#you have to imagine that after the “as far as he knew love was-” there's a session of short flashbacks of what Toji admitted feeling

[heavyhitterheaux]

Wifey Shiesty (Slight NSFW)

See Me Through You Series

Synopsis: After giving her husband a much needed pep talk, we get Wifey's version of mic'd up during the Bengals vs. Broncos game

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: @mirrorballgirlie25 and an anon 💕

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Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

The level of excitement that you had when you woke up around eleven in the morning was unmatched as you sat up against the headboard for confirmation.

One of the few days that you didn't have any morning sickness.

It was evident that Joe was already awake seeing as he wasn't lying next to you and could faintly hear the shower running in the bathroom signaling that he was getting ready to head to Paycor to take on the Denver Broncos.

There was a lot riding on this game, but you had done your usual routine with making his favorite foods and giving him pep talks. Joe's bag that he would be carrying when he left was sitting on the bed and you quickly pulled out your stationary set and wrote a small note to stick in there.

You got this, Shiesty.

I love you,

Wifey

You did this before every game whether it was at home or away and Joe kept every single one and had it organized by season.

You would usually also get up early and go into the bathroom and also write notes for him on the mirror so that way he would also wake up and see them.

When you were finished, you closed his bag and was caught off guard by arms wrapping around you and a kiss being placed on your cheek.

“Good morning Mr. Shiesty.” You told him as you turned around to properly hug him.

“Good morning baby girl. No morning sickness? Did my baby actually get to sleep? I didn't hear you get up at all.”

“I actually slept for once so hopefully I'll have energy for the game.” You replied as he then leaned down to kiss you.

Joe let out a deep sigh and you immediately knew what to do.

“Okay, baby. We got this. I know how important this game is and that we want to make the playoffs, but just get through each quarter and take your time. Either way it goes today, I am so fucking proud of you. This has truly been your best season and you keep silencing the people who hate on you every single time. Like breaking records and breaking some of your own too? You were drafted number one for a reason. Now go out there today and show them why. I love you and as promised I will be in your suite cheering you on.”

The smile that broke out on Joe’s face was huge as he leaned down to kiss you once more in response.

“I just… it’s so much pressure on my shoulders. But at the same time it is what it is.”

“Baby, you’re the quarterback if you didn’t realize it until just now.” You joked with him and he let out a small laugh.

“I hadn’t noticed and I love you too. Thank you for the pep talks that you always give me. It may not seem like a big deal, but it is.”

“Of course, my love. Always going to be in your corner rooting for you.”

“And the same goes for you, it’s just in a different way now.” Joe replied as he glanced down at your leg and saw the surgical scars staring back at him as he lightly ran his fingers over them.

He couldn't think about it for too long since it would make him upset, but every day, he woke up grateful that you were still here able to do life with him. He couldn't have imagined what happened if you weren't. Becoming a widow a few months after you get married was something that was constantly running through his thoughts when you had gotten hurt.

The pain was still evident even if you didn't talk about it much, not wanting to make your husband worry. He did enough of that when he thought he would be planning your funeral.

Being pregnant, the only thing that you were able to take for pain was tylenol and some days that just wasn’t cutting it. But the last thing you were about to do was risk the health of your twins.

“Is it bothering you today?”

“So far, so good.”

“Just remember to bring some medicine with you. Don't want you sitting there in pain.”

“I'll put some in my bag, promise.”

“Good, pack some heat packs too just in case.”

“Oh, and I have a little surprise. Ja’Marr actually came up with it so you can thank him for it.”

“And what’s that?” Joe asked as he was starting to get dressed.

“I’m going to be mic’d up during the game for me and Taylor’s podcast so do your best to not give your wife a panic attack or send her into labor because it is way too early.”

Joe threw his head back in laughter because he knew how you would get during the games.

“I’ll try my best, but no promises. I can’t wait to watch it later.”

“But for now, I'll go make you some food while you get ready.”

“No need, baby. I got up early and ate.” Joe told you and in response you made a face at him.

“Baby doll, your morning sickness has been horrible lately. I wanted you to sleep. I have the ability to make myself something to eat and not burn down the kitchen in the process. Give me credit where credit is due.”

“But I ALWAYS make you food on game days when you play at home and sometimes you have dessert and eat me out before you leave. It's our thing!”

“I know, but you can make us something later when we win and I can eat you out later. That can definitely be arranged.”

“Fine, I'm holding you to that.”

“Good, now give me kisses.” Joe told you as he was now sitting down on the bed and pulled you onto his lap.

You gave him a few kisses before kissing the side of his mouth and laying your head on his shoulder.

“You're lucky you just took a shower and need to get ready because I want to bite you so bad right now.”

“AHT AHT! Baby do not start, as much as I want to, I can't rearrange your guts all day.”

“But you can do it all night.” You replied while smirking as you picked your head up to look at him.

“See? This is why you're pregnant now.”

“Don't blame it on me, you had something to do with it too.” You scolded him as he kissed the tip of your nose.

Suddenly Joe’s phone went off and he turned around to grab it and saw it was Ja'Marr calling and quickly answered.

“Stop swapping spit with my sister and let's go.”

“Damn, good morning to you too uno.” Joe replied as he rolled his eyes.

“And how do you even know what I was doing?” Joe asked and even though he couldn't see him, he knew that he was rolling his eyes.

“Joe, don't piss me off before we even get in the locker room on this nice Saturday. Yall can’t keep your hands to yourself for thirty seconds. I'll be at your front door in 15 minutes. Bye.”

After Joe hung up all he did was toss his phone to the side before kissing you once more.

“See you at 4:30?”

“See you at 4:30.”

—

Arriving at Paycor, security quickly escorted you as well as Erin to Joe's suite where you would meet up with Jim and Robin. Robin had already sent a text letting you know that they had just gotten there and the only thing on your mind was food and watching Joe and your baby brother play.

The entire episode of you being mic'd up would be recorded on your phone and you would upload it after the game was over whether the Bengals walked away with a win or not.

Once you had gotten settled and got everything set up how you wanted it, you set your phone to record.

“Hello my Woman Cave listeners. Wifey Shiesty here and you’re in for a little treat today. As you can see, I'm in my husband's suite at the game with my in-laws, and my best friend Erin and you guys are getting my version of mic'd up! I did tell Joe prior to him leaving the house this morning and I told him to do his best not to give me a panic attack, so let's see how this goes.”

First quarter

“Okay, yall have to do better than this if we want a playoff spot. Because what are we even doing right now?”

–

“Did you really just get sacked twice in a row?! O-line protect my husband, please! It is LITERALLY YOUR JOB.”

–

“Uh oh baby brother is making faces. He's getting annoyed. I am too Bam Bam, I am too.”

–

“WHAT!? The first quarter can't be over already. We have literally done nothing.”

–

Second quarter

“Baby! What are….? I gave you a pep talk this morning and this is NOT how this was supposed to go.”

–

“The babies are hungry again. Erin, can you get me more mozzarella sticks? Cheese has been my main food group since I got pregnant.”

–

“AHHH TOUCHDOWN! YEAH TEE! I guess he didn't want his mom cussing him out again. She really let him have it.”

–

“Okay, we got something going, feeling a little better. Oh, are those buffalo wings? I needed those like 6 hours ago. I don't care about the heartburn that I'm about to have after. The babies are getting some spice today. I have tums in my purse.”

–

Third quarter

“And, we're back. The babies were playing kickball with my bladder. I'm definitely going to drink this lemonade though.”

–

“Ehh, okay we're kicking. Fine, that'll get us ten.”

–

“NO! HE CAUGHT IT! NOW IT'S TIED.”

–

“Okay, we still have time. We got this. Can I have a milkshake delivered to the stadium? I want one. Never mind. Joe will get me one on the way home.”

–

“Erin, did you see Joe’s and Ja'marr's outfits today? Like WHO ARE THESE DIVAS? But I picked out Joey's last night. I wanted to bite him before he left, but he told me no.”

–

Fourth quarter

“Tee again with the touchdown!”

–

“Damn it! It's tied again. I literally told Joe NOT to give me a panic attack or make my water break and it's clear and evident that he in fact did not listen.”

–

“Oh! Is he in!? IS HE IN!? My husband is the shit yall. Get it baby! TOUCHDOWN!”

–

“Wait a minute… is he…? Is he doing the griddy? See that's the black wife effect for you. And of course Ja'Marr co-signed it. He got more rhythm when he married me.”

–

“Okay, clock is winding down. We can do this. Not that much longer to go.”

–

“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!? Oops, babies don't repeat that. It's tied again!”

–

“Overtime it is. I need to pee again and I'm hungry. These children need to chill out with the food requests.”

–

Overtime

“Okay dad got me nachos. I'm okay now, we're back in business. Shoutout to Paycor. Yall have the good cheese.”

–

“I can't watch anymore and need to close my eyes.”

–

“Well that lasted for a total of thirty seconds.”

–

“OH! OKAY HE’S AT THE TWO! TEE'S AT THE TWO! Yall better not fuck this up.”

–

“HE GOT IT!”

–

“I'm happy we won, but I need to sit here for a minute before I go to the tunnel. Bottom line is put some respect on my husband's name. As of now he is literally the only person in the history of the NFL to have 250 pass yards but 3 pass touchdowns in 8 straight games. So unless you can do that, don't talk to me. And, I rest my case. Now it's time for my milkshake and to hug my husband and baby brother.”

When Joe spotted you in the tunnel, he was all smiles and quickly made his way over to you as he leaned down to kiss you.

“Proud of you, babe.” You told him as you reached up to pinch his cheek.

“Your pep talk definitely helped this morning. Just took us a minute to find our rhythm.” Joe replied as he started to play with the ends of your hair, something that he did more often than not.

“Speaking of rhythm, that griddy was too clean. You should have heard me and Erin yelling.” You told him and he couldn't help but to laugh.

“It's the black wife effect. Can't be around you and your family all the time and walk away with nothing.” He casually said as he shrugged and you busted out laughing.

“And just wait until you hear my mic'd up episode.”

“Please tell me you're kept it somewhat appropriate. I never know with you.”

“Well, babe, I didn't say anything about me turning you every way but loose once we leave here if that's what you mean.” You sweetly said while batting your eyelashes at him.

“I… I guess I'll take it then.”

“BIG SIS!” You heard Ja'Marr yell and quickly yelled back at him as he was running towards you.

“LIL BRO!”

Ja'Marr promptly picked you up and hugged you before setting your back down on your feet.

“You see your husband's griddy?” He asked and Joe simply smirked at the both of you.

“He just told me that it's the black wife effect.”

“I have to agree, this man has a grill now, seasons his food, still holding onto the pumpkin pie, but I'll let it slide today. Maybe one day he'll accept that it honestly tastes like sweet potato pie with low self-esteem.” He replied and you couldn't help but laugh.

“Bye Ja'Marr!”

“What!? Did I lie!?”

“No, but I need a milkshake babe. Go do your presser so I can get one on the way home.”

“I need another kiss before I do.” He told you as Ja'Marr made a gagging noise.

“Yall make me sick.”

“Then look away.” Joe told him as he leaned down to kiss you.

“You would think that it's been forty days and forty nights since the two of you saw each other last.”

“And we're ignoring you.”

–

“Fuck! That's it, pretty girl.” Joe whispered in your ear as he had wrapped his arms around you as you continued to ride him.

The ride home honestly felt like torture with you both trying to keep your hands off one another and forget the bedroom. The two of you barely made it through the front door as clothes were thrown off and left in a pile as you were now on the couch riding him.

The two of you learned pretty quickly that ever since you had gotten pregnant and you were now obviously showing since there wasn't just one in there, but two, the most comfortable positions for you were either riding him or laying down on your side and Joe was not complaining in the slightest.

However Joe was then abruptly confused when you had suddenly stopped and proceeded to swing your legs off of him and his protests were quickly heard.

“Babe, I was close. What the hell?” He asked as you had now spread his legs to make room and got down on your knees in front of him.

“Then how about you shut up and stop complaining? I got down here so you could face fuck me, but I will gladly get back up.”

“You're going to regret getting smart with me before the night is over.”

“Mm hmm, sure Burrow.” You responded as you rolled your eyes. You had done that on purpose because the adrenaline from winning the game mixed with him getting annoyed by your smart mouth would lead to him not showing you any mercy and that was exactly what you wanted.

Doing as he was told, Joe moved closer to the end of the couch as you took him in your mouth. Your hair kept ending up getting in the way, and he decided to help you as he put it into a makeshift ponytail which also led to him being able to have a better hold on you as he sped up his pace of him moving in and out of your mouth.

“You're doing such a good job, princess.”

A mix of sweat, tears, and drool was running down your face as he kept hitting the back of your throat. Your jaw was definitely sore, but you weren't quitting any time soon and was determined to see it all the way through until Joe got his release.

Being able to finally come up for air, Joe moved your head all the way back making you lose contact with him when he leaned forward to kiss you before sliding back into your mouth.

“Come on, baby. You gonna make me cum?” Joe asked as he finally released his hold on you.

Once he did, between the use of your mouth along with your hand it was only a matter of time.

You felt the first drop hit the back of your throat and was soon followed by a string of curse words from his mouth as you were trying to swallow the full load.

“You better swallow it. The entire thing.” He told you as he lightly tapped your cheek. It took you a minute but once you did, you also ran your finger along your cheek and chin to get what had dribbled out and sucked on your fingers.

“Good girl.”

Joe then picked you back up to sit in his lap and kissed you before turning to the side and laying down while taking you by your hips to move you up so you would be right above his face.

“I promised to eat you out, didn't I?” Joe asked you as he kissed all along your thighs.

“Yes.”

“Now stay still.”

--

Liked by joeyb_9, thewomancave, taylorrooks, lahjay10_, cincinattibengals, and 867,254 others

wifeyshiesty: the black wife effect lol now put some respect on my baby's name! so proud of you pookie!

My mic'd up episode will be released at midnight!

lahjay10_: I taught him that at the cookout. they grow up so fast. taylorrooks: I can't wait to hear the episode and talk about it! erinthegymnast: when he hit that griddy, me and wifey screamed so loud we're surprised they didn't hear us out on the field joeybfanatic: OMG not wifey being mic'd up lmao I absolutely love her on the woman cave so I'm excited for the unhinged shit that I know she's about to say joeyb_9: she's been unhinged since I met her, but I wouldn't have it any other way lahjay10_: joeyb_9 bruh I warned your ass and you still married her wifeyshiesty: lahjay10_ I know where you live (3 houses down) so get yourself together before I bust through your front door lahjay10_: wifeyshiesty if you can reach the handle to get in joeyb_9: pause, let me grab a snack to watch this go down joeburrowupdates: lmaooo not joe wanting his wife to beat her little brother's ass lahjay10_: she's all talk, she won't do anything joeyb_9: uh ja'marr she just put on her slides and grabbed her keys, I would make a run for it if I were you 👀

[renirae]

Tim Drake and stalking as a love language

I have this idea that Tim has been stalking people as a love language actually years before he ever discovered Robin's identity.

It started when he was six and his parents were visiting. Tim was already being taken care of by a live-in nanny, so he rarely saw his parents - even while in Gotham, they were still usually out of the house, going to galas and dining with important businessmen.

However, one night they actually did stay home, and Tim was so excited to finally spend a day with them before they flew out the next day!! ...Until he learned they were only home because they were having a dinner party.

Now, it was clear that Tim wasn't a part of the guest list; but Janet made the mistake of not telling Tim to go to his room. Instead, she specifically said "Timothy, I don't want to see you for the rest of the night".

Tim, of course, realized the loophole; they weren't allowed to see him, but he could watch them. And as long as he wasn't caught, he'd be following his parents' rules AND spending time with them before they left!

So before the dinner, he found somewhere to hide in the dining room, and he watched his parents the entire night. And it was great! They even talked about him to some of their guests, called him a "smart and independent young man". They'd never said that to Tim's face, but he glowed with pride from the compliment for days after. His strategy had worked perfectly.

For the next few visits he did the same thing. Every time his parents were home but didn't want to see him, he simply watched them instead. It was basically spending time together!

Eventually though, Tim grew older, and visitors to the mansion started to ask why their son was never a part of the dinners. But rather than adding Tim to the guest list, his parents simply stopped ever hosting events.

Tim at this point had already started stalking Batman and Robin, so he had a genius idea; he could follow his parents around Gotham to watch them too!

So yeah, this continued until Janet's death; whenever his parents came to Gotham and went to go, for example, meet a colleague in a restaurant, Tim would find a way to sneak in or otherwise watch over them. Obviously by this age he was now aware just how... not-normal this behaviour was, but it was also basically the only time he ever saw his parents interacting with each other without Tim around. And again, they even sometimes complimented him! He would never have known that if he hadn't kept watching them! So... yeah, no matter how creepy he knew it was, he couldn't convince himself to stop.

Of course, the canon stalking of Batman and Robin continued as well - after Robin switched hands, Tim even sometimes went to Bludhaven to stalk Nightwing around too, although those trips were much more few and far between given the necessary added amount of planning and travel.

That, of course, continued until Jason's death... and then Tim's mother and later his father died too, so you'd think Tim would have nobody else to stalk, right?

...Well, old habits die hard.

Even after getting friends and family, Tim couldn't quite stop himself from stalking them. Perhaps it was because his parents always got annoyed when Tim tried to spend time with them, so he grew paranoid that his new friends and family were the same way - if he was too clingy, they would stop wanting to spend time with him. So if he wanted to see a certain family member but he'd spent time with them too recently, he ended up just hiding and watching them instead. Just like with his parents, he could spend time around them without them getting annoyed at him. It was a win-win!

(Of course, he now lived with a bunch of other stalkers (even if most of them did it for vigilantism reasons and not to their actual friends and family like Tim did), so this couldn't last forever. I imagine they slowly caught on, one by one, and once the entire family was aware they all worked together to stage an intervention.

And since I refuse to write unhappy endings - during the intervention, it takes some prodding, but Tim finally opens up. He tells them about his parents, and admits he stalks people because he's worried he'll be seen as clingy like they did. And after many many reassurances that his parents were wrong and everyone loves him the way he is, they all hug him and have a movie night or something and it's happily ever after :))

[ab4eva]

‘The Three of Us: ‘Tis The Damn Season’

Fully co-authored with mon petite chou @therealslimshakespeare 🩷 (& all credit to her for this gorgeous new moodboard!)

Notes: Happy new year babes! Our endless thanks and appreciation to all of you who have kept the love for these three alive with screams and reads and notes and who have inspired us to churn out some of the horniest shit imaginable. We hope you love this installment and please come and scream to us about it.

Warnings: All the sex, 18+ only

Word count: 8k

The Three of Us

The Three of Us: Brat Behavior

-

The past few months have been grand but far too busy. Or at least for Austin, workaholic that he is. You knew that he was dedicated and in a very crucial stage of establishing himself as one of the most respected and in demand actors of his generation but, the fact of it is, the holidays find you about as worrisomely detached from his hectic set-life as Callum is from the both of you an ocean away. There is FaceTime and the group chat and gifts sent back and forth and avid interest for each other’s success and fits of glumness, but the long stretch between last time all together has begun to wear, it’s a melancholy sort of missing of both of them and you long for the closeness. The easy way everything is so right when together.

Your mother and your girl friends are making proclamations these days, general platitudes about how a man who was serious about you would make this something more official after a year and a half of “casual” dating. And they’re right, if that’s what was still happening. To be fair, dating doesn’t seem to be what you’re doing anymore, you and Austin are so far beyond that despite the recent distance and added to it, Callum is as solidly a part of that seriousness that your head spins with what sort of talk is even needed to solidify something so utterly unorthodox and yet so crucial for your world to make sense. No one can know, not beyond the occasional snicker over espresso martinis about “the boys” and double innuendos about sharing that you can always laugh off in the sobriety of the morning after.

In this funk -which would be no funk at all if the ones you loved were simply near and life didn’t move too fast and work too slow- you find yourself in London in December. A work trip, but it’s left you feeling indulgent and more than a little mopey at the prospect of another fairy-light, snow-dusted, early December spent alone despite ostensibly being able to claim a boyfriend; and so you decide to stay over. You museum stroll, enjoy your favorite tea houses, explore the garden exhibitions, try your hand at photography on the various bridges. A text from Callum startles you out of your melancholy, asking if you “really came to London, stayed a few days, posted it on your Insta stories and ‘didn’t say shit’ to him about it.”

Chastened, and no longer deterred by the three avatar bubbles denoting each member of the group chat, you fire back apologies - a string of demure and pitiful emojis and inquiries as to how to make this slight better. There’s barely five seconds of typing ellipses before your sentence is read and responded to, Callum’s trademark eagerness coming through the phone so unequivocally that a wave of longing hits you out of nowhere and blooms bright in your chest.

Coffee and baguettes at Burhams, 4:00, Mumford and Sons playing at the Carlton at 7:00, so wear something sexy under the coat. But do bring a coat, it’s going to be frigid. He’ll schedule an uber if you give him your hotel address. And why the fuck aren’t you staying at his? See you tonight. Xx

To your credit, between the giddy smile on your face in anticipation of seeing him and the butterflies in your belly of having an evening that’ll finally match the jollity of everyone around your sad little self, you feel a tiny slither of doubt. You thumbs up his message, biting your lip in worry over how to reply, not that you don’t know what you want to say to him and how enthusiastically you intend to agree with his hijacking of your evening, but rather, an uneasy awareness of Austin’s presence in the chat. That very same presence that erases all the guilt of such a conversation, not that there should be any anyway, you’re all friends, but you find your fingers stall when you go to gush in approval of the plan as warmly as you intend.

Five whole minutes go by. Just your solitary and very unappreciative 👍 lingering there. It’s making it weird, you’re making it weird. This is how you’ve been all this season and you’re sick of it. Then another row of little dots appear, texting in progress. You hold your breath, melancholy and fond in expectation of Callum’s predictable ribbing over your moderation. But it’s under Austin’s name when the grey chat box slides into delivered. It’s simple, easy, a pink cheeks smile emoji at the end.

“Yeah, and wear tights with that coat, I know you. Tights can be sexy. Pneumonia isn’t ☺️.”

God you miss him. And it seems you’re going out with Callum tonight. You should overthink the pulsing bravery and excitement that takes over then, but you don’t. Because that’s a thing to be left behind with the loneliness at Christmastime when you’ve got people to love you.

-

“Look what the cat finally dragged in.” Callum’s familiar, husky drawl assaults you from behind and you can actually hear the smirk in his voice. You turn, a smile on your face that quickly fades when you see the wounded look of hurt in his eyes he’s desperately trying to hide with all of his casual bravado, and you realize all is not exactly forgiven yet. Lord, you’ve forgotten just how big he actually is. Has he always been this tall, this broad? Hands in his pockets now, he doesn’t immediately reach for you and your heart squeezes with the notion you’ve hurt him simply by being too in your feels about things lately. You should have called him the moment you landed and the guilt sits heavy as a stone in the pit of your stomach. This is Cal, your Cal! Not some random guy but your own lovely Englishman who means more to you and Austin than probably any other person on earth. Or close to it.

“Oh Cal…I…,” you falter, taking a deep breath and one step closer to him. You’re starting to shiver in this London chill and despite wearing tights like Austin told you to, you *also* wore something sexy (and short and not very warm at all), like Callum told you to. An arms length still separates you but you’re close enough now to feel the warmth radiating off his hulking form and you shiver again, crossing your arms over your body, as much for warmth as to fortify your strength. You’re half hoping he’ll jump in with his trademark ease, teasingly let you off the hook. Because how can you tell him all the reasons why you didn’t call. That he’s been on your mind day and night since you got here and you’ve been sleepwalking through London, half heartedly hoping to run into him at Camden Market or a museum or his favorite pub. And how can you tell him that you’re pretty sure you’re in love with him too, but how would that even work? It makes your brain hurt just thinking about it. What if he doesn’t feel the same? And Austin, oh god Austin, you love him so much it hurts and what would he think about it all? These cloudy thoughts swirl and clamor in your head, begging to be let out. But all you can do is stare at the grown man in front of you who looks for all the world like a little lost puppy.

Callum just stands there, blue eyes cold and distant, looking just over your shoulder, refusing to look at you. The hell with this, you can’t take another second of whatever this is. You close the gap between you in a flash, catching him off guard with your near tackle hug. He stumbles backwards with a little “oof” breathed out somewhere above your head as you snake your arms around his middle, laying your cheek on that big, broad chest. Warm, he’s so deliciously warm and you take a deep breath for the first time all day, maybe for the first time all month. He smells just like you remember - warm vanilla spice and cigarette smoke. He stiffens for a moment, hands still balled into fists in that damn jacket pocket.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, squeezing him tight as you feel a pinch in your nose and the pinprick of tears threatening to fall. No, that won’t do, Cal’s the injured party here, so you sniff discreetly and snuggle closer into him, shivering again. That does it, he’s too much of a gentleman to leave you in the cold for too long. You hear him sigh, and his arms wrap around you at long last, chin coming down to rest on the top of your head, and his body relaxes into yours. “I’m so sorry.”

“Just…never do that again, alright? If you’re in town, you call…fucks sake. Got it?” His voice is rough with emotion and you can tell there’s more he wants to say, questions left unanswered but you can both leave those for another time. You nod, still glued to him like a sexy starfish.

“Promise.” A simple word, falling from your lips. But you mean it. He grabs your coat from the back and hauls you away from him, the better to look you in the eyes for the first time in months. Fixing you with an intense, searching look he seems to find whatever he’s looking for in your eyes because he nods, once. He knows this is a promise you’ll keep.

-

It’s with relief you notice his smile gets crinklier the more tipsy you become as the night progresses. You cling to his arm for stability while unabashedly sipping down the remains of your fifth gin and tonic with what you hope is endearing gusto. His smile stays, it’s a good sign. You know Callum dislikes stilted companionship more than anything, and if you’ve become a little messy in your attempt to shake off the awkwardness -well, he’s taken it in stride, it’s better than your seasonal blues, your clinging is preferred to your previous neglect. His arm is so large and his hand so huge, you lean against him like a child tired out at a carnival and watch the dwindling order of the party swirl into chaos around you, his leather jacket sticky against your cheek, your little back corner a place of observation after hours spent in the throng, bopping to the beat with the best of them. It’s dizzying and bright looking on it now, your heels feel like they’re wobbling beneath your unmoving feet and it makes you drop your gaze downwards.

Cal is wearing slacks. Pinstripe slacks. The inseams of which are god’s strongest little soldiers. How is the thread not ripping? What’s he so big for? You miss the feeling of them crushing your cheeks, muffling your ears, jumping under your hands.

“Jesus babe,” he interrupts your train of thought, sounding like he’s getting fallacio at that very moment.

“What?” You lift your puzzled face from the crook of his arm and search his own very near, very flushed, very hungry face. Oh, maybe you’d said some of that aloud.

“Babe, you’re fookin’ sloshed.” He isn’t gentlemanly enough to call it tipsy, or maybe you’re way past tipsy. You try to punch his arm but merely end up slipping further into him, holding onto his waist with both hands, tonic glass caught by his reflexes somewhere along the way.

“Thanks’ou,” you mutter, smelling cologne and sweat and feeling the bulky barrel chest beneath your fingers, well and truly as solid and sweet as it was with his first hug this afternoon, “I feel good.” You realize it’s been such a while since you could say that.

His wry smile softens and it creases under his chin as he stares down at you, you feel fingers under your chin, the gesture making your eyes flutter closed. “Good.” His voice is so deep you think you feel it down to the soles of your feet. “Better get you home and tuck you in ‘fore the carriage turns back into a pumpkin.”

You pout, feeling like melting into him, quite sure you’re not physically capable of doing anything under your own steam, not wanting to, in fact wanting very much to let yourself be pampered, be a little spoiled.

So you pout.

“God,” you hear him mutter, he sounds like his voice is coming from the pits, he sounds drunk, he sounds turned on.

“You sloshed too?” You are obscenely hopeful and your hand proves it by sliding down his middle, intent on finding pinstripes and tracing them too.

“I- maybe- maybe more than I thou- holy shit babe, just hold on…I’m gonna get us a cab.”

You’re in public, being indecent. With a man who is not your publicized boyfriend. It strikes you as a delightful change of pace and nothing more. Your bubbly enjoyment of it is only further punctuated by the charming feeling of being lifted in the air and bodily carried through the miasma of tables in the raucous little venue, princess style in Cal’s big arms, out into the little flurries swirling in the late London air. You later assume a large man in an expensive jacket holding a pissed drunk girl wearing a skimpy sequined two piece cradled in his arms was probably perfect taxi bait on that sidewalk. You don’t really recall the wait, just the blast of cold and the feeling of being carried and the positively romantic swirl of lights and snowflakes above your topsy turvy vision, overshadowed by his big old nose.

You think you booped it.

You remember him almost banging your head on the tip of the taxi door as he stumbled in, the way it made you realize he too was sloshed. The way you spilled out onto the seat, giggling, and he had to pick up your legs to slide in beside you. The way he’d not bothered to buckle and simply gave out his address with a tacked on “thanks mate” before proceeding to desecrate the cabbies back seat with the foggiest kiss a London fare had ever witnessed.

Tongue in, mouth wide and devouring, hands in your hair. You were undone by it instantly, the forgiveness and the essential element of being missed; the slight edge of frustration that worked its way into each clack of your teeth and tilt of his jaw. You were being smothered to death in that backseat and you craved it, clung to him and kissed him back, exulted in being wanted and crushed. You felt his thighs under you own, so sturdy and warm, a flush of heat taking over at memories of what was between them, at the way he hurt you and had you coming back for more because he was so lovely about it. The way you couldn’t forget you’d been with him even days after; you needed that badly, a testament that you weren’t always lonely.

“Need you to make me feel it,” you slurred this sentiment aloud, fractured and too loud for decency, the feeling of the seat vibrating under your back and the lights of the city strobing through the droplet-specked windows. “Deep inside,” you insisted, obsessed with it.

“Gotta be quiet, now,” he begged with his forehead pressed to yours, face buzzing from the rough road, sounding gratifyingly hoarse, “almost there.”

Cal would likely tip the poor cabbie for your whining mouth.

“M’so’fucking horny,” you felt the need to impress upon him.

“No shit,” Cal mumbled against your mouth and you didn’t even have time to process the fact he slipped his hand inside your pantyhose until you felt the cold clinking of his watch against your lower belly, then the very electric touch of his finger between your sopping wet petals. He swirled them up and down your slit, once, twice, thrice, gathering a truly incriminating amount of slick. Then he stabbed in, entirely unlike his usual teasing and gentle build. He fucked in, two large fingers at once to the hilt and you let out a entirely involuntary little cry at the much desired and entirely unexpected relief.

“Fuuuuck,” you whined up at him, lips trembling and more than a little pathetic in your drunken state but you were being roughly finger fucked in the backseat of a cab after having been dismally celibate for over a month and it was really too much to expect from a girl not to curse over the happy burn of Callum Turner’s large fingers slamming home. “I can feel your stupid ring,” you managed, realizing it was the one he was always wearing, like some relic from another age, a signet ring sorta thing you’d teased him about. It kept bumping your clit, a cold metal shock, each time he slammed inside.

“You’re gushing.” He sounded like he was almost accusing you.

“Feels s’good,” you defended, about ready to come from this alone. “Been so closed up,” you pouted further, self pity in full bloom now you had a sympathetically horny ear. “Cal you gotta fuck me. You’re gonna fuck me, right? Please, Cally honey, please baby. Need to feel you deep.”

It’s all you can think of as you come on his fingers, the way he’s gonna ruin you if he takes you tonight. The way you’ll not have any room for blues or worries or anything, just being here in the present with the challenge of taking him all the way. It will consume you, turn you into a little cockslave with no schedules or requirements or holiday demands. You’ll have one job and it’s to let Callum bottom out where you can feel those plump and hairy balls against your ass and nothing more. You’d kill for it right now. You’d certainly let him finger fuck you in the back of the cab about it. Proved that already. Who’s acting too distant now? Now that your walls are clamped around his fingers like a vice, soaking his wrist with your orgasm, crying into the palm of his hand held right against your mouth.

“Fuckin’ mouth on you tonight, luv.” He sounds as strangled as you feel. “Whatever you want, whatever you want, baby girl. Beggin’ for my cock…missed me that bad, huh? I know you remember how to take me but it’s been a little while…sure you feel like having that pretty little pussy ruined tonight?”

Your eyes roll back again at his filthy goading. The truth is, it’s been too long and it’s always a challenge with him anyway. A sore point occasionally between the three of you but it is as it is, and your state of mind has you longing for an entirely preventable limp tomorrow.

“I’ll take it, I’ll be good,” you swear, grinding your hips up on his own, trying to feel the throbbing monster in question, impeded in your quest by the stupid pantyhose Austin wanted your wear. “All of you, I promise, won’t even make you go slow. Want you to break me.”

Cal tips the driver exorbitantly, after having wiped his sticky hand off on those pinstripes. The feeling of your wet warmth makes him so hungry to be inside you he forgets his basic maths. It doesn’t matter, he errs on the side of too generous and rolls himself out of the ride. He then pulls you out after him like you’re a bit of slinky play dough. You are recovered enough to walk you find, once your feet meet cement, and it’s something, it’s good enough to hold onto his hand and let him lead you up the four stairs leading to his brick townhouse with its wrought iron railing and navy blue door. You’ve never been inside, only seen pictures. The novelty is thrilling; Callum’s got the door swinging wide before the poor misused cab has even disappeared down the street.

There’s a pleasant foyer right inside, warmer in palette and decor than most renovated homes these days, with a polished wood floor and powder blue walls and a chandelier overhead, gold to match the giant gold mirror hanging above an antique side table holding the keys to what you assume is his car and a stray bag of dog treats fresh from Tesco. It’s instantly charming and intriguing, and so very like him that your heart melts in endearment. Then picks up in a shocked tempo when you feel his huge hands on your waist, pushing more than guiding you over the threshold. He spins you effortlessly and you’re bent bodily over the pretty antique side table before you can even help.

Horizontally you watch his hand, the one that had just been inside you minutes ago, swipe off the dog treats and the fancy little silver tray holding his keys. They clatter to the wood floor and you shake at the reminder he’s as keyed up as you are or worse, not having gotten relief in the cab like you did. You remember your stupidity, you raving and saying you wouldn’t make him go slow. Your mouth dries out and jitters pulse through you now, a war between sparkling arousal at every dominant action he takes and downright terror at your big, drunk mouth over promising your cock taking abilities.

He yanks your pantyhose down unceremoniously and you don’t move, not even when you hear the rip his impatience makes in them, you keep your flushed cheek to the cool wooden table top and try to even out your breathing, try to remember it’s Callum and it’s what you want and he’s gonna impale you bent over this table apparently, like a couple of insatiable sex addicts managing only to get to the first available surface. The sound of his belt shouldn’t make you full body shudder, not after all the times you two have been intimate in other places and other times, but right now everything else seems so quiet. Just two sets of lungs breathing in and out, and the distant hum of his fridge, the muted traffic outside, the grate of his zipper.

Your eyes flick up, remembering the mirror. He’s staring down in its reflection, not at your eyes but at your bare bottom, the sequined skirt puddled around your ankles. You feel his toe nudging at your instep and you spread your legs wider, tabletop digging into your lower belly as you lean forward more, arching your back, giving him a peak of the cleft between your legs.

The slap on your ass jolts your body forward more, your trembling hand reaching out to steady yourself, mussing up the mirror with your greasy print. “Arch it baby, that’s it, throw it back for me.” He presses on your lower back and you tilt as much as you can, feeling cold air hit your petals as Callum’s calloused hand kneads your ass cheek, crudely pulling you apart, thumbing at where you’re glittery and wet. His handspan is sobering. Your heart pounds in your ears louder than the band earlier tonight.

“Stay like tha’, just like tha’,” he commands. “M’gonna fuck the pout off ya.”

The sheer, blunt weight of him pointed up against your little hole feels utterly reckless when it happens. You stare at his face in the mirror and the glazed look of determination on his, the way he’s still staring at where he’s lined himself up, the animal in him fully in control, his tongue peeking out at the corner of his lips.

He doesn’t do you the courtesy of meeting your eyes when he slams inside, it’s just as well really. Your own screw shut as your mouth unhinges in a scream, raw and uncensored, feeling it fully and it’s as much as you remember and he didn’t go slow. And he doesn't even look at your face, not when you squint your tearful eyes open again to beg for reassurance; he’s staring down at where he split you apart, mesmerized and utterly smug. You feel yourself trembling, belly a raw ache immediately.

He’s too deep.

His belly is warm against your ass, curly trail of hair tickling with each heave of his breath. You try to shimmy away, further atop the side table, nose almost smudging the mirror. A warm and solid hand on the back of your neck yanks you back, back down on him fully, back on your feet: you hear your own sob like it belongs to someone else.

“Cal…” you try to beg your way into a dishonorable retreat but the hand stays strong and sure beneath your skull.

“Tell me ya missed me,” he demands, and you’re not sure if it’s what’s required to be let off his cock or for him to slam it home again.

It feels like true, broken, stupidly desperate begging when you comply, no game in it at all, “I did, I did.”

“Say it.” He puts you out of your suspense with a rough thrust and it knocks out your breath. “Say you missed me. Say it.”

���Missed you!” you wail, cheek smushed under the press of his hand.

“And you wa’me to fuck ya,” he insists, hips snapping fast now and you let out unstoppable little grunts of effort as your body accommodates him as best it can, “tell me, tell me, baby.”

In the mirror above you he looks pissed or hurt, probably has been all evening and now he can have this, you can make it better by this. It's such a hot thought. Earning his forgiveness this way. Genuinely a blow to the boss babe mentality wilting inside you, the way he fucks such flattery out of you, the way when cock dumb and bent over in his entry way, you mean it in perfect sincerity: “Missed you so bad Cal, missed the way you fuck me up.”

“I fuck you up?”

“Yes!”

“Only me? Only me, baby? Tell me-”

It’s on the tip of your tongue, it tastes as sincere as all the other jumbled admissions you’ve screamed out face to face with your own reflection here. Except this one isn’t true. And it hits like a bucket of ice water on your raging arousal.

Austin. Oh god, what about- Austin.

You freeze, blood running cold and croak out a meager “Stop!” Callum doesn’t listen, too caught up in the moment to hear and you say it again, louder, more forceful - “Callum! Stop!”

To his credit he does, immediately, concern flooding his pink, sweaty face. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Oh god, did I hurt you for real?” You hear the slight tinge of panic in his voice starting to escalate and the hand that had been pressing you into the table suddenly releases you and helps you struggle upright onto your elbows as you wince. No easy feat as you’re still impaled, and fluttering around him at that. He grunts a little but doesn’t make a move to disentangle you both…yet.

You meet his eyes in the mirror, his face still a jumble of concern and questions and yours suddenly ghostly white. “Austin,” you whisper brokenly, “we-. We forgot about Austin. Fuck. We didn’t even ask him if we could…oh my god, oh my GOD. What have we done?” Now it’s you who begins to panic, hot tears starting to gather in your eyes.

“Hey…shh, calm down, babe. Calm down. You’re totally right, we should have asked ‘im. Here, lemme just…” he trails off and you feel him struggling to reach his phone in the back pocket of his pants, which are still around his thick thighs as he didn’t even bother to pull them all the way down. He grins at you in the mirror, holding up his phone triumphantly. “We should call him.”

Before you can really hear or process that fully…

FaceTime screen. You flinch, realizing what an insanely compromising position you’re currently in, with Callum’s cock buried deep inside you just like you’d asked, no regard or thought for the man you’re currently in a relationship with. Austin doesn't answer - thank god. You’re so relieved. Then suddenly Callum’s talking behind you, voice text memo thingy… “Butler, wake up.”

“We got ourselves into a shituation of sorts and didn’t wanna leave ya out. It’s like eight a.m. there for fuck’s sake, wake up my balls are killin’ me, man.”

You better believe that Austin wakes up then. He’s very suggestible first thing in the morning to Cal’s sex voice. He’s heard it before, of course, but only as solo messages in the group chat. We was mentioned and Austin’s morning wood does the thinking for him when he sees a missed FaceTime call and punches redial. Laying on his belly, cock chafed on the sheets, outraged curiosity on his baby face, “WHAT THE FUCK, GUYS?!”

Calllum’s double chin in view, he’s red, sweaty, high ceiling visible. Austin’s less annoyed about whatever is going on and more about…he just woke up?! He planned on avocado toast and espresso and reading the morning paper in leisurely silence, maybe a warm shower with some self care. But what the actual fuck?

“I realize I’m taking liberties,” Cal starts huffing, sounding strangled and keeping you well out of sight, “but she looked so pretty and I missed you both, and we did get pretty drunk…please tell me I can keep going.”

Austin can’t seem to stop shaking his head and rubbing his sleepy eyes and repeating, “What the fuck?”

“Come on mate, let ya watch!” Cal wheedles, grin growing as Austin doesn’t verbalize any actual qualms. It’s not consent but anything less than a hard no from Austin means Callum can try to use his charm.

“We can talk about all this later, we really need to, actually but, uh, please, lemme.” He pauses, another grin splitting his face as pulls the phone closer to get a better look at the screen. “Fuck, you look so good all sleepy, bet your ass is out too, huh? Austin?”

“What the fuck, Callum? Just…lemme see her. Babe? You there?” You can hear Austin on the other end of the line, and with that, consent is assumed. You start babbling, trying to explain some shit as the phone comes in front of you, Cal’s massive hand obscuring you partly as he tries to prop it up on the mirror’s gilt frame. Austin’s rumpled, blonde bedhead and blue eyes swim into view and your heart skips a beat at the familiar sight. You can tell just by looking at him that he’s worked up, so horny already. You see your slightly horrified face reflected in the tiny screen in the corner, along with your bare ass and Callum clearly attached somewhere lower. He’s leaning over you, his cock stabbing deeper inside you, pressing you harder against the table and squeezing the last bit of your the breath out.

“…didn’t consider your feelings, baby, I’m so sorry if you’re not comfortable…OOOH FUCK CAL!” you gasp. You’re trying not to clench but you can’t help it and he keeps groaning and fucking into you in tiny little thrusts. You lose all thought, all ability to speak as Cal starts up again in earnest. Your face is so close to the camera and Austin can mainly see you - wincing, starting to cry as Cal pummels you from behind. Pretty soon he starts moving too, not even thinking about it. It’s just that the sheets are dragging so well, feeling so good. Watching his girl’s face as she takes his best friend’s cock. Poor you, eyes wide and mouth propped open in a perfect “o”, sweet face looking half-pained most of the time. The breathy way you say Austin’s name is almost pleading - you’re not sure if you want him to save you through the screen or absolve you.

“He too big for you, angel?” he asks without even thinking, eyes all consoling and compassionate. You manage a small whine, nodding as you bite your lip at a particularly hard thrust.

“He doesn’t take no’s well,” Austin reminds you in a sympathetic told ya so way.

“Damn right,” gets huffed in your ear. “He knows you’re a little slut, knows you were sayin’ “yes yes yes” a second ago. Isn’t that right, Butler? Yeah, look at him all sorry for you, he knows I won’t stop, it’s why he’s too chicken to let me try him, huh Aus? ‘Fraid it’d be too much?” You catch Callum’s self-satisfied smirk in the mirror. Austin mumbles a quiet “Shut up” but his eyes are drooping like he’s about to cum.

“Mm hmm, thought so, mate. Better be glad I’m not there right now or that tight little ass of yours would be wrecked,” Callum goads. Austin watches your face contort as you take him, half-imagining himself on the receiving end. It’s a subconscious combo of wanting to put himself in your place, knowing it would hurt for him and also to soothe his slightly-bruised ego that another cock isn’t even better, it’s too big in fact for you.

“Fuck baby, is it so deep? Does it hurt?” He sounds hopeful. “He’s too big isn’t he, awful big British man who doesn’t even know how to tease, my poor baby it hurts, yeah, I can see it hurts. You cry so pretty. You gotta be good though, you gotta take it, gotta keep our mate happy.” Austin licks his lips, sounding strangled, his wavering voice an octave lower than normal. “All the way in Cal, come on go all the way…ooh fuuuuck yeah, you gotta force it don’t you? She’s so tight, isn’t she…oh fuck, my poor baby, don’t stop now.”

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you Butler? What I’d feel like? You ok, bruv? Wishing this was you? Lookin’ a lil wistful on me, maybe it’s jus’the screen. Naughty…gonna have to shove your face into the pillow just to keep you quiet. I know how loud you can be when you come,” Cal grunts as he pounds into you, keeping his eyes firmly on Austin’s through the screen as he does. Austin starts to flip over onto his back, easier wring himself out that way.

“Ah ah ah, don’t touch yourself, pretty man, we both know you don’t need it - not with this, not with us. Want you to rub it out against the sheets, like the pretty little bitch you are.” Callum meets your stare in the mirror, his eyes glittering with mirth and lust.

That mischief is infectious, combined with Austin’s own almost salacious investment in your penetrated state- it gives you an idea. More like a need.

“Babe.” Austin’s gaze snaps back to your face at the sound of your voice, pupils dilated and lush mouth hanging open. “Be a good boy and open the bedside drawer…yes darling, that one. Grab my favorite vibe, the pink one. That’s it…mmm you’re such a good listener. Now…can you turn it on for me, baby? I want you to put it on your cock.” You watch as he obeys your every command, his forehead dropping to the bed when the vibrations reach their intended destination.

“Butler, move it down,” Cal calls him out on it, smirking and waiting to see if he actually will.

Austin doesn’t even argue, just grits out, “I don’t even have lube.” His sad bunny face reappears briefly as he lifts his head but he’s moving it down anyway, off screen.

“Yeah, neither do we, did we doll? Nah! -s’gonna hurt, Aus.” Callum says this last part, half goad and half encouragement. Austin feels so naughty doing it, even after everything. That's one threshold he hasn’t crossed yet. But for you? For both of you? To be part of the fun? He’d do just about anything you two asked of him.

“That’s it baby, be a good boy, don’t stop, don’t you dare stop, keep going,” you praise his timid but consistent efforts from five thousand miles and an ocean away. “Fuck Austin, you sound so pretty like that.”

You and Callum watch Austin through the tiny phone screen, shifting and coloring and so sure he’s not into it either but his throat is tightening and so are his balls….his whole lower belly is throbbing.

“Is this…fuck…is this how girls feel?” He doesn’t know but god it’s another thing entirely, now that you and Cal are begging and encouraging and swearing he’s got this.

He very much doesn’t “have” shit but…

…If his baby says he does, then he does. He lets out a hoarse scream, like he’s been struck by lightning and he’s too seized up to even get it out of himself if he wants to. Pretty face planted in the pillow, the phone tips over a little and you can see all his golden hair sticking up, a sliver of scalp. He beats the mattress with his fist, and Callum starts laughing inside you. You’re not sure if it’s funny or concerning. But you start laughing. Can't help it. It’s contagious. Callum almost slips out of you and has to grab your hips to stay firmly planted.

“You ok mate? ‘Oh fuck’ for bad or just ‘fuck’ for good. C’mon, talk to us Aus.” He’s still wheezing and laughing. He’s horrible. Austin knows Callum is watching him���it’s making him feel a million odd little things, all of them very dizzy and very warm.

“Oh fuck, no it feels better- worse- like this,” Austin manages through gritted teeth.

“Fix the phone baby, we wanna see you,” you say. When he does there’s a couple of tears leaking out of his eyes - from pleasure? Pain? Both? He’s not sure, but whatever it is makes you and Cal so turned on that things are suddenly not funny anymore in the least. An intense silence fills the room, only heavy breathing and a couple of whimpers can be heard as you all zero in on the same thing - chasing that blacked out sun and exploding stars. Watching y’all go at it distracts Austin just enough to get into it, in a good way, to get on top of that out of control feeling. But it makes him keep clenching down and he lets out a sort of wail, clamping a hand over his mouth - where the fuck did that sound come from? He’s never made that sound before in his life.

Cal starts babbling to you about how pretty he bets Austin looks, spread out on that big white bed, and for a moment Austin forgets you, too busy realizing Callum is watching him squirm from being stimulated in a way he never has been before. He almost loses it right then at the overheard praise.

“Bet his ass is all clenched up.”

“Think his back is sweaty yet?”

“Bet he’s leaking everywhere.”

“Are you really crying, Aus? Fuck, you look so damn sexy like that.”

Pathetic sad groaning, muffled from the pillows where he’s dropped his head again, Austin moans out, “Maybeeee -my assss, oh god. Oh no fuck…I’m gonna cum.”

The panic in his announcement is comical, considering the impending bliss. But it’s no laughing matter anymore, the building feeling deep in his gut, nowhere familiar at all and yet stronger than anything he’s ever known was possible. He thinks when the feeling crests he’s going to be shattered into a million pieces. He can’t quite breathe with the way it’s making him seize up, the little toy tucked inside with its vibrations making his whole body twitch and writhe at unexpected intervals ever more frequently. There’s a nasty puddle of precum under his chafed cock and Austin feels fresh tears of self pity gathering, ready to spill. He’s going to cum and it’s terrifying.

“Baby-you-look-,” your intended compliment gets punched out of you a lá staccato thanks to the bruising your cervix is taking as Callum quite loses his mind from the feel of your gripping walls and the sight of Austin getting off on the buzz of a pink girl-vibe tucked in his peachy little ass. “You-look-so-pretty,” you manage and watch as Austin flings his head up, looking strangled and with every vein in his neck pulsing wildly, and in tandem, it feels, with the beat of Callum’s heartbeat inside you, unless your all-encompassing horny has made you utterly delusional.

Austin cums silently, except for a choked off shriek of shock that heralded his arrival, his beautiful face contorting in exquisite agony, his own brutal pleasure so palpable through the screen it becomes a symbiosis of sorts in your own body and what has been a brutal, mind-numbing fuck for you so far now becomes the instrument of cutting your tether to earth and the next slam of Callum’s hips into yours sends you off, eyes glued to Austin’s bubblegum pink lips and a delighted scream echoing through the flat.

Spent, in the aftermath, you rest your head against the table once more, only the top of your head visible to the FaceTime video, and take what Callum is chasing in his vigor. You feel your recent wetness squelching and running down your thighs as he fucks you through the last of the pleasure and into that burning realm of too much.

“Cal- Callum, please, you gotta-.” It’s not your voice doing the begging though, your ears may be ringing so badly you can hear colors right now but it’s Austin, you’re sure of that. Austin, not you, begging Callum to cum, “-I can’t keep, I can’t stop I, please, please cum -I-”

He can’t stop clenching, cumming, awful little dribbles and spurts of semen milked out of his bobbing cock by each buzz of your vibrator that he’s either forgotten he can willfully remove or else can’t manage to because of how reactionary each shift of his body feels.

“Wan’me to cum? Wan’ me to fill you up?” Callum sounds winded as fuck, slurring and drunk and full-blooded Londoner.

You don’t even think to answer, even though it’s your body he’s using. Your body that’ll be filled up.

“Please,” Austin answers for you, sounding so whimpery you feel yourself shake apart again, a small and involuntary climax in direct correspondence with the audible stimulation from his pathetic state.

When Callum cums it’s so warm and much and plainly obvious, striping your inner walls and soothing the abused ache, that you feel half euphoric and half like a terrible defrauder that you’ve felt this and not Austin. It’s all you can manage though, fucked and wrecked and ruined as was promised on the packaging, you can’t do more than sag further on top the side table and relish the feeling of Callum’s cock beginning to soften inside you, allowing a little breach in the dam for a trickle of cum to drip out.

“Aus, take the fookin’ vibe out ‘fore ya pass out on us.”

Cal’s voice sounds so reassuringly commanding the last little bits of your frazzled self melt away with the dregs of arousal and you lift your head in time to watch Austin face plant for the tenth time while reaching behind himself to obey.

“There’s a good lad,” Callum teases in your ear and you shudder from the secondhand praise, shuddering too from the way Austin looks like a debauched cherub, naked and meek in a sea of white sheets illuminated by a clear New York morning, staring down at the little pink wand he’s just retrieved from his still tingly ass.

“Fuck,” he articulates with swollen lips.

“Show us the puddle, come on mate, ya must’ve milked out a pint goin’ on an’ on like that. Ya lil freak.”

Austin blushes under the coarse praise and shyly points the camera to the desecrated sheets. You hear yourself moan before you can bite it back.

“I wish I could lick it up,” you realize longingly, dazed and used, and maybe you are still drunk.

“Your mouth!”-Cal, “Your mind!” -Austin, comes out from both men simultaneously and it makes you realize you really should’ve been asleep ages ago. You hadn’t meant to say that bit out loud. You blush, actually blush, and after what you all just experienced you really shouldn’t have any embarrassment left. You start to giggle, quickly followed by the boys, until Callum is slipping free from your poor, abused pussy and guffawing until tears are leaking from his eyes and down his cheeks.

“Goddamn,” swears Austin, his giggles finally fizzing out. “You two will be the death of me. Hang up the phone and go to bed already. Call me when you wake up.”

“I love you, Austin.” You grab the phone and hold it close, memorizing every inch of his face in milliseconds, suddenly not wanting him to go. “I miss you, babe. So damn much.”

“Me too, sweetheart…I’ll see you soon, ok? And Cal?” He comes up behind you, wiping his eyes and leans over your shoulder to grin into the phone. “You bastard,” he teases. “Watch yourself, bud.”

“Oh, I’m really scared, mate. Fuck off and go eat your avocado toast, fancy man.” And with that, Callum hangs up the call and you both stumble blindly through his darkened house and into the bathroom for a quick and necessary shower. He tosses you a soft and worn gray t-shirt to sleep in and you’re off to dreamland almost as soon as your head hits the pillow. It seems like you’ve only been asleep a few minutes when you feel a soft squeeze on your toes. You yank your foot away and whine, not ready to wake up.

“Cal…stoppp,” you pout, jerking the covers up over your head and burrowing down.

“Wake up, Grumpy Gus, I brought coffee and croissants.”

That voice. The one you heard from thousands of miles away last night. The one you hear in your dreams. You throw the covers off in one swift motion and rub your eyes. It can’t be. But it is. Standing at the foot of the bed, a gentle smile on his face and a tray of coffee in one hand and a white paper bag in the other.

“Austin?! What are you even doing here?” You scramble out of bed and leap into his arms, squishing his cheeks between your hands and covering his face with kisses. He laughs and stumbles backward, just barely getting the coffee onto the dresser before it spills.

“I missed you too much so I caught the next flight to London. Couldn’t stand to be away from you for another minute. Happy to see me?” His eyes flick down shyly as he waits for your answer.

You don’t answer. Instead, you press your lips to his, tenderly at first and then hungrily, drinking in all of him. “More than happy, you have no idea,” you whisper when you come up for air.

“The fuck is going on?” a raspy voice calls out from the bed. Callum looks like he’s been hit by a truck - eyes squinty, face creased by sheets and curly hair sticking up at all angles.

“Austin brought coffee. And croissants,” you chirp, all traces of sleepiness gone.

Callum just shakes his head and groans, falling back into the sheets and pulling the covers over his eyes. “He would fly across an ocean just to make sure his girl didn’t like another cock better than his. Show off.”

-

Tags: @crazymadpassionatelove @stylespresleyhearted @oskea93 @softboo @winniemaywebber @spiderstyles04 @abswifey @thegettingbyp2 @blikebarbie92 @missmaywemeetagain @icedb1ackcoffee @wildfll0wer @dilfelvis @slowsweetlove @thefallofthedamned @cherieaustin @liv-n @denised916 @coureurs-de-bois9 @steph-speaks @jjubilee-fluff

[treacheryinblue]

「 ON DISPLAY 」 noah sebastian ⨯ f!reader

▷ chapter one

noah is your neighbor and your new favorite view thanks to his lack of curtains. you're pretty sure he prefers it this way. but the man you've created in your imagination is nothing like reality and you soon find yourself falling prey to a past lifestyle you had been desperately on the run from. trigger warnings : language, eventual smut, violence, mention/flashbacks of abuse, alcohol and drug use, sexual harassment/assault (nongraphic). word count : 6.2k

“Goddamn. This apartment just got so much better.”

Your mouth fell agape after you followed your best friend’s gaze until you were both staring across to the window opposite of yours. With only a narrow walkway separating the two apartment buildings, it gave you a perfect view into the curtainless home. 

A man stood in the living room, shirtless, his torso of tattoos on display for you to gawk at. Your eyes trailed the bits of bare skin slowly, pausing just where his black athletic shorts sat low on his hips. He was doing some stretches that you immediately recognized as yoga poses. Not your workout of choice but who were you to judge when your breakfast that morning had been a stale bag of Doritos? 

“Fuck…I didn't know yoga could be so hot.” 

Both you and Melinda - Mel - took synchronized steps closer before kneeling onto your couch, elbows resting on the back ledge for comfort. 

“Should we be watching him like this? I mean…doesn't it make us kinda creepy?”

Mel shrugged, her palms shifting to cradle her chin as she stared adoringly at your way too hot neighbor. “Nah, it's fine. It would only be creepy if he was watching you work out.”

“Sounds a little hypocritical.” 

“He's the one half naked in front of an open window!” She motioned dramatically to the lack of coverings on the floor to ceiling windows of his apartment. “He's asking to be watched.” 

With a roll of your eyes you could only laugh, head shaking at your friend. You weren't going to touch on that specific topic with her because Mel could be rather sensitive at times. The last thing you needed after enduring the stress of moving was to have a petty argument break out. 

“Shit, I gotta go. I'd love to sit and watch this absolutely stunning show all day, but Madam Roslyn needs her brat’s dry cleaning.”

Your nose scrunched at the mention of Mel's boss. She used the term ‘Madam’ in mockery towards the horrid woman, although that's how Roslyn preferred to be addressed. She clearly didn't view it as laughable as the rest of the city did when referring to a millionaire with two ridiculously evil twins. 

“Tell Satan and Lucifer ‘hi’ for me.” 

“You do know that's pretty redundant, right?”

“Yeah, but I don't care. It gets my point across.” You waved her off with a motion of your hand before bringing the same hand to your lips to blow a kiss in her direction. 

“Bye, bitch! Let me know if you go fuck your neighbor!” 

The request didn't even warrant a response because of how unlikely that scenario actually was. Mel knew this too. She had begged you on many occasions to go out and 'stretch your legs' again aka spread them for whatever guy looked your way at a bar, and each time you did exactly the opposite. That wasn't a mistake you were going to make again. Too many scars still lingered from last time – physical and mental. 

After Mel securely closed your front door you allowed your attention to shift back out the window. Although this time when you looked out a pair of eyes were staring back at you. His hands were on his hips, his breathing slightly labored, both of you holding the other's gaze for a beat too long. Your eyes widened and you froze as you were caught in the act, but the guy only did what you could assume was a laugh from so far away, his hand then lifting in a slight wave. 

You dropped down to your couch suddenly so you were no longer visible. Your heart hammering away violently within your chest. Dammit. How fucking awkward. 

X X X 

Days were long and the nights even longer. You had managed to pick up a couple of jobs to help ease the financial burden of moving despite the hefty amount of cash stashed away beneath a pried up floorboard in your closet. It wasn't the greatest hiding place but you didn't want to risk such a large sum of money randomly going into your bank account. You feared it would trigger an alert of sorts to those you were better off without. The feeling of having to hide was exhausting and you wished more than anything that things didn't have to be this way. 

If only you had been smarter. Less naive. Not so gullible. 

You yawned as you kicked your shoes off after a tiring day of being a personal errand girl for an old man that simply went by Red. Mel had helped you get the job through her connections with Madam Roslyn and the man reminded you of your grandfather when he had been alive and well. It was an opportunity you hadn't been able to pass up. The pay was decent and he was kind enough to give you the main holidays and most weekends off. What more could you ask for in the bustling city? 

Unfortunately, his generous pay still wasn't enough to keep you afloat and comfortable in your new life. Never would you go back to skipping meals or clinging to someone because of the way they ‘took care’ of you. You were determined to do it on your own. 

“Shauna said you can get a job with her!” 

There was a fury of noise in the background of wherever Mel was, leading you to believe she had agreed to stay later with Madam Roslyn’s little terrors. Thank god you had gotten a better deal with Red’s assistant gig. Mouthy children were not your forte. 

“The Shauna who works at that one club? The one with black velvet walls?” 

“Wait…how big are your tits?” 

You paused from tugging your shirt off to look at the phone as if your best friend could see your expression from across the city. Your unamused face was from both her knack of ignoring your questions and also asking some ridiculous ones of her own. 

“Okay, whatever, doesn't matter. You're hot and have a nice ass.” Mel quickly covered as if her question hadn't caused hundreds of others to arise. 

“What the hell kind of job is this? But I can't leave Red anyway, not after he talked to me all day today about how his grandkids never visit anymore. Shit is depressing.” You scurried around your room while changing into your comfortable attire for the evening. Oversized tee, pajama shorts, and fuzzy socks. It didn't matter what time of the year it was because your feet were always freezing. 

“That's the beauty of it!” Mel squealed in delight from the other end of the call. “It's a nighttime gig. I think she said she goes in around eight and gets off at two –”

“In the morning?!” 

“I know you aren't worried about getting your beauty rest. I've seen you party all night and rally for work with fifteen minutes of sleep on the bus.” 

Okay, she had you there. You were the queen of functioning with little to no sleep. It was both a blessing and a curse. 

“Maybe. I guess. I'll have to see what kind of availability I'd be able to give.” 

With one hand carrying your phone and the other clutching a box of crackers, a pack of cheese tucked into your elbow, you came to an abrupt halt in front of your couch. Right across the currently empty sidewalk was your hot neighbor…naked…with a girl pressed against the glass. Her back was to you and her legs wrapped securely around his hips, that of which were currently ricocheting between her thighs at a rapid pace. Your eyes widened, the words you had been about to speak to Mel dying on your tongue to leave nothing but the sound of her trying to grab your attention. 

“Hello? Helloooo?” 

“He's fucking a girl right now.”

“What? Who? Oh my god! Hot neighbor?!” 

You nodded, and even though Mel couldn't see you she still erupted in excitement as if she was standing right beside you and witnessing the act as well. 

“What does she look like? Is she hot too? I bet he bags all the tattooed baddies.” 

“All I can see is the back of her head and her ass, Mel. I don't know.” 

The phone in your hand was set down after you switched it to speaker, your “girl dinner” also dropping to the couch to be tended to in a few. You were frantically trying to close your curtains to give him some privacy whether he wanted it or not, but your sudden movements must've somehow garnered his attention. 

Just as you were about to fully close your curtains his head tilted in your direction, your eyes meeting again just as they had a few days prior, but this time over the unaware girl’s shoulder. And just like then, you froze. His thrusts slowed to a pace that you just knew had to be agonizingly torturous, though you could tell by the rippling of the girl's ass that he was still being rather rough. A faint smirk tugged at his lips…or what you assumed was a smirk due to the distance between your windows. No, you were pretty sure he was smirking at you. Had he even been waiting for you to appear and see the show? 

Okay, so hot neighbor was smug as hell. You couldn't say you were surprised by that. Just the eye contact you two held was enough to drive a warmth through the entirety of your body, more specifically right between your thighs. A chill even radiated down your spine despite your flushed skin and you briefly found yourself wondering what it was like to currently be that girl pressed against his window. 

“Flash your tits! Maybe he’ll invite you over to join!” 

“Melinda!” You hissed, the screech of the curtains finally coming together to block out the scene interrupting your scolding. 

“Fuck. This guy has got to get some blinds or something.” 

Later that night while in bed, your hand had drifted down between your thighs to help ease the tension that had grown rather quickly all thanks to that damned smirk. 

X X X 

There were times when you were alone that you let your thoughts get the best of you. Your overthinking had become less and less controlled until it ate you up, leaving your cuticles in tatters and the constant sound of your foot tapping against the hardwood floor had become the soundtrack of your life. You were terrified constantly. There were so many things that could go wrong that you were truly just waiting for the pin to drop because you knew it would eventually, it was just a matter of when. 

When would you be found? When would you make the single dumb decision that would change your life forever? When would you end up six feet under at the hands of the people you were once involved with? 

Living with these thoughts day to day wasn't healthy. You knew this. You didn't need to pay some $500 an hour specialist to recite the obvious, nor did you need to sit around in a circle and reveal your deepest thoughts to strangers in a support group that only had fake sympathies to offer. This was something you could handle on your own, or so you liked to constantly remind yourself. If your past had told you anything, it was that you couldn't rely on anyone but yourself anyway. 

You took in a deep breath, held it, and then slowly exhaled while counting backwards from ten. The trick didn't work as well as it used to but you were still hopeful with every attempt. It was your first day off in over a week and while your body desperately needed the rest, your brain was still going a million miles a minute. There was a bottle of overpriced wine you had yet to touch that was living in your fridge, that of which could easily take the worries away, but you resisted. That was only a temporary fix. 

As you shifted your position on the couch for the first time in two hours, you couldn't stop your gaze from drifting out the window. Most of the time he was never there, obviously off living his life to the fullest and unconcerned about you, the strange woman who creepily watched him. But much to your surprise, there he sat. He appeared to be alone from the glimpse you took, his long body spread out on his couch in a mimic of your own. Maybe he felt your eyes on him or maybe he had been curious about you as well because after only a couple of seconds his head lifted and angled perfectly for where you sat.

Like every time before, he didn't shy away from your stare. You decided to follow his lead and not look elsewhere either. You could even feel the faintest smile appearing over your lips, a friendly acknowledgement that you saw him and also saw him seeing you.

Hot neighbor’s eyebrows pulled together slightly and his head nodded upwards, a curious expression working over his features. You figured he wanted to know what you were doing, so you promptly lifted your book so he could see the spread pages. It wasn't like he had to know that you hadn't flipped a single one in a good hour. He nodded, his face now reading as impressed. A brief moment later and he was exchanging the same information with you, allowing you to see the notebook and pen held within his hands. A writer? How interesting. 

It was amazing what could be communicated without words. 

Long, drawn out seconds later, you both returned to your own lives, but you still occasionally found yourself glancing to his curtainless window. 

X X X 

“H-O-T-T-O-G-O! You can take me hot to go!” You loudly sang with the group crowded into your apartment, all of you tossing your hands up along with the lyrics in the way Chappell Roan had bestowed upon you. 

Surely you would get a fine for being so loud but you and Captain Morgan couldn't care less. At that moment you were having the time of your life for the first time in months and that's what was important to you. Not work. Not the dark cloud looming over your head. Nothing but having the best fucking time before reality set in. 

Mel danced up against you as you ground your hips into Dean, one of your other friends who always had the best manicures and didn't know what a “full length shirt” was. If he wasn't showing off his abs then what was the point of life? All his words. 

“Order up, I'm hot to goooo!” You tossed your hair around and dragged your hands along the length of your body, paying special attention to your chest and hips - both of which were accentuated in the dress you wore. 

How had you ever thought throwing a “house warming” party would be a bad idea? God, sober you was such a fucking drag sometimes. Parties were fun as hell and you made a silent pledge to yourself right then to have them more. 

As your fingertips dragged along your thighs, hiking the hem of your dress up a bit in the process, you felt your body becoming abnormally warm. Alcohol always made you flush but this was a different sensation, one that had only recently become known to you. You wanted to look around your apartment because you would've sworn he was in the same room as you, simply watching you dance and have a good time. No way could his stare be this powerful from all the way in the apartment building opposite of yours. 

But alas, you were wrong. 

Your glitter dusted eyes drifted to your window where twinkling lights had been hung. You could just barely make out the image of his silhouette across the walkway, one hand in his pocket as the other arm rested against the glass above his head. Thanks to his eyes acting like actual fingers, you didn't need to question the possibility of what he was focused on. You could feel every trace along your heated skin.

Although he was a distance away, you were imagining that he was right across the room. Watching you. Devouring you. Dean wandered off to join a duo he excitedly greeted as they walked in, leaving the front of your body on full display for hot neighbor. Your hips continued to sway while your hands trailed along your body, one paying special attention to your breasts as the other slowly lowered back down to where the short hem of your dress rested at the top of your thighs. You imagined him licking his lips and raising his eyebrows for you to continue, silently challenging you to put on more of a show for him. 

It didn’t matter how many people were in your apartment and could see you because everything you did in that moment was for him and only him. 

Ever so slowly your fingers dipped beneath your dress to trace along your inner thigh to tease him, and also yourself in the process. You didn't think it was possible for his gaze to become even heavier but you swore it drank you in and swallowed you up. The hand on your chest pushed up against your breast and your fingers dug into the ample flesh, threatening to tug the fabric down and bare yourself to him. Every inch of your body was aflame, your nerves screaming to be touched by his heavily tattooed hands you had daydreamed of on more than one occasion. 

You had no idea what it was about this man that had you in such a chokehold. Everything about him was unknown to you, yet you still craved him. Maybe even more than you had ever desired anyone before. 

The sound of your name being repeated pulled you from your trance until you had no choice but to rip your gaze from his. The music blasting through your apartment came flooding back in and you were suddenly aware of where you were again, as well as all the people surrounding you. Thankfully it didn't seem as if anyone had noticed your little bout of hypnosis. 

“We need towels!” Mel was calling to you from over the music, motioning towards the kitchen where an obnoxiously drunk guy appeared to have knocked over an entire bottle of Tito’s Vodka. The liquor was puddled on the floor, shards of glass glistening in the liquid it previously housed. 

“Son of a bitch,” you grumbled before yelling back to Mel an explanation of where she could find some spare towels. Maybe you should've gone to clean it up yourself since you were the host but you were eager to get back to the eye fucking you had been participating in with hot neighbor. Unfortunately, when you looked back through the large windows, his apartment was empty. 

X X X

“I feel so ridiculous,” you murmured to yourself beneath your breath, following the statement up with a heavy sigh. For the tenth time you tugged at the tiny black skirt you had been provided to wear, the hem riding up your ass and cupping your cheeks in a suggestive yet desirable way. Maybe Mel had been right when she said you had a nice ass. Too bad it had taken your physical discomfort for you to realize this. 

A blonde woman that appeared to be a few years older than you glanced your way with a snarky grimace, her eyes then rolling after taking you in. You tried not to pay any attention to her as you adjusted the straps of your top, as well as your breasts that were popping out. You had been told to wear your best bra, which you had, and now you could see why the request had been made. The uniforms at Nocturnal left very little to the imagination, but at least you were still wearing clothes. 

You couldn't say as much for the red head that was sauntering around the dressing room with her tits out without a care in the world. Damn. How were you supposed to get that amount of confidence? It wasn't that you were insecure, but being in the sort of relationship you had previously had definitely done a number on your mental state. You had been conditioned to believe that showing your body for anyone but him was one of the biggest sins. Amongst many other things but you had been trying very hard not to allow your thoughts to drift to those dark places. Something as simple as a v-neck t-shirt had earned you a reprimand on more than one occasion. 

“You're the new girl, yeah?” The attitude-filled blonde questioned while swiping eyeliner along her lower lash line. You glanced at her through the mirror you stood before, responding with only a slight nod. Her eyes looked you up and down again, a throaty laugh following her heavy gaze. “They're just going to looove you. New meat.” 

“Shut the hell up, Charlotte. Why do you always have to be so catty with the new ones?”

Shauna came strutting into the room at just the right time to prevent you from making an enemy on day one. She stood at your side, one hand on her curvy hip, the other resting upon your bare shoulder. The snarky blonde that you now knew as Charlotte simply rolled her eyes in the same exaggerated fashion again, a manicured hand waving in dismissal to Shauna. 

“Don't mind her,” Shauna leaned in a bit closer to you as if she was telling a secret but the volume of her voice never lowered. “She's just bitter because she doesn't get good tips anymore after her botched boob job. She's scared you'll take all of King’s attention. Not like she ever really had it to begin with.” 

You couldn't stop yourself from laughing despite your attempt to stifle it. Charlotte shot a glare at you, her fist tightening around her curling iron that she was using to touch up portions of her hair. 

“Oh, please. She's clearly not experienced enough to draw his eye. I'm not worried.” 

“Who's King?” You looked back and forth between the two women, your confusion beyond evident. Charlotte again chuckled, her tongue swiping over her plump lips while giving Shauna a look that read as 'seriously?’. 

“As I said, I'm not worried.” 

“So grouchy,” Shauna whispered while giving your shoulder a squeeze. You couldn't help but to notice how they both ignored your question. “But you look amazing! I knew you'd fit right in around here.” 

“What did she mean by all of that? Who's going to love me?” As far you knew, this was supposed to be a simple waitressing gig at a club. Sure, there was a room towards the back that housed the nude dancers but you had made it very clear that wasn't going to be your area. 

Shauna smiled kindly at you, soft laughter emitting from her. “She probably just meant the regulars,” she explained as she took your hand and began to lead you out of the dressing room. “They're the best tippers and are always on a first name basis with the girls. A few can get a little handsy but they know the servers are off limits. They have to go to the back rooms for that.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in further confusion but you didn't dare voice your questions. While you weren't naive when it came to this sort of “scene”, you also weren't well versed in it. All you really knew was what you had seen from movies and read in your books, as well as the conversations you'd eavesdrop in on between your ex and his pals. Never did you think you'd actually be a part of any of it. 

Shauna dragged you along to the bar off to the side. The music was loud enough that you couldn't even hear yourself think, so you had no idea how you were supposed to take drink orders in this place. Bodies were already piled in, all of them dancing and swaying to the music, tabletops filled with those enjoying the scenery and atmosphere. Nothing too out of the ordinary so far in comparison to waitressing jobs in the past. Those had been at family friendly restaurants, but how different could it really be? 

“I'm going to start you off with a couple of lower tables, okay? Only until you get the hang of it.” Shauna had her mouth close to your ear as she explained things, aiding in your inability to read her lips well enough. 

“I'm just taking drink orders, right? It can't be too bad.” You shrugged, a notepad and pen now in your grasp that she had passed your way. Shauna side eyed you with a smile and a slow nod of her head, silently communicating that she wasn't too sure about that. 

“Only thing you really need to know is that you've gotta smile and be friendly! These guys aren't dropping hundreds of dollars to be served by a witch with a stick up her ass. No matter how nice it may be. They like attention and thinking they have a shot with you, even though they have zero chances.” Shauna’s laughter continued as her eyes traveled along what appeared to be business men along the opposite side where the more private booths were located. “But like you said, it can't be too bad, yeah?” 

Oh, how wrong you had been. Only a couple of hours in and your feet were already aching, your black top damp and chest sticky from the drink you had recently spilled on yourself, and your frustrations were rising by the minute. It didn't help that Charlotte had decided to steal one of your main tables, leaving you with only one, as well as a couple of small bar tops. Despite your overwhelmed demeanor, the club never stopped filling. More and more bodies pressed together and you swore the music had also been cranked higher, the lights dimmed red to further set the vibe. Fuck, you were going to crash and burn on only your first night. 

“Hey!” A whistle garnered your attention, your head quickly turning to the bartender whose name you still hadn't caught. “Can you take these to VIP?” He slid a couple of glasses your way and then began to take the order of another patron before you could even reply. Your mouth opened and closed in an attempt to explain that you weren't serving VIP that night. You didn't even know where the hell VIP was. 

“Up those steps and to the right!” The same red head from the dressing rooms earlier sauntered by you while carrying a tray of empty glasses that she quickly disposed of and replaced with fresh drinks. She was no longer naked, instead adorned in the same uniform as every other waitress. 

“I…Shauna told me to stay on the lower levels,” you tossed back nervously, shaking your head. 

“Look, we're swamped! Just take the drinks up and then I'll take VIP again after I drop these off. Easy!” Then, just like the bartender, the red head was disappearing before you could respond. 

You looked at the drinks, the winding stairs that lead to the VIP level, and then back to the drinks. The glasses were already starting to sweat so you knew you had a narrow window before they became too watered down. With a deep breath, you snatched up the drinks and strutted towards the steps with as much confidence as your exhausted limbs could muster. Which, honestly, wasn't much. 

One step was cautiously taken after another, the music fading the higher you ascended. You sighed in relief when your ability to hear just yourself again resurfaced and you suddenly realized why VIP was so sought after by all the waitresses. You knew it couldn't be solely because of the tips you were likely to secure. It was also the peace of mind. 

VIP was darker than the lower levels because the lights shifting through the space never angled correctly to douse it in much color. You figured this was done with a purpose. The back perimeter was lined with black leather sectionals, glass tables centered in front of each one, and there was a railing that allowed patrons to overlook the lower level. Since this wasn't a very party-heavy area, you couldn't help but to assume it's where business took place. You had been in spaces like this many times before finding your way to this city. The thought made you uneasy because “business” sometimes meant paperwork and meetings, but it could also mean something more violent. 

Three men sat off to the right, two of them smoking cigars while the other fidgeted with something in his hand. A coin, by the looks of it. Silence overtook them when one noticed you, his eyes immediately raking over your body. It felt nothing like it did when hot neighbor did the same. Both were strangers but there was something about this particular unknown man you didn't care for. He was older, which wasn't the problem, it was more so the dead look in his eyes. 

“My sincerest apologies for the delay, gentleman,” you smiled while laying it on thick. 

“Where's Dana?” 

The man to the right spoke up, his disdain towards you quite obvious. You figured Dana was the red head you had spoken to at the bar, or so you were going to safely assume. “She’s briefly tied up with another table. She'll be right back with you. Until then, can I get you anything else?” You forced a smile, the sweetest possible in the moment. 

“Yeah,” the same rude man took a swallow from his drink and then motioned for you to step closer. “Come here. I haven't seen you before. I'd remember.” 

There was no hesitation in your motions as you closed the space between yourself and the man, no matter how uneasy he made you. Nothing had happened to make you believe he was outwardly dangerous, although you could see right through him. You knew he was the type that liked to destroy others. It was written in his eyes and the $20,000 watch hanging from his wrist. 

“What's your name?” 

Shit. Shauna had told you earlier to make up an alias for yourself and you had been too caught up with actually working that you had forgotten. She explained it was for safety but also because it could be fun to play someone else. You didn't tell her you were already doing as much and it wasn't nearly as fun as the club assumed. 

“Genevieve,” you slowly drawled. The name of your late grandmother. Oh how she’d get a kick out of this. 

The man smirked through a cloud of smoke, his lifeless eyes again looking you up and down. “Genevieve. How beautiful.” He was suddenly reaching out for you, his hand grasping your wrist to pull you closer. Keeping a hold of your wrist, he set his drink aside to free the other so he could grope along your hip and down the side of your exposed thigh. You softly gasped in shock but you didn't jerk away like your mind was screaming at you to do. Instead you stood frozen, fear shuddering through your veins. 

“Hasn't the boss and his right hand already warned you about touching the servers?” One of the other men laughed as if you were nothing more than an object for their enjoyment. In their eyes that's exactly what you were. 

Dead Eyes kept his focus on you, his rough fingertips still trailing your thigh. “Fuck the boss and his little bitch boy. What's his name? King? Kid thinks he runs this place.” 

Tears threatened to well in your eyes but you refused to let your fear show. That's what men like these wanted. They craved to feel the power they held over others, but especially women. It made them feel special in their minuscule lives. In reality, it made them weak. 

The man you stood before halted the motion of his hand just as it grazed the back of your thigh and threatened to disappear beneath your already barely-there skirt. His eyes were now looking past you, annoyance showing in his hollow gaze before his hand fell from your body. He dropped your wrist with a force while simultaneously pushing you back an inch. 

“You were already given a warning, Marcus. Two, if I remember correctly.” A new voice greeted your ears, yet you were still too frozen to turn and see who it belonged to. You could feel his eyes, though. It was so familiar. Heavy. “But here you are, still harassing the staff.” 

A figure stepped around you, gently nudging you back a few more steps. He was much taller than you with dark hair, his outfit black on black, at least from what you could tell from behind. There was something about him that commanded the attention of the room and you were more than willing to give it to him. So much that you hadn't even noticed the way he was leaning closer to the man now known as Marcus, his body slightly bent and an extended hand holding something to the repulsive man's neck. A peek to the left and you could just barely see the black splotches of ink that covered his own hand. 

“Why do you insist on touching what doesn't belong to you?” His voice lowered, the words being hissed in a threatening manner. “Don't make me remind you again just who here is the real bitch boy.” 

Marcus murmured something that sounded like an agreement, maybe an apology, which was apparently enough for the man because he stood back to his full height and then closed the knife you hadn't previously realized he was in possession of. As he turned to the side you could see the bright red line of blood that was sliced into Marcus' neck - his punishment. The wound was shallow, definitely not deadly, but you figured it got his point across. 

The man was then facing you and you slowly raised your attention to him. Your breath caught in your throat and recognition flared in your eyes. You were sure the brief shock you saw in his gaze mimicked your own, though his was fleeting and quickly returned back to the hardened glare. 

Hot neighbor. 

“I'll be sure to mention to the boss that we had a talk tonight, gentlemen.” The man spoke to the small group without so much as a glance back to them. His attention was too focused on you, his hand placed on the middle of your back to help guide you around and towards the spiral staircase. You assumed he was going to leave you once you began your descent but he was right on your heels for the entirety of the trek, only pausing once you nearly reached the lower level. 

Lightly grasping your arm, he gave a gentle tug to bring you closer before you could scurry away. “I think a 'thank you’ is in order.” You could hear the smile in his voice, as if this situation was amusing to him. Maybe it was. You knew next to nothing about him so it wasn't as if you could truly gauge his reaction. 

“I didn't need your help,” you fired back. You didn't like to be told what to do by men on a power trip. Not anymore. “I could've handled it myself.”

“Really?” His smile widened and his posture dipped so your eyes could better meet through the darkness. “Because it looked to me like you were a frightened deer caught in the headlights. Very consistent for you.” 

At least he was admitting that he knew who you were without truly saying it. You had given him the same look from your apartment window on multiple occasions now. 

You remained silent, your eyes burrowing into his instead of trailing along his face like you desperately felt the need to. For reasons unknown you wanted to memorize every little detail and carry the memory with you forever. It didn't matter that you knew you should be somewhat afraid of him after the physical threat he placed upon Marcus. The idea of him doing the same to you never even crossed your naive mind. 

When you still didn’t respond, but also refused to back down, he returned to his full towering height over you and dropped his smile. It was like he had pulled a mask over his face to be whoever it was Nocturnal expected. But what did you know? This could be the true version of himself instead of the one you had been witnessing from your window for over a month. 

“Run along, little deer,” he gently spoke, his tone condescending, just before disappearing back up the spiral staircase. 

[digonthis]

Catered Audience- Pt. 1

Spencer Agnew x f!Reader

2.2k words

( ᴅᴍ ᴏʀ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛ ғᴏʀ ᴛᴀɢ :] ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴍʏ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ sᴍɴ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪs sᴏ ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ʟᴍᴋ ɪʟʟ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɪғ ɴᴏᴛ ɪʟʟ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴛʜɪs ᴀᴄᴄ ᴛᴏ sʜɪᴛᴘᴏsᴛ ɪɢ? ɪᴅᴋ )

slow burn-ish, fluff, mutual pining, all that shit

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧♡‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

You smile as you sit at the bar and a glass of your favourite drink is immediately placed in front of you. This dump had been your go-to spot for the last forever. Your name, order, and horrible singing on karaoke night was well-known by all the bartenders and plenty of the other patrons, one of which who sat in the stool next to you a few minutes later.

Josh pushed his glasses up his face, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh. As he takes a sip of his beer, you place your chin in your hand, leaning down onto the bar a little. “Long day?”

He nods slightly, tongue poking out to lick the froth from his upper lip. “Work’s been a lot lately, been on overtime filming… I love food but the idea of cooking anything after work is too much, and so beer dinner was born.”

This makes you laugh and nod as he chugs the remains of the beer down, leaving only traces of foam in the glass. You think of your own work, a self-run catering business, and let out a short sigh. “At least you’ve got work to do, I seem to be the only person I cook for at all.” 

“I’d buy dinner offa ya, i’d buy dinner for the whole mythical crew if it’d mean I don’t have to make it myself…” Josh admits as he starts on another beer. The idea makes you chuckle a little, but as your eyes meet his you don’t see any humour, only exhaustion. “I mean… if you’ve got a work party or somethin’ you know i’m always free…” You offer carefully, not wanting to sound too desperate. 

A few weeks later, you push the door to the Mythical studio open with your back, arms plentifully filled with huge trays filled with piping hot food. Josh trails behind you, carrying even more, shouting out directions and greetings to his coworkers as you pass them by, all captured and excited by the smell of the food you’re bringing in.

The first of many orders went over well, to the point that everyone on Mythical knew your name. Parties, events, and even just long filming days kept you busy with plentiful orders and generous tips, but Rhett and Link knowing your name and personally greeting you the last few times you’d come in had been what really made the gig. Hanging around after deliveries became natural, making friends, chatting, and blushing at everyone’s compliments on your cooking and hard work. Mythical became like a second home, you could never imagine any other job or quitting this one.

You almost quit the day Josh asked you to be in a video. Just at the end- a part of a taste test compilation of people trying his latest kitchen experiment for a Mythical Kitchen video, but he didn’t push the idea after he saw how wide your eyes got and how your hands started to shake a little before you shoved them deep in your pockets. The idea of being on camera in front of potential millions… it was not for you. 

Josh had that air about him. Confident, genuine, unbothered. The kind of person who could look a lens in the face and convince anyone that he was all that and more, even if he didn’t know who exactly was behind there.

You jolt back to life as an eggshell falls into your mixer as you crack in an egg, snapping back to the present after your little brain spiral. You fish it out with a spoon before tossing it into the sink, grabbing a glass of water to hopefully clear your head up as you finish your latest order. The giant cake Josh had requested had you curious, you knew from memory that it was far too many servings even for everyone at mythical, almost double that. Nonetheless, when you double and triple checked Josh was confidently sure he got the order right. 

The delivery spot for this one was a big banquet hall, nowhere near the studio. A little out of the usual, but nothing crazy. Josh, as usual, helped you bring in all the cake layers, and very unhelpfully watched as you stacked them all, gasping and jolting as you placed each, stressing you out to the point you made him put the last few on himself.

“What do you even need such a big cake for, it’s so unnecessary for the size of the company…” You ask as he puts the top layer on delicately, whispering his response as he focuses on the task. “We bought another company, this is a celebration kinda welcome party thing…” He breathes out. You relax your tensed-up jaw as you see the last layer goes on smoothly, gathering up all the boxes and placing the serving knives on the table.

��You’ll at least stay for a few drinks, right?” Josh asks as he backs away from the cake, admiring your work. “The bosses went all out on this party and I'm sure they’d be happy if you stuck around… and I hear there’s a prosecco fountain.” He adds, knowing exactly what to say to tempt you. It almost works, but your tired body and even sleepier mind win out over the idea of unlimited free drinks and partying. Josh protests all the way to your car, flipping you off as you drive away back to your apartment- and more importantly your bed.

As you snored and drooled all over your pillow, shitty Nickelback blasting from your phone, the same song played at the welcome party when one of the new editors got a hold of aux. A few groaned and many laughed at the song, dancing, mingling, and celebrating the purchasing of Smosh. The cake was a hit, Josh was sure to hype up his catering contact to anyone lingering by the table including the new company employees who hadn’t been acquainted with your cooking yet.

That time next week, you were buying Josh’s beer at the bar as a thank you. He’d secured you a catering gig with the new subsidiary, a channel called Smosh with just as large and rambunctious a crew as Mythical with far more on-camera personalities to get to know. You had only seen a few videos in passing but liked what you found, general comedy, fun, and games. With Smosh and Mythical both committed and regular customers, you were stretched thin with all the catering work, but extremely happy and grateful for it. Working a little harder was all worth it for the regular praise, thanks, and pretty penny you’d been making as of late.

Between hanging around the Mythical studios and Smosh, you were barely home anymore unless you were cooking something to bring right back there. Selina, who’s job you just considered to be the mom of Smosh, was a friendly face you could always count on to greet you. Chatting about the weather and sneaky food requests soon turned into office gossip and personal drama retellings, you could always count on her for a good chit chat whenever you were pulling up with food for the office.

You let out a huff as you lifted a particularly hefty tray onto a higher counter, Selina nearby idly relaying all the events of this particularly busy filming week. Long shoots, long days, and an exhausted cast and crew meant plenty of funny, juicy, and sometimes scandalous events to recap. As the door hinge squeaks open, you don’t have time to look to see who is walking in as you’re busy getting all the food set up. Selina pauses for a minute before continuing her little rant, and you hear the other person laugh and chime in on the story. You turn your head to meet smiling eyes, one of the crew members. Kiana was eager to join in on the gossip, and you caught yourself lingering behind even as cast and crew alike filed into the room to grab some dinner.

The three of you sat off to the side joking and laughing, but you found that they had much more to contribute gossip-wise than you did. Working all alone meant no employee conflicts, so a juicy story was just double the excitement to you. Your work could be lonely at times, so soaking up the positive energy from all the new people at Smosh had definitely done you some good.

The next time Smosh had a tough filming week, you were a little more prepared. Huge orders like that meant plenty of gossip so you’d cleared your evening for the hell of it, and the smile Selina threw at you as you carted in a heavy ass trolley of food told you it’d be a feat worth the reward. You were surprised to find Angela, an energetic and spunky cast member you hadn’t really met formally, rooting through the fridge. She smiled when she saw you, and that grin only grew wider at the sight of the food you’d brought with you. “Hell yes! Did you bring dessert again?” She asked excitedly, closing the door with a drink in her hand. You smiled at this, nodding. 

“Tres leches cake and sugar cookies~” You tease, placing the dessert trays onto the counter first and gesturing to them with a welcoming grin. “The corners of the cake are always the best, in my opinion. I’d go dessert first today if I were you.”

Soon later, Angela and Selina were both sitting at the table with generous slices of cake, telling a wild story of some employee crossovers and trading between Mythical and Smosh. While you were engrossed in the story, you couldn’t help but wonder where everyone else was. Usually by the time you were done setting up, you had a few hungry people hovering around or at least heads peeking into the room, but the building seemed like a bit of a ghost town.

“You keep looking around for people, but I think everyone without something to do right now is sitting in on the shoot.” Selina says, a keen eye reading your thoughts. Mention of said shoot made Angela giggle though a mouthful of cake. She brought up one of the editors, a super funny guy who hadn’t been on camera all that much but could have everyone in tears laughing whenever he did get the chance. Word had spread that he was doing a character for a video today, and was outshining all the regular cast members in the shoot with his jokes.

In a minute Angela had finished her cake and tossed the paper plate, linking arms with you. “Have you seen a shoot yet? I gotta get an eye on this but I don’t want you running away yet…” She says with a devious grin as you shake your head no. It had always been a curiosity of course, seeing the behind-the-scenes of everything, but you’d never been keen on intruding on something important like that. Angela’s mind seemed void of anything like that as she cheerily led you to a set, the sounds of laughing and cheers guiding the pair of you two.

Your hesitation melted away as you heard… Limp Bizkit lyrics. Why were you hearing this? Was that guy supposed to be Fred Durst? Darts? Why are there fake birds??? The absurdity of it all quickly overtook your anxiety of intruding on this shoot, Angela leading you to an area off to the side where familiar faces sat and laughed at the entertainment. A few people recognized you with smiles and waves, some others were too engrossed in the jokes. You had to force your eyes away from the set to look over the crew and tech of it all, huge cameras and elaborate microphones, smiling faces behind the workings of it all. You knew you’d kick yourself later for not really taking it all in, but you couldn’t tear your focus away from the cast and their shenanigans, specifically the horrible fred durst impersonator. You knew this must have been the editor Angela was talking about, but you almost couldn’t believe someone this funny and lively isn’t a full-time actor.

You snapped yourself out of the daze of laughing and enjoying the shoot when you caught a glimpse of the time on your watch. You squeezed Angela’s knee appreciatively before slipping out of the room, having lost track of time. You found Selina at her desk again and couldn’t help a quick stop to gush about how funny this guy was. Spencer, who’s name she provided, was apparently one of the coolest guys around the office. You couldn’t help but show Selina the little Limp Bizkit pin on your bag, giggling with her about it before you leave for the night, far behind schedule.

You threw on your old Bizkit vinyl for the hell of it when you finally got home, humming along and fighting a smile any time the stupid bit came to your mind. It was obviously meant to appeal to a niche audience, one you definitely fall into. You spend the rest of the evening on a new order requested from Smosh, one that definitely had you excited. Mumbling along lyrics you were surprised you could still remember, you got started on a long night of work.

[luneengene2]

"I Want You Back"

• Jayhoon x fem!reader

• Warnings : ↪️ Jay (TXT Taehyun's Appearance, blood status insult, mentioning whore, mentioning about blowjob), Sunghoon (Mentioning sex dolls and sex, physical altercations, mentioning blood, Mentioning harassment), grammar error, Tell me if I missed something!

• Note : i made a sequel just for Jay and Sunghoon in my work a while ago because they were the ones I made the MOST angst. Oh yeah, before that I want to say happy new year. Hopefully in this new year, everything will always get better.

// PARK JONGSEONG //

"I heard, Y/N is dating Taehyun,"

"Really? Oh my, that girl really has no self-respect. Being dumped by Park but also eyeing a part of Park's circle, how disgusting,"

"But wait a minute, Kang Taehyun is also a Slytherin, a pureblood too. But how could he approach or even date that cheap mudblood? Park Circle can't be that low."

"Oh my gosh Merlin, the Kang family is quite pro non-purebloods. Park can be friends with non-pureblood pros, as long as they remain pureblood,"

"But it was still weird. And as for Y/N? That girl was such a bitch, dumped by Park and immediately wanted his friend,"

"Oh or could it be that the girl gave Kang a love potion?!"

Jay's ears had been eavesdropping on the conversation of two sixth year Slytherin girls who were sitting not far from him. They were talking about you and Kang Taehyun who were rumored to be dating.

It's been almost a week since she heard this rumor. The rumor about his best friend dating his ex-girlfriend.

Honestly, every time Jay hears this rumor, Jay's ears are quite hot. He didn't believe this. The girl he dumped at that time instead got Kang Taehyun who had a loving attitude. The girl who at that time begged him not to leave her, now (maybe) found a loving man. Who might be her new boyfriend.

He didn't realize his heart also ached when he imagined that you and Taehyun were dating. He was indeed full of prestige about his blood status and his family's big name. But, deep inside his heart there is a perfect space for your love. It's just that he doesn't want to admit it or doesn't realize it.

///

Jay grumbled in annoyance because Professor Trelawney changed the divination class time as she pleased, resulting in him leaving the divination class at ten at night. Jay actually hated divination class, but since his parents made him take the whole class, he had no choice but to do it.

"See you later, Y/N," Jay stopped in his tracks when he heard someone he recognized come out of the library along with a girl he also recognized. Jay immediately hid his body behind the wall.

"Thank you for your help, Tyunie. I'm relieved now," you smiled warmly at Taehyun. He helped you with your potion essay even though it was ten at night.

Jay clenched his fists when you called Taehyun by his childhood name. Jay knew, that was Taehyun's nickname when he was little. If you call Taehyun 'Tyunie', it means you are very close to him.

"I'm glad I could help you, Y/N. If you need any help, don't hesitate to ask me, I'm always here for you," Taehyun stroked your head gently, his gaze full of affection, even though he was part of the famous pureblood.

After some more talking, you and Taehyun finally parted ways. He went back to his dorm, while you went back to yours.

However, as you pass a wall that connects to the right hallway, a voice stops you in your tracks. "How does it feel to be Kang Taehyun's whore, Y/L/N?" You looked to your right, seeing Park Jongseong looking at you with a mocking gaze. And it made you tense.

"You look like you're having fun with Kang Taehyun, does he treat his bitches well?" You clenched your fists as Jay blatantly uttered inappropriate words.

"This is none of your business, Park Jongseong. Shut your filthy mouth or I'll slap you!" You glared at Jaehyun, your jaw tightened. You were still hurt by what he had done to you. He dumped you rudely, and now insults you too.

"Oh wow, you dare to challenge a pureblood? Is it because you have Kang Taehyun by your side that you're starting to get braver?" Jay approached you with his towering height, looking at you sarcastically and mockingly. In a situation like this, you desperately held back from crying. You are weak about him, but you have to stay strong.

"Do you think I'll always keep quiet about what I'm facing? Without Kang Taehyun by my side, I can slap you easily, Park Jongseong. I don't want to be stepped on all the time! Your pure blood doesn't scare me now," You grinned faintly, shocking Jay that you had such a change.

"Before Kang Taehyun came, you were still afraid, avoiding me. And suddenly you're brave? Oh, is it because sucking my best friend's cock gave you a wild courage effect?"

SMACK!

Jay's face tilted to the left as you slapped him as hard as you could because he suspected you of doing something indecent with Taehyun on school grounds. Your tears are already flowing.

"You know, even though I'm not a pureblood, I still have my pride, Jongseong! I'm not a whore! At least respect me as a woman! Part of the race that gave birth to you!" You shouted at him in a choked voice, your breath short from your patience as your heartache was at its brink.

"If you hate me then leave me, Jongseong! After breaking up with you everything fell apart, your fucking purebloods beat me up like I was trash! Isn't that pathetic enough?! I even kept quiet, because I knew my voice wouldn't be heard if I dared! Isn't that enough punishment for lying to you? Should I die first so I can get the karma I deserve for courting death with a pure-blood noble like you?! Tell me Jongseong, what do you want from this mudblood?!" You shook his body hard with all the angry and frustrated screams that you finally let out.

"I JUST WANT YOU BACK!" Jay shouted at you, causing you to immediately take a few steps back in shock from his sudden shout.

"Okay you win! I just want you back, I hate Taehyun who took what I have, I hate what I have being taken by Taehyun so easily. I hate that you don't belong to me!" Jay's tears fell down his cheeks, he looked at you sadly and as if he was 'giving up', he was defeated. His ego no longer wins, this time his love wins.

"I just want Taehyun to give me back what I had, I want you back, Y/N. I want that, just that," he whispered and finally fell to his knees with a pleading look. He looked frustrated and messy in less than a minute.

Your body trembles even more as you look at him, like a desperate vagrant in need of a morsel of food.

You felt an arm wrap around your stomach area, Jay hugged you and cried into your stomach. A cry that you had never heard before. Tears accompanied by words of apology were truly painful to hear.

He really wants you back...

// PARK SUNGHOON //

"Y/N! Y/N Y/L/N!" You looked back when you heard a girl's scream which would be quite ear-piercing if she passed someone. Astoria Greengrass ran towards you at full speed, her face filled with panic.

You frowned in surprise as the girl looked panicked running towards you. You stood up from your sitting position.

"What's wrong, Greengrass? Why did you call me that?" You asked after the Slytherin girl stopped right in front of you, gasping for breath.

"I need your help. It's about Park Sunghoon," Astoria's sentence made you blink immediately. Why did she ask for help with Sunghoon? Everyone knew Sunghoon was your ex-boyfriend.

Sunghoon doesn't want anything to do with you in his circle of life anymore. But why is one of the Slytherins who is Sunghoon's housemate asking for your help?

"Park Sunghoon? What's wrong with him?" Even though he is your ex-boyfriend, you still love him very much. Maybe he has moved on, especially since you lied to him, something that really hurt him.

"He attacked Adrian Pucey mercilessly after Pucey said that he had forced sex with you. He said that Sunghoon was stupid for letting go of a sex doll like you,” your eyes almost fell out as Astoria’s words entered your ears. Lately, you and Adrian have been getting quite close, while you've been seeing Sunghoon less and less. Maybe Sunghoon also didn't want to see the face that had hurt him more often.

But why did Adrian say such dirty things to you? You and him are close now, but why did he indirectly harass you through words.

But what you just heard from Astoria was certainly surprising. Sunghoon attacked Adrian Pucey because of his words that indirectly harassed you. Even though the relationship no longer existed. He even hated you.

"Y/L/N don't just daydream! Do me a favor and come to Slytherin before Sunghoon actually blows up the houses and kills Adrian Pucey!" Astoria shook your shoulder hard as you were lost in thought about some things about Sunghoon.

"Okay, I'll help you,"

///

After saying the password, the door to Slytherin House opened. And the first sight you saw was a noisy crowd surrounding something.

Several pairs of eyes noticed that you entered the Slytherin house, giving you looks of disdain and surprise.

"What is this ugly whore-"

"Shut your mouth, you damn pug!" Astoria immediately scolded her senior because she wanted to start a war with you too. Astoria parted the crowd as she pulled you to see how Sunghoon was doing.

PRANG!

The first thing you see when you have successfully split the crowd is Adrian Pucey being thrown by Sunghoon onto a long table filled with glass bottles of drinks.

Sunghoon pulled Adrian who was already looking weak again, and punched and kicked several areas of Adrian's body. Jaw, and stomach the most.

"My girl will not be touched by you, Pucey! You cannot molest her as long as I am alive!" Sunghoon screamed loudly with a long breath. You also noticed blood flowing from his hand, probably from being hit by the scattered glass shards.

You covered your mouth at the rather brutal sight. Sunghoon, who usually didn't want to ruin his reputation by fighting, now looked like a complete mess. Wounds on cheeks, lips and hands, robes and vests undone, ties askew, shirts wrinkled, hair messy. If it's like this, Sunghoon is like a thug, not a pureblood like you usually see.

When Adrian was thrown again and fell to the floor, Sunghoon was about to step on his face with his leather shoes, but you skillfully stopped him by standing in front of him. "Sunghoon stop it!" Your breath hitched as you pushed him away from Adrian a little. He was quite surprised when you suddenly appeared in front of him.

"Stop this, you could get hurt worse," Your voice was hoarse, almost crying and tense because this was the first time since you broke up with him that you were holding him again.

"Doll..." You nodded quickly as his sweet call for you was heard again, you swallowed your saliva. Gathering your mind to speak. "He didn't do anything to me, he just lied to you to provoke your anger. I'm fine, Sunghoon. He didn't touch me even an inch," You explain it gently and slowly, so that his emotions don't explode.

Sunghoon stared at you deeply, the same gaze he had when he first fell in love with you when you were in your early teenage years. You realize one thing, that he still loves you, just like before.

Sunghoon closed his eyes and slowly pulled you into his embrace, creating silence in that green house. His bloodless hand held the nape of your neck and his lips kissed gently on your forehead and temple.

Sunghoon clenched his bleeding fist, his anger still boiling, only he held it back because the girl who was 'still' his came to calm him down.

Sunghoon regrets? Of course! His ego at that time defeated his love, but his deepest heart said otherwise. If he doesn't let you go, no one will dare to harass you or say bad things to you.

"My girl... My perfect love,"Sunghoon whispered and kissed your temple again, implying that he wanted you back.

[lasnevadaslaborunion]

Okay, finally caught up on the full VOD and here are some messy thoughts

...

So. UHHH. On a gut emotional level, I fucking hated that lmao. Whole chapter of my life finished with a bang and a whimper. Las Nevadas Labor Union is over, y'all. The boss just deny, defend, deposed himself. Holy shit.

On an intellectual, thematic level... I... can't really... argue with that? Like, we didn't actually expect a character that cc!Q explicitly said was inspired by Walter White to receive a happy ending or a functional relationship, did we? We were really high on our copium supply, good grief.

I could, and still might, write a whole meta about how c!Quackity has been passively suicidal with a foreshortened sense of future for a very long time. As far back as Doomsday, he didn't care if he lost his life, as long as he got to watch those who hurt him go down first. He declared so many times that he would die with his country. He was incessantly compared to c!Wilbur, both by other characters and by the narrative itself. He was fucking terrified of being betrayed again, but he always expected it, and moreover did nothing to prevent it. He told c!Foolish and c!Purpled outright that they would have every right to kill him for what he did to them. Didn't even consider making himself immortal with the revival book, instead focusing on making sure c!Dream would no longer have it. Didn't fight back when Slime killed him. Doubled down on his mistakes, and in hindsight rationalized everything as inevitable. Wrested back control the only way he knew how, following another's model. Las Nevadas was a broken institution, built by a man who had given up on fixing anything. His story was always about the self-perpetuating cycle of power and abuse.

This... isn't shocking, unfortunately. If anything, it was too obvious an ending.

I won't go too deep into the OOC implications, because they will make me sound... way more parasocial than I want to be. But I don't think it's controversial to say that the DSMP holds a lot of complicated, difficult, bittersweet memories for many of its former members. It does not surprise me at all that the ending cc!Q chose for his arc was an unhappy one. There are several possible conclusions I would have greatly preferred, but none could have realistically happened without Certain People returning. I wonder how aware the creator was of that, and how much those emotions bled into the writing.

And while I'm... still not certain how I feel about c!Quackity blowing himself up even after being given a second chance (I will always prefer "live and try to do better" à la Bojack Horseman for characters like this), I see the in-universe logic behind it, and everything up to that point was completely in character. Right down to his denial of having ever done the deed, boasting that his enemies deemed him important enough to kill, while ironically taking hollow pride in denying them the chance to take the revenge he so desperately sought for himself, showing no mercy to who he maybe subconsciously believed was his greatest obstacle to true glory... ughhh, c!Quackity makes me so fucking SAD you guys-

Ahem. Anyway. Could he have forgiven himself? Would he have ever accepted the forgiveness of others? Perhaps, perhaps not. In two other lives, those he unknowingly gave a second chance to, he did. q!Quackity went on living for the sake of someone he loved, knowing he, too, was loved. k!Quackity went on living until he found justice, knowing he did not deserve to be wronged. c!Quackity... what other legacy would he have left? Does he know what he truly wanted, before all that fear and hunger for control tainted his heart? Was he content to know someone would remember him with a shred of fondness? That he left a single positive impact? That his life did have a purpose?What if he knew that even some of those with the most reason to hate him still wanted him to be better?

I suppose one might imagine an open-ended resolution, exchanging that last shot of c!Q's last life vanishing with him riding Boner/Ossium away from the explosion and into the sunset to build a better legacy. What would that new legacy look like? I have no idea. I don't think he knows yet, either. But we can pick our favorite based on the day. Time travel is real, and canon is made up. We can do what we want forever now. Enjoy.

...

He's not a fucking gringo, though. c!Quackity is Mexican, importantly so, full fucking stop. Stop infecting him with more Trump particles than he already had. "Oh great, a foreigner" honestly FUCK you Alex. 0/10 for that

[short-honey-badger]

Peppermint Tea 37 - Hibiscus 2

Summary: Time passes, and you settle in with your boys. Tomura meets his niece, and a certain ex-warlord calls Mihawk

*warnings* some smut. Lot of stuff happens this chapter. It's a big one!

*Note!* This will be the last official chapter of Peppermint Tea! I have an epilogue planned that will be posted later today, but it's more of a *where are they at after 10 years* lol. I want to thank all you lovely people who have come by and read and commented on this massive work. You guys are what drove me to finally come back and finish this. I really hope you guys have enjoyed the ride!

Peppermint Tea Masterlist-> HERE

“Oh, she’s so cute!” Perona squeals and Mihawk gives his older daughter a narrow-eyed look to quiet down. The ghost girl gives a sheepish grin as she floats closer to take a closer look at Joyeuse, her baby sister. The babe watches her with big, golden eyes, and Perona is hard-pressed to not snatch her up and run away with her. 

You are watching from the couch, Shanks stretched out beside you so that you can rest your head against his shoulder with a fond look. You feel full, content in a way that you’ve never been before to have your most precious people all in the same room. All you were missing now was your brother, but according to Shanks, he would be here soon. 

Joyeuse gurgles and drools against her father’s chest, eyes watching the way the pinkett's hair bounces whenever she shakes her head. A hand is suddenly in reach, and Joy happily snuggles into the warmth it provides when it’s lain over her chest. She always knew who was holding her by their warmth. Mother was always cool, Father was almost scorching at times, but Papa. He was perfect.

“Do you want to hold her?” you ask Perona and laugh when the girl sits down faster than you’ve ever seen the other woman move, “Just make sure you support her head.” 

Mihawk steps over to Perona and walks her through the best way to hold Joyeuse. He’d become rather protective to the point it was overbearing lately if you were honest with yourself. If you didn’t have your daughter, then Mihawk was the one holding her 80% of the time. You’d mentioned it to Shanks, but the redhead didn’t seem to have a problem with it, stating that he had far less dirty diapers to change. 

“Stop squirming, girl,” Mihawk grumbles and then slowly transfers his daughter over when Perona stills. He watches the young woman coo over the babe, chest feeling tight at the display before him. Both of his girls so close together, the swordsman only wished that Zoro were here to see this. He would need to write to the young man soon and tell him the good news. 

Mihawk relaxes once he is confident that Perona has a good hold on Joy, and makes his way to the couch where he sits on your other side. You snake a hand into his lap and he indulges you by threading his fingers with your own, the edges of his lips curling into a tiny smile. 

“When is my brother supposed to be here?” you ask quietly. You’re beyond nervous to see him again, but terribly excited at the same time. It’s been over twenty years since you’ve seen your brother, and you can’t help but wonder how much he’s changed from the boy you remember from your dreams. 

“Another day or so, most likely, sweetheart,” Shanks says and turns to press a kiss to the top of your head, “He left the same day I called.” 

Shanks had gotten in trouble with Mihawk for not telling the other man about his decision to call Tomura, but he couldn’t bring himself to care too much. The older man would keep you away from your brother if he had it his way, if only to avoid any awkward conversions, or a fight breaking out. The redhead can’t imagine that Delemur would be too happy to find out that his little sister had gotten knocked up by an ex-warlord and emperor of the sea. 

His eyes find their daughter and a smile lights up his face. Well, after Tomura meets his lovely niece, Shanks doesn’t see any kind of confrontation happening. Joyeuse had a smile that could melt the coldest man’s heart. 

----

Tomura is practically vibrating on the spot when he finally spots Sphinx in the distance. He had swapped out of his Vice-Admiral uniform and left the massive navy cruiser behind on their last stop at port. He didn’t want to show up on the island Whitebeard was born looking like he planned on starting something, especially since he knew that Newgate’s first mate now lived there. It was only himself and a few select members of his crew, the ones who Tomura knew wouldn’t breathe a word about this place. 

“Nervous, Vice-Admiral?” Nitchell asked. His commander was gripping the rails of the ship hard enough his knuckles had turned white, his face set into an even deeper scowl than usual. He gave a little shrug when Delemur cut his eyes at him, lips pulling into a frown. 

“My little sister has been in the company of dangerous pirates for the past two and a half years. Of course, I’m nervous,” He snaps at the younger man. Tomura had let his imagination run rampant. Were you still the darling sister that he doted on all those years ago, or had you changed into something harder? He almost didn’t want to find out. 

Delemur didn’t care that Shanks and Mihawk had told him that they loved you. That you had apparently become important to them. He was your big brother, so he would trust your word on the matter, and if you even looked uncomfortable in their presence then he would scoop you up and run. 

It felt like a lifetime had passed by the time they had docked and made it to shore. The tiny port town was bustling with locals going about their business, and only spared him and his men a passing glance. Shanks had told them that there would be someone waiting for them at the edge of town, but once he got there, he wasn't expecting to see Marco the Phoenix waiting for them.

“Vice-Admeral Delemur,” Marco drawls almost lazily. He doesn’t like seeing the navy man on his island, but he knows that Tomura is one of the better marines and most likely wouldn’t try to cause any trouble for the locals. They’d never officially met before, since Tomura had never ventured too far into Whitebeard’s territory. 

“Marco the Phoenix,” Tomura rumbled back, “Where’s my sister?” 

The pirate doctor quirks his lips and crosses his arms. “Just up the hill a ways. Are you ready?”  

Tomura swallows and dips his head in a nod, forcing his hands to stop shaking, “As I’ll ever be.” 

He orders his men to disperse within the town. Delemur didn’t want to overwhelm you with too many people, after all, before he followed Marco up the hill. They walk for a while, passing by homey cottages until they come to a house that faces the sea. It’s small, though bigger than the cottage Tomura remembers from your island and looks freshly painted. There is a big shaggy dog lounging on the porch that perks up whenever they get closer, brown eyes looking them over before he barks to get the attention of his humans inside. 

Tomura waits, and then the door opens. He can’t help but scowl when the redheaded emperor struts out followed by the smarmy ex-warlord, but the look on his face morphs into astonishment when you follow the two men out. He wants to close the distance between the two of you and wrap you up in a hug so tight that you’d never escape from. Instead, he stands frozen, looking at you like one might a ghost. 

You flick your eyes over the man, taking in that white hair that makes you ache, the familiar shape of his jaw, and the brilliant green of his eyes. There is a vertical scar on the right side of his mouth that you don’t remember being there before. There are dark bags under his eyes, and you wonder if your brother had gotten any sleep while traveling here. You step off the porch, thankful that you’ve healed enough in the past three weeks that it took for him to get here. 

“Tomura?’ you say quietly, and that’s all it takes for the dam to break. The man is striding forward in an instant, sweeping you up into a hug and you wrap your own arms around him, hugging your brother as tightly as you can. Snow sprouts around you, your devil fruit reacting to the surge of emotions that make your head spin. 

“Gods, princess, It’s good to see you,” Tomura rasps against your hair, and you tear up, the old nickname a soft reminder that makes tears well up in your eyes. Your brother plows on before you can even think about getting a word in. 

“After I heard those rumors about you I had to come back, had to make sure that you were safe, but none of us got there in time. Did they hurt you? Have they hurt you?” 

You pull away at that, not liking what Tomura was trying to insinuate, and shake your head at him, a frown on your lips. 

“I’m fine, Tomura. I was with Big Mom only a couple of days and Katakuri made sure that I was comfortable,” you assure him, and then look behind you at your boys who stand ready to intervene if need be, “And those two would never hurt me.” 

Tomura frowns down at you, brows creased, “They're pirates, princess, dangerous ones. You never should have met them to begin with.” 

Shanks steps up, his usual friendly aura replaced by one of annoyance. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea. He didn't think that Tomura would try and turn you against them, not that he thought it would work, mind you, but still, it chafed at the redhead. 

“Well, she did, so stop trying to make us out to be the bad guys. We're the ones who kept her company while you were too busy playing marine.” 

The tension in the air skyrocketed at that, and Tomura pulls his sister away from the redhead, stepping between them, “And she would have stayed safe if you'd not opened your fat mouth, you fuck.”

Mihawk narrows his eyes, about to step in and put a stop to his farce of a reunion, when you speak up, voice full of such disappointment that it makes his own heart race. 

“That is enough, Tomura. I wanted you here so that I could get to know you again, not so you could spit and argue like a damn cat. I might have stayed safe if Mihawk had never found me, but I would have stayed alone and hidden from the world until I died. You had twenty years to come and visit me, but you never did. You left me alone, stranded on that island with no one to talk to, no one to comfort me, and I was six! You don’t get to have a say in who I keep company with. You lost that privilege a long time ago.” 

Tomura stares at his little sister in shock, guilt eating at him. You weren’t wrong. He’d left you there and hadn’t even thought about paying you a visit, far too worried that the military would find out about you. Before he can try and defend himself, you soften and reach out to take his hand in your own, your fingers ice cold. 

“I don’t want to fight with you, big brother,” You say, and any ill intent that Tomura has deflated when you call him that, “I want to be a family, and you need to accept that they are a part of that.” 

Tomura takes a second to collect himself. It’s been over two decades, but he is still wrapped around your little finger. He deflates and smooths a hand over his face, giving you a weary smile that you return, “Okay, princess. No more fighting.” 

Mihawk saunters forward, taking up the space just behind you, “Glad to see that you’ve come to your senses, Vice-Admiral. Now, do you want to meet your niece or not?” 

You and Shanks cackle at the gob-smacked look that paints your brother’s face, only laughing harder when he looks at his sister for confirmation, and she nods her head, a smile stretching across her face. Marco steps up behind him and slaps his shoulder, grinning at the stunned man. 

“Don’t worry. You weren’t the only one surprised to know that these two powerhouses were having a baby. I’ll have to tell you about the first time Shanks tried to change her diaper.” 

Tomura grimaces at the imagery, and then he is being tugged inside the house, led through the living room, and to the nursery that’s been set up in the back. The room is painted a soft purple, and a rocking chair in the corner, and there, in the center of the room is a wooden bassinet. You lead him over to it, and Tomura stares down at the new member of his family. 

She is beautiful, her hair a fluffy red just a shade darker than her father’s, those eyes an exact copy of the ex-warlord’s, but everything else was you. Tomura still remembered what you looked like as a babe, the joy on mother's face when she had shown you to him for the first time. There would be no argument over who her parents would be. 

“What’s her name?” He asks and reaches out, trailing his fingertips over the red fluff of her hair, and smiling when the babe gurgles at him. 

“Joyeuse,” you murmur beside him, and lean into his side, your hand joining his own, “Mihawk came up with it.” 

“It’s a fitting name,” Tomura says, and you beam at your big brother. It gladdened you to see that Joy already had her uncle wrapped around her pinky. You knew that any bad blood between him and your lovers would settle in time, though you could still foresee some tense moments happening. But even with the tension, having your brother here makes you happy, your family finally all together. 

----

The next couple of weeks are filled with getting to know your brother again, and after a while, Tomura grudgingly begins to get along with Shanks and Mihawk. The three men could be found playing cards with some of the redhead’s crew on lazy days, you watching from the front porch and entertaining Joyeuse with your devil fruit. However, at some point, Tomura needs to leave, to go back to the navy. 

Joyeuse had cried that day on the docks when your family had gathered to say goodbye to her uncle, and you had given him a teary-eyed hug, the babe pressed between the two of you. 

“I promise to visit, princess,” Tomura swears quietly and presses a kiss to Joy’s brow who fusses and scowls up at him like it was his fault that she was upset. 

“You better,” You grumble at him, and then he is pulling away with a wave of his hand. You watched him board the small ship he’d arrived on, and then he was gone, disappearing as the waves pushed him further away from you. 

Mihawk steps close behind you, his hand coming up to cup your waist as he bends to press a kiss to the side of your head, “He’ll be back, my love.” 

You press into his side with a sigh, “I know. I just miss him already.” 

The ex-warlord hums and leads you back through town and up the hill to home where Shanks is waiting for the three of them. Perona takes Joyeuse, assuring them that she can keep the babe entertained while they have some alone time. Tomura wasn’t the only one who would need to leave soon. 

You find Shanks packing a small bag in the bedroom, and your heart lurches at the knowledge that the redhead had to leave as well. Benn had gotten a call last week, and some of the islands under their protection had been raided by an upstart pirate crew thinking that they had found easy pickings. Shanks and his crew were to leave the next morning to go take care of the other pirates. It would be the first time that the redhead would be gone for more than a few hours. 

Shanks smiles when he spots you and stands, opening his arm for you to fall into his side, pressing your face into his chest. Mihawk sits on the bed, watching his two lovers with heavy eyes. He did not wish for Shanks to leave, either, but he knew that with being an emperor, Shanks would always have a responsibility to the people that he claimed under his flag. 

They were still working on finding proper accommodations for you and Joyeuse to call home. While Sphinx was peaceful, you weren’t a fan of the history behind it. Even though it stayed a poor island, people far and wide on the Grand Line would come to visit the island where Edward Newgate was born. He had hoped that Shanks would find a suitable island to stay at.

“I don’t want you to go,” You whine softly against the redhead and clutch him tightly. Everything was perfect right now. You and Joy were safe where you could lavish in your boys’ attention whenever you wanted, and the three of you had just grown closer over the weeks that you were all together.

Shanks sighs and pulls you over to the bed where he flops back, taking you with him and laying his head on Mihawk’s thigh. The other man cards a hand through that red hair, gently scratching his scalp with blunt nails. You shift so that you are draped over him, your face tucked into the crook of his neck. 

“I know baby, and I wouldn’t if this wasn’t important,” Shanks murmurs softly. He hates that he has to leave you right after your brother, but he can’t let some rando pirate crew think that they could encroach on his territory, “You’ll have Mihawk to keep you company, though, and Perona.” 

You know that Mihawk and the pinkette would be here, but it doesn’t make you any less upset that Shanks has to go. You’ve gotten used to having everyone around you, and it hurts to see them leave. You feel him adjust under you, his lips finding the side of your throat and nipping the sensitive skin there lightly. You shiver and rise up to see Shanks looking at you with half-lidded dark eyes, a mischievous smirk on his face, “How about I give you something to remember me by while I’m gone, sweetheart?” 

You flush, heat burning your lower stomach, and you move to sit up, eager for his attention. This was the first time that you’d have the chance to be intimate with either man, for if it wasn’t Tomura stealing your attention, then it was Joyeuse crying for you. You hadn’t minded either, but it had left little time for the three of you to have any kind of alone time. 

“Please?”

Shanks shuffles off of Mihawk so that he lays at the head of the bed. His cock is already hard and aching for you, and he quickly shucks his pants off with an excited grin. The other man shifts to lay on his side, content with watching his two lovers play with one another. You stand to strip off your pants and shirt before you shuffle back up the bed, thighs pressing in on either side of Shanks’ hips. You lean down, lips meeting the redhead's with a soft sigh. 

His tongue presses forward, stroking against your lips and you happily open up for him, tongue meeting his own in a dance of slick muscles. His hand grips your hip, pulling you down as he rocks up into your awaiting heat. You groan and nip his bottom lip, pulling away to smirk down at your lover.  

“Ride his face, darling,” Mihawk rumbles beside the two of you, and you shudder at the thought, pussy clenching around nothing. Shanks makes an eager sound and shuffles a bit down the bed so that you would have more room. Carefully, you scoot forward, knees resting around his head as you hover over him. Mihawk leans forward to watch, eyes bright with interest when Shanks curls his arm around your hip and jerks you down.

“Sit, baby. I'm not gonna break,” Shanks rumbles and you gasp when he licks up your folds, tongue swirling around your clit and making you see stars. Your hands grip the bed frame, head hanging low as your hips snap forward, seeking that delicious pleasure. The redhead groans, pointing his tongue so that he can pierce your leaking cunt. 

The ex-warlord watches in rapt attention, watching Shanks tongue fuck you, watching the way you shake and shiver above the emperor, back arching from pleasure when the redhead suctions his lips around your clit and sucks harshly. You wail, thighs shaking as you come from the suddenness of it, slick coating your folds that Shanks happily licks away with a whine of his own. 

You pull away from the redhead when it becomes too much, and thankfully Shanks allows it. You shift back down the bed, taking his aching length in hand and stroking it from base to tip, free hand pressing against his chest as you lift yourself and then slide down with a hiss through clenched teeth, stuffing yourself with his cock. You don't give yourself much time to adjust, the sting of his girth still present when you roll your hips, groaning when he slips that much deeper. 

“That's it darling rock your hips, make him come undone,” Mihawk rumbles to your left, and you dip your head in a distracted nod, your legs and core working to bounce you up and down the pulsing length inside of you. You crack your eyes open, looking down to see the redhead reach out to grip your hip, his teeth clenched shut as if he was holding himself back from taking control. 

“Fuck, baby,” Shanks croons and he adjusts his legs, scooting his feet up to put you at an angle so that he can snap his hips up, making you gasp and whine when the tip of his cock nudges against that sensitive deep inside of you. He feels you clench around him, feather-soft walls fluttering around his cock and dragging him deeper when you bend forward, resting your brow against his collarbone. He wraps his arm around your lower back, keeping you close as he pistons his hips up, slamming home at a breakneck pace until you are crying out, clenching and shuttering against him as you come. 

Shanks isn't far behind, teeth bared in a snarl, and he pushes as deep as he can go, spilling inside of you and filling your cunt to the brim. You are panting above him, brow furrowed as you slowly sit up, bracing yourself with a hand on his chest. You feel hands gently pushing your hair away from your sweaty brow, and give Mihawk a weak, sappy little grin in return. Carefully, you crawl off your lover and fall to the side with a grunt, your body feeling rung out and exhausted. Shanks rolls so that he can cuddle against you, and Mihawk eases from the bed, a satisfied smirk on his face at seeing his darlings curled up together. 

---

Three weeks after Shanks leaves, you and Mihawk are out on the front porch enjoying cups of steaming tea while Joyeuse naps, when he hears his snail transponder ringing. The two of you share a look, one bemused and the other annoyed before the ex-warlord sighs heavily and stands to go and retrieve the transponder before it wakes Joyeuse. He doesn’t answer the phone until he is back outside, leg crossed over the other. 

Ca-lick

“Mihawk speaking.”

“Mihawk, it’s Crocodile. I heard what happened to your island, bad business that.” 

You perk up, brows going to your hairline as you listen in on the conversation. Mihawk cocks a brow at the transponder. Out of everyone who could have called, he hadn’t expected his fellow ex-warlord to be one of them. 

“Yes, it was rather unfortunate. I was fond of the place, but luckily I wasn’t there when the navy raided the island. Is there a reason why you’re calling?” 

They hear Crocodile laugh on the other end, and then the sound of a strangled squawk that sounds oddly familiar. 

“No beating around the bush with you, eh Hawkeye. Anyway, with the warlords being disbanded, it’s come to my attention that you and I are one in the same. Neither of us trusts easily, so I think that it would be beneficial for us to work together.”

You look at Mihawk in slight alarm. While you weren’t about to ban him from doing what he wanted, you refused to put your daughter into harm's way, and working with Crocodile sounded like it would bring more attention to you and yours than you wanted. Mihawk catches your look and waves a hand, silently telling you to calm down, which you scowl at. 

“And why would I even want to consider that?” 

Crocodile huffs on the other end, the snail rolling its eyes. 

“To create our perfect utopia, of course. The Navy wouldn’t take an organization headed by us lightly. After all, they used to call you ‘Marine Hunter’.” 

Mihawk huffs at the usage of the old name. It’s been years since he had gone by that title, but he can’t deny that the other man speaks the truth. They would make a very formidable pair even without the influence Shanks would inevitably have, “I have better things to do than play at being leader to some ramshackle organization, Crocodile. All I desire is a peaceful life, you know this.” 

“And that’s what the clown is for. He’s been made emperor, so we already have a figurehead to fall back on if things don’t go our way. I’ve got it all planned out.” 

In the back ground they hear another squawk, and this time a voice comes through. 

“Don’t listen to this maniac, Hawkeye! He’s crazy!” 

You can’t help but snort at the sudden interruption, eyes going wide, and you can’t help but wonder if this clown is the same one that Shanks likes to talk about. You couldn’t deny that you wanted to meet him, especially since he was connected to one of your boys.

“Oh, have I interrupted something, Hawkeye?” 

There is a teasing edge to the other man’s voice, and Mihawk narrows his eyes at the snail transponder, “You have actually. I-”

Crocodile cuts him off. 

“This something must be why you continued to disappear for weeks at a time, hmm? Rumors spread like wildfire, Hawkeye, and I’ve heard all about the woman you and Red-Haired Shanks absconded with. Quite the scandal, really.”  

Your heart goes still in your chest, and you share a wide-eyed look with your lover. You knew that it was a possibility that your presence would become more prominent, your lover's were very prominent people after all, but you didn't think it would be so soon. It's only been three months since they found you, and Joy was only around nine weeks. Why couldn't this have come up later, maybe when Joy wasn't an infant? You tune back in when Crocodile speaks again. 

“I'm not threatening you, Hawkeye. I'm simply stating that if I know, then surely the Navy knows as well. What's the saying? Strength in numbers and all that.” 

Mihawk is silent, expression shuddering into a furious expression that makes you shiver. It's rare that anything gets under the ex-warlord’s skin, and this obviously has. He can tell that he is being manipulated by the other man, but at the same time, Crocodile has given nothing but good points so far. As much as he would like, he wouldn't be able to stay here indefinitely, there were still things that he was responsible for, and that would leave you alone. Which was unacceptable after the last time you were left alone. Would he rather risk you being taken again, this time you and his daughter, or would he rather be surrounded by like-minded individuals who would most likely keep the two of you safe? 

Before he can come up with an answer, Crocodile speaks up, tone unusually soft and understanding. 

“Think about it, Hawkeye. You have my number once you come to a decision.”

Ca-lick

The silence is deafening between you, and you bite your lip to keep yourself from saying anything when Mihawk stands, drops the snail, and begins to pace back and forth. You watch him, leg jiggling in anxiousness, and you want more than anything to ask if he is okay, but anyone at that moment could tell that the answer would be no. You are tempted to go inside and retrieve Joyeuse, just to bring yourself some comfort with her soft skin and grabby hands, but the babe doesn't deserve to be in the middle of whatever this is. 

Mihawk is currently in the throes of a mental war. This… organization would keep you and Joyeuse safe, if he was willing to trust Crocodile, Buggy the Clown of all people. Which, granted, he was more inclined to trust the clown on the principle of him having grown up with Shanks on Roger's crew. They were brothers, and if there was one person that Buggy wouldn't betray, it was the redhead. 

But would you be okay with moving to an island filled with unknown pirates? Surrounded by criminals who most likely came from Impel Down? He didn't like the thought of it, but at least there would be others beside him there that could offer you protection, offer you companionship beyond what he and Shanks could provide. It'd also have the added bonus of pissing your brother off, and Mihawk lived for that. 

“Mihawk?” 

Your voice cuts through his internal conflict, and he turns to you, marching forward and kneeling at your side, taking both your hands in his own, “Darling, what do you think?” 

You chew your lip, brow furrowed in thought. Would it be something bad to be surrounded by other people? To have a community, that safety in numbers like Crocodile mentioned? You didn't know, but there wouldn't be a final decision until Shanks was in the know, too.

“Call Shanks. I want his opinion. He's talked about Buggy before, so I'm inclined to trust him, but I don't know anything about Crocodile.”

Mihawk reaches over and snags the snail, rattling off the number for Shanks. It doesn’t take long for the redhead to answer.

Ca-lick

“Mihawk? Everything okay?” 

Mihawk rolls his eyes and shares a fond look with you at the concern the two of you can hear in the emperor’s voice. 

“Everything is fine, Red. Something has come up, however, and we needed to speak with you about it.” 

You listen as Mihawk tells him about Crocodile calling him and the offer to head this organization with the other ex-warlord. He makes sure to mention that Buggy was there in the background but hadn’t said much on account of Crocodile hogging the call. Shanks is quiet on the other end, and if they were with him, you would see the excitement that lingered in his eyes. 

To Shanks, to know that the man, who was his brother in everything but blood, becoming part of his steadily growing family was something that he didn’t realize that he even wanted. 

“Well, I don't think it's a bad idea. I trust Buggy, and Crocodile has always had a soft spot for children. I think it should be up to _, though. She'd be the one alone with them when neither of us can be there.” 

You swallow harshly and then put on a brave face. If Shanks thought it wasn't a bad idea, and Mihawk seemed rather fond of it anyway, then the least you could do was try. 

“I- okay. If that's what you two think is best. I trust my boys to make the right call for me and Joyeuse,” you say and squeeze Mihawk's hand, sending him a tight-lipped smile. 

“We wouldn't do anything to put either of you in danger, baby. I think this will be good for all of us.” 

It certainly took a weight off of Shanks to know that someone he trusted would be able to look after you when he or Mihawk wasn't there with you. And for as much damage Crocodile had done to Luffy when the strawhats had made it to Alabasta, the ex-warlord had helped him escape Impel Down and even protected the boy he cared so much for during the Summit War. 

“He's right for once, darling. If you are ever uncomfortable or don't feel safe enough, then we'll find somewhere else,” Mihawk murmurs and ignores the indignant Hey! on the other end of the line. 

You laugh, easily imagining the pout that Shanks is no doubt wearing. You feel more relaxed at your decision now that you've spoken to both of them more about this, the easy teasing between the three of you settling something in your chest. You talk with Shanks and while longer, the redhead tells you about how easily he'd dealt with the upstart pirates and how he would most likely be home in the next week. 

After Shanks hangs up, Mihawk dials Crocodile's transponder snail. While you listen to them talk, you feel like this is a new chapter in your life, a new beginning to share with your boys and the little girl they have given you. You couldn't wait to see what happened next.

@writingmysanity @djbumblebee @goth-mami-writer @myradiaz @fluffybunnyu @bookandstar @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff @anastasiyax @jaguarthecat @atricksterwithwings @black-swan-blog27 @breadedloafs @enpvrirnce @gottalovethefandom @mfreedomstuff @caniseethefourthsword @olenoname @glitterystarfishfestival

[azelsdoormat]

Azel Radwan Main Story

► Chapter 2

This translation is fanmade and strictly for entertainment purposes only. All media and original content belong to Cybird. Do not use, claim as your own, repost or reupload onto other platforms, reblogs are welcome.

After leaving Tanzanite’s port, we travelled by carriage along a well-maintained road. 

The scenery gradually began to lose its greenery and water, transitioning into a dry and sandy desert.

…

(... It’s hotter than I imagined.) 

(But it's so exciting because I’ll never experience this back in Rhodolite!) 

Partway through our journey, we switched to camels which were the go-to mode of transport in the desert and continued down an unmarked path. 

While I couldn't see any visible roads, our guides Basil and Kamal were confident in leading the way. 

As I took regular sips of water and enjoyed my first-ever desert experience, scattered remnants of ruins began appearing.

Emma: What are these…?

Basil: A former city. Ahead lies the original Primordial Sanctuary. 

Emma: “Primordial Sanctuary”? 

Basil: It refers to the sanctuary in which the gods reside. 

Basil: Due to the deterioration of the original structure, the sanctuary has since been relocated near the royal court… 

Basil: But where we’re headed to right now is the residence of the “First Living God”. 

(Specifying “first” would mean that there have been multiple Living Gods up till now.)

Basil: His Holiness Azel prefers to live in the weathered ruins of the Primordial Sanctuary. 

Emma: Is it even… habitable?

Basil: I’m glad you asked! 

Basil: Normally, it would be inhabitable. But once you lay your eyes on it, you’ll see the greatness of His Holiness Azel, and by the way— 

Before Basil could start rambling away again, Kamal threw the hair ornament she was wearing straight at him. 

(That looks painful…) 

But the way Basil caught the ornament with a calm smile showed that this was a common occurrence.

Basil: Ah, look over there! That’s the Primordial Sanctuary, where His Holiness Azel resides. 

Following Basil’s words, the sandstorm cleared and— 

Standing there was a isolated castle in the middle of the desert, far larger than I imagined. 

Emma: Wow… 

I gasped as I stared in awe at the fortress that exuded a presence unique to Tanzanite, a symbol of its long history. 

Its outer walls, as eroded as the other ruins we had passed by earlier, looked as though they were on the verge of crumbling apart. 

However, upon taking a closer look, there were some visible traces of repair works done. 

(There really is a god living here…)

Emma: What an interesting structure.

Akatsuki: Looks rundown.

Emma: Owner! 

Akatsuki: It’s the truth.

Basil: That’s because it's over 1000 years old.

Emma: 1000 years!? 

(Amazing… it’s a miracle that the structure is still intact after all those years.)

(I wonder how much history this isolated castle has witnessed.)

We dismounted the camels and stepped into the sanctuary.

The sand beneath our feet gave way to reveal a stone pavement, and the air seemed to cool slightly thanks to the surrounding structures. 

???: Thank you for taking the trouble to come all the way out to such a remote location. 

A gentle, compassionate, yet unfamiliar voice was heard. It was neither Basil, Kamal, nor the Owner.

And the moment I heard it— 

[ Flashback ]

???: Why do you yearn for love?

[ Flashback End ]

It felt like I was looking at an illusion.

(... Just now—) 

I tightly shut my eyes in an attempt to shake off the vision. 

When I snapped back to reality, I saw a figure standing in the distance.

His hair glistened under the sunlight, and his eyes were strikingly beautiful even from afar.

Despite it being in the middle of the day, that person somehow reminded me of a full moon. 

He approached us with gentle footsteps, wearing a pure and benevolent smile on his face. 

Emma: Oh!

Akatsuki: Something wrong?

Emma: … Nothing.

(I knew it. I’ve seen this person before.) 

(I can't seem to remember when or where we met.) 

Although I couldn't recall, there was no doubt that he was the living god of the land of divination and illusions, the person Basil referred to as “His Holiness Azel”.

(... His eyes are so beautiful, it's otherworldly.) 

(I was skeptical about it until I got here, but he really does look like a god.) 

Azel: That will do, the two of you. I appreciate your efforts.

(Come to think of it, it’s been a while since I last heard Basil’s voice.) 

I turned around to see Basil’s eyes shining brighter than the sun behind his glasses, overflowing with devotion and worship.

Next to him, Kamal put an arm around his neck and started dragging him away.

(... He looks like he’s being choked, but I guess he’ll be alright.)

Azel: My apologies. Akatsuki, have you brought the items I requested?

Akatsuki: Emma. 

Emma: Y-yes.

(Right, my baggage.) 

I set down the baggage that was lighter than the Owner’s usual load and took out several books that were placed near the top of the pile. 

Before we left Rhodolite, I was entrusted with the task of delivering those. 

When I handed them to Azel, I was drawn in by his sympathising and affectionate smile. 

Azel: Thank you very much, those must have been heavy.

Emma: No, not at all. Thank you for placing your order with us.

Azel: The pleasure is mine. I genuinely appreciate you for fulfilling my unreasonable requests, Akatsuki and Emma.

(Wait, he knows my name?)

(... Maybe the Owner told him before?)

Azel: Where did you go to make your purchases this time? 

Akatsuki: Achroite. 

Azel: Ah, that country is indeed a treasure trove of academic literature.

Akatsuki: This is the 100th time you’ve ordered a book of a similar genre. You never tire of them.

Azel: That is because they are necessary.

Emma: Does Your Holiness have an interest in astronomy?

The books I handed over to Azel were old academic papers about the moon and the stars.

(I read through them because they needed some restoration work, but the contents were too complex to understand.) 

Azel: I am not the only one. All who perform divinations in Tanzanite have great interest in the sky. 

Azel: Reading the stars is the most fundamental part of divination in our country, after all. 

Emma: Reading the stars…?

Azel: So-called “astrology”. Although the popular method used here is one that is unique to Tanzanite.

Emma: Wow, I didn't know Tanzanite had its own unique methods… as expected from the country of divination.

Azel: Isn't it? 

For a brief moment — Azel’s benevolent smile seemed to twist into a more enigmatic expression.

Azel: I could read your fortune for you if you’re interested. 

Azel: Please, allow me to repay you for going out of your way to come to a place like this. 

(The living god’s divinations—) 

[ Flashback ]

Akatsuki: His divinations are infallible. Like clairvoyance, they’re never wrong and the people are crazy about them.

Akatsuki: Even now, the people of Tanzanite could be witnessing the miracles brought to them by their god.

[ Flashback End ]

(I’m not sure if it's really okay for me to accept his kind offer… but I’m honestly curious about my future.)

I snuck a glance at the Owner, who gave me an encouraging nod.

Emma: If it's not too much of a hassle… may I take you up on your offer? 

Azel: Certainly. However, because I am a god, my divination methods are rather different.

Azel: Instead of using your horoscope, I will be directly reading the star you possess.

Emma: The star I…? 

Azel: It is something invisible to the eyes of ordinary people that only I can see. 

(That makes sense… I can’t really imagine it, but it wouldn't be surprising if those eyes of his were really capable of seeing extraordinary things.) 

Azel: It will only be a simple divination, but what would you like to know?

Emma: In that case, I’d like to know the luck I have with romance. 

Azel: … I figured you’d ask for that.

(Did his facial expression just twitch or… am I imagining things?) 

Those mystical eyes that resembled a night sky full of stars seemed to peer right into the depths of my soul, unravelling my innermost secrets.

Azel: Let me see…

Azel: I recommend that you give up on romance. 

Emma: Is it that bad!? 

Azel: Yes, it appears that you have horrible luck with men. What a pity. 

Azel: I see a future wherein you fall in love with an evil man, get exploited for money, and are treated like a slave.

(The living god’s divinations are said to be infallible… ughh…) 

Azel: However, divination is, after all, purely a divination.

Azel: Regardless of what I say, despite my status as a god, your future is ultimately yours to shape. 

(So whether the results are good or bad, everything depends on my actions.)

Emma: Thank you. I’ll bear your advice in mind.

Azel: Fufu… 

Azel: —... An easy target.

(...? I didn't quite catch that, but…)

Azel’s benevolent smile returned to his face before he shifted his gaze from me to the Owner. 

Azel: The two of you will be staying in Tanzanite for some time, am I right?

Akatsuki: Yeah. I want a peddling permit this time too.

Azel: That has already been arranged. I have also arranged for guest rooms to be prepared for you at the royal palace, so please take your time to relax. 

(Guest rooms in… the palace!?) 

Akatsuki: Thank you for taking care of us every visit.

(He does this every single time!?)

Azel: No, no, it is nothing to thank me for.

(... This definitely doesn't look like “nothing” to me, though.)

Azel: You are an outstanding book merchant indispensable to me… 

Azel fixed his eyes onto me. 

Azel: I will have many more opportunities to rely on you too, Emma. 

Azel: I look forward to your continued support in the future. 

With the living god watching over us, we left the temple and walked through the sand towards the city visible in the distance. 

…

We passed through bustling streets worthy of being tourist destinations… 

… and arrived at a palace with a different kind of splendor from the one in Rhodolite. 

Waiting for us was a lavish feast filled with the desert’s local delicacies.

In the impressively huge dance hall where the moon looked like it was only within an arm's reach, many other people were gathered. 

They appeared to be Tanzanite’s nobles and royalty, making it look like a party. 

I was captivated by the dancers performing on a stage at the center of the hall.

(Ballroom dancing is standard in Rhodolite…) 

(But in Tanzanite, it seems that inviting dancers to perform is the norm.) 

While I was fascinated by everything happening around me, a hand reached out to me from behind and tapped me on the shoulder.

Clavis: I didn't expect to see you guys here at the palace. How lucky indeed.

Luke: What so lucky about that? Don’t go around causing any trouble.

Luke: No, actually, cause trouble if you want, but don't drag Emma and I into it. 

Emma: Fufu, I guessed as much… I had a feeling I’d run into you and Clavis here. 

(These two remain the same as ever, even in a foreign country.) 

A lady dressed in beautiful dancers’ attire served us drinks. 

It was a refreshing liquor made from fruits.

Clavis and Luke, despite being highly honoured guests of the country, were served the same drinks with no difference in treatment. 

(For us mere merchants to be treated the same way as royalty…)

(It shows how important the stay permits granted by the living god are.) 

(And how high is god’s status in this country.) 

Clavis: By the way, Emma, I heard you met the living god. What was your first impression of them? 

Clavis casually handed his glass of liquor to Luke and picked up a nearby water vessel. 

(He had an aura that made me almost instinctively feel closer to him, but—) 

Emma: He’s more benevolent and kind than I expected. 

Clavis took a sip of water and chuckled.

Clavis: … Haha. I see, I see. So you’re the type of woman who’d easily fall into a con artist's trap.

Emma: Con artist? 

Clavis: Oh, my apologies. But it surprised me. You’re the current “Belle” who’s supposedly adept at determining 

Clavis: … No, rather, perhaps it was precisely because you “saw through him” that you had that impression of him?

Clavis: Hmm, how fascinating. I wonder which one of us is the one seeing an illusion.

(From the way Clavis says it, could the benevolent and kind living god have another side to him?) 

???: Pardon my interruption, Clavis and Luke.

A cheerful voice joined the conversation, it belonged to a silver-haired man dressed luxuriously. 

Clavis: Enis. Allow me to thank you once again for hosting such a splendid banquet.

Enis: Think nothing of it. It’s only natural to properly entertain guests from foreign countries.

Enis: More importantly, I don't think I’ve met the lady standing next to Akatsuki… 

Scrambling to recall the etiquette lessons drilled into me during my time as Belle, I greeted him politely.

Clavis: This is Emma. She currently works as a merchant, but she was the former Belle of Rhodolite.

Enis: Oh…? That means she’s the woman with the most beautiful heart in Rhodolite, correct?

Clavis: Haha, you’re very knowledgeable.

Enis: I happen to enjoy reading history books from various countries.

The noble yet approachable man extended to me, who was only an ordinary merchant, his attitude remained unchanged. 

The handshake conveyed his good-natured personality.

Enis: I’m the King of Tanzanite. However, please feel free to treat me casually. I’m not fond of formalities. 

(This person is… the KING!?) 

(Although not as young as the newly crowned King of Rhodolite, but he’s still rather youthful.

Enis: You’re guests of His Holiness the living god. Don’t hesitate to let me know if you encounter any troubles. 

Emma: Thank you. I deeply appreciate your generosity.

I accepted his words with a smile, careful to conceal my surprise. My behaviour caused Enis to slightly widen his eyes in response.

Enis: I heard that Belle is chosen amongst commoners, but your conduct is impeccable. It’s hard to believe you’re not of noble descent. 

Enis: You must’ve worked very hard to achieve this. Please, do relax and enjoy your time in Tanzanite.

Perhaps not wanting to intrude on our conversation any further, the King quickly walked away after giving us a few kind words. 

Emma: … His Majesty seems like a kind person.

Luke: He’s exactly the type of person you should be wary of, Emma.  

Clavis: I heard he has ten wives in his harem. 

Emma: T-ten!?

Clavis: Some of them are from foreign countries too. 

Luke: In other words…

Clavis and Luke placed a hand on each of my shoulders.

Clavis: This is where your bodyguards come in. 

Luke: If anyone tries to make a move on you, I’ll knock their lights out on Rio’s behalf.

Akatsuki: I’ll kill them before that.

Emma: You guys are just overthinking, okay!? 

(It’s not exactly unusual for kings to have multiple wives, but…)

I suddenly thought of the isolated castle in the desert. 

The one that displayed no signs of being inhabited by anyone besides the living god. 

(I wonder if… god has someone he loves.) 

…

(... Huh?) 

(It’s this place again…) 

Azel: Good evening. I wanted to see you. 

[spacebabesuki]

Midnight Love — Hellcheer New Year's Eve

Eddie Munson was officially on the verge of a meltdown. He was leaning against the corner of Steve Harrington’s living room, gripping a red plastic cup filled with drink as the chaos of the New Year's Eve party swirled around him.

The loud music, the laughter, and the chatter filled the air, along with the sparkle of flashing lights, confetti on the floor, and balloons hanging from gold and silver curtains that seemed to float.

But for Eddie, all of that was just a blur. Because, right there, on the other side of the room, was Chrissy Cunningham.

She was wearing a short light pink dress that seemed to glow with its own magic under the twinkling lights. Her blonde-red hair fell in soft waves, ending in perfectly defined curls that resembled honey springs. Her eyes sparkled with a shimmering gleam, and her flushed cheeks seemed almost to match her lips, pink and inviting, glistening with a shine that left him breathless.

Eddie felt that every time he looked at her, Chrissy became even more beautiful, and the effect was almost suffocating.

"You’re pale." Robin’s familiar voice snapped him out of his trance. She appeared at his side, grinning conspiratorially. "Like, really pale. I can see the drool dripping, Munson. If I were her, I would’ve already filed for a restraining order."

"You scared the hell out of me!" he clutched his chest, terrified of being caught in the act. "What are you talking about?" Eddie tried to cover up, looking away, but his hands were shaking so badly that he almost spilled the beer in his red cup.

Robin gave him a knowing, sarcastic look, as if to say "seriously?"

He sighed, defeated. "Is it that obvious?"

"As clear as day. And embarrassing as hell, too, Munson." Robin laughed, rolling her eyes before nudging him with her elbow.

"Damn it." Eddie scratched his face, feeling the weight of embarrassment.

He didn’t even know why he had come to this party. He was invited because, over the last year, he had gotten closer to everyone thanks to the "kid" — aka Dustin — and because Robin was his coworker at the video store. But, above all, it was because he knew Chrissy would be here. He’d gotten that information out of Robin, of course, but she wasn’t stupid — not as stupid as him, at least.

"Every time she shows up at the video store, you act like the Tasmanian Devil from Looney Tunes. I can practically picture you spinning around like a complete idiot. It’s embarrassing, but…" Robin paused dramatically.

"Fuck it. I don’t know what I’m doing here. I don’t know what I was thinking."

Nervously, Eddie dropped the red cup aimlessly, trying to turn and leave, desperate, embarrassed, terrified Chrissy had already noticed and thought he was an idiot, just like Robin probably thought. After all, Robin knew girls like no one else... oh, how well she knew them.

"I’m outta here."

Just coming here and looking at her was enough... at least he’d have something to dream about tonight.

"Hey, dumbass, get back here!" Robin yanked him back by the arm, laughing. "I was just about to say that it’s actually kinda cute."

Eddie stopped dead in his tracks, completely thrown off. He’d never imagined anyone could think that about him—especially in the context of Chrissy Cunningham. Him, Eddie Munson, the most unlikely guy in town, thinking he had a shot with Chrissy? He had even gone so far as to steal a black shirt from Uncle Wayne and try to fix his hair. He’d left half of his rings at home just to look more presentable. But who was he fooling? Nothing would ever be enough for him to be good enough for Chrissy.

"Oh, shit. Fuck it. So what? It’s Chrissy Cunningham. As if... ah, fuck it."

He gestured nervously, disturbed, while Robin laughed at his state. It was stupid, but cute. She’d known since the first day she met him that there were only two things running through Eddie Munson’s dumb mind: Metallica and Chrissy Cunningham.

"Why are men so dumb?" Robin commented, her voice raspy from the alcohol, but still carrying a smile. "Eddie, I always knew you were stupid, but damn, you’re even dumber than I thought."

"Am I?" He frowned.

"Dude, she broke up with Jason Carver because of you. Nine months ago, when you helped her in that forest. After that, she goes to the video store four times a week. Know who else does that? No one." Robin crossed her arms, exasperated. "I thought she kept coming back because you're an idiot who doesn't even blink around her, giving her all the tapes for free and ending up broke at the end of the month. But last year? She only went there once. Now, suddenly, she's a loyal customer? And what else does she do there, besides giving you those little smiles for the dumb shit you say? I think she doesn't even have any more movies to rent, but she keeps coming back.

Eddie blinked, even more confused. Robin continued.

"She invited you to a basketball game, and you didn’t go, but you were staring through the window like a freak. And you really think she doesn’t like you? Are you really that stupid? Are you really that much of an idiot? I was confused too at first, wondering what kind of shit this girl has in her brain to be interested in a dumbass like you, but apparently..."

Eddie blinked, Robin's words slowly starting to sink in.

"That doesn’t mean anything. It’s... it’s Chrissy Cunningham, for fuck's sake!" He took the cup to his lips and downed the rest of the drink in one gulp. "She literally dated Jason Carver, the guy who gets everything in life. And I’m..." He gestured to himself, as if that would explain everything.

“You’re Eddie Munson, and that’s why she likes you. Why? I have no idea, honestly. But now you’re going to go talk to her before I push you over there.” Robin crossed her arms, challenging him.

Eddie started shaking his head, the nervous tremor growing.

“No, are you crazy? I’m not going over there. No way.” He looked around, searching for an escape route.

“You need to rip off the Band-Aid already,” Robin insisted, pointing to Chrissy on the other side of the room.

“This isn’t ripping off a Band-Aid, Robin!” Eddie exclaimed, gesturing frantically. “It’s like sticking a damn stake in me! Impaling me in public! No, I’m not going. If I do... she’ll never look at me again.”

“Or maybe she’ll look at you every single day... or kiss that stupid face of yours every single day. Ever thought about that?” Robin raised an eyebrow, teasing him.

For a brief moment, Eddie lost himself in the idea, but quickly shook his head, as if trying to shake the thought out of his mind.

“No, no way. She’s like... Aphrodite, and I’m... I don’t know, the Hunchback of Notre-Dame. I’m not going over there. I’m not falling for your delusional girl talk. I know what’s up. You just want to humiliate me so you can laugh at me later, don’t you?”

Robin rolled her eyes dramatically, trying to hold onto her patience.

“Fine, idiot. Stay here, don’t listen to me, and let that asshole Brian Slagel steal her from you just because you’re too much of a coward to do anything.”

Robin pointed with her chin toward Brian, who was clearly eyeing Chrissy and making suggestive gestures as his friends laughed.

Eddie froze. His chest tightened, the same feeling he'd had for years, ever since the middle school talent show, when he’d wanted to die every time he saw Chrissy in the halls with Jason Carver. And then she broke up with Jason, and Eddie was sure that was the happiest day of his life... but now... shit, another rich, asshole jock was already eyeing her.

Of course, someone like Brian Slagel would be eyeing Chrissy too. Everyone would. Why wouldn’t they? She was perfect, untouchable. Eddie knew that. Of course, there was a line of guys waiting for her, and he was at the very end of that line—if he was even on the list at all. Maybe, in an apocalyptic scenario, or if they were the last two survivors on a deserted island, she might pick him. That was the kind of thought he let slip in his more fantastical daydreams.

"This girl is crazy about you, Eddie. Really crazy. Want to bet? Twenty bucks that, if you go talk to her now, she'll be giving you all those little smiles." Robin stared at him seriously. "Go, now. Take the chance while she's alone. She's out of place, don’t you notice? She doesn’t know anyone here except us. And you’re just standing here, letting her be alone."

"She came because you invited her!" Eddie shot back defensively, as if that was an argument that could win him any points.

"I invited her to help you, you idiot!" Robin threw her hands up in exasperation. "I couldn’t stand her coming to the video store every day, hanging around for an hour just listening to your nonsense and pretending to be interested in your crappy recommendations, waiting for you to grow the balls to ask her out. Eddie, she’s the most popular girl in Hawkins. She could be at any New Year’s party, one of those fancy ones we’d only get into if we threatened someone. But she’s here. She came here, even though she doesn’t know almost anyone, just because she knew you’d be here. She came because of you, you’re an idiot, don’t you get it? And now, you’re just going to leave her there, all alone, and not even talk to her?"

Eddie felt the weight of Robin's words. Maybe she was right. Maybe Chrissy really had come because of him. And maybe... just maybe... he wasn’t as unlikely as he thought.

Eddie stared at the space between him and Chrissy as if it were an impossible chasm to cross. She was there, alone, and for a moment, it felt like the entire world had stopped. But before he could make a decision—or come up with an excuse to run—Robin shoved him hard, pulling him out of his stupor.

"Go! Go over there and say your nonsense to her and make her smile!" Robin said, her patience already running thin. "She's been looking at you all night, you idiot!"

Robin knew girls. He didn’t. Still, he was too insecure to believe he stood a chance.

"What do I do? What do I say, fuck?" Eddie whispered to himself, panic rising and mixing with the heat of the room.

He tried to turn back, but Robin shoved him again, this time with more force, drawing the attention of the entire party. Including Chrissy’s.

"Ah, fuck." Eddie froze. Chrissy was looking directly at him. And, to his total disbelief, she smiled. "What do I say?" he yelled at Robin, desperate.

It wasn’t a smile that said she was laughing at his ridiculousness—it was a shy, almost sweet smile.

She waved at him, a shy, embarrassed wave, as if saying, "Hey, come talk to me, please." And for a moment, Eddie forgot how to breathe. He almost dropped his cup.

"HA, I told you! Go, you idiot, go now, it’s the perfect chance. No girl likes being alone on New Year’s, go. Just tell her she looks pretty and it’ll work, just go, trust me," Robin said with one last shove.

Trust her? Fuck, he was going to die.

When Eddie finally got close to her, he stopped, as breathless as if he had run a marathon.

"Hi, Eddie," Chrissy said, with a smile that seemed to light up the room. Her voice was soft, almost musical, and he felt even more dizzy. She was so close now, and her sweet scent seemed to envelop him, making him lightheaded.

Up close, everything about her was even more mesmerizing. The shimmer of her makeup highlighted her eyes, and her rosy lips gleamed under the colorful lights of the party. He had never seen her look so beautiful, and for a moment, he thought he might just pass out right there. Or maybe lie down on the floor and serve as a carpet for her to walk on, because honestly, he didn’t think he deserved much more than that.

He tried to say something, but the fingers holding his cup were trembling so much that he had to switch hands to keep from spilling everything.

Eddie opened his mouth, but no words came out. He was lost in her smile, the tiny freckles almost invisible in the soft light, the way her hair shone like it was made of gold. And for a moment, he forgot all his fear, because at that moment, only Chrissy Cunningham existed.

Looking like an absolute idiot, paralyzed, she noticed, seeing him pale and unblinking.

Chrissy tilted her head, still smiling, and asked gently:

"Are you okay?"

Okay, just tell her she’s pretty, tell her she’s pretty. Eddie sighed, thinking to himself, panicking.

"H-Hey," he scratched the back of his neck, nervous, before blurting out: "You... you look... really pretty today... I mean, not just today, like, every... every day, and..."

Chrissy blushed and gave him those little smiles she always gave when she was near him, her eyes sparkling as she looked at him.

"Thank you," she bit her lip, a little shy. "You look... nice too... yeah, handsome."

She smiled, turning red, and he realized that she seemed nervous too, and fuck, that almost killed him.

"The shirt... I like it." She pointed at his black shirt, all shy, awkward.

He looked at his own shirt, which seemed too simple compared to the shine of her dress, but the comment was enough to make him stumble over his words. Not believing it. Not believing that she was actually nervous around him.

She was like a goddess. He couldn't imagine touching her, touching that dress. His hands weren’t worthy.

"Ah, thanks! It’s... new. I mean, from my uncle... and..." He nervously laughed, scratching his face again, feeling like he was about to explode. He didn’t know what the hell to say.

Chrissy laughed, the sweet sound calming some of his nerves.

Robin laughed, shaking her head, watching the two of them in the corner of the party, alone and awkward.

“What are you looking at?” Nancy appeared.

“Look, Chrissy and Eddie” Robin pointed. “It’s so cute. Only they don’t realize how in love they are, it’s almost nauseating.

Eddie cleared his throat, trying to shake off the lump in his throat. He had never been so aware of every move, every word. But something about the way Chrissy smiled at him—shy and a little nervous—gave him a strange courage he didn’t know where it was coming from.

"So…" He gestured with the cup in his hand, almost spilling the drink in the process. "S-So, did you like the last movies you picked up from the video store? I mean, I know most of them were a bunch of my recommendations, and I… um, I kind of have a peculiar taste, you know. But, yeah, you… did you like them?"

Chrissy tilted her head, smiling so sweetly that he almost melted right there.

"I did!" she replied, her eyes sparkling. "Actually, I'd already seen E.T., but it was so good to watch it again. And that other one, the horror movie… Night of the Living Dead, right? It was… scary, but… fun? You were right, I think I'm starting to like these weird movies." She laughed, biting her lip as if apologizing. "I think it’s your fault."

Eddie opened his mouth, surprised, but quickly composed himself, trying to hide the idiot grin that threatened to take over his face.

"Oh, me? My fault?" He placed a hand on his chest, feigning indignation. "Look, I won’t accept complaints about good taste in movies, okay? If you’re liking them, it’s because, obviously, you’ve got a great mentor."

Chrissy laughed again, a sound so light and contagious that he felt his chest warm up. She looked away for a moment, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her dress as if needing something to occupy her fingers.

"Well, I think you’ve got a point…" She looked back at him, kind of from below, still a little shy, but with something different in her eyes—a subtle confidence he’d never noticed before. "But… it’s not just that. It’s fun listening to you talk about the things you like, you know? You always seem so… passionate about everything. I think that's really cool."

Eddie blinked, his throat closing up again. Passionate? She thinks I’m passionate? Fuck, she has no idea…

"Uh, well…" He scratched the back of his neck again, nervous, but this time a laugh slipped out. "I talk too much, huh? Sometimes I think I’m gonna get banned from the video store because people are gonna start running away from me."

Chrissy shook her head quickly, her golden curls bouncing along with the movement.

"No, I like it. It's one of the best parts of my day," she said it so softly it almost felt like a secret, and her face turned even redder.

Eddie felt his legs weaken, as if she had just delivered a critical blow to him. He forced himself to say something before he truly passed out from the intensity of it all.

"Well, it's… good that you like it, because I'm definitely not stopping talking about my nerdy stuff anytime soon. Like, if you want, I can even make a list of recommendations for you. I think I’ve got, like, twenty ideas right now."

Chrissy laughed again, this time putting her hand over her mouth, as if trying to contain the sound. Her gaze was bright, her blue eyes fixed on his, and she leaned her body a little closer.

"Twenty? All that?" she teased, her lips curving into a genuine smile. "I guess I'll have to go to the video store more often then."

"More than you already do?" Eddie replied before he thought, then turned bright red when he realized what he'd said. "I mean… not that I'm keeping count or anything! Just… just saying you're already, like, number one customer, right? And, well… that's cool. Or, or I could start watching with you and… save you some money and…"

Jesus, he didn’t even know what he was saying anymore. He just wanted to die from embarrassment.

Chrissy looked at him with that soft, affectionate smile and gently shook her head.

"It’s cool, yeah. And I… I’d love to," she said quietly, almost killing him. After a moment of nervous silence, she tilted her head again, a curious look in her eyes. "And you? Are you enjoying the party?"

Eddie opened his mouth to answer, but stopped, feeling his heart race. He knew the answer, but saying it out loud was another thing. He took a deep breath and risked it.

"Now?" He looked directly at her, feeling the nervousness recede for just a moment. "Now it's perfect."

Chrissy blushed even more, her shy smile returning, and the two of them stood there, in the corner of the party, just smiling at each other, as if the rest of the world had disappeared.

"I think I owe you a million bucks," she laughed. "For all the movies you gave me for free. Does your boss… does he not complain about it?"

Eddie never let her pay. Even when she tried to sneak money into his hand and run out, afraid he'd get into trouble, he'd just slip the money into the bag and not let her pay. And she’d smile when she got home.

Sometimes, he’d write on the receipt: "Just a gift, Cunningham, accept it."

And yeah, sure, he got in trouble with the boss and lost half his paycheck, but he didn’t care. He’d do anything just to get those little smiles from her.

Eddie scratched the back of his neck, his gaze fixed on Chrissy as she gently swayed, still shy. The silence between them was heavy, but at the same time soft, as if something was about to happen. They were both blushing, looking away and then back at each other, caught in that strange but sweet tension.

He broke the silence, wanting more time with her.

"You... um, do you want something to drink? What are you drinking?" he finally managed to say, his eyes drifting to the cup she was holding with delicate fingers, adorned with a golden heart bracelet that sparkled under the lights. Her nails were perfect, painted with shiny polish, and he couldn't help but notice.

Chrissy looked at her almost empty cup, smiling shyly. "Oh, it's punch..."

"Do you want... do you want me to get you more?" Eddie asked quickly, pointing to the cup.

She nodded, her shy smile growing, and handed the cup to him. When he took it, their fingers almost touched, hers lightly brushing against his for a moment.

Eddie felt a shiver run up his arm, like a little electric shock.

"Thanks, Eddie," she said softly, swaying slightly as she smiled in that way that seemed to light up everything around her.

Eddie stumbled as he walked away, moving backward and almost spilling his own drink. He glanced at her quickly before turning forward, his heart racing. Why was the touch of her finger enough to make him feel this way? He took a deep breath and went to the table, filling her cup with punch, but his mind was still stuck on that sweet little laugh she let out when he tripped.

From a distance, he could see her laughing softly, her shoulders rising and falling as she watched him. That laugh made him want to throw himself on the floor just to hear her laugh like that all the time.

Eddie came back with the cup, his hands still shaking from nerves. Chrissy was still there, swaying side to side, her eyes downcast, and her cheeks flushed with a red that made him feel like his heart might stop at any second. He still couldn’t believe she hadn’t run off while he was gone.

"Here," he said, handing her the cup carefully, but a little punch spilled out and stained her hand. "Ah, damn, sorry! My bad, really sorry!"

Chrissy laughed softly, shaking her head. "It’s okay, Eddie, seriously."

But he couldn't let it go. "No, wait!" He ran back to the table, grabbing some napkins and returning to clean her hand. "Just... just a second, I’ll clean it!" He began to wipe her hand, his fingers lightly brushing hers in a way that felt almost reverent, like she was made of glass. The care he took, the attention to every movement, made her blush even more.

"All done," he finally said, lifting his gaze to her with a nervous smile, his ears red. "I couldn’t let you stain your pretty dress, so..." he said, his gaze never leaving her, as if trying to convey more than just the words.

"Thanks," Chrissy replied quietly, her eyes sparkling. She was holding the cup, but she seemed more focused on him than the drink.

For a moment, the two of them stood there, side by side, the silence between them filled only by the distant sound of music and the lively voices of the party. He leaned in slightly, trying to appear more casual than he felt.

"Are you enjoying the party?" he asked, trying to break the ice, though his heart was still pounding.

"Yeah..." Chrissy replied, swaying lightly, her pretty dress shimmering under the lights of the room. "But... not that much."

"Why?"

Eddie furrowed his brow, curious, with the fear that he might be the reason the party wasn’t going well for her.

Chrissy hesitated, biting her lower lip nervously. But something in his gaze – the look that seemed to truly see her, that made her feel special in a way no one else ever had – encouraged her to continue.

"It’s just... I don’t know almost anyone here," she started, laughing quietly, embarrassed. "And also..." She blushed even more, lowering her eyes before finishing, "It's the first time I don’t have anyone to kiss at midnight, so..."

The words came out as a nervous whisper, but Eddie heard them clearly. Kiss? He felt his stomach churn. For a moment, his mind flew to Brian Slagel, wondering if he was the guy Chrissy wanted to kiss at midnight.

But then, she looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with something different—shyness mixed with anticipation.

"I… I can keep you company, if you want," he stammered, his voice shaky, the words slipping out before he had time to think. He completely ignored the kiss part, because, seriously, what were the chances she was hitting on him?

But then she smiled. A smile so big, so beautiful, that it seemed to light up her whole face. He thought he might just collapse right there.

"I’d love that," Chrissy replied, her voice so sweet it could’ve been honey.

Before Eddie could say anything else, the energy of the party shifted. People began rushing toward the door, animated conversations echoing as everyone prepared for the countdown.

23:56. Four minutes to midnight. Couples gathered, eagerly awaiting the New Year’s kiss.

"Do you… do you want to go outside?" Chrissy asked, her voice soft, almost hesitant. She bit her lip, anxious, her fingers gripping her cup tightly as she waited for his response.

Eddie just nodded, unable to form any words. He followed her outside, still trying to believe that this was really happening.

As they walked toward the door, Chrissy looked at Eddie in a way he had never noticed before, but that had always been there. Her eyes glimmered with something more than the light reflected from the New Year’s decorations. It was a warm, passionate glow that made her gaze feel like he was the only person in the world.

She smiled to herself, gently biting her lip to hide her nervousness, but it was impossible to disguise how happy she was to be with him. Her eyes danced over his details: the messy hair, the nervous smile, the awkward way he still held the empty cup. She knew he was nervous, and that only made him more perfect.

He’s so handsome, and he’s even more so tonight. She had never seen him in a shirt like this before, and the way it fit him—his strong shoulders seemed even more defined, the sleeves rolled up, the tattoos peeking out, the belt, the white sneakers, the rings—all of it was still there. And then there was his smile, the most beautiful smile. But the truth was, she had been in love with him since that day in the woods, the way he made her laugh, and that feeling—just being near him—made her breathless no matter what.

Every little thing about him felt like it was part of the reason her heart raced. It wasn’t just the way he looked or dressed, but the way he made her feel. The way he was so real, so imperfectly perfect. The way he was nervous, how he couldn’t seem to keep his hands still, but that was what made him so genuine.

She could feel her pulse quicken just being around him, as if every glance and every word exchanged was another step closer to something she had been wanting for so long.

Chrissy walked close, so close that her arm brushed against his with each step, the fabric of her shiny dress lightly touching the sleeve of the shirt he had borrowed from Uncle Wayne.

She let the contact happen slowly, almost as if she wanted him to notice, to finally understand what she felt.

For nine months, she had waited, going to the video store every week, listening to him talk about movies and bands, hoping for some sign that he knew the effect he had on her. But Eddie seemed oblivious, lost in his own insecurities.

Her heart was racing, her cheeks flushed, and she felt like she could float just by being near him. Every move he made, no matter how small, seemed perfect, and it made her chest ache with tenderness. He wasn’t trying to be something he wasn’t. He was just Eddie, the guy who made her laugh and feel at ease, the guy who had made her heart skip a beat from the moment they met, and oh my god, she...she loves him, she loves him, loves him.

The realization hit her like a wave, crashing over her with such force that it took her breath away. She had been falling for him without even realizing it, and now, in this moment, it was so clear.

Chrissy took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. Inside, she was a mess, completely in love, daydreaming about him since the day their worlds collided in that forest. She remembered how funny and kind he was, how he made jokes just to get a smile from her. She remembered how he always seemed surprised when she laughed at his silly comments, as if he couldn’t believe someone like her would find him funny.

And now, with him by her side, walking so close that she could feel the warmth of his body, all she could think about was how badly she wanted him to know. How she wanted him to understand that all those nine months of visiting the video store, the smiles and glances, had been for him. That she didn’t need tapes or movies; she needed him.

She bit her lip again, anxious, as her arm brushed against his once more. This time, she didn’t pull away. She let the touch linger, waiting, hoping that he would finally realize what she was trying to say without words.

As they stepped outside, the cold air was interrupted by the loud, annoying voice of Brian Slagel. He appeared with a cup in his hand and a smug grin, stumbling a little in his own overconfidence.

"Chrissy! You’re alone, babe?" he asked, completely ignoring Eddie beside her. "It’s New Year’s, you know? You can’t be without a kiss at midnight."

Eddie stopped, his heart sinking, thinking maybe this was what she wanted. Maybe she wanted Brian. He took a step back, his shoulders slumping, trying to look indifferent, but his eyes never left her face.

Chrissy, however, immediately pulled away, yanking her arm out of Brian’s grip.

"No, I don’t want that, Brian. Let go of me!"

Brian laughed as if she were joking, moving closer.

"Come on, babe. Jason Carver was an idiot for losing you. I’m not."

Eddie saw her expression change. The sweetness in her face turned to something more tense, uncomfortable, and she tried to push Brian away again.

That was enough. Eddie, who had been paralyzed by doubt until then, felt his blood boil. He moved before he could think, pushing Brian away from her.

"Hey, she said no, are you deaf? Don’t touch her, you jerk!" Eddie growled, his tone fiercer than he had ever expected, the urge to knock the guy out surging through him.

He had always been the nerd, too weak for fights, but for her… it was like a protective instinct had surged, one that made him feel like he could crush this guy with his bare hands.

Brian looked at him as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"And who the hell do you think you are, weirdo? Why don't you go back to your hole, huh?"

Before Brian could make another move, Eddie shoved him hard, sending him stumbling backward and crashing to the ground. The chaos was instant, with people shouting and forming a circle around the two of them. Brian quickly got up and shoved Eddie back, knocking him down to the ground.

The impact made Eddie hit the floor, the collective gasp from the crowd echoing in his ears. He felt the pain shoot through his back and, worse, the weight of humiliation. He stared up at the sky, thinking he might have just made the worst choice ever.

Great, Munson, he thought, now you look like an idiot. You should’ve stayed quiet. Now you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of her.

But before he could even get up, Chrissy was there, kneeling beside him.

“Eddie! Oh my God, are you okay?” Her voice was full of concern, and he felt her delicate fingers gently hold his face, turning it upward.

For a moment, Eddie was completely lost, staring at her. Chrissy’s hair framed her face perfectly, her dress shimmering under the glow sticks began to light up, reflecting in her blue eyes as if he had died and gone to heaven.

“Did I hit my head too hard, or are you an angel?” He asked, his voice weak but honest.

Chrissy laughed, that sweet sound he loved, and her smile lit up everything around them.

“You goofball.” She shook her head, her eyes still worried, as she helped him to his feet. “Are you okay?”

Eddie didn’t answer right away. He was standing, but his focus was entirely on her, still holding his arm to steady him, looking at him as if he were the most important thing in that moment.

“I think so,” he finally murmured, his heart still pounding in his chest.

Chrissy smiled, a little more relieved, and only then did she let go of him, allowing him to stand on his own.

The countdown began, but for Eddie, everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. She was still there, by his side, her eyes sparkling as if nothing else mattered.

“Ten! Nine!”

Eddie felt his breath quicken, as if the air around him was too heavy. He could still feel Chrissy’s fingers holding his face moments ago, the soft touch that left him on the edge of an internal combustion.

He looked at her, still so close, face to face with him, her face illuminated by the lights of the fireworks starting to explode in the distance.

“Eight! Seven!”

Chrissy tilted her head slightly, her eyes shining with something he couldn’t quite decipher, but it made him want to freeze this moment forever.

“Are you nervous?” she asked, her voice as sweet as a whisper, a half-smile tugging at her lips, part daring, part shy.

He laughed, his throat dry.

“Is it that obvious?”

“A little.” Chrissy laughed along, the sound warming his chest in a way he hadn’t known he needed.

“Six! Five!”

She took a subtle step closer, her fingers brushing his arm, her gaze never leaving his.

“You’re... getting pretty close,” he murmured, feeling his heart hammering.

“Is that a problem?” she asked, her lips curling into a smile that seemed both mischievous and innocent at the same time.

“Four! Three!”

“No. Definitely not. Hell, no,” he trembled, still in disbelief that this was really happening.

Chrissy stood on her toes, her eyes so close that Eddie could barely think of anything else.

“Two! One!”

“Happy New Year!” the crowd shouted.

And then Chrissy smiled again, her face so close that Eddie barely had time to react. She stood on her toes, and her lips met his in a soft, sweet kiss at first, but it quickly grew into one full of increasing intensity.

Eddie stood still for a second, his mind blank, before finally giving in to the moment. He placed one hand on her waist, the other gently moving up her back, pulling her closer, finally feeling the fabric of her shimmering dress and the taste of her gloss, making a mess on both their chins.

She sighed, trembling against his lips, and he did too. The sounds of the fireworks in the sky, the glowing sticks around them, and the cheers of the crowd faded away, leaving only the sound of their racing hearts.

The kiss was better than in his dreams – sweet, but with a quiet urgency that made him want to hold her forever.

Chrissy pulled back slightly, her face still close to his, her lips curling into a shy smile, her cheeks flushed.

“Happy New Year, Eddie,” she murmured, so softly he almost didn’t hear it.

He lifted his hand to hold her cheek, his fingers grazing her soft skin, incredulous.

And then he lowered his hand, finding hers. The two of them stood there, hand in hand, looking at each other with hearteyes, surrounded by all the shimmering lights.

“Happy New Year, angel.” The words escaped in a low whisper, but full of a feeling he couldn’t name. “Can I kiss you again? Or just in a year?”

“Idiot,” she laughed, that sweet smile that only he got. “How about all year long?” She stood on her toes again, tilting her face, and this time, it was him who kissed her and took the lead.

Before they could savor the moment any longer, a shout pierced the air:

“I KNEW IT! YOU OWE ME 20 BUCKS, YOU JERK! I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU IT'S NOT NORMAL SOMEONE RENT 20 MOVIES A WEEK, HA!” Robin, clearly drunk, shouted from a distance, laughing.

Eddie began to laugh, while Chrissy, visibly embarrassed, hid her face against his chest, laughing softly. He wrapped his arms around her, shielding her from the world outside.

"Ignore her," he said, smiling. "I do it all the time."

Chrissy lifted her eyes to him, still blushing, and laughed, a light sound full of happiness. Eddie looked at her, realizing that for the first time in months, there were no more nerves, no more doubts. He was exactly where he wanted to be—no, where he was meant to be.

And she, with a smile, closed her eyes, feeling happy as she held onto his back, making a wish when the fireworks exploded in the sky at midnight. She felt his chest against her cheek, wishing for the night to never end, hoping he would never become a stranger—one whose laugh she could recognize anywhere.

There’s glitter on the floor after the party Girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby Candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor You and me forevermore.

She wants all his midnights.

[lillaydee]

Uncoupled - December Part 2

Roommate! Joel Miller / Reader

Two people leaving their marriages ended up going through the mandatory one year separation together before filing for divorce.

Nothing could possibly happen in a year, right?

WARNINGS: Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Ellie & Joel Bonding (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), No age gap, Roommate Joel, Teacher Joel, Handyman Joel, Insecure Joel, Minor Character Death, Grief/Mourning.

SERIES MASTER LIST

December Part 1

---

Joel put his truck into gear and drove off, his heart heavy at the sight of a sobbing Ellie in front of your bakery, his cheek still tingling from the small peck you gave him, your whisper of ‘drive safely’ to his ear as you lightly hugged him before he left, still giving him goosebumps. He had picked Ellie up as usual, but instead of taking her home as he had done this past week, he dropped her off at the bakery. He needed to pick his Mama up back home so that she could spend Christmas together with you, Ellie, Tommy and Maria. Tickets for flights, trains or buses were nowhere to be found so close to Christmas, so he decided he would make the six hour journey to pick her up.

She had offered to drive, but his heart couldn’t take the thought of his mother making the drive alone in her old car in the cold. What if it started snowing? What if there’s ice on the road? No… so Joel decided he would leave immediately after school and the two of them could drive up together. He will drive her back after New Year. Fatigue be darned.

But this would be the first time in nearly four months that he wouldn’t be there at Ellie’s bedtime. The first time he wouldn’t be there to read a story for her or stroke her hair until she fell asleep on his lap while watching TV. He had promised her it’s just for a night, and the little girl had clung on to him like glue as he tried to pass her on to you; so hard, you had to peel her off him.

It’s so weird how attached he had become to this little girl, and her to him. He was never one of those men who hated children; he was a teacher after all. But since children was a far off topic with him and Jen, he had never imagined he would end up being this attached to one. Really. He loved that little girl so much he would be hard-pressed to believe he wouldn’t die for her.

And then, there’s you, and this ‘feelings’ he might have for you.

It’s not that he didn’t want to explore the ‘feelings’, it’s just that he really wasn’t sure. What if he told you how he supposedly felt, and it turned out to be a rebound thing? You were one of the nicest people he knew, and you were just as vulnerable as he was these days – he couldn’t do that to you. So until he was sure it was a real feeling he was feeling, he wouldn’t say anything. Until then, he will enjoy your company and just live in this fantasy land where you, him and Ellie were a family.

He glanced at the passenger seat as he drove. A basket full of the biggest thermos you found, filled to the brim with hot coffee, just the way he liked it, a big bottle of water and a massive container of assorted bite-sized pastries and biscuits and cookies from you, and a packet full of assorted gummy bears from Ellie’s personal stash accompanying him to make sure he didn’t go hungry or thirsty during the six hour drive. Had Jen ever done that for him? He once went to visit his mother for a week and came home to Jen leaving for a night out looking shocked he was back with a suitcase; she hadn’t even realized he had been gone, much less made up a care package for his journey.

But see, this was just one of those things that made him so confused about his feelings. Was he really attracted to you? Or was he just enamored by everything you did for him that Jen did not? When he sprained his shoulder building the planter boxes when the two of you had the house to yourself, you spent the night before Ellie came back icing his shoulder, even going so far as massaging it for him, your lips full of apologies and words of promises to make him all the rice puddings he wanted for making him build them for you. In truth, all you did was tell him your vision for the garden when spring came, but he got overexcited and just got to work. He loved that you shared that with him, that you asked for his opinion. He wanted to do that for you, he wanted to make you happy, because you made him so very happy.

When you were trying out new cookie recipes for the bakery, he became your tastebud, your sounding board, taking his opinions and recommendations into account. You were now talking about redoing Ellie’s room so that it didn’t look like an old lady’s room, and the other day, you were looking at pictures of kitchens, and googling how to repaint your kitchen cabinetry. He looked forward to it all. If not for nothing, he just wanted to spend time with you, work side by side with you. And he knew for a fact that you would welcome his help and company.

That was the other thing. You had never rolled your eyes in distaste for him, never dismissed him or his thoughts or his stories. You literally stopped what you were doing to listen to him, actually removing a pot off the stove once so you could turn and give him your full attention. He had to consciously remind himself to not talk to you when you were concentrating on something – you would definitely stop just to entertain him and his nonsensical ramblings.

He once asked Jen if she had seen his laptop, and she took a deep, annoyed breath as an answer. After that initial year of marriage, everything he did annoyed her. The first instance shocked him. He sneezed while dusting the TV cabinet once, and she snapped at him to sneeze quieter. He joked that if she could figure out how he could control his sneezes without bursting a blood vessel, he would gladly do it, and she grabbed her car key and left for the night, screaming in frustration. He remembered standing there in shock – had he crossed some line he didn’t know existed or something?  

After that day, everything slowly changed. He got yelled at because she came home and there was dinner on the stove. She had a dinner to go to, who the fuck was going to eat that? He ended up taking the food to school for lunch that week, but he didn’t see what the big deal was. So she had a dinner – she didn’t tell him that, so he cooked, and that, apparently, merited a yelling.

And if he dared burp in her presence, or God forbid, cut a fart… oh… how could he do such disgusting things in her presence.

The first time he accidentally farted in front of you, he froze. Ellie let out an eww, so he very quickly said sorry. You didn’t even look his way. You just said, ‘it’s alright,’ lifted your own butt and cut one right back at him, grinning at him so widely he couldn’t help but laugh until he cried. Ellie kept her fingers on her nose until she was blue in the face but ended up laughing with both of you anyway.

So, was he falling for you, or was life just easier with you? Was the joy he was feeling every time he stepped into your company proof that he’s in love with you, or that he had been treated so negatively by his ex that he was confusing the relief he felt with love?

He did know one thing for sure though.

God, he missed the two of you already.

He had been on the road for around four hours when his phone rang. When he realized it was you he slid the answer button so fast he almost dropped the phone from the holder. You apologized profusely for calling, but Ellie refused to go to bed without saying goodnight. He told her a short story his Mama used to read to him before saying goodnight, the little girl mumbling ‘goodnight old man’ as she drifted to sleep. You whispered to him that she was out, and he could hear you close her door. You asked him where he was, how long of a drive he had left, and if he needed company for the rest of his journey.

He said yes to your company so quickly his cheeks felt hot at his desperation. But you just laughed.

You basically kept him company, telling him the drama that was Ellie during dinner, wallowing in the fact that he wasn’t there as if he had been gone a month, making his heart clench. You told him about the Karen that tried to exchange cookies bought from another bakery for yours because yours were nicer, making his blood boil at the thought that someone was so rude to you. You kept him talking, but not distracted, making sure he was not nodding off while driving.

This was the other thing about you. He felt as if you cared about him. The snack basket, the lunches you packed for him, the check ins whenever he’s not at home, your interest in his family, always asking about Tommy and Maria and his Mama. He off handedly mentioned something his Mama had begun crocheting and you asked him the next time he got off the phone about that particular project, whether she had finished it, if she liked the end product. He separated the beansprouts from his meal at dinner once, and all of a sudden, beansprouts no longer appeared on his plate. You paid attention. You cared.

In no time at all, he had pulled into his Mama’s driveway, shocked that two whole hours had breezed by since you called him. You were in the thick of telling him some idea Frank had about the Christmas cake, so he cut his engine and sat there, taking the phone from the holder, listening to you ramble on about the silly idea Frank had, and the back and forth he and Tess had about it, laughing at your story telling talents.

His Mama knocking on his window made him jump. He opened his door and told you his Mama was there. You just started speaking to her as if you had known her forever, despite never having met before. You ended the call, much to his disappointment, telling him to get a good night’s sleep and to text you when he’s leaving the next day.

“Hi Mama,” he greeted her with a kiss. He picked up the backpack he had brought with him and the basket of snacks you had provided, putting his arm around his mother’s shoulder before walking in with her.

**********

Anita Miller was an observant woman. She may not be the richest, or the most educated, but she was an observant woman. She also had a sixth sense of sorts, about the people she loved and those around them. When she got pregnant with Joel, she knew before she even missed her period. She knew he was there. He was an easy pregnancy. She didn’t get sick, she felt energized for much of her pregnancy, he hardly gave her any discomfort, just turned every now and again, a small kick or two, making her feel as if she had butterflies in her stomach and the labor was a breeze, considering it was her first pregnancy.

And that was how Joel was as a son. He was easy. As a baby, he hardly ever cried, just ‘complained’ when he wasn’t comfortable or was sick. He was the child who sat still when visiting other people’s homes, who helped with dinner, who cleaned up after himself, who never got in trouble at school. He was such an easy baby; she and Jake were tricked into believing child-rearing was easy. That her friends and family who complained raising children was the hardest job in the world were exaggerating. So they tried for a second baby.

She knew from the start Tommy was going to be… challenging. The morning sickness, the body aches, the food allergies, the ‘Tommy’ kicks, the extra strength Brackston’s Hicks, the bedrests, the labor… oh… the labor…

Tommy was the kid who couldn’t sit still, who Joel helped calm down, who screamed his lungs off at every discomfort, who Joel comforted, who raided people’s pantries and toyboxes when visiting, which Joel put right, who left a mess, which Joel cleaned up, who got detentions every single week, where Joel waited for him, who got into fights with just about everyone at school, which Joel defended him for, who couldn’t decide on a future, which Joel advised him for, who went through girlfriends like he was changing his clothes… where… Joel had to help break the news to the unfortunate girls for.

When Anita first heard about Maria from Tommy, she had a feeling. She heard him as a different person when he told her he met someone. Even on the phone, she knew. She knew this was the woman he was going to marry. She saw how Tommy mellowed around the time he met her, and he had matured to be the responsible man he was today. And when she finally met her, her hunch was confirmed. Maria was his other half. She completed him. Anita knew. She felt it.  

Joel, on the other hand, met Jen the day he started high school, became good friends with her, and stuck with her. As he and Jen went through all those stages everyone went through, right to adulthood, he stuck with her, as she pulled farther and farther away from him.

The first time Jen came to the house for a school project with Joel, Anita didn’t think anything. They were friends. But the moment Joel told her they were a couple a few years later, she felt… something. She was shocked, to be honest. Jen was not someone she ever thought Joel would be with, even if they had been friends for a while. As they grew older and their relationship blossomed further, Anita tried hard to make peace with it. Jen was a sweet girl, and Anita had nothing against her. She just… had a feeling. Something was not right. But her son believed he was happy. And Joel had never given her grief about anything. So she went with it. As long as her son was happy.

But then she watched that once sweet girl turn into the ambitious, callous, rude, selfish, cold-hearted person she was now. She saw how heartbroken her son was. Even though he played it down every time he talked to her, she knew. She knew her son was unhappy. She saw how Joel had to work too hard to make this girl happy. He would work extra hours to buy her a present, saved and starved to get her something she wanted, especially since she started college. She saw how Joel felt he needed to work for her love, her attention. He was always trying to prove his worth to her. And she saw how disappointed he was every time his efforts were downplayed. She saw with her own two eyes how this once sweet girl chastise her son for letting her stay over. For buying her something on her birthday. For spending money on her.

She heard from Tommy how this once sweet girl broke her son’s heart, blatantly cheating on him and shoving it in his face. She saw how she made her sweet boy smaller, quieter, sadder. It broke her heart so much that she nearly jumped with joy when he finally told her he was leaving her.

And then, he moved in with you. She felt it. He changed. He was himself in ways she didn’t even know he could be. He was happy. Really, really happy. He was relaxed. Rested. Comforted. Content. She asked Tommy about it. And Tommy let slip that Maria and her good friend Tess may or may not have orchestrated this whole living arrangement out of a hunch. A hunch, Anita had to say, she shared wholeheartedly.

Joel just sounded… different. The very first time Joel introduced her to you via Facetime, she just felt it. She had a feeling.

A good feeling.

Although, her oldest boy kept insisting that you were no more than a friend. A roommate. His best friend these days. And yet, she could hear his smiles and his expanding heart every time he talked about you and Ellie, which was every single time he talked to her. As soon as he moved in, stories about the little girl Ellie filled her heart. Joel couldn’t stop talking about her. Pictures upon pictures of Ellie was shared, Anita had a hard time believing she was not her grandchild at all. Facetimes with Ellie was a regular thing, which you sometimes join in on. She found herself missing you and Ellie, despite never meeting, and would beg Joel for stories about her, about you. Every time she went shopping, she found herself buying things for you and the little girl, and earmarking recipes for you to try. Anita had to remind herself that you were his landlady, not his girlfriend. But my God, she liked you.

She had a feeling.

And tonight, as she watched Joel sit in his parked car talking to someone on the phone, she didn’t need to ask who he was talking to. She saw it on his face. His tired, worked all day and drove all evening face.

She knew he was talking to you.

She had a feeling.

And when she found out you had kept him company for the final two hours of his drive and had packed a basket full of snacks for him so he wouldn’t go hungry during his drive, she found herself liking you more.

When she heard him talk on the phone in his room before bed, laughing and giggling with someone she couldn’t see, she didn’t have to ask who it was either. And when he called someone before leaving early the next morning, the smile on his face as he assured the other person that he will drive safely, stop if he felt tired and text if he did stop anywhere, as well as the smile that lingered for ages on his face as he drove the two of them back to his new home told her everything she already knew. He was talking to you.

She had a feeling.

**********

Joel’s truck had hardly entered the driveway when the front door flung open. A little girl, wrapped in a thick jacket and wool hat was standing right in the doorway - practically giddy with excitement as Joel muttered to himself ‘no, no, no, don’t come out yet sweetie, it’s not safe’ – and waited until he killed the ignition before running towards the driver’s door and launching herself at him as soon as he opened it, climbing aboard onto his lap and hugging him with all her might. She then shyly peeked at Anita, saying hi in the sweetest voice Anita had ever heard since her own boys said their first words.

Her own side of the door opened, and Anita was greeted by the sweet, adorable face she had met on Facetime, jumping out to give you a hug. She felt as if she had known you forever, and you, her. Joel came around the truck, Ellie still clinging onto him, giving you a kiss on your cheek and quick hug hello. As you pried the little girl off Joel, telling her Joel must be tired, let’s not cling to him like that, okay, Anita felt it again.

She had a feeling.

Joel carried her many, many bags into his room with Ellie’s usual brand of ‘helping’, letting his Mama have his room for the two weeks she would be staying – he would be staying in Ellie’s room. You and Anita were already like a pair of old slippers, you telling her to sit down as you served lunch for the four of you, her shushing you and helping set the table anyway.

Lunch was a merry occasion, and Anita felt welcomed and right at home, Ellie sitting between her and Joel, chattering as if she hadn’t seen Joel in a week, telling him everything he had missed since he left them not 20 hours ago. Then came the conspiratorial whispering, one that had been happening a lot over the last week, you told her. It’s a surprise, he told you, winking cheekily at Anita with a smile.

Tommy called a few hours later, asking if he and Maria could trouble you to come over for dinner – as if he needed to ask. You had never minded if the six of them dropped by unexpectedly. Plus, Anita hadn’t seen Maria in person since she got pregnant, so she was very excited for her son and daughter in law to come visit, promising his and Joel’s favorite meal for dinner. She asked if you would mind taking her to the store so she could buy some ingredients? You, of course, didn’t, just as she expected.

She separated from you for a while as she was looking for something, so you took the opportunity to get some stuff for the house. You were getting Joel’s usual brand of shampoo when a sharp tap on your shoulder made you look.

Jen. In all her immaculate perfection. Honestly. You felt like a frumpy old lady every time you saw her.

“Come to your senses yet?” she snarked, her eyes giving you a once over, checking your comfortable shoes, your warm but less than stylish jacket and the peeling old purse you were holding, the one Max bought you with his first pay.

“What do you mean? Come to my senses about what?”

“Look at yourself. I wouldn’t be caught dead looking like that in public, and here you are.” She snapped a picture of you, messy ponytail and all, and typed a quick text before sending the picture to someone. “I don’t even want to imagine what you looked like at home. And to think he left me for you. Don’t you realize you are not his type? Why would he lower his standards to be with someone like you?”

“I think he left you because you cheated on him, Jennifer, and may I say, she looks much better than you did before all the surgeries.”

Jen’s face snapped at the sight of Anita appearing behind you, placing a few items into the cart. She composed herself and forced a smile on her face.

“Anita… I’ve missed you… how are you Mama?” She tried to hug Anita, but the older lady took a step back.

“You missed me? The last time you saw me you called me ‘an intrusive old lady’, you know, as you were screaming at Joel to send me home.”

“Well, I was having a hard time back then…” Jen waved her hand as if what Anita just shared wasn’t the most horrifying thing you could think of being said to her.

“Yes… cheating must have been very difficult for you. Anyway, nice to run into you. I hope that doesn’t happen again. Come on, Lily sweetie, let’s go home. Joel and Ellie are waiting.”

She slipped her hands through your arm and guided you out of there, Jen standing there, stewing at the thought of her soon-to-be-ex-mother-in-law calling you ‘sweetie’ when she was never granted such a term.

“I knew you’ve always hated me,” she screeched out after the two of you.

“Really? I wonder why,” Anita dryly replied.

She paid for the purchase, fending off your protests and sweet talking the cashier into taking her card instead of yours, helped you load everything into the car, got in, and heaved a huge sigh of relief as the two of you buckled up and waited for the engine to warm up.

“You know, I never liked that bitch.”

**********

Joel showed you the message Jen sent him while you were at the store. A picture of you with the text – ‘I can’t believe you dumped me for this’. He hugged you, asking you if you were okay, knowing that she must have confronted you if she was that close to you to get a picture.

Anita told him what happened, and he kissed her, thanking his Mama for defending you. He hugged you again, apologizing for Jen’s words. You waved it off, it wasn’t his fault, you told him. She’s right, you muttered to yourself when you were sure Joel was out of earshot, greeting Tommy and Maria at the door, both of whom quickly smothered Anita with hugs and kisses as Anita cooed at Maria’s belly.

You unpacked the shopping while Anita, her two boys and Maria were merrily chattering while dinner was being prepped. She was making the boys’ favorite stew. When Jake Miller died, Joel and Tommy were only seven and four. His pension was hardly enough to cover half the expenses, so she would make that stew to save cost. It quickly became the boys’ favorite meal, she told you. She’ll teach you how to make it, it might come in handy, she said.

“It’s true. Sucks the grump away from both of them like that,” Maria said, snapping her fingers, her mouth full of the leftover Christmas cookies you had brought home from the bakery the night before.

You laughed, Joel and Tommy kissing their mother’s cheek, so much love in their eyes for her. You kept unpacking, your eyes glued to how happy Joel looked that his mother was here, absent mindedly taking out a plastic container that rattled. Upon realizing what it was, you shrieked and threw it onto the counter, taking a step back, looking at it in horror.

Ellie ran in, panicked at hearing you scream. Joel immediately going over to you, asking you what was wrong, did you hurt yourself? Was there a spider? What? Ellie peeked on the kitchen counter and saw what you just tossed. Recognition immediately filled her features, and she started laughing uncontrollably.

“What? This?” Joel asked, picking up the item you tossed.

It was a container of raw kidney beans.

He showed it to you, asking you if that was what you were scared of.

You froze and took a step back.

“When she was my age Daddy told her she needed to put them up her nose if she wanted to get the good presents for Christmas. She put so many up there her nose bled, and her head rattled. Grandpa had to take her to the hospital. The whole family missed Christmas that year.”

“Wait, that’s where Beans came from?” Joel asked, a sweet smile forming on his face.

You bit your lips, shame flooding your face. Fuck. Secret’s out.

But then you sort of saw the funny side of it and snorted. You nodded slowly, your eyes closed, your face scrunched up in embarrassment.

“So you don’t buy kidney beans?”

“Only the canned ones. Never the dry ones.”

Anita snorted, and the rest followed. You laughed with them, bent double from the silliness of it all. Joel gave you another hug, kissing you on the head.

“You’re adorable,” he said, before he could stop himself. You blushed and smacked his arm, continuing your unpacking, laughing as you did so, shoving the beans and a few other items into his hand telling him to store them in the pantry.

Anita was an observant woman. She watched every time Joel looked at you, which, if her watch was right, was every few seconds any time the two of you were in the same room together. She watched as he touched you every chance he got. She watched as his face lit up every time you talked, blushed every time you were looking at him. She watched as her oldest son’s face morph into longing and yearning every time you were not. She watched as he clung on to every word you said to him. She watched as he smiled and relaxed in your presence. She watched as he bounced around the house with you with ease, as you laughed with each other.

She watched. She observed.

She knew.

She had a feeling.

Her oldest son was head over heels in love.

For real this time.

And she was all for it.

---

December Part 3 - The Show, The Purses, The Mistletoes

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Bengiyo's Queer Cinema Syllabus

For those of you who don’t know, I decided to run the gauntlet of @bengiyo’s queer cinema syllabus, which is comprised of 9 units. I have completed four of the units (here is my queer cinema syllabus round up post with all the films I’ve watched and written about so far). It is time for me to make my way through Unit 5- Lesbians, which includes the following films: The Incredibly True Adventure of Two Girls in Love (1995), Bound (1996), Water Lilies (2007)[finally got my hands on this one but I still need to watch it], Saving Face (2004), D.E.B.S. (2004), Set It Off (1996), The Handmaiden (2016), Carol (2015), Imagine Me and You (2005), Two of Us (2019), Rafiki (2018), and The Color Purple (1985). 

Today I will be watching

Imagine Me & You (2005) dir. Ol Parker

Summary: A newlywed bride becomes infatuated with another woman who questions her sexual orientation, promoting a stir among the bride's family and friends.

Cast: - Piper Parebo as Rachel - Lena Headey as Luce

___

THIS SHIT WAS CUTE! I have never seen it before, despite seeing the cover for this film for years of my life. I expected it to be your standard romcom, and for the most part it was but to be quite honest, I was kind of surprised that they made Heck a genuinely good guy and therefore complicating the decision for Rachel to leave. 

It’s strange for me in that this is the queer cinema syllabus, right? So you would think that I would focus more on the queer aspect of this story than anything else. Except, I kept getting hung up on how much I genuinely loved the portrayal of domesticity between Heck and Rachel. They made, to me, a believably happily married couple at the beginning, with her doing her makeup in the bathroom while Heck is peeing, them being in bed together passing sections of the newspaper back and forth, and honestly even with Heck not being concerned at all about Rachel renting a porn film and being genuinely interested and excited to sit down and watch it with her. Obviously for him, he thinks it’s more foreplay in to sex rather than Rachel exploring her own sexuality, but regardless I really liked those little moments. 

Sure, Cooper is kind of a dick, and that at first would leave me to believe that Heck is kind of a dick. But he genuinely loves Rachel, and I did not expect to be so surprised that he knew that her favorite flowers were lilies (maybe that’s unfair towards heterosexual men in romcoms on my part but) and that he never really thought about the fact that Luce might be in love with Rachel. Which I also appreciate from the perspective of, say, Cooper who immediately figures it out and goes to harass Luce about it. 

I love the little romance moments between Luce and Rachel, the way Rachel is thinking about touching Luce during the school presentation, and the way that she responds to Luce touching her diaphragm during the football/soccer game. I like that it is Rachel that makes the decision to initiate the kiss, and I understand why after listening to the conversation that Luce and Heck have that she would want to cut off contact with Luce and try to maintain the life that she has with Heck. Heck and Rachel both have a lot to lose, and Rachel and Luce both know that there is a really wonderful guy here that they are or will be hurting by following their feelings. 

I was really happy that Heck decided the right thing to do was to let Rachel go. I’m glad that we got that little epilogue during the credits to see that he will in fact meet someone else, and that Rachel and Luce are still happy. 

And also, in a kind of tangent, I wanted to commend the writing of the parents in this film. The way all three of them were written made the personalities of the children (meaning Rachel, H, and Luce) very identifiable and their connection to each other believable. I loved the honesty that Rachel’s dad spoke with and the way that Rachel’s mom looked genuinely surprised and hurt that her husband felt like she was just tolerating him and that she would leave him the second she found a better offer. 

And shout out to city living for inventing traffic and making sure that Luce couldn’t run away. 

Favorite Moment 

My favorite moment is honestly when H goes by herself to check on Heck and make sure that he is doing okay. That she sits there with him, and lets him cry, and brings him candy is such a lovely, caring thing to do and I appreciate that she recognized that in all the excitement to get Rachel to reunite with Luce that H was probably hurting and needing people in his corner too. I think it speaks a lot to the way they wrote H’s character too, that she is a little girl who asks too many questions despite knowing that her family gets annoyed at everything she wants to know and who is pawned off to Luce the second that Luce humors any question that makes her the exactly correct character to think about the forgotten person in all of this.

Favorite Quote 

“Don’t forget me.”  “I won’t remember anything else.” 

Such a tragic fucking line. 

Score 

8.5/10

I do not have any major complaints about this film. Sure there was homophobia written in it but that was definitely and obviously intentional and also I loved how the different moments of intimacy were interrupted. First by Michael and Michael which…lmfao of course. Secondly by rose thorns to the ass because what else do you think is going to happen when you make out in a flower shop? Also, I know I keep saying names of actresses and stuff but like…thank you to the casting director for making sure that there is at least one film out there with Lena Headey being gay as hell.

[le-panda-chocovore]

I told you guys I was going to write it

"No, you don't."

Toji's voice echoed on the walls and in Shiu's ears like an ineluctable truth. He stood still, arm crossed on his chest, staring at the middleman with an unimpressed look on his face.

"What ?"

"I said you don't," he repeated but it still didn't make sense to the Korean man. "You don't love me."

Shiu blinked and stayed silent. What was he even supposed to say to that ? What kind of rejection was that ? He expected many things from Toji, he honestly didn't think the man would accept his feelings easily, but this was more violent and weird than any scenario he had played in his head before confessing. He was so ready to handle Toji being on the defensive, claiming that he's not interested in men (despite them fucking every now and then, often after a job), that now he didn't know how to react to the man saying that he -Shiu- didn't actually love him. As if he was wrong about his own feelings.

It could be worse, Shiu thought. Toji could have laughed at him or called him a slur. That wouldn't be too surprising. Actually, that would be more realistic than Toji's actual reaction.

"What makes you say that ?" And, because the other man didn't answer the question, Toji felt the need to elaborate. "What makes you think that you have feelings for me ?"

"Huh," Shiu hesitated, because this was a weird thing to ask someone who just confessed.

It was embarrassing enough to fall in love with Toji Fushiguro -the infamous Sorcerer Killer- and it had been hard to gather the courage to tell him, and now he was supposed to justify his feelings ? Was this a prank or what ? Did he anger a god or something ? How did he even end up in this painfully ridiculous situation ?

"Well," he started and immediately looked away. Toji's insensitive stare was uncomfortable. "Hum, I guess I... I feel happy when you're around ? I mean, sure you're annoying, you're a sick bastard, but you still manage to make me feel better just by standing near me. I can't stop myself from looking at you whenever we're in the same room, I want to touch you and kiss you and talk to you. So... Yeah, things, like that, you know ?"

Toji hummed lightly. He hadn't moved an inch, eyes entirely focused on the man who apparently was insane enough to fall in love with him. Or to believe so.

Shiu was uncomfortable. He wanted to go home. He knew he'd regret confessing, he regretted having feelings even before talking about them. He had no idea what was on Toji's mind or what he wanted him to say, so he kept going, hoping that the man would finally stop staring holes through his soul like that.

"And, uh, when you smile... Fuck that's embarrassing- Hum, alright. When you smile or laugh it does something to my heart, I can't really explain it, but it feels good."

"That's it ?" Toji asked with a raised eyebrow. He didn't look convinced at all. "That's not love Shiu, you just find me good-looking, you don't have actual feelings."

Shiu frowned. He was getting frustrated and annoyed by that shithead's attitude. He didn't go through all stages of grief when he realized he was in love for that bastard to tell him he doesn't know what Love is. That was bullshit. He had spent a while wondering about his feelings, trying to hide them or deny them before finally accepting them. He wasn't an inexperienced teenager who didn't know the difference between finding someone handsome and being actually in love.

"You want more proofs ? Alright, let's go through this. I already started so I might as well tell you everything."

Shiu sighed and silently prayed to not blush while declaring all the cheesy thoughts he had about that motherfucker.

"I learned your favorite dish, and your favorite drink, and your favorite TV show too. I even learned how to cook it so you can eat it when you're staying at my place. I hesitated to buy something for your birthday, but you don't like celebrating it so I didn't do it. I also bought XXL clothes so you have something to wear when you come here unannounced and decide to stay a few nights. I actually want you to stay every night, and every day. I want to take you on a date, hold your hand when we're outside, share some food in a shitty restaurant because why not, go watch a movie and fall asleep against your shoulder cause the movie would be boring. I want to kiss you even when we're not fucking. I can't get enough of your lips, I want to taste them every hour of each day and to call you with a stupid petname because you're adorable and I fucking love you. And this is stupid, I don't even know why I'm talking so much, but you're doing this to me and I'm not going to pretend these fucking feelings don't exist."

He took a deep breath after blurting out all of this and tried not to think about how much he wanted to bury himself in the ground. He couldn't look at Toji, but he could feel that the killer was still staring at him.

"That doesn't mean anything," Toji retorted dubiously. "I feel that too and I'm not in love with you."

Shiu blinked.

"What ?" He turned his eyes toward the man. "What the fuck do you mean, you feel the same ???"

Toji sighed as if it was a stupid question. Shiu wanted to punch him because he was clearly not the one being stupid right now.

"Well, what you just said," he waved vaguely at Shiu. "That's what I feel when I'm with you. The heart thing with your cute smile and wanting to touch you 'cause you're warm. And your place is nice, there's good food and hot water, I wanna stay too. But since I don't have feelings, it means you mixed up love with something else."

Shiu stared with his eyes wide open. He opened his mouth, closed it, breathed deeply, and opened it again. Toji chuckled quietly, he thought he looked like a very confused fish.

Shiu was indeed confused. Confused about how the hell did that grown ass man not realize that he was madly in love too. He just said he felt the exact same thing, and he dared to claim he didn't love him back ? That better be a prank.

"...You find me cute ?"

Toji shrugged.

"Yeah, sometimes." He said that as if it was normal. Shiu wanted to kiss him. And punch him too, but perhaps after making love passionately with that huge dumbass.

"And you'd like to stay at my place ?"

"You cook well, and your bed is comfortable. Better than mine."

"What about holding hands and kissing ?" Shiu tried, confused but hopeful.

"Yeah yeah, I told you, it's all the same ! Well, maybe not the clothes things cause I don't have money to spend on it, but sometimes I take your stuff home cause it has your smell and I like that."

"..."

He didn't even have the words to explain to him how not normal what Toji just said was. He stared. The bastard stared back.

The problem was pretty clear to Toji, and it wasn't really a problem since he managed to solve it in two minutes. There was nothing to worry about. They didn't need to stop their little coworker with benefits arrangement and Toji was quite happy with that. He also found it kinda funny that Shiu really believed he caught feelings. The middleman liked to pretend he was the mature and smart one but sometimes he was really dumb.

Toji understood how Shiu felt toward him, like he said it was exactly the same on his side. If it was like Shiu said, that'd mean that Toji had feelings too, which was completely ridiculous. Toji wasn't a romantic man, but as far as he knew, love was more like . . .

Since they felt the same thing then-

And Toji knew he wasn't-

Which meant-

...Oh.

Well, fuck.

Maybe Shiu did love him after all.

[hollow-vok]

Ohh im obssesed

[theinfinitedivides]

yup he unraveled folks

[aayakashii]

After a long time, I offer you the sequel to this fic here 🤲

Warnings: *BANGING POTS AND PANS* KUUYA IS A SUBMISSIVE PATHETIC LOSER YANDERE IF YOU DON'T LIKE MALE SUBS YOU MIGHT NOT LIKE THIS!!!! Also: NSFW and yandere themes from Kuuya and the reader; reader is gender neutral and AFAB; 9k words 💀

Kuuya is a @devotion-disorder OC and they gave me permission to write more abt their sad and wet cat <3 I hope you like it!!! The art below is theirs as well!

♡ cannibalism as a metaphor for love ♡

The clock ticked a little bit past 6PM. You frowned as you watched the last rays of sun fade away in the sky, thinking about your house – how you could be wearing your comfortable pajamas, making some greasy popcorn while you watched a bad horror movie.

Instead, all that you had was that non-ergonomic chair, a coffee that had already gone cold and bitter and the glaring blue light of your computer burning your retinas.

You were working overtime.

It’s not a new concept for you per se, not in a black corporation such as the one you worked for. It’s just that on that specific day, it felt like everyone had left the building but you. Every cubicle was empty and the room was incredibly dim – it was anxiety inducing. You turned on as many lights as you could and put some background music to feel less isolated, but the setting simply didn’t help. You were locked in that little dystopian bubble all on your own and no amount of piled up work could make you concentrate properly when it felt like you were in purgatory.

Outside, a loud thunder made the window panes vibrate and you sighed.

“Fuck this” you murmured, getting up. You’d at least make some more coffee. Would you feel even more anxious? Yes. But you needed something to distract yourself with and brewing a new, actually sweetened pot of coffee would have to do.

You briskly walked towards the break room, trying to avoid thinking about the oppressing darkness that surrounded you, staring at your feet. However, you soon slowed down – the door to the office kitchen was closed, and you could see the light was on from the crack under the door. 

Common sense would allow you to come to the conclusion that probably someone else was in the building with you, after all. 

But in that moment, all that blared in your mind were the sirens of dread. Your mind went from thinking that a serial killer was hiding in the pantry to imagining a deadly monster coming to whisk you away before you ever thought about some other colleague being in the building with you.

You crossed your fingers hoping it was just the (possibly hot) monster from another dimension coming to kidnap you and slowly opened the door, ready to run if needed.

Instead, you were met with the curved back and the mop of messy lilac hair of someone you knew oh too well.

“Kuuya?” you called, quietly.

“AH!” he flinched, crinkling the plastic cup he had in his hand and spinning around to look at you. The water he was pouring in his cup splashed on his button up shirt and he looked like a deer caught in headlights.

You raised your hands up, like you would do to a feral animal to show you mean no harm.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to spook you. I didn’t know there was someone else here. I thought I was alone.” you said, entering the room and feeling a little bit relieved to see another sign of life in that somber building.

Even if it was from your cute and creepy little stalker.

Kuuya hurriedly grabbed a napkin and began dabbing at his shirt, nodding silently and avoiding your eyes.

You sighed loudly as you began rummaging the kitchen’s cabinets for all the supplies you needed.

As much as you allowed yourself to indulge in your sick fantasies when it came to him, most of the time Kuuya just frustrated you. You wondered if he would ever try to talk to you. Hell, would he ever even look at you in your eyes for more than a second? It was maddening.

You knew he was far from innocent, no matter how reserved he acted around you. Didn't he literally follow you to your home just to jerk off in the bushes by your window? Where is all that courage when you're right next to him?

You wouldn't mind actually taking the initiative, but most of the time you honestly felt like you were crazy. Maybe you were so horny for that sad wet cat that you were hallucinating. 

Maybe he never went to your house and it was just the wishful thinking of your deeply, deeply perverted mind.

Maybe he actually wanted to run away from you whenever you were around, but you were just too insane so you kept imagining him fisting his cock just because you breathed near him.

Although they do say that insane people never think they're insane.

God! If only he gave you A DIRECT SIGN! A green light! Something that would let you know you can take charge!

No matter how adorable his bashfulness was, he still made you feel like you were kicking a baby animal whenever you addressed him directly. And honestly, that didn't really help his case.

“Are you… okay?” his quiet voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you noticed how you were crouching and staring at a dead empty cabinet for way longer than necessary. You closed the door and got up quickly, clearing your throat.

“We’re out of coffee.” you said, pulling your phone out of your pocket. “I'm gonna order something to eat. Is there anything you want?”

Kuuya was one step away from being malnourished, you noticed. You wouldn't mind putting some food inside that scrawny body.

“Um… No, it’s not necessary… I don’t really have… um… money…”

You waved your hand dismissively as you scrolled through a delivery app.

“That doesn’t matter. I’m paying.”

Kuuya shook his head frantically while waving his hands.

“N-no, I can’t accept that!”

You side-eyed him and he visibly flinched under your glare.

“Even if you don’t tell me what you want to eat, I’m gonna order something for us. We are quite literally stranded here, I’m not going to let you go hungry.” you shrugged.

He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. God, he was so cute. Why did he act like you would straight up kill him if he said something wrong, though? Were you that intimidating? Well, not intimidating enough to keep him from masturbating right by your bedroom and stealing your stuff, apparently.

“Also” you continued “It’s going to rain soon, apparently. I don't want to make some delivery guy go out in the rain to deliver us food once we’re actually hungry, so I'll just do it now.”

Kuuya opened and closed his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but nothing would come out. He looked like a little fish, you thought, as you waited for him to say something. When he didn’t after a whole minute, you just shrugged.

“Is chicken sandwich and fries okay with you?”

He nodded, hesitant yet still licking his lips unconsciously at the thought of some good actual food. You figured he was probably very hungry. In fact, you could picture it very clearly: Kuuya getting home and just eating the least nutritious instant noodles in the world, day after day. No wonder he looked so tired all the time. He was probably running low on fuel for way too long.

“Okay. So I’m gonna order those, and also some coffee and cookies. If I'm gonna stay here and be tortured by all the work I gotta do, I wanna at least have something tasty to console me.” you mumbled, more to yourself than anyone else.

And as you placed the order, you ended up missing the little lovestruck smile that quickly appeared on Kuuya’s face.

You had gone back to your cubicle while you waited for your order. Knowing you weren't completely alone calmed your nerves and you managed to work properly for the time it took for your food to arrive.

Once you had all the bags in your hands, you walked back to the kitchen and the door was open just like you had left it. Kuuya was still there, sitting at the table, nursing a tepid cup of water.

“You didn't go back to your work station ?” you said, putting the multiple bags of food on the table, earning a startled yelp from him again. You raised an eyebrow and huffed out a laugh. “You're more skittish than I am.”

He pursed his lips into a thin line, avoiding your eyes.

“S-sorry…”

You shook your head.

“There's no reason to apologize. Here, the food arrived. Let's eat?”

He nodded, hurriedly getting up to help you set up plates and cups down, wobbling a little bit like he had to consciously think about how to walk properly.

You looked at him through the corner of your eye while he washed a few dishes. 

Kuuya always seemed like he was in distress. His shoulders looked tense like a violin string and there was always a little crease on his forehead. His eyebrows were almost always scrunched and raised up, giving him that kicked puppy look to his face that you found so endearing. It made you want to hold him in your arms and massage those little shoulders until they were soft under your fingers, and kiss those worry lines until he relaxed, even if just for a little while.

You clenched and unclenched your fingers, quickly busying yourself with putting the now clean plates on the table, otherwise you'd jump at him as soon as he looked at you with those pink doe eyes that you so deeply wished you could stare at for hours on end.

If only he wasn't so easily frightened.

Soon enough, everything was set on the table, ready for you to eat.

“Alright” you sat down and motioned vaguely towards the food “Dig in! Don’t be shy.”

Kuuya slowly sat down, eyeing the sandwiches like he had never seen food before in his life. Still, he kept his hands to himself and fidgeted on his chair.

“Is something wrong?”

“I- I feel like I should be paying for this. I promise I'll repay you once I get my next paycheck.” he mumbled, looking extremely embarrassed.

You tutted, shaking your head.

“Nonsense. You don't have to pay for anything. Now eat. It'll make me glad if you eat properly. That's how you can pay me back.”

He pouted for a moment, considering your words, then hesitantly grabbed the sandwich, giving it a nibble. His face lit up at the taste of the sandwich and his inhibitions then seemed to go down a little. He took a bigger bite, chewing happily. His chin was slightly smeared with sauce and you smiled.

So fucking cute.

As you ate, you noticed how he kept on shaking and nodding his head in order to move the long lilac bang that covered his right eye away from his mouth. After a few more moments just watching him struggle, you got up from your seat.

“Here, let me help you.” You reached inside your pockets and showed him a hair clip you always kept at hand. You reached out for his bangs, hovering your hand over his hair as if to ask for permission to put the clip on him.

He unceremoniously slapped his hands over his bangs and right eye, hard.

“N-no!” He yelled, sounding terrified.

You jumped, surprised at his uncharacteristic reaction, and raised your arms again, the second time that day.

“Okay, okay. Sorry, I won't touch it. You can put it on your hair if you'd like it, then. No pressure” you said, still offering the hair clip.

He slowly moved his hands away from his eye, shaking as he grabbed the clip from your palm. 

“O-okay…thank you and… sorry…” he mumbled, gripping the clip tightly inside his fist.

“It's no problem. Just… please pin it in a way that will keep your hair from touching your food” you grimaced “That's not really hygienic.”

He clumsily pinned his hair to his scalp, the bangs still completely covering his right eye, but somehow precariously pinned right over his ear. You gave him a nod of approval.

“I guess that's good enough.”

You two continued eating, a painfully awkward silence looming in the atmosphere, as the heavy rain that had threatened to fall all night finally pattered against the windows.

You figured you wouldn't try to break that silence, despite how uncomfortable it was. It was time for him to try and communicate with you too, and if he didnt, well. You wouldn't spread yourself thin just to receive a few nods and indiscernible  mumbles, no matter how adorable he was whenever he was flustered.

Kuuya politely thanked you for the food as he finished eating, right at the same time as you. He pushed his chair, the grating sound against the floor making the both of you flinch. He straightened himself up, as much as his hunched back would allow him to, and cleared his throat.

“I, uh. I have to go to the bathroom. I'll- I'll clean everything up, so you can leave it there. I'll be right- I'll be right back.” He stuttered, eyes flitting everywhere around the corners of the kitchen, except to you. He was tightly grabbing his elbow with his other hand, until he visibly relaxed when you nodded at his words, like he needed your permission, and scrambled out of the room.

You waited a minute or two after he left, before getting up and quickly walking towards the men's bathroom as well.

Yeah, right. Sure. Bathroom.

You might not have known Kuuya that well yet, but you knew one little thing: he was a terrible liar.

You opened the door to the bathroom as quietly as you could, hoping it wouldn't creak and possibly rat you out. When you managed to close it behind you without a sound, you exhaled a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

Stepping slowly and carefully, you walked towards the bathroom stalls and stood still for a second.

Yeah. There it was.

Your mouth quirked up into a pleased smile when you heard the sound of heavy breathing coming from a stall to your left. Gasps and choked out little moans reached your ears and went straight into your core.

Kuuya was jerking off in that bathroom stall.

You licked your lips and kept moving slowly, much like a predator trying not to be seen. You slotted yourself into the stall right beside him and crouched on top of the toilet, effectively hiding your feet from him in case he looked down.

But from the sounds coming out of his stall, he was already way too cumbrained to notice anything around him.

You could hear the sounds of his hand rubbing his cock mercilessly as he groaned, probably a little louder than he should if he was trying to be subtle.

Your breathing became heavy.

You found yourself imagining his hand grabbing his shaft tightly, rubbing his thumb against the angry pink tip of his dick, smearing the beads of precum all over his length. His other hand would be lifting his shirt to pinch and pull at his nipple, eliciting those cute little gasps you kept hearing from where you were standing.

Begrudgingly, you undid your pants’ zipper and shoved your hand into your already leaking cunt.

His moans got louder, the lewd, wet sounds of him fucking his own hand going faster and you thought of how his cock would be twitching, balls heavy with cum tightening as a warning sign that he was about to come undone.

Your fingers circled your clit, eyes closed and mouth agape with a silent moan at how fucking hot he sounded and how filthy you felt for getting off to him without his consent – but it's not like he didn't do the same to you before.

A loud, shaky moan came out of him as he apparently came all over his own hand. You thought of how he would ride his own high, squeezing every last drop of his load out of his cock until the overstimulation would be too much and he'd halt his movements.

You heard him pant heavily, stopping your movements so he wouldn't hear the wet sounds of your pussy. You were so far away from your own high, but listening to his little mewls was more than worth the frustration.

Until he opened his mouth again to moan your name.

“I love you… I love you I love you I love you, fuckfuckfuck I love you so so much.. a-ah fuuuuck…” the sounds of him furiously jerking off reached your ears again and your eyes fluttered shut as you tried to control your breathing.

He kept moaning and whining your name over and over again, probably leaning against the stall's wall as everything began to shake in the same rhythm of his hips.

You bit your knuckle hard, trying to avoid making any sounds while you rubbed yourself, chasing your orgasm to the glorious sound of your pathetic stalker fucking himself silly in your workplace's bathroom.

His whiny, slutty voice sounded like honey, viscous and sweet – something that you would swallow eagerly, leaving your tongue heavy with his syrupy, nauseating taste. 

You bit your knuckle harder as you felt the frustration of chasing a release that would not come, because you desperately wanted to taste him; to glide your tongue over his skin and memorize the salty flavor of his sweat and the musky scent of his body. Anything else would not work for you anymore.

You could eat him whole, truly. You needed your hands and your stomach and your pussy to be full of him. Urgently.

You stopped toying with your clit, allowing the anger of not even having a sad, unsatisfying orgasm wash over your body.

Kuuya seemed to finish much quicker this time, your name in his lips loud as he came a second time.

You looked down and bit your lip, pulling your own hair in frustration – you could see a few drops of his cum drip onto the bathroom floor, pitifully wasted.

Closing your eyes, you forced yourself to breathe deeply and closed your eyes. 

First, you needed to get out of there without him noticing so he wouldn't have a mental breakdown and run away. And then, only after that, you could think of the next steps of your plan.

You allowed yourself to rest your head against the wall, waiting for him to clean himself up and leave.

It was so weird, this desperate attraction you had for Kuuya and how afraid you were of messing everything up. You had your previous crushes before, sure. But nothing was ever as strong as the desire you had to cradle that stupid man in your arms and keep him with you, safe. 

You knew things were different once you found out he was obsessed with you and it still didn't extinguish that little fire inside of your core.

Usually, you'd lose interest in people as soon as they began expressing interest in you as well – you knew it was wrong and you had brought it up during therapy sessions, but it never really bothered you.

Until Kuuya. 

When you confirmed your suspicions (that he was insanely obsessed and even went as far as stalking you) you felt a strange excitement bubble in your stomach – like you had achieved something.

It made you shiver in anticipation for those little moments in which your eyes would meet his and he'd blush furiously, or when you'd purposely brush your hand against his only to watch how he twitched and rubbed his thighs together.

You were addicted to him. You wanted him even more after finding out about his feelings, and that was new to you. That was something you weren't willing to let go.

And with that, came the fear that Kuuya might be just like you. What if he was an emotionally constipated mess like yourself? What if he lost all interest as soon as you gave him an opening? Just because he was different for you, didn't mean you'd be special to him, in the off case he had the same bad habits.

That was why you were so cautious, so slow in your movements. You didn't want him to run. You didn't want to lose the feeling of being reciprocated. You'd protect it the same way you'd protect a tiny flame against the whip of a merciless wind.

But after hearing him moan your name like a needy whore, you didn't think you could hold it in anymore.

Kuuya had already left for a good 5 minutes while you were lost in your thoughts.

You quickly cleaned yourself and walked towards the sinks to wash your hands. You looked at yourself in the mirror of the men's bathroom. Sweat stuck to your forehead and your face looked flush. You were out of breath and your heart beat fast and loud inside your ribcage.

You turned on the sink, splashing cold water against your face and, after you dried up, you stared at your reflection again.

Well. So Kuuya had loudly moaned your name as he fucked his own fist. And you had masturbated to the sounds of his gasps and mumbles of your name.

No matter how paranoid you were – you were very much sure you weren't fucking hallucinating any of that.

“Walk me home?” you went to his desk after you finished the last of the details in your reports, fully intent on taking him with you to your home.

‘It’s now or never’, you thought to yourself.

“S-sorry?” he sputtered.

“Walk me home?" you repeated "The rain stopped, but it's kinda late. I don't want to walk alone. It's too dark.” 

He seemed to consider your request for way too long. Anxiety began bubbling in the pit of your stomach, and, for a moment, you thought it'd be better to just pretend you never asked anything, until he answered you.

“Okay… I can go with you.” he murmured, getting up and grabbing his shoulder bag.

You let out a breath of relief you didn't know you were holding, and smiled.

“Thank you, Kuuya!”

You didn't miss how he bit his lips and shivered at your words.

The walk home was uneventful, as you expected. Kuuya walked by your side and insisted on staying on the road's side of the sidewalk. You praised him for being a gentleman and he became a blushing and stuttering mess, but besides that, he was quiet. 

You arrived at your door and Kuuya hovered right beside you, watching you fumble with your keys.

You weren't very good at hiding your anxiety after all.

Once the door opened, you stepped inside and held it for him.

“Come inside for a moment.” you murmured after clearing your throat.

You watched his throat bob up and down when he swallowed hard. He probably had many questions and, honestly, you couldn't blame him. You had no reason to invite him to your house.

At least not obvious reasons, that is.

He did as you told after a few seconds of hesitation, although he had confusion written all over his face.

“Why… why did you invite me in?” he finally asked while he watched you shrug off your coat and kick off your boots. You motioned for him to take off his shoes as well and leave them beside yours.

“Just something I gotta do.” you answered, observing him clumsily undo the knots on his shoes.

He cocked his head to the side, looking up at you.

“What?”

Once he was finished putting his shoes right beside yours, you beckoned him with your finger, and began walking deeper inside your house and towards your room, hoping he would follow.

He did, dumb shock plastered on his face, but still compliant.

You opened the door and motioned for him to enter. As soon as he was inside, you slammed the door behind you and locked it.

Kuuya's eyes were wide as he quickly turned to look at you. He seemed terrified, the poor thing, but this time you wouldn't back down. You couldn't.

“Shhh, it's okay. No need to be so scared” you shushed him as he opened his mouth, walking slowly towards him. You placed your hand on his chest and pushed him towards your bed.

When he plopped unceremoniously on the mattress, you looked at his pants.

He was already hard.

You smirked.

“Do you know why I brought you here?” you asked in a murmur while you leaned towards his trembling figure, wiping a few stray tears from his cheeks with your thumb and holding your weight over him with your other arm.

“N-no…?”

You cocked your head, actually surprised at his answer.

“Really? Are you really that clueless?” you traced his jaw with your finger, and he squirmed underneath you, rubbing his thighs together to get any friction on the bulge inside his pants.

“I…” he cleared his throat “I don't understand.”

“Well, I, for one, am not clueless you know.” your fingers traced the length of his neck, and you smiled when a few goosebumps pricked his skin.

He gulped.

“I know you jerked off to me earlier today.” you said flatly, with a sickening sweet voice while your finger now teased and rubbed his pebbled nipples through his shirt.

He gasped and you didn't know if it was from surprise or pleasure.

“I also know you followed me some weeks ago and jerked off in that bush outside my window.” you pointed to the window hidden behind your blinds and he followed your gaze, eyes watery and cheeks a bright red.

“And I know you steal my stuff and my trash so you can keep it.” he was still looking at your window when you palmed his bulge through his pants. He arched his back, moaning loudly, and you grinned maniacally at his reaction.

Pretty slut.

“Do you… D-do you think I'm disgusting?” he asked, shamelessly grinding his hips against your palm.

“Yeah, I do. I think you're disgusting and a creep.” he moaned at your words, but his eyes closed tightly, and a few more tears ran down his cheeks. He had a pained expression on his pretty face, like you had hurt his fragile feelings.

Apparently Kuuya knew how to tug on your heartstrings.

You moved your hand away from his pants, fully aware of the damp spot that had formed on the fabric.

“But so am I.” you completed and he opened his eyes wide, looking at you like you had just grown a second head.

“Seeing you so desperate and needy…” you shook your head in defeat “It does things to me, you know.”

“I-it does?” he asked, all doe eyed, blushing and hopeful. You sighed at the sight, trying to burn it forever into your brain.

“Mhm. Yeah. It makes me wanna eat you whole.”

Kuuya shuddered as you placed your hand back on his chest, gliding it towards his throat. You held his neck firmly for a second before you gently cupped his warm and reddened cheek. He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes like a cat.

“Will you let me, Kuuya?” you whispered.

“W-what?” He opened his still teary eyes, gazing at you expectantly.

“Will you let me eat you?”

A beat of silence went by and you almost felt the ugly head of shame peek into your mind, but then he nodded, a single tear falling onto your thumb.

“Y-yes.”

Like a thin thread snapping, you kneeled onto the ground and pulled his waist towards you, letting his legs hang limply on your sides. Your fingers trembled as you undid his belt buckle and you looked at him.

Kuuya was propping himself onto one of his elbows, his other hand covering his mouth as he watched you hastily take off his pants and boxers. His hard cock sprung free, leaking pathetically, and your mouth watered at the sight.

You were starving. 

It was time to eat.

Kuuya felt like he was dreaming. Or maybe he died and his very own heaven (if he would even be allowed there) was having you suck his painfully hard cock.

He forced his eyes to stay open so he could watch you. The way your tongue swirled on his head and pressed mercilessly on his slit – you had barely put his cock inside your mouth and he already felt like he was melting.

He knew he was sounding pathetic. He whined and squirmed against your hands while you kept his thighs open. It was so good, it was feeling so good he was losing control of his body.

When you started bobbing your head, hollowing your cheeks to suck him harshly, he thought he would die. It had to be wrong, to feel this good. It was criminal.

Kuuya moaned like a whore and, deep inside, in the still conscious part of his mind, he wondered if you liked it. He hoped you did, he hoped his pathetic high pitched groans made you soak your panties because he couldn't control them.

Not when you were sucking him so good.

He bucked his hips against your mouth, the sound of your gag snapping him out of his daze for a moment so he could mumble a “sorry”, but then you moaned. 

You moaned and the vibrations of your throat went through his cock and he lost it, completely. He held your head firmly, thrusting frantically into your mouth as he repeated “'m sorry! 'm sorry! 'm sorry!” until the words lost all meaning to him. With a stutter, his hips bucked again and he spilled inside your mouth, his slurred words elongating into a pornographic moan.

You opened your mouth wide, relaxing your throat as soon as his cum began spurting, eagerly swallowing the salty taste of him while he rode his orgasm until he couldn't take the stimulation of your soft mouth anymore. 

As you dabbed the drops of cum that had spilled from your mouth, he suddenly wondered, in the back of his mind, if you already had any practice doing this kind of stuff. He panted, face warm and red, dick twitching while he looked at you wiping your mouth and licking your fingers. And he felt jealous at the thought.

He wanted to be the only one. He couldn't handle the thought of you touching anyone else like that. He hated it. Hated it. He had to be the only one you'd touch like that. God, he wished he could go back in time to prevent you from touching anyone else, just so you'd always be his alone.

A few angry tears pricked in the corner of his eyes and he tackled you to the ground, surprising you with a hug.

“K-kuuya?!” you squeaked, the air leaving your lungs went he laid all his weight on you.

Kuuya began rubbing his cheek against yours, sharing the sweat that stuck to his forehead with your face, making you grimace.

“W-what's wrong?” You asked in a murmur, after reciprocating his hug.

He whined wordlessly and began untangling himself from you, holding himself up by his trembling arms.

And, for a long moment, he just stared at you.

You thought he looked beautiful. 

He wasn't exactly the most handsome man in the world, but to you, he looked angelic.

His lilac hair was disheveled and his face was flushed. His lips were a pretty red, as if he had bitten them too hard, and his eyes were half-lidded and clouded with lust and sheer adoration. It sent tingles down your spine. You wondered if anyone has ever looked at you like that, but you already knew that no one has ever held you in such high regard. It made your heart race and your core burn. 

You could sear the image of him under your eyelids and you would never tire of it.

He was gorgeous.

You tucked a strand of damp hair behind his ear and then cupped his cheek. Your thumb rubbed his skin gently and his eyes fluttered shut. He began leaning against your touch again, before he stopped himself and opened his eyes. You looked at him, puzzled, when he averted his gaze.

“U-um…” he began, after clearing his throat. You kept quiet, allowing for him to continue.

“C-can I… um. Can I eat you too?” He mumbled, closing his eyes tightly. You felt your face tingle at his words and his adorable embarrassment.

“Yes” you murmured and he opened his eyes wide “Yes, please.”

Kuuya quickly sat up on his knees, and looked around, apparently finally realizing you two were laying on the ground.

“Do you… want to move to the bed?” he asked bashfully, and you chuckled.

“Yes, it'd be more comfortable.”

He got up, holding out his hand to help you up as well. He didn't really have enough strength to pull you up, so you just held his hand tightly, not wanting to reject his help, as you gracelessly lifted yourself from the ground.

As soon as you were standing, you began pushing the waistband of your pants down, but Kuuya's hands quickly stopped you, holding you tightly. You widened your eyes as you looked at him.

“I… want to do that.” he said, bashfully.

Wow. Who would have thought he'd be so brazen for once.

You smiled, nodding, and laid on your bed, making yourself comfortable. 

You observed how Kuuya was already rock hard again and he had yet to touch you properly. He was insatiable for you and it made your pussy clench around nothing. 

He was going to be the death of you.

Kuuya, in a sudden development, decided that it didn't matter what happened in the past. What happened, happened. All he needed to do was make you forget about it all.

He needed to be good. He needed to fuck you so good that you'd forget anyone you might have hooked up with in the past. He needed to make you addicted to his tongue, his fingers and his cock so you'd always go back to him for more.

Granted, he didn't know how he was going to do that since he was a literal virgin, but he hoped his enthusiasm would convince you to give him more chances, until he had mapped every little crevice of your body and all the little buttons that made you squirm.

Kuuya licked his lips, slowly pulling the hem of your pants down while he kneeled on your bed. The sight of your soaked panties made him gasp loud, and he had to grip the base of his cock tightly, hissing as he threw his head back. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down while he swallowed hard, concentrating on not allowing himself to cum.

He couldn't allow himself to cum untouched just by looking at your wet cunt. At least not in front of you. Not right there. He would, however, be filing this image inside the safest corners of his brain to become prime masturbation material later on, that's for sure.

He leaned in, warm and shaky breath hitting the damp spot on your panties. His tongue lolled out unconsciously and he licked a long stripe over the fabric of your underwear.

He was so sure he had died. That's the only possible answer for all the things happening right at that moment. Not only did you suck him, now he was tasting your pussy?

Oh god. He was tasting your pussy.

It was like something broke inside of him, allowing all of his obsession to spill over as soon as he pressed his tongue against you. He moaned loudly, ripping your underwear away only to grip it tightly in his hand as he, at last, dived into you.

He was going to keep it to himself as a prize. 

Kuuya slurped and sucked and licked your wetness like a starved man. He wasn't focusing on the task at hand; instead, he was just getting drunk on your juices and your musk, moaning like someone who had just eaten the most delicious sweet. Oh he was so cute, all pussydrunk like that.

You hummed, gently holding a fistful of his hair as you grinded lightly against his eager tongue. You… probably weren't going to cum if he didn't suck you with a little bit more intent, but you figured you'd just let him enjoy himself for a bit more.

Just looking at his eyes rolling and hearing the sinful whimpers and grunts he was letting out was already doing something to you.

Soon enough, however, Kuuya seemed to discover that one little bundle of nerves. He gave it a few kitten licks before curling his lips against it to suck, and it was finally your turn to roll your eyes.

Your hand gripped his hair tighter and your back arched while he rolled his tongue against your clit; eyes wide when he realized he must have done something right.

One of his hands tentatively rubbed against your entrance and you cooed.

“Yes Kuuya, that's a good boy… Put one of your fingers inside me, baby”

He gasped against your pussy, the praise clearly making him lose his focus. A mean part of your brain thought about stuffing him with a butt plug just so you could make him wag a little tail whenever you praised him, but that would have to be an adventure for a later time.

He began pumping two fingers inside you, mouth going slack in awe once he heard the shlick of your wet cunt, and drool pooling at the side of his mouth.

He was so clueless and so, so cute. You couldn't help but think about actually making a mess of him.

“Kuuya” you said, not as a moan, but as a call. He stopped his motions for a second and looked at you – doe eyed, mouth and chin still glistening with your cum.

You licked your lips at the sight.

“I'll sit up a bit. I want you to lay down on the bed.” You said, as you shifted your position and rested your back against the headrest, making him crawl towards you to keep his head between your legs.

You watched as he slowly rested his body against the bed, a little yelp coming out of his lips when his hardened length pressed against the mattress.

“Good boy.” You praised him as you ran your knuckles on the sticky skin of his cheek and he whined.

“Now I want you to hump the bed while you eat me out.” you said, flatly.

Kuuya's eyes widened like saucers.

“W-what?” 

“You're hard, aren't you?” You ran your hand through his head, caressing his hair gently “I want you to fuck the bed while you eat me out. I want to watch you move your hips like a pretty slut. Can you do that for me?” 

He blinked, staying silent as you kept threading your fingers through his hair. The furious blush that spread through his face and neck was anything but unnoticeable.

“I can give you a pillow, if you'd rather hump it instead of the bed” you added, figuring he was probably already addicted to humping his own pillow like a dog in heat, so it wouldn't hurt to make him comfortable while he obeyed you.

“Y-yes… I would like a pillow then.” He whispered.

You mouthed an okay and gave him your favorite pillow – the one you usually hugged while sleeping. You wondered if he knew that. And by the way his eyes lit up when he saw the pillow, you figured he probably did.

“Take off your shirt? Please?” you asked him, after he positioned the pillow where he wanted it to be.

Kuuya pouted at your request, and as you were about to tell him he didn't need to do it if it made him uncomfortable, his trembling hands moved to unbutton his shirt slowly. You reached out to him, pausing his hands. He looked at you, sad puppy eyes glistening with tears.

“Do you want to take off your shirt? You don't have to if you don't want to.” you reassured him.

He sniffled, looking away.

“I-I don't mind.” he mumbled and you knew he was probably hiding his discomfort to please you and would never tell you the truth. 

Kuuya seemed thirsty for your approval in every little thing, to the detriment of himself. It made a little monster inside of you roar with the desperate need to keep him tucked away, safe with you, just like a dragon who hoards gold in a faraway cave.

Your thumb caressed his still trembling hands.

“Then just leave these buttons undone. You don't have to take it off.”

“But-”

“Kuuya.” You said his name firmly, making him flinch despite the gentle touch of your hand against his. You noticed how his cock twitched at that as well. “It's okay. Now please be a good boy.”

You went back to your position against the headrest and opened your legs, pussy still dripping and throbbing with the lack of attention. He gulped, licking his lips and nodded furiously.

It was hard, coordinating his movements. All Kuuya had known his whole life was to jerk off or hump his pillow, but now he had to suck you, lick you, pump his fingers inside you AND hump your precious pillow. Not that he was complaining. He loved it. It was Heaven.

But he felt a bit self conscious about his abilities, or lack thereof.

Just like he was self conscious when you asked him to strip. He hated his body – he was so scrawny and weak-looking, he felt disgusting. What if you hated him? What if you wanted something else in a partner? He couldn't risk having you uninterested in him! Not when he got what he so desperately wanted!

Showing you his body would have to wait until he was either convinced you truly wanted him, or until he got you locked up in his apartment. The last option was the most tempting to him – having you shackled to his barred window would be a guarantee that you wouldn't run away after all.

But for now, all he could do was his best – all while suffocating you with his affections until you drowned in them.

The squelching sounds of your pussy as he pumped his fingers inside you were driving him insane.

Kuuya humped your pillow like a dumb dog in heat – his hips almost bounced against the bed with how hard and deep he was thrusting. He couldn't wait until he was balls deep inside your cunt, the leaky tip of his cock kissing your cervix until he filled you whole.

He felt dizzy. He half registered how loud his moans were; all he could think was about your cum all over his face and how he fucked your pillow, mean and fast.

“C-curl your fingers up, baby” you whined, pulling his hair, and this finally got his attention.

He acquiesced, because he was good. He was so good for you and he was going to learn everything you liked because no one else would ever touch your body ever again. 

Only him.

And he had to learn it all to keep you satisfied and happy, so you'd praise him and fuck the brains out of him as a reward. It was the perfect exchange! You'd be his and he'd be yours and nothing could ever keep his grubby hands away from you now.

He would do whatever you asked.

He felt a spongy texture against the pad of his fingers, and when you mewled, legs spasming around him, he knew he had found gold, somehow.

He halted the movement of his hips to focus on swirling his tongue against your clit and fingering your cunt at an insane speed. He would for sure be extremely sore the next day, but he only cared about your loud moans and how your thighs were squishing his head so tight and so good.

When you finally came, he groaned at the feeling of your cunt squeezing his fingers inside you, pulling them deeper inside with a vice grip, and the taste of your cum wetting his whole face. He reached his own peak at the thought of how HE was the one who made you curl your toes and soak your bed sheets like that.

And another proof that he was made for you was added into his mind.

But it was too fucking much. For the first time in his life, Kuuya felt drunk. He needed more or he would die. He needed more more more more.

Maybe more than you could even give.

He didn't let you breathe at all.

As soon as your eyes fluttered open again, coming down from your high, he began crawling on top of you, panting like a feral dog. You watched as a sticky thread of his cum momentarily connected his dick to your now wet pillow and despite all that, he was still fucking hard. How was that even possible was beyond you, but you didn't have time to linger on those thoughts when he hovered over you.

“I wanna cum in you” he moaned, still moving his hips, humping your mound. His eyes were glazed over, like he wasn't all there with you, and his pupils were blown wide.

“I wanna cum in you” he repeated, panting, a little bit of drool spilling from the corner of his mouth “I need to cum in-inside you. I need to fill you up, please. Let me breed you? Please? I wanna be inside you and hnng- pump you full of my cum, please? Let me cum inside, please? Please please please let me breed you, please” he slurred nonstop, almost incoherently, while he frantically moved his hips like he couldn't control them.

He was so drunk with you that he was desperate and talking like he had never done before. 

It was pathetic. 

And so fucking hot.

“Shhh baby, it's okay” you cooed, petting his head to calm him down while your other hand squeezed his hip to try and still his movements “You can fuck me, it's okay. I'm not going anywhere.”

He whined, nodding his head and sniffling as a few tears ran down his cheeks, seemingly coming back to his senses a little bit.

“It's okay, love” you pulled his head towards you, cradling him on your chest. You kept on petting him, while your other hand softly scratched his back in order to calm him down.

Once his breathing was a little less erratic, you let him raise his chest again.

“You okay?” you murmured.

He nodded, rubbing his eyes. Then he looked down at his cock and back at you. You chuckled. He really was insatiable.

You threw your arms around his neck, eyes half-lidded.

“Then go on and fill me up” you murmured against his ear, enjoying the shiver that went down his spine.

You didn't need to ask twice.

Kuuya was so nervous.

He was about to be inside his love! He was about to fill them up with his cum, but the thought itself was already throwing him to the edge. He would have to do his best to not cum once he felt your gummy walls squeeze his cock.

Easier said than done.

Kuuya threw his head back again, a guttural moan erupting from his chest as soon as he got the head past your entrance. He heaved loudly, focusing so hard on not spilling himself so soon, whimpering whenever your walls clenched around him.

“Y-you okay?” you asked breathlessly and all he could do was nod with a pained expression on his face.

“It's okay, take it slow” you added, gently rubbing his thighs. 

You were an angel, truly. Only you would have so much patience with someone as pathetic as him. He had to fuck you good! He had to show you that you could depend on him! This way you would keep pampering him like he so desperately needed.

Through pure determination, Kuuya pushed himself further, moaning pornographically with every inch that went inside you. Once you had taken him down his hilt, he exhaled, shakily.

“T-there you go…” you groaned “Filling me up so much, my good boy.”

Kuuya whimpered. He was torn between asking you not to say those things so he wouldn't cum, and lapping up your praise like a parched man.

He began moving, slowly thrusting in and out of your wet cunt, and he felt like he was melting all over again. He was going to be just a puddle, with how good it felt. You clenched tightly around his length like you were trying to milk him dry and he realized that he was probably going to be addicted to this from then on – there was no going back.

His nails dug into the plush of your hips as he began pounding into you, fast and erratic, the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass and the wet noise of his cock being drenched in your juices were so dirty and he loved it. He couldn't help the “Ah! Ah! Ah!” he kept letting out to the rhythm of his thrusts.

You were just so good, so made for him, so his.

With a sudden movement, Kuuya hooked his arms under your legs and pushed you. He always saw that position in those porn videos, and he always wanted to do it to you. The mating press. He wanted to push himself inside you as far as he could and then fill you up with his jizz. Ah, just thinking about it made his cock twitch inside of you.

He wondered if you could feel his fast and loud heartbeat in your pussy, since his cock was so damn hard. It would be almost painful if it wasn't for your glorious wetness sucking him in so good and taking care of him.

You grabbed one of Kuuya's hand and brought it to your clit, urging him to draw little circles on it to bring you over that edge. He rubbed it quick and merciless, looking down at how your pussy was swallowing his cock, so wet that a ring of white had formed around its base as he fucked you, and how your clit also twitched under his fingers.

Not long after, you felt your abdomen tighten and your walls clench around him as you reached your orgasm, arching your back while you desperately pushed his hand away from your clit to avoid overstimulation.

Watching you cum so hard because of his very own ministrations made Kuuya cross over that edge right away as well. With a high pitched moan, he spurted his load inside you – so much cum that it spilled down  to your bed and Kuuya mindlessly tried to push it back into you while he rode his high.

His chest was heaving and his eyes were glazed over, the look of pure adoration still visible in his pink orbs as he looked at you, sweaty and thoroughly fucked (by him! Not by a toy! Much less another man! Not ever again.)

He wanted more. He needed more. He felt like he could cum over and over again inside you and fuck you silly for hours on end.

But as he opened his dry mouth to say these words, a sudden tiredness took over his body and his eyelids got impossibly heavy.

Kuuya fell down into your arms, unconsciously snuggling your figure, his softening dick still inside you as he cuddled your body and placed kisses on your sticky skin. It wasn't long until his breathing became steady and sleep took over his body.

You decided you'd let 5 or 10 minutes pass before you'd wake him up in order to drink some water, eat some protein bars and join you in the shower so you two could clean up.

But damn it, was he adorable while sleeping. He had a little pout on his bottom lip, but besides that, his face finally looked relaxed. The first time you've seen him like that in all those months you two have been coworkers.

Pride swelled in your chest as you thought about how you're the first one to ever see him like that.

The scared wet cat finally in your arms, ready for you to coddle, kiss, fuck, take care of and protect from any harm.

You unconsciously tightened your hold on him, feeling a wave of possessiveness so vile that it made you dizzy for a second.

It was a bit too much, what you seemed to feel for him. But you weren't willing to analyze that at that moment. He was right there in your arms, clutching you like you were his lifeline – and that was more than enough for you.

At least your anxiety and paranoia had been completely quelled. If he was so desperate to fuck you after you confessed you were a bit creepy for him as well, then maybe it was okay for you to be more upfront with your desires, just like he was.

Even though he truly would never guess he was being so obvious.

It was so cute, how he thought you really didn't know about anything he ever did. Not the stalking, nor the stealing. And not even the little thoughtful things he could straight up tell you because you'd genuinely appreciate them. 

However, regardless of him telling you or not, you just knew everything. Your poor little baby wasn't very subtle, after all.

Therefore, you very much knew Kuuya had stayed behind with you at work just because he knew you'd be there. He thought he was elusive, but you could pick up his intentions from miles and miles away. As soon as you first saw him idling alone in that kitchen, it all clicked perfectly in your head.

Kuuya was so silly and so dumb, sometimes. But it was okay because that made him so, so cute that you could eat him up.

Over and over and over again.