#there's a lot of heavy shit here that I need to sort out...
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wombywoo · 6 months ago
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13 and 14 please for the beloved boys?
(.maybe we'll learn why Quinn's mom and aunt can't look him in the eyes 👀👀)
13) Does your OC have a good relationship with their parents or no?
A very complicated question, for both 🤌
As a kid, Quinn had a fairly normal relationship with his parents. He'd always found his dad a bit odd and lame, but he was very close with his mother. Then [redacted] things happened and that all changed 🙃 (nope, I'm not gonna reveal this stuff yet because reasons) but yeah--after that, his relationship became, ah...very strained. Currently, he's been trying and failing to reconnect with his father, but they don't really have much in common and it's all a bit awkward. His dad still tries to make an effort though. As for his mum--he hasn't spoken to her in years 🤐
Vincent had a similar bond with his mother. She was quite a reserved woman, and rarely spoke up in a public setting, but she was far more energetic and loving behind closed doors. Due to the prejudices of the time, they were often shunned or blatantly discriminated against (Vincent's own paternal grandparents refused to acknowledge either of their existences), so having such a close connection meant they could protect each other, in a way. Conversely, Vincent didn't have much of a relationship with his father. He was a cold, austere man, often too busy with work to be around. Vincent always assumed his father hated him, tbh, even though he made strides to put him in all the best schools and social circles, despite the obvious racism and intolerance of his contemporaries. He'd even been the one to pull strings and demand his enrollment into flight school, something that had been unprecedented for black people at the time. But in spite of all those sacrifices, they never bonded, or even spoke at all outside of forced propriety.
14) What about any siblings, do they have any and is their relationship good?
Quinn has a sister, Nora, who's older than him by a few years. They pretty much had a typical sibling dynamic in their youth--petty fighting, Quinn being a little shit, Nora trying to boss him around, etc. After 'certain incidents', she became far more protective of him. There was a lot of guilt there, and Nora felt like she failed him and will always blame herself for not protecting him. As adults, their relationship is a bit forced. Quinn had been distant for a few years, not making any attempt to be around his family, so they're almost strangers now. In recent years, Nora got married and now has a step-son. She's been trying to get Quinn to connect more, wanting him to open up to the kid, but it's been awkward and ineffective for the most part. I like to think that things will get better eventually...
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kamiversee · 7 months ago
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Sharing Is Caring ꨄ (part 1/3)
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[ { Synopsis } ] ➤ Sure, your boyfriend Choso gets jealous from time to time but that doesn’t mean you have the right to put him on sex-ban. Hence why he’ll show you he actually has no issues with sharing you (with a certain person).
[ { Need to know } ] ➤This is a What-If scenario that stems from my fic; The F*ck List— A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt.
[ { Content & Warning } ] ➤ f!reader, lots of teasing and taunting, language, heavy sexual tension, buildup to a threesome, & two guys who are completely infatuated with you ^.^
[ { Parings } ] ➤ Choso x f!reader & Gojo x f!reader.
[ { Word Count } ] ➤ 6.7k
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“Oh my god Choso, shut up,” You whined, brows tense and eyes narrowed at your boyfriend who you’ve been arguing with for the past twenty minutes.
Choso scoffs, “Excuse me?” He tests, trying to see if he really heard what you just said to him, “Wanna repeat that f’me?”
With an annoyed roll of your eyes, “I said shut up. You just got home and you’re already starting up with this shit again. Choso, I’m not taking you off of sex-ban.”
Dating Choso is… an experience, to say the least. Sure, he’s a wonderful boyfriend and overall the perfect man for you but, that doesn’t mean you two don’t have your arguments or periods of being upset with one another.
Again, he’s amazing and all but there are times like now where you and him really get into it. He’s stressed out and you’re frustrated— both of which don’t make the best combination.
You’re standing by his living room couch watching him tug off his jacket. Choso’s face is ticked off but he won’t stop looking at you. As for you, your eyes are everywhere else except for his.
“Baby, it’s been three weeks. Three,” He emphasizes, “I can go without sex perfectly fine but you barely even touch me now.”
“Well this is what you get for being an overly jealous boyfriend,” You say with a scoff.
Choso cocks his head to the side and his eyes narrow, “What was I supposed to do that day, huh? Just sit there and watch some guy openly flirt with you like I’m not standing right next to you?”
“You’re being dramatic,” You tell him bluntly, arms crossing over one another, “I told you numerous times before, that if you kept up the jealous act I’d put you on sex-ban, and now; here we are and you’re complaining about it.”
“It’s not the sex-ban, baby. Did you even hear what I just said?” Choso asks. He then takes a single step closer to where you are, “You don’t touch me, hug me, or even kiss me as much anymore and it’s been three weeks.”
A nonchalant little shrug is given to him, “Maybe if you didn’t scold your girlfriend for someone else’s actions, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now-“
“I already apologized for that so I don’t understand why I’m not receiving any sort of affection from you,” Choso cuts off. As he nears you, his hand goes down to his belt and he starts to unbuckle it, clearly unwinding after his long day of work.
Your eyes just barely glance over to him and down at his hands fumbling with his belt. Then, you scan your boyfriend up and down and mentally curse yourself for being upset with him right now because fuck is he too attractive for his own good.
You swallow thickly and lift your gaze to his face, only to meet his eyes already on yours. For a moment, you maintain eye contact but then, you glance off to the side again, “Because all sorts of affection always lead to something more and I banned you from sex for a reason,” You explain with a sigh.
“Yeah well, how long do I have to go through this hell, huh?” He asks, tone stern and aggravated with you.
“Hell?” You scoff, “Choso you know there are other things to our relationship outside of sex-“
“Clearly you’re not hearin’ me,” He cuts off yet again, shaking his head at you as he tugs his belt off and walks even closer to you.
Unconsciously, you take a step back and Choso kisses his teeth as you do so before he tosses his belt on the couch along with the jacket he recently took off.
With a long sigh, Choso brings a hand up to his face and wipes it, as if that’ll help him focus his thoughts. Then, he voices out your name and you tense up a little, “It’s not about the sex,” He says yet again, slowly turning his head to you, “You don’t touch me anymore. Do you know how depriving that is?”
You shrug again, “It’s not the first time you’ve gone without my touch Choso, get over it-“
“Baby you practically live with me now,” He interrupts, “I wake up in the same bed as you almost every morning and when I try to hug you, you’re pulling away from me.”
“Again, every touch leads to something else,” You repeat, frustrated with your boyfriend and how he’s making such a big deal out of this.
Choso’s eyes narrow and a vein pops out in his forehead, “Do you think I lack that much self-control? If you put me on sex-ban then you put me on sex-ban. I have enough restraint to respect that, princess.”
You release a huff, “Okay, well-“
“Well what?” He cuts off impatiently.
Your face twists up, “Well if you’d let me—,” You blink and notice how close he’s gotten to you, your head angling up just a bit to make eye contact with him as he stands hardly an inch away from you. God, he smells good, “F-Finish…” You gulp, “I-I’m not an idiot Choso, you and I both know that self-control or no, when you’re pent up, you get more needy and I always let you have your way.”
“Are you listening to anything I’m saying to you?” Choso asks, head tipping to the side for a moment before he’s leaning down to you, “No seriously, are you rendering the words coming out of my mouth, love?” He asks almost in a way that makes you feel small.
A scowl washes over your expression as your eyes meet his once more, “Yes I’m rendering the words coming out of your mouth, Choso. Are you comprehending anything I’m saying to you?”
“I am.” He hums.
“Okay then why are we still having this conversation?” You ask in a dull tone, voice a bit softer now that he’s all close to you.
Choso cracks a little smirk but he still sounds annoyed, “Because you haven’t laid a finger on me in five days.”
“Choso-“
“That’s a hundred and twenty hours without a single touch from you,” He explains, eyes boring into yours.
Your brows raise and you snicker, “You can’t be serious-“
“It’s been seven days since I last felt your arms around me,” He continues, his body inching closer to your own.
You don’t move away this time and simply keep your eyes directly on his, “Why are you keeping track?”
“Sixteen days since you last kissed me,” Choso recalls, his voice getting lower.
“Oh come on-“
His hand is suddenly placed on your waist and he tugs your body up against his, “And three weeks since we’ve had sex.”
Your breath hitches a bit as your chest clashes with his and you keep your arms and hands everywhere except on him, pretty much proving all the points he just made.
Were you really trying not to touch Choso for the past three weeks? Yes. Is that because you’re worried about him getting carried away? No, you’re worried about you getting carried away. You know Choso has self-control but, it’s you who lacks it sometimes.
Swallowing hard, “Choso…” You murmur carefully.
“Baby I’m starved,” He nearly groans out, both his arms wrapping around your waist while his face inclines toward your own, “I need something from you-, anything.”
You bite down on your lower lip and stare at your boyfriend’s face. He’s so close to you, so desperate for you— it was cute how needy he was.
Purposefully, you lean closer to him and his eyes sink to your lips immediately as they nearly press into his own. Then, you stop a hair away from him, teasing him-, torturing him, “Not until you fix your jealousy issue,” You whisper to the man.
Oh Choso’s losing his mind right now. The urge he has to just press his lips into your plush ones is simply killing him. The arms around your waist tighten and his eyes are pleading with you.
“Baby please?” Choso begs, voice laced with the faintest whine.
You nearly folded at the sound of his begging. Hell, your eyelids began to lower and you wanted to kiss him just as badly as he wanted a kiss from you. You know just one won’t hurt but the fact that it’s been three weeks worries you.
He’s not the only one all pent up and starved, nor does he have any idea how horny you’ve been the past few weeks.
There was a day he came home from the gym and you watched him snatch his sweaty shirt off his body. You swore you were drooling for your boyfriend at the time because he’d been working out excessively just for you.
That was the last day you ended up kissing Choso because as soon as he went and showered, you were all over him. It was hard to control yourself when he smelled so good and his hair was all loose and damp with water— soft groans leaving his throat every time you pressed your lips to his jaw.
You’d be lying if you said you weren’t considering eating him up that day. But, you managed to get ahold of yourself at the time and just barely pried your body away from his.
As of right now on the other hand… Your hands are carefully lifting to his arms, gently feeling his muscles through his clothes as your faces remain close to one another.
You wanted to kiss him so badly. It won’t hurt, right?
Slowly, your arms lift up even more and soon wrap around his neck— to which Choso’s breathing picks up and his heart rate increases. The smallest touches from you were already driving him crazy and his hands began to explore your back a little.
“Just one,” You whisper to the man, “One kiss, okay?”
Choso’s nodding eagerly, “Okay.”
The two of you are leaning in, anticipation bubbling in the pits of both of your stomachs as your lips gaze his and he gets the faintest touch of your skin— only to be interrupted by the sudden buzzing of your phone in your pocket.
You pull away and glance down and Choso swears his eye twitches. He was so close, he almost felt your lips again, your pretty soft and heaven-sent lips almost touched his, and yet someone had the nerve to interrupt.
Choso groans and you try to reach in your pocket for your phone but he suddenly smacks your hand away and reaches in your pocket himself.
You frown, “Choso-“
“Who’s callin’ us?” He cuts off. He sounds more pissed off than he was earlier.
The second his eyes lay on the contact written across your screen, he scoffs. The timing couldn’t have been better.
You move to try and see what he’s looking at but Choso shifts his hand on you and pushes your body away.
“Choso what the hell? Who’s calling-“
“You said I’ve been too jealous of a boyfriend, right?” Choso interrupts, his lips curving into a faint smirk before he lifts his gaze to you.
You nod slowly and wearily, “Y-Yeah, but what does that have to do with whoever’s calling m-“
“I’ll answer it for you, baby,” Choso says sweetly before flashing you a smile.
Your brows pinch together and you blink, “Who is it-“
He ignores your question and lifts the phone to his ear, “Hello?”
Someone speaks back to him but you’ve got no idea who.
“Ohhh, you called on accident? Yeah, no, I get that, happens to the best of us,” Choso hums with a shrug.
He seems all too calm and casual about this so you’re mentally trying to figure out who the hell could’ve called you to where your boyfriend is talking so calmly.
You just stand and watch in confusion for a minute as he continues his conversation.
“Yeah, that’s me,” Choso chuckles a bit but there’s a slight vein peeping against his jawline, “Nah man you’re fine. Actually, since I’ve got you on the phone, can I ask you somethin’?”
Your eyes widen and your heart is beating all over the damn place. Slowly, you try to get closer to your boyfriend, “Choso, who-“
He cuts you off by placing a single finger to your lips, quite literally shushing you. You’re taken back by his action and ticked off by his rude gesture.
“You used to fuck my girlfriend, right?” The man questions bluntly. Your entire face gets hot and you’re not sure if that’s because you’re pissed off or because you’re flustered.
Who the hell could he be talking to? Suguru? No, Choso doesn’t get along with him that well… Who else has your number that you’ve-
Gojo.
Your eyes go wide and you move to reach for your phone and snatch it from Choso’s hand but he swiftly and smoothly evades your attempt, mockingly scoffing at you.
“Choso what the hell is wrong with you? Give me my phone-“
Your boyfriend smiles at you. He finds entertainment in how ticked off you are and it only makes you angrier. Especially when he shakes his head no and moves away from you.
Then he has the nerve to laugh, “Yes, I do know the answer to that already. But my question still stands and I’d like to hear it from you since I have you on the phone,” Choso speaks.
You’re still following him around and trying to get your phone from him but he just moves and weaves all of your reaches.
“Yeahh see? There’s the confidence I was lookin’ for,” He says to the male over the phone, “So…” Choso makes eye contact with you and your heart sinks as his words come out, “Wanna do it again?”
The man on the call chokes on air so loudly that even you hear it despite not being near the phone. Then you hear a nervous chuckle, one that’s all too familiar to you.
You fold your arms at your boyfriend, who simply winks at you. “Choso, what are you-“
“Shut up,” He says to you sternly, “You said I’m too jealous of a boyfriend so now I’m trying to change that.”
“By being a fuckin’ asshole?” You spit out to him, both confused and annoyed by everything right now.
“No,” Choso negates, smiling sweetly at you again, “By calling someone over to please my pretty lil’ girlfriend since she won’t let me do it.”
You blink, “What? Choso-“
“Huh? What was that?” He interrupts, his attention back on the phone call, “Yes I was being serious. I-, oh…” His expression dips a little, “T-There’s a word for that kinda thing?”
You wish you could hear the entirety of this conversation because you’re so confused as to where this is going.
“Ohhh, then yeah,” Choso nods his head and looks at you with a smile, “I guess you could call me that—,” Something is said over the phone and he laughs, “What? No, she doesn’t know. Or, she didn’t know but, she’ll find out soon enough right?”
“Find out what soon enough-,” He starts walking away from you and you move to follow him, “Choso!”
You’re ignored as his conversation continues and eventually, Choso walks into his bedroom, shuts the door in your face, and locks it.
You stand there for a while staring at the door in disbelief of your boyfriend. What the hell just happened? What the actual fuck is going on??
You go to knock on the door, “Choso, open the door!” You shout.
The sound of him still chatting it up with Gojo over the phone is heard and you’re feeling all too many emotions at once. From annoyance to anger to confusion and even very faint arousal, you were completely baffled.
Another groan pours from your lips and after beating your hand against the door for maybe five minutes or so, awaiting some kind of response from your boyfriend, you just give up and stomp off.
Annoyed beyond belief, you make your way back into the living room, grab his things, and toss them onto the floor before plopping down on the couch.
You hastily grab the nearby remote and press play on the TV, bringing your thumb to your lip and chewing on your nail a bit as you try to distract yourself from whatever the fuck your lovely boyfriend is talking about with Gojo Satrou.
Somewhere deep down, you think you’re thankful Gojo called when he did because you almost kissed Choso again and you knew you’d let him take things further if he wanted to. If Choso thinks he’s deprived, he’s got another thing coming because you’ve been aching for it.
Doesn’t he know it’s just as difficult for you not to touch him as it is for him not to be touched? Does he not realize how much of a tease he can be? How in the middle of the night, he’d snuggle into your back and his crotch would press into your ass? Waking you up horny and frustrated?
You scoff. Choso doesn’t even realize how whenever he comes home from his job, he looks so stupidly handsome undressing himself— slight grunts and groans leaving those soft lips of his as he does so.
Then, even when you were hugging him, he’d bury his face into the crook of your neck and his every exhale and inhale made your heart skip a beat.
Oh and let’s not forget how simple phone calls and text messages were enough to get you worked up. It’d be so random too how Choso would text you as you’re in class. Something simple like Baby I miss you would have your heart throbbing and your smile unwavering.
There was one weekend where Choso left town to go visit his two younger brothers and he called you late that night. His voice was deep, husked even, and his breathing was a bit unsteady as he told you he was trying to go to sleep but he couldn’t because he started thinking about you…
Thus leading to him with a painful boner. Then, to make matters worse, not only did he end up sending you a video of what you do to him even when you’re not around but, he had the nerve to return home that week looking fucking perfect.
His face had seemed clearer, his skin was as smooth as ever, he smelled heavenly, and of course— of course Choso decided to come home and touch all over your body, claiming to have missed you terribly.
He was such a fucking tease. And he knows it too, Choso knows what he does to you. He sees it in your face all the time— hears it in your voice.
Which is all exactly why he couldn’t bear with you reducing your touches. That’s what caused the argument today as he came home.
Normally, if you were at Choso’s apartment when he got off of work, which you have been more-so in the past few months, you’d rush to him and greet him at his door. Before the sex-ban, you’d help him undress and smother his face in kiss after kiss, telling him how much you missed him, etc.
And of course he appreciated this more than anything. Hence why he’d constantly note that because you do little things like that, he swears to put a ring on your finger if you’d let him.
Even so, ever since you told Choso you weren’t gonna have sex with him for a while, you stopped doing so. Which is all why he’s upset and you’re frustrated. Maybe you should just drop the sex-ban…
Or maybe just touch him more like he wants and learn some self-control. But, it’s not like it’s your fault your boyfriend is so irresistible. How are you supposed to keep your hands off him-
There’s a sudden knock on the front door and you flinch out of your thoughts. You’d been so caught up with them that you hadn’t even realized thirty minutes had gone by and you still didn’t have your phone, nor did Choso come out of his room.
Instead of moving a muscle, you groan, “Cho, someone’s at the door!”
There’s no response for a minute and your groan deepens as you toss your head back against the couch and frown.
“Choso!” You shout, voice projecting throughout his apartment.
“What?!” He shouts back from his bedroom.
You turn your head toward the direction of his hallway, “There’s someone at the door!”
Neither of you has moved an inch and both of you are just shouting across his home, “You can’t answer it?” He asks.
“You’re closer!” You argue.
Choso chuckles and then his voice gets a bit louder as he cracks his door open to yell, “It’s for you anyway!”
“I-,” You blink and then let off a scoff as you spring up from the couch, “Tch, it’s for you anyway…” You say under your breath, mocking your boyfriend in an annoyed tone.
Everything he was doing was pissing you off and you had half a mind to head back to your apartment. Every step you took was heavy and you wanted Choso to hear how agitated you were.
“Can’t even answer the fuckin’ door…” You grumble to yourself as your hand reaches for the knob, unlocks the door, and goes to open it, “…Getting on my goddamn-,” You swing the door open and your eyes immediately widen, “…N-Nerves,” You whisper out to finish your statement.
In front of you stands Gojo Satoru. All six foot three of him, bright fluffy white hair, black t-shirt, grey sweatpants, angelically handsome face, and stupid rose-tinted lips pulled into a smug grin standing right in front of you.
You had to blink once, maybe twice-, perhaps three or four times to figure out if you were seeing things before you scoff, “Satoru?”
Cocking his head to the side, “Trouble in paradise?” Gojo comments in response, voice just as playful as you remember it.
“W-What the fuck are you doing here?” You breathe out, brows tensing and confusion taking over.
Gojo’s shoulders lift into a casual shrug, “I was invited, duh.”
You stare. Then, slowly and carefully, you start nodding as you move to shut the door on him. Maybe you were dreaming?
A hand is pressed to the edge of the door, an arm nearing your head as this hand comes from behind you, and the door is pulled open. You instantly jump as your boyfriend seemed to have simply appeared right behind you and you swear your heart was pounding out of your chest.
Lips near your ear and Choso’s voice is smooth as he speaks to you, “C’mon baby, don’t be rude to our guest,” He murmurs to you, deep voice caressing your eardrums and making you lose all your thoughts for a moment.
You quickly snap out of it and whirl your head around to look at the dark-haired man, “Choso, what the hell is going on-“
“Oh c’monnn,” Gojo suddenly speaks, “You heard your boyfriend,” He chuckles and you turn to him, eyes going wide as he leans down to you, “Don’t be rude to your guest,” Gojo murmurs.
He was so close that you could smell the faint mint coming from his mouth. His proximity worried you and you stepped back, only to run into Choso and your entire backside to bump into him. Your boyfriend places a hand on your waist and tugs you back a bit to give space for Gojo to walk in.
Never in your life have you been more confused than you are as you watch Gojo Satoru enter your boyfriend Choso’s apartment.
Then, Choso leans over just a little so that he can shut the door but he doesn’t move from behind you. Your eyes are all over Gojo’s face, asking him a million questions with your gaze alone.
Gojo starts snickering, “Sweets, if you have a question, just ask-“
“What the fuck are you doing here?” You blurt out, tone heated before you proceed to give him no time to respond. You’re then turning to Choso, “What the hell is going on?”
Your boyfriend stares at you innocently, “Isn’t it obvious?”
“Yeah, you’re a smart girl, you can figure it out,” Gojo chastises.
You swear you’re about two seconds away from popping a blood vessel. An arm of yours moves to shove Choso away from you and you scoff, “First off, fuck both of you. Start explaining yourselves, now.” You huff out sternly.
Choso flashes a sheepish grin, “I already explained everything to you, why are you confused-“
“You were being serious?!” You shout, “You seriously called Satoru over to fuck me?! What the hell is wrong with you?”
“You said I was too jealous of a boyfriend so I invited him to prove to you that I’m not,” Choso tells you, the look on his face completely serious.
You couldn’t believe him right now. Not only were you feeling embarrassed having Gojo stand here and listen to you and Choso bicker like an old married couple but you were also fuming with your boyfriend.
“W-What?!” You huff out.
Choso gives you this blank stare he knows pisses you off, “I don’t understand why you’re confused.”
“You don’t understand why I’m-,” You cut yourself off with a sigh and move to pinch the bridge of your nose with your fingers, “Choso Kamo, this is the kinda thing you talk about with your girlfriend beforehand.”
“Are we not talking about it now?” He argues, moving to fold his arms across his chest and tilt his head.
You glare at him for a moment before glancing back to Gojo. Then, you chuckle in an annoyed manner, “We shouldn’t be talking about this in front of… him.”
“Him?” Gojo pouts, “Hey, I have a name y’know-“
“Satoru shut the hell up. You will be dealt with, just give me a moment,” You cut off warningly. Turning back to look at Choso, “As for you, I don’t know what the hell’s gotten into you but we’re not doing this.”
Choso raises a brow, “Not doing what baby?”
“I’m not about to…” Your face twists up in disapproval, “…To cheat on you just so you can prove some stupid point-“
“Why not?” Your boyfriend asks nonchalantly.
“What do you mean why not? Choso what even possessed you to invite Satoru over?”
“I literally told you why already,” He says bluntly, “I wanna prove I’m not the jealous dickhead you keep making me out to be.”
Your brows raise, “And you wanna prove that by making me have sex with another man in front of you?”
“First off, I’m not gonna make you do anything,” Choso clarifies, “Secondly, yes, I do want you to have sex with another guy just to prove a point.”
“You’re crazy. I mean, Cho, you can’t be serious about this-,” You cut yourself off as you just barely glance down— spotting something that makes you eat your words. “Oh… Oh wow. You-, you’re…” You stammer as your lashes bat in disbelief.
Choso scoffs, “Yeahh… Still don’t believe me?”
“Why’re you…” Your brows furrow as you stare at the bulge in your boyfriend’s sweats, “D-Did just the thought of me and Satoru having sex in front of you get you like that?” You ask softly as you point.
Gojo suddenly pops his head over your shoulder and you flinch as he speaks, “Damnnnn, you seriously are a cuck,” He chuckles out.
Then his hands slither onto your waist and your entire body tenses up. Swallowing, you turn your head to Gojo and glare at him, “Don’t touch me.”
Blue eyes meet yours and he smirks, peeling his hands off your body but keeping his face close, “He wants me to.”
“Well, I don’t. I haven’t agreed to any of this yet-“
“Yet?” Both of the men point out in sync.
You swallow, “I-I mean, I… I wish you two would’ve given me some time to… t-to y’know, wrap my head around this,” You stammer out.
Having your stupidly attractive boyfriend and the annoyingly handsome Gojo Satoru in the same room, both taunting and teasing you was unbearably nerve-wracking.
Slowly, you look over to your boyfriend, “You really want me to-“
“Yes baby,” Choso cuts off.
“What’s even in this for you… aside from,” Your eyes narrow down at his boner, “A-Aside from getting off to this twisted fantasy of yours?”
He snickers, “Uh, I’ll be off of sex-ban after this.”
Your brows pinch together and you fold your arms, “Says who?”
“Baby, the point of the sex-ban was to teach me a lesson about bein’ jealous,” Choso explains, stepping closer to you. Your body was steadily heating up since Gojo was right behind you and Choso was nearing you, “Consider this my lesson learned.”
You scoff, “…Even if I did agree to this…” Slowly, you turn back to Gojo and his face is far closer than you anticipated it to be, his lips nearly on yours as your head turned, “A-Are you seriously okay with this, Cho?”
Gojo’s hands are placed onto your waist yet again but this time, you don’t push him off or tell him to move. You stare into those pretty blue eyes of his and watch as he smiles.
“He’s more okay with this than you think,” Gojo murmurs to you, tilting his head in a way that makes it seem like he was readying himself to kiss you.
You stare at Gojo for a second longer than you mean to before turning to look at your boyfriend once more and god damn his pupils are dilated and you swear his cock has doubled in size beneath his clothes.
Oh he was extremely serious about this.
Choso chuckles, “I can’t exactly fake my dick bein’ hard, can I? What more proof about this do you need to see I’m serious?”
“S-So… if I sleep with Gojo… you want the sex-ban to be over?” You ask for clarification as you glance back and forth between Choso’s left and right eyes.
“Mhm,” He nods at you, “And my point will be proved.”
“Right…” You look at Gojo again and his lips are a hair’s length away from yours at this point, “A-And you… you’re okay with this?”
“What kinda’ question is that?” The white-haired man laughs, “In what universe would I pass up the opportunity to fuck you again?”
You frown a little but, you’re no longer shying away from this, “Satoru… T-This is so wrong-“
“Is it any more wrong than the things I’ve had you do before?” He whispers lowly to you, low enough for Choso to miss what he uttered.
You swallow thickly at his words, “W-Well… yes, yes it is. I’m cheating on-“
“Is it really cheating if he wants you to do it?” Gojo argues.
You pout, “Yes-“
“No, no it’s not,” He interrupts while flashing a comforting smile at you.
“Satoru-“
“Can you two stop arguing and just make out already,” Choso groans, “I’m gonna blow my load before we even get to the good part…”
Gojo chuckles and lifts a careful hand to the side of your face, cupping your cheek in his palm as he pulls you close, “Well, sweetheart? Your boyfriend’s gettin’ needy.”
You shake your head slowly and your gaze falls to Gojo’s lips, “…This is so wrong.”
“Yeah,” Gojo murmurs back before pecking your lips, you sigh immediately and Gojo whispers against you, “But he likes it.”
There’s one last lingering look shared between you and Gojo before he gently presses his lips to yours again, feeling as you sigh against him and just barely ease into this. After all, it was different and weird to kiss someone who wasn’t your boyfriend after a wonderful ten months of dating him.
There are a lot of things you could’ve predicted in your future with Choso but this damn sure wasn’t a part of it. No, making out with Gojo Satoru as Choso just watches the two of you was not something you could’ve ever planned for.
Gojo’s taking things slow, melting into your mouth and steadily parting your lips to push his tongue inside as you hum against him. Choso was losing his mind. Yeah, from the second he saw the way Gojo looked at you, his cock sprung up.
Did he understand why? Not exactly, no. Hell, only about forty-five minutes ago did Choso learn of the word cuck and what it means to be one. He’s watching you and Gojo make out for a little bit before his feet move toward the two of you.
Choso nor Gojo miss the way you moan against Gojo’s lips as Choso presses his own into your neck. Oh. You were about to experience both of these men at the same time? Gojo and Choso. Gojo Satoru and Choso Kamo. To what being must you thank for such a heavenly experience? Your possessive boyfriend and your obsessive ex-lover (if you can even call him that).
Your boyfriend begins to suck on the side of your neck as you hum and squirm in between the two men. Gojo’s got his large hands firmly placed on your waist and you whine into his mouth as Choso moves to kiss under your jaw. With Gojo behind you and Choso now in front of you, you couldn’t possibly wrap your head around the fact that you were being sandwiched between these two men.
Handling either of them one at a time was already too much for you and yet here you were having to deal with both. You feel Gojo’s clothed cock press into your ass and he groans into your mouth before pulling away, both of you making low-lidded eye contact.
“Satoru,” You whisper.
He hums, “Shit-, this is hotter than I thought it’d be.”
Choso’s busy sucking at your neck before he pulls away with a loud pop, his breathing heavy against your skin as you grow hazy in lust. Then, he wipes his mouth off and takes a step back, “Baby…”
You turn your head to him with wide eyes, your lips prettily messy with saliva from Gojo’s tongue and fuck if Choso didn’t find you sexier than ever. Your brows raise innocently and he smirks at you.
“Can you do somethin’ f’me?” Choso hums out. You try moving toward him but Gojo tugs you back and Choso chuckles, “Don’t worry, I don’t want you to touch me yet,” Your boyfriend explains, “I want you to take care of our guest first, can you do that?”
Your eyes widen and you glance behind you and up at Gojo who flashes you a smile, “Yeah, can you take care of me, sweetheart?”
Gulping, you fein cluelessness, “T-Take care of you how…”
“Oh don’t act dumb,” Choso scoffs.
Gojo snickers, “Right, don’t act dumb…” He coos at you.
You pout and glance back over to your boyfriend, “I’m not actin’ dumb… I just want you guys to tell me what you want me to do…”
“Oh?” Choso raises a brow, “So you’re done actin’ like a brat now, huh?”
“I-I wasn’t acting like a brat earlier, you were just being an asshole,” You huff out before rolling your eyes and looking off to the side.
Gojo quirks a brow, “That’s no way to talk to your boyfriend, now is it?” He murmurs to you, causing a chill to slip down your spine.
“But…” Your lashes flutter, “He was being a fucking asshole-”
“You’ve got quite the mouth on ya’...” Gojo interrupts.
Choso suddenly nods, “Yeahh… She does, doesn’t she?” You swallow hard as your boyfriend voices his thoughts, “Why don’t you shut it up?” He suggests.
A hand is placed on your jaw and your face is tugged so that you’re looking at Gojo again, his fingers digging into your cheeks, “I should, shouldn’t I?” He teases, shifting to run his thumb over your lower lip, “She talks way too much anyway.”
“E-Excuse me-“
“She can’t talk when she’s got a mouth full of cock though,” Choso comments.
You swallow down whatever argument you were going to spit out to these two men.
Gojo smirks, “Good point…” He hums before slipping his thumb past your lips, “But, that’s probably what she wants anyway.”
“Think so?” Choso hums, smiling a little.
Gojo nods, “Know so.”
“Okay well, who are we to deny her of such a thing?” Your boyfriend shrugs casually.
“Exactly,” Gojo agrees before placing his attention back on you, “Is that what you want, love? Hm? S’that why you’ve been such a fuckin’ brat? Y’need someone to put you back in your place?”
Yet another pout pulls at your lips, “I wasn’t-“
“Aht, aht, none of that,” Gojo interjects, scoffing at you and finding your expression cute, “It’s yes or no, sweetheart.”
“Y-Yes,” You stammer in response.
He bites down on his lower lip, “Yeah?”
Before you can even nod, your boyfriend’s making your fluster state ten times worse, “Yes what, princess?”
“Yes please…” You whine.
“Be specific,” Choso demands, voice low, “C’mon, tell Satoru what you want.”
“I…” You gulp, “I want you to…”
“Aww don’t be shy, s’just me, sweets,” Gojo coos, his voice gentle.
You were losing your mind right now. Gojo being so careful with you while Choso forces you to voice your needs? Oh you’re not making it through the rest of this interaction, or at least, not in one piece and not mentally okay by the end of it.
“I want you to put me in my place ‘Toru,” You finally manage out.
Gojo hums deeply, “In front of your boyfriend? Seriously?” He teases as he moves the hands on your waist to spin you around. Then he tugs your body up against his, “You really are a lil’ slut, aren’t you?”
Your face twists up a little before you glance back to Choso who gives you a reassuring look— telling you through his eyes that this was okay.
After which, you look at Gojo again and nod, “Yeah.”
He chuckles before bending down a little and then lifting you into the air, your legs wrapped around him as he does so, “Well, if you insist. I guess I’ll have to start by punishing this mouth of yours for bein’ so mean to your boyfriend.”
You frown as you disagree with the claim of you being mean to Choso, “I-“
“Don’t act like that’s not what you’ve been wanting anyway,” Choso adds as he watches Gojo carry you past him. He trails behind the two of you, “I’ve seen the way you’ve been lookin’ at me lately, baby. You’ve been itchin’ to suck me off… Buuut since you put me on sex-ban, I guess that’ll have to do, right?”
You send the man a look and he smiles at you, completely obsessed with teasing you through this whole thing.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Choso hums as you, him, and Gojo enter the living room, “You said you’d take care of our guest first, remember?”
“Yeah, sweets,” Gojo chimes in— God the way they keep doing that is getting on your nerves-, “I can’t wait to put my cock down your throat.”
Okay, by this point, you were beyond pooling in your underwear and it doesn’t get any better as Gojo takes a seat on the couch with you sliding into his lap, his erection poking up against your cunt as you sit comfortably. Then there’s Choso who takes a seat not too far away from the two of you, his cock aching for some kind of attention.
One last time, you glance at your boyfriend, and then at Gojo, and then you sigh.
This was really about to happen-
There’s a soft tap to your ass by Gojo, “Don’t start zonin’ out now,” He hums.
Then Choso’s talking again, “Yeah baby, hurry up ‘nd get on your knees— I wanna see how well you suck another guy off.”
Yeah, this was about to be a long night…
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part two
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tags;
@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx
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rafey-baby · 14 days ago
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dealer!rafe can't keep his promises and she can't keep doing this...
c/w: mostly angst, yelling & arguing, dealer!rafe being kinda toxic
wc: 1.5k
inspired by this ask (sorry it took me forever but it's here now!)
part one
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Exhaustion weighs down Rafe’s shoulders when he finally clicks the front door shut; hoping his arrival won’t disturb his sweet angel he assumes is already buried safely under the covers and lost in some saccharine dream of hers.
However, when he kicks off his shoes and turns around, he notices her sleepy form standing in the hallway— clad in pajama bottoms and his favorite hoodie along with something akin to dissatisfaction flashing in her drowsy eyes.  
“Hey, baby. Did I wake you?” he asks as he pads over to her; greeting her with a gentle kiss on her cheekbone.  
“No, couldn’t really sleep. Was worried something happened cause you told me yesterday you were gonna be home in time for dinner,” the last part is drenched in accusation as she takes a step back.
“Shit, forgot to text you I wasn’t gonna make it, m’sorry,” his apologetic eyes flit over to her as he scratches at the back of his head.  
“Yeah. But then again, think I would’ve been more surprised if you actually had shown up when you promised,” her displeased tone is crystal clear and it forces a heavy sigh to leave his throat. 
“Okay, I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend recently, but there’s just been a lot of shit going on with the business and—”  
“It’s always gonna be about that with you, isn’t it? Like why would you even care about my feelings when you’ve got the fucking money and the drugs, right?” she nearly snaps; drained from the constant lies and excuses that make her feel like he’s never going to put her first.  
“What do you— what do you mean? Of course, I care about your feelings, why would you even say that? And you’re more important to me than all that other shit, okay?” there’s a furrow between his brows when he tries to comprehend what sort of a train this conversation is traveling on.  
“I mean, do you even know how anxious I get whenever you come home late? When you don’t answer my calls? I— sometimes I think you’re…dead, okay? Do you know how exhausting that is?” she says with her face contorted in frustration due to the endless nights she’s spent thinking the worst and wondering why he could never keep his word.  
“I’ve told you so many times that you don’t need to worry so much, nothing bad s’gonna happen,” he tries to reassure her but she merely shakes her head and rubs a hand over her face. 
“But I do, cause it’s not something I can just turn off. And all you do is make these promises that you never keep and I just…I don’t know if I can do this anymore,” her watery eyes stare up at him in despair, making him frown. 
“What are you talking about? You know I can take care of myself, I promise—” 
“But that’s the thing, I don’t trust your promises anymore! You say you’re gonna do one thing, but then you get a call from Barry or whoever and you’re gone. Sometimes, you come back days later and that entire time you barely even text me!” her distressed voice is loud when she begins to pace around the hall. 
“Hey, hey, c’mere, yeah?” he tries to placate her by pulling her flush against his chest for a hug that, despite her protests, she melts into. “Listen, I know my job isn’t always…ideal, but you— you knew that when we met, right?” he tries to reason along with a comforting squeeze to her waist.  
“I just— I guess I didn’t realize it was gonna be this hard. I’ve never dated someone whose job is illegal,” she mumbles into his shirt before reluctantly withdrawing from the solace of his arms to get her point across.  
“But when we started this, you also promised this wasn’t gonna affect my life. But wanna know what happened the other day when I was out with my friends? This creepy guy approached me and said he wanted his money, and if he wasn’t getting it soon, he was gonna find another payment method.”  
“What the fuck? Did he— he didn’t hurt you, right?” he halts his movements while awaiting her answer with bated breath.  
“No, but it was really fucking scary,” she mutters out as she recalls how shaken up by the whole scene she’d been. However, when she’d dialed Rafe’s number with trembling fingers, the call had merely went into voicemail since he was apparently too busy to answer, as always.  
“I swear he’s never gonna so much as look at you again, alright? You remember what he looked like?” he asks while tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, followed by his thumb petting at the apple of her cheek with his concerned eyes flickering over her face. 
“Um…dirty hair, crazy eyes and this scar on his lip?” it’s easy to describe the guy’s appearance when the picture is permanently burned to her memory.  
“That piece of shit— we already had an agreement on the fucking money. Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?” a crease forms between his brows.
“Cause you’re never home!” she yells at him when her protracted emotional turmoil finally boils over the edge; saturating their entire relationship in the process.  
“I was home yesterday and I’m home right now!” he matches her volume while his fingers tug at the roots of his bleached hair.  
“Well, it’s not enough for me! And I just think that all of this is…too much, okay? I can’t— I can’t live like this anymore,” she admits with a forlorn tone.  
He pauses.
“What are you saying? You’re…you’re leaving me?” he narrows his eyes in disbelief.  
“I don’t know, I just�� think I need some time,” she murmurs out.  
“Time for what?” he seems perplexed by the entire concept of what she’s suggesting. 
“To think! All I’ve been able to think about these days is whether you’re alive or not, whether you’re even gonna make it home! And I’m fucking tired of this, okay?”
It’s clear that she’s upset and that these thoughts have been bouncing around her skull for quite some time now. If this is her attempt at breaking up with him though, he’s not going to allow for that to happen.  
“No, no,” he shakes his head. “Listen, I understand where you’re coming from, but you can’t just leave…no, okay? We’ll figure this shit out, yeah?” he tries to decipher what’s going on inside that head of hers with his gaze glued to her face— as if it’ll magically reveal all the answers he’s in a hopeless search for.
“I just— I don’t know if that’s possible.”  
“No, don’t say that. We’ll get through this like we always have,” he’s determined to change her mind, but she merely lets out a weary exhale. 
“Rafe, you’re not listening to me.” 
“I am! You’re just not thinking clearly. Why don’t we, uh, go to bed and tomorrow when we’re both well-rested we can talk about this better and—” 
“I don’t wanna talk about this tomorrow!” she huffs out, frustrated, making his distraught face crumple up as he tries to decide which way to approach this in order to not upset her more than he already has.
“Listen, listen. I’ll, uh, I’ll be better, okay? I’ll work less and—” 
“You always say that but— but you’re never gonna change! And I thought I could handle this, but I can’t,” she sounds defeated; rueful eyes flitting away from his pleading ones when teardrops begin to trickle down; dampening the skin of her cheeks.  
“No, you can’t— you can’t leave me. I need you. I love you,” his frantic rambles pour down his tongue when he takes her face into his callused palms— her eyes momentarily closing in response to his tender touch.  
“Rafe…please don’t make this any harder than it already is.” 
“And you love me too, yeah?” he doesn’t pay her resistance any mind. She notices how his own eyes grow glossy as well, even if he tries to blink away the liquid yearning to leak.  
“Of course I do,” she hums out; nodding her head that’s squished between his paws— heavy droplets soaking his palms.
“Then that’s all that matters. We can make this work,” his tone is definitive. 
“I just— I don’t know if we can,” she sniffles. 
“Don’t say shit like that. We can, okay? I’ll call Barry right now and tell him I need some time off with my girl, yeah? And we’ll figure this shit out.”  
At that, she lets out a melancholic sigh— resting her forehead on his chest when he pulls her flush against him with a consoling grip on her waist. The warmth of his body feels familiar; feels like home, but she’s already made her decision.  
He holds her close until they both travel to dreamland with their limbs tangled together, the steady rhythm of their breathing creating a muffled melody in their bedroom.  
However, when the amber rays of sunlight tickle his cheeks in the following morning, and he turns around to face her; he finds nothing more than her side of the bed bleak and desolate.
The entire house void of the only good thing in his life.
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itsbeeble · 11 months ago
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TRY HARD
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SUMMARY: Need to get rid of some junk? Well these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited time offer)
GENRE: smut, crack, fluff, minimal angst
PAIRING: Lee Juyeon x afab!reader (ft. sangyeon, sunwoo, and chanhee)
WC: 8.7k (oops)
SERIES MASTERLIST
PERM TAGLIST: @winterchimez @juyeonszn
18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED
WARNINGS: name calling (reader calls Juyeon stripper boy, baby, and pretty boy. Juyeon calls reader pretty girl), swearing, mentions of college parties, Y/N roasts Juyeon like a lot, Juyeon stops a door with his foot, one bed trope (for like two seconds), sunwoo slander (learning from Fawn <3) Juyeon is not god's strongest soldier, masturbation (m and kinda f), p in v sex, implied unprotected sex, restraints are used, dom!reader kinda, bratty!Juyo kinda, really poor attempts at humor, i think there's more but that covers the big stuff
A/N: This was NOT supposed to be almost 9k. It was supposed to be 3k at MOST but i will not lie i will prolly end up doing this again for most of the fics I'm putting out for this collab oops. Anywayyyyy let's kick off the collab with arguably my funniest fic.
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The first time you meet Lee Juyeon, you’re dressed in sleep shorts and the biggest sweatshirt in your closet. He’s standing at your door, and for a moment you can’t help but be confused by the fact that yes, there is a hot man in a white tank top and cargo pants leaning against your doorframe. And yes, he is, in fact, there for you and not the girls living down the hall from you. 
And, to be fair, it wasn’t your fault that you thought he was a stripper. Really, it wasn’t. It’s not every day that you see a guy with a body to die for and the face of an angel. 
“Are you some sort of stripper?” For a moment, the two of you are quiet. There’s a look of pure astonishment on his face that eventually turns into him fighting back a grin. 
“Do you want me to be?” His tongue brushes over his lower lip while he scans you up and down and you scoff. 
“No. The girls you’re probably looking for are down the hall, the last door on the right.” You begin to shut the door. “Have fun.” 
“Wait!” His foot catches in the door before you can slam it shut and you hear him swear loudly. “Shit, that did not feel good.” 
“Are you fucking stupid?” You swing the door open again, scowling at him. “Why would you try to catch this heavy ass door with your foot?” 
“I thought it would look cool!” He winces, one hand gripping your door frame and the other cradling his aching foot. “Like in the movies!”
“I don’t know if you know this…” you trail off, squinting at him and realizing you have no idea who this man is. “Stripper boy,—”
“Juyeon,” you can practically hear his teeth grinding as he speaks. You hum.
“Stripper boy,” you bob your head. “That’s what I’m gonna call you.”
“Please don’t—”
“Anyway,” you interrupt again. “I don’t know if you know this, but romance movies are fictional. Of course, it’s not gonna look like the prop door and they’re gonna catch it like it’s nothing. This, however,” you hit your fist against your door, “is solid metal. Not gonna feel good when you catch this shit, dumbass.”
“Whatever,” Juyeon rolls his eyes and straightens his body out. “I was just making my rounds across campus, wanted to see if you’d be interested in supporting your local fraternity.”
You raise an eyebrow, reaching your hand out to take the flier from his hand. 
College Hunks Hauling Junk!
Need to get rid of some junk? Well, these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited-time offer)
Scan HERE to book your appointment!
“College hunks hauling junk,” you can’t help but laugh at the name and take the flier from Juyeon’s hands. He grins at you. “People are actually paying you guys to haul their shit away?” 
He shrugs. “It’s free, technically. You’re allowed to donate, but we’re really just doing it for free. You know, help out fellow students and spread the word.” 
“You sure it wouldn’t be easier to just do some stripping if you can’t pay the rent?” You ask. “Also, what do you mean spread the word?” 
“I’m glad you asked.” Juyeon points a finger at the bottom of the flier, completely disregarding the first part of your sentence. Fuck, his hands are big.
This ad also doubles as your invitation to Tau Beta Zeta’s parties for the rest of the semester. Cash this in at any time and get into ANY parties for free! (Code word will be given at the time of flier being cashed in) (Girls get in for free, Guys $5 @ the door)
“We’re having a little competition with the sorority down the road from us,” Juyeon explains. “Whoever has more people by the end of the semester gets to host the end-of-the-year party and the other frat or sorority has to buy food and drinks.” 
You stare at the paper for a second, pondering your options. Then you smile, look up at the man that you are still pretty damn sure is a stripper, and hand back the flier. 
“I’m good, thanks.”
The door shuts, and you turn to go back to bed. The sound of paper sliding across the ground stops you, and you can see in the faint light that streams under your door that Juyeon slipped the flier into your room. 
Fucking try hard.
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The second time you see Lee Juyeon, he’s handing out fliers again. Only he isn’t walking around random apartment buildings with a weird seductive look that you honestly don’t doubt was working. This time, he’s in a hoodie and jeans and walking around the center of campus with people that you can only assume are his frat brothers. 
At first, you almost don’t recognize him, but then his eyes meet yours, and you can see the corners wrinkle when he smiles. Again, you’re confused. Is he smiling at you? 
Your head whips around, trying to find someone around you that he might be looking at, and when you turn around again, Juyeon is approaching you.
“Have you thought about it, pretty girl?” He asked and you stared at him dumbly for a moment. Did he just call you pretty girl? 
“Thought about what?” He holds up that flier again, placing it in your hands similarly to the other night. “Oh.”
“Did you think I was kidding?” He leans down slightly, keeping eye contact. Your free hand places itself on his chest— which you hadn’t realized before was very solid— and pushes him back. He barely moves. In fact, you are the one who gets pushed back. 
“Listen, stripper boy—”
“Juyeon—” 
“Stripper boy,” you mimic the exasperated tone he uses with you. “If I wanted an invitation to a stereotypical frat party with a bunch of drunk 20-somethings and cheap beer and bad pizza and try-hard men like yourself, I would’ve gone by now.” You fold up the flier, smoothing out the edges before holding it out to him. He doesn’t take it, and you can see the gears turning in his brain. 
“So what you’re saying,” he starts to smile and steps toward you again.”
“Stripper boy,” you warn.
“…is that there’s a chance?”
“Absolutely not, there is not a chance in hell that I’m gonna call some college hunks to haul junk out of my college apartment that I can barely afford to live in let alone pay you to take things out of.” Juyeon shrugs.
“Like I said, payment is optional and can come in…” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, “many different forms, pretty girl.”
“That’s gross, stripper boy.” You scrunch up your nose and he laughs. “Also, why are you calling me that?”
“Calling you what?” his smile only grows and you huff. 
“Pretty girl.”
“Because you are a pretty girl.” 
“No, I’m—” You catch yourself in the sentence when he leans forward onto the tips of his toes, ready to stop you. “You know what, fuck you. I know that was a dirty little trick and I’m not gonna fall for it just so you can swoop in and say something like oh nooo, don’t say that about yourself! You’re so pretty! And then you’ll tuck my hair behind my ear and you’ll try to kiss me and then—” You stop yourself again. Juyeon’s smile is almost scary at this point, stretching all the way across his face as if this had been his plan all along and you walked right into it. 
“And then…?” He teases. 
“…fuck you and your frat, stripper boy. God, you guys are such try-hards.”
You hold onto the flier this time, whether too embarrassed to give it back or genuine curiosity, you aren’t sure. You do know that you can’t stop the pounding in your chest, or the heat rising in your cheeks. 
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“Who was that?” Sunwoo slings an arm over Juyeon’s shoulder, both men watching you walk away with the flier held tightly in your hand. Juyeon smiles. 
“Just someone I know.” 
“Didn’t look like she was too happy to see you.” Sunwoo snickers and drops his arm down to stand straight. Juyeon turns to the younger man, the smile he had when standing with you now gone and replaced with a permanent scowl. 
“Who even asked you, Sunwoo?”
The younger raises his hands in defense. “I’m just saying! It looked like she hated you. Oooh, maybe you’re finally gonna get that enemies-to-lovers arc that Eric is always— WHOA, HEY—” Sunwoo nearly trips over himself trying to get away from Juyeon as the older frat brother swings his arm out in his direction. “Don’t hurt this pretty face! How else is the soccer team gonna get their funds?” A hand in the shape of a finger gun finds its way under Sunwoo’s chin, and the star soccer player smirks. 
“I think they’ll manage,” Juyeon swings his arm out again, wincing when Sunwoo lets out an ear-piercing squeal. 
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It’s like you’re seeing him everywhere. Every class you go to, it’s like he’s always there handing out fliers or chatting with his friends. And, unfortunately, every time you see him, he sees you too. He animatedly waves at you, calling your name or running over to you. Every time, you somehow end up with another flier to add to your collection.
For weeks you’ve been seeing him in places that you swear you’d never seen him in before. You swear that he’s not in your environmental course. You swear that he’s not in your sociology course. He just has to be following you. 
That, or you just have shitty luck with Lee Juyeon.
It must be bad luck, you think as you watch the fire department evacuate your flooded building. It must be, you tell yourself as you stand there in the pouring rain in pajama shorts and a sweater, sans an umbrella. There’s nothing else it could be.
Your eyes narrow at the sight of Juyeon standing near a group of girls with those damned fliers in one hand and some umbrellas around the wrist of the other. Your hands tighten around your arms, body shaking from the cold of the rain. Your lips twist into a deep frown when he approaches you, his eyebrows knit together and his lips pursed at the sight of you. His mouth opens to say something, and you hold your hand up to stop him. 
“Save it, stripper boy. I don’t want your fucking spiel right now.” His shoulders slump a little.
“I was just going to ask if you wanted an umbrella.” He holds one out, the last one on his arm. “You have to be freezing right now, and you’re absolutely soaked.” Your hand wraps around the umbrella, your eyes still narrowed with suspicion.
“Thanks…” he smiles and backs up to give you space to open it. You would never admit to his face that he was right. That you were freezing your ass off in this godforsaken weather. 
“Are you okay?” You look up at him, sniff, and shrug.
“I mean, my home is currently flooding which leaves me homeless for at least a few days. It’s piss-pouring rain out here, I’m in my pajamas with all my clothing inside the flooded building, and now here you are probably trying to get me to buy from your stupid fundraiser thing.” You take a deep breath, finally looking him in the eye. “So no, I don’t think I’m okay, Juyeon. Thanks for asking.” He’s quiet for a moment, and then a small smile breaks onto his face.
“I think that’s the first time you’ve called me Juyeon.” You bite your tongue and turn to walk away from him. “Wait, fuck, Y/N it was a joke. I’m sorry.” He grabs your arm, pulling you back to him. You can see a little bit of panic in his gaze. 
“Yeah, well it was a shitty joke.” You scoff. 
“I know, poor taste, I was just trying to lighten the mood.” He pulls his hand from your arm, and you almost feel bad. It’s quiet between you two, and you think that this is the first time it’s ever been completely silent. Well, save for the chatter of other tenants and incoming sirens and the yells of officers. 
“This fucking sucks,” you grumble, and Juyeon huffs out a laugh.
“Do you have anywhere that you go?” 
You shake your head. “Nah, none of my friends have space for another person in their apartment or dorm.” 
“You could stay with me.” He says it so fast, so suddenly, that you thought you misheard him at first. 
“Excuse me?” Juyeon clears his throat, his cheeks and ears flushing and you can’t tell if it’s from the cold or embarrassment. 
“I— I mean you— I’m just—” he stumbles over his words and you smile. 
“Is the Lee Juyeon embarrassed right now? In front of little ol’ me, nonetheless?” 
“I’m not embarrassed,” he snaps, pressing the back of one of his hands to his neck in a poor attempt to cool himself down. “I’m just— I—”
“Juyeon,” your hand comes up to his arm and he flinches. You let your arm drop down to your side. “Are you trying to ask me to stay with you while the building is being repaired?” 
You’re smiling at him, and it’s like that tiny action brings back all of his previous confidence. He’s smirking again, leaning down under the tiny umbrella he gave you. It’s your turn to blush now, but your eyes don’t leave his.
“Because,” your voice nearly betrays you. “That would be a little…odd…wouldn’t it? A girl living with, what, ten men? People would talk.” He hums.
“But they would also find it odd if I just…left you to live in your car for god knows how long, wouldn’t they?” His hand is on your waist, and the breath in your lungs hitches. 
“That’s true…” you hum and pull away from him. “I don’t have any clothes, though. I’d need to find some before doing anything.” Juyeon clicks his tongue and leans back, a thoughtful look taking over the previous…you don’t even know what to call what you were doing. Was he flirting with you? Were you flirting with him?
“That’s true,” he nods his head. “We can grab some from the store tomorrow? And for now, you can borrow some of my stuff— I mean, if you’re comfortable with that.” He stumbles over his words again, and you can’t help but laugh. “Kevin’s clothes might fit you better but— you’re laughing. Why are— why are you laughing at me.”
“You’re just—” You break into another fit of giggles, covering your mouth with your hand to try and muffle the noise. “God, you’re so dumb.”
“How am I dumb?” Juyeon pouts at you, and you know he just wants you to be comfortable. 
“Never mind,” you wave him off, “let’s just get going. I’m tired and wet.” Juyeon raises an eyebrow, and you roll your eyes. “Not like that, stripper boy.” 
“I know,” he grins at you and tugs you by the sleeve to get you to start walking. “I just wanted to mess with you a little bit.”
“Seems like that’s all you do.” You roll your eyes. “And please tell me you drove here. I am not walking to the house in shorts and slippers.” Juyeon clicks his tongue. 
“As if I would walk anywhere in this weather.” He reaches into his pocket and you hear the click of a button, and then the lights of a car in front of you light up. He jogs forward, grabbing the handle of the passenger side door for you with a bright smile on his face. “After you, m’lady.”
“What a gentleman,” you shut the umbrella and duck into the vehicle. 
“Only for you, pretty girl.” He winks at you and shuts the door.
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Juyeon is quiet when you exit his bathroom. Your hair is wrapped in a towel, your body swamped in Juyeon’s clothes. He’s lying flat on his back on his mattress, his legs dangling off the edge and his fingers drumming on his stomach. Your feet shuffle against the ground, the fabric of his sweatpants covering your feet entirely and dragging behind you. His t-shirt is almost like a dress on you, hanging down to your thighs and the sleeves baggy along your arms where it would be formfitting on him. 
“Where should I put these?” Juyeon lifts his head, and you hear a sharp inhale. He’s staring at you, and the gaze is heavy with something you can’t place. 
“You—” his voice cracks and he sits up fully, resting his elbows on his knees. “You can just toss them in the basket next to you. I’ll— I’ll wash it tomorrow.” You hum, doing as he says and tossing your clothing into the basket. 
His room is…weirdly clean. At least, it’s cleaner than you expected it to be for a frat boy. There’s a bit of laundry scattered across the room, sure, but you don’t feel gross just standing there. The floor is clean, the bed is made. 
The bed.
The one bed in the room. 
“Where— where should I set up a spot to sleep?” You wring your hands behind your back.
“What?” Juyeon stares at you dumbly, his eyes blank and jaw dropped slightly. If you look closely, you swear you can see a puddle of drool on the floor in front of him. Unintentionally, you snort and immediately slap a hand over your mouth. 
“I just— I mean this is your room, stripper boy.” You shrug, trying to keep the air as light as possible. “Where should I set up camp for the next three days?”
“You are not sleeping on the floor.” Juyeon shakes his head and pushes off the edge of his bed.
“Then where am I gonna sleep?” 
“The bed?” He says it as if it’s obvious. “The fuck? You really thought I was gonna make you sleep on the floor?” 
“Stripper boy, I am not sleeping in your bed.” You click your tongue.
“Yes, you are, pretty girl.” He takes a step toward you. “I’m not gonna let you sleep on the floor! First of all, you’re a guest. Second of all, I’m a gentleman. Third of all, I’m—” he cuts himself short again and you raise an eyebrow.
“Well, then I’ll sleep on the couch downstairs. That’ll solve it.” You move to the door, but he grabs your upper arm and pulls you toward him. “Dude, you have got to stop grabbing me like that. It’s kind of annoying.”
“Sorry.” He exhales and lets go of your arm, brushing his hand across the skin he grabbed as if to soothe it. It sends sparks of heat through your arm, and you fight back a shiver. “I just— what if we share my bed?” 
You stare at him for a moment.
Then another.
And then another.
And then Juyeon is wincing and stepping away from you. 
“I was just— that was stupid. I’m sorry.”
“I mean…” you purse your lips. “If it solves the problem, then sure.” 
“Wait seriously?” His eyes bug out of his head and you laugh. “You’re comfortable with that?” 
“Stripper boy, if you thought I was gonna kick you out of your bed, then you have a whole new thing coming.” He rolls his eyes. “We can just…I dunno. Put pillows between us?” 
“Yeah, that works. That works just fine.” He sighs heavily. Just fine. He’s gonna be just fine these next few days.
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Juyeon realizes very quickly that it will not, in fact, be fine. He realizes this when he wakes up in the middle of the night, the pillows between the two of you thrown to the edge of the bed and your body wrapped around his like a vice. One of your legs is hooked around his, the other strewn across his hip to lock him down. You have one arm tucked under his, holding his shoulder while your free arm has slipped around his waist, under his shirt so your fingers are splayed across his abdomen. Your head is seemingly strategically placed on his chest, and he can feel every breath you release. He can feel every pulse of your heartbeat against his leg—
Wait.
Oh, this arrangement is not going to be good for his heart. 
He tries desperately to shift away from you, to gently pry you off of him, anything to get the pounding in his chest to go away. Anything to stop the blood from rushing to his dick like some goddamn virgin. It’s a normal thing. It’s not something to get fucking hard over, Lee Juyeon. Pull yourself together.
It feels like ages before he’s able to pull himself free, nearly falling out of his bed to get away from you. He freezes in place when he hears you shift, a quiet moan leaving you when your sleeping self finds the spot Juyeon once lay frozen is now empty. His heart is pounding, his feet padding quickly against the floor to get to his bathroom. He’s quick to shut the door, cringing at the squeak of the hinges. Gotta get those fixed, he notes. For future reference, of course.
He’s hard in his sweats, his dick straining against the fabric, and his body feels like it’s on fire. Juyeon leans against the counter, tapping his foot anxiously while he stares at himself in the mirror. His cheeks are flushed, his hair a mess, and his pupils are blown out. He grips the marble counter, squeezing his eyes shut and praying to god that he softens soon because he cannot and will not jerk off to you. Not when you’re right there, one thin wall over. 
Thinking that was a mistake. His dick twitches in his pants at the thought of you waking up and finding him in the bathroom, cock in hand, and frantically trying to rub one out. 
Oh, he’s so fucked, he squeezes his eyes shut as he shoves his sweatpants down just enough to be able to grab himself. Just enough for him to spring free and let the cold air wash over him. 
Juyeon is completely, royally fucked, and he knows it as he spits on his hand. He knows it when he wraps his hand around his cock. Juyeon knows it when his body shudders from the first pump of his hand, the brush of his thumb across his tip. He knows it when he fights the whine trying to erupt from his throat. 
He knows it when he cums in his hand, ropes of white covering his palm when he places his hand over his tip to minimize the mess. He knows it when all he thought about was you. You and your pretty face. You who calls him stripper boy, who hasn't hesitated to shoot him down every chance you get. You who he’s pretty damn sure is into him in the same way he’s into you.
It’s hard for Juyeon to get back in his bed and lie down next to you knowing that just a few minutes ago he came in his hand to the thought of you. It’s even harder for him to fall back to sleep when you wrap yourself around him again, relaxing against his body and releasing a contented sigh. He tries so, so hard to relax with you, to steady his pounding heart. 
God, he’s so fucked.
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"When did you get here?” There’s a boy— a man, really— standing at the counter when you and Juyeon walk into the kitchen in the morning. The man is holding a ceramic Garfield mug that you assume is filled with coffee, and he’s got his phone in his free hand. You give him a short wave, and he nods back at you. 
Juyeon had been odd the whole morning. Or, at least, the two hours you had been awake and the one hour since he’d woken up and immediately rolled to his feet to get away from you. Something about morning wood. Since then, he’d been keeping a healthy distance from you, flinching away from your touch and giving short responses to your questions and statements. It makes you nervous. Were you intruding? Did he regret asking you to stay? 
“Last night,” Juyeon answers for you, leading you to the bar counter and pulling out a chair for you to sit in. “Y/N, this is Sangyeon. He’s the Tau Beta Zeta president. Sangyeon, this is Y/N. She’s gonna be staying with us for the next couple of days.” 
Sangyeon squints at you, gnawing at his lip in thought. 
“And you guys are…what? Friends? Lovers? Fuck buddies?” You scoff and Juyeon whips his head around, nearly spilling coffee onto his hand. 
“None of the above,” you wave your hand and almost miss the flash of emotion in Juyeon’s eyes. “Just someone who needed a hand, and strip- Juyeon happened to be there.” Sangyeon turns to Juyeon with an inquisitive look on his face. Juyeon shakes his head and turns back to you with two mugs in his hand. 
“I didn’t know how you take your coffee so I just threw some cream and a bit of sugar in there.” The mug he slides over to you is shaped like a ladybug, and you can’t help the laugh that escapes you at the sight of his mug. Normal, compared to yours. Just plain white with text that says ‘Stupid people shouldn’t breed!’. “What’s so funny?”
“Just the…interesting arrangement of mugs you all have here.” You smile at Juyeon, but he just scoffs. Sangyeon excuses himself and pats Juyeon on the shoulder before making his exit up the stairs.
“I’ll have you know that I picked these all out.” He defends, but you can see the embarrassment in the flush of his cheeks, the dark color spreading to the tips of his ears. “You got a problem with them?”
“No, no,” you smile into your mug and take a sip. It’s bitter, and a bit watered down, but you’re grateful for the caffeine boost. “It’s cute, really. You made some great choices, stripper boy.” 
“That sounded sarcastic,” Juyeon pouts at you and you shake your head.
“It wasn’t!” You reassure him, leaning your torso onto the counter. Juyeon stands near you now, on the shorter edge of the counter and he scoffs. 
“Sure it wasn’t. Because you’re the most supportive person in the world of my decisions.” He turns away from you, staring at the magnetic words on the refrigerator instead of at you and you rise from your seat to stand by his side. 
“Juyooo,” your voice is sing-song in tone and Juyeon fights every instinct inside of him that screams to pin you to the counter and fuck you senseless. “Are you mad at me?” 
“Of course I am,” he rolls his eyes and tilts his chin up when you come to stand in front of him. 
“Why?” You frown, but the corners of your lips fight to turn up.
“You made fun of me!” 
“Yeah, but it was all in good fun!” You protest. “I think your choice of mugs was cute!”
“No you don’t,” he scoffs and crosses his arms. “You think they’re stupid.” 
“No,” you shake your head. “I think they’re adorable.”
“Bullshit,” Juyeon says. “You think they’re stupid.”
“I do not.” You groan. 
“You do!”
“Do not!”
“Do too!”
“Do no—” 
Juyeon’s lips are on yours, and you let out a startled gasp, your hand flying up and finding purchase on his chest. 
You try to push him off, you really do! You think about it, you tell your body to push him off, and then somehow you end up pulling him closer, allowing your eyes to slip closed. Isn’t it so weird how that happens?
Your hand is holding his shirt tightly, keeping him close to you while your lips mesh in a sloppy kiss. His lips are rough against yours, his teeth nipping at your lower lip and then his tongue slips out and soothes the bites. The repeated actions have your legs trembling, your breathing becoming shaky, and your hand that isn’t in his shirt rises to the back of his neck to tangle in his hair and pull him impossibly closer to you.
His hands are all over you. They run up and down your waist, brushing under the waistband of the sweatpants he lent you, pushing into your back to keep you close to him. They run under your shirt, grazing the underside of your shirt, and he smiles when he feels you exhale shakily against him. 
You hesitantly, and ever so slowly, push your tongue out, letting it run across his lower lip and you’re a bit too pleased when he opens up for you immediately. He lets you push your tongue into his mouth, lets you explore, and is ever so patient with your hesitance. 
Gently, oh so gently, he sucks on your tongue while you try to pull it back into your mouth and you release the tiniest, almost inaudible whine. 
Apparently, to your complete dismay, this snaps Juyeon back into reality and he pulls away from you. He pulls away quickly, almost stumbling back and into some of the bar stools. You’re standing there, almost in a daze, and both of you just stare at each other for a moment. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you, and Juyeon can tell that you’re regretting what the two of you just did. 
And it hurts. It really hurts when you open your mouth, going to speak and nothing comes out. He smiles sadly. 
“I should find a way to get to the store. You’re gonna need some clothes for the next few days.”
“Juyeon, wait—” You reach for him, but he just shakes his head.
“It’s fine, pretty girl.” He reassures you, but his voice breaks and betrays him. “No hard feelings. Let’s just forget it happened.”
“I don’t want to forget that!” You protest, but Juyeon just shakes his head.
“Like I said, pretty girl,” He grabs his mug and smiles at you. There’s no emotion behind it, at least not one that you want to recognize. “We gotta get you some clothes for the next three days.”
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It’s infuriating how quickly he seems to move on. Three days pass by, and not once has he even hinted about talking about what happened. It was almost like he’d forgotten about it entirely.
Which, to your dismay, was exactly what he wanted you to do. It wasn’t as if you regretted the kiss, at least not in the way he thought. The regret that you knew you had let slip was from pulling away in the first place. You had only meant to come up for air, knowing that you would likely drown in him had you given yourself the chance. Now, due to your own stupid mistakes, the tables have turned for you. 
He’d been avoiding you since you moved back into your apartment two days ago. He’d avoided you in the classes you were now all too aware that you shared. It stung that he no longer sought you out, no longer yelled your name from across the room, and drew unwanted attention to you. He no longer pressured you to call the number on that damn flier that sat untouched on your desk.
“You could always just, I dunno,” Chanhee is lying on your bed, scrolling on his phone while you rant about his frat brother. “Call the number? I’m pretty sure it’s his number anyway.” 
“Wait seriously?” You spin around in your desk chair, turning away from the project you two are supposed to be working on together. 
“Yeah, it just happened to be really convenient that the last four digits of his phone number spelled junk. What do you think of this?” He flips his phone around to show you a coat. A black trench coat, nothing too fancy about it. 
“Eh. You have plenty of those, don’t you?”
“True.” He nods and lays back down.
“Should I really call him?” You lean your head back on your chair, lacing your fingers together on your lap. “What if he hates me, Chanhee?”
“Trust me, Y/N,” Chanhee exhales heavily, “that man does not hate you.”
“But how do you know that?” You ask. “If he told you that, he could be lying to you!”
“Girl,” Chanhee throws his phone down onto your mattress and sits up straight. “If a man hates you, he is not going to jack off at 3 in the goddamn morning— with his frat brothers in the other room that connects to his bathroom, mind you— to the thought of you. Trust me. He doesn’t hate you.”
“You don’t— I’m sorry, what?” Your eyes are bugging out of your head and Chanhee grimaces in a way that tells you that he was not supposed to tell you that. 
“Oops…” 
“What do you mean he— Chanhee, what are you talking about?” Chanhee is already rising from your bed, grabbing his laptop, and sliding his shoes on.
“I think it’s time for me to get out of here,” he tells you with a tight smile on his face. He comes toward you though, holding the flier in his hand. “But, I really think you should call this number. Could really help you both, I think.” 
When the door shuts behind your classmate, you sit in silence for a moment. A few moments, really, just holding the first flier that Juyeon ever gave you in your hand. There’s a little bit of water damage from the flooding, but the number in the middle of the page is still there. It’s almost ironic that Juyeon’s phone number is the only part of the advertisement that isn’t ruined, like something was telling you that you needed to call Juyeon. 
Your phone rings once, then twice, and you hear the line click on the other side.
“Thank you for calling College Hunks, what junk can we haul for you today?”
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It takes Juyeon a little over an hour to get to your apartment. By that point, you’d gathered anything that you didn’t want into trash bags and set them in your living room. Each bag is organized to an extent. Things to be recycled, to be donated, or just thrown away. Most of the items that needed to be thrown away were damaged when your apartment building flooded, each damaged beyond repair. Almost like fate, isn’t it?
There’s a knock on your door. One, two, three. Your hands are shaking a bit when you grab the door handle. One, two, th—
You practically rip the door open before Juyeon can finish knocking. He’s standing there, wide-eyed with his mouth hanging open. The outfit he’s wearing is the same as the day he first showed up at your door. White tank top, cargo pants, and some worn-out sneakers. For once, his hair isn’t styled. He’s parted it down the middle, a little bit of gel used to keep it from falling into his face too much. 
“Hi,” you breathe out. It’s like Juyeon is stuck in a trance, his hand still frozen mid-knock and his mouth opening and closing like a damn fish. “You— do you want to come in?” Juyeon blinks. 
“Uh…yeah, yeah sure.” You step to the side, allowing him to walk into your apartment. It’s awkward, to say the least. When you shut your door, the click makes both of you flinch and suddenly you’ve forgotten everything that you wanted to say to him. 
“Is this—” Juyeon’s voice cracks a little bit, and he turns to face you but he doesn’t look you in the eye. “Is this everything?” 
“Yeah,” you nod, “yeah it is. Needed to get rid of some stuff after the building flooded, you know?” You laugh, but he doesn’t and you’re quick to shut your mouth. Say something, dammit. Anything. Your mind is screaming, whether at you or Juyeon you aren’t entirely sure. “Juyeon, can we ta—” 
“I should get started then,” he cuts you off and you grimace. “Got a couple of appointments today, so I can’t linger for long.”
“Right…” your voice trails off. “Yeah, I’ll get out of your way then.”
Plan A is a bust, then. 
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Juyeon moves quickly. You don’t know if it’s work ethic or if he wants to get away from you as fast as possible, but it stings. You don’t say anything to each other the whole time, not that you staying in your bedroom the whole time did anything to help the situation. You can hear him moving around, carrying bag after bag down to his car, but not once does he come to talk to you. Not even about the junk he’s carrying out. 
Your forehead is against your desk, your eyes shut tightly as you try to block out the noise, knowing that he’ll be carrying out the last bag soon. The sound of your feet tapping on the ground is almost enough to drown out Juyeon, but not quite enough to drown out the knocking at your bedroom door. 
Your head snaps up, and you spin around to face Juyeon. 
“Hi,” he gives you a tight smile. “I just— I brought out the last bag so I guess— I guess I should go, huh?” 
Don’t, you want to tell him, don’t leave yet.
“Yeah, I guess so.” You stand up and clear your throat. “Here, what’s your Venmo? I can send you some money.”
Juyeon shakes his head. “I already told you that you don’t have to pay me.” 
“Yeah, you did,” you agree. “But I’d feel bad if I let you leave empty-handed.” 
“I’m not leaving emptyhanded, though!” He argues. “I have your junk! Which, surprisingly, all fit into the trunk of my car.”
“Go you,” you cheer halfheartedly. “That’s not gonna stop me from paying you.”
“Pretty girl,” he warns. “I’m not gonna let you pay me.”
“Then I’ll get Chanhee to tell me your Venmo.” You grin and Juyeon rolls his eyes. 
“You’re not gonna let this go, will you?”
“Nope,” you let the sound of the p pop when you say it and Juyeon lets out a dry laugh.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that right?” 
“That’s the plan.” you look at him, and this time he’s looking right back at you. The awkward air has cleared, and it almost feels normal. Like it was prior to the kiss. God, please let Plan B work. “Are you gonna tell me what your account is, or am I gonna have to find some other way to pay you?” 
There’s a spark of something in Juyeon’s eyes, and his eyebrows knit together. Please get it, please get it, please get it. C’mon Juyeon, don’t be dense.
“Some other way?” He echoes, and you mentally cheer when he steps toward you. 
“Mhm!” You bob your head. “Like you said, there are other ways to pay you, aren’t there?” 
He’s right in front of you now, and you swear you see him start to reach for you before he’s forcing his hands back down to his sides. 
“You’re not—” he inhales and squeezes his eyes shut. “Please tell me I’m not misinterpreting this.” 
“Depends on what you think I’m saying.” You smirk, and Juyeon starts to lean down, his eyes flitting from your eyes to your lips. 
“What I think you’re offering,” he speaks slowly and you can feel his breath on your lips. “Is not exactly…appropriate, pretty girl.”
“And I think you’re right.” You’re practically whispering, every movement from your mouth causes your lips to brush against his and you’re so close to caving and just yanking him down to crush his lips against yours. 
Thankfully, Juyeon moves fast and he’s grabbing you by the waist to yank you to him and your hands are in his hair by the time his lips are on your. 
This kiss is heavier than the first. It’s messier and sloppier and his tongue is in your mouth, pushing at yours and licking at every nook and cranny that he can reach. You walk him backward to your bed. You don’t separate your mouths, not when you push him down onto your mattress, not when you sit on his lap with your legs on either side of him. Your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving little crescents indented into his skin. 
Juyeon groans at the stinging feeling, sliding his hands under your shirt and gently pushing it up. He does it slowly, giving you time to stop him, but you get impatient and shove him back until he’s lying down. His hands are still on your waist, and he’s watching with a hazy gaze as you lift your shirt over your head and throw it somewhere across the room. 
“Shit, pretty girl,” he breathes out and tries to slide his hands up to your chest. You’re smirking when you slap his hands away. 
“No touching yet,” you tell him and he groans in response. 
“You can’t just do this and not let me touch you!” He whines. “It’s not fair!” 
“You should’ve thought about that before you ignored me for a week,” you retort and he falls silent. “It’s fine, though. I’ll just get you back with this.” Your hands reach behind your back and you swiftly unclip your bra and throw that in the direction you’d thrown your shirt in. Juyeon’s hands lurch up to touch you again but you’re faster, grabbing his wrists and pinning them down to his sides with a click of your tongue.
“Y/N please,” Juyeon begs, his breath hitching in his throat when you leave him completely, and he can only watch as you unbutton your jeans and tug the rest of your clothing off. He’s practically drooling as he sits up, watching you undress for him. He watches you walk to your dresser, digging through your drawers for a moment before returning with a long piece of silk. “Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking joking.” 
You laugh at his reaction and toss the silk onto the mattress behind him. 
“Why would I be joking, Juyeon?” You stand between his legs, and you grin when he doesn’t even try to touch you this time. You can see the tent in his cargo pants and let your hands trace up and down his thighs. “Take off your shirt for me?” 
There’s a dangerous look in your eye, one that Juyeon can’t find himself wanting to disobey and he’s lifting his shirt over his head without a second thought. Your eyes widen ever so slightly and Juyeon can’t help but smirk. He knows he’s attractive, knows that his body catches people’s attention and he’s proud of that. 
With you, however, there’s something different about how you look at him. Something primal, like a predator looking at her prey and he shifts in his spot. 
“Pants too.” He nods and rises to his feet again, tensing when you raise your hands. “What are you stopping for? Get moving, don’t you have other appointments to get to?” Your hands are tracing the lines of his abs, feeling the way he flinches at your touch. You continue to trace his body as he bends down to lower his pants and boxers to the ground. Your hands raise to the backs of his shoulders, to the back of his neck, and let them slip down to his pecs when he stands straight again. 
You almost let yourself falter when you see his cock for the first time. It’s big, bigger than any you’ve taken in the past, and you can’t help but imagine what he’d looked like when he was thinking of you. Did he look as messy as he does now, eyes practically crazed, his breathing labored as he fisted himself? Did he watch himself in the mirror, imagining it was your hand instead of his own? 
“So pretty, baby.” You breathe out, letting your hand drop down to wrap around his cock. He sucks in a breath, letting it out when he whines at the feeling of you running your hand up and down, squeezing at the base, and rubbing your thumb along the tip. “So pretty.” 
You push him back again, releasing him from your grasp and following him as he slides up your bed. You take the silk in your hand, gesturing for him to put his hands above his head, tying the silk tightly around his wrists so he can’t get loose. Juyeon lets out another broken whine when you straddle him, running your fingers over your core and gathering the wetness on your fingers. You allow yourself to moan quietly, gauging Juyeon’s reaction to you touching yourself. He’s staring with his mouth hanging open, his cock twitching against his abdomen as he watches you sink two fingers into your core. He whines when your body shudders against him, when you curl your fingers up into you. 
“Is this what you think about, Juyeon?” You try your best to keep your voice steady when you speak. “Do you think about this when you touch yourself? When you lock yourself in the bathroom, jacking off to the thought of me like some little virgin?” He doesn’t respond, too lost in the sight of you riding your own hand. 
He doesn’t see you reach your free hand up, gasping when he feels you squeeze your fingers around his throat. Not too tightly, but enough to get his attention back on you. 
“I asked you a question, baby.” You pull your fingers out of your dripping pussy, gazing at the arousal covering your hand and humming in thought. “I guess I should give a reason to not answer, shouldn’t I?”
“Please,” Juyeon whispers out, and you smile when you raise your fingers to his mouth. 
“Go on then,” you tell him, “suck.” 
His head lurches forward, taking your fingers into his mouth and moaning at the taste of you. He runs his tongue along your fingers, and you inhale sharply, your eyelids drooping when he tries to open his eyes, trying to watch and gauge your reaction. 
“Cleanin’ me up good, hm?” You pull your fingers from his mouth and Juyeon takes this time to catch his breath, to gather himself. You don’t give him long though, no more than a few moments before you’re grabbing his cock in your dainty hand and lining it up with your pussy. 
“Fuck,” Juyeon throws his head back, his hands curling into fists, and groaning as you sink down on him. Your walls are squeezing so tightly around him, and he knows it has to be a stretch for you but you act as if it was nothing for you, as if he didn’t hit that sweet spot inside of you just by you sinking down on him. You let your eyes drift shut, fighting back the urge to start riding him until he has nothing left to give you. You can feel him twitching inside of you, knowing that he’s close just from your warm walls squeezing around him. “Fuck, pretty girl, please.”
“Please what, baby?” You coo, the hand on his throat squeezing gently. He whines and you grin. “Use those words, pretty boy. You can do it.”
“Let me fuck you,” he gasps out and you let out a yelp when he thrusts his hips up and sends you falling over his body. 
Your breasts are in his face now, and he doesn’t give you the chance to do anything before he’s bringing his arms down and trapping you against him as best he can. He thrusts his hips up, driving his cock into you at a pace that you couldn’t keep up with if you tried. He reaches his head up, his teeth latching onto one of your nipples and practically forcing you to follow him as he brings his head back down. Juyeon sucks at your breast, pinning your chest against his face with his arms that he’s brought to rest between your shoulder blades. Every one of his thrusts sends you up his body, but he does his damn best to keep you in place, sucking and licking and biting at both of your tits, groaning every time your cunt clenches around him. 
You feel like you can’t breathe, the air being punched out of you in broken moans and pitched whines. Juyeon is in about the same state as you, the noises he’s letting out are louder than yours, more frequent, and it brings a fresh wave of arousal washing over you. 
“Are you close, pretty boy?” You gasp out. “Gonna— gonna cum for me?” 
“Fuck, yes,” He throws his head back, his hips stuttering against yours. You bring one of your hands down to your clit, rubbing furious circles into it, letting your walls flutter around him and drawing both of you closer to your orgasms. 
When you cum, it has you seeing stars. Your orgasm has you crying out his name, has you clenching around him so tightly that he’s finishing not long after you. You sink your body back, rolling your hips gently over his and placing a firm kiss on his lips. Your tongue pushes into his mouth, swallowing the sounds he makes as he pumps white hot cum into your core. It’s less of a kiss this time, though, and more teeth gnashing together and biting at each other’s lips. 
His hips slow down after a minute or two, and you let your body relax against his, reaching up to untie the silk around his wrists. 
“Fucking finally,” he groans and lets his hands roam your sweaty body. “Thought I was gonna die if you kept me tied up any longer.” You laugh, letting your head drop to his chest. 
“That’s what you get for making me wait.”
“Yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes at you. “And you called me a try-hard.”
“Because you are, Juyeon.” You roll off of him, staring at your ceiling while you lay next to him on your mattress.
“Whatever you say, pretty girl,” he rolls his head to look at you with a cheeky grin on his face. 
“Why are you smiling like that?” Your eyebrows knit together. He just keeps smiling. “What, stripper boy.”
“You know what all this means, right?” You shrug.
“That I have to go to all your parties now or you’re gonna hunt me down?” He laughs and you smile a bit.
“That, and I get to call you my girlfriend.”
“I never agreed to that.” You deny, turning on your side and facing him fully. 
“Sure you did! It was at the very bottom of the flier I gave you.” He tells you.
“No, it wasn’t.” You frown.
“Yeah, it was!” He sits up, reaching for the second flier he gave you that had been placed on your bedside table. “See? Right there at the bottom in tiny font that I knew you wouldn’t pay attention to!” You squint at the words he’s pointing at and let out a scoff.
“Seriously, stripper boy? If your name is Y/N L/N and you redeem this offer, you are legally obligated to become Lee Juyeon’s boyfriend, whether you like it or not. Xoxo.” You push the paper back into his hands. "When did you even put this on there? We hardly knew each other when you gave me this flier."
“I told you!” He beams and lays back down. “You’re my girlfriend now.”
"Cute, but that doesn't answer my question, stripper boy." He digs his fingers into your side, pulling you closer to him, and grins.
"Does it matter?"
"I mean...I guess not?"
"Exactly."
“Does this mean that when we break up, I get half of all your assets?” He glares at you playfully.
“Fuck, no.”
“Damn…” you sigh and lay down with your head on his chest. “I guess I’ll have to put up with you for life then, huh?”
“Mhm.” He cards his hands through your hair, gently combing through the knots. “You excited to spend the next 75 years with me, girlfriend?”
“Not at all, boyfriend.”
“Yes, you are.”
“…Try-hard.”
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© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.
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drunkenkissesatdusk · 4 months ago
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LIKE LIKE!
pairings — grumpy!damian wayne — al ghul x sunshine!reader
warnings — they’re teenagers in the modern era of course they’re gonna curse (but not a lot), isn’t EXACTLY grumpy x sunshine but it’s okay it’s my one shot 👅
summary — friendship only gets you so far with mutual feelings and the shared yearning for more than that.
notes — hi guys
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━━━━━━━ YOU’D MET DAMIAN WHEN school started, in the same advisory you two were paired up since neither of you really had friends. it didn’t bother either of you, since you actually got along.
he was pretty quiet, moody, and didn’t like anyone at school. you were the exact opposite. you were loud, cheerful, and got along with everything. that obviously didn’t mean you were necessarily friends with them.
what made you and Damian click so well was probably the fact that he only really seemed to like you — even if it wasn’t obvious.
even if he didn’t talk, didn’t smile, didn’t seem to have a sliver of an emotion, he still liked you. another thing he’d never been good at was explaining his emotions. he practically despised everyone because they treated him like some sort of bomb.
you pushed his buttons, messed around with him, and always gave him a little bit of a hard time. he didn’t hate it, he could never hate anything you did.
it was probably three months into your friendship with Damian that you hung out with him outside of school. he asked if you could come over, and you happily agreed. the day was normal, except you weren’t picked up by your guardian, rather — you went with Damian.
“hello, i’m Alfred.” you thought he was nice, an old British man that Damian told you had always worked for his family. if anything, he must’ve practically been a part of the family.
you, of course, introduced yourself. it was polite. Alfred seemed taken aback, and the look (or feeling) didn’t leave him when you turned and began talking Damian’s ear off.
the boy, however, seemed to have absolutely no problem with that. he seemed to be hanging on every word, Alfred could see the mixture of fondness and love in Damian’s eyes when he looked at you — too bad you were both as oblivious as ever.
at Wayne manor, you wore a smile as you walked behind Damian and into the large house. he waited for you to take your shoes off after him, his hands stealing away your heavy bag and throwing it over his unoccupied shoulder.
you were then introduced to Richard Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, and Bruce Wayne. of course, you’d always known who Bruce was — your guardian worked for him now, a feature you didn’t leave out.
Damian, not liking anyone here (except, obviously, you), tugged at your arm. you understood what he meant, even with a lack of words, and promptly excused the two of you.
Damian’s room was pretty plain, and you jokingly shook your head. “who knew you were so boring?” you teased, sitting next to him on his large bed.
you didn’t know then, but Damian actually had you here for a reason. for awhile now, he had found you in his every waking thought. it’s like you had overridden his normal thoughts, becoming the only thing he could comfortably think about.
it had proven difficult during patrol, his performance was lacking and he needed to do something to soothe his thoughts so no one saw Robin as weak.
“i wanted to talk to you, actually.” he muttered. it stopped your thoughts, and you turned to him curiously. he didn’t speak much, and you never pressured him to. when he did, you didn’t make a huge deal of it.
“what’s up?” you hummed, eyes locking in on him.
“i uh… listen, you don’t have to… y’know, feel the same? but… but i really, really like… you.” his sentence was awkward, which made you smile. he didn’t know, but you sure knew, you were head over heels for him.
“i like you too, Damian.” you laughed softly, letting your hand drop to his leg.
“holy shit, really?” he looked up, his normally inexpressive face suddenly unable to find an emotion, settling on utter disbelief and pure excitement.
“yeah.” you smiled fondly at him.
“does this… does this mean—” you cut him off, nodding. he reached forwards and tackled you in a hug, placing a soft kiss on your collarbone. suddenly, he stood up, jumping around happily.
“fuck yes.” he muttered, you began laughing.
this was the most important moment of your teenage years, your boyfriend, jumping around in excitement, because he was with you.
he tackled you into another hug, and you remained glued together until you had to leave.
you slept well with a huge grin planted across your face.
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masterlist — reminder that asks / requests are open!!
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alchemistc · 5 months ago
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i like your voice in person
Evan's staring at the bed like he's trying to navigate a minefield.
Six months ago that would have sent Tommy on another journey of self-deprecation, a reminder that he'd known Evan wasn't ready for this, known this was a possibility, but Evan, for all his own insecurities, knows what the hell he wants and if he'd felt even an ounce of pressure or remorse up to this point he'd have said something long before now.
Sometimes Evan likes to work it out himself, and sometimes he needs a little nudge, and Tommy watches the head tilt and the angle of his pursed lips for cues as he settles under the sheets.
"Something on your mind?" he prompts, and Evan blinks, like he hadn't realized he'd gotten lost in his thoughts.
"Uh...nothing, maybe."
"Sounds like something, probably."
Evan's smile tilts up at one corner, and he settles on the bed a little stiffly. "It's nothing major. Just. Something I've been thinking about?"
He can feel his brows jumping, can see the way Evan takes in the look with a fond expression. Evan steels himself for something -- they're still muddling through past experiences and learning how to be a bit more intentional in some of their conversations, because they both have a bad habit of reverting to flirting and deflection.
"You remember what we talked about last weekend?"
Tommy can genuinely remember about 93 percent of what he and Evan talk about at any given time, which is an astronomically high number and not at all an exaggeration. He'd be embarrassed about it if he didn't have clear evidence that Evan was as deep into this as he was.
They talk a lot, is the thing, about inconsequential shit just as much (definitely more) than the important stuff. They talk far more than Tommy can remember talking in any other relationship he's been in. But Tommy can pinpoint the exact one he means.
"You mean the roles thing."
Evan hadn't been a stranger to a little daddy talk in bed when they started to explore it, and he'd brought it up right at the start for a reason, but Tommy had taken a while to come around to the realization that Evan had sort of internalized the 'I don't have daddy issues' of it all in a way that Tommy hadn't actually meant it. There'd been little things, here and there; like Evan reaching a door before him and then bashfully waiting with it half open like he'd made a misstep; like twisting his mouth a little funny when he snatched the bill from the table before Tommy could get it. Little things.
Things that, in the abstract, yeah, Tommy liked to do for his partners, but in reality weren't actually that big a deal to him.
He'd needed to clear the air.
Evan nods. Curls a hand around his knee before he shifts his body so that he's facing Tommy. "So, I like taking care of people."
(A conversation, a month ago, Evan grimacing around "My therapist says I have to stop calling myself a people pleaser in a derogatory way.")
Tommy hums, something to remind Evan he's listening.
"And I guess I sort of built up this idea in my head that that was like, a hard stop with you."
("Everyone likes being taken care of sometimes, Evan.")
"And I'm not -- I'm not upset at you, or like, feeling guilty, I just -- I've been thinking about it, and I feel like I forgot to ask you how you wanted to be taken care of."
The thing with Evan is that no matter how often he'll deflect with a joke, when he wants to say something serious he's blunt as hell about it. There might be some hemming and hawing to get there but sometimes he says things that just make Tommy wonder if he'd ever actually learned how to say things before Evan.
"I don't really have a list, babe," he says, and then sort of hates himself for it. Deflect, distract, hey baby how about I blow you about all these big feelings inside my chest I can't articulate.
Evan, though, Evan squinches his eyes and runs a heavy hand through his hair. "I...sort of do?"
"Lay it on me."
Evan grins. "That's actually one of the things on my list."
Tommy blinks. Tries to figure out that trail of thought, but he's coming up with nothing. "Okay, can you expand on that?"
"Like --listen, you know I'm a huge fan of being the little spoon. I'd let someone put screws back in my leg just for continued little spoon privileges. But sometimes I miss being the big spoon, and in my head the idea sounded so stupid to bring up but now I'm wondering if, like, maybe I've just been denying you the joy of being the little spoon?"
Tommy thinks of Evan's hands spread big and warm across his belly, of knees tucked up behind his, warm breath on the back of his neck like when Evan stumbles up behind him in the mornings whining about coffee, and maybe he blue screens a bit because he's never actually dated someone so close to his own size, because there's always been an assumption at the outset that he wouldn't want that.
Alex had been a little too into the same dynamic he'd seen Evan stumbling through, and Colin had hated sleeping with someone's flesh touching his own. Beyond that he hadn't really dated anyone long enough to really form a preference.
Maybe Kara might have been willing, back when he'd been closeted enough to pretend it wasn't an effort to get it up when she had his dick in her mouth, but they'd been young enough that staying the night wasn't really a consideration.
"And like -- listen, I don't necessarily prescribe to gender roles as a thing in general, but a few weekends ago I spent like twenty minutes staring at a bouquet of flowers in Trader Joe's and convinced myself you wouldn't like the gesture so I didn't buy them but you have a few vases in your moms old china cabinet and the moment I remembered them I felt stupid for not buying the flowers."
There's something curling tenderly underneath Tommy's ribcage that he's not sure he's ever felt quite like this before. It's not new, exactly, but it seems to be thrumming particularly hard tonight.
Three months in, Tommy had gotten the man-flu from hell, temperatures so high he'd been grounded and sent packing to rest it off, and he'd texted Evan a jumbled mess of barely discernible things when they'd tucked him into the Uber.
Evan and Bobby had made chicken noodle soup at the station and Hen had sent Evan off with a laundry list of things he could do to help drop the fever, and Tommy had spent the duration sulking and glowering and dragging himself out of bed every time Evan had wanted to change the sheets, to keep Tommy as comfortable as he could, but when Evan had caught it four days later he hadn't hesitated to do all the same shit with gusto. Evan hadn't been particularly grateful either, because neither one of them liked being laid up when the world was out there waiting for them, but he'd at least had the grace to not be an asshole about it.
He had, though. Been grateful. A little awestruck, too, at the mere idea of someone so unafraid of just being there through all the moaning and groaning and hacking and coughing, keeping the tissues from piling up on the bedside table and switching out cold packs to the freezer so he always had one ready in case he wanted it. In the clarity of a full day without fever making his brain feel like cotton candy he'd stared down at a sleepily wheezing Evan and known he could absolutely lose his heart to this man.
"Also I don't want to toot my own horn here but I give excellent foot rubs, and I feel like there's about a million other things I've just been -- holding back from doing?"
"Because of the role thing, or because all your stupid exes told you you were needy?"
It's not a night to pull punches. Also Tommy wants to send thank you cards to every single one of them and attach them to boxes with a bark scorpion inside.
"Both," Evan says without a second of hesitation. His smile crinkles at the corners of his mouth, and Tommy is suddenly annoyed with the space between them. When he holds out his hand to tug Evan into him, Evan melts into it for the space of a moment before he pulls back. "I actually kind of desperately want to be the big spoon right now, if that's something you'd be into." Evan had definitely clocked the look on his face when he'd mentioned it, but he's keyed into the way Tommy checks in and reciprocated in kind since the start of this, so.
Tommy peels his glasses off, snags his bookmark to keep his spot in the monstrosity of the Wrangler maintenance manual he'd stopped being cagey about the fifth time Evan caught him flipping through it, and watches Evan settle comfortably into bed next to him. The problem is, Tommy actually isn't sure where to go from there, which is a ridiculous thought to have because Evan hadn't either and he'd figured it out just fine.
"How do you want me, Buckley?"
The roll of his eyes is so bitchy that Tommy has to remind himself that for all his people pleasing attributes, Evan Buckley is, at heart, a huge fucking brat. Evan tugs and twists and maneuvers his arms and Tommy sort of sinks into it, head tucked in the crook of his shoulder, draping his leg over one of Evan's when he shifts his knee pointedly, a massive, unruly breath escaping Tommy once they're all done shifting.
"You should absolutely try out the rest of your list," he murmurs into the space where Evan's shoulder meets his neck. "Although you don't need to woo me anymore, I'm actually fully wooed."
Lips against his crown, pressed tightly enough that he can feel the smile against his scalp, Evan chuckles. "You don't know how good my wooing is."
The fingers shifting up and down his arm feel somehow different, from this position, even though Evan has done it a hundred times before from the spot he likes to claim with his head right over Tommy's bleeding, three-sizes-too-big-for-him heart. It's ridiculous, and it shouldn't feel any different, but it does. He wants to be greedy with it, soak it in and then never let Evan do this again because he finally understands the appeal and he doesn't want to deprive Evan that.
"This is nicer than I expected."
Evan's soft laugh ruffles his hair, and Tommy wonders if he's dumb enough to ask Eddie how long he should wait before he can reasonably beg Evan to spend the rest of his life with him.
"Save the reviews for when I actually spoon you. It's gonna rock your world." His hand drifts up, fingers digging into the dimple of Tommy's skull.
The hum in his throat has a mind of it's own, going thin and reedy and --
Evan pauses, and Tommy can practically see the gears whirring in his mind, because this is new information.
To both of them, actually, but Tommy doesn't have time to process it because the fingers on the back of his skull spread and sink deeper, just enough pressure to be more than a glancing ruffle, and Tommy can't quite help the way he tilts his head back into it, or the way he hitches his leg to press his groin a little more firmly to the outside of Evan's thigh.
They're both too tired for it to really mean anything -- both off 48's and a fumbled round in the shower while they were already bone weary -- but Tommy wants the reminder for them both when they wake up in the morning.
He can feel his eyes drooping the longer Evan scrubs his fingers against him, and the thought pops into his head as he's drifting off. He doesn't want it to disappear into the fog, though, so he murmurs it into the soft, warm skin of Evan's neck. "I like camellia's. White ones."
Evan hums, and Tommy just knows that the moment he drops off, Evan will be reaching for his phone to google the language of flowers.
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bomberqueen17 · 2 years ago
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tone indicators
I reblogged this post without adding any commentary bc queue and not a lot of computer time lately but like okay here's the thing about tone indicators:
they're yet another in-group set of coded speech. like an inside joke, or a meme, or a conlang. if you are in a group that uses them, they're great and perfectly comprehensible.
but if you don't happen to have come from inside a group that uses them, they are exactly as exclusionary as any other heavy jargon or inside joke or acronym. I mean have you ever listened to soldiers talk? The US Army communicates in heavily jargon-ified speech, liberally laden with acronyms, so much so that it's a self-referential joke to make up obscene or deliberately-obfuscated ones to slip into official reports since the sorts of people who'd kick up a fuss about obscene language won't understand them.
It is exactly the same thing. Except that's exclusionary on purpose, and tone indicators are exclusionary in effect but tout themselves as inclusionary.
So if I, an outsider to this, am reading along, and after a sentence, there's a / and then between one and three letters, that is not enough information for me to use to look it up.
This is absolutely inaccessible if you are not alreadhy in the group that uses it.
I wouldn't mind if the people who used them were just like 'oh ha sorry jargon, i'll try to explain if it's not clear, sorry i forget you guys don't know them' just like any other inside joke or meme or whatever.
But I was in a discussion with someone on a Discord and when I was puzzled about them including these weird slash-acronyms after their statements they were like oh how nice for you that you're not neurodivergent and don't need to use these.
Uh no. The opposite actually. I'm the kind of neurodivergent that needs context. I handle being excluded from conversations very poorly. And that's where I get pissed off, that people seem to be holding these up as the new be-all end-all of Finally Solving The Problem Of Ambiguous Tones In Social Interaction. The hell you are, kids. They're just another layer, and I'd say the worst one yet, out of many many many attempts to solve this exact problem. They are fundamentally inaccessible. Don't mistake the fact that you learned them (somewhere, in some context inaccessible to me) for them actually being universal.
Considered against the many different solutions that have been offered since text-only speech was invented, tone indicators stack up as among the very least-accessible of the lot, since they contain so little context in and of themselves-- if a key is not provided then they're totally inaccessible, and are exceptionally difficult for non-native English speakers, and in general require so much memorization or cross-referencing as to be prohibitively hostile to outsiders.
And that's fine, if what your'e doing is just meant for talking to your friends. But don't come into my conversations and berate me for not having memorized whatever incomprehensible set of acronyms you've newly-decided are the new universal truth. And what drives me the most insane is how many of these acronyms someone has now decided to assign a whole new meaning to are acronyms that are well-known and already existed and are in heavy use. So if you try to look them up guess what you get! is it gonna be the newly-created version or the one that's been in use for fifty to seventy-five years??
For one, P.O.S. has had a specific meaning in written and spoken English for a really damn long time and if you call me a piece of shit in the actual language I speak I am absolutely not going to interpret your conlang as having intended something nice. (YES REALLY THEY'RE USING THAT ONE TRY TO GUESS WHAT IT MEANS. NO. NO! I know. Fuck! That's wild. Absolutely the fuck not.)
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nadvs · 4 months ago
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What if sleeping with the enemy rafe accidentally calls reader his gf but neither of them seem to mind 🤭
OBSESSED WITH THIS 🤭
based on this fic
rafe has had too much to drink. tonight’s game secured his team a position in the championship finals. they had to celebrate. one shot became two became however many it takes to make the room start spinning.
he’s sprawled out on the couch at a party at one of the student houses on campus. everyone’s loud and rowdy and excitable. he’s exhausted and sore after the game, but he’s just as wired.
at this point, he texts her anytime there’s a party because he likes her being around. she’s on the other side of the room with a couple of the friends she brought, laughing at how shit-faced rafe is.
“should you be here?” one of his teammates slurs with a drunk smile, approaching her and her friends.
“no,” she replies light-heartedly. they shouldn’t be at a party celebrating another team’s win, especially theirs, but she stopped caring about the rivalry a long time ago. “you’re the bad guys.”
“you’re the bad guys,” he responds, pointing at her, but he loses his balance and nearly stumbles on top of her.
rafe’s seeing stars but he’s conscious enough to realize his teammate almost just knocked her over. he stands and crosses the room, putting a heavy arm around her, shielding her from his friend.
“you tryin’ to tackle my girlfriend? the fuck’s wrong with you?” rafe drawls. his mind catches up with what he just said. he looks down at her. “i mean, uh… my…”
“you’re hammered,” she laughs. she doesn’t mind the slip-up. she knows they’re friends. but her mind has drifted to the possibility of being more a few times.
rafe falls into a fit of laughter, raking a hand through his hair.
“i’m hammered,” he echoes. “you see all those three-pointers i got tonight?”
“you’ve only mentioned it like a hundred times,” she says. really, she’s thrilled to see him so happy. he’s been working hard this season. he deserved the win. “let’s get you some water. follow me.”
when they reach the quiet kitchen tucked at the back of the house, rafe slouches over the counter as she fills a glass with water.
she watches him drink it, surprised at how far he’s come since they started hooking up. he was never the type to let people tell him what to do, but she just ordered him to follow her and he listened. she’s pretty sure that at this point, she’d tell him to jump and he’d ask how high.
at a party last weekend, he mentioned that she’s his best friend. she told him that he’s hers. but the term girlfriend sounded so good coming out of his mouth.
he drains the glass and then she turns to fill it again.
“i don’t need that much,” he complains.
“you need a lot to hydrate so you don’t feel like shit tomorrow,” she says. “you’re like ten feet tall.”
he laughs again.
“i don’t get hungover,” rafe says.
“that’s a lie,” she chuckles. she offers him the full glass, deciding to tease him. “you shouldn’t lie to your girlfriend.”
rafe rolls his eyes and swallows down the water, but her words sober him up a little bit. he lowers the glass, his lips gleaming with moisture. she stands in front of him, tempted to kiss him.
he stares down at her, gazing into her eyes, and the thought of her wanting some sort of commitment to him is oddly thrilling.
“you’re going to be so embarrassed that you said that,” she laughs.
“no, i’m not,” he says quickly. he may be drunk but that, he knows for sure.
tension sits between them. the reason their whole deal works is because they’re direct with each other. honest. it’s a knee-jerk reaction of his to tell her exactly what he’s thinking. but what he’s thinking right now could shift things. maybe even break them.
she’s frozen. they say drunk words are sober thoughts, so maybe rafe really does see her as his girlfriend. they definitely act like a couple at this point.
“what kind of boyfriend would you even be?” she eventually says. instead of laughing off the prospect of being in a relationship with anyone like he always does, he answers after he takes another sip of water.
“a good one,” he says. “i’m good at everything.“
“your humility is so inspiring,” she replies sarcastically.
their words sound like jokes, but the looks they’re sharing are utterly serious. it’s unusual not to be laughing together, chiding like friends. the air is heavy. awkward.
but it’s also incredibly natural.
“you sleeping over tonight?” rafe asks, eyes traveling over her face.
she’s only slept over a handful of times, when the sex was so tiring she couldn’t imagine making her way home. sleeping over feels coupley. but here he is, asking her to.
and she could make a joke about him just wanting a private nurse for his inevitable hangover in the morning. but it feels cruel to tease him when he’s being so vulnerable, looking at her like she might actually have the power to hurt him. to hurt someone so strong and loud and unpenetrable.
“yeah,” she replies simply.
rafe nods, unable to tear his eyes off of her.
“finish that,” she says, looking down at the half-full glass.
“i don’t have to listen to you,” rafe tells her. but he brings the glass back up to his lips, mirroring her smile.
he definitely doesn’t have to let her boss him around. but he’s going to, whether he wants to or not, because that’s the effect she has on him.
(the next morning)
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jareaul0ver · 7 months ago
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Bruises (pt 2)
part 1
Summary: Regina continues to give you special treatment after your fight with Shane, and the truth of why is revealed.
wc: 1.7k warnings: mentions of the fight, none really, just a happy ending :) pairings: regina george x reader
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After the fight you had with Shane, Regina had been all over you. You weren’t sure why, you’re weren’t concussed nor did you need help with anything, but who were to you complain.
It was a week or so after the incident and you were sitting with your usual friends in the cafeteria for lunch. Regina and you had spoken a lot since then, but you weren’t expecting to see her standing behind you when you turned around.
“Regina, hey.” You smiled up at her. Your friends stared at you with wide eyes.
She looked down at you, trying her best to keep a neutral face. “Come sit with us.” A few people gasped and she shot them a glare before looking back at you, her face softening immediately. No one else could see past her scary façade except for you.
You glanced back at your friends and they nodded. You stood up and grabbed your things. Regina’s hand twitched and she had to stop herself from grabbing yours and pulling you with her. Instead, she just walked away, expecting you to follow.
Of course, you did. Regina sat in her usual spot, the seat next to her open. You smiled at Gretchen and Karen, and at the unfamiliar face sitting in between them. “Hi, I’m Cady.” She smiled back at you.
“Y/N, nice to meet you.” You were always polite. That was one of the many things Regina had come to adore about you - except in this moment. She didn't know why but you being so nice to Cady bothered her on another level.
She pushed down the strange feeling and patted the seat next to her. "Sit here, Y/N." You obliged and sat your stuff down before sitting next to her, leaving a bit of space between the two of you.
Lunch went normally. Well, as normal as it can get while sitting with the plastics. You had to admit, it was fun hearing all of the drama that Gretchen had info on. You were a little surprised, however, that Regina hadn't talked as much shit as you used to hear about.
Something about her had changed in the past few months. You wondered if Cady had anything to do with it. She seemed like a sweet girl, maybe she was rubbing off on Regina.
"Y/N?" Regina placed her hand on your arm and you looked at her. "You coming today?"
You blinked a few times and glanced down at the feeling of her skin on yours. You looked back up to meet her eyes. "Coming to what?"
"My house, silly. Were you listening?" She smiled at you and ran her hand down your arm before putting it back in her lap.
"Oh, yeah, sure." You nodded. The last time you had been to Regina's house was last year. Regina was sure you needed some sort of glam makeover, so she dressed you up like her own personal human Barbie.
She was sitting in front of you, practically on your lap, while applying a heavy layer of makeup to your face. You kept flinching away when she attempted eyeliner, so she reached out and firmly gripped your chin.
She finally finished and smiled at you. "There. Perfect." She had already dressed you up, putting you in one of her famous pink sweaters and a short white skirt. "Go look in the mirror."
You obliged and got up from her bed. You stared at yourself in the mirror, unable to hide the unsatisfactory expression on you face. You frowned at yourself.
Regina came up behind you in the mirror and her smile faltered. "You don't like it." She said a little sadly. You shook your head. "But you look so pretty."
You turned to face her and sighed. "It's not me. Like, at all." She studied your face for a second before walking over to her vanity and grabbing makeup remover and cotton pads. She came back over and stood close to you.
She began to gently remove the makeup from your face. "You should've said something before I started." She said quietly.
You closed your eyes, letting her get the eyeliner off of you. "You seemed so excited, I didn't want to ruin your fun."
She stopped her movements for a second before starting again. You assumed it was to get more makeup remover on the pad, but really, she found herself staring at you, feeling a little bad for making you uncomfortable. "You shouldn't let people walk all over you. You aren't doing yourself any good." She said quickly before silence washed over you.
The end of the day had been approaching too slowly for your liking. Sure you were excited to go, but you were nervous as hell. You quickly grabbed your things from your locker and left the school, heading over to Regina's iconic pink Jeep.
She sat in the front seat and Gretchen, Karen, and Cady were all piled in the back. Regina spotted you from a small distance and crooked her finger, summoning you over to her. You picked up your walking speed and stood near the driver's side door.
"Passenger side, get in." Gretchen shot Regina a look, shocked that she was letting you sit up front, but she ignored it. You silently got in the car and glanced back at the girls, shooting them an apologetic glance.
The car ride to her house was awkward. You all sat in a strange silence. The girls were fed up with Regina's special treatment of you, while you were simply confused.
You all eventually piled into Regina's house and were headed upstairs to her room when you heard a gasp behind you. You spun around and Mrs. George stood with a smile on her face. "Y/N Y/L/N, is that you?"
You smiled at Regina's mom and walked back down the stairs. She immediately hugged you. "I haven't seen you in forever dear, where'd you disappear to?"
The two of you let go. "Been busy with school and hockey, I guess." You glanced back at Regina, and it wasn't visible, but you could tell she felt guilty.
"Mom, we have things to do." The blonde rolled her eyes. You said goodbye and went upstairs with the rest of the group.
Regina sat on her bed, Gretchen and Karen crowding by Regina's vanity, while you and Cady stood there awkwardly, unsure what to do. Gretchen came over and grabbed Cady, shooting you a small look of contempt.
You stood alone for only a second before Regina beckoned you over with the curl of her finger. You obliged, like always, and sat on the edge of her bed.
"How's your face healing?" She asked quietly.
You shrugged. "I mean, it doesn't hurt that bad anymore, so I guess it's healing fine." Regina nodded at you and moved her hand up to your face, gently running her thumb over the scab on your cheek.
A heat flooded your cheeks and you couldn't help but lean into her touch a bit. The moment was sadly cut short when Gretchen started speaking and Regina dropped her hand back to her lap. "So, do we need to update Shane's status in the burn book? After what he did to Y/N, I think we should."
Karen nodded along and I noticed the confusion on Cady's face. "Burn book?"
Gretchen and Karen went in depth with showing Cady every page in the burn book. You shot Regina a glance. "You still have that thing?"
She almost looked ashamed. Almost. "Yeah, guess so." You just sighed and pulled out your phone.
The sun was setting. Cady had already left, and Gretchen and Karen were leaving. They said their goodbyes and disappeared out of Regina's room.
"Regina?" You spoke up the second you two were alone. She hummed as an answer and you continued. "Why've you been so nice to me lately?"
Regina's body tensed up. "I told you before, you fought my ex and I wanted to make sure you were fine."
You shook your head. "I don't think that's the whole truth." You spoke softly.
There was silence before Regina sighed. "Fine. I lied. Not about the whole making sure you're okay thing, but the reason why I care so much."
You scooted closer to Regina on her bed and reached out to grab one of her hands. "Then what's really going on?"
She glanced at your eyes before dropping her gaze to your hands. "It is my fault that Shane fought you. I never told anyone the truth about what happened when we broke up. He didn't cheat on me and I didn't end things with him." She took a deep breath.
You stayed silent, letting her continue. “He broke up with me. He said I liked someone else and-“ She shook her head. “I didn’t admit to it, obviously, but I didn’t deny it either.”
You gently ssqueezed her hand and spoke softly. “Gina, I- I’m sorry.” A small look of confusion flashed behind your eyes. “But I don’t get what that has to do with you protecting me?”
She stared down at her lap. “Because it was you. He said I liked you.” Her bottom lip trembled a bit. “I tried so hard not to, but clearly it didn’t work.” She let out a shaky breath.
You stated at her with wide eyes. Regina George liked you? “Is this some sort of prank or something. Did Gretchen and Karen not actually leave? Are they outside, because-“
“No you idiot.” She placed her hands on your face and pulled you towards her, finally connecting your lips together like she had been longing to do for forever.
It took you a second to process what was happening, but when you did, you kissed her back hard. You put your hands on her waist and pulled her onto your lap. She gasped softly and you took advantage of her parted lips, slipping your tongue past them and brushing it agains hers.
You groaned at the taste of her mouth and you gently squeezed her hips. She giggled and pulled away. "Call me an idiot but I'd fight any of your exes any day if it means I get this." You smiled at her and she lightly pushed your shoulder.
She leaned forward and tucked her head against your neck. "It feels really good to get that off my chest."
You ran your fingers gently up and down her back. "I'm glad you finally did."
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taglist: @reneeswif3
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underdark-dreams · 8 months ago
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It's finally here, all 7k words of it 👀 Thank you for everyone who read chapter 1, and waited so patiently!
[ch1]
Birds and Bees - Ch.2
Rolan isn't usually the type to accept help. In his defense, Tav is very persuasive—and he is very, very desperate.
Tags: Tailplay, Oral Sex, Biting, NSFW | Word Count: 7.7k [Read on AO3]
Rolan didn’t appear again for the rest of the day.
After their awkward exchange this morning, Tav felt she might be somewhat to blame. She tried to recall the bits of Tiefling etiquette she’d picked up from the Elturians; perhaps touching his tail had crossed some sort of line? Either way, the gesture seemed unthinkably forward to her now. 
Then again…Rolan was the one who’d coiled his tail across her desk like that, its tip nearly brushing her hand as she wrote. She’d never seen him do anything like it before. If she didn't know him so well, she’d have found the move almost flirtatious.
At shop’s close, Cal took charge of locking up the front. Tav caught sight of the large iron keyring he carried and realized that it must be Rolan’s. So his brother had checked in on him today, at least—that gave her a modicum of relief.
Lia pitched in to help wipe down all her equipment and carefully fill the many waiting bottles with her cooled elixir. Tav held her tongue from repeating any of the worries she’d made after Rolan during the day—but it seemed her silence was just as damning.
“Stop fussing,” Lia repeated firmly. “Rolan’s just overdue for a rest. I mean, you saw his face.”
“I did.” Rolan had never been the type to slow down or show weakness easily. To Tav, the fact that he’d willingly taken himself to bed worried her more than anything. “Just promise you won't let him turn down a healer if he needs one?”
“If it comes to that, which it won't,” Lia said down to her work. “I promise we’ll find someone, okay?”
Tav kept her tone teasing as she packed away the sealed bottles in their crate. “Hmm, yes…if only you already knew someone with some knowledge of healing.”
Lia let out a bark of laughter. “Trust me, you’re the last person Rolan wants to see right now.”
The sting of those words took Tav by surprise herself. Lia caught their edge too; she pulled up with a grimace, letting a few drops of antidote dribble onto the desk. “Shit, Tav, I didn't mean it like that.”
“It’s okay,” Tav replied, making a fuss of sealing up the filled crate. The thought made her feel rather less than okay, which she didn't want Lia to see. “I think—I don’t know. I feel like I did something rude today, anyway.”
“Oh?” Lia’s tone was light, but she allowed a conspicuous pause to stretch between them. Tav pushed through a twinge of embarrassment to turn to face her.
“Lia, what would you think if I touched your tail?”
Lia glanced up with an eyebrow cocked. “What, right now?”
“No, just��say I did by accident.”
Lia straightened to take a thoughtful inhale. “I mean…it depends on the context. You and I are friends, I wouldn’t think much of it. Unless you grabbed it up by my backside or something,” she added with a laugh. “It wouldn’t be a big deal. If I’m walking somewhere crowded, lots of people might brush against it unless I’m careful.”
Tav had moved around to reset the rest of her clean glassware as she listened, feeling marginally relieved by the explanation.
Then Lia paused her work again. “Are you saying you touched Rolan’s tail?
“You what now?”
With impeccable timing, Cal skidded to a stop at the edge of the conversation, a heavy lockbox under one arm.
Tav glanced between the two of them. “Yes?” The word came out as a question somehow; her mouth went dry as they stared at her. “Like you said, I didn't think it was a big deal. He laid it on my desk while I was working, so I just kind of—” She mimed a little picking-up motion with her hand.
The siblings exchanged a significant look with each other. 
“What?” Tav felt her face burning and knew the color must be noticeable to either of them. “How does it being Rolan’s tail make it different?”
Cal turned back to her with a frown. “What do you mean he laid it on your desk?”
“I don't know, damn—clearly I’m no expert!” She flailed her arms out a bit. “I just turned around and it was sitting there by my hand, all right?”
Another shared glance.
“That explains it,” Cal decided. It earned him a swift pinch on the arm from his sister. “Ow, hey—”
Tav looked between them again, trying to translate. “Explains what? Seriously, if I offended Rolan somehow, I want to kn—”
“You didn’t,” Lia cut in firmly. “This one here's just an idiot. It’s harder to control your tail when you're sick or tired, and Rolan’s been both, that’s all. I'm sure it was a mistake. And he shouldn't have minded you moving it,” she finished with a decisive nod.
With that, Lia snatched up the filled crate from her with one arm and grabbed her brother’s sleeve with the other. Cal stumbled slightly as she pulled him along, but he wisely held his tongue as they headed for the back stockroom. The hinges creaked shut behind them both.
Tav was left standing alone in the cavernous interior of Sorcerous Sundries, beside the desks that she and Rolan used to comfortably share—not sure if she should feel better or worse.
The next morning, Rolan was once again nowhere to be found.
He hadn’t even conjured his projection the way he usually did when occupied with research in the Tower. It was a shame; the shop was unusually busy by midday, and Cal and Lia worked without pause. When she could, Tav left her alchemy just to lend a hand with customers or make runs to the supply room.
She found herself worried to the point of irritation. Was Rolan really so stubborn that he wouldn’t take a potion? Or accept healing from someone he’d claimed was a trusted friend and colleague? She tried and failed not to be hurt by it.
Then again, Rolan had always been the type to shoulder his way through awful things alone while firmly turning down help—particularly from her. His apprenticeship, most recently. The memory made her radiantly angry on his behalf even now.
“Shit—” 
Tav jerked away from the flask and sucked on her freshly scalded thumb. She must have the ratios off again; this recipe wasn’t new to her, but the nuances had escaped her all morning. These sublimates shouldn’t get nearly so hot when mixed.
Might as well admit defeat and review the recipe before she wasted yet another bunch of black oleander. Surely there was a reference text somewhere in Rolan’s library?
Tav glanced around to the front of the shop. Cal was recording a sale at the front desk; Lia was chatting with a very large half-orc over near the conjurement runes. Things seemed well enough in hand. Tav damped the flame at her station and quietly took the stairs for the portal.
For lack of a better word: the library of Ramazith’s Tower was absolutely magical. 
Tav stood breathing in the quiet afternoon sunlight, taking an appreciative look up around her. The collection must be the best one this side of Candlekeep, with all sorts of books on spellcraft, Weave theory, alchemy, religion, the history of Toril—just to scratch the surface. She could think of no hands more deserving than the ones its ownership had fallen into.
Just as Lia mentioned the other day, Rolan had clearly been hard at work reorganizing the place. She ran her fingertips over the books’ spines as she walked around the perimeter of the main floor.
She imagined Rolan with his robe sleeves pushed to his elbows, enthusiastically at work in his book stacks, and bit back a grin. There was something so endearing about his passion for taming disorder. As she walked, she found her gaze drifting to the delicate staircase at the far end of the main floor. It spiraled upward invitingly. 
She’d never been to the upper floors of Ramazith’s Tower—nothing past the library. Certainly she hadn’t stepped foot in any of the private quarters of Rolan or his siblings. She wouldn’t even know which door led to whose.
But her mind wandered readily at the thought of Rolan’s bedroom. What it might look like…smell like. 
No doubt it was packed with shelves of books and scrolls, filled with the scent of fresh parchment and leather-bound volumes. That warm, bookish smell that seemed to be woven into his robes. The fresh hint of cedar from the way he kept his clothes meticulously cleaned and stored. And that other faint spice that she could never identify, but always picked up when he stood close to her.
The same scent that had filled her lungs with dizzy pleasure when he’d hovered close to her yesterday, chin brushing her shoulder and arm circled possessively around her waist— 
She bit her lip as heat pooled between her legs at the memory. She couldn't help it—how very fucking nice it had been to feel Rolan’s elegant hands on her, casually and effortlessly touching, as if he was accustomed to touching her much more often and much more intimately.
It would do no good to dwell on that moment. If anything, the uncharacteristic gesture was just proof of how out-of-sorts Rolan must be feeling. He was her friend, and by all accounts, he’d been too sick to leave his room for days. 
With a sudden burst of determination and a disregard for the consequences, she strode for the stairs.
Taking the curving ascent so rapidly left her dizzy. Tav planted her boots on the landing for a moment, holding onto the railing while she took in her surroundings.
This upper hall was also quietly sunlit, filled with fine carpeting and oak paneled walls; but the atmosphere was somehow less grand than the cavernous library below. More intimate. 
Two doors stood on both ends of the hall. Hazarding a guess, she stepped to the closest one on her left. Its heavy oak panels swung forward with the slightest touch.
Not a bedroom at all, but a bath—and a tremendously fine one at that. All the fixtures seemed to be wrought from polished gold. Underneath a towering stained glass window stood the deepest, widest clawfoot tub she’d ever seen.
As she gazed around, Tav caught sight of her reflection in a large glass above the sinks. Her hair was all frizzy flyaways from a day over her potion work. Indulging a bit of vanity, she paused to tame it with her fingers.
One of Rolan’s many endearing habits was his dedication to fastidiousness. Never a hair out of place, horns polished and shining, robes immaculately pressed—knowing him, with a bit of the Weave.
She must look like some sort of wild hedge witch by comparison. Tav had never minded life in the wilds as a wayward adventurer, even after the Elder Brain was felled to the Chionthar. It was part of what drew her to the career of a traveling alchemist. 
But there were moments…most of them in this Tower, with Rolan and his siblings. Sharing a meandering dinner at a real table with actual chairs. Sitting with Rolan out on the starlit balcony, discussing blood alchemy over a glass of wine as they watched the harbor.  
Tav forced her hands still and stared back at her reflection. 
“What do you want?” She muttered to herself. The Tav in the mirror had no answer. But in her mind, one softly bloomed.
Over the past months, her feelings had tumbled forward faster than she could keep up with them. Seeing Rolan, talking with him about anything and everything, working beside him in quiet moments—she found those were the moments she looked forward to most.
His offer to turn one of the Tower’s empty vaults into a greenhouse for her. Essentially giving her a permanent place in his home, if she wanted it. Was it stupid to hope that he wanted more, too?
As she stood frozen silent in the confines of her lavish surroundings, a muffled sound came from her right.
She hadn't noticed the second door past the bathtub; presumably connecting to one of the bedrooms. She realized it most likely led to Rolan’s.
She stepped toward the heavy oak paneling and raised a hand to knock. As she did, more muffled noises came from within. Tav hesitated, questioning whether she should—then leaned in to press one ear to the wood.
There were the sounds of labored breathing, as if from pain or exertion. She strained her ear harder. There was something almost…rhythmic in it.
And then—she could swear—she heard Rolan's voice groan her name aloud.
A shock of heat ran through her chest, prickling up her neck and diving between the cleft of her legs. The rapid, hot ache at her core made her gasp out in surprise, then clap a hand to her mouth lest he heard. She felt her cheeks burning with realization.
Whatever she had expected to find by wandering up here…this had never been on the list. All she saw in her mind’s eye was Rolan, sweating and panting and desperate. And that thought filled her with overwhelming want in response.
Tav pushed herself back from the door with a jolt. She turned and ran, not knowing or caring whether the ring of her footsteps on tile carried past the door. Her pulse pounded against her ears as she rushed out of the room and back for the staircase. 
Even before Tav’s foot hit the third stair, she knew she was headed for the Elfsong. And a very stiff fucking drink.
Day passed to night and back to day again in a feverish jumble. Like a vessel adrift in a vast ocean, Rolan was passed along wave after wave of searing impulse.
Had his ruts always been this overwhelming, and he’d just forgotten? Or was there something different about the drives this time around? 
Even the little dignities were stripped away, one by one. He began by conjuring mage hands at first, but his concentration faltered too many times at the cusp. He finally just settled for his own grip. Desperate sounds rose in his chest each time he neared his next finish, the likes of which he’d never utter voluntarily.
And he quickly gave up on clothes altogether. He lay naked and spread-eagle on his sheets and tried to sleep when he could, before his demanding cock inevitably twitched back to life again. The fever turned his dreams shockingly lewd whenever he did manage to drift off.
By sunset, another strong wave of need was pulsing through his core, demanding his attention. Rolan lay back against his pillows and groaned open-mouthed as he stroked himself.
Even slick with oil, the friction between his hand and the raw, overstimulated ridges of his cock bordered on painful. His finish danced out of reach to the back of his mind.
With an impatient growl, he flipped over to his knees and snatched up a feather pillow, folding it into a sleeve for his cock. A crude solution—but with his first few thrusts, the cool softness of the silk caused a moan of relief to rise in his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut as he fucked his own pillow in a desperate chase for relief.
And behind his eyelids, there she was again.
Tav appeared there so easily now. He’d tried to fight it at first—ashamed to be using her like this, without her knowledge or consent—but he found that nothing satisfied his urges so well as when he pictured her on his cock.
So he closed his eyes and imagined Tav…pliant, eager, hungry. Legs spread and center dripping with desire for him. The shameful depth of his need faded away as he fantasized her own. How her eyes might shine as she panted and gasped under him, calling him by name and begging him to fuck her and fill her and mark her as his—
What would she sound like as he took her? He conjured the timbre of her voice, always warm and musical, now canting to a whine as the ridges at his base slammed against her with each thrust.
Pressure coiled rapid and hot at his loins. Rolan slid off the mattress with legs braced, the pillow cast aside, and tugged frantically at his stiff length again. His tail arched and flicked behind him.
Through clenched eyelids he saw Tav laid at the foot of his bed, hair splayed in a messy crown against his sheets as she cried out his name. Her legs crossed behind his flanks to hold him deep inside her tight wet heat—
‘Rolan—’ She moaned louder, her heels digging into his lower back as he took her. Tav gripped two handfuls of the bedding underneath as he thrust relentlessly, chasing more of her heat around his cock, more of the delicious scent at her throat and between her legs—
“Rolan!”
“Fuck—” With a strangled gasp, Rolan’s hips stuttered one last time as his come spilled in ropes to the floor. Panting and shaking, he caught hold of the bed post with one hand as he frantically worked out the rest of his finish with the other. His head spun with the force of it.
But as he opened his eyes and his vision cleared, so did that cottony feeling in his ears. Someone was rapping insistently on the door to his room.
“Rolan, we need to talk—” Even muffled by the heavy wood, Tav’s voice was unmistakable.
“Fuck,” Rolan hissed again, this time with enough wits about him to panic. How much of that last performance could she hear through the door? He snatched up the nearest towel to wipe himself, then tripped away toward the pile of clothes on the floor that had lain untouched since yesterday.
“Go away,” he called tersely, nevertheless yanking the trousers up over his hips. Thank hells that last round had left him soft enough he could do up the laces for now.
On the other side of the door, she was undeterred. “I’m not leaving till I’ve seen you.”
Rolan cursed as one of his horns snagged the ties at the neck of his shirt. Once the fabric dropped over his torso, he whirled around to take in the state of his room. 
Bedsheets pulled sideways from the mattress; pillows strewn across the floorboards; air thick with the smell of him. Absolute filthy shambles.
Using a rush of energy he couldn't afford, he cast a mass prestidigitation spell on the space. The improvement in the air was immediate. But the resulting light-headedness caused him to stumble forward; he caught himself with a hand braced on the door frame.
“I'm not joking,” Tav called loudly, unaware he was now much closer.
He could have yelled at her to wait outside for another week, then, if he wasn't so sure she was stubborn enough to actually do so. After all, this was the person who’d defeated an Elder Brain and taken on several gods in the process.
That…and he found he badly wanted to see Tav in the flesh. Hearing her voice from just beyond his bedroom door only increased that desire. Rolan’s tail lashed behind him in helpless frustration.
“What do you want?” He asked instead, lowering his voice. No use broadcasting any more of this conversation to the whole Tower.
There was a pause on the other side of the oak paneling. “I’ve barely seen you since I got here,” Tav’s voice replied, matching his volume.
“And?” 
“And I'm worried about you…obviously,” she added. “Cal and Lia said you’re sick. But I’d feel better if we could talk face to face.” Even through the barrier between them, he could hear a strain in her voice. She wasn't lying. 
Rolan rested his horns against his braced forearm with a sigh. “Tav, I swear I'm perfectly fine.”
“Then just open the door a moment. Please, Rolan?”
It was far too pleasant to hear her say his name outside of his own imaginings. Rolan glanced down at himself. Barefoot, shirt untucked, but technically presentable. And not pitching a tent for once in the past twenty-four hours. 
“If I do, will you leave?” 
There was another pause. “If you want me to,” came the reply. He unbolted the latch and drew it open to shoulder width.
The wave of Tav’s scent hit him almost before he registered her face in front of him. The sweetness of it overwhelmed his other senses for a moment. It tested all Rolan’s limited reserves of sanity not to grab her by the waist and pull her body against him.
Unaware of the silent struggle raging in his chest, Tav stood with face tilted up toward his. Her eyes had traveled over his figure immediately, checking him over with a worried little crease between her brows. Something at the side of his head caught her eye; Rolan realized his hair hung loose and rather sweaty, exposing the slender tips of his ears.
Her demeanor changed at the sight. Tav sighed, leaning her head against the flat of the door.
“You’re even handsome with a fever,” she told him softly.
Rolan blinked at her. Perhaps exhaustion and hormones were driving him to hallucinations. “What are you—”
Faster than he could react, her palms landed on either side of his face, and Tav pulled his mouth down to hers.
A burst of colors exploded behind his eyes; the sensation of her lips moving on his kindled the dormant heat in his body to wild blaze. She notched her hands upward as she kissed him, and her fingers slid up along the sensitive tapers of both his ears.
Rolan let out a hungry, animal sound against her mouth. Both hands landed on her back and crushed the line of her body forward into his, leaving no space between them. He could feel the soft hills of her breasts pressing against his chest through clothing. The warm scent rolling off her skin and hair surrounded him with dizzying force.
The higher part of his mind was screaming at him. Rolan desperately tried to focus on what it was saying; as he did, he caught the tang of wine on her lips. The discovery gave him just enough will to pull back from her.
And he did, with one jerking step back into his chambers. “You can’t be here.”
Tav stood panting through parted lips, eyes half-lidded as they traveled over him. Rolan felt flames lick his skin everywhere they moved.
“Why not?” She breathed. “I wanted to see you.”
“You’re drunk,” he told her. He rather felt that way himself, still reeling from the electricity of kissing her.
Tav pouted at that, and Rolan wished to bite that lower lip firmly between his teeth. “I’m not drunk,” she corrected. “I’ve had a drink. There’s a difference.”
“You wouldn’t be here if—”
“If what?” Tav watched him as she took a step closer. Rolan stepped back in tandem, reflexive. She was well over the threshold now. “If I knew what was really happening to you?”
Those words sounded much more knowing than he liked. Rolan stared at her, trying to read into her face. He swallowed against the dry lump of his tongue and went out on a limb. “Which one of them told you?”
Tav shook her head. “Cal and Lia have been nothing but discreet.” 
“Then how could you possibly understand?” He demanded. The very recent discovery of how soft Tav’s lips were was making it very difficult to maintain this conversation. He could still feel the way her body had pressed into him.
One corner of her mouth twitched. “Rolan, I’d like to think I’m not completely oblivious. There have been…signs. And I’ve had a lot of time to think about them. I’ve been at the Elfsong all afternoon, just—thinking.”
At that, Rolan felt his tail twitching nervously behind him. “I see,” he replied. Pivoting, like an idiot, trying to pretend this was a perfectly acceptable conversation to have with the woman who occupied most of his thoughts when he was pleasuring himself. “And you think that I—that my—”
Tav made a quick twisting motion to get around the door. She latched it and drew the bolt closed behind them, then turned back to him.
“A lot of humans have heard rumors about Tieflings,” she confessed. “Some stupid, but some credible. I’m saying this is maybe not the secret that you think it is.” As he watched, a much deeper blush spread over Tav’s cheeks. She glanced away to the side. 
“Rolan…I grew up in the Dales, remember? Around rabbits, and cattle, and oxen. Half my friends lived on farms.”
Her analogy couldn’t be clearer. To hear her lay it out so plainly—Rolan felt the last dregs of his pride shrivel up and die. He gripped two palms over his eyes and let out a groan of abject humiliation, turning away to the middle of the room. 
How early had she connected the dots? The moment she felt him brazenly place a hand around her? Had she known all along that he was locked up here, rutting into every one of his pillows?
“Look, Rolan, I’m sorry—I didn’t know how else to say it—” 
Completely overwhelmed by his embarrassment, he hadn’t heard her follow. When Rolan finally dropped his hands from his face, he turned to find Tav standing very close to his chest.
“And I’m sorry for kissing you before,” she blurted out. “I mean, I’m not sorry for it…I’ve wanted to do that for a long time, to be honest. But it wasn’t fair. I just…wanted to know how you’d react.”
Rolan watched as her chest rose and fell heavily where she stood. The look in her eyes made his blood pound through his veins. He felt an urge to reach out and smooth back her hair to bring her in for another kiss, one he resisted.
“I care about you,” Rolan told her, before he could lose his nerve. “Our friendship. I respect you, Tav, it’s not worth—muddying things with this.” 
He felt fingers lacing through the ones that hung at his side, and despite his words Rolan tightened his grip automatically. Her hand was so pleasantly cool against the heat of his skin.
“Why do you think I’m here?” Tav answered earnestly. “I care about you, too. If I can help, I want to. Please—”
She was so close to him; Rolan breathed shallowly, but the warm scent rolling off her skin and hair nevertheless swept past him with dizzying force.
“You don’t know what you’re offering,” he managed hoarsely.
She didn’t falter. “Then tell me what else you think I should know.”
His senses were growing clouded with her; the offer that had tumbled so easily from her rang in his ears. It made the thread of Rolan’s control stretch dangerously taut.
“I won’t be gentle,” he warned. 
His inadvertent shift in tone changed something in the air between them. There was a crackling energy that hadn't been there a second before.
Tav licked her lips as she watched him. “Good.”
Rolan thought he might melt from the heat that spread across his skin. His tail snapped against the mattress behind him. If she moved a step closer, she’d feel how hard he was in his pants.
“Mating bites,” he went on hoarsely. “I’ll mark you. Quite a lot. I’ll try not to draw blood, but…I can’t promise it.”
Tav nodded. “What else?” She asked, encouraging him to go on. 
Rolan swallowed against the embarrassment. But this was important for her to know. “This time for us, it’s all about…reproduction. We become quite virile.” He nearly choked, but there was simply no other way to put it. “For the urges to pass quicker, I need to come in you.”
Tav let out a throaty hum of approval. His cock twitched in his pants at the sound. “That’s fine, I take preventatives—it’s safe.”
They stood looking at each other for another moment. That shivery, electric feeling buzzed in the air around them. Rolan wondered if she could hear the way his heart drummed against his ribs.
Tav leaned in slightly. “Well…” She said, and her wet tongue passed nervously between her lips again.
That taut thread in his chest snapped in two. Rolan crushed her up against him with a whimper. Arms circling around her waist, he nudged a thigh between her legs and firmly ground their hips together.
Tav matched his eagerness. Their lips crashed together; at the back of his mind, he felt her grip cradling under each of his ears. Her fingertips licked like flame against his scalp.
Even through layers of clothing, he could feel the heat of her. Rolan jerked her hips forward harder against his thigh; the swelling length of his cock pressed against her soft, yielding center. Tav dipped her head back from the kiss, arching into him with a moan, and her fingertips laced at the nape of his neck. 
It offered an irresistible angle at the column of her throat. Rolan’s claws raked back in her hair, pulling it to a tight ponytail. Then he tugged firmly, holding her open as his mouth descended on her neck.
He kissed and sucked along the band of muscle from her ear to the curve of her shoulder, then parted his lips to bite down firmly on her soft flesh. 
“Yes,” Tav moaned in approval above him. Her hips rolled into his, grinding herself against the hard cock straining in his pants. Rolan felt her pulse skip against his mouth. Only when he tasted sweet copper did he pull away, laving his tongue over the crimson pin-pricks of his teeth into her skin.
He took only a moment to admire the trail of marks blooming along her neck. Tav was already pulling him in for another kiss. Their lips crashed together with bruising force; her tongue explored, tasting, searching for proof of her blood against his tongue and moaning against him when she found it.
Her scent filled his mind. Without breaking from her mouth, he plucked open the laces of her pants. Rolan slipped his hand under the waistband, beneath her smalls, and slid two fingers to dip down between her legs. Her folds were shining-slick; as he nudged her in circles, a trickle of her arousal rolled down his fingers. She shivered prettily under his touch.
“You’re soaked,” Rolan groaned against her neck. 
“All because of you,” she breathed without hesitation. “Been wanting this, gods, wanting you for months. Your hands on me—cock in me—”
At the words he withdrew his fingers from her impatiently, then sucked them clean. Her sweet taste on his tongue made his cock ache. She scarcely had time to curse at the sight before Rolan gripped both arms around her waist to lift her into him.
With one quick pivot, he landed her down on the bed with his frame pressed into her. Her legs hung off the edge from the hip down, and he used the position to grind the stiff length in his pants against her cleft.
Even fully clothed, it was maddening. He could feel the wet patch between her legs, and when she arched further into him, a primal growl rumbled in his chest. 
Tav’s fingers were brushing at his sides, tugging at the hem of his shirt. “Off,” she panted impatiently.
Rolan tilted back to rip the garment up over his horns, immediately reaching for her own once his was free. He stripped her frantically, ripping her smallclothes in two before he could work them down her thighs.
When she lay bare beneath him, moaning and arching into everywhere he touched, he was overcome with hunger for more of her taste. 
Rolan gripped her hips, dragging her with a jerk to the edge of the bed. With her glistening folds displayed before him, all he could do was drop to his knees and bury his tongue between them.
The sounds she made were like sweet music as he explored her. He sucked and massaged her slit with his tongue, then plunged it as deep within her walls as he could. His eyes rolled back in his head. Her taste surrounded him; his nose brushed her clit as he ate her, further overwhelming his senses with the scent of her arousal.
“Gods, yes, Rolan—” Tav moaned above him as her hands flew to grip each of his horns. She alternately tugged them and arched into his mouth, grinding her clit against his face.
He wanted to hear her say his name like that another thousand times. Rolan curled his tongue against her walls, determined to taste her even deeper, but to no avail. Without his sharp nails, he would have sunk two fingers into her.
Instead, as his mouth left her, the ridged end of his tail looped around to brush over her slit.
“Ah—” Tav gasped from the bed. One of her hands left him to prop up on an elbow to look. 
He watched her face in adoration as his tail slid between her soaked lips, coating itself in a mixture of her arousal and his saliva. Once it was thoroughly wet, he let the heart-shaped tip push experimentally into her.
Whatever hesitation he had evaporated at the way she arched and keened. He pushed in further, inch by inch, hissing in breath at how tight and wet her walls squeezed around him. Rolan felt his cock leaking between his legs at the sight of his tail disappearing into her plush cunt.
“Taking my tail so well,” Rolan praised without thinking, then groaned. “Fuck, Tav, you’re so tight—”
“Don’t stop,” she demanded, breathless.
When he felt the tip brush the limits of her insides, he held it steady as she panted down at him. Her mouth hung open in anticipation as she watched him lean in again for her center.
But instead of landing on her clit, his mouth met with the soft skin of her inner thigh and sucked it firmly between his teeth.
Tav gave a little yelp of pain, but her walls constricted around his tail so hard he moaned against her flesh. He left two more lovely red marks against her thigh before withdrawing his tail from her, leaving only the tip inside her silk.
Then he thrust back into her and took up a forceful rhythm of stretching her open on his tail.
“Fucking gods,” she gasped, gripping both his horns again. He felt her use them as leverage as she bounced her hips down to meet him. 
“Like this, don’t you?” Rolan urged her on, drunk off her desire. “Fucking yourself on my tail—” He leaned down to take another taste of her clit, swirling and sucking as the ridges on his tail dragged more wetness out of her with each thrust.
“Yes,” Tav moaned, shaking under him as his tongue worked over her clit. “Feels so perfect in me, so—ngh—!”
When he flicked the tip of it up inside her, Tav’s words stuttered to incoherence. He felt her inner walls clench and flutter, and repeated the motion over and over with each thrust.
“I’m—oh, oh ohohoh—”
She dissolved into soft cries. The muscles at her core tensed and shuddered as she climaxed against his tongue. Rolan withdrew his tail from her with a slick release, instead clasping his mouth over her to lap down the sweet taste that poured from her. His pants were so wet he was nearly convinced he’d already come, but he felt his cock straining against the fabric just as firmly.
When her thighs collapsed limp to either side, Rolan pushed himself to his feet for a look at her. Tav’s eyes were bright, cheeks flushed with arousal, her hair coiled out in wild tendrils that framed her like a crown. Their eyes met; with both hands on his arms, she pulled him down for a kiss.
Rolan landed braced on his forearms. Their tongues slid and pushed together, trading the taste of her release. When he felt her reaching between them to undo his laces, he pulled away to loose them and strip off the rest of his clothes. 
Tav reached for his erection, and before he’d steadied himself, she gripped his length to drag the generous droplets of precum around his tip with her thumb. His hips bucked into her.
“Eager, aren’t you?” She teased softly.
“Yes,” Rolan groaned. Tav’s soft hand was around his cock for the first time; it was all he could do to locate words. He knew his face was flushed and tense with arousal, but Tav only looked up at him with appreciation from where she lay back on his bed. 
When she guided his length across the wet of her core, he rocked his hips to drag his ridges across her. She shivered slightly, still sensitive, but rolled into him.
“Need you,” Rolan panted, not sure whether he was asking her or begging. “Tav—please—”
Tav’s hand lined him up with her entrance. When his leaking tip nudged inside her, Rolan pushed forward with one slow, determined cant of his hips.
The cool slick of her walls clutched each inch of him so perfectly. A low groan rose in Rolan’s throat—this was the closest thing to real satisfaction that he’d gotten in days, and he hadn't even started moving yet.
“So good,” Tav said under him, voice sweet and husky. “Keep going—”
Rolan braced his hands against her hips. He pulled out slowly, legs shaking beneath him, then pushed back into the tight plush of her. 
His hips took up a firm pace, and Rolan couldn't bite back his whines as he plunged his cock inside her. Whatever his fevered imagination had conjured, it was nothing compared to this—he fell over her again, fangs skating against her breast as her body rocked under him with each thrust.
“Yes, yes, fuck—” Tav was just as breathless as her fingers gripped the infernal ridges on his shoulder blades. She tugged, egging him on.
Rolan took the invitation with enthusiasm. He nipped and sucked around the swell of her breast, breathing in lungfuls of the sweetness rolling off her skin.
“Harder,” Tav begged, the words vibrating against his lips. The hunger inside him surged in agreement.
Rolan’s lips fastened over one nipple. He sucked, hard, letting his tongue roll her against his teeth. Tav let out a whimper, but he felt her legs crossing around his hips as he continued to bury himself in her.
Rolan pulled away to look at her face. A mist of sweat dusted her brow; Tav’s lips were parted and twitching with silent words. 
“Look at me,” Rolan ordered, still filling her with his cock in a steady rhythm.
Tav obeyed, her eyes shining and pupils blown wide. He straightened away from her, never breaking, and laid a hand each on her calves. Then he pushed up, folding her legs to her chest and opening up her cunt even deeper for him.
“You look so beautiful like this, Tav,” he told her, thighs trembling with the effort of keeping his pace slow and steady. “Folded in half in my bed. Stretched around my cock so perfectly.”
In response, Tav’s hands grabbed her knees, pulling herself open even further to each side. “Is this how you imagined it?” She asked wickedly. “All alone—wishing it was me and not your own hand—”
Heat prickled across his neck and shoulders, but Rolan was too far gone to feel shame. He couldn't resist breaking eye contact, however, watching the way his cock stretched open her dripping cunt.
“Just like this,” he panted in answer. She took in breath to respond, but he was already slamming back into her at a reckless pace.
The lewd, wet sounds of his thrusts filled the room, layered with their chorus of whines and moans. Rolan shuddered at how slick and tight she was around him, perfectly gripping each inch of his needy length. His cock throbbed in anticipation of a satisfying release, finally, after all these times of not quite enough—
“I’m close,” he panted, gripping her hips to pull her down deeper onto his cock. The tip of him nudged against the limits of her walls. “Where should—”
“Inside,” Tav insisted, still holding herself wide for him. “Only inside, Rolan, want you to fill me up—fuck—”
The imagery pushed him over the edge, and he did just that. With a throb of release, he felt his cock pulsing and filling her deepest walls with his seed. His hips stuttered into her as he pushed his spend as far into her as he could reach.
Tav clutched his shoulders as he came, humming and moaning out praises for him. Their hips rocked together, nudging his coated length back against her deep center. 
Tav went tense under him. He forced his eyes open and saw her lips parted in surprise.
“I’m—oh—!” 
She gasped in shock as her own climax gripped her. Rolan hissed in breath at the way she clenched and fluttered so suddenly around him. His length was still hard, and his ridges pulsed against her.
As she drifted back down, Tav’s eyes finally lit on him in a daze. “What…what was that?”
Rolan was abruptly reminded of how many ruts he’d spent without a partner. “I'm sorry, I should've warned you,” he confessed. It was hard to form his thoughts while still inside her. “During the cycle…infernal traits get stronger. Like incubi. Helps attract a partner.” Somehow this explanation was more embarrassing than any of the other filth he’d just spoken to her.
Tav stared up at him. “You're saying your come is going to make me come?”
“Essentially.” Rolan shifted inside her slightly, still not confident he was done. “I apologize—I didn't think to tell you. Is that a problem?”
“Rolan—” Tav let out a breathless laugh, and the sound went straight to his chest. “This is the exact opposite of a problem. Just a bit of a shock, that's all.”
The lovely sight of her happy and satisfied under him was too much to resist. Rolan leaned forward on his arms to kiss her, trapping her legs between their chests.
As her hand stroked softly under his jaw, Rolan felt a second ache settling in his loins. He released her lips for just long enough to push her legs out over his hips, then ducked back down for her mouth.
He rolled his hips into her slower this time, but it was somehow more intense. Their lips stayed connected as he drove into her deep. Her walls were slippery with arousal and his own seed, and they gripped like pure silk around his cock. Her opening slid over the sensitive ridges at his base with each thrust.
When he dipped a thumb between their bodies to rub circles over her clit, Tav broke away with a little gasp.
“I can’t again,” she said, panting.
“You can,” he told her simply. “Hold on to me—” 
She did, wrapping both arms and legs firmly around him as if he was her anchor. Rolan dipped his head to her neck as he doubled his pace, their hips slotting together with each brisk slide into her. He breathed deep against the curve of her shoulder.
Still so hungry for release, it wasn't long before he came again hard. This time he just barely pumped his spend into her before he pulled out to look down.
Sticky white seed dribbled out of her slit, running down toward her hole. He dipped the thumb circling her clit down to swipe it back up across her cunt, painting his come across the bundle of nerves at her peak.
Tav’s thighs twitched under him, and she gripped his arm tight with one hand. She swore as he continued flicking across her clit with the wet pad of his thumb, then whined out his name.
While her next orgasm nearly doubled her in half, Rolan tilted his head to watch the sight between her legs. She was soaked, twitching, utterly intoxicating. Her contracting walls pushed more of his spend out of her; it flowed generously from her slit and soaked down into the bedding below.
Finding himself now utterly spent, Rolan collapsed on his back next to her. As he did, he realized his legs had grown fatigued to the point of buckling from the exertions. He let his body sink heavy into the mattress. 
“I made a mess on your sheets,” Tav panted from beside him. 
Rolan groaned at her descriptive language. The fact that his length continued softening was a sign his urges were finally giving him a reprieve, however. “It was mostly my fault.”
She only let out a weak breath of laughter.
Too tired to trust his shaking legs, he reached an arm blind over the side of the bed and snatched up the first fabric it touched. His discarded shirt.
Pushing himself seated, he gently reached to dry between Tav’s legs. One of her hands traced the ridges on his back as he quietly tended to her.
“How long before the next?” She asked him.
“An hour or two.” Rolan didn't look at her. “Tav, you've done more than enough for m—”
The mattress shifted as she sat up and turned his face into a waiting kiss. It was soft, just a chorus of little presses across his lips.
When Tav pulled away, she tucked the damp curtain of his hair behind one ear. “Rolan, unless you want me to go, I'm staying until it’s over.”
Rolan cast a glance over her. Despite the fact that she was naked in his bed and covered in blooming bruises from his mouth, she was very much the same Tav as ever. “Thank you,” he told her quietly.
She pushed him onto his back with a sudden laugh, landing with her chest pressed to his. “What an utterly Rolan thing to say,” she mused. “Need I remind you I just came three times?”
Tav was teasing him, and was of a mind to put her in her place—only he found that none of his limbs wanted to move at the moment. Instead, his only response was a deep hum as his eyelids drooped shut.
He felt the mattress shift as she rose and wished he could reach out to stop her. But a moment later she curled up next to him again, dragging a soft quilt over their bodies. 
Rolan turned inward to rest his head on Tav’s chest—and fell into his first real slumber in days.
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lees-chaotic-brain · 2 months ago
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swapped! (todoroki x reader)
summary: after you get hit with a strange quirk, you swap bodies with your long time crush and hero partner todoroki shouto. somehow, every single thing that could possibly go wrong goes wrong and chaos ensues. idea dump here
genre/content warnings: afab reader, reader has some sort of telekinesis quirk for plot efficiency (i got lazy sorry), suggestive, periods, reader is implied to have a heavy flow but it's really just for the plot to ensure maximal crack, mentions of blood, swearing, fluff, crack, todoroki is a little shit (when is he not)
wc: 5.9k (oopsies this is my longest fic to date)
note: this is for @andypantsx3's pretty boy summer collab! (sorry it's late andie) it is also one of my sponsored fics for @ficsforgaza's fundraiser! i couldn't fit all the scenes i wanted into the fic without ruining the flow, so go check them out and sponsor them if you want to read more! also everyone needs to go say thank you to @thelov3lybookworm for giving me the push i needed to stop making excuses and find solutions so i could post. thanks girl <3
i'm not sure how i feel about the ending, but i think it's as good as it's going to get! since i haven't written in a little while and things have been tough, likes, reblogs, and comments would be so so appreciated, and will help me get the next fic on my list done faster!!!
blog navigation | bhna masterlist | extras!
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The first thing you notice when you finally emerge from the depths of your slumber is how comfortable you were. Everything feels just right, your pillows are cool against your neck, and your sheets hold the perfect amount of warmth; enough to keep you cozy, but not so hot that your sweat is creasing the silky sheets and making you feel sticky and gross.
The second thing you notice is the very large, very male hand sprawled on the pillow next to your head. A deep male voice lets out a surprised cry as you jerk back, the hand moving with you.. It takes you several moments to realize that it had come from you. 
Your bare feet thump against the wood paneled floor as you stumble out of bed disoriented and realize where you are for the first time. Namely, not in your bedroom.
Glancing around in confusion, you wonder what the hell happened, and how you ended up somewhere so nice.. The space itself is fairly bare, but you can tell that all of the furniture inhabiting it is expensive. From the sleek wooden dresser to the geometric modern light fixtures to the insanely high thread count of the sheets, everything screams tasteful luxury. 
Where are you? You definitely feel asleep in your own bedroom. Reaching up you rake your hair out of your face and freeze. Instead of the familiar texture and length of your own hair, you’re greeted with short, silky soft strands that definitely did not belong to you.
Mussing your hair to make sure you’re not imagining things, you glance down, and for the first time notice some inexplicable things.For one, the ground is a lot farther away than it normally is, and for two, last time you checked you did not have washboard abs, or a male anatomy.
The entire situation was confusing, and you were still slightly sleep-addled. Despite that you knew that you needed to find a mirror. A quick glance around the room located one in the corner and you hurry over to it. 
Sliding to a stop you grip the edges of the little stand, frost spreading from your right hand to cover the wood while you gaped at your appearance.
Intense heterochromatic eyes stared back at you, shock filling them. Your hair was a unique mess of red and white strands, the two colors mussed with sleep. With those distinctive features, plus high chiseled cheekbones, a jawline that could cut stone and a slim yet unfairly muscular body there was no doubt about it.
You were Todoroki Shouto. At least, that’s whose body you’re currently inhabiting. His very shirtless body. 
BZZZZZT BZZZZZZT
Saved from having to fight your urges to poke at his abs by the noise, you jump, swinging your gaze around in search of the origin.
BZZZZZZT BZZZZZZT
A simple black phone flashes on the otherwise empty nightstand (does he seriously not even have a lamp??), the caller i.d. sending you scrambling across the room to the phone. 
Fumbling in your haste, you manage to swipe and pick up the incoming call from your cell phone.
Your mind is racing a mile a minute. There were only two ways to get into your phone. The first was the password, but even you forgot it most of the time. It sat safely tucked away on a post it in the safe you store all of your important documents in. The second was through face i.d. and the only person who could unlock your phone with their face was you. And since you were in his body, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume that he….Lifting the phone to your ear you speak hesitantly.
“Todoroki? Is that you?”
“Y/N?”
It was unnerving to hear your voice saying your name from the other end of the phone,
“What happened?!” You’re a little mortified to hear the hysteria lacing your words, but you can feel the panicked adrenaline flooding your veins as your body goes into fight or flight.
“I believe that the quirk we got hit with yesterday caused us to switch bodies. However, it is highly unlikely that it is permanent so it will be fine.” Even though it’s your voice, something about knowing Todoroki is on the other end was reassuring enough that some of the tension bled from your shoulders.
“That’s good.” You sigh, rubbing your face. There’s a mildly uncomfortable throbbing coming from your lower half, and you absentmindedly reach down to rub at it, forgetting you weren’t in your own body. Brushing against a bump in your gray sweatpants, you shiver as a familiar feeling spreads through your lower stomach and something twitches.
“Todoroki?” Your voice suddenly gets a little higher, the hint of hysteria from before returning to the normally deep monotone. “We have a problem.”
“What is it? Is something wrong?” 
Ignoring his questions, you stare in growing horror at the very obvious tent in the front of the sweatpants you were wearing. You have no idea how you didn’t notice it earlier, but now that you’ve seen what’s going on down there you can’t help but be extremely aware of the uncomfortable pressure. 
“Y/N? Please explain what’s going on. I’m growing concerned.”
“I-” You splutter, unable to form a coherent sentence. Finally you gather your wits enough to say something. “It’s uh, it’s hard.”
“What do you mean? What’s hard? Oh...” He trails off into embarrassed silence.
“OH?” You can’t handle this. “What do you mean ‘oh?!’ Do something!”
“Like what?” He sounds a little defensive. “What am I supposed to do from here?”
“I don’t know!” You’re shouting now. “But you have to do something! How am I supposed to sit here with your massive boner?!”
There’s a loud crash on the other end of the phone, and you jump. “What was that?”
“Nothing.” He answers a little too quickly, but his voice still retains his usual impassivity. “Anyways, returning to the problem at hand. It will go away on its own after a little while. Unless you would rather handle it yourself-”
“No!” You wince as you practically shout into the phone. “I mean, no it's okay. I feel like that would be unprofessional.”
You can hear the amusement in his voice as he responds. “I feel like this entire situation is rather unprofessional. After all, I did see your breasts this morning.”
There must be something wrong with your hearing because there’s no way he just said what you thought he did. In such a nonchalant manner at that. “Wha-What?” Embarrassingly your voice cracks as you rack your brain, frantically searching through your memories of the night before. Then it hits you. 
“You went to bed without pants, a shirt, and a bra last night.” He informs you matter of factly, and you must be going crazy because there’s no way that that’s smugness you’re picking up from him. “Judging from the temperature of your apartment I’d say that your air conditioning is broken. You should probably get that fixed.”
You’ve completely forgotten about the boner you’re currently sporting due to the mortification of it all. Of course the one time the two of you switch bodies it just has to be the day your AC broke and you went to bed in nothing but a pair of striped cotton undies.
A small part of you mourns that you weren’t wearing something sexier, but the larger part of you is screaming that he is your boss. Sure you’ve been friends for years, and you have a not so little crush on him, but you are his subordinate. This was going to make things so awkward in the office. Hopefully once this is all over you can go hunt someone with a memory erasing quirk down to wipe his mind. But maybe not yours. You kind of want to remember the toned planes of his abs and the impressive bulge in his sweats. 
Giving yourself a shake you chastise your internal voice. Absolutely not. That would be an invasion of his privacy. In fact, you should put on a shirt right this second to respect his privacy, not that he didn’t walk around with half of his hero suit burned off from time to time. Wait. A thought suddenly occurs to you.
“Wait. You have a shirt on now, right? You put on a shirt before calling me.” You laugh nervously, because of course he has more common sense than that. It’s not like he would just sit on the phone with you while your tits were hanging out, right? Right??
“Well no.” Your heart falls out of your ass and you accidentally sear a handprint into the edge of his nightstand at his casual answer. “It’s uncomfortably warm in here and without the use of my quirk I am unable to regulate my body's temperature. Aside from that, I don’t know where you keep your shirts so I prioritized calling you to discuss the situation over going through your personal belongings.
That all sounds perfectly reasonable and you would have fallen for it except for one little thing. “Todoroki. I know for a fact that I was too lazy to put my laundry away yesterday and there is a stack of clean t-shirts sitting on the end of my bed right now.” 
You hear rustling -is he still in your bed?!- as he leans forwards to check. “Oh. You’re correct. My apologies.” There’s more rustling and the sound of fabric sliding over skin as he pulls a t-shirt over his head. “It’s on now.”
“Thank you.” You pointedly ignore the fact that he did not sound the tiniest bit apologetic, filing it away to revisit later. For now, the two of you need to discuss what to do next. “I appreciate it. What’s the plan now though? I think we should meet at the agency as soon as possible and go from there.” 
“I agree.” He seems to lack the sense of urgency currently consuming you as he hums in agreement. It’s incredibly annoying. “We should probably give each other directions on what to do, and where to find the things we need.”
On second thought maybe it’s better that he’s calm and thinking clearly because that was an excellent idea. “That’s smart. I keep a pad of paper and a pen on my nightstand to jot down reminders if you want to use that. Where do you keep your paper?”
“Check my bookshelf.” The telltale sound of paper flipping told you that he found the notepad as you crossed the room and stopped in front of the simple wooden bookcase. “Where is it on your bookshelf?”
“I think I keep a notebook and a pad of paper on the middle shelf.” He sounds distracted and a little uncertain, but when you stoop down to check (it’s weird being this tall) you find a simple yellow legal pad and a black pen. “I got it.” 
“Okay.” The sound of a book closing accompanies his words and there’s a hint of some unidentifiable emotion lacing the two-syllables. 
Not thinking much of it you shrug it off, sitting down down at his desk and listening as he tells you where keeps his car keys, hero suit, and other necessities. You ask a few follow up questions, jotting down what cabinet he keeps his cologne and deodorant in, before launching into your own instructions.
“The first thing you need to do is start the coffee machine. Trust me. My body will not be happy unless you give it at least three cups of coffee or like two big energy drinks before 9 am. Next…” After you’re sure he has understood the importance of caffeine, you move on, explaining where you keep your clothes, car keys, and shoes, as well as where you parked your car. 
“Don’t worry about makeup or hair products or anything while you’re getting me ready. I know there’s a lot on my bathroom counter but it’s not necessary. But you do need to go into the first drawer on your left when you’re standing at the sink and grab my anxiety meds. They should be in an orange prescription bottle. Only take one. And please for the love of god do not forget to put a bra on. You got all that?”
“I believe so. Is there a specific outfit you want me to wear or should I just choose?” You stop and think. Left to his own devices there’s no knowing what he might put you in (his first hero costume proof of his abysmal sense of fashion) so it would be best to give him some guidance. “Could you just wear a casual sweater and some jeans?” 
“Yes. Let’s get ready and meet at the agency in about an hour. If that works for you.” There’s not much writing on the yellow legal pad, the black scrawl of your handwriting barely taking up half a page. Okay. It isn’t that much. You can do this. “That sounds good to me.”
“Oh, I also think it might be best if we kept this from the general employees at the agency for the time being just to reduce drama. Is that okay with you?” 
“Of course.” More than okay actually. Some of them were aware of your not-so-little crush on him, so it would spare you some teasing and interrogation.
There’s a couple seconds of awkward silence, and you get the feeling he wants to say something more, the tension crackling through the speaker of his stupidly expensive phone. Opening your mouth, you start to say something then realize you don’t really have anything to say. The awkward silence persists a couple seconds longer before he wishes you goodbye and hangs up.
Click. Click. Click. Clickclickclickclickclickclickclick. You didn’t even realize that you had started clicking the pen open and closed, a nervous habit of yours. Sheepishly you place the pen down on his desk and stand. Sure the vibes were kind of weird at the end there, but it’s not like anything worth making you nervous happened. The situation might not be ideal, but it wasn’t the biggest deal in the world. You could handle it. The worst part was already over. You just had to meet him at the agency, figure out what to do with the rest of the day, and wake up in your own body tomorrow. Piece of cake.
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Gaping in horror, you realize that this was not, in fact, going to be a piece of cake. 
Getting ready had been easy enough so you had arrived at the agency a few minutes before your agreed meeting time, which fortunately/unfortunately put you in the perfect position to witness the walking shitshow.
You had been idly sipping at a cup of coffee, marveling at how many packets of sugar it had taken to make it acceptable to his taste buds when he staggered in, catching the eye of pretty much everyone in the lobby.
Hunched over weirdly, he staggered in, wearing a pair of jeans that rode just a little too low to be professional and a very white, very sheer shirt that was meant to be layered over an undershirt. Or, at the very least, with a sturdy, modest bra underneath.
Alas, you can only stare in abject horror at the sight of what everyone else would assume was you stumbling in, your nipples visible from across the room, the bra that should have been on your body clasped in one hand. 
You’re pretty sure you disassociated for a few seconds from sheer mortification, standing there unmoving for several seconds. Once you had processed (and gone through the seven stages of grief multiple times) you were bolting across the floor, seizing his (your?) arm and dragging him down the hall and into the family bathroom where no one could see.
Slamming the door shut behind you, you shove Todoroki/yourself into the small space, wincing as you watch him stumble in your body. Did you always seem this weak and small in his eyes? The sound of the lock clicking as you shut the door reminds you of the current situation and you turn on him, rage emanating from every pore of your being.
“I. Thought. I. Told. You. To. Put. On. A. Bra.” You’re hurt, and seriously pissed off, neatly trimmed nails digging into your thighs as you grip your pants. Humiliation courses through your body, pulsing behind your eyes in tears that you will not let fall, no matter what. “Is this some kind of joke? Are you trying to embarrass me-”
“No.” It’s disconcerting watching yourself speak and move, but subtle mannerisms remind you that it’s Todoroki you’re looking at, not yourself in the mirror. “I wouldn’t do that to you, I swear.”
“Then what is this?” You wave your hand at your body, flinching at what others must be whispering about you. “Do you want people to think I’m some sort of crazy person who goes around practically flashing people at their workplace? Someone who has no sense of decency?”
“Of course not.” His tone is as even as ever, but you can tell that he feels bad. “People here know what type of person you are. I’m sure they’re more concerned than anything.”
The fabric of his blue hero suit unscrunches as your hands drop to your sides, chest heaving as you take a deep breath. “I hope so.”
There’s vulnerability in your voice, and for a second you find peace in the quiet of the moment before he ruins it. “Besides, I’m more worried about my reputation than yours right now.”
You look up indignantly. “Why? I did everything you asked, and I’m fully dressed so I’m not sure why you’re complaining.”
He winces as your voice raises (maybe the coffee hasn’t kicked in yet) but he hides it quickly. “I mean, from their point of view, they just watched me forcibly drag my subordinate off and locked myself in a bathroom with her. They probably have all sorts of unseemly ideas about what I’m doing right now.”
You freeze. Shit. You hadn’t even considered what it would look like to the others. “I’m so sorry. We can explain this to everyone. Like you told me, everyone here also knows you, and that you would never do anything inappropriate.” 
“It’s fine.” He gives you a genuine, yet slightly strained smile. “I’m not too concerned. However, your body doesn’t feel great.”
‘What’s wrong?” You reach out and touch his forehead. “You don’t have a fever.” Glancing down, you sigh. “First things first let's make you decent. You literally brought the bra. Why aren’t you wearing it?”
“The best way I can describe it is it’s similar to the time I accidentally ate Bakugou’s extra spicy curry, except it’s not in my stomach. It’s more in my abdomen. And I meant to wear it, I just couldn’t figure out how to get it on.”
“Okay. I can help with that.” You motion for him to lift his arms. “Take off your shirt.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “Is now really the time?” The bathroom is silent as you give him a death look. “It’s my body. There is quite literally nothing about the body you are currently inhabiting that I do not already know about. Now, shirt. I’ll help put the bra on.”
Understanding that you were not in the mood, he hurriedly pulls the shirt off, and you’re presented with the sight of your bare torso. Ignoring the strange intimacy of the moment (it was literally your own body you had no idea why you felt weird) you help him slip his arms into the straps, then motion for him to turn around. 
He complies, and that’s when you see it. The relatively small, but somewhat noticeable stain on your crotch in the back of your pants. That’s why he wasn’t feeling good. Your body started your period.
The clasp of the bra dangles in your hands as you stare at it, evaluating your choices. One. You could pretend like nothing is happening but chances are he’s going to have to pee at some point during the day so he’ll find out eventually. Plus the stain wasn’t small.
Two. Be the mature, rational adult you are and calmly explain the situation. After all, there was nothing to be ashamed of. It’s a perfectly normal, perfectly natural, biological function that comes with being a female.
And three. Just leave and go crawl into your bed until this nightmare is over. Let him deal with it himself. 
Option number three was looking pretty good there for a moment and you were calculating how fast you could escape the agency without drawing attention when Todoroki spoke. 
“Everything okay? Why aren’t you doing the hook things?” Snapping out of your trance, you clumsily clasp the back, taking several tries to get all the hooks in the same row. Patting it, you tell him to put the shirt back on before taking a deep breath. “Hey, Todoroki?”
Wisps of hair emerge from the neckline of your shirt, followed closely by your head as he pops into your shirt. “Yes?”
“So like, it’s going to be okay and I swear I’ll help you and I’m sorry you have to deal with this but please whatever you do, don’t freak out. Promise?” He tilts his head slightly, regarding you with confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but if you say it’ll be okay I don’t see why I would feel the need to freak out.”
His calm response puts you somewhat at ease, and you just rip the bandaid off. “My body just started it’s period. With you in it. That’s why your abdomen was hurting. It was period cramps. Don’t worry, I’ll get you some advil soon. There’s a small stain on the back of your pants, but it’s not bad yet. However, it’s really heavy on my first day so we’re going to need to get a tampon in and a pad on asap.”
A blank stare is your only response. “What…is a tampon? And what does heavy mean? Also, does it always hurt this bad?” A small furrow appears between his brows, and you can tell he’s overthinking.
“Normally it’s only this bad for a few days, but I’m used to it by now.” You reassure him, grabbing a tampon and pad from the free dispenser on the wall. “And to answer your question, a tampon is basically a fancy roll of material that goes up there and absorbs the blood.”
You’re doing your best to remain calm and unbothered on the outside, but on the inside you’re losing your mind because there was absolutely no way that you were about to teach your crush how to insert a tampon into your cooch because you managed to swap bodies on the worst possible day.
He looks at you pensively as you approach him with the hygiene products. “Okay. What do you want me to do?”
You pause, considering. How did you want to do this? It would be weird for you to put it in yourself, even if it was your body. The packaging crinkles in your hands as you turn the items over in your hand. The easiest route would be to have him just put the pad on, but you also didn’t want him to deal with the mess and discomfort of sitting in a pad. 
“Alright.” You clap your hands, the sharp sound echoing off the clean linoleum floors. “We’ll get a pad on first, then we’ll try the tampon. Ready?”
“Yes. How do I do that?” Okay. You can explain this. It’s not that complicated. “First things first, pull down your pants and underwear and sit on the toilet.”
A rustle of clothing and the click of the toilet seat against the porcelain bowl told you he had complied. “Wait, but like, don’t look okay. Keep your eyes averted.”
“Understood.” You choose to ignore the amusement in his voice, instead grabbing another pad and giving him a demo. Feeling guilty about the waste, you rip open one of the packages and pull out the pad. It’s thick, and made of cheap material like all free pads in public bathrooms tended to be.
Holding it up so he can see you demonstrate peeling the tab and unfolding it before peeling the sticky back off and showing it to him. 
“Basically you just have to remove the covering and stick it to the bottom of your underwear. Make sense?”
He nods, so you pass him the pad and watch him carefully peel back the appropriate backings and smooth it into the center of your panties. His eyes gleam at you hopefully as he looks up, and when you tell him he did a good job you could have sworn he preened. 
“Good job Todoroki.” A subtle frown pulls at his lips. “So for the tampon-”
“Shouto.” He cuts you off, looking disgruntled. “Call me Shouto.”
“I-What?” Thrown off guard by the sudden demand request you blink at him. “I don’t see how that’s relevant to what’s going on right now, but you’re my boss. It doesn’t seem right for me to address you so casually.”
“But you call me Shouto while we’re at work.” He stubbornly refuses to give the point up, clinging to it like a dog with their chew toy. “How is it any different?”
“Because-” You give him an exasperated look. “Some idiot decided to make his hero name his first name, so when he’s at work his co-workers are forced to use it. I don’t call you Shouto as in Todoroki Shouto. I call you Shouto as in Pro-Hero Shouto. That’s the difference.”
“But we’ve known each other for years.” He’s very matter of fact, clearly missing the point. “I would say we’re close enough for first names.”
He’s unbelievable. Of all the things to focus on right now why on earth is he choosing to argue over how you address him? “Of course we’re close. I consider you a good friend. But I wouldn’t say we’re close enough where it’s appropriate for me to address you by your first name when you’re my boss.”
“I’m currently in a bathroom with you right now, in your body, sitting on a toilet with no pants, on your period. I don’t see how we can possibly get any closer.” He had a point, and you just wanted to get this whole disaster sorted out as quickly as possible so you conceded. “Fine. Shouto. Now, will you please listen to me so we can get this over with and go on with our day?”
Using demonstrative hand motions and trying not to show how flustered you were you explained how to put the tampon in. Finally you finish, and hand him a tampon. He unwraps it, then hunches over in an awkward position trying to see what he was doing.
A red flush crawls up your neck as he quite literally examines your pussy, your insecurities running rampant, thoughts you’ve never had before occurring. Like, what if it looks weird? You didn’t exactly have a huge frame of reference, and all of your past experiences were horny hookups so you literally had no idea what it looked like from his point of view. He was probably repulsed by it. If everything that already happened hadn’t ruined any chance you had with him this was the final nail in the coffin.
A quiet splash cuts through the silence of the bathroom, interrupting your downward spiral. Looking up, you lock eyes with Todoroki, who’s frozen guiltily on the toilet.
“What just happened?”
“I, er, well I’m not sure.” Your eyes narrow. “What was the splash?”
“I did my best.” He sounds defensive. “I had a hard time finding…it…and it’s not easy to line it up and I think I did it wrong because as soon as I put it in it kind of just…spat it back out?”
Gaping at him, you’re at a loss for words before a loud, unflattering cackle rips itself out of your chest. The self-consciousness caused by the strangeness of the moment and being in the presence of your crush fading away as you reverted to treating him like you did in high school.
“Oh-Oh my god!” You’re doubled over, almost crying with how hard you’re laughing. “You can’t find it. You can’t even find the hole. You must be so popular with the ladies.”
As you laugh, a strange sensation builds in your stomach, and next thing you know it feels like you’re getting sucked into a vacuum and shot out the other end. Your vision goes black and fuzzy, the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom hurting your eyes when you finally open them.
When you finally open them and find yourself staring into the unimpressed face of one Todoroki Shouto that is. 
Seeing his face again instead of staring at yours is a relief, but it’s also unfortunate because now you are the one perched on the toilet, your pants hanging around your ankles and a tampon floating around in the toilet water beneath you. 
The two of you lock eyes, and you realize that now you’ve both returned to your own bodies it’s even worse that he’s seeing you half naked (don’t ask you why it just is somehow. Maybe it has something to do with him seeing it from his point of view instead of yours?). 
Embarrassment floods your face, and you yell at him to turn around, hurriedly grabbing another tampon and putting it in before using your quirk to retrieve the tampon from the toilet and dumping it into the trash. A rushed tug has your pants back on, and the two of you stand in the bathroom not moving or speaking. Finally you break the silence.
“Uh, well, anyways. I’m glad this all worked out, sorry for the inconvenience and how weird it was. I’m going to head home and enjoy my day off now. Have a nice day!”
Not giving him the chance to respond, you dart past him and out the door, ignoring him as he calls your name. Yeah right. Have a nice day? More like have a nice life. There was no way you could ever show your face around him again. Maybe you could call Kyoka up and ask her if she needed a new hero at the agency she shared with Denki.
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Unfortunately, life doesn’t always go as planned, and you wake up the next morning to your phone buzzing. You called in sick the night before, partially because your cramps were really bothering you, and partially because you were avoiding Todoroki. 
Blearily, you roll over, pawing at your phone before lifting it to your ear. “Hello?”
“Good morning.” Immediately recognizing the smooth, deep voice belonging to none other than the one man you were actively trying to avoid, you do the only logical thing and hang up immediately. 
A couple seconds later your phone rings again, and this time you let it go to voicemail. The sharp trill of your ringtone reaches you through the pillow you pressed over your head, alerting you that he called several more times after that. Finally the calls stop, and you emerge from under the pillows, beating back the strange sense of disappointment rising in your chest.
Ping!
The sound of your phone chiming startles you, causing you to drop it. Picking it back up, you check your notifications with bated breath.
(1) New Message From: Todoroki Shouto
Scared to read the message, you hesitate to click on it, having no idea what to expect. Your thumb hovers over the banner, the light washing over your skin as you work up the courage to check it.
Ping!
Your phone lands on your carpet with a plop as you accidentally drop it over the edge of your bed, not expecting it to go off again.
Ping! Ping!
Cautiously, you poke your head over the edge of your bed, glancing down at the illuminated lock screen. You let out an internal screech of horror.
(4) New Messages From: Todoroki Shouto
Unable to deal with the agony of not knowing what he said any longer, you scoop your phone up and tap the notification, scanning the messages, your heart dropping further and further the more you read.
Todoroki Shouto: Did you just hang up on me?
I’ll be at your place in fifteen minutes. Do you want anything?
*image attached*
Also: are these the chocolates you’re fond of? I asked my mother and sister and they told me they enjoy chocolate when they are menstruating. 
Those are, in fact, your favorite chocolates, but as much as you wanted them you wanted him at your apartment in fifteen minutes even less. The sound of aggressive tapping filled your room as you typed out a response at breakneck speed, praying to whatever was out there that he wouldn’t actually come to your place.
You: Good morning Todoroki-San. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize it was you and hung up because I was half asleep. It’s sweet of you to think of me, but those are expensive. Also, I’m taking the day off today so is there any possible way the matter you have to discuss could wait until tomorrow? Thanks!
A couple seconds after you hit send, the little label beneath the message changed from “delivered” to “read.” Then radio silence. Anxiety bubbles up in the pit of your stomach? What does read mean? Did he agree with you? Is he still coming? Too drained to deal with the emotional turmoil this was causing you, you rolled over and pulled your covers up over your head. This was a problem for future you.
Drifting off, you were awakened a short time later by your phone chiming once, then again a few minutes later, and the sound of your doorbell ringing. Surely it wasn’t…Half-closing your eyes to shield against the harsh glow of your phone, you unlock it.
(2) New Messages From: Todoroki Shouto
Todoroki Shouto: I’m here. Open your door.
I didn’t want to tell you over text, but you aren’t responding. Bakugou says I have romantic feelings for you and I think he is correct. He also said you’ve been “a mooney-eyed moron” for me since we were in high school. If that is true and you do feel the same way, please let me in. I would like to see you and care for you while you are on your cycle.
Three dots appear, signaling that he’s typing. A couple seconds later, your phone chimes again, not even giving you a moment to process the previous messages.
Todoroki Shouto: Our former classmates also unanimously agreed that I am, in fact, popular with the ladies. I’ll forgive your comment if you let me in. The old lady who lives next door to you is giving me suspicious looks. 
You blink. Rub your eyes. Squint closer at your screen. The words didn’t change, and neither did their meaning. And Todoroki wasn’t the type of person to joke around like this. Your mouth suddenly felt dry, and your pulse thundered in your ears as you realized there was only one thing left to do.
You had to get out of bed and let him into your apartment.
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taglist: @arlerts-angel @ponderingmoonlight @sunaraii @hotvinimon
as always, please please please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from any of my taglists. tysm for reading, and i hope you enjoyed it!!
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thebowieconstricker · 9 months ago
Note
Hello! I saw you wanted requests for Lucifer, and I would love any sort of angst where Lucifer ends up comforting the reader, like maybe something happened to the reader, or the reader is just really stressed and just breaks down
Ease My Mind
(Lucifer Morningstar x reader)
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masterlist link
AN: To this request: yes yes yes yes YES I just KNOW that he gives the best hugs and is so ready to comfort the people he loves. For this fic, I decided the angst is a little of everything, job struggles, moral dilemmas, and some self-doubt, so I hope I delivered. This isn’t proofread so please alert me to any errors! Thank you for your request! <333
Summary: You have a bad day at work and it triggers a breakdown. Luckily, your big bad boyfriend is here to help.
Tags: Gender neutral reader, could be read as platonic if you reeeeally squint but it’s implied romantic, heavy on the angst, a dash of fluff, Lucifer is trying his best, you guys are precious.
Warnings: Reader is afraid they’re being used by the people around them and they have lots of thoughts about being useless and others not liking them.
Also, the title is inspired by the song “Ease My Mind” by Ben Platt, go listen to it! Enjoy ya heathens!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You’ve been used by others for your entire life.
And now you were stuck in that same cycle in death.
As a young, naive, alive-person, you were desperate for some one to love you. Growing up in an environment where compassion was scare, you decided that the only way to get people to notice you was by offering to help them in some way. A favor, a ride, somewhere to crash, and, for one specific person, a place to hide the bodies. In life, you had gotten so deep into your desire to please others that you had latched onto the first person to give you the time of day. Unfortunately for you, that individual happened to have a thing for serial killing.
Looking back on it now as you miserably walked back to the hotel, tears threatening to fall down your face, you couldn’t think about anything other than how stupid and useless you were. It was your fault that they were found out, your fault that the innocents were dead in the first place, your fault you were stuck in hell and that fucker was still out there.
How much time had passed on Earth? How many more had they killed?
On most days, you could compartmentalize, putting the bad thoughts in a little box and shoving it in the back of your brain, but work had broken you today. You worked for the Vees, specifically Velvette, and it was no secret how they overworked and abused their staff. You were stuck picking up Velvette’s leftover energy drinks for as long as she had control of your soul.
And yet. You thought maybe someday, someday you might make a connection. You might impress her, or surprise her, or something, and maybe she would give you a break.
But no. Today you had been an hour late for the first time and Velvette had screeched at you, calling out all of your flaws and insecurities and bringing all of the horrible memories that you had oh-so-carefully stowed away to light. But you held back tears and did your fucking job, the emotions boiling all day and the hectic office space doing nothing to calm it.
You had needed this cry for a long time, and now there was no stopping it.
Walking along the brimstone pathways, you finally made your way to the rickety Hazbin Hotel. Its incomprehensible height only worsened your now growing headache as you walked up to the doors, grabbing the handles and swinging the heavy iron frame and red-stained glass open.
You immediately started towards your room, but you were blocked by the obnoxiously cheery Princess of Hell herself, Charlie.
Charlie’s not obnoxious, you’re so vile for thinking that.
Shit, the thoughts were getting worse and you could not do this right now.
Charlie, oblivious to your mood, smiled brightly. “There you are! How was work? I’ve got someone here who’s been waiting-“
You shoved past her, bumping her harshly.
“Not in the mood.”
Charlie frowned in confusion behind you.
“But, wait, hey-“ You ignored her pleas and- ah shit, now Angel’s in front of you.
“Hey, babe, you might wanna hang around for a sec-“
You shut your eyes tightly and moved your hands towards his chest, your fight or flight kicking in as you pushed him.
“ANGEL, leave me alone.”
Why would you yell at Angel like that? He’s just being nice.
Shut up shut up SHUT UP
Everything was only getting worse. You bolted to the grand staircase and raced up the steps. As you sped down the seemingly infinite hallways, the tears you had been fighting back for the last millennia finally fell. With a choked sob, you finally spotted your bedroom and lurched for the doorknob, swinging the door open and slamming it behind you as you bursted into your room. You ran to your bed and grabbed a pillow, hugging it tightly as you loudly cried.
Charlie only keeps you here because she needs the guests, you know. She hates you. They all hate you. They wish you weren’t here. You’re just lying there, crying, why would they want you?
The hateful thoughts were all you could hear in your mind. As you pulled your knees to your arms holding your pillow, you wanted nothing more than to disappear. To just pop out of existence and finally be free of the burden of yourself.
Then, suddenly, three knocks at the door.
“GO AWAY.” You screamed, throat on fire from your sobbing.
A voice came from outside. A smooth, relaxed, kind male voice.
“It’s me, hon.”
You froze, terrified. Quickly you climbed to the floor on the left side of your bed, blocking your body from the view of the door. You took several deep breaths, trying to steady your nerves.
“Come in.” You said shakily.
You heard the door creek open, then footsteps.
“Where ya hiding these days?” He awkwardly chuckled, clearly trying to lighten up the mood you were in.
“Just- stay over there.” You were still holding your pillow, and you gave it an extra squeeze.
“I’m a mess right now.” You sniffled.
He paused, like he was thinking. “Well, if that’s what you want, but I hope you know by now that I’m always happy to see you. Even when you’re a mess.”
You felt the bed shift. He was sitting on the opposite side.
Like a child looking for a secret, you turned around to look at the back of his head. His hat was gone, probably left downstairs, and all you saw was his sweep of blond hair.
He made a ‘hm’ sound. “Bad day?”
You nodded. Then, realizing he couldn’t see you. “Y-yeah.”
You watched him nod. “I’m sorry about that.” He fiddled with his cane, his hands tightening and loosening around it. “Would you… like to talk about it?”
You paused.
Lucifer had been a confidant of yours since you first arrived in Hell. He was the one to tell you what was going on right after you died, calming you down and offering you a place to stay. Sure, you didn’t know that he was literally the Devil, but everything about him made you feel at peace. Like you could deal with the hand you were dealt.
Secretly, though, you were waiting.
Waiting for the moment when he would reveal that he only kept you around because he needed you to do something for him.
No one was that kind, or caring, or wonderful.
He wants something from you. Why else would he keep coming back?
You had yet to answer his question. Lucifer sighed.
“You don’t have to tell me anything. I just want you to know that I’m here for you, okay?”
The voices were still wringing in your head, you were still crying, and you felt pathetic.
“I- I don’t- fuck, would you please stop acting like you care?” You knew your words were harsh but they were begging to be said.
His posture straightened in surprise.
“I do care! What makes you think I don’t care?” He sounded hurt.
Nice going, you hurt his feelings.
You bent forward, hands covering your face in frustration. A fresh wave of tears rises through your body and you loudly cried out, too scared and angry and sad to hide it anymore.
“Woah, woah, hey, it’s okay, hon.” Lucifer’s voice was nearing your form on the ground, and he was quickly at your side. You could feel his presence beside you.
He sighed in exhaustion. “Listen, I’m not- I’m not the greatest at this, but I’m gonna ask so I don’t upset you. Do you want a hug? Or a hand on your shoulder-“
Your arms were wrapped around him before he could finish his question, clinging to his waist and biting your face in his neck.
“WOAH there- well hey, sweetheart, there you are.” You could hear him smiling as he gently brought his hand to rub your back.
“I’m sorry. I- I’ve just had a shitty day at work and I’m worried about a lot of things and- I don’t want to take it out on you.” You were shaking, but he held you steadily.
“What kinda things are worrying you?” He asked.
And so you told him. In the comfort of his embrace you were able to somewhat coherently explain all the things that had been freaking you out. Velvette’s torture at work, your own moral dilemmas about your life on Earth, and you were just getting into your feelings about others using you when you felt Lucifer’s breath hitch.
He leaned away from you to look you in the eyes and gently put a finger to your chin.
“Honey, I want you to know that I know for a fact that the people here really care about you. Not because you’re an extra pair of hands, but because you’re you. You’re wonderful to be around. People like you.”
He looked at you with a warm smile and leaned towards you, giving you a small kiss on the forehead.
“I like you. I care about you because you’re worth caring about.”
You stared at him in awe, your mind finally at ease after such a chaotic day. Smiling, you leaned back into him to rest your head on his chest.
“Thank you, Luci.” You reached out and took one of his hands, holding it tightly in an effort to show him how grateful you truly were for his words of assurance.
He tightened his fingers around yours and grinned down at you.
“Always, love. Now, let’s get you on the bed, okay?”
You nodded and he gracefully picked you up, gently placing you on the bed. With a snap, you were in comfortable clothing with a warm blanket around you and plenty of soft pillows.
“You want me to hang out for a bit?” He looked at you through half-lidded eyes, clearly sleepy.
“If you don’t have anything else going on…” You offered, already half dozing off.
“Even if I did, I would love nothing more.” With an affectionate grin he curled up beside you, and you immediately went to lay your head back on his chest. As you drifted away, listening to the King of Hell’s heartbeat, you took a deep breath.
He was right. Things were gonna be okay.
You had friends.
You were loved.
617 notes · View notes
a-killer-obsession · 3 months ago
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Whoops, you got hit by a bus, and now you're in the world of One Piece. But not everything is quite as you remember it...
General Tags: afab reader, she/her reader pronouns, isekai, monsterfucker reader, vampire!kid, werewolf!killer, wyrm!heat, minotaur!wire, everyone has a human form, smut heavy, unhealthy relationships, dubious consent, serious violence, spoilers for Wano arc, starts pre-timeskip. There will be a lot of more intense kinks, please check AO3 for all current tags.
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Chapter 3 - Snake
Step 2: Get free of your cell.
WC: 5.5k
Masterlist | AO3 | Chapter 1
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Heat did in fact bring you a warm blanket and clothes, in fact he brought you several of his own blankets, which smelt of weed and musk, as well as a pillow, a long sleeved shirt that was practically a dress on you, and sweatpants you had to tie as tight as they would go to get them to stay up. He even brought you a set of fuzzy socks and a stuffed animal that looked something like a snake but with horns. You were far more comfortable in the brig now, even if there were very questionable stains on your mattress, you were at least able to stack the two mattresses in your cell and use one of the blankets as somewhat of a sheet. Heat didn't make any further sexual advances on you, you got the sense he was nervous about getting caught, though he did give you soft kisses through the bars whenever he came to visit, which you happily accepted.
You didn't see much of other top dogs, usually your food was brought down once a day by a random crewmate, seemingly whoever drew the short straw that day. It wasn't a lot of food, but Heat would sneak you more when he could. It was clear that you had him on your side, always checking if you were okay, even if he seemed highly anxious about being caught talking to you. Unbeknownst to you, someone had in fact noticed his visits, and you now found yourself face to face with Wire, who sat against the edge of the desk across from your cell, spinning his trident on its base idly.
“You need to stop taking advantage of Heat,” he told you plainly.
“I'm not taking advantage of him,” you huffed, hugging the stuffed animal he'd given you to your chest. Wire raised an eyebrow at the toy, it was obvious to him where you got it. The room stunk of Heat, his scent was on your clothes, your blankets, your skin. “I genuinely like Heat, sue me. It's not my fault he's the only one who sees I'm no danger to anyone.”
Wire made a tsk sound and stood, only needing a few strides of his long legs to come to a stop in front of your cell. “Show me your wrists,” he ordered with a bored expression.
You raised a brow at the sudden request but obediently put down your stuffed animal, walking in front of Wire and holding up your arms through the bars for him. He took your wrist in his large hand and turned it too and fro, like he was looking for something, furrowing his brows as he apparently didn't find it. He let your arms drop again and you stood patiently, waiting for him to say something.
“What are you, and how did you get here?” he asked, “You're not getting out of here until Kid gets answers, and he's getting impatient”
“I already told you, I don't know how I got here,” you huffed, “I was in my own world, where all this shit was fiction, I got hit by a bus, I hit your mast. That's the entire truth of it. What do you want from me, a three thousand word essay about the world I'm from?”
“Hmm,” Wire squinted at you discerningly, taking a few steps back and returning to spinning his trident idly.
“I'm telling you the truth, I swear,” you pleaded, “I can prove it when we get to Sabaody, I can tell you what'll happen there, without any devil fruit helping me know. I don't have any sort of foresight, I just read it in the work of fiction in my own world. I have other proof too, I know about Victoria, and the four gangs on your home island in the South Blue, why Kid and Killer don't like curry udon. I swear on my life, I'm telling the truth. There's no reason for me to lie, I have nowhere else to go and no reason to harm anyone on this ship.”
“Kil? What do you think?” Wire said without turning away from you. You let out a surprised squeak as Killer emerged from the door, seemingly having been standing there quietly for who knows how long.
“She stinks of fear, but I don't think she's lying,” he replied, standing next to Wire with crossed arms.
“Kil, I'm sorry about the lipstick thing, I-” you started, before he raised a hand and cut you off.
“Save it, it's whatever,” he tutted, “but tell anyone else and you'll be begging for death.”
“I'd never tell anyone, I swear,” you replied, holding the bars as best you could with your bound hands. “I swear I'd never betray anyone on this crew. I want to be here, I do, I promise. Just let me out of here, I'll prove you can trust me.”
“Mm,” Killer hummed, before turning and leaving without another word, an equally silent Wire in tow, leaving you confused and fearful of your future on this ship. You curled back up in bed, hugging your stuffie close to your chest, trying your best not to cry.
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“Wanna explain why you've been scenting her, Heat?” Killer accused, sitting at the round table in the navigation room with the other three commanders.
“You did what?” Kid growled, “what, she suck your dick or something? Why are you making a claim on her?”
“No… yes…” Heat admitted, “she's nice okay? She seemed so genuine, and she asked for a blanket that smelt like me, ask her yourself. She wanted me to scent her”
“So she did suck your dick?” Kid laughed, “you're as weak to a woman as ever, Heat. Don't think she's gonna let you claim her just because she smells like you.”
“It's not like that,” Heat huffed, “besides, she practically extended an invitation for any of us to fuck her. God forbid I do something as innocent as scent her.”
“You know full well it's not innocent,” Wire jeered, “but I do agree that she seems to be genuine.”
“So what, we're believing this other world bullshit?” Kid asked.
“The iron isn't burning her wrists, and she had no problem sticking her arm outside of the cage barrier,” Wire noted, “I don't think she's a witch or a demon. We know she doesn't have a devil fruit. I don't think there's any other good explanations for how she got here or how she knows so much about us”
“At the very least, she seems to believe it's the truth,” Killer added, “and she hasn't shown any aggression towards the crew. I don't know if we have any reason to keep her locked up. If what she's saying is true, then she has insider information on our future that could prove useful. At the very least she's more useful to us alive.”
“I don't trust her,” Kid grumbled, “I'll probably still fuck her, but I don't trust her.”
“So let me take on the responsibility,” Heat suggested, “I'll keep an eye on her”
“You just wanna get her in your bed so you can get more scent on her,” Wire rolled his eyes, “I saw the stuffed animal, already bringing her courting gifts, I know you're just itching to get her in your hoard”
“Shut up!” Heat huffed, a vibrant red flushing on his face, “you're just jealous she didn't say she dreams about you a lot! It's not my fault she likes me better!”
“Snake,” Wire spat.
“Bull-headed cunt!” Heat shouted back.
“Will you knuckleheads shut the fuck up and let me think?” Kid growled. Wire and Heat quickly quietened down, a slight blush still evident on Heat's cheeks as he considered adding you to his treasure collection. “Heat, you can have your whore, but if she puts one foot out of place I'll crush her fucking skull. And if I catch you acting all possessive I'm taking your toy away, she ain't yours, don't let her get in your head. She has till Sabody to prove herself, if she turns out to be full of shit we'll sell her to an auction house while we're there. At least then we'll get back what we spent feeding the bitch”
“Aye aye captain,” Heat stood excitedly, eager to get you out of the cell.
“Oi, Heat,” Killer barked before Heat had a chance to leave, “I know you know what I'm about to say; don't fucking try it, understand? Like Kid said, she's not yours to claim, so don't fucking try it.”
Heat knew exactly what Killer was referring to and grumbled in annoyance. “I wasn't gonna…” he mumbled like a scolded child.
“Oh come off it, like you haven't had a clutch ready to go since she came on board,” Killer huffed, “I can smell it from here, don't fucking try it.”
“Fine! Whatever!” Heat yelled.
“And take her to House tomorrow,” he continued, “if you're gonna make her your fucktoy you better not get her knocked up the old fashioned way either. And have her tested, if she's so desperate to be the ship whore she better be fuckin’ clean.”
“Roger that,” Heat grumbled, almost slamming the door behind him as he hurried out of the navigation room.
“He's gonna try it,” Wire noted.
“Hundred berri he tries it in less than two weeks,” Kid added.
“One week,” Wire replied.
“One month,” Killer bet, having at least a tiny bit more confidence in Heat's ability to hold off.
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You heard Heat's hurried footsteps before you saw him, the creaking of the ladder-stairs as he descended them and practically skipped into the room. “Someone's got a pep in their step today,” you noted, “come for another taste or what?”
“Even better!” Heat smiled as he fumbled with the keys on his belt, “Kid said you can come out, just gotta stay by my side so I can keep an eye on ya”
“Oh, okay!” You stood up quickly, gathering up your blankets and stuffie, but not yet picking them up since you still had cuffs on, “oh, does that mean I'll be staying with you?”
“Yup!” Heat replied a little too eagerly, opening the cell door and fiddling with the keys again to find the one for your restraints. You held up your wrists for him and he removed the cuffs, letting you properly stretch your arms for the first time in several days. Heat grabbed the blankets and bundled them up in his arms, leaving you to grab the pillow and stuffed snake thing. “Come on, I'll show you my room!” He said excitedly.
You followed him obediently as he led you back up to the main deck, unsurprisingly followed by multiple sets of curious eyes, though this time a few of them were noticeably scrunching their noses, like they'd caught a bad smell. You chalked it up to having had no shower in what must have been a week, and made a mental note to ask Heat for a chance to bathe. He led you up two flights of external stairs, one that led to the covered area that held the cannons, the second up to the stern castle, which looked a lot like an actual castle. Strangely, despite being on a mostly wooden ship, the stern castle was made of light grey brickwork, with green, torn fabric draped over the slightly sloped roof section, and arched, ornate windows scattered around the main floor. The entire stern castle was surrounded in a thin deck, with a single arched door at the front leading inside. You followed Heat in, finding yourself in a small hall with a single door and staircase to your left, and more doors to the right as the hall bent around a central section in a U shape, presumably circling the base of the mizzenmast that protruded from the stern castle. There was also an exceptionally tall ladder directly in line with the entry door that disappeared into the ceiling, which Heat explained cut through the next floor and went all the way to the deck on top of the stern castle.
Heat opened the first door on the right, that same familiar scent of weed and musk you'd grown accustomed to hitting you like a truck. The room was a little dark, with fabric pinned over the windows like permanently shut curtains, blocking out any daylight from entering. He made no move to turn on an overhead light, but there was a string of fairy lights hung around the entire circumference of the room, towards the top of the walls, that gave the room a soft, romantic lighting. The room was messy, with a large bed that seemed like a king size but longer, presumably to account for his height, pushed against the wall the door was on. Opposite it was a small indoor greenhouse setup, with several shelves holding what you assumed to be weed plants behind frosted plastic, condensation making the plastic wet on the inside. There was a short set of drawers to your left, and a side table with a bong on it next to the bed, but other than that, what surprised you the most about the room was the sheer amount of stuffed animals.
They were everywhere, littering every corner and every surface in tall stacks, stuffies of every size and shape, lining the long side of his bed along the wall and stacked in a tall pile in the corner of it. It was frankly fucking adorable, and you couldn't help but let a little giggle out. You threw yourself on the bed, letting the mountain of stuffies all fall on you and cover you in a great avalanche, a riot of giggles coming from under the pile as you kicked your feet gleefully. If you'd been able to see Heat's face, you would have known you'd made a mistake in being so enthusiastic. You'd unknowingly just made something possessive click in his brain, compounding yourself into his prized hoard, making yourself one of his treasures.
His form shifted before he could stop himself, legs changing to a long tail, covered in dark dusty pink scales, wrapped with deep red-brown thorn line markings, much like his tattoos. His canines grew to fangs, his nails to sharp black claws, and from his hair emerged two large horns that curled slightly inwards at the ends, black at the base then transitioning to dusty pink and bright fushia at the tips. The end of this tail flicked and shut the door, the sound prompting you to finally emerge from the mountain of stuffed animals with a final laugh that was cut short as you took sight of him.
Raised up on his tail, he very nearly hit the tall ceiling, looming over you as he slithered closer. Your first instinct was to scream, but for some reason you couldn't bring yourself to do it, too enamoured with the way his scales were almost iridescent where the light caught them. Your back was forced flat to the bed as he moved to tower over you, the base of his tail pressed between your legs as his arms supported himself on either side of your torso, your chest heaving with half fearful, half aroused breaths.
“You okay?” He asked curiously, raising a brow as he smelt your fear scenting the air, his senses elevated in this form. “You're acting like you've never seen a Wyrm. Do you not have my kind where you come from?”
“No, we most certainly do not,” you breathed heavily, “a …wyrm, you said? Like a dragon?”
“I'm surprised, most people would say ‘like a snake?’, which is frankly highly offensive,” he joked, “did the manga in your world not say I was a wyrm?”
“No but… it also never explained how you breathed fire,” you admitted, your eyes travelling down now to the base of his tail, noticing the slit between the scales where his dick would usually be. It made sense, Heat was not a character a lot was known about, and the world of One Piece held all sorts of strange species. It explained why he could breathe fire, though there was the chance still that this was a zoan type devil fruit. The way he talked about it made it sound like a somewhat common thing here, so perhaps it was just a species not really shown in the manga. Your eyes travelled again and noticed his fangs and his pretty horns, and you couldn't help but reach up and touch the pink tips, wondering if they were as sharp as they looked. Not sharp enough to draw blood, you discovered, but they would certainly hurt if he headbutted someone. “So pretty,” you mused. You understood now what the stuffie he'd lent you was, and it was all the more adorable that he'd given you one that looked like him.
“You're not afraid of me like this?” He asked hesitantly. Even those familiar with his kind tended to be anxious around him like this, he was large and dangerous looking, it was a natural response.
“Should I be?” You replied plainly, fiddling with the strings on his corset style top. He lifted himself to remove it, and you could see now that his nipples were pierced, which didn't surprise you in the least. You openly ogled his bare torso, so very well sculpted, running your hand down the center of his chest.
“You're part of my hoard now, I'm only ever gonna protect you,” he said softly, leaning down and brushing his nose against the crook of your neck. You didn't mean to but a quiet whimper escaped you as his fangs brushed against your pulse point, the threat of his bite making you a little horny. He could smell it, your growing arousal, and made a deep rumbling sound that vibrated in his chest, entirely pleased at the sweet smell that now overwhelmed the previous scent of fear. He looked and sounded dangerous, but it only added to his allure, and you couldn't help but roll your hips towards him, dragging your core against his tail with a needy whine. You knew what you were, you knew you had secret desires to fuck monsters, you'd seen parts of the internet your parents would disown you for. This strange new form catered so well to those primal desires, arousal building quickly as you watched the light catch against his fangs. The growling sounded again, this time accompanied by movement between your legs. You pushed him off you slightly to look, eyes widening as you watched two vibrantly pink appendages, tapered to dull points and lined along the undersides with bumps, emerge from the slit on his tail. You realised with a gasp what you were looking at. Two of them, oh fuck there were two of them. This world was the fucking best, you should have gotten hit by a bus years ago.
“Is this okay?” He asked, watching you stare at his two cocks, suddenly feeling a little self conscious. He didn't often show this form, let alone to women he hoped to bed.
“Heat, I mean this in the most genuine way possible,” you replied, fire pooling at your core, “fuck me, please”
“Are.. are you sure?” He asked, sitting back on his tail, feeling a little unsure of himself. Once again his low self-esteem told him this was a trick, he'd always had trouble accepting compliments at face value, especially since receiving his Glasgow smile.
“Why would I not be?” You asked him, cupping his face and running a thumb over his scarred cheek, he looked as though he might cry any moment. Sweet soft boy, this was why you loved Heat so much. You couldn't understand his unease though; he was massive, ripped with muscles, incredibly cool and scary in a way that made you hot with those fangs and horns. His tail was beautiful, you wanted to touch it, not to mention his two cocks that looked even thicker and longer than his human dick. Why would you not want him? “Heat, are you okay? You seem nervous. Am I being too forward?”
“It's just… I don't usually… show this side of myself to women,” he admitted, “unless I'm paying them… I'm scary enough as it is in my human form”
“Oh Heat,” you cooed, understanding now his anxiety, “you're beautiful, and incredibly sexy. Can I touch you?”
“Y-yes,” he stuttered, laying back against the mattress next to you as you guided him to relax with gentle motions. You sat up to reach more of him, running your finger down his well sculpted abdomen, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind on his skin until your hand met the spot where his scales began. The scales were smoother than you expected, even if you moved against the grain you didn't catch the edges of the tightly knit scales, though there was a pleasant bumpiness to them. You wondered how it would feel to slide against them, feeling yourself grow wetter at the thought.
He whimpered a little as your hand ran down his tail, feeling the smooth scales under your palm, considerably hotter to the touch than you expected. You wondered if he'd ever been touched like this; if he'd only ever been with women in this form when they were paid, perhaps nobody had ever taken the time to truly explore this form. You moved slowly, running your hands over his entire tail, hearing his small whines as you played with the tapered tip that flicked a little as you touched it. Curiously you brought it to your mouth, and he groaned as you ran your tongue over it, draping an arm over his face as he flushed bright pink.
“Ah- ah- sensitive-” he whined, the tip of his tail almost vibrating in your hand. You took it in your mouth and he gasped, his chest heaving as you sucked on the tip of his tail. He was breathing heavily as you let him go, and you stripped off your clothes before straddling his tail, pressing your wet core against his scales. “You can- you can ride me if you want,” he said shyly through heavy breaths.
“Do you want me to ride you, Heat?” You asked mischievously, “Do you want me to use your tail however I like?”
“Yes, yes,” he whined, “use me however you want princess, please”
You shuffled to get a little more comfortable before you pressed down hard and began to grind against him, the strange new texture feeling surprisingly good against your cunt, slick transfering to his tail and lubricating your movements and you rolled your hips against him. You immediately struggled to hold back your moans, having been throbbing with need at the mere sight of those two proud cocks that sat in front of you and the way he whimpered at every delicate touch you gave him, immensely relieved at finally getting some much needed friction. He sat up a little, supporting himself with one hand while the other held your hip, helping you find more pressure as you grinded on him. Heat's eyes were wide as he watched you enjoy his tail, never in his life had anyone used him in this way, your juices glistening against his iridescent scales as the wet patch grew larger with every roll. His cocks were twitching as he watched you, his eyes almost black from how blown out his pupils were. Precum leaked from his cocks just watching you pleasure yourself with his body. Heat thought you looked unbearably beautiful like that, lost in your pleasure on top of his tail, a shining jewel worthy of his collection. Never had he thought a woman would accept him like this, and yet somehow you seemed turned on by it, a fact he couldn't wrap his head around but certainly wasn't complaining about.
“Hnng, feels good~” you mewled, grinding faster as you felt that coil in your abdomen begin to tighten. Just having the opportunity to play with a beast like Heat was making you hotter, his tail slapping excitedly against the mattress behind you as your orgasm drew close. You looked down at his two cocks, twitching with need in front of you, noticing now the way the piercings on his human form seemed split between them, with two ladders in the higher shaft, and the remaining ladder and tip on the lower, though being that he no longer had defined heads to his cocks, the tip piercing was considerably lower down his shaft. There were swollen bumps along the underside of each that you had no doubt would feel incredible inside you, the bases of each shaft incredibly thick and tapering to the pointed tips, comparable to tentacles. Precum beaded at the tips and rolled down the undersides, your eyes following the beads as they travelled, making you unconsciously lick your lips. They were not unlike the dildo you had back home, and your moans grew harsh just looking at them and considering what one would feel like inside you, knowing you surely couldn't take both, and suddenly your coil was snapping violently, gushing your release over his tail and shaking on top of him as you struggled to stay upright.
You gave him a crooked, fucked out smile as his tail supported your back, still twitching a little in the afterglow of your orgasm. You slid yourself backwards, leaving a wet trail along his tail as you shuffled down it, until you were far back enough to lean down and run a tongue against his lower cock, taking the other in your hand. They were almost scaldingly hot to the touch, but it didn't deter you from running your tongue up one then the other, playing with them with your tongue, like a greedy child with two icecreams.
“They're so big,” you purred, “how am I gonna fit them inside me?”
“I can warm you up,” he offered, “with.. um.. with my tail. If you want.” He'd always wanted to penetrate someone with his tail, but given how scared people usually were he hadn't ever dared to suggest it. He had a feeling though, given your enthusiasm for this form, that perhaps you would be willing.
You looked up at him wide eyed, was he really offering to fuck you with his tail? “Oh fuck yes,” you replied eagerly, arching your back so your pussy was more exposed behind you. You felt the movement underneath you as his tail curled and shifted, until the tip was brushing against your bare cunt. “Hnng, yes, fuck. Fuck me with your tail Heat~”
You both whined as his tail rubbed against your pussy, searching for the entrance, successfully finding it and sliding in. Heat was slow and careful, he'd never tried this before but he knew his tail was sensitive, so he'd wanted to try this for a while. It didn't feel as good as getting his dick wet, but it was pleasant and sent shivers through him as he felt your gummy walls squeezing around him. You licked at the tips of his cocks, holding them together to take both ends into your mouth at once, moaning around them as his tail pressed in further and began to stretch your cunt, thrusting in and out slowly. You switched your focus to one cock, still servicing the other with your hand, bobbing your head at the same pace as his tail was pumping into you. You couldn't hope to take all of him in this form, his girth far too much at the base for your lips, but you could get a good two thirds in before the corners of your mouth stung too much from the stretch.
He pushed his tail into you further, getting it close to the girth of his cock, getting you used to the stretch. He didn't want to get you entirely stretched out, he wanted to feel your tight cunt struggling to take him when you finally sunk down on him. His tail curled inside you, focusing on your sweet spots, making you vibrate his dick with your sweet moans until you let his cock go with a pop. “Ahh, gonna cum, fuck,” you whined, your hands pumping his two cocks in a messy unfocused pattern as he fucked you faster and a second orgasm ripped through you, juices dripping down Heat's tail.
“Want- want your cock,” you whimpered, practically collapsing on him. You had hoped to ride him while you held those pretty horns but you simply didn't have it in you anymore, your legs turned to jelly and shaking.
Heat rolled you gently until your back was against the mattress, your thighs wrapping around him as he laid on top of you, hooking your ankles together behind where his ass would be. You felt his cocks heavy against your abdomen as he looked at you like you were the most precious thing he'd ever seen, his delicate human treasure. “Please,” you whined, feeling unbearably empty without his tail in you.
“Shh, I'm gonna give you what you want, my jewel,” he cooed, reaching between your bodies to position his lower cock, the thin tip easily sliding inside as the higher one laid against your clit. You took most of him with ease, his tail having prepared you well, until he began to reach the thickest part of his cock and your cunt began to strain against the stretch. Heat groaned as he bullied himself into you, whispering praises as he bottomed out, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix and making you wince. He withdrew a little, not wanting to hurt you, until the pain melted from your face.
“Look at you, taking me so well,” he groaned, sliding back out slowly and pushing back in fast, making you practically scream. He made harsh thrusts, unable to restrain himself now that he was buried in your heat, grunting with each deep slide of his cock, the additional stimulation of his higher cock grinding against your clit with every thrust making you moan loud enough for the whole ship to hear. “Good girl, fuck, good girl,” Heat grunted, the wet squelch of his cock in your soaked cunt filling the small room. “Sweet little treasure, all mine, all fucking mine,” he growled, his speed picking up as his fingers left bruises on your hips, claws sinking in and pricking your skin. “So pretty, my jewel.”
“Ah, Heat, so good, so good,” you whined, making your own marks on him as your fingernails dug into his back. The way the base of his cock pressed hard against your g-spot with every deep thrust was making your coil pull tight again, a fucked out smile spread on your face and your mind entirely lost to the pleasure Heat was giving you. He felt your pussy flutter around him, incredibly aroused as he saw that grin on your face and the way your eyes were rolling, your tits bouncing with each thrust.
“Ahh fuck, gonna cum,” Heat whined, his pace turning desperate and erratic as he got lost watching your breasts bouncing, “so pretty, so fucking pretty, gonna cum”
“I wanna- I wanna be covered in it,” you moaned, reaching down to jerk off the cock that wasn't inside you. He made a sharp whine as you pumped him fast, your walls clamping down around him giving him the final push he needed to finish, doing his best to work you through your orgasm before he pulled out and held his cocks together, jerking himself off till impossibly hot cum shot out in ropes across your abdomen and breasts, your thighs squeezing tight around him as your body shook.
Heat collapsed next to you, his cocks slowly retreating back into his slit as you both panted hard. Your stomach was coated in his seed and you couldn't help but run your fingers through it, playing with it while your clit throbbed from overstimulation. “So hot,” you sighed between heavy breaths, “that felt so fucking good.”
“I'm glad you enjoyed it, my treasure,” Heat purred, rolling to his side and intertwining his tail with your legs. Heat felt unbelievably accepted and vulnerable in this moment, having never experienced such pleasures with a woman in his true form. He felt wholly accepted, the anxiety and fear of rejection he felt at the start entirely wiped away. “We should get you cleaned up though”
“Mmm, I could do with a shower,” you mused, making circles in the hot cum on your stomach with your index finger. Heat near purred at the way you willingly rubbed his scent into you by playing with his cum, only further adding to his possessiveness.
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[Next Chapter]
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trashmouth-richie · 2 years ago
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older! eddie x fem! reader
summary: when your bf skips town /‘s you can’t pay your rent, you put on your best outfit and knock on your landlord’s door begging for forgiveness
@eddiemunsons-missingnipple for the Eddie edit
w/c: 3.8k
t/w: 18+ ONLY —heavy smut, degrading, hair pulling, mouth fucking, choking, edging, switch!, daddy!kink
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He was an asshole to extraordinary proportions. A life full of mold covered lemons would do that to a person. You were nervous, to approach him. But something told you he’d hear you out— listen to you. Maybe even be sympathetic to your pleads.
Yeah right.
As if he were made of anything but pure hatred. Toxicity swirled in his veins, his poisoned skin covered by decades worth of tattoos; all dark and sharp edged.
His peppered scruff balanced out his naturally soft eyes. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. A scowl that would make any resident of Forest Hills Trailer Park think twice about crossing. But you were left with no choice. When Trey had ditched town with the human bicycle Chrissy Cunningham, you were short on rent. Bills were tight, and you often ate in the dark, or by candle light. Anything to save a bit of money.
And that’s what led you here. Standing at your landlord’s door. Putting on an extra swipe of lipgloss, making sure to curl your hair, and wear a low cut tank top, the only push up bra you owned, and some cheap lashes from the mall— you knocked politely on the sun faded door. Hoping for some sort of a miracle that Mr. Munson would take pity on you.
One knock. Nothing.
Another. Still nothing.
It’s not until you are slapping your hand into the door that a voice behind you startles you nearly out of your too short skirt.
“What’d’ya need?” He’s covered in motor oil and grease, standing below you on the dirt and sparse grass covered ground, wiping his hands on a once red rag, a ring of sweat around his white tank top, bandana wrapped around his head, cigarette hanging gingerly from his slack lips.
He remembers the day you had moved in, it was freezing cold in early February. All by yourself, moving things one at a time in a shitty old Buick he hadn’t seen around since his high school days. He wanted to offer his help, something he didn’t give to anyone. But something about the way you smiled as he showed you around the dingy shithole of a trailer, voicing your opinions on what could be spruced up, made him hate you a little bit less.
Everyone in the park knew not to bother Eddie. He was a grumpy, mean son of a bitch and his patience was rail fucking thin. The Johnson’s dog went missing? No shit, he was the one who called animal control to come and pick it up, fucker had fleas and probably rabies. Can I paint the kitchen? Fuck no. The sink isn’t working at lot 8. Call a mechanic. And just for the annoyance he upped their rent $100.
Seeing you on his steps, dressed like that, sparkly tits, and your bra showing through your tank top had his dick twitching in his pants. Of course you were a smoke show, and he was honestly surprised to hear that ol’ what’s his face ran out on you with Chrissy Cuntingham. Her shit had been rode hard and put away wet more times that could be accounted for. Bitch still wore her homecoming tiara and had her green and orange pom poms in the back window of her car— despite the fact that graduation was more than 25 years ago. Worse than an alleycat, and smelling like one, Chrissy mostly kept herself busy by buying the minors alcohol or showing her many “party tricks” to the bachelors of the park. Sitting on his porch, smoking a joint like he did every night, Eddie took note of the black jeep that showed up every Thursday outside trailer 6, a graying head of suave douche boy hair could only be one person, Jason Carver.
He took note that your trailer, right next to his, was full of screaming and yelling when your boyfriend was home. A noise all too familiar in the trailer park, bouncing off Eddie’s ears like birds chirping.
But when he was gone? The window to your bedroom would be cracked open ever so slightly, propped open with the soft cover of Stephen King’s IT. The kitten purr of a vibrator and your delicate moans sang out to him. A siren amongst lonely fishermen, calling out to them in song of entrapment only to eat their souls, bodies never found amongst the dark sea bed. At first he thought it was wrong to listen, wrong to hear your pleasuring yourself, but he had sworn he heard his name on your lips, more than once. Fisting his cock angrily to your voice, your wet mouth, swollen lips from him sucking on them, pretty little pussy aching for him. He didn’t need playboys anymore when he had your face to imagine. And imagine he had.
What would your sweet pussy look like wrapped around his cock? Would you swallow his load down your throat if he asked, demanded you to? Sweet thing like you wouldn’t have to worry about anything if you were his. The choked laugh after he finishes all over his hand makes him shake his head at the idea. He didn’t know your age, old enough to be on your own but definitely not 45 like he was. Visions of your sugar plum tits bouncing in his face as you rode him on the itchy couch in his living room, lulled him to sleep most nights.
He saw a peek of a tattoo on your side when you were hanging clothes on the line. Your body drove him in, his eyes melting around your curves, the swell of your ass in the jean cut off shorts you wore. When you saw him staring you waved him over, a devilish grin on your lips, a wanting sparkle in your eye.
He knew your type, trouble. And oh fuck the trouble he would love to be in. He’d never volunteered to fix anyone's appliances. But your silky saccharine voice had him calling a mechanic in a few days time, would have been sooner if he could have tore his eyes away from your tanned legs, but he kept those extra days all to himself, whimpering at night with a sore cock your name on his breath. It had been seven months of you living next door, your vibrator turned on like clockwork every day your boyfriend left for work.
And now here you are. Looking at him with “fuck me” eyes and a glossy smile on your lips. Those same lips purring out pleasantries about how fuck face left you and you were needing an extension on rent. The swell of the summer sun hit your cheeks, making you glow like some love sick angel on his steps. He was fucked. And soon— you would be too.
“So what?” He tried to gamble, tried to keep his hard facade, “an extension and then what’s next? You’re gonna tell all your little friends that I give hand outs to the needy? Oh no doll, not today.”
He pushes his way around you and into his trailer, the pungent smell of too strong incense burns your nostrils as you hold the door from him shutting it.
“Please, Mr. Muns—.”
“Eddie,” he grumbles.
“Eddie, please— I’m begging you,” the glimmer of a tear welling in your eyes, your voice dipping low into an almost whisper as you made your way inside, shutting the door behind your back and feeling around for the lock, “I’ll do anything.”
Eyes dripping of sex appeal and lust, you tip your tongue to the center of your top lip, eyeing his tightened jeans and you swear you see his dick twitch beneath the stretched denim.
Cock at full alert he shakes his head, his head dipped low and eyeing you up and down, lip bit between his teeth. A low groan in his throat, he talks in a gritting whisper, “Don’t start something you can’t finish sweetheart.”
“Oh I plan on finishing, big boy,” you hum walking towards him, devilish grin planted on your lips, “I don’t think we’ll have a problem with that, will we daddy?”
Fuck. Not even touching you yet and Eddie is rock hard, he could probably cum if you asked him to. Thanking a higher power that he wasn’t twenty anymore, he’s got years of stamina built under his worn leather belt. “You’re about to write a check your ass can’t cash doll, you sure this is what you want?”
“stop talking,” you breath, inches from his lips, he can taste the peach flavored lipgloss on his tongue, “and fuck me.”
Not needing any more of an okay than that, Eddie turns you around in a swift motion, a gasp escapes your lungs and he catches you before you stumble over your heels. He drags your hips down into him, your ass round and luscious on his stiffened length. He rips the neck of your tank top open exposing the mountainous swell of your chest and your cheap K-Mart bra. Pinching your laced nipples between his rough fingers, he rolls them like joints as his hot mouth assaults your neck, painting you, he sucks bruises into your neck, licking them better with tiny flicks of his satanic tongue and ending in a bite, marking you as his.
Pushing your ass into him you can feel his cock. His achingly girthy length has you soaking your panties, dripping wet just for him. His smokey smell is mixed with sweat as you angle your neck back against his shoulder, moaning into him as he sucks like a vampire into your neck. His stubble rubbing against your skin.
“Eddie,” you moan breathless into the humid air of his trailer.
He groans, your body pushed tight against him has his head spinning, drunk off your touch. Grabbing your skirt and yanking upward. Dripping in anticipation, your panties could be wrung out, your arousal pooling from the center and beading slowly to the ground. He hisses and hums when his finger first skates along the slick of your panties with a schlick, “fuck, all this for me doll?” He’s playing now, his thick fingers moving in lazy circles around your clit, your creamy pussy clenching desperately on nothing, you nod with a whimper.
“You gonna make all those pretty little noises I hear from your window once that dumbass you let fuck you leaves the house every day? Hmm? Didn’t think I could hear did you?” His cocky bravado kicks his cock up on your ass, sending a moan through your body as you rub deeper into him.
Quite the opposite actually
Purring into his neck you lick the expanse of skin he’s showcasing. Blowing hot on the slicked spit from your tongue, you rotate your hips to angle his fingers better on your clit, the sensitivity rolling like an electric current through your veins.
“I did it on purpose,” you confess breathlessly as Eddie’s fingers stop. “Watching you stare at me for months, I knew you’d touch yourself over me.”
Eddie groans gutturally twisting your body into the front door, back hitting the broken shades with a thud. In milliseconds he is on you, hot tongue lapping up your neck and biting with enough force to break skin. No time to be patient to have you undress for him, he shoves your skirt up tipping your panties clean off. Your exposed pussy shuddering with his blown breath on your slick core. His devilish eager tongue expertly licks and teases your clit. Humming with each jerk of your body as the sensitivity makes you squirm. Tongue wiggling inside of you like an eel, your hands are gripping his hair for dear life, yanking at the roots like you’re pulling weeds. Your thigh is on his shoulder, the leg on the ground begins to shake as your first orgasm rips like a tidal wave through you. Head thrown back against the door, moaning loud enough for the entire park to hear— you don’t care.
Your noises stir Eddie’s arousal even more. Whimpering as he grip him impossibly tighter he a broken, “fuck,” into your folds as he goes back for seconds, “you’re gonna get me into trouble, pussy so fucking sweet.” His lips are wet, your arrival shining like pretty lipgloss allover hos chin and lips. Already spent from the teasing and the damn breaking, Eddie hikes you up over his shoulder, your bare volumtuous ass bouncing with every step. He throws you onto a king sized bed, unmade and reeking of weed. Rolling papers on the night stand along with several lighters you aren’t given much time before Eddie kicks his jeans off, boxer briefs do him justice as his cock jumps to his belly when he unthreads his legs from them. Pearly beads of pre cup drip from the thick head.
Eddie leans forward and places a thick hand on your neck, your vision blurs and returns with each grip he threatens and releases his teeth biting your lips, slow drops of blood seep from his bites, he licks the wounds clean.
“Havent used rubbers since the 80’s and I won’t, so are you on the pill or are we ending this right now?”
“Pill,” you warble, chords of your neck strained against his hand.
“Thatta girl,” he praises, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, “I’m gonna fill you up full with my cum you’ll be leaking it out for hours.. maybe days.”
Tears sting your eyes at the thought of his glorious pearly cum deep in your walls painting them pretty, “please daddy, I need it.”
Eddie grins, “so needy baby, you want this cock?” he asks, flicking it through your folds, a noise resembling macaroni and cheese is blasts from your core, he groans deep, “so fucking wet,” his lip is almost bit in half with how he’s trying to hide his excitement, “I’m gonna wreck this sweet pussy so you won’t be able to walk home.”
Whimpering like a bitch in heat, Eddie flips you over, angles your ass up, slapping each cheek hard enough a red hand print sized welt develops almost immediately, he pushes all of himself into you, bottoming out as you moan and cry thanking God in your head as you’re split open, a welcomed pain. Spit soaks his sheets from your mouth when he pulls out, “oh you can take it, honey, don’t fucking quit on me.”
“I’m n—,” gasping loudly when he spits harshly on your ass. Rubbing his thumb against the pink button. The new sensation brings color to your closed eyes, stars and shapes of all size float in your closed mind, your pussy clenched harder around Eddie as you whine his name.
“Yeah?” Eddie moans, “told you daddy would take care of you, that needle dick can’t make you feel like this can he?”
you try to choke out a ‘no’ but no noise comes out, your head is thrown back violently as Eddie grabs your hair in one hand and pounds mercilessly into you.
Eddie is grunting with each slap of his heavy sack against your clit, “this is what you came here for right? Bad girl can’t pay her rent so she came to fuck the owner in exchange?” His taunting only makes you wetter, makes you clench his harder as you come undone for the second time. Screaming his name until you’re breathless. Panting and sweating like you ran a marathon. He gives you one more deep thrust of his hips and watches you fall forward.
“Look at the mess you made you little whore,” Eddie spits, venom laced words on that glory filled tongue, as he drags you by your hair to look at his soaked cock, “lick it up, want you to know how fucking sweet you taste.”
Eddie flips you over like a rag doll, positioning you the way he wants. Head dangling off the mattress, Eddie groans as he jams his cock into your throat, holding it there and choking you simultaneously. He reached to the night stand and grabs a black small vibrator placing it on your clit. The vibrations make you moan and choke around his length and against his hand. Eyelids fluttering shut you’re positive you can’t breathe, just when you’re about to pass out he brings you back, letting you breathe for a few seconds, chuckling to himself as you enter the hazy bliss of intoxicating euphoria. Your body convulses under his. Begging for a third orgasm, you can taste the earthy tang of your release and Eddie’s pre cum mix on your tongue.
His girth fills your throat completely, barely leaving room for your own tongue in your mouth. He’s dripping sweat onto your own body you can feel it slip from your belly button down into the curve of your neck. Eddie's hair is swaying in conjuncture with his hips slamming home against your face. Using your mouth like his own fist has you soaking the sheets, clit over stimulated, a deep bruise settling inside the soft silk of your velvet folds. A bruise you’d wear proudly for weeks to come.
Slapping your face as you gag lightly, mind steadily focusing on the jerking of your legs and the vibrating pulse of your cunt. Eddie shushes you reassuring you, tauntingly “someone too big for their britches huh? Work through it, sweetheart— that’s it, fuck good girl,” he chokes a whimper down his own throat as your tongue swirls around him. “Christ, swallowing what I give you, such a good girl for daddy.” Eddie thrusts one more deep cant of his hips into your mouth groaning deeply when you hollow your cheeks. Letting you breathe freely.
“You like that? Like me using you like a worthless fucking toy?” Eddie lifts you up to his face by your hair, kissing your lips delicately, you nod and whimper as he harshly sucks and nips at your neck leaving purpling marks in his wake.
Unabashedly you scratch your long nails into his chest, leaving your own mark on him as he groans against your skin. “My turn,” you whisper as you crawl into a standing position in front of him. Kissing him sweetly and pulling his bottom lip between your teeth, he whimpers at your touch. A tantalizing smile radiates across your lips. Eddie Munson a switch? Who knew? Pushing his shoulders backwards he falls on the bed, curtains of curls cascade around him and his face is turned up in shock then to a satanic grin.
Wiggling your tight skirt down your body you stand in only your heels.
“Fuck, you are a goddess.” Eddie groans, stroking his thick length in slow rhythmic motions as he stares at your body shamelessly, you climb towards him on his messy sheets between his legs your poor abused throat sore and bruised from his animalistic fucking.
His chest is littered with tattoos both old and new, faded and blown out lines mixed amongst sharp edged fresh ones stark against his pale skin. Blistering red lines decorate him from your nails earlier. Knees on either side of his hips you slot your pussy lips against his needy thick cock, sliding forward and back again, your hands on his chest for leverage. Leaning up on his elbows and moving you both backwards so he can rest his back against the headboard, he scants forward to kiss you but you push his forehead away dumbly.
Tsking and using few words to speak with a hoarse voice you whisper, “no touching.” Grinding your hips down into him, pocketing his cock in your slick folds like a sword in a sheath, you lick a stripe up his neck and land at this ear, your pretty moans singing to him like a demon seeking a naive victim. His hips jump with each roll of your own, desperate for relief he whimpers and whines as he’s close and you retreat. Starting all over again. After the third go around his bangs are stuck to his forehead, cheeks warm with a frustrated, worked up blush as you edge him again and again.
“Mmm’ fuck that’s a good cock daddy,” you moan as you come hard on his cock again making a mess yet again, he groans as you milk him for all he’s worth, your creamy pussy clenching against him, and your denial of his release is too much for him. “you wanna come for me?”
Eddie nods in spent anticipation, practically tearing up from being so worked up and being able to release himself. “Please— I can’t,” he groans, as you start grinding on him again, only this time you give in, hugging him in a pinky sheath of gummy walls and slick floors. “Christ,” he melts as you bounce atop his cock, dragging your hips backward and forward helping him hit the spot you so desperately craved from him. His thick hands are on your hips moving you to his liking, a pebbled nipple in his mouth makes you cry out his name as he pumps into you holding you still.
He slaps your ass, “I’m gonna come, shit, fuck!” He hums your name as hot ropes of his thick release coats your walls and floods out you don’t stop riding him, coaxing every last drop out of him until he’s hissing through his teeth as his softened length falls out of you, hot, reddened and aching.
Eddie pulls you to him, kissing your neck and scooting you both down the bed. “Think you’re my favorite tenant,” he laughs as you lay motionless on top of him, both breathing heavily.
“Jesus, I’d hope so, but maybe Miss Richard’s comes over here to get some money knocked off her rent,” you tease, tracing circles into his spotty chest hair, “heard she’s real pretty in her nightgown, just gotta be careful of her poligrip.”
He laughs again, smacking your ass, “you’re a fuckin’ brat y’know that?”
“And you’re a filthy fucker, quite the pair I’d say,” you spit before biting his chest.
Eddie yanks you by your hair to look you in the eyes, “not every day a pretty baby like you comes knocking on my door to rattle my cage and get free rent. But I’d like if you came over more often, that attitude needs adjusting.”
“oh really?” you question, hand under your chin like you’re bored as you roll your eyes, “and your old ass is gonna be the one to tame me huh?”
You spend a greater part of the night bent over Eddie’s knee, his studded belt in his hand as he whips you again and again. Tears spill from your eyes, and coat his thighs. Eddie’s sadistic ass only grins, a joint hanging limply from his lips, shushing you softly, “don’t cry honey, I told you your ass wouldn’t be able to cash that check.”
-
-
👅 I’m gonna go touch grass now
2K notes · View notes
drawlody · 7 months ago
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My list of Adam ships♡ n my opinion bout them (also fics rec :D)
Adam x Luicfer (Adamsapple/Duitarduck) 10/10
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Need i say more:)))??!?! started out as a "haha funny slip-up ship" to "hey they got really good angst potential". The friends/lovers to enemies to lovers is STRONG with this one n i am eating up everything i could found on ao3. Smth bout this macho-ass man finally getting to stay back n not take charge for once feel nice, also princess Adam supermacy wooooo. Whoever came up with the ship name i applaud u cause that's like a 3 layers name(ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧
It's not an Adamsapple fic without Adam having at least 1 mental breakdown n Lucifer have his guilt eating him alive:)))
Very fucked up torture but i swear it worth the pain:D The dove is so dead it start to rot so plz read the tags properly (plz check out the AngeliaDark other works too they got good shit)
This one have a splits so check out both the fics (beware the author have a skrewed sense of what is considered wholesome:))))
I didnt think a smut scene could be this sad
Adam x Lute (Guitarspear/Guardrock) 10/10
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Litteraly my first Hazbin ship, assholes in love is an underrated dynamic we desperately need more off:))) That with a dash of evil dude x loyal subordinate (which i havent seen since the Deathglare days) n opposite attract (look they have one main thing in common is that their extreme bloodthirst, other than that she's stricter than ur mom n he's lazier than the Sloth ring itself but that the beauty of it no? He convince her to chill tf out n not to burst a blood vessel, she keep him on track n make sure Sera dont come on their asses)
They're just being silly enabling each other terrible behaviour n i love that for them (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) Litteral besties i tell ya
Heavy non-con shit involving Val but Lute will revenge our boi i promised u that
Cool idea n they r just made for each other damn
First hazbin fic i read which is a really cool smut:D
Adam x Micheal (we need a ship name people ) (update: it's Songbird/Guitarhero) 10/10
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I like how we dont even got a proper comfirmation of Micheal design/personality yet the ship is here already ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ( im using the Nakariiale's design as a base here love their design)
Hit me with that rebound love x "u look like my ex so im using u as a replacement but ill fall for the real u eventually" x co-workers in heaven. I'm thinking smth along the line of "after Lucifer fucked off with Lilith, Micheal became Adam guardian angel n they just hang out" ya feel me here? (✿◕‿◕✿)
Shout out to Bloog_b for dragging me into this ship:DDD also im on the Adam x the archangels ship as a "gotcha" to Lucifer of sort. Like bitch u stole my wives imma steal your brotherS
Look it's Adamsapple endgame but trust me u will be feed well on this ( u know how good u gotta be for people to ditch the main ship?)
I'm giving yall 4 fics here cause i can only found 4 rn(._. )
this one is uhh non-con so beware
Micheal is indeed Adam guardian angel in this one:D
Adam x Eve (Flowertunes) 8/10
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I dont care what yall said they love each other throughout Eden n Earth , might have a falling out in heaven but that doesnt change the fact that they were once IN LOVE. Honestly why cant we just have a couple that have the same bright-eyed innocence like one another.I refuse to believe Eve like willingly cheat on Adam with malicious intent n all, simply she was indeed ''tricked'' or just not fully understand the sistuation, n Adam love her way too much to think that she would do that to him like Lilith. Hell the dude was heartbroken after L left , starting the abandonment issues, so he would have cling to Eve, doing everything so that he aint alone again, even if that mean leaving Eden
Honestly it pisses me off that the Adam/Eve tag on ao3 most of the time is just 1 dialouge between them back when Eve bit the apple n thats it no elaboration on the couple whatsoever >:(((
Lots of switcharoos
sinner eve woooo
look its hard trynna find a fic focusing on them ok?
Adam x St. Peter (Guitargreeter (bet ya didnt see that coming:))) 7/10
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Base on this fanfic alone Joe my dude u r on the path of becoming THE Adam crack-ship writer n i am here for this:)))) just so u wait this dude gonna whip out a AdamxNifty , AdamxHusk fic later on ( •̀ ω •́ )✧
From within the fic itself the ship its 2 bros in love with homophobia standing in the way >:( also when did we have a name?!?!?!?
I just like Adam x anyone in heaven alright:D like bro famous n he got that ancient rizz, u telling mr he cant bag a hottie or 2-100+ hmm?
Adam x Alastor (Angelicradio) 8/10
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I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT ABOUT THEM THAT I SHIP I JUST DO φ(゜▽゜*)♪ i blame YOU honestly rn this ship is either Adam found Al after the fight n they make a deal or they're in heaven n they chillin this ship is confusing:D
They're angels on heaven
Adam gone back into eden n do shit differently
This is both Adam/Eve n Adam/Alastor kinda
Adam x Alastor x Lucifer (Angelicradioapple/ Charlie's dads (only me call them that lol)) 9/10
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''Hey Charlie u know how u r sad that your mother left? Wellllllll i got you 2 new dads suprise:DDDD''
Look 3 miserable men who hate each other + hell's greatest dad + my love for Dadam = Messy ass old men yaoi :DDDD n it work perfectly with Alastor Asexuality too!!! Like Adam n Lucifer could fuck each other brains out before Al joining in for the cuddles lol
Chaos ensue
Not exactly a love triangle but a love corner but hey we barely got food here :D
I cant believe how hot this shit is lol
Adam x Eve x Lilith x Lucifer (Eden poly/ applecore?) 8/10
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They could have been all married to each other(╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻ But as much as i go "OooOooo Poly yay'' i just cant vibe with EvexLucifer, like the cheating vibes is wayyyyyyyyy too much i just cant man . I mean with the interpetation that Lucifer came to Eden to hang out with the humans they all know eachother, they're a throuple yes but BUT when Eve came into the picture it was only with Adam n him only so the other 2 is ehhhh. Im fine with EvexLilith cause im seeing it happening later, not hidden from Adam while LuciferxEve got that deception going on .So uhhh in this ship they're more like bestie than lovers to me¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Also AdamxLilith is an underrated pairing like everytime i saw this applecore thing going on these 2 r at most tolerate each other like cmonnnnn we already twist this to hell n back, why cant we make it so their arguement was a petty non-malicious one n they still cares for each other hmm???
They're one happy family
IDK what to tell u bittersweet reunion n loving family is the only typa fic u get with this ship
Not that im complaining i need this wholesomeness
Adam x Mammon (Adammon/Madam/Greedyguitar/ 1st chirstmas.... hasnt had an offical name yet) 10/10
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They r litteraly same person different font idk what to tell u. More insults thrown around than Guitarspear but they're pretty similar. Adam is just " sinners suck ass but this dude is the worst in the best way". Also they're both big bois (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧ , they love towering over others
I'm sorry but there r barely BARELY
any fics of them :(
The art side is more plentiful tho :D
Adam x Angel Dust (Holydust/guitardust) 5/10
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THEY ARE BESTIES YOUR HONOUR n that the exact reason why i cant see them be together as a couple 100%, like the shit-talking bff vibes r wayyyy too strong XD Angel finally got someone who have the same vulgar humour as him n if Adam got married in hell Angel would 100% be his best bitch of honour (≧∀≦)ゞq(≧▽≦q)
They're best friends who have casual no-string attached sex that is ACTUALLY no-string attached:)))
I came to ship them due to those "What if they're co-workers under Val' scenarios ive been seeing on Tumblr
I got like 1 fic on ao3 i mean if u r looking for just platonic friendship between them then rest asure most Adam's redemption fics have that
I got 1 fic on tumblr
Adam x Charlie (Charadam/Guitarprincess) 5/10
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U know this ship give me a pretty bad first impression since a good chunk of the fics r either heavy non-con shit or lean wayyyyy to much into the daddy kink, ya know how Charlie got suppose daddy issues n all that jazz?:))) yeah that... that
But after seeing the art side of this ship im chillin with them now, since the art r pretty wholesome, usually having them decked out in punk-rock clothings hanging out. It's a big "Fuck you" to Lucifer n i live for these mf argueing ╰(*°▽°*)╯
So uhhh stay away from the fics if ya want an actual functional couple instead of wtv messed up shit we got there:))) But here's a fic anyway, the only one where it feel bearable n actual trynna go into said messed up relationship i already warn you
We got cracks like Guitarmaid (AdamxNifty), Valadam (AdamxVal) which i dont have enough materials to decied, Classicalrock (AdamxSera) sound interesting but also havent found anything , Guitarhalo (AdamxEmily) is an unexpected find, find i deem them to be more familial than romantic so we'll see if there's a fic good enough to convince me
Edit:i forgot to add Blitzo like Mammon already there why did i forgot
Adam x Blitzo (i dont think anyone even ship this but me:)) 7/10
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I cant find a single fic where they has anything more than a 1 nightstand n 1 interaction where they hit it off , i live off imagination alone (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`) but like fr fr they would match so well, like their bloodlust n general jerkiness would make them the 3rd asshole x asshole ship on this list :DDDD
Tho as much as i wanna see them go further i feel like an on-n-off relationship/friends with benefits fit em more ya know ( *^-^)ρ(*╯^╰) If ya have any fic but the 2 here that have them interact lemme know cause a bitch need food :)
This is a lot of tag(._. )
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bettysupremacy · 1 year ago
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Steve-o
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Summary: Steve thinks you’re very pretty, and desperately needs your number.
A/N: i love Steve. a lot.
The world stops for approximately 5 second when Steve Harrington first sees you. It’s heavy crashing infatuation that has Steve questioning, is love at first sight real?
He’s never been a believer in this sort of thing, you get to know them, you fall for them. At least, that’s how it was with Nancy. You can’t fall In love with a person you’ve never met, you don’t even know them. 
But that’s what Steve found so beautiful, the unknown. 
“Dude, why aren’t you walking?” Robin turns from where she stands, realizing Steve is no longer beside her.
“It’s her, Robs.” He breathes.
“It’s who?” 
“My soulmate, my pairing, my one true love.” He contradicts everything he believes in.
“Oh my god,” Robin groans annoyedly. “You cannot be serious right now, Steve.” 
He nods. “As a heart attack.” 
Papers scatter the Scoops Ahoy wheel table you sit at. They’re filled with words and colorful highlighter. Smart, he thinks, I know she’s smart.
“Get your ass over here and keep walking, we’re gonna be late.” He won’t budge. “God, please, Steve.”
“I need her number.” He shakes his head.
“You need one less late clock in.” 
Steve whines, breaking his eye sight on you for the first time. “Let me have this, Robs.” 
“I’ve let you have 3 late days, one more and Kieth said he’d fire your ass.” 
“Kieth says a lot of things.” He turns his head to her. “How do I ask? Name first? Number? Age?” 
“Well typically you introduce yours-“ 
“Fuck off, Robin, I know what I’m doing.” 
He takes a moment. Maybe he should’ve let Robin finish her advice, he’s never been this nervous to ask out a girl. 
“This level of melodramatic is a new low, Steve.” 
“Fuck off.” This pushes him to walk into Scoops. 
When he reaches the table, it’s an obvious realization that you’re studying. The papers are neat despite thrown around, and there’s a highlighter key next to your elbow. He feels guilty interrupting. 
Be normal! Repeats in his head like a mantra. God!
“Hi,” he starts, he feels like he could throw up. “I’m Steve.” 
You startle. “Hi, Steve.” 
He laughs nervously. Robin rolls her eyes so hard her head tilts back and her hands come up to cover her face exasperatedly. You smile. Steve doesn’t. 
He takes a look around the room awkwardly.  How could he ever stand these blue and red lights? “I used to work here yanno.” 
You nod. “You work in the video store now.”
“That I do.” He bounces in his new shoes, “Wait, have you been in?” 
“Yeah, I come every Saturday.” 
“No shit.” He breathes. You look taken aback, a little confused, a little offended.
“I mean! No shit, I would’ve remembered a face so pretty.”
“Good one, dingus.” 
“Take a walk.” He replies quickly. 
“Do you.. need something?” You ask carefully. His face crumples and something sick in your heart twists. “Not to be rude! I just- English 101 doesn’t finish itself.” 
“English 101! You go to Hawkins Community? I was gonna go, I just wanted a taste of hardworking minimum wage life first” his eyes widen, “not that what you’re doing isn’t hard work!” 
Can the world just cave in on him now? Shoot me.
“She asked a question, Steve-o” Robin puts in. Unhelpfully.
He glares at Robin. “I was wondering if I could get your number? It’s okay if not!” He adds quickly. “Just like- maybe we could go out sometime?” 
Your head spins, pretty boy comes and asks for your number? You can’t mess this up. 
“You like movies?” 
“Uhh duh,” Steve laughs. Robin doesn’t know how much more she can take of this. “Totally.” 
“You pick a movie,” You smile, “and come over Saturday. I’ve got a really big tv.” 
Now Steve may be nervous, but he wasn’t born yesterday. 
“Yeah!” He seems overeager. “Yeah,” he fixes. “I’ll pick out a movie.” 
“Okay.” You smile up at him.
He juts out his wrist. “You can write it.. here.” 
Your laugh cuts through his nerves like a sharp knife. “Yeah, okay.”
Pretty pink highlighter seeps into Steve’s unblemished wrist. He watches you write your number moonstricken. Your fingers press into his skin warmly and something turns in his tummy, you’re so pretty. 
“Well I’ll be seeing you..” He looks at his wrist, “Y/N.” 
“I’ll be seeing you, Steve-o” She takes from Robin. 
He laughs, turning to walk with Robin again. “Steve-o” he mouths. 
Robin is sure to have an aneurism. They were supposed to clock in 3 minutes ago. 
“You happy with yourself?” 
Steve grins, big and boyish. “Yeah, I am.” 
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