…please” His smile is pleased as one of his fingers enter you.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it? Good girl.” He's making your head spin, a choked noise leaves your lips as he pumps his finger in and out, finally getting the stimulation you need.

“More” you whisper, his other hand still on your throat.

“So greedy. Y’gonna thank me? Say ‘thank you, Eddie’”

At that point you can't even think about acting up. “F-fuck. Thank- thank you Eddie” and with that, he adds another finger.

God, you already feel so full and teetering the edge.

“Good girl. Now that I think about it, I believe you owe me an apology” he begins, his fingers working mercilessly inside you, while a string of breathy ah ah ahs are all the sounds you could muster.

“You were so mean to me the other day, I didn’t appreciate your tone while you were trying to apologize” he taunts, his fingers prodding deeper inside you. A small yelp escapes you.

“You were- you were ah” his fingers curl on your g-spot and your vision goes white.

“What was that? I was what, baby?” he begins to thumb at your clit, smiling like a maniac at the state he's reducing you in.

“Oh yes there” no idea how you're gonna finish your sentence.

“Feels good huh? Needa finish what you were saying, sweetheart, can’t have you going stupid on me just yet” his hand on your throat moves up to your cheek, delivering a couple light smacks to your face. You clench.

“Fuck, uh, you we-were being a oh god cunt” you say, mustering all the mental strength you can.

“Is that right? Funny how my fingers are in yours right now and you don’t seem to complain.” He laughs to himself, his thumb speeding up its assault on your clit.

“C’mon, sweetheart. I just need you to say ‘Sorry Eddie, I won’t be a bitch to you again.’ Can you say that or is your brain too fucking far gone to understand a single word i’m saying?” he teases, which briefly brings you back from the ecstasy of Eddie’s fingers working wonders on you.

“Fuck you, Eddie” you hiss through your teeth, immediately regretting it at the feeling of the coil in your belly beginning to tighten.

“Oh. It’s like that then. Alright” he simply says as he picks up his pace. Head thrown back as you revel in the feeling of nearing the edge of your release.

“Oh shit, get-getting close” you breathe.

“Apologize and I’ll let you cum” he smiles, a wicked show of bared teeth that only makes you both want to punch him and fuck him.

“Fuck n- Oh God- ‘m not apologizing for- for shit” you arch your back, trying to make yourself cum before he changes his mind.

“Fucking apologize” he insists.

“Fuck you” you say, followed by the unwelcome feeling of emptiness as he takes his fingers out. You really thought he was bluffing.

An empty ache grows in your stomach, feeling unfulfilled and disappointed. You sit there in disbelief, as he cleans his fingers off with a tissue.

“Pity” he shrugs “Get dressed, I’m taking you home” he turns around, heading towards the front.

You throw the box of kleenex at his head. You miss.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that?” you jump off his desk, ignoring the dull throb between your legs as you put your panties and jeans back on, following the trail of your clothes he left in his wake.

“Could’ve said sorry” he just says, closing up the register, while you put on your shirt and shoes “C’mon my van is around the back” he offers, grabbing his keys.

“I’m not fucking getting in your car. I can drive” you protest.

“Yeah, uh huh, you and what car, you fucking liar? Saw you at the bus stop the other day, and your car isn’t in the parking lot. You either let me drive or you can sleep in here tonight.”

You let him drive you home. The sound of Judas Priest blaring through the speaker only makes the stubborn silence between you two louder.

The ten minute drive to your house feels like an hour, as you itch to get off the dingy van and take care of what he left unfinished.

He finally parks up in front of your house, you quickly book it towards your door as he shouts “You’re welcome sweetheart” before you fumble with the keys and enter inside. He stays there until you do.

Your dad was asleep already, so you crack his bedroom door to check up on him. You sigh. Everything seems to be alright.

Once all the lights are off, you run towards your room. Still in disbelief of what happened with Eddie, you strip off your coffee- smelling clothes, wincing at the thought of Eddie’s hands sneaking under your shirt, his fingers hooking on the sides of your panties.

The feeling of hatred and arousal battling each other off while you recall his stupid smiling face as he removed his fingers from inside you. The dull empty ache as you came down from the euphoria of his touch and words.

That night, you kick yourself for not saying sorry to him.

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

Far From An Imposition - AO3

@wincestielfttfwin asked for some A-Yao feels: may I humbly offer you 10k of kind-of plotty smut with feelings? This is another pre-’All Dreams Were Worth Keeping’ NieYao smut oneshot, a direct follow-up to my other pre-fic NieYao smut oneshot in this universe, ‘Seems Like A Good Thing’. I just really like them fucking and being shit at communication while they do it, okay? 😂

-//-

“Meng Yao.”

Meng Yao, currently up to his elbows in other people’s bullshit problems, doesn’t bother looking up at Nie Mingjue looming in his doorway.

“Yes?”

“You know it’s 6, don’t you?”

“Rest assured, Mingjue, I always know what time it is.” Meng Yao’s reply is perhaps a bit too tart, but Nie Mingjue doesn’t seem fazed by it. Rather he steps into the office fully and shuts the door behind himself with a quiet click. The office is likely emptying out quickly enough on the other side of it that the extra layer of privacy isn’t strictly necessary, but Meng Yao doesn’t mind. He simply makes a note of it in the background of everything else running through his mind and dismisses it just as easily. Whatever the reason for it, it doesn’t matter right now -

“A-Yao,” Nie Mingjue says, low under the furious tacking of Meng Yao’s keyboard, and Meng Yao freezes. Entirely without his permission, his near-perfect memory replays the moment Nie Mingjue had called him that in the dark of a hotel room, the pair of them finally daring to cross a line Meng Yao had never thought he’d see himself cross. Nie Mingjue’s good at that, inviting him to see ways of doing things, possibilities for his life, that he wouldn’t have bothered to think of without him. Whether that’s necessarily a good thing remains to be seen.

His breath hitches in his chest in the moment before he returns to typing, though he does at least look up from the screen to meet Nie Mingjue’s eyes only to find him looking…concerned. Concerned? For him?

“Mingjue,” he acknowledges with audible hesitation – this is as much uncharted territory as that night (that week) at the hotel had been, and he hates being caught off guard no matter how many times Nie Mingjue does it.

“Whatever you’re working on can wait. It’s Friday.”

Meng Yao blinks and, despite his best intentions, fails to see the point of this argument.

“Yes, it’s Friday…that means two days of leaving things unfinished and an extra workload for Monday morning, which I’d rather avoid.”

“What are you working on that’s so time sensitive?” Nie Mingjue asks then with the beginnings of a glare creeping across his unfairly handsome face. Meng Yao can never tell if he loves or hates that Nie Mingjue is just as attractive when he’s pissed as he is when he’s happy or – as Meng Yao’s brain is still unhelpfully replaying for him in exquisite detail despite the last example of this having happened weeks ago now – completely blissed (read: fucked) out.

“There was a scheduling error in accounting and a report that was meant to be sent out two days ago hasn’t even been started. I would have worked on it earlier but there were other things I needed to wrap up first, and I understand that overdue work should take priority but -“

“A-Yao, I’m not trying to interrogate you,” Nie Mingjue interrupts. “I trust that you did everything in the best way you could and that I would’ve done it the same way if I’d known. You don’t have to defend yourself to me. I just wanted to know what it was – so you’re doing this report right now?”

Meng Yao has to blink a few times through the euphoria of being trusted to be competent. Just like that. No questions, no hesitation. Nie Mingjue trusts him, and Meng Yao still doesn’t quite know what to do with that.

“Yes, I started about half an hour ago. I expect it’ll take me another hour or two to sort through everything and get it all in place, and then I’ll have to spend some time double checking it all to make sure it’s correct, then I can…um..-“

Meng Yao trails off as Nie Mingjue’s expression sours further, definitely glaring now. “Literally none of this is in your job description,” Nie Mingjue frowns. “How did this end up with you?”

Meng Yao barely refrains from rolling his eyes sheerly out of self-preservation. The overwhelming number of things he does for this company that aren’t in his job description goes way beyond covering for the accounting department’s clerical fuck-ups, but he’s pretty sure if he says something to that effect his reputation amongst the others in the office will plummet even further when it makes them subject to Nie Mingjue’s irritation.

“I try my best to help solve any problem I can,” he demurs instead, but Nie Mingjue’s fierce expression doesn’t budge an inch.

“What do you have left to do today that is in your actual, normal job description in my office, not accounting or marketing or whoever else decided they need you this week?”

Meng Yao checks his mental list quickly, double checks it against the written list next to his computer, and says, “Nothing. Your schedule for next week is all in order, my inbox is cleared of everything urgent, I’ve returned all the necessary calls for the week, and the next project I’m expecting to need to handle won’t cross my desk until Wednesday at the earliest with the print delays in marketing for the rebranding needed before next month’s product launch expo.”

Nie Mingjue takes a deep breath in and lets it out slowly with a shake of his head as if to clear it. “Yep. Good. You’ve done more than enough - send what you have so far back to accounting, tell them to fix their shit by Wednesday, and then come get dinner with me. We can talk about work if it’ll make you feel better about skipping out on time.”

Meng Yao stares first at Nie Mingjue and then at his monitors, one far too bright with a nearly-blank spreadsheet and the other sporting multiple open windows full of figures that he’s only just begun to make sense of, considering he doesn’t know much of anything about the intricacies of accounting yet.

“But-“

“I can buy you takeout to go home with if you don’t want to eat with me.”

“No, it’s not that! I just-“

“Do more than I would ever ask you to. Come on, A-Yao. I’m heading out, and I’m not leaving my office manager behind to do shit that isn’t even his job while I go home for the weekend. Send an email back to whoever it is that dumped this on you – use me as an excuse if you want, tell them you have to prioritize a project for me and they can sort out their own mistakes.”

God, what Meng Yao wouldn’t give to have that sort of easy authority. That unquestionable confidence in his own word having that much weight behind it. He doesn’t have it of course, and likely won’t for as long as he’s in this position, but for now he doesn’t have any qualms about borrowing Nie Mingjue’s with his explicit permission to do so.

Under the other man’s watchful eye he closes down everything but the spreadsheet and his inbox. He opens the email he’d received from accounting and attaches his meager beginnings to the message, along with a text body full of polite business-speak bullshit to the effect of what Nie Mingjue had told him to say. He doesn’t apologize, and he doesn’t offer to look it over again. It’s surprisingly heady to just wash his hands of the problem and tell the people responsible to actually take responsibility for their shit.

By the time he shuts the computer down Nie Mingjue’s frown has faded into something vaguely smug, and he stands up from where he’d sat down in one of the chairs in front of the desk, his hands tucked into his pockets with his thumbs sticking out of the too-tight fabric. (Meng Yao knows from careful research that his ass looks absolutely indecent when he does that, and he thinks again of that week and how many times Nie Mingjue had let him fuck him with a sort of wistfulness that nearly knocks him breathless.)

“Do you want to go out somewhere for dinner or do you want to come to mine?” Nie Mingjue asks as they head for the elevator together through the dimmed office. He offers a nod and a smile to the cleaning staff they pass in the hall and Meng Yao wants to climb him like a fucking tree.

“I don’t want to impose.”

“Neither option is an imposition or else I wouldn’t have offered, A-Yao,” Nie Mingjue huffs, but he sounds a little amused at least. “Seriously. Just tell me where you want to go and we’ll go.”

Meng Yao very very quickly weighs the pros and cons of both choices against each other, and in the end it’s not even a competition. “Yours, then,” he says as nonchalantly as he can, like the deciding factor wasn’t the likelihood of getting Nie Mingjue in bed being so much higher in the man’s own house than if they go out.

“You got it.”

The elevator opens again then and they stride across the main lobby in step, both of them offering a nod to the evening security guard behind the desk. Nie Mingjue thankfully doesn’t live too far from the office, his house tucked away in one of the older neighborhoods in town, old enough to have weathered the corporatization of the city around it intact, at least for now. Meng Yao steps down out of Nie Mingjue’s SUV and tries not to be too obvious about glancing around the bit of the street he can see, but Nie Mingjue isn’t looking at him anyway.

“There you are, da-ge, what in the world took you so long?” Nie Huaisang calls from the front door and Meng Yao stiffens. He’d completely forgotten about Nie Huaisang’s existence, let alone his presence in the Nie house – they don’t really interact too much at work considering Meng Yao’s hectic schedule and Nie Huaisang’s aversion to anything resembling even a token effort at productivity, but that’s no excuse for Meng Yao to have forgotten he’d be here.

“I had to force Meng Yao to leave, it took some convincing,” Nie Mingjue snorts as he strides up the walk. “If you’re that hungry you should’ve just ordered something.”

“And miss out on your cooking? Not a chance,” Nie Huaisang sniffs. Meng Yao follows behind Nie Mingjue and tries not to think too hard about the man’s constant fussing over him to eat and take care of himself in the context of apparently doing the same to Nie Huaisang, albeit apparently a little less nicely than he does it for Meng Yao which is…something.

A Thing.

He’s not thinking about it.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Nie Mingjue tells him when they step over the threshold. As if this isn’t one of the more surreal moments of Meng Yao’s life; as if this is a completely normal Friday evening; as if they do this.

He comforts himself at least with the knowledge that Nie Huaisang seems just as uncomfortable with his unexpected presence, eyes darting around like he’s nervous Meng Yao is going to ask him to do something work-related out of hours and in his own house.

“So. Um. Hi,” Nie Huaisang eventually titters.

“Hello Huaisang,” he replies politely, because if he doesn’t retain the basic social skills Meng Shi drilled into him as a boy then he has nothing left in this life at all. “I apologize for interrupting your evening, I hope you won’t mind.”

“No no no, not at all, not at all. Da-ge can invite whoever he wants over, of course-”

“It’s just dinner, A-Sang,” Nie Mingjue calls from somewhere in the depths of the house – most likely the kitchen, seeing as it’s punctuated with a pot being set down a little too hard on a ceramic cooktop. “Don’t make it weird, you’ll freak him out except he’ll be too polite to say so.”

“I’m perfectly comfortable, Mingjue,” Meng Yao lies through his best customer service smile. Nie Huaisang seems to study him for a moment before he shrugs and flounces off into the house after his brother, leaving Meng Yao free to slip off his shoes and carefully place his bag down just so right beside them, attempting to take up as little space as possible in the Nie home.

He heads down the short hallway when he’s finished to find that it opens out into the living room directly, stairs to the second floor straight ahead and a shadowed hallway tucked just to the left of them. Directly to his left is the kitchen, currently more brightly lit than the lamps in the living room can provide, and he turns to find Nie Mingjue has already shrugged out of his suit jacket and is rolling his sleeves up his ridiculously muscular forearms – a feature Meng Yao has never felt all that strongly about one way or the other…right up until he’d gotten to see Nie Mingjue’s up close and personal on that Fucking Work Retreat (as he’s officially dubbed it for his mental filing purposes), and now he’s discovered that so long as Nie Mingjue’s are the forearms in question, he’s…intrigued.

“Want anything to drink?” Nie Mingjue offers without looking up from the knife he’s sharpening with casual expertise, quick and fluid. “We’ve got white or red wine, whiskey, water, juice, I think A-Sang’s got some of that weird kombucha stuff stashed at the back of the fridge becoming sentient..”

“Wine would be lovely. Whichever you think will go best with dinner,” Meng Yao is quick to assure before he’s subjected any further to Nie Mingjue being casually thoughtful in a way that has no right to make him as flustered as it does. Nie Mingjue doesn’t seem to think anything amiss, just nods and fetches a glass down from the top shelf of the cabinet in front of him (with an ease that just isn’t fair, the fucking giant). Nie Huaisang snags a bottle of red from the fridge – Meng Yao can’t see the label from where he’s hovering uncertainly in the doorway to know if it’s any good or not – and within moments Nie Huaisang is ferrying the glass from the counter at Nie Mingjue’s elbow to Meng Yao’s waiting hands.

This is too damn weird, but Meng Yao is in too deep now, and Meng Shi didn’t raise a quitter. If the Nie brothers want to act like this isn’t definitely the weirdest meal they’ll ever have then fine, Meng Yao can play that game too. Definitely.

He’s halfway through his glass of wine and reeling a little bit from watching the brothers interact in their own element, without the structure of the office to guide their behavior, when Nie Huaisang suddenly looks over from where he’s poking at Nie Mingjue’s cheek while he cooks to instead lock his sights on Meng Yao. He stiffens a bit in anticipation of being drawn into their easy banter – something he’s not sure he could ever manage even with serious effort – but Nie Huaisang just gives him a wide smile and dramatically declares to the room at large,

“House tour!! I love giving house tours, come with me!”

Meng Yao, amused despite his best intentions to remain neutral, simply transfers his wine safely to one hand just in time for Nie Huaisang to grab his arm and loop his own through it as casually as if they’re not just (slightly uneasy) workplace acquaintances. Nie Huaisang uses their linked elbows to drag him out of the kitchen trailed by the sound of Nie Mingjue calling out, “Dinner’s in 20 minutes, A-Sang!”

“Okay da-ge!”

The next few minutes pass in a blur of cheerful, slightly absent-minded chatter about the interesting spots around the house that Nie Huaisang shows him to – the den just off the living room; the sunroom down the hall, currently full to bursting with potted plants under various soft yellow grow lights; the garden out the back, though there’s not much to be seen in the dark like this besides the koi pond glittering in the light spilling from the living room windows. Nie Huaisang also points out the dim, hulking form of a prefabricated wooden shed tucked away on the opposite side of the garden from the pond and explains that it’s Nie Mingjue’s studio for his leatherworking projects, the idea of which is so thoroughly distracting Meng Yao barely notices it as they return inside and head upstairs.

“That’s da-ge’s side of the house to the left, and mine is over here to the right,” Nie Huaisang gestures, oblivious to Meng Yao’s distraction. “Da-ge’s got a home gym and that’s his bedroom right at the end of the hall, and then here’s mine!” Nie Huaisang flings the door open with a dramatic flourish that leads Meng Yao to suspect that this is the entire goal of this little ‘house tour’.

A hunch that turns out to be entirely correct, as far as he can tell, as he’s immediately cajoled into helping Nie Huaisang choose an outfit to wear out clubbing after dinner. It’s a small mercy that Nie Huaisang doesn’t really want his opinion other than to approve the choices he’s already made, since his mind is full of pleasant static created by the knowledge that post-dinner it’ll just be him and Nie Mingjue alone in the house and his tentative hopes might not be dashed after all.

Dinner, when they head back downstairs in response to Nie Mingjue’s call, is..noisier than Meng Yao would have expected. Nie Huaisang pouts and jokes and teases his brother just as much as he had while he was watching Nie Mingjue cook, and Nie Mingjue takes it in stride with just enough mildly-snappish retorts that Nie Huaisang doesn’t take anything too far towards genuinely irritating. Meng Yao is, thankfully, left mostly to his own devices to eat and observe them interacting together like a behavioral scientist, fascinated by the dynamic of two such different people. Nie Huaisang ropes him into the conversation enough that he doesn’t feel left out, but also doesn’t attempt to get him to tease Nie Mingjue with him, leaving him free to maintain at least some semblance of professional distance without ending up too isolated.

It’s an extremely delicate balance, and Nie Huaisang handles it masterfully. Meng Yao puts a tick mark or two on his mental list of how many reasons he can spot to perhaps try to get a little bit closer to Nie Huaisang.

When their plates are empty Nie Huaisang jumps to his feet to clear the table, and Meng Yao raises an eyebrow at the surprising display of industriousness as Nie Mingjue rolls his eyes.

“He can’t leave to go out until he helps me clean up,” Nie Mingjue explains with a sigh. “And just dumping the dishes in the sink unfortunately counts as ‘helping’ in the loosest sense of the word. It’s not worth debating it with him, believe me.”

“Done, da-ge!” Nie Huaisang chirps and practically flies out of the kitchen to hurry upstairs and, presumably, get changed into the outfit Meng Yao had ‘helped’ him pick out by making appreciative noises at all the right times.

“Is that a house rule or simply a rule for Nie Huaisang?” Meng Yao asks around the rim of his nearly empty water glass. He’s supremely glad he’s not predisposed to blushing, as he has every reason to be embarrassed about his obvious attempt at fishing to extend his stay long enough that he won’t be expected to leave when Nie Huaisang does. “Am I also forbidden to leave until I help you clean up?”

Nie Mingjue snorts at that and downs the last dreg of his after-dinner whiskey (which reminds Meng Yao way too much of the fact that he’d also ordered a whiskey for himself after that first dinner as well on the Fucking Work Retreat a mere hour and a half before he’d let Meng Yao fuck him senseless) but, and this is crucial, he doesn’t say no.

“Normally I’d say a guest isn’t allowed to help, but something tells me you’d really hate sitting around not doing anything while I take care of things in here,” Nie Mingjue says, and it’s teasing and snarky and relaxed in a way Meng Yao wants to hear so much more of.

“Correct.”

“Alright. Then yes, you’re forbidden from leaving until we’ve cleaned up.”

“Perfect, I’ll get started then,” he says in his best ‘I’m-just-the-most-helpful-man-you’ve-ever-met’ voice that he uses exclusively at work. Nie Mingjue laughs at that, his extremely rare belly-laugh, and this time Meng Yao does blush just a tiny bit on the back of his neck as he stands up to gather up the last few dishes – his water glass, Nie Mingjue’s empty whiskey glass, a random handful of unused cutlery – and take them over to the sink.

They’re halfway through washing the dishes side by side at the sink when Nie Huaisang swans past the doorway to the kitchen in a froth of lace and glitter and far more skin showing than anything that would be permitted in the office. Meng Yao smiles a little to himself as he hears Nie Mingjue sigh heavily, but he keeps whatever comment he likely has in mind behind his teeth.

“Don’t wait up for me, da-ge! We’re doing breakfast out tomorrow before training so I’ll just stay with Wei-xiong!” Nie Huaisang calls and he doesn’t wait for an answer before he’s sweeping out the door and pulling it firmly shut behind him, the electronic lock humming and clicking over a second later.

“Training?” Meng Yao asks, both out of genuine curiosity as well as in an attempt to keep their abrupt solitude from becoming awkward.

“Martial arts. He’s friends with some other business family kids in the area – well they’re not kids anymore, but you know – and they all go to the same gym in town to work out on Saturdays. I’ve been trying to get A-Sang to actually train while he’s there, but I haven’t had the time to go with him since our dad died, and no one else bothers to make him. He just goes to hang out, and then they all go out again together Saturday night.”

“Ah, I see,” Meng Yao hums and keeps the flood of further questions at bay. Nie Mingjue isn’t the most forthcoming man – not that Meng Yao has any room to talk, he knows – so the details of his personal life are more than a little lacking in Meng Yao’s mental files about him. This seems like a better chance than any he’s had so far to get Nie Mingjue to open up and satisfy some of his curiosity, but considering Meng Yao has…other possibilities in mind for the evening, it’s probably a better idea to appear as polite and unassuming as possible to avoid ruffling feathers.

They lapse into a comfortable, companionable silence as they work, Meng Yao washing and rinsing each dish before he hands them off to Nie Mingue to dry and put back where they belong. He navigates the kitchen with ease and confidence, which Meng Yao knows is only to be expected since it’s his kitchen, but it’s still unfairly attractive to see him not only in his element but also..comfortable. Casual. His sleeves are still rolled up from when he’d gotten them out of his way to start cooking, and Meng Yao finds the hand drawing wide, soapy circles around one of their plates slowing down as he gets a bit distracted thinking of how nice they look – and how much nicer they’d look on either side of his head while Nie Mingjue pins him down.

Without Nie Huaisang here for a buffer, Meng Yao finally has no choice but to confront his own motivations for accepting the invitation into Nie Mingjue’s home. It leaves him feeling strangely squirmy, the slick curl of anticipation escaping him a bit and slipping dangerously close to anxiety before he reins it back in.

They finish washing the rest of the dishes as Meng Yao makes his peace with his own selfishness and the ways it’ll probably come to bite him in the ass later, and when he looks up from drying his hands one final time it’s to find Nie Mingjue already watching him, a bit of tension in his shoulders and the hard line between his brows.

“A-Yao,” Nie Mingjue starts with an effort. “I know we didn’t really ah…talk about what happened before…you know, at the hotel when we-“ Nie Mingjue clears his throat and seems to be forcing himself when he meets Meng Yao’s gaze again- “but I mean..if you want-“

Fuck it, Meng Yao thinks somewhat savagely and throws caution to the wind.

“Mingjue if you don’t kiss me in the next ten seconds I’m actually going to castrate you,” he snaps to put them both out of their misery, and he’s pleased to startle a genuine laugh out of Nie Mingjue. He braces himself against the counter as Nie Mingjue crowds him against it, and then he’s being wrapped up tightly in stupid big, strong arms against Nie Mingjue’s chest, and he’s helpless to do anything but melt into the hungry press of Nie Mingjue’s mouth against his.

That first night, he’d thought it would no doubt be a one-time thing. It had been fun, the slow buildup over the afternoon, driving Nie Mingjue insane at dinner, waiting to hear if he would do anything about it once they were back in their room. It had been so freeing to let himself want, to be wanted right back. He hadn’t thought he’d get more than that – but then Nie Mingjue had asked for him again, and again, and so Meng Yao had happily fucked him every single night they’d spent at that damn conference. It’s the only thing that had made all the schmoozing and corporate chatter truly worth it, if he’s being honest. And when that had ended he’d thought for sure that would be the end of the line. He’s nothing if not realistic.

Except now, right there in Nie Mingjue’s own kitchen, the man slides a hand into the back pocket of his trousers to grope his ass while he tries to fuck Meng Yao’s throat with his tongue and Meng Yao is very abruptly a live wire from head to toe, without much room left in his brain to be very realistic about this at all. He releases his death grip on the edge of the counter pressing into the small of his back in favor of wrapping his arms tightly around Nie Mingjue’s broad shoulders and he digs in with his nails when it just makes the man hold him even tighter.

“Can’t believe I almost picked a finance spreadsheet over this,” he mumbles when Nie Mingjue lets him breathe, ducking down to nip at his neck a couple times in quick succession before he just stays there, face buried against his throat and breathing slightly ragged.

“What do you want, A-Yao?” he finally asks, his lips hot and wet against his skin in just the right way. “We can do anything you want, just tell me.”

Meng Yao tips his head back to thunk against the bottom couple inches of the cabinet behind him and forces down the first few thoughts that crowd into the front of his mind – things that he wants that no one has been willing to give him, things he doesn’t feel like he’s ready to ask for, things that would require more time than the few hours he has until the last train of the night runs, or more energy and stamina than either of them likely have at the moment.

But that still leaves – “I want you to fuck me.” He bites down the urge to ask for a back massage while they’re at it and just leaves it at that, but it’s more than enough.

Nie Mingjue shivers against him with a little hum in the back of his throat, teeth teasing and scraping at the side of Meng Yao’s neck just firmly enough to make him gasp but not enough to mark him. He suddenly, desperately wants to be marked, to be kissed so greedily it lingers for days, a delicious ache he can dig his fingers into to keep feeling it until it fades. But how is he meant to ask for that? How can he tell Nie Mingjue he wants to walk away from this with irrefutable evidence of what they’ve done when he already knows that no one else can ever be allowed to know about this?

“Right now,” he breathes instead. “I want you to fuck me right now. Mingjue-“

“Okay,” he agrees easily, like it isn’t one of the most selfish things Meng Yao has ever asked for. “Okay yeah, definitely, fuck.”

Meng Yao exhales sharply in the split second before Nie Mingjue kisses him again, all tongue and teeth in a way that satisfies at least a small part of him that wants this to hurt. He slings his legs around Nie Mingjue’s waist when the man lifts him up with broad hands under his thighs and refuses to stop kissing him long enough to take Meng Yao upstairs. It means Nie Mingjue getting worked up enough to slam him up against the closest wall a few separate times to grip his thighs tight enough to bruise (he desperately hopes it’ll bruise) as he rolls their hips together with a juddering, anxious rhythm – which means it’s perfect.

They make it there eventually, though, and Meng Yao forces himself not to cling to Nie Mingjue when the man leans down to set him carefully on the edge of his mattress. He feels like he’s being torn in half when Nie Mingjue steps back and leaves him cold and bereft there on his loosely-made king sized bed, and so he distracts himself with scooting backwards onto it properly and getting comfortable on the mountain of pillows while Nie Mingjue does something in what he assumes is the en-suite on the other side of the room.

“Lights on or off?” he asks when he emerges shirtless, foil condom packet, lube, and a washcloth in hand. When they’d fucked around in the hotel each time it had been in the dark, groping hands and fumbling kisses, exploring each other with trembling fingertips and the sweat-slick glide of skin on skin.

“On,” Meng Yao says, though he leans over to click on the bedside lamp so Nie Mingjue turns off the overheads again before he finally comes back to him. Meng Yao, despite how much he’s itching to yank Nie Mingjue down on top of him, takes a deep breath in to try to calm down as he admires the sight of Nie Mingjue lit rather dramatically from the side with a warm yellow glow as he slips out of his trousers to leave them in a puddle of fabric on the floor. He sets his spoils down on the nightstand and then, finally, the bed dips under his weight and Meng Yao is allowed a bit of relief from the desire to claw and cling to any good thing he can get his hands on.

Nie Mingjue sprawls out on top of him, pins him down to the mattress with his bulk without making him feel like he’s suffocating, and Meng Yao exhales slowly, eyes drifting shut as he relaxes utterly involuntarily. Nie Mingjue props his weight up on one elbow and curls his hand under Meng Yao’s shoulder to dig his fingertips into the tension at the top of it while he skims his free hand up and down his chest a few times, trading kisses back and forth as easily as breathing. Meng Yao settles further then when Nie Mingjue starts working deftly at his shirt buttons, popping each one free with quick twitches of his fingertips and slipping his hand under his fabric when he has enough room to just press his palm flat against his chest, thumb brushing back and forth over his sternum.

Meng Yao’s hands gradually still and loosen where they’ve been clutched around Nie Mingjue’s shoulder and the back of his neck, and only when he’s completely relaxed does Nie Mingjue continue, still kissing him like they have all the time in the world as he finishes getting his shirt open to push it away to either side.

The press of Nie Mingjue’s too-warm bare chest against his is like heaven, a relief and sweet torture all at once.

He’s fairly sure, because this is Nie Mingjue, that he’d taken the request to fuck him at face value. Nie Mingjue, Meng Yao has learned, is…uncomplicated. Straightforward, with his black and white views on just about everything and his habit of taking most things he hears fairly literally, without much deeper thought unless it’s openly encouraged. There’s little chance that he sees Meng Yao’s request as anything more complex than his own desires had been on that ridiculous work trip – an itch to scratch, a fun way to spend an evening (or a week of evenings).

As far as Meng Yao is concerned, that's absolutely fine, as the truth involves far more vulnerability than he’s willing to show.

Nie Mingjue, always a surprise, rattles him out of his anxious spiraling with nothing more than a slow, dragging caress up the outside of his thigh and Meng Yao shivers through it ever so slightly, lips parting to gasp around the heavy press of Nie Mingjue’s tongue against his. The sensation is muted a little by his trousers, which Nie Mingjue seems to realize at the same moment if the unhappy little noise in the back of his throat and his sudden pawing at Meng Yao’s belt are anything to go by. He hurries to help the other man strip him properly – and slips a finger under the waistband of Nie Mingjue’s underwear to tug at them until he gets the point and slides those down too – until there’s nothing but miles of warm skin and soft sheets and Meng Yao thinks he could die happy just like this.

Nie Mingjue runs a broad, warm hand down the side of his thigh again and this time he’s nearly hypersensitive to it, tracking every millimeter of dry, slightly calloused scratching against his bare skin. By the time Nie Mingjue curls his fingers under his knee and carefully guides it up and back a bit Meng Yao is more than happy to comply and he eases into the stretch with a little sigh, hands tangled in the long part of Nie Mingjue’s undercut and his mouth too easy, too soft, too pliant but he’s unwilling to force himself to stop being goaded into giving in. Nie Mingjue pushes his knee back a little further, and then a little further still – and then suddenly he’s pulling back enough to look down between them so Meng Yao blinks his eyes open, thoroughly confused as to why he’d stopped when they’d been doing so nicely a moment ago.

“Mingjue?”

Nie Mingjue responds by propping himself up further on his elbow and pushing Meng Yao’s knee even further back towards his chest, an unfairly adorable frown puckering between his brows — not unlike that first night in the hotel when he’d seemed completely unable to understand why Meng Yao had been startled to find multiple condom sizes in his bag, why Meng Yao might be surprised to learn that someone like Nie Mingjue not only isn’t aggressively a top himself, but also doesn’t just assume that anyone smaller than him is a bottom. (The bar is criminally low, Meng Yao knows.)

“How far back does your leg go?” Nie Mingjue suddenly asks with another bit of hesitant pressure against his knee, like he’s almost afraid of finding out.

“Oh, that,” Meng Yao dismisses the question breezily to hide the little surge of smug pride that flashes through him. He saves them both some time and curls a hand over his shin to apply enough pressure to bring his leg all the way back, further even than his chest until the top of his knee is pressed to the bed beside his arm, his thigh tilted just a bit to the side to accommodate the necessary angle. “Problem, Mingjue?”

Meng Yao stays still as Nie Mingjue runs his hand down from his knee to his ankle in a reverent sweep, and a smirk steals across his lips when Nie Mingjue curls a massive hand around the fine bones of his ankle to coax it up, up, until his leg is half extended and Nie Mingjue only has to turn his head to be able to press a flurry of kisses along his calf.

“How the fuck are you this flexible?”

“It’s a long and very boring story. Would you like to stop and listen to it, or would you like me to throw my leg over my head while you fuck me?”

“Are those my only choices?”

Against his will, Meng Yao snorts at that and can’t quite keep himself from smiling in amusement, despite the fact that he doesn’t laugh during sex. That’s not allowed, and so he schools his features as quickly as possible in the moment of distraction while he does just what he’d said and extends his leg fully until Nie Mingjue is pressing his ankle into the mattress above and behind his head.

“They aren’t the only options, no, but are you going to attempt to claim that you’re not interested in it when I can feel the evidence otherwise?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Nie Mingjue sounds properly chastened so Meng Yao just smirks and reaches up to coax his fingers away from where they’re clenched tightly around his leg to instead prop his ankle up on Nie Mingjue’s shoulder. He guides their linked fingers down the outside of his leg then, a slow, exploring drag from calf to knee to thigh and then down between their hips pressed so tightly together. He hitches his other knee up just enough to press against Nie Mingjue’s ribs, opening himself up fully and without any question at all as to his intentions, and thankfully that’s really all it takes to get Nie Mingjue firmly with the program again.

Nie Mingjue isn’t necessarily violent, that’s too strong of a word, but he’s definitely not tender either, which Meng Yao appreciates. He’s already on edge from daring to ask for something so selfish when he already knows firsthand how much Nie Mingjue likes to bottom for him, it wouldn’t do to push his luck any further by asking for tenderness as well (nor does he exactly feel prepared to offer it himself in return anyway). It doesn’t necessarily hurt when Nie Mingjue shoves a lube-slick finger inside him, far enough in one fell swoop that the rest of his knuckles grind too hard against the sensitive skin around his entrance, but it’s definitely not comfortable, and the groan that punches out of his chest is a mixture of pleasure and protest that he hopes will go unheeded. He can take it a little rough, likes it that way even, and it’s a relief that Nie Mingjue seems to like it as well without them having to actually talk about it.

Nie Mingjue is merciless. Meng Yao does his best to encourage more of it with anxious rolls of his hips and tight, grasping hands in Nie Mingjue’s hair that make the other man gasp in between heavy kisses, each following exhale shuddering on the way back out against the crook of Meng Yao’s neck damp with sweat already, and they’ve barely even gotten started.

A whine, utterly involuntary and humiliating, escapes his throat when Nie Mingjue not only withdraws his hand but also sits up and back, resting his weight on his calves to kneel between Meng Yao’s legs. Meng Yao shivers as he’s suddenly bereft, untouched save for where his ankle is still hooked over Nie Mingjue’s shoulder, and Nie Mingjue thankfully turns his head enough to smear a kiss to his calf in apology as he fumbles for the condom he’d brought from the bathroom.

“Sorry A-Yao,” he hums and his voice is wrecked already. “Just two seconds, I promise-”

Meng Yao tucks the wounded animal whining in his chest away to lie through his teeth and say, “It’s fine, Mingjue,” because the alternative is to beg for Nie Mingjue to come back, and that’s just…not even remotely an option.

Nie Mingjue keeps to his word, at least; Meng Yao is fairly sure he’s never seen someone roll a condom on as quickly as Nie Mingjue does with an impatient jerk of his fist down his shaft, and the desperation with which Nie Mingjue hurries to come back to him is both flattering and comforting. At least he isn’t alone in his wanting, though he’s not exactly comfortable enough to say that.

He relaxes again when Nie Mingjue lays out over him, when his heat and weight and the subtle, masculine scent of his cologne – deepened and muskier than usual after a day of work – become the only things worth paying attention to to Meng Yao’s sex-addled brain. He groans in relief when Nie Mingjue presses two fingers against him, pressing and testing for a long moment before he slides them inside in an almost perfunctory check to make sure he’s ready. He is, of course – Meng Yao typically prefers to top but there’s plenty of topping one can do while getting split in half, after all – but it’s sort of sweet that Nie Mingjue wants to double check, even if he does it roughly.

“Hips still feeling okay?” Nie Mingjue asks as he withdraws his fingers again and audibly begins slicking himself up, rhythmic and wet down between them.

“Mhm. Don’t worry, I’m more than bendy enough to keep this up at least until you come.”

“Well don’t make it sound like it’s only going to take me 30 seconds,” Nie Mingjue huffs, playfully irritated. Meng Yao smirks and turns his head enough to catch Nie Mingjue’s eye at the same moment he gives his hair a little yank and rolls his hips up to press his leaking cock to the back of the other man’s hand still wrapped around his own erection.

“I don’t think it’s that inaccurate of an estimate.”

Nie Mingjue’s breathless laugh and subsequent, “Go fuck yourself,” are both so fondly amused that Meng Yao doesn’t worry at all that he really means it.

His extra polite work voice is back when he replies, “Apologies, I was under the impression you were going to handle that for me.”

Meng Yao startles just a little when Nie Mingjue swats him on the outside of his thigh for that (lightly) but he doesn’t have much of an opportunity to attempt to categorize how getting hit in bed, even playfully, makes him feel before he’s suddenly extremely distracted by the feeling of Nie Mingjue pressing into him, just too hard and too fast enough for the stretch of it to burn just right.

Nie Mingjue swallows down the gasp that Meng Yao is absolutely helpless to stop, but the whimper that follows goes humiliatingly unmuffled. Meng Yao shivers with embarrassment but thankfully Nie Mingjue either didn’t notice or didn’t care as he just keeps pressing in, in, in, leaving Meng Yao to scrabble at his back and tug at his hair as he attempts to find some way to deal with suddenly finding himself so full.

“Relax,” Nie Mingjue rumbles against his jaw when he’s finally bottomed out, though he doesn’t stop hitching his hips forward just a little every few seconds as if testing to see if he’s actually as far in as he can get. “Breathe, A-Yao, you’re going to make me come if you don’t loosen up.”

“And you were so confident it would take longer than 30 seconds,” Meng Yao teases in a rush, his head falling back down onto the bed as he trembles and tries his best to listen to Nie Mingjue’s objectively good advice. “It’s not my fault you’re such a light touch-”

“It is absolutely your fault. I’ve been thinking about you for weeks, I’ve been half-hard for you all goddamn day, why wouldn’t I be easy for you now?”

Well that’s just. That’s. Something.

Anyway…Moving on.

“Fuck me then, you don’t have to wait,” Meng Yao grumbles to hide how that Does Things – unacceptably mushy things – to his heart that apparently doesn’t remember all the men who have hurt him in the past when he’s pinned under the one man who hasn’t yet. “I want to…” Meng Yao trails off, takes a deep, shuddering breath in, and admits in an embarrassed rush, “I want to feel it tomorrow, and Sunday too if at all possible.”

Nie Mingjue grunts something that vaguely resembles a heartfelt, “Fuck,” and jerks his hips back only to snap them forward again after just a couple inches. It’s a potent mix of friction and keeping him feeling full and Meng Yao can’t stop the whimper that manages to escape his iron control. Thankfully (unexpectedly), this newest whimper seems to do the trick because Nie Mingjue starts fucking into him like he’s trying to make sure they’ll never be able to separate again.

That marks the end of them attempting to talk to each other, which Meng Yao finds he can only be grateful for. The more he’s reminded that this is Nie Mingjue he’s fucking — his boss who’s rigid but fair and ultimately a good man if a little rough around the edges — and the more the man makes him laugh, puts him at ease, the harder he knows it’ll be to remember that this doesn’t mean anything, that he’s little more than a convenient fuck. Much better, then, to have nothing to listen to but the sound of skin on skin and groans through ragged breathing in between the slick-soft release of their mouths each time they break apart.

Meng Yao actually isn’t sure how long they’ve been going at it like that by the time he’s abruptly and painfully empty, and Nie Mingjue pulls away from his mouth just in time for Meng Yao to be unable to stop the whimpering, “No,” that tumbles from his half-numb lips, hands already grasping to try to drag Nie Mingjue back in, just for a little longer.

As he’d done before, Nie Mingjue smears his lips and tongue against the part of Meng Yao’s leg nearest his face in apology, a clumsy approximation of a kiss. But since that isn’t even close to everything Meng Yao wants he still forces himself to open his eyes long enough to glare up at the other man.

“Shh sorry, come here,” Nie Mingjue mumbles, hazy and nonsensical. He carefully nudges Meng Yao’s leg down off his shoulder and Meng Yao begins to panic that they’re done, that Nie Mingjue had come somehow without him realizing it and is on the verge of telling him to get dressed, grab his things, and go. The panic is enough to shock him out of the sort-of-hazy place he’d been happily floating through and he feels it the instant he tightens up again, eyes sharp as he braces himself to be hurt, and not in the way he wants to be.

Nie Mingjue’s hands on his hips are strong and inescapable as the man helps guide him into flipping over onto his stomach, and then he’s lifting his hips up for him enough to slide a firm pillow beneath them and the snarling thing chewing on his diaphragm pauses in its anxious gnawing. Nie Mingjue wastes no time pressing inside of him again the moment the angle is right and Meng Yao is forced to muffle his groan of pure relief in the mattress beneath him, arms up and curled backward over the top his head so he can grab his own hair for an anchor.

Not getting kicked out, then. Just a change in position. Meng Yao breathes through the fading spark of adrenaline making room again for pleasure, and when Nie Mingjue leans down to wrap an arm tightly around his chest and surround him with warmth and his comforting bulky weight Meng Yao is glad he can hide his face to let a couple of overwhelmed tears slip free to immediately soak into the sheets. He releases one hand from clutching at his own hair to reach further back and clutch at Nie Mingjue’s hair again instead, sinking his fingers deep into the long part of his undercut without bothering to care that he’s tugging a braid or two loose with his grasping fingers. For his part, Nie Mingjue just hitches him a little closer and buries a few scratchy kisses into his neck and hair as he resumes fucking into him, so Meng Yao just holds on tighter and sinks away again properly into pleasure.

It takes some long, hazy minutes of just-shy-of-too-hard fucking before the little noises escaping unbidden from somewhere deep in Meng Yao’s chest manage to condense enough to turn into broken calls of Nie Mingjue’s name, soft whimpers that tumble clumsily from his lips to be smushed into the mattress, his arms. They escalate quickly from whimpers to moans, though, as Nie Mingjue starts fucking him somehow even harder, panting harshly against his shoulder and slamming into him hard enough to ache even after he pulls back, to smack their hips together noisily, and when Nie Mingjue slides his hand down his chest, his stomach, to manage to wrap it around his cock for a few rough tugs Meng Yao is powerless to stop the sensation from tipping him over the edge.

He muffles himself at the last moment in the crook of his own elbow as his entire body strains, pleasured and aching and tired but not wanting the ecstasy of his orgasm to fade. Nie Mingjue fucks him through it, slower now but still not gentle, still not tender, still rough enough for Meng Yao to feel like he can sink his teeth into whatever they have, whatever they’re doing, and keep it.

“Fuck, A-Yao,” Nie Mingjue finally grunts against his neck and Meng Yao finds enough muscle coordination to pull Nie Mingjue’s hair and tighten up around him as Nie Mingjue comes, hips hitching in desperate little shoves forward like before as his nails bite into Meng Yao’s hip (Meng Yao has enough pleasure-soaked brain cells left to be glad Nie Mingjue had let go of his softening cock before being overcome by his own orgasm).

When it’s over, Meng Yao settles happily enough with a little hum to let Nie Mingjue know he’s perfectly happy with the way the other man has collapsed on top of him, solid and heavy and real. It’s grounding, centering, and Meng Yao doesn’t even care that he can only breathe shallowly or that he’s way too hot despite the way their sweat is trapped clammy and slick between his back and Nie Mingjue’s chest. There’s the faint scratch of sparse chest hair against his shoulder blades and Nie Mingjue’s thundering heart drumming against his skin and his cock going soft buried deep in his ass and their legs tangled together in a messy heap and Nie Mingjue’s cheek resting against the side of his head and —

“Already back to thinking too much, hm? I can fuckin’ hear it,” Nie Mingjue mutters in his ear, punctuates it with a sloppy kiss just below it that makes him shiver.

“Always,” Meng Yao mumbles, cheek still smushed against the bed beneath him.

“Should I be offended that wasn’t enough to tire you out so much you stop thinking for five minutes?”

Meng Yao smiles a little, sleepy and sated and therefore thoroughly willing to delude himself into thinking he’s allowed to have post-coital teasing.

“Maybe you’ll just have to try harder next time.” The sleepy warmth suffusing him abruptly disappears at his own words – his presumption that he’ll get to sleep with Nie Mingjue again, and that if they do that Nie Mingjue will want to top for him again. He braces himself for the let-down, for Nie Mingjue to tell him this was a one-time deal in that blunt way that he approaches everything. It’s so refreshing in every aspect of the non-sexual sides of their relationship to never have to doubt what Nie Mingjue’s thinking or feeling, but right now he thinks that if Nie Mingjue were to reject him before they’ve even stopped basking in the afterglow it would absolutely crush him.

“Deal,” Nie Mingjue agrees easily with a noisy kiss to the back of his shoulder. “Only fair after you fucked me so well last week, ah?”

Meng Yao blinks a little at the easy acceptance of it – maybe one day he won’t be startled by how easily Nie Mingjue accepts his space in his life in such a casual way, but it’s doubtful. But if Nie Mingjue wants to see this as a trade – a tit for tat – then Meng Yao isn’t above taking advantage of a more..transactional approach than anything approaching actual vulnerability. Actually that sounds like a nice bonus.

“Only fair,” he agrees and starts a little when Nie Mingjue suddenly ducks down closer to kiss the corner of his mouth clumsily as if to seal the deal. Meng Yao turns his head enough to get a proper kiss and then they settle down again into comfortable silence for a few minutes as heartbeats slow and sweat (and the mess under Meng Yao’s hips) becomes too cold and unpleasant for hanging out together like this to be feasible anymore.

“Okay, gross. Off,” Meng Yao mutters with a hand thrown out blindly behind himself to smack weakly at Nie Mingjue’s thigh and the man groans a little as he sits up enough to hold onto the base of the condom and pull out, Meng Yao shivering hard as he’s left empty and cold. He hides his face fully in his arms for a long moment of necessary privacy to get himself back under control, tucking away the biting loneliness with the ease of many years of practice while Nie Mingjue rolls to his feet and starts cleaning up.

“Do you want to take a shower or anything?” Nie Mingjue offers as he chucks the used condom in the trash and steps back into the bathroom to run the tap for a moment. Meng Yao chances a glance up at him out of the corner of his eye when he returns and it’s to find he’s wet the washcloth he grabbed earlier and is returning to bed with it. In the interest of maintaining some shred of his dignity, Meng Yao forces himself to sit up and take it from Nie Mingjue’s outstretched hand to take care of a perfunctory clean up on his own.

“No, I’d better head home, I’ll just take one there,” he forces his slightly numb, kiss-bruised mouth to say.

“Suit yourself. Want a ride?”

Meng Yao would fucking love a ride instead of having to sit on the train with a (pleasantly) sore ass and probably very clearly having just gotten fucked within an inch of his life, but with the post-orgasm glow officially gone reality is creeping in cold and harsh from the sidelines. He doesn’t get rides home from hookups, just like he doesn’t use their showers or let them hold him for longer than it takes the buzz to fade. It’s too much – too much to ask for, too much to reveal of himself, too intimate for people who are just going to hurt him sooner or later.

“I’m alright,” he says with a smile to temper the second rejection. “I’m not far, don’t trouble yourself. Just relax.”

Nie Mingjue looks at him in silence for a long moment before he shrugs and offers an easy, “Suit yourself.” Meng Yao lets out a silent sigh of relief once Nie Mingjue’s back is turned so he can tug on a pair of sweatpants out of his dresser. And nothing else. God Meng Yao needs to go home or he’s going to do something stupid like ask to stay the night so he can get fucked again as soon as physically possible. There should be a law somewhere that anyone with a dick as nice as Nie Mingjue’s isn’t allowed to wear gray hip-hugging sweatpants, especially while going fucking commando.

Instead of begging to stay, he stands and gets dressed, though he doesn’t bother buttoning his shirt all the way up or combing his fingers through his hair to make sure it’s laying flat – none of it will help him look less sex-drunk so what’s the point?

When they’re both relatively presentable, Nie Mingjue walks him downstairs and leans against the wall of the front hallway with his arms crossed over his bare chest, expression inscrutable as he watches Meng Yao bend over to tie his shoes.

“D’you want to come over again next week?” he asks abruptly, like he’d been meaning to keep it back but gave up. “A-Sang and I have dinner together every Friday night but he always goes out after we’re done, so it’s just me hanging around here by myself.”

Meng Yao takes a deep breath in and straightens, messenger bag on his shoulder (the strap digs into a bruise Nie Mingjue had left at some point on his collarbone and his breath hitches traitorously in his chest with a little zing of pleasure. He hadn’t even had to ask for it after all).

“You don’t think Huaisang would mind me intruding again?”

Nie Mingjue shrugs and Meng Yao very pointedly does not watch all those stupid big fucking muscles of his shift under tanned skin. “I already told you earlier it’s not an intrusion, but even if it were I wouldn’t really care if he minds. He barely stays long enough to eat before he’s running out to go clubbing anyway, if it bothers him he can just eat out with his friends instead.”

As wildly uncomfortable as Meng Yao is with the idea of forcing Nie Huaisang away from the routine dinners he has with his brother in their own home, the prospect of turning this into something regular – at least until Nie Mingjue has paid him back for the week of evenings he’d spent fucking him – is too much of a siren call to ignore.

“Then yes, I’d like that.”

Nie Mingjue shoots him a crooked smile, one that makes a dimple pop in his cheek, and Meng Yao very quickly worries for the integrity of all the rules he sets for himself around hookups. He’s so busy shoring up his defenses again, in fact, that he completely misses that Nie Mingjue is leaning in until he feels soft, warm lips and the scratch of his mustache pressed firmly against his cheek.

“I’ll see you Monday morning, then?” he asks quietly, still far too close for anything remotely resembling ‘professional work relationship’.

“Mhm!” It’s not a squeak but by god is it close.

“Good. If you can’t still feel this by Sunday feel free let me know then and I’ll spend the whole week thinking up how I can do better next weekend.”

Meng Yao does not blush, he does not blush.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“Good. See you Monday, then. Get some sleep.”

“Mm.” Meng Yao hesitates for one long moment before he goes up on his toes to kiss Nie Mingjue’s cheek quickly, chastely, and then he’s out the door without a second glance to see how that was received, he doesn’t want to know. He heads down the street at his usual fast clip and lets thoughts of planning his route home using various public transportation networks distract him from how his cheeks are burning as he leaves the Nie house behind.

For now.

[miekasa]

M-mie could we get some athlete boyfriend eren hcs too if you don’t mind, please and thank you😩

He is: my boyfriend, and I love him dearly. Perfect amount of himbo and athlete without being a jock, everybody give it up for Eren for being my dream boy <3

Eren plays sports year round, with the exception of maybe one or two winter seasons, just because his school/work/home life was too busy for athletics at those times. Otherwise, he’s always go something to practice for: soccer in the fall, hockey in the winter, and his choice of baseball or basketball in the spring.

He’s not a varsity athlete; that is, he’s not “committed” to any one team, so he’s not tied to playing one sport every year, nor are his academics linked to his athletics, or vice versa. He’s just a pretty athletic guy, and he’s got a lot of energy, and he enjoys sports, so naturally he plays whenever he can.

As it turns out, it does help him with his academics. Knowing he’s got practice the majority of the week forces Eren into building a schedule that prioritizes both schoolwork and sports so he can enjoy them equally. It teaches him to be independent in a way that he wasn’t expecting, but he’s come to really love.

And because he loves it, he doesn’t mind working hard for it. Liking the way he’s set it up for himself encourages him to do his best in both areas. It’s really just good for him all around: a good outlet fo his energy, a good way to spend his time, a good way to keep his grades in check, and a good way to keep himself comfortably happy and busy.

His appetite is insatiable, so it’s only dramatized when playing sports. He takes the all you can eat in all you can eat sushi a little too seriously.

The thing is… he’s a shit cook, too, so it’s not like he’s meal prepping to make sure he’s satisfying his appetite. He just buys a shit ton of food whenever he’s hungry. He’s always asking you if you wanna grab food, and part of it is to ensure that you’re eating—not as much as him, but eating nonetheless—but part of it is that he just likes sharing meals with someone.

He also doesn’t like to eat alone, so even if you only have your ten California rolls to his forty six spicy tuna rolls, that’s fine; he just wants the company.

That’s also why even if you say you’re not hungry, he’ll drag you out to eat with him anyway. And you’ll probably get fed some of his food even if you don’t order anything and insist that you’re not hungry because, “It’s really good, baby, just try it—just one bite, it’s okay I’ve got plenty left!”

He usually keeps a few granola bars and chips and other snacks of his liking on him. But because of Eren’s nature, he keeps them on you, too: in your car, in your backpack, in your apartment/dorm. You’ll meet him after class and he’ll kinda just start walking behind you, and you realize he’s opening your backpack, and you don’t even have time to question him before he’s pulling a bar out of the smallest pocket with a smile and munching on it.

Sometimes you come home and see his little protein shakes in your fridge. You definitely didn’t put them there, but you don’t move them, either. When you stock up on more when they’re running low, Eren contemplates marrying you.

If it’s been a hard week of practice or school, he tends to get sleepy when studying (usually when studying for his least favorite class, no coincidence there). He’ll close his laptop, put his hood up, and scooch his chair closer to yours before leaning his head on your shoulder.

He gets increasingly clingier the longer he naps; hand wrapping around your waist, nose poking at your neck. He’s not so subtly trying to hint that he wants you to quit studying and take him home to cuddle instead. If you don’t get the message, expect him to shut your laptop for you.

When you protest, Eren just looks at you with pouty lips and tired eyes, “Chemistry sucks anyway. Wanna nap, and also wanted you to do that thing with your hands when you massage my back for me.” (He then promptly falls asleep mid-massage on your bed).

He’s actually got a waiver to see a physical massage therapist because of how frequently he’s exercising. On occasion, he goes, but he claims he likes your massages much better. Also because he’s hesitant about a stranger touching him and once he moaned when the guy was working on his back and Eren swears it was one of the most embarrassing moments of his life.

He doesn’t get upset if you can’t make it to every game, but he does like it when you show up. Gets all cheesy and cocky with his arm around your shoulder, going on about how, “You’re my good luck charm, baby. I play better when you’re watching, you know?”

He has so much team clothing, from sweats to hoodies to t-shirts to socks. All he asks is that you wear something on game days, even if you can’t be there to support him while he’s playing. And that you keep one or two things for yourself anyway. He’ll put them in your closet for your if you don’t take them yourself <2

Because seeing you in his hoodie is always great, but his team hoodies are extra special, because they’ve got his name and his number on them. Whenever you’re wearing one, he trails just a half step behind you so he can see JAEGER printed on your back while you walk. Something about you wearing his last name around is… enticing, to say the least.

Even if it’s not the clothes branded with his name, Eren’s got a thing for you in sweats and/or workout clothes, so he’ll toss them at you whenever you sleep over. He’s always handsy, even if you’re just wearing an Under Armour shirt with the school’s logo on it; the material of it, and knowing that it’s his just makes him want to keep his hands on you.

Truthfully, he doesn’t workout all that much outside of practice. Occasionally, he’ll go to the gym with some of his teammates if they need a buddy, or go himself to stretch or take one of the free classes, but he doesn’t have a strict schedule for it. If you go to the gym, he’ll follow you if you ask, tho.

Turns out something that he does like is yoga. He’s not particularly flexible lmfao, but the stretching helps with muscle pain and tension, and he kinda finds the whole atmosphere of it relaxing. He’s still not so great at the meditation part of it, but he’s getting there.

(Actually, it’s pretty cute because on Tuesday and Thursdays, the yoga classes at the gym on campus are open-level and beginner friendly. That’s when the majority of the athletes show up, and you see people like Eren, Jean and Connie holding tree pose in the back room).

This, of course, makes him think that couples yoga is a great idea. Let’s just say, you’re lucky that Eren is strong enough to catch you and has sharp reflexes, because he’s certainly not the most balanced partner for this activity.

Game days are fun for him, and usually even if his team loses, he’s still so pumped up on adrenaline that he’s pretty happy. He only gets moody if he thinks the other team is playing dirty, or the refs are unfair, or he’s just been in a bad mood because of something that happened in his personal life; sports are an outlet for him, not his drive in life, so losing a game doesn’t take a huge toll on him.

Usually, even if he is upset about something personal, he’s able to funnel it into his game play. Small things used to make his whole sportsmanship sour, but overtime, he’s really gotten better at using his energy to fuel the right things. However, one thing that makes him foul (emotionally and literally; as in he might foul out of a game), is if he’s been fighting with you.

Sometimes it works in his favor—using the game as outlet, like usual—but it goes south pretty quickly. Because instead of using his aggression in a productive way, he gets distracted and easily pissed off, and it’s no good for anybody, especially himself. Because if he fouls out, or the coach takes him out for doing too much, then he can’t play; and if he can’t play then all that pent up frustration has no where to go; and then he’s forced to just sit with himself and his thoughts, but usually he starts deflecting and telling everyone else to piss off. Truly a no good, very bad box he’s put himself in.

You guys don’t fight that often, and it’s rare that it drags out for an extended amount of time when you do; but as with any relationship, it can happen. And when it does happen, if Armin doesn’t get to you first, expect one of Eren’s teammates to come groveling at your feet.

Or, rather, two. Because when you and Eren were fighting for over two weeks about god knows what at this point, it was Connie and Jean who ambushed you in the library. Jean had some pride to keep, but Connie was practically begging you to make up with Eren: “Look, I know he’s probably the one who said or did something to piss you off, and I’m not saying you gotta forgive him, but please just talk to him. I can’t run anymore extra laps because of him, and it’s gonna be so embarrassing if we lose to a C-list team on Friday because Eren’s funking up everyone’s attitude. PLEASE!”

Jean is more interested in the tea between you guys, but he also wants Eren to go back to being his normal hotheaded self, and not his current moody self. “He’s been playing like a bitch baby all week, and I’m gonna knock his skull in if he doesn’t fucking get his act together,” Jean rolls his eyes, “So just show up on Friday, alright? Do it for me and Connie, at least.”

When Eren does see you in the crowd at the game, it’s not a Troy and Gabriella moment, but when he sees you he feels so much relief that he’s physically calmer and way more mentally relaxed—because at this point Eren wasn’t even mad, he was just scared you might break up with him, and that fear brought out the worst in him. Seeing you in the stands, even if you didn’t wanna speak to him, was reassurance that you still gave a damn about him, and that was motivation enough.

He rushes to you after the game, wanting to make sure you don’t get swept away or leave with your friends. He’s smiling and so happy to finally see you that he almost forgets that you’re mad with him; hugging you and grinning ear to ear. When the reality kicks in, he kinda steps back at bit and rubs at his neck, embarrassed, but at least he knows he still has a chance to make things right with you.

(When you do make up, you’re surprised to find flowers and $10 coupon for your favorite pizza place in your mailbox a few days later. They’re from Connie, and his poorly handwritten note thanks you for “saving the team” and “curbing Eren’s temper).

[finelinevogue]

could you do some angsty smut please??

oh hell yeah we can. this is going to be 70srockstar!harry with roadie!y/n eekkkk! okay have fun;

Being the girlfriend of the most famous, golden boy rockstar was the craziest rollercoaster you’d ever ride.

For the past 6 months you’ve been touring with the one and only Harry Styles, living your life between helping on tour, drinking endless amounts of wine and smoking a hell of a lot of weed. The job had come past you at the perfect moment. Your dad happened to be best friends with the tour manager, Jeff Azoff, who’d spoken of their being a job opening for a roadie. You were employed to help set up the musical equipment and test out the instruments before the act went on at night, falling in love for the man you roadied for was just an add on. A beautiful bonus.

It was a lot more pressure being Harry’s girlfriend than people thought though. There was so much pressure to act a certain way and present yourself another way. Harry was so idolised and craved by millions and it put pressure on you to be a certain person for him. You loved him so much and you were so scared that he might one day realise that there was so much better than you - at least in your eyes. Someone extroverted. Someone musically talented. Someone who wasn’t a virgin.

Harry had never pressured you into anything sexual unless you were ready. Of course he was notorious for being an above star rating, when it came fo sex - thanks to all the articles published by the many men and women, sometimes both together, he had slept with. The sex reputation went hand-in-hand with his rock-n-roll aesthetic, so that part of him would never change. You’d only been with Harry for 4 of those 6 months, managing to fall for him very quickly, so you wondered just how he was coping without having had sex for that long. He usually had a different person each night to take backstage after his concert to play with how he wanted, hence how he built his reputation, but since you there had been no one.

Sex was such a big thing for Harry though, so you couldn’t help but feel like you were letting him down.

Currently, you were sat on his bed on the tour bus reading an article that had been published about your boyfriend last week. Your heart strings tugged as you read one section of the interview.

Interviewer: The new album, tell me about it.

Harry: It’s coming on slowly yeah. Just want this one to be perfect so, taking my time.

Interviewer: What would you say your biggest inspiration is for writing?

Harry: Changed on every project, to be honest man. Sometimes it’s about past relationships. Sometimes it’s about issues i’m going through. A lot of the time it’s about sex!

Interviewer: Yeah, dude, I have noticed that like every other song is about sex. Is that something you’re quite open about?

Harry: I think sex can be either something so beautiful or so passionate. Don’t believe in sad sex! But, um, yeah i’m always really honest lyrically when it comes to the songs about sex and I hope others see it as that too.

Interviewer: No it definitely does! Thanks Harry for your time and, um, keep on having sex so that third album breaks even more records!

Harry: Will do man!

It was easy to understand why you were upset. Harry’s biggest inspiration wasn’t possible for this album, because you were too nervous to let him have you. All of you. You felt a burden, as if you were holding him back from living his life and creating something so amazing. His past two albums had been such hits for songs such as ‘She’ and ‘Only Angel’, which were inspired by the intimate times with past lovers. There would only be sad songs if he wrote an album without any spice.

That’s why as soon as Harry came back on the bus, dressed in shorts and a shirt that was unbuttoned to see his toned chest, you jumped him and kissed him like your life depended on him. He was taken back by surprise, but welcomed your lips nevertheless.

Pulling back he mumbled some words against your lips, “Well this is a nice welcome back gift.” He chuckled at the eagerness of your lips and let his hands roam over your body - from your neck to your waist and over your ass. This man knew what he was doing.

“Harry?” You whispered, stopping your kiss and looking at his beautiful swollen red lips. He was a sight for sore eyes.

“Yeah baby?” He kept himself close to you and you could feel the stiffie that he’d developed pressing against your front.

“Can we… I’m.. If you…”

“What baby? Can tell me anything, y’know that.”

“Wanna have sex with you.” You told him the most simple virgin way ever, your face heating up when you saw him smirking down at you. You’d screwed yourself over here and were getting all shy and embarrassed about it.

“Hey, no. Don’t hide from me,” He drew your face back to his and kept his eyes on yours to provide you some familiar comfort, “you sure?”

“Mhm, yes.” You nodded affirmatively.

“It might hurt a little, okay? First time means that your cute little pussy is going to be really tight. Don’t even know whether you’ll be able to take me.” He taunted you, cupping his hands to your cheeks and brushing his thumbs carefully over your skin to ease your tension.

“I w-will.” You moused out, wanting to be this person for him.

“‘Course you can. You’re my best girl and I know you’ll fit perfectly for me, yeah?” He rhetorically asked pushing you back to the bed and letting you flop there. You watched him as he discarded his clothes, following his lead, until you were both naked in front of each other. You’d been this far before, but this time it felt different. It felt more lustful and exposed and nerve-wracking.

Harry bent down and started to kiss you from your belly upwards, leaving kisses everywhere until he reached your jaw where he bit more than he kisses. He loved seeing his marks being left behind on your skin, proving to everyone that you were his and his alone. His hands found comfort ins kneading and squeezing your breasts like dough, loving the way they were so soft and yet so hard beneath his warm hands. As he found your lips and divulged in your sweet tastes, you slunk your hand down and grabbed ahold of his cock, pumping him a few times to get him primed. You felt the trickles of pre-cum drip from his tip and it only excited you even more.

Taking your lead, Harry pushed one of his hands in between your bodies and started playing with your wet cunt, paying extra attention to your needy clit. He knew you loved it when his fingers got rough, so that’s exactly how he played. His tongue was battling against yours, whilst you both stimulated pleasure to one another. The wet and beautiful sounds filled the room, heightening your arousal - Harry could feel it too, his fingers becoming wetter with every circle and pump of his fingers.

“You ready, baby?” He asked carefully, plucking his lips away from yours with a wet sounding smack. You already looked fucked out and he had barely done anything to you yet.

“Y-yes.” You stumbled, so excited yet so nervous. You were finally going to give Harry what he had been missing for so long and you were also going to let yourself go, and divulge in something new and potentially life-changing.

He leant back and rubbed his own cock for a few strokes, before lining the tip of it with your opening. He teased your entrance, making you bite your lip in anticipation. He smiled down at you and mouthed the words ‘I love you’ without any sounds leaving his lips, before you did the same. The head of his cock started to push in, but you didn’t expect it to hurt as much as it did.

“Shit fuck, y’so tight baby. Need you to relax for me, okay?” He asked, pulling away so he could watch your body relax. You closed your eyes and took a deep breathe, reminding yourself that the best way to relax is not to think about the problem itself but oh how you’d feel when the problem’s fixed. You smiled and once Harry could see your shoulders un-tense, he, once again, pushed his cock into your opening. He hissed at the contact, obviously finding it so pleasurable even if it was only minimal contact, but you, you felt so much pain and soreness from absolutely nothing.

You couldn’t do this.

“It should just…” Harry tried a different angle, but your smile had disappeared and your whole range of emotions had resumed to flat and disappointed in yourself. “Maybe if I just..” Harry tried to hold your legs a little wider and guide his cock more firmly into your opening, but each time he couldn’t push past a certain point without your body rejecting him or your facial expressions telling him he should stop.

“St-stop Harry please.” You cried, bringing your hands up to cover your face as you let the tears flow freely. “Please stop.”

“O-okay. Just gonna…” And he slid out as much as he’d managed to get in, which was probably less than an inch. It hurt when he pulled away and your cunt felt like it was on fire. It stung and it didn’t feel right. You felt like a failure and an embarrassment.

You cried into your arms, letting harsh sobs take over your body. You chest felt tight and your eyes stung worse than your cunt did. God, you couldn’t even do one thing for him. You were the reason why he was having a hard time writing at the moment. You were the reason people would be disappointed to hear no sex inspired songs on the album. He might even have to use past experiences as inspiration, which made your heart curl with jealousy. You didn’t feel like you were enough for him, like you would ever be enough for him.

“I’m so sorry Harry,” You sat up from the bed, not wanting to look at him and his disappointed expression as he stay knelt on the bed - cock looking painfully hard still. You scrambled for your t-shirt and your joggers and then walked out of the room, across the bus’ narrow corridor, and into the bathroom.

You looked at yourself in then mirror and were disappointed at what, or who, you saw. Looking back at you was the person who couldn’t even have sex. You couldn’t give Harry what he deserved. You were a failure and it was stamped all over your body. You cried as you looked at yourself, until you couldn’t and you just slid down the wall and onto the floor. You wished for the Earth to just swallow you whole. You couldn’t stand being here when you were clearly broken and useless.

Harry would surely leave you for this. Why would he want to stay with someone who couldn’t even get their boyfriends dick in their pussy? Couldn’t give each other that pleasure? Harry had so many people in the past and surely with you gone he’d have so many people in the future. It would be selfish of you to stay. Harry had needs you completely appreciated that, but it would be just so difficult to let him go when he means so much to you.

There was a quiet knock at the door, which broke you from your cries and self-deprecating. “Y/N? Baby honey? Can I come in, please?”

“S-sorry. Yes of c-course.” You stood up quickly, thinking that he was wanting to be let in to go to the toilet or to have a cold shower go get rid of the hard-on that you’d put there. Too bad you couldn’t have taken it away.

You unlocked the door and shuffled past him, only for him to stop you. He shut the bathroom door behind him, leaving you both infinitely pressed together in the pathway on the bus. He had you pressed you up against the side of the wall and kept his arms at either side of you.

“Sweets—”

“Harry, please don’t say anything. I-I know what you’re thinking and—”

“Yeah? And what am I thinking?” He asked, not moving away from you. You held your cries the best you could and took a deep breathe to continue.

“I’m a disappointment. I-I i’m not good enough. I’m broken.” You choked out, knocking your head back against the wall from frustration.

“Stop it.” Harry ordered firmly, gripping your cheeks in his hands and forcing you to look at him. The look in his eyes was so hard to read, but he looked desperate and worried and hurt. You hated to think that you were the cause of any of those emotions. “Just stop.” Harry’s own eyes were starting to fill with tears too and you brought your own hand up to catch a few of them before they could fall.

“Don’t cry, please.” You begged, keeping your hand pressed to his cheek which he absolutely adored. He loved the feeling of your skin against his. He never wanted to not have it.

“Then don’t say things that hurt me, okay? Hearing you say those things about yourself absolutely breaks m’heart flower. Just because you were a bit too tight to take me today does not mean that you’re a disappointment or you’re a failure or that you’re not good enough. It hurts to think that you’d ever think I would think that, because - fuck -,” Harry pressed his forehead tight against yours and fanned his lips lips over yours. His closeness was everything. “I love you so much it scares me. My feelings for you are so strong and so real. I want your forever and something as trivial as sex is never going to make me want otherwise. Do you get that?”

“B-but the album?” You asked.

“What about the album?”

“I-in the recent magazine interview you said that sex is your biggest i-inspiration. I can’t be that for you.”

“Is that what this is all about? Because you think that my album isn’t coming together because i’m not having sex? Did you miss the part where I said I wanted this one to be perfect and I was taking m’time with it?”

“No.”

“Well I did say that, because it’s for you baby. The whole thing is going to be for you. Every melody. Every lyric. Every song. Just and all for you.” Both of you were silently crying now, absorbed in each others love and adoration for one another.

“I-I didn’t know.”

“Now you do. This album isn’t really for the charts or the awards. It’s for you, m’heart. I love you for a lot more than your body and its’ pleasures.”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, taking all his words in and realising how irrationally you’d acted out afterwards.

“For what, sweetheart?”

“For even thinking that you’d be so shallow and cold-hearted.”

“You didn’t think that though, baby. I know you and so I know you didn’t. Your thoughts were based around your own insecurities, not to do with your small-thinking over me.” He explained to you, making you nod and kick your lips.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Well then we don’t deserve each other.”

“But i’ll keep you forever if you’d let me.”

“Looks like we’re together forever then, baby honey.”

[just-a-little-cellist]

Hey, I just read your Levi alphabet headcanons and they were so good!! So in relationship to that I was wondering if you could write a sub! Levi fic with a humiliation kink. No pressure, and I love your writing :)

A/N: ah thank you so much! I'm really happy that you like my stuff!! ok sorry this has taken a while but I didn't want to mess this up, I've had so much fun writing this one and it turned out way longer than I expected :) hope you enjoy it!! sub levi is my fav so :P

warnings: nsfw content, d/s dynamic, dom reader, use of 'mistress' but aside from that reader's gender isn't specified, light bondage, crying, humiliation kink :)

You always seemed to know.

You could read him like an open book, and it surprised him every single time. You knew him better than anyone, sometimes better than himself. You could see straight through him, and there was no hiding from that.

Today was no different. It was written in his stiff demeanor, his unusually icy glare, the harsh bite of his words, everything about him expressing that he was on edge much more so than normal. Although he could always relax slightly more when it was just the two of you, today he hadn't yet dropped his cold facade for even a second.

Having had some free time for once in your busy life, you were sat in the armchair in the comfort of your bedroom, nestled in the corner with a book in your hands. Levi had unfortunately been called into a last-minute meeting, much to your dismay, so you waited patiently until he got back.

You heard the slam of the door shutting as he got in and looked up to see him enter, but it was a shock to see the scowl on his face. On any other day the smile you greeted him with would be reciprocated (even if it was only subtle), however that seemed beyond reach considering his bad mood. Your book was quickly discarded.

"Levi? What's wrong?"

Not bothering to look up at you as he roughly tugged his shoes off, he muttered, "Got given a fuck ton of paperwork to finish by the end of the week, plus I've got to watch over the shitty brats from the 104th tomorrow."

You gave him a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry sweetheart. You still have today off though, don't you?"

"Yeah, but if I don't start this work now it won't get finished on time."

"You're going to overwork yourself. Take some time off."

He glared at you, anger smothering his features. "You think it's that easy? You think I don't want a day off? I've got shit to do, I can't just take breaks when I feel like it! Just fuck off and let me work!"

The second the words left his mouth and he saw the way you were looking at him, a wave of guilt washed over him.

"I...I..." He looked away. "Shit..."

Standing from the chair and walking in front of him, you gently took his hand, causing his eyes to flicker up and meet yours. "Levi, look at me. I understand that you're stressed, believe me, but I'm just wary of your wellbeing. You're human too, and even Humanity's Strongest needs a break sometimes." You pressed a finger to his lips when he went to protest. "Think about this logically. If you work non-stop, then you won't be able to concentrate as well, will you? Plus, if you fall behind a little with paperwork, I'm always here to help. I don't mind doing extra if it helps you out. Do you understand?"

"I... don't want to be a burden on you."

"You aren't burdening me if I'm offering."

He nodded, then looked down. "I didn't mean to yell at you." His voice grew smaller, a telltale sign he was nervous. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright, Levi. I know it wasn't intentional."

He looked thoughtful for a moment, though quickly suppressed it.

"What is it?" You had a vague idea, since the same thing happened quite a lot when he was pent-up, but you wanted to be sure.

"It's nothing."

"Tell me."

"I just thought..." His cheeks got warmer and he mumbled, "Maybe we could try that thing we talked about?"

You cupped his face in your hand. "Are you sure you're up for it at the minute?"

"I need to... I need you to help me let go... just for a bit..."

"Ok then, if you're certain." You kissed his cheek. "I'm going to go and fetch a couple of things, stay put."

Levi stood in the middle of your shared bedroom, hands fidgeting in anticipation as he waited for you to return. This was a jump from what your dynamic usually was, but he desperately wanted to try it and you had happily obliged.

You soon returned, locking the door behind you, holding a neat coil of rope and something else that Levi couldn't quite see.

"This is new for us, so I'm not going to go overboard right away. Is that ok?"

Levi took a deep breath. "Mhm..."

"Remind me what your safe words are."

"Amber to slow down, red to stop everything, and hum the melody if I can't speak."

You smiled. "Good boy."

Placing your equipment on the table beside you, you sat down in the armchair and watched him for a moment, still fidgeting and not quite sure what to do with himself.

"Strip," you commanded, lacing dominance into your tone.

Levi blushed and began taking his clothes off, laying each article on the bed until he was completely naked. He stood before you, feeling incredibly exposed and subtly trying to cover himself.

You shook your head in disapproval. "You know better than that. Hands behind your back."

He hesitantly complied, now unable to hide his rapidly growing arousal, and his face flushed a deeper shade of red.

"Kneel." You gestured to the space in front of you and he followed. "Tell me why we're doing this."

He swallowed nervously. "Because I was mean to you."

"That's right. You took your feelings out on me, so we're going to fix that, hm?"

He nodded.

"Use your words."

"Yes mistress..."

"Good boy." You leaned closer, picking up the thing that Levi hadn't yet seen. "Open your mouth."

He did as you asked and soon found out what the object was. You fastened the ball gag securely and looked down at Levi, smirking at the sight. His eyes were wide as he grew accustomed to the foreign feeling, but he couldn't conceal the interested twitch of his cock in response to it.

"You're so pretty like this. Stand up, turn around, and keep your hands behind your back."

Once again following your directions ever so obediently, you picked up the coil of rope and bound his wrists together, before trailing your fingers over his hips. Levi shivered in arousal and tried not to lean into the touch. You knew how sensitive he was, particularly around that area, so you continued to focus your attention to his hips and his inner thighs; all too soon he was tense and shaking, and the second you pulled away he whined from the loss of contact.

"Patience." You turned him around to face you and leant back in the chair, patting your thigh in invitation. "Come here." He stepped closer, unsure of how to proceed, so you gripped his hips and pulled him down to straddle your leg. He whimpered at the sudden pressure on his cock.

"Do you want to cum tonight, sweetheart?"

Levi nodded eagerly.

"After your behavior today, you're going to have to earn it."

Seeing Levi's curious expression, you stroked one finger up his length, making him buck forwards into your touch.

"You're going to get yourself off on my leg, and I'm going to watch, understood?"

He nodded again, whining as you pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw.

"Good. Don't keep me waiting."

Levi wasted no time in grinding down against your thigh, immediately moaning around the gag at the feel of your rough denim jeans against his sensitive cock. It seemed that just having him in such a position was more than enough to get him worked up - your dynamic before had been rather gentle, with only a small power imbalance, so it was a sudden shift to now be in this position, with yourself fully clothed but with Levi naked, bound, and entirely at your disposal.

As you watched Levi rut desperately against you, you thought back to the moment he asked to try this. He told you that he wanted to be used, helpless, humiliated, although he had been rather shy about it to begin with. With the words almost failing to come out, he blushed deeply when you suggested trying it for the first time. You promised it would be a surprise, to keep him on edge with the anticipation and add to the experience when it finally happened, and you certainly hadn't disappointed him if his moans were any indication.

Every thrust of his hips teased him closer to the edge, and as much as you loved to touch Levi usually, this had to be something he did on his own. Knowing that this was all because of his own intense desire, that it wasn't you controlling his movements, that it was his decision to act like a bitch in heat, would only make his feelings of shame more pressing.

You never took your eyes off him for one second, content in the knowledge that it made him feel just that bit more vulnerable, until you glanced at the mirror mounted on the adjacent wall. Levi had clearly forgotten it was there in his pleasure-induced stupor, so you decided that it wouldn't hurt to remind him.

Gripping his chin carefully, you tilted his head to the side so he could see exactly what he looked like in that moment; the mirror was at the perfect angle to reflect every single thing he was doing, all his wanton desperation captured in that perfect image. Although he flushed red in humiliation, he couldn't bring himself to stop his actions, being forced to look himself in the eyes as he rode your leg, and he whimpered in embarrassment as he drooled around the ball gag.

"Look at you, Levi. You're pathetic, aren't you?"

His movements never faltered, but tears began to well up in his eyes as you kept him facing the mirror.

"Imagine if everyone else could see this, hm? Their mighty captain reduced to a needy little slut..."

He sobbed, droplets rolling down his face, and sped up, nearing his high.

"Do you need to cum, Levi?"

A frantic nod in response.

"Do you deserve it? Do you think you've earned it?"

More nodding.

"And you've learnt your lesson?"

A nod and a pitiful whine.

"Very good. Cum for me, Levi."

Tears streaming down his face, Levi moaned as he reached his peak and came with a sharp cry, the sensations all becoming too much for him to bear. He trembled as he came down again, panting and leaning forward to rest his head on your shoulder.

"You've done so well for me, sweetheart," You cooed, reaching behind him to unfasten the gag and untie the rope, putting them both back on the table and taking Levi's hands. He looked up at you and you wiped his tears. "How are you feeling?"

Still catching his breath, he nodded, pressing his forehead against yours. "It... it was really good."

"Not too much?" you questioned, stroking his hair.

"It was perfect... thank you mistress..."

"I'm glad. Now let's get cleaned up, then we can rest. Does that sound alright?"

"Mhm..." Levi smiled lazily and nuzzled against your neck. "As long as I'm with you."

[thewritetofreespeech]

Hiii! I don't know if your requests are open. But i would still like to request one. I would a knb one where the gom+kagami gfs wore a skirt(which shrunk during washing and had no choice but to wear it) and every time they bent, their patience are tested until they couldn't take it anymore. Their s/o completed obvious to the attention they are getting from others.

GOM Boys + Kagami and Short Skirt Reader (f!reader)

Akashi

“[Y/N]-chan, lets go in here.” You pause in your walk with Akashi around town, spending the lovely outside, in front of a pose looking clothing store.

“Here? Why?”

“I thought you might like to buy something in here.” He replied with a soft smile.

“Oh...Akashi-kun...I don’t know. It looks awfully expensive.”

“It’s my treat.” He countered. The corners of his soft smile becoming strained. “I’ll get you anything you want.”

“I appreciate it Akashi-kun, but I couldn’t let you do that. Spending money on me like that would make me feel uncomfortable.”

“[Y/N] please.” Now not only were the corners of his mouth strained, but his voice as well. “I’m trying to put this as delicately as possible but, you’re skirt is too short.” You blink at Akashi. Not expecting that, nor did you really think your skirt was that short. Sure you’d had it since middle school but... “It’s incredibly distracting, and not just for me.” His mouth scrunched in an unflattering frown before it softened again. Those beautiful crimson eyes darting to the left, sending a pack of boys running off. “So please, let me buy you a new skirt or outfit. You look beautiful in anything, so you don’t need a short skirt like that to get my attention.”

That hadn’t been your intention in wearing the skirt today and you blush. “Well....ok.” It was always really hard to argue with him.

Akashi bought you a new outfit in the store; you dare not look at the price tags. You continue on your date hand in hand. Your skirt you had thrown in the shopping bag after changing mysteriously vanishing when you got home.

Aomine

The bell for second period ending chimed, and was soon drowned out by the sound of students shuffling through the halls. You were about to join them to your next class when Ryo asked if you’d seen Aomine. He wasn’t in class, apparently, and he took it upon himself to collect his teammate’s assignments to pass them on to him.

Such a nice guy.

You look towards the window, where the sun was shinning brightly, and sighed. “I’ll give them to him.” You knew exactly where he was.

Climbing the stairs to the roof, you of course find Aomine there. Stretched out like a cat in the warm sun, dozing the day away in the fresh air. 

“Honestly Aomine, you couldn’t even make it to second period?”

The tall, tan basketball star opened his eyes slowly from his cat nap and grinned at you. "What up with your skirt?”

Your cheeks turn red and you tried to futilely pull the front down. “I-I-It shrunk in the wash! The school was supposed to get me a new one but they didn’t have my size!”

“Nah. Keep it. I like this one much better.” His grin grew wider. “Did you wear those blue panties just for me today? Since it’s my favorite color?”

Your blush deepened and your growled at your boyfriend. You swing your arm to swat at his propped up knee but he caught your wrist and pulled you down. Forcing you to fall haphazardly on top of him; just like he planned.

“A-Aomine! Q-Quit it!”

“Nope. No can do.” He replied. His hand on your thigh. “I held out as long as I could. You can’t expect me not to react when you wear your battle panties in front of me.”

Needless to say, neither of you made it to third period.

Kagami

Another lively afternoon at Serin basketball practice. You were sitting on the bleachers, watching your friends and boyfriend, play 2-on-2 games around the court for training. You would cheer Kagami and some of the others on. Doing your part to motivate the team as your way to show support.

Riko finally blew her whistle to call for a break and the team let out a collective sigh of relief.

“H-H-Here!” You look put at Kagami when he came up to you, cheeks flushed, holding out his warm up jacket. “Put it on!”

“I...uh..thanks Kagami-kun. But I’m not cold.” You assume that why he gave it to you.

“It’s not that! Just put it on! Don’t worry. It’s not dirty or anything.”

“Um...ok. But why?” 

“Don’t worry about it!” He snapped. “Just put it on!”

You frown and grumble a little, before you demand, “no. Not until you tell me why.”

Kagami grumbled himself and looked away. “....your skirt....” He said it so quietly that you have to give a little ‘hn?’ and he repeated, “your skirt. It keeps riding up when you cheer. I can’t practice right.....”

You blink in confusion, then blush. You hadn’t thought about your skirt coming up when you cheered. Now you felt embarrassed.

You took his jacket and put it on. Obviously swimming in it with your boyfriend’s large frame, which was good for once because it fell past your skirt for coverage. “Is this better Kagami-kun?”

The red head’s eyes went a little wide, and his cheeks darked to almost the shade of his hair. “N-N-No!” He exclaimed, taking you by surprise, before he looked away and scratched his head. “Now you look even cuter......”

Kise

“It was so nice of manager-san to give me this skirt. I can’t believe I own something from a designer now!”

Kise grumbled beside you as you left his photoshoot. His hand attached to yours squeezing it tighter as you walked. “Kise-kun? Is something wrong?”

The blonde seemed to realize that he was frowning, and quickly bounced back to his jovial self. “What? Oh, no. Nothing’s wrong [Y/N]-cchi. Just tired I guess.” You give a suspicious hum at Kise. Knowing that when he did 180s like this that something really was wrong.

“Kise, you know you can tell me anything. If something wrong, just tell me.”

“It’s....your skirt.” He finally confessed. Looking slightly to the left, away from you. “I’m all for fashion, and it was really nice of manager-san to give it to you, but....it’s too short. And I didn’t want to say anything because I sound like a cranky old man, but it’s true! [Y/N]-cchi’s perfect legs are only for me! I don’t want anyone else to see them!”

You snicker at Kise’s outburst. He could really be so silly sometimes.

“If you didn’t want me to wear it, then why didn’t you say anything.”

“I didn’t want to insult manager-san.” He told you. “He’s helped a lot with my career. And he really was being so nice to you. Plus, green is not my color.” Meaning he was jealous.

You giggle again and lean up to give him a kiss. “Lets head back to my place then and I’ll take it off. I’ll put on something more ‘appropriate’ for you.”

“Or....maybe don’t.” His hand squeezed yours again, only this time his face held on to a bright grin when he looked at you.

“We’ll see.”

Kuroko

You fiddle with the charm on your phone as you head down the street, leaving your apartment to go meet Kuroko.

He was supposed to meet you at your house, but when you didn't see him outside you just assumed that he got mixed up and went to the bookstore you had been planning to go to instead. Boys could be so spacey sometimes.

"Short," you jump a little at the sound behind you, seeing Kuroko there. "Your skirt is short."

"K-Kuroko-kun! Don't scare me like that! Wait....what?" It took you a minute to process what Kuroko was saying, being startled like that. "My skirt is too short?"

"Yes." Kuroko replied in his normal, soft tone, with a little nod. "It's too short."

You grumble a little and stamp your foot. "Who are you to tell me my skirt is too short??"

"No one I guess. But, I'm your boyfriend." He said. As if you needed to be reminded. "And I don't like other people staring at you, [Y/N]-kun." You blink once back at him. You hadn't noticed anyone staring. Nor had you noticed the slight tightening in Kuroko's fist until now. "It's why I've been following behind you for a while now. To keep your butt safe."

You let out a startled squeal and swat Kuroko in the arm as your cheeks turn red. "D-Don't say stuff like that!" You scold while he rubbed his arm. But...maybe he was right. Maybe it was too short. "Fine. Follow me home and I'll go change."

"Right behind you." Kuroko said with a smirk as he came along.

Midorima

‘Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!’ You repeated over and over in your mind as you sprinted in a mad dash towards school.

You alarm hadn’t gone off, and it was honestly a miracle you had woken up even remotely close to the time with just enough time to make it out the door in a panic. If you some how made it to school on time you would never forget to set your alarm again!!

Cresting the hill, you see the gates to the school coming into view. And, more importantly, Midorima standing there. He was always on time, so he must have been waiting for you. Your heart swelled at the thought of it, and it gave you the extra boost to run fast towards him.

“Midorima-kun!”

“Don’t shout. In any case why are you so -- WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU WEARING?!?!”

You come to an abrupt halt in front of your boyfriend. Not expecting that response when you got close to him. “W-What? My uniform?”

“That’s not your uniform! That skirt is too short!”

You look down and turn about as red as Midorima was as you realize the skirt you had pulled out of your closet was your middle school uniform skirt. Not your high school one. They looked close enough in color you hadn’t noticed, and thought the ‘breeze’ was from you running. Could this day get any worse!!

There was movement out of the corner of your eye and you look up from your moping to see a field of green being offered to you. “The Oha Asa is never wrong.”

“M-Midorima-kun.....” You feel like you’re about to cry as you take the scarf and wrap it around your waist. This would do, for now. At least until you could get to your gym locker after first period.

“Let’s go. We’ll be late for class.”

You smile at Midorima and fall in beside him as you head to class. Spirts lifted. Maybe you should listen to the Oha Asa more too.

Murasakibara

"What is the process called when an animal reproduces with itself? Is it A) Biomorphic reproduction? B) Symbiotic reproduction? Or C) Asexual reproduction? ....Mura-kun....? Mura-kun? Are you even listening to me?!"

"Ccccccaaaannnn'ttt...." Murasakibara whined from his place across from you at the table. Looking rather comical scrunched up like that.

"Jeez Mura-kun. I offer to help you study. The least you can do is pay attention."

"Ehh.... I can't. [Y/N]-chin is trying to seduce me."

"W-What??"

The towering teen smirked before he licked the potato chip salt off his fingers, then tugged at the hem of your skirt. "[Y/N]-chin's legs look like tasty mochi. I can't resist."

Your cheeks turn pink and you bat his hand away before returning to your book. "Y-Your...You're not going to get out of this so easy Murasakibara-kun! You need to study!"

Murasakibara frowned with a low hum of disappointment before retuning to his potato chips. "I'd rather have mochi......"

[thrndlngs]

three times shinsou misses the opportunity to kiss you + the one time he seized the moment.

── pairing, shinsou x fem!prohero!reader ── request: x times shinsou wants to kiss fem reader??? pLZ I NEED IT ── author’s note: this was super dope & cute to write. tysm for sending this in. i hope i did this justice and it wasn’t to out of character.  also reader has a water quirk & the two of you are in your early twenties.  ♡ 

i.

     "'toshi,” you whispered, chest against his as the two of you currently hid from the group of villains. your two agencies had partnered up in attempt to take down a new gang of villains who were transporting drugs from the city to the waters, the two of you were partnered because of how the two of you excelled in your respective agencies, shinsou was sent to aid in your patrols of the waters  ──  which is why the two of you are currently hiding in a storage closet on a ship. 

  “shut up.” you don’t take it to heart, you’re sure he means it as nicely as possible - he just lacks a few pages in the ‘vocabulary’ department. 

  “we need to do something.” you tell him, trying your best to meet his gaze in the tight space (which was nearly impossible because he’s towering over you at the moment). he doesn’t reply, not at first at least, if you looked hard enough you would probably see the gears in his head turning. 

  “──stop talking, it’s distracting me.” 

  your mouth quickly shuts, fidgety hands are now at your side, you were starting to get antsy and there was practically little to no room to move around without being heard - or seen for that matter. 

  “they switch the guards every ten minutes, in the middle of the switch, we run.” the purple haired male explained, taking a peak at the time on his cellphone. the two of you had to endure this for three more minutes. just three more minutes and you would be free.

  “three minutes,” you repeated, more to confirm this for yourself. you’re sure you wouldn’t last that long, after all, this was shinsou, the male you’ve had a crush on for quite some time now. how were you expected to last that long?

  “──think of it like seven minutes of heaven.”

  “we haven’t played that since── “

  “yeah, yeah i know, but just think of it like that. don’t think about the closet, just the game.” 

  you nodded quickly, meeting his gaze as the two of you stood there in silence. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t thinking about kissing him. it seemed like the perfect moment - it was just the two of you. if it were the last day on earth, you at least wanted to go out with a bang. you know?

  “let me get comfortable, you can do the same after.” you watched as he places either hands besides your head, slouching a bit against the wall so his back could have some sort of support. he nods to you, signaling for you to do the same. 

  it takes you a moment, the position shinsou is currently in causes your heart to skip just a few beats. were you disappointed in yourself for letting your mind drift.. elsewhere during a mission? for sure. did you care right now? absolutely not.

  you cleared your throat, widening your stance and trying to balance the weight in between your legs to help ease some of the weight  ──  but there wasn’t really much you could do.

  “two minutes.” 

   this had to be the longest three minutes of your life.

   “i think i just tasted my own sweat.” he complained. it feels like he’s sweating in places he shouldn’t produce sweat in.

  “i feel like a fish out of water,” you added.

  “──gonna start passing out if i don’t throw you in the water soon?”

  “says the one whose sweating to death.” 

  “and you’re dehydrated. guess we’re both shit out of luck aren’t we?”

  “yeah, but, i think this isn’t the worst way to die.” 

  he takes another peak at his cellphone, noting that there’s a minute left before the two of you could finally get out of this damn storage closet. “you’ve got a minute to tell me anything worse than dying like this.” 

  in hindsight ── there’s a lot that could happen in a minute, that’s the only reason you said something to begin with. “alone, i could die in this closet, alone and then you know, it would be lonely.” 

 “are you serious?” 

  “oh come on! that’s pretty serious!”

  “it ── it really isn’t,” he’s trying to laugh as quietly as possible and you playfully slapped him in his shoulder. 

 “okay, well, i wouldn’t want to die alone.”

  “mhm, scaredy cat.” his smile is infectious and for a moment, he forgets that the two of you are stuck in a storage closet. maybe now would be the perfect time to kiss you, when it’s just the two of you, waiting to make your grand escape, when the two of your are just centimeters apart. 

  “now’s our chance,” he whispered, straightening himself to get out first just in case. he doesn’t want to act off of impulses. if he kisses you, he wants to make sure it’s because you want him too.

ii.

     “good to see you when you’re not acting like a goldfish who just hopped out of it’s bowl.” the familiar voice teased from behind you, hands folded behind his head. if it were anyone else, you might have tripped them.

  “──don’t you have to go buy hair dye now or something?”

  “no that was after i made sure a fisherman didn’t take you on the way home.”

  “is this what do you do on your spare time? think of jokes that revolve around my quirk?”  

  he rolls his shoulder lazily, leaning against the apartment railing across from your front door. “they come naturally, no extra thinking required.”

  “and here i thought all the hair dye went to your brain.”

   this wasn’t out of the norm for the two of you, he would make the first jab and then you would follow suit. sometimes, the bickering could go on for hours  ──  regardless of task at hand (like the time the two of you were trying to detain a villain and shinsou had told the woman you were a water sprite), it’s an old nickname of yours, he had given it to you back at the sports festival when you were kids. you had earned it when you had almost drown mineta because he wouldn’t stop making inappropriate jokes and you had brought the entire water fountain down on him. 

  as the two of you stood there in silence, you, had your back against your door, hands folded behind you while he stood parallel, arms against his chest he wonders: is this the time he kisses you goodnight? 

  “d’ya want to come inside? i have leftovers? we could pull an all nighter like we used to do back in the dorms?” there’s a hint of hopefulness in your eyes and he would feel like absolute shit if he declined the offer.

  “only because you have food.” 

  he doesn’t kiss you goodnight then. and he doesn’t kiss you goodnight when you fall asleep on his shoulder after the second horror movie either. if you were anyone else, he would’ve left without a care in the world, but it’s you and you are different. 

  so he stays and tells himself that tomorrow will be a new day and tomorrow, he can try again.

iii.

     “i don’t dance,” shinsou tells you as you so desperately tried to bring him onto the dance floor. it’s a hero’s gala, everyone from your respective classes at U.A. were here, pro heroes from all around the world and some of your old instructors as well  ──  these aren’t his thing, you know that. you remember his attitude during the first two hours of the third year’s ‘goodbye party’ - not much had changed. he’s taller, a bit more handsomer and smiles more often. 

  “you do tonight, come on.” while you had dragged him by one hand, the other desperately tried to loosen his tie because it feels like he’s suffocating. 

  “──you’ll be the death of me woman.” he’s mumbling under his breath, one hand resting in yours as the other found its place at your waist.

  “because i asked you to dance? might i say this is on your list of horrible ways to die?” you teased, offering him that infectious smile that makes him go weak in his knees. he hates to admit the pull you have on him  ──  he might even go as far as saying you might have him wrapped around that finger of yours and you don’t even know it yet.

  “if it’s by your hands i would say it’s a merciful death.”

  “a merciful death? i’ll keep that in mind.” 

  “don’t test your luck,” you know he’s only messing with you  ──  

  you’re to busy enjoying the moment to think of some witty comeback. it’s something about the way your hand seems to fit perfectly in his. or how the two of you are able to move in sync without any words spoken in between the two of you that’s driving you insane.

  if you would’ve told your past self that you would be slow dancing with the hitoshi shinsou at a hero’s gala while the world around you disappeared you would’ve laughed at the idea. it would’ve seem silly to you  ──  stupid even. shinsou and you weren’t rivals like you and bakugou were, but, you had always found yourself trying to one up him. 

  yet here you were, swaying to the slow tune as you managed to snake your arms around his midsection and rest a head against his chest. maybe this was his chance: with the little distance in between the two of you, dim lighting and dressed to the nines. surely, this would be a good memory to relive later down the road wouldn’t it? 

  but he wanted to savor the moment. so he decides it against it  ── despite the ache in his chest.

  iv.

     "we did it.” shinsou muses, an awkward hand offered in your direction for you to shake. it’s been six months but your agencies had finally shut down the smuggling operation and you could finally take the break you had so desperately needed. you weren’t sure what to do with the outstretched hand, but, you give in anyways, resting your hand in his as he gave it a firm shake.

  “pleasure doing business with you.” you tell him, lips curving into a bittersweet smile. teasing, bickering and ‘playful’ sparring aside, you were going to miss him. you were used to patrolling and doing missions on your own but this was different. 

  “try not to end up on the other side of fishing hook, yeah?” it’s his way of telling you to be careful in shinsou’s teasing nature.

  “make sure i’m the one to grant you the merciful death.” please be careful, is what you want to say. though you couldn’t bring yourself to say it aloud - if you did, it would only confirm that you care about the purple haired pro hero more than you should. 

  he shakes his head with a laugh, “you’re the only one who gets the satisfaction.” 

  “it better stay that way ‘toshi.” 

  he doesn’t know for certain if your agencies would cross paths again. your agency was closer to the waters and he was closer in the city, the chance that you would run into one another again would be slim to none. 

 he clears his throat for a moment, retreating his hand from yours and placing them at your waist instead. he’s pictured this a thousand times but now that he’s in the moment he couldn’t manage to find the right words. it’s frustrating, really.

  “──hi.” you’re holding your breath in anticipation, was this another one of his games? was he going to kiss you? tell you a secret? use his capture weapon and tell you that he’s not letting you go until you admit something embarrassing?

  he doesn’t care anymore. doesn’t care if it makes him look like a love sick idiot when he kisses you like it’s the last thing he’s about to do before he dies, he doesn’t care if anyone’s watching or for the wrinkles you’ll cause since you’ve got a fistful of his shirt in a desperate attempt to close whatever little distance the two of you had between you. 

  you pull away first causing him to pout (which was actually cute but you’d never give him the satisfaction of knowing that) but you do laugh.

  “you know,” he muses, a hand reaching up to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly, a habit you hadn’t seen in years. “──i didn’t want to let you walk away without something to remember, my little water sprite.” 

  you rolled your eyes at the choice of nickname but were flattered nonetheless, your own arms finding their way around his neck, “who said i was walking away?”

[orobaxi]

aftercare.

since he tends to be quite rough during sex, he makes sure to give you extra care afterwards. you won’t need to raise a finger – he’ll wipe you off, offer you water & painkillers, & give you anything else you ask for. & although he won’t apologize verbally if he accidentally injured you, you’ll be able to tell that he’s sorry from his actions.

body part.

he loves your eyes. so full of emotion – so full of lust for him & him alone. from the way your pupils dilate when he takes off his shirt to the way they roll into the back of your head when you orgasm – fuck, he loves them so, so much. on himself, his strength. although he dislikes how he struggles with controlling it sometimes, he’s still proud of it.

cum.

oddly sweet, & on the thinner side. however, there’s always a large amount of it – which is probably caused by his thousands of years of abstinence. anyway, it’s almost required to have a washcloth for immediate cleanup.

dominant/submissive.

he’s almost always dominant, & will only be submissive after you’ve gained the entirety of his trust. before that point, though, he’ll act offended if you even suggest it.

experience.

absolutely none. you’ll be his first, & you’ll have to help him a bit at first. he’s never had the time to masturbate or have sex (he didn’t take interest in anyone anyway), since his job of protecting liyue & its people was prioritized over anything else.

favorite position.

in all honesty, he doesn’t have a favorite. as long as he can hear your whimpers & moans, he’s perfectly content. however, considering how much he loves your eyes & facial expressions, he may be a fan of missionary.

goofy.

since he rarely jokes around anyway, why would he during sex? to him, sex itself is an act of true love – & i’m sure he’d take offense if you attempted to joke around with him during this time. why would he have sex if it’s not going to be a serious moment? why would he have sex if you treat it as a joke?

hair.

although he doesn’t shave, he trims it once it reaches a certain point – one inch, to be exact. half an inch is the most comfortable for him, but he tends to put off trimming until that point. if you ask him to trim further, however, he’ll happily comply.

intimacy.

constant mumblings about how much he loves you, typically followed by praises concerning how well you’re taking him; growling in your ear & degrading you, telling you how much of a slut you are… it depends on his mood, really. jack off.

jack off.

in all honesty, he rarely masturbates – the thought itself makes him uncomfortable, & he doesn’t have much time to do it anyway. the closest he’s gotten to masturbation was dry humping one of his bed’s pillows out of pure frustration.

kinks.

begging, light bondage, edging… those are the things he can name off the top of his head, at least. he’d enjoy anything that you’re into, though – seeing you in pleasure is enough for him to get off. he does have some limits, but you’ll have to figure them out together.

location.

although he prefers to have sex in private areas, he’s open to the idea of fucking you in the many ruins scattered within liyue. well, as long as its nighttime, that is. he frequently fantasizes about bending you over the wangshu inn’s balcony, forcing you to take him until you’re shaking, crying from a mixture of pleasure & pain, & begging him to let you have a break.

motivation.

dirty talk & teasing touches have a surprising effect on him, however, if you were to simply inform him that you want him, that’ll be enough of a reason for him to fuck you. teasing touches must be done in moderation, & you’ll have to play your cards perfectly if you want a positive response from him. ideally, these touches should be done either in private or just out of others eyesight, & should be followed up with light dirty talk. whisper how much you need him & how you don’t know how long you’ll last without him – tell him you’ve been craving his touch for hours & whimper his name… he’ll make time to fuck you.

no.

weapons of any sort will never be allowed during sex. he’s far too afraid of seriously hurting – or even accidentally killing – you, & he doesn’t understand the possible thrill you may feel from it. otherwise, almost anything is on the table.

oral.

surprisingly, he prefers giving over receiving. he wouldn’t know what he was doing at first, but he’s almost a natural at it. perhaps it’s the way he listens to the sounds you’re making & looking up at your facial expressions that inform him that he’s doing good, or it’s your quiet moans of praise that tell him all he needs to know. if you need to, you can gently guide him; pull his hair towards where you need him to be, tell him that he needs to swirl his tongue a bit more… xiao can’t help but feel a bit awkward & insecure when he’s receiving oral, however. he loves the way you make him feel & the way you look up at him with half-lidded eyes, but he can’t help but wonder if you’re truly enjoying it as much as he is. either way, he’s sure to inform you of just how good you’re doing – both through his words & his body language. struggling to keep his hips from bucking, throwing his head back ever so slightly, the slight shake of his legs… it’s a heavenly sight, that’s for sure.

pace.

teasingly slow & gentle, taking his time to savor your expressions & the sounds pouring out of your mouth; rapidly pounding into you & making you see stars, continuously bringing you to your orgasm with little care for your comfort. it depends on both of your moods, really. he won’t be rough with you if you don’t want him to be, & he expects you to have the same respect for his wishes.

quickie.

very, very rarely, as he’d much rather wait until the two of you had time for a long session. however, if you insisted that you couldn’t wait, he may succumb to your desire.

risk.

while he dislikes sexual risks of any kind, he’d be willing to indulge you if you requested.

stamina.

he can continuously fuck you for hours on end, with the only hindrance being your own energy & his adepti responsibilities. occasionally, he’ll give you a break for an hour or so, & then ask if you’re ready to go again – if this is met with a negative response, however, he’ll refrain from doing it again.

toys.

while he doesn’t own any, he’ll be pleasantly surprised if you have some. he’ll be nervous about you using them on him, but he’ll gladly use them on you. while he’ll never purchase any toys himself, he won’t complain if you buy any.

unfair.

he’ll only tease if  you attempt to tease him first, but he’ll always beat you at your own game. he’s bold enough to tease you under tables & make out with you in places that are barely out of the eyesight of others – whispering about what he wants to do to you, gently biting your neck, & then pulling away to leave you shaking with want.

volume.

when he’s dominant, deep moans & growls are typical of him. while he’s typically quiet, there are times where the two of you are glad he put silencing talismans throughout the bedroom – otherwise, the entire inn could hear him. “you’re more needy than i thought you were… you’re perfect.” “you’re taking me so well. i’m almost done, don’t worry.” on the rare occasion that he’s submissive, surprisingly feminine whimpers & groans will fill the air. he’s quite insecure about this, & thus constantly attempts to muffle himself with a pillow. if there’s nothing nearby for him to muffle himself with, he’ll try to use his hands – if his hands are tied, though, you’re in for a treat. “sh–shit, right there! fuck–” “it’s too much, it hurts–! i need more, please–”

wild card.

when he orgasms, his tattoos glow ever so slightly. he isn’t sure why, though, & he’s oddly insecure about it. after you tell him how you feel about it – how hot it is to you – those insecurities will slowly fade.

xray.

just below average length, but he makes up for the slight loss with the fact that he knows exactly what you need him to do in order to make you cum – & he’s amazingly talented with his fingers.

yearning.

he never felt much desire before, but this changed soon after the two of you got into a relationship. there’s periods of time where he doesn’t think about sex at all, but then there’s times where his sex drive skyrockets. despite this, he won’t bring the idea of sex up to you unless you ask first – he still feels a bit shy about his desires.

zzz.

xiao rarely gets tired, & he’s usually the one to clean up any messes afterwards. since he knows you’re tired, though, he’ll lay down with you until you fall asleep. however, he still has to preform his duties as an adeptus, & you’ll wake up without him more often than not.

[ladyreapermc]

Fic: Closing Time (Johnny Utah x fem!reader)

Summary: You work at a clothing store, you get a last minute customer at closing time and sexy tims happen.

Pairing: Johnny Utah x fem!reader

Author’s Notes: So I’m slowly getting back to writing. I’m not gonna say I’m fully back just yet, but for this week at least, there will be content! Huge thanks to @toomanystoriessolittletime and @meetmeinthematinee​ for being cheerleaders and giving me early feedback on this! 

Wordcount: 3125

Warnings: smut. oral sex (F! receiving); dirty talk; unprotected sex with strangers (don’t do this kids!); sex in inappropriate places.

Most days you quite enjoyed it when there was barely any movement at the store. It gave you the opportunity of just being by yourself, reading a book, or enjoying some music or studying for college, things that you didn’t always have the privacy of doing at your dorm because your roommate seemed to always be around. Even during the summer and what was up with that? Didn’t she have better things to do?

She wasn’t like you, who actually had to work to put yourself through college and took some extra jobs during the summer so you could have some savings for the following term when all you managed to get were part-time jobs that you had fit in between classes and paid shit.

Fortunately, at the shop, you had some peace and time for yourself. It was a tiny, hole-in-the-wall sort of place around Venice Beach where tourists could get some shirts and other knickknacks to take back home and locals surfers could find cheap clothing and supplies for a day out on the beach. Most days, you worked from 9-5 and after your shift, you could head to the beach, spread your towel on the sand and enjoy the gorgeous Californian sunset. However, as the summer winded out and the fall winds blew the scalding hot weather into simmering heat, your boss let you close a little early, especially on Tuesdays, when most tourists had already headed home and the new arrivals hadn’t landed yet so there were barely any customers around.

Your plan today had been to finish your reading for class and start the new crime thriller you picked up at the used books store on your way to work. Except, today you were just too restless to focus. You must have reread the same paragraph of your textbook twenty times before you gave up and set it aside, giving the other book a go, but it was just as unsuccessful at holding your attention.

So instead, you moved around the cramped space, adjusting the decoration items, dusting off shelves, and refolding every single shirt in the display until it was perfectly symmetrical while you willed time to move faster so you could end this day. Maybe it was the heatwave that had made an appearance turning the air in the shop stifling and all you had to help you was an old and slow fan that made more noise than blow air. The A/C was busted and your boss still hadn’t called someone to fix it.

Another possibility was the fact that you had to keep the glass doors opened to help circulate a little air and every time any kind of wind blew or someone walked in, it brought with them the crisp smell of salt and sand that always made you ache for the ocean and fight against the temptation of just abandoning everything and heading for the beach so you could cool off taking a dip in the deliciously cold water. Either way, you kept checking the slow ticking of the clock hands, counting the seconds before you could turn the closed sign.

When the minute hand finally hit twelve, you let out a cheer, jumping off your stool and taking a step towards the door. You always locked the doors first to discourage most last-minute walk-ins while you closed the register, put away the money in the back office safe, and slipped out of the store through the back door, taking any garbage with you to throw in the dumpster outside.

Before you could move from behind the counter, a man stepped into the store and you groaned low in your throat. Of-fucking-course! It was like they stood in wait to come in at the precise moment you were about to head out.

“Hey, you’re still open, right?” He asked, pushing the overgrown dark hair back from his forehead and offering you an unsure smile. You felt the urge to lie and say that no, you were closed and he should come back tomorrow.

“Yeah, sure.” You said instead placing your best and most fake seller’s smile. “Feel free to look around and let me know if you need help.”

“Thanks!” He replied, flashing a wider smile that showed a small dimple, before moving towards the shirts in the display while you made your way to the main entrance, flipped the sign, and locked the door to bar any other walk-ins.

You hung back while the guy browsed the options, taking a moment to assess him. He didn’t look like a tourist, but also not fully like a local. Most Californian guys that you knew had the most horrifying hair cuts or bleach jobs you had ever seen and that was not the case for the man in front of you.

His hair was dark brown, a little shaggy from too much exposure to sun and salt and it flopped a little over his forehead, just above his eyes. He wore a grey cropped t-shirt that had definitely seen better days and struggled to contain his broad shoulders, showing a peek of toned abs. His jeans were ridiculously tight and hung low on his slender hips, the light-wash of the denim accentuating the perfect bubble butt and for the love of God, you needed to get laid. Badly.

“Excuse me,” he called, startling you and you prayed he hadn’t noticed the way you were checking his ass just now. “Do you have this one in black?”

“Yeah, sure.” You moved towards the drawers. “What’s your usual size? Medium or large?”

“I think large should be good,” he replied and when you turned around with the requested shirt, he was just standing there, barechested, his top hanging from his shoulder and you hoped your gasp wasn’t as loud as it sounded in your head.

“Here you go,” you croaked, offering him the shirt. “We do have a fitting room…” you gestured towards the small cubicle to the rear of the store.

“Oh right!” He glanced over as he pulled the shirt on. “Do you mind if I try them out here, though?”

“Not at all,” you forced your voice to sound somewhat normal.

“Awesome!”

Damn! He wasn’t just fucking hot. He was also cute, the wide grin he just flashed giving him a boyish look that was only enhanced by the almond-shaped chocolate-colored eyes. Biting your lip, you watched as he turned side to side in front of the mirror, checking himself out.

“It think is a little too big,” he said, meeting your gaze. “What do you think?”

“Well…” you cleared your throat and moved closer so you could look at him through the mirror. “If you want it more fitted, then yeah, probably a smaller size would be best. Want me to get it?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Once again, by the time you turned back to him, he was shirtless, the garment he had just tried neatly folded and resting on the shelf as he took a look at some other shirts, his attention snapping at you when he noticed you coming closer to hand him the new shirt, giving you a glimpse of a pale, sunken scar running down his abs that stopped just above his belly button and that drew attention to the small trail of fine dark hairs that disappeared under the waist of his jeans and holy shit! He was bare beneath those jeans.

“Bike accident,” he commented as he took the shirt that you offered and you met his eyes in confusion.

“What?” You asked, mouth suddenly dry.

“The scar,” he clarified, putting on the shirt and his lips were tilted into a slight smirk. “That was what you were staring at, right?”

“Right,” you agreed, feeling your face burning. “I’ll just head to the register and give you some privacy.”

I don’t mind,” he shrugged, turning to the mirror. “This is better. What do you think?” He turned towards you, giving you a full view of the cotton fabric covering his muscles, looking almost as if painted on him.

“Sure...” you swallowed hard, trying not to stare. “If you prefer it more fitted...”

“I do,” pulling the shirt off and once again giving you the glorious view of his torso. “I’ll take it.”

You took the shirt to the register and he followed, pausing only to pick up his own, which he had discarded on a nearby hanger. You were expecting him to put it back on, but he just threw it over his shoulder, reaching for his wallet as you registered the sale and tried not to stare.

“Is that the only camera you have around here?” He asked, gesturing to a point above your left and you glanced at the object before nodding, exchanging the money he gave you for the paper bag with his purchase.

“Yeah, why?”

“So basically...” he started, taking a step to the side, closer to the fitting room. “I’m completely out of sight over here?”

“Basically, yeah,” you frowned a little, stepping away from the counter. “Why? Are you planning to rob the place? Because let me tell you, there’s not much worth...” You trailed off with a surprised squeak as he tugged on your hand, pulling you over to the blindspot and nearly pressed against his strong chest.

“Because honestly, I never really gave a fuck about the shirt. I just thought you were beautiful and wanted to ask your number when I walked in, but you looked kind pissed so I got cold feet,” he confessed with a rueful smile.

“So you decided to just get mostly naked in front of me?” You snorted, shaking your head and he shrugged.

“Needed to make sure you might be interested and considering the way you were eyeing me earlier, it looked like you saw something you liked.”

“You’re really sure of yourself, aren’t you?” You arched an eyebrow at him, not ready to concede just yet. Even if the heat of his body and the smell of sea breeze whiffing off his skin were driving you crazy.

“Only when I’m right,” he flashed you a lopsided smirk and just waited, gazing into your eyes, making it clear that the next step was yours.

Part of you screamed that it was crazy to even consider hooking up with a guy that just walked into your store, no matter how hot he was, but it had been a ridiculously long time since you last had sex and he was so fucking hot, the scent of his golden skin intoxicating and his heat was making you dizzy with want as you looked him up and down, noticing the volume pressing against the denim of his pants.

“We might not have cameras, but the windows are see-through, so get your ass to the fitting room while I finish closing up.”

He flashed a victorious smirk and nodded, heading towards the back while you rushed through the steps of securing the store before joining him.

Your heart was pounding with anticipation as you made your way towards the back, pushing away the curtain that blocked the small space of the fitting room and finding him perched on the low stool that you kept there so customers could put down their things, facing the full-length mirror, legs spread, jeans undone, revealing the bush of dark hairs surrounding his long and thick cock.

You nearly whimpered at the sight, your center pulsing in want as you leaned against the doorframe, watching him as he run his left hand up and down his shaft, head tilted back, breathing hard, eyes hooded. He was such a beautiful and debauched sight that you felt the urge to photograph him, capture that sensuality.

“Are you just gonna stand there and watch?” He asked, eyes meeting yours through the reflective surface.

“You seemed to be doing fine on your own,” you teased stepping into the tight space, fingers itching to touch all that glorious skin.

“I did not just spend most of my afternoon at the corner diner, drinking burned coffee just to jerk off in front of you,” he declared, standing up and turning your way.

“Ohhh, so this was premeditated?” You asked, kicking off your sneakers as he reached for you and you stumbled against his chest.

“A little bit, yeah,” he admitted, large hand hot against your hips and you wanted to feel it against your flesh. “You probably don’t remember, but I was here last week and you had to bend over to get something from one of the lower drawers...” he let out a soft groan, hands moving to your ass and squeezing lightly. “Fuck! I don’t think I ever popped a boner so fast in my life. I had to get out.”

You vaguely remembered that. There was so much coming and going in this place, it was hard to keep track of faces, but customers just taking off after asking to see something usually caused an impression. If you weren’t about to get fucked after six months, you would be more pissed.

“So you decided to come back when I was alone and seduce me?” you asked, running your hands over his chest and abs, scratching it slightly and goosebumps rose in his skin as he hissed.

“Yeah,” he spoke in a low voice as his hands move to the button of your jeans. “I’ve been thinking about you all week,” he slid your fly down and your breath caught in your throat. “I thought about bending you over that counter and fucking you until you’re screaming.” His fingers skimmed over your cunt, just a soft touch, but you gasped and arched your hips forward, holding onto his arms to steady yourself. “I thought about it eating your pussy and your ass until you’re begging me to fuck you.”

Those words were whispered right against your ear, before he changed your positions, crowding you against the mirror and pushing your jeans down to your thighs before he once against skimmed his fingers over covered sex, making you ache for him.

“What do you think about that?” He asked, lips brushing your cheek in an almost chaste kiss, completely opposed to the lewdness of his hand exploring your cunt. “Do you want it?”

“If you’re as good with your tongue at eating pussy like you are at talking dirty, then I maybe I do,” you declared, tired of his teasing and you felt his smirk as he gracefully slid to his knees in front of you.

You didn’t manage to get another word out before he shoved your panties down to join your jeans and his lips firmly connected to your clit. He gave it a sharp suck and you groaned, burying your fingers into his hair to keep yourself on your feet as your brain short-circuited and your knees turned to jelly.

He was very good at eating you out, especially because he was very attentive to every sound you made, every tightening of your grip on his hair, and roll of your hips to nudge him into going faster or slower, harder or softer... It wasn’t long before he reached that perfect alternation of fast flickering against your clit and slower and broad strokes of his tongue over your entrance and lips, a combination that drove you crazy.

You were whimpering and moaning, legs quaking with the alternating urge to close them around his face to keep him trapped there pleasuring you forever or spreading them wider so he could have more space to work, but the edges of your jeans were digging into the lower part of your knees, signaling you that that was as far as they could go.

As if reading your thoughts or maybe he just realized he would need more room, he shoved your pants down and helped you to kick them off so you could be completely free of the garment. And didn’t you two looked like a mismatched pair, with you standing there wearing only your top while he knelt in front of you, his jeans still on.

Once your pants were off, he hooked your right thigh over his shoulder, pressing his mouth even harder against your cunt, flickering his tongue over your clit before dipping it in between your lips, gathering the juices soaking your sex like a starved man.

“Fuck! I’m so close...” you hissed, rolling your hips, seeking more because that tight knot deep inside you was about to snap and from the way you ached and shuddered, your muscles tensing, you knew it would be a hard one.

“Yeah?” He mumbled against your core, his breath against your overheated skin making you shiver as he pushed two fingers inside you. “Gonna cum all over my mouth?”

He pistoled his fingers in and out at a fast pace, crooking inwards with every down motion, his tongue matching his rhythm against your clit and it was that made you snap as you bit down on your fist to stop yourself from shouting as your body was flooded with pleasure and all you knew was the unbelievable bliss that surrounded you. Stars bust behind your closed lids, the air came out of your lungs in short gushes as you fought hard not to slide down to the ground because your legs felt like jelly.

“Ok?” he asked, making you finally snap your eyes open to look at him.

He was sitting on his heels, face still glistening with your orgasm, his lips swollen and red from the abuse. His cock was rock hard, red, and leaking and you really wanted to return the favor.

“Way better than ok,” you replied with a gasp. “My turn?” To your surprise, he shook his head and got to his feet.

“Tonight, the only place I’m cumming is in that pussy,” he announced against your ear and shivered with anticipation. “So let’s get out of this fucking store and go to my place?”

“Fuck yes!” you grinned breathlessly at him as you reached for your jeans and he buttoned his over his hard cock and that couldn’t be comfortable.

“I’m Johnny, by the way,” he said. “Johnny Utah. Just in case you want to know what to shout when I fuck your brains out later.”

You rolled your eyes at his cheeky smirk and moved closer to him, once fully clothed, the only evidence of your recent climax was the sweat cooling on your skin and the stupid grin that refused to leave your face.

“I think I like you more when your mouth is busy with something other than talking,” you declared and before Johnny could manage a reply, you silenced him with a kiss, tasting yourself in his tongue.

xxx

If you enjoyed this work, please consider reblogging and/or commenting please. Feedback gives life to us writers!

[sugar-petals]

#Scream For Me (m)

↳ PAIRING. sub!hyunjin x domme!reader

↳ SUMMARY. It’s his first time. You’re in charge. He lets loose. 

↳ WORDS. 3k

warnings ⚠️ spit play, fingering, blindfolds, ribbon bondage, handjobs, casual domination, oral (f receives), slow dick riding, as you can tell by the title he’s very loud, sloppy sex, choking, aftercare

♡ NOTE ➝ surprise surprise, writing for stray kids today! vocal hyunjin is domme candy👌

“I’ll be very gentle,” you hook two fingers down the hem of his jeans. Hyunjin quickly nods: Both your attention lies on just how much his pants are bulging out already. As long as you stay focussed, surely this will be a calm first time for him— Well, we’ll see about that. In fact, if you already knew what is slumbering inside of him? You’d get fucking ready.

“Can I please touch you as well?”

He’s fumbling at your thighs, your dress, and you can feel his nervousness in the fingertips already.

“You can. But first— Mommy unwraps her present. You know how it goes.“

And it’s a big present, I’m telling you. So big, you have a hard time smoothly unzipping him in one go. And since his hips won’t hold still — God is he sensitive to touching, but hey, what’s not to like — undressing him takes some real maneuvering. It’s not easy to whip a 300 feet yacht out of some average harbor. 

“Do you like it?” 

“Uh-huh. Something I can work with right there.”

A bit of lube distributed in both hands, a deep breath, now you’re good to go. You give it a few pumps to accommodate Hyunjin to your touch. As expected: He’s not very stoic about it. Even though he’s fully reclined on your bed, and it couldn’t be any cozier, he bucks up.

“Ah!“

“Don’t worry. Just teasin’. Here,” you give him access to your dress by lifting it past your hip. His left hand finds its way past your underwear pretty fast. Guess who’s relieved by a distraction from his spike in arousal. Now that you think about it, he might like some casual handjobs in the daytime or while driving. During cuddles, maybe. 

How not to touch him all day. He’s all big and girthy, he reacts well. Your fingers fits perfectly around him, too. Hyunjin’s nice as fuck to hold and stroke. Not to mention lightning fast when it comes to reciprocating. He’s shy about a lot of things, and that’s because of having few experience, but not about being mutual. Green flag.

“So wet...”

“Just for you. Go ahead, take a dip.“

Hyunjin definitely looks like he’s having the time of his life just fingering you. Freestyle, no rules, no strategies. He delights in just pleasing you at every angle. Fuck, his hands are so nice. At one point, you resort to ripping off your panties altogether. Easier access. He gets even harder in your palm.

“Is that good?”

“That’s good, babe. Keep on circling.”

Those lips probably make for an even more unruly type of stimulation between your legs. If they’re only half as lawless, Jesus you’ll be spiralling already. They’re so nice and plump. Big cock, big lips, is there some sort of correlation? Anyway. Hyunjin feels like the type to eat pussy obsessively, so. But you think you have to be careful introducing him to it. Knowing him, he’d straight up suffocate himself on first try. Hwang Hyunjin, death by pussy.

“Can I try it with my lips as well, please?“

Fate has its way of doing things, huh. And he knows you’ve been looking at his lips, doesn’t he.

“I’ll only let you kiss and suck until I count to thirty. Wait, let me get on my back.”

“Okay!”

Switching spots lets you feel the warmth where Hyunjin just led his back. He doesn’t waste much time. One blink and he props up his lips at your entrance, waiting for instructions. Well shit.

“Keep it shallow,” you get a fistful of his hair. “Kiss, kiss. Like that. Move it just an inch upward. Don’t touch your cock, I still wanna ride it later. Lay flat on the bed. Put your hands around my thighs. 29, 28...“

At that prospect, he becomes even more obedient. His tongue doesn’t do a bad job at all. Oh wonder, he breathes just fine. First time eating you out: You get the impression that this guy has some serious talent there.

“Tastes really good. It’s all bubbly,“ Hyunjin smiles bright from ear to ear. You’ve just stopped counting by now.

“Ugh, fuck it. Just eat, eat.”

That goes on for almost five minutes, in fact. He licks and services you perfectly. That his lips feel ten times more sensual than they already look has your breath going much shorter and your grip in his hair much tighter. So much about making assumptions. And it makes sense, not having his cock stimulated has Hyunjin cooling down a little. Suspiciously so. 

When you were stroking him off, he’d go wild right along. Conclusion: Handjobs and Hyunjin are like pressing a red button. Eating pussy: Chill area. Noted. Complete slobbery wetness: Also noted. You wonder what that’s good for.

“Hyunjin, should we go for it now? I want you inside me. You’ll slip right in so nicely. I’ll take good care of you, you don’t have to be nervous.“

“Can we kiss while we do it?”

Nothing you’d love more. You lay Hyunjin just where he started out, get a soft black ribbon from the nightstand. As promised, you tie his arms above his head, not too tightly or anything. A simple bow tie keeps the whole thing together, making it easy to open. The loose ends dangle at the sides of his wrists, teasing his skin. Goosebumps. It all makes for a nice view of his arms, and his head is brought a little forward, it’s perfect to kiss. He’s practically on the verge of kissing without you moving your lips close to his.

Starting with a little peck on the forehead and nose, you make sure he feels well in his position and get a second black ribbon to tie his eyes. A bit tighter, just so it won’t come off when his head moves. The knot you place on the right side rather than the back of the head, it’d be uncomfortable against the pillow he’s rested on. Hyunjin gets more and more excited.

“I want you to just feel. Do you want me to start?”

 “Yes—,” he says. “And, do it slowly. I don’t want you to hurt yourself also.“

He’s so sweet. And he knows his dick is kinda massive. Too many first times ruined because of that. 

“Extra slow, Hyunjin. I’ll make this feel really great for us. Come, kiss me.”

Your tongues connect just when you get hold of him with your right hand. The touch has Hyunjin groaning into the kiss—

Pretty fucking strongly.

There he goes again. Your fingers, red button, the whole shebang. Little did you know he’d start whining even more the second you line him up between your pussy lips, and move his tip around a bit. Just to say hi to your clit, and to give yourself a good feel of what’s going in first. Hyunjin is literally falling apart below you already. He can barely keep it in. 

And you can’t keep it out: Finally, you point his cock tip between your labia, and his saliva is just perfect to help you glide it past the entrance. Hyunjin’s kisses are getting hungry and desperate, and even louder, with heavy breaths along the way. 

“Jesus Christ,” he’ll catch you mumbling, and you can feel his dick throbbing. “Let me hear you!”

“You’re squeezing me! Oh shit, shit!”

Looks like someone’s very passionate to say the least. It didn’t stop with the handjob, then. Any kind of contact with his dick is having Hyunjin’s voice do somersaults. Guess why he’s walking around so noisily all day when he’s just walking and his pants do their thing like, giving him a good rub even if it’s just lightly on the surface.

With reactions like that, Hyunjin’s dick is well inside of you without any further ado. Boyfriend moaning, pussy open. While you’re enjoying the feel of being completely full with him, and imagine how deep his spit is being thrust inside you — oh god, yes — Hyunjin seems to have his own imaginations. The blindfold was both a good and a bad idea. He can’t anticipate your next move, but he also seems to feel you sliding him in twice as much. 

“Are you thinking I’m some kind of succubus, huh.”

You tease, wiggle your hips. Causing one loud fucking moan.

“It feels that way, ah!”

“Are you gonna scream your lungs out when I start moving, hm?“

“I can’t control it!”

“Let’s see then.”

You lean back into the kiss, bent forward just enough to change the way his dick is aligned inside of you all over again. A little bounce and the position is perfect.

“Wow, look. This is a good angle. It just goes right in.”

“Hn—!”

It’s amazing how he reacts at your mercy. Your kisses stifle the moans, but they also make him more on edge because he wants to let it out. Congrats, you’ve found the officially best way to torture him. 

“So. How about doing this.”

You raise your hips. It takes quite some effort to pull him out that far because he’s so girthy. It’s literally pulling at your walls as if they don’t wanna let him go. You do it slowly, terribly slow, every millimeter has your pussy lips deliciously tracing another facet of him. Moving up means cleaning some more saliva off his shaft. It all goes inside you. God bless his runny mouth while he was eating you out. 

Only Hyunjin’s tip remains inside of you. The air hitting what was previously buried inside you makes for a surefire way to make him break the kiss and bite his lips. 

“My cock! My, ah, my!”

His hands are all wobbly above his head. As are his legs behind you. 

“How are we taking it down there.”

“If you do that hip thing again, I can’t guarantee anything!“

So that’s what makes his heart beat faster.

“I’d be damn cruel making you cum so early, darling. Sooner or later I’ll milk all your semen anyway.“

Well, succubus indeed.

“I’ll just blow up, I can’t!“

“You’re lucky I won’t be riding you full-speed or something. You’re just too big for that. But what if I do the hip thing and you can’t cum?”

“Oh fuck!“

For good measure, you nuzzle him generously, and yes, do the thing. The agony in his expression is not even the full effect of what you’ve done. Hyunjin is screaming out loud. 

“And that was with a warning. I’ll do it again and if you can stand it, you get some pussy in your face. Wanna get treated?”

“Please, please treat me!”

“But first...”

To add some extra spice, you push down to his base all over again. Hyunjin arches, his teeth are almost sewn shut from the pressure of his tight jaw. Once he’s balls deep, you flick your hip just a little. A loud moan simmers into a little mewl, the jaw unclenches, his tongue starts lapping out. You’ve truly shut off his brain right now.

“Very well done.”

Pulling out works faster now, but you notice how it’s not as slippery anymore. A lot of Hyunjin’s spit has gathered around the lower third of his dick. It’s a nice sight to have it drip on his terribly swollen balls that are probably going through a whole bunch of things right now. 

“Good thing you get something to slurp on. We need more spit. Use your mouth!”

Hyunjin’s cock being untouched right now seems to take the edge off, but his mouth, holy shit. His mouth is on an eager spree to wet you up all over. On top of your own lubrication, Hyunjin provides another ridiculous amount of leakage all over your clit and folds. It’s running all over his face. 

The blindfold gets soaked as does his nose. A frantically moaning Hyunjin doesn’t seem to stop slurping and pushing out spit, you swear he’s gonna fucking drown. That method. It’s completely chaotic just like his fingering. You weren’t wrong, then. He might die then, but at least you’re able to remove the blindfold, wearing that is too gross. Hyunjin is excitedly blinking at you through his own spit like the sun is blinding him but he doesn’t mind.

“Mnm—nh!”

“I love you. Amazing. Look at this. You’re so nasty. Come, let’s do this again. Hope that cock can push all that into me. It’s too good to waste.“

You get back to squatting on his dick, admittedly a little wobbly on the mattress now. Hyunjin’s satanic ritual tongue does not go without a notice. Nor does the way you slide back down on him, and back up.

“Oh woah!”

A clean thrust. Your pussy is dripping so much on him, a little stream glosses over the thread of veins on the underside. Before it reaches down and disappears between his thighs, you make sure to collect it with another thrust. Hyunjin stares just right at his cock disappearing in you, framed by your labia stretching out. His jaw is completely dropped.

“Yes, that’s how we’re looking like. You have a great cock. Listen to that sound.”

Smooth gliding and a wet little smack when you touch down.

“It’s, it’s amazing... It feels so warm and creamy.”

“Watch. I’ll be stirring your spit all inside me.“

Slowly, carefully, you ride him again, this time connecting several thrusts. Hyunjin looks adorable with his wide eyes and sweaty face. 

“Yes! Oh yes, oh.... That feels so good.”

“Nothing wasted. You’re doing really well. You’re good at this.“

You lean in for a deep kiss. Only after you tongue him down do you realize just how much he’s ruined his mouth. It’s so sticky and wet, and his lips are so exhausted. They’ve been swelling up more than you thought they would, he’s really put them to the test like a champ. Well, they’ve lost their virginity, too. The kiss ends with two wet mouths parting by a thread.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Yes. I really love it. Thank you, Hyunjin. Can I finish off first? I wanna use my hands to make you cum.“

“You’re the best,“ he becomes flustered, and watches in awe just how you reposition yourself all over again, pointing his cock at his belly flat this time. It’s perfect to just grind right above it. A bit of fluid leaking from your pussy mixed with lube and spit makes for the best slippery help to get your clit some intense stimulation from gliding squarely across Hyunjin’s bit vein. 

“Fucking hell, babe. That’s a wonder dick.”

How he throbs and pulsates is the last push it needs to get close. You loosen the tie of Hyunjin’s ribbon and his hands dart around you, hold you, and he winds his hips to give you more of the friction. 

But this time, he’s moving faster, and your orgasm arrives quicker than you count from 30, not even that. You get messy on his balls and base, and Hyunjin almost loses it from having you grind on him. That he’s been holding it in until now is a miracle. His hair is nothing but sweaty streaks right now.

As soon as the waves of pleasure become smaller and you can think again, both your and his hand come wrapping around his shaft. No problem moving your palms around, he’s covered in all that honey. Plus there’s more space, he could fit three palms. It feels so intimate doing it together and being in sync. Hyunjin’s broken moans and whines are well accompanied by more hip bucks and a quicker pace. Your two hands squeezing up and down makes Hyunjin start to beg to you.

“Please use the other hand, please, please choke me through this!“

You go for a lighter grip, hell, he hasn’t done this before, but Hyunjin isn’t having it. The protest is all loud and clear.

“Squeeze my throat! Please, harder, do it hard, please!”

You press down at either side of his neck, and make sure to translate that onto his cock as well, still jerking him off. You don’t let go until he’s cumming. 

A thick white spurt empties between the intertwine of your fingers. Hyunjin squeals out loud, catching air, almost crying. Another load has him all shaky, growling, and rubbing his own hand around yours to push out even the last bits of sperm. Surprise, there’s more cum leaking out.

“Oh, what to do with all that big dick.”

“It’s, it’s so much!“

“Come here with that milk.“

You lower your face on him and let the last clear bits come up against your puckered lips. They spread his cum all over the tip, kiss it, catch new threads, swirl them around while your hands are pumping the lower half, all the meaty girth. Never missing an opportunity for torture. Hyunjin is screaming and suffering all over again. His semen has been oozing all over your hands. 

“Clean it, babe. We’ll lay down in a minute. That’s an amazing icing.”

Hyunjin’s tongue has a last job and it does it well. Your fingers are super clean and well-kissed, his lips are so glorious. You’re both dizzy, but you at least manage to towel down. Because his face is a mess, your lips are dripping, your pussy is a swimming pool of spit, and that ruined dick has seen some things today, oh yeah it did. What better way to leave its virginity inside of you all slicked up and sloppy. 

Hyunjin starts freezing very fast by now, and you get a weighted blanket, with you on top of him, in a sweater, just because. Sharing heat is caring heat. You love cuddles after sex.

“Say something cute and nasty,” he pouts, and you think of a good way to summarize the evening. 

“I mean look at you. You’re officially a slut now. My slut,” you pinch his nose. “If you want. Let’s have some fun like that tomorrow again. I can’t wait, you know. That’s a really loud boy I got myself.“

“Oh yes, tomorrow!”

“I might be blowing you for more of that icing. It was really nice and sugary.“

“I eat lots of fruit!”

Now that’s a keeper.

“And I gotta say, shit...“

“You came really hard on my dick, right.”

Hyunjin makes an innocent face saying that, but you know very well how he’s been taking you in, he’s learning.

“Yeah.“

“That was that sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He smiles a little, exhausted, but flustered. 

“Lot more to come. That’s only the first time for you.”

“I’ve been thinking that as well. Say it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen until tomorrow.“

“Exactly right. That’s the idea,” you kiss his neck now, breathing in the afterglow. “And, by the way. Um. I hope I removed the ribbons at the right timing.“

“It was in the right moment!“

“Should we try more like that next time?”

“I like it.“

“Me too. You look perfect tied up.”

The blindfold did the trick, you know it. Hyunjin has hardly reacted to your touch like that when cuddling. Although, that’s hard to compare, is it.

“And... You really could have choked me a little harder by the way.“

Hyunjin knows just how to mimic you. Another nose pinch for you, young man.

“We didn’t plan it so I thought I’d go easy on you. But if you like it. You want it rougher, don’t ya. You just wanna fucking scream.“

“I’ll admit it,” he nuzzles his face into your sweater. “I’m just very loud...”

“We’ll see what kind of ideas I’ll come up with to get you even louder. Deal?”

“Favorite deal.“

FINAL NOTE. thank you for reading - caro 🐅

© 2017-2021 submissive-bangtan. all rights reserved. no reposts allowed.

[heyhihellowhatsup0]

Hooked On Your Feelings - Chapter Two (FWB! Tom Holland x Reader)

SERIES MASTERLIST

Warnings: Some angst, language, eventual smut in future chapters, fluff

Word Count: 5255

Summary: After a bad breakup, making an agreement with your womanizing neighbor, Tom to be friends with added benefits and no strings attached seemed like the perfect idea. Until things become messy, emotions caused your agreement to crumble.

A/N:  I am HYPE to post this new chapter! Omg I just love writing this series so much its so fun writing Tom like this lol. Also low key...this chapter has an easter egg to a pervious series of mine and I’m v curious if anyone catches it but probably not because its superrr tiny but either way I hope you guys like this one! Obviously, smut is in this chapter! DM me to be tagged and I cannot wait to hear everyone’s thoughts! (Also .gif is not mine. DM me for credit please, I found on google!) Thank you xx -N

“What happened to that girl you took home the other night from The Lace Rabbit?” Harrison asked as he ordered his lunch before he took a seat at the table with Tom. It was typical for them to meet up during the week on their lunch breaks and catch up when they were not busy being wingmen for the other while bar hopping on the weekends. 

Tom shrugged off Harrison’s question as he took a bite of his sandwich, “She got a little clingy so I had Y/N help me get rid of her,” he smiled as he said your name out loud. His friends knew of you as the hot girl who lived next door who bailed him out of sticky situations. Always teasing Tom how he could never actually get you. The irony made it all too funny for him, “How’d it go with that blonde girl?” he asked to change the subject off of him.

He didn’t know if he should bring up the two of you sleeping together with Harrison. Harrison was his best friend and wouldn’t judge but he knew he’d give Tom shit for it. He’d want to know details of your arrangement or how it came about, if you were really that good and Tom didn’t feel comfortable answering that. Not if it was about you. He didn’t want his other friends knowing about you in the way he did. That was personal between you both and he wanted to show you he respected you.

“It didn’t,” Harrison admitted while taking a sip of his water. He let out a chuckle as he felt himself blushing, “Forgot her name and she spilt her drink on me. Can’t say I didn’t deserve that one,” he at least knew when he was in the wrong.

Tom cringed into his sandwich as he let out a cackle, “You definitely deserved it, mate,” he laughed with another bite. His phone vibrated in his pocket but he chose to ignore it, knowing like clock work what it probably was. It was going to ruin the rest of his day and he at least wanted to enjoy lunch with his friend before getting pissed off for the day.

“She’d probably love you,” Harrison teased. 

“Fuck off,” Tom rolled his eyes with a laugh. “I’m not taking your angry seconds.”

“Don’t knock angry sex til you try it,” Harrison smirked knowingly. 

Tom shook his head as he once again ignored the phone ringing, “I think I’m good, thanks,” he brushed it off with another eyeroll. 

He didn’t know why he suddenly felt weird talking about their last venture out at the club. Maybe it was because Tom knew where he ended up after that girl had left and he knew what that meant for the both of you. But Tom wasn’t done with his bachelor days, and even you knew that. Hell, you practically insisted since this was a no strings attached deal.

It just felt strange not telling Harrison about you. Like it was a weird secret. But at the same time, he felt oddly protective of you. Not wanting his friends to see you as some girl he was getting laid with. Or worse, a potential love interest. He knew it wasn’t going to happen. Hell would be freezing over before Tom decided on any sort of long term obligation. But he knew his friends and he knew they wouldn’t see this is a simple agreement between two friends. And he didn’t want to deal with that conversation.

Staying quiet was the better option. For his own sanity. And...well, would you care if he told anyone about this? Tom figured that was another rule he’d have to ask about. He didn’t want to overstep any boundaries and he knew you had a list of rules as well that he was happy to follow. As long as that meant one thing and one thing only: non-exclusive.

Harrison noticed Tom’s phone buzzing for the third time. And Tom ignored it for the third time. He checked the message with a huff of his breath before turning the screen face down on the table, going back to his lunch before he had to get back to work.

“Clingy girl?” Harrison nodded towards Tom’s phone. 

Tom shook his head, “My mother was supposed to visit this weekend but you know the routine,” he mumbled into his food, not even wanting to respond to her.

“Let me guess,” Harrison began, knowing exactly where this was going since he knew Tom’s whole story inside and out. Including the bits he hated to discuss which was mainly his family, “Going skiing with Clint in Veil instead?” he questioned knowingly.

Tom scoffed out a laugh at his guess, “Surfing with Clint in Malibu but same shit,” he corrected as he tried not to let it get to him. But even Harrison could tell he was getting bothered by it once again and who could honestly blame him.

 Always the same story every time no matter what and Tom grew tired of her antics. He couldn’t even blame Clint for it anymore considering she’d been this way since he was a kid before he was even in the picture. Only now she would just use him as the perfect excuse to get out of coming to visit.

He knew he shouldn’t care anymore but he couldn’t help it. It wasn’t something easy for him to simply let go of. It was his mother. And no matter how many times he’d try she would always give him back the bare minimum and it always made him upset. She was his one final connection to him and she could care less about any of it, so why did Tom? It always got under his skin and he loathed that it did.

But he would still invite her. No matter how miserable it made him.

“Well at least now you’re free this weekend,” Harrison broke his thought while he gathered their garbage before they headed back to work, “The usual at The Lace Rabbit this Saturday then?” he suggested with a knowing smile to try and get Tom out of his mood.

Grabbing his phone, Tom clutched it tightly as he inhaled sharply. Knowing his change of plans meant doing his normal routine even though he was looking forward to the slight change this weekend, which now just seemed bleak to him

.

“Yeah,” Tom agreed as he tapped your name on his phone but hesitated when he saw his mother trying to call for a fourth time, “The usual this weekend.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your chest tensed as you got into your car after your extremely long day in the office. Everything around you felt heavy and you couldn’t wait to get home as soon as you could but you found yourself still frozen in your car. Unable to move as the moments from earlier this afternoon invaded your thoughts once again while you tried your best to move in. Even though you knew you were completely grief stricken and didn’t know what the hell to do.

The promotion was yours, at least you had thought it was by the way your boss would constantly hint at it. You knew it was never a definite thing, but you were confident in the hard work you had put into your job and knew you were a top contender for the spot. You worked longer hours, took on extra tasks, you even worked on the occasional weekend to get your work done. Taking every precaution necessary to prove that you were the best fit for the role.

Everything felt like it was lining up for you. Co-workers were giving you a pat on the back for your work accomplishments, your boss was taking note of everything you were doing, and you overall felt really good about where you stood for the potential position. So imagine your surprise when you attended the big luncheon and your boss announced his undeserving son was getting the spot instead of you.

It was both nepotism and misogyny rolled into one and it made your stomach turn the longer you had thought about it. None of it made any sense and it was far from fair. You knew you were the one more deserving of the position, the whole office knew it. Even your damn boss knew but he chose his damn son over you and it felt like a stab right to your gut.

You felt so betrayed and beside yourself as you finally decided to head home. Tears streamed down your cheeks while you tried to focus on the road but you just couldn’t ignore the facts. How were you going to be able to show up and take orders now from your boss’ son? You knew the job more than he did and it felt like a huge screw you.

On your drive home, you tried to make yourself feel better by putting on some music to distract yourself but nothing helped. You felt beyond defeated and frustrated right now you didn’t know what was going to make you feel better at the moment. It felt like the world was against you. Between finding Justin with another woman and your job, you were really batting one thousand lately and you weren’t sure when you would catch a break.

Things were not going how you planned at all. The thought of just quitting your job and starting all over again crossed your mind but the fear of the unknown kept haunting you. You didn’t know which direction to go in or who to turn to for advice anymore. You were slowly drowning and you needed someone to throw you a goddamn life jacket already.

You were relieved to finally be home. Maybe some peace and quiet would make you feel a little better, you thought to yourself while you kicked your shoes off and turned some music on for yourself. Trying to put the day behind you and focus on the present moment while you got changed into more comfortable clothes to unwind.

You jumped out of your skin when you heard a knock at your door, not expecting anybody to come by right now. Pulling your hair up into a bun, you headed back towards the door and looked through the peephole. To your surprise, you weren’t really surprised at all. You were actually sort of relieved when you opened the door and saw Tom standing there holding a pizza box.

“That better have extra cheese,” you asked with a narrowed expression while you invited him inside with the pizza that he would always bring you even in normal times. 

Placing the box on the kitchen table, Tom opened it with a grin as he showed you the pizza pie with cheese practically oozing from the crusts, “Figured it was an extra toppings sort of day,” he admitted, knowing he really needed the escape from reality. Even if it was just a pizza.

“Tell me about it,” you sighed as you grabbed a piece closest to you as Tom handed you a paper plate. You headed over towards your refrigerator to grab you both a few beers while Tom leaned up against your kitchen counter as he devoured his slice, “I’m guessing you had a bad day judging by your pizza presentation?” knowing there wasn’t really any particular reason he’d be coming over with it today. Unless if he wanted something?

You slowed your pace back from the fridge wondering if he was going to pick up on how you were feeling. You weren’t entirely sure if you wanted him to notice. Whenever you and Tom had a pizza night it was merely to gossip about your lunatic neighbors or watch a game together. You talked about casual things but never really gone into depth or prying into each other’s lives. Why did it feel like suddenly you wanted something different? Would sex change that much in your friendship?

“We can just ignore that...we don’t have to talk about unimportant stuff,” you waved it off. Tom didn’t need to hear about your miserable day. And you didn’t want to pry into his. 

He swallowed the last bite of his slice, “If something makes you upset, it’s not unimportant,” he noted. But when he noticed you just looking at him, he raised his hands in surrender. “Ignore my philosophical ass. But I’d like to hear about your day, you know,” he laughed it off. 

What the hell was he doing? He thought to himself. Don’t let personal shit ruin this. Enjoy her company. That’s it. 

“I didn’t get the promotion,” you told him. You had mentioned to Tom a while ago that your boss was hinting at it but you never went into detail with him about it. You weren’t used to Tom actually wanting to be open or the other way around. And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t slightly surprised Tom even gave a crap about stuff like this. 

Tom frowned at your answer and he felt his heart sink a bit when you told him the truth about your bad day. He didn’t know much about your job but he was sure you were a hard worker. He saw how much you loved your job and how passionate you were about it when it would come up. You would share upcoming projects with him from time to time and he would see the look on your face whenever you explained them to him. So hearing that you were passed by for a promotion was upsetting to him.

“I...shit, Y/N,” he put his pizza down as he walked over towards to give you a hug. Sliding his hands around your waist he pulled you into him as he felt you relax against his chest, “You didn’t deserve that,” he added softly.

You allowed Tom to embrace you, his warmness comforting you a bit before you pulled away and started crying when telling him about your boss’ son getting the job instead of you. Making you laugh by calling him every name in the book, you and Tom finally found a common ground as you kept venting to him.

Tom pulled away slowly, his hand resting at your chin while he licked his lips, “You’re boss sounds like a fucking prick, I hope you know that,” he told you reassuringly. The small smile you formed when he spoke made him want to keep making you feel better, “I’m glad you’re smiling,” he blushed at his confession.

Stretching your mouth wider, you flashed Tom a playful yet overly wide grin to deflect the attention he gave to you. The two of you laughed as Tom pulled away with a loud chuckle, shaking his head at your sudden silliness, “That has to be the most hideous smile. But we’ll work on it,” he told you through his laughter.

You rolled your eyes before going back to your pizza, giving Tom a look as you nudged him, “Not gonna tell me about what happened to you?” you finally asked.

Tom tensed as he tried to brush it off with a simple shrug into his pizza. The thought of his mother’s texts and ridiculous apologies and excuses continued to drive him crazy as he mumbled into his bite, “It’s stupid shit,” he told you as he swallowed the crust he was chewing, “Mom stuff, not important,” he added bluntly.

You could see the look on his face and could tell it was important to him but you didn’t want to force him to talk about it. Tom was never one to bring up his family ever to you and that was the first time you had ever heard him even mention his mother. He never spoke of his father, at least to you, so you just assumed both were out of his life for whatever reason and it was none of your business to ask.

 And Tom refused to admit it but he wanted you to ask about him. Spending hours upon hours at bars, turning his focus always onto the girl; because he knew no girl would ever want to go home with a self righteous, egotistical guy. It was never something Tom minded to do, especially with complete strangers who he would never open up to in a million years. It might have been the recent development he had with you but there was something refreshing he felt around you and as much as it freaked him out, he didn’t seem to mind.

But diving into his mommy issues with you now seemed too much to deal with right now. You were dealing with more than enough problems with your job and your miserable ex-boyfriend, he figured you didn’t need to hear his bitching right now anyway. He came here to get away from those shitty thoughts, not open those wounds further. 

Tom came here for a distraction.

Licking his lips, Tom perked up as he looked at you fervidly, “Wanna have sex?” he asked matter of factly. He figured he didn’t need to beat around the bush since you had your arrangement but maybe he was a bit too direct with his request. Tom cleared his throat as he tried to save the night, “I-I mean, I just figured since we both had shitty days that maybe we could uhm-”

“Thought you’d never ask,” you cut him off with a smirk and you perked up as well, nodding as you smoothed out your hair. Standing back up as you turned your back towards him, removing your shirt in the process, “Let’s go,” you called over your shoulder as you headed towards your room.

“Oh, we’re jumping right in,” Tom mumbled to himself as he practically fell off his chair to follow you into your room, tossing his shirt beside yours as he practically froze already seeing you completely undressed, “Christ…” he breathed out while taking you in. 

You rolled your eyes as you walked over to him, bringing your lips to his now bare shoulder, “You’re really acting like you haven’t seen me like this the other day?” You laughed against his skin while you began to suck a bruise against him, hearing him let out a gasp while your hand snaked into his pants sneakily, “Beginning to really like this whole friends with benefits thing we have,” you laughed as you found Tom’s lips.

Practically growling into your kiss, Tom lifted you up and lowered you onto your back on your bed. His lips traveled from yours, to your stomach, dipping his tongue into your belly button as you moaned quietly before he brought himself down between your thighs. His lips peppering your inner thigh before he got straight to the point because this whole arrangement meant no foreplay. Another plus for Tom.

“Darling, I think you may be the best friend I’ve ever had,” Tom breathed out a laugh as he pressed his tongue flatly against your clit. Sliding two of his fingers into your core while he slowly pumped in and out of you, “This is what got me through my day today,” he told you before he brought his mouth back to your core.

You arched your back while your fingers went towards Tom’s curls. His name began to fall from your lips while he lapped his tongue carefully, letting it slip inside of you as he continued to tease you with his mouth. His fingers sliding into you again, adding a third as he moaned against your center; allowing the vibrations to roll throughout your entire body.

“Mmm, oh, fuck...!” you cried out, yanking gently against Tom’s hair as you felt the coil beginning to burn from inside of you. Biting your lip to stifle another moan, “Fuck...yo-you’re really good at that,” you breathed out with a small laugh which turned into a whimper.

With his head peering up at you, Tom flashed you a cocky smile with a playful wink as he licked your folds teasingly, “Did you seriously doubt my abilities to make you cum with my mouth, Y/N?” he raised his eyebrow while pumping his fingers now tantalizingly slow, “You’re gonna pay for that comment,” he said to you.

“Just...shut up and make me cum, Tom,” you told him through another gasp as you felt his teeth drag teasingly against your already throbbing bud. His lips wrapped around it as he sucked more harshly, doing exactly as you had asked him to do, “Ungh...oh god, okay. Yeah, keep doing that,” you instructed as you began to grind your hips against his mouth.

Tom took it as a challenge and picked up his pace, beginning to flick your clit faster while he continuously sucked on it. His three fingers now entirely coated in your warmth as he felt you clenching around them. His pants feeling tighter from his hard on while he knelt at the end of your bed trying to bring you to where he wanted.

His free hand splayed against your stomach, holding you in place while he felt you trying to squirm around from the way he was making you feel. Rubbing your clit in between his breaths, Tom looked up at you as he licked a solid stripe down your center, “Let out how you’re feeling from today and cum for me, Y/N,” Tom commanded. 

Your eyes shut as you did exactly what Tom had suggested. Completely coming undone from beneath him while you released as much of the tension from earlier as you possibly could but in the most amazing way. Your eyes rolled back into your head while your back arched as Tom’s tongue continued to work you up while you were at your highest point.

Letting out a breathy laugh as you started to come down from it, feeling Tom begin to kiss his way back up your stomach with a smug look, “Don’t give me that look,” you rolled your eyes at his cockiness as his tongue traced along your neck, “I could do what you just did to myself, you know,” you tried to knock him off his high horse a bit while he pretended to be wounded from your words.

“Ah, but you didn’t. Did you?” Tom reminded you as his lips found yours. His hands still in between your thighs as he brought them between you both, showing you his coated fingers while he tasted you off of them, “Tastes like I made you cum because you wanted me to,” his smugness only elevated as he pushed himself off of you as he laid on his back on your bed.

“Need I remind you that you came to my place like a porno with a pizza looking to get laid,” you retaliated as you shifted so you were now hovering over him. Your hands guiding towards his belt buckle to get him out of his restraintive pants. The pleading look on his face made you just as smug, “Sounds like you want me to do just about the same thing, am I right or am I right?” you sang in his ear.

Tom helped you get the rest of his pants and boxers off, feeling himself spring out as he stared back at you with uncertainty, “Did you...just call me a porn star?” he questioned as the two of you let out a laugh.

“You wish, Tommy,” you teased as you ran your tongue down his abs, placing small and open kisses against his stomach as you made your way down to his legs while your hand carefully gripped his hardened length, your thumb running the pre-cum around his tip while you already heard him gasping for you.

Gripping your bedsheets with one hand, Tom reached around to create a makeshift ponytail to hold your hair. Cussing under his breath as he watched your mouth wrap around his tip, swirling your tongue around it while your eyes searched for his. He was really trying to hold it together but you were already driving him crazy.

“Let’s see what you got, Y/N,” Tom challenged you with a heavy breath as he tightened his grip around your hair, “Sometimes, girls think they know exactly what to do but-OH FUCK!” 

His words were lost as soon as your mouth went straight down to his base. Suctioning as hard as you could before coming back up his cock painfully slow. Moaning your name as his chest began to heave, Tom felt his thighs start to quiver from under you. Even just watching the way you were working on him was enough to make him whimper right now.

“Fuck...okay, yeah I take that back,” Tom gasped as his nose crinkled up while his other hand white knuckled the sheets, “God, your mouth is fucking perfect. Why haven’t we done any of this shit before?” he was in such a fucked out haze, he wasn’t even sure if anything he was saying made any sense at all. But he felt his stress from earlier going away finally. Even if this was just a short state of bliss, he was grateful for it anyway.

“You really want me to answer that or would you just prefer me to keep sucking your dick?” you sassed while you kitten licked his tip. You watched from the end of the bed as Tom bucked his hips into your mouth to try and get more contact from your lips but you pulled away from him and just kept licking his tip.

God, you were good, Tom thought to himself.

‘K-keep going,” Tom finally breathed out, flinging his head against the pillow to brace for the impact.

Hollowing your cheeks, you pushed yourself all the way down his cock. Your tongue flicking the base in between as you began to feel him throb inside of your mouth. You could tell he was close so you moaned softly into his cock, watching as Tom shuddered from the sensation you just sent through him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Tom cried out, moaning your name as he rutted his hips into your mouth. His pupils blacked as he felt the heat rising in his body, “Shit...I’m gonna cum, Y/N,” he warned as you pulled away, running your hand down his shaft as he began to come undone for you.

His warmth spilled out into your hand and down his cock while he let go finally. The stress somewhat leaving his body as it did yours while the euphoric high peaked for him. Your lips crashed against his while his tongue parted your lips to find yours, tangling them together as he moaned against your mouth while riding out his high finally.

You waited for Tom to catch his breath before you smiled against his lips, placing a small peck against them as you pulled away with an even bigger grin, “Yeah, you’re welcome,” you gave him the same arrogant tone he gave to you moments earlier before you pecked his lips again.

After taking some time to get yourselves together mixed with the continuous fooling around underneath the sheets, you and Tom finally decided to get up and end the night. Even though he didn’t want to leave, he knew he probably shouldn’t overstay. Primarily, Tom was adamant about never spending the night at a girl’s place that he slept with. That made things complicated and he didn’t want complicated. But since you and him had rules to not make things messy, he wasn’t sure if that applied to you. For now, he wanted to play it safe so he got himself dressed again.

You pulled on an oversized t-shirt, realizing both of your hair looked a mess. Luckily you were already home and Tom was down the hall so it didn’t really matter. You wanted to say something to Tom, that you were thankful he came by tonight. You were thankful even before sex was on the table. It felt nice to have him as an ally to swing by with a pizza when he didn’t even know you needed that.

“...is it weird to say I’m glad you came by?” you gestured towards your bedroom while you walked with him out into the kitchen where the half eaten pizza was left, “I know we haven’t really made too many rules about it but…” you trailed off with a nervous laugh as you smiled at him awkwardly.

“Like we said, zero weirdness,” Tom reminded you as he padded his way over to you. He grabbed a leftover crust from the box and shoved it in his mouth, clearly starving already from the workout you had just given him. He smiled while he chewed lazily, his mouth still filled with pizza crumbs, “But I’m happy to come by when we have shit days...and make you cum as well,” he smirked deviously. 

The door opened as you smiled back, “Doesn’t have to be just bad days, you know. We could...screw whenever we feel like it,” you told him, hoping that it wasn’t too much.

“Did you just say screw?” he whipped his head towards you with a loud laugh.

“Alright then, I guess I’ll just leave you to the girls who leave you unsatisfied then,” you fought back.

Tom leaned against the door with his mouth gaped open, “They do not...leave me...unsatisfied?” he questioned himself, knowing that that was true, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

“Then why are you here?” you placed a hand on your hip, feeling the smile pulling at your lips while you messed around with him. You certainly weren’t in this mood earlier before Tom came around.

Pressing his lips together, Tom rolled his eye at you, “Fine...we can screw...whenever,” he leaned in closer to you with his eyes big as he mimicked your voice when you said it, “As long as we keep this thing strictly what we intended, you can use me whenever you need, Y/N,” and he meant it.

You didn’t back away when he sealed his words with a soft kiss, paired with his trademark grin. Tom pulled away slowly, taking in the moment as he wished you a goodnight quietly before kissing you against the cheek, “Like I said, best friend I ever had,” he said softly once again.

“Am I interrupting something?” A voice broke from behind the two of you. Both of your eyes widened towards each other as you both simultaneously pivoted your heads towards the staircase where the voice was coming from.

Tom closed his eyes with a groan, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to ignore Harrison staring at the two of you with a crooked grin. Making it known to Tom that explaining this was going to be a lot tougher than he had imagined.

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[roscgcld]

HEADCANONS + GOJO SATOR || chubby s/o

request: can you please do jjk character reaction to you gaining weight? i feel so insecure about it and it would be good to read something like that.. i love ur headcanons :-)

hey again! it's me with the gaining weight request :( i forgot to say that i want gojo's reaction to it :( his reaction to you being insecure of gaining weight and trying to lose it. thank u in advance ily :]

note: excuse me *bops you on the head* you cannot be insecure about something as small as weight. you’re beautiful 😠😠 and if anyone else says otherwise i will start swinging. who doesn’t like a little fluff to hold onto when they cuddle???? you’re perfect, and a little extra weight is not that bad! and i am happy that you like my headcanons love - makes me super happy to hear it from time to time >< i love you and send you positive vibes uwu ~

pronouns: she/her - because it came naturally, but i still love my non-binary readers i send you love and kisses and an apology >< 

because of your boyfriend’s wicked good looks and his naturally flirty personality, it is no surprise that he is surrounded by a lot of equally beautiful people in your eyes

and even though he entertains them with no more than a charming smile and a few nice comments, that doesn’t make you any less insecure about something as small as your weight 

also adding into your insecurities is his title as a gojo - the strongest sorcerer of the generation, and the next in line to become the head of the gojo clan. his elders are expecting him to marry young and start popping out kids

the women that his elders had sent to him as ‘suitors’ did not help too - they were all what you viewed as the epidemy of a perfect woman. pretty face, amazing body, and a soft spoken and gentle personality; acting and looking almost too fake and doll-like

gojo usually turns them away by giving them some half ass excuse about why he can’t date them, slamming the door in their faces after he pulls you towards him to press a passionate kiss to your lips; hand obviously resting on your ass

and even though that makes you super embarrassed, you just giggle softly against his lips at the offended gasp coming from the door; to which gojo will grin lightly into the kiss before deepening it quite excitely

but that never shuts your demons away - and one day you just found yourself looking yourself over the full length mirror hanging in your shared closet; a frown marring your features

you had always pride yourself on keeping in somewhat shape, but with the constantly on the go lifestyle you live, and the stress that had started to mountain at work; it is natural for you to have gained a little

and recently, as if your mind had decided to spite you, you had realised that gojo is surrounded with more and more people around him - beautiful people around him, to be exact

whether they are fellow super fit sorcerers, another random suitor knocking at the door of your shared apartment, or even just random strangers on the street - you have started to realise that gojo just naturally attracts attractive people like that into his life

people who would look amazing together with him. someone who isn’t you

you were so consumed with your thoughts that you had not heard gojo, who came out from the shower with wet hair and a pair of fitted briefs, looking around your empty bedroom in confusion

tossing the towel he was using to dry up into the laundry basket, he had peeked into the closet of your shared room curiously; only to see you dressed in nothing but a cute white bra and a matching set of underwear

he was about to tease you about it, playfully asking if you ‘trying to make us late for our lunch with the others’ when he noticed the frown on your face as you scanned yourself over; hands resting on your stomach 

wordlessly gojo made his way towards you, your eyes snapping towards his huge frame appearing in the mirror as his arms wrapped themselves around you immediately; bright blue eyes blinking at you from the mirror whilst he rests his chin on your shoulder

“what’s wrong, bunny? you have a frown on your face, and you know that i hate it when you’re frowning~”

at first you felt embarrass to admit what was plaguing your mind, knowing that he was going to tease you about being so insecure about something like this - but gojo is stubborn 

he is going to coax it out of you one way or another, so you better fess up with whatever it is that is bothering you

it took some time for him to coax the question out of you, but eventually you gave in; awkwardly meeting his eyes through the mirror as he raises an eyebrow at you; silently coaxing for you to tell him

“I just...i’ve wanted to ask you for awhile now....am i fat?”

your question actually had gojo freeze as he made the most confused face ever, hand cupping up to gently squish your face between his fingers as he pulled away a little

“who said that? am i going to have to kill someone?” gojo asks too casually, to which you widen your eyes before you wrapped your hands around the wrist holding your face, shaking your head

“n-no! not at all!” you tried to calm him down as he turns your body to face him, an even more confused look appearing on his face - and you know that it’s genuine since he looked like a confused child 

this just made things worse for you as you rubbed your warm cheeks, looking away from his all searching eyes. “i-it’s just...i feel like i’ve gained some...and you’re always around really good looking people...women..”

gojo was genuinely confused as he frowns, to which you just gave him an asperated face. yet before you can say anything he made a noise of confusion; arms wrapped around your waist loosely. “is it bad that i didn’t even notice?”

whatever you wanted to say dried up on your tongue as gojo looks over at you and gave you a soft but genuine smile, hands reaching over to cup your cheeks in his hands

“i didn’t date you because of something so artificial, bunny.” he hummed as he playfully squished your cheeks together. “to be honest, i didn’t notice about that until you brought it up.”

you made a face at him, as if silently asking if he was being serious as he pulled a face on you as well. “i am being serious here, bunny. i really didn’t notice at all.” 

he just pulls you into his chest and hold you close, smushing your face into his firm chest as he coos at you. “you should know better then to think that i care about things as fickled as weight~ i’m dating you because you can make really good onigiri.”

“so you are dating me for my cooking?!” you gasped at him dramatically as you pulled your face away to glare at him, to which he just grinned before he leans forward to press kisses all over your face; your annoyance melting away immediately

after that it sort of just been left forgotten - but gojo never forgot. He can never forget something like that

even before you told him, he could tell that something was bothering you for some time now; but he wanted to wait for you to tell him yourself

and like he said, he really truly did not realise it until you pointed it out; he had never really care about things like physical appearance. since at the end of the day, he only cares about your chemistry together

i think that gojo, even though he is very vain, does not necessarily care about looks when he dates. for him, he wants someone who can handle all sides of him instead of being with him him for face value 

so that is all he cares about - and you were perfect for him. so do forgive him for not giving two shits about something as small as appearance lol

yet he knew that you were still thinking about it - so he went out of his way to make sure that you’re not going to do something that might bring you more harm

when he realises you are eating smaller portions, he might whine and pout at you with puppy eyes; demanding for you to take a few more bites of your food

and no one can really say no to him whenever he shines his beautiful eyes at them; so he always end up getting his way

he always make sure to get the food you like and stock up on the snacks you enjoy to eat; and heck, he will even go out of his way to visit you during your lunch break at work to bring you out on lunch dates whenever he can

he’ll even become more touchy; even more so than he was before. but now he made sure to keep his touches at places where you are the most self conscious about

grabbing your thighs when you two seat together, resting his hands on your love handles whenever he wraps his arms around your waist, resting on your stomach whenever you two cuddle together

he’s always shown his affection through physical touches, since mans will end up insulting you by accident because of his inability to read the room - he might make a very unsavory joke that makes you want to hit him over the head

but he does really care for you, and always goes out of his way to make sure that you’re more than aware that he does care for you; even if it means feeding you food in the middle of a restaurant if you refuse to eat more

when you confront him about it, he just gave you a soft but genuine smile before he rests his hands on your shoulders to shake you gently; as if he is shaking you back into reality

“i just know you well, bunny. and i know that you’re going to try and loose weight because you think that’s what i want.” he sighs dramatically before he tossed his arms around you, pulling you into him with a pout. “but you should know better than to think that i am going to leave you because of your weight.” 

his words caused you to pause as he pulls away a little to press a soft kiss on your forehead, soft lips resting against your hairline for a few more moments as he tightened his arms around you

“plus, i see it as a bonus honestly. more places to mark and more of you to love. also - your ass looks amazing in sweats.”

“i should have known the inner perv will wiggle his way out.” you grumbled shyly as you tried to push your grinning boyfriend away, who just grins in response as he you closer, catching your wrists in his hands. “you know i speak nothing but the truth love~”

and even though gojo adopted such a teasing tone, you knew that he was speaking nothing but the truth. it may not be enough to calm your whispering demons, but it did make you feel a little more confident in yourself 

gojo also continued to shower you in more and more attention, making sure you never forget just how much he loves you. and that you should never care about something as small as your weight

he loves you no matter what, no matter what size you are - as long as you are there to welcome him home after a long day of work with the all love you hold for him, that’s all he needs

© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform

[bump1nthen1ght]

Year of the Ox (Minotaur x Reader)

Pairings: Gender Neutral!Reader/M!Minotaur

Genre: Fantasy, Friends to Lovers, First times

Warnings: Explicit content (18+ only) ahead

Word Count: 3243 words

Summary: On the night of the annual new year's festival, you decide to treat your Minotaur neighbor to some new experiences.

“____, have you finished rolling those croissants yet?” The exasperated sound of your mother’s voice bounces off the small kitchen walls, shocking you out of your daydreaming and jerking your body into motion. On the counter besides you lies 40-something flat triangles of pastry, only one half-rolled into a semi-decent croissant shape.

“Uh, almost!” You yell towards the living room, scrambling to the cutting board.

“Those croissants have to be ready by tonight, darling! We can’t be the only family not bringing something to the festival!”

“I’m on it right now, ma!” You shout, pushing up your sleeves as you begin to roll.

It’s not as if the task is difficult, only mindless, the kind of busy-work that forces your mind and eyes to wander. Wander to the open window above the sink, right into the neighboring field of crops. Right where your next-door neighbor and friend, Gavin, is tilling the field.

Frankly, this shouldn’t be an issue. A couple of years ago, when you were saddled with this exact task on this exact day, you’d send Gavin a wave and be on your merry way. Maybe the two of you would shout a couple sentences to each other, making small talk about tonight, but that was it.

But now, your brain willingly deep fries itself with every glance, every peak, out onto his family’s property.

Although the winter has brought some chill, farming is still backbreaking work, one that leaves Gavin slicked with sweat and giving the occasional grunt as he digs in a shovel or hoe. His top button is undone, revealing a toned, chestnut fur-covered chest. And those pants, my god those pants, seemed to hug every perfect curve of his thick legs and butt, his long tail swaying back and forth as he worked. Every noise he makes sends a shiver down your spine.

To say Gavin underwent a “growth spurt” in the past year would be an understatement by a landslide. At only 23, he now stood over two heads above you, with a giant set of horns and a barrel-like chest. His thighs easily doubled the size of yours and his arms looked like they could rip a lumber log right in half.

Your hands continue to roll nothing but air as you find yourself lost in the contours of his muscular back, which push and pull under his shirt, giving a good picture of what lies behind the fabric.  He pauses, straightening his posture and letting out a long sigh as he stretches his back, wiping a bit of sweat off his brow. You think there might be drool coming out of your mouth, a pool of saliva you nearly choke on when he whips around, looking right at you.

As if nothing has changed, Gavin sends you a big smile, waving enthusiastically. You stick up a flour-covered hand and try to look composed.

Gavin perks up, making a rolling motion with his hands and mouthing “Croissants?”

You nod, giving him a thumbs up.

He cheers silently, clenching his fist like you just told him he won the lottery. Your family makes these croissants every year, but every year Gavin acts like it’s the greatest surprise of the season. It’s very sweet, like everything else about him.

Gavin gives you another smile and goes back to working, leaving you to pine all by yourself. You force yourself to focus on the task at hand, but even when he finishes and heads back inside, Gavin still works inside your brain.

-----------

Despite the small size of your town, the New Year’s fireworks never fail to be bigger and better than ever. It’s the one night of the year every dad is allowed to go hog wild, setting off every new, home-made firework-abomination they’ve cooked up during the holidays. But as the fireworks fire off, the blasts resonating through the shaky barn walls and their glow flashing in between the wooden boards, all you can focus is on Gavin. Gavin whose hand is on the small of your back, whose muzzle is frantically planting kisses down your neck, and whose chest you’re gripping onto for dear life as your bodies grind against each other. His hot breath sends shivers down your spine as you press your hips even closer into his, electricity weakening your news as a tell-tale bulge presses against your crotch.

With your mind hazy, you barely remember how you got here. You weren’t quite crotchety enough for your parents and a little too boring for your younger siblings, so you and Gavin often drifted away and hung out together on the New Year’s Festival. The night had been going normal, taking swigs of a spiked apple cider and wandering around the fairgrounds, although you were dressed a little nicer than usual, when Gavin lamented about having no one to kiss at midnight. A little bit of alcohol, a flirty remark from you, and things seemed to spiral from there. In no time at all the two of you had run over to his family’s barn, minds locked in a singular haze of passion.

But the why and the how mattered very little to you at the moment, especially with Gavin’s left palm slowly sneaking it’s way down to your butt, hovering over your backside hesitantly. You lean into Gavin for another kiss and grab his wrist, slapping it down on your butt and urging him to squeeze.

Even through your jeans, Gavin’s hands are rough. His fingertips just barely touch your thigh as he squeezes your cheek once more, his palm large enough to easily grab most of your ass. Gavin continues to knead until his knees hit the back of a huge hay bale, causing him to throw one of his hands back to steady himself.

It’s only when sitting that you and Gavin are face-to-face, his large thighs stretching out his work pants as you slot yourself in between and run your hands up the denim. But Gavin wastes no time in picking you up by the back of your legs and plopping you onto his lap. You rush to find his lips again, meeting Gavin halfway as you sloppily paw at his shirt, wrapping your arms around his thick neck, desperate for the feeling of his fur and muscle under your fingers.

Mind still foggy, you work up the resolve to pull away and begin tugging at the bottom of your dress shirt, untucking it from your pants and pulling it up, right until-

“Oh, shit, ____, uhm….”

You pause, peaking your head out of your shirt collar, arms still raised. Gavin looks at you, rays of moonlight catching off his horns as he breathes heavily, trying to find the words. His eyes dart from your face, your body, to somewhere in the distance as he fidgets. You slowly pull your shirt down,  pressing a hand against his cheek. “Is everything alright? We can stop if you-”

“No! No, I don’t want to stop. Definitely not. I mean, uh, if you want to stop we can, I just-”

You thumb brushes over Gavin’s cheekbones, reaching up your forefinger to sweep away the stray hairs that had fallen over his eyes. This time of year his coat is extra thick, Gavin’s hair a curly mess of locks that fall just past his snout. You could never decide which look you prefer; When he pulls his hair up into a work-bun, or when he lets it messily hang over his shoulders. But in this moment, all you can focus on are Gavin’s beautiful brown eyes, even as he avoids your gaze.

“I’ve never done this before.”

Gavin clenches his eyes shut, wincing for an oncoming reaction.

“...Oh.” You mutter, blinking quickly as you mull over this revelation. Gavin looks at you from under his eyebrows, a strong blush traveling up his neck and onto his cheeks. “Not anything? With anyone?” Gavin shakes his head. His hands play with a stray piece of hay, betraying his anxiety.

You’re shocked, Gavin is one of the most handsome bachelors in town, one you’ve been pining after for months now, but try not to let it show. While you yourself aren’t necessarily a connoisseur of sex, you’ve still had your fair share of encounters, even in your small hometown.

You quickly realize you’ve left Gavin alone with his thoughts for a solid 30 seconds, right after he told you something he is clearly nervous about. Shaking yourself out of your stupor, you straighten your posture and stand up. Gavin’s eyes follow you, small hints of fear and anxiety within them. You lean down and give him a long kiss on the lips, before pulling away and whispering in his ear.

“I want to make you feel good. Would that be okay?”

Gavin gulps, nodding against you, fingers digging into your blouse as you press another kiss behind his ear. Then on his jaw, and slowly move down his neck, leaving a trail of affection until you hit his collarbone.

You pull away and Gavin moves to sit up, but you press a solid hand on his chest and press him back down, sliding down his thighs and onto your knees. Gavin gulps as your hand travels down his abdomen, fingers dancing on his happy trail before lightly tracing over his growing hard-on. Once you’ve reached his crotch, you take your time squeezing and admiring Gavins muscular quads, not bothering to hide how aroused he’s made you. You want him to know how hot he is, how desperately you want to ravish him, have him ravish you.

Your eyes focus on his bulge, licking your lips as you slowly tip-toe your fingers to his zipper.

“If you need to stop, let me know okay? Seriously, I want you to feel comfortable.”

Gavin shakily nods, letting out a surprised groan as you palm his cock through the denim. He throws his head back as you slowly undo the zipper with one hand, the other continuing to tease and rub his dick as his boxer briefs are revealed. You slowly lean down and press a kiss to his groin, forcing another low moan out of him. Behind him, you hear the flicks of his tail against the hail bale as you give his dick another kiss. With slow movements, you finally pull on his underwear down to the top of his thighs, revealing his cock.

You had expected Gavin to be….well-endowed. But my god, nothing could compare to seeing it in person. It’s long, thick, the tip of it hitting just underneath his belly button as it presses up and out of his boxers. His balls are also large, carrying a familiar sweaty musk from long days of farmwork. Saliva begins pooling in your mouth.

Apparently you got lost in your own thoughts, staring at his cock and pondering in what way it could fit in any part of you, as Gavin sucks in a deep breath and asks,

“Is it-Are you good?” His whispers, voice trembling with pent-up pleasure. You give a wordless nod, snapping yourself out of your own self-consciousness and lock eyes with Gavin. He may have the dick of a sex-god, but this was still his first time. You send him a reassuring smile.

“Y-yeah, I’m good. Your cock is really nice.” Gavin’s whole face flushes an even darker shade, his ears twitching and his tail flicking with embarrassment.

“R-really? U-uhm, thanks. I guess I never-hngh!” Gavin’s front lurches, his throat tripping on coherent sentences as you press a kiss to the base of his cock, hand’s running up to his inner thighs. You pull back, but only an inch.

“Was that okay?”

“Y-yes, yes, yeah that was-uhng-that was good.” Gavin stammers, throwing a hand through his long hair. It brings a small smile to your face. “C-could you do it again?”

You nod once more, pressing a longer, slower kiss to Gavin’s cock. A hot stream of air pushes out of his nose and he stutters a low ‘fuck’ as you slowly begin to lick up the underside of his dick. One of your hands moves from massaging his legs to tentatively fondle his balls. In your periphery you can see his big hands clench around the hay, another deep moan coming from his chest. Your fingertips barely touch around the circumference, a bolt of heat shooting down your abdomen as you feel the size of him in your hand. A myriad of dirty images, fantasies and positions fly through your mind, but you steady yourself and focus on the task at hand.

Gavin’s breath steadily increases as you continue to jerk him off, lightly suck at his head and play with his balls. He keens and whines when you give him a particularly hard squeeze or suck, leaning his weight back on one elbow and eyeing you in between his messy hair.

“Shit, s-shit, that feels so good. Right there, please.” Gavin begs, hands struggling to find purchase on the bale below him as you continue to tease.

You finally take the leap, lifting yourself up on your knees, and take about 2 inches of him into your mouth. Your decision is immediately rewarded with Gavin’s loud, shocked moan, catching in his throat as his legs tense up. He mutters a curse under his breath and you start bobbing up and down, slowly working your way down the many inches of his long dick. Your hand movements grow sloppy as you focus more and more on breathing through your nose and sucking in your cheeks, but Gavin doesn’t seem to mind. His adorable whimpers have raised in pitch, rowdier moans breaking in between as your tongue swirls around his shaft. You can feel the way he struggles to think of what to do with his hands, mind warped by new sensations, so you grab one of his palms and place it on the back of your neck. Gavin instinctively tangles his fingers through your hair, right before lightening his grip and avoiding pushing you to choke on his cock. You struggle down another half-inch anyway, forcing his lower-body to jolt and his hands to tighten.

For a virgin, he has rather impressive stamina, the back of your throat beginning to tire after several minutes of the intense blowjob. But Gavin’s moans and tiny pleas for “More, more, more” are music to your ears, time passing like nothing.

In your hand, you feel his balls tighten, his thighs tensing around you as his tail flickers uncontrollably.

“Oh fuck, oh shit. ____, I’m close, I’m so close.” Gavin keenes, his hips stuttering up and into your mouth as you pick up your pace. Gavin continues to stutter and whine, peppering you with compliments as his legs quiver with an impending orgasm. But at the last second, you detach with a sloppy pop, giving a light kiss to his pre-cum soaked head. Gavin’s eyes jolt open, losing his grip on your scalp as his chest heaves up and down.

“W-what-”

“You want to come down my throat, big boy?” You murmur, squeezing the base of his cock in a vice grip. Gavin yelps, hips humping into yours. “You want me to swallow a mouthful? Feel my throat around your cock as you cum?” You suck on one of his balls and Gavin’s moan is downright musical. Gavin frantically shakes his head up and down. “Uh-uh, sweetie. I want to hear you.”

You don’t know where this wave of confidence is coming from, perhaps you yourself are discovering something new tonight as well. But as Gavin looks at you, cheeks dark with embarrassment and eyes desperate for you and only you, it feels as if a spark has set off a stick of dynamite in your belly. Gavin pushes back his hair, sucking in another long breath, right before he says.

“P-please, I want to come in your mouth. ____, I need your mouth on my cock, please.”

Your smirk, immediately latching back onto his cock and quickly deepthroating him. Gavin’s hand moves on its own and presses you down even farther, tears peaking at the edge of your eyes as he presses against your gag reflex. Your hand continues it’s ministrations with his balls as you suck up and down. Gavin lets his moans out, no longer bothering to suppress them in his chest as his lower body tenses once more.

“Sh-shit! S-shit, I’m coming, I’m coming, ____ I’m comi-ing!”

Like a tidal wave, Gavin orgasms, his first shot nearly causing you to choke as it hits the back  of your throat.

Wow, I didn’t even think it was possible to cum this much.

You lock your lips around his dick as he continues to climax, filling up your mouth with his seed as he throws his body back onto the hay bale. When you finally pull off, a long stream of cum leaks down the side of your mouth, forcing you to swallow as soon as you can. With a silent and satisfactory “Aaah~”, you wipe at your chin.

Gavin lays, exhausted, on the bale. His tail weakly sways back and forth under him, his sweaty fur sticking out from his few top undone buttons. You let yourself rest back on your thighs, a little sweaty yourself, admiring your handiwork.

“That feel good?”

Gavin nods, a mindless smile on his face as he catches his breath. You chuckle at his blissed expression, giving him a solid pat on the calf.

Using his thick thighs as leverage, you push yourself up, leaning over his large form and giving him a small peck on the cheek. Gavin’s smile grows even wider and he gives you a kiss of your own, his hand lazily patting your lower back.

“Well,” You rub his chest fur, “I’m happy I could give you your first blowjob, big guy.”

You move to push yourself away, but Gavin holds you still, his one hand easily keeping you in place as he presses himself back up and onto his elbows. He pecks another kiss on your cheek.

“I’m happy too. You were really, really amazing.”

“I try my best.” Gavin chuckles, thumb still lackadaisical brushing up and down your back. “We should probably-”

“Do you-”

The two of you pause, each trying to let the other one speak their piece.You both laugh, but then you relent and let Gavin go first. His face fills with blush once more, adjusting himself and sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck as he tries to find the right way to speak.

“It’s just….that was a pretty fantastic first blowjob. And handjob, technically. Like, really great.” Gavin pauses, eyes darting from you to the ground. “I appreciate it so, so much. I was thinking that you could, uhm, maybe teach me how to-” The words stumble out of Gavin’s mouth, his hand slightly fidgeting with the back of your shirt, “Maybe you could teach me how to make you feel good? B-but only if you want to.”

You pause, slightly shocked, until you feel that tightening heat firing up in your belly, a slight tremor of excitement shaking down your limbs. You nod, just a tiny bit breathless.

“Y-yes, I would love that, Gavin.”

With a smirk, Gavin sweeps you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he holds onto your thighs, laying a kiss on your pulse point.

What a way to spend the new year.

[silversatoru]

Hi, I just finished burdens and OML 🥺🥺🥺

May I request some sort of megumi x reader continuous where the reader ends up becoming a powerful sorcerer (or a cursed spirit👀 whichever you’d like tbh) megumi and the reader somehow cross paths again a little while after the break up and he witnesses her fighting for the first time? I just know that boy would fall in love all over again but she’s moved on and he feels guilty and just angst? And maybe fluff idk. I’m new to requests so I hope I did this right, thank you so much❤️❤️

burdens pt. 2

a/n: hello, part two of this not-so-lovely story is finally here. every single one of you is allowed one free punch to my face for taking so long to write it,,, i’m so sorry. this is its fourth rewrite and it got a little darker than expected but it’s finally done,, i hope you enjoy <3

fushiguro megumi x f!reader

synopsis: you finally see megumi again at the kyoto sister school goodwill event

tags/warnings: angst, some graphic depictions of violence, character death

word count: 3k

“Do you know how tired I am of watching the people I love die? Things would be so much easier for me if you just stayed the fuck away”.

Megumi’s bitter words were on repeat in your head — the harshness of his voice leaving a hollow feeling carved into your chest. Tear-stained cheeks and shaky breathes had become your new normal these past few days. Tight, sharp pains filled your empty stomach, waves of nausea coursing through your body.

You’ve had no motivation to get out of bed lately, nevermind to shower or cook yourself a proper meal — honestly, for all you cared you could rot away in your blanket filled bed. You checked your phone like a fiend too, thinking that eventually, a miraculous text from Megumi would appear and make everything better. It never did.

He’d completely ghosted you since that dreadful day, and that hurt more than anything. You’d held onto a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, he hadn't meant what he said. But as the days continued to pass, your hope quickly dwindled.

To say your current state was shameful was putting it lightly, and you were embarrassed at how poorly this was effecting you. You liked to think that you were strong, motivated, independent — that you didn't need some douchebag just to feel happy. But truth be told, breakups are fucking hard, and it's okay to not be okay for a while — or at least that's what you kept telling yourself.

So when you were trudging miserably down the street to your local convenience store and you saw a familiar pair of jujutsu sorcerers, you wanted desperately to sink into the ground. You made a quick turn to head to a different shop, but it was too late, you were spotted.

“y/n! hey!” Two lighthearted voices sang through the air, filling your ears and making your heart clench in your chest.

You turned around and anxiously approached them, your unkempt hair and baggy eyes sending looks of concern across their faces.

“Hey girl, you good?” Nobara shot you a sideways glance, Maki raising a suspicious eyebrow.

“Yeah, uh, ice cream,” You croaked, speaking for the first time in a couple days, “I’m here for ice cream, that’s all”.

“Yeah, but why do you look like a fucking zombie?” Maki pushed her eyeglasses further up her nose, her sharp eyes looking you up and down.

“Ah, he didn’t say anything to you guys, did he?” You shook your head, heavy eyes falling to ground as you refused to meet theirs.

“Don’t tell me…” Nobara’s face contorted, “Did he break up with you?”

You nodded, a pitiful chuckle falling from your lips, because if you didn’t laugh, you’d start sobbing right now.

Maki threw her arm around your shoulder, pulling you to her side and ushering you into the store, “It’s okay, men suck. Hang out with us today”.

Meanwhile, Nobara trailed quickly behind the two of you, anger seething from her teeth and steam practically billowing out of her ears.

“That fuckhead! I swear I’ll fuck his shit up big time, he won’t even know what fucking hit him. I knew that boy was stupid but shit, this is a whole new low for him! I-,” She continued to ramble and rant as Maki led you through the store, picking out drinks and snacks to help ease your pain.

The three of you ended up in a nearby park, sitting around a small picnic table and gorging on the massive array of snacks. Lighthearted conversation and lots of food make your chest ache a little less, and you even found yourself laughing and chatting as if things were normal. You’d told the two of them all about that day, about Megumi’s irrational words and his tragic breakdown that led to some kind of fucked-up break up sex.

“So, how are we gonna get back at him? Egg his car? Put bleach in his shampoo? Bugs in his food? God - it’s a shame his dad is dead because from the pictures I’ve seen that man was FINE and revenge sex—,”

“Nobara,” Maki shot her idiot girlfriend a dirty look, and the orange-haired girl quickly shut her mouth, “As much as I support any idea that revolves around ruining a man’s day, I don’t think revenge is the healthiest coping strategy here”.

You were tracing your eyes around Maki’s face as she spoke, and you found yourself carefully inspecting her purple glasses that rested softly on the bridge of her nose. And that’s when it clicked, the light bulb ignited in your head and you knew exactly what you wanted to do.

“Maki,” your voice was urgent, “You don’t have cursed energy, you can’t even see them without your glasses!”

Her face twisted and her nose scrunched, a look of distaste in her eyes, “I know?”

“So, you could teach me, right? You could help me learn how to use some cursed weapons?”

“Yeah! You have to Maki, then she can beat his ass with me,” Nobara chimed in.

“That’s not a bad idea actually,” Maki’s mouth formed an evil grin, “Could you imagine his face after watching you exorcise a curse?”

The three of your conversed for a bit longer, speculating and potting about training, weapons, and your very own pair of curse-seeing glasses. By the end of the night you had a plan, and a pretty good one if you say so yourself.

From that day on, teary eyes and achy hearts were a thing of the past, not because it was that easy to get over Megumi, but because Maki didn’t even allow you the time to feel dismal anymore. You met her everyday after classes without fail, and everyday she would train you until you thought your arms would fall off. After months and months of sore muscles, sweat, and the occasional injury, you were convinced that Maki was incapable of feeling pity or remorse for other living things. Every time you speculated about quitting, she’d set a fire under you, unafraid to remind you how weak you still were.

The green-haired sorcerer had ultimately decided that you worked best dual-armed -- a long, lightweight blade in each hand. On your final day of training, she officially gifted the two swords to you, as a “graduation” gift.

Skill-wise, you were by no means as incredible Maki, but you definitely held your own, and the progress you’d made in a mere 8 months was astronomical. They’d introduced you to a strange silver-haired man at some point, Gojo, who had taken not only an interest in you but also your plot against your ex-boyfriend. He cackled to himself when you told him why you were here, going on and on about how priceless Megumi’s face would be when he saw you.

Your appearance was highly anticipated, so why not debut at one of the biggest jujutsu events all year? The Kyoto Sister School Goodwill Event — Gojo thought it was the most perfect idea.

You tried hard to exude confidence as you walked at Nobara and Maki’s sides, but behind your arrogant facade your stomach was twisting itself into knots. Truthfully, you were scared to see Megumi again after so long.

And when your eyes met with his as you walked into the meeting room, you thought you just might pass out. You thought you were ready for this — but the look of complete shock, fear, and anger on his face as he looked you up and down almost made you regret all of it.

“What’s going on?” Megumi’s words were incredibly calculated, an edge on his voice.

His question was pointless, however, because judging by the fact that you were wearing a jujutsu tech uniform and had two swords sheathed at your sides could only mean one thing. Your hair was longer now too, and your frame was wider with an extra layer of muscle from all the training — you almost looked like a different person.

“I’ve been training with Maki, I-,” You spoke up to explain yourself, but you weren’t even granted the opportunity.

“No, no, Maki, what the hell did you do?” His eyes were shaky and laced with concern.

“I only did what she asked me to. I’m not the one who gave her a complex about being weak, you did that,” Maki shrugged, “and she’s not your girlfriend anymore dude, what do you care?”

Absolute confliction flashed through his eyes, uncertainty and madness swirling in his irises, “You’re right, I don’t care. Let me know when the event is starting”.

He took a sharp turn out of the room and let the door slam a little too hard behind him. The sound of his icey voice and the door shutting with unkind force was all too reminiscent of the night you broke up. Burying every emotion you had deep into your stomach you gave Maki a small, reassuring smile and plopped down on one of the couches.

“Alright, so when does this thing start?”

after the start of the event

Fighting the Kyoto students was proving to be much harder than you initially expected, but you were holding your own at Maki’s side. The two of you had easily taken down a small, kind, blue haired girl named Miwa, and now you were watching an emotional battle between Maki and her sister unfold.

Wait here, she’d told you, I want to do this one myself. Take some notes on my form and watch our backs, okay?

Okay, you’d said, a little confused but ultimately finding a nice spot up in a thick tree to carefully observe from. Maki was truly a force of nature, and it seemed like the other girl never actually had a chance of winning. It was honestly only a few minutes before the small black, haired girl was slumped against a tree and Maki was making her way back to you. Things were looking good, two of Kyoto’s student’s were down already and adrenaline was pumping through your veins.

You couldn't quite shake the awful feeling churning in your stomach though, and Megumi’s face was haunting your thoughts. You hadn’t seen him since before the event started, when an odd, pink haired boy jumped out of a box and freaked everyone out. Nobara had later explained who he was and what had happened, and you wondered how many awful surprises Gojo had planned today -- first you, then that.

A small rumble rippled under your feet, and Maki grabbed your arm as you watched a giant brown vine lurch it’s way out of the ground a few hundred yards in the distance.

“That technique doesn’t belong to anyone from Kyoto,” She shot you a look of concern and determination, “let’s go check it out”.

You gave her a firm nod, the two of you making your way towards the horrifying wooden vines. By the time you managed to arrive, Inumaki was already down and so was a dark-haired boy from Kyoto. A muscular, white curse with black markings and wooden branches for eyes was moments away from taking Megumi on all by himself — thank god you got here in time to help.

Megumi, however, was horrified when he saw you jump over the tall roofed building with Maki at your side. He’d just watched two incredible sorcerers get their shit rocked by this curse, there was no way you would stand a chance against this thing. But before he could even try to stop you, you and the green-haired sorcerer were flying through the air and taking shots at the curse. The two of you worked perfectly in sync, the months of daily training finally paying off.

He watched with intent glazed over his eyes, his heart threatening to lurch up his throat. You were a spectacle, and he always thought you were beautiful but seeing you now with dirt and blood stained clothes, cursed weapons gripped firmly in your hands, you truly were ethereal. He hated it though, he hated that he was falling in love with you all over again, especially under these circumstances. Guilt and anxiety was eating away at him — why did you have to get involved? Why couldn’t you have just stayed away like he told you to?

He was quick to join the two of you, sticking close to your side to protect you if need be — but, even with all three of you together the curse still had the upper hand. Maki had been swatted to the side, her back slamming hard against one of the tiled roofs and knocking her unconscious. It was down to just the two of you now, beads of sweat causing your hair to uncomfortably stick to the back of your neck. This was something that Maki’s training could have never prepared you for.

Megumi was getting tired, taking one wrong step and losing his footing momentarily. The curse saw this as a perfect window of opportunity, sending a spiral of vines and branches hurling for Megumi. It was fast, but the adrenaline coursing through you helped you to move faster, launching yourself through the air and intercepting the attack. The barky, wooden vines twisted violently through your stomach, shooting clean through your back and ripping a violent scream from your throat.

It hurt so bad, feeling the plant wriggle through your organs and tear you apart from the inside out. The curse retracted his vine a few moments later, leaving your mangled body to fall helplessly to the roof. Tears rippled from your eyes, your body shaking and seizing as you coughed up a few sprays of blood.

A long, strong pair of arms scooped you up instantaneously, and your head was resting against a firm chest — probably Megumi, but you didn’t quite have the energy to open your eyes to check.

“We’ll take it from here, get her to Ieiri!” You heard a pair of deep voices yelling to Megumi, but it was too foggy and far away for you to understand what they were saying.

Megumi was seething with anger, moving as fast as his feet could carry him and he ran through the school. As you waved in and out of consciousness, you batted open your eyes, stealing quick glances at his twisted features and — were those tears on his face?

“I- I’m sorry Megumi… I think I finally understand what you were so afraid of all this time,” Your voice was barely a croak, “when I saw it coming, I couldn’t stomach the thought of having to watch you die. I suddenly just thought I would do anything to keep you safe”.

Yeah, those were definitely tears, you could see them a little clearer now. His eyes were red and his cheeks were dried with salty streaks.

“You’re so thick-headed,” he mumbled, his grip around you tightening slightly as he picked up his pace, “I wish you would have made that realization before there was a giant hole in your stomach”.

“Me too,” You hummed, but you weren’t really in any pain anymore. The pain had subdued to a sweet warm sensation inside your stomach, and an intoxicating sleepiness was washing over your head, “I was angry for a long time, but I’m not mad at you anymore, Gumi. I hope you can forgive me too”.

You offered him a tiny smile, but the blood leaking from between you keeps made it anything but sweet.

“There’s nothing to forgive you for, you never did anything wrong,” He spoke quickly, his voice quiet and cracking.

“No, but we’re not gonna make it to Ieiri, I know that and so do you,” You fell into a violent fit of coughs again, sputtering red splatters all over the front of his uniform.

“Shut up”.

“It’s not your fault, none of it was ever your fault,” you choked out once the fit of coughs subsided — and you weren’t just talking about yourself, you were talking about all of the unfortunate tragedies he’d witnessed throughout this life.

“And you’re allowed to be selfish sometimes, you know? I hope that when you meet someone, your soulmate even, you can allow yourself to love them with every part of you”.

The words painfully left your lips, but you meant every single one of them. You were starting to realize that you and Megumi were never meant to make it to the end. You weren’t his soulmate, you were here to help him grow, so that when he did finally meet them he’d be ready.

“You deserve to be loved, Megumi,” You looked up at him with big eyes, but his face was starting to get really fuzzy now.

Your fingers were going numb and your mouth felt like it was filled with sand. You were so tired, letting your eyes flutter shut and your head rest softly against Megumi’s chest. You felt him stop running, you could even hear him screaming at you — but it was too far away for you to hear. You drifted closer and closer to eternal sleep, your soul swollen with love for the boy who broke your heart.

Megumi didn’t even feel sad when you stopped breathing in his arms — he just felt hollow. More empty and broken than he’d ever thought possible. You were the most incredible person he’d ever met — someone with extreme motivation, who acted with no fear or hesitation, who always had love to give, even when he didn’t deserve it. He’d never forget you, not for as long as he’d live anyway.

Even when he did meet a new girl a few years later — a compassionate, brave girl, who reminded him a lot of you — he wouldn’t forget. He wouldn’t forget your words and for the first time in his life he’d let his walls down for her. He’d allow himself to truly love, and be loved in return.

And maybe you were right, maybe he did deserve to be loved like this, because god, he finally feels whole again when she’s around. He just wishes you were still here so he could say thank you.

[johnsamericano]

𝓓𝓪𝔂 3:

ѕυн נσнииу

23 days of NCT masterlist.

warnings: tooth-rotting shit, Johnny is a dick at the beggining, inexperienced reader, fem masturbation, it's kinda bad but I hope you enjoy.

taglist: @notbeforelong @curieouscapt @whathamelon @unknown5tar

“I’m going out with my friends tonight, don’t wait up for me.” He commented while slipping his black, leather shoes on.

“Drive carefully .” You answered as you popped a cup of instant ramen inside the microwave.

“Yeah.” You took a deep breath after the door closed behind him. Freedom finally.

You turned on the Tv, setting the volume louder than usual. Johnny didn’t like noise, to be honest, he probably didn’t even like you. He had so many house rules, you couldn’t even breathe without getting scolded by him. Not even three months had passed since your wedding and you already felt like you were in some sort of military camp.

“God, it smells so nice.” You murmured, pulling out the hot cup from the microwave and dumping the content in a bowl.

You ate on the sofa, another thing that Johnny hated, while watching your favorite series, enjoying your time alone. If it wasn’t for your parents, you would’ve never agreed to marry him, but they sounded so excited with the idea that you couldn’t refuse them, it wasn’t like you had a line of men waiting for you anyways.

You decided to have a little dessert, a mug cake, to be specific. You decided to make one for Johnny as well, the memories of you as kids eating all sorts of candies coming back to you as to mixed all the ingredients together. What happened to him during high school? All you knew was that he studied abroad and came back like a completely different man. He wasn’t your Johnny anymore. Of course, you were sad at first, but your sadness soon turned into anger as his attitude towards you got worse.

“Get lost.” Or “You’re so annoying.” Were some of the things you’d often hear.

You stopped trying after a semester, and it was quite healing to be honest. But then your parents had to bring him back to your life, and in the worst way possible. Nevertheless, they seemed happy, knowing that someone nice was living with you. Of course, they didn’t know the new Johnny.

After eating up all your food, you washed the dishes and laid down on the couch, your eyelids slowly closing as you drifted away. It wasn’t until a couple of hours later when a pair of arms woke you.

“Huh?” You opened your eyes a bit disoriented.

Johnny held you between his arms, carrying you towards your shared bedroom, which he almost never used.

“Go back to sleep, I got you.” He tucked you in with delicate movements. You could sense alcohol in his breath, but he wasn’t acting drunk at all. “Close your eyes.” He murmured as he felt your gaze over him.

“If alcohol was all it took for you to be nice, I would’ve poured some whiskey on your morning coffee every day.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at your remarks.

“I’ve been a bit rude to you, haven’t I?” He kneeled down in front of the bed, his thumb tracing the shape of your eyebrow. Now you were certain he was drunk. “I’m sorry, I still don’t know how to act around you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ever since you rejected me-”

“I’m sorry, what?” You frowned.

“You know, the letter I sent you when I was abroad...” He tried helping you remember, things getting clearer for him at your lack of response. “You didn’t get it, did you?” You shook your head. “Shit.”

“So you’ve been an ass to me for a letter I didn’t even get? Way to go, Suh.” Anger started boiling at the bottom of your stomach, sleepiness abandoning your system. “God, I wanna hit you so bad right now.”

“Please, do so.” He felt like a piece of garbage, having treated the girl he loved like his worst enemy for a misunderstanding. “But, hypothetically, if you had gotten that letter...what would’ve been your answer?” He fidgeted with the bedsheets, feeling your legs shift under them.

“I don’t know, what did it say?”

“I’m not gonna tell you what a lame 14 year old wrote to his crush.” He scoffed. “It was just a love confession, quite cheesy if you ask me.”

“If I had gotten that letter...” You cupped his soft cheeks, they were burning, probably because of the drinks he’d had, or maybe because of your touch. “I would’ve begged my parents to let me take a flight to see you, so I could answer to your confession in person.” His heart stopped, the answer he’d longed for so many years was finally about to slip from your mouth. “I did like you, John. But then you abruptly changed, and you hurt me so much during this past years.” Your words sounded unforgiving, and yet, you had the softest look on your moonlit face. “But I’m willing to let that go if you tell me what you’re feeling right now.”

He didn’t hesitate to pull your face closer to his, your noses slightly touching.

“I’m so glad you agreed to marry me, that way I get to spend the rest of my life with the woman I’ve loved for so many years. Only if you want that too, of course.”

“Will rude Johnny be back tomorrow morning?” You asked, your eyebrows knitted together.

“Rude Johnny’s dead.” His sweet smile encouraged you to finally shorten the distance between your lips. It was your very first real kiss as a couple.

Your lips fitted perfectly together, like two puzzle pieces. He was the first to make a move, placing his hand on the back of your neck to pull you closer as he climbed on top of your body. The kiss started getting heated, his tongue freely exploring your mouth as his hands got playful, softly kneading your breast.

The palms of your hands touched his well built pecs, a small gasp escaping your mouth as you realized how strong he really was. He was definitely not the skinny teenager you were in love with.

“What is it, baby?” He smiled, his cheeks turning slightly pink, your wide eyes looking attentively at him.

“Did you eat teenage Johnny or something?” He laughed, the prettiest and most genuine laugh you’d ever heard from him.

“No, but there’s someone else I’m surely gonna eat out tonight.” You smack his chest, a high pitched whine coming out from his mouth. “What was that for?”

“Don’t talk like that...it’s my first time.” He’d already guessed it by the fact that you’d never had a boyfriend or a proper date, but it was still shocking to hear it from your own mouth.

“Then I guess I’ll have to be gentle.” His long fingers started undoing the buttons of his dress shirt right in front of your inexperienced eyes, cockily smirking at the way you’d unconsciously bite your lower lip. “Can I ask something?” You nodded, eyes still glued to his half naked chest. “The day of our wedding...was that your first kiss?” You remembered the lame peck you received as soon as the officiant declared you husband and wife.

“Sadly.” He felt as if a hundred needles were stabbing his lovesick heart.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized, kissing your soft lips over and over again. “I stole your first kiss.”

“Then make up for it.” You raised your hips, your sensitive core meeting with his bulge and stealing a gasp from both of you.

His hungry lips attached to your neck, sucking several purple marks on it as your hands quickly worked through the remaining buttons of his shirt, helping him slide it down his arms. Even with the lack of light in your room, you could see his torso perfectly, the way his biceps would twitch as his hands slipped inside your shirt, thumbs caressing the soft skin of your tummy.

“Johnny.” You moaned, his hands moving upwards to play with your hard nipples.

“Turn on the light on the nightstand, I want to see you.” He murmured beside your ear, kissing the shell of it as you extended your arm to do as he said.

You blinked repeatedly, trying to adjust to the new illumination. Johnny looked even more ethereal under the dim, yellow light.

“Why have you got to be so damn perfect?” Your fingers traced his well-defined abs, mesmerized by the shape of them. While you were distracted drooling over his body, he took the chance to lift your shirt just above your round boobs, moaning at the sight of the two, beautiful mounds. Reality stroke you as you felt your nipples harden from the cold air. “Don’t look at me like that.” You avoided his eyes, your body growing hotter under his intense gaze.

“How do you expect me to look at the woman I love?” You turned to your side, shirt still lifted.

“Stop it.” Johnny loved how shy you’d always been around him, specially whenever he complimented you.

“No.” He pecked your cheek, hands going down to remove your shorts, stopping right before lowering the waistband. “Are you really okay with this?” You nodded, still refusing to look at him.

“Are you?”

“What a silly question, of course I am.” Without any further delay, he pulled both of the pieces covering your lower half down. You pressed your legs together, trying to hide your wet center. “Why are you hiding yourself from me, baby?” He mocked, hands caressing your round ass.

“I’ve never been naked in front of anyone.” He was quick to dispose his remaining clothes, wanting to make you feel more comfortable.

“Look at me.” His big hand was holding the side of your head as you turned back to him, trying your best not to look down at his manhood. “Open your legs for me.” As he was the experienced one, you decided to let him take the lead, slowly revealing yourself to him. “Good girl.” His praises only sent electric shocks right into your core.

“Are you gonna put it inside now?” Adorable, Johnny thought, using his finger pads to tease your inner thighs.

“No, I need to prepare you first. Otherwise, it might hurt.” He’d done it thousands of times, but it somehow felt different with you, as if he had to be extra careful to make sure you had the most pleasurable experience, even if it meant having to endure the stinging pain between his legs for a while longer.

He first used his middle finger to run it up and down your slit, satisfied at how wet you were for him. He talked you through every single one of his movements, making sure you were comfortable with everything he was doing.

“Johnny.” You whined, three fingers pumping in and out of your entrance. It was definitely different than when you did it by yourself, his digits reached deeper, delivering a new kind of pleasure. “I need you.”

He hummed, pulling out his fingers to grab the base of his dick. He ran the tip over your slit, your hips slightly bucking at the contact.

“Tell me when it stops hurting.” He was only halfway in when you asked him for a break, already feeling overwhelmingly full. “Don’t worry, take your time.” He said despite feeling the urgent need to move.

It took you a few minutes to recover, letting him bottom out. The pain was bearable after that first break, so you almost immediately asked him to move. Johnny started off slowly, both of his hands beside your head as he rolled his hips against yours.

“Does it feel good?” He didn’t even need a verbal answer, your facial expressions were more than enough to let him know just how good he was making you feel. “I’m not gonna last long.”

“Me neither.” You held onto his biceps, the knot on your tummy becoming tighter as he picked up the pace.

He lowered his face to connect your lips, both of you moaning into each other’s mouth as you reached your high, bare chests touching each other while you tried to slow your heartbeat.

“I wish this would’ve been out wedding night.” He kissed your collarbone, pulling out to plop down beside you. “Again, I’m really sorry.”

“Let it go already, John.” You hugged his naked body against yours, letting his hand play with your hair. “As long as you’re like this from now on, we’ll be alright.”

You didn’t even notice when your eyes started closing again, falling asleep beside your now loving husband. The next morning you panicked as he wasn’t by your side anymore. Had it been a dream?

“Good morning, sunshine.” Johnny suddenly came through the door, a tray with food between his hands. “You must be hungry after last night.” He left it on top of your legs, smiling naturally as if this was your everyday routine.

It was definitely gonna take time to adjust to this Johnny.

“Heart shaped sandwiches? That’s so corny, Suh.” You laughed, staring at your food with sparkly eyes.

“Hey! That took me two hours to make.” He went to the bathroom and returned with a hairbrush. “Your hair’s a mess, let me fix it while you eat.” He sat down behind you, slowly going through your hair as you stuffed your face with food.

“Does this mean I’m not gonna have to add whiskey to your morning coffee?” He chuckled behind you, pressing his lips to the back of your neck.

“That won’t be necessary.” He tied your hair up in a not-so-messy bun, lacing his arms and legs around your waist once he was done. “You look cute on my shirt.” You hadn’t even noticed. Probably he’d cleaned you up and dressed you right after you fell asleep.

“I look cute in everything.”

“Yes you do.” More kisses. “Now hurry up, we’re going out today.”

“Where to?”

“I’m taking you out on our very first date.”

[monochromemedic]

I had been stuck in the Dark World for who knows how long. The days didn’t seem to matter down here. No sun, no moon, just the vibrant green grid that coated the sky that would twitch and surge with occasional frequency.  When I first got here, I fought hard to get back to the surface, to fight for any sense of normalcy, for home but after a while the dream began to fade. The options began to run dry when compared to the dangers that surrounded me. And so I settled. I survived. I searched for food, begged for shelter from kind Darkners. I did what I had to to live. The Queen was not an option. Whispers from Darkners told me how I was just what she was looking for, that would help her expand her reign to the Light World. As much as that would probably help me, I didn’t want to ruin the lives of others for the chance to see my family, as much as I missed them with every passing minute. The sound of bustling cars and the blinding lights of neon signs stung my senses, my palms pressing into my eyes to drown out what I could. Damn it this place never slept did it? There was always something, some sort of noise. Whatever bags I had under my eyes were probably made cartoonishly drastic with the lack of pure rest I was getting. ‘Supose it was better then being dead... My body felt heavy, and I knew I’d have to find a place to rest or I’d fall asleep mid crossing of a road and get run over by one of those goofy cars I’d seen. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad... I recalled the time one of the car’s rear bumped into a fire hydrant (or at least I thought it was) and made a squeaking sound. The darkness of a certain alley called to me, the silence a sweet lullaby to the roaring around me. Was it dangerous? Oh yeah. Was it stupid? No shit. Was I going to do it? The shadows the engulfed me were perfect and if it wasn’t for the underlying stench of garbage it’d probably be ideal. Still beggars couldn’t be choosers and if tonight was good enough I would have to consider having this as my permanent sleeping spot. My back slid against the cool wall across from the dumpster, eyes half lidded as they read the advertisements littering above. Why the hell did the Queen have ads anyway, if she wanted she could monopolize any products she wanted... Despite the quiet I couldn’t shake the feeling that creeped down my spine. The presence of something other then myself around me. I tried to close my eyes, I was in the city after all. It’d be concerning if I didn’t feel like people were one second from crawling up my ass. Though I had to admit I didn’t expect to actually feel something begin to touch me. My eyes snapped open, elbow prodding into a blurry shape that yelped and tumbled backward, it’s grasp my on shoulder tearing a hole in my already worn shirt in the struggle. “Hey! What the hell?!” I barked, standing over the perpetrator. My shoulders slumped when I saw what looked to be a doll staring up at me with wide eyes, an over exaggerated smile permanently spread across it’s face. The creature’s jaw opened wider with a clack, it’s small body shooting upwards to stand on it’s small pointed feet. “WOAH WOAH WOAHAH- [Live worms]!”   The darkner’s voice was deafeningly loud, a shrill tone that cut the air like newly sharpened blades. “ I THOUGHT YOU WERE [Roadkill]. NICE TO KNOW I WON’T BE [Sleeping with the fishes] T0NIGHT!!” Well he had a certain way of speaking that was obvious. What the hell was going on with him, he talked like he was constantly being cut of random clips of other people speaking. He talked like a youtube poop or any other shitpost that would randomly shove memes into them for a quick laugh. “You thought I was dead? I was just... I was... uh.” I looked around me, eyeing the dirt and debris. “I was... going to sleep... here.”  Dammit, telling people I had to sleep in such ratty places were always a blow to the ego but I suppose it was better then saying ‘Oh I was just sitting down here to die’ The puppet shook his head and waltzed over to the dumpster, his small hand smacking the side with a sense of pride. “ [Finders keepers, losers weepers] HUMAN, YOU PICKED A GOOD SPOT. TOO BAD [so sadd] I GOT HERE FIRST. THOUGH FOR A DEAL I SUPPOSE I COULD [Share the love~]” “Got here first... what are you talking about?” The Darkner let out a laugh, distorted echoes filling the air as he leapt inside, a solitary hand popping out to beg me to come closer. This was a terrible idea, but despite my best judgement I followed, and witnessed what I could only describe to be a makeshift bed inside.  The puppet laid on top of musty mats and raggedy rugs, a single stained pillow resting just beneath his head. My god was he living in here? The creature continued his laugh, lurching only a few inches away from my face. “ [Sweet deal] ISN’T IT? J3ALOUS, [baby]?”  I shirked back, cheeks reddening at the tone of his last word. I was most defiantly not jealous, in fact I was filled with remorse, something his pride did not help with. “It’s... uh something. I guess this means I’ll have to find another alleyway um, sorry for bothering you-” “SPAMTON.” “What?” His hand shot out towards my chest, fingers wiggling for a handshake. “SP-SPA MTON G SPAMTON, [Number 1 rated salesmen 1997]” He announced, an extra flair of bravado laced his titled. His hand was surprisingly warm for what it was made of but nothing that would be described as body temperature.  “Jenna. Also 1997.” “WHAT A YEAR. LISTEN LIGHT nER, I AM DEALSMAN [yes/no?]” “Um... y-yes? I don’t-” “THEN LET ME MAKE A DEAL YEAH? FOR ONLY [many] KROMER, YOU MAY STAY IN MY [Privately owned] ALLEY. IT’S A REAL [steal] YOU’RE ROBBING ME [deaf] HERE!” My brows furrowed as I searched his face for any context clues for what the hell he was trying to say. Kromer? What the fuck was ‘kromer’? The only thing I knew of currency down here was dark dollars not kromer... even if he did ask for dark dollars he didn’t name a price, he just said many. And the amount of dark dollars I had was zero. “Uh I don’t have kromer. I don’t even have dark dollars I’m kinda broke Spamton, in case you couldn’t tell from uh...” I trailed off realizing saying that sleeping in an alley wasn’t a very smart thing to say to someone who slept in an alley.  He seemed surprised by my words, beginning to tug on my coat, flipping my pockets to see if I was really lying. I had to push his mitts off me a couple of times, to which he eventually got the idea the way his hands began to rub at his extended jaw. “NO KROMER... WHAT CAN YOU DO?” “What do you mean?” He seemed to sense my change in tone, his grin beginning to wobble nervously “[Whoopsie daisy!] LET ME START AGAIN. DO YOU HAVE A [trade]? A [skill] TO [Exchange for goods and services]?” he croaked. I eyed the ground, rubbing the back of my neck. What the hell was I good at again? “I mean, I can draw, I suppose...” “ARTIST? WOW OWOW!” Spamton’s face lit up before digging in the dumpster, pulling out a few napkins and a ball point pen and shoving them into my hands. “WHAT A [trade] TELL YOU WHAT. YOU DRAW A [one-of-a-kind masterpiece] AND YOU CAN STAY THE NIGHT!” “You’ll let me stay... if I draw something for you on this napkin. Am I getting that right?” The doll nodded feverishly, basically hovering over my shoulder as I played with the pen. This was certainly the weirdest way to pay someone that I could imagine... well no but one that was in the realm of reality. I had to ask Spamton to give me some space a few time, the feeling of his breath on  my neck making me more then nervous as I drew. God he was like those kids in school that would ask for drawings but ten times worse with the amount of personal space he’d give you. Besides I needed something to draw and with nothing on the mind why not draw the most interesting thing in front of me. I held the finished doodle out to Spamton only to have it snatched out of my fingers so fast I swore we could have started a fire. “WOAH...” The puppet sank inside of the dumpster, his face softening  as for once in what seemed like forever the alley way grew silent. “THIS IS... ME?” “Yeah. Sorry I didn’t know what to draw, you kind of put me on the spot. Besides everyone likes drawings of themselves right?” I shrugged, being pulled away from my thoughts by an overdramatic sniffle. Was he... crying? Not quite, just damn well close. Spamton’s shoulders quaked as a warm smile returned to his cheeks, slipping the napkin into his pocket with glee. “SO GOOD... THANK YOU.” “It’s really nothing, honestly that was a pretty shitty drawing.” “WHAT? YOU’RE [&#!^]ING ME! THAT WAS [BIG SHOT]” He was screaming again, hands gesturing wildly about. “It wasn’t but thank you. I wish I was better to be honest. I’m not very happy with my art, not at all.” I turned away from his gaze, unsure of why I was overcome by a choking sensation building my throat.  Why the hell was I telling this stranger this sort of stuff anyway? I mean I could hazard a guess it was the fact that this was the longest conversation I had had with anyone since I had gotten down here but with how things were it could be some magic power the doll possessed to tell him my deepest darkest secrets. “YOU DON’T THINK THIS IS [Big?]” “No.” “WHY NOT?” “I don’t know. I just... I think it doesn’t look the way I want it to. Doesn’t look good to me, and I don’t know how to fix it. Which I guess is a little funny considering how long I’ve been drawing. Just keep... drawing and drawing and never improving, least not how I’d like. It’s just garbage to me.” Spamton’s face seemed to fall, his glasses fading to a dark inky black.  “YOU FEEL? NO GOOD AT WHAT YOU DO? YOUR [passion]?”  “Yeah.” A laugh ripped from his chest, his head lolling back with each chuckle. I felt my soul began to crack, a shame flooding my body with how hard he seemed to laugh. Did he find this funny? Humorous?  I felt tears prick my eyes as I snapped my head back to glare at him, his head glitching back to stare back at me. “YOU’RE JUST LIKE ME, JENNA. A [slime] A REAL [slime]!” With a quick motion the puppet jumped to the ground, his hand resting against my arm as he spoke.  “YOU’RE A REAL [BIG SHOT] YOU KNOW THAT? STAY AS LONG AS YOUR [Greasy little heart] DESIRES!” Well... that was unexpected. He’d really let me stay here as long as I want cause I was pathetic? Or did he just feel sorry for me? What was going on? And why was he calling me a slime... or us a slime?  “Oh... uh thanks? I didn’t think I was being  much of a big shot whatever that is but I apricate it. Really.” His head clacked with every little nod, leading me to a pile of cardboard boxes and patting them with the grace of a car salesman. “BEST [Seat in the house] ALL FOR YOU. [Night night forever]!” Spamton beamed, awkwardly swaying side to side before stumbling back to the dumpster a few inches away and crawling inside of it, much like a wild animal. I couldn’t help but laugh a little. This guy was weird. Kinda creepy but also kind of funny. I honestly couldn’t pinpoint a feeling on him but at least he didn’t want to hurt me just make weird ass deals and make me ‘big’. Did that mean famous? Was this guy so into my art he wanted to be some sort of manager? I rubbed my eyes and let out a yawn, the excitement of the day finally beginning to fade. God I forgot how tired I was, that little guy made me feel like I was gonna go into fight or flight.  “Hey Spamton?” “YES?” his voice echoed from inside the metal container. “...Thank you.”