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#I have a problem with starting too many projects and taking WAY too long to finish them
taradactylus · 2 days
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Been off from tumblr a bit but I just wanna share my general thoughts about TSAMS, especially today's episode...
‼️Quick warning for suicide and self harm mention‼️
I feel betrayed. I legit cried. Out of embarassment, betrayal, and pure but well-reserved anger.
I'm not going to be quiet about how to show handled Sun's problem. Not one fucking media type ever dares to normally bring up suicidal problems, the people who suffer from this, the amount of kids and adults who DIE from such thoughts. This isn't about the overly edgy teenagers who want to normalize cutting yourself is okey and cool. This is about the people who suffered for months and years with such conditions while the world made fun of them or ignored their calls for help. Ignored the signs.
USA doesn't have much of a public transport where the show is going on. But here we do. And a lot of trains are late every day. Late for hours because of "mechanical issues". 8 out of 10 times the mechanical issue is a local kid who jumped front of the train. A teenager fed up with life. An adult who lost their way. An ederly too impatient for death.
I have waited months. Months. To see how Sun deals with it. A character I fell in love with not in a romantic sense, a character who shared way too many of my own problems from hallucinations from abuse till betrayal. A character who was pushed and pulled their entire life around people who slapped you then said they love you. I wanted to see how he heals out from it.
The signs were there. Everywhere. Sun said it out loud once that he at least fantasized about death. EVEN OLD MOON KNEW ABOUT THIS! He literally told New Moon Sun would be capable of doing it.
So why... why through Miku, the character used as the "weird fandom girl" symbol do they bring up such a delicate topic? A topic that is not delicate because you have to tip toe around the people who live with self destructive thoughts day and night, but delicate because it matters to be properly heard out AND NO ONE LISTENS!
Not one fucking media listens. A lot of us out there rely on fandoms. Stories we can escape to because the world never listens. And call me a self-projector all you want dear creators or whoever writes the story, but you either just pulled the cheapest and most dumbest way to close off a story line with solving Sun's problems off-screen, or you just legit don't give a fuck about people who "self-projected".
Honestly, what if I did? What if in a sense, I saw myself in Sun? A Sunshine of a character ruined and changed by the things that happened to him. Am I not allowed to relate to him? Am I an annoying "fan-girl" for caring about how he heals because I myself have no idea how to do it either? Or am I like Miku for hoping someone calls out on his behaviour because that's something I've wanted my entire life and never got?
And here I am, still somehow hoping Sun is lying. That he is in denial. That there is more to what was shown... but honestly? How long should I wait and hope while the character I started to like is now becoming a bit too toxic?
And with all due respect, I'm taking this episode personally. The creators watch the fandom. Probably have their secret accounts to see what the people theorize. And if Sun is not lying, and suicide is an annoying topic and we are self-projecting too much onto Sun, with all due respect, dear creators... grow the fuck up and educate yourself.
I don't need the world to pity my ass for having self-harming habits, wishing to die and even attempted suicide before (I'm getting my ass to therapy in the meantime so do not worry about me), but all I want from content creators to fucking educate themselfes before bringing up such topics. TO CARE A BIT MAYBE?!
I have survived my worst times, but not everyone does (it's not about who is weaker or stronger, only utter guilt held me back, without that I'd be long gone), andI want for those who has no help feel like they're heard and seen. Cause literally that's all itt takes sometimes to maybe save someone's life.
So yeah. I'm utterly disappointed in this episode. Not because I want the world to know that I'm suicidal and everyone should tip toe around me and "omg pls give me attention" ect ect ect...
Im disappointed because I had hopes for TSAMS to maybe, maybe be an example and bring this topic up normally for a change. But well... here goes my hope for an educational approach of suicide and self harm in a popular show.
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klaprisun · 3 days
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One Sunny Day
(Stardew Valley)(Haley x Female Farmer)
Chapter 15
All my crops have been planted for the summer season and have even grown a little now since it has been about a couple days. It’s a full farm this season since Haley had picked out wayyyy too many seeds, but I don’t mind though. That just means I will make a great profit from my crops. Makes planting them all worth it in the end, especially this little project I am working on in my field. It required me to reserve a small area off to the side for it, but it will be amazing.
Today I have to pop by Marnie’s farm to grab a few supplies. I plan on getting some farm animals but I want to be prepared before I get them.
I walk down the path south of the farm and turn the corner that leads to the door of Marnie’s house. But instead of going in, my gaze is drawn to the cow pasture out front. I see a familiar blondie hanging out with the cows at the fence.
“What’s a prissy girl doing out this way?” I call over as I start approaching her.
“Who are you calling prissy?” she laughs as she jokingly flicks her hair over her shoulder.
“Are we making some new friends?” I start patting the curious cows who are lined up along the fence of their enclosure. They are very interested in what we are doing.
“Well, the lighting is just so nice right now I just had to come out and take some nature shots,” she tells me. I hadn’t even noticed the camera she had in her hand until now. “I’ve been trying to connect with the outdoors a little more.”
“You want to connect with the outdoors more?” I ask her quizzingly. This is very unlike Haley and it is starting to concern me.
“I wanna know what it’s like being a farmer. It’s a way of life I’ve never really thought about…”
“Who are you and what have you done with Haley!” I grab her by the shoulders and give her a little shake. She starts laughing at me and my concern for her change of attitude.
“Yeah well it wasn’t until now that I started thinking about it.” Haley starts blushing and gently twisting side to side. She turns her focus off of me and back to the cows. “Hehe, these cows are so cute.”
She reaches out to pet a cow on the head but recoils her hand before she could pet one. She then seems to have a light bulb moment and turns to me. “I have an idea!”
She runs a couple feet in front of the cow pasture and sets up her camera on a tripod she brought with her.
“Let’s take some pictures with the cows! You can show me how to approach them since I am a little unsure…” She makes a little disappointed face but it quickly disappears as she turns the camera timer on for the picture.
“Let me give you a boost over the fence. I’m sure Marnie won’t mind if we actually jump in with the cows,” I say. Haley comes over and steps on the hand I put out for her. She braces herself by holding onto my shoulder and she takes a big step over the fence. With no problem, I easily boost myself over to join her.
“Hopefully that timer is set for a long time. I don’t know if you want to keep jumping over that fence again and again to keep setting it,” I say.
“We’ll be fine. It takes several pictures over and over until I push stop,” she nonchalantly waves her hand at me.
The cows are now swarming us since we are in their pen. They are loving this attention we have brought and all want a turn to hangout with us. I showed Haley where to pet them that they’d like it, and even gave her some hay to hand feed them. She was not fond of the slobber.
“I am going to get on now!” She excitedly hops onto the cow, straddling it’s back.
“Haley I don’t think that’s a good id-” I tried to reach out to her to help her get off the cow, but the cow had other plans. The cow began to take off running.
“HELP!” she screeched as she reached out for my hand. My hand was too far to reach as the cow had spirited away pretty fast. Unfortunately, Haley couldn’t hold on for much longer and managed to slip off the back of the cow. She had fallen right into a pile of mud.
I threw my hands up onto my head in distress, frozen in shock. I finally snap myself out of it and rush over to check on her. Dropping to my knees in the mud pile, I put my hand on her back and put my head near hers to see if she is even breathing.
“Haley?” I whisper. I start to hear muffled chuckles coming from her. Her body jitters with each laugh.
“I’m alright, Danny. That was so silly of me.”
“Damn right it was silly of you. I don’t know why you thought you could ride a cow! I didn’t tell you you could do that,” I scolded her playfully. I wrap my arm under her stomach and lift her to a sitting position. The way I sat her up allowed her to be between my legs that I have now stretched out in front of me. When she notices the position we are in, her face turns red. My arm was still around her stomach, which caused her to be resting up against me since I was holding so tight.
Haley turns in my grasp to face me. She adjusts herself so she is sitting on her knees with her hands resting on her legs holding her up. I let go of her and put both hands behind my back and lean on them.
“I’m sorry I didn’t stick to what you were telling me. I like to do my own thing most of the time and I got carried away,” she rolled her eyes as she spoke, but it wasn’t in a sassy or sarcastic way.
“Let’s stick to what Danny says from now on,” I reply back. Noticing we haven’t left the mud, put some of the mud on my finger and swipe it onto Haley’s cheek.
“Oh my Yoba!” she gasps and puts her hand to where I put the mud. I let out a laugh but she shuts me up real quick because she takes both her mud covered hands and gently smacks them onto my cheeks.
We go back and forth attacking each other with the mud until we are both covered in it, laughing uncontrollably.
“What are you guys doing?” a little voice chimes out. Haley and I quickly stand up and awkwardly look to see who it was that caught us. It was little Jas.
“We were taking a few pictures with the cows... We were just leaving now,” We both responded to the curious girl.
Jas just shrugs and carries on into the house. She must’ve just been getting back from a day with Penny.
“On that note, I should get home and shower.” She holds a chunk of her hair up to show me the clumps of mud tangled in it.
“That looks like it’ll be a bitch to get out… you need any help?” I give her a little wink and wag my eyebrows at her.
“Oh you,” she nudges my shoulder with her hand, “just give me a boost out of here.”
I give her a step up once again, and then hop over myself. She runs over to her camera and fidgets around with it.
“Wow, there are so many pictures for me to go through. It is going to take forever!” she sighs.
“I’m sure there are a ton of good shots though. There will also definitely be some funny ones like when you were suddenly signed up for a rodeo.”
She holds up her camera at me. I give her a small smile, and then I hear the shutter go off. She lowers the camera and looks at the picture she just took.
“My favorite one of them all i’d say,” Haley mumbles. That has me blushing now.
“But you haven't even looked through the rest?” I mumble back.
“I don’t have to. I already know this is my favorite.”
I inch forward and get closer to her to look at the picture. It really was a nice picture of me. I think it may even be the best one of me I have ever seen. That picture really captures how much I have changed in my time in Pelican Town. With my hair cut short, my shoulders looking broader, the gruffness of my appearance from working outdoors so often, I hardly recognize myself.
When I looked up at Haley from looking at the picture, she was only looking at me and not at the picture.
“Do I have something on my face?” I joke.
“Besides the mud all over, no. Am I not allowed to just look at you?” she retorts with a smirk.
“Fine I GUESS you can,” I shoot back sarcastically.
“I should get going now… I’ve got a lot of pictures to look through. Thank you for this amazing day. I’ll see you soon!” and before I could respond, she prances off, leaving me in the wake of her beauty. I could only stand there in awe as she disappeared around the corner.
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various school things that I keep forgetting to post
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Ft a little doodle that my friend drew. Lil guy is experiencing the beholding
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capslocked · 8 months
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DIPLOMACY
male reader x kim minju
7k words
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For those not paying attention - of which there seems to be an increasing number - it’s not that she doesn’t have the pedigree. But just shy of getting into that storied history or into the nitty-gritty of her curriculum vitae, the only thing that really matters is:
"This all seems a little beneath me." 
It’s another day of this. Of you, of her, of trying to gather the mien of someone who isn’t utterly disarmed by Minju’s usual, beautiful, challenging self. Which, let’s be honest, is always an uphill battle.
Minju nearly pouts, flipping through a copy of the dossier idly from the other side of the desk in a gesture that reads both bored and dismissive and every little thing it needs to annoy you.
"Look," you offer up, graciously diplomatic all things considered, "it's about finding the right springboard, to something else more… substantial."
"Or to something else, you know, beneath me." Her red lips turn down ever so slightly. She doesn't seem so interested in playing ball on this one. And, for you, amounts to something of a huge problem.
See, Minju doesn't quite understand how the working world really, actually works. That the carrot that's dangled in front of her is your carrot just as much as it is hers - that you stand to lose out just as badly. That it's both of your asses on the line if things fall apart and Minju's shortsighted insistence to only work those certain roles befitting a name like hers puts that all at risk.
"Maybe you can tell me something,” you start, coming across more curt than you possibly intended - but not by much, “how many of your former cohorts have had their career aspirations line up with reality, Miss Kim?"
“I’m picky, not naive,” she sighs, not missing a beat, and you watch her dark hair cascade gently down her shoulder when she reaches a hand back to unfix her loose ponytail from its hair clip.
“You might see how I can get the two confused.”
“Then spare me the lecture,” says Minju.
Though she says nothing else, an unspoken you already get paid too much for that hangs in the air.
The tricky part is that no matter what else Minju does, her contract has some non-negotiable clauses to them that no talent has before, or will likely get afterwards. Things that cannot be broken. Like the requirement of her making x number of media appearances, and she gets to approve all of them.
Or that her agent's take home comes from a fixed fifteen percent of her gross earnings, with further incentives when her roles hit specific milestones. But with her refusing projects like the ones in the dossier before you, it leaves you in the unenviable position of losing out on your guaranteed fixed income or trying to convince your diva talent to do what it is she ought to be doing.
The truth is that there’s quite a long list of things no one has had the guts to say ‘no’ to yet.
And, well, it's rather simple and obvious when you look at her:
Minju is that particular blend of A-lister gorgeous. The special look that’s all kinds of mesmerizing and magnetizing, in full bloom - that makes you feel like you're suffocating in beauty. Like if she said come here, you would go; the type where a single look is all it takes and then - just like that - she's got your number forever.
Because everything about her is tailored - from her clothes to her perfect porcelain features. And they made her that way for a purpose: to sell records. (Which, that's exactly what they did.) You can hardly blame the people in power over there, wanting what's best, in a position where everyone would kill for a taste, or even just a glimmer of possibility.
"I don't suppose the part of the governor’s neglected wife is capturing your imagination.” You push the dossier closer, and she doesn’t so much as look at it. “It’s this year’s big budget political thriller, a shoo-in for awards.”
“You mean the one who ends up in a lot of very steamy shots on the apartment’s rooftop pool. Maybe I’m mistaken, but you can’t really unshow your tits.”
"This isn't about being above, Miss Kim, it's about being well regarded; it’s about proving you’re easy to work with,” you argue. “We could-"
"Find a better use of my time?" she cuts in, closing the dossier shut. There's a long moment in which she's looking you over, her gaze sizing up every little inch.
"Your big break won't happen just because you ask for it." You grimace a bit, hating to tell it like it is, but not really wanting to just coddle her either. "But listen - we work together, one project at a time - we can build up to it."
Minju crosses her arms with a loud hmph. "And what are you going to do if I decide not to accept these projects?"
There’s enough edge in her voice that it gives you pause.
"If," she says again pointedly, a teasing little grin tugging at her lips.
So - actually, another thing: when you start digging into the details, there’s more problems than just what can be seen at the surface. Which perhaps it’s too reductive, but essentially everything between you and the talent sitting on the other side of your desk is not quite so straightforward. It was never about Minju doing the best she could for either of your careers; it was about Minju making sure her needs were taken care of, no matter what.
Months ago, thanks in part to the way Minju filled out this tiny black excuse of a cocktail dress, and as a compromise of sorts, there’s an uncharacteristic mistake you ended up making. Or two or maybe a couple.
Because there’d been the perfect backdrop - an end of year party, beautiful dresses and suits, lots and lots of champagne, the kind of jovial mood that inspired one drink too many - and then you and her, taking off down one of the hallways, towards the exit.
Of course, you ended up exactly where neither of you should have ever been - where the snow was falling gracefully and melting into the pavement, behind a private accessway at the back of the venue, somewhere dark and dingy and dripping with a smell reminiscent of garbage; somewhere your hands had gripped firm fistfuls of Minju’s waist before you shoved her up against the back of the building. 
In short:
You remember how she gasped when her palms hit the brickwork, how you figured you may as well give her everything she wants.
(So what, it was one time, you hear yourself explaining, mildly repentant, and to say that it’s complicated the matter is a massive fucking understatement.)
In the interest of full disclosure, you tell her, “what exactly did you have in mind?”
"That maybe," she hums, tongue flicking out over her lips before she purses them thoughtfully. "You should persuade me a little better."
"And let’s suppose, I don’t do any of that," you persist.
"It'd be a shame, wouldn't it, having such a promising future cut short so early? If word got out. From such a respectable agency too, of all places. Couldn't live with yourself," Minju remarks, leaning forward on her elbows until her eyes are level with your own. “Come to think of it, it’s the kind of thing that could totally, like, end your career.”
But as she sits there, arching that perfect brow again, you don't feel so good about the whole thing. You take another look at her - which, your mistakes start there, if nowhere else - at the girl that is somehow not the airheaded starlet she’s supposed to be. No, she’s calculating. A rarity, though you do know the type: here’s a girl who just happened to take her brains for granted in the years she was pampered by the industry - the same one that fattened on her only to later spit her out. And that thought, the look of cold intellect in her eyes and the slight upward curl at the corner of her mouth, has you frozen just a bit stiff.
She takes a key card from her clutch, and throws it onto the desk in front of you.
“Minju,” you caution, and there’s a taste of danger on each syllable of her name - more of a warning for yourself than you can conceive of it ever being for her.
"I'm only suggesting" - she’s watching you nearly fucking choke, amused - "what's best."
And when the lines get muddied between the two of you, that's exactly the issue. What's best. As though this was always Minju's aim. Maybe you've read it wrong, maybe you've gotten too lost in your own delusions, maybe - maybe, it doesn’t matter -
"For work," she adds, at which point her knee bumps yours playfully beneath the desk, leaving the suggestion open, and the implication unmistakable. "Whatever's required."
Here, you should definitely tell Minju no. Say no. Say: you're a professional, and getting involved with her, romantically, officially, personally - whatever - would lead to nothing but disaster. That’d be the responsible thing probably. It’d be generous to say you end up getting even halfway there:
"There's rules against this, you know."
Minju tips her head. “Why ever would there be rules in place against doing your job?”
She thinks that if she feigns being clueless, you'll bite, which -
“Against me folding you over this desk and fucking you until your forget your name.”
"My apologies," she practically coos, knowing that she’s not only made progress, but that she’s wrapping you around her finger. She is a bright girl after all. “You might see how I can get the two confused.”
At that, you figure, the only real move, to be perfectly blunt, is to play Minju at her own game -
To convince her to bend, just a little. To persuade her. So you lean closer, you start to promise, with your face just next to hers:
"You want me to show you how I might handle an uncooperative talent? Would that do it for you, huh?"
And now if that isn’t enough to earn you a whole look, one that’s equally a challenge and a triumph; you watch as she bites the inside of her cheek, not that she can help the smirk creeping across her pretty mouth, a grin full of want and need and all those dangerous, thrilling thoughts that're probably too predictable given your unique sliver of history you’ve already carved out.
She arches that perfect brow of hers once more, toying with the corner of her lip between her teeth. 
You navigate around your desk to hand her your pen, with instructions that are perfectly clear: "then for once in your life, be useful, and sign on the fucking dotted line."
And her whole act falls apart just like that.
She’s humming almost pleasantly to herself as you settle in flush behind her, sinking into you just a little when your hand arrives at her waist, another carding through her hair. “Here,” you point out, watching her name materialize in ink on the document - pressing your lips to the nape of her neck each time she finishes penning out an exaggerated curl of a u.
“And here.”
“And here.”
“And here."
She signs again - and again - and that merits a reward; she’s good when she wants to be. Persuasive when she needs to be.
You can hear her murmur your name when your mouth slips just beneath her jaw, when you mark your next path across the bare skin of her shoulder and when she gets started on the last page of the documents, it happens just like this -
The pen drops from her fingers at some point, tumbling onto the desktop with a clack that might as well be a round leaving the chamber of a starting pistol. The office door isn't even locked and you have half a mind to check on the blinds, but the idea of some desperate executive running face first into this scene - where you’re smoothing your hands down the fabric of Minju’s top, down the rise of her jeans, fiddling slowly with the button at her waist - it holds an unfortunate sort of appeal; those blinds, they're mostly closed anyway. And at this hour of the afternoon, well - maybe it’s a little more clear why Minju asked to reschedule this meeting in the first place.
At first, it’s just a  few of your fingers dipping under the waistband of her pants, following the curve of her hip, her thigh, then inward, and when you reach down to find her already burning up in anticipation, she inhales sharp, a noise that makes you groan in turn, low, right into the hollow behind her ear. Minju, to her credit, is absolutely willing, so very helpful and - as you pinch the soft, tender skin at her hip, she's saying something but you haven't quite paid it a moment's mind.
Her head turns, eyes looking up at you ever-so-slightly-more-vulnerable than their usual mischief and calculation, and there’s a hint of a demand dancing on her tongue, ready and waiting; she moves her leg upwards just a few inches, settling to rest her knee on top of the tabletop, a calculated little pose, angling her hips so you can sink your hand lower, closer, press your fingers into the lace over her hot cunt even deeper.
Here you figure you're probably ruining the fabric, drenching it in her own slick as you work two, then three fingertips in tight circles. You’ll ruin it, and you’ll ruin more - ruin everything and take what you're owed. As her breath hitches again, in some way that makes your senses come to life: you can feel her skin become taut and tense, gooseflesh rising when your hand untangles from her hair and slides up under her shirt, can hear the steady rush of blood in your ears, her pulse quickening, the heart in her chest beating rapid -
(She can pretend all she wants that this was an attempt at extortion. She can pretend she’s not an easy read; that she doesn’t like being easy for you, when she’s hot and whimpering and aching so wet, creaming on your fingers when you haven’t even gotten her pants off.)
- as if every part of her wasn't made for this, as you lay out your first real proposal:
“Do you remember what I asked you? The first time, right after you signed on, when you were so good for me up against the bricks in the alley?”
Minju chokes out an affirmative when you toy with her pussy where she’s craving the shape of anything, but, boy, are the rough pads of your fingers more than up to the task.
"I remember you almost couldn't answer, you didn't dare want to admit that it's what you needed - isn't that right?"
She moans with a voice thick as honey when a couple more fingers brush up against her wet lips and fuck, she does look breathtakingly good; she's exquisite, she's irresistible - the image of a living wet dream.
"Say it, baby," you croon, her voice beginning to melt a bit at the edges, her own heat burning her resolve up from the bottom up as you tug sharply at a string on her lace.
Minju sighs. Arches into your touch.
Because you’re settling into this torturous pattern, where you draw inwards, closer, so close to the little bundle of nerves, her cunt flexing and rippling hungrily when your fingers flick once or twice around it, only for her to wince just slightly as your fingers trace down towards her entrance to start all over again -
Minju steels herself, drawing in a heavy breath past her teeth. “You asked how rough you could be.”
There's something so painfully wicked, how her voice falters there - but then your own voice is rasping right back in a similar caliber of depravity.
“Hm. That’s pretty close to how I remember it.” After all, you are always taking care of Minju - her concerns, her contracts, her needs. So if she was interested, why the fuck would you hold back on providing exactly what she wants. “But help me out, what did you tell me?”
Another twist - another catch. Another push - another pull. She's going to break so sweetly if you're patient - and, ahh, patience - she's shuddering underneath your touch, squirming against you so nicely that you've already gotten away with a bit too much, this much, these fingers and you and Minju's breathy gasps.
"M-that you could be. That you could-" she stutters, all as you feel her folds start to swell, then quiver, as your thumb drags painfully over her clit again - 
And in that moment Minju starts to consider if this were a good idea or not, but her back is already arching against your chest. She's gripping your arm to get you right where she wants you, and the reality of this hits her - a rush of cold clarity through her head just as everything else threatens to spiral into something else, something frantic, something hot and animal and making the muscles at her core begin to clench up.
But you just ease out of her completely, a whine coming out from the back of Minju's throat - her thighs parting further in desperation.
And oh, the disappointment, the sound, it’s incredible - a high pitch - almost a sob -
You slide your other hand in her hair to make sure she's got an earful of your words:
"What was it you said, hm?" you whisper, nipping at the skin on her neck, the side of her jaw - she's shuddering with it when your mouth lingers so close -
“As rough as you fucking want.”
God, the little things that her voice does to you. “Exactly, sweetheart.”
And how's that boundary supposed to hold up and remain uncrossed then, really, if you just give her whatever the fuck she asks for - especially if you have your mouth working it's way around her pulse-point, toying with her as she starts to tense and soften all at once.
In fact, Minju can only stutter out an okay or two as you grind forward, the hard suggestion of your cock nestling up against her rear, just shy of the perfect spot between her legs, and even with still a few layers of clothes between you, the feeling - fuck, the friction, the sight - it’s enough to get you grinning.
Enough to form this near-half-coherent thought: that it’s what's always had you on edge with this girl. She is absolutely every bit your type. Everything about her, right down to the way that she was put together.
All her hard edges and soft curves that should've never really been yours to covet and now, somehow, have become exactly that. Oh, she's the kind of temptation that's better suited for the life of glitz and glamor and the time it requires for indulging in it. You never thought that you would actually ever get here, even as the years have begun to stack up and time starts to grind everything in the back of your head and turn it all over into something like resentment.
If only Minju weren't so good at making you a sucker for those pouty lips and big doe eyes.
Particularly when she's turned around - face to face now - she's the epitome of gorgeous, equal parts aphrodite and adonis; a fucking knockout, her body sculpted and lithe and athletic. Those lines curving out and away like they might tell time, like her thighs could count the minutes and seconds until she's straddling you in your lap with her ankles locked in at the small of your back and you're rutting up into her without reservation, without doubt.
(So what, really, is your goddamned excuse? Your pride? The nature of the beast in you that demands that you must have some degree of control over yourself? The power that your position, here, now, provides? But you can hardly be blamed, even when it's wrong and filthy and so fucking good.)
"You’re stalling." Minju’s leaning back against the desk, tilting her chin up, blinking lazily, and there’s a bit of bite in her voice again.
It takes a minute for it to dawn on you that it must be intentional, trying to get a further rise out of you, the same way your hands have risen up to trace the dips and elevations of her spine, her every vertebra, your fingertips mapping the hollows and rounds of her back. To learn the geography of her shoulders and where, and when, and how to get her breath catching in her lungs, each labored intake of air a little harsher, hastier, hotter than the last.
"You know," you start, spreading your palm across a soft plane of denim, fingers pulling onto the cheek of her ass, dragging her even tighter against you, "I always figured your reputation was a little overdramatized. Most everyone's bound to have a story or two."
She laughs, full of mirth. When the mood strikes, she's the picture of perfection, and she knows it. "Well? Were you disappointed?"
As she coils an arm around your waist to slide your shirt free from the confines of your pants, and as a deft hand slips its way in, you stop asking yourself about right or wrong, good or bad, or about the kisses that land playfully at the corner of your mouth - until you hold her tight and seize her lips, hard, like you mean it - it isn't long before she's fumbling and scrambling with the zipper at your waist. 
"That depends," you’re pulling yourself away long enough to say.
"I think I know the answer." 
And by the way she shivers a little when you shove up the bottom of her top, the way she's melting into your mouth and demanding more and more and more, Minju does. You think she probably has since the first night that your threads got all tangled up. Especially when she slides off her top - her bra - her jeans - leaving them in a pile that lasts barely a second where it started once you sweep everything off of your desk in one broad, efficient gesture -
There's a thud when a pair of binders and a couple of books hit the floor. Someone exclaiming in recognition, the muffled noise drifting through the office door, and, oh, this would probably be the best moment to remember how painfully thin the walls are; you consider whether to walk over and lock the office door, and when Minju’s fingers run up your sides, you decide you won’t.
Too little too late, you figure.
And before you can take a second to give it the more congruent thought it deserves, Minju opens her mouth: "which, in your professional opinion," a hum and a slur as her nails find their way to your collar, "is well, that the thing I should take," she gets out, unbuttoning you at the cuffs, loosening the last of your shirt, "really," her hands palming over the fabric on either side of the lapels, working their way downwards, "how - how do you think this goes?"
“Oh, Minju.” She’s all but begging you to fuck her and still has the wherewithal to be asking for terms.
Like her fingers aren’t completely down your pants, locking around your hard cock - pumping you with soft, lazy strokes - not too different from how you have her chewing on her lip every time your fingers circle over the entrance to her cunt, tenting the last of her lace all slow and careful.
It’s driving her crazy. She just bites into the edge of her thumb in response.
"Fine. Alright. Let me explain it clearly." You dip a finger into her cunt; the whimper is short-lived when she tightens around you and it hits home, the pressure so delicious that she can barely stutter to keep up.
“A negotiation, of sorts-”
“Yeah, sure, we can call it that.”
The mental picture you have of your length outlined against Minju's tiny fist - as she works it into her hand, steady - it's all almost more than you can possibly bear: the way her long legs stretch out so pretty in front of you, the way her wrist twists with each pass and every bump at the veins of her forearm that is such a damn perfect shade of porcelain white in the dim glow of the desk lamp.
This girl with her pert pink mouth and those lips, the ones that aren't quite touching yours but rather smirking the whole time. (If only you were to make her scream loud enough, because you know she could be so much prettier.)
The thought flits through your brain, unbidden and treacherous -
"Think, fuck - think of this, as a one-way track into your career. Think of me, a guiding hand - if you want to. The key to all this," you continue, spacing the words carefully so you don't falter under the pace Minju is picking up, "is that you're going to need to be compliant. Easy."
"Mm. And in exchange?" she bites, choking down an embarrassing moan.
"Here's the basics." And there, there's no fucking reason for you not to dip the tips of your fingers right on downwards, tap into her soft heat until her hips are arching away from the flat of the desk, searching for more. “Whenever you need me to take care of you, I’m there, however you need it: on my fingers, my tongue, my cock - I’ll make you fucking cum over and over.”
"That sounds," she gasps, losing track of the end of her sentence, rolling herself along the pads of your fingers, taking them deeper into her, "very-very-oh fuck-”
Her grip around your cock releases, arms throwing themselves around your shoulders, holding on tight as she starts to trust you implicitly - to give her exactly what she wants, what she needs - and give herself over to you, to your fingers, circling and circling and circling.
“See, tomorrow,” you start, “there’s an audition,” and when you pull your finger out of her cunt, Minju lets out this sound that’s between a whimper and a whine. Her pretty mouth has dropped open, like she's all out of words, lost somewhere, chasing this. Getting dire.
“It’s this teen soap; they need someone young, someone pretty, do you think you can do that for me?”
She doesn’t answer so much as grab and tug and pull you even closer as the heel of your hand pushes and presses over her clit, just about enough force behind it that, eventually, you begin to feel a certain rigidity through her limbs, how the lines of her face and her faultless features grow more and more focused, fixed and concentrated; her voice reduced to the high-pitched huffs and half-formed syllables of pure and utter desperation.
I can, I can - she’s murmuring - please, yes, I will - putting herself right into your capable hands.
When you feel Minju tightening, flexing around nothing, then seizing and shivering, her pussy throbbing hot and wet and clenching around your finger as it again works deeper inside her, an anguished groan finds its way out from her throat.
And from yours, well -
"Show up," you command, giving her another knuckle, curling it just right - watching as her expression contorts and twists up for all her worth. "Make a good impression. Don't make me fucking beg. Show up, Unreserved. Understood?"
And if her body wasn't making her pleas utterly transparent, she's screaming in agreement. It takes you barely a couple seconds, working up inside her cunt until she's all full-body, fully, blissfully spent. She starts to nod, needy, eyes screwing shut.
“And let’s say, something else pops up. A little racy, a little more gravure, just the right amount scandalous, I need you to keep an open mind.”
When it sinks in what you've said, Minju gives this wail, low and perfect - her cunt throbbing over the pulse at your palm - inches away from cumming and shaking and creaming on your hand. You could ask for anything, you think, and she’d give it to you -
“My PR team,” she gasps out, the consonants of her words fraying at the seams, “it’s up to my PR team.”
“Minju,” you say, priming a loaded question and a half. “Do you trust me?”
She nods, expression readable and open like a book. It starts to set in just about then, how you’re going to fucking ruin this girl.
Your breath runs hot, right against her temple, and you whisper the slightest affirmation, “good girl, I’ll take care of it.”
Because to be fair, you’ve not made it this long in your career without learning how to pull a string - how you might pull up on the sensitive skin straddling Minju’s clit and get her reeling; her pussy flutters in the tight, wet heat, muscles clamping, demanding as you work yourself in deeper and then, when the timing's right, pull out to slide a second finger past the slip of lace she has covering her cunt.
She's this tight, dripping, overwhelming fit - even more than you have yet to discover, to tease and then take, the heel of your wrist landing on her clit in a heavy pattern, circles - circles - circles -
- so you figure: fuck the PR team.
If only they knew how well and thorough you were going to fuck the rules right out of Minju.
That you were going to remind her who's the one in the driver’s seat of her life, of her career, that you would make sure she stays in her lane - the proper lane - that this, you think to yourself, might become a recurring sort of negotiation, the kind she's so shockingly eager to accept.
You'd be doing her a favor, fucking a couple good lines into her head, into her skin, into her cunt.
And soon, before long -
She's gritting her teeth around the shape of your name and giving one last heave against the hard wood of the desk underneath her. It's almost beautiful to watch how Minju crumbles into herself; the way she grinds back onto the digits in her cunt. How you’re dragging her underwear down her thigh, pulling your cock into your fist and twisting her leg around your waist until finally, you press yourself right up against the heat radiating from her cunt.
“I’m going to take good care of you, Minju, don’t worry, I’ll fuck this pussy of yours just right. I'm going to make you shake and cum all over me.”
“Please.” Fuck, she looks at you sincerely - no games, no bullshit - pupils so very blown out with want, with need. You watch her adorable mouth uptick into this faint lazy smile as she tilts her head into your collarbone, lips parting slightly to remind you: “as rough as you fucking want-” 
And you sink right in. 
It’s all skin-on-skin as Minju practically collapses in your arms; pushing deep past her soaking entrance - your hips slotting together just so, cock engulfed by her tight heat. Minju fucking wails when you drag back from her cunt, slow - so, so agonizingly slow.
You let her recover just a bit, watching her breathing quicken and shallow.
And the word on her lips becomes something reverent, the most indecent prayer, pleading please, please, please let me have it, please fuck me with your cock- 
You brace yourself, thrusting back in, and she doesn't wince this time, holding fast to you like you aren’t the one fucking her open and taking her apart.
“God, I - look, this perfect little fucking cunt, look at how you’re stretching around me, Minju,” you’re telling her - promising her really - all of which doesn't count for shit when, once, and then again, and a couple more times after that, your hips meet hers and she starts to break just so slightly around you. “I can’t believe - it’s like you were fucking made for my cock, baby, you’re taking me so fucking well.”
"Now, show me why - why the fuck everyone wants you - wants you to be their-" she's trying, in a fashion  all to her credit and her fault. She should probably care more about that raw, unhinged noise you’re making right into the crook of her neck when you bury yourself deeper into her pussy. But in the next moment, with another wild crash of your hips, the tables start to turn.
Slowly at first, and then all at once.
Because the sound you’re ripping from her chest when you start fucking her - truly fucking her - becomes far, far filthier than anything you've ever heard a girl like her make. All of it coaxed out from you working the edge of her pussy open, stretching her, hitting each and every sensitive spot inside her.
Minju tips her head back to stare at the popcorn ceiling and fluorescent lights, brow creasing in the middle, mouth gaping open. You find you might have missed something, when she moves to hold you down, hold you in place with an insistent leg, the back of her heel digging into your ass. As though there were somewhere you might possibly want to go.
It all comes down to something she's murmuring, quietly, harboring this smug lilt like you aren’t fucking her raw and senseless: how maybe the key to unlocking the rest of her potential isn’t all that dissimilar, not as off-brand as you may have been initially worried about. And the notion that both of you might actually be profiting off of this - how it shouldn’t sound as incredible as it does - is doing absolutely fucking nothing to slow the brutal pace you fall into.
"Fuck, just like that," and she's smiling, grinning really, nails biting into your nape - your name and curses and a fuck you or two falling out of her mouth as you pound each short breath right out of her chest. 
"The only talent I'm gonna need to show," she manages, dizzy, and with one arm hooking around your waist, she pulls the two of you close, right up against each other. The sound your skin makes, clapping against hers - her cunt tight, pulsing, quivering around you - "is my, my, my-"
Your thumb should have never left her clit, you realize, pressing down on where your cock is disappearing between her legs, pushing up against that bundle of nerves that can get her screaming. That’s how you’ll punctuate your end of the bargain, how you’ll make her cum and cum and cum -
"-talent for being such a-"
There's something ungovernable in you, something fumbling, as you find yourself drawn to her lips like a magnet - claiming them in a kiss that has you both growling with all the intensity you can muster, groaning as her jaw goes slack, surrendering to the fucking. To this hard, solid snap of your hips, a raw fuck forward that pushes Minju against the edge of the tabletop.
It doesn’t matter what she had wanted to say, though it must be evident how easy she can wind you up, and you do your best not to be too gentle. Pushing into her so rough that her breasts, oh-so-delicate, bounce up and down along her chest, nipples tight and rosy, begging to be tasted and played with.
You’re pressing your mouth on hers hard, fucking her harder - fingers digging into the flesh around her thighs and leaving marks and memories, all these reminders you’ll be sure to come back to.
But the fact is that this is your girl in so many ways: needy and a dream in all her curves, and how her waist rocks back, her body fitting so perfectly against yours - you're hooked on all of it. On her - she is temptation made real, in blood and bone and soft, supple skin, so exquisitely touchable, just like the sound that she makes, high and tittering when your thumb starts to work her clit over; each swirl and figure eight sending a jolt through her nerves and straight back into your own spine. It's difficult - hard to focus, you find - when all her exposed skin has these drops of sweat standing in saltwater relief, how it rolls down the plane of her chest and disappears where her waist flares wide.
Minju turns her cheek, mouthing falling open, and asks with a certain helpless pleading, “yes, can you-”
she sighs,
“right there,”
she hiccups,
“please, again,”
she begs,
“again, harder, i’m so close-”
Not before long, the desk is scraping loudly across the carpet, moving right into the next office over, all from where you have your hand trapping her voice back in her throat, palm over where she’s practically sobbing for you to let her cum. 
From where you’ve got her locked in tight, lifting her up into your arms, into some perverse, unspoken promise to carry her the rest of the way. To do with her whatever you want.
"I'm going to show you," you're gritting out, "exactly how a professional handles their star, the girl at the center of it all, their top draw - and it's so easy, isn't it? This is - fuck, sweetheart - you're nothing more than a - just a desperate little cockslut who's aching to cum, and it's good - oh so, fucking-"
When that next shiver courses down the length of her perfect form, it's entirely because of you, when her legs are still locked and clamped over you like this, as she sputters and babbles, totally cock-addled and barely managing a coherent thought. “Please, sir, please, fuck-”
And then a keening, sounding low, lost.
“Sir. Please, sir, please just - I just wanna-" Her lips are shaping all these words that never quite materialize - because her cunt is slick, the whole of it hotter and softer than anything else in this goddamn room. Maybe anything else in this whole building. Or in the entire world. It makes her whimper and ache, her voice rising and rising, belting out, need it, need it, please let me cum -
Which -
Minju, oh god, Minju cums, and you are fucked sideways to hell and beyond when her whole body convulses, shakes, every single part of her contracting, contracting - all at once - the way her hands claw desperately onto the blades of your shoulders as the room gets taken up with the scent of her; the sounds she's making are fucked and filthy. She starts to become undone as you double your pace, aiming true - thrusting, pounding, nailing Minju right into the finish.
“Minju, sweetheart, I’m going to cum in you,” you tell her, and it’s not even a question, or a concern. You’re dictating, not negotiating when you say it to her again, when you tell her you’re going to fill her perfect pussy so full with your cum, she'll be hung up on it for weeks.
One long, stretched out moan is all it could ever take; a split second, where everything runs blindingly hot, and you bury yourself as deep into her pussy as you possibly can.
Cumming so much, spilling out deep inside - this heavy flood of cum that pools warmly at the back of her cunt and fills every corner of Minju - she whines and sobs and tells you it's too much, please, all this hot and thick white cum pumping right into her -
As you throb into her, she's having a hard time saying anything beyond your name, actually, because if anyone can, if anyone would, if Minju can trust anyone and anything in this world more, it would be you.
Her chest shudders and shudders, and she kisses you in a vain effort to quiet her own body, to quiet yours. She has all this faith she's pouring right down your throat as you rock the last of your orgasm into her twitching heat, spilling and spilling and spilling, not caring about the wetness leaking onto the carpet. Not bothering to mask the obscene slickness, how everything gets completely fucking sopping between the two of you.
When she's practically drooling over you, eyelids growing heavy and fluttering, Minju sags heavily into the bend of your arms. In that shallow heaving and gasping for air that bathes the both of you - blissed the hell out, a lazy tangle of limbs - and without warning she turns to speak into your neck, her breath cooling, like a whisper of a dream:
“Okay, and already… I guess this isn’t entirely-”
“Completely terrible,” you offer after you swallow the dryness in your mouth.
Minju smiles into your shoulder. “And sir, in the spirit of honesty and transparency, I think I - I think I really did want - this - you - the entire thing…”
You stop her there, right in the middle of that particular train wreck. A drop in your voice, and the message is clear, when your mouth works its way to hers.
(No more of her talking like that.
Besides, she looks even better on your lips like this, and fuck, doesn’t Minju taste like you will have to remember, like a little bit like desperation, but only in the way that it has you both completely hopeless, hanging on to every whimper as your cock slides lazily about her well-fucked pussy, a bit deeper, a bit further.)
Like there is something far beyond professionalism guiding the hand with which you hold her hip and let her ass spill through the gaps of your fingers.
It’s all mixed up, how in this exact moment you figure this is a terrible, terrible idea, the worst kind of agreement, this pact - because no one could look at you, could look at either of you and have any doubts in mind now. But you can see it, how you’ll both wear this little agreement like the most beautiful stain in your histories. Even though it might, conceivably, cost one or both of you dearly at some point in time. 
And yet, still.
"Will you - can I - can you..."
She's clinging onto you with all her remaining energy, like she wants to see it through.
But her eyes - the poor thing - her expression is melting into this haze, her face contorted in something like pain and something else entirely: a different kind of satisfied glimmer. It's almost unreadable how that sharp mouth softens at the edges as her cunt gives this small flutter over the head of your cock, as you pump her so full, threatening to overflow.
And in your ear, you catch this little whisper. It says, “please, let me show you,” she's practically purring, “let me, let me - I'm gonna clean you up now, lick my cum right off you.”
It's true. Minju can act and perform and pose and make faces, for a shit ton of people - but she’ll play-act any facade you might ask her to, and she'll do it for you - because, this time around, all you ask her is this:
To be yours.
To be a good girl for you, an obedient little thing, in your private audience, away from the cameras and the lights, away from everyone.
When her knees hit the carpet, she is perfectly between your legs, palms on your hips and fingers splaying out against you.
And when she tries her damnedest like this, no one should bother ever pretending to think differently - least of all, you - and certainly, not while your cock is hardening again in the wet heat of her mouth, under the curl of her tongue, the gentle touches of her fingers -
How can anyone ever bring themselves to tell her that she isn't completely, indisputably the greatest.
(The very, fucking best.
And in every other way: the woman of your dreams. A woman, you realize, you ought to endeavor to keep, in all manners, and forever.
Minju, who could probably do anything, and you, who just might be able to give it to her.)
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a-case-of-attachment · 3 months
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Okay, writing prompt if you're interested. LuciferXreader, making out in a pile of rubber ducks. It may be weird as hell, but also really cute and funny. AND!! Laughter is a healthy part of any relationship!
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Yes I’m interested!!!!!!!!!
I hope this is what you’re after, it kind of got away from me and I spent way too long thinking about what all those little duckies could do.
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Lucifer had a problem, one of his own making that was yellow and sometimes quacked, maybe barked, there was even ones that spoke backwards and in riddles. They came in all kinds of colours and did all sorts of things. He had a purple one that could teleport, a rainbow one that shot confetti out of its mouth when it was squeezed, he even had one that glowed in the dark and played lullaby’s. The point was that Lucifer had made a lot of rubber duckies over the years but he didn’t realise quite how many until he was looking for one specific duck.
“Where are you, you little piece of…” Lucifer grumbled, his words trailing off as he dived into another mountain of ducks, sending them tumbling down to join the rest that had spilled over the floor. He had been at this for a while now, sending his work room into chaos and all because Charlie had been telling Vaggie all about one she had seen him making when she was a child. She hadn’t asked him for it and Lucifer had honestly forgotten it existed until she had brought it up but she seemed so enamoured with it that Lucifer had decided there and then that he had to gift it to her as a reminder of happier times in her childhood. The only problem was that he couldn’t find the damned thing and he was quickly running out of patience.
“You alright there love?” Lucifers head jerks up and round at your amused voice, blinking dumbly at the sudden brightness of the room. Your leant against the door frame, eyebrows furrowed slightly but a teasing smile tugging up the corners of your mouth. You were a vision, a ray of sunshine through the grey cloud that had been steadily forming over him. “Yep! Everything’s fine. Hahaha. A oh kay. What erh, what are you doing here darling?” Lucifer laughed nervously, his cheeks heating up with embarrassment at being found in such a state.
He had abandoned his hat and jacket ages ago, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows and his gloves somewhere within the sea of ducks. Lucifer had unbuttoned his collar at some point, his bow tie pulled loose and hanging around his neck like a sad flat little snake. His face must be flushed by now and his hair that was once neat and styled probably looked more like a birds nest now, stick up in every direction and clinging to his forehead.
“Charlie called me. Seems someone has been ignoring her calls and texts for the past couple of hours and she wanted me to check in and make sure they hadn’t gotten so involved in a project they forgot to eat again. Clearly she was right to worry.” You gave him a pointed look, clearly expecting an answer for his current predicament. Bitting his lip Lucifer let his eyes sweep across the carnage that was his work room and the vast amount of ducks he still had to get through. He needed help or he was never going to get through all these, not any time soon anyway and who better to help him than you? He always wanted to spend more time with you and this would keep you in close proximity for quite some time. It was a win win in his books and he was damn sure going to take full advantage of it.
Groaning Lucifer let his shoulders slump and looked back to you, finding you in the exact same position you had been in before though your eyes had softened slightly now, worry starting to creep in at the edges. “I’m looking for a duck,” he stated, nodding slightly after he had spoken like it was that simple of an answer. “Oh really? Never would have guessed.” Lucifer glared at your sarcastic reply, huffing loudly and crossing his arms over his chest in an overly obvious display of indignation that you both knew was just for show. The gentle laughter his behaviour got him sounded sweet, even as you rolled your eyes and pushed away from the doorframe. He always liked the sound of your laughter, like music that soothed his soul and made his heart ache all at once.
“Alright your majesty, are we looking for one in particular or is this a know it when a see it situation?” You raised an eyebrow at him in question as you sank down onto one of the few spots of clear floor. “It’s made of crystal, has a really cute teeny tiny crown on its head.” You hummed at Lucifers words, your attention now firmly on the ducks that surrounded you. “And when did you last see it?” Lucifer winced at your question, tugging at his already loose collar and refusing to make eye contact with you when you glance in his direction. “I don’t know, maybe a couple of centuries ago. Charlie was about five or six at the time.” You made a weird choked off noise when he said centuries, Lucifer catching a glimpse of your hand slipping on the pile of ducks you had been looking at and sending a couple more tumbling to join the ones that Lucifer was already half buried under.
He offered you an apologetic smile and hopefully his best puppy dog eyes in an attempt to soften any sort of regret you might be feeling at having sat down to help him. It must have worked because you sighed heavily before rolling your shoulders back and sitting up straighter. “It’s fine, we’ll find it and when we do you are sooo going to make it up to me with back rubs and kisses.” Lucifer agreed readily, nodding his head and promising you that and a thousand things more. “Right! We are going to do this one duck at a time, sorting as we go. We will have four separate piles, one pile for the ones that are just rubber ducks with a unique paint job and another for the ones that do something useful.” Lucifer opens his mouth to protest because all his duckies are useful but a quick glance from you has him closing it before he can even get a sound out. “There will also be a pile for ones that do pointless things and another for the ones that are just plain dangerous.”
“They are not dangerous!” Lucifer insisted, snatching up a random duck and squeezing it to prove his point. There was a loud click followed by sound of metal grinding together and Lucifer looked down in horror as the barrel of a pistol slid out of the ducks now open mouth. “Hahaha, how did that get there?” Huffing you held your hand out expectantly and Lucifer reluctantly handed the traitorous thing over, making sure the postal was safely back in place first. Without a word you leant over and pushed a section of the ducks out of the way, clearing a patch on floor in front of you. The gun toting duck was place down gently, looking way too sweet and innocent for what it hid within.
You picked up one from next to you and held it out towards Lucifer. “What does this one do?” He squinted at the thing, turning his head slightly to the side as he tried to remember what this one did. It was yellow like most of them except this one had a red rimed beak that made it look like it had lipstick on. “Lipstick!” Lucifer shouted out triumphantly, his sudden outburst causing you to startle. “It’s lipstick, retro rouge if I’m not mistaken.” You turned the duck toward you, tilting your head quizzically as you squeezed at its sides. It’s beak parted as a stick of bright red lipstick emerged. “Huh,” you said, loosening your grip on the duck so the lipstick went back in before placing it on the floor a few inches away from the other duck. You picked up another, this one yellow with black spots and held it out towards him. “What about this one?”
This goes in for hours, one duck after another and though it would normally be a rather tedious Lucifer is having fun. Some of his duck creations really are bizarre, like the one that changes colour depending on the time of day in Hawaii or the one that screams whenever someone says pineapple. There are some good ones though, like the one that generates a personal forcefield that’s lasts up to an hour when placed on your head or the one that cleans your bath after you’ve used it. The useful pile was a lot smaller than the others though, the useless ones needing a whole corner of the room to themselves. You had even found one that said ‘I’m quackers about you’ in a squeaky voice when squeezed, a little heart shaped box of chocolates with Lucifers hat emblazoned on the front held between its wings.
Lucifer had refused to hand that one over, especially when he realised you intended to put it in the useless pile. A had sat there, cooing at the thing and stroking its head whilst you glared at him. So preoccupied with the duck Lucifer didn’t have time to prepare himself as you suddenly lunged across the space, hands grabbing for the sweet little ducky. The two of you had spent far too long rolling around the floor and tussling for the duck until finally you came to a stop, sprawled across Lucifer and the both of you breathing heavily. You were close, head hovering above his as you stared into one another’s eyes. All Lucifer would need to do is tip his head back and then he would be able to kiss you, one of his favourite things to do these days. His eyes dropped to your lips as your tongue snuck out to wet them, your teeth nipping at your bottom lip enticingly. Lucifer sucked in a deep breath, his hand flexing on your waist where it had ended up in your little play fight. Your head lowered slightly, eyes darting down to his lips then back to his eyes as if asking permission that you really didn’t need. From down by his hip there came a loud quack followed by ‘I’m quackers about you’ then another quack effectively bringing a sudden end to the tension growing between the two of you.
The two of you dissolved into laughter, Lucifer wrapping his arms around your middle as you buried your face in his neck. You lead there for a while, laughing softly until that trailed off and the two of you when just lead there, holding one another and surrounded by ducks. It had been nice if a little weird but Lucifer wasn’t complaining. “It’s true you know,” he said softly, not wanting to ruin the moment but his words had you shifting, pushing yourself up slightly so you could look down at him with confusion. “What is?” Your voice was just as soft as you spoke, the hushed tone adding to the intimacy of the moment. Sighing Lucifer reached up, cupping your check and rubbing his thumb gently across it. “I really and quackers about you,” he deadpanned.
The stunned silence that hangs between you goes on a lot longer than Lucifer thought it would and despite how hard he tries he can’t help the large smile that spreads across his face or the laugher that comes bubbling out. Groaning loudly you finished pushing yourself up into a sitting position, shoving Lucifer back down when he tried to follow. “You’re terrible,”you mumble, shifting back over slightly to avoid nocking into a stack of ducks. Lucifers still chucking when he sits back up, effortlessly catching the rubber duck you half heartedly throw at him. “Mmmm, and yet you still love me.” Lucifer wiggled an eyebrow at you, leaning in slightly to emphasise the ridiculousness of the gesture. This time it was you who couldn’t help but smile, huffing in amusement and shaking your head at him. “Yeah, I do.” Lucifer beamed like the cat who go the cream at your words, always feeling like his heart could take flight every time you told him you loved him. Truly a bizarre phenomenon that would need much more research done into it, requiring you to tell him often and in multiple ways how you felt about him. “Now come on, this bloody duck isn’t going to find its self.” Lucifer took the duck you held out to him, a hot pink one with a flame branded on its chest, and quickly lent forward to place a kiss on the back of your hand before he started telling you all about the duck and how it could be set on fire and wouldn’t melt.
That had been a good few hours ago though and night had settled heavy over the city since then. Over half the room had been cleared now, Lucifer having opened a portal and dumped all the colourful, boringly normal ducks onto a sleeping radio demon to create some extra space for you both. There was still no sign of the duck he was after though and the both of you were clearly tired, the process having slowed down considerably in the last half an hour or so. He’s beginning to think it’s a lost cause, the duck long since lost or broken.
You yawn loudly, arms stretching out above you before you fall back into the heap of ducks behind you. The groan you make sounds almost painful as you wiggle in an attempt to make yourself more comfortable amongst the ducks. Your eyes close, hands disappearing into the sea of yellow above you. Despite how horribly uncomfortable it must be you look content and Lucifer wants nothing more in that moment than to crawl over there and join you, curling up against your side and resting his head on your chest so you can both get some much needed sleep. As much as he wanted to give into temptation Lucifer was determined to find the duck for Charlie, fixated on giving her that little moment of happiness and wonder that had stayed with her since childhood. That didn’t mean you had to suffer with him though.
“I think it’s time you were getting to bed darling, I can finish up in here.” Your eyes open slightly at his words, brows furrowed and your smile slipping into a frown. “Lucifer.” There was an odd tone to your voice, one that he probably should have paid more attention to but Lucifer assumed he knew what you were going to say so he kept on talking, turning away from you to continue looking through the ducks as he did so. “I know. I should be trying to get some sleep as well but you know I won’t be able to, (Lucifer), not till I’ve found this duck anyway and I really just want to surprise Charlie with it. She seemed so happy when she was talking to Vaggie about it and I just wanted to, (LUCIFER!)” Your loud cry of his name had Lucifer jumping, dropping the duck he had been holding to the floor with a loud splat as it oozed out like a marshmallow melting in the sun.
Laughing nervously Lucifer turns back to you, an apology already on the tip of his tongue but it quickly disappears when he sees what you’re holding. You’ve sat up, eyes fixed on your hand that you’re holding out towards him. In your palm sits a crystal duck, a small black crown sat atop its head styled similarly to Charlie’s own. Lucifer sucked in a breath, reaching out to take the thing from you with trembling fingers. He can’t believe you had found it, just when he was starting to lose hope. You truly must be heaven sent.
Without warning Lucifer lunged at you, flinging his arms around your neck and sending you sprawling back into the ducks with a yelp. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” Lucifer said between peppering your face with kisses. “Lucifer,” you laugh, turning your head to the side and giving him access to your neck. He places a few more quick pecks along your neck and the top of your shoulder before placing one final one on your lips.
“She’s going to be so surprised,” Lucifer beamed, pushing himself back up and turning towards the door, a wide smile on his face as he stared down at the crystal duck clutched in his hand. He didn’t get more than two steps towards the door before fingers wrapped around his wrist and stopped him in his tracks. Frowning Lucifer looked back over his shoulder at you, finding you looking at him just as confused as he was you. “Where are you going?” Lucifer blinked down at you dumbly because surely that was obvious? “To give Charlie the duck?” It came out slow and sounding more like a question, Lucifer even holding up the duck in case you had forgotten.
Your confusion smoothed out into understanding, a small smile curling up the corner of your lips. “Lucifer,” you said almost teasingly, tugging gently on his wrist until he turned to face you fully. “It’s the middle of the night love. She’s going to be asleep, and even if she isn’t she’s probably going to be doing something she doesn’t want her dad walking in on.” You look at him pointedly, waiting for your words to sink in. “Oh…ohhhh,” lucifers eyes went wide, looking down at the little duck in a mix of horror and embarrassment.
You chuckle gently, tugging on his arm and causing him to take a step towards you. “So why don’t you,” you plucked the duck from his hand, leaning back to place it on top of the coffee table before turning back to him and wrapping your hands around his wrists, “come back here and finish giving me my reward hum?” You tugged him forward and down, Lucifer’s knees hitting the floor on either side of your waist with a dull thud. You used your hold on his wrists to lift his hands and place them on your shoulders before gripping his waist and pulling him down and closer until he was sat in your lap. Lucifer blushed, licking at his lips and swallowing slightly. “I eh, I can do that.” You hummed at his words, lifting one hand to cup his cheek and guiding his lips down to yours.
The first few kisses were soft and slow, Lucifer humming gently at the addictive feel of your lips moving against his. He sank into you, getting more comfortable on your lap and letting his arms drape over your shoulders. The two of you stayed like that for a few long minutes, Lucifer content to spend hours just like that but it seemed you had other ideas. Pulling back you nipped gently at his lip, Lucifer letting out a little whimper at the sudden sting. Resting your forehead against his you slid both your hands up his back, pressing him as close to you as he could get. “Hold on tight,” you mumbled, placing a kiss against his lips.
Lucifer barely had time to register what you had said before you were moving, effortlessly tipping him to the side and rolling him onto his back. He landed within the ducks with a dull thud, several of the stupid things tumbling down to land on his face. Your laughter was sweet as you helped remove the offending ducks off his face, leaving the ones that had fallen around his head and shoulders. “There you are handsome,” you smile as you remove the last one from his head, clearly delighting in the bush your words get you. “Your erh, looking rather radiant as well.” Lucifer cringes at his own awkward attempts at flirting, refusing to look at you because of how awfully that was. You would think he would have gotten better at this sort of thing over the centuries but there was something about you that just left him flustered and unable to say what he means when in your company. When you’re not around he can wax poetry about how your smile lights up the world like a sunbeam or how your eyes sparkle like the stars, but now? With you looking down at him like he’s your whole universe? Not happening.
You shift to the side slightly, slotting one of your legs between his and pressing up against him. “Only when you’re the one looking,” you whisper before pressing your lips against his, using his startled gasp as an opportunity to deepen the kiss. Lucifer moans softly, wrapping his arms around your neck and pulling you in closer. There’s a duck digging into his back and the sound of muffled quacking coming from somewhere above him as their movements caused another wave of ducks to fall down in them. It was ridiculous, kissing in a pile of ducks that were threatening to swallow the two of you up but Lucifer found he didn’t really care, especially when your tongue swiped across his lips, seeking permission that he readily gave. This here, this was the closest to heaven he had felt in eons and he was content to stay in this moment for eternity. Well at least till Charlie woke up anyway.
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spider-man-199999 · 11 months
Text
No need to hide it
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gif by @userjoel
pairing: college!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader; Post nwh; not too canon
word count: 6K
warnings: underage drinking for USA citizens; mentions of sex
summary: Peter thought no one remembered him after the spell, however you did, but not for the reasons he was afraid you would. Mostly fluff and slow burn romance.
a/n: I'm a sucker for college!Peter, I literally cannot think about anything else. ANY SCIENCE TALK IS A BUNCH OF BS I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT CHEMISTRY OR SCIENCE.
part2
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"Hey, catch!" you heard a male voice from somewhere behind you, making you turn towards the sound. A brown leather football flew throgh the air, landing in your feet. You picked it up, throwing it back to the shirtless man that was jogging in your direction.
"Thanks!!" He said after he caught it, running off back to whoever the other shirtless dude he was playing with was.
"Yeah no problem..." you muttered under your breath, trying to hide how flustered you were.
It was orientation week at Empire State University.
The weather, apparently, was still warm enough to have people running shirtless around campus, and being the shy, awkward geek you were, it was hard not to get embarrassed by any social interaction, let alone one that included both sport and a half-naked man. Overall, orientation week was going well. You checked out a few classes that sparked some interest, went to the library, the gym, even got completely settled in your dorm room. Things were going smoothly, excluding the fact you hadn't really met anyone new. Most of the people in your classes seemed like they already knew at least one person and stuck to them. Since you were not really the type to go out of your way and approach people, it left you walking around campus alone, sitting in class alone and even eating alone. It wasn't all that bad, just lonely. Your roommate hadn't arrived on campus yet either, so everything felt especially odd to you, like you were invisible to everyone. 
Four days in and the long walks between buildings were already annoying. It was so easy to get lost or distracted on the way between buildings. You didn't know the shortcuts yet, so it was always a hazard whether you would make it to class on time. Miraculously you got there early, and gave yourself a mental praise for that. You didn't expect to actually be in a lab on the first day of class, and were glad you got there on time because there were barely enough lab coats for everyone in the room. You really didn't want to be the freak who wasn't wearing one. You scanned the room as you sat down on one of the desks, secretly praying that this class wouldn't require having a lab partner or work in groups because it was going to make you feel even worse. And as you were stalking the people around you, your eyes landed on someone who looked suspiciously familiar. He wasn't terribly tall, curly brown hair, one backpack over his shoulder, flannel shirt over a plain white t-shirt and regular blue jeans. You could recognise Peter Parker from miles away. You've never felt so terrified and so excited at the same time. You finally knew someone in this university and it had to be him of all people. He never told you he was going to ESU. In his defense, you couldn't really recall ever speaking to him. You used to have the biggest crush on him back in high school, but never gathered the courage to actually chat him up, even if it were about homework. He never got assigned as your partner on a project either (no matter how many times you would fantasize about it), so you just graduated one day and accepted the fact it just wasn't meant to be. 
But now you were presented with the perfect opportunity to actually talk to him and decided to take it. Unfortunately, the class started before you could approach him. You tried your best to keep your focus on the professor, but it seemed as if that was not necessary, he was only going over the main goals of the class and what books you would need. You sneakily looked over Peter from time to time, thinking about what would be best to say to him and not make it awkward. 
The class was over in the blink of an eye, which made your heart beat pick up because you no longer had an excuse to not approach him. There was a line forming around the coat hangers, which you thought was going to be the best way to casually start a conversation. You cut the line when you saw Peter hang up his coat, putting yours next to his and smiling at him. He smiled back when the two of you locked eyes. 
"Hey" you said "Peter Parker, right?"
He looked a bit stunned by your question. First, he was starstruck because the prettiest girl he had ever seen came out of nowhere and greeted him and secondly, she knew his name. And that was not supposed to be like this at all. His mind was rushing and calculating how it were possible. Were you a supervillain from an alternate reality trying to expose him? Or did the spell just not work on you? All of the scenarios seemed very bad for him. 
The way he just sat there and said nothing was making you extremely nervous. It did feel like a terrible idea now that you had done it. 
"We used to take Spanish together in high school." you added, your voice shaking slightly from the anxiety. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything, I'm really sorr-"
"Wait Spanish?" he finally said, his theories crumbling down when he realized what was actually going on. You were no supervillain, just an old classmate. Yet, he was sure he would have remembered you. 
"I really don't remember..." he continued, feeling his cheek heat up.
"Oh that's fine, we never really... spoke? Like at all, I sat all the way in the back and no one could make me say a word."
He laughed softly at your words. 
"Wanna discuss this over coffee? If you don't have any other classes?"
"I'm free, so yeah, we could grab a coffee"
20 minutes later the two of you were laughing over how ridiculous you looked in the yearbook. Peter was holding your phone and looking at the photo in which you still had braces on, your eyebrows were so badly drawn on because you thought shaping them with a razor the night before was a good idea. It was not, you shaved off so much from one of them you had to fill it in. And since it was your first ever filling eyebrows in, it was very, very bad.  Also, your hair looked like it was made out of dark matter, because you recently had it dyed black, straightened it and accidentally put a bit too much hair oil on it. You were definitely not having a good time back then, but it was a small price to pay to hear Peter laugh so hard. A 4-month accutane treatment to acne and taking your braces off could really make a person change enough. It was a glow up and Peter could really see it now. 
"Okay now that I've seen that, I actually do remember you! You're the girl that got hit in the head with a basketball while tying her shoes on the bench during gym! Somehow you fell back and got under the benches so I had to pull you out."
"Oh no" you whined, hiding your face in your hands to hide how hard you were blushing. And he was right, that really did happen once, and it was that moment that actually started your little crush on him. You were probably 14 when it happened. You fell under the bleachers and felt so embarrassed that you froze on the spot, feeling like crying. People came running towards you, Peter beating them to it, and pulled you out by the hand. He dusted your shirt off and asked if you were alright. To your teenage mind he came in like a knight in shining armor, and it made you fall for him, very hard. 
''Come on, it wasn't that bad!" he said between laughs, giving your phone back. 
"It was bad, like really bad. How can your only memory of me be my worst moment in high school?''
"If that's your worst moment, you were doing good."
You took a sip from your coffee, your finger tracing the rim of the paper cup once you placed it down on the table. You really were regretting not talking to him in school, he seemed like such a nice person, you would have been good friends. 
"Why did you decide to go to ESU? I thought you had plans to go to MIT with your friends."
"Oh, I didn't get in."
"Yeah, totally sounds believable, Peter Parker, the Stark intern, highest SAT score in our grade, didn't get into MIT" you said sarcastically, shaking your head at him. 
He sighed, looking down at his hands. His leg started bouncing under the table and he suddenly seemed tense. Now it really did feel believable, based on his reaction. 
"Sorry, I didn't mean to..."
"It's okay, honestly I was so sure I would get in too, but I don't think I ended up at a bad place"
"Obviously you didn't, I chose ESU, which makes it the best place ever. And now that I know you're here too, I get double confirmation for that." 
He laughed softly at your words.
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A few weeks later you were actually glad to have to work in pairs in the lab because Peter asked you to be his partner. 
You arrived just before the class started, sitting down at the table and putting your protective goggles on. 
"Sorry" you said as you sat down next to him, taking the empty flask that was sitting in front of him and immediately starting to mix the things you managed to read on the board. 
Peter smiled at you as he watched you, doing his own thing which you didn't pay too much attention to. 
"Roommate problems again?" he asked. 
Being lab partners meant the two of you had to talk regularly, which led to getting closer. You didn't know many people there besides him and your nightmare of a roommate. 
"You have no idea." you sighed, dropping a few droplets into a test tube. The mixture inside started smoking up slightly, you swirled it around until it stopped, passing it to him so he could heat it up. 
"What did she do this time?"
"Locked me in and took both of the keys on her way out. I had to call her to come back and unlock, she was pissed."
"Still don't get how someone can be so rude to you for no reason."
"I don't think she hates me really, she hates the idea of me. Not every 3rd year student is keen on the idea of babysitting a freshmen, I totally get that."
Peter wrote something down in his notebook after the mixture started bubbling up. You looked at it, brows furrowing. 
"What's the temperature?"
"140 F" 
"Peter that's not supposed to happen" you said worried 
"Actually it is, you didn't have the time to read the board and put only half"
"Oh-"
He removed the test tube, letting it cool down.
"It's okay, we'll just multiply it by two."
"Sometimes I wonder what I would do if you weren't here."
"Probably blow up the place."
You rolled your eyes at him before the both of you laughed, continuing your work. You tried being more concentrated now, and for the most part it was working out. Until Peter would roll up his sleeves and expose his forearms. Or when he would take the goggles off to fix his hair. You tried staring as discreetly as possible, but he probably did notice it every time.
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That same night was your first ever frat party. You weren't really a fan of parties, the high school ones you went to were boring but you were hoping that college ones were going to live up to the hype everyone was giving them. Plus, you were trying to make amends with your roommate, and she wanted some alone time with her boyfriend back at your place. The idea of frat boys really turned you off, you had seen more than enough of them in class and around campus. 
The music was booming through the speakers as you entered the house, people were everywhere. You could barely squish through the crowd, it was barely 10 pm and people were already wasted. You really wanted to let loose that night too, so you made it over to the bar and took whatever drink was handed to you first. It was vodka. Tasted bitter and burned down your throat and stomach as you drank it. The stress from university and the complicated relationship with Ruth, your roommate, were really starting to get you. Add your unresolved feelings for Peter to the mix and you really do have a strong enough pressure to make you explode like a time bomb. So, you wanted to take some pressure off by drinking and dancing. No one knew you here anyway so it was relatively easy to just do whatever you wanted. 
Five shots of vodka were already in your system by the first hour. The dance floor was yours to take. A red plastic cup in your hand while you were swaying to the rhythm of the song playing, boys were coming from left and right to dance together. And you did dance with them, probably even made out with one or two as well. It continued for what felt like forever, until 2 am rolled around and you started feeling tired and wasted. And the alcohol in your blood was about to hit you in the worst way possible and make you overthink everything that was going on around you. At that point you were sat on a couch in the trashed living room and some dude was talking to you. His hand was on your knee. You were too preoccupied by your own thoughts to even listen to whatever he had to say.
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Peter hid behind his apartment building on campus, looking around to make sure no one would see him as he took off the spider-man costume. Ever since he went back to no one knowing his identity, he had to sneak around. He couldn't risk any of his roommates seeing him accidentally so he took the costume off outside after patrol, shoved it in his backpack and walked in. If anyone was ever awake and asked where he was, he would say either the library or doing lab work with you. He really did use you as an excuse a lot to his roommates, which gave them all kinds of wrong ideas. He didn't share a bedroom with anyone, which made his life so much easier, but there was a whole other bedroom with two boys in it in his apartment. 
No one was awake when he walked in, throwing his bag on the floor next to his bed. He felt shattered. The whole studying and spider-man business was draining his batteries like never before. Peter lay down on the bed, too tired to even get out of his jeans. He was rapidly drifting into sleep when his phone started ringing. He groaned in annoyance, looking at the screen only to see it were from you. Peter quickly picked it up, any feeling of tiredness leaving his body when he heard you crying on the other side of the phone. 
"Hey, hey, what happened? Are you hurt? Where are you?" he asked, panicked. 
"Ruth locked me out again." you cried on the phone "She left her key in, she was with her boyfriend and they were probably doing the deed and locked themselves and fell asleep."
You babbled really fast, he was trying to understand what you were saying but it was muffled by soft sobs. And you didn't sound sober either. 
"Peter, you fix all of my lab mistakes, please fix this."
He wasn’t sure what to do, especially since he didn’t know where you lived exactly. There weren’t many opinions in this situation, he could either find you and kick the door down so you could get in your place or he could take you in his room and let you sleep there. 
“Can you tell me where you are?” 
“In front of my dorm?”
“I don’t know where that is, genius”
You continued sobbing at his words, which made him feel even worse. You were very vulnerable and probably scared and he was acting poorly. 
“Okay, okay, sorry, I didn't mean that. Tell me where your dorm is and I’ll come fix it, okay?”
“It’s the one next to the library” 
He hopped out of his bed, rushing towards the building. 
When he got there he saw you sitting on the steps, looking down at your feet. 
"Hey" he said, standing in front of you, his hands in his pockets as he watched you slowly look up to him. Your eyes were red from all the crying and your cheeks were still wet from the tears. Peter sat down next to you with a sigh, the second he did that he could tell you had been drinking. The smell of vodka and cigarettes were all over your clothes. 
"Hi" you muttered back after a while, not really sure what to say or do at this point. 
"So what happened?" he whispered to you, bumping his shoulder into yours
"I got locked out, again" you whispered back, looking at him. He was smiling, a warm, comforting smile that made you feel so incredibly guilty that you called him. 
It made you realize what time it actually was, and that you probably woke him up. It was the middle of the night, and you woke up the closest thing you had to a friend here to help you. You ruined his sleep so he could save you from something you could have probably figured out on your own if you weren’t drunk. 
"Come on" he said, getting up and reaching out his hand to help you up as well. ''Let's get you out of here" 
You took his hand, the tears were welling up in your eyes again as you looked at him. He seemed so tired, yet he came rushing to your rescue. 
He walked in his room, trying to be as quiet as possible. 
"Wow you have a double bed??" you said as you looked around his room.
"Oh, yeah" he said, blushing when he saw the state of it. He didn't really think about making the bed before he left and the bedding looked like scrambled eggs with all the pillows and blankets everywhere. Peter didn’t want to look messing in front of you but it was too late for that.
"Lucky duck" 
Peter was kind enough to take out some clothes for you to sleep in while you showered. It was a spare pair of pajama pants and an old star wars t-shirt. He looked away while you got dressed and helped you into bed after that. 
"I can't thank you enough for this."
"Oh, you can, you can do my calculus homework."
The both of you laughed after that. He grabbed a pillow and a blanket, with the intention of sleeping on the couch. 
"Where are you going?"
"To sleep?"
"Not here?"
"Well, no-.... I-.... Don't want to invade...."
"I feel bad enough about it as it is, please come sleep in your bed, it's big enough" you whined.
Peter stood at the door. He really didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable, or crush you while he slept but at that point he was so shattered that the bed seemed like the best thing that could happen to him. You got up and pulled him towards the bed, grabbing the pillow and blanket with your other hand and throwing them on.
Peter was asleep the second his head hit the pillow, and you followed a minute or two later. It didn't feel as weird to sleep in the same bed as the two of you had anticipated. Maybe the alcohol helped. You were pretty sure that it was, in fact, the alcohol that made you call him, the one that insisted on sharing the bed as well. Sober you would probably be a flustered mess just from the thought of being in Peter's bedroom alone. 
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The second Ruth knew you had somewhere to sleep over, she took advantage of it. It was happening so often that you basically had a schedule when you would sleep over at Peter's. He didn't mind one bit because it was a reason to spend time with you. Plus, you did all your work for classes together, even in classes you or him weren't taking. So by the middle of the semester, you two were practically platonically dating. 
And it made you feel the worst and the best type of ways at the same time. You absolutely loved spending time with him and your feelings were only getting deeper and deeper with each day. Somehow, you still felt like you were taking away the college experience from him. He declined every party opportunity his roommates suggested, he rarely spoke to other girls and if he went out with friends from other classes, he would always make you tag along with them. Everyone thought that if you were not dating, then you were definitely hooking up, no matter how many times you denied it. Truth being told, it was actually kind of weird that you weren't doing either of those. And it got even weirder when someone else started expressing an interest in Peter.
Surprisingly enough, even to yourself, you actually liked going to parties. The alcohol helped you loosen up and talk and since Peter actually had other friends, now you knew some people here and there. You would always find someone to chat with at a party and you learned that socializing wasn't at all as scary as it seemed before. 
Tonight you found yourself at a random party in some basement of the dorm on the other side of campus. You knew that you'd be home late so the arrangements of staying over at Peter's were already made. As you were speaking to someone from your beginner-friendly biology class, a girl approached you. She was tall, way taller than you, had long dark hair and an amazing body. She grabbed your arm and said your name in a questioning tone. You nodded slightly taken aback from the interaction. 
"Can I borrow you for a second?" she asked, turning to the other person in an apologetic smile. 
"Sure."
She pulled you a bit away, still holding your arm right above the elbow. The whole thing was making you tense for some reason. 
"I'm sorry that I asked like this." she said, letting your arm go. "Actually, we've met before, I take calculus with Peter Parker, he brought you over at one of our group study sessions."
"Oh. Right." you did remember her now, but she looked slightly different with heavy makeup on. She definitely looked like one of the it girls on campus and you got the impression that she actually was. 
"So I wanted to ask if you and Peter were a thing?"
Once again you were stunned by a question from her. You looked around for some reason, she was making you feel uneasy. 
"Um, no, we're not."
"Great!" she said with a bright smile. "Do you think he'd be into me? He has this nerdy sex appeal, I actually really want to get with him."
You were blinking in disbelief towards her. This whole thing was really not making you feel well about your situation. She was gorgeous and she wanted to fuck your crush, it was going to end badly for you. You felt something like a ball in your throat that you knew even the gin couldn't wash down. 
"Well, good luck with that." you said, patted her shoulder and walked away before you started crying in front of her.
The whole situation really put you in a bad mood. There was nothing particularly wrong with it, but it managed to burst the bubble you were so peacefully living in. It got you wondering if Peter had his eyes on someone, if he was sleeping around with different girls, if he was going on dates. You kept imagining it, and drinking to try to stop, but nothing seemed to help. You couldn't spend every waking second with him to know, plus he never talked about girls with you. You didn't know who he was texting, or if he were going out with someone and not telling you. You were sure he wasn't because no girlfriend would ever feel okay with some random girl sleeping over as much as you did. Then again, he could be hooking up with someone, you were only sleeping over two or three times a week. 
You were so preoccupied by your worries that you almost didn't pick up your phone when Peter called. He said he finished whatever work he had to do and was going to come to the party and pick you up. It made you even more anxious. 
He walked through the door 15 minutes after the phone call. The whole thing was a sensory overload for him, the music was way too loud, the colors were too flashy, people were everywhere. He was constantly on edge because people were walking a little too close and his reflexes were being triggered. He hated parties. He hated the idea of you liking them even more. With the amount of time the two of you were spending together in the last few months, he grew very attached, he even developed a little crush of his own, but he was too terrified to admit that. Given his background and his secret, he wasn't too sure he wanted to put you through what MJ had gone through. He felt like it would be unfair to lie to you at the same time, it's not something you could hide from the person you're dating. 
People greeted him here and there, giving him brofists and handshakes. Peter really felt like a real frat boy, but he hated the experience. He froze in his tracks when he saw a girl that looked just like you making out with some dude. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, his chest tightened and it felt like someone set his lungs on fire. You were wearing black skinny jeans and a black top, hair was tied in a bun and your tongue was in someone's mouth. Was that why you sounded so weird on the phone? Was that why you waited so long to pick up? Peter was too stunned to even move so he just stood there in shock for a few seconds. He felt a hand on his shoulder, which made him snap out of it, turning his head. He met your eyes when he looked down, giving you a confused look. His head turned back to the other you that was still exchanging saliva with a guy, then back to the actual you. He finally started breathing again. Your outfit was actually nothing like the girl's, you had a long-sleeved light blue dress on that had a v-cut. It made you look really desirable and the way the color mixed so well with the lighting in the room, you looked like you walked straight out of Peter's dreams. He was practically trying to take pictures of you with his eyes for later. 
"What?" you asked as you noticed his stare, looking at your dress for accidental spills or any signs of why he was looking at you like that. 
"Nothing, actually." he said, taking the cup you were holding and finishing whatever was in it. He didn't really care what was in, alcohol had little to no effect on him but he liked to pretend. 
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You expected to go home shortly after Peter's arrival, but things didn't play out that way. The girl that talked to you about him earlier tonight saw the two of you and came over to chat. After 15 minutes of them talking and you awkwardly standing there, holding an empty cup in your hand, you were feeling more annoyed than ever. And pretty drunk too. You were already in a bad mood because of her, and when Peter suggested walking her to her dorm you just felt like crying. Your feet were killing you because of the heels you were wearing and you made sure to inform him but he seemed to have forgotten about that. 
And now, all three of you were walking around campus to get her safely to her room. You were giving them a side eye the whole time while she tried to scoot over closer to him. And when she said she was cold she could offer his flannel, you rolled your eyes so hard you got scared they'd get stuck and not come back. Unfortunately, they did come back and you had to witness him putting his shirt over her shoulders. Once at her dorm, she even had the audacity to kiss his cheek before walking in. It made him blush, and you, you were really about to throw up at that point. It felt like a very weird game of chess, and she had checked you in it. 
"Are you okay?" Peter asked when he saw how you looked. Gorgeous, he thought, but kind of pale and like you would collapse any second. 
"No" you said, your eyes meeting his. You could see the lipstick stain on his skin from the other girl and now you really did feel like throwing up. You were only 3 steps away from him and he made them so fast you felt like he teleported. 
"No, no, Peter, step away" you told him, your hand covering your mouth while you rushed to the nearest trash can and actually threw up. He rushed after you, holding your hair as you did. 
"You didn't look THAT drunk."  he said, patting your back while you were coughing. 
"This is so embarrassing" you cried softly, as if this night wasn't humiliating enough. 
"There, there, I hope you got it all out because I am not changing my sheets for the second time today." 
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"I'm thinking about switching my field of studies." you said, looking at Peter. 
He took his glasses, looking at you in disbelief. He was sat at his desk, trying to solve a math problem while you were lying on his bed, playing on your phone. 
"Chemistry doesn't do it for you anymore?" he asked mockingly.
"No, I just hate spending so much time with you." you replied in the same tone, sticking your tongue out at him. 
It had been a week since the whole party thing. You didn't throw up at his place, but you did have the worst hangover of your life. Peter helped you through it, but didn't pass up an opportunity to make fun of you.
"Then why are you here? I'm sure there's a party somewhere on campus."
"Shut upppp" you groaned, throwing a pillow at him. He caught it mid air and put it on the back of his chair before turning to finish his work. 
It felt like it was too early to sleep but you didn't have anything better to do since Peter was so busy with math. You turned on your side, facing the wall, since you liked sleeping on the side next to the wall, and closed your eyes. You didn't know how long it had been but you were definitely asleep when you got woken up by a knock on the door. You looked up with confusion, half asleep when Peter gave you an apologetic smile and got up from his chair to check who it was. 
He assumed it was one of his roommates that either lost or forgot his key, but he was surprised to open the door to his calculous classmate. 
"Hey, Pete." She said "May I come in?"
"Sure-" he said, letting her in
The girl walked over to the couch and sat down. 
"Remember last week when you gave me this shirt?" 
"I do." he said, only now noticing what she was wearing. It was his flannel, with a belt around her waist.
"Well, I came to return it." she said, unbuttoning it and taking it off. She got up, only in her underwear and walked towards him, handing him the shirt.
Peter was so flustered that he had to stare at his feet the whole time. 
"I think you got the wrong idea here-" he started, squeezing the flannel in his hand.
"About what?" she asked, squatting down in front of him so he could see her, and, well, you know...
Just as he was about to move, the door of his bedroom flew open. You stood there, wearing his shirt as your pajamas, double taking on what you were seeing. You didn't think there would be anything serious happening, but the chatter was disturbing your sleeping attempts and you wanted to check what was going on. But now you were just frozen in your spot, staring at a half-naked girl that was on her knees in front of Peter. Both of their heads turned towards you, staring in the same amount of disbelief. It felt like your worst nightmares had turned into reality. Neither of you knew what to do or what to say and you just stood there in silence, the tension so heavy it could suffocate someone. 
"It's not what it looks like." Peter managed to say, holding eye contact with you. 
''I'm so sorry, I didn't know-'' she started, getting up from the floor. 
"I think I'll pretend I dreamt that and go back to sleep." you said, closing the door before anyone could do or say anything else. 
"Peter, I didn't know, she told me you two weren't a thing last week."
He handed her the shirt, not even bothering to look at her. 
"We're not. You can keep this, go home."
She walked to the door, stopping at it to look at his back. 
"I'm really sorry, if I can do anything, tell me." 
"Goodnight."
He knocked gently on the door before walking in. He saw you tucked in the bed, hugging one of the pillows. You weren't really sure what to feel right now and you were trying your best not to cry. It wasn't like the things between you had changed and you had no right to be upset over his personal affairs. Peter sat on the bed next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. 
"I know you're not sleeping, can we talk about this?"
"Talk about what?"
"What happened back there."
"There is nothing to talk about."
"I don't want you to get the wrong idea."
You sat up, still hugging the pillow. You pressed the back against the wall, looking directly into his eyes.
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why don't you want me to get the wrong idea? Whatever that is supposed to mean."
He looked at his lap, unsure of what to say next. 
"Because I'm not that kind of guy."
"Peter, it's none of my business what you do for fun."
"For fun? You think I do this for fun?"
"You're not doing math for fun, that's for sure."
"Are you always a bitch or is it a defense mechanism?"
"You were the one who wanted me to ''not get the wrong idea'' and suddenly I turned into a bitch?"
"Okay, I overstepped on that one. Nothing happened there, I haven't talked to her or seen her since we left the party together and you threw up."
"Okay, for some reason I believe that, but why should it be concerning me?"
"Stop pretending."
"Excuse me?"
He didn't say anything after that, just pulled your arm so you could get closer to him and kissed you. It happened so fast you couldn't really process it. Once the shock was over, you kissed him back. You probably looked like a teen movie kissing scene, you on your knees and arms while he was sitting, one arm for support and the other one cupping your face as you kissed. 
"I should have done this way sooner." he said after you parted.
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dalliancekay · 11 days
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We've been talking for millions of years
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Aziraphale was clearly taken by Angel!Crowley from the moment he met him. I think the 6000 years could be read as when the whole human breeding thing starts. Even God says there's been many nice days in the Garden. How many? The count didn't start until the day they left Eden I think. When we meet Aziraphale and Angel!Crowley in Before the Beginning, Earth was still an idea in the works. And the War didn't happen. Or Crowley surely would have been more cautious. So I hope they have met and talked and Crowley grumbled about how unfair it all was.
And Aziraphale tried to placate him that it will all work out somehow, there’s a Plan. And they kept meeting, Crowley showing Aziraphale the prettiest corners of the universe, Aziraphale telling Crowley exciting developments re: Earth.
I wouldn’t try to guess at how far their relationship has gone… maybe relationships of the kind we know now weren’t invented yet and still, these two loved each other without knowing anything about it. After all, no other angels seem to have ANY relationships of any kind. Apart from higher or lower levels of condescension towards each other.
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Then the Great War came and tore them apart. After knowing each other for millions of years and their close more-than-friendship, their world falls apart. After all, Crowley tried to do the right thing. And Aziraphale did too but it wasn’t to be. Yet. But. Their story wasn’t finished yet.
Aziraphale is relieved when he’s sent down to Earth to guard the brand new humans from the demons he has heard that the damned angels have been turned into. He’s a bit fearful about the whole thing but glad to be away and keen, if a bit anxious to see the project he’s discussed/worked on for so long.
Crowley hates Hell. He hates it cos it’s not what he wanted or what he thought he was joining. He has been lied to. He’s not regretting his decision to turn his back on Heaven, no. He still thinks they’ve made too many crappy decisions. But he despises what the Rebellion became.
When Beelzebub asks for a volunteer to go up to the new planet and tempt the fresh innocent human couple into joining them, he volunteers, even if only to escape the claustrophobic walls and the mess nobody ever clears up.
Tempting comes easy to him. He imagines talking to his lost friend. ‘But why wouldn’t you try fruit from this one tree. What’s the problem with knowing things anyway? Wouldn’t you want to decide by yourself Eve? And Eve does make a decision.
Crowley’s worried now. Not for himself. He’s without hope but did he hurt humans by doing this. He didn’t mean to. He doesn’t really want them to go to Hell. Or Heaven for that matter. He only thinks they should be free to make their own choices. If only he had someone to talk to.
He spotted a distant angel earlier. Reminded him of, of… the light hair...anyway. They held a flaming sword but surely he can dodge that if needs be. He could just try for a simple chat. He has no idea how demons are talked about in Heaven. But he guesses the angel might just try to smite him. Worth the risk. Everything feels so raw and strange here. Maybe stealing a bit of familiarity will help him settle his nerves.
He decides to slither over and ask how the angel feels about what’s been done. Will they be furious. Hurt? Guilty? Oh. It’s him. It’s too late now. Always too late. It’s him. Aziraphale. Aziraphale. It is HIS angel. What is he going to do. FUCK! Well. No better way to find out. He could just tease him like the old times. What's the worst that can happen.
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Shitfuck but he smells good. These new senses will take a while to get used to: “Well that went down like a lead balloon.” A lead balloon? Whatthefuck even is that. Oh for Someone's sake.
Aziraphale’s standing on top of the Garden wall, squeezing his fingers with worry - what exactly has happened. What has possessed him to give away his sword. Did he disappoint God? Heaven? It doesn’t FEEL wrong to help them. If only he had someone to talk to.
Another angel? What. A snake? Oh. Oh. They are changing. Could it be? His heart will surely explode into million pieces…!!!! A lead balloon?!? “Sorry what was that?” Does he remember me? I think he does. I think he does. He’s here. As lovely as always.
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I’ll keep him safe. Safe. I will keep him safe this time.
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eitaababe · 1 year
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KISS IT BETTER !
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ao'nung x metkayina reader.
a/n — sorry guys it's been a reallyyy rough past few days some shit has gone down but here's a lil drabble while i finish a fic 🫶 / also they're like 18 in this for sake of plot !
To say you and Ao'nung didn't get along would be an understatement.
You two always argued, no matter how little or how big. From the way your hair was done, to who couldn't hold their breath as long, who was better on an ilu, you name it.
Though, despite you not being able to see eye to eye with him, you were always close with his younger sister. You were attached to the hip ever since children, and you spent practically your whole lives with each other, pretty much growing up together. You also grew close with her family, spending many dinners over at her marui.
So of course, you always had to see her brother.
Tsireya wasn't blind. Pretty much anyone could see the way you two acted around each other. And if they couldn't see it, they could certainly hear it. There wasn't a minute you could be in the same vicinity as each other and not throw insults at each other.
However, nobody really knows how or why you're like that. It's almost as if you were born into the world and just decided to hate each other.
And so you're sitting in between Tsireya's legs, her doing a new hairstyle for your hair and you whining about her brother once more. "I just don't get it," you complained, huffing in annoyance. "He really thinks he can insult me with a face like that! 'You'll never be able to get a boyfriend looking like that, y/n'," you gruffly mimicked, inaccurately impersonating his voice. "As if he's any better! Like you're the one who can't keep a girlfriend. He's projecting, I'm telling you."
Pulling extra tight on a certain braid you yelped, glaring over your shoulder. "Y/n, you seriously have a problem," Tsireya stated, sighing. "I mean if you really hate my brother so much, just don't talk to him. You both are around each other a lot for people who claim to hate each other so much."
"It's not my fault!" You quickly replied. "I swear, he's everywhere. I want to go clear my mind and go for a swim? He's already there. I want to feed the ilus? Apparently he was planning on going on a ride. I want to stop by and have dinner with my best friend? He-"
"Lives there, Y/n. He lives there," Tsireya finished for you. "I'm just saying. He may be my brother, but if he pisses you off that much you don't have to talk to him. He's good at riling people up. Especially you." She commented, finishing your hair and patting your shoulder lightly for you to turn around.
"He could piss anyone off with the things he says," You grumbled, shoulders drooping when you fell under Tsireya's disapproving gaze. "Fine. I'll try to not let him get to me. Starting now."
"Oh that's lovely, because he's right behind you."
"What-"
"Hi sister," he paused, eyes glancing to you in distaste. "Y/n."
"Ao'nung." You acknowledged him blandly, trying to take your friend's advice and not be disturbed by his mere presence.
"Mother wants you home for dinner," He continued, letting out a sigh before going on. "They invited you too." He finished, not sparring a glance your way before turning around and walking back.
"That went better than expected." Tsireya grinned, grabbing your arm and taking you to her own marui.
"Wait until dinner."
Dinner was going better than expected. You and Ao'nung hadn't argued yet, considering you chose to ignore him and he did the same. Your parents had joined the dinner as well, so you had no other choice but to be respectful.
Your calm nature soon disappeared as you heard the words coming from your parents mouths.
"What?" You exclaimed in disbelief, Tsireya sitting next to you with a shocked expression.
"Really, we think it's for the best."
"No offense or anything, but have you met Ao'nung? I can barely stay in the same room with him, nevertheless spend the rest of my life with him!" You complained, ignoring the stern looks from your parents. "It won't work. Me and Ao'nung, we don't work well together."
"For once, I agree." The boy finally spoke, not looking up from the table.
"Y/n, Ao'nung, I know this is unexpected, but we've all talked about it. You would make a great mate for Ao'nung. We'd like you two to be mated soon before Ao'nung chooses a girl us or the clan would not approve of."
You noticed how his jaw clenched at the comment, yet he stayed silent. You closed your eyes, trying to accept your fate. When you both fell silent, everyone got up and started to exit the room. "We'll give you two some privacy."
You watched as they all left out the marui, turning towards the male. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"It's my mother, I doubt anything I would've said would have made a difference."
"Of course it would! You're her son!"
"You're just so stubborn, aren't you?" Ao'nung suddenly shouted, standing up now. "Thinking you can have everything your way? We have duties, y/n. Grow up."
"Clearly, I'm the only one who's thinking rationally right now! How can you be willing to spend the rest of your life with someone you can't stand?"
"Well like it or not, it's happening. Deal with it, because you're not going to change our parents' minds."
"I can't believe you," you scoffed. "I hope they don't expect me to love you. I can't see who would." You walked out furiously, stomping back towards your own marui.
"Oh, you're one to talk!"
The next few days you two kept your separate ways, but both of you knew your parents wouldn't let it stay like that. They'd practically set up a date for you guys, claiming it's so you could 'settle the feud'.
So you woke up, already in a bad mood, putting minimal effort into getting ready. You headed outside your marui, grumbling what sounded like a farewell to your parents, blood boiling at the sight of the boy who was waiting for you on the beach.
"Y/n." He gruffly greeted you, not meeting your eye.
"Ao'nung." You acknowledged him back, mind drifting back to the other night. Were you too harsh with your words? It was possible you could've gotten caught up in the heat of the moment, and if you were forced to spent the rest of your life with him, you should at least try to be civil.
"...how are you?" You inwardly cringed at yourself, making an awkward attempt to make conversation.
He sent a questioning look your way, realizing what you were doing. He almost wanted to laugh at how out of place you looked. He decided to play along, for whatever reason. "Okay. You?"
"I'm good."
The both of you didn't talk much for the rest of the day, but you didn't argue either, so maybe you were showing signs of improvement. You walked along the beach quietly, the occasional tight-lipped smile, or a hum in response to one of your or his attempts to make some small talk.
Your hangouts usually went like that, you'd greet each other and walk, tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. You were too scared to say anything about it, or change the newly made routine, until Ao'nung seemingly had enough.
"Y/n," he sighed out tiredly, stopping and turning to face you fully. "This isn't helping us at all. All we're trying to do is not argue every time we're around each other. We're not fixing anything, hell, we're probably making it worse. Even if we can't love each other, shouldn't we be able to get to know one another?"
You stood silent for a moment, considering his offer. "I hate it when you're right," you deadpanned, dropping the 'nice' act. "It's just so irregular. Why would I want to be stuck with you?"
"Cmon, I struck peace and you're insulting me?" He teased, flashing a rare grin to you.
"Stop smiling, people are gonna start thinking you want to be around me." You told him, walking off.
Ao'nung went after you, chuckling to himself. "I won't make it a habit then!"
To everyone's surprise, you were finally starting to get along. You acted like friends, even if neither of you would necessarily admit it. You were spending your time with Tsireya, deeming you'd spent too much time with her brother.
"I can't believe I actually saw you smiling in the vicinity of Ao'nung." She teased, laughing once you rolled your eyes.
"Oh shut up. We're basically going to be with each other for eternity, we had to stop hating each other at some point."
"He was talking about you the other day at dinner, actually. If I didn't know any better I'd say he's taken a liking to you."
"Absolutely not!" You denied, shaking your head. "We're not like that. Like at all. We're just friends now, okay? We don't see each other that way."
"Whatever you say."
What the two of you didn't notice, however, was that the boy heard the two of you talking, heart slightly sinking. Could you really not tell how he felt?
And oddly enough, he felt even more determined to prove how he did.
To your shock, Ao'nung started making advances towards you during your scheduled hang outs. They were subtle, but you noticed the slight flirting, or how his touch would linger on you longer than usual.
You didn't think much of it however, considering you just went from enemies to friends in the span of maybe two weeks. You were right to do so, when you spotted him with another girl one day.
When you first saw them, you really could've cared less. Ao'nung was popular, and knew many people. If he had friends who were girls, it didn't matter. Everyone knew you were each others promised mates, and the word quickly spread since people knew of your dislike for each other.
You trusted Ao'nung, he was not only your betrothed but your duties were to each other, and he wasn't dumb enough to try and change that.
At least you thought.
Their second interaction, you saw the same girl, Mau. She was a sweet girl, you knew her through Tsireya. You watched quietly from afar as the two talked animatedly, large smiles and their laughter heard from where you stood. You hid behind a smaller palm tree, it's leaves shielding you from their view.
You couldn't quite hear what their conversation was, so you settled for just watching. You were shocked when she pressed a kiss to his cheek, and how he turned purple in response. You denied how you felt your heart drop to your stomach, and deemed that their conversation should be private and hurried to leave.
In the midst of rushing out you accidentally walked right into one of the leaves, your lip getting cut in the process. "Oh, fuck." You cursed underneath your breath, hoping no one could see you leave. You sprinted away to another part of the beach, moving over to the marui near the ilus.
Ao'nung squinted his eyes at the sight of someone running away, thinking it oddly resembled you. A wave of adrenaline quickly hit him when he realized you might have seen Mau, and he jumped up in panic. "I'm so sorry, I have to go." He excused himself, rushing after you.
He found you with the ilus, smiling when he heard you talking nonsense to them. He cleared his throat, "You seriously have got to make some new friends."
You froze at his voice, almost turning around but realizing he'd see the wound on your lip. You stayed in place, back turned to him as you kept feeding the creatures. "Don't be salty I have more friends than you, even if they can't talk."
"In your dreams, hun," He teased, sitting down next to you, confused when you turned away from him. Concerned, and a little scared you saw his previous interaction, his head followed yours, trying to meet your eyes. "What's wrong?"
You pursed your lips, turning around and eyes widening when you realized how close his face was to yours. Afraid of talking and showing him your cut you only shrugged, shaking your head.
"Why are you holding your lips like that?" He questioned, making you hot with panic. "It makes you look even more stupid."
"Oh just shut up." You mumbled, figuring there was no way out of this. You lowered your head, but not before he could see your wound.
"What happened?"
You really just wanted to let the ocean swallow you whole.
"I ran into a tree."
"While eavesdropping?" He laughed, seeing the way your head quickly perked up, the caught look on your face.
"I didn't- I mean-"
"Oh don't worry, I know you were just questioning my loyalty. I mean with a face like this, there's loads of girls after me. Had to break many hearts knowing I was promised to you."
"Keep telling yourself that. And if I was testing your loyalty, you definitely failed. Not that I mind, but who lets other girls kiss them when they're promised to someone else?"
"If you're jealous, just say that," he simply shrugged, smirking at you. "I turned Mau down, by the way. Told her I was already to be mated with another."
"Oh," you couldn't help but let out a breath of relief. "Your parents will be happy to hear that."
Rolling his eyes at your ability to not take a hint, he only sighed. "Yeah, sure."
Ao'nung then refocused on your lips, looking at the cut. "You know, we should really do something about that."
"It doesn't hurt that much."
"You should let me kiss it better."
"What?" You exclaimed, looking at him incredulously.
"You heard me."
Not bothering to hear your response his lips pressed against yours gently, in fear of making the cut any worse. His hand came to rest against your jaw as his lips moved slowly. You felt him smile against you before he quickly pecked your lips again, pulling away with a smug look. "Feel any better?"
"I'm not sure, you might have to kiss it better again."
a/n — I FINALLY POSTED AGAIN. WRITERS BLOCK IS A BITCH.
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01zfan · 1 month
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stress relief | o. sh
boyfriend!shotaro x fem. reader | 6k words
this fic was fueled by a request and a compilation i saw of him using his hands…shotaro we freaking love you. listened to too sweet by hozier while writing this. not proofread.
contains: using toys
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shotaro woke up before the sun did. he dreaded hearing his alarm so much that he often found himself waking up before it had the chance to go off. every week thursday’s loomed over him like a dark cloud. 
each thursday was shotaro’s dedicated day of the week that he would be in the office from sunrise to sunset. he never considered himself to be an early bird, the exact opposite actually. most days it wouldn’t be until ten in the morning before he could speak, but every thursday he was forced to arrive before everyone else got there. 
shotaro would drink his black coffee while walking around the office, assigning roles for next projects. he would be desperately trying to get himself awake while getting clerical things in order before the teams arrived. during the day, shotaro was in charge of checking that the projects he managed were on track to be completed by the deadline. after everyone left, he would spend an hour or so taking notes on current problems in the projects and how to fix them. 
shotaro always thought that as he moved up the corporate ladder he’d have less responsibilities, or atleast more people to pawn them off to. but when he became lead project manager he suddenly had more things he was in charge of and his allotment of errors in his work greatly depreciated. sometimes he couldn’t believe he went from being the assistant that was on his phone all day to the leader of multiple teams, and how important it was for him to always be right. shotaro shook his head and rubbed his eyes to refocus on the computer screen. he believed that if he thought about his obligations too much, that nasty habit he had of biting his bottom lip would return.
the sun had gone down when shotaro was able to finally leave. he was the last one out, turning the lights off behind him locking the doors. he sighed heavily, letting his shoulders sag in relief as he made his way down the sterile office hallways. at first he was scared to be in the office by himself at such late hours, but now he couldn’t care less. on thursday nights the only thing on shotaro’s mind was getting home.
on his way home he turned the music up a little higher than usual, drumming along to the beat on the steering wheel and singing loudly. at each stoplight he got impatient, waiting for the light to turn green. shotaro looked to his phone in the empty passenger seat, waiting for his lockscreen to light up from a notification. it wasn’t fair that after the long day he had at work red lights were stopping him from coming home. he drove safe, resisting the urge to floor the pedal to get home faster.
shotaro’s patience was already dwindling when he exited the office. by the time he made it to the apartment building he was almost a completely different person. when the elevators were taking shotaro up to your shared apartment, he impatiently checked his watch each time it stopped on a floor that wasn’t his. something was eating away at him. the something started in his mind when he thought of you. once shotaro got started he couldn’t stop. he spent all day letting the thoughts of you marinate. he thought about you working from home, taking naps, and meandering around the apartment in between breaks. you probably haven’t left the apartment once. you probably hadn’t eaten either. shotaro thought about your routine all day, if you were still sleeping when you had set so many alarms the night before. 
shotaro knew you had spent the day sleeping and the night working when he walked through the front door. the apartment was the exact same as when he left it in the morning. the day passed by in the apartment without a single thing changing. everything was still off, the low glow of a computer screen coming from the bedroom being the only light. shotaro shook his head and smiled while setting down his things. all those alarms were useless—shotaro knew you had hit the snooze a thousand times before finally getting up. 
he broke your concentration when he opened the bedroom door. your eyes that was focused on the computer screen snapped up, almost embarrassed that shotaro caught you so stressed over work. 
when shotaro got promoted in his job, you became the carefree one in the relationship. the one that had the luxury of going to bed at a reasonable time and the one that would wake up for the sunrise. the role you had was easy, funded by your boyfriend who worked a corporate job and bought you whatever you wanted. you still had your own job, one that was remote and you could choose your own hours. 
your role in the relationship was something you were very dedicated to. you made the point to give shotaro health tips, to help him destress after a long day. you had been so relaxed you forgot what it was like to be stressed. to have your jaw clenched so hard it felt sore, or to have that feeling of failure loom over you like a dark cloud. 
when shotaro came through the door you had forgotten what time it was. you looked back quickly to your phone, where a reply to your boyfriend was unsent in your messages. both of you knew it was locked away to limit distractions. shotaro knew it was necessary but he hated it so much. without your get home safe text he had to be extra safe on the road, and without seeing your face shotaro almost forgot why he was working so hard at his job.
“you don’t have to be so quiet when you come in, ya know.” you said.
shotaro smiled, a hand going underneath your chin to squeeze gently. he knew he was dramatic, but he had almost forgotten what it felt like to touch you. feeling you underneath his fingertips eased the stressed of the day and seeing you smile only made him smile harder. he was always so quiet when coming home late, careful to not wake you. each time he did it you had to remind him it was unnecessary, and each time he shrugged his shoulders before saying it’s a habit. 
“it’s late.” shotaro made his way past you to sit on the bed. he plugged in his phone as he sat on the edge, setting it on the bedside table. “i thought you would be asleep by now.” he said.
you didn’t look up from your screen, resting your head on your propped up knee while you continued to type. shotaro watched the back of your head move while you reread lines, trying to make sure you weren’t rambling due to exhaustion.
“got a late start today.” you said.
shotaro hummed, knowing he was right that you got up late. you probably haven’t even eaten, only getting up for a quick snack that burned right through you. shotaro continues to look at your back as he gets himself undressed. he starts with his socks, a checkered colorful pair you got him for his birthday. he went with his dress shirt next, undoing each button slowly and take it off. shotaro got his pants last, making a point to be a little louder taking off his belt and letting the pants fall to the floor. 
he was only a little embarrassed to admit how badly he needed your attention. usually it was shotaro coming home to you already in bed, all he had to do was get undressed before sliding into the sheets next to you. it was almost primitive how shotaro instantly felt happy, how the stress from the day melted off of him just by being on the receiving end of your affection. he would slide into the sheets and you would pull him in close, before murmuring that you missed him.
shotaro working at an office and you working from home caused a chasm in your perception of workplaces. when shotaro was in the office, he was professional. he was the leader his company needed, and was serious about his work. in the bedroom, he was needy. he needed to always be touching you, or talking to you. so seeing you treat the bedroom like an office space still through shotaro for a loop. if you had turned around, or stopped typing for a moment just to look back he could’ve been sated. but you stayed focused on the screen, only taking a break to stiffly straighten your back.
when you went back to your hunched position, shotaro felt his fingers start to move. he got up from his side of the bed, walking over to you. he put his hands on your shoulders before pressing gently. you stiffened for a moment before relaxing slightly. shotaro tried not to think about the possibility of you forgetting he was even in the room still when he started gently prodding your back. when shotaro felt the knots beneath your skin, he wasted no time driving his fingers deep until you tried to move out of his hold.
“shotaro that hurts.” you complained.
you didn’t even throw a glance over your back before going back to your terrible posture. shotaro looked at the digital clock. it was too late in the night for both of you to be awake—or atleast too late for both of you to not be in bed.
”you are going to destroy your back doing that.” shotaro said.
he went back to the knots on your back, gently until you eased underneath his touch. shotaro almost wanted to laugh, now it was him giving you tips on your health and him trying to help you ease your stress. 
he almost thought you would laugh at it too, but you only continued to focus on the screen in front of you. 
“i have to finish this.” you said.
shotaro tried to focus his bleary eyes on whatever work you were doing. nothing could be comprehended by his tired mind. he leaned forward acting like he understood what was on your computer until his face was beside yours.
“you know it’s scientifically proven that your mind won’t retain information past a certain time?” shotaro said.
you scoffed, moving your face closer to shotaro’s until your cheeks touched. you relaxed further as shotaro found a stubborn knot. you stayed in place, letting your head hang forward as shotaro pressed deeper into the knot.
“i need to get this done.” you said still with your head hanging low.
“you have all weekend.” shotaro said quietly.
he continued to work on massaging your back, actively feeling your inhibitions crumble as his fingers continued to do their work. he reached up further, wondering if you could feel the thin bands of his rings press into the bare skin of your neck.
“so tense.” shotaro chided. you sighed, taking your hands away from your keyboard to let them fall at your side. “let me give you a massage.”
shotaro knew he was being too presumptuous when you snapped your head to look at him. he tried to give you the most innocent smile he could muster. shotaro tried his best, but it was hard to feign innocence after hearing your tiny sighs of relief. shotaro felt himself wanting to help you relax the same way you always helped him.
“aren’t you tired?” your eyes were low and bleary as you looked at him. “i’ll be in bed soon.” you said.
shotaro shook his head slowly while he continued to massage your back.
“just for a little bit,” shotaro drove his fingers into your skin a little more, smiling to himself when your sighs of relief got a little louder. “i’ll set an alarm and everything so you can get back to work.” he reasoned.
you looked at the words on your screen, how they stopped making sense a long time ago. you still feel shotaro’s fingers continue their ministrations on your back. the bed behind you looks inviting, and so is the smile on shotaro’s face. 
you get up from your seat to look at shotaro. his smile is big, reaching up to his eyes before he goes in for a kiss. 
he’s gentle at first, thumb stroking your hand gently. when shotaro tries to deepen the kiss, you pull away.
“only thirty minutes,” you walk over to the bed and shotaro follows behind you closely. when you sit down on the edge shotaro stands in front of you. the smile on his face didn’t falter when you pointed your finger at him menacingly. “and no funny business.” you say.
“what do you mean?” he asks.
shotaro plays dumb, tilting his head while you tilt your head sideways and give him a hard stare. shotaro folds, putting his hands up in defeat as you lay down on the bed. 
you lay facedown on the bed, trying to urge your body to relax. you haven’t been this stressed in so long you forgot how to manage it. it wasn’t until shotaro’s hands moved your limbs to the perfect place you felt your body begin to loosen. when you felt him straddled your lower back you had to repeat the motion to get yourself to relax again.
shotaro started high, a little below the space he had been working at since he got home. every part of you felt rigid, brought on by the mental strain of work. shotaro sympathized with you silently—he knew what it was like to have an unbelievable workload that seemed unbearable at times. he also had the luxury to leave everything at work. you had no choice but to be reminded of your unfinished projects each time you looked up from the bed to stare at your computer. when shotaro saw your eyes stay on the screen of your computer he started to become brash. his hands that were over your shirt was suddenly underneath the fabric, running his hands so far down your sides his hand was wedged between your stomach and the mattress. you didn’t stop his hand, or remind him about no funny business. you only let out a content sigh and turned your head back to face the pillow.
“don’t think about work right now.” shotaro said.
his voice was gentle but stern. you gave in quickly, saying an ”okay” muffled by the pillow. you tried to sound even with your voice, but the end of your words had an airy lift. the near whimper in your voice went straight to shotaro’s pants. usually he was better at controlling himself, but the view of you under him going slack and the feeling of his crotch pressing against your ass made him lightheaded. it didn’t help that you had been on shotaro’s mind all day, or that he was able to bring you relief from your stress.
he tried to remain professional, he tried so hard. he tried to not partake in the funny business, but when he pushed your shirt all the way up to your neck you didn’t stop him. when shotaro got up from the bed to grab lotion you let out a pretty whine from loss of contact. when shotaro returned and let the cold lotion spurt on your back you only shivered and made the feeble attempt to reach back and undo your bra strap knowing shotaro would do it for you. 
excitement creeped over shotaro’s body, and he wondered if you could tell. he tried his best to not let the tent in his underwear poke you, but shotaro knew that you knew what drove him insane. 
he kept part of his promise though, working his way up your back rubbing out the tension until your skin was damp from the lotion.
“so tense.” shotaro says above you.
you only groan in response, letting one of your arms go limp over the side of the bed. it is so relaxing, you think that if shotaro keeps going you’ll fall asleep. 
if he listened to what you said, he would’ve just given you a massage until your alarm went off to let you go back to work. but your sighs of relief were so blissful to his ears and the skin of your back was so soft. your moisturized skin had started to glow from the light of your computer skin. shotaro couldn’t stop his mind from thinking about your body glistening in sweat and the toys you two kept in the bedside table called out to him like a devil on his shoulder.
“babe?” shotaro said, still looking at the drawer of his bedside table.
you were nearly asleep, only being able to hum lightly to let shotaro know you heard him. shotaro was silent for a moment, letting his hand drift all the way down your until he rested above your ass.
“can i go lower?” he asked.
you only hesitated a second before mumbling a yes. 
shotaro didn’t hesitate moving his legs further down your body, until he could comfortably lean his crotch against your ass. shotaro felt you perk up and preen your ass slightly backwards to really feel all of him. his hands kept you down, kneading your ass over your pajama pants. he wished you were wearing those thin shorts to bed, the ones that were too short to cover all of you. but he would settle for the thin material of your pants. 
he kept kneading the skin, until your body started working against his force to put your ass further in the air. both you and shotaro got quiet, driven by the feeling of your bodies touching. shotaro fully delved into the funny business he promised not to do and you were no better. 
your ass was grinding against his dick when the alarm on your phone went off. it was blaring and it was loud, overtaking the sounds of quiet pants and breaking through the fog in your brain. your monitor screen had timed out, leaving you and shotaro only in the light of your screensaver. 
shotaro quickly grabbed his phone from the bedside table, turning it off while cursing it in his mind. he purposely pressed his dick into you as he moved, dragging it back and forth slowly as he went back to his previous position behind you. if you wanted to get back to work he would not stop you. deadlines were deadlines, and shotaro would always be here. but that did not stop him from leaning forward, so close to you that his breath fanned against the shell of your ear.
“thirty more minutes?” he asked with a smile.
you laughed into the pillow. shotaro felt the bed shift as you pressed your ass flush against his hips. shotaro’s hand gripped your hips and travelled to your stomach, pressing against your skin to perfect your form.
“when has sex with you ever been thirty minutes?” you asked.
shotaro pulled back from your ear, using his other hand to open the drawer of the bedside table. he could see you snap your head to the drawer, laser-focused on his hand as shotaro shuffled his hand around. he knew exactly what he was looking for, but he wanted to see you squirm as he obnoxiously rummaged through, making the metal cuffs clang around. 
when shotaro finally pulled out the matching set of pink toys, he could feel you draw in your breath. he was having trouble breathing on his own, the anticipation that was building stacking exponentially. your body stiffened and shotaro could feel the energy in the room change as he purposely took his time dragging the tip of the dildo down your smooth back. you shivered again and shotaro gave you the space to perk your ass up in the air as you took off your shirt and bra the rest of the way. your face was still down and shotaro grabbed a handful of your clothed ass, reveling in your whine.
“this isn’t sex.” shotaro said.
he rested on his haunches and leaned down, so close until he could press his face into your bottom half. when you rubbed your ass against his cheek shotaro put both hands on your ass spreading them. he breathed in the scent of you, something he spent all day thinking about.
“just stress relief,” he reached behind him, putting the tip of the vibrating dildo over your clothed clit. “so you can get back to work, yeah?”
“yeah.” you said meekly.
shotaro laughed and cooed, pressing a gentle kiss to your ass before straightening his back. from his space above you he could see how you turned your head, one side pressing against the pillow. shotaro wished he could see your whole face, but he got what he needed seeing your eyebrows stitch together as he turned on the dildo. 
the initial vibration made you jolt. shotaro anticipated it, holding your body in place by a hand on your hip. your hands instantly fisted the sheets, letting out a weak whimper.
“so jumpy.” shotaro tsked. 
he pressed the button on the dildo before putting it to the side. he knew the instructions to the dildo better than you. when shotaro initially bought the toys, you were too embarrassed to even look at them. you brought the covers up to your eyes while shotaro diligently read the instructions, pressing the buttons over and over to figure out how to use it. you made him keep the toys on his side of the bed at first too, and almost always looked nervous when you had to reach in his drawer for something. 
but now you loved the toys almost as much as shotaro did. he would come home from work on occasion and find them missing, hidden on your side of the bed. those were always the best days. shotaro got to show you how to properly use your own toys, and he got to tease you relentlessly when your eyes would go wide after finding out a new function. he would tease you until you wer a crying mess, talking about how you don’t even know how to get yourself off properly with your own toys.
his favorite function on the vibrating pink dildo was it’s ability to warm up. it took a second, but when it was ready it would emulate the warmth of his own dick. shotaro was a modern man and he loved innovation. so while he waited for the pink dildo to warm up he brought the reliable vibrator. it had one setting, and barely worked but it always got the job done. 
shotaro slotted himself between your legs, forcing them further apart with his own. you let yourself become malleable underneath his touch, moving to the exact position he placed you in.
“just relax for me.” shotaro said.
he peered over your body to look at your face. when your hand quickly reached back he held it tightly, pressing it against your back. he only needed one hand now to turn on the vibrator, causing you to instantly fidget. you pushed your ass in whatever direction shotaro would pull the vibrator to. shotaro was fascinated seeing you chase stimulation so desperately. when he pulled it away you wiggled your ass, and when shotaro dragged it down your slit you pushed your hips backwards so desperately it made the vibrator prod your entrance. you were whimpering chasing the feeling, only pulling away when shotaro would place it on your clit.
“need you.” you whimpered pathetically into your pillow. 
shotaro hummed sympathetically, still dragging the vibrator along your bottom half. he felt himself straining in his underwear, so hard that the precum started seeping through the fabric. 
shotaro had the habit of taking out his stress on you in the bedroom. something about seeing you come undone at his hands eased the weight on his shoulders. for some twisted reason, seeing you cum from anything else but his dick helped ease his stress even more. deductive reasoning told shotaro it was probably about control, maybe projection, or maybe taking care of you first made shotaro feel like he was taking care of himself. there were multiple times that shotaro had finished without touching himself, only touching you. he had heard the horror stories from his friends about cumming too early, but once again shotaro was a modern man. he was ready to go again quickly, and was resourceful enough to keep you going long after he was done.
“i’m right here, baby.” shotaro cooed. 
he let go of your hand briefly to reach and touch your cheeks. it made your eyes open, and shotaro saw you try to look for him behind you. he moved his body to enter your lined of sight, still playfully prodding his vibrator at your entrance. when your features softened shotaro went back to pressing it into your clit. your high pitched whine went right to shotaro’s dick, bringing him forward to grind it on your ass. the precum that seeped through his underwear got on your pajama pants. shotaro looked up at the ceiling, going back to pressing your hand against your ass. he pressed the vibrator further into your clit, until you turned your head forward and your hand pressed against the headboard. 
shotaro watched your body rock against nothing, and he saw your thighs shake. he started gripping your ass again, pulling you back to press against his dick against your ass. shotaro got distracted, feeling you wiggle against his ass. he almost missed your whine talking about how close you were, and how your hand started pushing at the waistband of your pajama pants. shotaro used the last of his self control to bring your waistband down calmly. he couldn’t stop himself from sucking on the swell of your ass, biting with a force that caused you to jolt. 
with your pants halfway down your legs you became more sensitive. there was one less layer separating your body from the vibrations of the toy. you couldn’t hide behind the extra layer, turning your head to whine in the pillow when shotaro pressed into your clit. he could see the splotch over your underwear, and when he pressed his finger into your panties the fabric stuck to your folds. 
“i’m going to cum.” you whimpered.
shotaro went back to kissing your ass, alternating between sucks and love bites. he used his free hand to bunch your underwear, until the fabric pulled between your ass. he lifted slightly, applying just enough friction to your cunt. you were moaning now, failing to muffle your sounds in the pillow.
“let it out.” shotaro encouraged.
with your bunched panties in his hand he brought it back to your ass, only freeing his thumb from his fist. when shotaro lightly pressed his finger against your asshole your body tensed for a split second before melting underneath his touch. your first orgasm was never loud, only high-pitched whimpers and repeating his name over and over. you almost always relaxed after the first one, losing all force to keep yourself up causing you to slide on the soft sheets.
shotaro could’ve taken you from the back like this for the rest of the night. he resisted the urge to hold your body in this position with his strength while he spent the night relaxing every tense muscle in your body. part of him wanted to fuck you with the dildo then give you his dick until the back of your thighs were glossy from slick and you had to press your legs together pathetically to save yourself from overstimulation—but the way you kept puckering your lips and clutching at the bottom of his shirt made his tunnel vision disperse. so when shotaro guided your wobbly legs out of your pants he let you lay on your back. 
you pulled him down to you quickly, wrapping your legs around his waist and peppering kisses all along his face. shotaro smiled from the quick kisses, thinking about how you must’ve stored all your affection up the whole day. 
shotaro reached behind him in the middle of your kisses, bringing the dildo to rest beside your head. when your kisses ceased, shotaro brought you in for a big kiss, one that still connected your lips with a string of spit. shotaro broke the string with the dildo, letting it rest on your bottom lip while you looked up to him with blown out eyes. shotaro gave you a simple head nod and you poked your tongue out, laving the tip until it was glossy with your spit. shotaro licked a line down it himself, making you widen your eyes. 
he barely gave you time to register the lewd act before he brought the dildo down between your two bodies. he pressed the tip to your clit before dragging it down to collect your slick. you brought shotaro down closer to put your head in the crook of his neck as the wet sounds filled the room. shotaro liked playing with you this way, making you hear how wet you always get. he was almost able to imagine it being his own dick spreading your arousal around and teasing your entrance. your legs that were wrapped around his waist spread apart and you let your hips thrust upwards, desperate to have something inside of you.
shotaro pulled his body away from you until you were forced to look at him. he could see the bleary look in your eyes were wet now with tears threatening to break your water line. shotaro used his free hand to stroke the skin underneath your eye. he watched your big eyes stare at him desperately, flickering down quickly to his consoling smile.
“just relaxxxxx.” shotaro prolonged his words as he slid the warm dildo into your heat.
your mouth was agape taking it all. you almost immediately began squeezing around the toy, your walls still sensitive from your first orgasm. it slid in and out of your with ease, both you and shotaro’s foreheads pressed against eachother to watch the scene unfold together. you swallowed it up each time, and if you looked further past you could see shotaro’s dick twitching in his underwear. there was a wet patch, one that you would have to teasingly bring up later. 
you were pulled from your thoughts when you felt shotaro’s eyes look at you. with your foreheads still pressed together you maintained eye contact, biting on your bottom lip when shotaro turned the vibrator on to it’s lowest setting.
you started whimpering immediately and found yourself in the same position of desperately looking for things to hold onto. shotaro found your hand first, squeezing it tight and pressing it into the sheets next to your head.
“so wet and tight,” shotaro increased the speed of pumping the toy inside of you. “i can feel you sucking it back in.” he cooed.
you didn’t know how to respond. any words you could’ve formed turned into quick motions of your heads and whimpers. when shotaro increased the speed of the vibration your whimpers turned into moans and cries of his name.
“you pretending it’s me?” shotaro teased.
you looked down again while shotaro lifted one of your legs to rest on his shoulder. you shook your head, muttering something about how it’s not as good as the real thing. 
shotaro felt a pulse in his pants again as he pulled his body up, getting a full view of your entire body. he settled back on his legs to get a better angle and view. from here he could see your chest shudder as your breaths became more broken, and how your leg tensed from the pleasure. you were going through a full body experience, and shotaro got to witness it all. how could he be stressed about anything after seeing this? how could you be stressed after going through it? he was unrelenting and could stop himself from sighing in content. shotaro was coming towards his own climax, just from watching your squirms become more intense.
he wrapped a hand around your leg and pulled you closer. shotaro licked his hand and brought it to your chest. he rolled your sensitive nipples between his wet fingers, pinching harder until you brought your own hands to your chest. you placed your hand over his, guiding how you needed him to hold you. shotaro felt his mouth go agape slightly watching you touch yourself. he knew he told himself that he would be doing all the work, but something about both of you coming together to bring yourself pleasure drove him insane. shotaro had to let out a deep breath, he had to save whatever he had left for you. he turned up the speed and went faster, until your hand clutched onto his bicep. 
your eyes were fixed on shotaro as his expression got serious. he kept going, letting a glob of spit land on your cunt to add more lubrication. your nails dug into shotaro’s arm and he bit his lip.
“you close?” shotaro said, already knowing the answer.
“yeah.” you moaned.
shotaro smiled and continued the same speed.
“give it to me.” he said.
for a moment you were silent. it was only the sound of your computer fans whirring, the low sound of the vibrator, and the squelching that filled the room. it was you arching your back of the bed and shotaro egging you on, coaxing you to the edge. when you felt the tension snap again your whimpers came out in pants before a cry came from your throat. it got louder as shotaro didn’t stop, still thrusting the vibrator in and out of your heat. your nails didn’t let up in his bicep, gripping him so hard your body shook. your legs closed around shotaro’s hand, causing the leg on shotaro’s shoulder to pull him in. didn’t separate them, instead watching your body react with enchantment fueled by lust. 
shotaro didn’t stop until after your frantic head shakes turned weak, and your grip on his bicep went limp. shotaro pulled out the dildo quickly, letting it vibrate on your stomach before turning it off. your full body twitched from the situation, and continued to twitch as shotaro ran soothing hands across your body. he let you lay there limp as you caught your breath and gathered your composure.
“you okay?” he asked innocently.
shotaro asked the question like your twitching body wasn’t his fault. the smile on his face was small, pressing heart shaped kissing on your hot cheeks. your world was still spinning when your snoozed alarm went off again. thirty minutes slipped through your fingers, you weren’t sure if you could even get up anymore to make your way to the computer. your full body went slack, so loose you were almost limp. if it wasn’t for shotaro, you don’t think you could’ve turned the alarm off.
he set his phone back down on the bedside table, hovering over you as he continued to touch you gently. this time it was shotaro giving you a flurry of slow kisses, each one wetter than the last. shotaro helped you come back to earth quicker, silently letting your body gain it’s strength again. 
when you were ready, you propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him. you saw his full body, still in his undershirt and briefs. before you could reach for his waistband he spoke.
“i came.” shotaro said.
his confidence in the statement almost made you bashful. you only nodded, swallowing whatever spit you had in your mouth to try and wet your throat. 
you words inevitably came out hoarse and quiet, asking shotaro to cuddle with you. he got up from the bed quickly, taking the toys into the bathroom to be cleaned and coming back with a cold bottle of water. you downed it quickly, but not as fast as shotaro was coming back to bed. he didn’t bother to get changed and you didn’t bother to get dressed as you cuddled together above the sheets. 
you both knew it was useless getting dressed, you were going to go for another round when the snooze alarm sounded off again.
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adorethedistance · 23 days
Text
I Don’t Just Like You - Trevor Zegras x Hughes!Reader
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Hockey Masterlist
Warnings: swearing, tension/fighting, jealousy, Dixie lmao
Words: 2161
Summary: Tension builds with Trevor over his new partnership until the two of you confess your feelings.
A/n: Y'all I am so not doing well rn. I am processing a break up and questioning my social circle and im so lonely that I needed to write some angst to cope with it all. Hope yall like this one and maybe it'll get a smut part two depending on whether or not I can handle writing that rn lol. Enjoy!
Moose: call me ASAP
Me: sorry Luke. can’t rn
Moose: Awesome 😎
My hands quake with anxiety as I fiddle with the tarnished silver ring adorning my pointer finger. The moisture of my skin eases the movement of turning the ring around my finger. I hiss when the gemstone catches on the skin of my middle finger and immediately drop my hands. 
Currently, I’m staring down at the risky text I just sent Trevor. About an hour ago he had messaged me:
Trev: hey sorry can’t swing tn after all 
Trev: rain check?
My jaw tightens with contempt and I huff out a sigh as my bottom lip trembles. I feel pathetic for just how impacted I am by his every word. I angrily hit the digital keys of my phone’s keyboard as I type my reply.
Me: really? 
Me: again??
Trev: don’t be like that
I’m not the most confrontational person. On any given day some might say I’m the furthest thing from confrontational. To put it rather plainly, I just don’t like it. I hate the way I get anxiety butterflies in my stomach. I hate absorbing the emotions of the other person, especially when rejection is involved. I hate what projections I’m opening myself up to receiving from the other person. There are too many pitfalls and not enough landing pads. Which is why it’s so out of character for me to press him on this.
Me: like what Trev?
This is the third time in a row Trevor has cancelled plans on me. I don’t know if he’s aware of that. I don’t even know what he’s been up to lately. He’s refused to tell me what he’s been doing instead, which didn’t raise my suspicions by any means until mom sent me an article. She knows about how my crush on Trevor has had roots in our childhoods. 
Trev: you know what I’m talking about
After I stopped playing hockey with my brothers, I was still always around to notice Trevor’s presence in our home. When I moved to California for college, I wanted to chase my music dreams but I didn’t realize it would come at the expense of my support system. Being long distance with my family put me in a hard spot, but having a familiar face to rely on made the adjustment easier. As we spent more time together independent of my brothers, Trevor and I became close friends. The problem was my crush has been growing ever since we became friends, hence why mom sent me an article called, “Did Dixie D’Amelio admit to dating Trevor Zegras?”.
Me: at least say it with your chest
Sent. Delivered. I wait. Trevor’s response bubble appears for a second. It disappears, then reappears, then disappears again. I’m about ready to toss my phone across the room when his message delivers.
Trev: call me
I groan out in frustration and this time actually end up chucking my phone onto my bed. I run my hands through my hair, along the warm expanse of my scalp. A self-soothing gesture by all means. I pace to one side of my room before using the momentum of my steps to start back towards my phone. Just as I have it in my hand, Trevor’s contact picture covers the screen and illuminates in my grasp. I scoff out a sort of half groan and then answer.
“What, Trevor?”
“Hey, Y/n I’m great. Thanks for asking! How are you?” He responds sardonically to my cold greeting. I bite my tongue, torn between tearing into him and the stronger desire to laugh through my rage. He takes my exhale as a cue to continue. “What’s going on, Hughesy?”
In a single moment, my anger dissolves. The tenderness of that nickname, which was once reserved solely for my brothers, now belongs to me. In this moment, I find myself thinking about how grateful I am that Trevor was there for me as I transitioned into college. But the looming threat of a smile quickly vanishes as I remember how that care is nullified by Trevor’s abundantly active dating life.
“Y/nnnn?” Trevor hums into the phone.
“What?” I respond dryly.
“What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong is you cancelling on me for the third time in a row.”
“Is it really the third time in a row?” He asks under his breath, indicating he may not have intended to say it out loud at all. I roll my eyes, still actively fighting the urge to just lay into him.
“Yes, Trevor, it is!” I can practically hear him wince through the phone at the fact that I’m calling him Trevor instead of the default nickname permanently programmed into my phone. 
“Who’s that?” I hear softly over the phone. My heart flutters like a coal mine parakeet in a cage and I bite my lip, willing myself not to cry if it turns out Dixie is on the other side. Trevor whispers back,
“It’s Y/n.”
“Hey, Y/n!” Mason’s on the other end. 
“Not a good time,” Trevor tells him. Mason curses and then apologizes before retreating from Trevor’s general area. “Sorry, you were saying?” Trevor tells me at regular volume.
“You were cancelling on me again.”
“Oh. Right. I…” he switches the phone to the other ear, “I…don’t know what you want me to say.” Hello?! Could he be any more oblivious?!
“I want you to tell me what is going on!” I whine into the phone, “What is it you’re so busy with doing that you can’t see me for a week, huh? I get that you’re a professional athlete and you have a busy schedule. But I know your schedule and I know you still have a decent amount of free time. So what have you been doing?” Trevor breathes, in, then out and says,
“I’ve been seeing someone lately…” I feel my heart shatter into the tiniest fractals of what it once was and I cover my mouth to choke back the growing lump in my throat.
“I can’t do this right now,” I say with the utmost hurt lacing my voice, pulling the phone away from my ear to abruptly hang up on Trevor. I toss my phone on my bed once more, ignoring how the screen lights up with Trevor’s contact picture. It’s a new breed of psychological torture to sit here and ignore the calls, so I leave my phone in my bedroom as I go to splash cold water on my face. 
When I reenter my bedroom, I ignore the buzzing device to put on a comfortable pair of pajamas. He’s called once, twice, a fourth, and a fifth before finally giving up. Despite my phone being silent, I don’t trust it enough to take it with me and leave it to charge on my bed. I settle on the couch to open my new pint of Ben and Jerry’s, putting on my favorite show in the hopes of laughing through the pain. 
Somewhere between first and second episode, I had dozed off after returning the ice cream to the freezer. I’m not sure what it is about crying that knocks me on my ass like that, all I know is that it works. 
I’m abruptly pulled from my sleep when I hear the harsh banging on my front door. I jump up from the couch, the spike in adrenaline carrying me out of my sleepy haze. When I get to the front door, some of the tiredness catches up with me again and I groggily open the front door. Behind it stands Trevor, with sad puppy eyes and a sheepish expression. I can’t help the scowl that comes to rest on my face when I see him, but he doesn’t falter. Instead, he pushes past me to come into the apartment and sits on the couch expectantly. Since there’s no way to physically remove him from my space, I bargain, sitting down on the opposite end of the couch, as far from Trevor as I can manage. He doesn’t let the cold gesture phase him, and scooches obliviously into the center of the couch.
“What’s going on Hughsey?” I scoff at the nickname and Trevor cringes in frustration. “What is this?”
“I don’t know what you’re referring to.”
“Why are you icing me out all of a sudden?”
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” I ask, spiteful, with malice. 
“Clearly not since I’m here spending time with you.”
“Was that so hard for you to do? I mean, with your busy schedule and all?”
“What are you-” Trevor pauses for a split second. “Wait, are you… jealous? Y/n?”
I want to protest. I want to scream and rant and bite back, how he could be so conceited to think I’d be jealous of a relationship that I previously thought was rumored? But I can’t. 
Because he’s right.
I bite my tongue. There’s nothing else I can do. Not unless I want to make an even bigger fool of myself than I already have.
“Oh my god, that’s totally it. You’re jealous.” Trevor says, complete with a laugh and a sigh. The shame of actually being jealous of a girl I’ve never met, the disappointment of finding out Trevor is dating someone, and the exhaustion from already having cried earlier comes collapsing down on me at once. Hot tears well on the lining of my lashes and I stare at the ground, afraid to draw attention to myself. Upon seeing me cry, Trevor’s smile immediately vanishes and he scoots closer once more.
“Hey, shhh, it’s okay.” He envelops me in a hug that I’m too overwhelmed to reciprocate. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry.” 
I merely shake my head, unaware of what I could even say in this moment.
“I was… I was just laughing ‘cause I should’ve known.”
“Should’ve known what?”
“That you’d be jealous.” I wriggle out of the hug and look at Trevor sincerely.
“How would you have known?”
“You know, for as long as I can remember, your brothers have talked about you having a crush on me.” I cower in humiliation, my face glowing hotter than the surface of the sun.
“I wish they wouldn’t have.”
“No?” Trevor asks, genuinely.
“It’s embarrassing,” I confess, fully recoiling from the physical contact he had initiated before. 
“It’s cute.” Trevor earnestly admits as he takes my hand in his. I scoff instinctively but don’t pull my hand away again.
“I don’t need your pity, Trev.” I say so softly he nearly misses the sentiment. Once he processes my worlds, I feel him physically relax next to me at the sound of his familiar nickname.
“Well, what do you need? I’m here now.”
“I honestly don’t know.” I finally dare to meet his eyes. He’s looking at me so sweetly, earnestly. As if I hadn’t just chewed him out two minutes earlier. Then, I look away before I can say what I’m about to say next. “I don’t just like you.” Trevor’s face lifts ever so slightly. The extent of which, one might miss had they not known him a lifetime the way I have.
 “You know… the only reason I started seeing her was to get over you.”
“What?” I ask, sharply whipping my head to stare at Trevor, as if awaiting the reveal that this was just some elaborate prank from the start.
“Yeah. I started dating Dixie because I thought dating someone different would distract me. You know, it’s not a good look to have a crush on your best friend’s little sister.”
My heartrate picks up with his confession. This feels too good to be true. As if real life is waiting for us right outside the front door. The real life that doesn’t see me and Trevor together ever in our lifetimes. Terrified of the change that would occur from letting him walk away, I reach up and hold his face in my hands, kissing him passionately. Trevor wraps his hand around my wrist and kisses me back with twice as much fervor. 
We break apart, out of breath and full of smiles. Trevor looks at me for guidance and we fizzle into a nervous laughter. I reach up and brush my thumb tenderly across his cheekbone. He grabs my hand and turns his head, placing a sweet kiss on my palm. I then reach up and break the moment by ruffling my hand through his hair to mess it up.
“Hey!” He yells, grabbing waist to dig his hands into my sides. I screech with laughter as I try to escape. Trevor eventually yields and slips his hands from my sides to interlace with one another and pull me closer. I scoot in to sit against him, sitting half on top of him as our breathing falls in sync.
“I don’t just like you, too, Hughesy.” I smile.
“...You should probably call Dixie.”
“Oh shit.”
***
A/N: not my best work but not my worst either!
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nataliesfirefly · 2 months
Text
You and I Walk a Fragile Line - Farleigh Start x F!Reader - Part 4
a/n: hey everyone! i know it's been a while but the next part is finally here! not sure how many parts i want this to be bc i dont want to fill up the tag, still waiting to make an ao3 account haha- but anyways im getting a taglist started just of people who have shown interest in this series, if i put you on it and you don't want to be on it just let me know. and ofc if u want to be on it lmk! i also made a playlist if anyone wants to check that out :))
playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/60Kll9HCoQru14J18bT21C
series masterlist
word count: 3.9k
warnings: language, suggestive stuff?, alcohol, smoking, emetophobia
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Things are extremely awkward with Felix. He’s too nice to kick you out of Saltburn, yet he’s too prideful to apologize, so you two are stuck dancing around each other with small talk and short interactions.
Things with Farleigh, on the other hand, are surprisingly good. You never would have expected how close you two became in the past few days. In fact, you can’t remember the last time he insulted you, at least not in a playful way. You must have bonded over your shared dislike for Felix at the moment.
But for some reason, you worry if you get too close, he might push you away.
Tonight was dinner with all of Sir James’s friends, and as the Cattons tend to call them, the Henry’s. The actual dinner was full of awkward conversations with people much older than you about the future of your life and what you were going to do after graduating college. You actually had no idea what your plan was or what you wanted to do with your life. You used to push all the questions away and blamed it on the fact that graduation was pretty far away. It only recently dawned on you that you would be graduating in about two years. 
After dinner, you sit in the dimly lit living room with Farleigh on the couch as everyone else participates in karaoke. You and Farleigh snicker at some of the guests’ performances, whispering things to each other as if you are judges of some competition.
Eventually, Farleigh sighs and stands to his feet. “I’m going to go smoke,” He tells you, putting his hands in his pockets. He turns and looks at you expectantly. You take it as his way of asking you to come with him, so you stand up and snatch the bottle of wine you were drinking off the coffee table.
You follow him up the stairs, down the long, dark hall and eventually into his bedroom. He shuts the door behind you and draws out the pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lights one. “At least open the window,” You walk over to the window and open it to let the smoke out.
“Oh, right. Cause you hate the smell so much.” He rolls his eyes at you as he exhales some smoke. “Weren’t you the one that asked me for one of these the other day?” He points the cigarette at you and you glance down shamefully.
“Yeah. I wasn’t at my best, okay?” You shake your head and slump down to the floor, leaning against the wall and stretching your legs out.
“Okay, sure, miss goody two shoes.” He chuckles and sits down next to you. You take a swig from the wine bottle and sigh, leaning your head back.
“So, Felix…” Farleigh trails off and looks over to you. You continue staring up at the ceiling. “Can we not talk about Felix right now,” You reply, closing your eyes. “We need to,” He says, nudging you.
“What is there to talk about?” You ask, turning to meet Farleigh’s gaze. He presses the cigarette to his lips and inhales. “You said it yourself, that he only hangs out with me out of pity.” 
As he breathes out, the smoke passes over your face but you don’t care. “And what’s your problem with him? It seems like you’ve been waiting for someone to turn on him so you could join in,” You continue, and his eyes tell you that you’ve just read him like a book.
He quickly recovers and remains expressionless. “You’re projecting,” Farleigh responds. “Then why have you been so nice to me?” You ask.
The room goes silent and you are stuck in a moment where time doesn’t pass, it’s just you and Farleigh. His usual cold and dark gaze is replaced by something softer, warmer. Something in the air shifts and you can feel some kind of tension rising.
But then he looks away, breaking eye contact. “Because Felix is just stupid sometimes,” He finally replies, nodding toward the bottle of wine you are holding. You hand it to him and your fingers brush against his.
He takes a drink. “I don’t think he ever had bad intentions. He’s just an idiot,” You consider this. Maybe he’s just extremely out of touch with reality like the rest of the Cattons.
There’s a pause as you think of something to change the subject to.
“So… How about that Sadie girl?” You ask, turning to him with a grin. He gives the wine back to you and you take a quick swig.
Elspeth is, for some reason, attempting to set Farleigh up with a daughter of one of James’s friends. Her name is Sadie, and she is very pretentious and fake, from what you can tell. You hadn’t spoken to her, but you watched from afar as she and Farleigh engaged in a conversation.
“She’s alright,” He shrugs and stands up to press the cigarette out on his ashtray. He sits back down next to you and sighs.
“She was like, hardcore flirting with you,” You chuckle and observe his exasperated expression. “Oh, I know.” He smirks smugly and you roll your eyes.
“That’s weird, usually you hook up with someone the moment they show interest in you,” You smile at the way he frowns slightly. “That’s not true,” He furrows his eyebrows and glances at you. “Okayyy,” You say sarcastically.
A while later, you are still upstairs with Farleigh, but you are now feeling the effects of all the alcohol you’ve consumed. You both had gone downstairs to steal more booze, and you ended up drinking almost all of it. Your whole body feels tingly and warm, and your brain is fuzzy.
You run a hand through your tousled hair and sigh, turning to check if Farleigh is as wasted as you. He seems slightly better off than you, but his dark eyes are half lidded and glossy.
“Do you ever miss Sasha?” He glances at you, seeming surprised at your random question. Sasha is Farleigh’s ex from Oxford, who he had endured a tumultuous and rollercoaster ride of a relationship with. You had met her once or twice, she seemed kind, but slightly possessive.
“Sasha?” Farleigh repeats her name and takes a moment to process it. It seems like memories are returning to him and replaying in his head.
“Sometimes. But not really. She was crazy,” He raised his eyebrows and stared straight ahead. “You guys broke up and got back together, like, ten times,” You giggle foolishly and he turns to look at you, slightly offended by your amusement.
“It was too hard to keep up with,” You sigh after your laughter subsides. 
“I didn’t know you were keeping up,” You make eye contact once again with Farleigh, and this time his gaze is more intense. You can’t tell if it’s one of his usual sarcastic comments or if there was an underlying meaning behind his tone. Your face burns red with the realization that you had been studying his relationship so closely. But, really, everyone in your friend group knew about Sasha and Farleigh’s dumpsterfire of a romance. Break up, random hook ups, they said they love each other, then they argued again.
“It’s just.. what friends do,” You reply, your speech slurred. “Friends keep up with each other’s relationships.” You shrug and wave your hand as if to dismiss the seriousness of it.
“You consider me a friend?” Farleigh chuckles, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Well, what if I do?” Your voice comes out softer than you intended. 
There’s another long moment of silence and prolonged eye contact between you two. The tension is so thick, you can feel it in the air and your heart pounds. It’s almost like you are waiting for who will make the next move. Your brain is all muddled and you can’t seem to think clearly.
Your eyes flicker down to his plush lips and you can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or not, but your instinct is to kiss him. You grab him by the face, a hand on either cheek, and pull him in, smashing your lips together sloppily. You pull away, shocked at yourself, dropping your hands into your lap as your lips hover over his.
You expect him to be disgusted and stand up and walk away, but there’s a slight pause before he is grabbing you and pulling you back in, kissing you almost aggressively. Like he’s been starved, like there’s not enough of you.
You squeak with surprise before you melt into him, softening as one of his hands travels down to your neck and the other settles on your waist. You both have to gasp for air in between sloppy kisses, but you don’t mind. Your heart races and your hands travel up into his hair, running your hands through his unruly dark curls. You find that you’ve been waiting so long to do that, to feel his hair in your hands.
He bites your lower lip and your eyebrows pinch together. “Sorry,” He mumbles, although his voice disappears into your mouth. You feel yourself losing balance and beginning to fall back onto the floor.
Before you know it, he’s on top of you, refusing to stop kissing you. It’s messy and you know you’re both drunk, but damn does it feel good. The tension feels like it’s being lifted off of you, and it’s relieving. You don’t know how long it will last but hell, you’re enjoying it. Both of his hands have moved to your hips and his fingers are pressing into you.
You feel his lips move from yours, moving down from your jaw to your neck. He’s kissing and sucking on your skin so passionately that you know you will have bruises tomorrow. You moan quietly and you hear him groan in response, his low voice vibrating against your neck.
You attempt to catch your breath as you suddenly feel something in your stomach, something unpleasant. Saliva begins to build in your mouth and it’s like you have an internal clock telling you how much time you have left before you absolutely hurl.
“Far-Farleigh,” You place your hands on his shoulders. You whimper and slightly push up on him. He glances up from your neck, staring up at you in confusion. You can’t deny that you enjoy viewing him from this angle, but you have other concerns at the moment.
“Gonna throw up,” You manage to get out before he’s rolling off of you, allowing you to get up. You clamber to your feet and scramble into the connecting bathroom, barely making it to your knees in front of the toilet before you throw up. 
You grip both sides of the toilet for support as you practically spill your guts, coughing loudly. You would have liked some help or something from Farleigh, but it seems like he has just left you here to deal with it yourself.
You groan and wipe your mouth, sitting up and staring straight ahead in some sort of daze. You eventually come to your senses and stand up, flushing the toilet. You feel dizzy so you grab onto the counter of the sink to not lose balance, catching your reflection in the mirror.
Your hair is very messy, and your mascara is slightly smudged around your eyes. Your cheeks are warm and rosy, but in an unflattering way. You look like a wreck. 
When you walk back into his room, he’s gone. You sigh in frustration and press a hand to your aching and pounding forehead. Somehow, you stumble back to your room and flop onto your bed. You managed to avoid the small number of guests left in the house, along with Venetia and Felix. You just want to get some sleep after the shitshow that just happened. And you know you’ll be paying for it in the morning. 
2 YEARS EARLIER
You, Felix, and some of your other friends were gathered at the pub on a Friday night. There was chatter and the smell of cigarette smoke all around you. Felix returned from the bar and handed you a tall glass of beer.
You were focused on Farleigh and the girl who sat on his lap. Her hands were all over him, and he seemed totally enamored with her. She had a short skirt on and her wrists were covered in bracelets. She was pretty, you had to admit.
“Who’s that?” You asked, glancing up at Felix and pointing to the two. “Oh, that’s Sasha.” He replied. “She’s obsessed with Farleigh. And from what I can tell,” Felix sat down, pulling his chair closer to yours, “He’s liking it.”
You chuckled and took a sip of your beer. “Good for him,” You said, shrugging. “Bet they’ve already fucked,” Felix remarked and you snapped your head towards him. “Ew, Felix. That’s none of your business.” You made a disgusted expression.
“What? Everybody shags around here, it’s no surprise,” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Except you,” He added, grinning and nudging you. You rolled your eyes and looked back towards Sasha and Farleigh.
You didn’t want to imagine them… doing that. But for some reason, your mind kept trying to paint a picture of it. You shook your head to clear your thoughts. 
You didn’t know why, but for some reason, you felt jealousy bubbling up inside of you. Why was it so easy for her to get what she wanted? You had liked a few men at Oxford, but you didn’t really even want a boyfriend or a commitment like that.
But as you watched Farleigh and Sasha’s hands intertwine, you felt envious.
“Hey, Felix, who was that guy you were going to introduce me to?” You asked, tapping your fingers against the table. “What? Oh, Joshua? I thought you said you didn’t want to meet him,” He replied. Felix was trying to set you up with one of his friends who seemed like a player. At this point, you didn’t care. It was like you were trying to prove that you could actually get a guy. Prove to who, though?
“I know. I changed my mind,” You said decidedly. “Well, he’s actually here tonight. Would you like me to go grab him?” Felix stood up and pointed towards the other side of the pub. You nodded. “Sure,”
You waited patiently and took a few swigs of beer for confidence. A minute later, Felix returned with a man who was a few inches shorter than him, with fluffy blonde hair and hazel eyes. Freckles were dusted across his nose and his skin was nicely tanned due to the warmer weather of spring. He looked sweet and innocent, but the rumors you had heard about him told you otherwise.
“Hello,” He greeted you, holding out his hand. You stood up to shake his hand, smiling as you introduced yourself. “Nice to meet you, I’m Joshua.” He grinned brightly and Felix seemed amused by the interaction.
“Hi, Joshua.” You tried to make a good first impression, although you weren’t good at this stuff. But it seemed like he was already interested, looking you up and down.
You both sat back down and began small talk about classes and life and friends. Felix left you two alone, but you’re not sure where he went. It was good, talking to someone new, but still a bit uncomfortable since you were so introverted. The conversation flowed nicely between the both of you.
You couldn’t help but feel like someone was watching you. You glanced up, seeing Farleigh’s cold gaze drilling into yours, flicking back and forth between you and Joshua. It was like he was waiting to see who would break eye contact first, and of course, it was you. Your gaze faltered down to the table and then back up to Joshua.
“You alright, love?” He asked, placing a hand on your thigh. You nodded and your face turned a shade of pink with embarrassment. “Sorry. Just thinking,”
“Hey, what do you say when we go back to my dorm? To just chill, relax, you know.” He tilted his head and you could already tell what he was implying. “Uh- Sure, yeah. Let’s go,” You smiled and stood up, grabbing your bag and walking past him toward the doors. He placed a hand on your lower back as you stepped by him.
You woke up the next morning unsure of where you were before memories of the night before came back to you. You were in Joshua’s bed, tangled up in the sheets, with your clothes off and scattered on the floor.
Your eyes widened as you realized you had lost your virginity to Joshua Brown. You sat up and scratched your head, not sure what to do next.
“Oh my God…” You whispered, looking down at Joshua, who was sleeping on his stomach, his face pressed against the pillow. It didn’t look like he was waking up anytime soon.
You stood up and winced as you realized you were a bit sore. You tried to be as quiet as possible as you picked your clothes up off the floor, hurriedly putting them back on.
Joshua stirred in his sleep and groaned, rolling over. You grimaced as you took your bag off of his desk chair, tip toeing to the door and opening it slowly.
You sighed with relief once you had closed his door behind you and you were safely out in the hallway. You know you probably looked like a wreck, but your main goal at the moment was to get back to your own dorm going unnoticed.
You heard your name being called, fairly close to you. You froze before turning to identify where it came from, and you swear your heart dropped to your ass. Farleigh was standing in the doorway of his room, which was conveniently right next door to Joshua’s, smirking at your frazzled state.
“You should work on keeping it down. I couldn’t sleep last night because I kept hearing you and Joshua.” He chuckled and you could feel your face heating up.
“Sorry,” You muttered, casting your glance downwards to the floor. 
“You finally got some after all,” He teased. “Can you shut up?” You groaned, facepalming and shaking your head. “Oh, I will if you can figure out how to,” He raised his eyebrows. “Was it really that good?” He questioned.
You considered the question. You didn’t really know if it was or not, you were just trying to be loud because you thought guys liked that. Were you satisfied by the end? No. But Joshua certainly was.
He seemed to notice your puzzled expression and he nodded. “Oh. So the rumors are true about him.” You tilted your head with curiosity. “What rumors?” You asked.
“Oh, you poor thing.” He cooed sarcastically. You narrowed your eyes at him and crossed your arms. “Well, you’d better get back to your place so you can study,” Farleigh mocked. “Make up for that time you lost last night, huh?”
“Can you just not tell anyone? Please?” You knew it was useless asking him not to tell. He had the biggest mouth in the whole class. He just snickered at your pleading and stepped back into his room and shut his door.
That night you hung out with Joshua in his dorm once more, but you told him you didn’t want to have sex again. He respected your decision, so you were just drinking some alcohol with him and making out occasionally.
“Yeah, I don’t really know what I’m going to do with an English degree. I just had to pick something.” He shrugged. You were talking about your futures after Oxford and what you were both majoring in.
“Hm. Well, there’s a lot you could do,” You replied, trying to reassure him, although you weren’t too sure yourself. “You could be-” Your sentence is cut short by a loud moan coming from the room next to you.
“Ah, shit. It’s Farleigh and Sasha again,” Joshua shook his head like it was a regular occurence. “They’re usually at it for a while,” He informed you. “Do you want to go somewhere else?”
Some odd, depraved part of you wanted to stay and listen. “No, that’s alright.” You shrugged. “Surely it can’t be that bad.”
The walls seemed paper thin. You swear you could hear every little noise, like the bed springs squeaking and the wanton sounds that came from Sasha. But then you heard something different. It was Farleigh, whimpering and moaning in a way that you couldn’t even believe what you were hearing. You didn’t know men could make sounds other than grunting during sex, let alone sounds like that.
“Oh fuck,” You heard him breathe heavily and Sasha was practically screaming at this point. 
“Damn. They’re really getting into it,” You whistled and raised your eyebrows. Joshua nodded. “I wish I was as good as people say he is,” Joshua looked down. “What?” You asked as you tried to ignore the continuous noises. He was really telling you to be quieter earlier today?
“Farleigh. People say he’s really good in bed,” Joshua explained. You were surprised that he was okay with discussing this with you. “Oh.” You chuckled nervously. You didn’t expect that, but for some reason it made sense. “Was I bad?” Joshua asked suddenly.
You froze at his question and wondered if you should tell him the truth. “I mean… I don’t really… know the difference, you know? It was my first time, remember?” You told him. He nodded but you could tell he seemed hurt and defeated.
“Right,” He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck and you leaned back in your chair. You could say this was one of the most embarrassing moments of your life, having to listen to Farleigh fuck some girl while having an awkward conversation with the man you had a one night stand with.
The next day around noon, you were walking to a café near campus when you saw Farleigh walking ahead of you on the sidewalk of the cobblestone streets.
An idea popped into your head and you smiled mischievously, jogging to catch up with him. When you appeared at his side, he glanced down and made a face.
“Are you following me?” He asked, glaring at you as you fell into step next to him. “No. I just had a complaint,” You tried to hide the smile threatening your face. “What’s that?” He quirked an eyebrow.
“Me and Joshua were trying to have a nice conversation last night,” You started, and his playful expression immediately dropped. “Maybe try to keep it down next time, right?” You grinned and he stopped in his tracks.
“You were there last night?” He seemed annoyed and a little bit shocked. “Yeah.” You nodded and stopped next to him. “I mean, I couldn’t even hear my own thoughts,” You laughed to yourself and he narrowed his dark eyes at you.
“And it wasn’t even Sasha as much as it was you–” “Keep your mouth shut,” He ordered, and you knew you got a rise out of him. “Practice what you preach, that’s all I’m saying,” You waved and skipped along the sidewalk, leaving him standing there in shock.
taglist: @isla-finke-blog @ibimbogrl @drunkmysticsquirrel @alonia-olivia @novemilady @saltburnsworld
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miguel-ohara-lover · 8 months
Note
Miguel ohara x spiderwoman/single mom reader, where she brings her baby to work at the spider society
Ooooh yes yes yes. I thrive on dad!Miguel so this is amazing.
Miguel x Spider-Woman W/ a Baby
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CW: Fluff, dad!Miguel, reader has a baby, Mig is a little tough at first but don’t worry… slight angst cuz of Gabi
I had to ask my mom some stuff cuz… I don’t know shit about babies… also I might have projected a little towards the end don’t mind me…
Part two
It’s not uncommon for spider-people to bring their children to the spider society. Hell, that’s what the day passes are for. Peter B started the trend with Mayday, and after that many spiders wanted to bring their little ones too.
Today you were no different, deciding to bring your baby girl, Alice, to the society. You knew of all places in the multiverse she’d be the safest here. A few folks were surprised to see you with the baby, some cooing and saying she’s adorable, but most kept to themselves.
You headed to the boss’s office, grabbing a coffee from the cafeteria along the way. You needed to make sure you weren’t assigned any missions today. As you walked in, Miguel turned to you to see what you needed, a familiar frown settling on his face when he saw your baby.
He had never liked all the spider people bringing their children. I mean, who would after what he’s been through. Peter seemed to love torturing him with Mayday constantly, but Miguel would never admit it hurt. You noticed the look and chose to keep some distance.
After a few seconds you spoke. “Hey, Miguel, I was just popping in to ask if I have any missions today?”
“Actually…” He turns to one of his screens. “You just got one. In an hour.”
“What? I can’t do a mission today, I have my daughter with me.”
“That’s not my problem.” Miguel doesn’t turn to look at you again. You huff and look around the room while debating what you should do, Alice cooing a little and looking around the unfamiliar room as well.
“Maybe… you could watch her?”
Miguel groaned a little. “Me? Why me?”
“Well I trust you’d keep her safe, boss. And she seems to like you.” You gesture to Alice making the cutest grabby hands at the big scary man. That makes Miguel’s hard outer shell crumble a little, images of his daughter flashing in his mind.
“Hm… how long…?”
“However long the mission is.” You smiled.
Miguel sighed. “Fine… fine… leave her with me…” He lowered his platform more and got down, holding his arms out to take the baby. You carefully handed off the baby to him, and he holds her expertly. He knew what he was doing.
You smiled up at him, a slight blush on your cheeks. “Thank you so much, Miguel.” Alice giggled and cooed at Miguel, waving her little hands at him. All he did was nod to you as a response, his eyes on the baby. You give her a gentle kiss to the forehead before heading off to get ready for your mission.
———
After the mission
———
You returned from your surprisingly easy mission, heading straight for Miguel’s office to retrieve your baby. When you walk in you see Miguel on his platform, holding Alice against his shoulder. He’s gently bouncing her and singing in Spanish, lulling her to sleep. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight.
Miguel notices you and placed a finger to his lips, telling you to stay quiet. Once the baby was asleep he spoke in a very quiet whisper.
“You we’re gone longer than I thought you’d be, y/n. Run into any trouble?”
You shook your head no. “The mission was pretty easy, surprisingly.”
“That’s good. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to Alice’s mami.” His eyes were still on your baby, hand on her back as he continued to gently rock and bounce her as she slept so peacefully.
You look up at Miguel. “You make a lovely dad.” He froze for a moment and looked at you.
“Really…?” Is all he said. Your smile grew and you nodded. The corners of his mouth slowly turned up, and for the first time since you’ve known him, Miguel smiled. A real genuine smile.
You swing up to his platform and place a gentle hand on his free shoulder. He glanced at your hand, a little confused by the gesture. There’s a slight blush on his cheeks, and you could tell you finally cracked through those walls he had put up.
“I’m sure her father wouldn’t enjoy this.” He tried to pull away from you, tried to put his walls back up.
You shook your head again. “Her father isn’t in the picture…”
“Really? What kind of father would abandon his daughter?” His red eyes almost seem to glow as anger fills him. He couldn’t imagine a dad causing harm, mentally or otherwise, to his own child. The thought made him sick, made him want to hunt down your ex and-
“Hey.” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “Don’t worry about it. She’ll have you…” You gave him a gentle smile. Miguel was surprised at that, but it made him happy. He loved the idea of being in Alice’s life more, of being a father figure to her.
“Would you… perhaps like to get dinner later?” Miguel looked into your eyes, and you could see the anger dissipating, being replaced with love.
“I’d love that.” You lean up and give him a gentle kiss on the cheek.
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snickerduu · 3 months
Note
how did you make your own website? & how long did it take you to make it? i am interested in web dev,,, do you have any tips or any helpful sites for beginners/ intermediate? (sorry for asking so many questions!)
hey no problem, asking is a great way to learn always!!
i started on my portfolio site i think around september 2022, forgot about it because of work, then went back to it and deployed it around march 2023! i learned a lot at work, so i just applied what i learned from working in web dev to my own personal site
regarding how to start, if you're a complete beginner, i'd suggest playing around with HTML/CSS first since it's kind of the basic building blocks for doing frontend stuff -- for the first few projects you could try copying simple sites like Google's home page :) there are little interactive tutorials you can find online too like flexbox froggy that can help teach diff concepts in a fun way!
after feeling comfortable with it, i'd suggest playing around with ReactJS when starting out with web dev; it's easy to get into because of its extensive documentation and its large community! there are step-by-step guides into setting it up and several tutorials (both video/article)
if you decide to get into actually deploying your stuff and connecting it to APIs, you can start looking into other frameworks like NextJS/GatsbyJS etc.
getting yourself into a web dev project, like maybe making a small notes/checklist web app or your own portfolio site is a fun way to experiment!! the hardest part is always finding the motivation to start them imo :) wishing u the best on ur web dev journey!!!!! 💗
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dyns33 · 9 months
Text
The Scar
Another Miguel O Hara x female reader, with suspense !
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Miguel had been acting weird for several weeks.
Ever since he had returned early from his seminar. In the middle of the night, he'd slipped into bed and kissed her like he hadn't seen her in forever.
It didn't bother Y/N. It had been a while since Miguel really touched her, according to him too tired from his work.
He had apologized that night, saying that he missed her, that he had asked to change his hours to spend more time with her, before repeating again and again that he loved her.
It was adorable, but it was also a bit weird.
There was something different about him, and Y/N couldn't figure out what.
The idea that he was cheating on her came quickly. Miguel was acting like a man who clearly had something to be ashamed of. Something bad.
Of course, all women would have been delighted to have their husbands look at them as he looked at her now. That their husbands come home early to cook dinner, give them a massage, listen to how their day went, kiss them passionately while whispering words of love in Spanish.
But it was really not in Miguel's habits.
Even at the start of their relationship, he had never really been romantic. Y/N remembered him telling her that it made sense for them to be together when they graduated, since they were both brilliant.
She liked to believe that he had loved her, at one point, then the routine had set in, and they had stayed together because it was easier.
All these gifts and kisses, it was really not normal.
It didn't take Y/N long to suspect that Miguel was having an affair with his colleague, Doctor Daniels. They had worked on a lot of projects, he talked about her often, and they went on business trips together.
She was beautiful, young and intelligent. Y/N didn't stand a chance against her.
Despite his promise to be here more often, there were always late nights when he came home. She imagined quickly that he was not always in the office, which she checked very quickly.
One evening, she woke up while he was getting dressed. He seemed embarrassed to see her in the hallway.
"Mi amor. Did I wake you up ? Forgive me, there was a problem in the office, a toxin leak, I have to go."
He kissed her so tenderly that Y/N wanted to cry watching him close the door.
A phone call to Alchemax was enough to know that there was no problem, and that nobody had called Miguel. Quickly checking, many of the dates and times were inconsistent with his schedule.
After pain and sorrow came anger. Knowing her husband well, Y/N knew there was no reason to stay and try to talk to him. So she took her things and went to stay in a hotel for the night.
She still wasn't asleep when someone knocked the next morning, and it was a surprise to see Miguel. Not only did he have no way of knowing where she was, she hadn't even thought he would be looking for her.
Visibly distraught, he took her in his arms as soon as she opened the door.
"Y/N ! Are you okay ? I came home and you were gone ! I was so scared, I thought… Why are you here ? Was there a problem Someone came to the house ? You…"
"There was no toxin leak."
"… What ?"
"There was no toxin leak in your office. Miguel, I know you're lying to me. I know you… I know you're cheating on me."
"What ?" he repeated again, looking as much annoyed as hurt. "No. Never ! I would never cheat on you, I love you ! I only love you."
"Please… I'm not stupid. You tell me you're going to work, and your office tells me you're not there. So where are you, uh ? What are you doing ? It's Why you've been so nice lately, so I don't get suspicious ? Because you're remorseful ? Because you're…"
"I'm Spiderman."
Y/N had heard of Spiderman, like everyone in Nueva York. A hero who could walk on the ceiling, and who fought crime.
Her first reaction was to laugh, then Miguel squirted a web from his handle that stuck a lamp to the wall and she agreed to listen.
He promised her that he had never cheated on her. He loved her more than anything, he would die for her, and he would never hurt her. The nights he was out and not working, he was saving lives. He hadn't told her, because he didn't want to worry her, or for her to take him for a monster.
"Okay, it's a bit special that you can pull stuff out of your arms and swing from building to building, but it's nothing monstrous."
"Actually… My DNA was altered on multiple levels, resulting in multiple physical changes."
"Is that why you look taller and more muscular ?"
"No. Yes ! I mean, a bit, but I'm not talking about that. It's… My teeth. My eyes, my hands, my legs…"
"I don't see anything weird with your eyes or your hands."
Since the beginning of their conversation, Miguel seemed really uncomfortable, but this moment was really the most complicated for him. His eyes were filled with fear as they turned red, he showed Y/N his sharp canines, and his fingernails turned into claws.
"…Wow. You look like a big cat."
"Amor, I don't look like a big cat." mumbled Miguel, blushing, lunging at her to tickle her when she tried to scratch his ear.
It could have ended there. Y/N would give everything for things to end there, because it was a very good explanation, Miguel loved her, he had promised her that there would be no more lies, and everything was fine.
A party organized by Alchemax and several glasses of champagne changed that, when Doctor Daniels approached with a strange smile, while Miguel had gone to the toilet.
"You and your husband look very happy."
"We are, thank you."
"Yeah. He didn't say that. We were happy too, you know ? The best years of my life. A real beast in bed, caliente. Then one day, nothing. He dumped me like trash. I guess he's found someone better. I thought it was nice to let you know."
"Mi amor ?"
Miguel watched her run away, not glancing at Doctor Daniels. He followed her easily, catching up with her in an alley and hugging her to calm her down, leaving her to hit him sobbing and screaming.
He hadn't heard what Doctor Daniels had said to put her in such a state, and when she repeated it to him, he seemed to go mad with rage. Because his honor was touched, but also because he couldn't bear to see Y/N cry.
"I'm going to kill her ! I've never had an affair with this woman, ever ! She's lying, she's crazy !"
"Don't lie to me." Y/N cried, still clinging to him.
"I swear to you, mi amor. Never. Not with her, not with anyone else."
In the following days, there were several elements that indicated that Miguel was telling the truth. First, there was no message exchanged between him and Doctor Daniels, despite the incessant assertions of the latter, who did not understand why she could not find them. No photo or video of them either.
At the office, no one thought they were more than co-workers who got along well. Miguel O Hara had the reputation of being a serious man, a little angry, selfish and focusing mainly on his research.
The only moment captured by Alchemax's surveillance cameras was when Doctor Daniels approached Miguel to ask him why they were no longer together, and if there was any chance they could see each other again.
Miguel remained cold, distant, politely asking her to leave him alone, repeating to her that there had never been anything between them, and that there never would be anything, because he only loved his wife.
This made Doctor Daniels laugh, who touched his arm, before trying to kiss him.
Jumping up from his chair, Miguel looked at her in disgust, forbidding her to approach him.
The incident trickled down to the bosses, which brought all the previous research and proved that Dr. Daniels had a little problem with her obsession with her colleague, who was not at all interested. She was fired.
This did not please her at all, and since she could not get her lover back, and had lost her job, Doctor Daniels insisted on destroying the married couple.
She called Y/N, texted her, followed her to work and home, telling her over and over that she'd shared Miguel's bed for years.
Maybe he never really liked her, because this guy was obviously not able to love anyone but himself, and he was too afraid for his reputation to admit it, but it was the truth.
"I can prove it !" cried Dr. Daniels hysterically, banging on Y/N's car window. "I know what he likes to eat ! I've driven his car before ! He told me about his brother."
"That's not evidence. Please leave me." Y/N begged her as she tried to start.
"He's got a scar on his back ! How do I know that, huh ? Miguel hates bathing, he doesn't undress in public, it's tiny because it was just a little fall from a horse when he was a kid. How do I know that ?!"
Y/N felt her heart race, as she tried to breathe normally, because indeed, Miguel had a scar, and hardly anyone knew about it. It was in the middle of his back, you could feel it by running your hand over his skin.
She then thought of two things.
Dr. Daniels wasn't lying.
And since his early return from his seminar and his change in behavior, she had passed her hand several times on her husband's back, without feeling this tiny scar.
In the middle of Miguel's back, there was nothing. Nothing at all.
Repeating this to herself, Y/N invited Dr. Daniels to come with her to the house, where Miguel was cooking dinner.
He was surprised to see them, and even more surprised when she calmly asked him to take off his shirt and show his back, while Daniels was screaming hysterically, ordering him to show them his scar and then confess.
He didn't look at the doctor once, his eyes fixed on Y/N, who was only looking at him as well. In his eyes, she could see that he understood why, why Daniels was asking this, but more importantly why Y/N was asking this. He knew that she knew.
Without saying anything, he obeyed and turned around. Dr. Daniels then stopped screaming, freezing.
The back was perfect, tall, muscular. In addition to the noticeable lack of a scar, Y/N noted that he was much taller and more muscular than before, before all of this.
"Well…" Miguel muttered as he got dressed. "Happy ? Excuse me, but I'm only showing the rest to my wife. If you could leave us now."
"I… I don't understand. You had a scar."
"I never had a scar. I never had a relationship with you."
"It's not… You… I think I need to sleep. Excuse me." stammered Doctor Daniels before quickly leaving, leaving them alone.
They stayed like that for a long time, face to face in the kitchen, neither moving nor speaking. Then Miguel sighed, visibly tired and sorry.
He hadn't lied. Not even once. He had simply omitted to say that he wasn't really Miguel, or at least not her Miguel, and that he wasn't the Spiderman of this universe, but of another.
He had seen an opportunity to be happy, after losing his Y/N, and now that her Miguel was gone. Her horrible Miguel, as he called him, who didn't see how lucky he was, who had never known how to treat her right, and who didn't deserve her.
"But I know." he whispered as he approached, shyly taking her hand. "I know I'm lucky to be with you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, the only one. I can't live without you. I thought… Maybe you'd be happier without him, that it would be a relief to hear of his passing. But I also thought I could give you all the things he should have given you. I can leave if you want. I love you."
For several weeks, Y/N had been very happy, showered with love and kisses. She had been afraid of being cheated on, but that was no longer the case, not with this Miguel, who loved her.
So she forgot that there had always been a small scar on her husband's back, and she kissed him, telling him that she loved him too.
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zhongliologist · 1 year
Text
Research Hazards | 30 Nights Series
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Pairing: Alhaitham x afab!reader x Kaveh
Genre: SMUT
Content Warning: threesome, double penetration, blowjob, cunnilingus, anal, creampie, trapped
Words: 5.7k
A/N: Happy Holidays! This is my present to y'all who're still here lmao Anyways, this is part of a series that I barely started, so I won't promise I'll post regularly. Consider this an advance ksksksks Also please ignore genshin lore stuff in this fic, i took all the liberties i had so it's not accurate lmaooo
Tagging: @yostresswritinggirl i know you've been waiting for this lmaooo
Warning: THIS IS AN 18+ FIC, SO MINORS OUT THERE, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.
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There are three types of people in the world when faced with a life or death situation.
The first one tends to be a little too overdramatic.
“This can’t be the end! I have so many projects to do, so many masterpieces to make! Al-haitham, you take responsibility for this! If you didn’t insist that we take this route, we could have been out by now!”
The second prefers to be more logical; the problem solver.
“Don’t be so pathetic, Kaveh. How about you use that brain of yours to find a way out instead? Out of us three here, you’re the most knowledgeable with machinery. You should know at least one loophole.”
And the last one is what people would call an “opportunist”.
“Take your flirting somewhere else, you two. I’m in the cusp of an academic breakthrough. This room is like no other! Completely unique from all the ruins attributed to the god of time! So exciting!”
“We are not flirting!” “Your imagination knows no boundaries, YN.”
You shrugged, crouching near an impression on the wall. “Hm. Whatever you say.”
This unique arrangement, or whatever it was, simply formed out of necessity.
As students of the Akademiya, it was required to submit a final research paper before graduating—a cumulative opus of all the learnings and skills one has acquired through their time as a student. You never had any trouble in writing your own paper, but the subject you chose was a behemoth, a wide gap in the tree of knowledge that has yet to be studied thoroughly. Despite your brilliance however, you only had one brain and that was hardly enough to tackle the mystery of the god of time. Besides, you needed the expertise from the other Darshans to make full sense of any discovery, and they probably need your expertise as well—a win-win situation, in your honest opinion.
And that was how you ended up with Al-haitham and Kaveh—geniuses, yes, but probably the most insufferable pair in the entire Akademiya.
“Al-haitham, Kaveh,” you called out as you stood up from your position and walked towards the two with notebook in hand. Al-haitham was standing front of a wall, trying to decipher what was written, while Kaveh was busy studying the walls of the room.
“Have you figured it out?” Al-haitham asked, looking up. He was always the sensible one between the two, but only when it comes to intellectual pursuits.
“No, not yet, but I do need a sounding board,” you replied, standing beside him. “An alternative assessment, if you will.”
“Fine by me. We’ll listen to your ideas first before we share our own thoughts,” Kaveh said as he stood before the both of you.
“So our current predicament is that we’re trapped in this room, which was triggered when we stepped on that platform, causing the walls to cave in on us. If we want to get out, we have to at least understand what had trapped us and why.”
Both men nodded at you. Al-haitham glanced at you, his stare a little too long than normal.
“Makes sense. Go on.”
You cleared your throat to divert your attention to the subject at hand. “Well, here’s the thing. Previous research claim that these ruins are dedicated to the god of time, yet now that I’m here seeing it with my own two eyes, touching it with my two hands, I have to disagree. And I believe the both of you think the same way.”
Kaveh and Al-haitham exchanged glances, yet it was Kaveh who first spoke. “While it is important not to jump into conclusions right away, I do agree with YN. The architectural style, the motifs…they do look similar to Istaroth-attributed ruins yet not quite. The flower motifs on the wall could easily be mistaken as triquetras. If we reexamine previous papers and note our recent findings, a trove of new discoveries is possible.”
Nodding in agreement, you listened to what Kaveh had to say, until you were distracted by how his lips moved. Soft, pink and plump…would it feel as delectable as it appeared to be, you wondered. Wait. This is not what you should be thinking in this situation YN!
“We should be careful here,” Al-haitham interrupted your thoughts. “Refuting previously recognized research is already an endeavor in and of itself. While it is disappointing that these ruins are not related to the ruins of Dahri, we can get enough data here to write an additional paper, alongside our main research subject. With that said, figuring out who this place is for should be the first and foremost priority, for the paper and for our safety as well.”
“I’ve seen you look through the writings on the wall earlier. Did it leave any clues?” you asked, gazing up at him. For some reason you felt hot and uncomfortable all of the sudden. Perhaps it was just the jungle humidity finally getting to you.
“Ah yes. It was also the reason why I had to agree with your assessment. The writings sing of praises for the goddess of flowers, as well as of hopes and wishes for ‘new seed’ to sprout and ‘new buds’ to bloom. It was also in a language which emerged at the same time as scripts from King Deshret’s empire and from ancient Sumeru. If these were ruins attributed to the god of time, Khaenri'ahn script should have been used and there should be no mention of the goddess of flowers.”
“How interesting,” you exclaimed, trying to rid of unnecessary thoughts forming in your head. “What you both have noted all points to the goddess of flowers. I assumed the same case as well. Yet there are no records of buildings dedicated to the goddess, so what makes this one different? What does the writings on the wall allude to? What is this place for? Why are we trapped here?”
“Alright!” Kaveh exclaimed, making you yelp when he suddenly placed his hands on your shoulders. They were heavy and big. “Let’s take a break for a while. I, for one, would like to rest on a comfortable place.”
The ‘comfortable place’ Kaveh was referring to was of course, another invention of his. Both you and Al-haitham watched the blond unfurl his portable chaise lounge with jaded eyes, all too familiar with Kaveh’s tactic of showing off. If he wasn’t a master craftsman and architect, you would’ve deemed him a simple man.
“Of course, the both of you are free to take a seat. Don’t be shy now,” he smirked, and at that point you understood why Al-haitham was ceaselessly cruel to him.
“Al-haitham if you’re not going to punch him sooner or later, I will do it.”
The Haravatat scholar simply shrugged at you; indicating that you should get used to it. “If I were you, just humor him to keep the peace and quiet. The archons know we need some silence to think in this situation.”
“Fine,” you retorted back and marched towards Kaveh. In a huff, you ungracefully plopped yourself on the chaise, surprising even Kaveh himself.
“You’re…” sitting so close to me, was what he wanted to say yet it was suddenly so difficult to get the words out of his throat.
“What is it?” you asked, wondering why Kaveh covered half of his face with his hand all of a sudden.  
“No, I just…” he couldn’t say it. There was no way he could tell you that you smelled so sweet and delectable, enough to remind him of baklavas drizzled with honey. Drizzled with honey…he could lick it off of you—
“What’s gotten into you, Kaveh? You wouldn’t be thinking of anything inappropriate, would you?” you asked in the midst of a laughing fit. You just couldn’t help but giggle at the way his face morphed into an expression of horror.
“O-of course not! I…” he stammered but eventually composed himself. “Don’t you think it’s a bit warm in this room?”
“Well, there are no windows. It could also be the combined body heat of us three,” you shrugged. “I’m more concerned if we’re gonna run out of air before we can get out of here.”
“Oh, about that. There is a draft coming from the gaps on the walls, so there’s no chance of suffocation.”
“Well, at least we have that. But I do agree, it’s been warm for a while now, it’s making my skin stick to my clothes. I should at least remove one layer.”
“What…?”
Kaveh stared at you in panic, wide-eyed and flushed. He was already having inappropriate thoughts of you; your bare skin would do massive damage to his self-control.
“Wait…!” he reached out to you, hand on your arm. You gazed at him curiously, mulling over at the weird mood the both of you were in. If you were a little more honest, you could feel a haze creeping around you and Kaveh. You were just too scared to acknowledge it.
“Oh, come on! I’m just removing a jacket, no big deal!” You shrugged him off, finally getting rid of the stuffy outerwear required of students while on field, and went back to your place beside the blond man.
Kaveh had to train his eyes somewhere else to avoid looking at your shoulders and neck. Yet even if his eyes found purchase on a nearby rock, his imagination was betraying him with images of you flushed and ready underneath him, calling out his name in sweet and illicit whispers. There is no way he wouldn’t get hard right now. Get a hold of yourself, Kaveh!
Unbeknownst to the blond beside you, you weren’t in the best of shape either. It took all your mental prowess not to get overwhelmed by lewd thoughts—thoughts which involved the blond and the ash-haired scholar. All the intellectual talk from earlier had you weak and bothered, weirdly turned on from how Al-haitham discussed his thoughts while Kaveh shared his. For some reason, the desire to be pressed between both men was clawing at you. You wanted to feel their bodies against yours, touching and caressing all your sensitive spots until the three of you were one incoherent mess.
“What are you two even doing?”
The sound of Al-haitham’s stern voice brought you back down to Teyvat. You were thankful he was still sane, otherwise you might’ve not been able to come back. Kaveh, on the other hand, was still stubbornly looking at the distant wall.
“YN, scoot over,” Al-haitham ordered. He didn’t wait for you to move however, instead, you were forced to make room for him on the now crowded chaise, making you bump against Kaveh, who was definitely not pleased.
“You could at least wait, you know?” you remarked irately. “It’s already so hot and humid as it is…”
Removing his beret, Al-haitham kept his gaze on the wall in front of him much like Kaveh. “It’s not my fault this chaise lounge could barely fit three people.”
“Do you have a problem with it Al-haitham?” Kaveh interrupted, a lilt of frustration present in his voice which wasn’t there before. “You should be thankful you’re not sitting on the stone floor.”
In your position, the two of them looked rather silly bickering at the walls they were facing, as they avoided getting a glimpse of you and of each other. It wasn’t hard to guess that Al-haitham was feeling the same way both you and Kaveh did, and he was trying his best not to succumb to it.
“Did this room smelled particularly sweet when we went in?” you asked, interrupting the both of them.
“Hm? Oh no, I don’t think so. It was just like any other ruins we previously visited,” Kaveh replied, instinctively looking at you. That proved to be quite a mistake however, as his eyes began to ogle at your bare shoulders, neck and arms. The temptation to touch you was all too real and difficult to resist. Any time now, the tightly-wound thread holding his self-control would eventually snap.
“I’ve noticed it as well…the room does smell faintly of sweet flowers and padisarahs.” Al-haitham added as he glanced down at you, imagining all the things your mouth can do for him. Like slow-moving poison, illicit thoughts were invading his mind, pillaging all that is logical and reasonable until all he could think about is you. You being violated by him and Kaveh; you crying out their names as they fill both your holes; you laying on the chaise stuffed to the brim with their seed.
You watched Al-haitham as his mind wandered. You could tell he was losing his own battles, overcome by intrusive thoughts. If Al-haitham himself had succumbed to these thoughts, then forget about finding a way out. Your minds were too preoccupied to do any analysis at that point. The question now became clear to you—for how long are you three able to maintain self-control? If that wasn’t possible, what will happen to the three of you?
“A conclusion seemed to have crossed your mind, YN.”
It was Al-haitham, who had met your eyes directly. Peridot orbs on yours, you noticed the ferocity of his gaze, as if a fire was smoldering deep within him which he could barely contain. He was at his limit, and you were nearing yours too. You could only withstand so much mental battles, especially not against old leyline energy.
“This was a miscalculation in our part. Who would have thought we’d encounter something like this deep in the forest?” you replied, voice becoming low, body becoming pliant. “The flower motifs, the inscription on the wall, all the scattered decorations. It makes sense for this place to have that kind of purpose.”
“So what now?” Kaveh asked, leaning against the back rest of the chaise. “I don’t think I have the energy to resist whatever is happening.”
“Let’s just see where it goes,” you shrugged, allowing Al-haitham’s hands to cup your cheeks and Kaveh’s arms to wrap around your waist. “We are already too far gone.”
The next few moments were difficult for you to follow. After allowing your carnal urges to took hold of your actions, all you could remember was how everything felt so good.
The two men slowly ravished your body. You remember Al-haitham pressing his lips against yours, nibbling your lower lip until you allowed him to explore your mouth and play with your tongue. Kaveh, on the other hand, had monopoly over your body, lazily embracing your waist with one arm as he fondled your chest with his hand. He liked to bury his nose on the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and leaving his marks all over your skin. Suffice to say, their ministrations left you bare and naked.
There were no words exchanged at that moment, just pure and unbridled lust.
You delighted at the sensation of having both men caressing you, making you feel good. In the haste of it all, the blond had you sitting on his lap, his hands cupping your breasts and rubbing your nipples, while Al-haitham’s lips travelled down from collarbones to your stomach; leaving nips and splotches of color in his wake. Your hands could only do so much; wrapped around Al-haitham’s shoulders as you accepted it all.
Kaveh couldn’t believe he finally had a taste of you—his deepest desires finally coming into fruition after years of longing. Although he had to share with Al-haitham, there was no other opportunity like this. He could finally touch you, caress you, tease you as he pleased. There were no eyes to stop him, no boorish ego to tell him he was being unprofessional for liking you as your senior. Maybe this was what he needed after all.
“…Kaveh…” you moaned, looking up to him for a kiss which he easily obliged. He went immediately for a French kiss, sliding his tongue against yours in a soft and needy kiss. Kaveh groaned into your lips as you pressed your butt against the tent in his pants, reminding him to remove his clothes as soon as possible.
Al-haitham watched the exchange with half-lidded eyes and lips ajar. It was turning him on in all the right ways. As a man of rationality, he had never thought he’d enjoy a voyeuristic view of you making out with another man, much less Kaveh. But the sight only made his dick harder, prompting him to bite hard on your inner thigh.
 “—!!”
“Come on now, YN. Don’t tell me you forgot about me,” he growled as he lapped on the bite mark he had just left on your skin. “Let’s hear you moan.”
With those words, the man completely ravished your thighs—leaving nips and bites but altogether avoiding the place where you needed him the most. You were trembling, keening in pleasure, mind numbed by the sensations both men had put you through. With hands tightly digging into Al-haitham’s hair, you collapsed against Kaveh’s chest as you begged the other for more.
Annoyed at the attention you gave to Al-haitham, Kaveh had his hand under your chin and turned your head to face him. Meeting his scarlet eyes, you melted under his gaze—once again joining lips in one sloppy kiss. He easily drowned out your moans with his tongue, delving deeper into your mouth until all you could feel were his soft plump lips.
Aware of how quiet you had been, Al-haitham pushed your legs up and dove right at your center; sucking your sensitive nub without any warning. Your body shook immediately, pulling away from Kaveh’s lips as you reveled at the way Al-haitham was lapping your juices which had been spilling out since earlier.
“…Al-haitham…! Wait—!”
All your pleading went to deaf ears as he continued eating you out, even to the point of inserting his tongue into your hole. It didn’t help when Kaveh suddenly pinched your nipples, flicking them until they were raw and sensitive. He was back on marking your shoulders and neck; his bites now more intense and feral. You could only grasp on thin air as both men drove you to your climax. Tears welled up on the sides of your eyes as the pleasure became so unbearable, with no choice but to take it all in.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck….! I’m…!”
As Al-haitham sucked hard on your clit; as Kaveh bit hard on your shoulder, you instantly fell to your climax—body shaking and trembling as the pain and pleasure mixed into something indescribably intense and rendering your mind completely blank. You screamed at the overwhelming stimulation, squirting juices into Al-haitham’s mouth which he gladly licked.
The two men gently laid you down on the chaise as they stood in front of you, breathless and horny with cocks painfully hard. Silently, they undressed as you watched—your eyes tracing the contours of their muscles and biceps, their beautiful skin riddled with beads of sweat and bodily fluids. Desire bubbles up from the pits of your stomach once again.
Finally, you saw a glimpse of their erect members, both glistening with pre-cum. Head overridden with lust, you almost salivate at the sight—Kaveh’s was pretty, pink and rather long and slightly girthy, while Al-haitham was thick and veiny; almost as muscular as his toned body. Both men smirked at how you were ogling at them.
“Seems like you want more, YN,” Kaveh remarked as he sat at the end of the chaise, spreading your legs apart. “Surely, we can give you more. Isn’t that right, Al-haitham?”
Normally, this would prompt more bickering from the two, yet they have different priorities right now, and they can set aside their differences for later.
Al-haitham scoffed, hands giving his cock a few pumps before placing it near your lips.
“How about we start with a blowjob? I’m sure you know how to do it, don’t you YN?” There was a mocking lilt to his tone that normally irritated you, yet at that situation, it turned you on for some fucking reason.
At first, you gave the head tentative licks, lapping at the beads of pre-cum spilling from the tip. You then began swirling your tongue around the head and sucking it. Eventually, you licked the underside of his cock, thoroughly covering his member with saliva and pre-cum which earned a deep growl from the man. Locking gazes with Al-haitham, you finally took him in, mouth stretching at his girth. If you weren’t drowning in lust, you would’ve complained at the pain, but at that point, all you could think about was how you were sucking his large cock while Kaveh was rubbing his on your drenched slit.
And speaking of Kaveh, he was busy pleasuring himself—pressing your thighs together around his dick which was brushing against your sensitive clit. If you hadn’t had Al-haitham’s cock in your mouth, you would’ve moaned every time Kaveh would rub on your sensitive bud; yet you could only roll your eyes to the back of your head; seeing stars on the process. It was a delightful distraction, and both men seemed to have made it somewhat of a contest of who could maintain your attention.
All of the sudden, Al-haitham shoved his dick into your throat, making you gag. Holding your head, he was effectively fucking your mouth, as you took it all in. It was painful, but fortunately Kaveh was there to distract you, pressing his thumb on your clit as he continued sliding his cock on your wet cunt. You could no longer tell which was which, allowing your body to feel everything.
“Fuck, YN….I’m going to come in your mouth…” Al-haitham muttered through gritted teeth.
“Wouldn’t you like that, YN?” Kaveh cooed, face flushed as he continued to fuck your thighs. “We’re gonna cover you with our cum…”
With a few strokes, Al-haitham stilled in your mouth and pumped his cum into your throat, while Kaveh spilled his seed on your stomach, almost reaching your breasts. Not able to swallow of Al-haitham’s essence, you allowed the mess to drip from your lips and down to your body. The image of you covered with their seed was enough to keep both men hard even outside the influence of the room. Even after coming once, it wasn’t enough. They had to have you.
Lifting your chin up, Kaveh captured your lips for the nth time, tasting Al-haitham on your tongue. The thought seemed to drive him crazy, as he probed deeper into your mouth, groaning, sucking your tongue and biting your lips. Lifting you up, Kaveh met eye to eye with Al-haitham, both seemingly agreeing on something.
Smirking as he devoured your lips, Kaveh had you on his lap again, his cock now lined up on your cunt. Without saying anything, the blond lowered you to his dick, grunting at the novel sensation of your walls wrapped around him. His lips kept any of your moans from escaping, as he allowed you to feel the shape of his cock in your pussy.
All you could think of at that moment was how good Kaveh filled you up. He was prodding you at the right places, his size making you stop to adjust to him before he can plow into your cunt. The way he was kissing you didn’t help either. The constant stimulation had made your body so sensitive that even a brush of Al-haitham’s hand on your neck or Kaveh’s low growls was enough to make your body spasm.
“…Kaveh…more…”
You begged for him to move, but the blond could only smirk at you as he laid the both of you flat on the chaise with you above him.
“Oh no, we’re not done here, YN. Al-haitham has to prepare you.”
With those words, you suddenly felt cold wet fingers prodding your other hole, prompting you to turn around. You were greeted by a grinning Al-haitham who pressed a few kisses on your back.
“We don’t have any lube right now, but I’ll make sure you’re ready for the both of us.”
As Al-haitham kneeled down, you could feel his tongue rimming your hole, licking and prodding until you were crying out at the strange sensations.
“Wait…no…! That’s…!”
“Relax, YN,” Kaveh assured you as he nipped on your ear. “It’ll feel good later on. Just let Al-haitham pleasure you.”
You could no longer tell how long Al-haitham took to make you feel good, but you could tell that your rigid body was gradually becoming pliant to his touch. Perhaps you already came several times, you weren’t sure as the pleasure seemed to have overlapped each other with no end in sight. By the time you noticed, he already had four digits pumping in and out of you as he lapped on your juices, while you moaned against Kaveh’s shoulders.
“Look how well you can take my fingers, YN,” Al-haitham whispered to your ear as he continued to pound his fingers into your ass. “You think you can take my cock now?”
“A-Al-haitham…please…I—!”
As the ash-haired man flicked a particular spot inside, you could only cling to Kaveh for support, yet the blond himself was also struggling, trying his best not to come even after your walls keep tightening around him.
“Al-haitham…” Kaveh grunted, beads of sweat falling from his temples. “Hurry up…I don’t think I can last much longer…”
Al-haitham clicked his tongue as he shoved his fingers deep into you, making both you and Kaveh groan. “So impatient…perhaps you both need a lesson or two.”
“Well, how about we switch places instead?” the older man asked, his irritation evident.
Yet the other man only smirked, “Maybe later then.”
Finally pulling out his fingers, Al-haitham coated his member with your essence, rubbing it against your hole until he lined it up. Noticing what he was about to do, Kaveh pulled your now swollen lips once more for a kiss, effectively distracting you.
Gradually, Al-haitham pushed his fat cock into your ass, stretching you out in proportions you had never considered before. Having both Al-haitham and Kaveh inside of you had your eyes rolling to the bank of your head, the intensity enough to make you faint. But you were intoxicated with whatever energy was in the room, so instead of actually fainting, you were flooded with pain that was so good that it had your body shaking uncontrollably.
“Breathe slowly, love. Take it easy,” Kaveh whispered sweetly to you, noticing your heavy breaths. He made carefully placed kisses on your jaw and down to the crook of your neck to soothe you. He knew Al-haitham would definitely abuse your hole, and he had to at least make sure that you’d come out sane after this. His ministrations seemed to have worked though, as you collapsed into his embrace, whimpering while taking in both cocks in you.
It didn’t take a while for both men to begin moving. The contrast of Al-haitham’s sharp and harsh thrusts to Kaveh’s slow but long-drawn pace left you an incoherent mess, no longer able to perceive everything that was happening to you. You felt as if you were one big bundle of nerves, drooling and screaming every time their cocks pushed against a particularly sweet spot in you.
Yet you were not the only one on the brink of losing their sanity. Both Al-haitham and Kaveh were acting on complete impulse and desire—with their hands on your waist, plunging into you as deep as they could, relentlessly chasing after their high. They wanted to fuck you over and over again and spill into you, marking you as theirs inside and out. Then rinse and repeat.
“Hey, can you feel it?” Al-haitham asked Kaveh in a breathy voice, grinning as he continued to pound into you.
“Feel what?”
“My dick—“
In one huff, Al-haitham shoved deep and hard into you, which made your walls contract around Kaveh’s.
“Oh fuck…!” The other groaned out, gripping your waist tight as he threw his head up. That was incredible, if he was being honest.
“You liked that, didn’t you?” the younger man smirked as he bent over your back and took a handful of your hair. “YN seemed to have liked it as well.”
“Shut up,” the other simply glared even though his face was completely flushed.
“You should learn from YN, Kaveh. At least, they’re being honest.”
Al-haitham only chuckled as he continued to drive into you, completely mesmerized at how you were clamping around him, how your hips would bounce every time he would thrust sharply, how you were moaning his name on Kaveh’s lips. In normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have imagined himself desiring you so intensely like this. Unlike Kaveh who obviously had a crush on you, you were more like a like-minded individual to Al-haitham; someone who he could match wavelengths with. He could spend the whole day everyday with you without worrying about anything, and he would feel rather lonely if you weren’t there. Was it different from what Kaveh was feeling about you? He thought it was, but now he wasn’t sure anymore.
Al-haitham felt you tighten around him once more, probably prompted by Kaveh playing with your chest. He could feel himself slowly climbing into his climax, his dick twitching inside of you.
“I can’t…no more…I’m…” you managed to croak out, voice hoarse and dry from all the screaming.
“It’s okay...” Kaveh cooed as he pressed a kiss on your forehead, “we’re cutting it close too…”
“Cum with us, YN,” Al-haitham encouraged.
This was the moment you waited for, feeling both their dicks plunging in and out of you. You reveled at how full you felt, at how you were drowning in so much pleasure that your mind just turned off on its own. This moment where you were all in the brink of your climax was something you chased after—it was the height of all anticipation, of all the build-up. Soon, it will spill over into waves of ecstasy; devouring the three of you whole.
With their erratic paces and their ragged breaths, both men ravished both your holes as they try to reach their peak. You yourself was feeling the brunt of their thrusts, with knuckles white from gripping tightly on Kaveh’s shoulders and eyes rolling to the back of your head. A single hard thrust from both men had you collapsing on your orgasm, walls tightening as your body shook intensely. Following after you, Kaveh painted your walls white, spilling his seed deep into you with a loud growl. Al-haitham finished last, pumping his cum into your ass until it spilt over your hole.
Losing strength, Al-haitham slumped beside you and Kaveh as he tried to catch his breath. You could’ve passed out at the moment, if only the both of them weren’t still hard and ready to go. You yourself weren’t as satisfied as you ought to be, now beginning to miss their deep and sharp thrusts.
“Seems like we’ll have to satisfy this place before it would let us stop,” Al-haitham remarked, pulling out from you with his cum spilling out.
Helping you sit up, Kaveh also pulled out from you, groaning in the process. He wouldn’t want to admit it but he was as eager as you started; evident from how hard he still was despite coming twice.
“You can still take more, can’t you YN?”
“We’ll help you, so don’t worry about anything.”
Climbing back on the chaise, Kaveh pulled you to his lap while Al-haitham captured your lips with a grunt escaping his mouth. That all led you to Kaveh pounding your ass this time while Al-haitham shoved his cock into your pussy—your juices mixing and staining your skin. Imprisoned in the room, the three of you had no perception of time, thus it felt like you were fucking for eternity with no chance of calming down.
The three of you tried every position possible in order to satiate the brewing desire ever-present in the pits of your stomachs. One time you were riding Kaveh while you had Al-haitham on your mouth. Another time you were held by Al-haitham, wrapping your legs around his waist as he fucked your sore cunt raw, while Kaveh was pressed behind you, cock plunging deep in your ass. Both your two holes were full of their cum, spilling out on your thighs and legs.
At that point, the three of you were unbothered where this was going. If this was where you meet your end, you could just imagine Al-haitham’s look of disappointment and disgust. That was hilarious in and of itself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore. You just wanted to have them both by your side, filling you with their seed over and over again.
By the time you came to notice, you had already awoken yourself from sleep. Both men were lying close, bodies splayed over you as if you three had passed out from fucking too much.
But there, on the periphery of your vision, you saw a door, which wasn’t there before. You rubbed your eyes to check if you weren’t imagining things, but fortunately enough, you weren’t. It was there.
“Kaveh! Al-haitham! Wake up!” you exclaimed, pinching their noses to wake them up.
“Wha…? What happened…?” Kaveh asked, groaning at how heavy both you and Al-haitham were.
“Could you tone it down please?” the younger man scolded, still planning to go back to resting.
But as you were about to move, all the activity you did came crashing on you.
“Oww my fucking back!”
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EPILOGUE
“And so, that is the conclusion of our research on Ruin No. 255b. While our paper is far from conclusive, we would like to take another look at it for more study.”
Al-haitham ended your presentation with a resounding applause from the panel of sages. They were more or less satisfied, saying how the three of you always produced great research which definitely warranted high honors upon graduation.
“But still, I’m curious,” the sage from the Amurta Darshan began. “This section here…on how leyline energy affects an individual’s libido. It’s so incredibly detailed that I have to ask how you were able to get this data.”
You smiled nervously, as you exchanged looks with the two men. “Well, we just had a few volunteers…”
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eldritch-spouse · 1 month
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Shags get obsessed with a girl that works at an art store where he gets his supplies. She's laid back and chit-chats with him about any projects he's working on.
[Okay but what if you had a really strange thing going on?]
You like this little freak.
Yeah, okay, that's a bit of a mean thing to say. But can you be blamed? There's no word that fits him more aptly than freak. Not even in the physical sense, there's a lot of variety in mushroom monsters, you know some of them can be tall and gangly like Shags. He's just bizarre.
The way he speaks, moves, conducts himself. You swear, not a single mannerism this monster makes feels natural or reflexive. Even the way he seems to intensely wait and make himself an obstacle until you initiate conversation with him... God, even the fucking topics of conversation, it's like he makes an effort to speak in riddles.
In this rather boring dead-end of a job, seeing this weirdo bend and squeeze through the doors like Samara about to crawl out of the TV is the highlight of your shift.
That's why he's your favorite client.
He's been standing still in the same supplies isle for too long, you already know what he wants.
" Having trouble finding something, Mr Shags? "
As if, he probably knows this store better than yourself.
In fact, he outright told you he used to be a client before you started working here.
He murmurs a response too quietly to interpret, forcing you to come closer. And, predictably, as soon as you are within grabbing distance (not hard to achieve when you're a lamppost of a monster featuring branch-like arms), a spider hand slithers onto your shoulder. It's cold, he's always a little cold.
You're urged in front of a shelf, his head looming over yours.
" Ahh, I need your honest opinion on something... If you don't mind? "
This is the paints section, a mural of hues that hurt the eyes.
" Sure. "
" What shade of orange do you think I should get? "
You love these questions. Because never once does he elaborate on what he's creating or why he wants you to choose. It's happened many times before. What size of canvas should I get? What pen should I get? What sketch books should I get?
You like the strange autonomy of getting to pick, offering him the same level of context he does to you.
Absolutely none.
" Alloy. " You point.
Shags reaches towards it with little effort, snagging several little containers with his root-like digits. The hand on your shoulders tightens.
" What a choice. Thank you very much, my dear. "
" No problem. "
It takes a bit of shifting before the hand on your skin is lifted.
You stroll back to the cash register with a small smile and occasionally observe the monster in the same way you'd study an animal at the zoo.
It's strange how little he moves sometimes. Initially, you thought it was just so he wouldn't drip ink everywhere, but it seems to be a part of him now. Blending in with all his other vaguely creepy mannerisms. Mr Shags gets all his items at a snail's torturous pace and finally, finally approaches you.
" How are the latest projects going, Mr Shags? " You start while scanning the paints first.
The shroom actually seems to frown for a second. Fingers busy on the balcony. " Not as smoothly as I wished... "
Tap tap tap.
" My latest muse and I, our chemistry, I'm afraid it has no substance. "
" Oh? " Your eyes deviate to his face for a moment.
" Yes... Something tells me it's time to move on. But I do want to honor our time together with one last, preserving piece. "
Tap tap tap.
" Mhm. Sounds good, I hope the next one works out. " Frankly, you're not sure what he's talking about, but you usually never are to begin with.
" Me too. " Then he smiles again, and you get the distinct feeling his stare has turned into a more scrutinizing one.
Far from the first time, it doesn't scare you like it did initially.
It's pretty funny, actually. You started out thinking this guy was some kind of loser looking to harass you, to intentionally make you uncomfortable. Nowadays he's more of an entertaining almost-friend.
Tap tap tap.
" Will that be all, Mr Shags? "
" Shags. "
He's told you to call him just by his name a couple of times. You always ignore it, but he keeps trying anyway.
There's a silent beat.
During your first years of work, the lack of action would have made you antsy enough to break the silence, which is what you know he wants you to do. But now, you have no trouble staring back placidly until he continues the conversation.
Apparently, the shroom enjoys that continuous challenge, because his grin widens slowly.
" You have a peculiar facial definition. " He eventually rasps.
A nothing statement, not quite a compliment, not quite an insult, definitely said to confuse and prompt a question. One you don't give him the satisfaction of hearing.
" Thanks. " The customer service smile has an edge of playful smarm this time.
Tap tap tap.
" ... I would enjoy sketching you sometime. Your facial expressions are intriguing. "
This is essentially his way of asking you out, you presume.
" You've drawn me before. "
He's even given you the pages, pencil depictions of you caught in a selection of moments. Mostly bored to tears and staring at the little universe between the cracks in aged walls.
Shags tuts. " It's quite different when the muse in question is part of the experience. I much prefer it that way. "
You can't help the hint of a snicker that tugs at the corners of your lips as you bag his items to hurry things along. Not that there's anyone else inside right now.
" Mm. And what if we don't have good chemistry? "
The shroom monster hands you his card, not even caring about hearing the total.
" I think we both know that wouldn't be the case. "
Tap tap tap.
It's only a few moments of intentionally creating suspense until you hand him all his new belongings and card.
" See you soon, Mr Shags. "
His grin only twitches for a delightful glimpse of a second before he carefully takes his possessions and leaves.
Playing with fire is fun.
One day, you'll get burned.
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