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#I do have guesses but I really wanna hear from you guys first
witchpassing · 13 hours
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interview_3aC
I got into piloting during the Third Generation. For the historically illiterate, that’s before the breakpoint, not after. Summer Offensive, Chelsk Offensive, ‘81, ‘82… All that shit.
When you say pilot now, people get a certain mental image. It wasn’t like that, back then; end of the day, a G3 frame is basically just another kind of tank. Hot like hell inside and full analogue control. You had to think five, six, seven seconds ahead sometimes, because that’s how long it’d take you to string together the inputs for what you were doing next.
I was good. I mean, I’m good at my job now, sure, but… you should’ve fuckin’ seen me then.
... Anyway. Long and short of it is, I got unlucky. Everyone does, sooner or later. Coterie railcannon caved in part of my cockpit, crushed my leg to dogmeat, and that was that. A few years later, they’d have amputated, plugged in a spare, and sent me back in, but this was ‘83, the tech wasn’t there yet. We were hearing about it, you know, shit on the grapevine about the brain-machine barrier, weird tests underground out in Lysk, but I don’t think any of us really believed in it.
I wanna say I knew what was coming, but I didn’t. Nobody did.
So. Cockpit breach. Fucked leg. They did a lot of work, got it to where I could walk on a good day, but it was obvious I wasn’t gonna cut it any more. Took my pension, checked out, spent eight years in the worst dyke bars I could find. Don’t really wanna talk about that part. That’s not what you’re here for, anyway.
So I’m a few years down the line, losing my mind somewhere in Sengrade, and I get a call. It’s this guy I used to know, I never really nailed down what he did, Information maybe, and he’s telling me about this program they’re spinning up over in Lysk, and sure that rings some alarm bells but what am I gonna do, say no? I don’t even need to hear the specifics, he’s trying to tell me it’s the next big jump in frame tech, it’s gonna win us the war, whatever, I’m already halfway onto a train.
The job turned out to be the Fifth Generation. Not only was the brain-machine barrier real, but they’d smashed clean through it. I said a G3 is basically a tank, right? So I was expecting an iteration on the form. Sharper, sleeker sure, but at the end of the day just a prettier-looking tank.
Well, I was dead fuckin’ wrong. Seeing something that size move that way, it’s… I don’t think I can put it into words. Go find a poet or something. Ask them what they think about Gen 5.
… Didn’t come for free, of course. The neural throughput on a machine that size will cook an unprepared brain like a fuckin’ egg. You need to be dosed to the gills on a whole cocktail of ten-syllable shit to take it for more than a few minutes, and the drugs make you weird. Horny, mostly - I’m sure you’ve heard about that - but you’re also looking at impaired impulse control, difficulty with long-term thinking, emotional disregulation, mania… Plus, there’s something in the cocktail or the link or both that is bastard habit-forming. You see them counting the hours between sorties. They adjust to the hyperstimulation, get calibrated to it, and then everything else is just too god-damn quiet.
Think maybe it’s carcinogenic, actually, but you didn’t hear that from me.
So, yeah. Weird. Command doesn’t want weird operating superweaponry. Weird doesn’t make sound tactical decisions. Which means all the shit that makes somebody a functioning soldier - the long-term decision making, the impulse control, the ability to give a fuck about the rules of engagement - it had to be outsourced.
The term they used at first was “special consultant”. Then “special consulting officer”, once we hit field testing. It wasn’t “handler” until later.
The first crop of us - I’m just gonna say handlers, I know how you’re gonna wanna spin this, I get it - were all ex-pilots. G3, mostly; Gen 4 didn’t leave a lot of material to work with. I guess the idea was we were the closest you could get to a G5 candidate’s frame of reference, but it was pretty clear within the first few months that that was bullshit. Some of us took to it, some of us washed out. A lot couldn’t take the wetwork, which I guess I can sympathise with.
Me, I handled it fine. Better than I should’ve, maybe. Being a tanker didn’t do shit for me, but my dad, he was a dog trainer, and… Yeah, well, you get the idea.
… No, no. The other kind of wetwork. You know what I mean.
The leg? Ha. Yeah, they offered me a prosthetic. ‘Course they did. But, call me a hypocrite, whatever you want - by that point I was six months in and I knew with total fuckin’ certainty I didn’t want the link. I spend enough of my time helping the military put their shit into peoples’ bodies, you know? I don’t want it walking home with me.
… No, I don’t understand why they keep signing up. Early days, sure, nobody knew what it did to you back then, but there’s been leaks, people’ve talked - hell, I’m talking right now. You can find our burnouts in any dive in the country, or what's fuckin' left of them. The candidates now, they know what we do to people here, and they just keep coming, and coming…
Though, you know… I think sometimes about the first time I saw a Gen 5 machine take off, that first day on the program. The way it moved against the blue-black of the sky, like it weighed nothing at all. And I almost get it.
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feuer-bluete · 5 months
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Genuine question to the Superbat writers and readers out there.
How do you guys or the fandom in general treat non-power!aus?
I know how my fandom handle my boys (Avengers) but I am not quite that involved with Superbat or DC in general to have come across many non-power!aus.
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caitlinbueckers · 1 month
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baby daddy.
paige bueckers x reader
3.2k
like guys . I don’t even know what to say rn . this is PURE fucking filth like yas there is some exposition in the beginning and its dialogue heavy but like ✋✋ just know this is fucking porn . So sorry for anon if this isn’t up to par but the wormz took over my brain and this is all i have to show for it . Love u so much for the idea tho <3
ANYWAYZZZ !!!! you and paige buy a strap. filth ensues.
MAJOR 18+ WARNING!!!!
“babe.”
it’s deadpan, borderline exasperated as you turn your head, meeting a wildly unimpressed expression from paige that makes you snort out loud, hand coming up to cover your mouth.
in your girlfriends hand, dangling from her fingers, is a dildo of some sorts, shaped horrifically in the form of an anatomically incorrect fist, and it’s almost impossible to keep your surprised laughter from bubbling out, taking a step closer with a look of awe.
“dude, you’re kidding,”
“babe, why are we even here? like, deadass i have two hands and ten fingers, this is so extra.”
to be fair, she had a point— those two hands and ten fingers had never done you wrong in the slightest, but this was simply an act of impulse, deciding just that morning after you guys had spent the time with each others hands down each others pants, you’d declared in a sudden rush of post-nut clarity, that you simply had to see paige in a strap.
which, was met with a bit of intrigue and then, obviously, because paige bueckers is competitive in anything she can consider herself good at, couldn’t help but interrogate you in outright disbelief.
‘so, what i’m hearing is that i’m not enough?” it was said in the tone she uses when her sarcasm is over the top, and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you, slapping her arm.
‘baby, stop being so dramatic, oh my god.”
you’d kissed her to silence her delusions as to why you’d even brought it up in the first place, before explaining ever so gently that it was never a matter of what paige couldn’t do, and more so about the capabilities of what she could do, and that you promised it would be fun.
truly, she was on board after you’d told her that for some girls it was hard to use, so that, ‘if she couldn’t handle it, she could give up’ — of course paige would never back down from a challenge.
“you do have two hands, and i love them just the same. i just wanna try it, okay? is that okay?” you say it in your quiet, softest voice, and maybe you’re kinda being a brat because you know paige could never say no to you when you talk like that, or when you walk up to her, tracing a thumb against her cheek before pulling her down to peck her nose.
it’s immediate the way she chases your lips, presses a quick one to your mouth before she’s rolling her eyes, “anything for my baby, i guess.” but, she’s smiling, and that feels like more progress than before.
in the end, you guys end up picking something pretty beginner level— it’s only six inches, has a dual ended pleasure vibrator nestled in the crotch for the one wearing it and due to paige’s prompt request, it is in fact purple, which only makes you laugh at the excited shimmy she does as you both walk out, hand in hand, the black privacy sack swinging between her fingers.
“thought you were so against the idea?” you couldn’t help but tease her once you guys are in the car, music already blasting— you know all her music without really knowing it, but it’s definitely something by brent faiyaz.
“yeah,” she shrugs, “until i thought about getting to fuck you with it.” she says coyly, glancing over at you with a raised eyebrow before she’s pulling out of the lot, hand secured on your thigh.
you guys don’t really get to it that night, or the next day— instead settling for the slow, tired morning sex that you guys indulge in before her practice and then after, the languid, loving type of sex you both revel in for the evening when she’s back at the dorms.
no, for some reason, it isn’t until a week or so later that it suddenly comes up— and even then, you weren’t necessarily thinking about it too hard, not until the teams all at dinner. you, paige, KK, and aubrey all sit together, and it’s really in moments like these that you love to actually participate in conversations with the team— KK and aubrey had been one of the first to welcome you in with open arms after you and paige had begun dating, so you really felt most at ease with them, even if they could be complete idiots.
not like paige was any better.
it had started with someone making a tiktok, going around asking who they’d never let their son or daughter date— resoundingly, enough people said paige, which was both parts hilarious for you, and astounding for paige.
“bro! literally i’m like, the best girlfriend, that’s some bull.” she couldn’t help but scoff, even if she’s smiling just a little, “baby, i’m a good girlfriend, right?”
you purposely take a minute to answer, pretending to think about it until she grasps your thigh beneath the table, making you snicker as she squeezes, and suddenly, you know exactly the angle she’s playing.
“girl, i don’t trust you,“ KK snorts, making a face, “you’d probably get my kid pregnant or somethin’, like—“
KK’s words make paige snort, shrugging a bit, “shoot, i mean, no wonder they call me baby daddy.” she sticks her tongue out, entirely too immature for the setting of the restaurant, but it makes you warm all over anyway— you love her, even when she’s being childish, which is pretty much most of the time.
the conversation continues after that, and though you pay attention, laugh when it’s funny and answer when you need to, you can’t quite get that out of your head— baby daddy.
it makes you think.
it’s late by the time you guys get home, and true to paige’s fashion, the door is only shut and locked for a second before she’s behind you, pressing kisses to your neck and sliding hands up your shirt, humming quietly— “i’m a good girlfriend, yeah?”
it’s not often that paige asks for reassurance, mostly because she usually already knows, but it’s why it makes it extra special when she does.
“duh.” you whisper out, tilting your head back to grant her more access while she sneaks a hand into your jeans, forgoing the button entirely. her fingers are prodding against your clit when you let out a soft moan, your fluttering eyes only opening for half a second before they spot the black sack from across the room, your own hand gently grasping her wrist to still its movements.
“baby, why don’t we…?” your tilt your head in the direction, leaning your head sideways to try and capture her reaction.
surprisingly, she looks just as interested.
it’s comes out quietly, pressed to your temple, “get on the bed then.”
you don’t waste much time, stepping out of your jeans and your top until there’s nothing left but the black, simple thong that rests against your hips, crawling back against her purple sheets with an inquisitive look on your face while she pulled the thing from its plastic package.
“remember what you said earlier?” you say offhandedly as you watch paige’s muscles flex and tighten, looping the belt around her before she glances up at you, “which part?”
“baby daddy,” you can’t help but grin, tossing your head back against the bed, “just wanted to see how true that is.”
paige scoffs, and it’s obvious she likes that, plays into it even as she crawls onto the bed, looking down at you with a narrowed glance, “how true what is? that i could get you pregnant?”
it’s almost immediate the way your body flushes at that, the subconscious squeeze of your thighs together as you look up at her through lidded eyes, “mhm. is that bad?”
“i mean,” she’s smirking though, and her hand wraps around the strap on slowly, as if simulating it to be an extension of herself— it’s really fucking hot, “it’s sexy that you even thought about it like that,” she whispers, and you can practically see the confidence rising within her at the prospect, before her eyes flicker up at you. “wanna suck me off, ma?”
it makes something within you go haywire, and your mouth practically fills with saliva as if to prepare for it before you nod slowly, propping yourself up on your elbows before you stick your tongue out, paige’s blue orbs never leaving you for one second, before she’s sighing, hard under her breath, “fuuuck.”
she gets up on her knees, running her hands through your hair to gently guide your mouth down to the tip, her teeth teasing the bottom of her lip as you slowly slid the length into your mouth. it felt foreign, heavy on the tongue, but the texture was so lifelike, it almost felt like it was attached to paige.
“shit, baby,” she sounds out of breath as she thumbs your hair from your eyes, wanting to catch every dirty look you send up to her, mouth full and eyes watering, “god, you’re such… a slut.”
it must’ve been the strap or something, that had the endless string of dirty talk spilling from paige’s mouth, not entirely too uncommon and yet it had shifted the atmosphere completely. it felt lavacious, provocative, tantalizing even.
still, it makes the arousal pool between your legs, making you practically squeeze your thighs together again and again, chasing the feeling of some type of friction as paige pushed her hips up slightly, the tip only then touching the back of your throat and eliciting the first drop of a tear from your eye.
she notices, because she doesn’t miss a thing, and is slow as she pulls it from your mouth, eyes lingering on the string of saliva that connected your bottom lip from the tip of the strap.
she’s breathing heavy, blonde strands falling into her face, loose from the usual braid she kept her front pieces in as she grasps your jaw, “does that hurt?”
it doesn’t, but it makes you smirk that she even asks, shaking your head before you lean back now, head hitting the mattress as you open your thighs, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.
“you can make it hurt,” you suggest, and paige lets out a slow exhale, a teasing grin on her smile as she grasps it by the hilt, “you’re driving me fucking crazy, y’know that?” the words are hissed down at you, spoken between her lips, chapped from how hard she’d been breathing as she rubs the tip of the now warmed, messily lubricated length against your cunt, eyes narrowed and focused as she drags it up, then down.
“you’re so wet,” it sighs out of paige as if she doesn’t even realize that she’d said it, a whine puffing past your lips involuntarily, ready to spit some type of urgency towards her, until she pushes in, finally, and you fucking gasp.
it was unlike what you’d really ever felt before— especially having never been with men or experimenting with penetration on this degree. it’s thicker than you expect, thicker than paige’s fingers combined, and your back arches upwards off the bed, right as paige grasps your hip to keep you right in place. “shh, shh— fuck, you’re so good, baby.”
“ohhh- oh fuck, paige—“ the words come out in a mess of noises, as you fling an arm over your face to try and focus on the comforting rub of paige’s thumb, the smell of her cologne, instead of the stretching, hot pressure that’s collected between your legs.
it only takes a couple moments before it doesn’t completely hurt, but the second that it does, you can finally blink your watery eyes open, letting out a soft moan at the furrowed eyebrows on paige’s face, her own lips parted as she carefully gives a shallow thrust into you, the subsequent friction of the dull, now audible buzzing of the vibrator on the other end of the dildo against her clit and it’s obvious.
it’s in the way she grunts, tongue darting out to seek attention to her bottom lip. “s’that feel good?” she’s panting already, and it makes your stomach swirl in arousal, nodding quickly as she gives another slow, but shallow thrust that sends immediate shivers up your spine, a rush of rampant pleasure up your stomach as you let out a groan, “more?”
it doesn’t take long for paige to find a rhythm— surprising considering her dancing abilities— and once she does, you can practically sense the confidence that radiates off of her. it’s in the way she wraps an arm around your thigh to hoist your leg up, higher, higher, until your cunt is on full display, and she’s leaning atop you, pressing wet kisses to your breasts as she drags her hips into you, each push making you both shudder out a moan.
“shit, baby— so fucking— so fucking wet. wan’me to fuck a baby into you, huh?” paige always has a habit of going on these fuck-drunk tangents, ones that usually send you careening over the edge in due time, but this— it makes you mewl into her ear, the thick, heavy weight of the strap punching into you, deeper than you or paige could ever reach, and it makes your hips jerk upwards, wanting more of it, all of it.
for half a second, you hoped, by some weird anatomical technique, she could get you pregnant.
“ohhh— fuck! paige, paige— pleasepleaseplease—“ what you’re begging for, even you can’t decipher, but it’s really just to make sure that she rocks into you like that again.
and she does— again and again, drool collecting in the corner of your mouth from how long your lips have been parted, and paige looks at you, delirious and flushed as she drags her thumb over your mouth, wipes away the spit and reaches between you two.
before you can figure it out, you feel her finger tracing the outside of your stretched cunt, the wetness that’s collected there as she lets out a wanton sigh, something more high pitched than what paige usually grunts out, “stretching you s’good, baby— fucking- take it, jus’ like that— fuck, wanna fuck you stupid, baby.”
it’s almost too much. your head presses hard against the comforter as paige’s hips push flush against your own, the final stab of the length being inside of you makes your head swim, your body acting upon it’s own accord as your thighs, shaking, squeeze around paige’s hips, your stomach flexing and jumping as paige gives up whatever bit of composure or control she has left, before she’s quick to fuck into you without a single strand of resistance.
it’s hot, heady, and the sweat that collects on the surface of your skin is almost like a sense of accomplishment as her face falls into your neck, your thighs pushed impossibly high to give her the best angle, as she ruts into you. the slight curve of the dildo somehow gives a direct angle to your g-spot, and it punches a shout out of you, one that’s followed with a crying whine that even you knew was bound to get you both caught.
“fffuck— shhh- shut the fuck up—“ her mouth is on your neck in an instant, other hand quick to clamp over your mouth, but the friction against paige’s clit has her bottom lip quivering, struggling to close as each of her gravelly, breathy moans launch right into your ear, and it’s clear that she’s being greedy, grinding the strap into your cunt for the effort of chasing her own high, and it’s fucking sexy.
this deep, you can almost feel the fucking vibrator, and it reduces you into nothing— fingers twine into paige’s hair, sweaty and sticky, as she fucks into you with reckless abandon, the bed frame squeaking in protest, your cunt wet enough that you can fucking hear it, can feel it drip onto the bed below, feel it coating the sheets and paige’s thighs and you think she’s about to orgasm with how quick her breath has gotten, how shaky her hips are with each incessant thrust, like an earthquake pulsing through your body and it makes you sob, because it feels so fucking good, and paige is so deep, you can feel her everywhere.
“wanna cum inside of’you— ohmyfuck- please, wanna fuck my babies into you— iloveyou, so, fucking- so fu-ucking sexy, baby, fuck.”
it’s all gibberish really, a promise that makes you turn into a pile of mush, because you can feel your cunt tighten around it— delusionally, you imagine paige can feel it too— because even her declaration of love is enough to send you flying over the edge as your legs tighten around her hips, the vibrator nestled deep against paige’s clit until she’s coming too, and it’s a glorious thing to hear— ripping from her throat in a cacophony of throaty groans and whines that mimic yours, only deeper, grittier.
she thrusts into you, sloppy and out of control until you can feel her release on your cunt, spread against your thighs, the dull vibration now pressing hot and wet against you, so much so that it makes your body flood in aftershock, pleasure wracking through you in earnest as your body twitches and jumps, every embarrassingly high pitched noise ripping from your throat, as paige’s go muddled and unintelligible against your neck.
it’s like a cathartic release of sorts, leaving you feeling boneless and jellied in the wake as you slowly return to your senses, fucked out and exhausted as you try to experimentally move your hips, but the soreness between your legs is almost unfathomable.
“shit—“ you hiss as paige finally lifts her head, her own hand slow to guide the strap from your abused cunt, and it’s clear by, not only the tired, almost loopy smirk on her face, but the redness in her eyes, the wetness coating her lashes, that she’d enjoyed herself as much as you had— and while sex between you had always been mutual, it wasn’t often you got to see her fully release like that.
“was that good, hm? did i do okay?” she’s always quick to look for approval, her hand coming up to brush the tears from your face, to pepper a light array of kisses against your lips, chapped and puffy, as you let out a tired laugh, “fucking duh, that shit was… so hot,” you trace her blonde strands, plastered to her forehead, away from her face, “don’t think i’ve ever heard you sound like that.”
it makes her cheeks red, eyes rolling with a scoff, as she lets out a quiet laugh, already trying to play it off as cocky instead of flushed, “well- yeah, ‘cause, i was watching you take my dick.” you slap her arm weakly with a snort, wincing at her usage of words, “ew, you’re so gross.”
“and you’re so pretty,” she counters, before pressing a quick kiss to your mouth.
you both don’t really try to address the fact that there was probably no way you’d both been quiet enough to not at least alert one of the girls, but you ignore it anyway.
besides, it’s only KK that ends up putting you both in a group message the next morning, sending a string of angry emojis and a text that says, ‘bye. im moving rooms’.
you both laugh, because you know she’s not, and more so, you all three know it wasn’t the first time and definitely not the last.
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m0llygunn · 9 months
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Hello! Can I request oneshot with Eddie and virgin reader?
Something like when they're talking casually and she confesses that she feels so insecure about being virgin at her age (22) when everyone she knows has boyfriends/girlfriends and had first sex a long time ago. But she hasn't even kissed anyone and she doesn't know how it works.
(She has also a big crush on Eddie but she's shy about it)
How do you think Eddie would react?
It's so personal for me but if you're not comfortable with this idea it's okay ☺️
Thank you for your time!
hi! sorry for how long it took! I didn't want to write something too too similar to Eddie's Notes, so it took me a minute to think something up, hope thats okay!
also this is my first request!! thank you! I hope you like it :)
it's not too explicit but 18+ only please!
wc: 2.4k+
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
“How much do you wanna bet they’ll be fucking within the hour?” Eddie whispers, leaning in close enough for you to hear him.
“Huh?” you reply, catching Eddie’s gaze. He nods back to the couple you’ve both been sparring glances at ever since you sat down.
You and Eddie stopped at the diner to get late dinner after hanging out with the group at Steve’s house. He was just going to drive you home, but he insisted he was starving and you both had to stop for food. You’re not complaining, you’ve always had quite the soft spot for Eddie and more time with him is always welcomed.
You both sat at the back of the diner on the same side of the booth as Eddie insisted it was the best spot for people watching. Sitting in the other back corner of the restaurant was some girl you hardly recognized from high school and a guy who you assumed was her date.
To you, it looked innocent. They both sat on the same side of the booth, probably doing the same thing you and Eddie were doing. Their shoulders were just barely touching and they were making quick, shy glances at one another. To you, you thought that maybe it was a first date due to their nervousness, so for Eddie to think they’ll be fucking within the hour… you couldn’t help but look at him in pure confusion. 
“His hand’s been on her thigh the whole night and she’s been slowly inching it up, see,” he explains in a low voice, motioning down to under their table. You spare another glance and just as he said, their hands are just nearing the hem of her skirt. 
“I didn’t notice,” you say quietly, refocusing your attention on your food, picking at your fries.
To you, they looked innocent. You thought their nervousness was because it was a first date. What a stupid thing to think.
“Look, look,” Eddie says excitedly, leaning further into you, laying his arm across the back of the booth. You glance over as the guy's hand fully travels under the girl’s skirt. 
“Eddie, I can't watch that,” you say, turning away out of embarrassment for yourself and the couple.
“What’s wrong? Never fooled around in public before?” he teases, his arm behind you coming forward just enough to nudge your shoulder.
“No,” you say quietly, throwing down the fry you’ve been swirling around on your plate before crossing your arms over your chest. 
“What?” he laughs and you shrug. 
No, you haven’t fooled around in public. You haven’t fooled around, full stop. Not even a kiss. Not even a hand hold. Not in public nor in private. Nothing. 
“You’re telling me you haven’t gone on a date and the guy hasn’t gotten a little handsy with you?” Eddie teases further.
You’d have to go on dates for someone to get handsy with you. You shrug again, just faintly shaking your head. You turn your face away from Eddie only to be met with the sight of the guy's hand all the way up the girl's skirt— something you really don’t want to see. You redirect your gaze forward, having nowhere else to look at this point. 
“I don’t believe you,” he laughs, hand nudging your shoulder again. You shrug again, sighing heavily. 
“Eddie. I don’t go on dates,” you say, flatly. 
“Me neither really. I guess, it’s kind of an old school thing,” he says, taking a sip of his drink. He clearly doesn’t understand what you mean. You brave a glance at Eddie. You like him. You have for a while.
“Eddie, can I tell you something really embarrassing?”
He sets his drink down, and while you go back to avoiding his gaze, you can tell he’s making every attempt to meet yours. You look at him for a split second before looking down at the table once again.
“Yeah, of course,” he says quietly. You can feel his hand grazing your shoulder, fingers just barely brushing over your skin. As nervous and embarrassed as you are to say what you’re about to say, his light, gentle contact is sort of relaxing, soothing in a way. Eddie’s always been kind, you know he won’t be mean about it, that’s just not in his nature, but it’s still something you’re insecure about. 
“I don’t go on dates, or do anything like that,” you say, nodding your head over to the couple. His eyebrows raise before he relaxes into a light laugh, like he expected you to say something different maybe. 
“Okay… not everyone’s into public stuff, it’s fine,” he smiles. His hand settles completely on your shoulder and that gives you the courage to just blurt it all out. 
“I’m a virgin, Eddie,” you say, hushing your voice. 
“Oh?” he says, in a short sort of quiet gasp. If you thought he expected you to say something else earlier, you can tell that he really didn’t expect you to say that.
“Yeah,” you hum, hoping he’ll give you some other reaction other than his blank stare.
“Oh,” he says again, his eyes shifting down to your crossed arms before back up to meet your gaze. You cower under his look, regretting saying anything. 
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. It’s so embarrassing.” You say, shifting in the seat, not sure if you want to get up and leave or just hope that the earth opens up and swallows you whole. Eddie’s hand on your shoulder grows more firm, keeping you still.
“No— no. I’m just... I didn’t know. Is it… like, on purpose?” he asks tentatively, keeping his tone soft.
“No,” you answer, shrinking into yourself as the burning from your cheeks turns into your whole body lighting aflame. 
“Hey, it’s okay,” he says, leaning into you, his hand on your shoulder pulling you in closer to him at the same time. 
The couple draw both yours and Eddie’s attention as the girl giggles loudly. When you look over at them, they’re both quickly shuffling out of their booth. The guy wraps his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a kiss before taking her hand and guiding her out of the restaurant. It makes your stomach sink because that’s exactly what you’ve never had and it’s mocking you right to your face. 
“It’s not okay, Eddie, it’s embarrassing. Like, that—” you say, motioning to the direction that the couple just left in. “That’s what normal people my age do. Everyone’s had relationships and I haven’t done anything,” you say hastily, feeling entirely too fed up with yourself for being in this situation. It’s hard to not be upset with yourself when people around you are constantly reminding you how behind you are, even without them knowing it. 
Eddie squeezes your shoulder lightly. “I think you forget who you’re talking to right now,” he laughs.
“Eddie, you’re not a virgin,” you state.
“No, but I was. For a long time. Nobody was exactly lining up to get with the satanic super senior freak,” he says, adding emphasis to the names he’s been called over the years. You know he’s just saying this stuff to make you feel better about yourself, and it makes you feel worse. He shouldn’t have to put himself down. Eddie’s the best and it’s not fair for him to do that. 
“Yeah, but you’re not a ‘satanic super senior freak’. You’re cool, you’re in a band, you’re attractive. So many people would be lucky to be with you. It's different, you’re hot and funny— and you’re not 22 years old and still a virgin,” you blurt out, squeezing your folded arms over your chest harder. You shift in your seat again, contemplating getting up, but Eddie’s hand on your shoulder pulls you in even closer to him until your shoulder meets the edge of his chest and your hip meets his.
“Hey. It’s okay. I’m not judging you, you’re fine,” he says, softly.
“But—”
“I’m serious. If that experience hasn’t happened yet, it’s no big deal.”
You deflate into yourself, feeling the embarrassment burn hot inside of you. Eddie shifts, facing you but you keep your head down, avoiding his gaze. His free hand landing on your thigh startles you, making you look up at him in surprise. You’re met with a soft smile, like he knew that would get your attention. 
“You know, you’re attractive too. Very pretty. Just because some idiot hasn’t made the moves on you yet, doesn’t mean you aren’t.”
“Don’t say stuff just to be nice,” you mumble, feeling your cheeks heat for an entirely different reason. 
“I’m serious. I wouldn’t lie to you. You’re smart, and funny, and I like being around you,” he says, leaning in even closer, close enough for you to feel his breath on your cheek.
“Eddie, I haven’t even kissed someone before,” you say, turning to him abruptly. You're nearly nose to nose with him, and it makes your heart beat too fast. You pull back a few inches, looking at Eddie but his gaze stays low on your face.
“Is it a bad time for me to say I’ve been dying to kiss you?” he asks, eyes still lingering low, and you suddenly realize it’s your lips he’s focusing on.
“What?” you say, your brows pinching in confusion. 
“I want to kiss you,” he repeats with clarity, eyes meeting yours. You shake your head, surely this is a joke. 
“Stop making fun of me,” you huff, uncrossing your arms. You put your hand over Eddie’s to pry it from your thigh. He let’s go, taking your hand in his instead, making you stop dead in your tracks.
“Why do you think I brought you here? Why do you think we’re sitting in the back of the diner?” he says, raising his brows. “And it’s not just because I wanted to spy on the couple who was practically fucking back here.”
“I don’t know.” 
“Because I’ve been dying to kiss you. It’s awfully hard to get you alone, you know?” he says. He smiles at you softly, squeezing your hand in his. Your stomach flutters. You’ve thought about this moment, wanted it so badly— yet something inside of you still holds you back. 
“I don’t know how,” you say, feeling flustered. He squeezes your hand, dipping his face to meet your gaze.
“It’s easy, just come closer,” he whispers. You do as he says and he hums lowly. His hand on your shoulder moves to the back of your head, keeping you moving into him at a steady pace and he inches forward, meeting you in the middle. 
You let your eyes flutter shut, and you feel his lips on yours, light as a feather. He presses into you more firmly, and when his lips start to move, you freeze up, not knowing what to do. His hand on the back of your head moves to your neck, caressing you softly— like an encouragement. He slows down and you take the leap, following his lead. You match his pace, moving your lips like he does, copying the movements, and he hums again— like a praise this time. 
“Easy, isn’t it?” he says, just barely moving away from your lips. 
“Yeah,” you agree breathily, feeling like your whole body is tingling. 
“You’re a natural,” he says. You feel his breath against your lips and you don’t know if you want to run away or lean in for more. He doesn’t give you the chance either way before he’s tugging you closer to his chest so your head rests on his shoulder. His hand guides you to look up at him.
“I like you for you. Not the experiences you have or haven’t had,” he says, meeting your gaze. His words make your stomach explode with butterflies but your head stops you from letting yourself believe his sentiment. 
“Don’t you think it’s embarrassing though?” you ask.
“Would you think it was embarrassing if it were the other way around? Would you like me less if I were a virgin?”
“No,” you reply honestly. You would never like Eddie less for something superficial like that. The way he looks at you so softly is a testament to how good he is, you wouldn’t like him any less even if he were a virgin. 
“Things happen at different times for people. I’m sure you’ve done all kinds of things I haven’t done before… like graduating on your first try,” he says with a smirk.
“Don’t put yourself down just to make me feel better,” you say, leaning further up towards him, squinting your eyes into a glare so he knows you’re serious. 
He laughs at you, nodding his head gently before continuing.“I’m just saying, sex isn’t the end all be all of who you are. Not to sound preachy, but it’s only embarrassing if you let it embarrass you— and it shouldn’t. At all. Ever,” he emphasizes, rubbing his hand against your side. His lips quirk up into a smirk—one you’re familiar with and know that it typically means he’s up to no good. “And if you ever want to not be a virgin, I’m right here,” he says, digging his fingers into your ribs, making you laugh. 
It was a joke— him being there if you ever wanted to not be a virgin, but then it was the truth. When Eddie drove you home, he helped you brush up on your kissing skills. Right before you went inside for the night, he asked you on a date. 
While it didn’t happen that night or even that week, it did happen eventually. And when it did, Eddie was slow with you. He was patient with you, and made sure you were comfortable the whole time. You’ve always heard the romanticized versions of people losing their virginity, and how it was so perfect, and this or that, but with Eddie, it really was. He was someone you cared for and trusted and that’s what made it perfect. 
He quelled all your negative thoughts. He made sure you knew that your sex life didn’t dictate who you were. What experiences you had or didn’t have doesn’t make you or break you.
He took you on a date, he kissed you, held your hand, held you. He took you on more dates, called you his, did all the things you dreamt about— the things you were worried you would never get. 
Everything you hadn’t done, you did with Eddie. For a long time you thought you were missing out. In some ways, maybe you were, but if you had to choose, you’d do it all over again exactly the same, as long as you’d get to do it all over again with Eddie. 
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
thank you again!
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hawkinsbnbg · 1 month
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Steve was a ghost who haunted his best friend.
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Steve had died in that interrogation room under Starcourt and now, he was stuck haunting Robin Buckley who might as well be his shortest heartbreak and long-lost twin.
The problem was she couldn't see or touch him.
No, she could hear him just fine, but physical contact was just impossible.
Steve, however, didn't care much so long as he had someone there to listen to his daily monologues. It was fun.
They bickered most of the time and while Robin always seemed sad that she couldn't hug him whenever he told her about his parents or how lonely he used to be before her, Steve was just happy with what he got.
Because even in death, he wasn't alone, and that was enough of a gift to him.
Then, the day his funeral was held, Steve was thankful that he had convinced Robin to attend considering it was how he reunited with the kids.
They all saw him.
A thing that Steve would never take for granted.
Robin didn't know what to do when they flocked around her and bombarded her with question after question, demanding to know why she was the one who got the privilege of being haunted by Steve.
"A privilege?" Robin burst into a laugh, giving them a ridiculous look.
"Of course, to think you've been haunted and actually having real conversations with a ghost every day is a revolutionary step into the spiritual science field," Dustin narrowed his eyes. "And I am very disappointed in you, Ms. Robin Buckley, for not telling me right away!"
"Just say you're jealous that Steve doesn't haunt you." Max rolled her eyes.
"You say it as if you're not jealous yourself!" Mike scowled at her.
"No, I'm not, you delusional nerd!" Max scowled back.
"Hey!"
"C'mon guys, don't fight," Lucas frowned and sighed in exasperation.
Noticing the odd looks from other people at the cemetery, Robin herded the kids into Steve's car that he had given her as a keepsake.
Once they were safely away from prying eyes, Robin clapped her hands to gather everyone's attention.
"Children!" She then continued under their curious gazes. "Steve-o here said he really appreciates that you munchkins care so much about him. But sadly, he can't leave my side. Like literally can't so if any of you want to see him, you can always seek me out whenever you see fit."
"Why are you saying all of this?" Mike squinted at her.
"Because Steve can't talk to us, obviously." Dustin responded haughtily, earning an eye roll from the other boy.
"Bingo!" Robin did a fist bump with Dustin.
Then, she held up a finger at them. "And before you ask, I can't see him. Or touch him."
She watched the kids look at the passenger seat before nodding at her.
It must be Steve who confirmed the truth, she thought.
As they went back to discussing Steve's incorporeal state, Robin had a feeling that she had unknowingly adopted a gaggle of troublesome ducklings who were going to give her grey hair very very soon.
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"C'mon Robbie, it's a Halloween party," Steve begged. "Let's go have some fun! Don't your heart ache to watch your bestest friend rotting in sorrow while eating pumpkins?"
"First of all, I've never ever met anyone who uses 'heart' and 'ache' like that," Robin blew at her freshly painted nails.
"Well, now I'm your first. Didn't people always say special always come late?"
"I don't even want to correct you on all of that," Robin huffed quietly at Steve's goofy chuckle. "And no, Dingus, you don't eat pumpkins. Or if you do, I don't care."
"Please, Robbie, I just wanna have fun," Steve sighed dolefully. "It's been a long time ago since I went to a party." He sighed again and even sniffled a little.
When Robin groaned, a big grin stretched on his lips.
"Just this time." She narrowed her eyes at him, or precisely speaking, at the spot where she assumed he was sitting.
Sometimes, when she made a wrong guess, Steve would just move over to where her gaze stopped and continue talking her ears off.
"I promise you're gonna have so much fun, Robbie." Steve ruffled her hair even if his hand always passed right through her. It was still one of his hard-to-get-rid-of habits anyway.
By the time they arrived, the party was already full-blown and swarmed with people.
As Robin struggled her way through the crowd, Steve just walked beside her with barely any difficulties.
He bet she would curse him so much if she saw how comfortable he looked right now.
But then, his little moment of joy was cut short when he bumped into someone whose lips literally knocked against his.
As cliché as it might sound, he certainly felt the electricity running through his body from that single accidental kiss.
And belatedly, a realization dawned on him.
He had bumped right into someone.
He, a ghost, had bodily collided with a living human.
Shocked, Steve stepped back and was at a loss for what to do next.
Then, a shaky voice shook him out of his trance.
"Harrington?"
Staring into those scared Bambi's eyes, Steve clenched his jaw and forced himself to not panic.
"Munson."
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ew-selfish-art · 7 months
Text
DP x DC AU: Letters and Paper goods are easy to store, and therefore, easy to hide. Danny has drama to monger though.
Tim Drake becomes a ward of Bruce Wayne at the same time the Drake Corporation is crumbling, and his father's health is declining. Dana, his father's physical therapist turned new wife, isn't optimistic these days, and Tim can read the writing on the wall.
Times have changed and Bruce and Dick are treating him with kid gloves. Jason Todd is alive again, been there suffered that. Young Just-Us has proven yet again to be his true family... But Bruce 'welcomes' him home the second the fake uncle is sniffed out.
So, Tim rationalizes, If Drake Corp is going down, then so shall the reason he spent his childhood abandoned. The many, many archeology digs his parents left him for over the years and their many, many stolen historical pieces. Tim is ready and able to get rid of them all.
He first returns the artifacts that have obvious origins to the people with whom they belong. Then it starts to get a little hazy as to where each item stolen is from. The paper goods are the hardest to place.
Years later, Tim has almost completely emptied his parent's old home of their stolen goods. By now, he runs a fortune 500 company and is working as Red Robin. Going through the last of the archives means going through the very last objects his parents ever preferred over his company, and he can't wait to be rid of them.
A glowing green envelope however... this one he feels compelled to keep. He hadn't known it back when he started this project- but somehow his Parents had found objects drenched in the essence of the Lazarus Pits. And it wasn't just one letter, it was dozens and dozens.
Tim Drake knew it would be risky to move them, but he needed to get these letters to an ex-league member to understand what the language of the dead was trying to proclaim.
_____
Danny hates a fetch quest but apparently Ghost Writer is having a bad day. It starts with Danny running by the guys library to have a chat when all of a sudden, the question of certain... ghost relations... came up. Danny is always more than thrilled to hear about how the various ancient-as-in-old ghosts interacted with the Ancients-as-in-yikes ghosts.
Ghost Writer finally admitted to the monarch in training that if he wanted to know so badly, that he could track down Clockworks old letters. They'd been scattered well before Ghost Writer could properly work on the ghost archives (read: was still alive), and it wasn't until he'd long worked on the library that such affairs were noted as missing.
The potential for gossip was just too good! A call home to Sam, Tuck and Jazz to let them know he was on an adventure, and then Danny flew off with little more than some hints by GW and an annoyed nod of cryptic agreement by CW.
Danny goes about wondering Gotham as himself, not yet seeing the need to be Phantom, when he runs into the very guy he was looking for.
"Hey- you don't happen to have a shit ton of letters written in the language of the dead do you?" Danny smiles as innocently as possible as he watches all seven stages of grief play out on the guy's face. Then something changes and Danny can tell that this guy is like, scary competent.
"I do, however, I was double crossed and a shit ton of assassins are on their way to try and take them."
"Uh... Bummer for them I guess? I'll just take them and go- I don't even really need to keep them if you want em back-"
"Assassins. They won't exactly leave empty handed."
"Huh. Well... Wanna come with? These are supposed to have some pretty juicy drama in them." Danny awkwardly places a hand on the back of his neck.
A knife being thrown in their direction was enough to get this guy to make a decision.
"Let's go spill some tea then."
Danny grins as he pulls the guy through a rapidly drawn portal, ignoring the wide eyes he makes. Turns out his name is Tim, and walking him through afterlife drama is the best- how does he know so many dead assassins??? One of these letters is about a guy who took Tim's spleen??
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strawberrysturniolo · 5 months
Text
gaming // bf!chris
summary: you’re desperate for attention while your bf is playing a game with his brothers on twitch, and you distract him with a blowjob
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My day has been filled with nothing but phone calls and stress. Work felt never ending, and when I finally clocked out, I had endless calls to make. 
I could feel my anxiety dripping out of my skin with every bead of sweat that fell. I hate letting things have this power over me, but how can I stop it? At some point it just builds up and I have no choice but to let it take control. Right now, I’m fully checked out of everything for the day. 
For some sort of break from life, I use my spare key to enter my boyfriend’s house. I would have given him a heads up and let him know I was on my way, but my phone was occupied with everyone else in the world, when all I wanted was to vent to Chris about my day so he could cheer me up like he always is able to. 
I lock the door behind me and head to his room, knocking once on the door before letting myself in. He pokes his head out, his eyes wide in surprise, and I notice when I hear Matt and Nick talking to him through his headset that he had no idea who could have been coming into his room.
“Oh, hi,” he says, finally smiling and relaxing a bit when he realizes it’s me. 
I toss my bag on his bed and kick my shoes off. “Hi.”
He nods his head to the monitor in front of him, and it’s at this moment that I realize that not only is he playing a game with his brothers, but he’s also streaming it in front of god knows how many viewers, who can all see me now. It’s a miracle I stopped myself from saying something vulgar before everyone heard. 
I whisper a “Sorry” before stepping out of the frame. 
When my back is turned, I hear Matt and Nick through the stream going, “Oooooo”
“Guys, shut up,” Chris says. 
“Who could that be?” Matt asks although he knows it’s me. They’re just trying to tease Chris for my unannounced appearance during the stream.
He turns around in his chair, moving his headphones so one ear is out. “You wanna say hi?”
I let out an annoyed sigh, already wishing I could take it back, and this only grows when Chris’ face falls, thinking I was reacting that way to him. That’s not the case at all, I’m just mentally and physically tired, and the last thing I want is to be interrogated with questions in the stream’s chat, or feel like I need to entertain people. 
“I’m not really in the mood,” I finally say.
Chris gives me a soft smile, noticing something is wrong. He always does. “That’s okay.”
He turns back to the screen, and it’s at this moment that I realize I’ve probably made myself look like a complete cunt in front of tens of thousands of people.. 
I walk behind Chris, bending over his shoulder a bit so I can see the screen better, scanning my eyes over the chat. “Hi guys, I’m sorry if I sound bitchy. I just had a bad day.”
Chris looks over to me and asks, “Wanna get ice cream later and we can chill?”
As silly as it sounds, one thing me and Chris have to do when we have a bad day is treat the other person to ice cream. It’s such a simple and somewhat foolish activity, but that’s the best part. When we have our days of stress, anxiety, and misery, we always make an effort to get ice cream to forget about our issues. 
“When is later?” I ask, getting excited for our plan. 
“In like an hour,” he guesses. “We’re still streaming.”
I nod, planning to designate this next hour to getting myself unready and trying to relax for the first time today.
As I undress myself, I can feel my boyfriend staring at me. I make sure I’m far from the camera, but my first thought when he stares is that I have just flashed our audience. 
I turn back around to double check, only finding my boyfriend with red cheeks and a stupid smile. He quickly turns back around. 
With my shirt and pants off, I purposefully let myself take more time to dress in something comfier, teasing him in front of a crowd of people online. I peek over my shoulder at him, finding him shifting uncomfortably. It’s relentless, like he can’t stop himself even if he tried. 
He has a full shot of my ass when I bend over and dig for a pair of Chris’ sweatpants, finally opting for his blue Fresh Love set. 
“Chris! Come on!” Nick shouts at him, noticing how distracted his brother has become. 
“Sorry, I’m sorry,” he mutters before the sound of him clicking on his controller. 
I laugh to myself at the idea of him becoming distracted, a sense of confidence growing inside of me knowing that I was the one who made him that way. 
I stand next to him, staying out of the frame of the camera. I smirk at his boner, which only grows by the second. It’s prominent through his gray sweatpants. 
He notices me staring. “Stop it,” he warns through gritted teeth. 
I lower myself to the floor next to his gaming chair. My fingers take over, tracing over his thighs. He sucks in a sharp breath that is luckily mistaken as a missed shot on his opponent. 
He quickly reaches up to his headset, muting his microphone before he says, “You better be careful,” in his normal volume. 
“You better be careful,” I tell him. “You’re the one being watched by…” I peek at the monitor. “Seventy-five thousand people.” 
His eyes dart between the screen and me. “Are you just going to tease me and try to embarrass me in front of everyone.”
I pout a bit, insulted that he would think so lowly of me. “Of course not,” I assure him. “I’m going to suck you off, and you’re gonna behave and make sure no one knows.” 
He licks his lips, trying to act nonchalant. He does nothing but nod and sink a bit in his chair, making sure I will be completely out of the frame below him. 
He returns to his game, spitting out insults at his brothers and trying to seem invested in their game as they continue to play. 
My hands tug at the string of his sweatpants, loosening them before tugging them down to his thighs. He lifts his hips a little bit, helping me out without making anything too obvious. 
His black briefs hug his dick. His erection is so clear and tight against his underwear, I can see him leaking out onto the fabric. My pussy clenches at the sight. 
I trace my finger over where I know his tip is, following the pathetic splotch of pre-cum. His hips shift, and I squeeze his thigh as a warning. 
I press soft kisses to his clothed dick, peering up at him and watching his expressions change, trying not to laugh at his attempts of playing off his outward reactions to my touch to him as reactions to the game. 
I pull the last layer of clothing out of the way watching his cock smack his stomach before his pre-cum continues to leak, now onto the trail of hair between his belly button and his pelvis. 
I wrap a hand around him, stroking him lightly, spitting down on his tip and rubbing it on him through every stroke. His stomach starts to heave, already desperate for more. 
I poke my tongue out, licking over his slit and tasting what he’s been leaking for minutes now. I continue to spit on his dick, making a mess on him before taking him in my mouth. He rolls his lips into his mouth, trying his hardest not to make a sound. 
I swirl my tongue around his tip through every motion, taking him deeper over time. The sight of him struggling above me is enough to make me wet. 
“Alright we’re gonna take a little five minute break,” Nick’s voice echos. My eyes widen, and I find myself pulling Chris out of my mouth at the sound. “We’ll be back so just sit tight.” 
Chris quickly turns off his camera, pressing the mute button on his headset and tosses it onto the bed behind him. 
Then, his hands find my face, holding my cheeks as I take him into my mouth again. “Fuck, baby that’s so good.” His face contorts now that he can take advantage of the camera being off. “Oh my god, just like that.”
I continue to bob my head on him, his tip reaching the back of my throat each time. His stomach heaves harder now, his hand raking through my hair before thrusting himself deeper. 
My eyes widen before gaining a comfortable rhythm, drool beginning to drip down my chin as my mouth hangs open, getting sloppily fucked by my needy boyfriend. 
“I’m gonna cum,” he whines. “Fuck– Please don’t stop. Please, baby.” 
I nod, not wanting to take my mouth off of him and risk us losing time before the stream starts again. I lower a hand to his balls, rubbing and squeezing them until I can feel them tighten in my hold. His moans become strained, trying not to let his brothers hear us. Any other time he really wouldn’t care, but I know he’s worried about getting teased in front of fans, and the last thing we want is attention being brought to what we’re clearly doing. 
His thrusts become erratic, my eyes watering as he fucks my throat. I have to mentally encourage myself to keep going. 
“Ohhhhh, shit,” he groans. His eyes are screwed shut, opening when he feels my lips close around his cock as he releases his cum into my mouth. He watches me take it, his jaw slack. 
I pull his underwear up delicately, knowing he’s overly sensitive at the moment, before doing the same with his underwear.
I press a soft kiss to his lips, earning a pleased hum from him in response. 
“You look so pretty in my set,” he compliments me, his voice low as he presses a kiss to my shoulder. 
“Compliments to the CEO,” I grin.
He smiles back at me, hugging me tightly as we bask in the last few moments of silence before he jumps back on the game. 
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freedomfireflies · 8 months
Text
SnakeBite*
Summary: The third part to 404*
The one where Harry is good for more than a good time.
But he's still good at that, too.
Word Count: 5.2k
*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*
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“Oh, come on…please. Please, don’t do this. Not right now. Not today…please.”
With a deep breath, you stick the key back into the ignition and try again. Waiting anxiously for the sound of the engine roaring to life. A sound you desperately need to hear more than anything.
Instead, all that follows is that familiar clunking of something heavy before there’s a rather shrill buzzing you can’t quite place.
Fuck.
Exasperated and woefully defeated, you take the key back out, groan, and drop your forehead onto the steering wheel. “This is not happening.”
Truth be told, you should have seen this coming. This isn’t the first time your poor car has made this unsettling noise, and perhaps it’s your fault for ignoring it for so long. You hadn’t meant to; you just didn’t realize it was this bad. Or that your car was this old.
Now, you’re trapped in the Juno Incorporated parking lot on a Friday afternoon with no way of getting you or your car home.
“The fuck is wrong with you?”
You don’t even bother to lift your head as Harry’s voice carries in through the window. “Nothing. Go away.”
You hear the sound of his boots scraping across the concrete before they stop, and you feel a large shadow fall over your side of the vehicle. “Can I assume that god awful noise came from this hunk of shit you call a car?”
Leaning back, you huff as you look over. “I’m sorry, do you want something?”
Harry smirks, arms crossing over his chest as he juts his chin toward you. “Pop the hood, let me see.”
“Yeah…no.”
“Come on,” he pushes, a few curls dancing across his forehead from a soft gust of wind. You realize he looks different outside of the lab. Normal, almost. It’s unsettling. “You wanna leave, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but knowing you, you’d probably cut my breaks.”
“If I were gonna take you out, I would have done it by now.”
“Oh. Wow. You’re really instilling me with a lot of confidence, thanks.”
He steps back and motions toward the front of your car. “Fucking relax, Tinkerbell, and just pop the goddamn hood.”
Regretfully, you do as instructed before leaning out the open window to watch him walk toward your engine. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”
“I know enough,” he replies, using the back of his hand to push on his glasses before bending down.
“That…is not helpful.”
“Well, I’m your only shot. Everyone else is gone.”
“I can call a repair guy.”
He shakes his head once. “Won’t get here in time. It’s rush hour on a Friday. You’ll be here for hours if they even show at all. And chances are, they won’t be able to schedule you in till next week. So, unless you’re planning to sleep here, in your car, can you please shut the fuck up, and let me focus?”
You feel your expression morph into a scowl as you unclick your seatbelt and step out. “I’d rather sleep in my car than trust you to fix my engine.”
You notice his eyes roll, but he’s amused. “Well, I can’t fix it. Not here. I think it’s your spark plugs. They tend to wear out faster in older cars. You’ll probably have to get them replaced.”
Scurrying to stand beside him, you glance over your engine and the internal workings of the car with a heavy sigh.
“You’re kidding,” you mumble beneath another strained groan. “And let me guess, it’s gonna be expensive.”
“Probably,” he agrees, glancing over. “But it’s not like you can’t afford it.”
Your eyes narrow. “I know I can afford it, I just don’t like dropping thousands of dollars on something so dumb.”
“Spark plugs aren’t dumb,” he retorts while reaching for your hood to slam it shut. “You need them to fucking drive.”
“Yeah, but having to pay for a rental car, manual labor, and a tow truck is dumb,” you point out. “And this is the last thing I need right now.”
His eyebrow lifts but he doesn’t ask for elaboration. Instead, he begins to stride across the lot toward a dark, black Harley, leaving you and your crisis behind.
In turn, you reach for your cellphone to look up local tow trucks and mechanics that might be able to help you out.
To your dismay, most shops are already closed for the weekend, except for one. And after a very lengthy and frustrated discussion, you learn that they won’t be able to come by until much later tonight. Which means that all your hopes of having a nice, relaxing evening are for naught. 
Once again defeated, you slump back against the side of your car and drop your head. “Well…great.”
Harry’s smirk returns as he glances over and straddles his bike. “What?”
“I’m stuck here until midnight,” you mumble, running a palm down the side of your cheek. “You were right, everyone is booked.”
“Shit,” is about all he offers while pulling his helmet over his head. “That sucks.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Welcome.” He revs the engine, and just like that, the bike roars to life. The loud and somewhat startling sound echoing across the parking lot as you flinch.. “So, what’s the plan, Princess? You gonna call an Uber and come back later?”
“I can’t,” you shout over the noise. “I have to be here in case they come early, or they’ll leave.”
Through the open visor, you see him frown. “Ah.”
“Yeah.”
He studies you for a moment more, and you feel your skin grow warm under such a scrutinous gaze. Like he’s looking for something written between the lines of your face. “Well…make sure you lock your doors.”
“No shit.”
He smiles again before flipping the visor shut and steadying the bike with his leg. You stand back, ready to watch him speed out of the lot and onto the street, but to your surprise…he simply sits there.
In fact, a good sixty seconds pass before he suddenly slips the helmet off his head, sighs, and thrusts it toward you. “Get on.”
You blink. “What?”
“Get on the fucking bike, Tink,” he repeats. “I know a bar we can hang out in till they get here.”
“I…I just told you, I can’t leave—”
“You can see the parking lot from inside,” he interrupts. “If they show, we can just run back over.”
You step closer, drawn to his proposition, although still wildly confused. “Uh…okay. Why, though? I’m fine to just wait here.”
He looks at you, the grassy green behind his glasses somehow softer in this natural lighting. “S’not safe,” he says simply, shrugging one shoulder up. “Be better to wait somewhere public, and I don’t really want your death on my conscience.”
 And you aren’t exactly sure what to say. Because you think this may be the nicest thing he’s ever done for you – even if it’s still a little odd – and you don’t want to spook him by doing the wrong thing.
But as you debate a response, he shakes the helmet at you again, rather aggressively. “Tink, get on the goddamn bike, please. I’m wasting gas here.”
With a huff, you snatch it from his hand and join him on the Harley. The helmet slips on rather easily, and once you’re sure it’s snug and secure, your eyes trail down his back, unsure of how to proceed. 
You don’t exactly want to…hold him. Or touch him or straddle him. At least, not outside of the way you do in secret. In broad daylight. Where people could see.
In fact, you already feel as though you’re grinding against his ass from how small this goddamn seat is. Almost too close for comfort as you catch a subtle trace of his cologne and feel the warmth from his body.
But motorcycles don’t exactly come with seatbelts, and if he were to take a sharp corner, you might end up pancaked on the cement.
“Tinkerbell,” you suddenly hear him call over his shoulder, voice raised to carry over the growl of the engine. “Just fucking grab me, it’s fine.”
You glare at his curls, despite knowing he can’t see you. “I’m good.”
He snorts again before he’s suddenly reaching back, grabbing onto your wrists, and hoisting your arms around his middle.
You’re tugged forward, your chest pressing to his spine rather forcefully as he glances back.
“Pussy,” he murmurs, releasing the clutch until the bike jolts forward and takes off through the parking lot.
With a rather shrill squeal, you tighten your hold on his broad frame, and bury yourself between his shoulder blades. The sensation is exhilarating and frightening all in the same moment. The rush of wind, adrenaline, and the way he leans around the corner before taking off down the street.
You think you feel his chest vibrate with laughter, perhaps from the way your nails are scraping down his shirt. And despite your increasing terror, you find that you feel oddly…safe with him at the handles.
Not even two minutes later, he’s pulling into another parking spot on the other side of the street, right in front of the aforementioned bar. It’s a bar you recognize, one that a few of your other coworkers often frequent from time to time.
In fact, this is the exact same bar you and Harry first hooked up in all those months ago.
The memory makes you smile.
“What?” Harry asks as swings his leg over the side and stands up. “Why are you grinning like that?”
You quickly wipe the smirk from your face while wrestling the helmet off to hand back. “Like what? I’m just smiling, calm down.”
“I don’t like when you smile. It freaks me out.”
“You’re really rude, you know that?”
“What? I’m just being honest. You have a lot of teeth. It’s weird.”
You glower at him, swatting his chest as you brush by. “Bite me, Harold.”
“With what? Your teeth?”
You feign a snubbed gasp – to which he chuckles – before striding into the bar, leaving him to follow behind.
The large room is loud and crowded with people, the smell of alcohol and bad decisions clinging to the air. You make a beeline for the counter, exhausted and overworked and already annoyed by Harry’s future comments before he can even make them.
Like—
“Really? An appletini?” 
With a deep breath, you look over while the bartender turns around to begin prepping your drink. “Yes, really. I like apples. And it’s delicious. And the color is fun.”
He rests an arm on the edge of the marble bar and leans in. “How incredibly boring of you.”
Once again, your expression falls flat. “Are you gonna be this fucking annoying the whole time? Because I’d rather wait by my car and get murdered.”
“I make no promises.”
“Clearly. And let me guess, you’re gonna order something cool and manly like a scotch on the rocks.”
Harry’s eyebrow quirks up before he smugly turns toward the bartender and calls, “I’ll have a SnakeBite.”
You can actually feel your eyes roll all the way into the back of your head. “God, you’re fucking pretentious.”
“Thank you,” he says with a smile, and you grit your teeth. “Will you relax? I haven’t even had a drink yet and you’re killing my buzz.”
“I’m not killing anything, I just can’t stand you.”
“No? Ouch. I thought we were friends.”
The sarcasm is evident, but you huff, nevertheless. “For the love of god, shut up.”
“What?” He nods his chin at you. “S’just a drink, don’t be so sensitive.”
“I’m sensitive because you’re annoying.”
“No, you’re sensitive because you’re wound up,” he retorts, eyeing you closely. It makes your skin crawl. “When’s the last time you got off, Tink?”
The inquiry makes you step back, almost as though trying to avoid his judgment. “None of your business.”
“So…couple weeks ago? In the closet, with me?” He clicks his tongue in disappointment. “That’s a long fucking time, Princess. No wonder you’re so uptight.”
Your mouth drops open, ready to scoff your resentment and perhaps a quippy remark before he suddenly steps forward and lowers his voice.
“Bet it’s achy, huh?” he coos, and the slight air condescension and sympathy makes your head spin. “Bet you hump your little pillow every night trying to get it done, yeah? But it never works, does it?”
Stunned and left without much remark, your lashes flutter.
He moves closer. “See, if we were friends…I’d offer to take you into the bathroom and help you out. But since you think you can do better…go ahead.”
He leans back while you gape at him. “I’m sorry…go ahead and do what?”
“Find someone,” he answers, glancing around the packed bar. “Take ‘em into the bathroom and let them bend you over the sink.”
“You can’t be serious—”
“Why not?” His eyebrow raises. “That’s the whole reason people come to bars. To get drunk and fuck.”
“Well…that’s not why I’m here.”
“It could be.”
“Harry…no—”
“Why? Seriously, why not? You need it.”
“I don’t…you’re so fucking rude, I don’t need to get off—”
“Coming is good for your health. And for your unfavorable attitude—”
“Oh, you are so fucking—”
“Rude? Annoying? Doesn’t make me any less right.”
You clamp your mouth shut and step closer, letting your gaze travel the expanse of his face. “Come on, Harry,” you murmur softly – salaciously – as his breath seems to catch. “Do you really think…you could watch me with some other guy?”
His expression twists, his mouth already forming around something else snappy and crude.
But it seems to get stuck on his tongue when you suddenly reach out and trail your fingers down his chest. Moving in until there’s only a single breath between you.
“Do you really think…you could watch me touch them?” you whisper, glancing down to your hand as it grazes over his pec. “Or know that they had me dripping down their cock…the way I always drip for you?”
He wants to fight you. Wants to snort and look away.
But he doesn’t. He can’t. He’s mesmerized by the power you so easily stole from him. Undone by the sound of your voice taunting him with an idea he can’t seem to stomach.
“Wanna know I’m whimpering their name the way I always whimper yours?” you continue, smoothing your other palm up the back of his neck. Squeezing just hard enough to make him straighten up. “Wanna see the marks on my throat from where they held me—”
“Easy,” he warns lowly, reaching up to snatch your wrist. But he doesn’t move you. “Not here—”
“Why?” You push up onto your tiptoes and let your lips ghost over his. “Who’s gonna see, hm? Who’s gonna care?”
His lashes flutter, eyes traveling down to your mouth. “Are you this desperate for it, Princess? Wanna fuck me right here in the middle of the bar? Make them watch?”
You smile, head tilting until the tip of your nose dances across his cheek. “Maybe,” you nearly purr. “Bet you like to be watched. You always like watching me.”
And maybe he knows you’re merely playing a game. Teasing him just to throw him off track and test his patience.
But he plays along, eager to see where it might lead. “Can’t help it,” he replies calmly, smirking himself. “Y’just always look so pretty when you’re three fingers deep in your cunt.”
“Yeah?” Your nails scratch at the soft curls near the nape of his neck. “Funny how I can make myself squirt better than you can.”
He exhales a rather sadistic chuckle while his arm reaches to loop around your waist, pulling your chest flush with his. “I wasn’t trying to make you squirt.”
“No?”
His head shakes once. “No. Trust me, Tink. If I wanted to…I would.”
“Then maybe you should.”
His lips part just enough to tease you with a taste. “Maybe I will.”
“Yeah? Right here? In front of everybody?”
Another grin. “I could. Be so fucking easy, too. Bend you over the bar, pull your soaked little panties down…spread you open so they can see how much of a dirty little cumslut you are.”
And perhaps this started as a ruse, but just the thought and the tantalizing way he speaks breeds a new inspiration.
“Cause you are, aren’t you?” he asks quietly, large hand pressing hard against your spine. “My dirty, fucking Princess? Get all wet and weepy from just a couple words?”
You swallow a whimper trying desperately to come free.
“Should I check?” he whispers, now subtly moving you over until your back meets the counter. “Hm? See if you’re as wound up as I think you are?”
You rifle through your list of responses but find that you have none to offer as his fingers delicately begin to trace the edge of your jeans. Provoking you further.
You reckon you should probably stop him. Point out what an idiotic idea this is and remind him that he’s still very much in public, surrounded by people.
But his body blocks you from most of the crowd, and nobody else is close enough to notice. And you suppose that even if they did look over, they wouldn’t exactly be able to see or understand.
His eyes flick to yours, looking for hesitation. But when he finds none, the corner of his mouth twitches up into a pleased smile.
“Dirty Princess,” he teases, sliding his hand into your pants as subtly as he can while you quickly glance around for prying eyes. “That’s right, Tink. Look at them.”
 The feel of his cold fingers against your warm skin is like ecstasy, sending a rush of adrenaline straight down to your toes.
You gasp quietly to mask a whine, vision going hazy as you watch him study you. 
“Oh, sweetie,” he tsks, smoothing his touch through your folds. Spreading and stroking as you reel. “Poor fucking thing. Did’ya get yourself all wet for me?”
“No,” you manage to reply, heart hammering against your rib cage when he smirks. “I was watching TikTok’s of Andrew Garfield earlier. This is for him.”
“Ah,” he hums, but he’s wildly amused, hand still cupping you gently before he swiftly pulls out and leaves you to wilt. “Well, in that case…”
He steps away, fingers tucked between his lips as he pretends to turn around.
However, before he can get far, you manage to capture a fistful of his shirt and yank him back to you. 
And you kiss him. Without reluctance or fear. You kiss him, and you sigh against his mouth, and swallow his surprised but greedy moan.
His hands are on your hips, squeezing and pulling, desperate to tug you further into his frame. 
You go willingly, becoming pliable in his hands. A few people cheer from beside you, raising their glasses and whistling like drunken animals. 
But it makes you both smile, suddenly unencumbered by the ideas of what people might think or who might see.
And it’s strange to feel so at peace in his arms. Unnatural almost to find relief in his lips or safety in his presence. Because this is still the same Harry that would let you drown before he jumped in after you. That would rather tell you off than tell you he likes you – even as an acquaintance. 
You’re not enemies, per se. You imagine you’re both too old for such childish rivalries. But he’s cruel and rude and blunt. His ego rivals the size of the moon, and his lack of care and inhibitions is proof that he could never be who you’d need him to be.
But that’s okay, you realize. You find serenity in the sadistic, strange behavior. Because it means you don’t have to commit to giving him anything more than what he deserves.
His tongue leaves a quick lick to yours before he pulls back and studies you from behind the dark frames of his glasses. “I need to fuck you.”
And you almost laugh at the frank way he speaks. “Yeah?”
“Yes.” His palm slides over the curve of your ass, squeezing it one, twice, three times. “Meet me in the bathroom.”
“Ew, no. I’m not fucking you in a crusty ass bathroom in a sketchy bar,” you retaliate with a scrunch of your nose. “Pick somewhere else.”
“There isn’t anywhere else,” he huffs. “Unless you really do want me to fuck right here in front of everybody.”
“That’s not funny.”
“M’not trying to be funny. I’m trying to fuck you.”
“Well…try harder.”
His eyes narrow. “Fine, you wanna fuck me on my bike?”
You blink. “Okay, that’s really not funny.”
“What?” He’s grinning again, and you hate the way his dimples pop out. Hate how charming they make him look. “Come on, I ride the bike, you ride me.”
You snort as you turn around to take a sip of your drink. “I’d rather get herpes.”
“Wow. Classy. Real fucking classy—”
“Admit it, you’ve had it before—”
“Oh, fuck you—”
“Well, you can’t. Remember?”
He scoffs. “Then where the fuck do you want to go?”
“I don’t know. Literally anywhere else?”
“Well, I’m not taking you back to mine.”
“No? You don’t want me to see the bridge you live under?”
“Troll jokes. Funny.”
“Thank you, I thought so. It’s very fitting.”
His expression falls flat before he sighs and steps closer again. “Meet me in the fucking bathroom,” he repeats quietly, “and let me fuck you. Let me make it better.”
You want to remind him – again – that a dirty bathroom in a crowded bar isn’t exactly the best place. You’d never get a moment of privacy, and the position would most likely be wildly uncomfortable.
But suddenly, none of your reasons seem to matter. Because it hurts to be away from him. Actually aches between your thighs, forcing you to swallow thickly.
So, instead of responding with an actual answer, you simply take his hand, and drag him through the crowd.
You catch his smug smile – and resist the urge to slap the glasses off his face – before yanking him into the hall and toward the bathroom.
You both stumble through the door, already back on each other’s lips. Kissing, and groping, and groaning as you work to get the lock flipped.
You pause for only a moment to make sure the single stall restroom is in fact empty while Harry uses this as encouragement to begin nipping down the side of your neck. 
Your nails scratch down his scalp and he moans against the heat of your skin, exhaling his relief and lust all in the same breath.
His touch is firm – pointed and almost painful – as he pushes you back toward the wall. You gasp when you meet the cold, hard cement, lashes fluttering from the force and the sound of his belt coming undone.
He nods his chin at you, entertained by your fascination. “Come on, Princess. You’ve seen my cock before.”
“Just shut up and fuck me,” you murmur, swallowing thickly when he pulls himself out. “Before I change my mind and find somebody else."
He scoffs with a smile. “I’d like to see you try.”
He gives himself a few pumps, growing harder in his palm before he lets go and moves his attention to your jeans. He’s got them down your legs and pooled around your ankles in under thirty seconds flat, your panties soon following suit.
But he teases you for just a moment. Because of course he does, the sadistic fucker. Needing to hear you beg for him before he actually gives you what you both want.
“Harry,” you huff, glancing down as he presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “We don’t have time, and the floor is dirty. Just do it.”
“Just do it? How romantic,” he snorts before obliging and straightening back up. “Thought girls liked foreplay.”
“We do, but not in gross, dirty bathrooms.”
“Fine. Next time.”
And for some reason, the casual way he refers to the future makes your head spin. You always assume the two of you will continue from time to time. But hearing him promise to take care of you again…
It’s almost…nice? 
Pushing the thought aside, you begin to turn around, hands pressing into the wall to brace yourself in preparation for what comes next.
But just as you’re getting comfortable, he suddenly grabs onto your hips, and spins you forward once again.
“No,” he murmurs softly, pretty green eyes trailing down your face. “No, I wanna see you this time.”
“Oh,” you whisper, skin growing hot as he steps between your legs. “Okay…?”
He grins lightly before reaching up to trail his thumb along your bottom lip. “I like watching you get all sappy when I fuck you. The way you grin when it feels good.”
Suddenly, your pulse starts to stagger. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I like your smile.”
You suck in quiet breath. “I thought it creeped you out. That I had too many teeth.”
He chuckles to himself before taking hold of his cock and bringing it closer, trailing it between your legs. “You do. But that’s what makes you so beautiful.”
You think he must be out of his mind. Lost on the idea of sex and pleasure and SnakeBite’s. Tipsy and not all there. Because the Harry you know would never say something like that to you.
But you suppose you don’t really know Harry at all.
With that final thought, he hoists your leg over his hip, and begins to push in. It’s slow at first. You’re tense from the surroundings, from the loud sounds of the bar just on the other side of the wall, and from his admission.
But he loves it, cursing through gritted teeth before surging forward to kiss you. “Tink, you gotta fucking relax. Y’know I can’t do it if you don’t let me in.”
“Try…trying,” you pant, head falling back against the wall with a thud. “Sorry. Just go.”
He frowns, eyes rolling as his glasses begin to slip down the bridge of his nose. “M’not gonna go if you’re not stretched, Princess. I’m not trying to hurt you—”
“I don’t care,” you argue with a soft whine. “Really, I don’t care. Just go. Make it hurt.”
He releases your leg to slip his fingers just below your jaw, forcing your eyes on him. “Stop. M’not gonna do that, just relax.”
“I’m trying—”
“Try harder,” he murmurs, kissing the side of your mouth. “Come on, sweetie. Know you can do it. Know you always take me so well, don’t you?”
You nod fervently. “Yes…yeah, yes—”
“Then take me,” he whispers, his free fingers finding your clit. He rubs, and presses, and pinches until he feels you begin to unwind. “There you go…there she is, that’s my girl. S’better, isn’t it? Yeah? Gonna let me in now?”
You can’t exactly speak, already lost in the pleasure and the fullness his thick cock provides as it pushes past your walls and settles nearly in your belly.
The sound you make is depraved and eager, and it makes him smile. “That good, huh? So fucking cute how cockdrunk you get.”
“Shut…up,” you huff before reaching for his hair. “Faster.”
“Faster,” he repeats to himself, hips pulling back just to snap forward. “Always want it fast, don’t you? Never want me to take my time.”
“Cause I don’t want your dick in me longer than it needs to be,” you retort, but you both know that’s not true. “Fucking hurry—”
With a sharp and sudden thrust, he changes the pace. Obeying your command for fast and hard as your bodies shake with pleasure and force. 
And you imagine it should feel quite strange to be so enamored by one man – one cock. But here you are, panting, and gasping, and whimpering as he fucks you against this bathroom wall. Ignoring the pounding of the fists against the door from people wanting to be let in.
He kisses you. Kisses all of you. Your lips, your cheek, your chin, your nose, your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. Tugs on your skin with his teeth before flattening his tongue against the tortured flesh. 
His hand dances underneath your shirt. Palm smoothing up your stomach and over the cup of your bra. Slipping just far enough inside to knead you in his grasp. Make you whimper and push closer.
And he’s so warm. All of him is warm and soft and strong. He smells like mahogany and sex, and he feels like ecstasy.
You love his hands. The veins in his arms, the bulge of his muscles. The tan of his skin and the way he holds you. 
He might be infuriating, but my god is he fun to look at. 
“Fucking shit,” he snaps, readjusting his angle to make sure he’s fucking into you just right. “So fucking good, Tink. You’re shaking, sweetie. You close already?”
You can’t respond with words, instead clenching around him in an effort to prove his point.
He smirks, quickly reaching up to push his glasses back into place. “Good. Want you to come all over my cock, baby. Want you to soak me. Can y’do that for me, Princess? Can you soak my cock?”
You think you know what he means, but truth be told, you aren’t sure if you can. You’ve only done it twice before – by your own hand, not his – and you wonder if you’d even be able to like this.
But the question is answered for you when he moves just enough to find that sweet, spongy spot that unravels you faster than lightning. 
He hits it over and over and over – perhaps without even realizing – and when you suddenly begin to cry out his name…he understands.
He watches as it happens, aiding in your pleasure by spitting on his fingers and bringing them down to your clit. 
The ministrations are ruthless and beautiful, and it almost distracts you from the gushing between your legs, and the way you soak his thighs.
“Shit,” you think you hear him groan, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head. “So fucking good, Tink. Yeah, just like that. That’s good, baby, keep going. Give me all of it. Fucking all of it, sweetie, yeah.”
And just before you can go sliding down the wall out of pure exhaustion…he follows. Pressing his chest into yours to keep you upright as he spills inside your pussy, creating a bigger mess than before. 
Everything is wet and sticky and warm. He’s breathing into your neck, holding onto your body so tight, you imagine you’ll see memories of him tomorrow. 
And you stay, just for a moment. Learning how to take in air again and waiting for the feeling to return to your muscles.
“You okay?” he finally asks, exhaling the question into the sweaty skin of your throat. “Didn’t break you, did I?”
Your smile is lazy as you shake your head. “It would take a lot more than you to break me.”
And he laughs. In the kind of way that makes you clench around him again.
Which only makes him laugh harder.
“I fucking hope so.”
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Next Part:
~ Jealous*
Previous Part:
~ Off the Shelf*
~ Full 404 Masterlist
~ Main Masterlist
~ Blurb Masterlist
Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @daphnesutton
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shinestarhwaa · 5 months
Text
TRUTH OR DARE || ATEEZ OT8
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Genre: Smut
Pairing: Idol Ateez x fem reader
Word Count: 3.6K
Tags/warnings: OT8 smut, Idol!AU, 9th member!Y/N, orgy, dirty talk, m x m (quite a lot since everyone's just doing everyone so if u don't like it I suggest u don't read it), oral sex, fingering, unprotected sex, anal sex, boobjob, nipple play, masturbation, slight marking, some hairpulling, facefucking, yeosang spits once, fingersucking, handjob, orgasm denial, double penetration, creampie, breeding kink, cumeating, a lot...of...cum, wooyoung has a lot of power even when he bottoms, yeosang has power too
Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @1-800-shedevil @glintneon123 @mjyungi @bratty-tingz @staytiny816 @sugarnspice630
ENJOY!
"Aaand it'ssss.... Yeosang! Truth or dare?"
Yeosang whined n sighed, not wanting to play this stupid game in the first place. "Fine, uhm, truth I guess?"
"When's the last time you got laid?" Mingi shouted. "I'm literally beside you, Mingi, please tone it down," Yeosang said as he gave him a dead stare. "Why do you even wanna know?"
"Because we're nosy," Wooyoung chimed in, other members agreeing. "Well I suppose it was last month, when we were in Japan," Yeosang confessed. "I knew it. I knew you hooked up with someone!" You laughed, "I swore I heard a girl in his room."
"Yes, well, let's move on," Yeosang muttered as his cheeks got red. He spun the bottle and it landed on you. "I pick truth!" You said as you took another sip of your wine.
"Who of us would you rather fuck?" San asked you. "H-hey, wasn't Yeosang supposed to ask?" You said defending yourself. "I think Yeosang would want to know too. Who would you rather fuck?"
"San, I don't think-
"Come on, don't you know that we can hear you at night? Or in the shower? In the hotelrooms? When you're all needy, playing with yourself and moaning our names? And what about when you hooked up with that bodyguard and you called out MY name?"
"I-In my defense h-his name was Sangho. So that's really just a shortened version of-" "Y/N, please cut the crap now, we know about your fantasies and I mean, we have them too," Yeosang stated suddenly. The room was silent for a minute until Wooyoung giggled from the corner of the couch.
"What is it now, Woo?" "Well I was just thinking if all of us are having fantasies we could... give in to them...? We're alone right now, no one has to know, right?"
Wooyoung's request made some of the guys blush, but some were definitely turned on, smirking. "Are you suggesting we have an orgy, right here, right now?" Hongjoong asked in disbelief. "Yeah, kinda. You scared?" Wooyoung said with a smirk, sliding his hand over Hongjoong's thigh. "I mean, no... not scared..."
"Well good," Wooyoung said before crashing his lips into a startled Hongjoong, who soon enough started kissing back. Yeosang was seated from across the room and he had his legs spread a little, palming his already halfhard cock through his sweatpants. San followed soon after, his shirt already off.
Mingi sat on your left and decided this was his chance to make the first move on you. He leaned in and instantly you kissed him on his lips. Mingi's lips were overwhelmingly soft, like a pillow.
Yunho, who sat beside you on the right side was suddenly getting handsy as you felt him cupping your breasts from behind. As you were kissing Mingi, Yunho was playing with your bare nipples as you weren't wearing a bra under your sweater right now.
When Mingi noticed Yunho was working on your breasts he couldn't hold back, joining in on your left one. He broke off the kiss and yanked your sweater off your body, revealing your bare tits. The men grunted at the sight and you could feel yourself getting wet from all the attention.
Wooyoung had now pulled Hongjoong half onto his lap, tongues making a mess during the sloppy kiss. Yeosang looked at you and came closer, taking your sweatpants off and admiring your clothed pussy. Your cute, delicate underwear had a big wet patch on it, making him smirk. "Already, hm?"
Yeosang pulled them down and spread your legs, admiring your wet cunt. "Fuck, aren't you a beautiful thing?" Jongho took place beside Yeosang, spreading your legs even more.
You could feel a wetness press against your entrance, and then another, making you gasp loudly. Yeosang and Jongho took turns as they slid their tongues inside your wet hole, tasting your arousal. "Fuck, that's so good," Jongho moaned. Your hips bucked as his nose came in contact with your clit, sparking some sensitivity from you.
"S-sangie, ah~" you groaned as he moaned, pumping his tongue into your pussy, Jongho nibbling on your thigh as he did so. Yunho and Mingi still played with your sensitive nipples, but now as they made out with each other right in front of you.
San and Seonghwa were across from each other, still taken aback from the fact this was actually happening. All they knew was to get naked as soon as humanly possible. They took their cocks in their hands, stroking it as they watched the others.
Wooyoung and Hongjoong were still lost in their make-out, grinding hard-on's against each other. Yunho broke the kiss between him and Mingi and pulled him into his lap to kiss him again. That's when you noticed the lonely San. "San, baby, come closer," you panted out. Yeosang sucked harshly on your clit before plunging his tongue inside you again. Jongho's fingers were quick to find it's way to your sensitive clit, rubbing it quickly.
San scooched over to you. He straddled you hovering over your lap, sitting on his knees, cock rockhard against his toned stomach. You took it into your hand and stroked it slowly. He threw his head back as you sped up gradually, making him moan out your name.
"P-please, please, fuck," he moaned. You moaned along with him as the two between your legs showed no signs of stopping. They played you with their fingers and tongues, switching places and swallowing arousal from each other's tongues every few moments.
"Please what, Sannie?" You said with a smirk, followed by a shriek as you felt two fingers stretch your hole, fucking into you so fast your breath couldn't catch up. "I wanna cum, I want you to make me cum, all over your torso, please, I wanna cum all over," he groaned.
Your hands worked harder and faster and before you knew it he came with a loud moan, spilling his cum all over your chest and stomach. The sight of San bursting right in front of you sent you over the edge, cumming down on Jongho's fingers with a loud cry. "Yes! Fuck!"
Jongho rode out your orgasm and licked off his fingers. In the meantime Wooyoung and Hongjoong had stopped their make-out and gotten naked. Jongho stood up and smirked, getting naked in front of you. His thick member was throbbing and leaking pre-cum. You licked your lips as you watched San push him onto the couch. He must've noticed his dripping length and gotten needy. God, San was being so needy and hot.
San was between Jongho's legs in no time, licking stripes from the base to the tip of his cock. "Hyung," Jongho moaned out. His fingers ran through San's raven locks as he pushed San's head down on himself.
Hongjoong made his way to the eldest, sitting beside him and taking his cock into his hand. He spit on the length and smeared it out, wrist-action literally to die for. Seonghwa threw his head back and moaned, whined.
You got intrigued by what was going on with the eldest two so you decided to get closer. Hwa was moaning as Hongjoong worked his hand up and down his cock, teeth marking his neck. You kisses his neck as well and he whimpered out your name. "Let me finger you, please," Seonghwa moaned. You nodded desperately, wanting nothing more than his beautiful and slender fingers to pump inside your wet pussy.
You spread your legs for him and his hand slid over your crotch, collecting some of your arousal on his fingers. He slid two of them inside you, slowly pumping in and out. The squelching was like music to his ears, and it just turned him on more.
Wooyoung decided to come close and play with you too. He stood in front of you and lowered himself to kiss you passionately, one hand on your cheek and one in your hair, which he pulled pretty roughly, making you moan for him. He found this the perfect opportunity to slid his tongue inside your mouth.
You moaned uncontrollably, barely able to keep kissing Wooyoung when Seonghwa's fingers found your g-spot. "Fuck, you want it there baby? Take it there," Seonghwa grunted. "Yes, Yes right there, keep it right there, harder Seonghwa! Harder!" You moaned out inbetween kisses. Wooyoung pulled away and got himself and Hongjoong naked.
You briefly looked at the tallest two. They were stripping each other as their lips and tongues still collided. You felt yourself clenching around Seonghwa's fingers as you saw their big cocks twitching from arousal. Yeosang sat beside them and watched them, slowly pumping his own cock.
A loud cry was heard from Jongho as he fucked up into San's mouth. The grip in his hair was tight and San was whining and whimpering, sobbing on his cock as he let the maknae use him. His cheeks were hollowed and his eyes were full of tears, rolling back into his head. With a loud moan Jongho came, spurting his cum down San's throat. He panted loudly as Jongho pulled him off his member.
Yeosang got to San's side quickly, forcing his mouth open and spitting in it. "Swallow, come on," he ordered. San did as he was told, nodding as a tear fell down his cheek. "That's a good boy."
Seonghwa was still fucking you with his fingers as Hongjoong was fisting his cock. ''I-I'm getting so close,'' he whined out loud. Hongjoong smirked and let go off his cock, denying his orgasm. ''N-No, why?'' he cried out, his fingers stopping inside you as he panted. Hongjoong pulled Seonghwa's hand away from you and brought it to his own mouth, licking and sucking the arousal from Seonghwa's fingers. You whined and sighed, horniness almost overwhelming.
''Y/N, Get on the carpet,'' Wooyoung ordered. You nodded and did exactly that, feeling the soft carpet on your skin as you laid on your back. ''God, I wanna fuck you so bad, I can't wait any longer,'' he grunted as he pushed his thick member inside of you. You whined as he did so, cunt still so sensitive from all the pleasure the other guys gave you earlier.
''O-Oh my God, Woo, so big!''
Wooyoung smirked as he sensually rolled his hips into you. ''Oh? Babygirl thinks I'm big hm? You like that, big cocks? Bet you can't wait 'til all of us have been inside you. I just had to go first baby.''
''That feels so good! Fuck, harder Youngie!'' you moaned out as Wooyoung picked up his pace. Your legs tangled around Wooyoung's waist, wanting to keep him deep inside you. Suddenly you noticed a shadow over you. Mingi.
Mingi straddled you, his back facing Wooyoung, who was still fucking into you. Before you could ask him what he was doing his hands were all over your breasts. ''Mmh, Mingi,'' you moaned out. ''I fucking love your tits baby,'' he grunted in a low voice, cock twitching lightly. ''Yeah? You fucking love 'em huh?'' ''Fuck, yeah baby I do.''
''Why don't you fuck 'em then?'' Yeosang suddenly suggested, sitting beside you with a bottle of lube in his hand. ''Hmm, that sounds really fucking good. Gimme that lube,'' Mingi smirked. He squirted a nice amount of lube on his cock and ordered Yeosang to spread it out nicely for him.
Mingi grabbed your boobs and squished them together. He slowly rolled his hips forward, his lubed up cock slipping in and out of the gap between your breasts. ''Oh yeah... Fuck,'' Mingi cursed underneath his breath. As Mingi slowly lost him in the pleasure Wooyoung was trying to match his pace as well as staring at his ass. The boys gradually moved faster, the three of you becoming a moaning mess in unison.
Yeosang was stroking his cock as he watched the three of you. He somehow felt a sense of control and power over you as you were just doing anything he told you to. ''Grope her, Woo,'' Yeosang ordered. Wooyoung was quick to obey as he rutted into her at an inhumane pace, hands all over your thighs.
''Fuckin' hell, baby I'm so close, gonna fuck you full,'' he moaned out. After a few more thrusts he came deep inside you, creaming your hole. Just a few seconds after Wooyoung came inside you, Mingi orgasmed as well, spurting his cum all over your chest and the valley between your breasts. The guys rode out their highs before getting off you and panting, recovering from their climaxes.
Yunho didn't waste any time, getting on the floor between your legs, diving his face into your pussy. ''Fuck, I've been waiting for this pussy,'' he grunted as he licked your pussy clean, tasting Wooyoung's cum on his tongue. He kissed all over your body and slowly got to your stomach and chest, licking all the cum off your body. ''O-Oh my God, Yunho,'' you whimpered.
''Gonna fuck you now, gonna let you bounce on my cock. Jongho get the fuck here. We're gonna fuck this little one.'' Jongho nodded and moved towards you. Yunho laid down as he pulled you into his lap. His hands rested on your hips as you guided yourself down onto his dick. You whimpered and squeezed your eyes shut, moaning at the big stretch. You felt Jongho's hot body against your back as he slid into your pussy from behind. You cried out, tears stinging in your eyes.
As the guys gave you time to adjust to their lengths your gaze landed on Wooyoung and San. San laid on top of Wooyoung as his fingers pumped inside him. Holy fuck. ''T-That's it Sannie, right there, you know it, yeah, right there, get me nice and ready for your fat dick, that's it! Y-yes, good fuckin' boy!''
San was so eager to please Wooyoung who laid in front of him. His legs were spread wide for everyone to see as he stroked his own cock slowly. ''Put that cock in me now baby, come on, fuck me,'' he smirked. San nodded desperately and lubed up his length before sliding it inside Wooyoung, who moaned out at the feeling.
''Oh fuck, Woo, you feel so perfect,'' San said as he thrusted into him. He wasted no time to let Wooyoung adjust, roughly fucking into him. They let out little whines and puffs before their moans got louder, San going faster to the point he seemed to have become some kind of sex animal.
You started bouncing on the two cocks filling you up as you kept watching Wooyoung and San fuck. ''Fuck, that's so hot,'' you moaned out. Wooyoung kept spurring San on, dirty-talking him and completely driving him inside until he cried out and came inside him.
That's when Jongho and Yunho both started to fuck into you rapidly. Your mouth fell open, moans spilling out as your eyes rolled back from being fucked into oblivion. You could barely think or hold yourself up anymore as you got railed harder than ever before.
''Look at how fucking shameless you are,'' Yunho grunted, ''you like that huh? You're looking like such a pretty mess for us, letting us use you like a little fucktoy. But you fucking love it don't ya?''
''Fuck, I do, I do, I do!'' you chanted as your nails dug into Yunho's chest. The way they kept pounding their cocks into you and how Jongho panted and moaned into your ear gave you goosebumps and drove you crazy. ''I-I c-can't,'' you muttered, ''I-I'm gonna cum!''
''Cum with us precious, come on, cum on our big cocks, you like that huh? Bet you've been wanting to fuck our big cocks for so long now. Come on baby, come for us and we'll breed the fuck outta you,'' Jongho groaned into your ear. A few more thrusts later you came undone, falling down onto Yunho's chest as your body shook and shivered. The two men came simultaneously, filling your pussy up.
You sighed, content with the way you were so nicely filled. Yunho put you down on the couch where you slowly got down from your high. Then you saw Wooyoung bending San over and pounding into him, muscles flexing so hard it instantly got you wet again. Hongjoong came close to you and kissed your neck. ''You'll be a good girl and suck me off, right?''
''God, yes,'' you gasped and you got on your knees quickly, sitting on the ground between his legs. You wasted no time to wrap your mouth around his length. You licked and sucked, nearly slobbering all over his dick as he pushed your head down with a loud moan of your name. Yeosang got behind you and lubed up his dick a little before sliding into you.
''Fuck you stretch around me so nicely... So easily... They did a nice job fucking you open, didn't they?'' Yeosang smirked, hands roaming your ass. You moaned around Hongjoong's cock at Yeosang's words, bobbing your head up and down eagerly.
''I love how you take every inch of us baby, you take it so well. You must be made to take cock in those pretty little holes of yours,'' Hongjoong smirked. Yeosang started to fuck you back and forth, forcing you down on the elder's cock who warned you he was about to get close soon. You gagged on his cock as Yeosang didn't show any signs of slowing down. Hongjoong quickly pulled out his cock, cumming all over your face.
''Fuck, so pretty like that.''
You moaned and panted loudly, whining out Yeosang's name over and over again. Suddenly he pulled out of your cunt, spinning you around. You were laid down on the floor as he hovered above you, fisting his cock until he came with a low groan, his cum mixing with Hongjoong's.
You were so spent, laying on the soft, fuzzy carpet. You seriously thought you could fall asleep until you realized you hadn't fucked with San and Seonghwa yet. San was still busy getting railed like there's no tomorrow so you figured you'd try the other. Seonghwa was stroking his cock to the sight of them, so he was surprised to suddenly see you - covered in cum - in front of him. ''Fuck,'' he cursed underneath his breath.
''Do you still have some energy to spare, Hwa...? I haven't felt your cock in me yet,'' you pouted. The puppy eyes, pout and your smokin' body could never make him say no. San suddenly moaned out your name. Then Seonghwa's name.
''That's it, you got their attention, now be a good boy and get them here huh?'' Wooyoung grunted as he railed him in a position you were not bendy enough for.
''P-Please come here I need you, I want you, W-Want you!''
You smirked and dragged Seonghwa over to San and Wooyoung. Wooyoung pulled out of San briefly. ''Here's how we're gonna do this,'' he started, ''Seonghwa you're gonna lay down. Y/N you'll get on top of him and San, you're gonna fuck her from behind.''
The three of you obeyed Wooyoung and got in these exact positions. It was just like it was with Jongho and Yunho, except you were too tired to properly hold yourself up. You rested on your elbows on either side of Seonghwa's body as his hands roamed your ass. San slid his cock inside you besides Seonghwa's and quickly started moving. He was whining and nearly sobbing in your neck from the sensitivity.
The three of you moved in such a nice flow, moaning left and right, bodies rolling together, sweat dripping from each body and you swore it was like the most perfect porn movie in existance. Suddenly San cried out and lunged forward, calling out Wooyoung's name.
Wooyoung had assembled all the guys and ordered them to come closer. They had gathered 'round the four of you before Wooyoung suddenly slid back into San's ass. ''Y-Youngie, please, I'm so sensitive,'' he pleaded. But he showed no mercy, fucking into San even harder than before, fucking San right into you as well.
Seonghwa whined and bucked up his hips as Yeosang encouraged him to. ''That's it, fuck up into her, God, that's so hot.'' ''Fuck, fuck, oh my God!'' you moaned loudly. The remaining five guys stood there stroking their cocks quickly, watching the most sinful foursome ever witnessed. The lewd noises and sounds were so pornographic you could've made serious money with this.
It didn't take long before everyone was cumming, one after another, cum filling you and San up and cum landing on your thighs and backs. So much was happening and the pleasure and situation was so overwhelming that when the guys slipped out of you you passed out.
You woke up a while later in your bed where Seonghwa was snuggled up against you. ''Hey, there you are... You fell asleep there... I think. We don't know if you just fell asleep or killed you by dicking you down,'' he grinned softly. He gave you a bottle of water and some head pats as you smiled at him. ''You're all good?'' ''Yeah, I'm okay, just really sore... Thank you for cleaning me up and bringing me here... And staying here with me,'' you spoke. You took a sip from the bottle, coughing to scratch your sore throat.
''That's not a problem... Wooyoung should've done it though cause it was his idea but I doubt if he's still alive cause I believe someone sucked him off in the bathroom.'' You giggled and drank some more before laying down. ''This won't change a thing right? Besides that it might happen again...''
''Well we could play truth or dare again next week?''
707 notes · View notes
rebeliz7 · 1 month
Text
Dangerous
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Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader / Natasha Romanoff x Reader / Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff
Request: 32 & 64 prompts for Wanda or Natasha or maybe both😏
32. “If you interrupt me one more time, so help me god.”
64. “You’re not taking me to bed. ever.” “Who said it had to be on the bed?”
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“If you interrupt me one more time, so help me God.” Natasha threatens you, annoyed and left eye twitching. 
She’s not being serious, at least not entirely, but you still raise your hands in surrender and lean back in your seat. 
However, her eyes stay firmly locked with yours, and you have to smile at how worked up she seems. She rolls her eyes when you smile, just like you were expecting her to, and the meeting moves along. 
You weren’t interrupting her exactly, but it’s become intensely apparent that your presence annoys the hell out of Natasha. Whatever the reason.  
Not that you go out of your way to annoy her, that’s not the case at all. The thing is, and you’ve been aware of this for a while now, you make her nervous. So nervous that she doesn’t know how to deal with you. 
No one else seems to be aware of that little fact, although the entire Avengers Team lives together for the time being. But Natasha knows that you know, which makes her angry. 
Irrationally so, you must say. 
“She’s gonna get you one of these days.” Clint warns you in a low voice. 
“Yeah, but not today.” You joke, and Clint laughs softly to himself. 
“You don’t wanna push Nat. Trust me.” 
“Oh I'm not worried, trust me.”
The meeting ends on a neutral note, since Sam and Bucky lost track of their target on their latest mission. A team needs to fly out to Mexico to lend a hand and things will get a move on again. 
Steve and Clint are going, and so is Shuri. This is not Shuri’s first mission, but you take it upon yourself to get her as ready as she can be before they fly out. 
She’s grown on you, in a 'younger sister' sort of way. You guess it's because she’s younger than you, and so amazingly smart, that her awe for everything you guys do endears her to you greatly. 
“Don’t get killed while I’m gone.” She tells you as you walk her into the hanger, and you’re tempted to laugh. 
“You’re going on a mission with Barton, you’re the one that should be worried. I’ll be fine right here.”
“True, but Natasha is about to kick your ass into a coma if you keep pushing her.” She reminds you, and you huff indignantly. 
“Why does everyone think she can kick my ass that easily?” You ask loudly, just as Clint comes out of the jet with a pointed look. 
“Because she can.” He deadpans. “And she will if you don’t give her some space.”
“I didn’t hear any of that.” You pointendly tell him while Shuri gives you a goodbye hug. “Still trying to process this lack of faith from both of you in my fighting skills.”
“Keep it up.” Clint tells you with another look.
“That’s what she said.” You joke, and you hear Shuri laugh too. Clint chuckles and shakes his head at you, probably thinking that you’re gonna get your ass kicked for real.  
“There’s a kid here!” Steve shouts from the jet, and you run back inside before that lecture reaches your ears.  
When you walk inside the kitchen you find Wanda by the stove, stirring a red sauce and your spirits instantly pique up. 
“Can I have some?” You ask, coming up behind her. She yelps in surprise, and you press a kiss on her cheek. 
“You scared me.” She smiles, her cheeks tainting red at your proximity, and you lean against the counter as she turns off the stove before checking on the pasta. “Can you set the table? This is ready.”
She’s a pro at this, and you can't resist her cooking. 
“It smells really good. My mouth is watering already.” You tell her as you set out two plates, and her cheeks grow redder. 
You smile to yourself, and can’t deny that you’re almost inclined to kiss those cheeks again, but you resist the urge. You and Wanda didn’t exactly date, but you did sleep together a few times, and you thought of asking her out properly, but the timing was never right so nothing real ever came up from it. 
Then she moved on -with Vision of all people- and you moved on too. Not that anyone was supportive when you started dating Emma Frost, and maybe you see their point now. Emma was a wild ride, to say the least. 
Shaking your head to get rid of the memories, you pass Wanda the plates. 
“Can you get another one?” Wanda asks you. 
“This isn’t dinner for two?” You ask as you go to take down another plate, and she shakes her head. 
“Natasha is here too. She went to take a quick shower, so she'll be here any minute.”
You smile to yourself. 
...
Natasha is tempted to bolt the moment she sees you’re going to join them for dinner, and you grin when you meet her eyes. It must be infuriating that you can so easily tell what goes through her mind, when she’s spent her entire life training to be unreadable. 
You know she hates it, and often wonders how you’re capable of doing it. To be quite honest, you have no idea either. You just have this sixth sense when it comes to her, that lets you read her like an open book. 
But, you keep your mouth shut all through dinner. You behave, while Wanda and Natasha chat away. You even get seconds, and fill their glasses with more wine when they get low. 
All in all, you don’t annoy Natasha at all while you eat, and you even offer to clean up while they move to the living room with a second bottle of red to continue their conversation. 
You put the dishes in the dishwasher, wipe down all the surfaces, and when you’re done you take a beer from the fridge with the intention to leave them to it. 
“You can join us.” Natasha calls out, just as you take your first sip. 
“You sure?” You ask her, and she rolls her eyes, her go-to reaction whenever you open your mouth.
“As long as you keep the innuendos to yourself, we’re okay.” She sips her wine delicately then, and you -a mere mortal- become entranced with the shape of her lips, and the sensual way in which she drinks. 
“Sure.” You clear your throat, and drink almost half of your beer in one go. 
You’d be lying if you said that you’ve never thought of Natasha in other, much more naked circumstances, but you’re aware that that is never gonna happen, and you’re okay with it. 
“You’re uncharacteristically quiet.” Wanda notices after a while when she comes back with yet another bottle of red, and another beer for you. 
“I don’t want to annoy the pretty lady over there.” Natasha groans at your response, which only makes you smile. You almost can’t believe how easy it is for her to become agitated in your presence. 
“You gotta try harder than that.” She deadpans, and Wanda takes the seat next to yours instead of sitting in front of you, like she was before she went to the kitchen. 
“I’m not annoying, am I?” You ask Wanda, and she gives you this smile that you immediately feel drawn to. 
You breathe in deeply as she gives you this look that makes hot electricity run through you, and runs her fingers through your hair. You do miss her, especially when she’s looking at you like this and her fingers are in your hair.
“You’re quite charming.” She says, and you think she might reciprocate if you were to kiss her right now. 
“You see?” You look at Natasha, and she rolls her eyes, but not with malice. 
“Maybe I just don’t like you.” She says before sipping her newly refilled glass of wine, and you clutch your chest in mock offense. 
“You wound me.” You scoff while smiling, but deep down you do feel hurt by her words. Not a lot, but still. 
“Natasha likes you.” Wanda tells you then, and you’d think she’s joking if the look on Natasha’s face wasn’t so telling. 
“She does, huh?” You ask, mostly to yourself. 
“I thought there were things we agreed on not sharing with anyone.” Natasha reminds her, and Wanda shrugs lightly, the glass of wine close to her lips as she smiles. 
“What happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom?” She asks, and with a start you realize that she’s slightly drunk, and oversharing is -unfortunately- her one obvious tell. 
That’s how everyone found out that you two were sleeping together a while ago, and right now she’s just revealed that she and Natasha are a little more than just friends.
“I swear to God, if you even think of saying anything right now.” Natasha threatens you, and you laugh, your comeback at the tip of your tongue. 
“She likes you too.” Wanda tells Natasha, her finger pointing at you, and you choke on your beer. 
“You’re not seriously trying to play matchmaker here.” Natasha’s grin is otherwise telling of how amused she’s finding this entire exchange. 
“What? It's not like I even had to look inside her head to know that.” Wanda says, and you finally put your beer down after getting your coughing fit under control. “I’m not wrong, am I?” 
She has the audacity to shoot you a smug look, as if she wasn’t throwing you under the bus here.
“Well, no.”
“Great.” Natasha sneers. 
“Okay, now hold on.” You speak up as Wanda laughs, and you take the glass of wine from her hands. She’s had enough to drink. “There are different levels of liking someone.”
“Educate us, please.” Wanda is trying to hold back laughter now, and you really - she’s just - she’s such a little shit.
“Well, I wouldn’t exactly kick Nat out of my bed. But, I’m not interested in anything more than that. No offense.” You add quickly.
“None taken, and you’re not taking me to bed. Ever. So don’t worry about it.” Natasha tells you, and how can you not take that one? Sometimes she just makes it easy for you. 
“Who said it had to be a bed?” You retort and her face turns red, and you’re not sure if she’s about to kick your ass or just shoot you on the spot.
However, you’re not expecting her to walk over, and kiss you dead on the lips. Which is exactly what she does. 
When she pulls back Wanda is laughing, and you’re pretty sure you’re dreaming. 
“Cat got your tongue?” Natasha asks when you finally open your eyes, and you swallow with difficulty. 
Without waiting a beat you pull her back in, kissing her again, a bit more forcefully than she did first, and she kisses you back in earnest. A part of you isn’t sure of what’s happening, but the other part of you is enjoying this turn of events quite a bit. 
“Well, well, well.” You comment when she pulls back, as if she’s finally realized what she was doing. If you’re smiling like a lunatic it’s only because you truly can't help it. 
“Is anyone going to kiss me?” Wanda asks, and you break eye contact with Natasha to look at her. 
“Come here, you needy monster.” You pull her onto your lap, and she straddles you with ease and familiarity. A pretty smile on her pink lips as she cups your face, and you wrap your arms around her waist. 
Kissing Wanda is still heaven. You’re once again submerged in her world, and you still find it incredibly addictive. She bites your bottom lip softly as she rocks her hips forward to meet yours, and you can’t help but let your hands wander. 
Grabbing a handful of her ass you pull her closer to you as she deepens your kiss, and you can taste the red wine on her tongue. Her breath is hot as she breathes heavily into your mouth, and your mind becomes fuzzy with want.
“Such a good kisser.” Wanda says against your lips, and you smile sweetly. She’s so adorable, especially from this angle, and the way she scrunches up her nose makes you want to kiss all over her face. 
“Better than me?” Natasha asks, and to your surprise you turn your head to find her sitting right next to you. 
“I’m not sure.” Wanda says with a false thoughtful look, and hidden smile. 
Natasha doesn’t give her a verbal answer, instead you watch the redhead grab Wanda by the neck, and pull her down for an intense kiss that has Wanda moaning in a matter of seconds. 
You watch them kiss while holding Wanda’s hand, and your throat dries up. You watch, and realize that this is actually happening. You watch until you can’t anymore. 
Grabbing a hold of Wanda’s arm you pull her back to you, and kiss her hungrily. She’s still moaning, her hands now desperately pulling off your shirt, as you do the same with her sweater. 
You hear Natasha softly chuckling next to you, but you’re already too wrapped up in everything that Wanda is to care about the world, let alone Natasha’s smug laughter. 
“I’ve missed your lips,” Wanda says as she pulls back slightly, a tipsy smile on her extremely kissable lips. 
You smile while your hands squeeze her bare waist, and you don't hold back from kissing her again. You’ve missed her lips too, and you hope she can read between the lines. 
Her hands in your hair pull back lightly, exposing your neck as she moves to place heady kisses all over it. You’re breathing rapidly now, your hands massaging her breasts, as she licks a path up your throat, still pulling on your hair. 
“Kinda feeling left out here.” Natasha’s voice breaks through the fog in your mind, and Wanda sits back on your lap, as she tries to get her breathing under control. 
“I’m not sure of what's happening exactly.” Wanda says as you inch closer to her. Your hands are still on her, touching every inch of her exposed skin as you can, while she combs back your hair. You kiss her upper breast, careful not to leave any hickies, despite desperately wanting to. 
She gasps, and you look up to kiss her lips, focusing on pinching her nipples now as she rocks her hips forward. 
“You want to stop?” You ask after pulling back only the necessary amount to be able to ask her that. 
“No.” She shakes her head, her hand gently caressing your cheek as she looks into your eyes. “I think I want you both.”
Instinctively you look towards Natasha, who is still holding her glass of wine, and sipping the red liquid delicately as she observes the two of you. 
“Do you - ” Wanda grabs your chin, making you look at her. “Do you want me?” She asks, and you move to pull her ever closer to you. As if that’s possible.  
“Always.” You nod quickly, and as you kiss the corner of her lips she turns to look at Natasha with the same question. 
“You don’t ever have to worry about that.” You hear Natasha say, but you refuse to stop kissing every single inch of her skin to look. 
“I don’t?” Wanda asks breathlessly, your mouth doing wonders on her neck, while your hands reacquainted themselves with the rest of her body. 
“You don’t.” Natasha says, and she sounds much closer now. Her voice is more sultry than you've ever heard it before, and you pull back, if only to see the look on her face. 
You watch her take Wanda’s outstretched hand as she stands, and pulls Wanda on her feet as well. You swallow with difficulty as you watch her kiss Wanda softly, lips merely ghosting over each other. 
However fleeting the kiss though, you see Wanda’s legs quiver and Natasha’s arm wrapping around her waist to keep her upright. 
“Bedroom?” She asks her with the confidence of someone who already knows the answer, and Wanda nods, as if in a daze. 
You watch them walk away, and you try to calm your racing heart, but it’s difficult when Wanda turns to you from the hallway. 
“You coming?” She asks you, and you’re pretty sure that your brain short circuits. 
You stand up, picking up your unfinished beer, and down it in one go before you nod, and walk towards her. 
“That's what she said.” You stupidly joke, and Natasha rolls her eyes expectedly, but now you see that the edge in her eyes isn’t entirely hate. 
“Incorrigible.” Wanda smiles as she grabs your hand, and pulls enough for you to fall into step next to her. 
“You’re dangerous.” You murmur close to her ear as you wrap your arms around her from behind, and she throws you a side glance, feigning innocence. 
“I have no idea what you mean.” She says, and Natasha chuckles lightly as she unlocks the door to her bedroom. 
“Sure you don’t.” She says as she pulls Wanda in for a demanding kiss, and you close the door behind you. 
Well, you think to yourself, Natasha might actually end up killing you after all, but at least it’ll be pleasurable for the both of you. 
...
430 notes · View notes
cashmoneyyysstuff · 3 months
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Hiya there!
I have two questions,
first, what if Katsuki was whipped over a popstar reader?
Also, who's the character in your profile? i wanna maybe draw her.
Much love
-Kovu :>
hello this is LOOOOONG overdue @kovu-bunnbunn im soooo sorry ! i didnt rlly know how to get to this at first cus i've never done hc's before, but either way i hope you like it ! also tumblr just randomly ate this so i had to restart...yay.
p.s.: the character on my profile is my oc ryoko ! she's my mha oc, i'd be so super flattered if you decided to draw her ! (also idk if you couldve guessed but shes my oc x canon katsuki ship I KNOOOOW shocker)
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katsuki has literally every single piece of merch he can get his hands on
vinyls, album records, posters, accesories and t-shirts but he never wears them he hides them somewhere in his room so you don't find out he has them.
(you do find out eventually.)
he gets so giddy on the inside when you give him limited edition stuff and that's always something he shows off
"woah man that's limited edition ive been LURKING for that !" "yeah well apparently you haven't been lurkin' hard enough cus I HAVE IT--"
he shows up to all your concerts and somehow he manages to be the loudest one there lmfaooo his ass is NOT on mute.
if you ever take him backstage he's so awkward cus he doesnt know anyone so he just sticks to you (not like he doesn't on the daily)
at most he'll nod at people in greeting (he's kinda scared he'll start stuttering)
but he's scary lookin so the staff n others think he's just protective over you
for sure your other bandmates / staff think he's your personal bodyguard LOLOLOLOL
but nope turns out he's just a loser lol
if you sell photocards as merch or something like that best believe has ALLL of them
collectin em like his phone isn't already filled with pictures of you
his storage about to burst and it's still not enough for 'im LOLOL
he for sure has a secret fan account that entirely revolves around you.
he defends you with his LIFE on there too he's one of them fans😭😭😭
he has a different playlist from specific albums depending on his mood, so whatever playlist he's on there's always at least one song of yours on there
he has a seperate 'bad boy playlist' that he has so you don't find out he's a hyperfan
one time you guys were sharing earbuds in the bus while his playlist was on shuffle and he'd accidently added one of your songs on his edgy dark n brooding cool guy playlist.
needless to say he was more than embarrassed, damn near MORTIFIED and didn't look at you for the whole bus ride 😭😭
gets so flustered when he finds out songs you've written were while you thought of him or were dedicated to him. he gets so blushy about it but he's such a show off
like whenever he hears a song meant for him, he smirks about it to himself and no one understands why but he really doesn't care cus they don't need to understand
cus it's something between you and him <3
all in all, he loves you and your music (and your merch) and he couldn't be prouder to call himself your boyfriend <3
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sylveon-official · 3 months
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thoughts on angel's heartbreak
viv has already said that angel is gonna get his heart broken sooo
i imagine husk pushes a boundary. we've already seen husk push angel's limits quite a few times. he's obviously really judgmental and i think that's one of his biggest flaws. it almost seems like a defense mechanism, that because he's already given up on himself, he doesn't want to waste angel's potential and so he's harder on him.
we've got tons of examples of this in masquerade, with husk calling him fake. and even in welcome to heaven when angel is considering taking drugs, husk totally plays a guilt trip - "go ahead if you wanna mess up all your progress, i just thought you were better than that"
i think that's how the 'heartbreak' is gonna happen. angel can't believe he's got a someone like husk in his life and he's so smitten, coming to terms with his feelings for husk and tentatively getting hopeful that they're reciprocated. like husk has built him up enough to the point that angel feels he can break down his walls around him, so they're getting closer, more flirtatious in a really sweet way, sometimes even a little touchy.
so imagine them being at this stage, where angel so fully trusts him, which is a big deal for him. and then angel fucks up real bad. he's been clean for almost 6 months and him and everyone else in the hotel are super proud. but after a hard day in the studio he just breaks and goes on an all night bender. like he's out so late husk starts to worry and texts him, but all he gets is a belligerent phone call like "huskYYY BAaaby don' worry i'm jus' out w the girls from the studio u should be here miss yoo-" and then some guy cuts in like "angelbaby, i thought you were gonna show me a good time?" and angel's like "mmm oh ya cmere daddy~" and the call cuts off.
husk is fuckin pissed, not just bc angel is off the wagon after making so much progress, but he's also jealous. like they were obviously heading in the direction of something more, or so he thought, but here's angel back to his old self-destructive habits, getting fucked up and fucking random guys.
the next day, husk finds angel passed out on the on the couch. usually he would wake him up with breakfast or coffee if he knew he'd had a long night at the studio, but this time he just rolls his eyes and gets to work on the bar, maybe stuffing glasses back into cabinets a little louder than usual.
that wakes angel up and he's like, "huuusk what the fuck couldya keep it down?"
"it's almost noon. don't you have something to do? or someone..." he mumbles the last part, but angel hears and is wide awake like, "fuckin' excuse me?"
"what? you don't remember callin' me last night? sounded like you scored a real charmer"
angel is stalking up to the bar getting embarrassed and defensive, "wtf? since when do you care who i'm fuckin' in my free time?"
"i guess since it obviously wasn't a choice you made entirely sober! what were you thinking?! you were clean 6 whole months, and you gave it up to what? snort coke off of some hunk's abs?!"
angel's mouth drops open and he doesn't know what to say but his heart stings. he knows he fucked up real bad, but it was a hard day and he guesses old habits die hard... it's his first real attempt at getting clean, and of course he's disappointed in himself. and honestly, he was planning on talking through it with husk, but now...
"well that is just rich coming from you," angel says, shaking, rolling his eyes in the direction of husk's bloody mary.
"yeah, well, i'm not the one trying to get into heaven-"
"fuck off with that shit husk! you don't think i know i fucked up?! i'm not an idiot! you don't gotta keep that line in your back pocket for every time i screw up! i already know it's fuckin' pointless, you don't need to keep reminding me, asshole, get over yourself!" and he starts storming off upstairs, eyes welling up.
husk does feel guilty, and wants to continue the conversation, but he's still firmly of the belief that if angel just pulls himself together, he's a shoo-in for redemption and it's frustrating to see him self-destruct after making more progress than ever before.
"angel, wait-"
"NO, fuck you husk!" angel turns around, tears streaming down his face, pointing an accusing finger. "i thought if anyone could understand, it'd be you! i know everyone else is gonna be disappointed in me, but you-" he pauses, gulps down his tears and steels his face, "i guess i don't know you as well as i thought i did" and then storms upstairs.
then angel would have a few consecutive weeks of totally self-destructive behavior on a whole new level than anyone else at the hotel had ever seen. maybe he even moves out of the hotel and back in with val, having given up not only on himself and his grand delusions of getting clean and redeemed, but also his "stupid school-girl crush" on husk.
this turned into something way longer than i intended lol, but my point is that since angel is gonna experience heartbreak we know it has to involve husk, and with husk's habit of guilt-tripping angel... i think it will need to blow up at some point and be seriously discussed.
i also think we need to see the 'it gets worse before it gets better' side of recovery bc obviously it's unrealistic that now that angel is a serious resident of the hotel, his addictions are just gonna magically disappear. and i think that's gonna cause some misunderstanding and turmoil with not only husk, but also our main cast.
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kamiversee · 3 months
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➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏
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✧.* CHAPTER 11 || The Thorn and The Petal
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[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?
[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, angst, & fluff.
[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4k
[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.
[ [ chapters mlist } ]
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——"WELL, CONSIDERING THE FACT THAT he's my professor, I thought it'd be pretty obvious that he's one of the hardest on the list." Gojo's voice flew through your ear.
You had him on the phone as you lay on your stomach across your bed. Talking to him is something you want to limit as much as possible but you can't try anyone on the list completely blindsided so, sadly, you still need him.
"Then there's Nanami. As far as I know, he's not interested in sleeping with just anyone-- you'll most likely have to get to know him a bit." Gojo explains. You're taking little notes of this in a journal of yours since it's a lot of information to keep up with. "And uh, you said you met Choso already...?" The man over the phone asks.
"Mhm, ran into him in the hallway. He doesn't seem like he'll be hard to win over." You say casually.
Gojo pauses for a second. Then he sighs, "Yeah, the worst-case scenario with him is that he'll catch feelings for you."
A brow rose in suspicion, "What makes you think he'll catch feelings for me?"
"He's not like the other guys on the list. Aside from..." Gojo takes a second to think, "I guess, Nanami, I'm not sure Choso is used to or even understands the concept of a hookup."
"Meaning...?"
"Meaning, he'll grow attached."
"Okay well," You hesitate. "Let's just hope he doesn't."
"Right." Gojo chuckles a little, nearly sounding relieved.
You write some more stuff into the journal, trying to devise a plan for each man. "Okay and, can you just tell me the last two people on the list?"
"Oh. Well, there's Sukuna, who happens to be Choso's older... half-brother? I really don't know how their family works but, yeah." He answers, sounding a little confused on the matter himself.
You're quiet for a long moment, white noise heard through the phone. It takes you a few minutes to really process what that idiot just told you. First a professor and now you're learning that you have to fuck two people who are related...
"Gojo..." You let out a stressed sigh. "Y'know what, never mind."
"Nono, what is it?" He urges, interested in hearing how you feel about it.
He knows it's probably not the most easy thing to accept but, that doesn't make him care any less about how you feel.
Your eyebrows are tensed, "Half-brother?"
"Okay I know how it sounds but, I'm pretty sure they hate each other," Gojo tells you as if it's supposed to make things sound good.
"Oh my god," You reply, voice sarcastic, "That makes it so much better."
"Listen-"
"No Gojo, I really think I'm done listening. Who's the last person?" You divert.
The sound of him taking a deep breath can be heard, "Fuck, you're not gonna like this one either..."
"What is it?"
"It's Naoya... Who happens to be..." Gojo swallows hard, "Well, he's..."
"He's what?!" You huff, "Spit it the fuck out Gojo."
"I'm like fifty percent sure he's Mr. Fushiguro's cousin or something."
You scoff in pure disbelief. "Why am I not fucking surprised?"
"I'm sor-"
"Apologize to me one more time and I promise you, this will be our last conversation ever." You cut off.
You then drop the phone in your hand onto the bed, putting the man on speakerphone and moving your fingertips to massage your temples. A migraine is on the rise within your head and you don't know how much longer you can put up with this shit.
You swear the only good thing about this is the fact that you're getting paid.
Suddenly, as you think harder about the situation you're in, tears well up in your eyes. This shit sucks. It fucking sucks. You don't wanna do this. What if you get caught doing something with Toji? Or, what if one guy finds out about the other and then you experience a spiderweb effect of everyone figuring your little scheme out?
How can you get out of this situation? Why did it have to be you of all people? Why won't Gojo just find someone, anyone else to do this bullshit for you? Yeah, you need the money-- which is another thing for you to cry about because you can't get a proper job to save your life, but you still hate everything about this.
Before you even realize it, you're sniffling and wet spots are forming against the bed below you.
Gojo's still on the line, wondering if he's hearing things correctly. You hear him call out your name softly, almost as if he genuinely cares about you. The sound of his gentle tone alone makes your crying get a little worse.
"F-Fuck off," You choke out.
You then move a hand to hang up on him because you don't want him to hear you crying like this but he starts talking and you start listening before you press that bright red button.
"Wait, shit, listen. I know I'm an asshole, I know this whole thing is fucked up, I know I'm treating you terribly right now but..." Gojo trails off and you think you hear a thud on the other side of the phone. Did he just hit something? "Fuck, I know you don't want to hear this but I am sorry, honestly."
Your voice is a small whisper as you wipe your face off, "Screw you and your sorry."
"I... I-I'll triple it." Gojo suddenly offers.
You swallow and sniffle a bit, "Triple what?"
"The original price. I'm changing it to six thousand." He says.
You can tell he's serious about it too because as you stare at your phone in shock, you see another deposit made to your account to make up for the interactions you had with him and Geto.
"P-Per person??" You ask to clarify.
"Yes, it's... it's the least I can do, right?" Gojo sighs. Even though you want to ignore it, you can hear how disappointed in himself he sounds.
For another long moment, you're quiet. The least he can do? Bullshit. He's the one who put you in this damn situation in the first place.
"...No..." You end up mumbling out.
He scoffs lightly, "No?"
"The least you could do is delete the video and let me go." Your voice is as delicate as ever, gently hitting the man's ears in a way that makes his heart throb.
Gojo grits his teeth and although you can't see it, his head tips back against his bedframe as he stares up at his ceiling. His hands raise to his face and his words are a little muffled, filled with distraught, "...I can't do that, sweetheart. I can't." He breathes.
The man sounds almost pained at the thought of letting you go.
You scowl at the phone, eyes watering all over again, "S-Stop it with the damn nickname, I hate it-, I hate you."
Gojo has a broken little smile on his face and the voice you hear over the phone is full of hurt, "I know but-," He clears his throat a little and you hear him inhale deeply, "Fuck... you don't really mean that do you?" He whispers.
You don't know why you don't respond instantly like you were before. It's like the sound of his voice was getting to you. Why does he sound hurt too? This isn't affecting him the way it is you so, what the hell is his problem?
"...I don't know," You mumble, "I don't even fucking know anymore."
It goes quiet after that.
You couldn't hear much from your phone but the softest sounds of him moving. It was gentle movements though, not like he was doing anything inappropriate but almost like...
You don't want to think about it or even take a guess but it genuinely sounded like the man could've been crying over the phone.
As soon as you think about it, you scoff at yourself and shake your head. Gojo Satoru, crying because you said you hate him? Yeah right.
"I should uh," You sniffle a bit, "I should go-"
"I'll make it up to you." He suddenly sighs. "All of it. I swear, I'll make it all up to you, okay?"
Again, his words and the tone of his voice are yanking at your overworked heartstrings. "...Promise?" You whisper, having no idea why you're giving him this chance in the first place.
Gojo's smiling at his phone, hearing the change in your voice and feeling relieved that you're actually listening to him, "I promise."
With one last quiet okay slipping from your lips, the phone call ends there.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Within minutes after that ridiculously angsty phone call, you receive a text from someone that instantly has you blinking away your tears.
It's Choso.
It had been maybe a little over an hour and a half since you ran into him in the hallway but, here he was texting you already. It was a simple text that read; 'hey ik we just met and all but, can I call you?'. You had to blink a few times to register what you were reading.
After you mentally prepare for it, you go ahead and respond with a simple yeah in response. Seconds later, the male is calling-, no, FaceTiming you.
You think your heart sinks into your fucking toes. Your eyes are slightly reddened and puffy from the crying you just did and you do not want him to see you right now.
Regardless, you answered the call and have the camera directed toward the ceiling. Choso's stupidly handsome face pops up on your screen and you're smiling already.
"Hey uh, ok I know this is kinda awkward but my brother wouldn't answer and I wanted to show this to someone," He tells you, his voice like a calming balm to your ears.
"You could've just sent me a picture y'know..." You say, your tone noticeably light due to the tears you just shed.
Choso pauses for a second, staring at his phone. "Okay, scratch that for a second, are you okay?"
"Uhm, yeah? Why?"
"You sound like you were crying." He points out.
How the actual fuck can he tell?
You chuckle at him, "I wasn't."
"Then you sound upset. Did something happen?"
"Nothing I feel like talking about right now but, thanks for asking. What did you wanna show me?"
"I won't show you unless you tell me something." Choso says in full seriousness, "And plus, you're not even showing your face which further believes me to think you were crying."
Again, you laugh, "I uh, I just look a mess right now. And the only thing I'll tell you is... I dunno, I had an argument with my..." What the hell do you even refer to Gojo as at this point?
"Your boyfriend?" He suddenly fills in for you.
"No!" You huff, giggling at his assumption, "I don't even have a boyfriend."
You see him smiling a little, "Girlfriend, then?"
"No, Choso. I'm single."
"Ohhh." He hums, sounding genuinely surprised. "My bad, did you fight with a friend?"
"Uh, yeah, I guess you could call him that." You say, shrugging a little.
"Damn. It must've been a big argument."
"What makes you say that?"
His shoulders raised, "You don't even wanna call him your friend."
You scoff a little, "He's just... an asshole."
"One that made you cry?" Choso asks, arching a brow in suspicion.
"No," You roll your eyes, "I didn't cry, Choso."
"Show me your face then."
"I don't want to."
He scoffs, "That's how I know you were crying."
You hate the way the man is reading right through you. "I wasn't." You argue.
"Lying to me when the truth is obvious is crazy," Choso says dramatically.
"I'm not lying."
You see him shake his head in disappointment, "Damn, I might need to remember this as a red flag of yours; pathological liar." He tells you with his voice both serious and playful at the same time.
"You really don't believe me, huh?"
"Not until I see your face, no."
"Fine," You lift your phone slightly, only showing your face from the nose up.
Choso stares for a minute before suddenly smiling fully and holy shit is the sight sexy. The phone is quiet as he stares at you, almost dazed like how he was earlier. You feel a little awkward and have the urge to put the phone down but when he blurts something out, you end up freezing.
Choso tilts his head and his gaze is scrutinizing, "Your eyes are so fuckin' pretty, I'm gonna lose my mind." He compliments abruptly.
Your heart definitely stopped for a minute, maybe three. The way you drop your phone and sink your head into your blanket like a blushing and giggling teenager is comical at this point. The man's words made you smile so hard that your cheeks were starting to hurt.
"Don't... Don't say shit like that so suddenly," You say, chuckling through your words.
He shrugs and sits back into whatever chair he's in, "But it's true. Fuck, show me your full face this time."
"G-Gimme a second," You sigh.
"Why?"
Does he not realize how attractive he is right now? You can't even conversate normally.
"Cause' I... I need a minute." You mumble to him.
The corner of his lips is up in a smirk and damn the way he looks at the phone. "Did I just make you nervous?" He asks, his voice suddenly a little lower.
You scoff, "No."
"Liarrr," He taunts.
"I'm not lying."
He clicks his tongue, his eyes low on the phone. "Then show me your face, princess."
Jesus, the nickname caught you off-guard. You can't do this. Why is Choso so... so... hot? Sexy? Attractive? You don't even know what word to use for the man at this point.
"Fuck. Fine." You end up sighing.
Then, you slowly move to lift your phone and prop it up with a nearby pillow. Since you're laying on your stomach and you're wearing a loose tank top, your chest is pressed against the bed below and Choso has a full view of that and everything else from your neck up.
He blinks a few times and you pray that he doesn't say anything that'll fluster you again.
To your surprise, it seems as though you'd flustered the man without saying anything. Choso's head turns to the side as he looks away from his phone and you get a lovely view of his jawline. Damn, he's got quite the side profile.
You watch him inhale deeply and then peek over to his phone from the corner of his eye as if that'll change the sight on his device. You simply blink innocently at him as if you're unaware of the way you look right now.
"You alright over there?" You ask in an almost sultry tone.
Choso clears his throat and nods, turning to face his camera again, "Yeah, I'm fine."
"You sure?"
He stares intently before saying, "You're somethin' else, y'know that?"
A chuckle leaves you as you tilt your head, "Am I?"
"Yeah. But uh, now that I can see you..." His eyes dart past his phone and you watch as he looks back and forth between the device and whatever is in front of him.
Your eyebrow raises in curiosity as you watch him, "What is it?" You ask.
"Oh, it's what I wanted to show you." He says and you watch him stand up and look down at his phone one last time. "Okay, it's not perfect but I hope you like it."
For a second you're still confused but when Choso flips the camera around, sheer surprise takes over your expression and your jaw literally drops. It was by far one of the most beautiful things you'd ever laid your eyes on.
"Don't freak out, I hope this isn't weird," Choso says quickly as he backs up a little and gives you a full view.
The man had painted you.
It was unique too. Not just like a normal portrait but like how you appeared in his eyes which just so happened to be so very beautiful. His art in general includes darker colors and you can see other paintings behind his newest one, all fitting in with his theme.
"Y-You painted me?" You say dumbfoundedly, "I thought you majored in graphic design."
He laughs, "I do but that's just for school. I paint in my free time."
"Choso you just saw my face for the first time a few hours ago, how the hell did you..."
"I honestly can't explain that," He says with a shrug, "When I got home I uh, couldn't get your face out of my head, and well, if I didn't draw or paint you I think I was gonna go crazy."
You study the art a little more. It's you but at a side profile, your gaze is downwards and you think for a second before you realize it's a painting of you as you were looking at his other art on his phone earlier. Choso painted an image of you from his perspective and boy was it beautiful.
There was predominantly black paint and he has this smudgy yet clean art style you don't think you've ever seen before.
"Choso that's beautiful, oh my god," You gasp, eyes wide and a smile prominent on your face.
You're so distracted by the canvas you're being shown that you miss as the man screenshots the reaction you have.
"You want it?" He offers simply.
You don't even know what to say, "Uhm, I dunno, i-it's your art."
"Yeah, but it's you."
"Kinda narcissistic for me to have a portrait of myself, don't you think?"
"Kinda stalkerish for me to have a portrait of a girl I just met, don't you think?" He asks in return, mocking you.
You giggle, "You're the one who decided to paint me."
"True. Alright then lemme ask this," He turns the phone back around to himself and you watch him sit back down, "Can I keep it?"
You blink. "It's your art."
"It's your face." The man fires back.
"I-," You sigh, "Yeah Choso, you can keep it."
He smiles, "Thanks."
"No, thank you. I didn't think I could look that good." You sigh, feeling all bubbly and light inside.
Choso tilts his head as he looks at his phone, "Have you seen yourself?"
"Don't give me that." You roll your eyes playfully, "Have you seen your art? You could make a pile of shit look good."
"I can't make anything look good, I can only work with the beauty that's already there."
Your voice gets caught in your throat for a second. When you swallow down the compliment he's given you, you can't stop yourself from smiling. "Y'know they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder right?"
"I'm aware. And in this case, I'm the beholder and you're someone I find beautiful." He responds.
Damn the way he's quick with all these comebacks. "I think your gaze is filtered." You say with a shrug.
You see him raise a brow, "By what?"
"I dunno, delusion."
Choso laughs wholeheartedly at you. "My gaze is delusional because I think you're beautiful? Wow."
For a long moment, you'd forgotten about everything again. You forgot about your rules, the list, the situation you're in-- all of it. For once, it felt peaceful, blissful even.
"I'm joking," You tell him, watching as he sighs in relief. "But on a serious note, thank you for this."
"For what? The painting?" Choso asks.
"Yeah, that and uh, calling me. You have some interesting timing."
"Oh yeah, no problem. I'm glad I made you feel better."
The way you and him have these little conversations so seamlessly is something you never want to end. He's so sweet and refreshing to talk to that you wish you could forget about the list and just run away with the man.
"Who says I was feeling bad...?" You reply to him.
Choso rolls his eyes, clearly seeing through you, "I don't like liars y'know..."
You pout, "Whatever."
"And I'm being for real, I'm glad I made you feel better. I uh, hope you and your friend fix things."
You scoff, "You wouldn't be saying that if you knew what he did."
"No, I would." Choso protests. He doesn't know the details but he's being genuine, "If whatever you guys were arguing about was enough to make you cry then, clearly you care about him."
Your head shakes slowly, "You don't have enough context on the situation to come to that conclusion."
"You didn't deny it-"
"I don't care about him." You cut off. "Trust me when I say, I hate him."
Choso chuckles at you. He didn't take your words seriously one bit. "Ehh, sounds like an enemies-to-lovers situation..." He comments with an innocent little shrug.
"Oh hell no, this isn't that." You assure the man.
He gives you a skeptical look, "You sure?"
"I'm positive."
"Damn." Choso blinks, "He really fucked up didn't he?"
"You have no idea."
"I wanna ask more buuut I don't wanna be nosy soo, m'kay." Choso results in saying. "Even so, I still hope you and him get through whatever it is you're going through."
You sigh, "I don't but, thanks Choso."
"No problem, princess." He says sweetly.
Fuck, he keeps catching you off-guard with that. It makes your brain get to stuttering and your face gets hot, "Don't call me that..."
"Why? It's fitting."
"No, it's not." You argue.
"Alright," He glances away to think before saying, "How about angel?"
You sigh, "Stop."
"Pretty girl?" He continues.
"Choso." You call.
He doesn't listen, "Doll? Baby?"
"You're still going..."
He pauses for a minute to think before uttering, "Sweetheart?"
Fuck that made you think of Gojo. You think your body freezes for a second at the thought of the man alone.
"Love?" Choso adds on, having no idea of your little history with these damn pet names.
"You can stop now," You say sternly. "Seriously."
"Alright, alright, my bad. I'll stick to the first one." He hums, "Unless you seriously don't like it...?"
The way he holds nothing but consistent care for your feelings toward things is truly endearing, "Nah, the first one's fine."
Choso nods, "Alright then princess, I'll talk to you later."
You're smiling all over again, "Bye Choso."
The two of you give a little wave to each other before the phone call comes to an end.
Oh, you definitely feel like a teenager all over again. The way he painted you the same day he met you, the way he speaks so charmingly to you, the way he... fuck it's everything about him
Scew Gojo and his shitty little promise of making things up to you, based on the one phone call you had with Choso-- there's nothing that white-haired bastard can do to fix the paining fact that your real chances with Choso are slim to none because you'd never be able to tell him about the list.
And god forbid the man finds out about it.
Butterflies are still stirring in your stomach, the feeling being the after-effect of talking to Choso. You don't want to like him but it's already difficult. You actually shouldn't and really can't like him.
You've gotta distance yourself going forward. You have to.
The question now is, will you be able to?
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GOJO SATORU ✔︎
GETO SUGURU ✔︎
TOJI FUSHIGURO ☐
KAMO CHOSO ☐
NANAMI KENTO ☐
??? SUKUNA ☐
??? NAOYA ☐
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mlist || previous chapt || next chpt
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ajortga · 2 months
Text
sweet pt.2
pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader
summary: jenna can't stop thinking about you, the coffee girl. she may or may not have asked you out on something her friends consider as a date.
word count: 3k+
read the other parts here! previous part: part 1 part 2 part 3
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It became sort of a habit for Jenna.
It would be music, think about you, eat, think about you, sleep, think about you, film, yay Jenna gets to see you!
Maybe she’s over exaggerating it, but at the same time she’s really not.
Jenna wasn’t the regular person to be a love bird. Head over heels for someone was barely something she was used to. Well sure she would pass some guys in the city or notice them on set and think, “Oh his hair is perfect” or “He’s kind of cute.” She’s dated a few guys, broke them off because they weren’t for her.
All of the guys only hung out with her knowing she was a celebrity, or she would really think they were the one, until they lost interest and treated her like some toy. She hated when they did that. In fact, she was disgusted by it so much that she didn’t even want to think of having a lasting relationship at all. She just had to find someone right for her.
-
“You’re awfully quiet,” Melissa nudges Jenna as they’re both in their Tara and Sam outfits.
Jenna hums, looking at the taller latina with a small roll of her eyes while their makeup is getting patched up, “Just hungry, I guess.”
She shifts in her seat, her earbuds in and waiting for this day to be over, she forgot an umbrella. Of course the forecast would show as non-stop rain the whole day with thunderstorms, she literally checked the day before and it said sunny.
“Well, we only have to shoot like, 5 scenes. You wanna go with Jas and Mason to the Italian place you like? On me.”
Tempting.
But Jenna’s mind has other plans. 
“I think I’m gonna drop by the coffee place next door, craving a latte you know?”
She sees the way Melissa’s face twitches upwards, almost as a confused yet searching look, “You don’t like coffee.”
“The shop changed my mind, Y/N recommended a latte that is actually really good.”
“Y/n you say?” And from Melissa’s sing-song voice, she knows what’s coming.
“Yes,” Jenna scoffs, she can feel her ears begin to heat up.
“I didn’t know you had a friend named Y/N.”
It’s a little quiet, the only noise is from Jenna’s half put in earbud, “I met her a couple days ago, she’s a barista that helps her parents run their coffee shop. Keeps the place cozy and organized.”
“So she’s a barista?”
“Yes,” Jenna replies, half distracted as she picks at her cuticles.
“Who helps run her parent’s coffee shop?”
“Yep.”
“Next door?”
“Uh huh.”
“You like her,” Melissa smirks, it’s not a question anymore.
“Yes-Wait what? No!” Jenna slaps Melissa’s arm, caught off guard.
Jenna hears her laugh, half-heartedly, “I’m just kidding, but you do seem out of it, are you thinking about her often?”
She shrugs, picking off skin that she just scratched.
“Well I think you are, you’re nervous.”
Now the daydreamer turns to face Melissa, “No I’m not, I just think she’s sweet and she’s someone that already brought me out of that introverted lookin’ shell when I first meet people.”
It was true. It’s like you two knew each other when you first met, she hopes you thought of her that way too. She hopes you’re thinking of her as much as she thinks about you everyday.
Melissa looks down at Jenna’s cuticles, then back up at her, “You’re thinking about her, you’ve been quiet today and don’t think I didn’t see what song you’re listening to. You never listen to love songs!”
“What?! I have not been listening to love songs!”
“Lover by Taylor Swift? Lingers by The Cranberries? About you by the 1975?  Dark Red by Steve Lacy??”
My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue
All's well that ends well to end up with you
Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover
“I just have taken interest in love songs I guess, it’s spring anyways right?”
“Spring my ass! That is bullshit!” Jasmine chimes in, making Jenna flinch and turn to the corner where Jas was hiding.”
“What the fuck Jas.. Are you eavesdropping?” Jenna shrieks.
“I know when a girl likes a girl,” Jas rolls her eyes and immediately stands up from her squatting position, “Don’t think me and Mason didn’t see you texting someone that you named mY y/N OOoO La lAAaAa..”
Jasmine shuts up with a slipper slapped into her face.
“Just go ask her out or something,” Mason says, popping behind Jasmine and getting the second pair of slippers thrown to his stomach, making him yelp.
“I barely even know her,”
“And there's no difference, you barely fall in love, girl, love at first sight for you means that she’s the one. You know your priorities and she checks all of them. If not, you wouldn’t be listening to those dumb love songs.”
“Gotta agree Jenna, what about this, we’ll go to the Italian restaurant first, then we’ll leave you alone with her in the coffee shop, you come out and tell us how it goes.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because you love us.”
“Ugh.”
-
The alfredo pasta was twirled from the fork Jenna was holding, eating as the cast of scream 6 giggled and talked during their lunch break. It was a big bowl of pasta to say the least, she shared it with the whole cast but she was eating it up like there was no tomorrow. She knew around this time she came to your cafe, she only came around two times, but if you didn’t see her on a Thursday in the afternoon, she can almost feel the disappointment you might feel. Or hopes you feel, Jenna’s wondering to herself if you even think of her.
“Oh she’s falling hard for this silly Y/N girl,” Jasmine whispers to Melissa, to which she agrees almost immediately.
“No I’m not,” Jenna blurts, placing down her fork.
Everyone in the table clicks their tongue, a few, “Oh come on” and “Liar!”
“Well you wouldn’t have responded, we’ve been talking to you for the past 5 minutes and you only jerk your head when you hear anything about her!” Jasmine groans, showing her hands if they would somehow present something.
She signals for the check, she quickly pays, and as soon as that happens her real life core four push her out of the restaurant and to the outside of the coffee shop, like parents.
“Go,” Jenna’s shoulder was pushed into the door and it was too late to go back as she heard the familiar bell ring.
“I hate you Jas,” her hands flip the 3 people giggling behind the foggy window behind her as she hears the voice she’s been thinking about the whole day.
“Jenna!” Your tiny figure pops out from the coffee bean machine, waving to her happily.
Cute, she thinks to herself. You’re so cute.
“Almost thought you wouldn’t come today,” you murmur, making Jenna shake her head.
“Just had some lunch with friends, but I couldn't miss out on coffee on Thursdays though.”
“Ah,” you hum, your eyes focused on the latte art you were working on.
The only noise is the r&b music and the small chatter that keeps the environment comforting. 
A small bunny was being created, pouring the creamer carefully. 
“You’re almost looking as tiny and cute as that bunny,” your co-worker, Matteo says, a few feet away from you.
A soft laugh erupts in your throat, rolling your eyes from his compliment, but thanking him nonetheless. Jenna doesn’t know if she’s feeling a strong pit of jealousy that sizzles beneath the back of her mind. Her eyes train on the boy, hazel eyes, brunette hair. 
“Okay okay, stop that,” you grumble, a small smile plastered on your face as you playfully nudge him to show your annoyance.
“Feisty,” he chides.
“The only thing I did differently today is that I curled my hair. You can barely see it in this ponytail,” one hand is pointing to your hair while the other keeps concentrating on the bunny.
“You’re also wearing a bow, your freckles are more visible, mmm,” he thinks for a moment, “Oh and,” he comes closer, whispering in your ear so only you can hear. Your body almost shivers from it, “You’re staring at a new coming regular and smiling like a weird teenager.”
You stop your latte art, groaning in frustration since you were caught by a coworker that also is a kind friend of yours.
“No I’m not, stop whispering in my ear and let me do my latte art,” you shove him away and continue to work on your bunny.
Jenna swallows the prickly feeling in her throat, feeling herself scowl at some guy who’s name tag seems to say, “Mat ear.” Maybe she should switch out acting with latte art for a day.
The bunny looks complete. 
And perfect, you exhale a breath from pride, slide the latte and call out the person’s order with a warm smile.
Then Jenna feels like a fool standing there because she just realized that she’s been staring at you making another person’s latte. Then you feel stupid for not sending someone over to serve her since you’re assuming that she wanted something.
“Sorry!” You apologize, smacking the top of your head as you lean across the countertop, “Hi Jenna, did you want something?” Jenna looks down at your lips for a moment, your teeth tugged on your bottom lip, then trails back up to the menu.
“No worries, I should’ve sat down, I just wanted to visit I guess. Sure. Um,” She doesn’t know what to get.
“Confused again huh?” You tease, looking at the menu then at the lattes. It makes her almost fan herself to know that you know she wants a latte today.
It takes a moment for you to think, “I don’t even think I put this up on our menu, but the other day when I was closing I tried a hazelnut caramel, you down to try that today?”
“That sounds pleasing, sure I’ll take that.”
“Okay, one hazelnut caramel!”
“Dude, I swear your cafe sells at least every pastry known to mankind. Those brownies and chocolate chip cookies look like it could make society salivatate.”
You laugh, “Thanks silly, I just experiment and make sure everyone in NYC can have a taste of home if they are from somewhere else. Sometimes I take my recipes from a past generation baking book, other times I just try baking from eyeing measurements.”
Jenna smiles at that, touching your hand with hers and pressing it down to the counter, “Well trust me, this is probably why you get a hell load of customers every morning.”
A light-hearted, non-forced, soft giggle comes from you, not moving your hand that is pressed from hers.
“As long as it makes others happy and continues a legacy while doing other things I love, and meeting sweet people that mark my memory like you, I think that I wouldn’t trade it. Did you want anything else?”
“I think that’s it today,” Jenna breathes, moving her hand away from yours. Immediately your hand misses the warmth and just wants to pull her back.
She can’t help but notice the smile plastered on your face, “Okay, hazelnut caramel coffee, on the house.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Nuh uh, not on my watch,” Jenna insists, pulling out a 10 dollar bill and immediately you shoo her away.
“On me! Honest! I own this place anyways and it happens at least twice everyday, don’t worry about it love.”
She hears a small “aww” come from her phone and she freezes, her cheeks heating up in an instant.
“I’m paying you one day,”
“If it’s banterings and consistent times that I see you besides Tuesdays and Thursdays, then okay,” your voice echoes as you begin to prepare her latte.
Jenna smiles at you and as soon as she turns around she picks up her phone and curses into it, “What the hell Jas? How the hell did you manage to call me before I got into the shop and stalk into our conversation??”
Snorts and laughs come from the other line, she immediately plugs her earphones in.
“On the house, hmm??” Mason teases, everyone in unison going “ooh la la..” 
“I’m going to chop your heads off-”
“And of course you place your hands on top of hers!! It’s like watching the corniest romance in front of my eyes!”
It had only been 5 minutes that Jenna had talked with you, and somehow she still got stuck and caught by her friends.
“Shut up,” Jenna says, her voice soft, but grumpily as she scoffs.
Melissa, Mason, and Mindy are shouting from outside, she can hear them screaming through the phone.
“Hey,” you say softly, bringing her latte with two wrapped pastries in hand and slide it to her front, “Try the brownies and cookies you were looking at and tell me what you think?”
Jenna wants to keep her cool and to smile politely, but the three crazy people outside that are listening in are making it hard. Especially with all the kissing noises she can hear, so she takes out her earbuds and tosses them in her hoodie’s pocket.
It takes her a while to realize she didn’t buy the pastries that made her hungry.
“Seriously?” 
The way your cheeks curved upwards and your nose scrunched as you smiled made Jenna smile on the spot there, “Seriously,” you assured. 
“I hate you for this,” she says playfully, sarcastically.
“Who can hate two free pastries? That’s a win for me,” you pull the chair out, sitting down as you take a small break, exhaling.
There was a cute cat design on the hazelnut caramel latte, the steaming, sweet bitterness scent that wafts in the air makes Jenna shiver. She plays with the wrapping of the chocolate chip cookie before mumbling a soft, “Thank you.”
“Mmmhm, no problem.”
There's a quiet pause, Jenna sips her latte, looking up at you and seeing you giggle. It’s sweet, light, bitter, and perfect.
You hand her a napkin, there's a small white foaming mustache from the creamer.
It takes a moment as she takes the napkin before you speak again, “So, filming mm? Is it stressful, you know, having to wake up early and doing stuff like that?”
“Honestly, there are days where it can be too much and I need to wind down a bit. But I love seeing cameras and doing something that I have the fortunate privilege of doing, I know a lot of people don’t have that and it makes me grateful.”
You hum in response, nodding, playing with the nape of your shirt.
“I used to want to act and direct,” you smile.
“Really? Why not now?”
Your shoulders shrug, “I still do small stuff, holding cameras, auditioning for stuff, it’s just a little harder since I’m working here and making sure I can continue doing, you know, this. But I love working here, it heals something in me.”
It makes Jenna feel almost bad, not in an overly guilty way. She just can’t fathom feeling pressured to do something instead of going the way you want.
“You have coworkers, you don’t have to be here everyday, you know?” She tilts her head.
Her eyes meet yours, and again she sees those doe eyes, with nothing but something to make her own self melt.
But I'm in so deep
You know, I'm such a fool for you
You got me wrapped around your finger
Do you have to let it linger? 
“I know, sometimes I’m afraid this place will go haywire.”
She giggles at that, then thinks for a moment, “You know, I get on set tomorrow at 11, which is later than most days. Do you wanna, you know, just come and look around? The directors and producers are the sweetest people I know and they don’t mind a plus one. I would like, show you around and you can reach out to some people.”
It’s silent, your face is thoughtful as you’re processing what she said.
“I’ll stick by your side the whole time we’re not filming, introduce you to the cast, as long as you don’t do anything silly, which I highly doubt you might.”
“Okay, I’ll have to check in with Matteo, ask him to bring his sister that comes in on Saturdays and switch it to tomorrow.”
The brunette feels her heart flipping and she nods, burying her face in her hands to try and stop the redness that is invading her cheeks.
You come back soon later, beginning to talk about the plan of the coffee shop tomorrow, but Jenna gets distracted, it’s hard seeing Jasmine blowing her breath on the window, making hearts, then wiping the fog and seeing the way all her friends are making dreamy gestures to mock her. They’re all dancing and she wants to flip them off.
“I’ll be there tomorrow, could you by, um any chance, pick me up? I usually walk here and get my car repaired.”
Oh fuck, Jenna thinks, because she get’s picked up by Jasmine and tomorrow Melissa and Mason will be joining, like they do twice a week. She wants to face palm, she can almost picture the way when you make conversation with her in the car tomorrow, she’ll see in the corner of her eye Mason batting his eyelashes and sticking his tongue out.
“Sure, if you’re okay with some of my crazy friends.”
“Tomorrow it is,” you say, waving and ruffling your hair before waving and walking back to work.
Jenna looks down at her earbuds and she completely forgot she didn’t end the call, she just stashed it away, she’s bearing what is to come, putting her earbuds back in.
“SHE’S ASKING HER OUT ON A DATE” (Mason)
“NO WAY” (Jas)
“SHE’S A FOOL” (Jas)
“SHE’S GOING TO GET EMBARRASSED TOMORROW.” (Jas)
Not to mention the way they are waving their hands outside, she can almost hear the screaming from here.
“There’s no way in hell you asked this sweet pretty girl to come on set tomorrow,” Melissa sing-songs.
“Paws off,” she grumbles.
“She wants her for herself, of course.”
“Shut up!”
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casiia · 1 year
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OMG OMG OKAY HEAR ME OUT. ghostface ethan edging reader after reader receives a phone call from him…!!?!?!?!!!
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[ 𝐨𝐧 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞 ੈ✩‧₊˚ ]
pairing .: ethan landry x reader
genre .: suggestive content
word count .: 2k
warnings .: smut-ish (minors dni.), contains scream XI spoilers! scream plotline, threatening, mentions of a knife, soooo unedited, kissing, lingering touches, dry humping
author's note .: maybe planning on making another part to this <3 i have no idea if this is what was actually requested, but i had a lot of fun writing this! took a massive break from writing and i think i’m back, this is probably very ooc and might make no sense but i have zero experience writing thriller things like this idk. dialogue was used from the 1995 (or 7) scream movie. accepting constructive criticism, reblogs are appreciated. 
© casiia 2023 DO NOT REPOST OR PLAGIARIZE MY WORK
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“hey, pretty girl.”
pulling the phone away from your ear confused, you checked your screen to see who was on the other line, frowning slightly when you saw no contact.
“who is this?” setting the home phone back on it’s stand, you let the call ring out on speaker, turning your attention back to the stove.
“there’s no fun in telling you who i am just yet, why don’t you answer a few of my questions first.”
rolling your eyes, you shook the pot once more before turning to lean against the counter, the buttery smell of popcorn filling your nose. “why should i do that?” speaking over the loud crackles and pops coming from the fire, you moved around the island to grab a bowl.
“it’ll be fun. so tell me, what’s your favorite scary movie?”
“hm, i don’t know.” pouring the yellow kernels into the large bowl, you popped a few pieces into your mouth with a satisfied hum. grabbing the phone and turning it off speaker, you pressed it between your ear and shoulder, balancing the device steadily. “maybe, halloween? think that’s the one where that guy stalks the babysitters.”
“you think it was scary?”
“i guess, anyways. tell me who you are now.” ungraciously falling onto the couch, you picked at the pieces of popcorn that had fallen into your lap, licking your lips with a smile as a salty taste covered your tastebuds.
“can’t do that princess, haven’t finished asking my questions.”
“then hurry up and ask them already.” annoyance showing on your face, you reached across the many throw pillows and grabbed the remote —  clicking through the channels with disinterest, before going to browse your downloaded pick of scary movies.
“you got a boyfriend?”
eyebrows raising in shock, you stilled with a quiet laugh. “why, wanna ask me out on a date or what.” you teased the person on the other line, shifting in your seat as you began to ponder who you were really talking to.
“we’ll see, do you have a boyfriend?”
“no.” placing the overflowing bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, you stood to make way to your room, keeping the chunky phone against your ear.
“that’s a shame, such a pretty one you are.”
biting back a smile, you switched the light to your room on; bending down to open your drawer of pajamas, you tossed an oversized shirt onto your neatly made bed. “you gonna be this charming to me when i find out who you are?”
“maybe.”
“got anymore questions for me, or can i start guessing who this is.” unbuttoning your jeans, you kicked the pair of uncomfortable pants off . turning the speaker back on, you tossed the phone onto your pillow, pulling your tank top up and over your head before slipping on the big shirt.
“go ahead, you’re giving me such a good show.”
“what are you talking about?” picking up the dirty clothes that you had left stranded on your floor, you walked into your connecting bathroom, putting the clothes in your dirty hamper.
“hm, that’s a nice shirt you’re wearing. where did you get it?”
eyes widening in surprise, you slowly turned back into your bedroom, your knuckles white as you gripped onto the phone. “can you see me?”
“ah what a good girl! putting her brain to some use.”
“if you can really see me, how many fingers am i holding up?” walking up to your window, you peered outside trying to get a good look. sticking out your middle finger, you squinted as you stared into your dark backyard, trying to piece together unfamiliar shadows. 
“funny, one.”
“shit.” shutting your blinds in hurry, you stumbled out of your room, quickly heading back downstairs. “who is this, jason?”
“from econ? no.” 
“you better leave me alone, my boyfriend is coming over soon.” closing the blinds to your backdoor, you shuffled into your kitchen, grabbing a large knife. “he’s strong, s-so get out of here!” 
“i thought you said you didn’t have a boyfriend?” 
“w-well i lied!” locking your front door, you turned down all the lights, curling into a corner, knife in hand. your breath was ragged, eyes darting from place to place in worry. “tell me who you are before i call the police.”
“quit being such a brat, the fun isn’t over just yet.”
chewing on your lip, tears lined your waterline as fear overtook you. anxiety creeping up your throat with every shallow breath you took. “this isn’t funny.” you flinched at the loud noise emitting from the buzzing device, a staticy and robotic laugh filling the eerily quiet apartment. 
“you look so cute with that knife. what’re you gonna do, stab me?”
“show yourself, you coward!” standing from the hardwood floor, you paced around the kitchen, blinking away any tears that threatened to spill down your pink cheeks. frustration and anger burning in your chest, when the anonymous caller laughed again.
“careful what you wish for.”
a loud ringing echoes from the phone as the call ends, the wind whistling against the windows has you whipping your head to each sudden noise. pressing yourself up against the wall, the knife that you held a safe distance away from you.
“where are you, motherfucker.” your voice just barely above a whisper, you jumped at the sound of your doorknob rattling – a fist loudly knocking against the wood of your door. “go away! i’ll kill you.”
“baby? hey, what’s going on it’s just me.”
“ethan?” letting the knife drop to the marble of your kitchen countertop, you winced at the loud clang. running to your front door, you stood on the tip of your toes, peering through the peak hole to see your boyfriend awkwardly standing in front of you. twisting the lock, you threw the door open before jumping into his arms.
“what’s wrong? did you forget i was coming or something?” pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, he circles his arms around your waist with a hesitant laugh. 
“no- no. this guy just prank called me, i was so scared.” pressing your face into his shoulder, you gripped onto his coat, muffled sobs racking from your chest. “he saw me, ethan.” 
“no, pretty, don't cry. i’m sure it was just some sick joke.” gently pulling you away from his tearstained coat, he cradled your face in the palm of his hand; wiping your wet cheeks, he pressed a light kiss in between your brows. “relax, no one’s gonna hurt you as long as i’m here.” 
“can you stay the night?” leaning into his touch, you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer to you. “don’t think i can sleep without you.” twirling his thick brown hair between your fingers, you sighed heavily, relaxing in his embrace. 
“of course, i was planning on it anyway.” adjusting the bag on his shoulder, he squeezed your hip once nudging you inside your apartment. “don’t want these creeps lookin at you, especially without pants.”
shaking your head with a smile, you wiped your remaining tears with the back of your hand, sniffling quietly and shuffling back inside. “lock it, please.” grabbing his bag, you tossed it onto the sofa, the sound of a lock clicking easing your shoulders.
“you were really scared, huh.” ethan laughs at the abandon knife on the counter, picking it up and putting it back with the other collection of cooking knives. 
“i was, that was the creepiest interaction i’ve ever had.” dragging your hands down your face with a huff, you walked over to your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around his torso and pressing your face into his back. “y’should jus’ move in with me.” your words muffled, you felt his chest rise and fall with another laugh.
“i was the one that made that request, i’d rather live with you than chad.” he loosened your arms around him, dragging you around his body so you were caged between him and the counter. “i am really sorry you had to go through that, did you call the police?” 
“no, i think there are worse things to worry about. it was just some silly call.” rubbing your arms nervously, you took a deep breath, reassuring yourself of any crazy thoughts. “i don’t want to talk about it anymore, how was your day?” pulling yourself up on the countertop, you shuddered lightly when your bare skin met with the cool marble. 
“uninteresting, just caught up in some classes, i missed you a lot.” moving in between your legs, he dragged his fingers against your thigh, teasing the hem of your shirt higher up your leg. “is this mine? i’ve been looking for it.” inching his hand up your shirt, he squeezed your hip, his thumb trailing along the lace of your panties. 
“mhm, it’s comfortable. didn’t think you’d miss it much.” sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you placed your hands on his chest, drawing little circles into his shirt. looking up at him through your lashes, you licked your lips, your fingers settling at the base of his neck. “ethan…”
“what is it, baby.” bringing his other hand up to your cheek, he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “want me to stop?” moving to retract his hand that found it’s way under your shirt, he looked down at you with worried eyes, scared that he had read the room wrong. 
“no! no. i want you, ethan.” grabbing his wrist, you bring his large hands back to your body, leaning forward to press a sweet kiss to his collarbone. “do you— do you want me?” guiding his hands under your shirt, you whined softly, his cold fingers grazing your stomach. 
“oh fuck.” mumbling under his breath, he pressed his lips to your forehead, glancing down at your exposed panties; pretty and pink, decorated with a white lace, a small bow stitched right in the center. 
“gonna answer my question?” trailing along the seam of his belt, you played with the hem of his shirt, your lips lingering on his skin with every word you mumbled. 
“i do, baby. let me make you feel good.” rubbing up and down your sides with a light chuckle, he gently patted your waist. “you deserve it, such a good girl.” 
tugging at the collar of his thick coat, you pressed your soft lips to his with a happy hum, your fingers entangling in his curly brunette hair. swiping your tongue against his bottom lip, you brought your hand up to cup his jaw, pulling him impossibly closer to you. 
ethan grinned against your lips, snaking his arm around your waist to grind his clothed crotch against your damp panties. “s’wet for me, haven’t even done anything to you yet.”
gasping into his mouth at the roll of his hips, you squeezed your thighs around his waist yearning for more. “please, ethan.” your words blurred together as you continued to kiss him – you tugged lightly on his hair with a mewl, the bulge showing in his jeans nudging your clit.
“so needy, can’t wait–”
a deafening ring cuts him off, his phone softly buzzing in the pocket of his jacket. letting your hands fall from his hair and atop of his shoulders, you shook your head with concern. “ethan, no.”
“relax, i bet it’s just chad.” giving your thigh a reassuring squeeze, he reaches into his pocket, pulling out the red phone. tilting his screen, he showed you the number on the screen, one that he had not previously saved. “recognize it?”
“no, i wasn’t shown a number.” anxiously playing with your fingers, you kept your eyes glued to the vibrating phone. “put it on speaker.”
nodding at your request, you watched him accept the call, letting it play out loud. “who is this?” 
“hello, ethan. what’s your favorite scary movie?”
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🏷 .: @loaksbitch @sullybby @vmptears my stinky ethan landry apologist
3K notes · View notes
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Your stories and images are beyond incredible. My favorite blog on tumblr BY FAR. Truly incredible work. I guess it’s kind of selfish, so absolutely so absolutely no worries, at the very least I got to tell you how much I appreciate and love your content. But I’m a short, nerdy, thin, art student in college right now. I’m tired of being in the closet, I’m tired of being a push over, Im tired of being weak and submissive, I’m tired of being a virgin, and I wanna change. Maybe you could help with a story by turning me into one of those jaw dropping beautiful confident men that you make the pictures of, I would very much appreciate it. But no worries if you can’t, I just love your content!
Confidence
Nathaniel sighed quietly, as he came over his hairless stomach. Of course, he had to be quiet! The dorm walls were paper-thin, and he certainly didn't want the guys from the neighboring dorm rooms to hear him. He looked at the website once more, with the story and the hot buff men before he closed the incognito browser tab and proceeded to clean himself up.
When he looked into the bathroom mirror, he sighed again, but this time, it was a sigh of sadness. There really wasn't anything remotely impressive about him. He was thin and weak, and pathetic really. If it wasn't for his lack of boobs and his sorry excuse for a dick, he could very well pass as a woman. In fact, he had been mistakenly called "Madame" more than once, and one time, he had even been asked "how his transition was going".
No, Nathan was a cis man, just not a very impressive one. He was gay, of course, and loved to look at 'real' men while jerking his small cock. Most of the time, he fantasized about some hairy brute rough-handling him, pushing his face against the bed and fucking his tiny ass into submission. However, even though the thought was exciting to Nathan, he even more wished to *be* such a man. The rational part of Nathan knew that both fantasies would not happen anytime, though. It was physically impossible to just *become* a 'real man', and it was impossible for Nathan to even admit to anyone that he was gay. So, he would probably just stay a closeted virgin forever - doomed to masturbate to some kinky stories he was so embarrassed about that he only dared to look at them from an incognito browser tab.
He sighed a third time when he crawled into bed. Perhaps someday he would accept his fate.
Nathan was already almost asleep when he heard the firework starting outside. Right. It was New Year’s Eve. What a way to start the new year.
The next morning, Nathan was feeling a bit better. Of course, his deep-rooted unhappiness still lingered within him, but Nathan decided to try and enjoy the day. He liked new year’s days. Everyone usually was at home after having celebrated the whole night which meant that the world outside was very quiet. Not much happened on New Year’s Day.
Nathan decided to go to a nearby cafe. There, with a steaming mug of hot chocolate next to him, he got out his drawing utensils and looked around the place. There weren't too many people. An older couple sat together, the man reading a book, and the woman reading a magazine, while an elderly lady sat at the counter. She was probably the owner. However, there was one more guy, a young adult like Nathan, who sat on a nearby table all by himself and was playing on his phone. He had his chair tilted back a bit, stabilizing himself against the wall and rocking a bit. He had earphones in his ear, so he was probably listening to music while doing so.
Nathan's first instinct was to draw the old couple, but then he looked at the other young man again. He looked a bit like one of those men from the internet, the kind that Nathan would fantasize about. Just a bit. The other man wasn't burly and muscular and assertive, but instead he had a lean, fit build. Nathan was a bad judge of character, especially without having spoken to the person in question, but the young man didn't look particularly assertive or dominant either. So, all in all, not too much like the men Nathan longed for on the internet. But still, he had a certain charm to him. Nathan liked the fit, lean body and the aura of positivity the man seemed to exude and wanted to capture that on paper.
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Nathan began sketching the man, while occasionally looking up, making sure the man wouldn't notice. However, it was hard to keep his eyes off the guy. Every now and then, he would laugh a bit or make a funny face when watching something on his phone, which Nathan couldn't help but find very attractive.
He was just working on drawing the man's hands, when Nathan suddenly heard someone address him.
"Hey, what are you drawing?" The voice didn't sound rude or unfriendly, but plainly interested. Still, Nathan flinched visibly. The attractive man on the other table had removed one earplug and turned towards Nathan.
"Uh, sorry?" stuttered Nathan, not quite sure how to react. The guy pointed at Nathan's drawing pad and smiled: "You're an artist?"
Nathan could feel the blood rushing to his face. The drawing pad was tilted towards Nathan, so his unvoluntary model could not have seen what exactly Nathan was drawing. He could - no, he should - just lie and tell him he was sketching something in the room. But he just couldn't think of anything and the time for a good answer was running out. Almost involuntarily, Nathan stuttered, with his head red like a tomato: "Uhm, yeah, kind of. I was sketching you, actually."
The guy laughed a short and friendly laugh: "Really? Cool! Can I see it?"
Nathan could feel his heartbeat quicken, and his face got even redder. This was so embarrassing! But he couldn't very well refuse now, could he? So, he placed the pad flat on the table, just as the guy came over and sat himself down on Nathan's table.
"Oh wow!", he sounded impressed. "You're really talented! It's like looking into a mirror."
"Thanks" - Nathan hated getting compliments. Not only didn't he know how to react to them, but he also found them mostly fake. He was an art student, but he wasn't that good really, at least in his own opinion. In the dictionary, there was probably a picture of Nathan right next to the entry for "Imposter Syndrome".
"But why are you drawing me?" Although Nathan had feared that this question might come up, he didn't have a good lie to answer it. It was almost as if his mouth was acting on its own, when Nathan heard himself stammer: "Uh, eh, it's because I... I find you quite handsome actually. Good-looking I mean."
Nathan wished for nothing more than to be swallowed by the earth here and now. But to his big surprise, the guy just laughed again and said: "You think so? Thanks! The name's Oliver by the way." Oliver had, apparently, much less of a problem taking a compliment.
"Nathan." said Nathan and started to relax a tiny bit. However, the situation suddenly got even worse, when Oliver continued, in the same light-hearted voice. "Nice to meet you, Nathan! Are you into guys?"
Nathan froze solid. He hadn't expected that. And even worse, the answer was, of course, yes. But there was no way he could say that, was there? So, instead, he just stared at Oliver with his eyes wide open and a deer-in-headlights look.
"I mean, I'm gay - are you as well?" Oliver explained. "With the whole drawing dudes and all."
Nathan's brain had stopped working properly, so he couldn't help but nod and mumble a faint "yes".
Oliver's smile broadened and he said: "Really? Cool!"
Nathan's mind was racing. He had just admitted his homosexuality. To a complete stranger. Out of the blue. He didn't plan to come out that way, it just... happened.
A moment of awkward silence radiated from Nathan, but, thankfully, Oliver salvaged the situation pretty elegantly.
"Listen Nathan, I'll have to run now. But are you free tomorrow around 2? We could grab a coffee and you could show me some of your drawings if you like."
A spark of bravery, completely foreign to him, awakened in Nathan and he answered: "Y-yes. I think I would like that."
Oliver smiled another of his broad smiles. "Awesome! Let's meet here then tomorrow!"
With that, Oliver nodded at Nathan and left the cafe, putting in his headphone again while humming happily.
Did that really just happen? Nathan looked from the unfinished drawing towards the cafe door. Did he really just... got invited to a date? With a handsome guy named Oliver? Nathan wasn't sure whether to be happy or not. On the one hand, it was a miracle, a once in a lifetime opportunity. A cute and hot guy was actually interested in him! But on the other hand, there was no way he could make a good impression. How desperate had that Oliver guy to be to actually ask *him* out?
A small voice in his head insisted that he could just not show up tomorrow and avoid the whole disappointment. But the spark of bravery was still there, and Nathan fought down the feeling. No, he was going to show. If it turned out to be a disaster, he could still flee the scene - it wasn't like Oliver knew literally anything about him.
Nathan quickly packed his things and returned to his dorm room. Once he arrived, he noticed that he was completely covered in sweat of fear. His shirt showed wet spots under his arms and felt cold to the touch. Disgusted, Nathan immediately went for a shower. Only there, standing under the hot steamy water, Nathan could appreciate what happened. He got *asked out*. On a *date*. With a *guy*. Yesterday he had been certain he would die alone and lonely but then, today, he got *asked out*. Was this really a thing? Did it really happen?
He wasn't sure. He had a hard time believing it. Perhaps the whole thing was just a weird dream? A figment of his imagination. But no. The half-finished drawing was proof enough that Oliver really existed.
When Nathan exited the shower cabin, the whole bathroom was covered in steam, blinding the mirrors. Perhaps this - or the spinning of his thoughts - was the reason that he didn't notice that his hair had changed. Instead of his usual medium length brown-ish hair, he now sported a much shorter hairstyle - in a much darker color, almost black. Be it as it may - Nathan had other things on mind than checking his hair. He spent the whole afternoon and even the evening researching on how to make a good impression on a first date.
The next morning, Nathan slept in, which was pretty unusual for him. His whole frame felt weird, when he crawled out of bed. It wasn't too late, either - he had a comfortable 3 hours until the date. When he passed the bathroom mirror on his morning routine, however, he stopped for a moment. Something was... off about his face. His hair. It looked kind of... different?
Nathan stared at his reflection for a few seconds, straining his mind. Somehow, the shape of his jawbone seemed unfamiliar. And was his hair always that dark, almost black?
Finally, he shook his head. No, he was just seeing things. Of course, that was as it always had been. After having finished his bathroom business, Nathan went for a shower and prepared himself.
An hour later, he stood in front of the mirror, trying out a bunch of outfits and felt slight panic rising inside of him. None of his clothes fit very well, it was like he was cursed! It wasn't that his shirts and pants were much too big or much too small, but for some reason none of his clothes really felt comfortable. Both his favorite shirt and his usual jeans felt somewhat constricting today. Finally, Nathan just put on an outfit, and left his room.
When he entered the cafe, Oliver was already sitting there, two coffee mugs in front of him. He smiled, waved and gestured for Nathan to join him.
"Hello, Nathan!"
"H-hi." said Nathan, his nervousness returning.
"Here, I bought you a coffee!" Oliver pushed one of the mugs over the table.
"Thanks." Nathan was somewhat distracted by the ill-fitting clothes, and he could pretty much feel the nervous sweat practically pouring out of his pores.
"No problem!", said Oliver. "I was early, anyway. How are you doing today?"
"Fine." said Nathan and took a sip of his coffee, trying to hide his nervousness. He vividly remembered all the good advice he had read yesterday, but all that felt just impossible to him.
"So, you're an artist? What do you do?" Oliver asked with genuine interest.
"Well, I study art, I guess. I want to be a concept artist, you know, for games or movies or so. But, eh, right now, I'm just a student, and I'm not really that good."
"That's not how I remember it!" smiled Oliver. "Can you show me more of your work?"
Nathan nodded as he got out his sketchbook. Talking about his art was something he was comfortable with and allowed him to warm up somewhat over the course of the conversation. Oliver appeared to be quite a nice guy and had a lot of questions about drawing, so, Nathan, in turn, started to relax and talk more freely. He found out that Oliver was a veterinary technician and had a part time job at a dog shelter. That, combined with the fact that he was, in general, a really nice and positive guy, made him incredibly appealing to Nathan.
After the two had talked for a while, Oliver suddenly remarked: "You know, I really like your stubble! It really suits you!"
Stubble? What was he talking about? Nathan rarely needed to shave, but he had done so this morning, so, it was absolutely impossible that he should have visible facial hair. And yet, as he felt his chin, his fingers met with bristly short hair, so dense and long that there was no way he could have missed it this morning. Nathan found it strange, to say the least, but didn't want to make a scene in this situation. His spark of courage was a small candle flame now, as he just smiled while he felt his chin and said "Thank you!"
The two continued to chat a bit. While doing so, Nathan tried not to think too much about the fact that his clothes were, somehow, tighter than before.
Finally, Oliver's phone buzzed, and he looked at the screen.
"Damn, it's that late already?"
"What is it?", asked Nathan.
"Oh, the dog shelter. I have a shift soon, I need to go!"
Nathan sighed inwardly. He was really enjoying the date and didn't want it to end. He was pulled out of his thoughts by the feeling of Olivers hand on his. It felt... good. Good and strange, like the texture of his own hand was somewhat wrong, somewhat rougher than before. When he looked up into Oliver's eyes, he found the other man smiling.
"I really enjoyed this. You are a wonderful person, Nathan. We should do this again."
Nathan nodded. He didn't trust his voice right now.
"How about... tomorrow?", Oliver continued. "There's an art exhibition in town, perhaps you would like to go there with me?"
Nathan's heart jumped a beat. He didn't have time or courage yet to go to the exhibition and the prospect of seeing Oliver again so soon was wonderful.
"I would very much like that", Nathan replied and smiled.
"Great! Let's meet there, say at 5?"
"Sure!"
Oliver smiled his beautiful, broad smile, and stood up, leaving some money for the coffees on the table. Nathan too got up, but before he could leave, Oliver stopped him with a warm expression in his eyes. "You know, I really think I like you a lot." He said, and his hand touched Nathan's somewhat bristly cheek. Almost automatically, both of their faces drew closer to each other, until their lips met with the slightest touch. It was a chaste, short kiss, but Nathan could feel Oliver's lips smile when they broke apart.
"See you tomorrow!", said Oliver and left the cafe.
Nathan's knees felt weak, and his heart was beating rapidly. There were a thousand feeling, all happening inside him at once and Nathan needed a moment to sort through them before he was able to move again. There was a part of him that couldn't quite believe what just happened, but the biggest part was just euphoric. He basically jogged back to his home, full of a never experienced energy.
When he arrived in his room, his body was feeling even weirder than before. All of his clothes were way too tight. It was not just that he felt constricted, no, the clothes actually were much too small. He quickly got rid of them, noticing that, again, he had sweated like a pig. As Nathan glanced down on himself, he could almost see that his body was somehow different. Fitter, healthier. It was probably just his imagination, though, caused by his ecstatic mood. He briefly considered taking another shower but postponed it to tomorrow. There would be plenty of time and Nathan felt really glad and tired for today.
Nathan woke up from two different feelings the next morning. First, he felt itchy and sweaty all over his body and was subconsciously scratching himself in his sleep. Second, and perhaps even more importantly, Nathan was experiencing a severe case of morning wood. His manhood was rigid and pulsating under his sheets and was begging for attention. Nathan had a hard time remembering when he last experienced such an urgent urge to jerk off. He wasn't sure, but the memories of their kissing yesterday came to his mind as soon as he woke up, so, he couldn't resist closing his hand around his hard cock and started pumping. His hand felt rough and big, and Nathan couldn't be sure, but both length and girth of his tool seemed increased, too. However, Nathan could hardly concentrate on that due to the waves of pleasure washing over him.
It didn't take very long for Nathan to shoot a big load onto his stomach, with a moan. It was a big and sticky load, too, mixing with the little dark hairs on his stomach and chest. Nathan blinked in post-nut clarity. Hairs? He didn't have body hair.
Nathan got up quickly and went to the bathroom. Something about his perspective was off, too. It was like the ceiling was closer than it was supposed to be, and the ground further away. Once Nathan had used some toilet paper to wipe away most of the cum, he took a look at himself in the mirror. There was no denying that he looked different. He was definitely somewhat taller and broader than before. He didn't have a scale, but he was sure that he had gained quite some weight as well - not only due to the increased height and broader shoulders but also because his previous stickman-like appearance had been altered quite somewhat. All over his frame, a lean definition was visible, hinting at muscles even. His chin was covered in visible stubble and there was a bit of body hair visible, mainly on his chest and stomach as well as peeking out under his armpit.
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Speaking of which, as Nathan raised his arm to look at his pits, a certain smell reached his nose. A musky, manly, slightly sweaty odor that wasn't quite unpleasant but was certainly unfamiliar.
Nathan had a hard time wrapping his mind around what he was seeing. There was no denying he looked *good*. He just didn't look exactly like *himself*. And for some reason, this didn't bother Nathan quite as much as it probably should. He should be panicking or calling a doctor. People didn't just grow taller overnight or put on definition without working out. And yet, Nathan only felt a slight bit of curiosity and a weak impulse that he probably *should* work out then.
Nathan shook his head and went back to his bedroom. He didn't bother putting on clothing and tried to pass the time until afternoon. The only thing that he *really* regretted about his sudden changes was that his favorite shirt and jeans would definitely not fit anymore.
He ended up watching a bit of TV and browsing the internet, before he decided it was time to prepare himself. Finding clothes that would fit now proved to be quite a challenge, but in the end, he settled on a plain t-shirt and some cargo pants. He had bought both of them a number too big by mistake, which came in quite handy now.
Walking through the city was a strange experience. He felt good about himself and held his head high. Combined with the fact that Nathan's head was, indeed, higher than before, it was like seeing the city in a whole new perspective. Less looking at the ground and more looking straight ahead.
His new posture seemed to have another effect, too. Where before he had to avoid people, trying not to get in their way, now they seemed to be stepping aside for him, which was a foreign but not unpleasant experience.
Finally, he arrived at the exhibition and found Oliver already waiting for him. They greeted with a hug and a short kiss, both fully reciprocated by Nathan, and went inside. Although Oliver seemed to notice something was off about Nathan, he didn't mention it and apparently forgot about it quickly.
Today, Nathan found it much easier to talk to Oliver and brought up topics by himself.
The exhibition however was kind of a let-down for Nathan. Although he could judge on a rational level that the art presented here was really well-done and interesting, on a purely emotional level, Nathan found it mind-numbingly boring. The conversation steered away from the art quickly, and more towards personal matters, which was a relief. So, even though they didn't care much about the paintings around them, the two of them ended up wandering around the exhibition for hours, talking and having a good time.
During the date, however, Nathan was quickly experiencing an unfamiliar feeling. The company of Oliver was... exciting. Exciting on a sexual, primal level. Nathan's larger manhood grew semi-hard in his underwear quickly, so Nathan had to readjust himself more than once. At first, he was very self-conscious about it and tried to be as subtle as possible. However, with every push his cock needed in order not to be too obvious, Nathan actually cared less about who saw him readjust himself. He was a guy after all, and all big-dicked men had that particular problem from time to time.
Besides forming a bulge in his groin, however, his constantly semi-hard cock did one more thing: Nathan was leaking precum in his underwear. First, it was just a drop or two on an involuntary throb, but it quickly became more. His underwear was feeling damp before long, and a faint note of sexuality mixed into his still present smell.
After a while, Oliver even commented on it, in his usual upbeat way: "Hey, Nathan, I have to say, you smell pretty good. Are you using cologne?"
Nathan hadn't noticed his own smell too much. His first impulse was to apologize, but the burning campfire of courage inside of him quickly told him otherwise. Oliver didn't complain. In fact, he liked it.
So, Nathan answered with a grin: "Nope. That's just how I smell."
Oliver took another whiff of the mixture of sweat, dried cum and precum and smiled. "Well, I like it!"
Nathan wasn't quite sure how to react, and just said: "Thanks!"
The exhibition was closing down soon, and Nathan offered Oliver to accompany him to the train station, which he gladly accepted. When they parted, they kissed again. This time, it wasn't a small, timid kiss like before, but a long, sexual one that made Nathan's dick twitch like mad in the confines of his pants. Since their bodies were pressed closely together, Nathan could be sure that Oliver felt the movement against his own groin.
Only after they broke the kiss, Nathan noticed that he was now looking down on Oliver slightly. He could have sworn that Oliver had been slightly taller than him yesterday.
There was no telling on how the evening would have continued hadn't it been for Oliver's train to arrive just then. Before Oliver could board the train, however, Nathan grinned at him and said: "Dinner tomorrow? The Italian place downtown, at 6?"
"I would love that!"
They kissed again and Nathan watched as the train pulled out. Then, he went back to his dorm, whistling a happy tune. It didn't even occur to him that he had taken the initiative in asking Oliver out for a third date. The fire of confidence was burning bright inside of him.
When he came home, Nathan immediately stripped out of his clothes. Even the larger shirt had become somewhat tight. He took a short look at it. There was a wet patch under both arms from his constant sweating, and the t-shirt had adapted his smell. There was something else in the smell, though. At the chest region, there was a medium sized stain, machine oil from the smell of it. Nathan wondered briefly how he could have missed it this morning but then diverted his attention to more pressing matters. His cock was fully hard and was poking out from the waistband of his briefs. Nathan hadn't had an erection like that since puberty and, if he was honest with himself, the feeling was rather nice. Without hesitation, he closed his hand around his hard meat and gave it a few experimental pumps. A low growl escaped his mouth, and a shiver went through his body. He didn't want to go slow, he wanted to fuck. His mind was focused on the task at hand. He didn't even bother to close his curtains, as he went for it. Nathan was jacking himself off, fast and hard, growling and groaning, until he finally exploded all over his chest and face, shooting multiple loads of thick white cum everywhere.
As Nathan was catching his breath, the smell of cum was heavy in the room. God, he needed that. Ever since he met Oliver today. He wiped his face and chest with his discarded t-shirt and briefly considered if he wanted to take a shower. The smell emanating from him was rather strong now, but still, he didn't want to. Oliver seemed to like his body odor, and, if Nathan was being honest, he did so himself, too.
Nathan was woken by his alarm the next morning. As his mind came to focus, his hand reached for the smartphone automatically and dismissed the alarm. He yawned and stretched. He was really looking forward to today. Given, it was the last day before classes started again, but he was going to a third date with Oliver this evening!
When Nathan crawled out of bed and went for his bathroom, however, his body felt weird again. The muscles had become more defined over the course of the last two days and now, the whole body structure felt *strong*. The few hairs from before had become a small forest of body hair and the stubble had grown thicker. He still didn't feel the need for a shave, though.
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Nathan wasn't quite sure about the whole situation. Of course, he was enjoying the change. On the other hand, ... No, fuck the other hand. This was great, plain and simple. He finished his morning business standing up while peeing, which he usually never did. But right now, it just felt *right*.
After that, he inspected his wardrobe. He had half-feared that he would need to go and buy new clothes, but apparently, overnight his wardrobe had changed as well. It was filled with sturdy cargos or work pants as well as simple shirts and the occasional overall. Good!
His underwear choice had also changed. Instead of briefs or boxers, the drawer was now filled with jockstraps. That made sense, of course - only a jockstrap would set his large dick in the right scene.
None of the clothes qualified as "clean". Sure, they had been washed before they went into the wardrobe, but permanent grease or oil stains had permeated the fabric just as Nathan's manly stink - both marks no washing machine could ever erase entirely.
Nathan grabbed one of the pants and smelled it. He couldn't help but smile. This was his smell. This was *his* smell. His manly, sweaty, dirty, horny smell. He even felt his ever-present dick twitch a bit at the smell. Nathan wasn't sure if he would ever get used to this new reality. Or if this even was the final reality.
The hours passed quickly. Nathan was keeping himself busy, playing games or listened to music. Not once did it occur to him to draw something or even look at his art. This new him wasn't particularly creative, it seemed.
Nathan's mind wandered back to the date this evening. He couldn't wait to see Oliver again. In fact, he couldn't wait for more than that. It was a third date and Nathan wanted to go all the way with Oliver. He wanted to take his ass and fuck it into oblivion.
At around 5 pm, Nathan stood in front of the Italian place, waiting for Oliver. When Oliver finally arrived, the two men greeted each other with a passionate kiss. Nathan could tell that the kiss was having an effect on Oliver, as his breathing was quicker than usual.
They went inside and sat down on a table. Almost automatically, Nathan's legs spread wide, taking up space, establishing presence and, most importantly, giving his equipment the necessary space. The *old* Nathan would have sat with his legs closed or even crossed, in order to not draw any attention to himself. However, the new Nathan didn't want to draw *less* attention.
The two chatted a bit, with the main topic of the conversation being the menu, before ordering. When he spoke, Nathan noted that his voice had dropped an octave, making his voice gravely and his laugh a low rumble. When Oliver had chosen, Nathan summoned the waiter and ordered for the both of them, his lower voice full of confidence. For Nathan, it was a large meat pizza and a beer.
"You know, I have never seen you drink before", remarked Oliver.
"I don't usually", replied Nathan. "But I thought I'd have a beer today."
"You're not driving, are you?"
"Na, I'm here on foot."
Oliver smiled his usual smile. "I'm here by car, so if you like, I can give you a ride home afterwards."
There seemed to be some subtext to this offer, but it went over Nathan's head. Not that it was necessary, because he had the exact same plans, anyway.
"Sounds great!"
A couple of minutes later, their pizzas arrived, and the two dug in.
"I really like your style, Nathan." said Oliver after a while.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know, the way you dress. The way you talk. The way you act."
"Oh. Thanks."
Nathan thought for a moment before he added: "You know, I go by Nate these days."
"Nate, eh?", smiled Oliver.
"Yeah. Fits better, you know."
"I guess so. I like it a lot!"
"I like your style, too."
"What do you mean by that?", Oliver laughed.
"Just, the way you talk, the way you walk. Everything. You're cute, you know."
"Why, thank you!"
The conversation was definitely a lot more flirtatious than yesterday. When they had finished their meals, they didn't linger much longer in the restaurant but got into Oliver's car.
Nate proceeded to give Oliver directions to his home. However, at a certain crossing, he had to stop and think for a moment. He knew for a fact that his dorm was to the left. But he also knew for a fact that his *home* was to the right. Nate decided not to overthink it and directed Oliver to the right with a firm voice.
They didn't get very far from that point, when suddenly, the car stopped with a jerk.
"Damn, sorry!" said Oliver. "The engine is acting up again. It's probably too cold or something like that. I'll just try to start it up again."
When after the third try, the engine didn't start again, Nate laid a hand on Oliver's. "Let me try." he said with a confident voice and left the car. When he opened the hood, the problem became clear to him right away.
"The carburetor is a bit clogged, I'll unclog it real quick and we're ready to go."
While Oliver was staring at Nate in surprise, as the latter quickly and with trained skill removed a few parts and then, with a flex of his mighty arms, applied percussive maintenance to the part in question. After Nate had reassembled the engine, he cleaned his hands on his pants and got into the car again, filling out the passenger seat with his presence.
"It should work again for now, but I'll have to clean it thoroughly tomorrow. The thing is just old and worn down, it needs replacing soon. Just try starting the engine."
Oliver was still staring at Nate with a disbelieving look on his face. Finally, however, he tried starting the engine again, and the car did indeed start running smoothly.
"Wow, Nate, that was amazing! Where did you learn that?"
"What do you mean", grinned Nate. "That's what I do!"
Oliver stared at him for a moment. "Wait, you're a mechanic?"
"Yeah, sure, didn't I tell you when we met?"
Oliver seemed to think about it but then slowly nodded: "Yes, I... think so. Weird. I could have sworn..."
Nate shrugged and pointed down the road: "Shall we go?"
They arrived at Nate's place shortly after. He had a cheap apartment directly over the car garage where he worked. Nate did try to clean up a bit the afternoon, but the place still screamed "Manly bachelor" all over the place with the occasional beer can or jockstrap scattered around.
Neither of them had time to care, though. As soon as the door closed, the two kissed. It wasn't just a chaste, romantic kiss. This was a heated, passionate kiss, full of desire and lust. Nate took Oliver's body and pushed him against the wall, grinding their bodies together. Both were hard and their breathing was rapid. Nate's hands wandered up and down Oliver's body, squeezing and grabbing his body. His fingers were strong and forceful, and he squeezed the smaller man's buttocks and his dick with the same intensity. Oliver responded by moaning and pushing his groin against Nate's, humping him.
Suddenly, Nate broke the kiss. "Oliver, I... I want you. I want to fuck you."
Oliver didn't answer, but kissed Nate again, harder this time. Nate's tongue invaded his mouth, and the bigger man's hands were ripping Oliver's shirt and pants off him. Once Oliver's dick was free, it was enveloped by Nate's big calloused hand, and Oliver's breath hitched in his throat.
"Oh god, Nate, yes!" he moaned.
Nate had enough of foreplay, and he wanted to fuck, now. Without wasting any time, he quickly pushed his pants down and pressed his dick against Oliver's. It was massive, even compared to Oliver's not insignificant size. While Nate's balls were big and heavy, his cock was thick, long, and veiny, with a fat mushroom head. It was also rock hard, and the head was already drooling precum.
With one hand, Nate stroked the two cocks together, rubbing them and smearing the precum all over his dick and Oliver's. With the other hand, he pulled Oliver close and kissed him again, a long, sensual, passionate kiss, which made Oliver moan into his mouth.
The two stood like that for a while, but finally, Nate's need to fuck was stronger than anything else.
"Bedroom. Now!" he growled and dragged the smaller man with him. Once there, Nate simply tossed him onto the bed and followed quickly, his cock pointing up. He positioned himself on top of the other man and kissed him again, their tongues dancing in their mouths.
When the kiss broke, Oliver was panting.
"You really are a big boy, huh?"
"Damn right I am."
"Oh god, I need your big dick inside of me!"
"Yeah? You want me to fuck you?"
"Please! I've wanted to feel your huge meat in me for days."
"Fuck yeah. You're gonna get it."
Nate reached under his bed and produced a bottle of lube, which he applied liberally to his dick.
"You're ready?"
"Do it, big guy."
Nate placed the head of his massive cock against the tight pucker and started to push. Slowly but steadily, his dick invaded Oliver's ass.
"Oooooooooh god, Nate, yesssssss!" moaned Oliver.
The pressure around Nate's dick was unbelievable. Oliver was clearly tight, and the way his asshole was massaging his dick felt heavenly.
Finally, Nate's dick was balls-deep inside Oliver. Both were breathing heavily, and Oliver was moaning incoherently. Nate gave him a moment to adjust and then started moving his hips, first slowly, but increasing his pace quickly. Soon, he was slamming into Oliver's ass as hard as he could, pulling almost completely out and then thrusting back inside the smaller man.
"Fuck yeah! You like that? You like my huge dick pounding your tight little ass?"
"God, yes, Nate, fuck me, fuck meeee!"
Nate was groaning and growling, a sound that came deep from his chest and made Oliver moan even louder.
"Oh shit, Nate, I'm so close! Don't stop, please don't stop, don't st- ooooooooh gooooooood!"
Nate felt Oliver's muscles clamp down on his dick, and that sent him over the edge. He buried his dick as deep as he could and shot a big load of cum deep into Oliver's guts.
The two of them collapsed on each other, spent but happy.
A lot had changed for Nathan in this new year. He had gotten a new body, a new job, a new identity even. But most importantly, he had found love. Nate the manly mechanic sighed. If he were to describe his feelings, looking into the future, there was only one fitting word: Confidence.
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I actually generated a ton (okay, 50) of images for this story. If you want to check out the alternate versions of the different stages of Nathan/Nate, check out my tip jar, where I posted them!
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