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seijorhi · 2 years ago

Text

Scar Tissue

here there be monsters :))

Miya Atsumu x female reader

w.c 5.8k

tw: blood, gore, body horror, character death, people are munched does that count as cannibalism? sort of implied non-con, horror themes, yandere themes

Standing in the middle of an empty cabin, you find yourself slightly nonplussed.

Every once in a while guests forget to check out on time. It happens. You give them the courtesy of an extra half hour and eventually they show up at the front desk a little frazzled but mostly apologetic. No worries.

Once or twice it goes past eleven, and you’ve had to knock at the door and politely remind your guests that checkout was at ten, so if they please wouldn’t mind hurrying it along so you could begin checking them out, that would be greatly appreciated.

In the grand scheme of things, an hour or two delay isn’t the end of the world, it just means you need to kick your ass into gear to get the space ready for the next visitors. So long as they’re not rude about it, you’re happy enough to let it slide without charging them extra.

This, however, was a first.

With the rain setting in and the humidity only rising, you’re in the beginning of the shoulder season, meaning the few bookings you do have are sparse and sporadic, the cabin set to be vacated this morning not due to be occupied again ‘til Thursday.

Ten o’clock had come and gone, then eleven, and you’d once again grabbed your spare set of keys, intent on marching down there to find out what the hold up was.

Except there was no answer when you’d knocked, and when you’d finally relented and let yourself in, you’d found the cabin empty.

Not just of its occupant, but his belongings too. The bedroom’s a mess, sheets rumpled and dirt tracked through, there’s dishes in the sink, a pot of stone cold tea sat on the coffee table, a half empty cup beside it. You desperately don’t want to see the state he’s left the bathroom in.

The keys, mercifully, are by the door.

Which is… odd. You have the guy’s credit card details on file so charging the room isn’t an issue, and yeah you’re not thrilled about the mess (why, exactly, did he feel the need to track half the forest in with him?) it’s more that, well, you have an out of hours key drop box for that very reason. If he’d wanted to check out early or there was some kind of an emergency… he could have at least let you know.

You had better things to do this morning than waiting for a no show.

—

In the busier months when tourists show up in droves to see the mountains and the hot springs, your cousin drives up to stay with you, and you usually get one or two of the girls from town to come help keep the place clean and tidy and running smoothly.

At present, you’re it.

Sheets and towels have to be washed and replaced with fresh ones, you have to vacuum the floors, sweep the dust and the dirt away, mop, clean up the kitchen and the bathroom, wipe everything down – all in all, it takes a solid hour or so, and by the time you’re done, lugging the dirty washing off to the laundry, it’s early afternoon.

A little after four thirty, you hear the telltale sound of tires on the gravel driveway out front. A car door slams and a minute later a familiar face pops up in the entryway.

“Makoto,” you greet. “I missed you yesterday.”

The park ranger, tall and handsome, smiles back at you, “Yeah, well, even lowly rangers get the occasional day off. Taishi came ‘round, right?”

“He did. I told him the same thing I always tell you.”

Makoto lets himself in, closing the door behind him and making his way to the countertop that acts as your front desk. “Which is?”

“That as much as I appreciate the concern, I’m not some helpless damsel all alone in the woods. You don’t need to keep coming up to check on me, Mako.”

The ranger shrugs, “I know.” He smiles, brown eyes crinkling in the corners, “You remind me of my little sister s’all. I wouldn’t like the idea of her out here all by herself, either.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much what Taishi said, minus the whole sister thing.”

He hums, “If it makes you feel any better, we used to come check on your grandma too before you moved up.”

“Oh, she told me. She’d go on and on for hours about the strong, handsome, young forest ranger who’d stop by – I think she was a touch smitten.”

Makoto bursts out in a bout of surprised laughter, and despite the painful tug inside your chest, you find yourself smiling at the sound.

In his mid-thirties, tall, broad shouldered and more importantly, raised right, these days you think she might’ve been onto something.

“Well, in any case, no bear sightings, maulings, creepy strangers or break-ins to report. Nothing but rude, messy guests disappearing into thin air,” you huff. When he lifts an eyebrow, you’re quick to elaborate, “Not like that, he just didn’t bother coming to check out and he left the place a mess.” You sigh, “It’s not really a big deal, more annoying than anything.”

“I can imagine.”

Before she passed, your grandma had instilled in you a strong sense of hospitality towards any guest who entered your home. “D’you want some tea? You’re on the overnight shift this week, right? I have coffee if you’d prefer that.”

It’s a dance the two of you have perfected over the past few months.

You offer him a drink, he politely refuses.

You offer him something to eat; snacks, leftovers from the night before, onigiri from lunch – you’re still adjusting to cooking for one, there’s always plenty left over and you’re more than happy to share – and he politely declines that, too.

Then, you remind him that the daily check-ins aren’t necessary and he doesn’t have to go out of his way to keep dropping by, he makes some non-committal noise, and come tomorrow, he’ll be back on your doorstep and you’ll do the whole thing all over again.

Only this time, he doesn’t get the chance – interrupted by the reception door swinging open, a tall man in worn jeans and a rumpled shirt ducking his head to step inside.

No, not a man, you realise with a horrible jolt.

A ghost.

It’s the dark hair that strikes you first. Scruffy, longer than you remember, it’s missing the bright, bottle blond of his high school days – so much so that for a split second, you think it’s his brother who’s appeared out of the blue.

And then he grins – smirks, really, and any doubt vanishes from your mind. That expression isn’t one you’re likely to forget any time soon.

Hooded eyes flicker towards Mako, giving him a brief, dismissive once over. “‘m not interrupting anythin’, am I?” he drawls.

Makoto answers before you can, which is a good thing, you think, because currently, words seem a bit beyond you.

“No, no ‘course not. I was about to head off soon, anyway.”

Despite saying it, Mako appears perfectly content staying right where he is.

If you spared him more than an ounce of your attention right now, you’d see the small wrinkle in his brow, the way he shifts, straightening his spine, his shoulders, how he angles himself between you two – calm, yet wary, ready to intervene if need be.

But you don’t.

It’s been years since you last laid eyes on Miya Atsumu.

Back then he was a senior with you, a talented volleyball player on track to join the national youth team and undoubtedly go pro. There was even talk of the Olympics, he was that good. You were… not nearly as interesting.

Mere weeks from graduation, that changed for the both of you.

“Miss me?”

Your throat dries. “… Miya.”

“You two know each other?” Makoto asks, glancing between you.

Atsumu chuckles, wearing that same lazy grin, “Aw, we’re old friends. Been a while, though, hasn’t it?”

Not nearly long enough.

“Yeah,” you say with a halfhearted nod. “Something like that.”

Before you can stop to think better of it, you take Makoto’s hand in yours and lean over the countertop to press a kiss to his jaw. “You should get going,” you tell him, your voice light and breathy. Play along, your smile begs. “I’ll call you later.”

And you could honestly kiss him again, because Makoto sighs then, rolling out his shoulders, “Yeah, I s’pose. Taishi’s on patrol tonight, he mentioned he’d stop by if he had a chance. I think Yuki made you something for helping out with the baby shower.”

Yuki had indeed gone to the effort of baking you some thank you muffins, Taishi dropped them off yesterday when he’d come to check up on you. Mako knew that.

She’s not alone out here, asshole.

“I’ll keep an eye out. Now go, you don’t wanna be late.”

Mako gives you a soft look, slowly withdrawing his hand from yours. “Call me if you need anything, love.”

He spares Miya, watching your interaction with a faintly bored expression, a short, perfunctory nod, “Nice to meet you, excuse me,” and with one last look your way, he leaves.

And you immediately wish he hadn’t.

You’re not the same girl you were in high school, though. You won’t cower behind Makoto – no matter how tempting the thought is.

“Boyfriend, huh? Ain’t he a little old for ya?”

Whatever fondness had been on your face quickly vanishes, and you turn your attention back to Miya. “I can’t imagine how that’s any of your business.”

Swaggering on further inside, Miya takes the place Makoto vacated, leaning over the counter, his big, broad frame filling up the tiny room. An athlete from the day you met him, both he and his brother were always bigger than you, stronger than you, too.

Now, looming over you is a veritable wall of muscle. He must be what, 6’4? 6’5? When the hell had he gotten so huge?

You swallow, heart fluttering uneasily inside your chest.

The heat radiating off of him, the scent it carries with it, permeates the air around you – he smells like the forest, fresh and earthy, cedar and sap and musk. He smells like the rain drizzling outside.

Rolling off of him in waves, it’s thick and dizzying.

“Just makin’ conversation,” he replies, unperturbed by the thinly veiled hostility in your voice. “It’s been a while, no harm in catching up with old friends, right?”

“We’re not friends, Miya. We weren’t back then, either.”

He feigns a pout, a hand to his heart. “Ouch. Ya weren’t nearly so harsh when your boyfriend was around.”

You take a deep, calming breath in, only to regret it a split second later when your head swims. “I have things to do, so if you don’t want one of the cabins, then leave. Please.”

Miya offers a toothy smirk, “Why else would I be here?”

Hundreds of miles from home, years after he dropped off the face of the earth and you moved away, what other possible reason would he have for showing up in this tiny mountain town and walking through your door?

Why else indeed.

“Fine,” you acquiesce, waking up your computer with a jiggle of the mouse. “I’ll just need a credit card to put on file – how many nights?”

A booking was a booking, you didn’t have to like Miya to take his money.

“Yeaaah, I haven’t got a credit card on me. S’fine, though, I’m not planning on runnin’ off on ya.”

Of course he doesn’t have one. Why would he, looking like he’s rolled out of bed and walked here, no luggage or car in sight.

You grit your teeth, forcing a terse smile. “That’s fine, I’m sure we can work something out.”

If he trashes the place or leaves you high and dry at the end of it all, you’ll send the damn bill to his brother instead.

—

Night falls and the rain does not let up.

Fresh from your shower, hair damp, sitting cross legged on your bed there’s an edge of something you’re yet to put a finger on niggling away inside of you. It’s not restlessness, not anxiety exactly; a prickling at the back of your neck, an uneasiness that settles in despite you being in the safety and comfort of your own home.

The scars on your back twinge, a shiver rolling down your spine.

From the window, you can spy the cabins in the distance, the warm glow of light spilling out from the darkness. After you showed him the way over and left him with the keys, you’ve seen neither hide nor hair of Miya, which suits you perfectly fine.

Still, you can’t pretend that the old adage ‘out of sight, out of mind’ rings particularly true right now.

Beyond a bruising grip, Miya never laid a hand on you. He never followed through with the whispered threats, the promises held in dark, greedy eyes that seemed forever drawn to you.

But, as you’d confided in a friend at the time, it wasn’t what Miya Atsumu did that frightened you, it was the thought of what he could do.

… You’ve faced worse things than Miya Atsumu and come out the other side, though. He’s a relic of your past – an unhappy relic, a reminder of things you’d rather forget, but a relic all the same, and in a few days time, he’ll be gone.

Another glance out the window, the wind picking up – howling as the trees rustle and shake, you nibble at your bottom lip. You should go to bed.

You grab your phone.

A few swipes of your finger brings up your last conversation with Mako. You type up a quick message; sorry about before, i panicked.

After a moment of deliberation, you add; the kiss was probably a bit too far, i really am sorry!

Adding a smiley face at the end to hopefully alleviate some of the awkwardness, you send it.

He’s in the middle of a shift, and while it’s not as if he’s run off his feet in the middle of the night, you’re not expecting a reply any time soon.

Within about thirty or so seconds, however, the read notification comes through. Then he starts to type up a reply. Watching those three little dots flicker across your screen, an odd sort of anxiousness fluttering in your gut, you wait…

And wait…

… And wait.

Either he’s writing out a mini essay, or the poor guy doesn’t have a clue how to respond. You’re on the cusp of letting it go for the night when, finally, his reply comes through.

You don’t have to apologise for being uncomfortable, I get it.

I’ll be your fake boyfriend whenever you need it.

It’s not much – an assuaging of guilt, perhaps – you feel lighter for reading it anyway. With the sound of rain pouring outside, the strong winds, soothing in spite of their violence, and a distant clap of thunder, you set your phone aside, flick off the lights and tuck yourself into bed.

—

Red. The trees, the forest floor, the moon hanging low in the sky, your own hands, bathed in a crimson glow. Blood falling from the sky, drenching the earth beneath bare feet.

Fire, burning in your veins, your scars lashed with it, throbbing, searing, excruciating. You shriek and howl and scream ‘til your throat bleeds with it. You keep screaming. You’d claw yourself apart if you could, surrender to death, to pain, to nothing at all – if it’d stop the hurt.

Laughter echoes around you. Mocking. Biting.

Claws in your spine, teeth at your neck. Fingers drag through the dirt, scrabbling for purchase.

Is this what it feels like to die?

Air punched from your lungs as you’re split in two, a weight above you, puffs of hot breath fanning your face, a tongue lapping your cheek.

Pounding, throbbing, aching, ceaseless, agonising–

You jerk awake with a heaving gasp to find you’re not alone in your bedroom. Makoto, still in his ranger’s uniform, hovers over you with an arm outstretched, a concerned look twisting at his face.

“Your front door was wide open, banging in the wind. I did call out, but when nobody answered I got worried,” he tells you, his brows knitting together. With the back of his hand, he touches your forehead, and his frown deepens. “You’re burning up.”

Even as he says it, your sweat soaked pyjamas cling to your skin, your head throbbing, a dull, heavy ache that reverberates through your entire body. “What– what time is it?” you ask blearily, voice like sandpaper.

“A little after seven – early still.”

Your attempts to rise are thwarted by a gentle, insistent hand pushing down on your shoulder. “Nope. You’re not getting up, you’re not well. You need rest.”

“I have to–”

“No, you don’t.” Again, he gently pushes you back down. “It’s just that Miya guy staying, yeah? No other guests?”

You mumble something in the affirmative, and Mako nods to himself, “Okay, that’s fine then, we can deal with that. I’ll keep an eye on the front desk and anything else that crops up and you can go back to sleep and rest up, alright? I’ll bring you some water and advil, and some food later if you’re feeling up to it.”

There’s plenty to argue with him about that.

For one, he’s fresh off a twelve hour overnight shift, running on less sleep than you, and while it is the off season, there’s still plenty to be done around the place, none of it his responsibility. Not to mention Miya’s probably going to come sniffing around later and you really, really don’t want those two crossing paths any time soon – especially after all the weirdness yesterday.

You like Makoto, you’d even consider him a friend. The last thing you want is for him to think of you as some burden he should’ve steered clear of.

And besides, feverish or no, you’re not an invalid. You can get up and push through, just as soon as blinking stops making you want to hurl.

“Mako–”

“You can argue all you want, I’m not going anywhere.” He pats the top of your shoulder and straightens up, “I’ll make sure this place doesn’t burn to the ground without you for a few hours while you get some rest.”

“…‘kay.”

He smiles, “Good girl.”

Sleep, when it finds you, is fitful.

You dream of yellow eyes, a monster with a snarling maw chasing you through the woods.

You dream that you’re back in hospital again, flickering in and out of consciousness. Like an angel of death, you hover unseen, watching the team of doctors and nurses scramble to save your life.

‘The EMT’s said she kept mumbling about a wolf.’

The doctor scoffs, ‘Wolves went extinct back in the 1900’s. Look at her back – no wolf did this.’

The creature had stood on its hind legs, covered in thick, black fur. With its snout and tail, claws and gleaming white teeth, wolf was all your delirious brain could conjure.

You’re not alone in this dreamscape, you come to realise. Standing on the other side of the room, grinning, Miya stares back.

You blink and the doctors and the hospital around you are gone.

The two of you stand in the woods back behind your childhood home, the gurney and your ravaged, twitching body lying between you. Your heart thuds loudly and he shifts with it, the boy you knew, cocksure and arrogant, and the stranger who walked through your door wearing his face.

Back and forth, back and forth, like a glitch. He’s drenched in blood, it colours his teeth, smeared across his jaw. His hands are dripping with it.

The dream melts away, and when it reforms around you you’re in the forest outside, the moon hanging low, full and bright.

‘Can you feel it burnin’ through ya?’ the dream Miya asks. ‘Second time’s the charm. Won’t be long now.’

He fades into shadows, your grandma takes his place. Her wizened face kind and gentle, she takes your hands in hers. They’re soft and worn, warm, so familiar that it makes your heart ache with grief and love and sorrow. Tears well, even as you smile at the sight of her.

‘Why, child, were you in the woods that day?’

Because I heard it cry out, the words stick in your throat, it cried out in pain, and I wanted to help.

—

“You’re getting worse.”

Teeth chattering, you manage a weak nod, “I noticed.”

The dumpling soup he’d brought you lies mostly untouched, though you’d made some effort slurping down the broth. You’ve no appetite, the mere thought of trying to eat right now making your stomach churn. At the very least, you had hoped the drugs you’ve loaded your system with might’ve helped ease the aches and pains, the throbbing in your head – alas, no such luck.

All you want to do is burrow under your duvet and sweat it out, let whatever’s raging through your body run its course, and then you can sleep for a week.

“Mako, go home.” Every word is a slow, painful effort. “I don’t want you getting sick.”

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.” He cracks a smile, placing a fresh glass of water on the nightstand beside you. “‘Sides, if I do get sick, you’ll come take care of me too, right? Return the favour?”

“Mhm, sure.”

For a moment, something akin to delight dances in his eyes, yet he’s quick to sober, the reality of the situation not escaping him. “You’re not getting any better,” he says. “Kick Miya out, close up for a day or two. You clearly need the rest.”

The authoritative tone brooks no room for argument, so you simply hum in acquiescence.

If you actually stopped to consider it, you could almost say it’s a blessing that you’re sick now, at the very beginning of the rainy season when tourists and visitors to this part of the mountain are few and far between. Closing your doors for a short while wouldn’t hurt you financially when there was no guarantee of business to begin with.

And as far as disrupting Miya’s holiday plans goes – you care even less about that.

Maybe the fever dreams are still muddying your head, maybe it’s that in your current, rather pathetic state, your capacity for generosity and forgiveness towards his teenage self has dwindled well below what you could manage on a good day.

Either way, a fresh wave of goosebumps prickles at your skin. You want him as far away from you as humanly possible.

“Where’s my…”

Makoto diligently picks your phone up from the nightstand and passes it to you. Each of the cabins has a phone, the numbers pre-programmed into your cell in case of emergencies. After finding the right one you tap on the call button, setting it to speaker and laying the phone back down on the pillow beside you.

It rings once, twice, the noise like a jackhammer to your skull. Makoto frowns as you wince, a soft, discomforted noise leaving your lips, but before he can interject, the call’s answered.

“Yeah?”

Licking parched lips, you squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to gather your wits (and ignore the violent pounding inside your head) long enough to string together a coherent sentence.

“I– the retreat’s closing, you can’t stay here. Sorry for the… short notice, or whatever. Just– just leave the keys, I’ll waive the rate for last night.”

There’s a short chuckle on the other end of the line, “You’re not sounding too good there, sweetheart. You feelin’ alright?”

“I‘m fine,” you force out. “Can you be out before dark?”

Ignoring the question entirely, Miya snorts, “Lying really ain’t your strong suit, y’know.” There’s a short pause, and you can almost see the shift in his expression, the wicked looking grin taking shape as he speaks again, “You want me to come over and keep ya company? I just hate the thought of you sufferin’ through this all by yourself.”

Mako’s eyes narrow, his lips pulling into a frown.

“No, I want you to leave. Please.”

“… Well, since you’re askin’ so nicely, guess I don’t have much of a choice, do I? I’ll leave the keys by the door.”

He hangs up.

The victory feels hollow, almost. Too easily won. Something insistent tugs at your subconscious, but you’re too exhausted to pay it any mind. With a sigh of your own, you meet Makoto’s eye.

“What?” you ask, sinking back into your pillows.

To his credit, Mako doesn’t reply straight away, seeming to chew on his words before he gives voice to them, “It’s none of my business, I realise that. I haven’t– You act different with him. The way you talk, your whole body language, it changes.”

He’s not referring to your conversation on the phone just now.

“You want the juicy backstory?”

Makoto hesitates, but curiosity wins out. He nods.

“There isn’t one, really. We went to school together, he was good – really good – at volleyball and thought that meant he was entitled to whatever he wanted.”

“Which was… you?”

There’s no attempt to mask the distaste in his voice. Mako’s the very antithesis of Miya, though, to treat someone like that, to believe yourself entitled to them would never cross his mind in a million years.

You nod.

“Huh…” His expression turns thoughtful then, head tilting as his brow furrows, “Doesn’t strike me as the pro-athlete type, you know what I mean? Sure, he’s big, but…”

But the wild, scruffy look ruins it. Nothing about Miya seemed to fit. It was difficult to put a name to; the clothes were wrong, he felt out of place – like a lion prowling city streets, or snow falling in mid-July.

“Mm. He went…missing’s the wrong word, I guess. He ran off for a few days.” The words come slow, laborious, but Mako doesn’t push you. “And when he came back… he stopped playing volleyball, stopped showing up at school, he was… different. That was after I was in hospital though, last I heard he’d dropped off the face of the earth. I never thought I’d see him again.”

Mako hums again, his attention drifting to the scars peeking out from your bare shoulder. Usually they’re covered up, but with the summer heat and humidity, the thin straps of your pyjamas do little to hide the ugly marks from view.

“Get some sleep,” he says eventually, rising from his seat. “I haven’t gotta leave for a few hours yet.”

—

When you’re pulled from sleep next, your bedroom’s painted in a golden glow.

There’s no sign of Makoto. A handwritten note lies folded on your bedside table, trying to make sense of the scrawled message only makes the radiating pain inside your head grow worse. The light’s too bright, every noise amplified tenfold – the clock downstairs ticking away, cicadas chirping, the sound of a truck barrelling down the winding road out front and the wind whistling through the trees. It’s deafening, all of it, and you can’t do a thing to block it out.

Despite the oppressive heat, you find yourself shivering, curling trembling limbs around yourself as you sweat and whimper. Your skull feels like it’s slowly being cleaved apart, every breath a shallow rattle. Even your blood burns, liquid fire that scalds you from the inside out.

Surely your heart, racing frantically within the cage of your chest, can only take so much of this before it gives out.

Through the delirium, you begin to realise that something is truly, deeply wrong.

And then you hear it, the front door creaking open, a large body crossing the threshold. You barely have the energy to lift your head, “M-Mako?” you croak out, fingers weakly curling into the sheets around you.

“The ranger?” a familiar voice calls, footsteps thudding down the hall. “Nah, he left a while ago.”

Your stomach twists, a sharp, lancing panic lost to the haze of aches and pains wracking your body as Miya appears at your doorway, dark eyes flitting over your pathetic form, drinking it in.

“Poor thing,” he tuts. “Hurts, don’t it?”

“Go… away,” you whimper – to no avail. Miya strides into your bedroom like he owns the place. Walks right up to where you lie, shivering and helpless.

You don’t think it escapes either one of you that right now, you’re entirely at his mercy.

You can’t stop him from taking a seat on the mattress next to you, his massive frame looming over you. Can’t do a thing but flinch when a rough fingertips push a lock of hair back from your sweat slicked forehead and trail down your cheek.

“Only a few more hours, you’re nearly through the worst of it,” he tells you.

Through the worst of what?

He hushes you when you let out a frightened whine, stroking your hair, “I’m not gonna let ya go through this alone. You’re mine, my fuckin’ mate, and if that asshole hadn’t–” he breaks off with a huff, the muscle in his jaw working away. It isn’t until a sharp pain breaks through the throbbing haze that you glance down at your leg – at the hand he has resting on your thigh, and the razor-like claws digging into the soft flesh there.

Eyes widening, a strangled noise escapes you.

In an instant the claws are gone, replaced by normal fingernails – if not for the gruesome looking gouge marks dug into your thighs, the blood that wells to the surface and spills down your leg, falling in fat droplets onto the bed sheets below, you’d think you imagined it.

The sharp burst of pain fades, the wounds closing before your eyes – until nothing but smooth skin marred with streaks of red remain.

Miya stares at your thigh for a moment longer, seemingly lost in thought. When his eyes meet yours again, they’re dark, resolute. “He’s not around to stop me this time.”

You simply shiver, closing your eyes to try and block it all out.

None of this is real. You’re hallucinating, or dreaming – you have to be.

‘Wolves went extinct back in the 1900’s. No wolf did this.’

The room gets darker, moonlight creeping in through the window, and the pain gets worse. At some point, Miya shuffles you over a bit to lie down beside you. He takes you into his arms, ignoring your pitiful attempts at struggling and tucks you into his broad chest.

His scent, the deep timbre of his voice as he speaks to you, his hands, wandering over your clammy skin. Even in your delirium, he won’t let you forget that he’s the one here with you.

Eventually, the words stop making sense, syllables blurring and twisting together. You can only lie there, waiting for the pain to end, for your fever to abate while Miya takes advantage of your weakened, sickly state.

The first snap comes out of nowhere.

White hot and agonising, it shoots up your leg, radiating like a shockwave. You choke on a scream, eyes flying open.

Miya’s hands are nowhere near your legs.

There’s no time for you to comprehend the pain, much less how a bone can spontaneously break on its own; another sick crack echoes through the room – your femur.

And the howl that rips its way free of your lungs is something animalistic. Tears leak from your eyes as your back arcs up off the bed, only for a second, and then Miya’s sweeping you up into his arms, holding you close. Without a word of explanation – not that it’d do you any good, not that you’d understand – he carries you through the house, out into the balmy summer night and the forest that lies beyond.

Wailing and shrieking like a wild thing, your bones snap and elongate, tearing through your skin. Thick, dark fur sprouts across your body, the tatters of your clothes falling to the dirt below, your jaw cracks, blood filling your mouth, spilling down your chin.

In a small clearing he lays you down on the forest floor and pats your head, “You’re gonna do great, babe.”

You snarl in response.

Muscles tear from bone, growing, reshaping, your teeth sharpen and claws burst through the beds of your fingernails, the same happening to your toes. Your face contorts, a muzzle violently forcing its way through the front of your skull.

You lose your mind to the pain. Writhing in the dirt, bathed in the glow of moonlight, you lose all sense of self. There’s only blood and agony and a hunger that gnaws at the pit of your belly.

And as your bones settle, the last ripples of the change fading away into nothing, you stagger to your feet, taking in this new world of yours.

With eyes sharper, a nose a thousand times more sensitive, ears picking up a cacophony of noises from miles around you, the assault to your senses is near overwhelming. Yet instead of whimpering and cowering from that, you relish in it.

You’re a beast born to hunt. There’s a scent in the air, mouthwatering, rich–

A low whistle sounds behind you, and on instinct you turn, teeth bared in a vicious growl. Yellow eyes stare back from a human face, he smells… familiar. Like you. No… no, something more than that. There’s a bond there, a tether between you two; sire.

He grins, “Look at’cha. My perfect little mate.”

Mate?

You hesitate, ears twitching. That intoxicating scent of prey still carries on the breeze, you can hear their beating hearts, voices in the distance, every instinct within you screaming to follow it, to hunt. Yet you still yourself, waiting – for what?

A low whine slips from your muzzle and he laughs.

Head tilting back to soak in the moonlight, his grin wide and inhuman, the change sweeps over him, too. Bones crack and shift, skin ripples and reforms. In mere seconds, a monstrous, furred beast stands in his place and when he speaks next, it comes not from his maw, but echoing in your head.

Poor thing. You’re hungry, need to eat – first time really takes it out of ya.

It’s all the permission you need. Bounding across the forest floor, you chase after it – towards the voices, the yellow lights of the ranger’s station twinkling on the mountainside.

Perhaps when you wake up curled around Miya, freshly human, slathered in blood with body parts strewn around you and the taste of raw meat on your tongue, some part of you will shatter irreparably.

For now, though, the promise of tearing into warm bodies and sating that empty, gnawing hunger, of ripping into flesh and muscle is enough to have you salivating as twin howls shatter the calm, summer night air.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere miya atsumu #yandere atsumu #yandere miya atsumu x reader #yandere atsumu x reader #read the warnings this one is not for the squeamish #:))

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petrolstationflowers · 9 months ago

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Are feathered friends better than human coworkers? Why not try out an Ornithology career for your sims! Once more requested by @catrillion, we wanted to work on something that incorporated a specific form of laws protecting animals, and came up with this.

This job is available for YA - Elder, and you can join via the Arboretum. Please note you will need to either play this in Moonlight Falls or save the Arboretum lot and place it in another neighbourhood for this to show up in game!

You will need to level Fishing, Science, and the hidden skill WildlifeFriend. This latter one maxes out at level 6. You can change and track this using MasterController, and the metrics in the job panel will update as you progress it.

No opportunities, uniforms, or books, and the lower levels will not have a carpool so make sure to send your sims to work manually!

Please note if you want to use this, you must have Nraas Careers installed for it to show up!

There are three custom tones:

Read Journals (increase Science) Socialise the Birds (WildlifeFriend) Survey the Park (Fishing)

Meet/Hang With Coworker have also been changed to "Meet Birds," and "Chill With the Birds."

If anyone can translate for me, I'd be very grateful!

Level descriptions under the cut:

Enthusiast - 10 simoleans p/h, 10:00 - 16:00, M-F

Description: You’ve loved birds for as long as you can remember; the family budgie that sat on your finger, the class cockatoo that someone taught to swear. You spend most of your days working the checkout at EverFresh Supermarket staring out the window at the trees in the car park, where a flock of parakeets have their nest. Maybe it’s time to spread your wings and look for a more interesting job?

Amateur Ornithologist - 15 sp/h, 10:00 - 16:00, M-F

Description: You’ve bid farewell to the checkout and instead set up camp in the local park, photographing birds for your local twitcher group on Sims Social. The pay is chickenfeed (unless you photograph Mothman himself) but your online friends might know where you might find something that pays more of the bills…

Park Volunteer - 20 sp/h, 09:00 - 17:00, W,T,F,S,U

Description: Now this is certainly better than the supermarket! The pay is still terrible but you get to spend your time outdoors at your local wildlife park – and most importantly, with your avian associates. Clean out their pens, guide lost tourists, and do a coffee run or three; you might make enough friends to get a little higher on the perch.

Conservation Education Guide - 40 sp/h, 09:00 - 18:00, W,T,F,S,U

Description: Despite their awkward reputation, ornithologists are a chatty lot when it comes to their favourite subject. The general public don’t tend to know a lot about birds, muddling up their crows and their ravens, and think that leaving out generic birdseed is just as good as black sunflower seeds, raisins, and tasty mealworms. Give them a lecture to remember – oh, and try to shill the organic bird food in the gift shop.

Intern - 45 sp/h, 09:00 - 18:00, W,T,F,S,U

Description: An actual job title and pay that doesn’t leave you eating ramen all week! Granted, it’s a lot of book learning along with the hands-on experience, with long hours studying and memorising complicated Latin names, but keep at it. Onwards and upwards!

Park Ranger - 55 sp/h, 05:00 - 14:00, W,T,F,S,U

Description: You’ve finally got your hat but it looks like you’ll be wearing a lot of them; being a park ranger means dealing with the public too. As well as showcasing the beauty of the natural world, you’ll be delivering activities to guests and raising awareness of just how important it is to keep their natural habitats safe. Hope visitors like trail walks and nest building competitions!

Bird Keeper - 60 sp/h, 05:00 - 14:00, W,T,F,S,U

Description: Finally, a flock of your own! You’re in charge of the bird habitat at the park, taking part in the captive breeding program and making sure the conservation effort is going according to plan. You’ll be hands on developing research projects and coming up with new enrichment ideas for your charges – a pity the higher ups said no to a birdie disco ball in the main office.

Conservation Delivery Manager - 75 sp/h, 09:00 - 17:00, M-F

Description: Another flock, but this time the underlings are a team of people rather than baby birds. You’re responsible for a team of wardens across the local area, sending them nationwide to ensure they deliver conservation projects funded by City Hall. There’s a lot of business plans and project management, but someone needs to make sure resources are allocated properly (and birds can’t hold a pen).

Protected Sites Advisor - 90 sp/h, 09:00 - 17:00, M,T,F

Description: You’re deep in the science side of ornithology now; working with local farmers to make sure their food production methods are environmentally friendly, reducing the impact of climate change, and ensuring that important ecosystems thrive and flourish. You’ll also get the chance to pitch sites for new developments and green spaces – so if you want a Birdie Bistro & Bar serving Band Slams & Baked Angel Food Cake, now’s your chance!

Ecologist - 150 sp/h, 09:00 - 17:00, M,W F

Description: You’re out of the suburbs and into the woods – time to be a consultant! You’ll be travelling all over SimNation to various sites and places that have the potential to become the latest havens for your bird friends, writing up surveys and reports to convince the mayor of Barnacle Bay perhaps they can build their luxury flats somewhere else and not disturb the local condor population. Ecological assessment work might not sound the most interesting on paper, but it’s hugely important to make sure you’re protecting birds for generations to come – children and eggs alike.

With thanks: To MissyHissy's career building tutorial!

#sims 3 #the sims 3 #ts3 #ts3cc #the sims 3 cc #the sims 3 custom career #sims 3 custom career #the sims 3 custom job #ts3 custom career #ts3 custom job #sims 3 custom job #ornithology #ornithologist

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jo-harrington · 2 years ago

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Standard Operating Procedures 1.02 (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: You get to meet Eddie's friends.

Previous Part: Standard Operating Procedures 1.01

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Fluffy, silly, mutual pining, slowish burnish. Allusions to more of Eddie's trauma/shitty people being shitty that will probably come up later. Some silly, goofy "boys will be boys" moments with Corroded Coffin.

Note: I keep introducing new characters and I'm sorry. (I mean it's only 2 at this point...3? I't doesn't matter. It's my party and I will have a million side characters if I want to.) But Welcome to SOP 1.02, the second of what will be many nights out with Eddie and Store Manager.

I know I'm posting this one after Corrective Action, but it technically comes before it. I'm working on writing chronologically...it is just taking a hot minute. I'm like a Time Lord, my brain doesn't work that way. One day we will catch up to Closing Time and then it doesn't have to be mutual pining and cute friendship/early relationship stuff, it can be love and fluff and probably some more angstier angst and filthy smut.

Besides I just love their goofy little date nights. And I needed to write something fluffy and lighthearted since this weekend seems to be angsty chapter fest elsewhere in the fic world. (iykyk. I love it, I just need some silliness.)

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other random Eddie Headcanons.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

“What time are you off tonight?”

“Uhhh,” you looked up at Eddie as he jogged into the store, partially out of breath. You were halfway through a piercing, but couldn’t possibly be annoyed at his appearance; he was quickly becoming one of your favorite people, after all.

Besides, it was another long, busy day; you and your ASM had both been doing back-to-back piercings for at least two hours, and there was a practically endless line at the cash wrap. With the (unexpected) success of the store, you were allowed to hire some new associates, one of whom was currently training on the register.

You welcomed the distraction that Eddie brought.

“The regular time? Why?" you asked, then paused for a second. "And sorry, but did you run up here?”

“Escalator is out of order,” he shrugged, still panting. Then under his breath “fuck, I shouldn’t skip out on gym so much.”

“The smoking is probably not doing you any favors either,” you tutted in a stage whisper and he rolled his eyes. "Give me like...a few minutes to finish up and then we can chat? And I swear to god, just wait in here please and not near the door; my conversion really sucks today."

He held up his hands innocently before shuffling off to the side to browse. You watched him for another second--admired how handsome goofy he looked--and then you turned back to the preteen in your chair.

“Ok…you ready? Just one more time. One…two…” The girl winced a little bit as the needle punctured her ear. “I know it hurt but it wasn't too bad right? And you'll look so cool!”

The soft “pretty” that came from her when you presented the mirror to show her the finished product a few minutes later was enough to make you smile brightly. After a quick "thank you" she skipped to the checkout line to proudly show her new earrings to her father--a man who clearly watched too much Magnum PI if the mustache and Hawaiian shirt were any indicator.

Once the station was cleaned up and you checked in with the rest of your team, you turned your attention to your visitor. You grabbed some random accessory off of one of the fixtures as you approached him.

"Excuse me sir, I think I found exactly what you need to complete your look today," you said in the entirely too bubbly way you usually spoke to customers. The one that you knew, after Eddie confessed during lunch the other day, made his skin crawl a little.

"It's a customer service voice."

"It's creepy."

"Oh yeah? And what's that?" he asked, eyebrows raised as he turned to you. From behind your back, you revealed a dressup headband that had fluffy red hearts wobbling on springs on either side of the head. You stood on your toes and jammed it onto his head, unable to contain your laughter as he leaned back to catch a glimpse of himself in a nearby mirror. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, but I think this really works."

He turned back to you and fluffed his hair a little. Then he held his hands below his chin while fluttering his eyelashes prettily.

“So what’s up?” You asked once he took the headband off. “I thought you were off on Fridays.”

“I am,” he nodded. “For Hellfire. But...it's a special circumstance. There's an early screening of this new movie--Day of the Dead? Did you ever see Night of the Living Dead? Of course you have, it's a classic."

"Sure."

"This ones, like, the last one of the trilogy." He had admitted to you last week that Return of the Jedi was his (secret) favorite of the Star Wars trilogy and that the last movies in trilogies were, in his opinions, the best. "Anyway it's gotta be good."

"It does sound cool." You agreed.

"Well I'm glad you think so, because I asked Jeff to get an extra ticket..." he paused and you could see the nerves settle in. "I figured...you might want to join us? If you're free after work?”

He rambled on about his friends and how “Gareth got his license, finally, which is why we're really going out” and “Dave always screams at jump scares but it's hilarious.” Trying to convince you that they were good and cool, but you could guess what he was trying to say underneath it all.

They’re cool guys and I’m a cool guy. We're going to see a cool movie, so please don’t say no.

After two Sunday afternoons and a handful of lunches spent together, it was still baffling to see how bashful he could become. How he still tripped up on his words and gave you every single opportunity to turn him down. To turn him away.

He told you some people were shitty to him for repeating senior year. And he worried about you finding out about some reputation he had. But even if you hadn't witnessed it yourself yet, it wasn't hard to put two and two together that, overall, people weren't very nice to him.

You knew you had been lucky; the only people to really bully you were related to you. But you still couldn't understand how people could be so cruel, especially to the absolute sweetheart in front of you who was currently rocking on his toes, and fidgeting with his rings, and avoiding your eyes as he just kept talking.

Eddie was funny, witty, cute, thoughtful, and probably hopped up on too much sugar all the time.

"...and I know it probably doesn't sound fun to go to the movies with a bunch of high school guys but--"

"No it sounds like a great time," you agreed.

"Really?" He had that deer-in-the-headlights look that you were secretly starting to enjoy. "It's not stupid?"

"No," you shook your head. "And I want to meet your friends. You kind of talk about them a lot. So it'd be nice to put faces to names."

"They might bully you for listening to Duran Duran," he warned.

Was he trying to get you to turn him down?

"Then don't tell them about that!"

"I might need to be bribed," he hummed cheekily, clearly unable to keep a smile off of his face.

"Gosh, you ask me to go to the movies with you, and now you're blackmailing me," you sighed. "Fine...I'll get you any sour candy you want. But you can't put it in the popcorn!"

He held out his hand to shake on it and you rolled your eyes as you slapped your hand into his.

He grinned and whooped in excitement, then ran out of the store. Before you could even blink, he was back and, in a move that made your heart beat a little harder in your chest, he leaned down and gave the back of your hand a very light kiss.

What?

"I'll leave you to your sparkly kingdom, your Highness," he announced with an over exaggerated, grandiose voice as he returned to his full height. "See you at 7." He then winked and ran back out.

WHAT?!

"My conversion Eddie!" You called after him once you got back to your senses.

The loud crack of his laughter echoing though the mall was just enough to make you forgive him.

---

“Ok so is this a date?” your ASM asked softly as she counted your register down before you left. "The last time it wasn't a date, but is it a date now? Movies? Sharing popcorn?"

"His friends are gonna be there. It's just...hanging out."

"Oooh, meeting some of his friends. Are you gonna sit next to him? Dark movie theater, perfect for smooching."

"Shut up. No it isn't perfect for smooching.”

"But you’re gonna sit next to him. You're avoiding eye contact, you’re nervous," she sing-songed and you groaned. "This is a date!"

Mindy was a former stay-at-home mom who got bored of being at home now that the kids were all in school. It should have been weird, managing someone almost a decade older than you, and you both voiced your concern during the interview that one would treat the other like some dumb kid. You because you were younger and didn't have as much life experience, and Mindy because she didn't have much retail experience and would be working with a bunch of teenagers. But you both agreed not to let that influence your treatment of one another.

There was mutual respect and trust.

There was also relentless teasing. On Mindy's part, at least.

"Ok, listen, I told you that he's great but he said this thing the first time we hung out."

"What thing? Why is this the first time I'm hearing about this thing?" she put her dollar-clenching hands on her hips and stared at you in a way that only a mother could.

You explained how he mentioned, specifically, that your first night out wasn't a date. How disappointed you were. How embarrassed you were that you would even entertain that idea and were now doing everything in your power not to think of him as cute and stomp all the hopes and dreams of your own mall romance into the dirt.

All of your insecurities about your non-existent love life laid out for her--and everyone else in the busy store--to hear.

And Mindy just snorted in your face.

"I don't think I'm that old, but you kids really need to stop overthinking things," she laughed and slammed the cash drawer shut. "Alright you're all set. Go have fun on your not-date."

"I really hate you," you deadpanned and turned to leave.

You were about halfway through the trek across the mall to the multiplex when you did exactly what Mindy told you to stop doing: overthink.

Eddie was worried you might not like his friends...what if his friends didn't like you?

They were younger, still in high school. (You were blatantly ignoring that you could say the same thing about Eddie.) And you had a younger brother who was still in high school. When you were still at home his friends thought you were stupid and old and gross, as kids do.

You drove your grandpa's old car--handed down when his doctor told him he couldn't drive anymore--you didn't listen to whatever new bands they were obsessing over, you didn't know all the cool young slang.

You'd think, working with a bunch of teenagers, that you would pick something up, but for as long as you had been given keys at your old store, you tried to keep a little bit of distance with the younger associates. It helped get them to see you in an authoritative light, to trust your leadership.

And it absolutely stunted your social ability.

And your brother and his friends could smell it like sharks smelling blood in the water.

It had never bothered you--they were little twerps anyway who you'd threatened to beat up when they got too annoying anyway--until now.

What is it that Eddie's friends would find cool?

You knew about the band, and obviously you both had been bickering over discussing music. He also told you about his Hellfire Club, which conveniently consisted of the same group. And while you couldn't really wrap your head around the mechanics of the game from the description--he had offered to lend you some of his books to help you understand--you did think some of the creatures and characters he described were intriguing.

And hell, you might not know a whole lot about fantasy, but you sure as hell knew about escapism. Maybe they all were looking for a way out of their realities too.

But that was probably too heavy a topic to talk about with a bunch of teen boys at the movies.

"There she is, late," Eddie's voice broke through your thoughts as you approached the mall entrance to the theater. You looked up to find the small group of boys leaning against the wall beside the box office.

You could do this.

Or pretend to, at least.

Besides, it was just Eddie. You could be cool for him.

"You said 7?" you argued. "I clocked out at 6:45!"

"Well we're gonna miss the previews," one of the boys grumbled good-naturedly, before breaking into a small smile. "Hey, I'm Gareth."

"The drum prodigy!" You exclaimed and his smile got a little bashful.

"Shut up," he muttered. "You haven't even heard us play yet!"

You quickly introduced yourself and Eddie clapped his hands on each of his friends' shoulders as he introduced them and gave you a little fact about each of them in a way only Eddie could.

"We have Gareth, obviously, the man of the hour with a real, legitimate drivers license," Eddie sniffled and wiped a fake tear from his eye. "Can't believe he's all grown up. But let the record show that I taught him how to parallel park."

"Dave, who, I have recently learned, can fully recite Edgar Allan Poe's The Raven from memory. Iambic pentameter and all that shit, right? Guess you only look dumb, huh, Davey."

"And Jeff, Jeffrey, Jefferson, my right hand man. Not just the peanut butter to my jelly, but both slices of bread too. Where in the world would I ever be without him? Actually, maybe I would have graduated by now."

They all smiled and greeted you; it was clear that they adored Eddie and enjoyed the attention of their fearless leader, even while swatting at him as he embarrassed them.

All except Jeff, who had given you a tight, cordial smile--a strained flash of braces--and then urged everyone to follow him in.

The three younger boys bickered about snacks while you all waited in line, Gareth and Dave turning to ask you your preferences every now and again.

Whenever they couldn't decide on something--jalapeños on the nachos or no, extra butter or extra salt on the popcorn, wait should we get the hot dog combo--Eddie would swoop in with a sharp "shut up" and play mediator, then turn back to you with the biggest, fondest grin and an eye roll.

It was cute.

He was cute.

It was heartwarming to see him with his friends. You hadn't been hanging out with him for very long at all, but it was nice that he liked you enough to share this, share his friends, with you.

Once you all had your treats, including the sour candy you had promised Eddie, you made your way into the theater, only for the boys to bicker, once again, about who was sitting where. They each had their preferences and argued over the pros and cons of each. Dave like the aisle but so did Jeff, and Gareth--a self-proclaimed movie theater expert--said the center of the theater had the best viewing and sound experience. Eddie just preferred the back.

"Because if the movie is shit, you can just throw popcorn at the people further up who are making out."

"Or just watch them and--hey!"

"Not in front of a lady, dingus!"

You just hung back and enjoyed the show while apologizing to the other moviegoers for blocking their way to picking their own seats.

"Well where do you want to sit?" Eddie abruptly turned to you.

"Uh, well." You didn't think you really had a choice in this; you were just invited last-minute. This was their outing. "I'm just a guest. Whatever you guys pick is fine with me."

"Do you even like going to the movies?" Jeff laughed, but there was a slightly annoyed undertone that you wondered momentarily if you were just imagining. "Or watching scary movies?"

"I mean, yeah, who doesn't like movies," you shrugged, figuring it wasn't really the time or place to be discussing your preferences in movies either. "And horror...well, my dad always said it was cursed or something, but it's fun, they're funny."

The lights started to dim in the theater and you swore you saw Jeff roll his eyes.

"Funny?"

What was his deal?

"Yeah, when something scares you and then you jump and it makes you laugh. Especially when it's lame and cheesy. And...it's like when you ride a rollercoaster, it makes your stomach go...funny."

They all muttered in understanding, but you still felt uncertain.

"That's an interesting way of looking at it, sweetheart. I guess we all just like to get scared shitless," Eddie grinned. He clapped his hand on Gareth's shoulder. "Alright, since we're here to celebrate Gareth the Great's accomplishments, he gets to choose."

---

About a half hour in, you needed to go to the bathroom and you shimmied past the boys, doing everything in your power not to get flustered when Eddie put his hand on your hip to steady you, with a soft "careful" so you wouldn't fall over onto the next row of people.

Not that he would be able to see in the dark theater anyway.

But you felt like...somehow, he would know.

You took a deep, calming breath of relief when you got out to the lobby of the theater and joined the line for the bathroom.

The movie was good, suspenseful.

Eddie didn't lie when he said Dave screamed at jumpscares. He also conveniently forgot to mention that he liked talking during movies. People nearby kept turning their heads to shush him when he got too loud, too excited, gushing over one thing or another to someone in the group.

"Guys did you see that?"

"That was really fucked up."

"Wait what happened? I couldn't hear what they said."

It was also just not helping any of your efforts to bury your attraction for Eddie when you shared an armrest and a bucket of popcorn. Your fingers would brush his when he offered to share his candy with you. Your breath would hitch during scary moments and he would knock his knuckles with yours and give you a shit-eating grin.

“Funny my ass.”

“Shut up, you’re the worst.”

You did everything in your power to ignore the electric tingles along your skin.

“Quiet I can’t hear.”

Then there was Jeff sitting on Eddie’s other side, who would make comments like that every now and again.

It’s not like you had enough time to get a good read on Jeff; Eddie had said he was working on his confidence on-stage, maybe he also needed it off-stage? Maybe he had a hard time meeting new people? Or...or maybe he was just a stand-off-ish kind of guy, broody?

Or maybe...

Or maybe he just didn’t like you.

You really hoped that wasn't the case, but it sure seemed like it.

You knew how it felt when there was one friend in the group that just didn't like you as much as they liked the others, how they went out of their way to make you feel just a little bit unwelcome. How everyone else would just shake it off, because you'd all been hanging out for years, and it was just good natured anyway.

But this wasn't that.

This wasn't your friend group; these were Eddie's friends, and you really hadn't given them a reason to dislike you. You wanted them to like you; you wanted them to...tell Eddie he wasn't wasting his time being your friend.

The other guys seemed nice enough.

Right?

And you really wanted to try, especially with Jeff, who Eddie spoke of fondest.

Of course, he spoke of all the boys fondly…but whatever happened that caused Corroded Coffin to break up—something Eddie seemed incredibly hesitant to talk about—Jeff had been there to build it back up again. And you could tell how proud Eddie was of his friend, how grateful he was to have him.

You didn't want Eddie's closest friend to have a problem with you, his newest.

You went about your business in the bathroom, staring at your reflection for an extra long second, practicing your smile so it wouldn't seem too customer-service-y or artificial--your well-practiced mask that had always gotten you ahead at work--in case that was why Jeff had a problem. Did he think you were fake?

You just wanted to know the truth.

And you didn't have to wait long to find out, because on your way out of the bathroom, you saw Jeff waiting by the entrance of the theater. His arms were folded across his chest and he tapped his foot impatiently.

"Everything...ok?" you asked hesitantly.

"Yeah," he replied, with that same strained smile he gave you earlier. "I just wanted to talk really quick."

"Oh...kay," you agreed. "Listen, if I did anything wrong, or to offend you, I'm sorry. I know I can be too much someti--"

"Why are you hanging out with Eddie?" he interjected, cutting right to the chase. You frowned and cocked your head to the side in question. "Why are you being nice to him?"

"Why shouldn't I?" you asked in return. "He's a nice guy. He asked me to come to the movies with you guys. I’m sorry if it was just supposed to be your time together—”

"Not just now," Jeff looked around nervously, as if he was afraid to make eye contact. "He came to practice the other week excited that you agreed to go out with him and that you were cool and he was nervous and he hasn't shut up about you ever since."

Your heart got stuck in your throat. Obviously he had to tell his friends about you if he invited you to go to the movies, but...he hadn't shut up about you?

"But he's been through a lot and he doesn't deserve whatever...whatever scheme you have planned by hanging out with him. S-so this is your chance to let him down now, before you really hurt him."

You were quickly brought back to reality.

Jeff was staring at you now, expectantly. All traces of nervousness gone.

"Why would I have a scheme? Why would I hurt him?" you questioned.

"Because you're not the first pretty, popular girl to hang around with him, only to make him feel like shit afterwards once they get what they want."

Oh.

Oh no.

"If you're trying to score some cheap weed or something--"

"I'm not."

"--Or like...get some sort of laugh at his expense with those girls you work with--"

"Jeff."

"Just know that it really hurt him last time," he concluded. "Like really broke him down, on top of everything else, and it took everything I had to get him back. He's my best friend; the closest thing I have to an older brother. And he's the best guy I know. I can't stand to see him get that way again because someone else was too selfish to consider his feelings."

Your head was spinning, trying to put all of the pieces together.

And it was only making you incredibly sad for your friend.

"So..." Jeff took a breath and straightened his shoulders, as if he would step in your path to block you from entering the theater if you didn't give him the answer he wanted. "Tell me the truth. What do you want with Eddie?"

What did you want?

What didn't you want?

"I want to be his friend," you began. "I don't have that many people here, Jeff. I left home for the first time ever, and I'm kind of alone and it's scary. I don't really hang out with the people I work with because I have boundaries. And Eddie has been one of the only people I've met outside of work, technically, and he's been one of the most welcoming people so far.

"I want to eat junk food with him, and listen to his corny jokes, and get to see his favorite places in Hawkins, even though he swears up and down that it's a shit hole. And hurting him is the very last thing I want to do. But pain is just a part of life, and as much as we want to, we can't just...stop him from getting hurt at every step of the way.

"It's really admirable that you came out here to try and protect him, Jeff. I'm glad he has a friend like you. And hopefully now, since we'll have an understanding, we can be friends too," you finished with a smile.

Jeff hesitated then relaxed, the need to be Eddie's protector pretty much vanished. He wrung his hands together for a moment before sighing.

"Yeah," he agreed slowly. "I think we can be friends… Even though you're old." He grinned mischievously.

Low blow.

"Ouch! Thanks, I'm not that much older than you guys.”

"I mean, you're old enough to buy alcohol, right?" he asked expectantly.

"I'm not buying beers for you guys," you deadpanned.

"That makes you old."

"...still not buying you beer."

"Well, shit, you're not only old, you're lame too," Jeff laughed. "So...let's go back in? Before Eddie sends a search party."

"Hey, does he tell you guys not to fall into the toilet when you go to the bathroom too?"

---

Once you got back to your seats, Eddie hemmed and hawed about how the two of you missed the "best part," which he theatrically reenacted for you with Gareth and Dave after the show was over and you headed back into the mall.

He also couldn't shut up about it as he walked you back to your car in the employee lot. The other guys left, Gareth proudly showing off his new license by driving the other guys home in his mom's station wagon.

"The blood, the flesh," Eddie gushed, creepily running his fingers over your neck and shoulders, giving you the chills as you swatted at him. "It was so gross!!!"

"I'm sorry I missed it. Guess we're just gonna have to go see it again."

"We should do a group zombie costume for Halloween; it would be so cool. We could go trick or treating; the people around here don't really care how old you are. Scare all of the kids with some blood and guts. What do you think?"

"Sounds fun, I think you guys would look great!" You agreed.

"No, I meant you too," he insisted and then immediately backtracked. "Shit...unless you don't want to. Or you had another costume planned. I mean Halloween is months away but..." He continues rambling and you shake your head and stop him.

"Hey, I just figured it was something you'd want to do with the guys," you explained. "Not...me. Who am I? Not part of the band, not in Hellfire Club."

"Why wouldn't I want you there," he smiled, a little bashfully. Not the full, world-moving smile that changed the topography of his face, but a quiet one, one that made him look deceptively innocent. One that you hoped deep down, a little, was just for you. "With me--with us?!"

You couldn't get your hopes up.

You really couldn't.

“I-I mean, the guys all really liked you,” he continued. “I’m sure they’d want you there too.”

"I really liked them all too," you began. "They were cool...so if the guys are ok with it...and we don't do some stupid costume contest at work--they do things like that you know? Corporate sends out a stupid contest for a pizza party and...

"A-anyway, yeah I'd like to be part of your zombie group costume."

"Really?" he asked, similarly to earlier when he asked you to the movies.

"I mean...I might need to be bribed."

Eddie fell to his knees theatrically as you reached your car and you giggled, earning weird stares as people walked by on their way to their cars.

"Oh Queen of Glitter Kingdom," he began, one hand grabbing yours and the other over his heart. "I, your faithful servant, do promise to provide you with whatever sour candy you desire, as much as you please, from the collective treat buckets of the Hellfire Club if you deign to grace us with your presence during Trick or Treating this All Hallows Eve.

"Too much?" he asked after a short pause.

"Maybe," you tilted your head back and forth in consideration. Maybe too much, but that was part of what made him...him. "But I accept your most tempting offer."

He kissed your hand again before jumping to his feet with an excited yelp.

And once again, that thought returned:

How could anyone purposefully hurt a sweet nerd like Eddie?

"See you Sunday sweetheart?" he asked, wet eyes glistening happily.

"Yeah," you agreed. "See you Sunday."

---

Next Part: Standard Operating Procedures 1.03

Sales Associates (AKA the tag list): @gaysludge @storiesbyrhi @tayhar811 @spookybabey @word-wytch @maidenofartemis @dreamlandcreations @wickedbelle @blue-eyed-lion @aysheashea @blue-mossbird @abibliophobiaa

If you weren't given hours this week (if I forgot to tag you), I'm really sorry, we're just tight on payroll. I'll make sure you get a shift next time. ;)

(GUYS JUST LET ME HAVE THIS BIT!)

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future installations of the Store Manager Verse.

#Eddie Munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #Eddie muson fic #Eddie Munson stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #Eddie Munson fluff #store manager verse

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a-million-usernames · 1 month ago

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Monster Mash

Warnings: Children (Henry) Word Count: 690 As always, you can find this over on AO3.

A large pumpkin rolls heavily in the back of the SUV that takes a turn onto an otherwise deserted, leaf-riddled street of upstate New York. Behind the wheel, Charlie winces. He’s been trapped! Bamboozled! Tricked into coming here at the hands of both his son and you, but most by Henry’s devious manipulation tactics. Who’d have thought a pouty lip and threats of having the worst Halloween ever would be enough to get Charlie to cave?

He cannot recall the last time that he’s gone to a pumpkin patch - if ever - but surely the price he’d paid for the pumpkin that rolls so haphazardly in the trunk was exorbitant. It’s really not that much different than years before, you’d assured him while he griped in the checkout line. But…at least the sheets he and Henry will be wearing have cost him all of nothing. And…

He should be - is - grateful for this opportunity. The last few Halloweens with Henry have been spent in the heat-ridden hell that is Los Angeles. It’s about time he’s come out here to spend it in the falling leaves and rapidly cooling temperatures as the holiday was intended to be enjoyed.

“Are we there yet,” Henry asks from the back seat, his gaze cast outward towards the multi-colored canopy of the trees that pass by.

“Nearly,” says Charlie, his own gaze flitting from the rearview mirror back out onto the road ahead. “Just a few more turns and we’ll be there.”

In spite of all of his complaints, Charlie has gone through great lengths to ensure that this day goes off without a hitch for the three of you. He’s chosen a park, one with great fall foliage and little to no other visitors this time of year; the three of you have your autumnal outfits on and ready for any and all photos to be taken, and there is - of course - the pumpkin to be carved upon your arrival.

And carved it is…

Charlie lets Henry carve most of it, only stepping in to help when asked - helping to sharpen out the teeth and eyes - while you retrieve the sheets and sunglasses from the SUV’s trunk. Together it takes them no time at all to reach their desired outcome and, leaving the pumpkin’s interior on the grass for the wild animals to enjoy, the three of you trek a little deeper into the park to set up for your not so impromptu photoshoot.

“I can’t believe we’re finally doing this,” Henry exclaims excitedly, reaching for the sheets in your hand.

Setting one set aside, you are quick to help Henry pull the sheet up and over so it drapes properly on him, ensuring that the small eye holes sit as they should, allowing him to see before you hand him the sunglasses to put on. Once both you and Henry are satisfied with the outcome, you turn your attention to the second sheet and drape it over yourself, mirroring his look with your own, soon moving to stand behind him.

Nearby, Charlie is fiddling with his camera, adjusting the angle of it until he’s satisfied before setting the timer to give him ample time to run over to where the two of you stand. As he runs over, pumpkin in hand, you know that he’ll undoubtedly gripe about the remnants of the shredded insides sticking to his hair once he removes it post-shoot. The amusing thought elicits a smile from you beneath the cover of the sheet.

“Ready,” Charlie asks, the question asked prior to him slipping the hollowed out pumpkin over his head, the carved face now looking at the camera.

“Ready!” Henry’s eagerness shines through in his shouted reply, a hand pumping upward towards the sky. Quickly remembering that all extremities must be covered by the sheet, Henry lowers his hand back down to his side just as Charlie settles a hand against your back.

Beneath the coverings of the sheets and the pumpkin, the three of you smile just as the camera fires off a series of photos, capturing the first of many photos the three of you will take today.

#Charlie Barber #Charlie Barber x Reader #Charlie Barber x You #Henry Barber #cw: children #cw: henry barber #cw: henry #Halloween #Halloween Prompts #Autumn #Autumn Prompts #Fall #Fall Prompts #ADCU #formerly direnightshade #a-million-usernames

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sewerfight · 5 months ago

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not having a car anymore will have you doing the stupidest shit. Im in my twenties crises era where I'm worrying about indoor pollution and aesthetic values of my house for visitors and shit. So I bought a huge plant and then realized the mistake at the checkout. I pussied up and carried it home but had to take two buses and I tell you I was my own free circus for an hour and fifteen minutes the way people were getting a gooood look at the clown sitting in a window seat with a huge Alocasia Amazonica on their lap. then it started raining and I was sprinting home with it balanced on my shoulder because I feared overwatering like the devil was on my tail. But the odyssey is over boys and girls. The odyssey is over.

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thewritergx · 2 months ago

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Masked Stranger: Mandalorian x F!Reader

Summary: Rui works in her family’s shop helping tourist and local member of her community. One day, a strange man covered head to toe in Baskar walks in.

Warnings: Talks about hunting animals: Catching fish. SMUT containing: Fingering, Oral sex (male receiving), Unprotected sex, Lowkey breeding kink, Pet names (Sir, Baby, Little girl, Good girl).

Word Count: 6K

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Please feel free to like and repost. Click here if you’d like more stories from me

The sun hits my face in the morning, making me squint my eyes and turn in my bed covers. I do not want to go out today, and I regret my sheer curtains. I glance at the clock on my bedside table, 6:27 AM. I think about staying in bed an extra hour, but I know my father will be pissed if I am late to the shop today. You would think he would give me a day or two off every once in a while, seeing as how I run the entire place.

The planet of Sesid may offer beautiful beaches, but it comes with the awful tourists and ‘too cool’ locals.

Our shop sits on the cusp of tourist’s and mainlander’s attractions. Everyday, I see out-of-planet visitors, Draedans, and other local species. The tourists are usually rude, too loud, and let their children break everything. Many are rich members of organizations I do not care to know anything about, always bringing young women who rarely speak but often offer soft smiles. Sadly, they are also our best customers, often buying extra beach towels, paying for surfing lessons, tipping the cashiers. The Draedans are also rude and loud, but they respect our business and always tip. A few help around in the shop too. Trenk is my favorite. He works with me the most and is in charge of catching our live fish and crab. He keeps our fish business afloat, but has had trouble out fishing major stores around us.

My father opened the shop when he was a young boy, promising to make a living that would support him and his mother, my avó. Most species I see in the shop speak basic, but my father has kept his mother’s language, Kenari, alive in our small family.

I finally role over in my bed, throwing my blankets off and exposing my body. The moist air hits my skin. I rub the sleep out of my eyes then make my way to the bathroom, turning on the shower and undressing. Under the water I feel my body wake from the shock of the cold drops hitting me.

I throw on my bathing suit top, two black triangles tried around my neck, one small string keeping it in place. I wear a simple black bottom, the elastic material immediately digging into my ass cheeks. Over my swimsuit, I wear a pink sundress, easily removable but giving me more modest coverage for my walk to the shop. I imagine the tide will be perfect for a midday swim. The shop is a 5 minute walk from my small but comfortable apartment.

7:50AM, I step inside the shop. My pai (father) is already folding towels on the checkout counter. “Ten minutes early meu amor. Very good. Now come help me finish this batch,” my pai often greets me this way, working on a task and without looking up to see if it is actually me. I chuckle at him.

“I am often early, pai. You must start trusting me to do more around the shop”, a conversation we are often having. My father does not like to admit that he is aging, that he needs help. I do not like to admit that this fact scares me. Instead I joke, calling him an old man. This time my father chuckles. “You are a funny young lady, you can’t run merda.”

Several hours pass. I feel my stomach growl. My pai has been gone the last 45 minués, leaving me in charge and without a lunch break. Trenk brought in a beautiful trout he caught this morning. Descaled and on ice, it waits to be grilled. “Hello?” I hear from the counter in front of me. I stop fantasizing about the fresh fish and snap back to the reality for job.

“Alrighty, that will be 12 credits, please,” I say to the sticky child whose face is covered in a red, sweet slush. I hear the doorbell ding as another customer walks in. I let out a deep sigh. I look up expecting the usual customer, only to be greeted by a stranger in an important looking uniform. It is a thick black material that looks protective yet silky. On the most vulnerable parts of the body, rusty silver metal sits. The stranger is covered head to toe, a heavy helmet concealing their face. In the back, a long cape drapes down. I have never seen anyone dressed like him before, especially not with the intent to go to the beach.

“H-how can I help you…sir?” I sound nervous when I speak, something I usually never experience as the man…at least I think he is a man, stares at me intensely.

He cocks his head to the side, I assume in a confused manner. After a moment he lets out a small chuckle. “Yes, I hear from the locals that your shop sells the finest fish available. I am looking to buy enough to last four, maybe five days.”

I smile. I am glad my pai’s shop is holding a standard the locals set. “Um y-yes, we have a small selection today. Not many bites this week. We have three tuna and one sea bass available right now, but they will not last that long without a cooling system,” I explain.

“I will take the sea bass,” the man states plainly.

“Okay, I will just need a name for the order.” I began to fill out the information needed to complete the sale.

The man lets out another chuckle. I do not understand what is funny this time. “You do not know my people?” He asks.

This time, I let out an awkward laugh. “Am I s-supposed to?” Now my head is cocked in confusion.

“I suppose not… I just thought with the shop so popular you would have seen one of my people before. I am a Mandalorian, Mando.” I notice now that his voice is too deep and vibrates my entire being “at least that is what my friends call me.”

I write Mando on the form, trying not to look too interested in the man in front of me. “Okay, we have a few services available. We descale, debone, season, and cook the bass to your liking, you pick it up before the end of the day. Or you take it as is,” I smile, trying to remain casual. “The services are 20 credits, ‘as is’ will be 6 credits.”

“I will take the services.” The man reaches into a small bag, pulling out the credits and playing them in my hand. I notice the orange tips of his gloved hand as it brushes against mine.

For a moment I am stuck admiring the man. I force myself out of my illusions and explain that the fish will be done in two to three hours, the last of the fish cooked before we close.

The rest of the day is filled with me standing at the counter ringing up the customers, offering promotional deals, and denying the obvious flirts coming from the married rich men. It is around 6:00 PM. I flip the sign reading “open” that sits in the shops window.

I head back to the “employees only” door, ready to be back in my apartment. I feel my shoulders relax as I am finally alone in the store. Trenk sometimes stays to help me close, but with the lack of bites, he is forced to go out at dawn. The perfect casting time.

In the quiet of the shop, I hear the main door ding open. “Sorry, we’ve closed,” I yell across the shop. I hear no response and decide to walk back to the counter. I guess this asshole thinks their money is more important than my time.

As I get back behind the counter I am treated again by my mystery man from earlier in the day. “Oh, s-sorry. I am usually very good at remembering who is coming to pick up”. Although I was pissed a moment ago about the late customer, I feel a tingle of excitement at the man in front of me.

“It is okay, um.” he stands motionless in front of me. I wonder what he is thinking. After a moment he finally lets out another soft chuckle. “Your name, I did not get it”.

“Oh uh, my n-name is Rui,” I mumble. It is a name carried down by many women in my family.

“Rui, very pretty.” Again, the man and I remain motionless. I feel a shifting start in our energy.

“It is my avó’s name… t-thank you.” I feel my skin tingle and suddenly I become aware of my messy hair and sweaty forehead.

“My fish?” The man finally asks and I startle back to my job.“Oh, yes I-I am sorry sir.” I hurry to our warmer in the back, grabbing the sea bass wrapped in reusable wax paper. It is warm and smells amazing. A flavor only Trenk can achieve.

“Mando,” he responds back, “just call me Mando.”

Back behind the counter, I hand him the fish. This time, I see his hands are exposed. His skin is a golden color, like the sunrise on Sesid. “Okay, Mando. You are all set. Is there anything else I can do for you?” My customer service voice is back on.

“Eat with me?” He responds, “I know you must be hungry from working.” His hands still press against mine, staying in limbo as we pass over the fish.

“Oh uh, um.. I can do that.” Usually, I would never allow myself to be this comfortable around a stranger, much less one that does not show any part of their body to the world. “W-would you, uh, like to go to my a-apartment? I live only a block away.”

He breaks his hands away from mine. I weirdly miss the feeling. I am not sure the sensation my body is feeling. “Yes, sounds nice,” he answers with confidence. Not once have I heard this breathe change patterns or his voice stutter.

Mando and I close up the shop. I place the sea bass in a paper sack and slip it around my shoulder. We walk side by side the five minutes of alleyways it takes to my front door. His hand brushes up against mine a few times. I wonder if it is purposeful and how far I will allow it to go.

“I do not have people over often, so don’t judge my place too hard.” I suddenly feel nervous as we get to the door. I wonder if I am feeling regret or embarrassment at inviting a stranger into my home.

“I live on an old metal ship with a tiny green savage. Your place beats mine.” As we enter I feel him place his ungloved hand against the small of my back. I decide I like the feeling and I let him keep it there.

We walk inside and I place the fish inside my oven, keeping it warm while I make arroz, a white rice. Mando sits at my counter, watching as I plate the rice and remove the fish from the warm oven. I cut the fish in two halves, giving him the bigger piece and place them on top of the rice. Over the fish and rice I drizzle a homemade sauce, one my dad has been making since he was my age. Mano looks at me with his head cocked to the side again. That confused face again. “Is something wrong,” I ask. I wonder if my voice sounds as concerned as I truly am.

“You really do not know my people, huh? I am a mandalorian. You have heard of us?” He faces me now, turning his body toward me as we sit on the small stools in my kitchen.

“I’m sorry, I tend to keep to myself most days. I have really never heard of a mandalorian. What do you do?” I notice at that moment I have many questions about the man and his culture.

He brushes my hair behind my ear and I smile. “So innocent”. I feel my face heat up and my body start to shiver. He softly clears his throat and for a moment pauses. He removes his hand and sits a bit more upright.

“Um, my people are bounty hunters. I am on the planet looking for a Draedan.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a picture. A Draedan with a huge scar that goes from the top of his forehead to his neck, looks plainly in the camera. “We do not show our faces, ever, to anyone. We do not tell people our names.”

I probably looked shocked for a moment. Once I process the information I let my face relax. “That sounds lonely.” I say softly, placing my hand on the side of his helmet. I feel the cold metal press against my hand.

After a moment of quiet, I chuckle lightly. “How do you eat then?”

He laughs a real, deep, laugh this time. “I will turn away from you and you will turn away from me. I am trusting you though, not to look.” Suddenly his voice is serious and pleading at the same time.

“Okay, I understand.” I turn around slowly, holding the plate of food in my lap. I feel him shifting and hear a heavy metal being placed on my counter beside him. The moment feels strangely intimate, and I am scared I will turn around. Scared I’ll break his trust. For a moment I think about it. I would like to see his hair. I wonder if he has a big nose, if his face is scared like the Draedan in the picture.

“I will be back to buy more fish. The locals did not lie, it is amazing.” For a moment I do not recognize who is talking. His voice is more gentle, less raspy. For some reason, I feel a fire in me igniting at the sound of it.

For a while, we eat in silence. I feel his back press against mine. Even in this position, I feel the weight of the cold metal. “So um, I…Can people see you body or is that off limits too?” I immediately feel stupid for asking.

“You can see my body…if you would like.” Finally I hear his breathing change patterns. I know mine has too. I feel a shiver run down my body, right to my most sensitive areas. “Would you.. like to, Rui?” He asks slowly.I feel unable to speak. I swallow and try to gain the words. My back is still pressed against his, and I am happy he cannot see how flushed my face has become. “Y-yes, sir.” It comes out a whisper, hardly heard by the Mandalorian.

“Just Mando,” he states. Again, his voice is back to the confident normalcy I have grown to.

“Yes, Mando.” I hesitantly reply. “W-would uh, you l-like to see mine?”

Mando says nothing back. I feel him moving around and his plate cling gently on the counter. I know he is standing behind me now because he places his hand against my cheek brushing the soft skin. I hear his boots take a few steps and he is now standing in front of me, pushing my legs apart to stand in between them. He takes the plate from my lap, sitting it next to his. He grazes my cheek again, running his hand down to my shoulder. His fingers reach the straps of my dress and play with the thin string.

“I like this outfit. Do you wear dresses often?” His hand moves down lower, hovering just above my breast.

“Only on days I am expecting to teach suffering lessons.” I answer too matter-of-factly. I wonder if I’ve ruined his flirty vibe.

Mando laughs. I decide I love the sound of it. Helmet or not. “May I take it off?” He asks.

“Y-yes, Mando.” My body begins to shake, and my voice is a higher pitch than usual.

Gently, he picks me up off the stool and places my feet on the wooden floorboards. He stands in front of me and wraps his hands around my shoulders, pulling my dress softly to the floor. Immediately, I feel my body exposed to the air.

“Shit. You are so pretty, Rui. May I touch you?” His hands are by his side now and remain motionless.

“Yes, sir…Mando. Please.” I can’t believe I am begging for this man already. It has been too long since I have been with anyone else. Longer than I care to admit.

“If you keep calling me sir, I might not be able to stop.” Even with the helmet on, I swear I feel his hot breath against me. Gently, he moves his hands down to my breast, cupping a handful and messaging.

“You like when I call you that? Sir?” I look at him, where I believe his eyes would be.

He lets out a groan and begins to untie the small strap keeping my bikini top up.

“I have a feeling I would like any name that comes out of your mouth.” He places my nipples between two fingers, playing and tugging on them gently. I let out a soft moan, and bring my hands to his wrist, holding on as he continues.

“Fuck Mando, please. I-I think I need more.” My voice is desperate and already tired. “Can I please take this off?” I point to the metal plate on his chest, wanting to grab something, anything that is truly him.

“Soon baby girl, right now I want to make you feel good.”

I lead Mando to my bedroom, a soft lighting from the lamp in the corner filling the room. Mando places me gently on the bed. He stands in front of me and lifts my ass off the bed just enough to pull down my bottoms. I bring my legs together, unsure of my body at this moment.

Mando brings two fingers to my mouth, “Get these real wet, baby” he instructs. Immediately I began to suck, bobbing my head, twisting my tongue around them, and gathering as much salvia as my mouth will allow.

“That’s so good, little girl.” Mando softly begins to spread my legs, exposing my pussy to the cool air. I push back against him, making him use more force.

“Are you gonna make me get rough with you?” He says in a tone that I swear I see a crooked smile.

“No, sir” I say around his fingers. I wonder how rough he would get, if I allow him to.

“Good, Rui. Now let me see you.” He uses a demanding tone, but I feel safe. Like if I truly didn’t want to, he would stop and apologize.

I decide not to test him anymore, and slowly I spread my legs farther, giving him a real view. I trace my finger down my body and began to spread the lips of my pussy. I hear Mando let out a quite “fuck”. It sends shivers down my body.

Finally, Mando removes his finger from my mouth, satisfied with the amount of spit coating them. He brings them to my clit, lightly forming small circles. It is agonizing slow but melting my body.

“Oh shit, Mando. That feels good,” I breathe in between moans. His name rolls off of my tongue too gently, too satisfying.

“Such a sensitive little girl. How long has it been since this pussy was touched?” I feel his fingers speed up a bit, and he starts to approach my entrance.

“Two, no…three years.” I answer honestly but I feel embarrassed to admit it to him. There really had been no reason I waited so long to be intimate with anyone, other than the fact that every man on this watery planet seems to disgust and annoy me. Plus, I use my own toys. Although I admit it will never feel as good as another person, it keeps me from needing anyone else’s pleasure.

Mando’s fingers slow, almost to a stop. He looks at me and caresses my face.“I will take my time, then. Just relax, Rui.” He starts to speed up his fingers again, costing small moans out of me.

I feel him begin to insert one finger, and I let out a dazed gasp. Slowly, he inserts his index finger to his knuckle. He leaves it there for a moment before he begins to pull it out and pump it back in. I feel my pussy squeeze around it, sucking it farther inside me.

His other hand travels to my neck gently applying soft pressure. “T-that’s so tight,” Mando whispers, his voice dark and needy. I only let out a moan in response, too nervous to speak.

A few minutes pass of his finger pumping in and out before I start to feel him forming a “come here” motion, hitting my g spot.

“May I add another?” Mando releases his hand from my neck, slowly crassesing it down my body.

I breathe deeply, nodding my head.

“Let me hear you say it, little girl.” I feel him remove his finger entirely, waiting for my response.

“Yes, Mando. Please, add another. It feels so good”. My voice is shaky, almost a whimper.

“Good little girl.” He adds his fingers back in and immediately I feel a change in the tightness, an extra pressure added. This time, he curls his finger with more strength. Each motion he makes presses against my g spot with light force, making me more wet by the second.

“Oh fuck, I might come like that,” I plead. Mando responses with a groan, and I see him begin to palm himself throughout his jeans.

His pace grows steadily and I feel the pressure grow inside me.

“Fuck, yes baby. Cum on my fingers.” I hear him finally unzip his pants, removing his dick from the pressure of clothes.

I do as I’m told and feel myself tighten even more around his fingers. The pressure inside me finally breaks and I release all the stress my body has held throughout the day.

“Mmh, good girl. Look at the mess you made. Look so pretty cumming on my fingers.” He removes his fringers from inside me. I see the slick, hot wetness left on them and lick my lips. I wonder for a moment what I taste like but my thought it cut short when I feel him shove his fingers in my mouth again. It tastes hot, sticky. I moan and lick my wetness away, craving a different taste.

I sit up, placing my hands on his clothed thighs, finally paying more attention to the thick length of the man in front of me. He is big, bigger than any ex I’ve been with. I notice the tan, pink tip and the thickness. I hope it will fit in my mouth. “C-Can I um, suck it?” I ask nervously.

“Would you like to?” I hear a sense of hesitation in his voice.

“Yes, I would really like to.” I look up, making as much eye contact with him as the helmet will allow. I see myself in his vizer. I admire the shape of my ass, the roundness of my boobs.

I began to slowly lower his jeans, unveiling his balls and the golden skin of his thighs. I began to slowly kiss the skin around his member. I feel him place his hand on my head, lightly gripping my hair. Suddenly, I start to feel nervous. It has been centuries since I took anyone else in my mouth, and I feel my throat start to dry.

Before I start to doubt myself anymore, I decide to go for it and take the tip in my mouth. I open my mouth wide, careful not to hit him with my teeth.

“Oh shit, that’s it. Good little girl.” I look up and see Mano’s head is already tilted back, his grip in my hair tightening. I start to bob my head, making sure not to move pass the tip. I swirl my tongue, tasting the precum that has leaked out considerably. There is a hint of salt and sweat under the taste of warm vanilla. I hear Mondo’s groans grow louder and more frequently. I take it as a sign of success and move my mouth farther down his length. I allow him to hit the back of throat and let out a deep gag. I feel my split pile up and release him from my mouth before settling the spit on his tip. I begin pumping my hand down his member before returning it to my mouth.

“Fuck. Rui, you are doing so good.” I feel my heart flutter with content, my doubt slowly leaving my thoughts. Mando abruptly applies pressure to my head, forcing me down further. “Twist your hand while you're pumping me,” he demands.

I do as I’m told, wanting to please him as much as I can. I let out a “yes, Mando” as much as my full throat will allow me to.

Mando countines to use my mouth and push me down further. I try my hardest to keep my mouth open and breathe through my nose. After a few minutes he begins slowing his pace and losses his grip in my hair.

“If you keep letting me do that, I’m gonna cum before I even get a chance to feel you wrapped around me.” His beating is deep. I see his chest rising and falling under his gear.

“You liked it?” I ask with a glimmer of hope, whipping away the spit from my mouth and hands on the blanket under me.

“Your mouth is a paradise. I could stay inside it for days if you allowed me to.” Mando straightened up my hair, removing any mess his fingers may have made. I try not to let his statement go to my head and instead let out a polite thank you.

In this moment, I want so badly to kiss him, to suck a mark on his neck. Instead, I place a kiss on the cold metal of his chest. Silently, he teasingly removes the material cover his chest and the boots blocking his pants until he is left standing in only his helmet.

I feel excitement run throughout my body. I try to keep from shaking as I run my hands down his chest. I notice a few big scars scattered around his chest, stomach, a few on his arms. I kiss each of them, paying extra attention to one justt under his concealed neck. I wonder for a moment how he got each of them. Did they hurt? Are there any he wishes were gone? Does he enjoy having a badge of honor from his bounties? I notice one that's pinker than the rest, more fresh and angry looking. I run my finger over it lightly, taking in every detail of his body he will allow me.

Mando steps closer, cupping my chin in his hand. I nuzzle in his grip, feeling the rough calluses of his palm brush against me. Mando lays me down flat on the bed, my legs bent at the knees. He brings his body forward, starting to hover over me. He places his palms at the side of my head, lining up his pelvis with mine. I feel his cock lightly brush against the outside of my thigh and I shiver. I am unable to control by breathing anymore and I shake nervously.

“Tell me if it’s too much.” He says, his covered face just over mine.

“Yes, sir,” I nod, and spread my legs to give him easier access.

Mando starts to align the tip of his cock to my entrance. I grip one of his arms, preparing for the sensation of pressure as the first inch or two enter me. I let out a gasp, feeling him stretch me more than I ever have been. I feel my climax build already.

“Oh fuck, Mando.” I try to calm myself down and relax my body, “You’re so big”. I try not to moan too loud as I feel him finally press all the way in. He hits my cervix softly, causing more moans to leave my mouth. Mando waits for a moment, making sure I am ready for him to start moving.

I nod at his hesitantly. Gently, he moves his hips out. I feel his tip still inside before he moves back in again. He is so thick, I feel my walls almost reject him. He brushes again me g-spot, and I try not to wiggle away from him.

“So tight, so wet for me,” Mando whispers. I feel the vibration from the voice changer in the air. Manos bends his arms, his forearms now resting next to my head. His body is closer now, the full weight of him presses against me. His helmet rests at the side of my head, and I hear every groan and breath he makes. I wrap my legs around him, sinking him in further.

His trust get a bit faster and he hits my g-spot with more force. I can hear his skin slapping against mine and the sound of our wetness mixing. My moans become more of a cry as my body begs for more pressure. More of him. My hands travel down to his back and I try not to dig my nails too deep. Although from the sight of his scars, I’m sure he can take it.

“Fuck Mando, please.” I can hardly form words any longer.

“Please What, Rui? What do you need from me, little girl?

“Please, a little harder,” I say through gasps of air. Immediately he snaps his hips harder against me. I almost see stars before the pressure builds in me even more. “Yes, just like that. I’m about to cum.” After a few thrust he is pushing me over the edge and my legs are shaking around him. My walls grip him tighten and I swear my juices are leaking from my entrance.

“Good girl, cum all over this dick.” Mando speeds up even more, each thrust hammering my g-spot. Before I’m able to recover, I’m pushed over the edge again. This time my body is unable to prepare, and I let out a small scream.

I feel Mando’s thrust get messy, loosing his rhythm . His breath gets hotter, thicker and he is whispering dirty pet names in my ear.

“Fuck, baby. So so tight. Where should I finish?” It takes me a moment to process his question. Once I understand, I contemplate begging him to fill me up, drip down my thighs, and make me his. I try to throw the thought away and tell him to cum anywhere else, but I can’t force myself to stop thinking of the warm sensation.

“J-just wherever you want, anywhere.” It comes high pitched and needy.

“Tell me where, Rui. Where do you want it?” I hear the struggle in his voice, each word dragged out an extra syllable.

I let out a quite, unintelligible “I-inside me, please”.

“Good little girl, so sweet to me.” His hips hit me with a force I have never experienced, hitting my cervix so hard I swear it will leave a bruise. My nails are undeniably digging in his back, leaving marks that will last for days. I try not to scream anymore and bite down on Mando’s fingers he’s brought back inside my mouth. I feel small tears gather in the corners of my eyes.

After a few thrust, I hear Mando let out a string of curses. His fluid mixes with mine, and I feel a warm thick substance spill out of the side around Mando’s cock. He slows his hips and stays motionless inside me. After and a few moments, he gently pulls out and I whine form the lost of him.

He lays next to me as I try to stop my breathing and keeps moans from falling out of my mouth. My legs are still shaking and I feel unable to move. Mando notices my struggle, and brings me up to chest, laying on top of him.

“Shh little girl, I got you. You did so good for me.” Mando slowly rubs my back letting out more small “shh” sounds. After a few minutes, my breathing is relaxed and the shaking is less intense. I feel my eyes getting heavy as I relax into his warm body and before I can keep myself from the temptation, I am falling asleep in his arms.

#mando #the mandolarian #mando x reader #smut #mando smut #mando oc #mando fanfiction #mando x you #female reader #fem reader #oneshot

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trofysisters · 9 months ago

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Алешка

Коварная соблазнительница не могла простить Алешку. Мало того, что он разорвал с ней помолвку, так еще и на свидания с другой ездит, а та ��му стихи посвящает. (The insidious seductress could not forgive Alyoshka. Not only did he break off his engagement with her, but he also goes on dates with someone else, and she dedicates poetry to him)

Но применение физической силы и запугивания не помогло. Алешка всё равно поехал на свидание со своей красавицей. Первым делом он продемонстрировал окружающим, что она - его девушка, заключив ее в объятия и одарив жарким поцелуем. А то на нее уже заглядываются всякие странные личности. (But the use of physical force and intimidation did not help. Alyoshka still went on a date with his beauty. The first thing he did was demonstrate to those around her that she was his girlfriend by hugging her and giving her a hot kiss. And then all sorts of strange personalities are already looking at her)

Как истинный джентльмен, он купил красавице шикарный букет, который зачем-то на кассе запаковали в коробку, (Like a true gentleman, he bought the beauty a gorgeous bouquet, which for some reason was packed in a box at the checkout,)

и повел в зону фуд-корта, чтобы накормить. Однако красавица засомневалась, хватит ли у него на это денег. (and took her to the food court area to feed her. However, the beauty doubted whether he had enough money for this)

Это было обидно, поэтому свое раздражение Алешка излил на полицейском, которая его за это чуть не арестовала. Пришлось спешно покидать здание. (This was offensive, so Alyoshka vented his irritation on the policeman, who almost arrested him for this. He had to quickly leave the building)

Однако вопрос денег стоял остро, но Алешка знал, как заработать. К сожалению, победить на конкурсе танцоров не получилось. Его обскакала какая-то мелкая девчонка. (Alyoshka knew how to make money. Unfortunately, he failed to win the dancing competition. He was defeated by some petty girl)

Тогда он решил выиграть в карты, но противная девчонка была и там. Пришлось ее прогнать, чтобы она снова его не обыграла. (Then he decided to win at cards, but the nasty girl was there too. He had to send her away so that she wouldn’t beat him again)

Пока в соседнем зале веселились посетители, Алешка упорно пытался выиграть хоть какие-то симолеоны. Наступил вечер, за столом остались только он и вредный старичок. Алешка сумел выиграть только 73 симолеона - меньше, чем стоил букет для красавицы. (While visitors were having fun in the next room, Alyoshka stubbornly tried to win at least some Simoleons. Evening came, and only he and the mischievous old man remained at the table. Alyoshka managed to win only 73 Simoleons - less than the bouquet for the beauty cost)

Попытка заработать денег в самодеятельности также оказалась провальной. Возможно, устраивать концерты ночью - не ��учшая идея. (An attempt to earn money through amateur activities also turned out to be a failure. Perhaps holding concerts at night is not the best idea)

#sims 2 #devchata #guys

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mochilatae · 8 months ago

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Listen (Taehyung x Reader)

Word Count: 8.9kish

Pairing: Taehyung x Y/n

Rating: 18+/Mature/Explicit

Warnings: Dirty talk, voice kink, shyness/nervousness, flirting, stalking behavior, mild obsession/fixation, fingering, kissing, sucking, orgasms (yours), squirting (light), body fluid kink, masturbation, rubbing, questionable ethical stuff (Tae using the school directory to snoop), implied rule breaking (dorm visitor hours violation, etc), sucking, biting, college student encounter, multiple orgasms, swearing, finger sucking, body fluid ingestion (he licks you off his skin). I'm sure I forgot some.

Genre: PWP, Strangers to Lovers

AUs: College BTS

Summary: Everyone has kinks. You stumble upon your own when a sound takes over your thoughts and desires. A plan to discover more about it goes further, faster than you expect.

Author’s Note: This one took a while to edit and rewrite (here and there), but thank you for reading it!

If you liked it, feel free to leave a comment telling me! Reblogging is appreciated but never required.

Tag List: @kiestrokes

Have you ever been attracted to someone’s voice?

If you’d been approached with that question, the answer would have been ‘No’. …Until this year.

Until exactly a month and a half ago, at the start of this term.

Auralism. You’d learned the meaning only recently.

Tonight your finger followed the printed text along the page until you found the word and carefully traced each letter with a pointer fingertip. Every curve and swoop of the ink, your belly fluttered.

To think: this sudden feeling inside you from a sound–one coming from another human being just doing the most basic kind of communication–could have an actual term to represent it. Something finally put to meaning the yawning pit that opened up inside you, at hearing a voice.

The tingle was in your chest again, then it moved south. You turned the page and scanned a block of words at the top, grateful for somewhere to put your focus and ignore the tension piling on. It had been with you from the moment your sneaker sole met the faded ruby carpet inside the library’s front hall.

While it hadn’t lessened over time, reading–or trying to–did the job to sink your fixation into something else, temporarily. Eventually a low chime from the intercom nearby broke your reverie. You glanced towards the sound.

Although it was expected you still held a breath. Soon enough came: The voice, buttery and deep, with the hint of a smile. The tone, always calm, regardless of day or time.

‘Attention all patrons. The Pierce Library will be closing in 15 minutes. Please gather your belongings and bring any materials for checkout to the front desk.’

You could almost recite it by heart. Instead, you leaned back, eyes closed, to enjoy the last hints of the voice until the sound faded. You were always waiting for this moment. Chasing it, slipping away too quickly for as long as it took to arrive. THAT was what set fire to your senses.

Your smile grew, checking your phone to confirm. Right on the nose–exactly 15 minutes before those front doors would be closed and locked. That meant he’d soon come through.

What you’d heard just a moment ago wasn’t the usual recording and that was an even bigger bonus tonight. The barest pause between instructions wasn’t lost on you. Noting those little differences had such an impact in tonight.

It wasn’t just that you’d heard the same spiel enough. A lot was owed to the knowledge of employee routines and schedules. Spending enough time here made that a natural eventuality. Which really mattered for one person in particular: The owner of that voice.

The voice that nibbled at your self control from the first time you heard it. Nibbles became bites as the interest and curiosity grew, along with attraction. You carried a simmering heat almost constantly. There wasn’t a time you passed by the library now without feeling light headed or tight from the waist down.

Normally being so ‘into’ something wasn’t your way. Nothing got such a hook into your brain. That it was specific to a person, that had you waffling between shame and delight.

After a deep breath, you stole a look at that word again, then closed the book and stood. You felt a little impressed at how deep your research had gone–from first glance in a kitschy sex book to the present deep dive into the psychological aspects of this interest.

Book cover braced against your chest, you swung one hip against the chair back. The remaining lights in the library’s further stacks blinked off. Aisle by aisle at the blackness closed in, leaving the barest shape of book tops barely discernible in the dim light overhead.

Phone tucked into one pocket. And the book. Actually leaving with non-study material was a mood booster. Reading for pleasure proved to be something much rarer these days.

The walk to the circulation desk was quick enough and you stopped there at the opposite end of the Checkout sign faintly swinging when the library doors opened, then closed.

Laying the book on the counter, you glanced around. The heavy silence left plenty of room to notice so many minor things: the checkout computer screen, still aglow. An errant pen, sideways across into an open notebook, next to a nondescript textbook–thicker than anything you’d bought this term. Judging from the density it wasn’t a light read.

Did he own it? To be graced with a golden voice, AND a strong study ethic? An appetite for learning did things to you too. Whatever the word for attraction to intelligence was, you’d seen it once then promptly forgotten. In spite of that your suffering was doubled.

Facing forward didn’t prevent the light shock when a form appeared at the farthest of the counter and stepped behind it, then headed your way. The world narrowed as he got close. It was a good few inches of height difference. You kept focus on the book until he stopped right across from where you stood.

He met your rising stare with a smile. The big, beautiful kind. He barely tugged the shirt sleeves rolled to the inside of both elbows. Not a complete departure from the usual campus attire and enough to make him stand out. At least to YOU.

As he stood right here, you confirmed an earlier suspicion: he’d passed by before, pushing a cart of books and humming over the creaking wheels. The view of his retreating back had been as satisfying as seeing him approach now. A thin smile crested your lips. Even under the light here, his eyes held a curious glimmer. The angle of his head changed and his welcoming smile shrank a little.

He motioned, raising one dark brow. “Checking out or returning?”

This voice, so distant for weeks–only through speakers and on oft played recordings–was now directly in front of you and speaking to you. Several of your fingers curled the counter edge, clinging.

“Um..” A moment later, you managed to slide the book across the counter with a small push. His eyes went to the cover. “..Checking out.” After an extended study of the book, he shot you a look, grinning more.

Whomever this guy was, his existence proved the concept of perfect facial symmetry wasn’t just a hyped theory. Just keep checking those boxes, sir. It all kept getting better–a perfect voice. Perfect face. Brains. You couldn’t dare to imagine what else he was hiding that was on your list of ‘things’.

If any other students had queued up behind you, there was no chance you’d even notice. And who could blame you? Especially when he found your stare again. Your nails sank into the wood under the counter’s edge.

The man braced one elbow into the top and his lids dropped a little.

“What’s your name?”

“Me?” To think you’d drummed up scenarios with him asking this very question. It was fun to imagine him watching you too. From afar. Maybe not as sneaky, like you tried to be. But letting that possibility into your mind was almost enough to burn you up on the spot.

You took a breath, working hard to separate yourself from spiraling over this routine conversation. He probably did it hundreds of times a week so this wasn’t a thing for him. You were sure, even if it was moving your entire world right now.

Half turned away and waiting for a reply, his eyes narrowed on the monitor. He clicked around, then typed into a small pop up on the screen. Even the electric white glow complimented his features. But you almost couldn’t be surprised, even if your fevered, crush drunk mind might be exaggerating things. Without anyone around, it was okay to lean into the delulu a bit.

After enjoying the view, you drew a bracing breath. It was time to get a grip. Focus. Get through this. Shape up, girl. You came here enough, this had to happen eventually. You went looking and found him.

Now was not the time to mess things up. Wherever this ‘situation’ might end up.

You fumbled, patting your coat and jeans pockets and your belly dropped. No familiar shape of your student ID in any pocket. The air thinned and you coughed, throat tightening. The sound earned his side eyes and crooked one corner of his mouth.

“Name?” He asked, much quieter. There was a purr in his tone that rode your nerves and struck right between your thighs. Just like when you listened to those recordings. The oddest kind of Pavlovian response, and what a time to have it.

You were about as sturdy as a sand barrier under the rushing tide. What could come from full frontal exposure to something you’d been craving for weeks. It was enough of an ask that your legs not collapse. To hide a tremble, both hands dove in your pockets. Your shoulders started to rise.

“I don’t have my ID..” You had to sound nervous as hell. Not since first year speech class had you felt that heat at your collar, but it was here, now. Begging you to tug and vent the warmth bottle necking.

“I don’t need that. ..Just a name is fine.”

“Y/n.”

“Y/n..” His fingers moved over keys. The screen changed, washing his face in more neon hues.

“..Miss L/n?”

The man turned back, then opened the book. Inside the cover, he scanned the barcode, then stamped a due date. Next to it he wrote initials.

There was your chance with his head bowed. No time like the present. Couldn’t be too obvious. It didn’t prove easy, especially when a few more lights turned off nearby and more darkness closed in.

You leaned closer to ‘check’ the date, and noted the letter T. Much more than that was challenging in the upside down view. His handwriting wasn’t flawless but it was unique enough you couldn’t quite catch the second letter.

He wore no name tag–no student worker did. It wasn’t as if the night was long enough to stand here, squinting at lined paper and looking for an answer. Especially one solved by a direct question.

“--Um…what’s your name?”

Facing you again, he held out a receipt as he replied. “Tae.”

His muted shyness had you delighted.

“Tae..hmm..” You suddenly detected a note of lavender in the air. It had to be coming from Tae.

“Don’t think I’ve heard that name before.”

“Well, my name isn’t common.”

“..And your last name?” Not even rising nerves could stop you asking.

Hormones that had been dining on your self control from the moment you sat down continued, unabated. Nature’s greatest inspiration and owed all the thanks for bringing you here–day after day. Keeping you camping in a library chair or at a table, nourishing a quiet obsession. Working towards an eventuality that finally arrived tonight.

“No one usually asks me that.” Tae showed no offense or displeasure. If anything you read a pleasant surprise. The same couldn’t have been said about you if the same question had come from a stranger at a first meeting.

“Hope it’s not rude?” You asked, just to clear the tiniest nagging doubt.

“No.” Back was the shy smile that made your guts heavier. After a pause, he gazed at you, continuing.

“My last name is Kim.”

“I’ve heard that name around campus.” You admitted. Kim was a common enough last name. Was there a chance he’d know any of the other Kims walking around on this campus? None of the ones you’d seen bore a single passing resemblance to Tae.

NO ONE could look like him.

Tae smirked. “No relations, as far as I know.”

“Yeah?”

Tae nodded. “I’ve met a few of them–had some classes with one. Super smart guy. Probably the smartest I’ve ever met here.” As you watched, Tae picked at a few specks on his sweater. “I could use some of his intelligence, honestly.” He concluded.

You winced at his subtle self depreciation. You were prone to the same thing, so it was easy to understand, but you still didn’t like or believe it when Tae said it.

“That’s not light reading by any means.” You pointed to the nearby textbook you’d seen before Tae showed up.

He glanced at it, then offered a shrug. “It’s required course reading. I DO like to read, though.”

“Well…you’re working at the right place, then. Being a library employee does have perks.”

He nodded with a laugh that made you smile too. One thing stood out this close: the shape of his natural smile. Was so much more than just handsome. How many other girls saw it? Especially with that grin spread on his face during small talk, or when he went about his day on campus.

It wasn’t reasonable to assume you were the only one thinking about Tae, but that didn’t matter at this moment because he was talking to YOU. This indisputable fact had your head lighter.

“What is this book? I’ve never read it before..” As he asked, Tae pulled it closer and spun the book around. As he read the cover, one finger followed the words. But this digit was long and slender. You swallowed.

“Just something silly–”

“The Psychology of Human Sexuality.” He murmured, lifting one brow again. Fervently you prayed he didn’t open it randomly to ‘check things out’. Or even worse—discover the page you’d noted. And the post-it with your new favorite word written in flourishing letters.

Heartbeat thundering, you let go over the counter and fussed with your pockets again. Your throat had gone from being tight and pulsing to dry and hoarse as you spoke.

“Kind of recreational. Seemed interesting, compared to the usual required reading.” That was way more truth than anything else. No shame pressured you to lie. And anyway, you had a strong feeling Tae wasn’t the type to judge a choice.

His expression turned placid. Tae seemed to be assessing something, then nodded and glanced at the clock nearby and took a step back from the counter.

“I hope you enjoy it, then.”

After he turned away, you watched as he gathered his things–a black hoodie. Book bag. Finally he turned back to the computer, clicking and typing again. Eventually the screen went dark and he straightened.

That was your sign. Get while the getting is good. Proper conversation always went best when the participants knew the right time to leave.

“Thanks for checking this out to me” you murmured. It took a little bit before “It was nice meeting you..” followed.

“It’s my job..and I kinda like this whole checking out books thing.” Tae was back to being cutely shy and it really suited him. So did the cheeky smile that came with it,much to your delight. It was hard not to wonder how often he trotted this smile out with others.

For a few seconds Tae’s attention was on the exit.

“Have a good rest of your night, Y/n.” He finally murmured.

You preferred to keep your focus on him. Really nothing could tear it away at this point. There wasn’t much else in this plane of existence right now with Tae in front of you. A little over the top, but this was a literal dream come true.

“Thanks.” You took a few backward steps, then turned and headed for the doors. His next move would remain a mystery.

Your steps quickened and you were at the doors in second, then ducking through. Outside, you inhaled cool night air as you waited until your racing heart slowed just enough. It was like you hadn’t felt. Hadn’t realized. Just like so many other things in the orbit of Taehyung Kim.

The doors clicked as your foot left the last step. At that sound weight slid away.

‘Have a good rest of your night..’ Tae’s parting words weren’t much, but they left you floating.

The misty air of the evening was erased by a flush of desire as you hurried across the quad. In the distance the shape of your dorm became visible as you closed the distance, darting around planters and benches. It was so empty and quiet, but every step his words repeated again and again. So did the bolts of arousal, stabbing through your core.

You didn’t have the sense or nerve to say it then, but you thought it now. I will,Tae. All thanks to you.

————————————————————————

It wasn’t a far off assumption that the plan of your night would follow routine: you, belly down, on your bed and leafing through the pages of a magazine.

But that was before tonight, when fate saw fit to change things. Like in the library. Revelation was the knock on your door. Not exactly unusual, but you didn’t have many visitors, unlike other students here. And that was how you preferred it.

Routine flow stopped as you looked up, waiting for a beat.

This was a fairly large building on campus. It wasn’t odd to get someone knocking now and then, having come to the wrong floor in search of a friend. It was a weekly occurrence, and not one you were hard pressed to resolve right now. You could wait more. Maybe even long enough, whoever it was would go away.

The knocking at this hour was odd. Usually the ‘wrong room’ faux pas happen during daylight hours, or twilight at worst, but that detail was minor. No need to split hairs about it.

A double thump against the door, this one firmer, with a clear intention. Whomever this was, wrong or right, they probably would do another knock. And maybe even another. Soon it would draw attention. For how quiet it had to be in the hall outside, sound could carry MUCH further without the rabble of daily dorm life as a buffer.

Standing with a huff, you tugged on the first oversized sweatshirt within reach and headed for the door. Standing close to the dull painted wood, you aligned one eye to the peephole and squinted through the fisheye lens.

Not as much was clear, save for a mop of vaguely golden-brown hair and the barest outline of a long coat with broad shoulders. Distortion stretched the figure, adding height. Or it might be the panic in action—that never failed to warp your senses.

After you unlocked the door, you peeked into the open space. The tip of your nose preceded you, catching the musky hallway air.

“Who—”

Quickly you stopped as a pair of eyes met yours under a tangle of bangs. No confusion. No wrong room goofiness. No mistake to excuse this. Those were the very same eyes that gazed across the checkout desk.

Him.

Taehyung Kim. Smiling warmly enough to dispel the chill rising.

“Hi.” He held up a book, the cover facing out, then waved it. “Forget something?”

Your eyes went there, the hand on the door knob tightening as weakness crept up your legs. THAT was the nagging feeling. What you’d been trying to remember since coming through the door a while ago.

Whether you wanted to faint or hoped the ground would open up and pull you to the center of the earth, it was all the same. In seconds sweat dappled your spine. Your face got hotter as you met his question with a shrinking smile after sneaking another unnecessary peek at the cover.

That was your book in his hand, bobbing back and forth. Oh my god. You didn’t remember giving your address. Whatever rule he might have broken, he had access to the student system to get what he needed. That meant he’d made the conscious effort, then went further, coming across campus to find you.

At this late hour. After work. On a school night.

“Geez.” After you opened the door a bit more, Tae passed the book, then rested his empty hand on the door frame. He wasn’t imposing or inserting himself over the threshold. You could close the door, safe in the gut feeling that he wouldn’t stop you.

It was the next logical step with delivery complete, if that was his true purpose. And why wouldn’t it be? Tae wore such a relaxed grin and his lids sat lower. It was subtle, but there in the depths of his eyes: a flirt. Sweet and delightful, but charismatic too. A change from when he’d scanned your book at the checkout desk.

DO SOMETHING. The urgency roared through your mind. Soon thought became action when you raised the book and waved it like he'd done.

“Thanks.” Your lips vaguely shook, even curved in a smile. If Tae could tell, there was no sign in his generally neutral expression, after his smile melted away.

He squinted through the open door, past your form and without a trace of shyness. Tae wasn’t rushing the moment as he eyed the interior. There wasn’t much to see from where he stood. None of the dorm rooms were spacious enough to give everything away at the door. Your single bedside table lamp and string lights along the bookshelf didn’t bring further clarity. They barely provided ambiance.

“It’s kind of a pigsty at the moment.” You freely confessed. Suddenly you were sure this was too much stuff in too little a space, even if it hadn’t bothered you until this moment. Tae made you aware–of your body now, and everything else around you. Nothing like your complete obliviousness in the library.

Tae’s form lounged into the frame, filling the space nicely, testing your self control all too quickly. It wasn’t like he’d grown a few inches on the walk over, but he had more on you than first gleaned in the library.

“Hard to tell.” Tae’s brow rose, then he chuckled. You didn’t feel like laughing. Couldn’t, with your chest growing tight.

“Was there something else?” You managed. The book seemed heavier after you asked. Staying mute, Tae studied you this time before he stood upright again.

“Are you busy? I wouldn’t mind seeing inside here more. You say it’s a mess—that’s a relative term. I’ve had roommates that lived in a hoarder’s dream. I doubt your room is in that kind of shape.”

Rapidly your heartbeat climbed.

“S..sure.”

You stepped back, opening the door further. Tae came through. Maybe this was one of those REALLY vivid dreams. Feeling so real you’d swear on everything you were awake. The thing you wanted so much–him here, in your dorm room alone–was happening this very second. Apparently all the prayers you’d sent up finally paid off tonight.

Still, you squeaked in surprise as Tae rolled his shoulders and the coat slid to his forearms. Stripping himself of his outerwear proved his stature wasn’t all fashion illusion. Even in his remaining shirt and jeans, he looked impressively broad.

You turned back from locking the door to see Tae draping the coat over one forearm, then he began to scan.

“Where should I put this?”

You took the jacket and hung it on a nearby hook–the only one empty among the row of several already overburdened ones.

“This is fine..” You replied.

As you moved further into the room, Tae’s steps trailed. As you paused in the middle, between the bed and a small closet directly across from it, he stopped just at your right side. Silence that went on for a handful of seconds while you surveyed the space.

“Not as small as I expected for a single room.” Tae hummed in conclusion. Either he was being polite or optimistic, you couldn’t decide, but you had to appreciated it either way.

“I guess. I can’t complain. Makes it a lot easier without a roommate. Somehow those double rooms manage to feel smaller.”

“Yeah?” Tae stepped away, strolling to the foot of the bed. You went to the left side, attention anywhere but him.

Eventually you gazed out the window and followed the slow procession of a couple, meandering down the sidewalk below. You wouldn’t mind holding hands with Tae the way you saw those strangers entwining fingers, arms swinging lightly. Probably chatting quietly with each synchronized footstep.

On another day or in another time you might have had the balls to go for that, but right now was WAY too soon, even if you’d touched him more in your fantasies. Without any kind of hesitation. The idealized version of you lived under no phantom weight of insecurity or awkwardness.

“Mind if I sit here?” Tae motioned towards the bed. You nodded and he sank down, both hands limply resting on his thighs. Here you could really stew in the fact that his attention wasn’t diminishing in how good it made you feel. It was like he was returning the favor. Squaring things up evenly for all the attention you’d paid to him for so long.

Did Tae have the same twisting inside, holding your stare? It would be something else to sink so much time gazing into those eyes as you’d spent reading books. Even the one you’d forgotten tonight, that he’d kindly delivered. With the book, there was hope he’d indulge you in a different kind of education.

Settled enough, Tae continued. “The book. Why that one?”

At his reminder, you looked down at the book lightly trembling in your grasp. Instinctively you opened it to the post-it tagged page and the word, notated in bright blue ink.

“Just…curious.” You were telling some measure of truth. It was one of many reasons, but you chose to keep Tae ignorant enough beyond that for as long as you could. Some would call it risk minimization. Or self preservation.

“Yeah?” He braced one palm into the bed and the other hand he held out. It was quickly obvious that he wanted to see the book again. Without comment you passed it back. Not bothering to close it. Maybe Tae had opened this thing and already saw the post-it on his walk over.

“I’m guessing you don’t make it a habit to forget books you check out..” He skimmed one page, then turned a few before stopping to read a little.

Finally he reached the post-it page. You prayed and hoped he didn’t know the word, as much of a longshot as that might be. A snowball in hell had better chances.

As demonstrated earlier, Tae’s expression revealed no understanding or ignorance as he finally looked up.

“...---you usually post-it note the pages, or is that reserved for textbooks you buy?”

You brushed a strand of hair away from one temple. Not your best effort to be casual, even with a tepid shrug. It was more a nervous kick back than a graceful toss of the head that sent your hair back.

“Not that it’s important, really. …Is that a death worthy offense?”

“No..” Tae glanced over the page. Who knew exactly what he was reading in the blocks of text on both pages. “--Highlighting the pages, that’s the real disrespect.”

You’d never considered doing that to a book you owned and it was a cardinal sin in the world of library patronage. He went back to studying the page briefly, then carefully closed the book and laid it on the bed, within reach.

“Y/n.”

A deliberate pause after your name left his lips. Like he was waiting and it worked.

You fidgeted with your sleeve. “Yes?”

“Come sit with me? I want to talk a little.”

“Yeah?” About what, you couldn’t imagine, but there was hope deep underneath the shock fissuring your sanity.

He patted the neatly done bedspread and you shuffled closer, then lowered. This was your space and property, so why did you feel so immobilized? Tae’s instructions seemed to be some blessing. Some..permission you needed. You boggled.

“There..” As the bed sank subtly under your backside, Tae’s hand returned to his thigh and rested.

His tongue glided over both lips. Quick, but effective enough to make your thighs flex. Your hands, previously limp on your lap, went to your thighs, condensing into fists.

“That word.” He began. His pointer finger followed the neatly done embroidered pattern running the bedspread as it meandered closer. “..Does it mean something to you?”

“No. I was just curious about it.” The lying was harder than ever. Downplaying wasn’t your strong suit either.

“Hmmm.” He was quiet again.

“Have you ever heard of it?” You probed. It would send you into orbit to think Tae could know. That he understood the concept of kinks and had any. To find out he followed any newly found ones to a natural conclusion where they became part of his collection.

It was a lesson in fuck around and find out when Tae nodded.

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Nails sank into your palm.Blood rushed to your temples from between your legs. Of course. As if it had always made sense–he wasn’t afraid to read. A job at a library usually didn’t suit a student without the tolerance or interest to learn. That always led to discovery and contemplation. A Yes was the more than likely result, but hearing it from Tae was something truly special.

“What do you think of it?”

“The word?” Your brows pinched in confusion.

“The meaning.” Tae clarified with a warm grin. “Is that something you’re interested in?”

God what is happening right now? This moment was falling right into your lap. This whole NIGHT was like a missing puzzle piece in your life. Even with all those dreams and fantasies, you weren’t quite prepared for this night. This reality. But there wasn’t a way back, only going forward with the natural flow you felt pulling at your entire body and soul. And it was taking your right to Tae.

“Apparently..”

He seemed keen to suss out why. You didn’t blame him, having put a giant arrow right there essentially. In that book for him to see. He probably could tell you were the type who didn’t give time to things you weren’t truly interested in.

“Oh?” Tae leaned closer and the bed dipped more. “You get turned on by sound?”

You couldn’t look, turn away, or barely breathe. The pressure condensing inside your pelvis was pulling everything to it with the intensity of a blackhole.

“Basically.” Your eyes were barely open as Tae’s nose brushed your cheek. His breath warmed the trail of his touch.

“Is there a particular sound that does it for you?”

“Yes.” Time to lean into the experience. Just abandon all pretense of concern that he’d judge. Nothing about his questions right now were needling or picking your apart in any way.

Tae’s lips quirked. “Tell me. I’m curious.”

He’d be waiting a while since you suddenly couldn’t admit it, even for all the times you’d dreamed of his very encouraging, handsy reaction to that detail. Your lips refused to respond but your thighs were a different story, clamping with a vice-like grip, then moved against each other when your hips shifted.

Tae’s stare bounced down, then came back up, both brows higher. He followed one corner of his lips with the tip of his tongue.

“Is it a sound someone makes?”

Still, you couldn’t force out a response, but it was clear Tae already knew. He’d found the trail and doggedly followed the clues woven through your reactions.

He inclined his head, lips pausing within a hair’s breadth of your own. “Is it a voice? Is it…my voice?”

Tae had to be playing with you, or be devilishly smart. It was hard to know which. Clearly he could read people, as many as he encountered working on campus and attending classes. It couldn’t be clearer. Whatever his major, Tae’s observation skills were top tier. Skills like that, he could have been truly evil, but there was nothing in his energy that gave a sniff of evil.

“Uh huh..” You weakly managed. “I..can’t help it.”

“...And that’s why I’ve seen you at the library so much?”

“You…s..saw me there?”

Tae huffed. You hardly knew what to say to begin explaining—not that it would help. The jig was up. It was reasonable to prepare for the reality that he’d call you delusional or creepy before he got up and left. And he’d be well within your right. At the very least, you’d be lucky not to have a stalking complaint lodged with student affairs.

Compared to Tae looking up your dorm number during work hours with college equipment, your weeks of casing his job routine, just to indulge what had become an obsessive kink, seemed more legally perilous.

You held a breath, eyes screwed shut while Tae went on.

“Of course. I watched every time you came in. At first I thought it was the same old thing. Assignments or cram sessions. But..eventually, I realized it was something else–the way you reacted to the announcements. Only mine. It wasn’t hard to figure out it was my voice.. That you like it.”

It was fruitless to pretend or do damage control.

The world slid a little when you nodded, listing right towards Tae’s warm body. And making contact. Instead of pushing you away, the heat of his longing sigh rolled across your chin .

“What should I say?”

Tae, offering his voice up for use right now, allowing you a custom experience. Something levels above the usual fantasy. The chance to trade figments in the mind for flesh and blood, at YOUR command? Seemed almost too much to accept how this whole night was just getting better and better.

“Say?” You gulped. “You don’t think it’s..creepy?”

“Y/n, if I thought that, do you think I’d be here?”

“Maybe not–”

“No. I wouldn’t be. I am right now. So…let’s explore this..thing you have for me.You DO find me attractive, don’t you? Or is it just my voice?” There was a tickling playfulness in his tone. You shuddered softly and Tae’s eyes wandered to your chest. It wasn’t much to see with this big sweatshirt on.

Which suddenly felt too hot. Your skin was going damp underneath as you inhaled, chest heaving.

“I do.” Your groaning reply brought a boxy smile out on Tae’s face.

“So..” His voice dipped to that velvety deep rumble that your mind ran wild with during ‘self love’ sessions. Involuntarily your belly tightened. “Use it. Use me, Y/n. What can I do for you?”

“God..” You whined, helpless as your head dropped back, right into Tae’s palm. Like he’d anticipated, ready to guide you flat out on the bed. As you sprawled out, Tae leaned over, gazing into your eyes as they opened finally.

Running his thumb over your lower lip, Tae took a bite of his own.

“Don’t be shy. You’ve had at least a whole week’s indulgence. I’m flattered.” His voice dipped to nearly a purr, adding “...Now I want to see this little kink in action.”

His thumb prodded the warm, plump skin of your lips in exploration. A minute later, moving south to draw an invisible line between your breasts. At the waist of your sleep shorts he stopped, tickling the elastic waistband sitting below your abdomen.

Your hips undulated up, then your ass met the bed. Far and away, no fantasy had prepared you for this moment. No matter HOW often you’d clearly walked this kind of scene through.

Tae’s lids lowered further. “Or I can just talk to you, if you want, Y/n.” This option proved much more tempting. “Since I know you love my voice.”

You couldn’t scrape together words of reply, only nodding. A quiet laugh spilled over your neck when Tae leaned in and brushed his lips along your earlobe. Every exhale feathering your skin sent found ways to more than a few erogenous zones on your body–some you didn’t know until this very moment.

“P..please.” You finally whispered. Thank goodness Tae asked because this wasn’t something you’d ever be able to ask for out loud. You had enough to deal with right now, finding he was as you’d dreamed, and more than that only hours ago.

You needed that push, and he didn’t hesitate. Tae already had the reins as someone bolder than you, freeing intimate moments you’d tucked deep into your brain. The kind that only saw the light of day behind a safely locked dorm room door.

More fingers slid down your arm, to the sweatshirt sleeve, then circled your wrist and lifted that hand, bringing it to your belly. He laid that hand palm down, just above your mound, then dragged the back of a few nails along each knuckle. Slow. Deliberate. Unbelievably delicate.

“I want to see what you’ll do. What my voice inspires. You can give me that much, right?”

Another nod, then your head met the cool sheets, your senses drowning in a blending scents: detergent and the cloying sweet of Tae’s skin. Somehow, someway, he was already inside you, in some way–beyond your mind. You drew him deeper with a full breath.

When one leg drew up and the knee bent, Tae shifted around it, his thigh bracing your shin. Tae’s lips parted and breath shuddered through the space as he slid fingers under the waist of the shorts and brought them down an inch, then did it again. As he pushed the shorts down over your knees, heat rolled off bare skin. on escape made your skin prickle.

He wasn’t even properly touching you and every nerve was already blown wide open, ready to send every single sensation right to your head.

“There..” He murmured with another smile. His hand laid across your belly, then he curled the fingers curled under the sweatshirt hem and pushed it up just under your breasts.

Tae wasn’t hiding the curiosity in his eyes–he WANTED to see. If he read well enough, your body was talking too as your torso shifted and writhed. Need was crawling up from your thighs like a thousand snakes under your skin.

“What is it you think about, Y/n? You think about me kissing you? I like kissing. Especially lips like yours.” He made that act of pondering such a sultry thing. Normally you found it harmless and clinical.

Feeling suddenly heavy, your eyes rolled back. That was fine too, since it was much easier that way. You’d already dined well on sight alone and Tae's face floated readily in the blackness.

He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. You let a finger slip down, plunging through the slick folds at the apex of both thighs.

A bare forearm slid against your sleeve. “How often do you come home and do this---touch yourself while thinking about me?”

Tae’s fingers slipped over top of yours and cupped the back of your hand. Like you, his finger went to the second knuckle and for a moment you both stilled. Just you and Tae, trading squeaks and gasps. You rippled around the fingers as the temperature between your breasts climbed.

“You’re so wet. God.. Was this all from hearing me? Go deeper, Y/n. Show me what you wanted and how to open you up..”

The second leg retracted, then you rolled a bit more towards the silky plane of his palm. With you, his finger plunged deeper, then a pressure circle your folds clinging around him. He was flexing and bending a second finger so perfectly. How dexterous and flexible he’d need to be to do it.

A fist tightened and you pushed firm into the mattress.

For all the changes inside you right now, there was no hurry, on Tae’s part. Like the late hour or his location on campus didn’t matter. Especially when his body elongated next to you, pressure aligning your side.

This twin mattress was normally miserable for just you. Now it seemed just right. He made a limited space feel so open and unending. But even more: he was making your insides feel smaller. Tighter. Wetter.

I’m not weak. I’m taking this chance. He said he wanted me to show him. You wanted to open up so much more and give him an idea of what you experienced calling him to mind, over and over.

“I haven’t really used my fingers much, if I’m honest.” Tae grinned into your shoulder, then nibbled. Kissed and sucked the skin, lips popping.

You shook from breasts to thighs and they widened. No shame, unconcerned. Nothing but pleasure spilled through you as more of his finger moved inside. Stretching like this was a cake walk with so much slippery fluid all over. And it was all you.

A spastic clench washed through when Tae kissed your neck then moved to your ear. His teeth sunk against your earlobe. “You’re so tight. ..Virgin? …Or is it me? Keep going… Move your finger. Play for me.”

It was how heavy those last 3 words felt that snapped your thighs together. Trapped your entwined fingers. Tae was silent when pulled away, then burrowed into your neck.

Finally his finger matched your depth, then moved backwards and cycled forward again.

“Like this? That’s it…don’t stop..” Tae teased through gritted teeth. You knew that breathing, having done it so much deep in the throes of masturbating. Like he knew just how to echo what you hungry mind wanted most: the combined sounds of fucking. Fucking with you. You, fucking Tae. The pace of breathing came naturally as you melted into a groove.

Whether it was the fingering or the sexy thoughts, the pace built. His finger wiggled and he pumped it steadily, building a web of glistening ropes between more fingers. A few strokes later and he started to prod inside you.

The currents of pleasure rode your spine, bringing your breasts up. Tae laid his chest against your as bowed back. It was just right to pin you in place. His hand cupped yours so tenderly, but with that hint of a squeeze. Like he owned your hand. Ready to use it in conjunction with his own to do whatever he wanted. And whatever THAT was, you’d do.

What crime was it to want to go along with this?

“Where..is it—” He crooned. Pressure swept along your front wall and your whole body convulse. A shimmer flooded through you. Tae chuckled. Pressure crossed the same spot, going the other way.

“There.. That’s perfect. You feel that too? Let’s have some fun with this together. It’ll be even better next time.” You barely heard anything when Tae massaged harder into that spot. You gasped through the heat and slick that was rushing to your pussy.

Your whole body went stiff. So many signals in your brain wound together, snapping and rejoining haphazardly. The sweatshirt tightened across your chest, grazing your perking nipples. Tae grunted as he rutted against your hip. There was no mistaking how hard that cock was as it pressed tight and gyrated.

He felt long. And Tae had a nice width. His cock would easily hit right where he was massaging and even deeper. You were human. Healthy and full of hormones, all rushing you towards the pinnacle of wants: his cock, stabbing into you. Stroking deep. Stamping that spot, relentlessly. Hard enough to drive right through your high. A train roaring into the dark of a tunnel on a race to the other side.

And it sent you over the edge. The orgasm was massive and much needed. So much had stored up from thinking this long about Tae. Storing so much unquenched thirst and desire in the limited space was breaking every shy speck inside you. In a blink you snapped. Floodgates inside flung wide with your guttural moan. The first contraction was so hard the faintest trickle ran out around the fingers.

“Fuck…Jesus baby.. You’re running down the back of my fucking hand..” Tae didn’t stop, working you through with more thrusting, as flow diminished but contractions increased. He flexed his finger beyond your reach, to the last knuckle, far beyond where you’d started.

Tae tugged a few times and it wasn’t gentle, but there was no pain. Only thrumming, horny shock. Only warmth to the fingertips as your womb churned towards another high. Just at the end of cumming a second time, you noticed the damp warmth under your ass. No guessing what it was or who’d done it.

Coming back to your senses finally, Tae’s face came into view. It didn’t matter how long he’d been over you like this, a dozy smile on full display with cheeks a little more red. But of course he looked good.

There were bigger concerns in life but you were floating too far from them to recall a single one. Really there wasn’t much you’d really mind right now.

Around you the room took shape again. The shadows darkened spots beyond where the limited lighting reached. Familiarity sharpened too. Here you were, back on earth. In your twin bed. 2nd floor, room 215.

His fingers still deep inside,Tae’s nose grazed your cheek. His mouth sank against the roundest part just below your eye. He pinched skin in a faint kiss, then he spoke, lips still flush to your skin.

“You could find out...” You giggled, the sound creaking as your throat and neck flexed. Maybe you really were levitating. Maybe not. It would be well deserved from Tae. A huge payout for taking quite a gamble.

“You’re still pulsing..” He observed, making you do it again just by mention, and all too quickly. Apparently tonight you didn’t require down time, which was a nice change.

“Could I? Are you the type to fuck on first dates?” ANYONE else had said that,and they’d find a red, stinging cheek or a pair of aching balls. But Tae was setting you free, instead of shutting you down.

“Would that be bad?” You didn’t think of yourself as the type, but you didn’t imagine you’d do what you’d done for weeks over man’s voice. More than just his voice. Everything about him is on my list. He IS the list.

On the heels of a flirty smile, Tae’s lips thinned. “Not at all, but that will mean we need to go on a date first.”

“...Minor detail. I didn’t know if you were single.” …In spite of everything else you’d suddenly learned, or gathered previously.

“..You don’t date?”

“It just hasn’t been a thing.” Tae’s finger was out now. He grasped your wrist and brought your finger to his lips. Without a blink, he sucked it deep between his lips, then swallowed. Tae was beyond both sexy and hot as he licked that finger clean after. Like it wasn’t enough or he just wanted every last molecule of flavor. Every trace of your taste.

That was disappointment waiting in the wings. That was reality. All you wanted was to avoid it for just a bit longer. Stay cocooned in strong, firm warmth, like you found with Tae shifting closer. More contact points between you and him.

Tae’s track record was stellar. First meeting, this man had fulfilled so much of the fantasy, with fuel to spare. Being so skilled with his fingers and voice, you didn’t want to think about what it would do when his cock was buried deep inside you.

His stare hinted he might have been pondering the same thing, but he offered a coy gaze. You were quickly to terms with how hot the room had really been, even exposed so much. You groped for the sweatshirt finding the material felt heavier, smothering your previously content shape. The garment was bulky for your taste. It needed to be gone, soon.

“I never said a thing about my dating life, but I’m available. Can you say the same, Y/n?” Neither his lips nor his brows changed shape. Tae was serious. In keeping with the trend, he looked hot like that too.

It wasn’t like you’d been saving yourself for anyone. Only in the last few weeks you realized: the waiting had been for Tae, albeit unknown. His mystery held you captive. Thinking you knew someone you didn’t know, beyond what you could grasp onto: the way he sounded. There was no way Tae wouldn’t match his looks with the quality of his voice. Finding out tonight brought you full circle to a realization that you WERE available,because you’d been saving yourself for him.

You grinned. “Yes. Available is a good way to describe it. I guess you could say we can temporarily check each other out—like a library book.”

A fling with Tae was most likely temporary and you were prepared to accept that. If it turned to something with more permeance, you’d be pleasantly surprised. With clarity came sense and reason. Beyond that there wasn’t energy for concern.

Tae took a moment to process your attempt at humor, then let out an easy chuckle. “It sounds like a match to me.” He straightened to tug the sweatshirt higher as your arms went up. It was pure relief with the shirt peeled away from your body. Tae managed to land the garment over the back of your computer chair.

Good eye. Good calculation skills. What else is he waiting to flaunt?

You took turns extending each leg for Tae to bring them to your ankles. He flung it away with less than a glance back, then he stood, taking your stare with him.

“Are you..going?” You laid back into your elbows. The effort was Herculean, holding the pose as you tried to keep panic and concern off your face. Tae could go.

He hadn’t exactly stated his plan was anything more than returning your forgotten book.

“Do you want me to? Hadn’t planned it. Do you have a curfew?”

“No..” You quickly replied.Tae hesitated, then a brow lifted. A few seconds passed, then he began pulling his shirt off too, less gentle and more efficient, dropping it right off the side of the bed he was closer to. His hand returned to find your hip and rest there. Just this touch, this light pressure from the pads of his fingers, you were aching through your core.

Tae made himself comfortable, scooting himself closer into the new space you made by shifting away from him. He pushed the book up towards your pillows, then arranged his body out beside you even, stretched more comfortably.

“Good. Neither do I.” He whispered.

“I want you to stay.” You stared at the base of his throat and lines of muscle running up from there. He was all long, graceful parts.

His eyes narrowed as he produced another warm smile that was hell of a lot like the one you’d first seen at the library desk, sans the internal conflict and panic.

“I wouldn’t object at all.” To say the least.

If fate saw fit to bring Tae to you, let your admittance and bravery not get him taken away. You shouldn’t get hooked on him. One moment…one experience at a time.

“I think that’s doable, for a little bit longer. We can read a little more from your book. Heard it’s a spicy read.”

“Oh?” Your eyes found a corner of the book cover peeking out from under the pale corner of a pillow at the headboard.

“..You…read it before?” Something passed through his eyes but Tae did his best to shrug his upward facing shoulder, reclined on his side facing you.

“Skimmed it.”

“Yeah? Cool.” You exhaled and hoping it didn't sound as much like a moan to Tae as it did to you. More time was needed to reveal how truthful he was. How accurate his statement was, based on what he’d presented. Although you didn't judge someone for their reading preferences, you wouldn’t have guessed Tae had skimmed beyond the inside cover, where he'd stamped the due date.

Tae traced your chin and walked fingertips across your lips again until he was leaning across the space to cup your cheek.

“I think I should read it to you. Since you react so well to my voice. What do you think?”

Feeling far too spun out and pleasure drunk, you nodded. When one gets an offer like this, one shouldn’t pass up. His idea deserved your wholehearted support, since it was entirely and generously tailored for you.

“Sounds good.” If Tae wanted, he could read you the phone book and it’d get the job done.

This whole ‘aural’ fetish was a thing you were grateful for, even more because you knew now: Tae was into it too. Even if it was from the other side. Perhaps there were sounds YOU could make that would have such a hold over him.

Laying back into the bed, the cool sheets worked to dull the lingering heat from your skin. Tonight you didn’t have to stare at the ceiling and imagine his face. Instead, your eyes went to Tae next to you, fully drinking in his face and energy. Enough to carry you whenever he’d leave–tonight or tomorrow.

Not like you’d never see him again. You knew that more than you knew anything else.

Tae relaxed onto his back and trained a glossy pair of eyes on your shape, eyes running your body shape against the dim light behind you. He finally spoke again.

“Grab the book. Pick a chapter and let me hear you. We’ve got a lot of exploration to do.”

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