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#yeah this might be the most indulgent yet!
lycanfoe · 3 months
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herbwolf tears (she/her for herb)
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moeblob · 2 months
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Deacon loves two things: Ymber and digging himself a grave.
Fulj hates one thing: Deacon.
#my characters#waiting on some info on the next commission so i indulged in ocs today bc i doubt i will have as much time for lil comics for a bit#deacon is so devoted hes like yeah i would kill for a deity that could easily kill anything himself but yknow teehee#and fulj just did you tell him you needed therapy also does he even know youd murder in his name#deacon caught red handed haha no of course i havent told him it should be obvious enough haha.... and its in his defense not his name :c#man really does have some issues but i love him so much and hes so devoted but like. unhealthily after a while#he does in fact need a chill pill and therapy but to be fair#ymber has needed therapy for centuries and yet he just bottles it all up and suffers so#its pretty unhealthy until they yell at each other one (1) time bc they are so insecure about things and get mad over very valid reasons#but then theyre like you know what that was necessary and i still want to stay by your side if you let me#and then fulj is like dude hey sorry you seem really happy did you fu- and ymber is like no please stop there we have not#fulj just squinting cause have not is very different than will not but whatever she doesnt wanna think about that with deacon involved ew#and eventually fulj is like hey ymber im sorry to say but i really do hate deacon and i dont even know why but he makes me uncomfortable#while deacon is just. in the room. hearing this and thinking how he knows she thinks hes weird but wow that wording hurts#and ymber doesnt wanna fill in memories better forgotten by fulj which she had forcefully removed#so he just says oh well his hair and clothing are black and you had someone in the past that you might see in him and its not a pleasant en#so you know maybe its that idk#and fulj is then WHATST i was rude to him for someone i cant even remember? lame im gonna try SO HARD to be nice to him now#and deacon just still sitting there with some food like this is v awkward and i wish i could not be here for it#and later he asks ymber about who he resembled and as ymber is descibing her it clicks in deacons head and he gets really sad#that he might somehow remind fulj of the woman she loved before she was punished for loving a mortal#and he feels kinda bad pestering her so much with his curiosities about deities and he kinda gets it#the fact hes close to ymber might remind her at the core that she was once that close with a mortal if not closer#anyway story time in the tags again#im so obsessed with these peeps and i have made them suffer so much but they do all end on a happy note#its still funny and nice to me that while fulj is creeped out by deacon and doesnt like talking to him#he still expresses the most emotions to her - he tries hard to remain serious around ymber and collected and obedient at all times#and when out and about with ymber he has to be intimidating and refuses smiling but fulj?? all sunshine and smiles and emotions easy to rea#and she is just that is so weird go away i hate you
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electronicfurbymusic · 5 months
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Man I hate how I kinda just can't post about this one EDM producer that I've been extremely obsessed with for like 3 years at this point, not because I'm afraid of it being "cringe" or whatever but because his fanbase (especially on Reddit) lowkey has a history of being extremely mean to anyone who liked him in a way they didn't 100% approve of (which would definitely include me if they found me because I literally ship myself with him and am absolutely insane about him and all that stuff you know) so uh that sucks I guess. Maybe someday idk
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godnectar · 1 month
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........pls gib me Yan dilf in skimpy outfit pls🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺
・✶ 。゚☆ YANDERE DILF ☆ ; drabble
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★ note: had one of the craziest and nicest nights of this year fr, so of course I had to indulge on this ask 😫😫 ( y'all can send more requests here! )
cw: gn!reader, big man has kids, not in a relationship yet, neighbors au!, slight feminization, subby yan, kinda suggestive, and reader is a bit mean. I'm just showing my pathetic boy some affection <3
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I now seriously can't stop thinking about a yandere dilf! who would absolutely wear and do anything for his dearest darling.
it doesn't really matter what you're asking for. whether you want him in the tightest and most transparent shirt ever, or just wanna see him getting riled up while trying on some slutty shorts —maybe even a skirt if you're into that— yandere dilf! will always be up to indulging into your desires.
pictures, videos, calls; you'll receive whatever you want as long as you promise to get your hands on yandere dilf! as soon as you arrive back in the neighborhood. he would purposefully send the kids to daycare or let them have a sleepover at a friend's place, growing extremely excited and completely aware that he will be busy all night long with you at his side.
as embarrassing, humiliating, and probably pathetic as this might be for any other man, yandere dilf! thrieves and lives from your attention.
grope him, degrade him, and strip him to the sweet, matching underwear you've bought him some nights ago— he doesn't care. yandere dilf! certainly doesn't care, as he can only focus on the way your hands roam all over his body, too lost in the feeling of your lips kissing and sucking on every inch of newly uncovered skin.
you might be just using him, feeding bits of your ego, and destroying part of his in the process of satisfying your fantasies... but guess what? he's completely fine with it. he would do anything for you anytime, if at least that means having you show yandere dilf! some love.
"I swear– I swear you can do whatever you want with me... Just keep loving me tonight, yeah?"
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© godnectar 2024. please do not modify, translate, or repost my works on any platform without my permission.
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astralnymphh · 27 days
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been having ellie williams eating pussy fixation lately, with references to a breeding kink (on readers side).. and breeding denial (on ellie's side).. self-indulgent tbh. witerally just a quickly written drabble. might elaborate another time. [ellie img from claymorrr on pinterest.] here we go! ☆
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"E-Ellie— fuck, need 'ur fingers."
An airy sea, darksome and stuffy, eats the glass behind your thin curtains. In turn, the nooks that escape even the most most lurid of light in daytime, have shifted into that sea. Utterly. No silhouettes, no screens, no photo collages of you and her are bound to be seen. Quiet, homely ambiance is one of the things keeping your ears attentive to the bedroom around you, and what's happening inside of it.
Everything. Every sonant breath, every choked gasp, painted eerily— except Ellie.
Dim light a source at the head of your bed, only the shapes closest to it are palely painted. Auburn mane, cedar brown lashes, the heads of your knees, the head in-between them. Feasting sensually on the hallowed breeding grounds hot at the center of you, painted filthily in the sounds it made. Cradled in the perfect light, just enough for your pupils to zero in, and never zero out, consumed by the movement of her working her hungry muscle in and out of your drenched entrance.
"Huh," amused by your please-less plead, your clit is greeted with a scoff against it. "But you've got my tongue, don't need my fingers babe." that serene, soundproof whisper trying to convince you. So sure that what is given, is what will be taken.
Yet, a pit of greed takes root in your brain, and you find anything below the stretch of her painfully lacking.
As Ellie tucks her tongue back inside, lapping at your wetness, you pursue in tales of whines. "Wanna be full of you," leaves your bitten lips, higher-pitched and pulled across your teeth as that knot inside you responds to her tongue; swells on the mouthy sounds that come from it rolling stripes through your folds. Tighter, tighter, it tenses deliciously— and elapses before you can even focus on it, earning her but a frustrated huff out of you, "It's not enough."
"Don't wanna come on my tongue?"
Your hips snap forward for her once again withdrawn mouth anyway, afraid to loose any string of sensation. "Ellie," you fuss her name, and that pussy-eating grin of hers curls into a shit-eating one, laying her risen, pinched and dapple cheeks on the plush of your thigh. Annoyingly cute— just emphasize the annoying part.
"What's up?" clearly, she wants to get under your skin. Tenderly question you, deny, deny, ignite the sparks and quench herself on how cute you are. Grasping that something henpecks you to act so neglected and taking it into advantage like a sagacious cunt, bringing you to orgasm on her plan alone.
Unreserved, your lips.
"Want you t' get me pregnant," breathlessly muffled, humility has fled you. Dirty delights scorching at the hills of your cheeks, reach spoken ends at the tips of your tongue. "Els, I want you— you to.." the recital becomes lost in the haze of your head.
"Yeah?" her cheek tilts off your thigh.
"Yeah."
Her fingertips sunk in the crevice of your crotch and thigh, exert pressure, scooting you completely up to her chin. Silently setting up her answer; her play-along, earnest, and downturned eyes telling you to want otherwise. "Mhh, don't think you're ready for that. Knock you up on a whim? C'mon, babe"
Spoken replies don't necessarily represent gut truths, the telltale opposite answer present in her swallow. Ellie thinks, if she lets herself feed into that desire now— she won't stop.
"Just take my tongue, okay?"
Though weak, you agree, "Okay."
"Good girl," she grates, as if her throat had dried in pausing all attention from your pussy. Her hands float off your hips for a split second before smacking back down, admiring the way it ripples and jiggles the fat there, collecting her peachy, bottom lip beneath her top teeth and tugging it inside. Enamored with your cunt, and how it leaks sleek in the yearn for her fill, her claim, her name.
Her babies, even?
"So fuckin' pretty, gonna let me take my time? Fill you up when we're ready?" coos at it, reaching a lousy hand down to grope herself. In so doing, she brews a moan of her own ache she simmers at, "Fuck." and takes her free fingers as an opportunity to slap your folds, splaying your labia nastily with her index and ring, and hawking spit to your hole— honestly, just to watch it drip like syrup through your pussy lips.
She really is unreserved.
Cold when it hits— you twitch, but hotly-stirring when her tongue peeks out to smear it up to your clit, eyes shut with careful precision— you suck your stomach in.
"That's more like it."
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rafesaddiction · 6 months
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The tight end (or: Football Lessons) – Rafe Cameron x Reader
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Summary: You need to study for your exams and Rafe wants to watch the football game with his friends. Studying is boring and you need a little help from the boys. Rafe is not pleased.
Warnings: mdni! – heavy smut, spanking, rough sex, p in v, semi-public sex (they can hear you), fingering (they sure can see that), possessiveness, kinda size kink cause rafe is big, bratty!reader, grumpy!rafe, dom!rafe, mean!rafe, amused!barry, curious!kelce, i-can't-with-this!topper
Word count: 1.5k
Tagging @dream-pink , @dope-trope-105 since this is most definitely Rafe Cameron smut. Enjoy!
a/n This is none of the stuff I said I was working on, just something short to indulge myself. Something light and fun. It kinda takes place in the same “universe” as Hole Practice, but it's not part 2. Comments, reblogs and likes are more than welcome. They keep me from going insane. Go Panthers!
“Gonna get myself another beer,” Rafe groaned as he lifted himself of the la-z-boy.
“Might need something stronger to suffer through this shit show.”
He looked at Barry who had made the comment and was pointing at the tv screen with his beer bottle.
On the screen the Panthers were literally fucked up the ass. And they deserved it as they delivered their worst performance ever. This game really sucked. Rafe hadn't bet any money, but he took it kinda personal when his favorite team performed this shitty. It totally ruined his mood. To be fair, it didn’t take much to ruin Rafe's mood, but this was like in the top 20 of mood-ruining events. And this was supposed to be a nice relaxing evening, watching the game with his friends. Yeah, Barry was now officially one of his friends and none of Rafe's kook friends ever doubted his status – if they had, that would totally have ruined Rafe's mood.
“While you're at it, pretty boy, fetch me another one too,” Barry shook his half-empty bottle and grinned at Rafe, who had stopped on his way to leave the living room.
“Anything else I can do for you?” Rafe said in a sarcastic tone, frowning.
“You have some of these tiny snack bites? Diced cheese with a toothpick?”
Rafe shot Barry a deathly glare, who just chuckled.
“Uhm, I'd like another beer, please,” Topper's voice came from the left and Rafe's head spun around, making the blond shrink into the couch and mumble some sort of apology. Next to him, Kelce snickered.
Frowning, clenching his jaws, Rafe went to the kitchen – without killing one of his friends, yet.
Still frowning, Rafe rummaged through the fridge to get four bottles of beer. There were actually some cheese bits, which he left there, but he took a bag of chips out of the pantry, and returned to the living room.
And stopped in the doorway, almost dropping the beer at the sight of you sitting on the armrest of Barry's la-z-boy. You had your back to Rafe and were obviously engaged in some very intense conversation with Barry. You had drawn up your legs and were kinda kneeling sideways on the armrest. You wore one of Rafe's t-shirts, too big for you, but barely covering your ass. Your legs were naked – apart from the cat paw socks you wore.
“What are you doing here?”
You were not supposed to be here. You were supposed to be upstairs, studying for your upcoming exam. You were definitely not supposed to be cuddling up to Barry.
Rafe was fuming as you craned your head back to him and gazed at him with innocent eyes.
When you saw him, a sweet smile appeared on your face.
“Hi, Rafey.” Rafe flinched at the hideous nickname, but you continued speaking. “I was looking for you. I needed some help with opening a water bottle and Barry was so nice to help me.”
Barry sat up, looking at Rafe, winking at him and showing said water bottle.
“Always a pleasure to help a damsel in distress,” he said, his gold tooth showing as he grinned at Rafe whose face had turned red by now, his features tensed up, his nostrils flaring.
“And now he’s telling me all about the tight end.”
You smiled.
Barry grinned.
Kelce snickered.
Topper choked.
Rafe growled.
“Upstairs. Now.”
“But –” you turned towards Rafe, your feet dangling from the armrest, you looked up at him, pouting.
“Now!” Rafe barked and you flinched.
Having put the bottles and chips on the coffee table, Rafe walked up to you, grabbed you, threw you over his shoulder and carried you with him, despite your squealing protests.
Rafe sat you down on the kitchen island. You looked at him, with big eyes and sulky lips. His hands rested on either side of you.
“The fuck were you doing? I specifically told you not to come downstairs!”
He glared at you through narrowed eyes, tilting his head to the side.
You lowered your gaze, your fingers playing with the hem of the shirt you were wearing.
“I was bored,” you admitted in a soft voice. Then you looked up, just with your eyes, meeting his.
“Please don't be mad at me,” you nibbled on your bottom lip, effectively directing his gaze. Then your lips parted, you breathed out and he saw the corners of your mouth twitch. “Rafey…”
He let out an angry growl, grabbed you, flipped you around and you squealed as your chest was pressed down on the hard surface of the kitchen island. Rafe shoved up your t-shirt and his hand hit your butt, only covered by your pink lace panties.
“Don't. Ever. Call. Me. That. Again!” Rafe growled between gritted teeth and each word was accompanied by a slap on your ass.
You cried out, then tried to muffle your cries and whimpers by covering your mouth with both your hands, as Rafe gave your ass a very thorough spanking. He didn't care that your whining and crying could surely be heard in the living room as he hadn't bothered to close any of the doors.
One hand holding you down as you tried to wriggle your way out, while his other hand mercilessly slapped your ass and thighs, leaving marks in the form of his hand print.
His palm started burning and your skin must have felt as if in flames by now.
He was panting heavily behind you, his eyes on your ass as he pulled down your panties. He noticed the soaking wet stain and his hard cock twitched inside his pants.
You were a whimpering mess, your body trembling and only focused on the burning sensation his hand had caused, or you would have noticed what he was up to and you would surely have complained that you were still too sore from when Rafe had fucked you under the shower this morning.
You cried out as he pushed his hard cock into your tight pussy. He growled as he felt your walls clamping around him. He gave your already sore ass another slap, then started thrusting into you in a relentless rhythm, deep and hard, punishing you by using your body to satisfy his own needs. Your cries turned into whimpering sounds as he gave you what your body so desperately craved for.
Whatever you tried to say came out as a whining noise. His name was the only intelligible word you were able to utter.
“Rafe,” you cried.
“Rafe,” you moaned.
“Rafe,” you begged.
He grabbed the back of your neck, pulled you up, made you turn your head and his lips met yours in a fervent kiss, devouring and bruising. He felt you clench so hard around him and moaning into his mouth as you came around him. Pushing your trembling chest flush against the surface, he fucked you through that orgasm, savoring your heated body's uncontrolled convulsing, your shameless moaning and enjoying knowing that he did this to you, that he was the only one who made you feel this way.
Rafe came with a groan, his cock buried up to the hilt inside your soaking pussy, filling you with his hot cum. He felt how you tensed up at the sensation and your walls clenched, milking him.
When he pulled out, you whimpered.
“Shhh…” He caressed your back as he cleaned you with a kitchen towel and put your panties back on.
Rafe cradled you into his arms and carried you back to the living room.
Barry chuckled, but didn't say a word as Rafe shot him a menacing glance.
Rafe reclined in his chair and you cuddled up to him, burying your face at his heaving chest. You were still trembling, your legs drawn up to your own chest and you were clinging to Rafe, when he caressed your back with one hand, the other hand holding a beer bottle as he focused on the screen again where the Panthers had somehow managed to turn the game around.
Rafe's hand trailed along your thigh and you flinched. You pressed your mouth against his chest and he heard you whimper as his fingers brushed over the sore skin. And not only he could hear your little whining sounds has he grabbed your ass.
Barry looked at you from the corner of his eyes and then grinned at Rafe, slightly shaking his head, lifting his bottle to drink.
Kelce licked his lips as his eyes moved over your body.
Topper stared at the tv screen, clutching his bottle so hard, his knuckles turned white.
Rafe’s hand shoved your shirt up, rubbed over your bruised cheek. His fingertips pushed your panties to the side and slid between your folds, eliciting a sweet mewling sound from your lips.
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2kiran · 5 months
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❝ 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 ❞ ♱ JUJUTSU KAISEN.
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⸝⸝ ᵕ̈ ིྀ ‹ 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘, 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐇𝐄𝐑, 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐄𝐓. 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓 ! ⁺ ˖ pervert! jjk men.
✶ featuring. nanami kento. fushiguro toji. kamo choso.
␥ streaming. angels in tibet by amaarae.
✶ contains. top male reader. self indulgence. taller! reader. boxer stealing. pillow humping. stalking-ish. size kink. obsession. overstimulation. voice kink. dumbification. rough sex. marking.
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NANAMI KENTO
let’s be honest. he’d be the most ‘normal one’.
he’s the man you’d least expect to sneak into your room the second you’re gone to inhale the scent of you—that’s coming right off your used boxers.
it’s gross, fucking disgusting, but KENTO can’t help it. fuck, you looked too cute in your sleep. dreaming of who-knows-what, but he knows that it’s far from innocent when he caught the sight of your cum.
god, KENTO sometimes really wishes that he could be the replacement to your underwear. the one you’d cum inside of—yeah, he’s fucked up and apparently it’s your fault.
he has memorized the sound of your footsteps. when he hears you coming (he wished you were), he immediately rushes out without a trace. taking your boxers with him.
but one day, you finally catch him. this time, KENTO won’t run. being away from you is something he can’t dream of.
“kento?” he’s got a hand on his cock and your favorite underwear to his nose. his eyes are wide and a blush is spread across his cheeks, he knows it’s wrong and just not him, yet he cums right when his name slips from your pretty lips.
if you decide to finally fuck him, he’s crumbling. fuck his brains out, his stress melting away the moment your tip breaches his hole. a few thrusts and he already can’t think anymore, only thing inside of his dumb, fucked out brain is the way you hit his prostate just right.
when KENTO cums, he cums hard. he finishes quite quickly, so go easy on him. he can definitely get overstimulated and don’t blame him for becoming a bit of a masochist.
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FUSHIGURO TOJI
it’s the small gestures you offer him that drew TOJI to you.
you simply offered to carry one of the items he was carrying and he’s biting the inside of his cheek to weakly prevent his imagination from running wild.
he’s still got a sliver of shame. completely in denial even though there’s a bulge in his pants when you merely stand close to him.
your height makes him feel small. he’s tall himself, but he doesn’t complain when he has to cast his gaze upwards just to look into your eyes.
and he doesn’t complain as you finally bend him over this stupid desk.
“mm..ngggh—yes, oh shit, fuuuuck, b..baby,” he whines, head tuck under his elbow. the edge of the furniture is practically stabbing his stomach, but your cock is filling him up so well that he can barely register the pain digging into his skin. you’re hitting that spot, his eyes rolling back when you bite down on him.
TOJI almost laughs when you think you’ve been too rough. worrying about the marks you’ve left on his scarred body. you’re so cute.
he’s loud when you fuck him. letting you hear every moan as his sounds make you fully aware of how good he’s feeling. the fact that he managed to have your cock inside of him is shocking.
how you treat him as a human, not some machine. you seem like a giant compared to him and yet you’re kind. kinder than anyone he’s ever met and how do you expect that he doesn’t want you to fuck him?
you’re strong. you can obviously carry him against the wall as you bully your dick into him without much of a struggle.
“hey,” TOJI calls, his deep voice poking your dazed out state. “yeah..?” he turns to face you, looking at you dead in the eye. “wanna fuck me against a—” he tries, “no.”
please indulge in him. he might just lose his mind.
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KAMO CHOSO
please be kind to him. or don’t. he’s jerking off to you either way.
it’s not his fault he’s obvious. you’re crazy; what do you mean he’s done nothing but stare at you for the past hour?
CHOSO’s so fucking whiny. you might want to tape his mouth shut. don’t ask him why he retreats after an interaction with you, and you better not ask him why his pillow is so wet.
he’s humping his pillow while trying to recreate your voice in his head. you sound so good, the small cracks as you speak to him then trying to cover it up just makes his dick twitch.
not-so proud whimperer. he’s obviously embarrassed. his cock against the plushness of the item can’t compare to your hand. it’s so soft, yet your finger teasing the shaft would be much better.
forgive him as he bashfully crowds you against the wall, begging for you to fuck him because he can’t take it anymore. his fingers can’t do the work for him and he sure ain’t hell using anything or anyone else.
“gaah—hmmf!” CHOSO gasps, hand grasping the mattress beneath him. “please.. harder, i want you haa—h..arder.” he’s pretty when he pleads for you to go harsher, rougher. his hole clenches around you, like it doesn’t want you to pull out.
don’t make fun of him as he’s completely out of it, slightly panicking because he thinks you got him pregnant.
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⋆₊+ honorable knight. @Unfunnyjest. @mag-ma. @cloudintheway. masterlist. taglist.
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eddiernunson · 4 months
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Selfish | Steddie x Fem!Reader | 18+
Summary: Reader is torn as she wants two people at once, and she figures it's impossible...in the sense that they would never want her. She is proven wrong after making an accidental audience with Eddie one night...
Warnings: voyeurism, perv!Eddie, public smut, masturbation (f + m), a little bit of Steve x reader, double penetration...and lots of self indulgent writing.
Authors' Note: Yeah this is just self indulgent. That's all. I'd want them both. <3
Word Count: 10.8k
Selfish.
On a regular day, it’s hard not to feel completely selfish. There’re a million different voices in your head telling you to make a damn choice. Not just telling, but begging. 
Not just in your head, but in your life. Your friend and confidant, Robin is one of the many voices telling you so.
You can’t help it, it started so innocently. During the course of the school year, you happen to start thinking that Eddie Munson is damn fine. Your paths barely cross, only seeing him across the cafeteria at lunch or the occasional party to sell. Something about him drew you in. His hair, his hands, his strong forearms, his lust for life, that slutty little waist… He is enticing, hypnotising.
It’s not like you’re ever going to get with someone who you’ve never spoken to unless you somehow drag him into a hallway closet. Oh, isn’t that idea ever tempting?
It’s an uneventful day at school, save for the random graffiti anonymously placed on each class room door. There were several suspects, the perpetrator found but not announced, much to the entire school’s dismay.  
When Robin meets you at your regular table, she has a litany of complaints up her sleeve. If you don’t stop her, she can talk for hours about any given subject that passes through her brain. At this point, from an entire summer and autumn working with her on top of spending many hours shooting the shit with her, you’re ridiculously used to it. You might even call it charming.
As usual, you listen with an empathetic, yet distracted ear. Your eyes flicker to Munson every now and then, appreciating the way his muscle shirt shows off his toned arms. Usually, they’re engulfed by his large leather jacket, but on this unusually hot autumn day he is taking advantage of the warmer weather.
Oh, and so am I, you think to yourself, eyeing him up and down appreciatively.
Your eyes flicker back to Robin, holding back a giggle at her expression. She knows about your crush of course, not that you’d tried to hide it. Robin would come up with schemes to set you up with him, but there’s one little obstacle.
“You’re shameless, you know that?” She accuses, a half smile on her face. She’s being playful, as always. “One of these days, you’re going to have to make up your mind.”
This conversation is repeated, always on replay. It’s one of your little games. “I mean,” you start cheekily, “who said anything about talking to them?”
She shakes her head, quiet laughter leaving her lips. “You are impossible.”
See, Robin knew your secret. Not only were you infatuated with Eddie, but with your coworker as well. Steve.
Steve is a bit more realistic; you suppose. After all, you work part time with him, up to 25 hours a week. Most of the job is spent moving tapes from place to place, categorizing, and talking shit. Lately, even more than normal, you’re hypnotized by him, your eyes sometimes glazing over as you take in just how pretty his brown eyes are.
Man, do you have a thing for brown eyes.
This usually eggs him on, thinking his words must mean something. They don't, really. You don’t take in a single word of what he’s saying. You’re just admiring him, his pretty lips, the freckles decorating his skin…
See, your problem is that you can’t decide on which one you’d want more…not that there’s any part of you that remotely thinks you would have that luxury. You’re not possibly conceited enough to believe that you would have a choice. Really, if it came down to it, (emphasis on if), it would be which one would choose you.
And they have so much better to choose from.
So, you let yourself imagine it. There’s certainly no harm in the what if.
“Not impossible, just horny.” You laugh, winking at the way she chokes on her water.
-
Steve pushes the cart of returns around, tapping his hands rhythmically on the plastic. You are on rewind duty, using a rewinder to go through each returned tape quickly and effectively. It’s a weekday, so business has been slow. Weekdays give more leeway on the display tvs, topics of discussion, and finally, to fuck around.
“Hey, Robin isn’t working today, right?” Steve asks, looking back at you.
You’re invested in the movie playing, leaning against the counter. “Hmm?” The question registers. “Oh, no she’s off on Wednesdays, remember? Band rehearsal after school.”
“Right, right.” He nods, something clearly on his mind.
“Something going on in that pretty little head of yours, Harrington?” You ask, switching the tape out for a new one.
He looks over his shoulder, licking his lips. “Pretty, huh?”
You roll your eyes, completely missing the way his eyes trail down your body. Your disregard of any possibility for a mutual attraction really is your blind spot. “You know you’re pretty, Harrington. Don’t play dumb.”
He shakes his head, pushing the cart along towards the romance section. “If you say so, sweets.”
You lick your lips, tasting the cherry ChapStick that deepens the shade of your lips into a darker red. Something about him is different today.
On the computer is a sticky note asking if the back room filled with unlabelled tapes could be organized and categorized. With the lack of customers, list of chores completed, and plenty of time left in your shift, you end up being bored enough to follow through. It won’t be done in one shift, but at least you’ll get it started. It’s a damn tedious process.
Not even twenty minutes pass by, a pile of marked and labeled tapes already to your left when the door to the back room shuts. You suspect for only a second that Steve needed to grab something, until you feel a pair of hands on your hips and hot breath on your neck. You freeze, gulping as you stare dead ahead at the tapes standing in a row. Your throat dries up like a drain unplugged, every limb freezing in place like you’re glued to the spot.
“Steve?” You ask after a moment passes.
He hums, thumb swaying up and down your hip, gently brushing past the hem of your shirt onto your bare skin. The other hand curtains your hair from your shoulder, trailing kisses down the curve of your neck. As a reflex you relax into it, sighing as you lean into his warm, wet, touch. The sensation flutters throughout your limbs, turning every bone, every muscle, into gelatin.
Your head falls back against his shoulder as his teeth scrape across your skin decorated with goosebumps. Your relaxed disposition is short lived, freezing up when your mind catches up to what the hell is happening. “Wait—” you protest, head snapping up in a frenzy.
He holds your face, turning it towards him. Eyes are hooded, looking tired, but from his dilated eyes you can tell he’s anything but. “What?”
“We-we’re at work, Steve, someone can come in at any moment…”
He listens, partially, barely. His eyes flicker down to your lips, all shiny and tugging him in. “Is that your only protest?” Your heart races, feeling as if someone is pulling at the corners of your mouth as you hesitantly nod. “No one has come in for over an hour, and I locked the door and turned the sign around. We won’t be bothered.”
“Oh.” A gasp leaves your lips as he leans in for a kiss, mouth deliciously open against yours. He demands full control, his fingers spreading across your neck. Your body turns to face him, grabbing onto the collar of the polo shirt he wears under his green vest. You can barely keep up with him, giggling out of pure, absolute, giddiness.
His hand runs up your torso, shaking yet demanding. Your vest is pulled down your arms, his hand pulling you against him. He starts kissing down your neck, pushing you so his arm and your back collide with the shelf behind you. A startled gasp fills the small room, your feet shuffling as the mixed sensations create a pool in the bottom of your stomach.
“Look at you, so pretty, you feelin’ good?” You nod, a hand twisting under his shirt and grabbing at his bare torso. His voice is dripping in husk, gorgeous in a way you’ve only ever pictured.
“Uh huh,” you manage to choke out.
He doesn't falter at his multitasking, his expert tongue working against yours as his hands work the button of your jeans open and the zipper down. “Let’s see how soaked you are...” The joints where your jaw is attached to your skull feels as if they vanish as your jaw drops open and Steve places his hand on your thin, cotton panties.
“Shit, honey, you are soaked.” He mutters, a sly half smile on his face.
“Jesus,” you whimper as he gently teases you.
He wastes no time, pushing your pants down your ass, watching as he exposes you with a stupid level of intrigue. “Baby, you know how pretty your pussy is, just dripping wet, jus ‘for me?”
He slips a finger in, reaching the deepest depths, somewhere yours never fucking could. He’s so fucking good at it too, watching your face as his thumb rotates on your clit, the pleasure from it more than you knew was possible. “S-Stevie,” you whimper, fingers clutching onto his shirt. “Oh, my god.”
“Wanted to see you like this for weeks, honey.” He adds another finger, his face watching and listening for every reaction you feed him. He eats them up like he’s been starving for you.
This information simply didn’t process, because there is no possibility this is true. None. “R-really?” You ask, leg moving up to get better access to your pussy.
Steve smirks, relishing in how you tighten around his digits. “Of course, honey.” His voice is like velvet, tender and smooth. He starts to move them faster, pumping them quickly, watching the breaths from your mouth grow shallower, your head falling back onto a shelf. “You think I don’t notice you watching me?”
Steve loves the reactions you give him, watching how you melt into putty in his hands. “You did?” It’s so close, he’s only started and you’re already being hurtled towards the edge.
“The way your thighs tense up, your eyes watching me, those pretty lips parted…” he explains, you have to give him credit for being much more observant than you had pegged him for. “Wanted to put my thumb in your mouth so many times, darling.”
“Why didn’t you?” You ask him, tensing up as you get close to your climax.
He laughs. You’re almost offended by his nonchalance. Is…is he not turned on, too? “We were surrounded by people, sweets. I have some self control, yunno.”
The reminder that you’re in the back room with him at work is on your mind, a hint of cockiness floods your head. “Evidently, not-not that much.”
He works his fingers harder, you’re not sure if it’s a reward or punishment for your words, but the orgasm is abrupt, overflowing your senses completely as you shake against the shelf. “There she is,” he mutters, fingers working you through every sensation he so expertly provides you.
He smirks as he watches the afterglow take over your face, biting his lip when your head finally lifts up to face him. Just when you think he couldn’t possibly get any hotter, he proves you wrong. You don’t doubt he will prove you wrong again. And again.
…and again.
You barely take a second to recover, hands fumbling down for his jeans button. “Kay, now I need you.” You urge him, grinning at the way his cock pops out against the fabric of his shirt. A hushed swear falls from your lips when you take in his size, bigger than you even thought he was.
And you thought he was huge.
“Yeah?” He asks, a droopy smile on his face when your eyes peer up at him.
You nod, wrapping your hand around him, jerking him off. He’s thick, the head flushed red and a vein wrapping around it. When his face crumples, a crease appearing between his eyes, you’ve already proven yourself right in your theory. “Please, Stevie.” You urge him, pulling his cock towards your entrance.
Your ass sits on an empty shelf, where it’s been resting since he fucked his fingers into you. When he slaps his cock, already leaking with precum, against your clit, you whine impatiently, silently begging for him. “I like when you ask so nicely. Do it s’more, will ya?”
“C’mon, Stevie, I want your cock, so fucking bad. I’ve pictured this so many times, I fucking need it. Please.” You don’t mention anything about a third party usually being present, but that could come up, maybe…
Steve grins, marveling in the way your voice is so pathetic for him. It’s even better than he imagined, by more than a million miles. A part of him is greedy for you, greedy for even more proof of how badly you’ve wanted him, despite the clear evidence from the first time he clocked it.
At the time, he wondered if he was picturing it, the way your eyes were unfocused and shifted down at his arms. He was barely flexing them, when he did experimentally, he watched your breath literally hitch, eyes hurriedly switching back to his face.
It took a few more days of experimentation, but he finally confirmed it when the evidence was too congruent to think otherwise.
He’s even more greedy for you, having spent many nights thinking about you bent over, on your knees, on your back, riding him, you name it, he’s thought of it.
He can ask you to continually beg for him another time, right now he’s just desperate for you, so he ignores the call to ask you to beg even more and pushes the head in.
The gasp, your jaw dropping, the swears that fall from your lips and invade the quiet room, the way your pussy sucks him in, everything about your reaction is perfect to him. The feeling is likewise, watching in real time as his eyes darken for you, and for you alone.
He’s huge in a way you can’t even comprehend, frighteningly so.  Still, he starts thrusting, gently as he can muster, still stinging, regardless. He knows he should wait, he has to every time he’s with someone new, but god damn if your pussy wasn’t the best he’s ever felt in his life. His hips move wondrously, rolling them in a way that feels like magic.
You can’t help the yelps and the whines that fill the room, watching and combing your fingers through his famous locks. They’re so soft, despite the constant hairspray and hair products he uses. While the pain mostly overshadows the pleasure, the combination is beautifully laced together.
Boy, can he fuck better than you had imagined. While you have thought of some things while imagining him, nothing has ever even compared to all that he’s giving you.
The moans that pass through his mouth, the roll of his hips, the crumpled expression on his face…all things that your brain could never come up with. Sure, you thought he could talk dirty, imagined his long fingers instead of yours, maybe picturing the way you so desperately finger yourself; this wasn’t remotely close to what you imagined.
Hell, it wasn’t anywhere near what you had imagined.  
It’s so much better.
You whimper, stuttering on the S of his name, unable to finish it, too blissed to care.
“S-s, what, honey? What’s that you were saying?” He chuckles deeply when you tighten around him. “Oh, you like being talked down to, huh? Like being put in your place?”
You nod, pulling him for a needy kiss, losing any sense of concentration when his hand lands on your clit, rubbing it in the exact way you needed him to.
“I fucking knew you would, little whore getting fucked at work, taking his big cock like you were made to, fuck.” His thrusts get stronger, harder, faster, gasping wordlessly at how fucking good he is at it.
“Fuck, Stevie, you gonna breed me? Gonna cum in my pussy? Need it so fucking bad, please, please, pleasepleasepleaseplease.”
The smile that invades his face is cocky, watching you crumble under him. “Listen to your pretty voice beg for me, you really want me that bad, huh?” You nod, wondering how his hips hit harder. How was that possible? “Gonna breed you, honey, just keep being a good girl f’me, and I’ll fill you up, mmkay?”
You nod, watching the beads of sweat slowly coat his reddened face. One hand curls itself into the hair by the crown of your head, gripping tightly and watching the intense pleasure that takes over your face. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, no longer aware of any existence outside of this room, you’re here, only here, and will only be here.
“Shit, gonna fill you up, honey, need to feel you cum all over my cock, won’t you, please, sweets, need it—” while he thinks your begging is beautiful, his is just the thing to put you over the edge. The fluttering of your tight walls around him pulling the cum that fills you up beautifully.
His cock thrusts through the collective orgasm you feel together, the force of it pushing his load out of your pussy, you watch it leak past his length and down your thighs. It’s a sight that almost makes you cum again.
He smirks, catching his breath in time with you. He places kisses up your throat, taking in the way you tighten around him. Finally, you come back down to earth, the smell of sex in the room from your tryst overwhelming it. How much febreeze would it take to hide it? Your jeans are barely down to your knees, shirt ruffled, and hair a mess. Man, did you get caught up in him, his kiss, his scent, his cock.
A shy grin cascades across your face, watching as a piece of hair curls its way into his eye. “Hi, beautiful.” He greets, hand plastering itself onto your cheek.
“Hi.” You whisper, still pulsing around him.
“Did you enjoy it as much as I did?” He asks, biting his lip as his eyes look bored into yours.
“Probably more.” You admit, grinning cheekily. “You did all the work.”
He laughs in answer, placing a kiss on your cheek as he pulls out. The loss is stark, you suddenly feel so empty.
Oh, he did manage his entire length. Fuck.
“Was it everything you wanted?”
You flick an eyebrow up at him, tilting your head. “I don’t know, Harrington. You tell me.”
He laughs, winking at you. “Yeah, whatever.”
You wouldn’t exactly call yourself his girlfriend at this point because that certainly didn’t feel like an invitation for such. In fact, when Steve mentions his date coming up that weekend you don’t exactly feel heartbreak, just jealousy.
Whatever weird relationship you just started with him, coworkers with benefits or whatever, you are down for it. You're immediately wondering how often you’ll be in the back room with him, sharing cheeky looks across the room when he winks at you.
When he’s that good, it’s hard not to be.
-
Despite the urge to, you actually don’t tell Robin over the phone about your hook up with Steve. Something about the secrecy just makes it that much hotter. You lie, telling her the night was boring with customers appearing for their late returns.
The store is reopened, Steve grinning at you manically as he continues with his work. Well, if you can call putting the returns away “work”.
Your mom is at work for the night, taking a double at the hospital. She left twenty bucks on the counter for supper, leaving a note to order some take out. Well, pizza it is. You order the vegetarian deluxe, rolling your eyes at the wait time; forty-five minutes to an hour. Apparently, they are very busy tonight. Whatever.
You decide to kill time, running up to your room and jumping on your bed, kicking your panties off, keeping the sweatshirt you wear on. Your fingers happily dance themselves onto your clit, using some of the gift Steve left you as lubricant.
Sometimes, the person you imagine takes over for you, sometimes they simply put their cock in you, disguised in the form of a dildo. This time, they merely watch.
“That’s right, let’s see those fingers touch your pretty clit.” You imagine his voice, Eddie, picturing him watching you. “Little slut can’t even be satisfied with Harrington’s cock, huh?” He asks, and yeah, maybe you are a desperate slut ready for either man to take advantage of you. But who fucking cares, at this point? Your hand moves up to touch your tit, sneaking past the hem of your shirt, when your own imagination stops you. “No, you can touch yourself over your sweater, I’m letting you touch your pussy, isn’t that enough?”
Somehow it makes you moan desperately, massaging it pathetically. You shake your head, feeling a bit like a brat for the moment.
“No? Feeling greedy, huh?” He asks, you picture his dark brown eyes fixated on your pussy, fingers itching to touch you, just able to prevent himself from doing so.
You grin, nodding. “Please let me, I’ll be so good.” You take full advantage of no one being home.
“Hmm. Don’t think you will be…” He muses, and man, did you know what you liked. You desperately hoped he would know, too. “You already had Harrington’s cock today, and now you want someone else?”
“Yeah, she is quite a slut, ain’t she?” Oh, there he is.
The idea of the two of them here, watching you with dark eyes, both breaking at the seams at resisting the want to touch you, creates a new stir in you that feels nearly impossible.
“Look at how greedy she is, desperate for us, ain’t she?”  You picture Eddie agreeing, squatting right in front of your bed to get a closer look.
Suddenly you forget about the urge to beg them to let you touch your tit and move on to begging for them. Begging for one of them, at least, to finally take pity on you and just fuck you already. Why is this so enticing to you? Why does it draw you in so, like a moth to a flame?
Well, you suppose if the flame was two hot, gorgeous, capable men, you’d be drawn to it just as a moth is, despite how badly the heat burns you.
Your fingers grow faster, gasping more intensely as the scenario furthers in your mind. You’re about to push yourself over the edge, the whines from your throat loud and desperate, when the doorbell rings twice, one after the other. Fuck, the pizza’s here.
You completely forgot you even ordered food to begin with.
You rush to put a pair of sweats on, petting your hair down desperately as you pick up the 20 from the counter. The bell rings twice more, you yell “I’m coming, I’m coming!” at the impatient driver. Well, you would’ve been if they were just five minutes slower.
The door opens to face Eddie Munson, holding a pizza in his hand and wearing a dorky delivery driver visor. Huh, the last thing you ever expect him to wear is a bright yellow visor, the shade of American cheese, with a dripping piece of pizza on it, that’s for damn sure. Well, the last thing you expected was to see Eddie Munson, especially with what you were just doing, what you were just picturing. Well, this is awkward. For you it is, for him you guessed it was just another delivery.
You smile awkwardly, tossing him the 20 and trading for your pizza. He asks how much you want back as the order and the delivery fee only cost you 10 dollars in total. You insist he takes the ten-dollar tip, grinning when he blinks in disbelief.
As much as you want to stay and talk to him and get a better handle of his voice, you were so close, and you can feel it starting to drift away. You close the door with a frank thank you and slide the pizza on the counter, running up the stairs.
As the door slams in his face, Eddie’s eyebrows raise, finding the whole interaction peculiar. In fact, when you opened the door, he clocked the scent right away. With how wet you are, both your arousal and Steve’s cum dripping down your thighs, it flooded his nose. Eddie knows the smell of pussy and knows it well. You were in such a rush to get back to your own imagination, you didn’t notice the way his jeans started to tent at the crotch.
Eddie starts to shrug it off, accepting the tip and taking the hint that you wanted alone time, but a sound, enticing and wonderous, floats into his ears. He thought he was hallucinating, did…did he just hear his name?
He wanders past the gate to your backyard and looks up to an open window, not seeing you, but hearing the moans that leave your throat as you continue your mission. His jaw slacks open, listening to you beg for him, beg for his cock. God, now knowing he has such power over you is driving him insane.
His cock throbs in his jeans to the point of hurting, he grabs himself just for the tiniest bit of relief, slightly stroking himself to the sound of your voice. Eddie’s legs are restless, like he wants to go back to your front door and ask if you want his help. He nearly carries himself there, ready to devour you, his career as a delivery driver be damned.
He only makes two strides when the second thing that freezes him into place comes out of your mouth. The first was you openly begging for him, but the second one is hearing you add someone else’s name in the mix. Eddie mistakes it for the wrong name, but as you intertwine his with Steve’s, it becomes clear to him that he wasn’t the only one you were currently begging for.
Your voice gets higher, more urgent, the begging transitions from begging for them to fuck you, which, jesus, to letting you finish. Man, he loves the way your mind works. He slips his cock out, unable to resist relieving himself any further. His eyes flicker to your neighbors’ lights, he hopes no one would be nosey enough to peer into your backyard for the night.
Come to think of it, he’s actually not sure he would care all that much.
The symphony of strings of swears and whimpers that float down from your window only adds fuel to his fire. “Oh, baby, just letting anyone listen to you, if they really wanted to, huh?” Sometimes being vocal is his Achillies heel. He should shut up, especially perving like this, but it’s nearly impossible.
You beg his name, imagining him and Steve refusing again.
“Listen to you beg like a little slut, hmm?” He muses, regretting that there’s nothing for him to clutch on to.
“Eddie, m’ so close…”
“Not yet, doll.”  He chides, hoping you’ll play along.
A miracle happens, as if you know exactly what his intentions would be. “Stevie, please?”
“Hmm, don’t you dare, Harrington.” Eddie threatens, and now he really does want to join you.
“Please, I’ve been so good…”
Your insistence, your sweet voice begging for him, God, Eddie’s already so damn close himself. “Let’s hear it, baby.”
The stars align, because from the sounds of your whines that come from your window are just enough for Eddie to spill over his fist, spurts of his cum dripping onto the grass beneath him. From the sounds of it, your orgasm is something that makes your every muscle spasm, the kind that lingers for minutes after. While your mewls, and whines, and whimpers are practically perfect, Eddie really wishes he could get the visuals.
He sees a shadow move; he wonders if you just remembered you have food waiting. He’d better move from your driveway before you realize he’s still there.
On his way to drop off a pizza that is also waiting to be delivered, one he knows he will have to pay for himself after the wait, (worth it), an idea forms in his head that is just too good for him to pass up or call it like it is…insane.  
-
When you feel a repetitive tap on your forearm at lunch the following week, you believe Robin is trying to annoy you. You ignore her, focusing on the novel you’re reading while you shrug her off. At the clearing of someone’s throat, you finally look up.
Oh, shit.
Eddie stands in front of you, hands in his pockets as he nods to the seat right next to you. All you can do is nod, out of breath as he sits in the seat right next to you.
“I’ll uh, just get going.” Robin mutters, shooting you a smirk as she gathers her backpack and takes off.
You shoot daggers at her, anxiously twisting your hands under the table, gulping as your nerves flood your senses.
Eddie rests his jacket leather covered arms on the table, head turned towards you. “Enjoy your pizza?” He asks, a twinkle in his eyes you can’t quite place.
Your brows furrow, confused until it dawns on you. He was the one that delivered it. “Oh…it-it was good.” You smile, sighing nervously.
A lopsided smile takes over Eddie’s face, he watches as the wheels turn in your pretty noggin. Knowing what the confusion meant when they furrow until the realization hits you. It’s a breath of fresh air, really, knowing he didn’t need to worry about rejection, knowing how secretly desperate you are for him.
He nods, licking his lips. “Good, good.” The way you sit nervously, the subtle tensing of your thighs, you’re sweet, amusing, even. “You going to Harrington’s party this Saturday?”
You blink, taking in the sentence. “Huh?”
He chuckles, and the smile on his face is gorgeous. “Harrington. Know him?” You nod, eyes wide. “You going to his party?”
Steve literally invited you the day before, suggesting he might drag you into a closet or something. “Yeah, I am.”
“Wanna go with me?”
Yes. Yes, you do. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. “Sure.” You accept, leaning on your elbow, a shy smile on your face.
“Pick you up at 10?” Somehow, Eddie has the ability to make you feel breathless, and his skin hasn’t even grazed yours yet.
Hopelessly, desperately, you wait for Saturday. Over the week, Eddie has caught your eye across the cafeteria, shooting his cocky grin that continually melts you into a puddle.
That same cocky grin he gives you as he drives over to Steve’s. While Steve knows of your crush on him, he also was aware of how much you like Eddie. Honestly he’s just rooting for you, seeing the excited glint in your eye when you give him the news.
Every little part of you is wondering how it is possible that you might have the choice…when weeks ago you thought you had no possible chance with either of them. There’s a slight part of you wondering…wondering if you’d slipped into an alternate universe where the world is starting to work out in your favor. It feels plausible until you wondered why the hell you’d be going to work or doing homework in your perfect world.
Eddie’s hand rests on your shoulder as you enter, the music blaring from Steve’s living room. A crowd of sweaty teenagers jumping, grinding, dancing, filled to the brim with far too much alcohol. You’d barely said a word to him, stuck in your head as you accepted a red solo cup from him. He makes his own mix, a brown liquid you don’t recognize with some coke. Yours is a vodka-sprite mix, hoping the extra shot you pour will loosen you up a bit.
Or…a lot.
“Dance with me?” He asks, pointing to the living room as he takes a big swig.
You squint at him, already in the middle of taking a big gulp, wincing at the burn. “You dance?”
He shrugs, fingers tapping on the red plastic of his cup. “I do when pretty girls dance with me.”
You take another big gulp, already feeling the effects. What can I say, you are a lightweight. “Better go find one.”
Well, it seems the alcohol is doing its thing.
Eddie’s arm easily wraps around your waist, pulling you up against him. The look in his eye excites you, gulping as his hot breath is on your neck, enticing a shudder. “You little shit.” He mutters, a smug little grin on his face. “I was already asking a pretty girl for your information. I was giving you the privilege of asking, but now you have no choice.”
The cup nearly collides with your nose as he takes another swig, his eyes never leaving yours. His hand easily intertwines with yours as he tosses the cup over his shoulder, tugging you to the living room.
You follow him, hypnotized by his siren’s song. Eddie doesn’t have an inch of patience left in him, already antsy from the show you put on for him. He lets his hands wonder, holding you close to him and going everywhere, your hips, your thighs, your ass, even trailing under your tiny skirt. You don’t protest, inhaling his scent. The mix of body wash, cologne, and just him is mouthwatering.
He doesn’t ask, doesn’t need to from the way you melt in his arms when his lips finally land on yours. The reward of your moan vibrating into his mouth is just what he needs, the very reward he was looking for. You don’t have it in you to pretend you aren’t eager, your lips searching for his as soon as it registers. The kisses are urgent, fervent, and just the right amount of messy.
His knee makes its way between your legs, already mapping how easy it is to make you fall apart, even in the middle of a crowd. And do you ever fold in his arms even at the subtle touch of his hands on your skin, tongue on yours, the adrenaline in your veins… it’s enough to make you forget you’re in a crowd.
When his tongue lands on your throat, sending ripples of pure ecstasy down your spine. The moment he feels you start to grind on his thigh, he has you right where he wants you. His mouth dives into your ear, heated breaths sending a chill through you. “I’ll be right back.”
Confused, you catch his eye, faltering as his knee leaves where it’s stationed.
He winks, walking across the living room, feeling pretty smug at how he feels your eyes on the back of his head.
Now for his plan.
Steve invited a girl over for his party, deciding he’d do exactly what he had insisted he’d do with you. Instead, he’s mesmerized by how you and Eddie are grinding across the way from him. No matter how hard he tries, he couldn’t keep his eyes off the two of you, now wishing you were following through on said plans with him.
When Eddie’s lips met your neck, he feels entirely too restless, forcing himself not to place you in the middle of a sandwich he’d very much like to be a part of.
Now the girl is off with another dude having sought out a different sex buddy when Steve backed out, making out with some jock on his couch. Not that he cares, he’s barely noticed her. He’s far too busy being captivated by you and your date.
Speaking of your date, he attempts to look busy as soon as Eddie starts crossing the room, to where Steve assumed was the bathroom a few feet behind him. Boy, was he wrong. As Steve crowds into the wall, pretending to be staring off towards anywhere else, Eddie stops right next to him, observing Steve with a smirk.
Eddie started keeping track of Steve as soon as he got to the party, keeping mental tabs on him. It wasn’t hard, Steve’s eyes were glued the two of you, and it made Eddie’s plan ten times easier.
“Hi, Harrington.” He smirks, watching Steve’s shallow breathing and shifty eyes. Wasn’t very often he’s seen him lack confidence, and it’s almost too easy to get the two of you to dance how he wanted. “Enjoying the show?”
Steve falters, batting his pretty eyelashes as he processes it. “I-I’m not sure what you mean.”
Eddie rolls his eyes with his arms crossed. It certainly doesn’t help that Eddie had used every one of the tools in his belt. Shown off his arms, put some care into his hair, wore a shirt that was just a little too short for his torso…
As planned, it was working like a charm. “C’mon Steve, those pretty eyes of yours were burning a hole into the back of my head the entire time. Or…were you not watching the way she grinded on my leg?”
Steve’s eyes flicker to you, having now moved back into the kitchen to get another cup of alcohol. His eyes meet Eddie’s again, gulping, not able to find it in himself to deny any further. “Okay, so I was. It’s basically impossible not to.”
Eddie’s smile grows, his teeth just barely peeking through. “Isn’t it?” It really falls into Eddie’s favor that Steve was already against the wall, hand landing right next to his face. “Well, I gotta be honest, from the look on your face it almost looked like you wanted to join us.”
Oh god, is Steve hallucinating, or did Eddie just invite him to do the very thing he so desperately craved? “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Munson.”
Eddie rolls his eyes again, amused at the hesitance Steve displays. “I’m not. I’m inviting you to one.”
Steve’s breath hitches, Eddie affirming exactly what he was afraid of. “Think she’d be down for that?”
The genuine laughter that leaves Eddie’s lips is a bit startling, to say the least. “I can say, Steve, with 100% certainty, that she would be.”
“Well, shit, Eds.” Steve laughs, already hard from the mere thought of it. “Let’s go get our girl.”
-
A part of you starts to worry, tipsy as you stare into your drink while sitting next to who you thought was Steve’s date but is all over some football jock. Despite your date being Eddie, you were glad. Your jealousy can start simmering down. You catch Eddie’s jeans ripped at the knee, eyes raking up to his face, noting Steve trailing right behind him.
Eddie ignores your confused face, offering his hand for you to take. Yours lands in his, and it wraps around yours as he effortlessly tugs you up to him. “Come on, we’re going upstairs.” He waits for you to acknowledge Steve standing by you, eyebrow quirking up. “Oh, Steve’s joining us.”
You are not protesting. That's the last thing you'd be doing. If anything, it’s just sudden. All you can do is let out stuttered breaths, attempting to ask how, or why, before getting to the what.
Eddie pretends to falter, brow furrowing as he condescendingly tilts his head. “What, I thought this is what you wanted?”
Okay, how could he possibly know that? “Y-yes, yes, I do, but-but how--?”
“You should probably close your window next time you decide to order food and have a bit of fun, there, sweetheart.” Your eyes shoot open wide, immediately understanding why Eddie approached you when he did. Your window. He leans into Steve, laughter sitting under his voice. “Stevie, should’ve heard her, she was begging for us both, sweet thing had no idea I could hear.”
Steve’s mouth turns into a smirk, watching the many phases your sweet face goes through. “That true? You thinking of us both at the same time?”
By this point, your eyes haven’t even stopped switching between the two men as they leer over you. You wonder how many times this exact scenario has crossed your mind, giving you eyes as they proposition you to be the delicious middle of their sandwich. It’s everything you want, everything you crave.
Then why the fuck is it so damn terrifying?
“You got words, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, catching Steve’s eye, who has his hands on his hips, his eyes curtained by those glorious locks.
No words come to mind, except how fucking wet their gazes make you feel. You let your action speak for itself, turning on the spot to run up the stairs.
You’re halfway up when you hear the thumping of two sets of feet behind you vaguely over the loud music, giggles bubbling up your throat as you turn around the corner down the hall. Not panic, but pure excitement fills your chest as the sounds of footsteps invade the upstairs. A hand grabs yours, yanking you back to the door that Steve opens, his own room.
Sometimes it’s occupied by some random hook ups, he usually tries to lock it for a big party, but honestly if there were someone in his room, he would’ve kicked them out. He’s already hooked up in his mom and dad’s room, as barf inducing as it is, and he refuses to do so on this particular night.
Eddie is right behind you as you enter, hands already making their way under your shirt. He’s eager, his hand hooking under the hem and lifting it over your head and your arms. The cold air meets your skin, gifting it goosebumps. Your shirt hits the floor, you can hear it on Steve’s hardwood. The sound is minor in the grand scheme of things, currently focused on Steve’s lips on yours and Eddie’s hands making their way under the wire of your bra.
Steve’s hands grab at your shoulders, pulling you so you fall on top of him, Eddie giggling as he lands on the two of you. Eddie’s laughs weave with the kisses he scatters along your back, your neck, hands moving absentmindedly as he undoes the backing of your bra.
Under you, Steve’s hands delicately grab the straps of the bra and pull them off your arms. Your bra is flung across the room without a second thought, Steve palming your tits and playing with the nipples between his fingers, twisting and groping them as you mewl into his ear.
Eddie falls sideways onto the bed, the momentum knocking both you and Steve on your sides as well with him. You giggle, starting to grab at the edge of Steve’s shirt to lift over his head. Eddie flips your skirt up, his long fingers touching the fabric over your weeping pussy.
“Fuck, you’re soaked.” Eddie mumbles, sneaking under the waistband of your panties, touching you softly and moving his finger up and down. “Pretty baby must be turned on, hmm?”
Steve bends down to mouth at your nipples, his silk tongue hot and magical, gently nipping with his teeth in a way that makes your blood sing.
The marvelous mixture of sensation has your head flung back on Eddie’s shoulder, writhing in their holds as they work together. One of Eddie’s fingers slips in, long and deep within you. A loud gasp fills the room as Eddie’s thumb rotates your clit slowly and watches you fall apart.
His finger hooks, working perfectly against your g-spot. “F-fuck!”
Steve licks up the mound of your breast, dirtily licking all the way to your neck, nibbling bruises across your neck. “Gonna cum so quickly, sweets?” Steve asks, teasing you.
“Feels-feels so good!” You whimper, starting to grind helplessly on Eddie’s finger.
Steve’s eyes switch over to Eddie’s, who is already watching him. He grins, eyes switching from the metal-head’s eyes to his lips before licking his own. Both men are pressed against you as they lean in, their lips connecting as you lay in a true sandwich. Wet sounds of their kisses are loud in the room, and from their body language it gets heated fast as Eddie moans behind you, his fingers not resting for a second.
They’re fast and relentless, a heat in your pussy too hot, too much as you’re pushed over the edge like being pushed over a cliff. It hits you hard as you restlessly wither in-between them. Steve’s mouth moves from Eddie’s straight to yours, muffling the moans that leave your mouth.
The loss is sudden as Eddie removes his fingers to pull your skirt down your ass. “You want me to tell Stevie what I heard, or you wanna tell him?”
Your lips freeze against Steve’s, eyes opening, gulping as you back away from him.
“Ooh, I wanna know, what’d you hear, Eds?” Steve asks, getting the hint when Eddie helps move you on to your back.
“Well, from what I could tell she was picturing us watching her play with herself, begging for us to touch her, begging for our cocks, begging to cum…”
Shit, he did hear everything.
“Shit, when was this, honey?”
You bite on your pointer finger nervously as Eddie tugs on your thighs, giggles spilling from your mouth. “Wednesday.”
Steve shakes his head, unbuttoning his jeans as he grins at you, Eddie settling himself between your legs. “Oh, you greedy girl.”
Eddie finishes pulling your skirt down your legs, tossing it over his shoulder as he asks, “Why?”
“Oh, she didn’t tell you?” Steve asks, cockily grinning at Eddie as he pulls down his boxers, his cock springing free. “Yeah, she took my cock in the back of Family Video that day, didn’t ya, darlin’?”
Eddie quirks his eyebrow, staring up at you from in-between your legs, grinning intensely. “Oh, you are greedy aren’t ya? Maybe such a greedy girl doesn’t get her wildest fantasies coming true, hmm?”
He’s bluffing, but in your post-orgasm haze you can’t tell at all, you're just desperate for them. You protest it loudly, humming several no’s in a row.
“I dunno, maybe you can watch for tonight and we’ll let you join in another time, hmm?” Eddie taunts you, grabbing Steve’s cock and stroking it, Steve’s moan from final, sweet, relief filling the room.
You’re protesting more, resting on your forearms as you’re hypnotized by the way Eddie’s eyes are locked onto Steve’s. Okay, watching them isn’t all that terrible, but you’re already naked.
Eddie leans in, eyes still trained on Steve as he wraps his mouth around the head of Steve’s cock. You’re hypnotized by it, their constant eye contact creating an energy that is palpable. Eddie’s head tilts back, his tongue that he likes to show off so much at school lingering on Steve’s mushroom tip, reveling in the pearl of precum.
He kisses it, twisting his head to you. “Enjoying the show, sweetheart?”
You nod, grinning manically. “Very much.”
“Maybe we can take pity on her, hey, Eds?” Steve asks, also looking at you.
“Yeah, she can watch another time.” Eddie mumbles, pulling away from Steve to lean in back between your legs. “For now, I need to bury my nose in this sweet little cunt.”
That’s the only warning you get before Eddie’s long tongue slides itself against your wet folds, a hot, wet stripe sending shivers up your spine. You can’t help the whine that leaves your throat, desperate and all too happy to accept it.
Steve saunters over to your mouth, stroking himself as he observes your face. “Think you can be a good girl and take this cock down your throat?” You nod, reaching for him pathetically. You guide his cock to your mouth, the large head pushing into your mouth. His length fills your mouth, pushing right to the back of your throat. “Oh, that’s a good girl.”
A hum leaves your mouth around him, somehow dividing your attention between Steve’s cock in your mouth and Eddie’s tongue on your pussy.
Speaking of Eddie, his tongue has been slowly working, barely putting an ounce of pressure, focused on gathering up any arousal you feed him. His fingers are harsh against your thighs, the friction nearly burning as he grips you tightly. “Fuck, you taste…” he pauses, gasping and greedy, “so sweet.”
Your mouth is busy, too busy to tell Eddie how much he just needs to touch you harder, already. Your hips do it for you, grinding up as a silent question. Simultaneously, your hands move to Steve’s base, playing with his balls. Your mouth makes a wet plop, suddenly in the mood to have them up against your face. Your greedy tongue pokes out to lick at the patched hair that covers them, gasping at the sweaty musk they radiate.
Steve buckles, swearing loudly as his hand lands roughly next to your face. “Oh, my gooood, baby.”
As a reaction, Eddie digs in further, his tongue pushing into you, deliciously long and vibrating into you as he hums. The stench of sweat and your dribble fills your nose, your face slobbered and wet. Eddie places his thumb on your clit, rubbing in small circles as the more you give him, the more he takes.
He knows the smell of pussy, and your smell has driven him completely insane, like a pheromone that overwhelms any logic he once held and replaces it with you.
You gasp, taking Steve’s cock back in your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat. Steve’s hand curls into your hair, his thumb swaying against your cheek. You can barely focus on it, the overstimulation making that oh-so-funny feeling take over once more, swelling in your stomach.
“You gonna cum again, honey?” Steve asks, his hips moving slowly, yet picking up at an unprecedented rate. You nod around him, his cock hitting and forming a beautiful swell in your cheek, moaning around him. “Gonna fill this pretty little mouth, then we’ll pay attention to Eds over there, hmm? Bet he needs some help, hmm?”
“Might cum from her taste alone, honestly,” Eddie mumbles, working his tongue even faster, even more.
That single sentence does it for you, mouth tightening around Steve as you spill onto Eddie’s tongue, legs tightening around his ears. Steve feels as you moan around him, every part of you tensing, your mouth specifically tightening and pulling sticky ropes that jump down your throat.
It becomes too much, overflowing your mouth and drooling down your chin. Eddie kisses your thigh, lapping up the arousal that spilled to your thighs. Steve pulls out, watching with hooded and hazy eyes as your mouth stays open, tongue poking out covered in him, smiling as when his eyes drift to your throat gulping as he flows down your throat.
“Did I hear you say it was my turn?” Eddie asks, head poking out from between your legs. “Does that mean I get to feel this tight little pussy wrapped around my cock?”
Steve chuckles, his hand still wrapped in your hair. “If I’ve already had a turn, guess it only seems fair.” His thumb swipes across your chin, gathering the excess cum that gathered.
Out of nowhere Eddie pounces, grabbing Steve’s wrist and lapping the sticky substance with his tongue, making a show of it. Well, Eddie is nothing if not a performer.
Steve seems to think his turn is over, turning to the mess of clothes on the floor. “Stevie,” you whine, sitting up. Your legs feel like jelly, grabbing at the shirt on Eddie right next to you. How is Eddie still fully dressed? “Do you have lube?”
“You don’t need lube, sweets, you're soaked.”
You giggle, shaking your head. “Not what I meant, Ed.” You look back to Steve. “Hey, stop getting dressed! You got lube, right?”
“Uh…yes.” Steve startles, hands on his hips with his hips, eyebrows furrowed.
How have they not picked up on it yet? “Seriously?” You ask, switching between their confused glances. “Remember how Eddie said you’d make every fantasy come true?” They nod, you move onto your knees, undoing Eddie’s belt, and button quickly. “Well, when I pictured this, I pictured every hole being filled.”
Usually, a sentence like this would make you shy, embarrassingly so. However, the collective stare the two men give you is mind numbingly arousing.
“Shit,” Eddie mutters, sharing a bewildered look with Steve. “Well, go get the damn lube, Steve!”
Steve chuckles, moseying to the bedside table and grabbing a small bottle.
Your hands, frozen on Eddie’s half undone jeans, finally start moving again, pulling down his jeans and underpants. His cock springs out, the head an angry red. You lean forward, extending your legs backward as you lean forward to accept Eddie in the back of your throat.
Steve comes from behind him, lifting the loose black shirt he wears over his head, sprinkling kisses along Eddie’s skin.
Eddie groans, lifting his head up. “Fuck, ok, get up, need to feel that pussy right now.”
You smirk, getting off Eddie with a pop, standing up on weak legs. Eddie pulls you right against him, wrapping your lips in a sweet kiss. His tongue wastes no time to reach out to touch yours, connecting wonderfully. Eddie turns the two of you around, kicking off his jeans and stumbling over them. He falls backward onto the bed, you falling onto him and giggling like a madman.
A hand wraps around your cheeks, squishing them comically and pulling your face upward. “Kiss me, honey.”
You grin, locking lips with Steve as your body hitches up toward him. A pair of hands plant you back down, bare pussy connecting with Eddie’s gorgeous cock. The sensation makes you whine, thighs tensing around Eddies. Your hips grind helplessly, hoping it pushes him in. “Patience, sweets.”
You whine impatiently, petulantly groaning against Steve’s lips. You part from him, staring down at Eddie. “Stop teasing me, and—” your sentence cuts short, Eddie grinning in satisfaction as he shuts you up. A hushed swear leaves your throat, elongated and stuttered on the sh in shit.
Your impatience is the size of a teaspoon, hips rutting down to take more of him quicker, even though he’s at a size where you know you should take your time. “Take your time,” Eddie tuts, wrapping his hand in your hair.
“I can’t.” You whine, trying to pull him in more.
Impossibly, you manage to take in Eddie’s full length faster than you know you should. It’s still not fast enough.
A second pair of hands land on your ass, grabbing at the apples of your cheeks with harsh nails digging into the soft skin. Eddie’s hands are on your hips, fingertips under the edge of Steve’s. A cold, thick liquid lands where it needs to, a finger pushes it in, a mighty pressure added to the mix.
You whine, bucking into them and grinding on Eddie’s cock simultaneously. A mix of sounds ring out, Eddie moaning, Steve chuckling, you breathlessly gasping. “Fuck.”
Steve adds another finger, twisting and playing, watching how both your holes spasm together, how Eddie’s cock starts to move for you when your hips are jerking too much to really do anything.
Eddie gasps into your ear, groaning and border-line whimpering. “F-fuck, feel this tight fucking pussy…Jesus, Harrington, you planned on keeping this to yourself?”
Steve doesn’t answer right away, inserting a third finger and grinning at your high-pitched reaction. “With how good it feels, can you fucking blame me?”
“How many times you pictured fucking me, sweets? Good as you thought it’d be?” Eddie asks, voice guttural.
“S-s-s-so much better,” you stutter, whining in the crook of his neck.
Over your shoulder, Steve winks at Eddie, and it gives Eddie the warning to pause his movements to allow Steve to enter. The pressure of the head against the hole is so good. “Fuck,” you whimper, gasping desperately.
If there’s anything you’re willing to admit, it’s that you never knew you could feel this good, this full, it’s a shame it took this long, really. The stupid part is, Steve isn’t even halfway in. Your jaw drops, hands tensing and curling and toes twitching, so many little muscles moving instantaneously.
“You okay, sweets?” Eddie asks, whispering sweetly as your gasping grows in both depth and volume. You frantically nod, the sweat fierce and intense.
“More.” You beg, the only word that can possibly make sense to you.
However small, however faint, Steve heard the plea and pushed in more. Your jaw drops, leaning onto Eddie’s bare chest with your elbows and staring at Eddie’s darkened, brown eyes. He’s pretty, too pretty.
You adjust, and yeah, lube definitely needs to be used in this bullshit, it makes it feel so much better. “More,” you whimper, twisting your body to look back at Steve to see his reaction as he pushes in one last time.
The awkward twist of the body is worth it to see how his jaw drops and eyes close, followed by his head falling back in bliss. “Fuck, both your tight little holes are so good, honey.”
“What a good girl you are, love, god you take cock so well,” Eddie compliments you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.
Steve’s strong hand sways across your ass, caressing it fiercely. “Like she was made to, isn’t it,” he adds, hunching over your build to kiss the bare skin.
Your toes are curled, your whole-body tense, eyes closed as you lie in the sandwich that contains the three of you. Good. God, it’s good. The goodness that it is starts to trail down your cheeks, trailing off your chin. “Good,” you whimper, trying to look at both of them at once. “G-good. Move. Move,” you act restlessly, hands moving without a destination in mind, hips bucking anxiously with no such success.
They work in tandem, their hips synchronously moving together, both rolling their hips perfectly. Steve twists his arm around your torso, extending as he wraps his hand around your neck, fingers beautifully spread, choking the little air you have out of your lungs. Eddie stares up at your face in awe, holding your hips fiercely while his hips buck up.
Steve’s hand awkwardly spiders up your jaw, letting go of your neck to hook a thumb in your mouth and rest his fingers on your chin.
As a reflex, you start to suck on it. “What a pretty slut we have, hey, Stevie?” Eddie asks, admiring your pretty mouth wrapped around Steve’s thumb.
“Thirsting over her little holes being filled, taking it so well, fucking right, she is.” Steve agrees. He yanks his thumb out, using the same hand to lightly slap your ass.
You moan, loud and stuttered, and guttural at the sting of pain that just adds more to the pleasure. “Fuck!” Steve chuckles doing it again, harsher this time.
Eddie’s arms wrap around you, pulling your tits against his chest. He pulls you in for a kiss, dirty, and filled with spit. Steve slaps another time, harder than the others, you yell into Eddie’s mouth as a direct response. Your lips stutter off Eddie, whining desperately at the marvel.
“Whore.” You whine out, desperate.
“Oh, she wants to be called a whore, does she? Well she certainly earned it, didn’t she?” Eddie mocks, voice only a little bit strained. Eddie surges forward, slapping your ass harshly, igniting a yelp from you from the unexpected sting. “Sorry, Stevie, I wanted in on the fun.”
Steve grunts out a moan, “Of course, after all, our whore loves it, doesn’t she?”
They start to move faster, Eddie’s hips more jagged, Steve’s hips in a rolling pattern, both cocks fucking you in a way that is simply too good to be true.
That seemed to be the common theme for the night, good. While fantastic, amazing, wonderful, beautiful, are much better synonyms, good is the only word simple enough to reach your brain. Maybe the stream of tears trailing down your face are stealing the strong words from your vocabulary, maybe it’s the cocky look that sits on both their faces. Maybe it’s the wandering hands.
“Gonna cum.”
“Oh, make a mess for us, sweetheart.” Eddie commands, planting wet lips all along your jaw, neck, shoulder, anywhere he can reach.
Steve slips his hand around your thigh, placing two fingers on your clit. “Wanna feel this tight little hole as you cum, yeah? Gonna see our baby make another fucking mess.”
The pleasure is overwhelming, consuming every nerve you have. Gasps leave your throat, high pitched and too much. “Cum all over me, baby.”
A feeling you’ve never had, a high you’ve never reached, comes into play, forcing you to push something you didn’t know you could. “Oh, I’m gonna—”
A gush overwhelms the heavy breaths that are coming from both Eddie and Steve. Your vision is flooded with stars, writhing in their collective hold.
It takes you a minute to recover from it, both men’s hips slowly bucking in, slowly hips rolling and swaying. You still look like you need time when you choke out, “Fuck me! Fill me up, please, please, please?”
“Of course, whatever the pretty girl wants.” Steve mutters, hands gripping onto your hips as he fucks into you, matching the relentless pace Eddie was already at.
“Jus’ like that, jus’ like that~”
“Oh fuck, keep begging like that, honey.” Steve encourages you, grabbing harshly against your scalp.
“You better be as close as I am, Harrington, or this will be embarrassing.” Eddie warns, only half joking with how desperate his moans sounded.
“Fill her up with me?”
“Thought you’d never ask,” Eddie answers, grinning manically. “J-j-jesus christ!”
The symphony of moans as they fill you up in both holes is music to your ears, something you never thought you’d hear. You do your best to memorize every note, every consonant, every vowel, to commit it to memory.
The world freezes as three sets of lungs attempt to catch their breath. Hands gracing over any skin they can touch for a gentle caress. Caresses lead into kisses on skin, wet and comforting in the best way.
You can’t tell how much time passes as the three of you fall over into a three way spoon, cocks still keeping you good and full.
“Did so good, honey.” Steve praises, petting your hair and skin.
“Good girl, such a good girl for us.” Eddie adds, unable to help his hand fluttering over to Steve’s hair, as well.
Your gasps turn from whimpers to hums, accepting every whisper of appraisal with an overly satisfied grin sitting on your face. They pull themselves out eventually, you moan at the loss as your spaghetti limbs sprawl on the bed. “Gonna grab you some water, honey,” Steve whispers, planting a kiss in your hair.
“You need a bath, sweetheart? I know for a fact it fits the three of us down the hall.” Eddie asks right after him, yanking a pair of his jeans on.
You nod, head feeling heavy on your neck.
Eddie scoops you up in his arms, carrying you down the hall. As the tub fills with hot, soapy water, Steve comes back up the steps with a cold glass of water to the bathroom. “Drink up.”
In Steve’s corner tub, you sit on Eddie’s lap, arms wrapped around him absentmindedly as Steve climbs in across the two of you. They spend their time washing your body, the hot water, and bubbles soothing and gentle as ever. It feels so good, so nice, it hurts to think it will end soon.
Your hormones must’ve been wild, because the tears fall down your face as you start to think about how badly you don’t want this to end. They’re worried, asking what’s wrong as they worriedly reach one another’s eyes. “’M selfish.”
“Why you selfish, sweets?” Eddie asks, tilting your chin up to him.
“Cause…cause I don’t want this to end…having both of you...it’s too good.”
Eddie and Steve share a glance, the both of them knew from the start it wasn’t just a one-time thing. “Who said this was going to end?” Attempting to reach your eyes with his.
“What?” You ask, a beautiful flicker of hope in you.
Eddie’s arms tighten around you, hand reaching in to kiss your cheek. “It’s nowhere near over, baby.”
“You’re too good for us to let you go, honey.”
“Really?” You ask, now a tad skeptical. “You’re going to let me be selfish enough to have both of you?”
“Please.” Steve chuckles, eyebrow furrowing at the crash down the stairs. “If anything, we’re the selfish ones, honey.”
Selfish.
On a regular day, it’s hard not to feel completely selfish. But when there’s two enticing and captivating voices telling you that’s not possible, you forget the word even exists.
-
Thank you so much for reading! I love to read comments and replies and tags and as always reblogging is the best way to support fic writers on tumblr
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kingconia · 10 months
Text
HOW TWISTED WONDERLAND'S HOUSEWARDENS ACT WHEN YOU ARE THEIR FAVOURITE CELEBRITY
— ; gender-neutral ; might as well do the second and the third part with vices and first years if you want ;
Riddle Rosehearts. ❤️
— You are his favourite fashion designer. It might sound ridiculous on some extent, but he fell in love with your collections of clothes in his early childhood;
— Not only you made an exquisite pieces on your own, but also, as a former student of NRC—most likely, from Pomefiore—you often create collections inspired by each of houses;
— Riddle's mother strongly shares his strange obsession over you, so she bought him a lot of your clothes;
— When he becomes a student, he indulges himself by ordering a special lining of clothes that will be made only for him.
”I see,” you nod, gripping a pencil harder as you frantically draw something on the paper. ”That wouldn't be a problem at all. In fact, I actually enjoy your ideas.”
”Really?” Riddle blushes traitorously, almost knocking the tea cup of the table. Gladly, you don't notice due to being too involved in sketching. ”I, I mean, it is pleasant to know.”
Just as rumours told, you were a very interesting, though, extravagant creature. Not in the rude way. But it seemed like an outside world hardly existed for you. All your attention was centred on your works.
”Give me two weeks, and I will finish everything,” you finally look at him, eyes sprinkling with a pure inspiration. ”Will it be fine for you, mister Rosehearts?”
”Of course,” he offers you a nervous smile. ”Take all the time in the world, please”
”Good,” you hum, standing up from your chair. ”It is pleasant to work with you.”
He nods, being completely at loss of his words. You are his idol, his legend... He doesn't know how to talk with you.
”Oh, and... Thank you for this short opportunity to visit the walls of my old school once again. It is interesting experience,” you wink at him, before disappearing in the depth of his garden.
Riddle gasps.
That is so much better than his dreams!
Leona Kingscholar. 💛
— Might be a controversial opinion, but you are his favourite political figure in the Afterglow Savannah;
— Perhaps, it is because you are not dazzled by his brother, always keeping your coolheaded and calculated attitude. Or maybe it is because you actually tried to help him to get involved in the country's council. Nevertheless, he strangely adores you;
— As a kid he dreamt a lot of becoming a king, and making you his consort. But, of course, his dreams were useless and quite embarrassing;
— Yet, even after all these years, are the only person, who makes him stutter. Ruggie honestly loves it;
”It is pleasure you meet you again, prince Leona.”
As soon as Leona makes an eye contact with you, he gets absolutely lost. It takes almost a minute from him, to bow his head before you respectfully, and to answer.
”...Farena never mentioned you coming,” he tries to sound cool as usual, but his tail is swaying nervously, betraying him. ”But, of course, you are very welcomed here.”
You nod, but stay very oblivious to his excitement. You never actually notice his adore towards you, always too focused on your work, rather than paying attention on people around.
”I had a meeting with this head of the school of yours,” you frown a little at these words, and he assumes you didn't really like Crowley. ”And his Majesty decided to bring Cheka along. Since he insisted, I couldn't deny the wish of little prince.”
”Yeah... Thank you very much for taking care of this little cub.” He mutters, tugging his own braids nervously. ”May I ask what could possibly be required from Crowley?”
Your ears perk up a little; a good sign of you being interested in the topic. Leona instantly feels smug that he was able to raise a right topic to drag you in conversation.
”If prince Leona doesn't mind, we could discuss it while walking around your school,” you suggest, now with your tail swaying enthusiastically. ”I also think, you will be interested in my proposition."
As if he isn't interested in everything you do...
”I wouldn't dream of anything better,” he answers honestly. ”Ruggie will take care of Cheka then.”
Ruggie, whose present was forgotten easily, rolls his eyes. As two of you leave, speaking in the hushed tones, he couldn't help but cuss at Leona. What an annoying brat he is.
Azul Ashengrotto. 🩵
— Quite predicable. You are his favourite lawyer in the whole world, much to his stepfather's displeasure;
— He is actually the one, who told stories about you—since you are working in the same area—but he couldn't imagine that his son will be so invested in your figure;
— Azul has a whole wall with cutouts from news about your wins in the court. He stares at it every morning, for—as he says—a manifestation a luck and success;
— He is buzzing with excitement, when Crowley invites you on the orientation day to inspire his students.
You let out a tired groan.
It is not the first time you are invited on lections for kids, but it was definitely the hardest one. Mostly, because there was this very enthusiastic boy, who asked you a million questions about everything. Your work, your ideals, your previous cases.
And while you could feel a great potential in him, you also was drained. That is why when you hear his voice again, you are thinking about running away.
”Excuse me, Y/n Y/s? I... I apologise for the interruping your rest time, but I simply wanted to say how impressive you are, and—”
You raise your hand, gesturing him to stop. He does so, a little bit ashamed.
”What is your name?” You ask him instead.
”I... My name is Azul Ashengrotto,” he pauses, glancing at the floor, probably, assuming you will scold him.
”Oh,” you blink in late realisation. ”I know your father. He is the lawyer, too, isn't he?”
He nods, and you finally realise where he got this persistence from.
”Well, Azul...” You shuffle in your pocket, finding one of many visit cards you carry with you, handing it to him. ”You are truly quite smart kid. And if you will still be sure in becoming a lawyer later, after your school ends, you can always contact me. I think, I could become your mentor.”
He stares at your visit cards so shocked, that you wonder if he is okay. Nevertheless, as he is speechless, you are quickly attempting to leave the corridor, before he starts asking more.
”T... Thank you very much! I will.” You hear him saying, when you are already at doors.
It is a shame you miss his screeching sounds of happiness as you left, though. People will kill to see Azul Ashengrotto acting like this.
Kalim Al-Asim. 🧡
— Another predictable answer. You are his favourite dancer;
— You dance in some different styles at the same time, and he honestly adores the way you switch so easily between them;
— ...He is crying from the pure excitement, once you try east style of dances, and Jamil listens him sobbing for an hour, while he spams your Magicam with millions of complements;
— Of course, Kalim shoves a sack of money in Crowley's face, so he could invite you on some ball in the school to perform, lmao.
”I am honestly flattered,” you admit shyly, while Kalim kisses your hands adoringly. ”And surprised! We, dancers, rarely appreciated as much as actors or singers... But, uh, thank you very much!”
Kalim jumps on his feet, smiling even wider with each word. Not only you danced gracefully, but also spoke this way! He is so amazed by you!
”No, no, thank you! You can't explain how much joy you bring in my life!” He practically screams, making others to glance in your direction suspiciously. ”I actually wanted to show my gratitude! So, maybe you want to have dinner with me and Jamil! Jamil's cooking is just amazing! You will love it!”
You raise your brows in surprise, but laugh quietly. This boy is very, very funny.
”Oh, that sounds nice, but... I have a special diet, so I assume I cannot...”
Before your finish your sentence, a lean and dark figure of the boy around Kalim's age appears behind you. With a slight nudge to your shoulders, he whispers, almost pleadingly.
”Please, agree to this offer. He is literally will cry for hours if you don't.”
Ah, that is supposedly Jamil...
You return your gaze on Kalim, who is watching you with big, watery eyes. You really can't say no...
”I assume... If only for an hour or, so...”
"Yay!”
Idia Shroud. 💙
— You are his favourite cosplayer, because of course you are;
— A love from the first sight, some can call it. But he is obsessed with each character you do! You nail it!
— He is not social enough to actually write comments on your photos, or even appear on the same Cons as you, so instead, he keeps his love anonymous;
— And by that I mean sending you a lot of donations, and buying all your Wishlist for new cosplays, lmao.
You stare at the big amount of money that came to your account this morning. The sender stays the same throughout this year; an anonymous fan named as a Hounddog666. No matter how concerning it is, you are actually flattered. Someone really loves you this much!
So, as usual, you message to him to thank for it.
His account—the only one you has—is private and closed, no photos, no names, no followers. You assume it is fake.
You:
Hello, hello! :) I just received your new gift, and I wanted to say how much I am grateful for your support. I wish I could do something for you as well, though.
Answers comes immediately.
Hounddog666:
Greetings. Please, continue to make all of us happy with your art. It means a lot for me. (⁠っ⁠.⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠っ
You smiled, shaking your head slightly. How sweet.
You:
Thanks, really. Maybe we should meet sometime, if you are such a fan of mine, haha.
Perhaps, it is slightly stupid and naive decision. This person could be a possible stalker or maniac, but... Well, you couldn't help but be curious of how exactly looks a person that adores you like this.
Hounddog666:
Perhaps.
You hum as he vanishes from online.
At the meantime, Idia Shroud falls from his chair after recieving your message, making other students in the History of Magic class glare at him with disapproval. But what would they know? He is just became closer to his idol!
Vil Schoenheit. 💜
— Surprisingly... You are his favourite writer;
— The connection between actors and writers is always a strong one. Writers and books are a constant tools for actors that help them understand characters and their inner thoughts;
— Vil isn't an expectation! He loves your books for many years, and his only dream was to play some of your characters;
— That is why he immediately suggested his candidature on the main lead in the film adaptation of your book that was announced recently.
Vil huffs, staring at his reflection absent-mindedly. A closed scenario in front of him ache his eyes, making his chest to tighten nervously.
This character, whose role he got, is his favourite actually. As a teenager, he found this boy with a complicated writing, a very relatable one. And he thought, it would be easy to play him as they share the same issues and pain. Bur instead, he finds himself... Feeling worse as he does so.
Each conversation with your about this character makes him feel nauseous. It is as if he is playing himself! And for some reason that he can't understand, it is not pleasant at all!
”Here you are,” he hears your warm voice, and before he realises you are close, you already put a cup of green tea in front of him. ”Are you okay, Vil?”
He nods thankfully, accepting the drink.
He should be happy now. He met his favourite person in the world, he has a possibility to speak with you so casually. Then why, he feels so shattered?
”I am,” Vil answers. ”It is just... A hard role.”
You nod, and he catch the glimpse of understanding in your eyes.
”Trust me, I know. Writing him wasn't easy, too. Do you know why?” He shakes his head. "Because I put a lot of myself in him. And it felt... Awful. As if I was peeling my own skin from myself, layer by layer, until I was left naked in front of thousands... No, millions people. It is never easy to be sincere, I am afraid.”
Vil blinkes.
This! This is why he loves your books. It is the way how beautiful you yield your thoughts, putting them in gentle, yet piercing, words. It is about you understanding him, despite never knowing before.
He finds himself smiling widely.
”This makes me even more glad that I am playing him,” he says, more collected than before.
You laugh, patting his shoulder slightly.
”I feel the same way about you playing him, Vil. Believe me or not, you look and act exactly as I pictured him to be.”
He gasps happily.
You are satisfied with him. That's absolutely beautiful!
”I will try not to disappoint, then.”
Malleus Draconia. 💚
— You are his favourite artist whose works were introduced him by Lilia;
— He fell in love with your drawings first, but as soon as he realised that you not only draw, but also make sculptures, he fell in love even more;
— Buys and adores everything you do, but especially likes it, when you give interviews, explaining all little details and historical context behind your works. You are smart. He likes it about others;
— No surprise he commissions a gargoyle statue from you, eventually.
”You speak so beautiful, young prince,” you murmur, astonished by the fae in front of you. ”I... I can't explain how charmingly inspiring your stories are!”
Malleus feels unexplainable amount of joy, when he sees you pacing from one side room to another, inspired by his words. His stories.
No one ever shared his interest in gargoyles, and this kind of reaction feels... Strangely rewarding.
”It is only small part of what I have to say about gargoyles,” he assures you quietly. ”But I am glad that you find it as curious as I do.”
”Curious?” You echo his words, stopping in front of him. ”That is not curious, young prince, that is ethereal. Ephemeral. It feels like chasing a dream.”
He smiles at your excitement, baring his fangs out. He feels the same way about it. For once, Malleus's assumptions were right; you are exactly who he searched for all these years.
”Young prince,” you take his hands in yours, making his breath hitch, ”please, if you enjoy my result on your commission later, I am begging you to work with me on my next project about gargoyles. I feel like it will be my magnus opium. I—”
You continue to chatter actively, voice becoming higher with each sentence, but Malleus only can stare at you and at your linked arms. The tip of his ears are reddening. Is it even real?
Not only he will have new works from you, but also... He will be able to spend time with you?
Does you expect him to refuse?
”It will be a pleasure of mine,” he tells you, with a genuine adore in his eyes.
”My prince,” you squeak,” I already love you. Thank you, thank you!”
And at this point, others can't say for sure, who is whose fan here...
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tteokdoroki · 1 year
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having many thoughts about bakugou comforting you on your period.
self-indulgent n mentions of pregnancy, fem!reader.
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“how many times do i have to tell you, quit tryna tough things out.”
bakugou’s lips twitch up into a snarl as he speaks. teeth bared, pink gums peaking out and nose upturned. but his voice is gentle, washes over your frenzied mind like waves on a soft sand shoreline. he’s chiding you, ever so worrisome, and you can tell by the crease that forms between his dark, thick eyebrows along with the concern that swims in the red of his eyes.
“don’t frown like that, you’ll get wrinkles,” you say, a childish air about your voice as you lift your chin, peaking your head out from the masses of blankets you’ve swaddled yourself in. “dad.”
bakugou rolls his eyes, peeling back a layer of your comfort fort. “you know i don’t care about that shit, sweetness.” he crawls up the bed, hands planted either side of your head and knees either side of your hips so that he can kneel over you. “open that pretty mouth of yours for me.”
the blonde taps your lips once with single finger and you scowl up at him.
“don’t tell me what to do.”
“so fuckin’ grumpy.”
“says you, mister grumpy pants!” you fire back, narrowing your eyes at him this time. “i’m allowed to be, Mother Nature is cursing me because you didn’t get me pregnant.”
“thought we weren’t havin’ kids yet—” bakugou’s words taper off into your favourite sound, his raspy laughter, after you unsheath a pillow from your fortress and lob it in his direction. he catches it (of course, damn pro hero reflexes) and chucks the weapon room across the room before leaning down to kiss you slow. “i gotcha meds and a snack, since you insist on not takin’ ‘em until you’re whiny ‘n miserable.”
you love him, truly, and the hormonal imbalance your period has unleashed upon you might make you tear up at the thought. “‘m not miserable,” you try to deny, letting katsuki pepper your face with smooches so light you have to tug him a little closer — to feel more than just the ghost of his lips on your skin. “what snack did’ya bring me?”
“your favourite, ‘n i got more in the pantry.” reaching into the back pocket of his sweats katsuki pulls out your favourite snack and unwraps it for you — pushing it towards your sealed lips. “now will ya open up?” you do and he hums in content watching you lean forward and take a bite. “good girl.”
you nearly choke. “fuck you.”
“love you.” he responds quickly, sitting back on his haunches to guide you into sitting up. with a rough palm on your back, katsuki reaches over to your night stand for your water. “chew, swallow. meds, drink.”
“bossy.”
“obedient.”
after helping you lay on your back once more, bakugou shuffles down your body and pushes up your pyjama shirt — pressing a kiss to your lower tummy. “you okay with this, sweets?” he coos to you, ruby eyes swimming with love as bakugou glances up at you from between your thighs.
“yeah, s’good,” he’s good to you, smoothing over where your cramps hurt the most. you think you love him a little more like this. soft hair tickling your legs, his lips on your stomach and the twinge of heat from his powerfully destructive hands easing your pain. katsuki bakugou is perfect, lovely. you love him when he’s soft and when he’s not. you love him a lot right now. you hope he loves you too.
bakugou keeps his hands warm, letting the heat tremor through you like a seismic wave to soothe the pain that tears through you uncomfortably. you fingers card through his hair, prickly to look at but soft to the touch as you both bask in the quietness of the moment.
“you gotta start takin’ meds when you’re in pain, no more pretendin’ to be a tough guy, kay?” He tells you, working his hot thumbs just over where the source of your discomfort may be. “i know you don’t like ‘em but even if they help a little…”
he nags at you with love, hands slipping down your sides to encircle your waist — rubbing warmly at your back. “i don’t need meds when i have you.” relief washes over you as you sigh out.
“corny fucker.”
“you love me.”
“oh unfortunately i do.”
katsuki holds you close and intimately, kissing your stomach once more and looks up happily — noticing how visibly relaxed you are.
“don’t be mean to me, you’ll make me miserable,” you tease, the meds finally doing their thing and kicking in. between that and bakugou’s massage you feel yourself drifting off to sleep. “come up here, plant one on me.”
the blonde shifts to loom over you, lips meeting yours tenderly in a ghost trace of a kiss. “can’t have that. miserable, pouty baby. eh?” he feeds you the words with his mouth on yours but pulls away before it gets too steamy. “my baby.”
you squirm in place. “yours.”
“lemme take care of you, baby,” bakugou reiterates, going back to massaging away your cramps. “go to sleep, i gotcha. we’ll have a snack ‘n some more meds when you wake up. kay?”
“‘mkay, love you.”
“love you most, sweetness.”
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strwbrythoughts · 4 months
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no stopping a man in love | alhaitham
In which the traveler and Paimon catches Alhaitham indulging in something unexpected.
A/N: I might as well make this whole blog dedicated to Alhaitham because man's got my heart in a chokehold :(
Divider by @/osqrie
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The House of Daena was filled with the sounds of pages turned over and the quick footsteps of the students flitting from one bookcase to another. Furrowed eyebrows and downturned lips decorated each of their faces. The librarian seemed stressed out to navigate the flurry of students and assist them in finding books. Even a stranger could tell the obvious; examination season was right around the corner.
Alhaitham, the ex-Acting Grand Sage and current Scribe of the Akademiya, had his eyes glued onto his surroundings. Though his expression remained neutral, he couldn't deny the feeling of annoyance building up inside him. The library was way too noisy to be called one. It was a good thing that he was enjoying his read so far. Though, the choice of reading fiction was something that not a lot of people would expect from him.
Yes, he had a book titled "The Genius Falls in Love!" nestled in his hands.
He didn't really catch the eye of anyone. After all, it wasn't weird that the Scribe would spend his day in the library instead of his office. His work hours were long but he never really complied to them. That was something that the students were mighty jealous of. What they didn't know, however, was that his work was always submitted on time with the highest quality. A trait that most of them could only hope to achieve.
Alhaitham put on his noise-cancelling earphones. His eyes relaxed slightly as he could focus better on the book in his hand. He was already on chapter 22. An impressive amount of reading, given that he only received the book that morning.
His body rested fully onto the chair he sat on. He closed his eyes, remembering the sweet smile his wife gave him as she handed him the book.
'Here, honey!' she exclaimed, shoving a book into his hands. 'If you miss me at work, read this book I wrote! And tell me how it went, yeah?'
From the moment he stepped out of their shared house, he flipped the book open. 'Ridiculous,' he thought to himself. 'I always miss you when you're not by my side.'
And so off he went. He finished all the work he deemed urgent enough on that day, before immediately going back to reading. It was quite the comical sight, really. The stoic genius reading a fictional book? A romance, at that? Impossible. Utterly ridiculous.
And yet, here he was.
The work day passed by so quickly when he spent it reading. Before he knew it, the librarian came over to his spot and told him that the library was closing. Alhaitham immediately got up and left to go home.
--
The walk back was quiet and peaceful enough. The mere sight of his wife's face as she greeted him at the door was enough to make a smile appear on his face, no matter how slight.
"Honey! How was work today? What did you eat during lunch? Did you have time to read my book?" It was expected that his wife would bombard him with questions the moment he came home. However, she was special in every way. For instance, he would always answer each question she had calmly, no matter how frequent or stupid they may be.
"I'm back. Work was completed like usual today. I ate the lunch you prepared for me, and I'm halfway through your book, my dear."
His wife giggled at the thought of her husband taking some time out of his busy day to read her work. What she didn't know was that his day was scheduled around her, and never around anything else.
Until the traveler and Paimon had some interesting news to bring to her.
--
"Traveler, look! Is Alhaitham reading...a romance?"
Paimon's voice bounced off the walls of the House of Daena. She had successfully captured the eyes of many students, causing the traveler to put their hand over their head. Perhaps to block a headache induced by her lack of realisation that they were in the library.
Paimon's hands flew over her mouth right after the words were uttered. Her eyes seemed apologetic enough, darting over to the traveler as a silent apology. The traveler merely shot her an awkward smile.
It was a good thing that Alhaitham himself did not pay them any mind. The way his ears perked up slightly showed that he indeed heard Paimon, but perhaps chose to ignore them. However, the eyes glued to his person was quite bothersome, even for someone as stoic as him.
He shut the book in his hands quite loudly, hinting his irritation at Paimon. She only gulped and shot a panicked expression at the traveler, who deadpanned at her. The both of them stood still as they heard Alhaitham's footsteps approach them. He was getting closer and closer with each thud of his footsteps.
"I would appreciate if you did not point out whatever business unrelated to you." His voice was calm, just like his expression. His eyes told a different story all together. The traveler's flying companion could only apologise repeatedly, while the traveler shot him an apologetic smile.
After a few seconds of awkward silence between the trio, the Scribe walked away from the both of them. His right hand carried the romance book he was reading quite delicately, as if it was his most precious treasure. And it truly was.
Anything related to his wife was a treasure to him, and he would never forgive himself if he failed to appreciate even the simplest things about her.
--
"...and that was it! He seemed really annoyed that the Akademiya students were looking at him curiously." Paimon ended her story to Alhaitham's wife. She merely chuckled at the tale.
"Of course he was. He dislikes people getting into his business after all."
"Are you sure he isn't acting like that because he's embarrassed about getting caught reading something so...unexpected, of him?" The traveler furrowed their eyebrows as their companion asked such question with no hesitation. She really needed to learn to read the room sometimes.
Before she could answer, Alhaitham embraced his wife from behind. His eyes were calm, as if having his wife in his arms was all it took to make him feel tranquil.
"Do you really think I'd be reading such book in public if I were to be 'embarrassed' about it? Moreover, how could my lovely wife ever make me feel embarrassed?"
That was more than enough of an answer for the traveler and Paimon. They smiled sweetly at the response. The smiles were short lived, however, as Alhaitham sent them both out of his house, wanting to be alone with his wife.
Ah, well. There's no stopping a man in love, is there?
Thank you for reading! <3
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yaksha-lover · 4 months
Text
As Lovers Go
Malleus Draconia x Reader
Summary: It may not be as grand as royalty is used to, but you do your best to plan a special night for Malleus on his birthday.
something short i scrambled together for my best boy, happy birthday malleus 🫶🫶
“Admittedly, it took some help from Trey to convince Riddle, but I like to think I did most of the work,” you say, leading Malleus by hand into the garden. “Okay, you can open your eyes.”
He blinks a couple times, but adjusts quickly to the nighttime lighting, surveying the scene. You’re in the Heartslabyul gardens, surrounded by red rose bushes on all sides. You’ve stopped in a small, clear area of grass where you’ve prepared for the night, a checkered blue picnic blanket laid out.
“Surprise! I know it’s not exactly a party, but hopefully my company will be enough to satisfy you…”
“When you’ve had over a hundred birthdays, parties begin to become monotonous. I much prefer your quiet company, tonight.”
You smile at Malleus. Even when the night’s about him, he always finds a way to make you feel special. “I hope you like the spot I chose. I know it must be hard being away from Briar Valley and your grandmother during the school year, so I thought I’d try to bring a little bit of home to you with the roses.”
“Thank you, truly.” Malleus turns to gaze around the garden, suddenly catching your hand in his own, running his thumb over your knuckles. “I do hope I’ll have a chance to show you my garden at home. I promise, nothing compares to the sight. Except for you, perhaps.”
“You’re too much, sometimes,” you giggle.
“If I am, do you not believe it is you who inspires such feelings in me?” Malleus teases.
The two of you take a seat on the blanket, talking and staring up at the stars as the night continues. The moonlight shines down on Malleus, making his dark hair shimmer and his skin glow. He’s never looked so beautiful.
“So, are you ready to open your gift now?”
He gives you a look. “I believe I mentioned no present was necessary. I only wanted your company.”
“I know, I know, but I wanted to do something.”
“You’re far too gentle with me. I suppose I’ll have to indulge you then.”
You grin and pull a gift bag out of your tote, handing it over to him. He settles it in front of him, pulling purple tissue paper out of the bag until his gift is revealed.
Malleus pulls out a white knit hat. He shifts to turn it around in his hands, smoothing over the fabric until his fingers run into a hole, popping out the other side.
“Oh yeah, it has holes. Y’know, for your horns.”
He stares at you in wide-eyed silence for a few moments. You break eye contact when it finally begins to feel a bit awkward.
“I know it’s not much, sorry.” You look down at your feet. “It’s just, Crowley only gives Grim and I enough for groceries and essentials. And Lilia only told me your birthday was coming up a couple weeks ago, so I begged Azul to let me pick up some shifts at the lounge, and long story short, I really only earned enough to buy some yarn. It’s super nice though, I promise! I made sure to pick yarn that-”
You’re cut off when you’re suddenly pulled firmly into a strong chest, arms squeezing you tightly.
“I will treasure it as I have treasured nothing else. Thank you.”
You smile, despite the fact that you can’t breathe well in his intense grip. You pat on his arms gently so Malleus will loosen up a bit.
“I’m glad you like it.” When he pulls away, you turn toward the cooler you’d set out with all the treats you’d prepared for him. “Now, what would you like to try first? I got Trey’s help with preparing the frozen desserts, since I thought you might like to have a variety. Oh, maybe cake first? You haven’t made a wish yet and the clock is ticking!”
“If it pleases you, then I will try the cake.”
“Great, it’s ice cream cake.”
You take it out of the box, laying it in front of Malleus and removing the container’s lid.
“May I inquire as to why a piece is missing?”
“Well…you said you hate entire cakes, so I took out a piece. Now it’s not an entire cake. Hopefully you’re in the mood to share a bit more with me tonight? I find even the sweetest things are best enjoyed with company,” you wink at him.
“Are you sure you won’t become too spoiled with all these indulgences I allow you?” He picks up a fork and takes a bit of cake, but he doesn’t taste it as you expect.
“No, but feel free to keep trying,” you mumble through the mouthful of cake Malleus feeds you. “Wait, I have candles. You have to make your birthday wish before we have anymore.”
You set three candles in the centre of the cake. It would be ridiculous to have a hundred, as much as you wish to be accurate to his age. You light them with a lighter, insisting on singing ‘happy birthday’ to Malleus before finally allowing him to make his wish.
“Blowing out fire with my breath instead of creating it with my breath. How amusing, you’ll have to teach me even more of these human customs.”
“What did you wish for?”
He tilts his head. “Am I mistaken in believing humans have customs that suggest it’s bad luck to ask?”
“No, but I’m nosy, so tell me anyway.” You tug gently on his sleeve.
“I only wished for things to continue as they are.”
“That’s all? You don’t want anything new?”
“What do I have to wish for? Everything I’ve always wanted, the thing I used to wish for each year - is already in front of me.”
The two of you talk until the sun comes up, upon which Malleus carries your snoring form home to Ramshackle, a smile lingering on his face from the previous night.
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tenswrld · 6 months
Text
true romance
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popstar!haechan x upcomingartist!reader, angst, fluff
summary: haechan's the world's boyfriend — and yours too, i guess.
word count: 4.1k
listen to: true romance - pinkpantheress
a/n: first, sorry that its been so long...im trying to be better about writing but inspiration comes and goes,,i hope you will indulge in whatever this is!!! everytime i hear this song my mind goes to haechan for some reason sooo yeah >_< i have lots of drafts its just a matter of when or if i finish them LOL love yall tho & enjoy
•°. *࿐
tell me, do you view me the same or do you call me a stranger?
"leave a bit after me so no one sees."
haechan is popular — without a doubt one of the most popular artists of your time. everyone either wants to be him or be with him, to which you completely understand. everything about him screams someone who was born to be on a stage, stealing hearts and whatnot. with such a bright personality, it was almost impossible to not like him.
you've had the privilege of getting to watch haechan grow from singing songs he wrote in his bedroom on youtube to him performing them in sold out shows. you're a fan, of course, but somewhere along the way — with crazy luck — you've wiggled your way into his life and into his heart. the two of you were music artists wishing on every star for some kind of breakthrough to the industry (take a guess on who got it). naturally, it brought you together. you were there when haechan reached 5,000 subscribers, and you were still there when he was selling out shows to 50,000 people. you've stuck by his side for so long that you're sure that its where you fit best.
in the moment, however, you're not so sure anymore.
"leave a bit after me so no one sees."
the small smile on your face slowly disappears at haechan's words and hurt quickly settles into your chest. "...why? what would be so bad about that?"
haechan seems unable to grasp how upset you are at his words. he shakes his head with a small laugh. "it's not like that, y/n. but a scandal at this time wouldn't be good."
"a scandal?" you scoff slightly. "since when have you ever cared about that?"
he sighs and runs a hand through his hair that's still slightly wet from his post-performance sweat. "i just don't want to take any risks right now. especially since my album is coming out soon. you understand, right?"
"i fly all the way out here to see you, and you don't want to be seen with me?" you say with a trembling lip and a weak voice. you're hurt and you're angry, but can't seem to keep your tears at bay.
"i didn't say that."
"you might as well have," you spit back at him.
"let's talk about this later, okay? trust me, it would be a lot worse for you than it would for me." haechan picks up his bag and swings it over his shoulder, making his way towards the backstage exit door.
frozen in place overwhelmed with emotion, you watch your boyfriend open the door. you think he's had a change of heart when he pauses at the door and turns back to you, but somehow he's managed to hurt you even more.
"maybe you should take these too," he says, placing the bouquet you made him back into your hold. the smell of roses and sunflowers taking over your senses as more tears well up in your eyes. you hope the flowers hide them from haechan's gaze. though, you're not so sure he'd notice anyway, as he'd already let the door close and left you behind.
•°. *࿐
'cause, baby, i don't care about the fame
people talk. as an upcoming music artist, you're aware that people talk. as the (hidden) girlfriend of a global superstar, you're more than aware that people love to talk about anything and everything that doesn't concern them.
you and haechan aren't on the same level of fame — not that it matters to you. it never mattered to you, really. even as haechan grew and grew and you remained with your significantly smaller (but still decent) following, fame was never your strongest desire.
yet, now, you're wondering that maybe if you were just a bit more famous, more popular, more well known, then you wouldn't feel as far away from haechan as you do right now. even as he sits beside you on the king bed of the luxury suite he booked for this stop of his tour, you feel further away from him then ever.
"i mean, what would people say about us, y/n? about you?"
"you keep saying that, hyuck, but you're not explaining it to me," you say, growing frustrated with him. "why is it just about me?"
he purses his lips before averting his gaze to the floor. "they'll say nasty stuff about you — that you're using me for fame, or money, or something like that."
you shake your head. "but you and i both know that's not true. we've been together for how many years now? their words shouldn't matter." you take hold of his hand and rub your thumb against his knuckles. "you could have nothing and i'd still be here."
"people don't know that," he scoffs. "they'll assume the worst about you."
maybe he's right — you're sure they will assume the worst about you regardless of your long, deep history with haechan. would he start to believe them? you think it, but you don’t ask — too afraid of the answer you might receive.
"what are you so afraid of?" you ask him softly, begging him with your mind for him to look at you.
but he doesn't, his eyes stayed trained on the ground and he can only weakly squeeze your hand that holds onto his own.
"i don't know."
•°. *࿐
tell me, why i don't play about you
every song is about you
haechan finally has a short break in between the legs of his tour and he chooses to spend every waking moment of it with you.
things between the two of you have felt rocky for a while. it makes haechan ashamed to say it, but he's been so focused on tour and his new album that he's pushed everything else to the side. he's a perfectionist and he feels like he's barely made it — he wants everything to work out perfectly and is committed to making sure that happens. he's not sure how long he's been brushing off anything non-career related, but he misses you — even if you're with him.
he flys the two of you out to a small, quaint place in kyoto where he finally gets to enjoy some peace and quiet in his life. he chooses to turn off his phone, not too keen with the idea of his manager berating him about all his responsibilities he'll have to tend to when he gets back. he's on vacation and he's here with you: the one person who's been with him through every up and down.
you're laying in his arms and haechan misses you to the point where it hurts — when was the last time he laid with you like this? the revelation urges him to pull you closer, placing a soft kiss to the crown of your head as you lay on his chest. he sighs into your hair, breathing all of you in. it's silent, for the most part, until you ask a question that rattles haechan's being.
"why do you not sing about me?" you ask it so softly that haechan almost misses it.
"what? what are you talking about?" he's genuinely confused as to what you mean. who do you think he sings about?
"i know a handful of your old old songs are about me, but you don't perform those anymore," you murmur into his chest. "ah, don't mind me, i'm just talking."
you sound embarrassed and defeated and haechan wants to cry. did you really not know? how long has he been pushing you away?
"y/n, every single song i write is about you," haechan professes. "i couldn't write about anyone else if i tried."
his words shock you, even if they shouldn't. you tilt your head up to look up at him and he looks down at you with the softest gaze.
"not that i ever would, anyway," he continues, a sad smile painting his face.
"you mean it?" you whisper to him, wanting so badly to believe him.
when haechan's resolve breaks and his eyes glaze over, you know he means it. his hold on you tightens with one hand and the other comes up to caress your cheek, swiping a tear you didn't even know had fallen.
"of course," he croaks. "you're my muse, y/n. you."
this time, you're wiping his tears away as he cries and cries into your palms. you shift the two of you so that he lies in between your legs, arms wrapped around your waist and face buried into your torso, your hands running through his hair. he's apologizing over and over and doesn't say why, but you know why. you regret ever doubting haechan's love for you — even if he was to blame.
but, just as you're certain you love him more than anything, you know that haechan loves you back all the same.
"it's always been you, y/n."
•°. *࿐
and everybody’s shouting out your name
“you look too handsome to be pouting like that, you know,” you tease lightly, approaching haechan to adjust his tie fondly.
he can’t help but smile at you as you do so, his hands easily finding their place around your waist, tugging you close. “if you tell me to stay, i will.”
you sigh and place your hands upon his chest, allowing you to push yourself up to place a soft kiss on his lips. his lips trail after yours once you pull away and he pouts at you again, eyes begging for another kiss but you push him back ever so slightly.
“you can’t miss this, hyuck, you know that. this could be really big for you!” you beam, swiping a bit of your lip gloss off of his lips. “some important people might be there.”
“but you won’t be there,” he whines. “what’s the point?”
you roll your eyes playfully. “you’ll be fine. now go, your manager has been waiting.” haechan sighs and leans down to place one more kiss on your lips.
you pull away before he can get carried away. “go! and put a good word in for me with taeyong, yeah?”
haechan rolls his eyes but smiles at you, pecking you on the cheek as he bids you farewell. “no promises.”
ੈ♡˳
it’s barely been over an hour and haechan wants to leave.
normally he’s able to tolerate these sorts of things — the bright lights, loud music, snobby people all trying to one up each other. he can get by and chat with anyone as if he’s known them for years. typically, events like these breeze by for haechan. why was he hating every second of it?
it’s lee taeyong’s end of year celebration party. of course, as his junior, haechan was invited. he’s grateful that he’s made friends with lots of other artists under his company, otherwise haechan would have been long gone within the first 45 minutes of arriving. but, haechan stays, mostly because he admires taeyong and does, in fact, bring up you and your songs — which, to his surprise, taeyong says he knows you and enjoys your music.
haechan isn’t given the chance to talk more, unfortunately, due to an excited kim jungwoo who locks an arm around haechan’s shoulder and drags him away.
“ow — hyung! i was in the middle of a conversation!” haechan grits to jungwoo, lightly shoving his arm off of him.
“my bad, it looked like you needed saving,” jungwoo chuckles. “come on, everyone’s been looking for you.”
jungwoo leads haechan to a small circle of people to which haechan knows as his small circle of friends: mark, his company's beloved canadian rapper; johnny suh, one of seoul's most popular djs; and of course there's kim jungwoo, kim doyoung, and jeong jaehyun who make up dojaejung, korea's heartthrob boy group.
"yo, where have you been?" mark greets him excitedly, lightly slapping him on the shoulder playfully.
"what do you mean 'where have i been', i saw you yesterday, mark," haechan grumbles.
"woah, someone needs a drink," johnny chuckles. doyoung is quick to hand haechan a glass of champagne.
haechan takes a large gulp, hopefully to ease whatever tension he feels in his shoulders. he's trying to enjoy the party, he really is, but all he wants to do is come home to you.
"everything okay?" doyoung asks him, concerned with the way haechan seems to be downing his drink.
the younger boy sighs. "yeah, i'm fine, sorry. just stressed out."
"oh, your album is coming out soon, right?" jungwoo remembers, nudging haechan with his elbow. "congratulations!"
the rest of the boys congratulate him and haechan can only half-heartedly reply despite being very grateful.
"i'm sure it'll be great," johnny reassures him.
"saw a lot of love songs on that track list," jungwoo teases. "got a special someone?"
haechan stills at his words and he's caught in an argument with himself. does he mention you? does he say no? is this how he wants people to find out you’re together? before he can even reply, though, jaehyun cuts in.
"speaking of, i heard that kim minjeong has had her eye on you for a while, haechan," jaehyun says. he raises his eyebrows at the younger boy and haechan gulps, the rest of his friends nudging him playfully as they coo at him.
"that's the model, right? and singer?" doyoung asks. "you should talk to her!"
haechan feels like he's going to be sick. maybe he's being dramatic — its not like they're shoving him into minjeong's face and asking him to profess his love. still, he feels like he's betraying you in some way and he realizes he has to go home.
"i can talk you up, probably," mark says. "we're normally at the studio at the same time."
“i heard that shin ryujin has been talking about you, too,” johnny pipes in. “honestly, who hasn’t been talking about you? i’m surprised you’ve done nothing about it.”
doyoung hums. “she seems like your type, donghyuck! i know some people over at —“
"no! no, don't — " haechan places his champagne glass onto a nearby table abruptly and sighs shakily. "just...don't. sorry, i-i don't feel well. i should go."
confused and concerned eyes watch haechan as he rushes towards the nearest exit. he doesn't bother saying goodbye to taeyong, but makes a mental note to send him an apologetic note tomorrow. haechan sees kim minjeong catch sight of him, and he's sure she's about to make an attempt to stop him to chat with the way she looks at him with a flirty gaze. haechan is quick to turn in the opposite direction and flees out of the nearest door.
haechan's manager comes out soon behind him, frenzied after trying to catch up to a frantic haechan. he doesn't get the chance to ask the latter if he's okay, too occupied with calling their driver upon haechan's request.
"home," he chokes out. he's out of breath and he feels dizzy — whether its from the champagne or from guilt, he's unsure.
"i want to go home."
•°. *࿐
i'm in the crowd, can you see my hand?
haechan has reached the encore of his final show of his tour, yet he still feels a pressure that he cannot explain.
its not from all of his seniors and friends that attended in support of him, he knows that. it's not from the different producers and music artists that flew to seoul for him, either. its a pressure that weighs on his chest that has made him feel unsatisfied with each stage, despite putting 150% effort in everything.
the crowd is going crazy for him after he delivers his final ment, and he takes a moment to soak in it all, in hopes it would give him some peace of mind.
then, his eyes finally spot you.
you, in the back row of some random section, sitting with your manager, with a banner with his name on it and a headband with bear ears perched on top of your head. he doesn't know if you can tell that he's staring right at you, but you start waving around the banner with excitement. haechan can't help but adore you even more than he already does.
time stops for him as he realizes that you're here. through thick and thin you've always been there — what has haechan ever done for you? he hasn't given you even a sliver of what you deserve, yet you've never left him. you stayed when he was a nobody, and even now when he's been terribly selfish, you let him be.
there are thousands of other hands waving at him, but haechan can only see yours.
"actually," haechan starts, quickly silencing the crowd. "there's one more thing i wanted to say."
from your seat, you feel your heartbeat quicken. haechan is still standing and looking into your direction and you know he sees you.
"there's someone very special to me that's here tonight."
your heart stops as you realize what he's doing and you can't help but glance at your manager in a panic. fans around you are murmuring in confusion since haechan had already given a shoutout to his guests.
"they've been by my side since i was writing silly love songs in my childhood bedroom," haechan says, a fond smile taking over his features. "i wrote those love songs about them then, and i still write every love song about them now."
the gasps and shocked noises at his confession fall upon deaf ears — to you, you and haechan are the only two people in the world.
"some of you may know her — she's an amazing music artist as well. far better than me, in my opinion, but maybe i'm a bit biased." haechan sees you laugh and can't help but chuckle too.
"my girlfriend, y/n, is here tonight, and i couldn't be more grateful. wave, y/n!" haechan calls out to you. surprisingly, the camera cuts to you as you wave shyly, hiding behind your haechan banner. even more surprising, the crowd cheers loudly for you.
"isn't she cute?" haechan asks. he's delighted when he sees and hears the rest of the stadium agree.
haechan finally feels that weight lift from off of his chest and he feels like he can breathe. he's happy — ecstatic, even — now that the world finally knows he's yours.
"y/n, you once asked me what i was afraid of, and i said i didn't know," haechan recalls gently. "but i know now." he purses his lips to prevent himself from choking up.
"you've always been so supportive of everything i've done. you've done so much for me and i'm not sure how i could ever repay you." haechan sucks in a sharp breath. "i'm afraid that i'll never truly deserve you."
the crowd coos and some fans in front of you turn around to look at you. you're a mess: tears are streaming down your face, and your hands are shaking. you hide pathetically behind your banner again as your manager wraps a comforting arm around your shoulder.
"i'm sorry for making you wait." haechan puts a hand over his heart, and you do the same. "i love you."
the camera cuts to you again and haechan glances at the monitor to get a better look at you as you mouth something back. haechan doesn't even attempt to conceal his smile or to hold back his tears. there's no use.
"i love you, too."
•°. *࿐
say what you want, this is true romance
“did you really have to mention that, hyuck?”
your boyfriend settles next to you on the couch, arm draping over your shoulder, as you scroll through his recent interview with vogue korea.
you pout at him and he's unable to stop the smile that takes over his face. he pinches your cheek and you quickly swat his hand away.
"what? what did i say?" he rests his chin on your shoulder to read the article for himself.
"i mean, does the public really have to know about me crying on our first date?" you complained. you continued scrolling and laughed as you read. "in what context would you ever have to tell vogue about our matching crayon shin-chan pajama pants?"
haechan laughs and presses a kiss to your shoulder. "honestly, i don't remember half of what i said during this interview. or any of what they asked me." he tugs you a little closer to him so that you're leaning against him, laying the two of you down. "all i know is that i'm pretty sure i started talking about you so much that they just called it a day."
"you're that obsessed with me, huh?" you teased.
haechan scoffs, wrapping both of his arms around you tightly. "obviously."
he watches you open instagram and sees you check the likes on your new post. he gasps dramatically, loosening one arm around you to snatch his phone from his pocket. "you posted?! where was my post notification?" he whines cutely.
he's a little too quick to find your account and he then quadruple clicks the picture to give it a like. "babe, why are your comments off? i was about to get really out of pocket," haechan whines again.
"okay, first, don't do that, please. save some of your dignity," you scold him. "but its because people are mean," you admit softly.
haechan's eyebrows furrow together and his tone stiffens. "who? what did they say?"
you sigh. "no one specific, don't worry. some people are just not too keen about us. your predictions were right, i guess," you attempt to joke, but it only makes haechan upset.
"here, come here," haechan beckons you up with him as he sits up. you're still under one of his arms, which he locks around your neck as he tugs you into his side. you're caught off guard, but lean into him anyway, arms wrapped around his torso. haechan lifts his phone up and takes selfies of the two of you, cheeks pressed together as you both smile uncontrollably.
you're both giggling like two high schoolers fresh into a relationship and you've never felt more happy and in love in your life. haechan presses wet kisses against your cheek before you eventually push his face away. still, he steals one more kiss from you — this time on your lips — and you let him.
"okay, i'm posting all of these," haechan declares casually, leaning back against the couch.
your eyes widen and you reach for his phone in an attempt to stop him, but haechan has already dodged you and raised his hand up. "hyuck, don't."
"why not? i'm in love with you, people just have to deal with it," he shrugs. "anyone who has a problem with us can get blocked."
you fall onto haechan's chest and he gladly wraps you up in his arms again. "you're stupid, but i love you."
"good, because i just posted it."
you peer up at haechan's phone and you see that he was true to his word. all of the selfies you just took piled into one singular post to which haechan captioned 'my heart'. you watch as he scrolls through the comments and blocks anyone with anything bad to say.
"wow, you weren't kidding," you say, amused.
"'course not. these people need to learn true romance." he leans down to kiss you one more time, this time letting the kiss linger. he pulls away but rests his forehead against yours, staring at you with eyes full of love. "i love you, too, by the way."
ੈ♡˳
haechan is popular — without a doubt, he's one of the most sought after guys in the industry. he's confident, charismatic, and he's bright. he's everyone's dream guy, it's no secret.
but, above all, he's yours, and you're his as well. he has devoted his heart and life to you and its not a secret to anyone anymore.
this time around, haechan wraps you up in his scarf to protect you from the cold before the two of you leave.
"i already have a scarf on, hyuck, just keep yours," you mumble from underneath the thick fabric.
haechan doesn't hear you (not just because he literally can't) because he's too focused on zipping up your jacket and tugging your beanie over your ears.
"okay," he says as he intertwines a hand in yours. he clutches the bouquet you made for him proudly in his other arm while he carries your bag and his own over his shoulder. "let's go home!"
its bittersweet as you realize how familiar yet different the situation is. you clutch haechan's hand tighter as he tugs you towards the backstage exit door, outside where the press and his fans are waiting.
he doesn't hide you anymore. no, instead haechan shows you off proudly and wholeheartedly as if it was what he was meant to do.
525 notes · View notes
zhongrin · 1 year
Text
“honey, can you… leave me alone?”
— (sometimes, we all just need some downtime for ourselves)
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◇ characters ◇ zhongli, al haitham, diluc, kaeya, kaveh, thoma, albedo, wanderer, xiao
◇ tags ◇ angst with comfort, established relationship, petnames
◇ a/n ◇ oh wow! guys!! i wrote angst with comfort!!! guys!!!!!!! are you proud of me????? this is kinda self-indulgent bc i wrote this when i was just. tired. you know, those moments where you genuinely just want to shut down and be in your own company? yeah.
𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡
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zhongli smiles patiently. and if he judged that you would allow him to, he would place a kiss on top of your head before stepping away. his movements are graceful and calculated, amber eyes ever so observant as he watches the droop of your lashes and the downturn of your lips.
ah. you’re in that kind of mood.
with a firm nod, he promises to give you all the space you needed, as long as at the end of the day you return to his arms. a few hours or days of waiting would certainly make him miss you terribly, but zhongli is a patient man, and your well-being matters most.
“of course. you’ll come to me when you’re ready, yes?”
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al haitham understands your needs very well. contrary to most people’s beliefs, he would put them just as equally high - if not more - than his own needs most of the time.
he simply nods upon your words and, after much consideration, would place his soundproof headphones on your side before he leaves the room, carefully minding his footsteps as he walks towards kaveh’s room to inform the architect of the situation and remind him to tone his antics down.
“alright. call me if you need anything.”
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diluc would automatically ask you if something is wrong or is bothering you - it’s his protective instincts, don’t blame him too much - but he knows not to probe further when you give him that look.
he offers for a maid to deliver your favorite warm drink later, and with one last comforting squeeze of his hand on top of yours, he leaves, his head full of questions and his heart set to spoil you rotten the moment you return to his side.
“adelinde? tell the maids to skip cleaning [name]’s study today. and tell the workers to be especially quiet when they walk about the second floor.”
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kaeya might only have half the eyesight normal people have, yet he’s anything but inattentive, especially when it comes to you. he settles with a light, fleeting caress upon your cheek with his gloved hand, and he presses a tender kiss to your forehead before retreating, offering you a sympathetic grin.
“i got you, babe. i’ll be at the office doing paperwork for once, but you can visit me anytime, okay?”
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thoma holds back the urge to fuss over you like the mother hen that he is.
he knows about this habit of yours - sometimes lady ayaka exhibits the same behavior - so he knows he shouldn’t be too worried. you always get over this eventually; what you need now is time, and just like any other point in time in your relationship, he is more than willing to accommodate all of your desires.
“do you need me to sleep at the couch tonight? it’s really no trouble at all, love. anything that makes you most comfortable, okay?”
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kaveh visibly pouts and looks like he’s about to cry when you ask him for such a request.
he can’t help it, okay? he wants to hold and kiss and cherish you constantly! so having to deliberately spend some time apart from you is torture to him… plus, those tired eyes of yours hurt his poor empathetic heart more than anything.....
with a saddened nod, he fiddles his fingers and gives you a pair of wet puppy eyes.
“are you sure, baby? …... you know you can tell me anything, right? …… whenever you’re ready, okay, precious? i’ll be in the living room, then…. come find me soon, okay, my love?”
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albedo doesn’t even bat an eye. he’s already long since memorized your behavioral patterns, and from your recent ventures, he did conclude that this was going to happen. all within expectations, he muses, yet he can’t help but feel saddened at the exhaustion prominently displayed on your features.
with a soft smile, he places his specially curated ‘care package’ on your lap along with a gentle kiss on your cheek before exiting the room and hanging a “do not disturb - contact albedo instead” sign right in front of the door.
“there are a few snacks and calming scented candles inside, along with a few interesting puzzles and crafts. i thought you might like them and find them relaxing. i’ll be at the lab - just send a message through sucrose or timaeus if you need me.”
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wanderer’s automatic response is a half-fearful, half-angry “are you fucking serious? hell no!”, but the second emotion is amplified when he sees the murkiness in your expression.
he swears to inflict pain upon whoever dared to put this expression on your face, but he falters when you explain your thoughts the best you can in your current headspace. eventually, with a scowl on his face and a gruff "fine.", the door closes behind him and he slides onto the floor. sure, you can shoo him away, but he has no intention to move from that spot until you reopen the said door.
“….. hmph. guess being a puppet is a good thing at times like these.”
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xiao relates to your struggles far too well. he simply nods and teleports out from the room as fast as he could, not wanting his karmic debt to affect your mood further negatively.
throughout it all, your silent protector watches from afar and listens to the wind around you ever so cautiously. just because he agreed to give you space, it doesn’t mean he can’t continue to make sure you’re safe and sound, after all.
“understood. you need only call my name when you are ready to see me.”
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© zhongrin | 2023 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!
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◇ taglist ◇ @thestarsofenkanomiya | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @herdrops | @diebischesther | @marina-and-the-memes | @angryhope | @mixed-kester | @shuangxo | @fiannee | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ladylofspades | @sup-zfam | @ansy-tea | @irethepotato | @nachotrash | @algrimmammon | @sassy-cat-in-town
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luniarix · 18 days
Text
FAVORITE FOLLOWER
ᥫ᭡synopsis : you have a mysterious follower who has been swiping up on your stories to flirt with you, and when you finally stop hesitating to reply back, he’s quick to make sure he sweeps you off your feet. if you let him, of course.
ᥫ᭡NOTE : the texts are a bit cut off, and i rlly don’t know how to fix it since it’s an app thing so :’))) (and don’t mind the dates on the texts(´;ω;`) it was too much of a hassle to change em LMAO) but just know that toji is complimenting you in each text you sexies <333
CW : fem!reader, chubby!reader, shy!reader, fluff, flirting, gentleman!toji, biker!toji, reader being an overthinker, slight angst (reader’s inner thoughts), talks of insecurity and reassurance, long distance!au, texting!au (with some cheesy texts), toji pining after u first o(`ω´ )o, the bff is up to interpretation of your own gals :-)
a prequel to *⁀➷ 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙤 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜
“did he swipe up again?” your best friend asks, taking a bite out of the fruit bowl she was indulging in. you chew on your bottom lip, a way to try and suppress your lingering smile as you glance at her. “uh—yeah.” you breathlessly say, staring at the dms between you and another user.
toji was his name. you knew that much by his user and the way friends addressed him in the comments. he was a mysterious person, because although he posted himself, it was never much of his face. he was a biker, and he’d usually post the late night drives he went on. so that means, his helmet was all you could usually see.
but oh god, even if he didn’t show his face, everything else about him was so sexy. you just knew that he was so, so handsome. your best friend never fails to mention that huge possibility when the topic of toji himself is brought up—and intrigues you even more about who he really is.
“what’d he text you?” your friend asks, raising a brow as she sees the way you’re trying to hide the growing smile as you’re staring at your phone screen. you clear your throat, trying to act nonchalant. “nothing, he just said that i look pretty from my story.” she stares at you with a knowing look.
“let me see.” she gets up to walk over to you, curiosity and excitement written all over her face. you bashfully hesitate to show her your screen, but when you do—she’s practically geeking.
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“girl why haven’t you replied to him yet?!”she scrolls up to see that he’s been consistently replying to your stories for a while, and you’re looking away from her piercing stare.
“2 and a half months of him flirting in your dms? and you’ve only been liking his texts?babes c’mon!! you should answer him!” your friend playfully hits her hips with yours and you groan. “well i would but—but i just haven’t had the courage to.” you place your head down, folding your arms under your head as support. your friend scoots closer towards you and places your phone right beside your elbow.
“just start by responding to his most recent flirty text to the picture you posted the other day.” you raise your head up again and grab your phone, glancing at your friend anxiously. she winks back at you in reassurance. you huff and slowly straighten your back, staring at your screen as you try to think of how to finally respond to him.
spring had just started rolling around, and the picture you posted on your story was of you in a long sleeve body con dress. you didn’t look anywhere near extravagant, as it was simply supposed to be an outfit out for a arcade night with your friends. but the way toji complimented you, you might as well have been wearing a dress to some gala.
he always had a formal way of complimenting— and if you were being honest, you liked it so much more than what other men were complimenting you with.
u fine asf. u send? and yo u sexy, let me hit pls aren’t exactly what a girl wants to hear as a conversation starter.
you suck in your bottom lip, chewing on the soft skin as you begin to type. you wanted to respond at one point, but with how highly he praised you, you shied away from flirting back as you felt a bit intimidated by him— more so because he was so mysterious and the way he carried himself was intriguing. you wanted to get to know him, truly.
but if you didn’t live up to what he was expecting? if you end up making him pull away somehow? if he wanted more than you could give? if you weren’t enough?
the overwhelming thoughts of overthinking chipped away at your eagerness to reply back, and so you’ve been putting it off. but with the push of your friend, you decide that it’s time to finally pull up those big girl panties and text the man that has been complimenting you in ways that has you swooning over and over again.
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you decided that it’d be best to respond with a simple thank you, as you were still nervous as to how to start a conversation with him.
you stare at the screen as you groan, cringing at your own texts as you believed that maybe you should’ve said something different. you began to debate if you should just delete the text and say something else, but the more you thought about it the more you got into your own head. it wasn’t until you see the words “seen” under your texts that you begin freaking out.
“oh my god he’s texting—what the fuck!!” you panicked as you threw your phone across the table and began to fan yourself. your friend stares at you before cracking up, grabbing your phone as she hears a ding. “he texted you back already? girl he want you so bad. hurry up and reply!” she tosses your phone back to you, and you groan as you try to calm your nerves.
this was so stupid, it’s not like this was the first time someone was sliding up your dms—but it was different with him. toji was someone who you’d started crushing on the first time he swiped up. so like, freaking out was a normal reaction no?
“hurry up and check what he said!!” your friend ushers you while laughing to turn your phone back on as you playfully swat her away. you go back to instagram, and you can’t help but get flushed all over again.
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you wince in shame. of course he would ask you as soon as you replied back—after all, you did keep him hanging for 2 and a half months while he was basically flirting with the wall in your dms. but he can’t blame you! you liked all of his texts, and you were just too shy (more like hesitant) to respond back until now! he’ll understand, right?
you sigh at the utter arrogance of that thought process. but you had to be honest with him, you knew that. but starting off a conversation in which you explained your insecurities and overthinking with him wasn’t a good first impression for yourself for a man that could blossom into someone more than a stranger—so you decided to give him a short yet truthful answer.
maybe, if (when) you two had the chance to grow into something more in the future, you would answer him in full.
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if you were being honest, it’s quite endearing to know that toji’s clearly been waiting for your responses, and he’s now typing back. you tug at your oversized shirt as you let out a sigh of relief.
it was an exhale that you didn’t even know you were holding in.
you softly laugh at your silly overthinking, realizing how much you let the thoughts consume you that you hadn’t even given yourself the chance to get to know toji.
it seemed frightening the longer you pondered the interaction, and you probably should’ve done this a while ago.
after all, the things that frighten us within our minds tend to be less scarier when we’re actually faced with them.
“so how’s the convo with mysterious biker going?” your friend's soft-spoken voice brings you out of your inner monologue. you turn your body slightly towards her as you place your phone down to calm your nerves. they were good nerves, though. you were excited to finally get to talk to him.
a small but glowing smile forms on your lips as you prop your elbows on the table, resting your chin on your palms. "it's going good—and we're getting towards an actual conversation." your friend doesn’t miss how your eyes twinkle with giddiness, and she grins at you. “okay girl, see—i told you you should’ve texted him way sooner.” she gives you a pointed stare and you avert your gaze embarrassedly.
“i know,” you sheepishly shrug your shoulders, grabbing your phone again to look at what toji said. “i might have been holding myself back from letting him in—even if it was for just a moment.” you admit, words slowly dying out as you stare at your screen.
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oh my. did he just call you mamas? and he’s been wanting to get to know you? he’s been wanting you? this whole time?
you almost let out a loud squeal, but you cover it up by keeping your fist near your mouth, muffling the giddy noise you made. was it even possible to fold this fast in a conversation? because surely, you knew by now that you didn’t want to stop here.
you almost didn’t even notice the change of texting toji had because of how exhilarated you felt, but you found it so cute as you believed it to be him getting more comfortable with you.
oh, you should’ve—really should’ve—talked to him much sooner. but you shouldn’t dwell on it anymore, as you still ended up talking to him. you begin to type, cheeks hurting from how hard you’re grinning, and your head in cloud 9.
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“so,” your friend starts, having you turn your attention to her once again. "i see that you and toji are hitting it off pretty well, huh?" she raises her brows at you teasingly. you laugh, nodding your head in response.
“yeah… i—” you cut yourself off, trying to figure out how to put your thoughts into words. “i thought that it would be really intimidating if i ever talked to him, but i realized that i was just… afraid, i guess?” you timidly shrug your shoulders, because admitting how you felt out loud made you realize how trivial your hesitation actually was.
“now you know, hm?” your friend gives you a warm smile, knowing that the realization had hit you. she doesn’t tease you about it, nor does she make any more comments besides that.
no one should be forced to step out of their comfort zone if they aren't ready to do so anyway.
you give her a toothy-grin, nodding energetically. you were ecstatic—to say the least. “i’m not sure where this’ll go but i really want to take that leap—he’s super sweet and so cute.” your friend whistles in agreement. “look at what he’s said then!”
and so you do.
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a sudden surge of warmth blooms and spreads throughout your chest, reaching up your neck and spreading across your face. you were warm, but it (mostly) wasn’t because you were swooning for toji once again—it was because you felt like this was the start of something new.
you had a gut feeling that this was going to be a long, and most definitely exciting new journey. and this time; you weren’t hesitant.
feel free to leave ideas in my inbox or a comment ♡ if i made any grammar mistakes that i missed, lmk! and thank u so much for reading (●´ω`●)
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mochinomnoms · 10 days
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Counterpoint, you cannot look at me in the eyes and tell me the merboys also do not end up romantizing somethings that are deeply common to land folk, Jade is the easy one to figure out, nature and mushrooms, Floyd is really into clothes and shoes so i guess it can count for something and Azul, well, i don't know what he'd end up romantizing
OH THEY DO FOR SURE
Like I said, it's funny to them that others find the ocean so mysterious and romantic, and yet find themselves to do the same.
Jade has said before that merfolk sometimes become so enamored with the surface that they collect items and yearn to live above, but doesn't understand it. However, he finds himself bewitched by the climate on the surface, the variety of plants and animals, and is of course very fond of mushrooms. Y'all know that one post on mushrooms that says "you cannot kiss me in a way that matters" yeah Jade loves that shit.
Floyd, despite his initial dislike, thinks that the way people dress and change their appearance is so cool! Merfolk only change their appearance based on the weather, time of day, or environment. But humans? They can change it sometimes just cause! He especially thinks shoes are super neat, and that they are so customizable. And they all come in way more varieties than merfolk due, in all sorts of colors that he's never seen before under the sea!
And Azul, well, you might be hard-pressed to get it out of him, but he is in loooove with the variety of foods available. Fried foods are not a thing under the sea, as are most hot foods. So discovering all these various type of foods, the different textures and flavors and temperatures? How wonderful it is! At this time in canon, he's very reserved with what he eats, but hopefully in the future he will indulge in a few more treats of the surface!
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